twenty two ╱ gemini ♡ lover of baby pink n sunshine
hi angels, welcome to my blog! i write primarily for jaafar jackson and 1970s-80s michael jackson. requests are currently closed, but usually i do welcome them. ♡ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ i write f!reader fics only, and keep to light smut themes, therefore no inclusion of dark or violent kinks.
a glimpse into a day in the honeymoon phase with you and your beau. includes fluff & soft smut, with a lil bit of angsty undertones, where you show your baby just how perfect he is, even if he keeps refusing to listen. ❤︎ ╱ unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.
— tw: inclusion of michael’s eating disorder
"mikey, baby..." you giggled breathlessly as you felt the softness of your boyfriend's tongue playfully kissing over the most sensitive areas of your neck. it was a cosy rainy day, so you were cuddled up in your bed, surrounded by teddies and pillows, the decor a chaotic mess from your pillow fight just thirty minutes prior. you both lay on your sides, but almost on top of each other in the manner that your limbs were interwoven, and also in how your lips didn't dare to be apart for more than a few seconds. the only sounds were wet kisses, sighs, and the comforting patter of rain on the window.
your hands were threaded comfortably through his dark curls, and you couldn't stop giggling at the ticklish yet sensual sensation stemming from his head's position beneath your jaw, still pressing kisses to your skin. he couldn't get enough of you.
"hm?” michael murmured into your neck, running his hands up and down your torso. you hadn’t been together that long, but you were both obsessed with each other, craving each other’s touch all the time. and michael was oxymoronically both a shy and passionate lover—there was passion in everything he said and did to you, but outside of sex he was often hesitant to commit sensual actions, such as gripping your ass (even as much as he wanted to) or squeezing your breasts. he overthought a lot of things, and never wanted to cross a boundary.
now though, he’d become so lost in you that for him this moment was akin to the intimacy of sex itself, and so he squeezed and grabbed at your ass through the fabric of your tiny denim shorts. you laughed airily as he did.
one of the biggest elements of your adoration for michael was that very coalescence of shyness and heated passion. his songs and stage persona spoke of the latter, and generally he embodied the former, but when it was just the two of you, him so immersed in your body, the depth of his devotion would be enacted.
“stop it, michael,” you said through breathless sighs as he started to nip at you, “i wanna see your pretty face.”
reluctantly, michael paused his bestowing of affection, and pulled back to look at you. a wide smile was brought to your face, while michael’s was bashful. he shook his head.
“why are you shaking your head?”
“callin’ me pretty…” he muttered, embarrassed. his face was still lit up, but his eyes looked a little melancholy. you hated whenever he got like that, which for michael was way more often than one should experience. and in relation to that, michael often forgot that a romantic relationship wasn’t a one-way thing—you felt for him the way he did for you, and you would never hesitate to demonstrate that.
it really did upset you, though—how he despised his looks so much. a few years ago he’d had rhinoplasty to thin out his beautiful nose, and while of course he still looked as angelic as ever—he always would—you wished you could’ve been with him at the time to convince him not to go ahead with that surgery.
“baby, don’t start that with me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek. “what did i say? every time i tell you how pretty you are, you must take it with no arguments, okay?” you rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone, before gently squeezing.
he smiled, but there was a bone-deep tiredness in his eyes that entwined with the melancholy. he had been so busy lately, and you knew he wasn’t taking care of himself. that was further evident in how quiet he’d been today, and you felt a pang of worry that he might’ve been buried in your neck for reasons other than for your pleasure.
that was true, although he wouldn’t admit it. he’d rested on your chest before settling his exhausted face into your neck in order for you to neither see how bad he supposedly looked, and so that you didn’t worry too much about the visible depletion due to over-exerting himself in rehearsal and onstage while he deliberately starved.
but while you were only in the honeymoon phase, so early on in your relationship, you knew michael well enough already. and of course it wasn’t all of a sudden in this moment that his fatigue had expressed itself in his appearance—so hiding it from you now was useless.
the two of you looked at each other, you gazing into a pair of sad eyes, and michael gazing into a pair of softly concerned ones.
“sweet boy,” you said quietly, before cupping his chin now and kissing his angel lips, both of you relishing in the comfort of how your legs were weaved as if the limbs were one. and michael was again glad that you seemed to be initiating a makeout, because that meant less time for you to think about other things that he knew you would, regarding his health.
“honey…” he murmured in between kisses, slipping in his tongue as you sighed and played with his hair.
but after a couple of minutes, you pulled back. no, you weren’t going to spend the rest of your time together with only kisses while without words. you knew he wasn’t doing well, and you wouldn’t allow him to distract his way out of the gentle confrontation you had to approach him with.
as soon as you pulled away, he held you by your neck and resumed the kiss without question. but again, you ended it.
“wha’s wrong, baby?” he furrowed his brows.
“nothing, michael—you know i could kiss you all day,” you smiled softly, but your heart ached as you looked at him.
you busied yourself with twirling one of his curls while you braced yourself for the question you were about to ask, because you knew it would make him uncomfortable. you hated to see your baby upset or put in a difficult position, but you needed to broach the subject all the same.
“then why’d y’ stop?” he asked in that beautiful, angelic cadence of his, pressing a sweet kiss to the button of your nose.
“because i need to talk to you about something.” now you interlocked your fingers with his, and his face grew concerned.
you took a deep breath. “have you eaten today?”
michael instantly averted his eyes from you, looking instead at the comforter below.
you squeezed his hand and kissed him again, momentarily this time. “no. look at me.”
reluctantly, he did.
“now answer me, michael,” you sighed, with the soothing rhythm of running your thumb over the skin of his jaw and his cheek. you didn’t want to press him like this, but you were seriously concerned. you knew that since childhood he’d had very disordered habits around eating, but recently you noticed that days passed where you could’ve sworn he hadn’t eaten a thing. and what concerned you now was that yesterday was a sunday, and for michael sundays were for fasting.
“haven’t gotten round to it yet,” he murmured, still trying to look away but each time he attempted to, you gently repositioned his attention with your gentle hand.
and michael couldn’t lie to you like he could with most people, because since he couldn’t stand to be apart from you—so deeply in love that he was—you spent virtually all your time together. even while he was still so busy, he had you with him at all times. so now, he knew that you were aware he likely hadn’t eaten. you were asking him to answer for you, but you were pretty certain already. really, the most important thing to you was that he could confront the issue and hopefully nourish his body at least a little, and even if it was for no other reason than that his girl requested it of him.
“honey,” you whispered, moving as close as you could to his warm, thin body, despite how close you were already. you held him by the nape of his neck, your other hand still holding his. “it’s four in the afternoon.”
“yeah. i’ll eat a little somethin’ later.”
“how about now?” you suggested gently. “you’re so exhausted, baby, i can see it in your face. and you have such a long day tomorrow at the studio.”
“’m not really hungry,” he muttered, but he hated being this way with you—all miserable and quiet. he was usually only ever whimsical and happy in your presence.
“that doesn’t matter when you haven’t eaten in almost two days, michael.”
your gaze never left him, and he felt anxious underneath it, but he understood that it stemmed from how much you cared.
except, he just didn’t want to eat. he deliberately used starvation as punishment and as a form of control over his chaotic existence—he had done so for years—but the restriction also tied into how he was so specific about what he ate and what it would do to his dancer’s physique. and there were also many days where he’d forget to eat simply due to obsessing over his craft. that had definitely contributed this time, but there were always a multitude of aspects.
“i know,” he smiled slightly.
“let me make you something. we can eat together, okay?”
he didn’t seem to like that suggestion, as you expected, but he nodded. “somethin’ vegetarian?”
“duh,” you grinned. “you’re my baby—i know you well enough.”
a sweet smile grew on your boyfriend’s face at that, and your heart felt that it melted. you pecked his lips several times, producing a warm laugh from his previously deflated voice.
“i love you,” you whispered. “i just wanna keep you safe and hold you here forever.”
“likewise, pretty mama.” his happy face had returned properly, and it only propelled your own further.
“mikey, don’t try to distract me now,” you laughed, squeezing his cheek. he knew how words like those, in that beautiful fucking voice of his, got you all worked up.
“that’s not what i’m doin’, honeypie,” he teased further. another thing you adored about your boyfriend was his frequent use of the cutest pet names, ones your past lovers had never used with you, and therefore forever associated with only michael.
you squinted at him playfully, nudging his bicep. “alright, i’m off to go play my ten-minute part as michael jackson’s personal chef.”
“nooo,” michael groaned, quickly pulling you snug against him so that you were flush to his chest, laid on top of his whole body. he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly so you couldn’t move. and you didn’t want to either, but your need to make him eat something overwhelmed your desire to stay cuddled up.
“mikey, it’s only ten minutes, baby,” you chuckled.
“ten minutes where i’ll be alone without you,” he frowned.
“i’m sure you’ll survive,” you grinned with a wink, before kissing his forehead, his nose and lips. then you laughed. “wink for me, baby.”
michael rolled his eyes lightheartedly. your boy never could wink, and the sight of him trying to do so always tickled you. it had stemmed from the first time you’d met, and to impress you he attempted it with the vision of looking sexy, but he ended up just blinking both eyelids. you found it hilarious, but of course it didn’t stop him from exuding the sex appeal that had drawn you to him even before you met. all his little quirks had really only amplified the way you felt about him.
now he tried to do it again at your request, but of course to no avail. all he did was blink both eyes, and together you laughed, while you still laid on top of him.
michael seized the moment to begin another passionate kiss, slipping in his tongue almost instantly, and at first, you fell for it, swirling yours with his, moaning softly into the peaceful embrace of your mouths meeting.
but then you remembered the task at hand. “nope!” you jumped off of him and stood up. “i’m going to the kitchen. you’ll see me in ten minutes.”
as you walked away, you heard michael groan again, and you chuckled to yourself.
in the kitchen you made him a tofu salad sandwich, and you sat cuddled up with him while he ate it. he did so as slow as ever, but at least he was eating. you played with his hair to distract him from his thoughts, and kissed his nose every so often to watch his bright energy light up in his eyes even if only briefly.
he didn’t finish the sandwich, but you hadn’t expected him to. you were just glad to have seen him consume most of it, because you couldn’t stand to see him so malnourished.
he was silent afterward, adding onto the comfortable silence you’d been in while he’d eaten, and you wondered if he was upset about something. he looked deep in thought.
“baby?” you asked from beside him, scratching at his scalp now in the way he always loved.
“yeah?” he replied softly, kissing your hand.
“something on your mind?”
“a few things.” michael started to smile.
“like what?” you furrowed your brows in amusement, because you knew that look on his face all too well.
“like,” he pressed several open-mouthed kisses up your arm from your wrist, “i wanna go down on you right now.”
you chuckled. “and that’s the first thing you thought of after eating that sandwich?”
“yeah. dessert,” he murmured against your skin, breathing you in happily. he was in a better mood now, and you smiled at him with just as much elation.
“well, if you’d like…”
michael grinned wider, pulling you into a kiss. you laughed into his mouth and pulled back to point something out. “but wait ten minutes, honey. you don’t want indigestion.”
michael rolled his eyes, sitting up against the headboard because he knew you were right.
“this first…” you hummed, moving over to straddle his lap. wrapping your arms around his neck, you cupped his jaw and initiated another sweet make out session.
as you kissed, sloppily and heavenly, you rocked over his clothed bulge, hardening the more you moved and the more you whined into his mouth.
then after some time had passed, while michael could’ve kissed you forever he also craved something that excited him much more. he squeezed your waist and broke the kiss, for the first time in his life.
“alright, honey, i think it’s been much more than ten minutes.”
you giggled, climbing off him to lay back against the sheets.
and while you got yourself comfortable, you watched in amusement as he began to busy himself with something. he took great care in how he maneuvered your stuffed animals to the floor, putting them down one by one.
“this isn’t appropriate for the teddy bears and the little kitties to see.”
you laughed, then squealed as he pulled your legs up, settling himself between your legs. slowly he pulled down your tiny shorts and threw them somewhere.
then, wordlessly he hooked his arms around your thighs, pressed a kiss to your centre through your panties, and wasted no time in tugging them down, although the way he did so was, as always, reverent and gentle.
upon witnessing the sight of your soaked folds, michael immediately licked one warm stripe up your slit, and you hissed, toes curling even at the first touch. then he spread your puffy folds with two fingers, and pressed a soft kiss to your waiting clit.
“i missed her,” he murmured against your bundle of nerves, and you ruffled his hair in turn, giggling.
“baby, it’s been like, four days since you last went down on me.”
his pretty brown eyes looked up into yours. “that’s a long time, angel.”
amused, you shook your head, and then he dove in properly, and your eyes clamped shut instinctively. “oh f—”
the vibration of his own moans and hums into your pussy only intensified the pleasure, and you tugged at his dark curls with no restraint.
“oh honey, y’taste incredible… like always…”
“mmghhh, just like that, baby—”
“just like this, huh, mama?” he sped up the movement of his tongue, lapping at you eagerly, up and down so that his face was rapidly becoming decorated with your juices.
“michael—”
“i love you so much…” he muttered against you, now rubbing his nose over your clit.
you almost yelled—he knew how much you loved that feeling—and your head fell back further onto the pillows, legs somehow falling even wider apart as you whined. “baby, fuck—feels so good, keep doing that—”
“could taste you forever, sweet girl…”
there was nobody who utilised pet names more than michael, and not one uttered from his lips has any falsity to it. he spoke each word with deliberate care, and the work of his mouth mirrored that same intention.
the situation in your nether region was pure filth. you were completely soaked now, sweet juices smearing all over your boyfriend’s gratified face, and dripping slick onto the sheets below.
at one point, you tugged at his curls a little too hard and he groaned into you. you opened your mouth to apologise, but only louder moans poured out.
“y’did that on purpose, baby?” michael smirked against your clit, before latching on to suck and in turn sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head again.
“no, i promise,” you chuckled through a high-pitched gasp. truly, you were tugging only absentmindedly, and the pleasure from the vibration of his sounds was a bonus.
michael laughed, then continued to ravish you, jaw working at an insane speed to pleasure each fraction of your pussy with immense dedication. too lost in the pleasure, your eyes were clamped shut, and when he brought up two fingers and pushed them in—still never letting up the work of his tongue—it was such a sudden intrusion that you were seeing stars.
michael’s fingers were so long, and so with one swift thrust inside, they without fail hit your spot instantly.
“aw, that’s it, mama… y’feel me right where y’need me most, yeah? tell me, pretty baby… need to make sure i’m pleasin’ y’ right…”
as his tongue continued to lap at you, in tandem with the quick while specific thrusts of his digits hitting your g-spot, he took even more pleasure in listening to you struggle to form a coherent response.
“michael—baby, i’m gonna cum, i’m so close—you’re perfect, fuck—”
“nonono,” he muttered just above your weeping entrance (stuffed full by those beautiful fingers) licking up the messy slick that didn’t cease to emerge. every last drop, he savoured.
but now, he took those two fingers out and began to gradually phase out the pace of his tongue—although that took quite a few moments to get him to actually stop, because of course the boy was equal parts munch and head over heels for his girl, so he found it very difficult to actually detach his mouth from your sex, no matter how hard he tried.
finally however, he pulled away. he looked up at you and wiped the space around his mouth with the back of his hand, and the sight of that casual action paired with his soft brown eyes had you feeling dizzy even though the treatment of pleasure had halted.
you were pouting at him in confusion, and he chuckled—another sound and sight that sent shivers through your spine. instinctively, you bucked your hips up a little and arched your back, grinding on the sheets without a thought.
“don’t edge me like that, mikey,” you frowned.
“’m not done, sweetheart,” michael smiled, before beginning to quickly shed his clothes. “wanna be inside you when i get you there—y’know that.”
“i do,” you grinned. “my gentleman.”
“how does that make me a gentleman?” he raised a brow, stepping out of his boxers.
you bit your lip insanely hard at what beheld—michael’s huge, thick cock leaking milky beads of precum.
but more accurately, your lip bite was a product of the feeling produced from that sight. your core ached, and again you unconsciously writhed your hips, needing to feel him so fucking bad.
then you realised you hadn’t answered his question. your boyfriend was fully naked now, and understandably that was a big distraction.
you shook your head to collect yourself. “sorry, what did you say, baby?”
“i said,” he began, while moving to settle himself over you, stroking his painfully hard cock in one hand with a wince. his other hand stroked your soft thigh. “how does wantin’ to be inside you when you cum make me a gentleman?”
“because…” you tugged his curls again but this time to pull him down for a slow kiss.
then you spoke so sincerely, surprising yourself at how the words managed to flow despite how you were insatiably horny.
“you’ve always seen sex as a sacred act. it’s so intimate and beautiful with you and i’ve never had that with anybody before. you make love, baby. so caring and passionate and… fuck, y’know, let’s stop talking—just get inside me.” you chuckled.
“honey…” he smiled wide, a beautiful expression lighting up his still-fatigued features. “i’m glad y’feel that way. always wanna make y’feel good and safe.”
“you always do, michael. without fail.”
you both looked deeply into each other’s eyes, getting lost in the so familiar orbs, and suddenly michael reached down to rub slow, perfect circles over your clit. you gasped, and immediately he interlocked his fingers with yours. he continued to pleasure your nerves as he talked.
“sex with you could never be anything less than sacred. my baby…” he started to pepper kisses over your face while you blushed and squirmed beneath him. “my beautiful girl… y’want it like this, mama?” he asked, gesturing to the position you were both in, and since you’d just spoken of intimacy, he assumed missionary was what you wanted.
he removed his thumb and now gently smacked the head of his cock over your clit, before gliding his length up and down, soaking it in a mixture of your wetness and his precum.
“mhm. need your body on mine…”
“of course, sweetheart. arms up f’me.”
you did as he asked, and gently he pulled your sweater up over your head, before silently unclasping your bra with ease. you let it fall from your shoulders.
“there, that’s better…” michael started to mouth over the most sensitive parts of your neck, making you writhe and sigh with ease. “a lot better. so fuckin’ pretty…”
now he brought his kisses down to your breasts, murmuring praise against the skin, breathing in the scent that he deemed magical.
and finally, his lips latched onto one of your nipples, with a suckle somehow both tender and rough.
“michael—need you, baby…” you whined, squeezing his hand.
“i’m right here, angel,” he muttered over your areola, kissing and licking around the nipple now.
“inside, mikey, please… need it so fucking bad.”
he pulled back and looked up for a moment, before turning to switch his affections to the other nipple. one of michael’s quirks was that he always had to balance everything out.
“no,” you countered, pushing his head back in protest. “baby, quit teasing. seriously, i’m so—”
“i know,” he chuckled, with another smack of his tip over your clit. you shuddered at the feeling.
“alright, shh. you want me like this, yeah?” michael whispered, as he leaned forward so that you both laid skin to skin, chests essentially pressed against each other.
your nipples brushed against his warm, smooth skin, and you hummed in the most thorough content.
then he leaned his forehead down to meet yours, and kissed you oh so softly, you thought you could melt in his arms.
“i love you,” you whispered against his lips—equally as gentle as everything else about him—then wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, hugging his shoulders.
“i’ll love you forever,” michael replied. “i’m so grateful for y’, honey…”
“my prince,” you grinned, cupping his cheek.
he smiled so wide, and the butterflies in your stomach were ever-prominent. with michael, they had never left since that first day.
now he kissed your cheek over and over, resting his head against yours comfortably, as he reached a hand down to slowly guide himself into your entrance.
your body seized instantly, always struggling to take him at the initial stretch, but he cooed at you through the light pain. “i know… you’ll be alright in just a moment, okay? y’take me so well, my baby girl…”
“mi—fuck—mmghhh,” you moaned and gasped as he pushed further inside. michael was only ever satisfied if he knew he was taking things at the most careful pace for you. he always searched for signs of real distress on your face, but today it was clear that you were definitely prepared, given the state of your soaking pussy.
and when he bottomed out, you sighed in sheer happiness, giggling at how beautifully full you felt. you brought a hand up to his curls, and he squeezed your other.
“what’s so funny?” he asked with a smirk.
“nothing, i’m just happy,” you smiled even brighter than before.
“’m so glad, angel,” michael whispered. “now ‘m gonna make love to you exactly how you deserve, yeah?”
you nodded and kissed his shoulder above you, but then you had a different idea.
“no, mikey, wait,” you looked up at him with sincerity, running your thumb over his knuckles. “it doesn’t always have to only be about me.”
he raised his brows in confusion, so you continued.
“i mean… sex is between the two of us—it isn’t just about my pleasure. i swear, you deserve everything that’s beautiful in this world, baby. let me show you how much i love you.”
you were beyond grateful for how michael always put your sexual needs first—every woman deserved a partner like that—but in all areas of life michael always looked down on himself, never believed he was worthy of true adoration and in turn would always shy away from anyone showing how much they appreciated him. particularly as of late, he hadn’t been taking care of himself in several ways—his food restriction being one of them, alongside his hyper-critical attitude toward his craft.
michael bit his lip and scrunched up his face in embarrassment. he loved to be intimate with you if he was the giver of such intimacy, but to be the receiver had him feeling incredibly shy, because he always believed himself unworthy.
“michael…” you smiled with an eye roll and a nudge to his bicep. “let me love on you, baby.”
now he squinted with a shy smile. “i’m the one makin’ love to you, sweetheart.”
you rolled your eyes again. “just let me show you what i mean.”
you had been stuffed full of michael’s cock for two minutes now, and you gasped at the feeling when he twitched inside your walls.
“move now, honey, please…” you sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair and digging your heels into his lower back where your legs were wrapped around him.
michael nodded with a sincere expression, and you felt that lingering butterfly sensation again, strengthened when he now thrusted for the first time.
you moaned in the utmost satisfaction as he again hit your sweet spot with ease. “oh baby…”
and before he could say something, before he could swallow your words in hot kisses, you started to worship him with both words and touch, endeavouring to make him feel so loved, despite his usual protests. he spent all his days doing that for you, so why couldn’t you replicate the same for him? you just had to get past his dismissive attitude when it came to things like this.
despite how in terms of position he was the one with the dominance, being above you and in control of the pace and depth, that didn’t affect the way you planned to take care of him that afternoon. while he took care of your pleasure, you did so with his nervous system, and his very soul. he had been so detached from self-love his entire life, and there was nothing you cherished more than possession of the ability to be the one girl who could make him understand his worth, even if that understanding only ever lasted for short moments.
you knew that michael would probably never treat himself right, that he would always believe himself to be unattractive and unworthy of everything you gave him and of what his fans gave him, but that depressing inevitability never deterred you from trying your best with him. you always tried your best to influence even the slightest self-love on his behalf, and even while it was a struggle, the result of seeing the shy brightness in his eyes and the flushed expression on his beautiful face always brought you so much relief.
“michael, baby,” you said through moans as he hit your spot with every devoted thrust, “promise you’ll listen to every word i’m about to say…”
“what d’y’ wanna say, sweet thing?” he whispered in your ear, before pressing two slow, wet kisses beneath it.
you pulled him down for a passionate kiss of your lips, the wet squelches of each smack filling the room with the sound of sex. then you moved your lips to his neck, sucking all over his most sensitive erogenous zone.
“gonna tell you how beautiful you are…” you murmured, leaving a deliberate hickey. michael continued to fuck you so perfectly, rhythm slow and deep. “how much i love you…”
he let out the most ethereal moan at the feeling of your sensuous treatment, and began playing with your fingers as he thrusted, for that was always what kept him grounded the most—especially when he felt shy. like right now, he was diffidently anticipating the words you’d choose next, in a moment that couldn’t be more intimate.
“c’mere, dollface.” he pulled back so you were made to detach your lips from his neck, and kissed your forehead, then your nose, with the sweetest smirk on his face, although you could see that telltale shyness seeping through the mask that tried to hide it.
“shh,” you whispered, heart so full and body so complete with a shuddering arousal that you felt this might be the most treasured moment in your life so far.
you noticed his hand had moved to cup your cheek, while the other was enveloped in your own hand, and you adored the way his thumb would rub circles that were half-absentminded, half with purpose.
although, it didn’t take long before he pulled back, and that hand reached down to the area that needed him most. there he circled your throbbing clit, rubbing in tight repetition. this was what he would’ve done anyway, but now you noticed he’d definitely taken the opportunity to do so as a sly method of making you so distracted that you’d stop with the intimate talk.
but if that was the case, you didn’t fall for it.
“no,” you protested, tugging him back down so your bodies were attached again. now you held the back of his neck, gripping your man so securely so that he was as close to your face as possible—but when he went in to kiss you, you squeezed his cheek and giggled.
he thrusted a little quicker all of a sudden, so the giggle was quickly cut short by a high moan from your throat, but still you remained focused. you’d been gasping and whining since he entered you, but you wouldn’t let him get away with assuming that you wouldn’t be able to talk coherently in the midst of all that. sure, he’d usually be correct, but this time you were so dedicated to talk him through it, rather than the other way round as it always had been.
still holding his hand and the nape of his neck, you noticed that even while you were pressed so close—in the most intimate form of missionary imaginable—he wasn’t looking into your eyes. he looked down at your breasts, then to the side, to your lips, but not directly into your eyes.
“my baby, listen to me, you’re so pretty…” you murmured against his lips, and he shook his head, trying to swallow your words with another kiss.
“nuh-uh,” you smiled, but admittedly bit your lip at the pleasure, and almost forgot what you were meaning to say. “angelface.” you held his chin and kissed him once, softly.
that nickname always got him so incredibly flushed, and the feeling was a million times more pronounced whenever you used it during lovemaking.
“baby…” he scrunched up his face, delving into your neck now to try to kiss you there, since you’d denied his access to your lips. but of course you refused and gently pushed his head back up again.
“michael, i’m not gonna stop ‘til you listen—oh god…”
“i get it honey, y’think i’m pretty,” he sighed, snapping his hips harder now as if a sort of physical way of changing the subject. his low grunts were somehow as soft as those of angels in your ear, and he thought the same of the sounds spilling from you too.
“it’s more than that, mich—fuck, right there…”
“right there, yeah?” he cocked his tongue to the inside of his cheek, pounding you at that same ideal rhythm.
“mhm, now—shit, oh—you’re the most beautiful man on this earth, baby… body and soul—stop talking down on yourself…”
those words you managed to declare coherently, despite the ever-building immense pleasure from his cock abusing your gummy walls with each snap of his hips.
michael still wouldn’t answer, smiling only slightly, and you playfully nudged his bicep.
“ugh, come here, i don’t care how much you try to fight it.” you dragged him into a tongue-filled kiss, running your nails up and down his back now. “you’re an angel, honey,” you sighed against his throat as you resumed your neck kisses. “my handsome angel…”
you loved to bury your head in his neck, not only for the intimacy, but because you adored his scent. it was intoxicating—a rich blend of dark florals with vanilla and masculine spice.
michael’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. the feeling of your words against his skin, with the content of them, and with how your tight, wet pussy gripped his cock so perfectly, had him wondering how you were even a real human being, let alone one he could call his own.
“you mean so much to me—mmhh—and to so many people,” you continued, kissing all over his jaw to his cheek, then over his eyelids, caressing his face with your smooth hand.
“pretty dove, i love y’ so much,” he moaned back, shutting his eyes at the beautiful sensations he was so blessed to indulge in.
“i’m with you forever, my baby…” still you sucked, nipped and kissed at his skin, and you could really feel your orgasm looming now. “you’re my fucking soulmate, baby—please—oh, baby—please look after yourself…”
you couldn’t tell his reaction to that line, because his face was already in a squint due to the force of his thrusts and due to how you made him feel, but you did notice the emotion in his eyes shift slightly.
“for me,” you whispered, pausing your affections to cup his cheek again and make direct eye contact with him.
finally, he looked at you properly. michael loved eye contact during sex—really it was usually you that ended up shy—but tonight was different, because you’d flipped the switch.
“even if you won’t do it for yourself. do it for me, please.” you suddenly felt teary-eyed—how ridiculous, you thought, to almost cry during sex, but this was probably the most passionate the two of you had ever made love, and that was a big statement to make considering passion was michael’s main endeavour.
the difference was that you had never before spoken those words to him during sex.
“c’mere, sweet girl,” he moaned, now cradling the back of your head. “i love you. i’m listenin’, i promise…”
“don’t just say that to please me, michael,” you sighed through more whines as you grew closer and closer to climax, but still never taking your mind off the topic at hand.
“i think ’m pleasin’ you enough here, angel,” he teased, and you softly nudged his arm again, but a smile escaped your lips.
“shut up,” you laughed. “stop for a sec.”
michael furrowed his brows, pausing as obligated. “everythin’ alright?”
“yes,” you kissed him deeply, “you’re making me breathless and i needed to tell you we’re one hundred percent continuing this conversation after this.”
“all i heard was ’m makin y’ breathless,” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes again.
“michael.”
he only chuckled with a shake of his head, and resumed his thrusts, now hard as ever. “i know, honey, we’ll talk,” he murmured through grunts, before crashing his lips onto yours again, still cradling your head protectively.
you whined out, gripping at his shoulder with one hand, noticing he still hadn’t let go of your other.
“oh, michael,” you nearly screamed, as his cockhead slammed into your sweet spot aggressively now. this was how you guys liked to make love—slow and soft initially, before building up to more aggressive thrusts as you each came closer to climax.
“this alright, mama?” he whispered, and your toes curled even more at the sound of his beautiful voice. “nice n’ deep, huh?”
“perfect, baby—mmhh, fuck,” you moaned as you writhed beneath him on the creaking bed. your breasts were squashed against his warm chest, heels of your feet still digging into his lower back. you were completely entwined, becoming one in the act michael cherished so much.
“you close, handsome?”
“yeah, real close—ohh—”
you started to suck and bite all over his neck again, murmuring sweet nothings into the crook as he pounded you into oblivion. you wondered how he had all this energy when he hadn’t been nourishing himself lately, but you couldn’t think too much about that now. you’d care for him in the inevitable exhaustion afterward.
“my pretty baby,” you whined into his ear, to make sure he definitely heard. “such a perfect angel… y’gonna cum for me, mikey?”
michael’s heart was racing like crazy. he was absolutely obsessed with you, enamoured of your existence, and he could never believe that this life with you was real.
as you’d assumed, nothing you ever said would make him change the outlook he had on himself. no matter how sincere your tone, he still thought he looked entirely unattractive, and he’d never for a second consider that his personality had anything resembling an angel.
and that was the only thing you could ever dislike about michael: the heart-wrenching understanding that he would never see himself the way you did.
“s’close, mama, where d’you want me to—?”
“inside, baby, please—i need your cum,” you almost groaned, needing to emphasise your point profusely. you pulled back from his neck to look into his warm brown eyes.
“but—” he tried to protest, but you shook your head and silenced him with a finger to his lips.
“i’ll take that new pill, y’know—mmhh—what’s it called? the one you can take after sex?”
michael only grinned, and set an impossibly fast pace that now sent the bed rocking with even more aggression. it was a good thing nobody was home, but the neighbours were certainly hearing your endeavours to break the bed.
each time he slid in and out of you, his cock was decorated with a milky ring of your slick, and if he wasn’t chest to chest with you, he would’ve been staring down intently at where the two of you merged. that was always one of michael’s most favourite sights.
“honey, y’sure y’ want me to cum inside?”
“yes, baby—maybe i need to start taking the pill because i—fuck—hate when you don’t… feels so good…”
“alright, let go f’me… at the same time, angel, i wanna feel it, right now…”
michael’s thrusts were becoming a little more erratic, struggling to contain his orgasm, but upon his request, your climax met his.
“oh, michael, baby—”
“i know, mama, i know…”
as usual, it was heavenly, an experience of the divine. toes curling so hard you thought you might cramp, back arching off the bed, eyes shut tight as your release flooded through you—this time made even more pleasurable by the feeling of michael’s hot seed decorating your womb. spurts of his liquid shot through you, and you tightened the lock of your ankles around his hips in an attempt to push his cum as deep as it could go.
michael’s eyes were shut, lip bitten between his teeth as he tried to calm down through the aftershocks, but once he’d semi-caught his breath, he pecked your nose and laughed.
“y’want your womb filled, angel?”
your mouth dropped open in an embarrassed shock—even though you had quite literally just begged for his cum and then physically attempted to lock in his seed deeper.
and michael was being playful with his words, but you knew how much he’d wanted kids of his own for a very long time now—the only reason he hadn’t brought up the possibility was because he was so busy with his career. and you hadn’t been a couple for all that long, but you very much enjoyed the prospect of him bringing that sort of language into the bedroom, while without the attachment of legitimate baby-making.
“i like the feeling…” you sighed, suddenly growing shy. you were filled to the brim with your man’s cum, as he looked into your eyes with a teasing smirk.
“y’want me to pull out now, or?”
“no,” you said quickly, and the desperation in your voice made him laugh again.
“okay,” he smiled, pressing one final kiss to your lips before settling his body comfortably to blanket yours—as it had already been doing, but now as though he was literally using your torso as a mattress.
his head rested between your cheek and your neck, while you ran your fingers through his soft hair. you wrapped the comforter protectively around his back.
“y’feelin’ okay?” he asked, words muffled against you.
“yes, baby, i’m perfect. how are you feeling?”
“amazin’. but tired,” he yawned. “real tired.”
“i know,” you whispered softly. “you’re so good to me honey, but don’t overexert yourself just to please me, okay?”
he made a soft sound of understanding, and snuggled further into you.
“we’ll talk later, sweet boy. get some sleep.”
and so michael drifted off into a slumber while resting inside you, humming and sighing against your neck in the comfort you provided for him. he struggled with sleep as well as food, and it brought a tear to your eye as you laid with him, to see him so safe in your arms. you were the only one who understood him, and the only one who could influence the slightest bit of self-compassion, even when he was at his lowest mentally.
he slept there for two hours inside you, which you knew wasn’t ideal for a woman not intending to get pregnant, but you found yourself unable to care. you had your beautiful sweetheart resting peacefully on top of you, and true peace had been so hard for him to achieve.
─── ❤︎ thank you for reading!! i’ve been super busy the last week so this took me a while, but i’m happy to finally post again!! :3
“I love the waterparks! I wish I could do that more often these days but I’m allergic to the sunlight. I really can’t go in the sun without an umbrella but then there are the times when you’re just like, it looks like so much fun and you just say ‘forget it’ I’m going. I have to do this!”
-Michael Jackson
People dancing, singing, swaying their hips to the music everywhere you looked. Bottles of tempting liquor and cigarette butts coated the floor more so than the confetti that had once rained from the ceiling.
Everyone was enjoying themselves — grinding back onto a stranger they wouldn’t remember in the morning, wincing as a shot burnt down their throat, or belting the lyrics to a well-known song. All cooped up in their own personal satisfaction in the thriving club.
Not Michael.
His attention was demanded by people all day everyday, especially since his new release album Thriller, he was the name on everyone’s lips. Constantly needed, constantly wanted — commanded to speak or dance or put on a show.
But, right now the only show he cared about was the one you were putting on.
All of his attention failed to place on anyone surrounding him. Their faux, fame-hungry interest in his personal life went on deaf ears despite the booming music that sent shockwaves through his body — it was on you.
Watching from a private VIP booth, separated from the rest of the public club-goers, his eyes locked on the way your body moved with practiced precision with the music. Moving like every song took over your body, every beat co-ordinating your hips like a puppet-master — hands gliding over your frame in slow, subtly teasing movements that had his bottom lip suckled between his teeth.
You were ethereal — motions so practiced he was certain you were crafted straight from a musician and a dancer, a talent handed to you from birth. Alas, not — your tactical dancing crafted from pure adoration for music.
Lucky your boyfriend was a singer then, huh?
You’d been dating Michael for a few months and not once had he seen you so enchanting. Sure, when he played you his demo’s you’d groove, not caring who saw — something that always made him smile. You had a definite talent for dance rooted deep in your bones that Michael admired — often playing his songs for you just to see you move.
But, this. This was different.
The way you were moving, like fresh waves gliding against the soft of the sand, like light enveloping over the shadows of skin, cascading over sun-kissed flesh in bright colours — it had him stuck. Stuck watching through the dark of his aviators, head lolled to the side ever so slightly, as if bending his vision to deepen his entranced glare.
He loved letting you do your thing when you went out — you were his girl, loud and proud, but you were also your own individual. Someone who could have fun without being told no — he loved that about you. How you weren’t intimidated by a man, especially someone of his popularity, and allowed yourself to still be you and have your fun despite who you affiliated with.
“Y’girl’s got moves, brother.” Even the sound of Quincy Jones’ voice, his beloved producer to his biggest album to date, couldn’t pull him from his transfixion.
Michael hummed in response, index finger laid gently on his bottom lip, thumb resting on the underside of his chin, eyes never leaving your frame as your hands raked through the length of your hair, brushing it from your shoulders to reveal the bare of your back, on show promiscuously by your open-backed top.
It didn’t help that the leather shorts that clad your plump behind left little to the imagination — the curve of your ass barely visible to a passerby, but the full focus of Michael’s vision. That specific attribute that adorned your perfect body Michael loved so much — one he’d grip every chance he got, needing the plush skin in his large palms as you rode his cock, revelling in the recoil that every thrust he bucked up into your sopping cunt gave to your roundness.
And that plumpness that he adored so much was poked out behind you, one hand on your knee, the other in the air, fingers curling around the tune that blessed your ears, hips swivelling from side to side methodically.
“You got real lucky, Mike.” Quincy added, a laugh breathed out of him as they both watched you.
“Sure did.” Michael finally spoke, voice low and soft, like he always did, despite the sensual activity he was indulging in by watching you dance so fluidly.
“Who taught her to dance like that? Dangerous thing.”
Michael smiled, “She jus’ a natural.” Suddenly feeling smug at the fact that he had you all to himself — the sensual dancer, Michael Jackson’s girl, he was a cocky little bastard right now.
“Well, shit.” Quincy breathed, “Can see why you wrote all those lovey-dovey songs now, boy.” Quincy’s loud laugh hit Michael’s ears, not once moving to react, “Next album’s gonna go crazy if she keeps that up. Better get ya in the studio quick before someone snatches her up.”
Michael stayed silent — the thought of anyone threatening to take you away from him had him tensing up. A thought that forced his jaw into a tight clench.
You only stopped your sensuality at the sound of a whistle — head turning behind you to see Quincy Jones beckoning you over, four fingers curling in the air. You huffed, body warm, before making your way over to the booth situated at the back of the room — smiling at the security who guarded the entrance. They already knew exactly who you were.
“Tell your man to answer me.” Quincy teased, smiling next to your man in question, “Y’got him mute with those moves, girl.”
You laughed, wiping a bead of sweat that trickled down your temple, “Feelin’ quiet tonight, baby?”
Michael, attempting to suppress it but failing miserably at the sight of you up close and the sound of your pretty voice, let the corner of his mouth twitch up into a smirk.
“Maybe.” His voice slow, “Just enjoyin’ what I’m watching.”
“And what’s that?”
“You.”
The sexual tension that arose sent a shockwave of silence within everyone in the small booth — side glances exchanged as they ogled at the way you eyed one another with desire unable to miss.
“Alright, fella’s, let’s leave the lovebirds be.” Quincy chuckled, sending a wink Michael’s way, before ushering everyone out of the booth.
And then there were two.
Just you, hot and teetering on spent, the dancing tiring your glistening body, and Michael, a pompous smirk on his face, large arm now resting on the ledge of the booth behind him.
“Enjoy the show, honey?” You were teasing, and Michael knew it. He could sense it in the way you spoke, your voice low and dark, tempting him, with a manicured hand on your hip.
“Close the curtain, please.” He called, voice loud enough for the security to hear. Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle insinuation of what was yet to come — swallowing thickly at the sound of the large curtains shutting you into the room.
At first, nobody moved. Just staring — his sunglasses clad eyes fixated on your own. Watching. Fixating. Tempting.
“C’mere, pretty.” The sound of his ring-clad fingers tapping against the meat of his thigh hit your ears, beckoning you to his lap.
You obeyed — heels clicking against the floor as you strutted over to him, placing yourself neatly in the comfort of his lap. Michael loved you like this — sitting all pretty on him, your ass pressed perfectly onto his crotch. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, letting your legs dangle off the edge of his leg.
“Liked what’cha saw then, baby?” Your voice sickly sweet as you grinned up at him, eyes full of desperation for praise — your smile a subtle tease.
“Yeah, angel, sure did.” He spoke, a palm grazing over the soft of your thigh, the other pressed against the small of your back, “Looked so pretty out there dancin’.”
Your cheeks flushed red at the compliment, leaning over to press a loving kiss to his cheek, nose nudging his famous aviators. A soft gasp left your plump lips as his hand trailed further up your leg, dangerously close to where you throbbed due to his enticing touches.
“How ‘bout you show me what else you can look pretty doin’?”
Your heart hammered in your chest at the insinuation as his fingers grazed over your clothed cunt through your shorts — a needy whine ripping from your throat at the teasing sensation. Eager to please, you nodded quickly — gnawing on your lip as you awaited his command.
“Get on y’knees f’me, doll.”
You complied willingly without protest — falling to your knees between his spreading legs. The cold of the floor sent a chilling sensation throughout your burning body — still unable to cool the inflamed desire that thumped inside you.
Michael’s hand reached down to cup your flushed cheek — his vast hand covering majority of your face, thumb stroking the supple skin. His fingers trailed down your face, reaching your pouting lips, tugging your bottom one down with the pad of his thumb — before retracting his hand all together and leaning back comfortably in the chair.
“Get to work then, sweetheart,” He commanded, “Show me just how pretty y’can get.”
With a hum of appreciation at the endearing pet-name, your trembling hands flew to his trousers — the clink of his belt hitting the floor forced your thighs together in anticipation. Michael, cooperatively, lifted his hips just enough for you to shuffle his tight slacks and boxers, a painful restraint, down his legs, pooling at his ankles.
His cock, a pretty mauve colour, slapped against his clothed abdomen, a quiet hiss leaving his throat as the rush of air hit the warmth of him. Your eager hands wasted no time — spitting a lewd glob into your palm and enclosing around the shaft, revelling in the way Michael hummed in contentment.
Your nimble hands, looking awfully small in comparison to his thickness, worked him up and down — pumping him slowly, tightening your grip each time you’d slide to his cockend. Only when your thumb swiped the bead of pre-cum that oozed from his tip did Michael groan, peering over his sunglasses at you.
“Quit teasin’, doll.” His hand slid around your face, encasing the nape of your neck in his grasp, forcing your face closer to his twitching cock, “Open up, sweetheart.”
As your lips parted, Michael pushed the fat of tip between them — groaning lowly as you suckled around it, instantly swirling your tongue around the leaking end. The taste of his bitter, yet equally tasty, pre had you whining around him — the rumble sending shivers down his spine at the sensation. The feeling so great that it involuntarily forced his hips to buck — dick slotted down your throat so fast a gag ripped from you.
Still the gentlemen, Michael went to drag you from his length, prioritising your comfort — but, you stopped him. Hands gripping the fat of his thighs to signal him to leave you be, hands falling at his sides as he fell deeper into your mercy — a louder moan falling past his lips as you bobbed your head up and down him.
Michael knew he was blessed when you deliberately gagged around him — burying your nose into the dark curls of his pubic hair, basking in the way his head thumped against the back of the booth, hand cupping your cheek, holding you in place as he throbbed in your throat.
When you’d pull off, saliva connecting your plush lips to his drooling cock, coughing and spluttering as you caught your breath, did it really hit Michael how insanely pretty you really were.
He’d always known it, but watching you encase your lips around his tip, suckling it like a delicious lollipop, spit glistening on your chin, doe-eyes peering up at him as tears streamed down your beautiful face — he was certain he’d fallen in love all over again.
“That’s it,” He coaxed, hands following your fluid movements as he held your face, swallowing thickly as you slowly took more and more of him down your greedy throat, “Suckin’ my dick so pretty, dollface.”
And when you wrapped your delicate hand around the base of him, accompanied by hollowing your cheeks around the girth of him, did he really loose it. Hips bucking up without a care in the world, completely at your mercy as you worked your magic around him — curses and praises mumbled above you.
“Shit, angel, gonna cum.” He warned, “Wanna paint that pretty face white.”
He tugged you off him quickly, a frantic hand encasing around his manhood, pumping himself quickly, chasing the high as he sucked his lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed tightly together — focused on the way you slid your tongue out, lapping at the tip, awaiting his sweet release.
“Shut ya’ eyes baby.”
And when your eyes fluttered shut, you hummed in delight at the first spurt of his release landed straight on your twitching tongue, the tang of his cum settling on the muscle. Michael cursed loudly, eyes fixated, like they had been all night, on your gorgeous face as he pumped himself languidly — utterly aroused at the way his cum splattered over your cheeks, chin, and tongue, even so far as reaching above your eyebrow. Completely coating you in his milky white seed — now slowly dripping down your face as your eyes fluttered open.
Michael peered down at you, soaked with his release, large eyes peering up at him through your eyes like he hung the stars for you, a loving smile spreading across your face as you swallowed the remains of his seed that landed on your tongue.
“Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He praised, shaking his head in disbelief at how he managed to pull a girl so captivating.
His fingers reached forwards, swiping up the stray dollop of cum that adorned your eyebrow, collecting the essence on digits, before presenting them before your spit-stained lips, “Don’t wanna miss any, right, doll?”
You shook your head as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, hands encasing around his wrist as you hummed at the taste of him — tongue swirling around his digits, sucking them clean. Michael repeated this with each area of your face that was coated with his cum — swiping each place and shoving his fingers into your eager mouth, letting you savour the taste of him.
Michael sat back, softening cock hanging free, as he watched you — smirking at the way you licked your lips, openly enjoying the flavours of him.
It was only when a strangled cry left his mouth, hips twitching violently as you wrapped your slutty mouth around the drooling head of his cock once more — lapping up the dribble of cum that rolled down him, did he realise you were fucking ravenous for his cock.
Michael pulled you off with a pop, chest heaving at the sudden overstimulation, face scrunching in surprise.
❛ bad era!michael jackson 𝑥 model!reader ❜ ᛝྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི 18+
𐔌 ݁ 𓂃 ⓘ content ﹕ preparing for your first big runway show as a victoria's secret angel with your supportive boyfriend in the crowd but afterwards, he can’t keep his hands to himself. this is based in the late 80's but were gonna pretend vs shows were a thing then. not proofread,,
your stomach twisted itself into impossible knots. for the fifth time in 10 minutes, you rechecked your makeup in the vanity mirror in nothing but a lacey pink lingerie set by victoria’s secret and a pair of white angel wings. that’s right, you were walking as a victoria’s secret angel, a job you had been wishing for for a while now. but at this moment, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest.
that was until a familiar figure showed up behind you. to your surprise, it was michael with a big bouquet of roses. earlier when you had showed up for rehearsals, there was a bouquet of tulips already set on your designated makeup vanity. this man just loved to spoil his girl, especially before a big event.
“aww mikey,” you tuned around to face him, taking the bouquet as he engulfed you in a tight hug, “thank you, my love.” you cooed.
he gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, “of course, doll.” he admired your little outfit, your perfect blowout and the way you makeup glittered in the lights.
“i’m so nervous..” you admitted, smoothing invisible wrinkles from the satin ribbon wrapped around your wrist. this was one of your first official runway walks, your first being for a smaller fashion show event.
“don’t be, darling,” he held your shoulders, massaging them gently and watched your reflection, “you’re such a natural.” he affirmed you. his support really did help you wonders in times like these. his soft voice and comforting presence was enough to clear the fog and anxiety that flooded your mind.
michaels fingers lingered past your shoulder to tighten your angel wings a bit as you calmed your nerves. he turned your chair around to face him, taking your hands in his.
“in..” he inhaled through his nose, guiding you to do the same, “and out.” exhaling through his mouth. he led you through more breathing exercises, something he also does before a big show—taking your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses on them. before you knew it, that tight feeling in your chest had suddenly disappeared.
“let’s go girls! you’re on in 5!” the show caller announced through the thick backstage chaos. michael gave you one last kiss on the forehead and a “good luck!” before scurrying back to his reserved seat—front row of course, but the press waited for him outside of the dressing room. he guarded his vision as he pushed past, him clearly there for one and only reason.
he sat impatiently in his seat, waiting to see your look as a few girls had done their walks first while you were lined up and ready for your cue to walk.
“angel number 5! you’re on, let’s move!” the show caller yelled once again. you prepared for your walk as they signaled ‘3…2…1!’ and giving you a point.
you dropped all thoughts from your head and marched out on the runway. flaunting your curves and long legs that were very complimented by the sparkly pink pumps on your feet, michael couldn’t take his eyes off of you the moment you walked out. following you the whole time you walk to the end of the platform, giving him a little wave before walking back—paparazzi cameras flashing endlessly.
you displayed a few other lingerie looks, one being a black lace set, another being a white frilly babydoll set, all had michael locked in on you. he couldn’t help but imagine you in those outfits when it’s just the two of you, carefully ripping the pieces of clothing off of you.
by the end, all of the angels had went out to the main stage to bow, thank the crowd for their support and finish up the show. quickly, michael disappeared backstage once again, swooping you up once he’s seen you.
you yelped in surprise, not expecting to be swept off your feet by a large pair of arms, “michael! you scared me!” you scolded him as he took the two of you into your dressing room.
“'m sorry sweetheart.” he said trying to hold back the laughter that consumed him. he loved playing tricks on you and most of all, scaring you, but you never did mind his antics. they truly never bothered you that bad. “you looked incredible out there.” he continued with his arms still wrapped around your bare waist. he had grabbed you up too quickly before you could slip on your robe.
“thank you, my love.” you smiled and placed a soft peck on his lips. you loved the way he just automatically knew to pucker his lips when you went in for a kiss—it was something truly endearing to you.
you emerged from his grip to grab the pink and white striped robe that hung from the back of the door, michael relentlessly whining the moment you went away from him. after, putting it on and tying the robe, michael hooked his fingers onto the robe and pulled you back in his embrace.
“michael..” you giggled, your palms falling flat on his chest while his arms found your waist once again.
“can’t get enough of my pretty baby.” he said in an almost whisper before capturing your lips with his. you kissed back slowly and sensually, a hand of yours reaching to the nape of his neck. your tongue breached his mouth, tasting his sweet saliva that tasted of fresh mint.
you pulled back momentarily, pushing against his chest because knowing michael, he’d pull you right back in if you didn’t create some distance. “mm i forgot- i got invited to the after party, did you wanna go?” you asked reluctantly, knowing deep down you really didn’t want to go. you’d rather get home to your teacup shitzu, which was the only dog michael wasn’t afraid of. quoted from him, “they’re like mini stuffed animals.” which had you cackling.
the look of ‘ehhh no’ swallowed michael’s face and that’s when you knew. you knew the man so well that he didn’t even need to use words, you could tell all by the facial expressions.
“well then, let’s get a car and go home.” you instructed him, “chanel is probably waiting for mama.” your tone completely changing with a pout on display.
“and dada.” he added with a smile before picking up the phone to call a car. “uh-huh. the back entrance please. thank you.” you watched michael get serious and there was something about him just being so manly and taking initiative.
“so, ya gonna wear this pretty little outfit for me when we get home?” his eyes shifting back to you, your cleavage on display as the robe slipped open.
“maybe..” you teased when he reached over to pinch your side playfully, swatting his hand away.
let’s say the rest of the night did include you modeling the other test outfits from the show before eventually decorating the floor of your bedroom.
the concept of michael not only being your childhood best friend but your first love. your first everything, actually. you’ve seen this man through the good times and bad times over the years and would he let only you in to comfort him.
cw. 18+ mdni. plot twist ⎯ while she talks you through it. 𝑓!reader. obviously sucking on janet's tits. dommy mommy janet & subby reader. janet's refers to herself as momma & mommy. nicknames (baby , honey). teasing. praising. fingering (reader receiving). for my baby @cinnamoncunt
nothing but the sounds of muffled whimpers and gentle praise fills the four walls of the bedroom.
"that's it, baby," janet's voice is honeyed warm as a her hand comes to smooth down your face, the repetition of the action causes your eyes to flutter shut, "take what y'need, mama's got you." the reference of the name to herself has your thighs shifting beneath the silky sheets, an attempt to get any friction you can.
and it doesn't go unnoticed by her. narrowed eyes bounce between where your lips, plump and glossy from your own saliva as you suckle at her nipple to where the lower half of your body hides. evident that your greediness is once gain overtaking you, your hips rocking and knees protruding from the sheets from you're pushing your thighs together helplessly.
janet's free hand takes the hem of the sheets and yanks them back to where they flop back lifeless at the edge of the bed. revealing you rubbing thighs in all their glory, sleep shorts ridden far up that they're no longer visible to her eye-line.
"got a problem, huh," her tone tipping on the edge of condensation causes embarrassment to spread throughout you, stilling you legs now attention brought to your neediness, "unt uh, don't stop now."
pulling off of her breast with a pop, "it's not enough," you mumble, barely able to meet the older's eyes.
"it's what? can't here you, honey," the hand that was soothing down the side of face dips and takes hold of your chin, "gotta speak up f'me, y'know i don't understand mumbling," she expresses, the gentle disciplinary reminder alone has your toes curling.
upon releasing your chin from her grasp, it gives janet the time to appreciate the beauty. you're in her arms, in her bed, at her mercy as you're still staring up at her with hazy eyes, with your lips still swollen from her allowing you to toy with her breast at your interest, and a mess in between your thighs that's all hers.
"janet," you whine, dragging out her name. her gaze snaps back to you, quirking her eyebrow up, "need you," it's said less whinier and a little more softer, but you made sure that it's said clear.
this is her favorite game. "what d'you need, baby?" she knows the answer is clear as day, but she can never not play with you a little. getting you all worked up and frustrated until you decide the ache is far worse than the embarrassment of telling her what you need.
whines only ensue, "need you," squirming, antsy from janet's antics, "touch me, please," it came out far more desperate than a plea for your pleasure, and the squirming only causes the friction you need oh so bad.
"touch you where," she asks, voice seductive and teasing as her hand raises to swipe a finger across your swollen lips, "here? d'you need a kiss?"
when you shake your head the woman acts offended for a short second, "oh, okay well," hand traveling down before it rest just over your covered breast, the small sleep tank leaves nothing to the imagination as your nipples are already pebble beneath the tank, "touch you here?" she asks again, her pointer finger and thumb taking a hold of your clothed nipple to pinch and roll lightly.
pressing your face into janet's chest to stifle your small moans, you hand wrapping around janet's to push it away. both overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the pleasure not coming from where you need it most. "no," you croak out from against her chest.
the same hand that toyed with your nipple snakes down past your breast to your naval to hover just above your clothed mound. "you gon' tell mommy where you need her so she can help you?"
your chest heaves, a shaky hand comes down to cover janet's moving both further down to rest over your clothed cunt, bucking your hips when the heel of her palm press against the dampness. "here," you're helpless, mind completely gone other than the need to have janet's hands on you.
"wasn't that so easy?" she teases, knowing that telling her what you need from her still makes you flustered, "don' worry i'm gonna take care of you." her head dipping down to the crook of your next to place a string of kisses along your bare shoulder.
her hand slips past the band of your sleep shorts and is immediately met with the sticky mess between your thighs. "no panties?" teeth lightly grazing your shoulder before nipping at it, "so filthy," she purrs as her middle and ring finger draw steady circles against your clit.
"please," both a whisper and plea, the waves of pleasure quickly overtaking your senses.
"i know, jus' relax," she soothes, fingers traveling to your leaking hole, circling it just as she does to your clit a few times before sinking a digit into your heat, shushing you when your whimper turns into a desperate moan as your head lulls back.
and upon adding another finger the sounds that filled the bedroom only became more obscene between your moans and squelches from your pussy as janet's fingers pump in and out.
turning your head, eyes barely open from the ecstasy of janet's nimble fingers and the bump of her palm against your swollen bud when your cunt sucks her fingers back in. but instead of leaning against her chest, you latch back onto one of her breast again. leaving sloppy kisses right before taking her hard nipple in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the bud, drawing a few low hums from janet.
your hole contracts around janet's fingers, "almost close?" again, she asks a question she knows the question to, but it's confirmed when you give a small nod, still attached to her breast, letting your eyes flutter shut once again this night, "cum f'me when you're ready, honey," keeping her pace the same to get you to your peak.
and it doesn't take long until your body stills, mouth unlatching from janet's breath allowing it to fall open into a silent moan. hips bucking and eyes screwed shut when you're tipped over the edge of release, closing your thighs around janet's hand.
"there you go," she coos against the shell of your eat, removing her slick covered fingers from your ruined cunt, but keeping her palm pressed against your cunt as you fall down from your high, "did so good."
her free hand caresses the back of your neck, toying with your little baby hairs before squeezing to signal you to peel your eyes open. looking back into janet's brown eyes, you're met with nothing but warmth and love, a coy smile on your face just before she dips down and connects your lips in a tender kiss.
