that damn smile gets me everytime
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that damn smile gets me everytime
small drabble about everything michael does during sex that turns you on oh so badly!
sex with michael was heaven sent, he knew all of your spots, everything that made you feel good, but there’s just certain stuff that makes you even hornier than you’ve ever been.
his hair
you could be bent over the bathroom counter, looking into the mirror, while michael was fucking into you from behind.
“ohh my god, mama.. s-so fucking good.. makin me curse..” he whimpered out, his hands digging into your back while his length plummets into you at an unimaginable speed..
“mikey! oh shitt! s-so damn good!” you whined, looking into the mirror, and some caught your eye.. his long hair, was swinging back and forth, with every hard thrust. your pussy tightens up, and before seeing his hair, you were no where near close, but now, you were making a mess all over his dick..
“s-shit baby! you cummin already? you ain’t said nothing?” he moans out, smacking your ass
his eyes
michael had the eyes of an angel, and everyone knew it.. he could use them to get anything from you, extra kisses before rehearsals, sweets before bed, he even once persuaded you to come on tour with him.
in the bedroom, his eyes were something different. you were ontop, riding him like you couldn’t get enough of him.. he was biting his lip, his hands gripping your hips..
you prop yourself up in a standing squat, and ride him faster.. michael was losing his mind, he was so loud.
“b-baby! ohmy— mama!” he cried, his toes curling. you bite your lip, your ass slapping against his thighs.
he grips your hips tighter, and you glance down at him, just to see him staring up at you, with this desperate doe eyes.. you start to tighten up, and you whimper..
“ohmygosh mikey, your eyes..” you whimpered, and he plants his feet flat on the bed, and starts thrusting into you..
“michael im cumming!” you whined, and so does he, still looking up at you.. your forehead drops to his, and he maintains eye contact, even while you’re squirting all over him.
his voice
michael was vocal during sex, he loved telling you how good you make him feel.. whether it was moaning your name, whining out little broken sentences, like, “don’t stop baby.. i love you..”, or, “best—best i’ve ever had, don’t leave me..”, and sometimes he’d even sing to you..
you were on your knees infront of michael, while he was sat on the edge of the bed in a wide manspread.. you had been giving him head for the last ten minutes, and he was losing his shit.
you bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue around all that you could fit in your mouth, one of your hands stroking the rest.
now, michael didn’t really allow you to give him head, you had to BEG him this one time, and boy was he glad he agreed..
“ohhhmygodd baby.. shit!” he whimpered, his back arching off the bed, and his hands gripping the sheets..
you hum around him, slurping him all the way up, and your tongue runs over the vein across his tip.. at the same time, your free hand moves to his balls, squeezing them..
“oh! ouu!” he sings out, his eyes rolling back and his head tilting back.. “right there mama! mmphh!” he sings, panting.
he was actually singing, in his falsetto.. and you were shocked.. his body tenses and his hand grips the back of your head..
“baby! i’m cummin!” he whined, releasing all into your mouth.. you pump him a few more times, then pull away to swallow..
you giggle, looking up at his shaking form.. “michael, you were singing..” you say, tilting your head..
“i was?” he pants out, and he covers his face right after..
princess’s note: HIHIHI, i was thinking about his long luscious hair swinging so i wrote this little drabble, i hope you guys like it :)
⋆.𐙚 ̊ save a horse, ride a cowboy! ⋆.𐙚 ̊
description ⋆.𐙚 ̊: after your parents send you down to the country for the summer, you reunite with your favorite cowboy.
warnings ⋆.𐙚 ̊: smut, p in v, riding, semi public sex, spanking, michael is NASTY, hair pulling.
pairing ⋆.𐙚 ̊: cowboy!michael x black!fem!reader
you had just arrived on your grandparent’s ranch. after you got into the modeling business, and started doing really good, your parents felt that you became too entitled. so they decided to remind you where you came from. you knock on the door.
you stand there for like five minutes, and the door doesn’t open.. “ohmygod..” you muttered, sighing.
“looking for ya granny and ya granddaddy?” says a deep voice from the back yard.. you look back, and see michael fuckin jackson, the little boy you crushed on for years before you moved away.
you smile, waving.. “hii michael! you look.. different.” you say, eying him up and down.. “your grandparents told me to let you in if they was still gone by the time you came.” he says, walking towards you. you move aside to let him on the porch.
“what, you too good for hugs now, little ms vogue magazine?” he says, raising his eyebrows. you giggle, shaking your head before hugging him.. his arms wrap around you, and his hands stop right above your ass.
he unlocks the door and opens it, letting you step in. you walk down the hallway to your old room, setting your bags down.
“soo mikey, what are y’doing in my grandparents backyard?” you say, looking at him lock up.
“ehh, i just help around on the farm.. feed the horses, maintain the chicken coops, stuff like that..” he muttered , stepping towards you.
“mhmm.. where’s your brothers and sisters?” you question, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
“they in the house.. right next door, y’know that already, girly.” he says, sitting right next to you. “i heard you needed to be reminded where you come from.. that’s why you here, minnie?” he says, looking at you.
“well, i wouldn’t say that. i mean, when you’re as successful at me, and only at the age of nineteen, you can get a little ahead of yourself. i’m not as bad as they made it seem tho.” you explained, rubbing your thigh..
“mm. seems like there’s more to it, but i won’t push.” he says, and gets up.. “you wanna come look around the farm? i can show you where to go.” he says, offering a hand.
you take his hand and get up. he walks you to the farm, and you’re greeted with two, beautiful horses. “are these new? i don’t remember pop pop telling me he had these..” you say, reaching out to touch the mane of a beautiful white horse.
he nods, watching you. “he just got em bout two months ago. that one’s snow white, and that one’s norbit.” he says..
your eyes squint a little and you tilt your head, “the hell? why this one got a nice name and the other one named norbit?” you say, and michael chuckles.
“your grandma named snow while, and your granddaddy named norbit.” he explains, patting your lower back to signal you to keep walking.
yall had finished the little mini tour around the farm, and you two were sitting on a bench in the backyard.. you were talking to michael, and his cowboy hat caught your eye..
“tink, what’s wrong? is there somethin on my head?” he says, already ready to slap his damn head off his shoulders if there was.
“no, no michael.. i just like your hat..” you say, tilting your head and laughing when you see the relief spread on his face.
“ohh, y’do? y’wanna wear it?” he says, licking his lips.. he takes it off and offers it to you, and you accept the offer.. you prop the hat up on your head, and you felt like as soon as you put it on, he started looking at you differently.
“what? what’s wrong, mikey? do i look bad?” you say, a small pout forming on your lips.. he immediately shakes his head..
“no, no ofcourse not.. it’s quite the opposite..” he says, scooting closer to you.. “oh so you think i look good?” you say.
“mhm..” he hums, and his hand trails to your thigh, gently gripping it.. “you want me to show you how good y’look?” he suggests, and you nod.
it was till about fifteen minutes later that you’d found yourself in this predicament. michael was still sat on the bench, in a wide manspread, and you were ontop of him, riding his dick like your life depends on it, and you still had his hat on..
“there you go, tink.. cmon, ride me girl..” he hisses, his head tilting back as he smacks your ass cheeks.. you whine, lifting your hips up and down.. your ass was smacking against his thighs everytime you’d come down..
“fuckk mikey.. s’big..” you whimpered, getting lost in the sensation. you were trying to stay alert, since you two were literally fucking out in the open, but it was hard when his tip kept kissing your gspot the way it was..
“shittt.. i know, baby.. but you can take it. take all of it, girl, ride all of me..” he grunts, gripping your hips and pulling you down harder..
“ouu! michael!” you gasp out, leaning back and propping your hands on his knees.. you bounce up and down, biting your lip.. he had the perfect view of your pussy wrapped around his cock..
he bites his lip, and his eyes roll back for a quick moment, before he comes back.. he starts thrusting up into you, meeting each of your downwards strokes..
“fuckkk.. lookit this pussy creamin on me.. ride me baby, cmon, keep going..” he moans out, his head falling back against the backrest of the bench..
“right there! ohmygoshhh!” you whine, covering your mouth.. his hands trails up your back at grabs your two braided ponytails, tugging at them.. your head tilts back and your back arches..
“ohhh fuckk! mikey m’close!” you whimpered, toes curling in your cute little boots ..
“yeaaa, give it to me, show me what i been missing out on..” he groans, grinning up at you.. he thrusts up into you at a faster pace, and his tip slams into your cervix over and over again.. your eyes roll back and your body tenses a little..
“oh fuck! oh god oh god!” you whimpered, releasing everything all over his dick.. you bounce faster, trying to make sure the pleasure never ends..
michael could barely take it, your walls tightening up, the faster pace, you were driving him crazy.. “fuck angel, y-y’er like a d-damn rabbit.. s-so fast.. don’t stop..” he moans, a few whines slipping out here and there.
“never gonna s-stop.. feels so good, wanna ride you all day..” you slur, biting your lip and you prop both of your feet up, taking him deeper..
“ohhh shitt.. there you go, you got it.. y-y’gon make me cum..” he whimpered, his eyes rolling back. his hands grip your hips and he gasps a little.
before you knew it, your second orgasm was taking over, making you chase even more pleasure..
“goddamn mama.. ohh fuck.. y’er drivin me crazy, riding—riding me so fuckin good..” he whined, smacking your ass again.. his toes curl in his boots and his back starts to arch..
“michael yesss, c-cum in me, c-cum in me while i ride.. wanna feel it..” you whine, too cockdrunk to realize what you’re saying..
“fuckk baby im cummin! shit!” he gasps out, his hips jerking as he releases his hot cum into you.. “fuckk baby, don’t stop bouncing yet, bounce while i cum!” he whimpered, and you obliged..
eventually, you slow down, and come to a stop.. you cut into his chest, and he wraps an arm around you..
“we just fucked outside.. this is nasty..” you muttered , giggling.
“seemed like you liked it enough to cum twice..” he murmurs, rubbing your back.. you two sit in silence for a moment, until a voice from the house interrupts it.
“y/n, where you at sugar? me and pop pop are back!” your granny calls, and your eyes widen..
“shit..” you mutter, as you and michael scramble to put your clothes on.
tinka’s note!!: i finished this a 2:01 am, help 💔💔💔
MICHAEL JACKSON IN "THRILLER 40" DOCUMENTARY (2023) thank you for 400+ followers, I love you all ❤︎.
Old Heads
You both can’t work a phone in your old age (Elder!Michael x Elder!Reader) His reading glasses are so cute!
"Well what's this?" He mumbled as his head dipped.
"Says accessibility." You mumbled getting closer as he hummed.
Your grandchildren watched with disgust, confusion and humor. They couldn't believe you guys couldn't do this simple thing. They've heard so many stories about their legend of a grandfather and he can't even work his phone that well. Don't get Michael wrong he can do the basics but trying to find a specific setting was hard. Even you couldn't find it.
He is such an angelface 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
Two Months Away⋆˙⟡
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ One-shot
Content: Michael Jackson x Fem!Reader, Badangerous / Dangerous Era Michael Jackson, Established Relationship, Fiancé!Michael, Domestic Fluff, ABSOLUTELY TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF SUPER FLUFFY, Soft Michael, Physical Affection, Kissing (a lot), Makeing Out, Bathing Together, Body Image Comfort, Vitiligo Discussion, Jackson Family, @ Neverland Ranch, Suggestive Themes (prob PG-13), NO USE OF Y/N
Summary: You come home from a run expecting a shower and end up with a candlelit bath, a surprise dress and an overly affectionate MJ for a fiancé. You then host a Jackson family gathering together— well at least you try, he can't keep his eyes and hands to himself.
A/n: This was legit so fun to write I was smiling and kicking my feet while writing this. I've had a lot of time during long plane and car rides, so I'm just popping these out. I was gonna end in smut, but wasn't sure if anyone would even want it since I'm not crazy good at it. Also— again, if you see grammatical issues- NO YOU DIDNT!! Anyway, as always, thx for reading and ily all <3 // edit// THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!! I did not expect this but I’m so glad u guys enjoyed it!! <33333
Tags: @memyselfandmikey @amazegumballz @mino99jksn @nimblejuggernauthorizon @iheartpizzamyheart @sssshahadddd
Masterlist
The grass catches your ankles through every step of your run through Neverland, still damp from sprinklers. The scent of freshly cut grass melded with that of blossoms near the trail.
Beads of sweat roll down your temple and onto your flushed cheeks as you slow to catch your breath.
You take the back entrance through the kitchen because you know he’ll have something to say for disappearing on your run.
Your feet quietly patter up the stairs and towards your bedroom. Your bedroom door opens without you touching the handle.
He's standing there with arms crossed, very poorly forcing an angry face.
“I suspected you got kidnapped or something.”
“Kidnapped?” You laugh and grab his face. “Baby, it was not even an hour.”
“It felt like three.”
He reaches for your warm face with cold hands.
“I missed you.” His face softens.
You smile into his touch, still hesitant because your sweat has made you embarrassed to be touched at all right now.
“Sorry.”
He tries to wrap his arms around you, but you resist with guarding arms in front of you.
“Baby, no, I’m disgusting right now.”
“I don’t care,” the corners of his lips curl downwards faintly.
“I smell awful. I need a bath.”
Before you even finish the word, he begins gathering candles and searching for a match. You stand leaning against the armoire as you watch him service you like the gentleman he is.
You step into the bathroom with dozens of candles surrounding the jacuzzi tub like city lights.
The faucet is still running, frothing into bubbles as it lands into the water. Rose petals were scattered into the suds, embellishing the dreamy water.
The candlelight is soft and just warm enough to make Michael’s skin appear a golden orange.
“You didn't have to,” you run your fingers through the back of his head as he faces the faucet.
“I wanted to.”
You bend to peck his temple as a ‘thank you’ and begin to strip.
Michael’s face remains downwards in respect, but his eyes cannot leave your bare body. He gulps, trying to shoo away any unholy thoughts before you notice.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and he knows it. You’re getting married in two months, and you’ve shared intimate moments. However, he can’t help but feel ashamed, as if he’s somehow invading your privacy.
“Michael,” you pause before stepping in, folding your arms across your chest to shield yourself from the cold breezes.
“Yeah?” He licks his lips with his eyes on his knees.
“You joining me?”
“If you want,” he draws circles in the bath water.
“I do.”
He smiles softly towards you.
You help him undress gently while he stares at your lips hungrily— you peel off his flannel, then his white t shirt, then everything else.
He takes your hand to lead you to the bath, carefully holding you so you don’t slip.
You sit on his lower lap while he tenderly scrubs your skin. You listen while he talks about random things— who’s bringing what to the family gathering today, how TJ keeps insisting on bringing water balloons, and how he has to grab a few things from the garage.
You absentmindedly trace the edge of where his vitiligo begins and ends.
He instinctively pulls back— not because he’s uncomfortable with you— just habit.
“Sorry.” You catch yourself and move your hands to stretch behind his head, with your face nestled in the nape of his neck. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” His hand rolls to the small of your back and sways.
“I just think it’s beautiful.” You whisper just below his ear.
He smiles without looking at you. “I don’t.”
You straighten your posture to look him in the eyes while cupping his cheek.
“You don’t have to.”
Your eyes shift from the right eye to the left inconsistently.
“I’ll think for both of us.”
You take a peck before returning to his neck.
He holds you a little tighter and laughs quietly.
“You’re beautiful,” he hums.
You raise yourself once again to smile at his lips.
“You are what you eat.”
You cringe slightly, hoping he takes your dirty joke well.
He certainly didn’t.
“Oh noo, baby.”
He fails to hold his laughter.
“It’s funny, stop.”
“You’re dirty,” he says with a smile before placing a scoop of bubbles on the tip of your nose.
“Mmhm. Filthy.”
You share the bubbles as you place your lips against his, occasionally kissing eachother’s smiles.
He wraps you in an enormous towel and lingers while you begin getting dressed.
“Oh wait—,” he pauses you for a moment to dig in the closet.
He returns with a large garment bag.
“I found something for you while I was at that boutique to get the belt.”
“While you were out shopping for you?”
“For us.”
Cheesing like a child on Christmas, he unzips it.
Inside, a cream sundress with a deeper plunge than you usually wear and a tighter hip silhouette.
It’s beautiful and elegant, but you weren’t sure you could pull it off gracefully. Your worries of looking indecent hid behind your smile.
“Mikey, it’s beautiful,” you hold your arm nervously.
“You don’t like it?”
It breaks your heart to see his excitement fade.
“I love it.”
You grab at the fabric.
“But baby, I don’t want to look indecent in front of your parents.”
“Indecent?”
His face wrinkles as if you’re speaking nonsense.
“This is your house. They’re your family, too, angel.”
He rests the dress on the bed and slides his hands down your waist and onto your butt.
“I’m so confident it’ll be beautiful on you— I even got it tailored for you.”
“Tailored?”
Your arms rest comfortably around his neck.
“With your measurements and all.”
He rests his forehead onto yours, just enough to bump noses.
“You know my measurements?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re so creepy it’s sexy.”
You smile into a smooch before slipping away to get dressed.
While helping zip your dress, his hands linger.
He can’t help but crave your touch— smoothing the fabric at your waist, then adjusting the hems.
He lingers above your shoulder while you do your makeup.
He’s completely captivated watching your reflection instead of you.
You catch him.
“What?”
“You look—”
He can barely even finish.
He just shakes his head.
“— like a dream.”
You melt into his embrace to kiss his jaw before continuing to get ready.
The house became wonderfully chaotic within minutes— music blasting, children running, people laughing in every room, Jackie making small talk with everyone in the vicinity while grilling, and Michael sprinting in a water-gun war with TJ and Siggy.
You’re busy carrying bowls of food while little Stevanna follows you from the kitchen to the table repeatedly.
She tugs you with her chubby hand a few times.
Eventually, you give her the attention she begs for, “Hunny, I'm holding a salad right now.”
“Up,” she demands with the few words she knows.
“Baby, I can't. I have to put food out.”
“Up.”
You smile defeatedly.
“You're lucky you're so cute.”
You lift her onto your hip.
She immediately wraps both arms around your neck.
Michael glances over while getting absolutely soaked by TJ.
He doesn’t even react.
The water gun keeps spraying him while he’s frozen watching you.
You don’t notice.
You’re too busy convincing Stevanna that olives aren't bugs.
TJ laughs.
“Uncle Michael!”
No response.
“You’re losing!”
“Huh?”
Michael looks down, suddenly feeling the weight of water clinging to his T-shirt.
Everyone’s talking.
His hand naturally settles on your thigh beneath the table. The gesture is so familiar, yet gives you butterflies every time.
Your fingers weave through his.
He leans in below your ear to whisper, “Y’know—”
“Mm?”
“I couldn't stop watching you.”
You smile faintly.
“Watching me?”
“Outside. With Stevanna.”
“When I was holding her?”
He smiles to himself and nods.
“You'd make a wonderful mother.”
You shift away enough to look him in the eyes and blush at your feet.
“You too.”
He chuckles softly.
“That's not how it works—”
You shove him.
“You know what I mean, dimwit.”
His amused huffing dies down into a comfortable silence.
“I can't wait to marry you.”
You can feel his pulse quicken through his hand.
You don't say anything for a second, and he holds his breath.
Finally, your lips part enough for him to release it, “Me neither.”
As the afternoon fades, everyone else is outside.
You slip into the hallway looking for another pitcher of lemonade.
Michael catches your wrist as you pass.
“Mikey? What the hell?”
You smile despite yourself.
“Shh.”
He pulls you in tight enough to feel the heat of your abdomen.
“Baby—” you attempt to resist, but not nearly hard enough.
“No one will notice.”
“They absolutely will.”
“Just five minutes.”
He steals a kiss against your refusing lips.
“My god, we’re supposed to be hosting,” you stop fighting and allow him to breathe you in.
“We are.”
Another lingering kiss.
“We’re awful hosts,” you laugh quietly, your forehead falling against his.
“The worst.”
His smile lingers for only a second before it disappears into another kiss.
This one is slower, needier— as if he’d been thinking about it ever since you’d disappeared on your morning run.
His hand slides from your wrist to the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against him until there isn’t any space left to negotiate. You can feel his smile against your lips when your legs turn to jelly immediately.
“You’re making it very hard to go back out there,” you murmur.
“I know.”
“You’re doing it on purpose.”
“Mmhm.”
You laugh through your nose before kissing him again yourself.
He sighs softly into your mouth, the sound almost swallowed by the kiss, his fingers absentmindedly smoothing over the fabric stretched across your hip. It isn’t hurried. If anything, he seems determined to memorize every second of it.
When you finally pull back for air, his eyes don’t leave yours.
“I was right,” he licks his lips to savor your taste.
“About?”
“The dress,” he looks you up and down, “can't keep my hands off you in it.”
Your eye roll contradicts your smile.
A moment passes in silence, and his eyes take the time to consume you.
He puffs air dramatically through his lips.
“I still can't believe you're marrying me.”
Your expression softens.
“You're still surprised?”
His jaw clenches whilst switching his gaze from left eye to right.
“Every day.”
You cradle his face between both hands, your thumbs brushing across his cheeks.
A grin breaks across his face before he steals another kiss—quicker this time, playful enough to make you laugh.
His lips trail briefly to your cheek, then your jaw, lingering just below your ear for a heartbeat before he rests his forehead against yours again.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I know.”
“Wrong answer.” A smile breaks through once again. “You're supposed to say it back.”
“I was waiting for you to stop kissing me.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Really?”
“Might just keep you hidden in the hallway.”
“You’d abandon your own family gathering?”
“For you?” He shrugs. “Is that even a question?”
You shake your head with an affectionate smile before straightening the collar of his now slightly wrinkled shirt.
“Come on, baby.”
Outside, laughter spills through the open windows, water balloons continue bursting somewhere across the lawn, and Stevanna’s squeaky voice is already audible as she asks where you’ve gone.
Michael glances down at your joined hands and smiles to himself. ‘Just two more months,’ he thinks to himself— then he’ll get to hold that hand until death do you part.
Angel Face: Michael Jackson x Reader
synopsis: home alone, and you decide it's the best time for an improvised photoshoot with Michael. Thing is your boyfriend is playful, but shy, and gets easily flustered every time you call him angel face
warning: author's attempt at being funny, sub!brat!michael and softdom!reader, g/n!reader bc everyone should be able to enjoy this fr fr, handjob and lots of kisses but somehow they don't kiss idk don't ask me why
a/n: inspired by this rumor where people say he used to get so bashful every time someone called him angel face, and i love it
“Don’t move, just like that!”
The flash of the camera illuminated Michael’s face and reflected on his pearly white smile. He didn’t like getting his picture taken, but for you, he would do anything. I mean, if taking a picture was enough for you to be happy, he’ll willingly do it.
You had showed up to his house unannounced and decided to conduct a photo shoot in his room. No one else in the house, and you figured it would be a good way to pass the time and to make memories with him. He didn’t really mind, he just hoped that you would also let him take pictures of you. He wouldn’t like to be the main attraction.
“Smile, angel face”
Michael immediately ducked his head with a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"See, that's exactly why I don't let you take pictures of me."
"Why?"
"Because you start sayin' stuff like that."