one shot. smut. otw!michael x fem!reader. oral (fem receiving). porn w no plot. not proofread. squirting. overstim. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ michael just wants to unwind. masterlist.
concert after concert after concert. this entire month of july was exhausting for michael. his solo career blew up, and he was all around the country performing for people. and god, michael missed you.
that’s how you ended up spread open on the soft bed, the sheets under you sticky and drenched from the wetness that leaked out of you.
michael was gripping your thighs, his tongue moving in slow yet starved strokes along your glistening slit, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently.
you didn’t know how many times you came, and neither did michael. all he knew was he needed more.
“m-michael, s-s’too much—“ you whined, weakly trying to push his head away, your back arching as your thighs trembled.
michael kept his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, humming against you. “gimmie another one ma, please..” he whispered with a pleading look as he looked up into your eyes, his breath against your twitching clit, his two middle fingers rubbing gently at your opening. “i know you can take it.” he whispered slowly, his mouth wrapping around your clit again, his tongue swirling around it — making stars explode behind your eyelids.
his digits slid inside you easily, your slickness from your previous orgasms helping. “look at how much you’re leaking f’me angel..” michael whispered, curling his fingers to press against that spongy spit inside you, making you gasp loudly, tightening around him.
“m-michael, please—“ you pleaded, not really sure for what, your eyelids fluttering as your hips bucked against michael’s face, his tongue swirling around your clit as your gummy walls clamped around his long fingers.
“yeahhh, give it t’me baby..” michael whispered, sucking on your clit as his digits moved against your sweet spot over and over, your vision going white.
you gasped for air once again, loud cries leaving your lips, before squirting liquid all over michael’s chin and hand, making him groan against your sensitive cunt, his fingers still curling slowly.
“such a sweet girl, y’taste so good..” michael mumbled, drinking in your essence as he slowly slid his fingers out.
you barely had time to catch your breath before michael’s fingers rubbed slow circles on your puffy clit, making you whine loudly.
“m-mikey, f-fuck—!” you whimpered, your body melting into the mattress as your eyes rolled back, making him let out a shaky gasp.
“you’re so wet baby, drives me crazy..” he whispered with hooded eyelids, trying his best to hold back from lapping at your soaking cunt again, his fingers moving slowly against you.
“m-m’gonna cummmm..” you whined loudly, your back arching as you felt yourself get close again, the familiar tight knot in your lower belly threatening to snap.
“a-again? fuck, you’re so good t’me..” michael groaned, rubbing your clit slightly faster, making you gasp as your orgasm washed over you.
liquid gently slid out of you, your thighs trembling as michael kissed them, breathing heavily against your skin. “so pretty, my god.” michael whispered, his lips leaving your thigh before going to your stomach. he lifted his head before looking into your eyes, giving you a smile you knew hid something.
“y’wanna give me another one?”
a/n: hiiii mattbymills comeback …… I AM STILL WRITING THE JERMAJESTY FIC IM JUST LACKING IDEAS FOR THE PLOT
Trying not to think about the fact that michael VERY OBVIOUSLY had the best stroke game ever plus stamina oh my god someone kill me im a disgusting pervert
notes a short drabble of how his big hands and long fingers satisfy you ♡ for ref, his hand is 23-24cm (9-9.5in) long, with a span of 28 cm (11 inches). the avg is 19cm long!
when you're both making love, he wants you to know that you're undoubtedly his. he shows this by grabbing onto your throat as he drills his cock inside of you; the pressure his fingers put onto your neck make you feel so lightheaded. you pathetically attempt to hold onto michael's waist with your legs for support.
just putting one finger inside already sends you over the edge. michael is more than able to hit your cervix—it's that long and thick. when another finger enters into your folds, you can't help but start to cry. he doesn't admit it, but the sight of you trembling under his hands puts a hard tent on his pants.
michael was so shy to do this at first, but over time, he realized how much he loved slapping your ass. he enjoys how plump and hot it becomes, feeling the heat as he rubs the same spot to soothe the sting. your whimpers only make him want to do it harder, but he knows that he can't bring himself to. he loves you too much to risk actually hurting you.
he loves putting fingers down your throat to see you choke on it. the way your eyes water, your lips tighten, and your moans muffle through his digits is his favorite kind of foreplay. it gets him so hard that it makes him so, so impatient to replace his hand with his cock. “just a little more, baby," michael coos.
sometimes, when you both go out together, he'd wear his iconic rhinestone-studded glove. it gets you so wet to think that just the other night, his long fingers were gloved by your pussy instead. you've yet to ever tell him that, but you know he has his own dirty thoughts of you even outside of the bedroom.
synopsis: michael’s been too busy for you lately. lucky for him, he knows exactly how to make it up to his best girl. wc: 2.6k
warnings: sexually explicit content! smut with a little plot, fem reader, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, dom/manipulative michael, reader needs to stand up, fwb, pet names, build up to the smut, all the works! ♡
.✦ ݁˖ a/n: my first time writing since last year gulp… super inspired by @glossiercheek’s version of manipulative bsf! michael ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱ & this fic is based on a certain song:
“i like the way he uses his hands & his words, i could be his new favorite think piece, favorite girl. anything to tell me that i'm your number one 'cause i'll be your groupie, baby!” - magic i want u, jane remover
michael had always known exactly how to handle you. he knew when to pull you into his lap during movie nights, when to drape a blanket over your legs before you could complain about being cold, when to tilt your chin up and kiss you quiet before you could start asking too many questions.
so of course you felt a bit hurt when your time together became less and less. you understood that his solo career was taking off now, but hearing the excited screams from all those girls in his audience made your heart sink.
the worst part of all? you missed more than just him. you missed the warmth of his large hands cupping your neck and your waist. the way he’d hold your thighs apart on the mattress while he lapped at your cunt like he was starving. how he’d work you open by plunging his fingers into your wetness, whispering, “gotta make it fit, baby,” when you whined through your second orgasm.
the memories of your time together sent heat between your legs. you tried to ignore the ache, remembering that he told you, “better not let nobody touch what’s mine, okay? don’t want you touching her either. ‘s not like anyone can make you feel the way i do anyway.” and at the time you nodded, head empty at his voice. but now you wish he’d never given you such a rule.
you laid on the pink sheets of your bed, fingers sitting at the waistband of your sleeping shorts. your heart raced as you slipped your fingers past your shorts before softly rubbing your soaked heat through your panties. your back arched up softly, a whimper leaving your throat at the contact. fuck, should you really be doing this? if michael found out, he’d be mad that you disobeyed him. you don’t want him to leave you.
just then, the telephone on your nightstand rang. you snapped out of your haze before clearing your throat, “hello, this is—”
you were cut off by a familiar voice. “baby, i know who you are,” michael said. his voice sounded like heaven to your ears. “what’cha up to right now?” he asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. he had to be a fucking psychic.
your heart pounded as you thought of anything else to say but the truth. “uhm, just, reading a magazine. about— fashion… for this summer, yeah. getting some new ideas.” you managed, sounding less smooth than you anticipated.
“yeah?” there was a beat of silence before he continued, “i been missing you, babygirl.” you rolled your eyes, thankful he couldn’t see that. “well you’ve been pretty busy, haven’t you? becoming a real hotshot now.” you said, attitude evident in your voice. you heard him sigh before answering, “listen, ‘m not gonna let you get upset over this right now. come over tomorrow and i’ll make it right for you. how’s that sound?”
you held back your imagination before you got too turned on again. “…kay, mikey, sounds good. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“see ya then, baby. oh, and wear that dress i like, yeah?” he told asked you.
“okay.” click. you curled up in your soft sheets, trying not to think about the sheets you’ll be in the next day.
you knocked on the door of the jacksons’ residence the next day, looking like a damn prize on the door step. your hair was done nicely, framing your pretty face which was adorned in light makeup that emphasized your features. you wore the dress that michael likes, not because he told you to, but because you liked it. keep telling yourself that.
jackie opened the door with a surprised look on his face. “well damn,” he muttered. “mike, your girl’s here!” he called through the house.
your face heated up before stammering, “oh no, no! you know we’re just friends.”
jackie gave you a look that left no room for argument. “well come on in,” he said, stepping aside.
marlon walked in as he spotted you, calling your name, “y’look real nice.” you gave him a smile of thanks before he continued, “if things don’t work out with michael, you know where to find me,” he joked, shooting you a wink. you laughed, “i wouldn’t count on that, marlon.”
just then michael walked into the room, and you beamed as his eyes took you in. his gaze dragged over you slow enough to make heat climb up your neck, taking in the dress, your hair, the way you’d done yourself up exactly how he liked. the corner of his mouth curled into that smile you knew all too well.
“well look at you, baby,” he murmured, voice low and pleased. “prettiest thing in my house.”
you gave a bashful smile to hide the feeling of your stomach flipping.
jackie let out an obnoxious laugh from somewhere beside you. “see? told you that was his girl,” he told marlon with a nudge, who gave resounding agreement.
michael didn’t even look at them. he crossed the room with that easy stride and stopped right in front of you, close enough for you to catch the clean smell of his cologne. one hand came up to smooth over your waist, fingertips pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“c’mere,” he said softly. you felt like you were floating already. with a glance over your shoulder at his brothers, he added, “need a minute alone with my best girl.”
there was a chorus of teasing behind you, jackie laughing, marlon making some smart comment you were too flustered to hear, but michael was already guiding your flushed figure away, hand warm at the small of your back as he led you through the familiar house.
the moment michael’s bedroom door shut behind you, the silence between you two somehow grew heavier. you felt like you could hear your own heart beat.
the lock clicked into place before he gave you a soft nudge toward his bed, which you sat down on comfortably.
michael looked at you for a long moment, leaning back against the door like he had all the time in the world. “you been missin’ me that bad?” he asked, head tilted with that smile. “been givin’ me all that attitude over the phone just ‘cause i’ve been busy?”
you folded your arms, trying for something indignant and failing when his eyes dipped to your mouth. “..maybe I have.”
“mm.” he pushed off the door and stepped closer, slow enough to make you feel every inch of his steps. “i thought so.”
he reached out, hooking one finger under the strap of your dress before smoothing it back into place against your shoulder, a touch so light it almost made it worse. “wore this for me just like i asked,” he said quietly. “knew you would.”
“or maybe i wore it because i like it,” you shot back, though your voice came out thinner than you wanted.
michael smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel caught. “oh baby, you can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
you should’ve rolled your eyes. should’ve told him to stop being so full of himself. instead, you just stood there while his hands settled at your waist, warm and familiar, thumbs brushing little absentminded strokes into the fabric like he’d missed touching you more than he wanted to admit.
“c’mere angel,” he said again, softer this time. he drew you in until your chest brushed his, until you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. one of his hands slid up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face toward his.
“you really thought i’d forget about you?” he murmured. “after all that poutin’ over the phone?”
you hated how weak you felt under that look.
“you’ve barely had time for me.” you said flatly.
“i know.” his thumb stroked slowly over your cheek. “been busy, sweetheart. but that don’t mean i stopped thinkin’ about you.”
he lowered his head until his mouth hovered just beside yours, close enough that you could feel every word he spoke. “missed my girl.”
your breath caught. as if michael was reading your mind, he finally pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your whines of relief.
one kiss, then another, his free hand sliding down to your hip to pull you flush against him.
“lemme make it up to you,” he whispered, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “been too long since I had you all to myself.”
you let out a breathy laugh, “imagine how i feel,” before pulling him into another kiss. you reveled in the feeling of his tongue invading your mouth, hearing the sound of wet clicks between your mouths sent heat straight to your cunt.
michael groaned before he pulled back, leaving you breathless. “y’taste so sweet, babygirl. i need to feel you now.” he said, already bunching your dress up around your waist. your face burned with shame as he rubbed your wet slit through your panties. “damn, so wet for me already. you want it that bad, baby?” he asked, although he knew the answer. “ask me nicely.”
thankfully you weren’t totally out of it yet, you just needed him to fill your cunt that’s been empty and neglected for so long. you squirmed in his arms, trying to move your hips closer to his fingers. “please mikey, touch me, please.”
he just laughed cruelly before responding, “but i am touching you, angel.” he gave your thigh a squeeze. “gotta be more specific for me.”
you felt entirely pathetic as you whined out the words, “…please, michael— i want your fingers in me.”
“that’s my sweet girl,” he told you, before sliding your panties aside and plunging two fingers into your wetness, he knew you could take it. “wasn’t so hard was it?”
you let out a pretty moan as he finally started fucking you on his fingers. you’ve waited so, so long to feel like this again. “ffuck— yes, mike please,” you whined out, clutching his shirt. “missed you so much.”
he loved the mess you always became for him, loved the way your brows knit together as you fell apart so easily for him. “yeah, missed you too baby,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “missed feeling my angel squeezing my fingers so tight, fuck. can’t wait to fill you,” he said, using his digits to scissor you open perfectly.
his words only pushed you closer to the edge, clenching tightly around his fingers at the thought of him finally fucking you properly again. “want—gonna cum, mikey! ‘m so close ah-” you managed to tell him, voice cracking.
“i know baby, i knoww. give it to me, make a mess all over your mikey’s fingers,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched your orgasm crash over you. “yeah, that’s it sweet girl, look so pretty cumming for me like that.” he pumped into you a few more times before bringing his sticky fingers to his lips, sucking your juices as he made sure you watched. he pulled your face close to his by your neck to shove his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. the filth of it almost made you cum again.
“gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy now?” he asked, already spreading your thighs apart with heavy hands.
“yeah mike, ‘s yours,” you told him without noticing what you said. “pleasee, want you fillin’ me up.” you whined, hips reaching up toward him.
the sound of his zipper made you swallow your drool as he took his hard cock into his hand, stroking himself a few times before lining it up with your soaked heat. “don’t gotta beg baby, i’ll give it to ya,” he breathed before pushing into you fully at once with a low groan. “my sweet girl… squeezin’ me so tight,” he cooed at you, “‘m not going anywhere, baby.” he continued to move in and out of your pussy, lewd wet noises filling the room along with your moans.
“michael, feel so full.. so good,” you moaned, eyes brimming with tears at the sheer pleasure your body missed so much. michael thought you were the sexiest thing right now, face all flushed and fucked out, hair tussled around your face, straps of your dress falling down your shoulders— fuck.
“yeah? can feel me in your stomach, can’t you?” he chuckled. “you know, baby, i thought about you all the time.” he continued thrusting his cock in and out of your increasingly gushing cunt. “got so hard thinkin’ about you, my perfect girl,” he breathed, fucking into you harder.
his words made you clench on his dick, making him groan. you keened, “ah fuck, mikey thas’ so hot. i really wanted t’touch myself when you were gone, but remembered what you said,” you said between breaths.
michael nearly came at your words, cock throbbing inside you. “aw, y’really do whatever i tell you to, huh?” he’s always got you wrapped around his finger. right where he wants you. “always bein’ such a good girl for me, even when im not there.”
he noticed how your breathing quickened, how you gushed around him even more, he knew you were close. “gonna be good and cum for me again, baby?” he brought his fingers down to rub circles on your puffy clit, watching as you writhed beneath him.
“soo sensitive mike.. i—i dunno-” you started before he moved his free hand to your mouth, shoving long fingers onto your tongue to hush your doubts.
“i know you can take it angel, i always know what you can take. so lemme feel you cumming around me so i can fill y’up, yeah? does my sweet girl want me to fill that pussy up?” he asked, voice cooing at how fucked out you looked.
his words and fingers in your mouth sent your head reeling. “oh fuck, michael, gonna cum—” you said, the words muffled by his digits.
“let me feel it, baby.” with that, you came around his cock, squeezing him as he still thrusted in and out of you with ragged breaths. with a broken groan of your name, he buried himself deep and panted, “that’s it— that’s it, baby, just like that…” he gave you a final thrust, hard, spilling his cum inside of you till it overflowed from your abused cunt.
for a moment, michael stayed there, buried deep inside you while you both caught your breath. his forehead dipped to yours, curls brushing your temple as he let out a shaky laugh at the way you still trembled beneath him.
“there she is,” he murmured softly, voice gone warm again now that he’d worked you through it. one hand slid up to cradle your face while the other rubbed slow strokes over your thigh. “that’s my perfect girl.”
you could barely manage anything more than a weak little sound, still dazed from the way he’d taken you apart. michael only smiled at that, pressing a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips down to your jaw.
“don’t go gettin’ all pouty on me again, alright?” he teased. “you know i’ll always make time for my best girl.”
and really, with the way he held you there, it was impossible not to believe him.
how do you feel abt intox kink + pervy bsf!michael?
yes queen absolutely 👀 the intox in this will be from weed instead of alcohol because i dont drink but u can always catch me with low eyes lol
sorry i made this so long i always get carried away bc I just love sex with pervy michael >< you can imagine this as any era but i had otw! through thrad! era in mind ❥
cw: sexually explicit content mdni! fingering, p in v, some overstimulation, reader’s first time smoking, also not proofread sorry friends
you & michael were sat comfortably on the floor of his bedroom. the two of you were talking and simply enjoying each other’s company until he faced you and asked, “you ever smoke before?” you hadn’t really given it a try, but you’d been around drugs pretty often. plenty of your friends had passed you a joint before but you’d politely decline each time. the truth is, you were scared. you didn’t know if you’d like the feeling. what if something went wrong? you didn’t even know how to smoke.
so with a sigh, you told him the truth, “nah… i dont really need to be doing that stuff.” michael feigned surprise at your answer before nudging you lightly on the arm. “what? i don’t believe that, girl.” he told you. you gave him a shrug in response as silence settled between you two. “well.. you wanna try it? it’ll be real good if you do it with me baby, promise.” you had no reason to say no his voice.
he reached over to the nightstand and picked up a neatly rolled joint, turning it between his fingers before holding it up for you to see. “you just have those on standby?” you joked, earning a laugh from him. he smiled as he held up the joint towards you. “i got brothers, you know.” he said. “c’mere,” he scooted a little closer until your knees bumped. “it ain’t complicated. you don’t gotta be good at it your first time.”
he lit the end with a small lighter from his pocket, taking a slow pull before letting the smoke drift from his lips. “see? nice and easy. you got it baby.” you watched the scene in front of you with wide eyes. his eyes flicked back to yours with an amused smile. “just pull the smoke into your mouth first… then take a little breath in. real little, okay?”
you eyed the joint in his hand. “but what if i start coughing?”
“then you’ll cough.” he shrugged, eyes still scanning your face. “everybody coughs their first time. y’know i wont laugh at you.”
“okay. lemme try it,” you took the joint from his hands and brought slowly it to your lips, “like… this?” you asked before placing the unlit end in your mouth and sucking in smoke. michael watched you with hungry eyes as your soft lips covered the end of the roll. he licked his lips before speaking,“uh huh, that’s it baby. hold it for a little.” you did as he said until he gave you a nod, then you inhaled just a bit before breathing the smoke out of your mouth. you couldn’t stop yourself from coughing as you exhaled, but michael rubbed your back as you did. “you okay, baby? let’s try again.”
soon enough you and michael were sharing laughs between each pass of the roll. you somehow made it onto his bed, feeling like your limbs were sinking into the sheets. michael said something beside you but you couldn’t make out the words. “huh?” you asked, turning your head toward him. his brown eyes looked weirdly beautiful boring into yours. he only smiled and sat up to face you, “i asked how you’re feeling,” he scooted closer, rubbing circles on your thigh, “good, right?” you took a breath in and couldn’t help but smile, even though your eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. “hmm. yeah, feels good,” you tell him slower than you meant to, “just kinda tired.” you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. michael bit his lip when he felt your plush chest pressed on him. he hugged you back before cooing, “aww baby’s tired? ‘s okay i got you.” he laid you down on his bed before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “how’s that baby? feelin’ better?” you shook your head, feeling too warm all over, “no—want… want more, mikey.” you mumbled.
he cursed under his breath before leaning down to kiss you, hard. you whined into his mouth as his tongue ran over yours. your fingers tangled through his dark hair until he pulled away, leaving you both breathless. only michael noticed that you’d started grinding on his knee slotted between your legs. he shushed you as his hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts and panties, fingers immediately tracing your wet slit. “shh, i got you baby, i got you,” he whispered as your back arched up slightly into his touch. he slipped one finger into your cunt, then another, curling them with every thrust. michael’s cock throbbed in his pants as he watched you squirm and whine at his touch. “being so good for me, aren’t you?” he only chuckled as you failed to answer. “pretty.”
michael felt you clench on his fingers as his pace sped up. “hnng— mike!” you breathed out before he said, “i know baby, i know. let me feel you cum all over my fingers, do it f’me.” you cried out as your orgasm hit you harder than you’ve ever felt before. you hardly caught your breath before michael freed his achingly hard cock from the restraints of his pants and stroked himself over you a few times. “gonna feel so good baby, trust me.” as if you would ever not trust him. he lined his cock up with your messy cunt, slapping the tip on it a few times, making you gasp. he pushed into you with one deep thrust, sheathing his cock fully inside you. the two of you shared a groan at the feeling. you felt so full of him, like his cock was reaching your stomach. even though you were still sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but beg for more when michael began fucking into you slowly, too slowly. “feels so good michael, michael please,” he nodded, leaning down to kiss you again. you moaned into his mouth and the pornographic noises filling the room made him thrust into you harder, over and over.
“fuck baby girl, you feel so good,” he groaned. “aren’t you glad we smoked together? say— say thank you, baby.” michael certainly wasn’t in the place to tell you what to do right now, but you panted out a “thanks mikey,” which earned you his thumb rubbing circles to your puffy clit. you both were close now, moaning together as the mess between your legs grew wetter and stickier with each heavy thrust. “cum with me baby, please—” was all he managed before spilling into your cunt with a few more thrusts. you thought he’d never stop moving his hips against yours as you both came, holding onto each other and breathing hard. michael crashed down on the bed next to you before draping his arm over your waist. you two laid together in silence for a bit before he asked, “you hungry?” you smiled at him, “yeah, how’d you know that?” you asked in wonder. he gave you a knowing look. “i just know my baby so well,” he said, pressing a kiss to your head. and yeah, he seemed to.
If anyone had told you that the sweetest, most soft-spoken superstar on the planet was secretly a ravenous, borderline-obsessive fiend behind closed doors, you would’ve laughed. But now? Shaking, sweating, and gripping the headboard of his massive master bed for dear life, you knew the terrifying truth.
Michael was a munch. A total, unapologetic eater.
"Michael, please," you gasped, your thighs twitching violently as his warm, heavy hands locked your hips in place. "I'm—I can't. I’m too sensitive, baby, stop—"
He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. Michael just peeked up from between your legs, his damp curls clinging to his forehead, his lips glistening with your slick. His dark eyes were wide, blown-out, and completely shameless as he swiped his tongue slowly from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your aching clit, making you sob out loud.
"Shh," he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly contrast to his usual high pitch. "I didn't say you could close your legs, beautiful. Keep 'em open for me. Let me taste how much you love me."
He was a perv, plain and simple. It didn't matter if you were trying to watch a movie, winding down after a long day, or literally just woke up; if Michael got a whiff of you, he was diving in. He treated your body like his personal, five-star buffet. He was highly addicted, completely obsessed with the natural, warm scent of your skin, especially when your everyday scent mixed with your natural wetness. He’d bury his nose in your neck, trail his lips down your stomach, and just inhale deeply between your thighs before his tongue even touched you.
He had absolutely zero boundaries, too. If you were sitting on his lap while he was writing music, his large hands would inevitably slip under your skirt to check your moisture. If you were even a little wet, he’d instantly drop to his knees on the floor, pulling your panties to the side right there. He was so incredibly visual, preferring to turn on all the bedside lamps just so he could watch his long fingers parting your rich, folds, blending beautifully against your skin. He'd even pull your lips apart himself, whispering muffled, dirty praise like, "You taste so sweet, baby... look at how much you're leaking for me," as he swallowed every single drop.
"Michael, seriously, I'm going to pass out," you whined, trying to push his head away as a fresh wave of overstimulation hit you.
But he loved when you tried to fight it. He loved the control, often pulling your hips right over his face to anchor you down, whispering, "Smother me, baby. Don't be shy." Even after you’d just had a screaming, toe-curling orgasm and your legs were shaking like jelly, Michael’s greed knew no bounds. He’d wait barely thirty seconds—just long enough for you to catch your breath—before his tongue was right back on your swollen clit. As you cried out and tried to wriggle away, he simply pinned your wrists to the mattress, looking up at you with a dark, teasing smirk. "Just a little more, mama. I need to taste my baby"
otw!era micheal starts crying cause you feel n’ taste too good..
18+ mdni
“baby, be quiet.”
you whisper as your hands frame each side of his head. you lean down, your breasts pressed warmly against his chest. you kiss michael deeply, lips crashing to muffle his needy whimpers. you can’t be caught today.
“oh my gosh,” he breathes against your mouth, his voice trembling and already breaking.
his hands grip your thighs hard, fingers digging in as he tries to ram up into you from below. but this isn’t enough for him. he needs more.
you keep riding, your walls clenching tight around his thick length. his eyes are glistening beneath you, wet and shining in the low light. you assume it’s just sweat, the heat of your bodies making everything slick and shiny.
but he keeps whimpering, soft broken sounds spilling out no matter how hard you kiss him.
yet for micheal you riding him wasn’t cutting it.
he flips you onto your back with a desperate groan. you yelp in shock as he hooks your left leg high over his shoulder, stretching you open in ways you didn’t even know were possible. he thrusts in hard, his cock kissing deep inside you and pressing right against that perfect spot.
relentless strokes follow. sweat slicks your bodies, pressing hot and slippery together. the room smells heavily of musk and sex. in this new position his whimpers grow louder, the deeper sensation driving him wild.
“shh, sweetheart,” you murmur, covering his mouth with your open palm and pulling him closer. “you have to be real quiet.”
even then he keeps moaning into your hand, trying his hardest. he bites gently down on your palm. your eyes roll back at the overwhelming feeling. your palm slips.
he buries his face in your neck, lips pressing desperately against your skin while his hips keep driving deep. the slick slide of skin on skin is filthy, your sweaty bodies gliding together with every thrust. the pressure against your pussy makes your body pulse while the tight heat of your walls squeezes him relentlessly.
you turn your head, spot your discarded panties nearby, and think it’s brilliant—the smartest idea. stuffing them in his mouth should finally shut him up.
you reach for them and push the soft fabric between his lips. you expect it to quiet him down, to finally give you some control.
instead, the opposite happens. michael moans even louder around the panties, the sound vibrating through you. to him this is the best of both worlds—he gets to taste your sweet essence and fuck you at the exact same time. it’s basically his dream come true.
being completely surrounded by you, wrapped in your tight heat while your taste floods his mouth, overwhelming him in a way nothing else ever has.
that’s when you feel it—warm teardrops landing on your cheeks, sliding down your skin.
your eyes flutter open. when you look up, michael’s face is completely fucked out, eyes glassy and half-lidded, tears steadily rolling down his flushed cheeks. his lips are spit-stricken and abused around the bunched fabric, trembling as he bites down hard on the panties trying to hold back the noises.
his hair is a total mess, sticking to his forehead in sweaty strands. he looks so pathetic whimpering over you like this, every thrust making fresh tears slip free because the pleasure is simply too much.
“mikey… sweetie, are you okay?” you whisper, panic cutting through the heat.
he nods quickly, whimpering around the panties, voice muffled. “it just feels… s’good,” he chokes out, tears spilling faster.
“m’sorry baby… i don’t know why… its too much… you feel—“
you reach up to pull the panties from his mouth, worried, but his hand shoots down, grabbing your wrist and interlacing his fingers with yours. he pushes your joined hands down onto the mattress beside your head, pinning you there gently but firmly. he shakes his head, eyes pleading even as more tears slip free.
“no.. no please just..,” he takes in a breath, trying to regain any sense of composure. “just keep them in..”
he keeps driving into you with slow, grinding rolls of his hips, chasing that all-consuming sensation. he’s so overwhelmed—completely wrapped in your slick heat, your taste on his tongue, every sense drowning in you.
your breath hitches, your toes curling as the white-hot tension in your lower stomach threatens to snap. you are completely at his mercy, his whimpers and tears only turning you on more.
“mikey… stop crying, baby, you’re gonna—” you gasp, your fingers tightening around his as your own climax rushes up to meet him.
the desperate squeeze of your walls wrapping around him like a vice is the final trigger. michael’s eyes roll back, more tears spilling as his entire body locks up in a rigid, trembling line.
at the exact moment your body fractures into a violent, pulsing orgasm, he drives into you one last, impossibly deep time.
a choked, muffled cry of absolute surrender is strangled in his throat by the panties as his release floods hot and deep inside you.
your contractions clamp down on him relentlessly, milking him dry as you both shudder together, completely spent drowning in the post-sex sensation.
you brush a tear from his cheek with your free thumb, still catching your breath,
“m’aww such a crybaby”
✧˖°.
a/n: if you already saw me post this.. no you didn’t
syn. - Michael Jackson is the biggest munch and also the biggest sucker for you. So what does he do after ogling at you the whole night and he’s finally off stage? Pull you outside to the back of the tour bus and tear that box up.
warnings - dom!michael but still a sweetheart , oral (fem!receiving), nose deep, use of nicknames, teasing , taunting , his brothers are annoying , & hella interruptions.
You don’t even remember how fast the two of you ran to get back to the tour bus. Once the curtains closed and he grabbed your hand, it was wraps. All you know is that yall were eager to get back before everybody else, and for one specific reason only.
Pussy.
“Oh my god Michael,” you gasp out with a whimper, hands pressed down into his curls instead of gripping as your eyes roll back.
“s’too much, slow down!” You whine, pushing at his head as he glares up at you, big eyes making you melt even more. He hums against you, eyes fluttering as he savors how you taste.
With your knees already hooked over his shoulders and your mini dress bunched up around your waist, he suddenly grips your thighs tighter, nails digging into the back of your thighs as he drives them further toward your chest.
You throw your head back against the red leather of the circular couch, high from pure ecstasy as you grip helplessly against the couch, heels digging into his back.
But just as another moan slips out, the tour bus dips and laughter starts to fill inside. Neither one of y’all notice, and even if Michael did and didn’t tell you, he definitely ignored it.
The laughter soon dies down as confusion starts to fill his brother’s voices.
“Wait, where is Michael?” Marlon suddenly asks, brows furrowed as they stand around.
“Prolly out talking to one of them execs, you know how he is lately. He ‘busy’.” Randy quotes before a smack is landed on the back of his neck.
“Shut that up, don’t be rude.” Jackie corrects as he glares at him. “I was playin’!” Randy throws his arms up in defense but Jackie smacks his lips.
“Yeah, ‘ight.” He rolls his eyes.
Tito butts in as he sits down, “Last I saw him, he was running off stage soon as the curtains closed and went looking for his lil lady.”
“And how long ago was that?” Jackie asks, one brow raised.
“Like ten…twenty minutes ago?” Tito shrugs.
The front goes dead silent at that. And right on time, a soft—breathless moan flies through the air from the back lounge.
“Nah,” Marlon scoffs, a grin on his stupid face. “He ain’t talking with no execs, that boy back there gettin’ some nookie!” Marlon looks at the three of his brothers before they all start cackling hysterically.
Hearing that sudden burst of laughter from the front lounge made your heart immediately drop to your ass.
Not his goofy ass brothers again. Please not again.
They were always interrupting or ruining something. Anytime you kissed Michael, you would not hear the end of it. So imagine the reactions y’all would get right now.
Your eyes widen, immediately becoming flustered as you just now realize for some reason how thin the walls are on a tour bus.
It was one thing to get caught kissing, but it was another to get caught with Michael Jackson’s face all up in your cooch. Especially when it’s by his big headed ass brothers.
You instantly bit down on your lip as an attempt to swallow a moan, but Marlon’s loud ass disturbed your poor shot at concentration.
“What y’all in here doin’?!” You can practically hear the grin on his face. “Don’t get quiet now!” He shouts from the hallway, getting closer to the back. “We heard you already! What happened?!”
You huff out a heavy but whiny groan, eyes rolling back so hard it physically hurts. “Oh my god,” you mutter, utterly mortified.
Michael doesn’t stop shit he’s doing. If anything, it just gives him more of a drive to make you become even louder as his grip tightens around your thighs.
“Ignore them,” he murmurs in a low, velvety tone, as he cuts his dark eyes up at you for a second. “Don’t pay ‘em no mind. Just focus on me.”
And before you can even respond or attempt to focus, his head drops right back down into your heat. He wastes no time finding that same exact sweet spot, swirling slowly, making you mewl.
“Yo, Mikey!” Randy shouts, knocking on the wall. “Ignore ‘em?! Nigga, you tearin’ her up or what?” Randy snickers as they stare at the pocket door, ears against the wall.
That irritates the fuck outta Michael, cause he snaps his head toward the door quickly. “Gon’ on somewhere!” He shouts, his voice slightly cracking with tone he only used with his brothers. “Leave us alone!”
All four of ‘em just start cackling again. “Oh he mad, mad!” Tito laughs, tapping Randy as they laugh together.
“Ou, I wish y’all would shut the fuck up!” You yell, huffing as you feel your entire face heat up, gripping on that red leather on the couch like you were scared you were gonna fall.
Michael’s head snaps up once again, his brows furrowed, face looking real straight. “Hey, don’t be cussing like that,” he scolds softly, voice gentle but firm as his thumbs rub circles on the inside of your thighs.
“Just calm down baby, stop listening to them.”
“M’tryin Mikey..” You whine, your chest heaving as you look down at him. “But they pissin me off!” You huff.
“Alright, ight, we quit! We leaving y’all alone forreal!” Jackie shouts, his voice finally fading back toward the front of the bus. “We going back to the front!”
For about five minutes, it actually does get quiet. Exactly five minutes.
The hum of the bus engine is loud, you can hear the AC running, and Michael is losing himself all up in you once again. So much so that you tense up, eyes watering as they roll back. A loud and helpless moan flies out from your mouth—
“Ugh! Oh Mikey!”
Your eyes instantly snap open. It’s Marlon’s goofy ass, right outside the door again, for some reason perfectly mimicking the exact pitch of the moan you were about to let out. Irritating ass.
“Ouuu, Michael!”
“Marlon ima beat your ass, watch out!” You shout loud enough so he can hear, your hips rolling instinctively as Michael takes advantage of your distracted yelling, sucking and licking along your slit.
A hand flies up to your mouth, suppressing a moan as your eyes roll back aggressively, tears welling up.
“Just ignore him mama,” Michael mutters against your skin, completely unfazed by their taunting. He still has his sleeves rolled up from the concert. He wasn’t worried about them, not when he waited all night for this. “Just keep looking at me.”
Randy snickers, “come on Marlon, stop it! You know michael trying to eat in peace!” He chimed in from the hallway. He and Marlon burst into laughter whilst Tito let out a snicker.
You begin to yell at them again, “Y’all are so weird and n-nast—” But it’s cut short when Michael starts lapping your juices up, hitting that same spot over and over again, causing your back to arch and for you to grip his hair. “Oh f-fuuck!”
Your mind instantly goes blank, whatever smartass remark you had ready to throw at Randy died right on your tongue.
Michael didn’t give you time to catch your breath or shout another curse word. He yanked you impossibly closer to his face, nose bumping against your clit, and picked up the pace.
Not letting up for a second.
You try your hardest to swallow the lewd sound falling from your lips, but it’s no use. He’s fucking you up.
“Mmnh— m’gonna cum Mike,” you whimper, “gonna cumm..!” You whine loudly as your heels dig into his back, your thighs squeezing around his head.
The sound of your breathless moans tear through the air, and your hips stutter helplessly against his mouth as your eyes begin to blur.
Goddamn that boy can eat.
You go limp, your breath hitching weakly as you entirely forget his damn brothers even exist.
Michael stays right where he is, waiting for you to come down from your high as he kisses your inner thighs.
His lips and chin are completely drenched as a happy grin curls right onto his face. He licks his lips as he finally pulls away, pulling your white dress back over your hips with a gentle pat, obviously stashing your panties elsewhere.
He was proud of himself for finally getting you to shut your very pretty but loud mouth.
Outside the door? It’s dead silent.
For a second, all that’s audible is the hum of the AC. Then, without hesitation, Marlon’s voice breaks the silence. “Damn… I think Mike actually tore her up.”
Tito instantly groans, “oh my god.”
A heavy smack echoes through the wall, followed by Jackie smacking his lips. “Man, get yo stupid ass away from the door.”
“Dang..” Marlon holds the back of his neck, glaring at Jackie.
“Quit bothering them. Hardheaded ass gon’ get us fired. Come on.” He murmurs as they retreat back to the way front of the bus, sitting down.
Michael stands to his full height, towering over you in that white bedazzled button up and lays a soft kiss upon your lips with a smile, letting you taste yourself.
“You taste good.” He compliments between kisses, and you smile big against his lips, pulling away to bury your face in his neck.
“Be quiet, Michael.” You mumble, giggling like a dummy as he chuckles.
Yeah, you loved an eater. This one specifically.
kissmyglxck — don’t copy my work, ask to translate, & if you recreate anything pls tag me <3
thriller ! era synopsis — a short story of how michael grew a mustache. ( spoiler— it’s because he can’t stay away from your pussy )
Nervousness was practically vibrating between the two of you in the quiet of his bedroom, the heavy velvet curtains drawn shut to block out the rest of the world. You sat on the edge of the mattress, your fingers twisting together in your lap, while Michael hovered just a few feet away. He looked incredibly young, his signature curls framing a face that was currently completely smooth, save for the bright, anxious look in his eyes.
"Are you sure about this?" he whispered, his voice dropping into that soft, gentle register he used whenever he was trying to be extra careful with you. "I just... I want it to be perfect for you because we've never done this before."
"I'm sure," you breathed, though your heart was hammering against your ribs. "Just... be careful with me, Mike."
"Always," he promised, finally moving closer. He dropped to his knees between your thighs, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on your knees.
When he first leaned in, it was a little clumsy. He didn't quite know where to put his nose, and his initial movements were a bit too hesitant, a bit too fast, making you shift uncomfortably. He pulled back instantly, looking up at you with wide, worried eyes. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I'm doing it wrong."
"You didn't hurt me," you said softly, reaching down to cup his jaw, guiding him back. "Just slow down. Take your time. Right there..."
The moment he adjusted, finding the perfect rhythm, everything changed. A soft, involuntary gasp left your lips, and you gripped his shoulders. Hearing that sound did something to Michael. It was like a switch flipped inside his mind. He completely lost himself in the sensation of making you feel good, his tongue finding a steady, agonizingly perfect pace that had your toes curling in the air. By the time you arched off the bed, completely undone by a wave of pleasure you’d never felt before, Michael was staring up at you with a completely dazed, blown-out expression. It had officially changed his life.
From that afternoon onward, it became an absolute obsession.
The hesitancy was entirely gone, replaced by a relentless, desperate hunger to worship you. The moment the two of you were behind closed doors—whether it was the lock clicking shut in his home studio, the privacy divider rolling up in the back of a limo, or just a few stolen minutes in a green room—Michael was on his knees.
"Michael, wait, we only have ten minutes before your meeting," you gasped one afternoon as he practically tackled you onto the sofa, his hands already pulling at your clothes.
"Ten minutes is plenty of time," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with a sudden, intense heat that left you breathless. "Please. Just let me. I need to feel you, I need to taste you."
He didn't even care about his own release most of the time. He would get so intensely aroused just from the sound of your whimpers and the way your body shook under his hands that the sheer overstimulation would completely overwhelm him. More than once, while completely buried between your thighs, a sudden, ragged groan would escape his throat, his entire body going rigid as he ruined his custom pants, cumming hard without you ever even touching him. He would just lie there against you, panting and completely spent, a triumphant, dazed smile on his face.
As the weeks went on, he wanted to try everything. He became incredibly fond of face sitting, loving the absolute vulnerability of having you completely on top of him, letting him look straight up at you while he worked you into a frenzy. Other times, he’d pull you into a tight sixty-nine, the intensity of your slobbering mouth working his cock and the taste of your sweet arousal driving him so wild that he could barely keep his composure.
But then, the physical side effects of his new favorite hobby started to show.
It started as a faint, dark shadow right above his upper lip, a subtle peach fuzz starting to come in around his mouth. You didn't think much of it at first, until you remembered that old, ridiculous wives' tale.
One evening, while you were sitting on his lap in his room, you traced the soft hairs with your thumb. "You know... there’s a saying about why men suddenly start growing facial hair like this."
Michael blinked, wrapping his arms around your waist. "What saying?"
When you whispered the myth into his ear, his entire face flushed a deep, bright crimson. He let out a high-pitched, embarrassed giggle, hiding his face in your neck. "Oh my gosh, no way! That’s not real. Is it? You're just teasing me."
"I dunno, Mike," you laughed, running your fingers through his curls. "You never used to have this. Now it's growing in fast."
He looked in the mirror later that night, touching the shadow on his lip with a shy, incredibly proud little smirk. He clearly didn't mind the myth at all; if anything, it felt like a badge of honor. Within a few more weeks, that shadow fully filled out into a distinct, neat little mustache.
The real trouble started when his family started noticing.
You were all gathered at the family home for Sunday dinner, sitting around the large dining table. You were happily chatting with Janet when La Toya suddenly squinted across the table at her brother.
"Michael, what is that on your face?" La Toya asked, pointing a fork at him. "Are you trying to grow a mustache?"
The entire table went quiet. Jackie leaned over to get a closer look, laughing. "Man, look at that! Where did that come from? You’ve never been able to grow facial hair like that."
"Yeah, Mike, you look like you're tryna be all grown up all of a sudden," Marlon chimed in, chuckling. "What’s the occasion?"
You felt all the blood rush to your face, your face burning so hot you were certain everyone could see it. You choked on your sip of water, coughing into a napkin to hide your sheer panic. You knew exactly where that mustache came from. Every single hair on his lip was a direct result of his absolute obsession with your body.
Michael, however, didn't panic at all. He just offered a calm, incredibly polite smile, though his eyes darted over to you across the table, flashing a wicked, knowing look that made your stomach do flips. "I just thought it was time for a change, that's all. A new look for a new era."
"Well, I think it looks nice," Katherine said gently from the head of the table, completely oblivious to the silent crisis you were experiencing.
The second the two of you got back to his place and the bedroom door closed, you grabbed his arm, your face still burning. "Michael! Oh my god, I almost died, I swear. This is getting too out of hand."
"What is?" he asked, acting completely innocent as he stepped into your space, his hands immediately sliding down to your hips.
"The mustache! The... the reason for the mustache!" you cried out, trying to push him back, though your own body was already betraying you at his touch. "You do it too much. Every single time we have sex, every time we're alone, you just HAVE to do it. You're obsessed, Mike. You need to take a break."
Michael didn't care. He just chuckled, a low, confident sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw, the slight prickle of his new mustache rubbing against your skin.
"I can't help it," he murmured, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his breath hot against your ear. "It's my favorite thing in the world. I'm not stopping."
Before you could even utter another protest, he was already pulling you down to the bed, completely intent on adding to his new look.
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