your wish is my command ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ hope you enjoy this doll (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
♡₊˚ 🏆・₊✧𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐲, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥
♡ song of the year wasn't the only thing michael planned on claiming that night.
୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ thrad!era ⟡ michael jackson x presenter!fem!reader
FEBRUARY 25, 1986
you stand backstage at the 28th annual grammy awards with the soft hum of the audience drifting through the curtains like a warm tide, the air buzzing with the kind of electricity that only nights like this can hold, and you breathe in slowly as you go over your lines for the third time, whispering them under your breath while your fingers trace the cue cards even though you already know every word by heart, your pulse steady but alert because you want everything to be perfect, not just for the show but because you know he is somewhere out there in the crowd watching you with those dark eyes that always make your stomach flutter, and the thought alone sends a quiet warmth through your chest as you straighten your posture and prepare to step into the lights.
the stage manager gives you a gentle nod and you walk out into the golden glow of the auditorium, the applause rising like a wave that washes over you as you smile at the sea of faces, the cameras, the glittering gowns and tuxedos, the shimmering set pieces that catch the light like jewels, and you let your voice carry with practiced grace as you welcome everyone, your tone warm and confident even though your heart is beating a little faster than usual because you know he is somewhere in the audience listening to every word. "good evening everyone and welcome to the twenty eighth annual grammy awards, we are so excited to celebrate the incredible music and artistry that defined this past year, thank you all for being here tonight."
you hold the microphone with both hands as the applause settles, the lights softening just enough to let you see the first few rows of the audience, and your gaze flickers instinctively toward the spot where you know he is seated, catching only the faint outline of his silhouette, the familiar tilt of his head, the quiet stillness of his posture that always gives him away, and even from this distance you feel the invisible thread between you tighten, a secret connection woven through months of stolen moments and whispered conversations and careful glances that no one else has ever noticed.
you continue with your lines, introducing the first categories of the night, your voice steady and smooth as you guide the audience through the ceremony, and each time you step offstage you feel the adrenaline settle into your bones like a soft hum, the backstage crew moving around you with practiced precision, the sound of applause rising and falling like a heartbeat behind the curtains, and you take a moment to breathe, to center yourself, to remind yourself that you are here to work even though your heart keeps drifting toward him like a compass that cannot help but point north.
when it is time for you to present the next award, you step back into the lights with a smile that feels natural and warm, the audience greeting you with another wave of applause, and you read the nominees with clear, confident rhythm before opening the envelope with a practiced flourish, your voice lifting as you announce the winner, the crowd erupting as the popular male artist makes his way toward the stage with a bright grin and an energy that fills the room, his excitement contagious as he climbs the steps and approaches you with open arms.
you expect a handshake or a quick hug, something simple and professional, but instead he leans in with a warm smile and presses a friendly kiss to your cheek, his hand resting lightly on your arm as he murmurs his thanks for your support on the charity project you worked on together, and you feel your breath catch in surprise as the audience reacts with soft laughter and applause, your cheeks warming as you laugh awkwardly and try to keep your composure, reminding yourself that it is harmless, that it is friendly, that it is nothing more than a gesture of appreciation in front of a room full of people.
you step aside to give him space for his acceptance speech, your smile polite and steady even though your mind is still catching up with the unexpected moment, and as the lights shift to focus on him you let your gaze drift toward the audience again, searching instinctively for the one face that matters most, and when you find him your breath catches because michael isn’t just tense, he’s wound so tightly he looks like he might snap if anyone so much as brushes against him. his jaw isn’t only clenched, it’s locked, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as if he’s fighting every instinct in his body not to get up and drag you off that stage, his eyes don’t just stay on you, they burn into you, dark and sharp and unblinking that sends a shiver down your spine as his fingers curl harder against his knee, knuckles whitening, breath tightening in his chest.
he tries to hide it, he really does, but you know him too well, you know the way his emotions flicker beneath the surface like sparks waiting to catch fire, and you can see the jealousy simmering in the tightness of his shoulders, the way he shifts in his seat as if trying to shake off the image of another man’s lips on your cheek, the way his gaze keeps darting between you and the artist onstage as if replaying the moment over and over in his mind, each repetition tightening something inside him until he looks like he might burst from the pressure alone.
the artist continues his speech, completely unaware of the storm brewing in michael’s chest, thanking his team and the fans and the people who supported the charity project, his voice warm and enthusiastic as the audience applauds again, and you keep your expression calm even though you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off him, thick and hot, filling the space between you even from across the room. it’s in the way he won’t blink, the way his lips press into a thin line, the way his foot taps once, twice, three times before he forces it still. he’s trying to stay composed for the cameras, for the crowd, for the moment, but his eyes give him away completely. they’re dark with something possessive, something wounded, something that says he didn’t expect to see another man’s mouth anywhere near you tonight.
when the segment ends and you walk offstage, your heart is still fluttering from the intensity of his stare, your mind replaying the moment in the same way you know he is, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway you press a hand to your cheek where the kiss landed, not because it meant anything but because you know it meant something to him, and the thought alone makes your chest tighten with a mix of affection and worry as you wait for the next cue, the distant sound of applause echoing through the walls like a reminder that the night is far from over.
you lean against the backstage wall for a moment, letting the cool surface steady you as you go over your next lines, your voice soft as you rehearse under your breath, and even though you are alone for now you can still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin, a silent promise that the night will only grow more intense from here, and you close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the charged air of the grammy awards, knowing that the real storm has only just begun.
you stay backstage for a few minutes after your last presentation, letting the noise of the audience settle into a distant hum as you breathe in the dim hallway, the soft glow of the backstage bulbs warming your skin while you rehearse your next lines under your breath, your voice low and steady as you try to shake off the lingering awkwardness from earlier, your fingers brushing your cheek again even though you keep telling yourself it was nothing, just a friendly gesture, just a moment that should not matter, yet you can still feel the ghost of michael’s stare like a hand closing around your ribs, tightening with every breath you take.
the stage manager calls your name again and you straighten your shoulders, smoothing your gown as you step toward the curtain, your heart beating a little faster because this category is bigger, heavier, more important, and you want to deliver it perfectly, especially knowing he is out there somewhere watching you with that quiet intensity that always makes your pulse skip, and as you step into the lights again the applause rises like a warm tide, the golden glow washing over you as you smile at the audience with practiced grace.
you hold the microphone with both hands, grounding yourself in the familiar weight of it as you begin to speak, your voice steady and warm as you welcome the audience back from the short break, the cameras gliding across the room like silent birds while the crowd settles into their seats, and you let your gaze sweep gently across the front rows, your eyes catching the faint outline of his silhouette again, the soft shimmer of his jacket, the stillness of his posture that tells you he has not relaxed since the moment he saw that kiss.
you inhale slowly, letting the moment settle before you continue, your voice carrying clearly through the auditorium. "it is my honor to present one of the most meaningful categories of the night, a category that celebrates the power of music to move us, to unite us, and to change the world. these are the nominees for song of the year." the screens behind you light up with clips and audio, the audience reacting with soft murmurs and applause as each nominee appears, and you stand poised and elegant, your heart thudding quietly beneath your ribs as you hold the envelope in your hand.
when the final nominee fades and the applause settles, you open the envelope with careful precision, your breath catching for a moment as you read the name printed inside, and you lift your gaze to the audience with a soft smile that feels both warm and electric. "and the grammy for song of the year goes to… we are the world, michael jackson and lionel richie."
the room erupts into applause, cheers rising like a wave that shakes the floor beneath your feet, and you look toward the aisle where he stands, his expression unreadable for a moment as he rises from his seat, but then his eyes lock onto yours and everything inside you stills because he is not looking at the audience, he is not looking at the cameras, he is not even looking at the stage itself, he is looking only at you, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he begins to walk toward you with a new calmness that feels too controlled, too deliberate, like a storm holding itself together by sheer force of will, and beside him lionel richie rises as well, moving with him up the aisle like it’s the most natural thing in the world, smiling at the crowd but clearly aware of where this is going, and as they reach the steps lionel goes first, pulling you into a warm, effortless side hug that makes you laugh softly through the shock of it all, his hand patting your shoulder in genuine pride as he murmurs something you barely catch before he steps back with an approving grin.
you swallow hard as he moves toward you, each step drawing the world in tighter until everything else fades into a soft blur. your fingers clamp around the envelope, the paper bending under the tension, but his eyes stay fixed on yours with a steady focus that makes the crowd feel distant and unimportant. the air seems to shift as he gets closer, warm and dense, settling over your skin like something quietly electric.
when he reaches you, he slips an arm around your waist with a certainty that steals your breath. his touch isn’t forceful, just sure, like he’s anchoring you in place without needing to say a word. he looks down at you with his head tilted slightly to the side, studying you with a softness that makes your chest tighten. his teeth catch lightly on his lower lip, a small, unguarded gesture that gives away how much this moment matters to him. and even through all that tenderness, you can still sense the jealousy flickering in his eyes, a faint shadow beneath the warmth. it is not harsh or angry, just a quiet ache he cannot hide, something that tightens his hold on your waist for a heartbeat. his hand squeezes gently, not enough to hurt, just enough to let you feel the emotion he is trying so hard to keep contained.
then he leans in and kisses you.
not a quick peck, not a shy brush of lips, but a soft, sure, deliberate kiss that melts the entire room into silence for a heartbeat before the audience explodes into gasps and cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a tidal wave as your eyes flutter shut for a moment, your heart racing wildly as his lips linger just long enough to make it clear that this is not a mistake, not a slip, not a friendly gesture, but a declaration, a reveal, a claim spoken without words in front of the entire music industry.
when he pulls back, he gives you a small, playful wink that makes your stomach flip, his hand brushing your waist one last time before he turns to accept the award from you, his fingers brushing yours with a warmth as he takes the grammy into his hands, the crowd still roaring with excitement as he steps toward the microphone with that soft, shy smile that always makes people melt.
he waits for the applause to settle, his posture relaxed but his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds with a quiet possessiveness that only you can read, and when he finally speaks his voice is gentle, warm, and full of gratitude. "thank you, thank you so much." he pauses as the applause rises again, his smile widening before he continues. "i want to thank lionel, first of all, for being such an incredible partner in creating this song. he is a true friend and a true artist, and i am so grateful for everything we were able to do together."
he shifts the award in his hands, his voice softening with sincerity. "i want to thank every artist who came together for this project, everyone who gave their time and their hearts to something bigger than all of us. this song was made with love, with hope, and with the belief that we can make the world a better place when we stand together."
the audience applauds again, "and of course, i want to thank the fans, because none of this would be possible without your love and your support. you inspire me every single day, and i am so grateful for you."
he pauses, his smile turning a little mischievous, his eyes sliding toward you again with a glimmer that makes your breath catch. "and, um… i guess i should also say…" he lifts the grammy slightly, his tone light but unmistakably pointed. "some people should be a little more careful about kissing another man's lady."
the audience bursts into laughter, cheers rising as people clap and whistle, the cameras catching your face as your cheeks burn with embarrassment and surprise, your hand lifting instinctively to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh, and michael just smiles, that soft, cheeky smile that tells you he knows exactly what he is doing, exactly how flustered he is making you, and he is enjoying every second of it.
he finishes with a warm, humble thank you before stepping away from the microphone, and as he walks back toward you he gives you another small wink, his fingers brushing your waist again as he passes, the touch subtle but full of meaning, and you feel your heart flutter helplessly as he heads back down the steps, the audience still buzzing with excitement from the unexpected reveal.
you stand there for a moment, trying to steady your breathing as the cameras cut away and the stage manager ushers you offstage, your mind spinning, your cheeks still warm, your heart pounding with a mix of shock and affection and something deeper, something that feels like it has been waiting to surface for a long time, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway again you know he will find you soon, and you know the conversation waiting between you will be one you will never forget.
the hallway feels calmer than the stage, dimmer and softer, the noise of the grammy crowd fading into a distant echo as you step into the quiet. you’re still warm from the lights, still breathless from everything that happened, your mind replaying the moment he kissed you in front of everyone like a scene you can’t quite believe is real. you press your hand lightly to your lips, trying to steady yourself, when you hear him behind you, his footsteps slow and sure, carrying that familiar mix of confidence and emotion that always gives him away.
when you turn, he’s already watching you, his grammy tucked under one arm, his shoulders relaxed but his eyes still burning with that jealousy he hasn’t shaken off yet. he walks toward you with a softness that contradicts the storm you know is still swirling inside him, and when he reaches you he stops close enough that you can feel the warmth of him settle around you like a blanket. his voice is gentle when he speaks, even though his eyes are still sharp with emotion. "you okay baby?" he asks quietly, his hand brushing your arm in a way that makes your breath catch. "i didn’t mean to overwhelm you out there."
you nod, though your heart is still racing, and he studies your face for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort. when he finds none, his expression shifts, softening into something warm but edged with that quiet, simmering jealousy he’s trying so hard to keep under control. "i just… i couldn’t sit there and watch that," he murmurs, "him kissin' you like that. i know it was friendly, i know it didn’t mean anything, but it still…" he trails off, shaking his head slightly, his jaw tightening for a moment before he exhales slowly. "it still bothered me."
you whisper his name softly, and he gives a small smile, one that’s both apologetic and a little proud, like he knows he’s being ridiculous but he also knows he’d do it all again. "i’m not gonna pretend i wasn’t jealous," he says, his voice low and honest. "i was. i still am." he leans in a little, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "but i’m glad everyone knows now. i’m glad they know who my woman is... the woman i get to love."
your cheeks warm instantly, and he notices, his smile turning a little smug but still gentle, still full of affection. "guess i made the night a little more interesting." he adds, his tone playful but certain. lifting the grammy slightly, his eyes glimmering with pride.
you roll your eyes at him, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his expression softening again as he cups your jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. "you did amazing tonight," he whispers. "i’m so proud of you."
you tell him you’re proud of him too, and his smile grows, warm and bright, the kind of smile that lights up his whole face. he glances down at the grammy in his hand, then back at you, and the warmth in his eyes deepens. "i got my award," he says softly. "and i got you. that’s all i wanted tonight."
he leans in closer, his voice dropping into something playful, something that makes your stomach twist. "c’mon," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "let’s go home so i can show you how jealous i was."
your eyes widen and you slap his chest lightly, your voice a shocked whisper. "michael!" he laughs softly, the sound warm and sweet, his shoulders shaking just a little as he catches your hand gently, his fingers curling around yours with an ease that makes your heart flutter.
"i’m teasing," he says, though the sparkle in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying every second of your reaction. "but i do wanna get you out of here."
you’re still flustered, still warm, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his own smile stretching wider as he gives your hand a gentle tug. he leads you down the hallway toward the exit, his grammy tucked under his arm, his fingers laced with yours like he’s never letting go. when he pushes open the door to the cool night air, the limo waiting just outside, he glances back at you with a look so full of pride and happiness it makes your chest swell.
he’s got his grammy.
he’s got his girl.
and he looks like he’s floating.
you squeeze his hand, your smile soft and full, and he squeezes back, his voice low and warm as he whispers, "let’s go home."
hey dolls 🌸 just wanted to say sorry if my recent fics haven't been my best. i've been dealing with some personal stuff lately and it's been making it really hard to find motivation to write, and i've also recently started therapy, so i've been trying to focus on myself a little more. i know i probably shouldn't be sharing this, and this is honestly a little embarrassing to admit lol, but i don't have friends to talk to about this stuff, and you guys honestly feel like friends to me, so i wanted to be honest about why some of my writing might feel a little shit. i also feel really guilty about the requests that have been sitting in my inbox for months now, and i'm genuinely so sorry to everyone who's been waiting. thank you for still reading my stuff and supporting me, it genuinely means so much. i still really wanna write and make things you guys enjoy, even when i'm struggling. requests are still open btw !! feel free to send them in <3 i love you all !!
michael arrives home from a demanding music video filming day and enters absolutely fatigued, wanting nothing but to kiss you all over, however, placing you on his lap as he did so affected him more than he thought.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 18+ mdni
7.3k ﹒ thriller michael ᱒ 𝒻.rea CONTAINS ﹒ ( smut w little plot ) softdom!mj ( i think.. ), established relationship, oral ( m&f ) munch mikey >⁄ ⁄ < crying, dry humping, riding, spit as lube, stomach bulge, insecurities, no use of y/n, unprotected ( wrap your willy! dont be silly! ) creampie, aftercare
your home, once scented tobacco, smells of musk and skin when michael enters sapped, and from afar, bleary.
the click of the door lock pulls your attention from the tv to his beat face, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead and back, clinging to his white tee, creating transparent patches and the faithful impression of how weary he is.
you grab onto the back of the couch as you twist your torso to earn a better view, and at that moment, his tired gaze makes its way to you.
previously half-lidded, his eyes ever so slightly widen at the sight of you clad in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, because in all sincerity: you didn’t expect him to arrive home so early. it’s usually early mornings to past midnight with michael's schedules, yet it’s only 8 pm.
rising to your feet, your brows crease in worry as he walks over to the couch. “baby,” you breathe, hands reaching out to help him. as he moves closer, his panting grows more evident as well as the scent of sweat and the faint smell of his lingering perfume. only then did your nose take in the scent. “what—”
he nears and takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together and gently squeezing as he collapses himself onto the plush cushions and pillows of the couch, pulling you down with him, though with a lighter landing.
a content sigh escapes him as if he only just revived his memory to breathe. leaning closer, you can hear faint sounds of him panting through his headache; the way it catches in his throat and he has to swallow to breathe properly again; one breath being light, and the other grows heavy to then heavy again and so on; the way he expels a low moan during lighter exhales.
his previously stiffened body finally releases the tension he’s been unknowingly holding all day. he finds comfort in the bolsters of the couch, the welcoming warmth of his home, the quiet dialogue from the television, and most importantly, the presence of you. heck, his head was pounding in his skull before he even came through the door, however, now the first wave of ease washes over his head for the first time in hours as he feels his heartbeat slowing in his chest.
picking himself up, he lays his hands on the cushions, one balled into a fist, and pushes himself toward you. it happened so fast. his head lowers as his fist spreads to hold onto your waist, his other hand reaching for the back of your neck, something you can’t feel until his thumb begins to trace circles against your nape. glancing down, the hand gripping your waist trembles as he caresses your side. he buries his head into the crook of your neck.
“baby, ‘m so tired,” michael sighs into your skin as you feel his sweat adhere to you. his breath is hot against your neck, and you shudder as you try to strain a sentence out of your newly stubborn throat.
“i couldn't tell,” you somehow manage, voice seeping through quivering at first before you could find your poise as you give a languid nod. he lets out a pfft with a laugh despite his exhaustion, still able to muster up strength to laugh with you, and a smile tugs on your lips.
and then you feel it. though it’s feather light, he presses a kiss to your neck. and another. as though it were instinct, your hand makes its way to his curls, lightly scratching at the back of his scalp as his hands twitch from the touch. as they pile up, a giggle bubbles from your throat. “mike—”
“shh,” he chuckles sluggishly, grinning against your skin, “i wanna kiss you.” he intervenes with another kiss, humming into your neck. a hot flush you can’t swallow overwhelms your cheeks as it spreads down to your neck with a shudder, seeking to pass it off as merely tepidity radiating from michael—as if that makes the spin of your mind any better.
you don’t know why this feels different.
your eyes narrow as you gander down and scan his face. his cheeks have grown a little rosy—you’re unsure whether it’s from his exhaustion or if he even walked in with that tint on him at all. his styled edges are visibly a bit soaked from his sweat, regarding the droplets of it, and a faint grin sneaking itself through his kisses, yet the only thing distracting you is how his lips feel on your skin.
they aren’t even on your mouth, you shouldn’t be so affected by it.
and yet, to make it worse, he starts to suck crudely along your neck, a wave of heat hitting your body with embarrassing haste, and your eyes inadvertently shut. your fingers twine with his curls once more, yet this time, it seems as though he tries to stifle something like a groan—something you feel you shouldn’t have caught. the action heedlessly pushes him closer, and he doesn’t pass his chance to mark the rest of your skin accessible to him, kissing you almost ardently, like he got excited from the new reach. your stomach churns.
despite it, you bat your eyes back open. the awareness of how eager he came to be hits him, and with a flush to his cheeks, he reluctantly slows his kisses, suckling gently on your neck, and he splays his quivering hand on your nape. that's when you feel your lungs still, and you belatedly call attention for yourself to take a breath.
michael tightens his grip on your waist, the hand to your nape sliding down to hold your hip with waiting intention unbeknownst to you. his hands snake around your stomach and make their way around your waist until his arms are full of you, so unsought that your gaze instantaneously travels down to his arms around you, and looking back, it leads to your eyes searching him again.
a blemish near his cheekbone, a sweet, lasting mark from his bygone acne as your interest flickers to the tip of his nose retreating with each tender kiss. he tilts his head and settles into the backrest, every so often altering with each new area he covers just to rest back there again; as he does so, the dim light from the television grazes over his skin, and though brisk, you catch sight of the excess beads of sweat sitting on his forehead.
firmly, with his strikingly risqué hold on your waist, he hoists you onto his lap, an almost inaudible gasp leaving your mouth—a sound his ear giddily perks at.
michael lets a low simper make off at your hand in his hair wincing before harking back to your side and onto his wrist, a fleet sound that wriggles its way into your spine and down to your lower back, your stomach stirring anew.
it should’ve been cute; you assume it oughta, but as he digs his face back into your neck and litters wet kisses against your skin, the air around grows someway bawdier than it already was.
his self restraint is unmistakable. he's trying to save his kisses gentle, you can feel it, and yet, his efforts prove in vain as he drifts further from what little control he has in his allegedly tired body. his tongue grazes your skin between a kiss, and michael feels you shudder in his hold.
the television is practically inaudible now—twofold when you’re so drawn to each wet noise he makes when he stops sucking on your skin, and every soft sound that escapes his lips when he leaves another kiss on you.
you can smell him—the faint damp and tangy scent from his sudor, the smell of the vanillas in his shampoo laying just underneath, the airy amber from his perfume, and the raw, musky moisture from his skin that for whatever reason, affects you drastically as your thighs clamp together before you can even have a say in your actions.
michael's heart is hammering against his ribcage. he feels heat bleeding into his cheeks, and as a way to ground himself, he gives a light squeeze to your hip every few kisses, and spoilers, it’s forlorn.
he can't keep ignoring this forever. he needs you so, so madly right now, and the tension in the room only coils in his stomach and bullies his composure (which is something he’s surprised he even has at the moment).
and then it slips.
it starts when his lips caress your earlobe, lightly nipping it with his teeth, and he stops for a heartbeat too slow. his breath stutters in your ear, airy and hot with desire.
and suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact you’re merely wearing panties when a pool of heat reaches your lower back.
he presses his lips together, a little wet from his own saliva, and tries to stabilise his breathing (to no avail). he moves down, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses near your nape, then the dip of your neck, to near your collarbone, until abruptly, he finds the sensitive bit of skin on you, to which you suck in a breath and curl your lips inwards as a sound begged to be let out of your throat. as his teeth nip the area, it prompts your head to tilt averse onto the back of the couch, and michael grows dizzy with pure want.
his hands seep their way into your shirt and caress your sides as he drags his lips, teeth grazing your skin as his breath sends another wave of heat through you.
it was so sudden. both of you didn’t pre-empt it, and it shows when he rolls his hips into you, and a mewl knocks itself out of your throat as michael lets out an audible gasp.
“baby—baby, i'm so sorry. is… is this okay?” his words are strangled as he pulls away from your neck, lips parted. turning your head, your eyes meet his.
they’re wide and hazed, laced with need. his brows are high and drawn together as his last effort to hold back.
and with that, you cracked.
your lips crash onto his, hot and messy, hips grinding against the growing bulge in his slacks as you do so, and michael groans into your mouth. almost immediately, his hands grasp back onto your waist to spin you around, breaking the kiss before settling you onto his lap again, a choked moan leaving his lips at the contact, pressing his lips back on yours as he tilts his head.
painfully, you haul yourself along the thick ridge of his tent, a moan leaving your mouth to which michael eagerly swallows. he pulls away to catch his breath.
he pants lightly against your lips with hooded eyes, yet he can’t manage to keep them off you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and peppering more down to your jaw, lips wet from you.
you rock down on him, the friction so delicious, yet not enough to satiate. his head promptly drops, forehead sticking to the side of your neck a whimper spills from him, trickling with hunger, and he’s not trying to hide it, either.
his lips find their way back to yours, pure, full-blown desire woven into it as you feel your panties soaking, clenching around nothing, and likely leaving a wet patch on michael's pants.
“mikey, please,” your voice comes wrecked as you force yourself away from him just enough for you to speak, and the sound of you begging alone gets a groan out of him.
he rubs up against you, lightly nipping your bottom lip as an unstable gasp shakes out of you. “yes, pretty?” his words hit firm and teasing, a smile creeping onto his face, one hand sliding from your waist to your thigh, gently squeezing your skin to egg you on.
“need you…” you gulp back a gasp, running words through your head, nitpicking ones you find too vulgar or dirty and scrambling them in frantic obscurity, “make love to me, pl-ease,” you finish meekly. your hands grab onto his shoulders, dipping your head down gingerly in a flustered haze, primarily because you have never done this with him, let alone said such a thing, and the tremble of his hands on you says so much with so little. he connects your lips again, nodding into it as a sign of approval.
his shaky hands move to the backs of your upper thighs, keeping a strong grip as he warily lifts you up. by instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as your arms did around his neck, and he grins into the kiss.
he brings you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and coming to a halt when his knees hit the mattress, settling you down onto the sheets as if you were a delicacy.
michael wastes no time in peppering kisses down your body—your jaw, neck, your collarbones for a moment too long before moving to your inner thighs.
your panties are so embarrassingly damp from your arousal, and his bottom lip quivers as his breath hitches from the mere sight of you soaked.
he leaves a burning, wet trail of kisses up your thigh up until he feels a hand in his hair, upping his head to avert his attention to you. and suddenly, his eyes slightly widen as he grows meek at his actions, a red tint bleeding up to the tips of his ears.
almost instantly, you clamp your thighs together. “w-wait,” you squeak, and your mouth goes dry. never in your life have you felt more self-conscious, and even more when you feel as though you’ve fissured the moment. humiliation bounds around your muscles and renders you stiff.
the cognisance roots itself into his skin in prickles. his eyes change into something gentler, his brows fleetly lifting before pressing together lightly. he scans your face, looking for an ounce of jest in your expression, because frankly, he can’t wrap his head around how the woman he loves most, the woman who is so incredibly perfect in his eyes, could be thinking negatively about herself. and yet, he finds none.
hand leisurely settling on your thigh, he caresses your skin so tenderly it almost burns, radiating into your chest and down to your core. “mama, you’re so perfect,” he coos, and there’s nothing but pure sincerity dowsed in his voice, your cheeks growing so hot you think he can see it. “i hope you see yourself as i see you. i'll make you feel so, so right, just—please… let me please you. i want to feel like i deserve you, let me—just,” his breath trembles, voice breaking just slightly, so devoutly and longingly you could only take a pause.
and then he glances up.
his eyes glimmer and practically pleads, brows creasing up, and so incredibly desirous it messes with your head. you take your bottom lip amidst your teeth.
barely through your nod, michael's eyes go wide and pries your legs back open, diving down between them and sweetly kissing your inner thighs as a finger twirls around the cotton of the only thing keeping your pretty pussy away from him. the shudder of your breath only urges him further, only cutting short when he reaches too closely, taking another glimpse of you to make certain it’s alright.
rather than a nod, or even a simple yes, he receives your hands tangling themselves in his hair, and that’s all the confirmation he needs.
he slides off your panties almost frantically, precariously pulling ‘til they fall neatly on the hardwood of the floor, raising your leg over his shoulder as the other locks your leg down in a meek, yet firm grip. michael revels in the sight of you all soaked for him so pretty, tentatively staring before a slight tug of his hair spurs him on, shyly dropping his head between your thighs.
he leaves a soft kiss to you, something experimental as his hot breath fans your cunt, fingertips digging into the back of your knee more so for himself. and without thinking, he licks a long, tantalising stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and your mouth gapes, slipping a whimper from your throat. “m-mikey, th-that feels so good—” you scarcely manage, words jumbling in your head as you struggle to make them coherent.
your flavour on his tastebuds intoxicate him and cloud his mind, nose bumping against your bud and savouring your taste as he licks up greedily, humming against you, inducing a choked noise out of your mouth. wrapping his lips around your clit, you pull on his hair with a whine.
“you sound so pretty.” he smiles into your cunt as his tongue probes you. “taste s’sweet—” he cuts himself off like he can’t keep away from your taste for long, hungrily burying himself back into you and swirling his tongue around your clit.
it doesn’t take long for his narrowly reserved pace to speed up as he eats you like he’s been starved of this for far too long, moans muffling against you as your body jolts at the pleasure. his tongue pushes past your folds, messily fucking you with his tongue, barely acknowledging the saliva running down his chin. every little sound of his vibrates up your spine, mewling at each one.
generously, your juices coat his lips and the surrounding skin, legs almost buckling if not for his hold on you. your breath catches in your throat before you choke out a cry of his name, and his ears instantly perk.
he craves to hear it again.
without thought, or even with him regarding it, he brings two digits to you and buries them in the warmth of your cunt, a sob almost immediately ripping through your throat. he laps at you as if it’s the only thing he knows how, nose harshly pushing your clit upward before giving it a suck again.
all he can think about is you—your smell suffocating him so sweetly, your essence all over his face, how responsive you are, all of it driving further and fogging his head. you have not the slightest clue of what you do to him. he wants so badly for you to fall apart right on his tongue, and he’s gonna have it. his tongue enters you again, and you can feel how it drives deeper and deeper, walls fluttering around his muscle as he relishes in your aroma and taste as he loses himself further in you. lewd, filthy noises of him slurping stills in the air, your pants and moans drowning it as your back arches off the mattress, his hand travelling under your thighs to hold your hips down, and your leg instantly closes around his head, only pushing him deeper as his groan hits right to your clit.
his fingers curl inside you again, his eyebrows drawn taut with immersion, eliciting a strangled mix of a whine and a sob from your mouth, quietly gasping reiterates of his name. “baby,” he muffles, refusing to stray from your taste, “wan’ hear you…”
a vulgar string of drawn-out whimpers fall from your lips before his name slips again in a loud moan, squeezing at your hip as he groans in pure satisfaction, pumping his fingers increasingly hastier, the squelch of your walls hitting his ears so obscene he begins to rock against the mattress.
“mikey—please, mh, i think i’m g-gonna…” you barely shove the words out of your mouth as you pant out, legs shaking around his head, waves of pleasure threatening to crash over you with each waking second.
you didn’t have to forewarn him in the slightest. not when he can taste and feel you so undeniably in his mouth—how the band of your lower tummy tightens as your walls succeed, back fighting to arch off the bed, nails digging into his scalp and tugging on his curls.
“i know, pretty… let go f’me, please, baby. need to taste you—mm, wan’ try something,” he mutters breathlessly, pulling away fleetly to take his digits out of you, tentatively pressing his thumb down on your clit as you writhe at the sensation, ecstacy overwhelming your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body, and michael is quick to attach his mouth back on you to lap at your juices.
“mmpfh—mh, taste as good as y’sound—oh,” he moans as he completely engulfs himself into your taste, thumb beginning to lazily draw circles on your bundle of nerves as his tongue plunges into you as if you’re the only thing that’ll quench his perennial thirst, and you pull at his hair, eliciting an elated sound from him.
“t-too much!” you cry, voice increasing in pitch as your trembling legs unwillingly wrap him into you nearer, contrasting as you wholly try to push him away.
withdrawing himself from you pains him more than he can feel.
but when he does, his eyes meet yours, pupils dilated and swallowing the brown of his iris, and with a brief glance down, his lips gleam in the dim light, drenched in you, chin dripping with your arousal, the sight immediately rushing heat up your neck and into your cheeks.
then his eyes flash with guilt. “baby,” he says, voice is trickling with urgency as his tongue darts out to taste yourself on his lips, still covetous even as he apologises, “i’m so sorry, pretty, i should’ve stopped—‘m sorry, are you okay?” his large hand caresses your quivering inner thigh and kneads the skin there, free hand finding perch on the plush of the bed next to your other thigh, propping himself up as the mattress dips with the weight of his knee. his other knee settles beside your hip, the hand that assisted him in climbing on the bed landing on the sheets behind you, his disparate hand never halting motion on your skin.
michael’s eyes flicker between yours, big and hazy, glutted with concern as though he’d done something unable to be pardoned. you can only scoff, the tip of your index tracing his jaw without a thought, and you take in the sight of his eyes briefly splaying as your finger wipes your arousal off his jaw. his breath stutters once you reach his chin, flicking your finger off and cupping his cheek as fast as you jerked your finger, gently coaxing him in before your lips meet again in a tender kiss.
he melts into it instantly, the hand rubbing your thigh flying to hold the small of your back. drawing averse, he pants as he murmurs a hot string of babbles of how he adores your taste, a breath-width away from your lips before he delves back, pushing his tongue in your mouth to help you taste your flavour. “y’taste like a dream,” he sighs into your mouth, smiling against your lips with gratitude more than anything. the flavour of your essence mingled with michael’s own taste is enough to take a precedent swelling moan out of you and into his ears, to which he drinks with the same indebtedness.
heedlessly sliding your heel toward you, your knee lifts and catches itself when it makes the slightest contact with the aching tent in michael’s slacks he’d been desperately trying to disregard, a whimper leaving him as quick as his head dips in the crook of your neck, hand holding back from squeezing your skin in a fit of self-restraint. he’d been holding back. “mike,” you mutter just loud enough to reach his ears as he barely manages to lift his head, eyes locking to yours with a critical aching need consumed in his gaze—something you can’t bear to pay no heed to. “let me take you.”
who are you not to repay him?
your words come sheepish, timid, yet to him it hits with a newfangled ripple of unadulterated need searing ardently through his veins. you gesture to the edge of the bed with a tilt of your chin. he knows better than to ask how despite his struggle to credit the prospect of you taking him in any of the perverted ways that is on his mind. he heaves himself away from you. jointly, you find your way to the contrasting cold of the floorboards from the warmth of his sheets. the cold almost instantly dissipates under the contact of your knees as michael seats himself on the outskirt of the mattress with untrained eyes indulging in how your eyes look under the dim light as your attention flickers to his trousers.
and a rush of deep red amasses into his cheeks, mouth parted, yet producing no sound as he catches his breath at the fleeting recognition. “oh—wait,” he says, his usual soft tone welling with uncertainty as well as a faint, almost eager undercurrent—which he can’t veil when your eyes find their way to his once more.
“i can’t…” he takes a deep swallow, “no, i can’t let you do that, pretty, you shouldn’t be down there doin’ somethin’ like… that,” he speaks already as though he floundered to make something articulate.
“you’ve helped me, haven't you? can’t i do the same?”
he stammers as his head tries to conjure a valid reason against yours. “let me, baby.” your hand taps his knee, a smile playing at his lips like it always does when you call him that, yet an unfamiliar, almost heated shiver wriggles up his spine at the tap of your finger. “i want to.”
his dire need garners and gluts his senses as the allure of your glim unwavering causes his reason to fail him, both mingling into something he’s impotent to reject. he parts his lips, though not without reluctance. “you’re sure?” he asks, however, by this time, your leisure taps move into full-on caresses, and his limbs draw themselves tense. and before you could answer, your unplanned touch ignites a feeling that travels through his veins with haste. “ah- ah, it’s… why is it— why does… okay, okay,” he qualms as the emergent bulge beneath his pants begins to sore like he’s never felt before, his lower abdomen burning. is it supposed to feel like this? he didn’t know it could get this bad, and embarrassment seeps through his bones.
with his wince and agreement, briskly, you tug on his pants as he lifts himself from the sheets so you can slide them off, the fabric leaving his skin also leaving a fire with them as ardour hums everywhere in his body. and as your hands make contact with the waistband of his underwear, an unmistakable wet patch that formed a while ago from his generous amount of precum visible to you, his mind, as well as his heart, racing.
his hands aviate to cover his face when you free him from the confinements of his briefs. as soon as the cold air hits him, his mind races a slew of protests.
you’re too pretty to be down there. this is so dirty. on your knees is so, so dirty—as if he didn’t just eat you out and would do it for hours if you just let him. what if you think it’s… i dunno, ugly? you shouldn’t be doin’ something like this. he shouldn’t have accepted, but how could he not when desire settles and rattles his bones? the words weigh on his tongue until he can’t carry it any longer, lips parting to give way to his protest.
with such tenderness his heart aches, your plush lips wrap around his mauve tip, previously coated in precum with now your saliva, and the words lodge in his throat almost violently as a hearty wail ousts it. your eyes flick up just in time to view the hands shielding his face trembling and moving down, revealing his crimson-painted cheeks with his brows creased and oh, what a sight it is. his hands descend to steal a glimpse of your mouth around his length, and from the mere gander, a whimper slips his throat.
you have never thought of such about him when you finally viewed him. tip slick with so much precum, the mere sight already soaking you again, veins running prettily along his length. if he’d been looking at you earlier, he’d see the way you were gaping him with such awe. as if he couldn’t get any more perfect, this sure solidified it.
you give him initially shy kitten licks on his tip, whimpers already spilling out of his mouth before you start lapping, savouring the taste of his leaking slit before moving down—though not without taking a hefty inhale first—his big hands finding purchase in your locks.
the sight is so filthy to see. how you meld to him, engulfing his dick and letting him feel the warmth of your mouth, dim light shimmering in the shade of tears stilling in your waterline. his hands twine themselves in your hair and gently tugs as your hands wrap around the area you can’t reach with solely your mouth. lifting your head up and off of him, your tongue traces along his prominent vein, applying pressure with which his head starts to swirl at as his hips jerk without his say. he’s grateful he didn’t do that while he was in your mouth—until it happens.
your lips envelop him, bringing him back into the warmth of your mouth, swallowing him as your hand experimentally squeezes his base. before you could ask if that felt okay, his hips thrust up into your mouth again, and he’s immediately spewing apologies. he loves it so much, and you’ll do it again if it means eliciting that mewl out of him again. you pull yourself up from him with a pop, hands working his shaft to replace the absence of your mouth.
“i didn’t mean to… oh, ‘m s’sorry,” his words slur as your hand unwavers, and he’s sneaking his bottom lip between his teeth as you finding leverage on his shirt, yanking him toward you and colliding your lips together in a hot, muddled kiss, interjecting his effort to suppress the noises slipping from his lips so he could speak. his slick on your tongue transferring to his tastebuds spins his mind as a hand to your hair moves to your cheek.
your arm wraps around his neck, hand tugging on his shirt as he sets out a whimper to your mouth before complying, breaking off the kiss so he can lift his shirt up and over his head only to reattach your lips to his just as quickly as he hurls the fabric to who-knows-where in the room. you break it off once more. “stop apologizing,” you whisper, squeezing as you pump him, thumb rubbing along his prominent vein glossed in your spit, and a cry tears through him as he pulls himself back with his hands tangling in your hair again. licking a long stripe, your hands settle back near his base anew before you have him back in your mouth, unconsciously humming against him as vibrations shoot up his spine expels itself as a moan.
“th-that… that feels weird, mgh, do it again… please,” he mutters breathlessly. your cheeks hollow, and his head throws back as his oozing tip brushes the hind of your throat, his bottom lip quivering when you bob your earnestly. oh, you look perfect like this—hair tussled from his tugs, lips moulded to his shaft, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed a rosy tint, peeking through your eyelashes to glance at his expression, eyes falling to his abs coated in a light sheen of sweat before shutting your eyes again—something he doesn’t fail to miss.
“y-you have such a pretty mouth—ah, feels so—” he blabs, cut short by his own whimper. his hips stutter at the feel of you rotating your wrist, one hand moving down from your scalp to caress your cheek, tracing along your jaw with gentle, yet jagged lines as he strains to keep his head steady. as his tip hits the back of your throat once more, you ardently fight your gag reflex, throat tightening around him as he fills with concern. “can you—ngh,” he cries, “breathe? o-oh, baby—” his hand draws taut in your hair, and when you peek up, tears are stinging his waterline. “baby, please,” he pleads, voice cracking, “i can’t… i don’t wanna c-cum like this,” he divulges, gripping the sheets with his hand formerly on your cheek with a firm hold.
michael’s arm, placed precariously behind him with his hand outward and grasping the sheets for poise, collapses as his strength leaves him, his elbow hitting the mattress. and generously, craving to fulfill his desires, you climb on the bed and move to the left of him as he discerns you with impressive haste, pushing himself back so his legs won’t dangle out of the mattress anymore.
propping your knees to either side of him, you hover your sopping cunt above his waiting dick as tenderly, he kneads the side of the small of your back—more so for himself. and when he finally regards what you’re about to do, his object is cut short by his tip prodding your entrance, and your whimpers mingle with the burning aroma of the space.
gradually, sorely, you sink down into him, both of his hands flying to your lower back, nails digging divots into your skin as his cock twitches inside of you, forcing a whine from your throat. he’s filling you up, head falling low as whimpers leave you in strings. your hands head for his shoulders as gently, he brings you in until you embrace, tilting his head and whispering tenderly in your ear. “y’r doin’ so well, ma… jus’ a little— m-ore,” he coos, sighing barely through the latter, unable to mask the garbled moans that escape his mouth.
“o-oh my—mike,” you choke out, shaking with each inch you descend as your grip on his shoulders grow firm, then weak again. his arms tremble as they assist you in falling into him, whining dulcet in your ear as the feeling of being stuffed overwhelms your system before you’re to the hilt. you pant against his chest as he does your head, his hand tracing leisure, consoling circles to your skin.
the moment you finally pull off him, the sweat coating his torso clings to your shirt before you fully asunder. the hold you have on his shoulders linger as you begin to move, his breaths coming ragged and in a medley of bursts and drags. “hoh, you…” he swallows deeply, “y’feel s’ warm, so tight… oh, you’re s’tight—didn’t know it felt like this, oh,” he cries, and when your head lifts, tears are threatening to fall and lacquer a watery line down his cheeks. the sight alone makes you clench down on him, drawing a groan from deep in his chest and sending searing flurries of heat through his veins as you find your rhythm.
his hands work to guide your hips, bucking his up with every pummel he ushers from you, clit brutally bumping against his pelvis with each. his name falls from you, breathy and mingled with his plethora of babbles as your nails bore crescents in his shoulders, your eyelids fluttering shut and back open just to see the blissed out expression adorned on his comely face. his thumb caressing your inner hip falters when you roll your hips on him without his guidance, his hands tightening around you and rocking you down, and with it, a tear that was stilled in his eyes finally founders and leaves a line of salty liquid as it falls, then another—but that one mixes in his sweat. the feeling of your walls suffocating him leaves him delirious, but the notion of you exhausting yourself up there pains him, and oh, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep still. and it doesn’t at all take long for him to act.
his hands grasp stiff and unyielding to your hips, flipping you both and stealing you of your breath as he snaps his hips and rips a lewd sound that lands somewhere between a mewl and a cry from your achy throat. he grabs firm to your shirt and briskly pulls it up and over your head and off to somewhere in the room as swiftly as he had flipped you.
he gapes at you from this newfound angle of being on top of you, and it knocks a strained grunt out of his parted lips as he begins to move. “mikey, w-what—ah! mh, ke-keep going, please…” you sob as his dick drags in your gummied walls, melding each ridge and vein of him into you and stretching you impossibly more than you already have been. eyes ripping from yours, his burning stare is pulled to where you two join, and michael ogles at how his cock continuously buries and disappears into the warmth of your sweet cunt. each thrust forms a frothy ring of his precum and your arousal at his base, his eyes eagerly drinking up the sight before his fixation moves just slightly up.
his pupils blow wide when they land on the swell outline of his dick in your tummy, and from the sight alone he chokes out a strangled moan. “am…” he pants as his hands move near your navel, “am i doin’ that?” he presses lightly on your abdomen as he bucks his hips a tad harsher than intended, and your body quivers, back arching off the sheets as his tip dotingly kisses your cervix, letting his head fall as well as his jaw.
with the shift in your positions, the feverish newfound angle has his cock hitting deep into the sponge tissue of your sex, and your mouth gapes. “th-there! right there, mikey, please…” your whimpers are drowned by the lewd noises of his pelvis slamming against your moist skin as his pace grows relentless at your spur.
all that consumes him is how your hot cunt sucks him in and the filthy squelch that comes with it. his dewy eyes dart between your disheveled face and the curve of his dick bulging from your stomach, and when your walls clamp down on him again, he shuts his eyes, the salty droplets that had settled in the rim of his eyes rolling down his rouge tinted cheeks and falling from his chin. “you’re… y’r squeezin’ me—hoh,” he moans, head reeling as his hands hastily shrithe to envelope your torso, slogging to refrain from collapsing on you as he lowers until you’re wholly flush against his clammy chest. he strains a throaty mix of a huff and a whine against your cheek before smashing his lips onto yours in a searing kiss, his hand caressing your side and leaving heat where it was once placed.
each snap of his hips have him continuously ramming into and abusing the sweet dip in the inlay of your womb. the bedframe gashing the paint off the wall with every rock accompanies the wet plaps of skin slapping skin and the descants of your fused moans—sounds that send tingles through michael’s body—sounds he’s eager to devour. his swollen lips trails wet kisses down to your lower lip, your chin, and to your jaw, and you let your head fall back only for michael to capture your lips in his again, your raised head only deepening the sloppy motions of your mouth against his, and you squirm as you struggle to keep up, for each buck of his hips swirls your head absurdly further.
his head falls into the dip of your neck, panting against your skin, your pussy pulsing around his length as your abdomen twists. “mh, mikey, hoh! ‘m s-sssso close,” you choke, hands clutching at his shoulders and the flesh of his upper arms as you clamp around him, suctioning his girth deliciously as he brings a hand to return to your belly, the pressure from his wring reducing your mind to a haze of nothing but him.
“i-i’m close too, ohmy— oh, wh-where should i… do i do it—” he’s cut short by his own cry and swallow, “inside? wan’ me to pull out?”
you claw at his back, only mustering a frantic shake of your head, holding him firm in place, his large hand once on your belly trembling as he takes a soft hold to your cheek. the rhythmic pace of his thrusts grow sloppy, overbrimming with primal need, to which your sight distorts ‘til you’re convinced the whites clouding your vision are clusters of stars.
the hot coil in your lower abdomen snaps when he fills you to the hilt again, your body falling limp, cunt throbbing around him as ripples of pleasure glut your being, creaming his dick and gushing on the sheets as he helps you ride out your orgasm. michael’s mouth hangs open, slurring a series of moans and incohesive blabs as he soaks in every contortion of your face, the bucking of his hips turning desperate. he buries himself in you wholly when his warm seed spills and earnestly coats your velvety walls in white, filling you so full with his release it shows with a mere glance at your tummy.
the both of you stay like this for a little while—panting against each other’s skin as he stills inside of you, the dripping of cum spilling out your sopping cunt and droplets running down his length eliciting quivers out of you two until he slowly drags his leaking cock out of the warmth of your sex. “are… are you okay?” he breathes before raising his head from the comfort of the curve of your neck, meeting your dazed eyes as his thumb grazes your cheekbone.
his curls cling to the clammy skin of his forehead, eyes hazy and pupils blown wide, lips red and swollen. “mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as a smile adorns his elated face. with one last peck to your lips, he heaves himself up and off the mattress, heading to his restroom and back with a cloth before he settles himself between your aching thighs again. his cheeks flush a deep red upon the sight, shyly swiping the cloth to wipe away the mingled essences of the both of you, and as he progresses closer to your core, your body flinches and some of his seed seeps further out of you, and his teeth tug on his lower lip as he can’t seem to pull his eyes away.
when he finishes up, he plants a tender kiss to your inner thigh. he then waits outside the door of the restroom as you use the toilet a few minutes later. by this time, you two are dressed back up, although hodieral in pyjama attire.
the moment he hears the twist of the doorknob and you swinging the door open, he’s already on you—lips crashing onto yours in a messy, yet gentle kiss as he devours each of your laughs, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he backs you into the bed and sends the both of you collapsing onto the plush pillows.
the final thing you’re able to recall is how his lips travel to your cheek, leaving sweet pecks in between ‘thank you’s before your eyelids give out on you.
𝓔RIS♡᭮ ⠀⠀ᯇ⠀⠀this took me a little to write cause this is my debut fic on mjblr…. i wanted to make certain i didn’t get anything wrong golly. thank you SOSOSOSO much for reading and if you enjoyed it make sure to SMASH that reblog button
a/n: i know that this didn’t happen in michael’s thriller era, but for my mental health and ovulation, it did.
the sun had set over disneyland, casting a warm glow over the magical kingdom as you and michael—now husband and wife—had made your way back to your luxurious hotel room. the day had been filled with laughter, cotton candy, and endless rides.
michael had kicked his shoes off by the door, letting out a contented sigh as he loosened his tie. the suite was breathtaking—floor-to-floor ceiling windows overlooking the sparking lights of the city, a king sized bed draped in silk sheets, and rose petals scattered across the marble bathroom floor. he turned to you with that boyish grin, his dark eyes sparking with mischief.
michael approached you slowly, his hands reaching out to gently frame your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, his lips were warm and tender. pulling back slightly, he whispered against your lips, “mrs. jackson…”
you couldn’t help but smile at the way his voice wrapped around your new title. it was surreal to be married to michael jackson, but in moments like this, he was just your husband—your loving, playful husband. you playfully bit his bottom lip softly, “mr. jackson,” you teased back.
he chucked softly at that, the sound sending familiar shivers down your spine. “come here,” he murmured, guiding you backward toward the bed. his fingers deftly worked at the zip of your dress as he backed you up, until you both landed on the plush mattress.
you giggled breathlessly, “michael, you’re so impatient.”
“i’ve been patient all day!” he protested with a laugh, nuzzling into your neck. “we’ve been surrounded by kids and mickey mouse all day. i just want to be alone with my wife.” his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress higher.
you gasped as his fingers brushed against against the lace of your panties, your head falling back against the pillows. “well, you have me all to yourself now,” you breathed out, your fingers tangling in his curly hair. the room filled with the sound of your hushed whispers and gentle touches.
michael wasted no time in shedding his shirt, revealing his soft skin that you knew so well. he hovered over you, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. the atmosphere shifted from playful to heavy with desire, the scent of roses and your mingled colognes filling the air.
you arched your back, pulling him closer to you. his breath was hot against your skin as he unclasped your bra, his lips immediately finding your nipple. you moaned softly, threading your fingers through his thick curls while he lavished attention on each breast, his tongue making lazy circles around your hardened peaks.
michael’s hands trailed down your sides, gripping your hips as he moved down your body, pulling your panties off with a swift tug. he spread your legs wide, settling his broad shoulders between them. his first languid lick had you gripping the sheets, your hips lifting off the bed.
“michael…” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his tongue worked expertly between your thighs. he looked up at you through those dark lashes, a wicked glint in his eyes. “you taste so sweet, baby,” he murmured against your slick folds before diving back in, his tongue swirling around your clit. your breath hitched, your thighs trembling against his head.
unable to take the teasing any longer, you reached down and tugged at his waistband, freeing his length. he groaned appreciatively at your eager touch, stroking himself slowly as he watched you writhe beneath him. “i need you inside me, please,” you pleaded, your voice thick with desires michael smirked, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. “patience, mrs. jackson.”
he teased your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing himself against you but not pushing in. he lovers how you squirmed and whimpered beneath him, your nails scratching his back. “say please again,” he whispered with a smirk, loving how desperate you sounded for him.
“please, baby,” you gasped out, your legs spreading wider to give him better access. “i need you so bad…please.” michael finally granted your wish, pushing into your tight heat with one slow, torturously delicious stroke. both of you cried out as you became one, the intimacy of the moment washing over you even more than the pleasure.
he began moving then, slow at first, deep thrusts made the bed springs squeak with each one. his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed as he lost himself in the rhythm. “you feel so good,” he groaned against yours lips, his pace quickening as your walls clenched around him. “my wife…”
you clawed at his back, urging him on. michael obliged, his movements becoming more intense and passionate as he clung to you. the headboard of the bed began to hit the wall with a rhythmic thudding sound that matched their hurried breathing and muffled moans. he shifted his angle slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.
“right there, right fucking there,” you cried out, your voice getting louder with each thrust. michael covered your mouth with his to muffle the sounds, kissing you deeply as he drove into you harder, the bed breaking loudly beneath you both.
the sounds of your passionate lovemaking filled the room—skin slapping against skin, the wet sounds of his cock thrusting into your dripping pussy, the loud squeaks of the bed springs—michael reached down and grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to go even deeper.
you arched your back as he hit that spot inside you repeatedly, your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. the bed was now shaking violently against the wall with each powerful thrust. michael’s breath came in ragged gasps against your neck as he whispered dirty words only you could hear.
“i’m close,” you whimpered, your walls clenching around him tightly. michael groaned deeply, his pace becoming erratic as he felt your orgasm approaching. “come for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “let me feel you.” his thrusts became harder, faster, completely losing control as the bed grained under your combined weight.
you shattered beneath him, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through you. your scream was muffled by his shoulder as you clenched around him uncontrollably. the climax triggered something in michael—he buried himself deep, his thrusts becoming brutal.
a sound then echoed through the suite like a gunshot. both of you froze mid-thrust as the wooden bed frame splintered beneath you, the middle collapsing inward. you both tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs, michael landing on top of you with a startled yelp.
silence stretched between you for a heartbeat before michael burst into surprised laughter against your neck.
“i can’t believe—“ he laughed between gasps, still inside you despite now being on the floor. “did we just break the bed?” his eyes were bright with amusement, dimples appearing as he grinned down at you. you were too breathless to scold him, still trembling from your orgasm as he lazily thrust just once more.
you burst into laughter despite still being in complete shock from what just happened, your chest heaving with spent breaths “that’s because you lost control completely, michael!” you managed to say, running your fingers along his jaw. michael kissed you softly, not moving from where he was buried inside you. “worth it,” he murmured against your lips, flexing his hips slowly as sparks ignited between you again.
you both looked over at the broken bed frame and started giggling like teenagers. michael slowly pulled out of me, both of you wincing slightly at the sensitivity. he lay on his back on the carpet, pulling you against his chest.
“you know,” he said thoughtfully, running his fingers through your hair as you curled up on his chest, “they say your honeymoon is supposed to be romantic and perfect. but i think i prefer our version—broken bed and great sex.”
you giggled against his skin, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “most couples just break a glass of something. we took out the whole damn bed frame.” michael chuckled, the sound vibrating against your cheek. “that’s because you’re fully mine now. i can be as wild as i want.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his arm tightening around you.
the laughter eventually died down, replaced by comfortable silence as you both lay tangled on the floor. michael traced lazy patterns on your hip, his breathing slowly returned to normal.
“so…” you murmured, looking up at him with a tired smile. “do you think we should call the front desk orrr?”
michael groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand. “we’re definitely getting charged for that,” he muttered, though he couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. “though i’m not complaining.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass. “worth every penny.”
you snorted, poking his ribs. “you’re the one with the money, mr. jackson.” you joked.
☙ SYNOPSIS: you’re janet’s best friend so you got invited to stay the whole summer with her at her home in hayvenhurst. you’ve always been attracted to her older brother, pff who wouldn’t? but little do you know he sort of has a crush on you too. so now you have to figure out how you’re going to survive six long weeks while being under the same roof as him.
⌫ WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI — post!thriller michael, age gap (reader is 21 & michael is 26), janet knows about readers crush and teases her about it, michael is such a gentleman, j*e doesn’t exist cause i said so, michael’s brothers being teases, also randy tries to flirt with reader a lot, jealous!michael, oblivious!reader, horny!reader, first kiss, virginity loss, sub!michael if you squint really hard, oral (m!receiving), riding, unprotected p in v, creampie (oops), no use of y/n, happy ending
☙ WORD COUNT: 6.0k words
✿ NOTES: guys i got a bit lazy at the end as i always do lol. but i hope you still enjoy it, this is also one of my personal favs mwah!
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
SUMMER 1985
you hum to the soft music playing in your car, feeling the warmth of a summer afternoon through your car window as you start to get closer to the hayvenhurst gates.
you cannot believe that you're staying the whole summer at hayvenhurst.
you've been friends with janet jackson since you both met at school in indiana but you lost contact over the years when your family had to move away. it was only recently that you both reconnected and have been inseparable ever since.
that's why she invited you over to her beautiful family home, to spend the summer and you are more than excited. not only are you going to be having the best summer of your life with your best friend but you'll also get to meet him.
yes, michael jackson.
when you were younger, you never actually got the chance to meet janet's older brothers but it was only when you moved away to a different state and you saw how popular the jackson's became that you realised that your friend had fine ass brothers.
you remember having a crush on all of them, not knowing who to choose, but there was always one that stood out from the rest and that was michael.
it was just a coincidence that he turned out to be a bigger star than the rest of them, with him going solo and having the biggest selling album of all time.
you pull your car to a stop, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head before opening your car door.
just as you go to open up your trunk so you can get out your multiple suitcases, the door of hayvenhurst bursts open.
“you’re here!” janet squeals, running towards you and giving you a massive hug.
you laugh, hugging her back just as tightly.
“im so excited to be here. oh my gosh this place is much bigger in person.” you gawk, looking up at the massive lawn.
“ehhh you get used to it.” janet smiles, before looking at the multiple suitcases and bags that are stuffed into your trunk.
“girl did you pack your whole life in here?” she laughs, helping you take out your stuff.
“janet im here for six damn weeks, i need options.” you giggle.
“fair enough.” she nods, “i hope you have a lot of bikinis in there because we’re about to be by that pool all the time!” she raises a brow.
you give her a look that means ‘girl be so for real.’
she laughs at your facial expression, grabbing a few of your bags and helping you to the door.
“but seriously,” you start. “are you sure your mom is fine with me staying?” you ask.
“pff of course! mommy is more excited for you to stay than i am. she did say there needs to be more women in the house.” janet laughs, dropping one of your suitcases right by the door.
“what about your brothers, will they be fine with me staying?”
“who cares what they think?” janet shrugs. “plus this estate is big enough for us to never see their ugly faces.”
you laugh at her words, going back to your trunk so you can grab a few more bags. it does really feel like you packed your whole world in here. but you’d rather have too much clothes, than too little!
you jump when you hear janet scream at the top of her lungs. “randy! michael! come down here!”
“what?” janet shrugs, when she sees your expression. “we shouldn’t have to carry all of this by ourselves.”
“janet it’s fine.” you smile. “this is all technically my stuff so i should be the one carrying it all.”
“girl please, i have brothers for reasons like this one.” right as she says those words, randy comes round the corner followed by michael.
“did you really have to shout that loud?” randy raises a brow, putting his hands on his hips.
you stop in your tracks when your eyes find michael’s. he looks even more beautiful in person.
“who’s she?” michael’s questions, his voice so smooth and soft spoken that it feels like you’ve been wrapped in a blanket.
“she’s my friend.” janet smiles, “and she’s staying for the summer so be nice.”
“oh ill be nice alright.” randy says, his eyes trailing your body up and down.
you laugh at his words, pulling out another suitcase.
“now go help the girl, that’s what i called y’all down for.” janet says, pushing michael towards you.
randy sighs, coming towards you and helping you with your bags.
“what’s your name?” he asks.
you tell him your name, fixing your sunglasses that are trying to slip off of the top of your head.
“that’s a pretty name.” randy smirks, shaking your hand. but not before squeezing it gently.
“randy stop flirting with my friend, and michael,” you look over to see that michael still hasn’t moved from his position by the door, “stop gawking and go help randy!” janet huffs, bossing around her older brothers.
michael sighs, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, and walking over to your car so he can help with the bags.
the first thing you notice when he steps near you is his cologne.
how can a man smell so damn good.
“hi.” michael nods, holding his hand out for you to shake.
his hand is big, way bigger than yours and you look down at the warmth radiating from his palms.
“hi.” you say, sounding just a bit breathless. “thanks for helping with my stuff, i know it’s a lot but i’m here for the whole summer and i wanted to make sure that i had enough clothes…” you trail off when you see the amused look on janet, randy and even michael’s face.
your face starts to feel strangely warm at the realisation that you just word vomited in front of michael jackson.
randy let’s out a laugh in disbelief. “no way.”
michael stays silent, still gripping your hand, and still staring into your eyes like he’s trying to look into your soul.
“girl.” janet shakes her head, a smile forming on her face, “come and get your butt in this house so i can show you your room.”
“right!” you clear your throat, letting go of michael’s hand who still hasn’t moved, and making your way to the massive doors of hayvenhurst.
“thank you again by the way!” you say over your shoulder to the two men.
“just come on!” janet laughs, leading you into the large foyer.
“i just embarrassed myself didn’t i.” you let out a nervous laugh.
“why did you just spill your guts out there?” janet laughs. “and to michael of all people…”
“i don’t know,” you shrug, “he’s just so nice and…”
janet throws her head back in laughter. “oh my god you totally have a crush on michael.”
“wha— no!” you exclaim, following your friend as she leads you up a large staircase.
“you definitely do. i can’t wait to tell the rest of my brothers and la toya. i mean, i think randy already realised.”
“janet i don’t have a crush on him!” you shout, following her down a long hallway until eventually you both stop at a door.
“mhmm, sure you don’t.” she laughs, “well if you do then this will become a very interesting summer!”
“well i don’t. so there will be nothing interesting to see!” you cross your arms.
“okay!” janet holds her hands up in surrender. “anyways this is your room, my room is just down that hall, to the left and if you must know michael’s room is down that way, all the way at the end of the hall. you can’t miss it.”
“janet!” you gasp, pushing her shoulder playfully.
“okay! okay! ill stop.” she laughs. “but i’m really happy you’re here, you’re gonna enjoy yourself so much!”
“i cannot thank you enough for letting me be here this summer, i know we’re going to have so much fun.” you pull her into a hug.
“that we are!” she says, pulling away. “i mean hot girl summer, remember?”
“exactly that!” you both cackle, doing the handshake that you both learnt when you were both just little girls in school.
“i’m going to leave you here and see how the boys are doing with your overwhelming amount of bags, and you can just meet me downstairs at the pool in, ill say maybe an hour?”
you nod. “definitely! i’m going to take a quick shower because the drive here was long, and ill meet you by the pool, if i can even find where it is.” you laugh.
“okay then how about i meet you here in an hour so i can show you where the pool is because id hate for you to get lost on your first day here!” janet giggles.
“yes, that’ll be amazing.” you open your door, stepping inside. “thank you again, janet.” you say, before closing your door and realising that you may have fucked up by coming here.
because the whole time you were speaking to janet, the only person who was on your mind was michael freaking jackson.
“so…” randy smirks, leaning against your car with his arms crossed.
michael looks up at his younger brother in confusion. “what?”
“so what do you think about pretty girl… janet’s friend.”
michael shrugs, “nothing? i don’t even know her.”
“oh but i bet you wanna know her.” randy laughs.
michael scrunches up his face, “no i don’t. she’s not my friend, why would i want to get to know her? stop being stupid randy.”
“well she obviously likes you.” randy says, raising his eyebrow. “pretty girl never even gave me a second glance when she saw you.”
“she has a name.” michael huffs, crossing his arms.
“ohhhh!” randy cackles, pushing his brothers shoulder. “you don’t like me calling her that do you? getting a bit protective aren’t you mikey?”
“oh shut up.” michael mumbles, feeling his face start to burn up.
“just admit that you like her.” randy states.
“i don’t know her, randy. how can i like someone i don’t know?” michael exclaims, getting frustrated by his little brothers pestering.
“so you’re saying you don’t find her attractive?”
“i— i don’t…”
randy laughs at his brother fumbling over his own words.
“it’s okay to find a girl pretty mikey.” randy snickers, finding this whole situation comical.
michael’s face now feels hot to touch, because he does find you attractive, more than attractive and this is the first time he’s ever met you. so how on earth is he going to handle spending the whole summer with you?
“what are you guys just doing standing there?” michael hears janet call from the open door.
“we’re talkin!” randy yells back.
“well less talking and more carrying these bags upstairs for my girl!” janet stomps back into the house.
“i swear sometimes i wonder who’s worse, her or mother.” randy shakes his head, doing exactly what his baby sister is asking him to do.
michael on the other hand is distracted by you. the way you showed up in tiny tank top, showing a sliver of your smooth stomach, and jeans that hugged your arse so perfectly that he wonders if they were painted on.
he sighs in frustration, annoyed by his own mind.
he shouldn’t be thinking this way about another woman, especially not a woman that’s the same age as his damn sister.
but for some reason he can’t, his mind is engraved with the thought of you.
for the past couple of days, all you and janet have been doing is lazing around by the pool, painting each others nails, shopping, gossiping about ex boyfriends, and just having fun.
you never thought hayvenhurst could be this welcoming, and have such a homey feeling. and you also didn’t expect janet to be correct about the mansion being big enough that you won’t even see her brothers or anyone else for that matter, because you’ve actually hardly seen them.
this is only your second week here so far, and you’ve only caught a tiny glimpse of marlon when he was on his way out to a date, but that’s it.
it’s like they all have their own seperate bubbles in the estate and only come out when they feel like it.
that’s why it was such a shock that when you decided to come into the kitchen late at night to grab a bottle of water, you found michael sitting on a stool at the island, with a notebook and a glass of orange juice.
you nearly run back out of the kitchen and back to your room because not only is the one person who you can’t get out of your mind less than ten feet away but also because you’re alone… with him.
a man who has been in your dreams for as long as you can remember and now he’s just there, right in your reach.
you’re probably going to embarrass yourself again.
he still hasn’t noticed you by the door way, too busy scribbling down notes.
“hi.” you mumble, stepping into the kitchen and making a beeline straight for the fridge.
michael’s head pops up at the sound of your smooth, velvety voice and immediately takes in what you’re wearing. he tries not to let his eyes wander, but it’s hard to stay focused when he can make out your tiny pyjama shorts, that look like they just about cover your arse.
he clears his throat, ridding his mind of those filthy thoughts. “hi.” his mouth forms a tight lipped smile, before he ducks his head back down and tries to concentrate on his notebook filled with unfinished lyrics.
you feel a small pang of hurt in your chest at the feeling of being dismissed. you get it, you’re just a regular girl who happens to be his sisters bestfriend and also staying in his home for the summer, but he doesn’t even care that you’re here, at all.
honestly why would he? he probably has hundreds of women fawning over him and you think that out of all of them, you’ll be the one to catch his attention.
ugh, you hate that you’re so delusional and you hate that you can’t get him out of your fucking head.
“sorry.” you apologise, taking out a bottle of water from the fridge. “m’ just here to get water, i didn’t mean to disturb you.” you give him the same tight lipped smile that he gave you and start to make your way out of the kitchen.
“it’s okay.” his soft voice, stops you immediately. “you didn’t disturb me.”
you turn around immediately at his words, biting your bottom lip.
“are you not tired?” you ask, mentally face palming at the question. you just got an invitation to carry on a conversation with your biggest obsession and the first thing you ask him is that? “im sorry, that’s not what i meant, i mean… its late and you’re not in bed like everyone else.” you shrug.
you should really stop speaking. because it’s like the more you speak, the more embarrassing shit comes out your mouth.
michael let’s put a soft chuckle. “it’s okay. i find it hard to sleep at night sometimes, so instead of sleeping, i write down all the ideas that keep me up.”
you nod in understanding.
“why aren’t you sleeping?” you see him raise an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips and how he easily flipped the question back onto you.
“i- i was sleeping!” you sputter out.
“yet you’re here standing in front of me.” your mouth widens in shock at his bold words.
he normally seems so shy and secluded but you didn’t know that he could be so bold and dare you say, funny?
before you knew it you found yourself on the stool right beside him, talking, laughing and joking around like life long friends.
“you’re so funny!” you laugh, after recovering from a laugh attack that he just gave you. you swear you probably have abs from how hard he’s made you laugh.
he shrugs, a wide smile on his face.
and that’s when you realise that it’s already later than it was before, and you are getting a bit tired.
you yawn for what feels like the twentieth time, and that’s when michael realises you should probably go to bed.
he stands up, stretching out his legs. “c’mon.” he holds out his hand so you can help you off of the stool even though he doesn’t have to. but he is a gentleman after all. “you need to go to bed. you’re practically falling asleep sitting up.”
“i do.” you yawn. “i really enjoyed talking to you tonight mikey.” you give him a tired smile.
“mikey?” he raises a brow.
“yeah. short for michael, do you not like that?” you ask, wondering if you’ve overstepped a line. you may have just spoken to him for an hour straight but you’re still practically a nobody to him.
“i like when you say it.” he says, causing heat to creep up the back of your neck.
was that him just flirting with you?
“okay.” you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “ill call you that more often then.” you smile, grabbing your unopened bottle of water.
“goodnight mikey.” you whisper, leaving him standing at the kitchen island all by himself.
as you walk out of the kitchen, michael takes a deep breath.
he never wanted this. it was okay at first because he thought he could keep himself busy and avoid you. but now that he’s heard your laugh, heard your sassy comebacks, saw the way you looked so relaxed in his presence… he just may have fucked up.
because now he has to have you.
you and michael have sort of made a routine since that one night you both spent talking in the kitchen. it happened once, then again, then again until every single night after that, you found yourself in that kitchen talking to michael about how your day went, what you and janet got up too etc. and he did the same, talking to you about his demo’s that he showed quincy, telling you about how he went to visit a children’s hospital with bill so he could give them toys and read them stories.
you never thought you could become even more obsessed with someone. but michael is genuinely one of a kind. he’s quirky, has a good soul, loves to compliment you. at this point you’ll consider him your friend.
you remember trying to hide it from janet the first night but she saw underneath all of your lies and is aware that you want michael jackson… badly.
she wastes no time with teasing you about him every chance she gets, like now.
“i can practically see you drooling.” janet snickers.
you gasp, hitting her softly on her arm.
“that was so loud, what if he hears!” you exclaim, looking over at the pool where michael and his brothers are relaxing.
“oh please, he’s already staring at you.”
your neck snaps towards michael, who’s laying on a float, with his shirt unbuttoned and swim shorts. you can’t exactly see if he’s looking at you since he’s wearing his shades, and marlon seems to be saying something to him. but with the way his head is pointed in your direction, you can’t exactly rule out the fact that he might be looking at you.
you lean back on your sunbed, scoffing. “why would he even be staring at me?”
“because he likes you, and you unfortunately like him.” she makes a face in disgust, still trying to get over the fact that you have a massive crush on her brother.
you laugh, “it’s not unfortunate, he’s cute. really cute.”
she pretends to gag at your words. “okay i can just about deal with you having a crush on my brother, but i can’t and won’t sit here and listen to you absolutely drool over him.”
“you started it. you should’ve never said anything.” you say, watching the way randy jumps into the pool, splashing everyone even you a bit.
“damn it, randy.” janet yells, wiping her arms off with her towel that was hung at the back of her sunbed.
“that’s what happens when you girls refuse to get in the pool.” randy grins.
“im tanning.” janet holds up her middle finger, before settling back and closing her eyes.
“what about you pretty girl, you wanna come in the pool with us.” you laugh at the nickname randy has given you, because unfortunately from the first day he met you and he called you that, it’s seemed to have stuck.
“sure.” you shrug, taking off your shades and plopping them on your sunbed.
janet lifts her shades up and gives you a cheeky wink.
“stop it.” you laugh, taking off your cover up that’s wrapped around your waist.
you slip into the pool, and right away you’re getting splashed with water from randy.
“randy!” you squeal, splashing water back at him.
you shriek, swimming to the edge of the pool coincidentally next to michael and his float.
“quit it.” michael says to randy, when he sees you trying to get away from him.
“oh you hiding behind mikey now?” randy smirks, when you hide behind michael’s float.
your smile is so big that you’re surprised your cheeks ain’t aching, “i thought i was going to have a peaceful swim in the pool not for you to try and drown me!” you joke.
“that’s why i never go in the pool with them boys!” janet shouts from her sunbed.
“you could’ve warned me!” you shout back, still clutching onto the edge of michael’s float who is laying there unfazed by this whole thing.
“it’s okay pretty, ill get you back next time.” randy gives you a wink before getting absolutely dunked by marlon.
“and that’s what he gets.” michael whispers to himself but you overhear it.
“hey!” you look up at him, brushing some of your wet curls out of your face.
“hey,” he says softly, smiling down at you.
michael tracks the way you bite your lip nervously before opening up your mouth to speak.
“were you watching me over there?” you grin.
“i was.” he says, honestly.
“why?” you question, putting both of your hands on his float, right near his shoulder.
“‘cause you’re pretty.” your heart speeds up at his choice of words.
“you think so?” you ask boldly, you have no idea where this surge of boldness has came from.
“mhm.” he hums, his gaze dropping to your lips. a sudden silence takes over and you realise that your faces are much closer than they were before.
“will yall just kiss already!” marlon shouts, from across the pool.
the tension snaps, you both looking in marlon’s direction.
“that’s what im saying!” janet shouts, making you duck your head in embarrassment.
“you guys are annoying.” michael mutters, settling back onto his float. you were so entranced by him that you never realised that he was leaned over his float just so he could be close to you.
you shriek, when randy catches you off guard yet again with a splash of water.
“you know what!” you shake your head, deciding to splash him back with everything you got.
“wait wait— pretty m’sorry!” he pleads, when you don’t stop.
“that’s what you get!” you laugh, you look back at michael’s float after being distracted by randy for so long, only to see that his float is empty and he’s making his way back inside with a towel on his shoulder.
“where’s he going?” you ask, “it’s still hot outside?”
“he might be jealous...” marlon says, raising a brow towards you and randy.
“huh?” you ask, seeing randy and marlon laughing. “why would michael be jealous?”
“pretty girl, have you not seen the way he looks at you? that man is obsessed!”
you give randy a look in utter confusion. “i- we… we’re friends, i think? i mean i- i find him cute but he hasn’t made any move that suggests he feels the same about me?” you just about sputter out your words, heat creeping up your neck at the thought that michael may feel the same way about you.
he did call you pretty, so maybe that might mean something. but so does randy and there’s nothing romantic about that?
janet says your name with a groan, sitting up on her sunbed. “babe i love you, i really do but you’re acting really stupid right now.”
“what?” you exclaim.
“he likes you!” marlon says, “you really thought this whole time that this was him just being friendly?”
“yeah!” you shrug. “he’s a nice guy!”
“oh my god.” janet throws her hands in the air, dramatically. “girl you better get your butt in that house and search for your man.”
you nearly choke at her words, “he’s not my man!”
“well he wants to be, and i know you want him to be exactly that, so stop acting like you don’t!” janet says, you stay in the pool, staring at her and her brothers in utter bewilderment.
janet says your name, “go!”
you blink away your nerves, swallowing nervously and getting out of the pool with randy’s help.
“make sure he’s not too mad at me aight, i just wanted to give you both a little push,” randy winks at you, sending you into the hayvenhurst mansion in search of michael.
“michael!” you yell, wrapping your towel around your waist.
you check in the kitchen, no sight of him.
you check the living room, nope, not there.
you remember janet saying that his room is on the same floor as yours, just the last door down the hall, so you decide to trust her words and find his room.
you get to his door, knocking on it a few times. “michael! are you in there?” you ask.
“mikey!” you knock again, not hearing an answer.
you go to knock again, but the door opens revealing michael who looks utterly pissed.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this furious before, and you want to know why.
“can i come in?” you question, when he just stands at the door in silence.
he steps to the side, letting you come into his room. you look around, seeing albums and vinyls everywhere.
pictures and post it notes stuck to every wall, his room basically looks like a studio booth, just with a bed in the middle.
you turn around when you realise he’s still silent behind you.
“michael what’s wrong?” you ask him, sitting on the couch that’s opposite his bed.
“nothing.” he shrugs. “you didn’t need to come and look for me.”
“well i do because you’re brothers were saying that you were upset, did i do something?”
michael looks at you, really looks at you and sees the desperation in your eyes.
“you did nothing, there’s nothing wrong.” he repeats himself, sitting on the edge of his bed.
you sigh, standing up and sitting beside him. “mikey…” you whisper, trying to amp yourself up so you can ask him the question. you are hoping that janet, randy and marlon aren’t setting you up because if they are, what you’re about to say will be embarrassing. “were you jealous seeing me with randy?”
michael’s head snaps up, and the look in his eyes tells it all. “yes. i was.” he admits, truthfully.
your mouth opens in shock at his words, because they were right. janet, marlon and randy were right, he does feel the same way about you.
“i— i hated seeing you two laugh with each other, or the way he kept on calling you pretty girl and—” before you can stop yourself you lean up and press a deep kiss on his lips, stopping him from speaking. after the initial shock of the kiss vanishes, michael closes his eyes, his hand coming up to the back of your head so he can deepen the kiss.
you let out a small whimper in the kiss when michael gently pushes you down onto the bed so he’s now on top of you. you grip onto his unbuttoned shirt, pulling his mouth harder against yours, as you let his tongue push past your lips. the kiss is desperate, messy, filled with heat and lust. but at this point you don’t care, this is all you’ve needed from when you first saw him.
he breaks away from the kiss panting, his forehead dropping against yours. you give him a few light pecks, not wanting your lips to leave his.
“you don’t have to be jealous.” you pant, your hand coming up to tangle in his curls. “because all ive wanted is you.” this time michael is the one kissing you, his mouth shifting into a grin, kissing you like he just the thought of you makes him hungry.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body more firmly on top of yours. you gasp in his mouth, when you feel something thick and heavy pressed against your stomach.
michael realises, breaking away from the kiss and looking down to see a massive tent in his swim shorts. you immediately see the embarrassment on his face. “m’sorry,” he sits up and covers his face. “you— you just drive me insane and you’re so pretty and…”
“mikey.” you say, sitting up and pulling his hands from his face.
“it’s okay.” you smile, biting your bottom lip. you put your hand over his bulge, giving it a squeeze.
michael groans, dropping his head back.
“baby…” he moans, just by the light touch of your hand.
“do you want this?” you question.
“yes.” michael says quickly when your hand goes into his shorts, finding his hot and heavy length. “ive never… fuck,” he curses when you wrap your hand around him, your fingers not even touching all the way, “ive never done this before.”
him saying that shocks you because he’s older than you by a couple years, and while you’ve had boyfriends and have fucked a few times… he hasn’t.
you’ll be lying if you say that you being his first doesn’t make you wet.
“that’s okay.” you whisper, climbing off the bed and getting on your knees right in front of him. you pull him out of his shorts fully, gawking at the length and thickness of him.
“baby, you don’t have to—” michael groans, his eyes rolling back when you wrap your warm mouth around his fat tip. you open your mouth wider, trying to get as much of him in your mouth as possible.
you bob your head up and down, humming at the taste of him.
“oh…” he pants, swallowing hard when you look up at him, your eyes filled with lust. “this feels so good.”
you hum, opening your legs a little wider, your clit throbbing just from you sucking him off.
you take him into your mouth deeper, gagging when his tip reaches the back of your throat. you come off his dick with a pop, swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting all the pre cum that’s oozing out.
michael bucks his hips, when you put him back into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and bopping your head faster.
you feel his dick twitch in your throat, knowing that he’s so close, “oh gosh…baby!” michael whines. his mouth falling open in utter bliss.
“wait, wait!” michael pants, gently using your hair to pull you off of him.
you look up at him, spit dribbling down your chin, your eyes glossy with lust.
“come here,” michael says, pulling you up from your position on your knees.
“wha— mphhh!” michael kisses you, groaning when he tastes himself on your tongue and pulls you onto his lap so you’re right above his throbbing length.
“wanna feel you.” he mumbles against your lips. you nod, pulling your bikini bottoms to the side and feeling your wetness coating your fingers. you reach behind you, raising yourself up as high as you can, feeling his tip breach your entrance.
your mouth falls open, feeling the delicious stretch of his tip pushing inside of you.
michael pushes his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.
you push your self down slowly, taking in every single thick inch of his length.
once you’re fully seated you pull michael’s face towards you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss.
you hold his face, staring into his eyes when you raise yourself up right to the tip and then drop yourself back down.
you moan, finding a steady rhythm and loving the feeling of his thickness stretching you open every time you reach the hilt of him.
“you feel so good,” michael gasps, leaning back on his hands and watching the way your pussy swallows him.
“hmm… so big. you’re so big.” you whine, bouncing faster and feeling that warm heat low in your stomach.
michael grips onto your hips, laying his back down on the mattress fully, even though his feet are still pressed on the floor.
you grind your hips, rubbing your clit and feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.
gripping your hips tighter, michael starts thrusting up into you, throwing his head back at the utter tightness and warmth of your cunt.
he swears he’s never felt such pleasure before in his life.
you shatter above him, flopping onto his chest, hearing his almost broken moans, while his thrusts quicken until you feel him push his whole length into you, feeling the warmth of his seed burst into your womb.
“holy shit.” is the first thing you hear, after the ringing in your ears subside.
you look up at him with a dazed smile, seeing how fucked out he looks.
his curls are sticking to his head, his eyes are completely glossed over. dare you say that he looks… reborn.
“i didn’t expect that to happen when i just came up here to check if you were okay.” you giggle, dropping your head back onto his chest.
“me neither.” he chuckles, “but im glad it happened.”
“really?” you say.
“definitely. ive been wanting to do that since i saw you.”
you hide your face in his neck, feeling embarrassed after you’ve already rode the fuck out of him.
“mikey.” you giggle.
he drops his head down, giving you a kiss on your temple. “im serious though, i didn’t like the way randy was all over you.”
you laugh, “he said he was just doing that so he could give us a little push and now you have to thank him because it worked!” you gesture between the two of you.
“nah i ain’t ever thanking that big head.” michael grins, rubbing a hand up your back.
you smile, leaning up to kiss him deeply.
who knew staying at your bestfriend’s home would have you shackling up with her older brother.
“you think they’re both okay up there? should i go and check on her?” janet asks her brother’s, who have long since came out of the pool and are just playing catch with a beach ball.
marlon snickers, shaking his head. “if you know what’s better for you baby sis, you better leave that girl alone until tomorrow morning. she ain’t coming down anytime soon.”
randy laughs, shaking marlon’s hand.
janet’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at what they’re getting at. after a couple moments of thinking it over, she nearly throws up at the thought. “ew gross! don’t be saying that marlon!” she shouts, throwing a towel at his head.
“you did ask!” marlon cackles.
“yeah right!” janet pouts, knowing that as disgusting as it is, marlon is right and now she’s unfortunately going to have to share you with michael.
because knowing you and knowing michael, you both aren’t letting each other go.
