𝜗ৎ michael’s wife is a bitch but fine as fuck (18+ blurb)
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ you were a handful to say the least. michael doesn’t even know how he manages to handle you. you never fail to make his life very interesting. everyday is something new, and something eventful. you always say what’s on the mind and michael loves it, he loved your attitude. most importantly he loved the way your ass looked in those juicy couture tracksuits and how your curls bounced when you were throwing a fit about something random. with each pout or snarly remark you made resulted in michael getting turned on and michael was always turned on because you were always bitching about something.
“stupid fucking press.” your tone was sharp, louis vuitton bag swinging as you paced through the living room as michael watched you through his sunglasses—from his spot on the couch. his eyes would occasionally trail down your body, particularly your ass with the word 'juicy’ written in rhinestones.
“please don’t curse, honey.” michael breath out, calm and quiet—letting a soft grin appear on his face. you huffed, ignoring him and rolling your eyes at his response.
“don’t tell me what to do.”
“don’t be like that, babylove. i don’t like that kind of talk from you.”
your eyes narrowed. “ n' i don’t like that gucci bag you bought me, so i guess we’re even.” and just like that you stomped your way to the bedroom you and michael shared and slammed the door. michael being michael, he just smiled and shook his head. he was immune to your attitude by now, too obsessed with you to care.
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ as far back as michael could remember you were always like that. you were at the local park when he saw you, dressed up in a short sundress with heels—walking your tiny pomeranian. he remembered they was way your glossy lips moved while you were on the phone with one of your home girls. you were a playboy bunny at the time, living with the rest of the bunnies at the mansion. michael spotted you from across the grass and froze—you were hands-down the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. that deep brown skin, those curves, the confident switch in your step. he approached you, you can’t remember everything he said but the one thing that stuck with you was:
“i’ll call hugh right now and tell him that you’re mine”
you laughed, kissed your teeth, and rolled your eyes but gave him your number anyway. he’s been wrapped around your finger ever since.
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Fast forward to now, you two have a an beautiful home and along down the road you let michael knock you up with a beautiful daughter, who’s 16 and just like you—to michael’s dismay. when you had her you gave her the name star because you always tell her:
“you’re gonna be a star, just like mommy”
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ you never fail to uplift your daughter and michael loves it. you also never fail to spoil her, so much that michael’s pockets gets flimsy in result of her constant need to take star to get some ‘new bling bling’ as you and star would say but michael never understood.
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ star was sometimes the main reason you and michael had arguments—if you consider you yelling and michael’s calm and collected demeanor a argument (more like a one sided fight). it was always about clothes but most of all, low rise jeans. low rise jeans is a huge trend that star wanted to be apart of. there was one particular style that all the girls were rocking—the zodiac jeans. they were dangerously low with a zodiac sign on the butt of the jeans with rhinestones and they had a cute little flare at the ends. star made the mistake of asking michael first.
star had spent hours imagining herself in these jeans. she even would act as if she had them on, practicing her strut for the school hallway. soon she would build up the courage to ask her father for the jeans—not that she needed courage to ask for money because has no problem asking for money but it was the simply fact she might hear the worst word in history: no
star strolled along down the hallway, en route to michael’s private studio, within the house. star pushes open the studio door quietly. the room smells like warm wood and faint cologne, monitors humming low while michael works at the boards in a simple button-up and sweatpants. michael hears the sound of feet along the floor and instantly lifts his head. his eye met his daughter’s, giving her a warm smile.
“oh hey, sweetheart.” he waves her over, opening his arms wide. she waltzed right into her father’s arms, feeling his lips on her forehead.
michael sensed that she was going to ask something, mentally preparing his wallet. “what’s up?”
star chewed the inside of her mouth, fidgeting with her bright, glittery pink nokia. then she just spewed out, “daddy… can I please get some money for these new low-rise jeans? they’re so cute and everybody at school has them.” she shoved her phone in his face, showing michael a picture.
his eyes squinted at the picture but eyes suddenly widened. michael looks up, that gentle smile softening his face before the dad mode kicks in. “oh honeybee, those are entirely too much for your age. I don’t think so, princess.” star pouted, getting ready to rebuttal. “but daddd, please? mama lets me wear stuff like that all the time.” he shakes his head firmly but lovingly: “but nothing, twinkle. my answer is no.” she huffs dramatically, braids flipping as she turns on her heel to leave. as she reaches the door he calls after her softly, “love you, baby girl.” she pauses, still upset but not cold-hearted, mumbling “love you too” before heading out.
star comes straight to you in the kitchen, pout still on her face. you’re leaned against the marble island looking like the reason why michael can still get it up— baby blue tracksuit zipped low to show cleavage, curls up in a bun, glossy lips shining, french tips tapping away on your phone while the pomeranian naps nearby. “mama, dad said no to the jeans… he said they too much for my age.” you set your matcha down, popping your gum loud. “well let me go talk to him. you should’ve just asked for the money straight up, star. haven’t I taught you enough about handling your daddy?” you wink—switching out the kitchen, bare feel against the tile with purpose.
you stroll into the studio like you own the whole estate (because you basically do). michael looks up from the boards, already sensing the storm. “baby, before you start—” you cut him off, hand on your hip, “michael, about those jeans for star. she’s sixteen, not six. let her feel cute.” he stands, trying to stay firm: “they show way too much waist, darling. I’m trying to set boundaries.” you kiss your teeth loud, glossy lips pursed in that signature pout. “boundaries? ya know what? fine.” really? did michael finally win?
you turned you heel and strutted out the room with a sway of your hips. michael smiled to him with triumph, thinking he actually won a argument. usually the arguments end in you getting your way but it was finally time that michael got his way, or so he thought.
later that afternoon you slip star some cash (plus extra for shoes to match). “go handle that, baby. mama got you.” star squeals and hugs you tight, “you’re the best mama ever!” when she comes back strutting through the foyer in the low-rise jeans—waistband sitting dangerously low on her hips, her zodiac written on the back—she looks every bit the stylish princess you raised. michael walks in from the studio, with a smile on his face—still thinking he won the argument from moments ago but once he approaches the living room he stops cold. “…star, those are the exact ones I said no to.” you’re lounging on the nearby chaise in your tracksuit, legs crossed, smirking. “and? if you think i was gonna let my baby be the only one without something, you were surely mistaken.”
at least you were coming from a good place in your heart.
𝜗ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ it didn’t matter how many times you gave michael a headache, you always made up for it in bed. light dim, clothing set long discarded, your deep brown skin warm and glowing against the silk sheets while michael’s big hands explore every curve—long fingers gripping your thick thighs, sliding deep between your folds until you’re crying out, trembling. “you’re impossible… my impossible wife,” he groans, thrusting into you with that perfect rhythm, one hand gently around your throat. you moan loud, nails raking down his back, curls messy across the pillow. “but you love when I get my way, daddy.” he does. from the park day he claimed you till now.
𝜗ৎ i had a taste of the mj mature era smut anddd i understand now… he was sooo yummy during that era! this has been my drafts for a whileeeeeee also pls interact with this, don’t be a stranger 😋
♫: when y/n receives a call from quincy for a song collaboration with her ex, michael jackson, the lyrics trigger flashbacks of their past relationship.
(heh.. part 2? just a short lil one bc i wanted to try out that white border thingy majiggy, hope it isn’t too confusing. <33)
˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.
your name was everywhere. it started with a breakout single that took over the charts, but within two years, it had evolved into a cultural shift.
you weren't just topping the charts; you were redefining them. every music video you released became a trend, every live performance was praised, and sold out stadiums had practically become your second home.
the media couldn't get enough. the critics, who were usually impossible to please, finally agreed on a title that stuck to you:
ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴏᴘ.
it was a heavy title to wear at your age, but you wore it effortlessly, dominating the industry with every move.
but with every queen, there's a king, and the world only recognised one.
michael jackson. you hadn't thought of the name in years. but with his overwhelming fame, it was inevitable you were going to be reminded of him. so imagine your surprise when your producer, quincy jones, called you to ask you to duet with him.
“look, daughter. i need you down at westlake studios right now.” quincy's voice spoke through the receiver, booming with late night energy that always signaled a burst of creativity. “i've got a track that is basically screaming for you. smelly is already in the booth tracking his parts-“
“no.” you cut in instantly, the word slipping past your lips before you could even think to stop it as your fingers tightened around the phone. “no, q. find someone else. i'm not doing it.”
quincy paused on the line, completely caught off guard by your sudden pushback, oblivious to the panic he had just caused. “excuse me? since when is it like you to turn down a masterpiece? you two are the biggest pop stars on my roster. i'm not taking no for an answer. baby, come here now.”
as the line went dead, you let out a heavy sigh, slowly lowering the phone against the kitchen counter. you groaned as an overwhelming rush of memories infiltrated your mind.
you and michael had been each other's entire world during his thriller era. you were more of an underrated icon in the background, still trying to find your footing in the industry, while he was transitioning into a global superstar.
it had been a quiet secret. you two had shared everything together; he was your first kiss, your first love, and the first person you had ever given your body to. you had been his first real taste of it, too.
but it quickly became so much more than just innocent romance. it was intensely physical, a raw pull that you both became completely consumed by. since you were each other's very first time, the realisation of that connection turned into a sexual addiction.
behind those locked doors, the world outside vanished, replaced by an insatiable need for each other's body. you couldn't keep your hands off one another. every stolen hour was spent tangled together, learning the curves of each other's bodies, driving each other crazy in a cycle of desire that neither of you knew how to break.
but then, the world became too loud. the suffocating security, the paparazzi, and the weight of both of your careers had slowly choked the life out of the relationship. with broken hearts, you had mutually agreed to let each other go, prioritising your own careers over love.
you hadn't looked him in the eyes since the day you walked out of his life. and now, he was fully in his bad era, and the thought of facing him made you weak in your knees. but you couldn't say no to quincy, not when your career was tied to his commands.
reluctantly, you grabbed your things and stepped out into the night air. affirming yourself that “it would be just fine” as you slipped into the back of your private car. your personal driver quietly put the vehicle in drive, the city lights blurring outside the window as the car smoothly glided through the streets, heading straight toward the man you never thought you'd talk to again.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖༘⋆𐦍⊹₊ ⋆｡˚
the heavy scent of quincy's cologne, and studio air hit you instantly. the room was bathed in the familiar lighting of westlake, but the energy inside was powerful, vibrating with the presence of the two men sitting inside.
quincy was spun around in his producer's chair, a thick pair of headphones resting around his neck as he boomed with laughter. but your eyes skipped right past him, immediately locking onto the figure sitting on the sofa behind the mixing console.
michael.
he looked entirely different from the boy you had loved. his hair was longer, styled in beautiful curls that framed his face perfectly, and his jawline looked sharper under the lights. he seemed more confident. he was dressed in a black button down shirt, a pair of sunglasses plastered on his face.
as the door clicked shut behind you, michael's laughter faded. he lowered his glasses, his dark eyes snapping over to you, and for a second, the calm composure he was wearing broke.
“there she is!” quincy clapped his hands together, his voice shattering the tense silence that had stretched across the room. “the queen herself. come on in, daughter.”
you forced your fake smile to stay perfectly in place, praying your voice wouldn't betray how nervous you were. “hey, q.” you said smoothly, stepping further into the room and keeping your posture relaxed. you turned your gaze to the couch, your heart racing as you looked right at him. “hey, michael.”
michael cleared his throat, slowly standing up from the sofa. he offered a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his voice low when he spoke.
“hey.” he smiled, his eyes searching your face, scanning the perfect mask you had put on. “it's... it's really good to see you.”
“likewise.” you lied smoothly, the fake smile never wavering as you crossed your arms, trying to keep yourself from fidgeting under his intense stare.
“alright, alright, enough with the introductions.” quincy cut in, oblivious to the suffocating tension that had settled over the room. he rolled his chair back toward the mixing board, flipping a few switches and clicking a button on the intercom. “we're burning daylight, and i've got a hit to finish. michael just wrapped some parts. i need your voice on it.”
quincy handed you a sheet of lined paper covered in michael's messy handwriting. just looking at the font of his writing made a sharp pang of nostalgia hit you.
“the song is called morning dew.” quincy explained, turning up the monitors.
your heart stopped. you glanced up from the paper, your eyes automatically darting back to michael. he was already watching you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, an unreadable expression on his face. of all the names in the world, you thought, a wave of irony washing over you.
“go ahead and step into the booth with him.” quincy ordered, waving his hand toward the double paned glass. “let's do a quick run through y/n, so you can read the mood..”
michael didn't say a word. he just gave a polite nod and turned to walk toward the isolation booth. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly feeling dry as you looked down at the lyric sheet in your hands, the words staring back at you in his distinct handwriting.
forcing your legs to move, you followed him inside the booth, the soundproof door confining the two of you alone together.
michael walked up to the dual microphone setup, adjusting his headphones slightly before turning his dark eyes back to you.
“you look beautiful.” he complimented, his voice slightly shy, the bad persona seemed to soften for just a split second, a hint of the boy you used to love peeking through. “i want to say.. congratulations on... everything”
“thanks.” you managed to say, your voice tight as you adjusted your own headphones, intentionally avoiding his eyes. you couldn't look at him, not when he was looking at you like that. “congrats to you, too. the new album is.. good.”
before he could reply, quincy's voice cut through the monitors. “alllright kids, let's roll it from the top of the verse. daughter, give me that first line.”
the track began to play, a burning beat filling your ears as you looked down at the sheet music, tracking the lyrics. you stepped up to the microphone, cleared your throat, and delivered the opening line.
“as we sip champagne watching purple rain...”
the words came out perfectly on pitch, your tone professional, but flat and hollow. you sang it like you were reading a book, the fact that you were in your ex's presence was making you detached from the music.
the track abruptly cut out, the silence in your headphones deafening. quincy leaned forward over the console, pressing the talkback button. his brows were furrowed as he stared at you through the glass. “whoa, whoa, stop. what was that?” he shook his head, looking completely baffled.
“y/n, you're singing like a robot. where is the passion? this song is about love. i need you to feel it, baby. stop overthinking and let it out.”
you swallowed hard, your cheeks burning slightly. you didn't dare look to your left, where michael was standing inches away, silently watching your every move. you tightly gripped the edge of the music stand, nodding at quincy through the glass. “sorry. run it again.”
you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to forget michael was there just enough to let the music in. when the track restarted, you leaned into the mic, letting your natural warm voice take over. you sailed through the first two verses smoothly, your voice blending flawlessly with the sultry beat, making quincy nod in approval behind the mixing board.
but then the chorus hit, and it was time for the overlay. suddenly, michael stepped closer to his microphone, his presence completely engulfing the small booth. the distance between you vanished as the music swelled, and his voice cut into your headphones.
“girl, you’re sexy in the mornin'..” you both sang, his dark eyes locking directly onto yours, burning right through the calm facade you were trying so hard to keep up. “you know you turn me on, babe.”
your heart leapt into your throat, avoiding his eyes as your voices intertwined perfectly, tracking the melody in flawless harmony.
“you know the sun rise for you..” he sang, his tone dipping into something soft and intimate, a genuine ache bleeding into the words.
“for you..” you ad-libbed right after him.
“give me that mornin' dew..” you both sang together, the blend of your vocals completely undeniable. it was a perfect match, a reminder of exactly why quincy had put you two together, and why you had been so attracted to each other years ago.
“you know that i want it.” you both continued, the low register of his voice vibrating in your ears, his eyes darkening as the lyrics grew heavier.
“i want you moanin' every mornin'...” you both sang, his voice dropping into a honest tone that turned you on.
hearing those words leave his lips ignited something inside of you, instantly melting your heart. it hit your composure, a reminder of how easily he could still pull your strings, and your mind completely drifted off to when he in fact, made you moan every moaning..
“again?” you teased, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips as the morning sun filtered through the cracks of the curtains. you were tangled in the messy white sheets, your skin still warm from the night before as michael suddenly rolled over and pulled your hips against his. you giggled softly as his hands found your waist, tugging you closer until there was no space left between you.
“c’mere then, ma.” michael whispered against your ear, his voice thick with sleep and desire. he trailed lazy kisses down your neck, his fingers tightening on your skin as he pulled you under him once more, turning your quiet giggles into loud moans before the day had even begun.
the track abruptly looped into a quiet transition, but you were still frozen, your heart racing as your mind raced to catch up with the present.
“y/n? whatcha thinking about over there, daughter?” quincy's amused voice cut through the monitors, snatching you right out of your thoughts.
your cheeks instantly flared a deep red as you cleared your dry throat. “mm.. q, sorry. i was just... just feeling the music.”
next to you, michael let out a soft chuckle that only made you more flustered. when you risked a tiny glance at him, you saw him lost in his own mind as well, his fingers nervously drumming against his thigh. he knew exactly what you were thinking about.
quincy shrugged, continuing to play the track as you both prepared for the next line.
“you know the sun rise for you..” you sang back, your voice a bit unstable under the weight of his stare, the raw tension in the booth becoming almost too hot to handle.
“give me that mornin' dew.” you both finished in a breathless harmony, the final note lingering in the air.
the track faded into the pre-recorded chorus, your blended voices pouring through the headphones in a seamless wave of sound. through the double paned glass, you could see quincy losing his mind, he was throwing his head back in approval, and grooving in his chair.
before the chorus could even finish winding down, quincy slapped the talkback button. “yes! that is what i'm talking about! the chemistry is perfect, y'all!” he barked out a laugh, completely oblivious to how hard your heart racing.
“we ain’t done yet though. y/n, stay right there. the beat is looping back. i need you to take this next part just on your own. michael, back off the mic and let her ride it.”
michael gave a slow nod, stepping back just half a pace, but he didn't take his eyes off you. his chest rose and fell in time with yours, waiting to see what you would do.
the beat dropped into a deeper groove, stripping away the heavy layers to leave the track completely open for you. you looked down at the lyric sheet, your eyes widening slightly as you read the next lines. they were extremely explicit, dripping with a raw sensuality that felt too dangerous to sing with michael standing in the same room as you.
you hesitantly leaned into the microphone, praying your voice wouldn't get weak on you. “ah, i get so excited when i feel you touch my thighs..” you sang, squeezing your eyes shut.
“my hands are cold, ma. can you warm them up for me?” michael asked, his voice a low octave as he held onto the steering wheel of his car. you nodded weakly, your breath catching in your throat as his large palm made contact with your skin, sliding slowly up from your knee. his hand was extremely cold, creating a slow path up your inner thigh. you whimpered, parting your legs slightly as his fingers moved higher, sliding underneath the hem of your skirt until he felt the soft fabric of your panties. “you're so wet for me, baby..” he groaned softly, his long fingers hooking into the lace, pressing against your the direct wetness as you let out a small moan.
from the corner of your eye, you saw michael's jaw tighten, his eyes locking onto yours as if he could see the exact memory playing in your head.
“baby, slow down 'cause i'ma be late for my ride.” you continued, holding the notes effortlessly, even though your mind was elsewhere.
you were on top of michael after begging him to let you be in control, the sudden shift of roles making your heart race as you sank down onto him. you were riding him passionately, the heat between you consuming the room. his large hands locked firmly onto your waist, his thumbs digging deep into your hips to guide your movements. he threw his head back against the pillows, a low groan ripping from his throat as you rode him harder, second guessing your decision to be on top from how deep it felt inside of you. “michael.. i..” you panted, biting your lip as you tried your best to handle the overwhelming sensation between your legs. “keep going, mama. you can take it.” he reassured, his voice thick with hunger as you slid up and down him in a rhythm that left the both of you completely breathless.
“i'm feelin' faded out my mind... a little morning dew..” you closed your eyes, the lyrics completely mirroring the sensations rushing through your body.
“there's a river inside that flows from our love... you can tap in but don't, don't tap out, oh.”
“don't stop, michael. please, don't stop.” you had whispered against his lips, unraveled as you chased your climax. he growled softly, flipping you onto your back without breaking the connection. his curls were sweaty as he pinned your wrists above your head, his body burying into yours with desperate thrusts. “you're taking me.. so well, baby.” he breathed heavily, a needy sound escaping him with every push. he kept pounding into you, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, his muscles tensing as he held himself deep inside you.
“it's a slip in the slide, that front to back love. right there baby, don't tap out, tap out.”
“right there, michael, please.” you begged, your back arching off the mattress, your voice breaking as he hit that sweet spot perfectly. “there? hm? you like that?” he asked, a dark smirk tracing his lips as he held your legs up high. he let out a loud moan as he thrust heavier and deeper into you, hitting the spot over and over again. “god, always so tight for me, mama.” he choked out until your body collapsed around him, his lips instantly kissing your forehead to tell you how good you did.
the final note lingered in the air as you opened your eyes and realised michael was staring right at you through the light of the booth. he knew. he had remembered every single second of it, too. the same question ran through both of your minds, maybe y’all should run it back?
hi! could you do something for fiona being flirty with a new witch at the academy 👀 she has some sort of ulterior motives, of course, but reader is too flustered to think about that right now. i loved your fiona x marie post btw!
Thank you so much!
"Well, what have we here?" A voice rich as satin made you look up from your place at the table, the tome you were reading temporarily forgotten about. Fiona Goode was watching you, her arms crossed as she appraised you like a predator searching for the weakest link in the herd.
"I couldn't sleep," you offered in response, lifting a shoulder and willing your heart to slow down before she could hear it hammering against your ribs. Your first reaction to the Supreme paying you a personal visit was to think of the mistakes you could have made, but when Fiona took a seat on the edge of the table, your mind quieted rather abruptly.
"Insomnia," she purred, the word a velvet caress. She shifted, one silk-clad leg brushing ever so slightly against your knee as she settled comfortably on the table. "A common ailment. But you... you don't seek warm milk or a boring little romance novel. You seek forbidden knowledge."
Her hand, cool and smooth, came to rest atop yours where it lay on the wooden table, trapping it gently. "Tell me, does your heart race like this when you read about the old rituals? Or is it the company that's got it all flustered?" Her gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, a playful, predatory gleam in her own. "A bright young thing like you, all alone in the dark with such dangerous words. You need a guide. Someone who knows which paths are worth walking and which are just deliciously dark diversions."
Your mind screamed danger, that this was the wolf and you were the deer, but you were frozen in place. "Who's to say it can't be both?" You managed, your cheeks aflame under her attention, and you looked down to your book to try and hide your flushed features.
Fiona’s laugh was a low, thrilling sound that seemed to vibrate in the space between you. “Oh, I like that,” she murmured, her fingers sliding from the back of your hand to gently tilt your chin back up, forcing you to meet her gaze. “A little brave. A little reckless. But I think we both know the answer."
tw|| age gap, karens, mentions of robbery, reader is a bitch to michael at first, michael also might comes off as slight creepy, talks of sugar daddies, lowkey delulu michael but only if you squint and tilt your head 45 degrees
hi!!!! first off everyone say thank you to @multifandomposts-blog for the mood board right neow!!!! anyways! mean girlfriend is back and i wanted to give a lil insight on how they met and the early stages of their relationship. i also wanted to give everyone a look as to why she’s so mean and no nonsense sometimes despite having her own immature moments. now i hope you all like it and im gonna take a nap cuz i had to work outside today and it was nearly 100 degrees😭
“Ma’am I can’t-”
“Every time I come here it’s an issue!”
It was times like this you regret not taking your friend seriously when she suggested finding sugar daddies. You currently were at your ‘main’ job and when you got home you’d clock into your other two which were babysitting and a remote gig that honestly sounded shady as hell but between taking care of your family and school you were too desperate to care.
Your eye twitched at the woman’s shrill voice. Your hands clenching the counter tightly as you held yourself back from jumping across and giving her the real combo she deserves. You heard the familiar sound of another customer coming in. It was a man dressed like he was fit to rob the place. Dark hoodie, dark sweats, black surgical mask, the whole shebang. You inwardly groaned. The shit you deal with thirty minutes before closing.
‘I swear to god if this motherfucker even thinks of robbing this store today I’m deep frying myself…’ You thought.
“I want to speak to a manager!”
Oh right. You fought yourself mentally. Putting on the biggest smile you could you spoke in your customer service voice, “Sure! Let me go get her for you!” You then crouched down before popping back up. “Hi! What seems to be the problem ma’am?”
The soon to be criminal snorted and turned away.
“I-you! This isn’t a joke! I want the manager!”
“You’re looking at her! I also opened, cooked and worked drive thru until I finally managed to call someone in because everyone else called out! On top of that I’m closing by myself and not getting paid a single cent extra for it so I’m asking again lady what seems to be the problem?!” There goes that twitching eye again.
The entitled Karen turned her nose up, “Well I never!”
“‘Well I never!’ You just have! Have the night you deserve!” You mocked her as she stormed off. You turned your back to the robber walking forward as you tried calming yourself, “If you’re planning on telling me to open the register and give you all the money I suggest you go to Burger King next door and try that shit cuz I’m not in the mood today!” Your tone deceptively sweet as you say it in a sing songy way. Soothing yourself as best as you can.
“Oh no! I actually want to place an order.” A soft voice replied. An unmistakable voice. An iconic voice.
Turning you look at the man a little closer as he stood at the counter. Those big bright eyes immediately gave him away. You looked him up and down quickly before letting out a soft sigh, “Yeah, sorry. Long day. What can I get you?” Your tone much less sarcastic and hostile.
While he ordered your body went on autopilot as your mind debated on confirming it’s really Michael Jackson and asking for a picture or just taking his order so he can leave and you can try to start cleaning as soon as possible.
“And theeeen…” you honed back in and noticed he’d actually tugged his mask down confirming your beliefs. His fingers drummed on the counter as he looked at the menu, “a strawberry milkshake!” he finished with a devastating smile. He looked so handsome and sweet.
That’s what made this next part harder.
Your finger hovered over the button hesitant to actually push down. You sighed and looked up at him, “I’m a huge fan and any other day I’d probably give you that shake and your entire order for free but I just cleaned the ice cream machine, literally order anything else!” You practically begged.
In stead of getting mad or disappointed like you thought he would, he just laughed shaking his head. He waved it off, “You’re fine. That was probably my sign not to get one tonight.”
“Oh my god! Y-you’re you!”
You sighed. A deep, loud, exhausted sigh. You visibly sagged while sighing.
It was your drive-thru girl, Kenzie. The same Kenzie that not only came in two hours later than she originally told you but also backed out oh helping you close tonight.
“Can I have a picture?!”
“Yeah of cou-”
“No.”
They both froze. Michael gave a small laugh, “It’s fine really. I don’t mind!”
You cut your eyes at him before looking at Kenzie where she stood changed out of her uniform and holding a bag of food, “But I do. I mind a lot.”
She pulled a face, “(Name) wha-”
“You told me you could come in at 12:00 you got here at 2:00, you’ve barely cleaned anything, and you’ve backed out of helping me close because ‘your mom is sick’.” You used finger quotes while watching her face morph as you clocked her tea. “Now I’m not gonna write you up for being late because I don’t feel like getting on that stupid ass computer and doing that right now…” You explain with a sickeningly sweet and patronizing tone, “but if you think you’re gonna play in my face like you have today and get a picture with Michael fucking Jackson you’ve lost your damn mind.” You blinked twice. “Now clock out and leave before I feel petty enough to give you your third strike and have to call in the regional manager.”
They both swallowed thickly.
You then turned towards Michael his hand still frozen in the air holding out his card. You plucked it from his fingers nonchalantly and charged it, “And I may be a fan but if I find out she got a picture or autograph from you after this…we’re gonna have a problem.” You squinted at him before handing back his card with a receipt. Turning with a small huff as you walked to the back.
The two looked at each other nervously. Kenzie then hesitantly spoke, “uhh…I-I don’t need that picture…”
He quickly nodded agreeing, “Yeah you weren’t gonna get it after all that anyways.”
By the time you had prepared and bagged his meal up it was close to closing and the dread of cleaning and preparing everything by yourself must have been written on your face.
“You’re really the only one here now?” He looked so concerned it almost made you laugh. “That doesn’t sound legal.”
You shrugged, “Maybe not but I don’t have many for an attorney and it’s the best job that fits my schedule.” Rolling your shoulders and head to loosen up.
“It’s not safe…” he mumbled picking with the bag as he stared at you. His brows beginning to furrow.
You laughed an actual genuine laugh. “You’re one to talk Mr. King of Pop. I don’t see your security around.” A raised brow and smirk on your face. You grabbed the broom and walked out to the lobby.
“Well that’s different!”
“Different how?”
“Well I’m a man!”
“Ahhh….so you’re sexist?” You turn to notice he followed you over from the counter. When he began to stammer you cut him off with laughter, “I’m just playing! I wouldn’t have any of the female staff close neither but…” you shrugged again. “I do what I gotta do.” You glanced at the clock and noticed it was officially closing time. “It was a dream meeting you but we’re closed and I can’t have any customers here after hours.”
Despite the little conflicted look in his eyes he gave you and small and said his goodbyes leaving you alone in the building.
After nearly two hours of cleaning and an hour of prepping for tomorrow you were finished. You walked like a zombie out of the building. Your car right where you left it but oddly enough there was another one. A nicer one.
Just as you paused trying to process the possible crime you might be victim to the door open and out stepped Michael with a small smile on his face. You walked closer with a scrunched up face, “You’re still here?”
He but his lip and wrung his hands together, “I couldn’t in good conscience let you walk out here alone. You’re a pretty girl and there’s weirdos out there with bad intentions.”
“So you, a man who’s technically a stranger, decides to wait outside for me?” You deadpanned.
“….it didn’t sound as creepy in my head.” He defended himself with a small shrug. His eyes then gleamed with something new, “I wouldn’t be a stranger if I had your number.”
You let out a shocked bark of laughter but nodded, “No. We would at least be acquaintances then.”
“That’s the step before friend.”
You smirked at him, “Something tells me you don’t want to stop at just friends.” But you listened to the butterflies in your tummy and unlocked your car door to grab a pen. “You gotta pen?”
He held out his hand. You laughed again, “Jeez your hand is huge!” You began to gently write your number onto his palm. When you finish you look at him batting your lashes, “call me around this time most nights and I’ll answer. The weekends are my cram sessions for school so you’ll have to try your luck then.”
He gave an impressed look as he nodded, “College girl? Beauty and brains, I like it.”
You covered your face bashfully, “Oh please! You already got my number you don’t have to lay it on so thick!”
janet and reader meet and reader does one of janet’s tattoos or piercings it can be her nipple one her septum one of her christina one 🫣🤭lol it doesn’t matter and during the session reader and janet have some tension as they talk about certain things regarding pleasure and they do it right there in the shop
any time, any place ❥ janet jackson
PAIRING: 90s!janet jackson x black!fem!reader
SUMMARY: inspired by her song “Any Time, Any Place” + in which Janet comes to your shop and asks you to pierce her navel, but things start to heat up between the two of you after a suggestive comment from her. 🩷
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i saw this TikTok & the words “dom fem” jumped out at me… so that alone should tell you how this is gonna go 🌚
you maneuvered around your room of the piercing shop as you cleaned up the area, sterilizing your equipment that were used on the last customer you had and disinfecting the piercing seat. you hummed quietly under your breath to a song that had been stuck in your head for the past hour, but the sound of footsteps made you pause mid-hum as you turned your head and locked eyes with your coworker Mandy, who was approaching your area.
“hey, i’m about to leave. just wanted to let you know before i actually left you here all alone,” Mandy smiled, making you smile back at her, as you hummed softly in response and tossed away your disinfectant wipes before pulling off your gloves and tossing those as well, “see you tomorrow, honey.”
“see you tomorrow, Mandy.” you grinned as you waved her goodbye and she waved back before walking away, her footsteps growing quieter and eventually disappearing once she walked out of the shop.
it wasn’t unusual for you to work the closing shift alone, but the silence that followed when your last coworker would leave felt deafening. after busy days, you didn’t mind it very much, but there would also be days where you got used to the noise and needed something to fill the quietness, so you’d eventually end up playing music from the little speaker you had stashed in your bag.
however, before you could reach for it, the sound of rhythmic chiming bells caught your attention, symbolizing that someone had come into the shop, and you raised your head as the sound of the bell at the front counter being tapped twice hit your ears.
turning your head, the clock on the wall read ‘8:10 P.M.’, approximately 50 minutes before closing time, and your eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion at the revelation. who the hell would be getting a piercing this late at night?
nonetheless, you left your section and walked down the hallway towards the front counter as your mouth instinctually opened to greet the customer inside the shop, but you paused once you realized who the culprit was that came to visit you this late.
Janet.
“i’m not too late, am i?” Janet’s soft honey-like vocals filled your ears with a teasing tone and you grinned in response as you let out a soft chuckle and walked around the front counter to get a better look at her, leaning up against it and crossing your arms.
“i should’ve known you’d pull somethin’ like this.” you laughed lightly as you slightly shook your head and Janet grinned innocently at you, a soft giggle falling from her mouth.
“somethin’ like what?”
“like comin’ to see me during closing time ‘cause you know i’ll be the only one here.”
Janet’s innocent grin contorted into a proud smile at your words and she raised her hands in defense, though you could tell she was only bluffing, “can’t i just come by and get my belly pierced like every other customer?”
that question would’ve harmless if anyone else had asked it, but because it was Janet asking, you knew she was only teasing you. she wasn’t a normal customer, and the relationship the two of you had wasn’t necessarily “normal” either — you were only supposed to be friends and nothing more, but recently, some tension had somehow spiked between the two of you and it seemed to only intensify as time progressed.
nonetheless, you acted oblivious to the shift between you and Janet to preserve your friendship with her, but Janet didn’t. in fact, she was the reason the tension had been spiking and intensifying because she’d go out of her way to do or say something to you that she knew would arouse you and make you timid, which always worked because she knew just how to get you and just how to read you.
“you couldn’t have come earlier to get your belly pierced?” you playfully huffed, turning on the heels of your feet, as you gestured for Janet to follow you and the two of you walked down the hallway towards your section of the piercing shop.
“you want your shop to be swarmed ‘cause people saw Janet Jackson come in?” Janet asked in amusement, emphasizing her name, as you snorted and you let out a giggle, slightly shaking your head while she smiled triumphantly, “that’s what i thought. now c’mon and piercing my belly!”
“girl, don’t rush me,” you laughed, peering over your shoulder and playfully glaring at Janet, as the two of you walked inside your section and you walked towards the sink in the room to wash your hands and put on gloves, “go sit your impatient ass in that chair and gimme’ a sec.”
“actually, i have a question before we get started,” Janet announced as she walked towards the chair but didn’t move to actually take a seat, her pretty eyes remaining on you and watching your every move, “if you don’t mind, of course.”
your hand paused against the handle of the sink before you could turn faucet on and your head turned as you looked back at Janet, who now hand an unreadable look on her face, “what is it?”
“well, some of my friends told me that my stomach’s too… toned for a belly button piercing, and that they think my body’ll reject the piercing because of it,” Janet explained as she rested one of her hands against her hips and used her other hand to nudge the hem of her top up just enough to expose her belly button, “you think that’ll happen?”
“J, that depends on your anatomy and the healing process, not how toned your abs are,” you chuckled softly, letting go of the sink’s faucet handle, as you walked over to her and squatted down in front of her, gently resting one of your hands against her lower stomach and critically eyeing her belly button, “i’ve seen plenty of belly buttons to know that there’s nothin’ wrong with yours. whoever said that clearly isn’t a piercer.”
Janet looked down at you silently for a moment before her mouth curled up into an enticing smirk and she reached down as she pushed your hair out of your face and trailed her fingers down to your jaw, hooking them underneath your chin and slightly tilting your head back to properly look up at her.
“you look really good down there, y’know that, baby?” Janet asked sultrily, slightly tilting her head, as she gently bit down on her bottom lip and your breathing caught at her words, realizing you had fallen right into her trap without even thinking twice, “anybody ever told you that before or am i your first?”
“…Janet,” you huffed softly, a small sheepish grin reluctantly finding its way into your face, as you looked up at her and watched her smirk slightly widen, “you did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“in my defense, someone did actually tell me that. but yeah, i did this on purpose,” Janet chuckled lightly as her thumb gently rubbed against your chin and her fingers splayed across your jaw, “you didn’t answer my question though, pretty girl.”
you parted your lips to speak but paused for a moment, the position you were crouching in suddenly dawning on you and making you more timid, “…you’re my first…”
“can i be your first somethin’ else?” Janet cooed teasingly as her other hand grabbed yours on her abdomen and she lowered it to the waistband of her low-rise jeans, causing your breathing to hitch for a second time while your eyes flickered between her face and her hand on top of yours.
“my… first what?” you asked quietly, your voice now barely audible, as Janet smirked at you and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth again, slightly adjusting her hold on your face and resting her thumb against your jaw instead.
“the first girl you’ve ever eaten out at your job.”
you don’t remember how it all went down — quite frankly, it happened so fast that you were still trying to wrap your head around everything — but all you could focus on at the moment was the sound of Janet’s moans, her filthy praise, and the way her hands held onto your hair and guided your mouth wherever she wanted it.
her legs were spread wide and dangled off of the side of the chair as you sat on your knees with your mouth attached to her center, your lips and tongue working feverishly just like she wanted it while your arms sat wrapped around her thighs to keep them open. her fingers were tangled in your hair, occasionally tugging at a few strands and earning pathetic whimpers from you, and one of her hands shifted to hold onto the back of your head as she moaned out and looked down at you, watching you eagerly devour her just as she ordered you to.
“oh, look at you, baby,” Janet moaned as she lightly nipped at her bottom lip and rolled her hips against your face, “such a good girl f’me… so eager to please me with that pretty mouth you got.”
you moaned against her at her words and your eyes flitted upward to meet hers as you opened your mouth a bit wider and aimed to cover her entire center in warmth, your tongue darting out and laying flatly while you began sloppily french-kissing Janet’s slick pussy. suckling and wet, squelching sounds filled the room and echoed off of the walls as Janet’s moans harmonized with the noises, all of them combining to create a sound of pleasure and harmony.
“uh-huh, that’s it. keep goin’, baby, i’m almost there… oooh, you gon’ make me cum all over your pretty lil’ face.”
“mmh, look at you down there… even with your face all wet, you’re so damn beautiful, honey.”
“a-ah!— right there, baby! oh, yes! yes, y-yesss!”
Janet continued to moan out to you and fill your ears with the dirtiest praise you’ve ever had a woman say to you until her orgasm eventually rocketed through her and she came on your face, a shudder rushing through her body while her head fell back and her back slightly arched.
a small furrow formed between her eyebrows and a soft mewl fell from her lips as her jaw went slack and her legs slightly jerked due to her orgasmic aftershocks, a heavy exhale falling from her lips while you slowly ate her through her lustful daze.
if there was one thing you were completely sure about at the moment… it was that nobody could ever know about what happened here tonight.
mdni,, content warning: smut, brief ab riding, fingering, massaging, not proof-read, border credits <3 : @pixopix
massuse!janet helps you achieve your happy ending <3
massuse!janet who smirks every time you walk into her shop. you show up wearing a baseball cap and glasses as if trying to arrive in disguise. she can spot you from a mile away, your shy demeanor giving you away every time when you walk towards her shop the same way a sinner walks into confession. you mumble a shy greeting trying to ignore the slickness costing your panties as she grabs your hand to guide you to the back
massuse!janet who dimmed the lights while you undress, letting the candles spaced out throughout the room be the main light source. being sure to compliment your body as your laid out against table, if nothing else to see the way you become undone for her before even being touched
massuse!janet turning on love deluxe for background noise as she starts to slide her oiled up hands up & down your body. searching for knots she can press into to her your pretty little moans.
massuse!janet who notices you start to squirm as she kneads the oil into your glazed body. feigning innocence when she asks you if everything was alright, making you say out loud what you want from her
she watches as you turn over, carelessly pushing the blanket off the table as you spread yourself out for her. full breasts on display with pebbled nipples. her gaze drops to your legs, smiling softly as you parted them for her. your inner thighs completely covered in slick
massuse!janet who eagerly tackles this new knot of yours. rubbing a finger through your center, admiring the shine from the slickness now coating it. looking you in the eyes as she sucks the slick off of it
massuse!janet dousing her hand in oil again before returning her attention to you. running her slick hand all over you until every nerve and fold is coated in the mix of your slick & the massage oil
massuse!janet who bits her lip as she takes in your opening pulsing practically begging for more. she rubbed her palm against you carelessly, smirking as you whine for more
massuse!janet who finally decides to stop teasing you. slipping two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly as she feels you contract around her fingers. she goes faster when you finally start to let out those pretty noises for her
massuse!janet who takes her fingers out right before you were about to cum. you don't get much time to complain before she's pulling off her scantily clad tank top before she's moving you into her lap as she lays down on the massage table. ordering you to use her and if you want to cum so bad
massuse!janet who grips your hips as you ride her, making sure you went slow enough to feel each individual ab press against your aching clit before you finally came
massuse!janet who cleans you the mess you made up, claiming she can't find your panties as she helps you get redressed. you notice them sticking out of her back pocket as she walks you to the door
you can't help but think to yourself what an expensive habit these massage appointments are going to turn into if you end up losing your panties every time you come here
fin
a/n: i saw someone talk about riding her abs & felt inspired. there's like nothing on here for her so i decided to post this quick blurb. idk how it escalated to massuse but y'know
sfw / black fem batwoman!reader x catwoman!janet jackson, fluff ) this is not a hear me out, this is a YOU WILL LISTEN.
catwoman!janet who loves to tease you even as you’re trying to apprehend her. “you can’t deny there’s something between us,” she coos, only to laugh when you reply “yes, the law”.
catwoman!janet who maybe doesn’t mind being thrown over your shoulder and carried away from whatever museum, art gallery, or high end jewelry store she was trying to rob. it just gives her an excuse to trace her nails down whatever muscles she can reach (your abs, especially— it’s fascinating, how much you refuse to respond).
catwoman!janet who knows you’ll never be too harsh with her. she figured that much out after your first run in. “too scared of a proper catfight?” she’d asked, poking fun at how restrained you were being, “or am i just a special case?” after the second fight, she realized that she really was a special case for you. unfortunately for you, janet never hesitates to use that fact to her advantage.
catwoman!janet who’s not as bad as she might seem. she cares for the slums, stands up for the prostitutes of gotham and others who are often overlooked. she might use a violent or unlawful method of protecting them, but her heart is in the right place, always. she’s more than a petty thief.
catwoman!janet who purrs in delight upon finally pinning gotham’s hero in the night, batwoman. when she finally unmasks you and realizes you’re also gotham’s favorite billionaire playgirl, miss wayne, her only smirk grows. “tonight just got even better.”
batwoman!reader who views the entirety of gotham as her own territory. her city. of course, she’d take such special care of it; she’s quite protective of what’s hers.
batwoman!reader who’s stoic, sarcastic, and blunt as batwoman and bubbly, ditzy, and charming as her billionaire persona, the marvelous miss wayne. her true personality is merely a blend of both sides. batwoman always lurks one layer beneath the mask of miss wayne; it’s clear in how she operates in business meetings, playful while also being cutthroat.
batwoman!reader who once offered catwoman!janet a rather expensive necklace if she gave up crime for a week (we’ve all done crazy things to spend more time with a crush, okay?). after carefully putting it on janet’s neck herself, she murmured a small, neutral, “there you go.” on the inside? she was melting.
batwoman!reader who’s had jewelry and clothing stolen by catwoman!janet. well, “miss wayne” had her clothing and jewelry stolen. it’s attractive, though, seeing her in it later that night while confronting her. “that’s not yours,” batwoman!reader had scolded. it could be, though, if things weren’t so complex…
batwoman!reader who visits and donates to local orphanages often as both batwoman and miss wayne. children will be and always have been very precious to her; the issues of children are ones she thinks of often. gotham is her city, and its children are hers, too.
the vibes for batwoman!reader as “miss wayne” btw:
author’s note ) finally got around to this and i’m absolutely in love with it… i just know janet could/would embody catwoman so well. my brain is a tool that can turn ANYTHING into yuri.
