THE FORBIDDEN BABYSITTER
PART 1.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — mature era michael jackson x black 𝒇!reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — you’re a college student who decided to get a side job as a babysitter for a couple months. you start working for this single dad, but little did you know.. he started catching huge feelings for you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — smut, 18+, a bit of fluff, fingering, pussy eating, finger sucking, porn w plot, older! michael, flirting, kissing, handjob! m doing it to himself while thinking of you, just a bit filthy.
a/n — this story is inspired by @fictionchic on tiktok 𑣲
i knew, of course i knew my boss liked me. the way he would stare a little too long when i walked into the kitchen in the morning. the way his voice got softer whenever he said my name. the way he always found a reason to stay in the room a few extra minutes when i was putting the kids down for bed. michael never said it out loud, but it was there in the quiet looks and the careful distance he tried to keep between us.
i’d been babysitting for him for almost three months. college was expensive and the pay was good, plus the mansion was beautiful and the three kids were actually sweet once you got used to their different personalities.
prince was the oldest, quiet, observant, always the first to notice when something felt off. paris was the middle child, dramatic, constantly asking questions and bossing her brothers around.
blanket was the youngest, still small enough to climb into my lap without asking and fall asleep against my chest with sticky fingers. michael was a single dad who worked long hours making music and he trusted me more than most people.
i never expected the way my stomach flipped every time he came home early and smiled at me like he was relieved i was still there.
that night started normal. i made the kids dinner, spaghetti and garlic bread because it was the only thing all three would eat without complaining. after, i helped prince with his homework at the big kitchen table while paris colored loudly and blanket tried to eat the crayons. baths came next. prince went first and was in and out in ten minutes.
paris took forever, talking the entire time about school drama. blanket splashed water everywhere and made me laugh until my sides hurt. finally i got them settled in their rooms. prince fell asleep after one chapter of his book.
paris needed two stories and a glass of water. blanket took the longest, but eventually his little breathing evened out against my shoulder before i laid him down.
the house was quiet when i stepped into the hallway. the only light came from under michael’s bedroom door. i was heading downstairs to clean up the kitchen when i noticed it was cracked open.
the soft sound of his breathing and a low, broken moan stopped me cold. i shouldn’t have looked. i knew i shouldn’t have looked. but my feet didn’t move.
he was on the bed, shirt off, pants pushed down just enough. one hand was wrapped around his dick, stroking slow and tight. his head was tilted back, his black hair messy against the pillow, eyes closed. and he was saying my name. quiet, like a secret he didn’t mean to say out loud. over and over while his hand moved faster.
my heart slammed so hard i almost dropped the laundry basket in my hands. i pulled the door shut as quietly as i could and hurried downstairs, face burning, pretending i hadn’t seen a single thing. i cleaned the kitchen on autopilot, washed the dishes twice, and finally went to the guest room i stayed in when the nights ran late. sleep didn’t come easy.
the next morning was awkward as hell.
i was in the big kitchen making pancakes while the kids played on the floor with toys. prince was quietly building something with blocks in the corner.
paris was bossing blanket around, telling him which toys he was allowed to touch. blanket ignored her and tried to put a plastic dinosaur in his mouth.
michael walked in wearing a soft black shirt and sweatpants, his hair still a little damp from the shower. our eyes met for half a second and both of us looked away too fast.
“morning,” he said, voice a little rough.
“morning,” i answered, focusing hard on the pan. “pancakes are almost done. syrup’s on the table.”
he poured himself coffee and leaned against the counter, watching the kids instead of me. every time our hands almost brushed reaching for the same plate, the air got heavier. he cleared his throat once.
i almost spilled the syrup. neither of us mentioned last night. the kids kept talking over each other, completely unaware of the tension sitting between the adults in the room.
after breakfast he helped buckle them into the car and drove them to school. i stayed behind to clean up, heart still racing. when the front door opened again and i heard only one set of footsteps, my stomach dropped.
michael walked into the kitchen slowly, keys still in his hand. he set them down on the counter and looked at me for a long moment. the silence stretched.
“you saw me last night,” he said quietly. it wasn’t a question.
i swallowed, wiping my hands on a towel even though they were already dry. “i… i closed the door. i didn’t mean to walk in. i was just putting the laundry away and the door was open and—”
“i know.” he stepped closer, voice low. “i’ve been trying not to want you like that. you’re younger. you’re here for the kids. but i can’t stop thinking about you. it’s getting harder to pretend i don’t.”
the space between us disappeared. he reached out and brushed a curl behind my ear, fingers lingering against my cheek. then he kissed me. soft at first, testing, then deeper when i kissed him back. his hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer until my back hit the edge of the counter.
“tell me to stop,” he whispered against my mouth.
i didn’t.
he lifted me onto the counter, pushed my skirt up, and dropped to his knees between my legs. his hands were careful but hungry as he pulled my panties to the side.
the first slow drag of his tongue made me gasp out loud. he licked me like he’d been thinking about it for weeks — long, thorough strokes from my entrance all the way up to my clit, then focused there, sucking gently while two fingers slid inside me.
“you taste even better than i imagined,” he murmured against me, voice filthy and soft at the same time. he curled his fingers just right, pumping them slow while his tongue worked in steady circles.
every time i moaned he answered with a quiet praise. “that’s it… let me hear you angel. i’ve been dying to make you feel good like this.”
he took his time. no rushing. just fingers and tongue until my thighs were shaking around his head and i came hard, one hand buried in his curls. he kept licking me through it, gentler now, then stood up and held his wet fingers to my lips.
“suck.” he said quietly.
i did, tasting myself while he watched me with dark eyes. he kissed me after, slow and deep, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real.
he rested his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “we shouldn’t do more than this yet,” he said. “not until we talk properly. but i needed to touch you. i couldn’t keep pretending.”
i nodded, still catching my breath. “okay.”
he kissed me one more time, softer, then helped me down from the counter. the kitchen was quiet except for our breathing. outside, the morning sun kept rising over the mansion grounds, and for the first time since i started working here, it felt like something changed between us.
