my big 3 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ lana del rey 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ stevie nicks 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ ethel cain 🌝
🔮 honorable mentions — 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ paramore / hayley williams 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ clairo 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ p!atd 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ korn 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ pantera 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ slipknot 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ jeff buckley 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ fiona apple 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ alice in chains 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ metallica 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ lady gaga 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ the doors 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ kesha𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ michael jackson
other acc is @555aturn but I do not use it anymore so I don’t recommend following LMAO
main masterlist !! my ethel cain verse masterlist !! 1k celly !! sweetgirl’s kinktober !!
guidelines for requests !! (they’re closed for now)
❛ mature era!michael jackson 𝑥 𝑓 nanny!reader ❜ ╱ summary. some instances in which michael and you function as a couple . . . which you guys aren't. just a really, really good team.
warnings. no real warnings, it's just mainly fluff. and tbh i can't tell if this is actually domestic or not, but oh well i just really wanted to write the following scenarios. prince being prince. hints at michael's obsession for you. age gap - twenty years. not proofread. series m.list main m.list
michael who made an extreme emphasis on his desire to be present in his children's lives and not have them be raised by nannie's. but soon after blanket's birth he knew he needed a little extra help with a newborn and two little ones running around.
the interview process was long and tedious and happened over a few weeks as michael personally reviewed over applications, made the phone calls to let which applicants will be getting interviewed where and when, and conducted the interviews process with various questions;
"during times of stress how do you handle the chaos of the children?"
"what was the reason for leaving the last family you works for, and what made you interested in caring for my family?"
"do you have any formal education in child care, child education, or child development?"
"are you ready to take on not just my children's schedules but my own, and what that entails?"
he wants the best for his children and you just happen to be that. you're one of two of the last applicant who progressed to the very last interview, and watching the other applicant go first and leave with an unreadable expression only worsened your worries. and when you think everything is going good your nerves are on edge and heart pounding against your chest when michael rose from his seat across from you and extending his hand out to you. placing trembling hands on the edge of the conference desk to push your seat out and away so you can also stand, wiping your sweaty hand on your slacks before extending it to meet michael's firm grip, "congratulations, you're hired."
you didn't formally meet the children until your second day, you're first day was just you getting acclimated. already having signed every form of paper possible upon getting hired, all michael requested of you for your first day was to show up to neverland ranch at 7 a.m sharp. giving you a proper tour of neverland ranch before returning back to the house and to his office to go over the kids routine.
michael's eyes follow where your body bends to reach inside of the bag you brought with you, eyes widening just a bit when you pull out a dark green journal and pen. flipping the journal open and clicking the pen to jot down the small bit of what he had said about their schedules before he went silent, only the sounds of pen on paper filling the office.
when there's nothing more left to write down you peer your gaze up just a bit, but michael's eyes are trained on the journal in your lap, mouth slightly agape. "you can continue, mr. jackson."
the sound of your voice pulls his eyes back up to meet your own, licking his lips, "right," he continues, coughing lightly, "'nd it's michael, no formalities."
and he gets amused when you give him a curt nod before moving your pen to the very top of the page and write something down, probably something along the lines of no use of formalities.
only further getting amused by you when just before you leave you pull a container full of various cookies out, "i don't know what they're favorite is so i just made small batches of chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, and sugar cookies with sprinkles," you explain, fingers gripped around the nice container you bought specifically for this, not wanting to hand michael jackson a tupperware container.
hand it over, feeling uneasy when all he does is start at the container now in his hands, "you and the other staff can have some too of course, they're not just for the children," rambling on.
when michael looks up there's a small smile on his face, "thank you, we 'ppreciate it. they're are going t'love them for dessert."
introductions with the children go well, michael makes them thank you for the cookies, and it really doesn't take too long for them to warm up to you. it only took prince a few hours to approach you to ask if you would play with him, and if there's one thing about childcare that you will never get over is their small voices when they're still a little shy, which didn't last long with prince once he got comfortable with you.
and with blanket it took no time. the five of you sat around the dinning table as the kids ate their breakfast, with prince and paris sat next to each other, paris next to michael who is at the head of the table, you were in the seat right in front of paris while blanket was in his father arms, already having had a bottle. when michael was nursing his glass of orange juice that's when you feel it, a chubby hand lightly against your forearm.
taking blanket's smaller hand in yours, the natural movement he's making seem like the two of you are shaking hands. "hi, blanket," you muse, grinning when the infant begins to coo and show off his gummy smile. his arms now fully trying to reach you.
"he's tryin' t'escspe my arms, d'you wan' him?" the question has you thinking for a second, but you do agree.
"yeah, i'll take him." opening your arms and reaching out to grab the infant. blanket instantly settling within your arms, resting his head onto your shoulder, his cheek squishing adorably against it that has michael bringing a finger to sooth at his other chubby cheek.
however, it's paris that takes some time to fully warm up to you. she still interacted with you, but she never sought you out like how prince would take your hand in his and guide you off somewhere, most likely somewhere with an elaborate toy set up or the makeshift fort he built. or how blanket started to naturally cling to you whenever you were around. but paris seemed to always longingly stare at you whenever you interacted with her brothers. you always tried to include her, making the space for her to join in welcome as you remember michael telling you that paris is interested in whatever prince has.
you didn't take it personally, you figured it would take time since during the first meeting she had clung to michael's leg, using it to hide and peek from as she'd like. and you related to her, being a shy yourself during childhood, knowing that within time and gentleness that she will hopefully get more comfortable around you.
and that she did. a few weeks into caring for them it was quiet time. blanket was down for afternoon nap and this was the time where you'd put on a movie for the kids, usually a disney one and they could choose from watching the movie, a quiet activity, or to take a nap as well. prince had insisted on watching tarzan just end up curled asleep on the couch before jane and tarzan even meet, while paris chose to do a quiet activity of coloring.
taking this time you'd often journal in the very same dark green journal about anything and everything, a habit you carried for middle school, through high school, through college, and now through adulthood. you used to journal right before bed when you were younger, but the hours of being a nanny are from the start of the morning to the end of night, so you often opt for any free time you have to do so.
"wha's that?" a small voice asks.
feeling startled you look you see paris standing in front of you, trying to peer into the journal on your lap, "oh, it's just my journal," you respond, showing her the outside of the cover that's a little worn at the edges and the inside of the lined pages where you write.
her eyes sparkle with curiosity as you show the journal off, "is it for coloring?"
you're eyebrows furrow as you look at it, flipping through its ages, "it can be," you don't see why it couldn't be, "but i use it to write."
it's then that paris moves from in front of you to now sit squished against your side, "'nd write what?"
the question makes you smile, remembering how michael and her were sat at the dinning table just being dinner with sheets of blank paper and different colored crayons as she practiced writing her name. "i write anything," you begin, moving the journal from your lap into hers and allowing her to flip through the pages, "mainly about how i'm feeling."
"oh," it comes out quiet, like she's thinking about something.
and as you watch her an idea comes to mind, "y'know, i could get you a journal like mine."
your words instantly has paris's head turning to look at you, eyes wide like saucers, "really?" she exclaims.
chuckling at her excitement and the fact that she's still at the age where r's still sound like w's as you nod, "really, and we could practice your writing in it too," you solidify.
that's when paris's arms shoot and wrap around your torso, hugging you and squeezing her eyes shut, "than' you."
the moment tugs at your heart, wrapping your arms around to embrace her, "you're welcome, sweet girl."
and when you left that night you returned the next morning with baby pink journal, a few pack of stickers, and a glitter pen set.
it's truly fate on how well you and michael work together. falling into an easy rhythm within no time between the two of you and the children. you'd arrive at neverland every morning at 6, which gives you just enough time to say your hello's to the rest of the staff around the house before the children need to be woken up. you've developed routine of swigging by the kitchen to see what the chef is cooking for breakfast and snag a small bite of whatever is available, usually fruit when the chef's back is turned. and more times than not it leaves you and michael enough time to do a debrief of what the day entails, which is something that isn't really needed since you stay a little later on sunday nights to go over the next week, but still happens regardless. and through time it developed from that, figuring which one was going to wake which child up to random small talk, you're often the person who catches michael up on whatever sitcom show is airing on tv while he's tells you something from the news.
just outside the kid's bedrooms michael and you play rock paper scissors, the both of you hitting your open palms with your first as you whisper the words. and when you go for your safety, the reliable rock, while michael just had to go for paper you groan, throwing your head back.
looking back at him he's grinning at the way your shoulders are slightly slouched, "out of three?" you attempt, wiggling your eyebrows at the father.
an airy chuckle passes from his lips, "i've woken the lil' dragon everyday this week, by time i've gotten to wake the princess."
you and michael started referring to prince as little dragon when it comes to waking him up in the morning. he's stubborn, and it's hard to get the boy up and out of bed without persistent gentle pats and rubs to the head or back and encouraging words. you two try to hold off on turning the lights on in the kids room to get the up, finding it too abrupt, so more times than not the only light is either from the hallway or the raising sun through the curtains. while little miss paris is a dream to wake up, all it takes is a warm hand circling her back that gets her up and stretching in bed.
everyone knows that michael captures everything when it comes to his kids. from home videos, sports events, recital, anything, he finds it worthy of being caught on film.
and that includes the hard days. blanket had come down with cold that had only made abnormally fussy, and you would be lying if you said you weren't relieved when michael returned home. because entertaining prince and paris while maintaining blanket's symptoms and staying on top of his doses and still making sure that the two old kids don't get too close to blanket as siblings do so they don't fall sick as well.
michael took over for the evening essentially, he was with blanket for a little bit before you thought about how if anyone can get sick from being in close proximity to blanket it should probably be you, so you two swapped while he wore down the older kids and got them settled for the night.
while he was handling bath and bed time you were able to give blanket some purée that michael request the chef to make in batches and a bottle along with a night dose of medication. and instead of retreating back to couch that you've been on for most of the day, you retreated to blanket's nursery. sighing when you're tired body hits the rocking chair, instantly getting into the subconscious movement of rocking the infant to sleep. and in doing so you're own eyelids get heavy with each blink.
unknowingly michael had been looking for you after putting both prince and paris to bed. it takes him returning to the hallway where the kid's rooms reside to notice you and blanket in the rocker, watching the gentle movements of the rubs you're giving blanket's back. he doesn't fully know how to process how or what he's thinking, and to be honest michael hasn't been able to form a full solid opinion on you since the day you met. not that that's bad, you just seem too good to be true, and the way at which you deeply care for his children only confuses him more. knowing what it means for them to reach their development milestones along with ensuring that they are healthily expressing themselves both identity wise and emotionally. and it doesn't help that you're smart, one of the old family you nannied for during high school being generous enough to fund you going to school for psychology, and beautiful, your go to outfit being jeans with either a loose t-shirt or sweater it's effortless but pull it off too well and often more times than not you opt to have your curls up and away from blanket's strong grip.
and he knows it isn't right to develop a crush? or a deep admiration for his nanny, it gets in the way of you being able to do you job and it gets in the way of michael being able to form coherent thoughts around you, not to mention that he's twenty years your senior. he's kept it at bay since you started working, but he can't help but have the reason of why you split with your previous family you worked for loom over her head, the reason being that the kids you cared for just got too old for a nanny, entering adolescence. and although it was a mutual decision between you and the family, he doesn't think he could ever come to the conclusion that him and his children won't need you.
pulling himself out of his thoughts he retreats and returns with his camcorder. catching the sweet moment as a forever memory, just in case there is every a time you decide to leave, maybe to leave to pursue further education (although michael would happily fund it and keep you employed at the same time) or to start your own family (which he secretly dreads), for the kids to have moments they can look back on with you in them.
you who start staying later than you need to. masking it in the disguise of wanting to help michael with whatever chore is left, which is true, but you also selfishly enjoy the alone time with michael. the nights where you stay and help pick up toys and put them back and arrange them, which sometimes turn into small fights between you and michael when either one of you throw a stuffed animal at each other and quickly turn your backs before the other turns around. or the quieter nights spent listening to the jazz station on the radio as michael washes the dishes while you dry them. it's chores that you and michael really don't have to do, he has cleaners.
prince can pursued anyone, including his father and you. which is exactly how sleepovers became a special occasion.
the hard bargaining wasn't even getting his father to say yes, it was michael having to tell blanket that you may have something you'd want to do for yourself or with friends instead of having a sleepover with them.
which was a hard pill to swallow for both, but prince still being young ran from his father and straight to you. collapsing into you arms with tears brimming in his eyes, "please have a sleepover with us," his small voice messing up the pronouncement of a few words from pushing his face into your sweater, smoothing a gentle hand through the boy's hair to regulate him.
upon looking up to search for michael, he's already there, a hand on his hip, "he wan's y'to stay 'nd have a sleepover, but i told him that y'may have plans," he explains, walking over and trying to pull the boy from off of you, but he clings to your waist.
looking down at only the peek of blonde hair, you frown then smile, looking back at michael, "'m free friday night so i really don't mind."
"you really don-"
"'s alright, michael. and besides, haven't you been wanting to build that jumbo fort, prince?"
the mention of a fort and his name has prince pulling himself back from where he hides his face against your stomach, hands still crumpled in the material of your sweater. "yeah," it's quiet and meek as he nods his head.
you hand falls from his head down to his rosy cheek to wipe his tears streaks, "then no more cryin', we've get to look forward to friday."
which is exactly how you spent a friday night building the biggest fort you have every built with michael and the kids, the night entailing movies and ice cream and books and flashlight shows.
michael who has selfish thoughts whenever you're around. often during mealtimes when the five of you intertwine hands to bless the food.
he knows it's wrong to fantasize about the five of you being a real family whenever you arrive extra early just because you promised the kids special pancakes.
michael shuffles into the kitchen, expected to see the chef, which he does, but they're off to the side chopping fruits while you're the one at the stove. the sound of your name falling softly from michael's tongue has you looking up.
and he knows he's beyond gone when the wide smile that spreads across your face gives him butterflies, because it shouldn't.
"want a pancake?" you ask, as michael moves closer, turning your head back to pan to pay attention.
"wha' are you doin' this for?" he's close enough to you for you to feel his breath on your neck and for him to smell the faint scent of your perfume mixing with the scent of your hair products.
"for the kids," of course it is he thinks, peering down into the pan to see various sizes of pancake shapes, "gonna turn them into designs, like a monkey or somethin'" you explain, flipping the pancakes once their tops get all bubbly.
and when that's done you turn your head again, as best you can with michael close in your proximity, he might as well be glued to your back. "d'you want a pancake?" asking the father again as the two of you lock eyes.
"yeah, i'll take a pancake."
your head swiftly nods and once again focuses back on the pancakes. hearing shuffles of michael's feet and no longer feeling the presence of his body close to yours, "gonna go wake up the kids for breakfas'."
michael who secretly refers to paris and you as his girls.
all three of his children are blessings, but there was nothing more exciting than to find out he was having a daughter. and now with you in their lives he's thankful to have such a positive and strong woman figure in their lives.
lingering around in the mornings, body pressed against the bathroom doorframe as he watches you do paris's hair for the day as she sits on the bathroom counter. he can do his daughter's hair, but mostly just in simple plates and ponytails, while you can do the more detailed hairstyles.
and he loves nothing more than to come home and notice that the two of you has a dress up day. either by the colorful marks on your face and the precise blends of color on paris's or by paris running into her father's arms right when he steps through the door to show off her nails that you painted while he later notices the messy marks of nail polish on your nails and the surrounding skin at dinner.
michael who keeps a polaroid of you and the kids in his wallet. one taken on blanket's first birthday that he cherishes whenever he's away. often tracing a too large finger over your faces, missing the cheerful chaos of the kids and you no matter he's at a buzzing event or a quiet hotel.
the four of you are all wearing tiny birthday hats for blanket's birthday party. the birthday sits calmly in your lap while michael attempts to direct the old two around.
"no, prince, on her other side," his voice already defeated as the young boy keeps wanting to pose his own way.
"i wanna d'it like this though," prince pouts, moving to stand right behind where you sit on the floor and throw his small arms over your neck and hook his chin over your shoulder.
"let him be," you muse through a small grin that you shoot michael, the two of you know that prince is going to win the battle either way.
"okay, paris," just when he starts paris settles against your side, removing a secure hand around blanket's belly and using it to wrap around paris and pull he snug under your arm, "good, good," clicking his fingers together to get blanket's attention facing forward.
"everyone say happy first birthday, blanket."
and when it's said and the four of you are all smiling at the end, there's a click, that encases the memory forever.
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 except for the television playing softly somewhere in the background.
You sat comfortably against the headboard while Michael rested with his head in your lap, one arm loosely around your thighs.Your fingers moved through his curls absentmindedly.
The second you started scratching lightly at his scalp, Michael's eyes closed.
A content sigh escaped him.
"Mmh right there mama.."
You smiled immediately. "Where baby?"
"Mmh..." His head tilted slightly into your hand. "There." Your heart melted.
You loved how comfortable he was with you. How he never hid when he wanted affection.
How he trusted you with every soft part of himself. You carefully combed your fingers through his hair again. Michael practically melted beneath your touch.
"Mmh...that feels so good." he murmured.
Then his hand found yours. Not to stop you.
Just to hold it.
His fingers slipped around your wrist gently, guiding your hand a little higher into his curls. "Right there, baby." You laughed softly.
"Oh, you bossy." His eyes remained closed.
A smile tugged at his mouth. "M'not bossy, baby."
"You absolutely are." You clapped back.
"Mmh..." He sounded far too relaxed to argue properly. Your nails lightly scratched through his curls again.
then again, he mumbles—"There."
A pleased sigh. "That's nice." You couldn't stop smiling.
to be honest, you could sit here forever. Michael's thumb slowly brushed across your hand while it rested in his hair, Back and forth.
Absent minded Affectionate. Like he couldn't help touching you whenever you were near. His eyes opened slightly.
Just enough to look up at you.
And ugh.
That Beautiful look, That Completely in love look.
You leaned down and kissed his forehead. Michael's smile deepened instantly. Then you kissed his cheek. Then the tip of his nose. Which made him laugh quietly.
"Hey baby."
You laughed too. "Hi, baby." He looked entirely pleased hearing that.
His fingers intertwined briefly with yours before placing your hand right back where he wanted it.. In his curls.
"Mama." You brushed a curl away from his forehead.
"Yeah?"
"I love you." The words came so naturally.
So simply.. Like breathing.
Your chest squeezed.You leaned down and kissed him again.
Very Slow and Sweet.
The kind of kiss that made Michael smile halfway through it. When you pulled away, his hand immediately found your cheek.
Just holding it there for a second. Looking at you. Really admiring you, Like he never got tired of it. "I love you too." Michael's expression softened even more.
If that was even possible.Then he settled back into your lap again, completely content.
Your fingers returned to his curls.
few seconds later—"Mmh..." His eyes fluttered closed.
"There, baby." Your nails lightly scratched against his scalp, Another satisfied sigh escaped him.
His thumb continued stroking the back of your hand while he relaxed beneath you.
Not saying much now. Just enjoying you.
The kisses & the touches & The comfort of being together.
After a while, he lifted your hand from his hair long enough to press a gentle kiss against your knuckles.Then another.. Then he tucked it against his chest. Holding it there.
"Mama."
"Hm?" You laugh quietly.
A sleepy smile appeared on his face."You take real good care of me." Your heart nearly burst.
You bent down and kissed his forehead once more.
And Michael smiled without even opening his eyes, perfectly happy right where he was.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, cunnilingus, pussy drunk, yearning, coochie warming(lmao), sub!michael, whining, begging, hints of oral fixation, your own personal rose, thriller era!michael, somnophilia, overstimulation if you squint, absolutely no plot.
pairing: michael jackson x fem!reader
wc: 1k+
how could you resist him when he says things like this, while looking up at you like that?
“lay back in my tenderness, lemme taste you girl.”
“ i want to touch you all over, all over baby please I’ll be good for you”
“ i just wanna make you feel good, I’ll be good f’ you”
“lemme just feel it girl, need you on my tongue”
“It’s so cold in here baby, lemme keep her warm for you”
It starts the way it always does with him on his knees.
He's already hard before he even touches you, his cock straining against his jeans as he presses his face into the inside of your thigh. He breathes you in, deep and slow, like a man taking his first lungful of air. His doe eyes are half lidded, dark and glassy, his lips parted. He's not begging yet. Not out loud. But the way his fingers tremble against your skin says everything.
"Please," he finally breathes, voice hoarse. "Please, baby. Let me taste you. Just a little. Just—" He kisses the crease where your thigh meets your hip, tongue darting out to taste salt and warmth. "I need it. I need it."
You barely nod before he's burying his face between your legs.
Michael doesn't start slow. There's no teasing, no gentle buildup. He goes straight for your clit with the flat of his tongue, laving it in long, broad strokes that make your hips jerk. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, holding you open for him like you're a meal he's been starved for. And he has been. Every hour away from you is an hour of withdrawal, of craving, of counting down until he can have this again.
He moans against you, the vibration sending a jolt straight to your core. His tongue flicks faster, circles, presses flat, then flicks again. He's sloppy. Desperate. There's no technique to it just pure, unadulterated hunger. Saliva and your wetness mix together, dripping down his chin, and he doesn't wipe it away. He wears it like a badge of honor.
"Fuck," he mutters against your cunt, the word muffled by your flesh. "Fuck, you taste so fucking good. Sweet. So sweet. I could—" He stops talking because his mouth is too busy, too full of you.
He loses track of time down there. Minutes blur into hours. His jaw aches, his tongue cramps, but he doesn't stop. Can't stop. Every time you try to shift away, oversensitive and trembling, he tightens his grip on your hips and pulls you back. His nose presses into your pubic bone, his lips sealed around your clit, sucking gently at first, then harder, then letting go only to dive back in.
When you're in bed, he crawls under the covers without a word. You feel his hot breath against your inner thigh before his mouth finds you, half-asleep and warm. He nuzzles into your cunt like a man seeking comfort, lapping lazily at your folds until you're wet and sighing in your sleep. He falls asleep that way sometimes his cheek pressed against your thigh, lips brushing your clit, breathing you in. He wakes up hard, aching, and immediately starts all over again, licking you awake.
During the day, it's worse.
He'll pull you into the studio under the pretense of needing your opinion on a new track. The door clicks shut, the blinds close, and suddenly he's on his knees again. He shoves a pillow under him not for his comfort, but to get the angle right. His chin tilts up, his tongue out, waiting. Begging with his eyes.
"Just a taste," he whispers. "I'm stuck. I can't write. I can't think. I need—" He presses his forehead to your thigh, breathing hard. "I need your pussy, baby. She's my muse. She's the only thing that makes the words come."
And you let him. Because it's true. The moment his mouth finds you, the tension in his shoulders melts. His hands roam your ass, squeeze, spread, pull you closer. His tongue works you until you're gasping, your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips grinding against his face. He moans with every flick, every suck, every time your cunt clenches around nothing because his tongue is right there, pressing into your entrance, tasting your cream.
He comes in his pants without realizing it.
The first time it happens, he's so focused on your pleasure that he doesn't notice his own cock throbbing, pulsing, spilling into his jeans. The wet patch spreads warm against his thigh, and he only becomes aware of it when you're done, panting and limp, and he pulls back with a glistening chin. He looks down at himself, blinks, and then grins, sheepish, embarrassed, but also proud.
"Sorry," he mutters, but he's not sorry at all.
It becomes a pattern. Two pairs of jeans a week. Sometimes three. He starts buying cheap brands because he knows they'll be ruined. The laundry basket fills with stiff, stained denim, and he never complains. He just shuffles to the drawer, pulls out another pair, and gets back on his knees.
You have to push him away.
It's the only way it stops. When your clit is raw and swollen and every flick of his tongue makes you flinch, you press your palm against his forehead and shove. He resists at first, whining against your skin, trying to chase your taste as you pull back. "No," you say, breathless. "Michael. Stop."
And he does. But only because you said so. Only because your voice has that edge of finality that he can't ignore.
He sits back on his heels, chin wet, lips red and puffy, eyes glazed. His breathing is ragged, and there's a smear of your arousal across his cheek. He licks his lips slowly, savoring the last traces.
"Sorry," he says again, but his voice is thick. He's not sorry. He's already thinking about the next time, counting the hours until he can taste you again.
He crawls up the bed and curls against you, pressing his face into your neck. His hand is still wet, still slick with your juices, and he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean one by one. His eyes close. He's content. Sated. But only for now.
Because tomorrow morning, before the sun rises, he'll be between your thighs again. His tongue will find your clit before you're fully awake. His mouth will seal over you, and he'll hum in satisfaction, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst.
And he'll whisper, half to himself, half to you: "Not my fault you taste so sweet."
He says it like a prayer. Like a confession. Like the truest thing he's ever known.
(a/n: andddddd yet another old note turned into a mini fic posted, been thinking about how michael has the most insane case of ‘coochie pls🥺’ eyes I’ve ever seen for a long while)
public sex with zuko ends with a fire, thank god his wife is a water bender!
wc: 1k
was craving obsessed zuko but what's new | zuko masterlist | main masterlist
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Zuko was obsessed with his wife in a way that concerned everyone around him, even the same advisors who all but demanded he marry you since you were the only women he ever gave his attention to, ignoring his concubines that had been carefully hand picked for him.
So he did, literally one week later. The ceremony was small of course, just something sweet between the two of you and a few months later came the actual event. When you protested, stating it wasn’t necessary, the manchild you married crossed his arms and told you that you were a beautiful fool and of course he was going to take any chance he could to show you off.
He married the hottest woman in the known and unknown world and everyone needed to know that, just like everyone needed to hear him fuck you into a stupor night and day. The servants gossiped, your face would heat up in embarrassment and Zuko would grin with pride, telling you there was honor in your husband being so attracted to you that he could hardly go a few hours without being inside of you.
It’s not that you didn’t like it! You were on Zuko just as much as he was on you, leaving reminders on his neck and back of just how good he made you feel. Only you grew worried when he started neglecting his friends, claiming he was still in his honeymoon phase a year after your wedding and it was just too bad they’d have to wait until it was over.
When you’d finally convinced him to join his friends on a simple mission that would take less than two days, he made sure to let you know he’d be thinking of you the entire time. However when he returned a day late, he was absolutely furious as he kissed down your neck and stripped you of your robes. Ranting about how he’d nearly gotten into a scuffle with Sokka, who suggested time away from the fire nation was healthy but Zuko of course, took it as “time away from your wife is healthy” which couldn’t be further from the truth.
As far as Zuko saw it, he was healthiest when he was with you and Sokka was an idiot.
So to say he was annoyed when you surprised him with a trip to each nation with his friends, just an opportunity to bond with people you knew he loved, would be under-putting it. He instantly rejected the idea, claiming he was needed here by your side.
“No.”
You laughed at his tantrum and stood on your toes to kiss his lips before whispering in his ear. “What if I came with you?”
Needless to say, you were both currently in the outskirts of the earth kingdom, giggling like children as Zuko pulled you toward the woods, the only light coming from the moon. The trip had only just started two days ago but Zuko hadn’t had a moment alone with you since you left your kingdom, and he was growing desperate for a release.
Which is why as soon as he could, he was dragging you to a private area and bending you over behind a tree, his cock pounding into you so sweetly that you were seeing stars, your pants and panties dropped to your ankles.
“Not too loud, don’t wanna get caught right?” He laughed at your attempt to hold onto the tree and cover your mouth at the same time, even though he had to fight back several moans himself. This was so fucking filthy, Zuko would never fuck you outside in normal circumstances but desperate times called for desperate measures.
The way your pussy was dragging across his cock had your husband shaking with his impending orgasm. You were only going at it for five minutes but you had already come once and was nearly at your second climax and the world was spinning.
“Harder, fuck me harder!” You cried out, throwing your hips back against him and he was grunting like an animal as he gripped your hips tighter and started pounding into you at a speed that sent you over the edge.
“That’s it, love. You're doing so beautifully, such a good girl. Fuck, I love you.” You bit into your fist as your pussy contracted, squirting your juices all over Zuko and the ground. The feeling of his hands growing hot, his breath picking up and hips slamming sloppily into you, dragging it out just a few seconds longer.
“Fuck!” He cried out, loud enough that you heard his friends start to jump up asking what’s wrong.
Zuko was so gone he didn’t even realize, too busy shooting a fat load into his wife’s tight pussy, head thrown back and mouth open as he accidentally breathed fire. It was too much, cum spilling out and down your thighs. Zuko pulled you tight against him, hips twitching as he emptied the last of his load into you, grinding deep until there was nothing left.
“ZUKO THE TREE!” You yelp as you both fix yourselves, ignoring his friends running over and opening the water vial on your neck. You immediately manipulated it, expanding it and throwing it against the growing fire, cursing before pulling enough water vapor from the muggy air. You didn’t stop until you were sure it wouldn’t start up again.
When you were done you glared at your husband but he was already smiling sheepishly past you, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling you over and fixing your fallen tunic sleeve. When you turned, a few burnt leaves fell in your view until they passed and revealed a few very pissed off faces.
“Fucking seriously guys?!” Sokka screeched.
The next day, Zuko was content as ever, making sure to tell his friends just how much he appreciated them and thanking them for taking him in when they didn’t have to. He even softened up enough to admit he might love them and view them as a part of his family. No one mentioned of course, that the only reason he was saying this was because you were by his side, but the looks they gave each other said more than enough.
Zuko was totally whipped for his hot water bending wife.
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note: guys i haven't written for zuko in five days and i was lowkey tweaking tbh, had to cook up something real quick!
summary: you’re upset with michael for being away from you this past week. michael makes it up to you.
contains: established relationship, soft dom michael, reader is upset with michael, dirty talk, kissing, dry humping, oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, michael uses the names 'sweet girl', 'girl', and 'baby'
after a tiresomely long week working on his new album, michael could sense you weren’t content with him. he’d notice when you would pull away from his kisses too soon, when you’d turn your back to him at bedtime, and when you’d roll your eyes at the mention of work.
“we found our track, baby”, he said, making conversation with you, or attempting to, as you fluffed a pillow on your shared bed. he was under the covers and leaning his back against the headboard, watching you complete your nightly routine. you only nodded at his words, with a tight-lipped smile. “it’s thriller. d’ya remember the one i played for you a couple weeks back?”, he asked with his head tilted. he was trying to catch your gaze— like a puppy seeking attention.
you sighed.
although you were upset with him, you never wanted to make his accomplishments feel small. he’d been through so much to get to this point after all, and you weren’t going to be the one to dampen that. so you smiled and replied, “i bet you’re real happy about it, mike”, before shuffling closer to kiss his temple.
michael looked up at you as you pulled away, but you avoided his eyes. you reluctantly pull yourself away, moving to your side of the bed.
michael is still staring at you.
“baby, come here”, he instructed, quieter than his earlier tone. you move closer to him, deciding to sit on your legs as you face him. the position you’re in makes the satin nightdress you’re wearing ride up your thighs, which you don’t notice, but michael does. he brings a hand to the delicate lace edges of your clothing, feeling it between his fingers. you watch his big hand rest on your thigh as he brings the other up to your face.
“missed this pretty face,” he mumbled, tenderly caressing your cheek while scanning your features. he looked at you as if you hung the stars, like it was his first time seeing your face. and it might as well have been— because you hadn’t let him recently. not with how pushed aside you’ve felt this week. not with the late nights, and how the date you were looking forward to was cancelled through a call from his secretary.
you close your eyes, pulling away from michael’s touch, “we should go to bed”, you whisper. you don’t want to see his face, because you know it’d easily compel you. “look at me,” he said, and you blinked your eyes open, looking down at the covers beneath the two of you. he didn’t like that. “no, baby. look at me,” he repeated, using his index finger and thumb under your chin to guide you to look at him, where his gaze reeled you in. you unknowingly held a pout on your lips from michael's gentle touch. you missed him so, so much.
“my girl. i know i’ve been busy this week,” he spoke gently. “i promise, i just need another week. i’ll be here more when the album’s done”, he looked to you hopefully.
instead, you rolled your eyes at him, huffing, “mike, you know that isn’t true. you’ll be busy for the next month with the album coming out, and i’ll have to wait for you then too”. you crossed your arms over your chest. michael’s eyebrows furrowed, and he put a hand on your arm, stroking the skin there.
“i know i’ve been gone recently, quite a bit—“
“quite a bit?” you interrupted. “this is the first time i’ve spoken to you in a week. we were meant to go out last night if you remember, michael".
“i know, i know i wasn’t here”, his face held a look of regret. “but baby, i can make it better if you let me” he said, inching closer to you. you took a deep breath, feeling his hand move up and down your thigh, waiting for your approval. you knew what he was asking.
“let me make it up to you. just say the word, sweet girl. ‘m right here”, and you wish you could say no. you wish that you didn’t want him right now, and that his touch wouldn’t make you feel better. that you could hold out and punish him just a little. but your body betrayed your mind before you could protest, head nodding once, so small that anyone else would miss it, but michael didn’t.
he took your green light and kissed your lips, pecking once. he then kissed your jaw, before moving down and leaving small kisses against your neck, his hand on the back of your head, unmoving to keep you exactly where he wants you. he hadn’t realised how much he needed you until he lay you down and felt your thigh brush against his crotch. he was aching already.
“baby, baby, i’ve missed you. missed my girl so much… missed everything,” he almost whimpered, while kissing down your neck, “thought about this every night. holding you, kissing you, loving you— i can’t be away from my baby any longer”. you bit your lip at his confession, feeling your wetness start to pool in your panties.
“show me, michael. wanna see how much you missed me”, you put a hand on his bicep. he nodded, kissing your stomach once, before pushing your dress up. just as you were about to pull your underwear down for him, he put a hand on yours. “nuh uh. i’m keepin’ ‘em on”, he stated, and you could feel your core tighten, “let michael do all the work”.
you nodded at his command, immediately withdrawing your hand and using your elbows to support yourself as you looked at him. you had always liked how he knew exactly what he wanted to do with you. like he’d been playing it out in his head for days.
michael removed his pants, and you spread your legs, waiting eagerly for his next move. you could see his print through the white boxers he wore, his palm feeling his length through the material. you could hear a shaky breath leave him, a dark spot of pre-come starting to taint his garments. he was a sight to see.
it started to feel like torture not having him near, so you reached your arm out for him, and he obliged, towering over you so that he could be closer. he used one arm to keep himself up, and the other continued its movement on his crotch.
“mike, let me feel you”, you almost whine at your boyfriend. he was all too slow for your liking, and you had to feel his touch now. you tugged him towards you, and michael craned his head down to kiss you slowly.
that’s when you felt it. his hard crotch against yours. you were sure you could’ve created electricity with the intensity of the feeling that travelled through your body, having not felt him for what seemed like eons. michael adjusted himself in his underwear so that you could feel him better, grinding his hips up once. you moaned, while he pulled back to watch your reaction, not blinking as if he was afraid to miss anything by closing his eyes for even a second.
“feel good, sweet girl?” he asked, and all you could do was nod your head. the sound of his voice, so worn out from grinding his clothed cock into you, was making you slip further into the feeling of him all over you. and he was— his hands, his lips, his warmth; all you could feel was michael. you’d long forgotten about your dispute.
michael couldn’t help but give in to the feeling, sensual grinds making both of you groan in pleasure. you felt so blissful that you unknowingly began to grind your hips up, forcing a surprised moan out of michael. his eyes shot open, down to your hips, before he used one of his big hands to hold you in place. he kissed you once and then shuffled back, sitting on his heels to inspect your clothed cunt.
his eyes were close to wild as he looked up at you, smiling, “you’re really turned on, aren’t you, baby? i can see it through the fabric”. you wanted to wipe the smug look off his face so desperately, but the idea left your mind when he used a thumb to feel your clothed clit. it was different to his cock, his thumb expertly pressing right where you needed it. it felt so good that your hips started to chase the pleasure, grinding up against his hand. but michael quickly shut that down before you could get carried away, and his hand went to splay against your lower stomach, giving you a knowing look. “‘m not gonna tell you twice”, he said, his voice strict.
you bit your lip, fighting everything in you to not just flip him over, remove the layers between you two, and ride him. it doesn’t help that he looks so beautiful the way he is now, skin glistening under the light of your lamp, cheeks flushed red, with loose curls falling to the front of his face. he looks best like this, you thought.
michael was on his stomach now, your crotch directly in front of his face. he was so close that you could feel the warmth of him against your inner thighs. it was almost embarrassing, despite him being in this position many a time, but you couldn’t close your legs to hide, even if you wanted to. michael had a firm grip on both of your thighs, spreading your legs apart as if you’re a meal he’s waiting to devour.
he licked his bottom lip and then kissed your clothed pussy once. your clitoris was throbbing beneath your underwear. he kissed it again, and again, until you started to squirm beneath him. you knew better than lifting your hips again for more friction. michael rewarded your patience by using his tongue to lick from the top of your nub, down to the bottom of your pussy.
it wasn’t long before he was licking and kissing you feverishly through your underwear, teasing himself by not pulling your underwear to the side and tasting you properly. each lick had you pushed further into the mattress, writhing in his hold. despite the barrier, you felt the heat rising quickly between your legs and the blood rushing to your crotch— but before you could cum, michael pulled away. the height of your orgasm fell just as quickly as it rose.
you groaned, at a loss for words from him taking your orgasm away. but before you could call out his name to complain, he was removing both of your undergarments, until the only thing separating the two of you was michael’s patience, which was wearing thin.
his cock was hard and leaking before you, and michael was throbbing and twitching at the sight of your glistening folds. you could tell he was so close to giving it to you. you just needed to push him over the edge.
and so, you mewled a “michael…”, and suddenly, he was lining his heavy cock against your pussy. with a lip tucked between his teeth, he pressed against your entrance, just to feel the wetness. he grunted, feeling your slick coat against his tip, you were so eager to feel that you were clenching, and he could feel it.
“don’t do that, girl,” he panted, “i won’t last”, and yet he felt you do it again. you breathed out a laugh, watching michael’s eyes flutter shut from the smallest touch of your pussy.
before you could clench a third time, michael started to push himself into you. you quickly held onto his arm, his cock filling you up just as your cunt pleaded with him to. he was big inside of you, and you were clamping down as if to pull him in further, while you both moaned in unison. michael subconsciously put one hand to your breast to massage it while he moved, giving you more with each thrust, until he fully bottomed out. he uttered your name, whining at the sensation of your wetness soaking his length.
michael was much stronger than you, and yet, when he was inside of you, he turned into jelly. as if all his brain was wired to do was please you. he kissed your lips, hungry, pushing his tongue into your mouth. you were both falling apart at each movement. the slow slide of his hips forced you to feel every ridge of his hard cock, which you were whimpering at. each thrust was an apology, and he was desperate to get you to forgive him.
“‘m sorry. sorry baby, i’m so sorry. shouldn’t have left you all week” he was choking over his words now, mumbling his apologies, “wanted you every day. wanted your pussy, wanted to be in it. ‘m sorry. d’ya feel good? please baby, tell me it’s good”. you could only nod at his confession, your hands tangled in his hair, trying to conjure up anything to say to him, but all that came out were chants of his name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he adjusted his hips, sitting back to thrust upwards. he was massaging against the perfect spot inside of you, and you knew that when you felt his finger on your clit again, you weren’t going to last much longer.
“mike— michael, give it to me. need it”, you urged, reaching for his free hand. michael took your hand, placing a kiss on it so softly that you almost forgot the position the two of you were in. the loud sound of his length plunging into your wetness reminded you.
“where d’ya need it?” he asked, barely able to get the words out as your pussy convulsed around him. and when the words “inside of me” left your lips, michael couldn’t wait any longer. he kept going, the thumb on your nub relentless now, his cock ready to blow. he watched your eyebrows knit together, and as soon as he felt your pussy contracting, he started to fill you up immediately. he was mumbling apologies, holding himself deep inside of you, giving you all of his cum.
panting, michael pulled out of you, and you could feel the fluid leak down your skin. michael leaned back to take a good look at the mess he had just made, using two fingers to hold your pussy lips apart. his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. “it’s still clenching”, he said, while his thumb gently felt your sensitive clit, causing your legs to jolt involuntarily. “sorry baby. wish you could see, it’s askin’ for me. d’you forgive me, sweet girl? will you let me taste you again?”
(18+) 𓈒 ݁ ݂ imagine getting to be with michael backstage after his grammy performance in '88—his hair all frizzy and poofy, his body physically shaking from exhaustion, and his skin glistening with beads of sweat. he was gorgeous even when his body was beat and weak, it was so unfair.
you & him would be sitting all quiet in his dressing room, michael's quick panting being the only sound in the room. you came closer to help him with taking off some of his dripping makeup, smiling up at him while doing so. he'd attempt to take a few deep breaths, only for a few small coughs to conjure up in his throat.
after a few moments, he began expressing his disappointment in the event. not a single grammy for his new album that he put his own blood, sweat and tears into—it hurt his heart. and as his girlfriend, it hurt you even more to see your gorgeous man have to endure such a terrible emotion.
so, in an attempt to cheer him up, you decided to intervene. you interrupted him mid-rant, planting kisses on his cheek as he continued speaking. he smiled and shrugged off the first few kisses, but you grew hungrier and needier. your mouth travelled from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, and finally atop his moist lips, cutting him off from speaking completely.
he ultimately gave in, looking at himself in the standing mirror while you began to kiss his neck. his skin was still damp with sweat, but it made the action even hotter. he bit his lip watching you go to work in the mirror, his hands finding their way to your soft hips. your arms were thrown around his neck, your mouth feeling sweet as ever against his body. you roamed his neck slowly, your mouth being able to feel the small curly strands of hair slicked down to his skin.
he groaned under his breath, his loose ponytail beginning to slowly slip out of its shape, his hair sooo fucking close to being fully down. you made your way back to his lips, your tongue being given the freedom to roam around in his mouth. he returned the favor as well, your tongues intertwining and sort of making love in their own special way so to speak. he pulled away for a moment just to chuckle at himself, immediately pressing your mouths together once more.
he tried to speak during the kiss, but it turned into muffled nonsense. you pulled away, cocking an eyebrow as a small 'hm?' released from your chest.
"what i tried to say was," he giggled, tightening his grip on your hips, pecking your cheek a final time. "i love you."
you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, before starting up the smooches all over again. he clearly had forgotten about those pestering grammys.
had this tiny thought while rewatching the performance for the 100,000th time UGH he looked so gorgeous all exhausted and tired. needed this real bad ><
contains: thriller!era mike, semi-fluff, smut (minors dni), cunnilingus, edging, teasing, michael being a freak, michael being mean, michael keeping your panties bc again he’s a FREAK, proofread, uhhh first post what’s up
If you enjoyed pls like n reblog!! I’ll do a part 2 if so :3
requests are heavily encouraged!
bestfriend!michael who you’ve been by his side before everything got loud, before his name was in every conversation. You were easy to find whenever his world got too overwhelming, being brought back to a relaxed state from just your presence alone. He’s been the same for you, always knowing when you need a distraction from your own problems simply from taking one look at you. It’s a silent language you both speak.
bestfriend!michael who sometimes wonder what he did in his past life to be blessed with a best friend who’s patience and understanding is out of this world, where you never argued when he couldn’t squeeze hanging out with you in his already busy schedule. It’ll at times be weeks since the last time you saw him, but your guys bond is still held strong. His schedule is out of his control, you can’t change that even if you tried. However, on days he can’t visit, he’ll never end the night without hitting up your line to chat about each other’s days before sleep hits the both of you.
bestfriend!michael who’s close friendship he had with you made you hear the same question be asked to you over the years.
“Are you guys anything more?”
You remember the first time hearing something similar, when you guys were only kids. Your older sibling teasing you, asking if that’s your new boyfriend, and you still remember your reaction. You immediately shook your head with a grossed out expression, responding with giggles: “No, never!”
Now? You don’t know if you can say the same answer.
Over time, you felt your eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. Heading into your guys’ early 20s, you started to notice things that undoubtedly left your cheeks flushed. When did his mindless touches to your shoulders, hands on waist to move past you, or ruffling your hair to be an ass leave you holding your breath? When did him sitting next to you during your guys many movie nights at home have you fighting the urge to scoot a little closer, so close your fingertips would graze his resting on the cushions, longing for his touch?
When did your eyes had a mind of its own as it traveled down to his soft lips as he spoke to you, thinking of what it would feel like if you closed the distance between his and yours?
And when are you going to start to realize he’s been having those same thoughts about you as well?
bestfriend!michael who for the past few weeks has been driving you crazier than you would like to admit. There’s been a shift in your guys’ dynamic, starting to pick up hidden intentions in Michael’s actions and words.
A swipe of his thumb to get rid of a crumb sticking too close to your lip when you guys grabbed lunch, ignoring the fact that there are plenty of napkins to instead offer on the table.
Catching his eyes on you through the living room mirror you’re using to fix up your appearance, not missing the way they check every curve on your body as quick as he thinks he’s being.
Being Invited to join him during an event, a fun first time experience for you that he’ll happily make happen. You missed the way his breath caught in his throat when you came down the steps after an hour of getting ready, your gussied up appearance a sight he’s never seen before until now. You caught yourself at a nearby mirror and overthinking thoughts started to flood your mind, asking out loud to yourself if you should change something up about your hair or wear a completely different dress.
“You look gorgeous.”
You slowly peered over your shoulder, how naturally the compliment rolled off his tongue like he’s been meaning to say it for the past few minutes. He’s quick to play it off after how you reacted, rolling his eyes. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Now c’mon, we’re gonna be late.”
He’s testing that best friend label you guys have, and he isn’t careful anymore about it. Now he’s just waiting when you’ll join in.
bestfriend!michael who sits at his desk, writing lyrics for his new album the second it comes to him and crumbling up any that doesn’t sit right with him anymore. Doesn’t matter he just got back from the studio almost an hour ago, back to working in his room as his mind is still racing with ideas that could or could not work. He isn’t alone, you sitting on the bed as his company for the night. You insisted on coming over, not caring to hear how he’ll still be working and it would be boring to stick around, to visit another time.
Michael places a few papers onto the bed without ever looking. “Tell me your thoughts on those.” You go to pick them up, reading each line with a small smile on your face. It was your favorite how much Michael values your opinion on things he does in his life, being the first he comes to for advice. One of them being his lyricism, knowing you won’t hold back on your thoughts if they rhyme or if they’re too cheesy.
One line made you giggle quietly, but he heard it nonetheless. He looks over, eyebrows knit together. “What?”
You shake your head, having your hand cover your smile that threatens to grow. “Nothing, nothing, just— ‘girl I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try?’”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Find it hard to believe, is all.” It wasn’t uncommon for you two to mess with one another, it comes with being best friends with anyone. That’s how you would’ve excused your response, but it was a clear attempt to start something. Something that goes beyond being playful with one another.
He raises an eyebrow, standing up to snatch the papers out of your hand with a scoff. “Oh yeah?” First butterfly to flutter in your stomach. “It’s okay, wasn’t expecting you to, anyways.” He finishes saying with his back towards you again, stacking his papers all neatly.
“Oh good, because we’d be here all day.”
You saw him stop stacking, perking his head up. He not only faced you again, but walked over till his knees bumped the edge of the bed.
You saw a glint in his eyes that made the butterfly in your stomach to flutter a second time.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re wanting me to prove you wrong.”
Oh, was it that obvious?
Your mouth went dry, staring up where Michael stands who doesn’t even look like the best friend you’ve grown up with. Someone who looks like they’ve been holding back their desires that’s been getting too loud inside of them the second your guys’ closeness took a shift. Someone who’s been clinging onto strength that gets thinner each passing day they set their eyes on you.
Someone who’s been waiting for the other to grant them permission this entire time.
“I’d say prove me wrong, Mike.”
bestfriend!michael who for the past three minutes has his lips travel all across your skin besides where you want it to land the most, feeling his smile due to every squirm and whine you can’t hold back.
He scatters the gentlest kisses down your neck, starting from a sensitive spot he discovered behind your ear, leaving nips in between then soothes it with his tongue. You had your neck craned to the side, giving him as much room as you could allow to paint your skin in hickeys like a blank canvas, hickeys you won’t find yourself worrying to conceal until the very next morning.
Until you squirmed again, lolling your head back forward to catch his lips with yours in another desperate attempt. He once again denies, a soft chuckle at your face screwing up in frustration.
“Please, Mikey..” His nickname that you’ve claimed for him since you were kids leaves your lips, and he couldn’t help but to fully pull back with a more audible laugh, rubbing his thumb across your cheek.
He goes to lean in, having you believe he’ll finally kiss you, but his lips just stops short from yours with a smile. “I hear ya, girl.”
Michael has the kisses go lower, and lower, immediately making you forget being mad at him again for denying your lips to meet. It travels down the valley of your chest, one of his hands bunching up the fabric of your shirt so it can smoothly continue down to your stomach. He revels in every shiver he pulls out of you, every squirm, every soft moan you try so hard to resist to but fail miserably. You didn’t want to prove his point this quickly, too stubborn for your own good sometimes. And he knows this, so he’ll spare you the embarrassment and won’t comment on your little noises until much later.
You feel a gentle tug at the waistband of your pants, but it was to only grab your attention. You pick your head up to meet his eyes, who’re silently asking for permission. You nod, a little too eager, and he hooks his thumbs underneath to slide them all the way down.
You feel the cool air hit your damp panties, tinted pink rising to your cheeks at the realization settling in on how wet you’ve been since this started, especially just from him kissing all over you. You see him bite the bottom of his lip, holding back a tease, starting to slowly disregard the cloth that loosely stands between him and your cunt.
You caught from your half-lidded eyes him pocketing the material, but you don’t get a chance to comment as he lets his breath fan against your cunt, causing your hips to jerk up. He holds your legs open, fingers digging into your skin unapologetically.
He covers the inside of your thighs with bite marks, aiming to have you jump each time his teeth caught skin, then soothing the slight pain with his tongue. You truly couldn’t wrap your head around in the situation you’re in right now, how this all unfolded with innocent banter. Or so you’d like to excuse it as being and nothing more…
You were barely given any time to grab a fistful of his hair the second he stopped the bites and pressed his mouth to your soaked cunt, grip on your thighs now bruising. A broad, heavy stripe is licked up the length of your cunt before he takes your clit into his mouth and rolls it hard between his lips.
There’s nothing slow in the way he devours you, a complete contrast to his kisses earlier before. It’s seeping with hunger he’s been carrying for days, longtime yearning, and need. Every sound he makes against your cunt is shameless, has you tugging and gasping but he never relents for a second.
His tongue fucks into you, and you tried to chase for more, hips going to grind up into his mouth. However, he responds by tightening his hold, thumbs digging harder into your thighs to hold you down. Never giving you an inch of space to breathe, having you take every tight swirl of his tongue on your pearl, every deep suck that pulls cries from your throat you never thought you could make until now.
In the midst of his tongue working rough, precise strokes, his nose starts to nudge juust right against your clit that has your hand slip from his hair to now twist into the sheets. His eyes fluttered open to look at the way you let out a choked moan, legs trembling on either side of his head, and he knew what it did to you.
“Fuck, you’re—“ but the words barely formed as you get lost into another breathless gasp, Michael nudging his nose more firmly up against your clit with purpose this time.
The pleasure starts to blur into something more sharper, every muscle in your body seizing tight as the world narrows to the heat of his mouth, taking you to what you think will be the rush of your orgasm.
But it abruptly stopped. The heat of his mouth no longer swarming your cunt, instead met back with the coolness of the air. You snap your eyes open, hips still chasing for a feeling that’s been long snatched away. You have yourself be propped up lazily with your elbows, greeted with a shit-eating grin you so badly wanted to slap right off of him.
“W-What is wrong with you?” You spatted, every nerve on your body feeling like it’s on fire from the intense edge you just had to endure.
Michael wipes your slick clean off from his mouth with the back of his hand, the calmness written all over his face in regards to your frustrated one almost laughable if anyone else were in the room.
“Now, what were your thoughts on that lyric again?”
manager! Michael with glasses like hello!!! Like imagine him gazing at you through his glasses, reading scripts or lyrics together, maybe him looking over your shoulder as you piece a song together and he’s so close AGHHANSJ
the most frustrating part is that michael doesn't even know how attractive he is with his glasses. much like how it took him two or three eras to realize he was sexy (sexy enough to get away with thrusting into the air and pressing his hips down onto the stage, at least), it takes him a while to grasp that you find him hot with glasses on. to him, sliding his glasses off and tentatively tucking the end of one arm between his lips is simply a childish thinking habit. to you? it's not just eye candy, it's eye cake, eye ice cream, eye "that expensive dessert off a fancy menu that you can't pronounce but absolutely adore". or maybe it's more similar to the main course, considering how much you also love what comes after: watching michael put his glasses back on. he's mastered the flick of the wrist, oftentimes using the quick motion to unfold his glasses' arms before he slides them back onto his face. then he'll look to you, curious as to why you're staring, completely unaware of how he'd basically given you a free show.
not to mention all the times he'd lean over your shoulder. a soft breath escapes his lips as he murmurs a small "let me look" while you work on a song's chords or lyrics. michael gives a quiet hum, pointing to a certain section and offering his advice, but all you can focus on is how his glasses slip down the ridge of his nose, settling down at the very end.
"you listening?" he asks, nudging you with his shoulder, "i don't talk just to hear myself speak, y'know."
you blink, dragging your gaze away from his glasses and nose upwards to his eyes, which are already focused on you. "sorry, sorry. say it one more time?"
he shakes his head, black hair shimmying as he does so (the combination of his glasses and his hair is almost too much. he wants to distract you, doesn't he?). "i was just saying that..."
worst of all is how he looks at you with his glasses on. how he peers at you overtop of his lenses when they slide down his nose. how he smiles with his eyes every so often from across the studio, a silent praise of a sound done properly or a lyric that's exceptionally impactful. "look at me" has become your least favorite phrase to hear from michael, only because looking directly at him makes everything so much worse.
"is it the color of my glasses?" he asks suddenly one day while lounging on your couch. another studio session ended, another night where he'd invited himself over to your place because his house is "too quiet" when the kids are with his ex-wife. that might've been the reason when he first came over, but these last few times? you're not so sure. "is it the shape? what don't you like about them?"
you tilt your head from where you sit on the other end. you and michael's feet meet in the middle even with both your legs curled, and every couple of minutes michael taps your foot with his. "what do you mean?"
"you know what i mean. you don't like looking at me when i have them on. but, you also stare when you think i'm not looking," he says, "i can get different glasses, if you hate these ones."
"i don't hate your glasses, michael," you chuckle a little, "it's the opposite. i find them... dashing, let's say."
"dashing?" he repeats. after a pause, he lets his foot bump against one of your own, "elaborate."
"dashing. handsome. attractive. some might even say sexy."
he turns to fully face you, a small smirk growing on his lips, "so you think they're sexy?"
you shrug, "some might say it."
he lets out a short, breathy laugh, tucking some of his hair behind his left ear. "right. so it's just dashing to you, my appearance with my glasses on. noted."
"exactly," you reply, feigning casualness. "i'm sure you have moments when you think i look dashing, too."
michael's response comes all too quickly. "oh, i do." he's being just as flippant as you are about it, pretending that all musical stars have this sort of conversation with their manager.
"elaborate?" you tilt your head towards him, and suddenly the casualness is much harder to fake. was it ever not serious, you and him along this couch?
"no further comments," he declares, flashing a cheeky grin.
...it's far more frustrating when he knows he's sexy than when he doesn't.
him with his glasses slipped down his nose + fidgeting with his wedding ring (which he has yet to take off, even while flirting with you...). i am sickkkk i love him. i also feel very strongly that it takes michael a minute to realize ppl find things abt him sexy... what's very obvious to us is like a revelation to him. i just know when you tell him he's like, "really, you find that sexy?". and then to tease he adds, "wow, your bar's low". smh my head i need him.
okay but imagine dancing with !m.jackson at studio 54. sweaty bodies are everywhere, and the music is blaring unbelievably loud, but you and michael are lost in each other’s eyes and dancing like you are the only two in the room. he keeps on pulling you close and making out with you while dancing, and you giggle and keep on backing away. he pulls you close by your belt loops, looking you up and down while biting his lip, leaning down into your ear and whispering, “i can’t wait to take these off you later baby.”
🐆💋 — drunk dbf!michael, who ends up calling you in the middle of the night, too inebriated to care that he shouldn’t call you. you pick up, of course, voice groggy, wondering what’s going on. he feels bad for a second but it disappears once you ask if he’s okay. yeah, like he’s okay. he’ll lie and say yes, mumbling on about how he’s exhausted from being in the studio all day, but it was all a lie. well, sorta, he did go into the studio today but only to finish recording a song that will never get released. a song he made about you, his embarrassment taking over once realization hit him that he was singing sexually about his best friend’s daughter. yes, you’re an adult and you’ve probably done some things, but michael should know better. he’s not that much of a perv.
you try to ignore the feeling between your legs, michael’s using his natural voice, it’s so deep and sensational. he’s rambling, rambling on about life. all the while, you’re trying to keep your fingers from going under your night clothes and ease the ache in your pussy. you bite your bottom lip and come back to earth once michael asks you about your boyfriend. you don’t know how to answer, because how do you tell a man much older than you that he’s the reason why you’ve been staying away from your own boyfriend? that he’s on your mind at night and through the day, not your boyfriend.
of course, you don’t, you clear your throat and tell him that’s he okay. michael hums, the jealousy coming back like a little fire. he rubs his lips, wondering how long it will take for your boyfriend to end things between you. michael then begins to wonder what he can do again to finally be that wedge in your relationship. he can tell by your tone that you’re hiding something, because usually the minute michael brings up your boyfriend you can’t contain your excitement; no matter how exhausted you are.
michael will ask you if you’re sure, and you hum, scared to answer because maybe you’ll make a mistake in telling him the truth. which, you can’t afford to ruin the friendship you have with michael. michael tells you okay, and that you can tell him whatever you have going on in your pretty little mind. he’ll slip in a pet name, something he hasn’t done in a while before calling it night.
you lie there in your bed, fingers finding their way to your aching hole, sliding in and out as you try to think about your boyfriend. too bad you end up thinking of all the positions michael can put you in before you call it a night.
🐆💋 — dbf!michael who’s jealously seeps through his actions whenever your boyfriend comes around. he’ll hover over you more than your dad, under the guise of wanting to make sure you’re okay. he knows you’re okay, he just can’t let anything happen further when he’s around. a part of him dislikes the fact that your boyfriend is a big fan of his music but anything to keep him away from you, right?
dbf!michael, who spoils you rotten, sending you money for whatever. he knows you have everything you need usually, being the independent person that you are. the thing is, michael is obsessed with the way your voice gets whenever he sends you money. the guilt dripping from your tone, begging michael to take back at least some of the money but he doesn’t listen. telling you it’s okay, don’t worry your pretty head, spend the money or save it so he can add more to it later.
he also makes sure you’re at most of his concerts, front row, just so he can keep his eyes on you during most of it. dbf!michael makes sure he has dirty diana and in the closet on the set list, needing you to hear his breathy voice and slight moans. he has this hidden smirk and desire on his face, eyes locked on yours, making your heart beat faster. you swear it’s just the performance, but you know it’s more than that. the dreams of michael coming to you, touching your body, reappear. you tried so hard to push them away years ago, but how could you?
dbf!michael, who loves it whenever he takes you shopping, he’ll play it off to your dad and you that he’s just being nice, and yeah, he is but he really wants to see what you’ll pick out. he’ll follow you to the dressing room, standing outside, trying so hard to keep his boner down whenever you come out with something new. he’ll ask you in that soft voice of his to twirl for him, seeing the curves of your body peak out. you feel hot whenever he does that, whenever his eyes and attention are stuck on only you. he chews on his gum harder, licking his bottom lip, fingers playing with something on him cause he can’t touch you.
dbf!michael doesn’t mean to show off his awards and achievements, but he does, reminding you that your boyfriend can’t and will never compare. so many things he does, dbf!michael will remind you what a man is, and it’s definitely not your boyfriend. so, he’ll wait patiently, manipulating everything to his way, because he knows sooner or later your boyfriend will be out of the picture. you’ll cry to michael, be captured in his loving arms, and he’ll take good care of you.
❛ michael jackson!bad era 𝑥 𝒇!model reader ❜ ╱ 18+ mdni! not proofread...
𝒸ontent ⓘ continuation of this concept! after finding out about a campaign you did with michael’s rival through the front page of vogue, he can’t help but be a bit jealous.
“this is a big opportunity, this could make or break your career.” your manager spoke through the receiver of the phone. you stopped for a moment to consider, biting your lip in thought.
“fine.” your manager had gotten you a big high fashion campaign deal with another artist, and one that happened to have been michael’s rival. prince. you really had no choice, the team behind the deal wanted you, specifically.
the campaign wrapped about a week ago and you hadn’t thought much of it since. sure, the photos were beautiful. versace had flown the two of you out to milan, dressed you in ridiculous amounts of black silk and gold jewelry, and had you posed next to prince for three days straight. that was it, that was the job and nothing more. you had already moved on and to booking your next job, but michael apparently had not.
you noticed it immediately as soon as you got to his hotel suite in new york, where you had been doing some press for the campaign and he was working on some projects.
he was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other with an open magazine on his lap. you felt your stomach drop as soon as you recognized the cover “VOGUE” and specifically that issue, the one that featured your campaign. before you could even greet the man, he spoke first.
“so.. how’s prince?” he asked dryly, flipping a page of the magazine as if he couldn’t care less. unfortunately for him, the jealousy practically radiating from him said otherwise. you slowly approached him, setting down your bags.
“michael.” you sat down beside him, his eyes still glued to the page, which was a photograph of you and prince, sitting on a black velvet couch with his arms wrapped around you. “you’ve been staring at this magazine all week, huh?” you teased.
his eyes flickered to you for a moment, noticing the dark jealousy that clouded his expression. “i have not.” he tried to act unbothered, when really he couldn’t stand seeing this man’s hands on you.
“you know, it’s just posing right?” your eyes couldn’t leave his expression, the tension in his body as he gawked at the photographs and mumbled an ‘mhm’ in response.
“michael, you got an attitude.” you retorted, in which he looked at you offended.
“i do not.” “yes you do.” “i don’t.” “you do.”
you two went back and forth, until you confronted him.
“then why haven’t you been able to put this thing down and actually look at me?” your tone laced with annoyance now. you two really never fought but michael was stubborn and could never fully express how he was feeling, so you had to argue it out of him. the silence that followed your question was devastating because he had no answer, none at all.
“that’s what i thought.” you backed up and slumped back in the couch. you loved the man but holy was he a handful when he’s jealous.
“i just think it’s funny..” his jaw tightened.
“funny?” you asked.
“yeah,” your eyes rolled as you already knew where this was going, “funny how y’all look real comfortable.” he muttered.
you sighed and buried your face in your hands, “oh my goood.” you couldn’t help but laugh at this man’s words.
“what?” he looked at you confused now.
“you’re soo jealous.” you laughed in his face, which started to heat up with redness.
“i’m not jealous.” “you are.” “i’m not.” you two went back and forth again.
“you bought the magazine.” you confronted him.
“i buy magazines, so what?”
“you bought vogue.” he was silent for a moment because you knew him all too well.
“… that ain’t the point.”
you couldn’t contain your laughter, nearly falling off the couch while michael watched you with complete seriousness, which made you laugh almost even harder. you loved pushing your man’s buttons because he tolerated you so well.
michael huffed and tossed the magazine onto the coffee table, “you know what your problem is?” you looked at him in disbelief, but decided to hear him out.
“my problem?”
“yeah.”
you crossed your arms, “what’s my problem, michael?”
he gestured towards the ‘zine. “you don’t see what everybody else sees,” his confidence now deteriorated as a little flash of honesty escaped before he could stop it. his eyes dropped to floor. “you looked so pretty..”
your expression softened immediately while he shrugged, acting like he didn’t sulk over the column all week. “everybody keeps talkin’ about those pictures,” he continued, “about you and him.” the jealousy act was starting to make sense now.
because deep down michael knows you would never do anything, but he spent that time while you were gone listening to reporters and media hosts pairing you with someone else.
you sighed as you reached over to grab his hand, “michael,” he finally looked up at you and really looked at you this time. “there isnt a single person in the world i’d rather come home to than you.” the stubborn pout he had on his face finally starting to crack slowly.
“you sure?” he asked, which made you laugh again.
“yes, i’m very sure.” your fingers interlocked with his now.
“positive?” he continued.
“michael.”
“just askin’.” he babbled.
“must i prove it?” you asked, an intriguing look now covered his face.
“hm.. maybe.” he watched as you slowly slipped onto his lap, nowhere to keep his eyes but on you now.
you bit your lip, just a little, as his hands found their usual favorite place. your waist. slowly but surely, you placed a soft and airy kiss on his lips before they continued to move in sync. there was something about the way michael kissed you, all the pent up jealousy and ache from not being able to see you pouring into your mouth as his hands ran up and down your waist. shortly after, his sneaky hands moved down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass, giving it a squeeze. you moaned a little into his mouth with a smile as it caught you off guard, a satisfied smile earned from him as well.
your lips moved their way from his cheek to his jaw, hearing the tiny huff of air leave his mouth as he tried hard not to make noise while your lips kissed along his jawline to behind his ear, “look at my pretty baby..” you whispered tiny praises in his ear before giving his lobe a little tug with your teeth. you drove him absolutely crazy, his hips bucked a bit as he was growing impatient. he needed you, bad.
you sucked the soft skin on his neck for a moment, his tiny whines coming through every now and then as he massaged your ass as you continued moving down. he watched as he licked his lips, already knowing what was coming.
you were now kneeled in between his knees, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he watched in amusement, man spreading a little further to give you room. you unbuttoned his pants and pulled his layers off, your big eyes never leaving his. he loved watching you like this, holding eye contact with you while doing such acts.
he helped you by pushing some of your hair away from your face and holding it back for you with one hand as you took his erection in your hand, already dripping with precum, “my baby’s eager, hm?” you kept your eyes on him while your hand pumped up and down his shaft, your thumb running over the tip and teasing him. he nodded in agreement as his chest lifted up and down from the overwhelming pleasure of just your tiny hands.
“please, baby..” he whined under his breath, his free hand, gently gripping the cushions. a smirk crept up on your face as you licked up his shaft, barely licking the tip to tease him. you loved watching him struggle from the immense pleasure of your touch, because when you’re away from him he doesn’t even bother touching himself at all. he feels its not worth it if it’s not you who is making him feel so good.
you decided that was enough teasing, he already had to endure the torture of seeing you with his rival in close proximity and now that you’re here, you’re teasing him endlessly, he didn’t find that fair. your hands kept their pace at the bottom of his shaft as you sucked on the tip and continued down, his sweet moans filling the room. you’d gag every now and then which would snap michael out of his trance because your comfortability was always first. he caressed your glowing face with his free hand, his eyebrows knit in as he watched your head bob up and down his length, causing his dick to twitch in your mouth. by this point, your hands were rested on his knees while your mouth was doing majority of the work now. tongue swirling around his shaft as you puckered your lips and sucked his tip.
his head was thrown back now as he tried so hard to resist the urge to just hold your head and fuck your throat. his breaths were short and quick, moans turning into loud whimpers, this was how you knew your man was close to his release.
“yes angel- just like- ah! just like that.” he affirmed in a moan as your pace quickened, your tear filled eyes watching his face which turned you on so bad. watching him experience such pleasure could make you finish right there with him. his gaze returned back to yours as he couldn’t take much more, he bucked his hips into your jaw, thrusting into your throat as you moaned against his length. that was his breaking point.
with one last thrust, he groaned as his release shot to the back of your throat, swallowing it immediately. you bobbed your head a few more times to get every last bit before pulling off of his dick. his chest continued heaving as you licked your lips, making your way back up to kiss him again. he stood up from the couch while holding your hands to help you up with him before breaking the kiss momentarily to remove the rest of his clothing, helping you remove yours—leaving you in just your bra and panties, which he preferred anyways.
“you’re so perfect.” he spoke lowly as the lingerie decorated your perfect body. he had pictures of you like this hidden away in his wallet, just for his eyes only. a soft blush covered your cheeks, he always knew how to leave you smitten.
connecting your lips again, he held the small of your back and led you to the king sized bed, laying down as you hovered over him. your palms rested on his chest before roaming it. he loved the way your touch felt against his skin, it was something he craved daily whenever you were away. without wasting time, he unclasped your bra with one hand and tossed it to the floor, which caused you to giggle at how eager he was. he sighed as he took one of your breasts to his mouth while his hand massaged the other one, pinching at your nipple. you hissed in pleasure as you watched him, grinding your clothed core against his bare cock. his voice hummed in pleasure, slightly jerking as he was still sensitive from before. his hands and mouth switched places while yours gripped his shoulders, working yourself up as your hips continued.
“look at you,” he said in between kisses and sucks, “so needy for me, just me,” he continued, “not that guy.” you knew exactly who he was referring to. a part of you secretly liked when michael got jealous, despite how stubborn he gets, it makes him ten times hotter knowing that he wants to prove so desperately that you’re his only.
he removed his mouth and took a moment to take in the beauty that was in front of him, caressing your bare body before hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and slid them down. you helped him get them off, kicking them to the side before placing yourself back on his lap. he positioned himself at your entrance with some help from you, whining the moment the head barely got pushed in.
“i love you, i love you..” you cried out in bliss as your lowered yourself down onto him, his hands on each side of your hips to help you.
“i love you too baby,” he choked out, “sosososo much.” he moaned quietly.
your pace was slow at first, adjusting to his size since it’s been months since you two made love. both of your sinful noises filling each others ears as your softness suffocated him each time you lowered back down fully. the way he looked under you was something so satisfyingly beautiful as you gave into him. the way a few wavy strands of hair framed his face so perfectly. no matter what the tabloids said, or what the reporters or press said, michael was the only man for you.
your kept your pace up, hands rested on his chest while your nails gently dug into his skin—until he held you up, haltering your movement to buck his hips up into you, fucking into your cunt that dripped with arousal. he could tell you missed him by the pretty cries that left your mouth.
“fuck- don’t stop-“ you sobbed out as your head fell back, one of your hands moving to your breast to fondle with. the sight alone made michael want to fill you up right there. but instead, in a swift motion, he moved you onto your back and continued to relentlessly pound into you. he felt your erect nipples against his bare chest as he kept his eyes on you.
“who can fuck you like this, baby?” he managed while he slowed his thrusts momentarily to keep you needy.
“no one-“ you replied in a whine.
“ and who do you belong to, angel?” he continued while watching your expressions of pleasure.
“you- ah-“ your eyes teary from the knot building in your lower abdomen. michael could feel you squeezing around him as he would pull out terribly slow and thrust back in roughly.
“nah, what’s my name baby?” he licked his lips as he forced you to speak to earn your release. he wanted to hear you screaming his name and his only.
“mikey-“ you whined.
“uht-uh- what’s my name?” he pulled completely out.
“michael!” you cried out once again, a satisfied smirk plastered on michael’s mischievous face.
“good girl.” he praised before penetrating your needy hole once again, weaving your lips together in a passionate kiss. his cock stretched you as he continued his fast paced thrusts once again, giving his girl what she wants.
“cum in me- please.” you cut away from the kiss and begged in his ear as he held your legs from your outer thighs, pulling you in closer.
“whatever my baby wants.” he hummed. after a few more thrusts, he slammed into you one last time as the both of you reached your climax, filling you up the way you craved. the sensation causing you to buzz with your shaky legs wrapped around him.
you held him close as he throbbed inside of you while you two caught your breath. you couldn’t help but admire the way his dewey skin glowed from the orange sunset peaking through the windows. his eyes wandered your face as he placed on last kiss on your lips before whispering an ‘i love you’ and slowly pulling out of your warmth. you hummed against his lips, watching as he slowly stood up to find his jeans.
he flicked his eyes to his watch as he pulled them up and buttoned them, “we got a dinner reservation at 8PM, my love. i’ll go run a warm shower for you.” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead before moving to the bathroom.
you laid there for a moment until deciding to get up from the bed to follow him, “we could always share a shower and save some water?” he smiled at you with a small nip of his bottom lip at the idea before nodding in agreement.
“just don’t hog all the hot water.” he argued.
you snickered and lightly hit his back, “shut up.” climbing in as he followed after you.
you both got ready and got driven to the restaurant, michael never letting go of your hand the whole way there til you two got to your seats. the night was filled with good food, the most delicious red wine which he knew was your favorite, and shared stories. the whole jealousy fit completely dispersed from the air now.
content: It's basically just a lot of smut (so MDNI) - jealousy, orgasm denial, mock sympathy, praising, teasing, overstimulating, Michael being a soft dom, kissing, fingering, eating you out, fucking
summary: Michael grows increasingly jealous during a public event after noticing another man’s attention toward you. The tension builds on the drive home and finally breaks once you’re alone, leading to a private confrontation that reveals his possessive feelings and deep emotional attachment to you.
also u can imagine any of mjs eras. though i think his mature era matches this well
word count: 5000
Michael had been quieter than usual all day. At the charity event, no one else would have noticed. He smiled when expected, charmed every guest effortlessly, and carried every conversation with practiced ease.
But you knew him too well.
You noticed the tension in his jaw whenever a certain guest lingered too long beside you. The way his hand kept finding your waist throughout the evening, his fingers pressing just a little harder each time.
By the drive home, the tension was impossible to ignore.
“You’ve been quiet,” you said softly. “Have I?” The calmness in his tone only deepened your suspicion. After a long silence, he finally glanced your way.
“You seemed to enjoy yourself tonight.” The quiet comment made your stomach tighten. He was jealous. And the realization sent heat through you. The rest of the drive passed in silence.
By the time you reached home, your pulse was already racing. He said nothing as he led you upstairs.
Once inside the bedroom, he quietly shut the door. You barely made it two steps before his hand caught your wrist. Firm, certain.
The pull turned you toward him. Michael said nothing at first. He only looked at you. And whatever restraint he'd been holding onto all evening was gone.
"What was his name?" The question was low, controlled. Your brows drew together. "What?"
"The man you spent half the evening smiling at." His fingers tightened slightly around your wrist. "What is his name?" Realization bloomed. And before you could answer, Michael stepped closer. Close enough to heat roll off him. "You seemed very interested in whatever he had to say."
His hand slid to your waist, fingers spreading possessively over your side. Your breath hitched, and Michael noticed. His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting back to your eyes.
"Tell me." His thumb pressed into your waist. "Was I supposed to enjoy watching that?" The quiet jealousy in his voice sent heat rushing through you.
"Michael, I was just being polite." A humorless smile touched his lips. "Were you?"
His hand moved higher, settling at the back of your neck, his fingers threading lightly into your hair. Not rough, but possessive enough to make your pulse jump.
"Because from where I was standing," he murmured, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, "it looked like he had your full attention."
His forehead brushed yours. "And all night, I've been thinking about reminding you exactly who you belong to." The words sent heat through your body.
His gaze dropped to your lips. "Tell me I'm wrong," he whispered, his mouth brushing yours with every word. "Tell me you didn't notice what you were doing to me."
You opened your mouth to answer.
But before you could, Michael kissed you. Deeply, possessively. The force of it stole your breath instantly.
His hand tightened in your hair while the other held your waist firmly against him, leaving no space between your bodies. The kiss was hungry, claiming, full of all the tension he'd buried behind silence for hours. Heat rushed through you so fast your knees nearly gave out. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard.
Michael’s dark gaze lingered on your flushed face, taking in your parted lips and dazed expression. "God, you look so beautiful like this."
His fingers slid slowly along the back of your neck before his lips brushed softly against your cheek, then lower to your jaw.
"You made me spend all night wondering how quickly I could make you forget he ever had your attention," he whispered against your ear. He bit the spot right below your ear lightly, then kissed it. A sound of pleasure escaped your lips.
And a shiver ran through you. Michael noticed instantly. A quiet hum of approval vibrated against your skin as his mouth moved to your neck, leaving slow, deliberate kisses that made your breath catch.
“That's right,” he murmured. “Let me hear it.” You reached for him instinctively, clutching at his shirt.
He kissed lower, lingering just long enough to leave marks.
His hand tightened at the small of your back as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. "Look at me."
The quiet command made your breath catch. Before you could respond, his mouth claimed yours again - harder this time, hungrier.
His hand slid into your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wanted as he guided you backward. You barely realized he was moving you until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed. A startled gasp escaped you.
Michael swallowed the sound with a low groan, deepening the kiss. "Careful," he murmured roughly. His hand pressed more firmly at your back. And when your knees finally gave out, you sank onto the mattress.
Michael followed instantly, one hand braced beside your head while the other stayed firm at your waist, holding you exactly where he wanted you.
For a moment, he simply hovered over you. Breathing hard.
His dark gaze moved slowly over your flushed face, your parted lips, the hickeys already blooming along your neck. "So pretty all marked up for me." A rush of heat flooded your face. "But it's not enough."
His hand slid slowly down your side as he lowered himself over you, his lips trailing soft kisses down your throat, over your collarbone, lower and lower until they reached the bare skin of your stomach. The touch made your breath hitch. His fingers hooked beneath the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly as his mouth followed the newly exposed skin. Each kiss was slow, soft. Like he was taking his time memorizing every inch of you. When his lips reached the spot just below your bra, he finally pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.
For a moment, he simply looked at you. His dark gaze lingered over your body with quiet hunger. Then his mouth found your chest. The first kisses were soft. Almost teasing. Gentle brushes of his lips that made your pulse race with anticipation. But then they deepened. Lingering longer. Pressing harder. Until warmth bloomed across your skin and you knew he was leaving marks there too.
A quiet sound escaped your lips. Michael paused. "Tell me you love me." The words were low. Not a command, a need. As if after everything he'd felt tonight, he needed to hear it. His mouth returned to your skin, trailing another lingering kiss as he waited.
"I love you," you breathed, your voice shaky. He went still. Then slowly lifted his head. His eyes locked onto yours. "You love who?" The question sent your heart racing. He rose over you, one hand lifting to cradle your jaw. His fingers tightened just enough to keep your attention fixed on him.
"And look at me with those pretty eyes when you say it." Your breath caught. The intensity in his gaze made your pulse pound. "I love you, Michael." For a moment, he simply stared at you. And something in his expression softened. The tension that had been simmering in him all evening finally eased, replaced by something deeper. Something almost vulnerable. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek. A quiet exhale left him, almost like relief. Then he leaned down until his lips barely brushed yours.
"I love you more, Y/N." The whisper was soft. And then he kissed you on the lips again. Slowly this time. Deeply. Like he was trying to say everything he didn't know how to put into words.
His hand reached your chest, kissing you as he squeezed it possessively. Then his hand slowly slid down, all the way from your boobs to the top of your jeans. Without breaking eye contact, he unfastened them, impatience creeping into the motion as he slipped his hand beneath the fabric. Your breathing gets heavier as his fingers find your entrance through your drenched panties, slowly feeling it out. "So wet for me already?"
Your body went still for a moment, breath catching as the closeness of him overwhelmed you. It wasn’t just what he was doing in your pants - it was the way he was looking at you, his eyes full of love and lust for you. Hungry for you and only you. "Michael…" you whispered in need for more, your hands instinctively finding his wrists - not to stop him, but to anchor yourself. "You want more? So greedy." he says teasingly.
His long fingers started to rub you through your panties. Massaging your clit slowly, using enough pressure to make you hitch. Soft moans escaped against his lips, and Michael pulled back just enough to watch your face. His gaze traced every detail - the way your lashes fluttered, the way your lips parted, the way your breathing grew uneven beneath his touch. He looked almost fascinated by it, like he was savoring the sight of how easily he could undo you. He wanted to know how good he was making you feel as his hand slid under your panties, touching your clit directly now. He watched your reactions closely.
You can't help but moan softly and shutter under his touch. A quiet chuckle escaped him while looking at you with that dazed, lustful look. "That's right." he murmured, his index and middle finger moving in circles. "I bet he couldn't make you look like this even if he tried."
His two fingers started to move dangerously close to your entrance. "All that talking he did, all that trying to get your attention…" His voice dropped lower, his fingers slowing almost teasingly. "And still, this is who you’re getting off to tonight."
"Michael-" the protest barely left your lips before your words turned into a sharp gasp as he slid his two fingers inside you. He pushed them all the way in, to the deep sweet spot. Your whole body jolted, your fingers instinctively tightening around his wrist as your head tipped back for a second. Heat rushed to your face instantly, embarrassment and pleasure tangling together as the sound that escaped you was far louder than you meant it to be.
"What is it?" he asked softly, almost sweetly. "Too much for you?" The sympathy in his tone was obviously fake - teasing, amused, and somehow even more overwhelming because of how gently he said it.
Before you could force out a response, his fingers inside you started to move.
In and out.
Slowly at first, but still applying pressure in all the right places. You felt so weak under his touch, like you were melting into it.
His fingers gradually picked up speed. "And how about this?" His fingers slid deeper inside you, your walls desperately clenching around his long fingers as they filled you. The pleasure began to build deep within your body.
"Don't stop," you whimpered breathlessly.
Michael could feel the way you clenched around him, the tremble running through your body, how completely lost you were in the pleasure. Everything coming from you was real, raw, and he loved seeing this side of you.
The friction inside you was becoming too much. You could feel your breaking point getting closer.
"Michael, I-"
He noticed every sign your body gave him, every small indication that your orgasm was approaching.
"No. Don’t come until I say so, okay, honey?" He spoke in a soft, sweet voice just inches from your face.
Then he kissed your forehead gently as he sped up his pace again, making it even harder for you to hold on—to obey him.
And he knew exactly what he was doing. He loved watching you struggle beneath the pleasure. Your moans grew louder, your breathing uneven as he worked his fingers inside you without mercy.
"Michael, I can't… I can't hold it," you finally breathed out.
"Just be a good girl and hold it for me, okay?" Again, that soft voice. The contrast between his tone and what he was doing made you clench even harder.
"But I really can't anymore, I-"
Before you could finish, he interrupted. "You can. You’re my sweet girl, right? So just listen to me."
His other hand rested against your lower stomach, applying light pressure that only intensified the pleasure.
Your body felt completely out of control, but you still tried your best, not wanting to disappoint him.
But it was too much. You couldn't do it anymore. Your orgasm was dangerously close. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, trying weakly to slow him down.
He noticed immediately - in your moans, in the way your grip tightened, in the trembling that had taken over your body.
You were about to come. He couldn't let that happen. So he slowed his movements, his lips still pressed to your forehead. "Shh, shh. Not yet, my angel. I told you to wait, didn't I?" he whispered against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
Your hips moved subconsciously against his fingers, your body craving more.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it-"
He interrupted you again, pressing his thumb gently to your lips before sliding it downward.
"Shh, baby. It's okay. I know it's hard, angel. But you have to listen to me, understand?"
His other hand gripped your waist, squeezing firmly. You nodded, unable to look away from him, from the intense eye fucking situation you had going on now.
He leaned closer to your ear. "Good," he whispered. Then he leaned back, his hands moving to your jeans and slowly pulling them off.
After that, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to him.
"Let me see." His gaze dropped to where your panties still clung to you. The damp fabric stuck to your skin, outlining every detail and making your breath hitch under the intensity of his stare.
"So wet," he murmured to himself, his voice low with satisfaction.
His eyes lingered there for a moment before lifting back to your face. "Were you this wet when you were talking to him earlier, hm?" He waited for your answer, his expression dark and expectant.
"No…" At your response, Michael looked at you in a way that said everything without needing words. His gaze alone made it clear - only he could make you feel this good. And deep down, you knew he was right. Nothing compared to the way he touched you, the way he made you feel.
"Thought so," he said quietly. His eyes dropped back between your legs, drawn once again to the damp fabric.
Then he leaned closer. His lips brushed against your inner thigh, pressing soft, delicate kisses against your skin. At first, they were light - almost teasing.
But slowly they grew deeper, firmer, more deliberate. He was marking you again.
The closeness of his mouth, the heat of his breath, the way he stayed just near enough without giving you what you wanted most - it made patience nearly impossible.
Then he moved even closer to your panties. His nose hovered just above the soaked fabric, his breath warm against you.
Still not touching. Not yet.
Your hips shifted forward instinctively, desperate for more. A slow smile spread across his lips against your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly what he was making you feel.
"So impatient," he murmured, his smile widening as his fingers tightened slightly against your hips. "You really need my touch that badly?"
"I need you so bad, Michael. Please." The desperation in your voice made something dark flicker in his expression.
Without another word, his lips caught the thin fabric between his teeth, slowly tugging your panties down while keeping eye contact with you. The motion was deliberate, torturously slow, as though he wanted to savor every second of your anticipation.
When the fabric finally slipped away, his eyes lingered to the wet mess of a pussy. The hunger in his gaze made heat rush through your entire body. "Look at you," he said softly almost in awe, "so pretty and wet for me."
Then he leaned in, kissing your clit. The first kiss was featherlight, barely there, just enough to make your breath hitch. Then another. And another. Each one lingered longer than the last, his mouth teasing you with maddening precision. You trembled beneath him.
He glanced up, watching your face carefully, studying every reaction - the way your lips parted, the way your chest rose and fell faster, the way your body instinctively tried to move closer.
Satisfied, he let his tongue drag slowly upward, the warmth of it sending a sharp shiver through you. A helpless moan escaped your lips. Michael's eyes darkened. He repeated the motion, slower this time, deliberate enough to make every nerve ending light up.
Then his attention narrowed to only your clit, his focus sharpening as he became more precise, more intentional, every movement designed to draw another sound from you. Your fingers tangled in his hair near the nape of his neck. Your hips rolled forward instinctively.
A quiet chuckle vibrated against your skin. "Go on," he murmured. "If you need it that badly, take what you want."
He held still, his tongue waiting, forcing you to move against him. The desperation burning through you made your body obey before your mind could think. You moved your hips against his tongue carefully at first, then faster, chasing the friction, the pressure, the relief he was letting you earn.
Michael watched with dark satisfaction, his grip tightening. Seeing you so undone, so willing, pushed him past restraint. A low groan escaped him.
Before you could adjust, his hands locked firmly against your hips, holding you still. "Enough."
And then he took control again. The sudden intensity stole the breath from your lungs. His mouth moved with renewed purpose, no longer teasing, no longer patient.
The pressure built rapidly, wave after wave crashing through you until your body was trembling uncontrollably. He puts his fingers inside you again, the added sensation making your entire body tense. You were so close. "Michael-" your voice broke. "Please... can I-" His only answer was a low murmur against your skin. "No." The single word sent a shudder through you. "Hold it for me."
His voice was soft, almost affectionate, but his grip made it clear he expected obedience. And somehow, that only made the ache burning inside you even worse.
You clenched hard, every muscle straining to obey, while Michael looked up at you with quiet amusement. "That's it," he whispered. "Show me how good you can be."
This went on for another moment, until you couldn't take it anymore. Only one movement away from your release, your fingers tightened in his hair.
That was his signal to stop. "Not yet, sweetheart."
He pressed a few more soft kisses against your skin before lifting his head and turning toward you. Then he shifted, his crotch now close to your face.
"Come here," he murmured. "I want to show you what you do to me." Slowly, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. Even through the fabric of his underwear, the outline of his erection was impossible to miss.
Huge. Your breath caught. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled it down, revealing his hard, throbbing dick springing free right in front of you.
"See that?" Your eyes lingered on him, filled with hunger. "That's all you, baby." His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up slightly. "Open that mouth for me." The tip brushed softly against your lips. "C'mon," he said, his voice low and coaxing. "Taste it."
You obeyed immediately, parting your lips and taking him into your mouth. Slowly at first. His breathing hitched. "Look up at me." You lifted your eyes to his, and the moment your gaze locked with his, a dark smile spread across his face. "Good girl."
His hand moved to your hair, gently patting your head before threading his fingers through it. Encouraged by his praise, you pushed yourself further, taking him deeper and using your throat. A moan escaped him. "Fuck..."
His grip tightened slightly. "You’re doing so well, angel." His hand stayed resting on your head, guiding your movements as you bobbed slowly. Each time his tip brushed the back of your throat, his entire body reacted - the sharp intake of breath, the tension in his muscles, the way his eyes fluttered for a second. You loved watching him lose control. "That's it, my love," he breathed shakily. "Just a little more."
You took him deeper again, and this time his restraint slipped. His hand pressed more firmly against the back of your head, holding you there for a moment. A rough moan tore from his throat. "Such a good girl," he groaned, his voice uneven. "Taking me so well." Then, just as your lungs began to burn, he released his hold and let you pull back.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek as he watched you catch your breath.
He tapped your cheek lightly with his palm, a smirk playing on his lips. "So slutty for me."
Then he positioned himself between your legs, his heavy length resting against your pussy. A shaky breath escaped your lips. "You want this?" he asked, his eyes locked onto yours.
"Yes," you breathed. "Please. I need it inside me." His own breath caught sharply at your words.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" he murmured, lightly dragging himself against you before giving a teasing slap against your pussy.
"I'll make you come around my cock until you can't take it anymore."
The promise was whispered right against your ear, his voice low and dangerous as he slowly teased your entrance with the tip.
And then, finally, he pushed inside.
His eyes never left your face as he eased himself in, watching every reaction.
A loud moan escaped you. "That's right, baby," he murmured. "Let it out. Let me hear you."
He kept going until he was fully seated inside you, filling you completely.
The stretch made your entire body tense.
He was so big, forcing you to adjust to every inch, leaving you breathless as he buried himself deep inside. Your hips shifted instinctively as you tried to get used to the feeling. "God, Michael-" you moaned.
He started to move slowly, drawing back before thrusting deep again.
Each movement sent a shiver through your body. He felt incredible inside you, every thrust finding exactly the right places, filling you in a way that made your mind go blank.
His breathing grew heavier above you.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice rough and uneven. "You're so tight."
He pulled back again, slower this time, making sure you felt every inch before pushing all the way in once more.
The motion made your body shake beneath him.
"Just remember this moment the next time you see him, alright?" he said, his voice low and firm, making sure you wouldn’t forget exactly who you belonged to.
"Michael…" you moaned, breathless. At the sound of his name, Michael slowed his movements, his dark eyes locking onto yours.
"Say that again." The demand in his voice sent a shiver through your entire body.
"M-Michael-"
The second his name fell from your lips, he snapped his hips forward harder, faster, forcing a broken cry from your throat.
Your moans spilled uncontrollably into the air. Michael leaned down and kissed you. It was messy and desperate, your lips crashing together as both of your moans melted into the kiss. His mouth swallowed every sound you made, his breathing rough against your skin. Then he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush your ear.
"Say it again," he whispered, his voice possessive and dark. "Whose woman are you? Who do you belong to?" His thrusts stayed relentless, each one driving the words deeper into you.
"I belong to you, Michael," you gasped. He groaned softly, his grip tightening against your hips. "Michael who?" he demanded, his voice rougher now. "Jackson," you moaned, barely able to form the words through your shaking breaths. "Michael Jackson."
A satisfied sound escaped him. "That's right." He kissed the side of your neck, his lips lingering there before he spoke again. "You're mine. Every single bit of you." His voice dropped lower, sending heat through your entire body. "Don't ever forget that." The intensity of his words, combined with the way he moved inside you, sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you.
Your body tightened helplessly around him. You were dangerously close again.
"Michael," you whimpered, your voice trembling. "I’m gonna come if you don’t stop-" He cut you off immediately.
"That’s okay, honey." One of his hands slid down to press firmly against your lower stomach, intensifying every thrust. "You can come on my cock." His lips brushed your forehead, impossibly tender compared to the rough pace he was setting.
"Come for me, pretty girl." That was all it took. Your body gave in completely. The orgasm tore through you all at once, powerful and overwhelming, making your back arch as your walls clenched and pulsed around him. A broken cry escaped your lips as wave after wave rushed through your body.
Michael groaned deeply at the feeling, his head dropping to your shoulder. "Fuck…" His hand stayed on your stomach, rubbing slow circles as your body shook beneath him, only intensifying the pleasure.
He could feel every pulse around him, every involuntary tremor, the way your body gripped him so tightly it made his own breathing turn ragged.
"That’s it, baby," he groaned against your skin. "You’re coming so well on my cock."
And before your body had the chance to recover, before the trembling had even fully stopped, he started moving again. Slow at first. Making sure you felt every inch. As if he fully intended to make you fall apart all over again.
This time, he lowered his face to your neck, kissing it again as he continued thrusting into you.
"Michael, wait, I-" you gasped, every sensation hitting you intensely, your body still oversensitive from your last orgasm.
"Shh," he murmured against your skin.
"Just take it for me, okay?"
His lips moved slowly along your neck, leaving more marks behind. Each kiss only intensified the pleasure. And his pace never slowed.
Your nails dug into his back as he drove into you, hard and relentless, his mouth still working against your skin.
The overwhelming intensity built quickly. Too quickly. You could feel yourself getting close again.
Before you could even warn him, your body gave out. Pleasure crashed through you all at once. Another orgasm tore through you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving your mind completely blank.
You were left dazed beneath him, trembling from the aftershocks. A light tap against your cheek pulled you back. Your eyes fluttered open to find Michael watching you.
"You okay, angel?" he asked softly, his hand brushing over your lower stomach.
"Yes," you managed to breathe out. "I'm okay-"
A light slap landed right above your pussy, making you jolt.
"So dirty," he murmured, his voice low and amused. "Coming so much from my cock."
Then his hand moved to your hair, brushing it gently back from your face. He leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was softer this time, almost reassuring. When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against yours.
"You can hold out more for me, right, baby?" His voice was quiet, coaxing. And as he spoke, his hips began to move again, slowly. Making sure you felt every inch.
Both your breath and moans were shaky now. Each thrust sending you into a different dimension as he speeds up a bit. Your legs now both trembling from the intense pleasure.
"How does my cock make you feel, hm? Tell me." His voice was low and teasing as every thrust hit exactly where it made your body tremble.
"I-it feels so good," you moaned breathlessly.
A slow smile spread across Michael’s face. He bit lightly at his lower lip, his head tilting as he looked down at you with dark, hungry eyes.
"You’re so dirty right now," he murmured. "Drooling everywhere, can't even talk properly."
His thumb brushed softly across your cheek. "Just a whining mess for me."
Then he kissed you. Hard. His thrusts grew deeper, harder, making your body jolt beneath him.
The overwhelming pleasure brought tears to your eyes. Michael noticed immediately. "Shh, angel, it's okay."
He broke the kiss just long enough to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
"I know," he murmured gently. "I know, baby."
His hand brushed through your cheeky, wiping your tears, his touch impossibly tender compared to the relentless pace of his hips.
"You're taking it so well for me." Another orgasm was building fast, tightening through your body. Michael noticed the way your breathing hitched, the way your body clenched around him.
"Just hold on a little longer, my love."
His own release was approaching too.
You could feel it in the way his thrusts became needier, less controlled, his grip tightening against your skin.
"C'mon," he breathed, his voice rough now. "Come for me again."
That was all it took. Pleasure crashed through you all at once. Your body arched beneath him as another powerful wave overtook you, stealing every coherent thought from your mind.
And almost instantly, Michael followed.
A deep groan escaped him as the tension finally snapped.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
The pleasure was euphoric. It left you both breathless, trembling, completely undone. Michael stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled to steady his breathing.
His hand slid gently through your hair again, his touch soft now.
"That's it," he murmured quietly, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips.
"Good girl."
He stayed there for a moment longer, holding you close as the last aftershocks slowly faded.
The day had flown by faster than expected for you, looking down at your watch it was already going on 9:30pm. This was typical behavior for you, you were always the last person to leave the residence
Michael naturally trusted you with more than anyone else so he gave you more immunity. Anything that pertained to him was always ran through you first. You were in charge of his house staff, screening all calls, keeping up with personal documents, travel arrangements, transportation, and ensuring he arrived to every business meeting and rehearsal on time.
The reason why he had so much trust invested into you because you were one of the few people who genuinely loved him and never left his side during the trial. You were with him every step of the way and he never could repay you for the loyalty you possessed
As you packed up for the day it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t seen Michael all day. Normally he would come downstairs and bother you or he’d invite you to spend the day with him but today was complete silence. You carefully crept upstairs and knocked on his bedroom door
“Michael?”
Rummaging around could be heard but that’s about it, still you were concerned
“I’m coming in okay?”
Kicking your shoes off and leaving your purse outside the door you stepped into Michael’s bedroom. He was sitting with his back facing you seemingly in an uncomfortable situation
“Pinky i’m so embarrassed” his voice radiating from vulnerability
This was a common nickname he had for you because you always wore pink
“What’s wrong??”
As you stepped closer to Michael you noticed he had a pillow over his crotch. He removed it once you were close enough revealing his hard dick protruding through his blue striped pajama pants
“It’s been like this all day that’s why I haven’t left this room” he sighed “Pinky I really need your help”
You couldn’t help but to stare at it, it took a couple seconds before you pulled yourself away and snapped back into reality
“Right..” clearing your throat “I-I can call your physician and have a house visit arranged?”
“Not that kind of help”
Immediately you recognized what Michael was leaning towards. A couple of months ago the two of you shared an intimate moment together and despite Michael being an older gentleman he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life, so good to the point your back was hurting from the back to back orgasms you were having. Ever since that night it was harder not acknowledging the attraction the two of you had for one another
“Michael are you sure?”
“Just this one more time, please?”
He killed the lamp sitting on his nightstand as you crawled on top of him and began kissing down his neck before the two of you joined lips. Michael loved how your full lips felt against his skin. You could feel him running his fingers through your hair before landing at the back of your head and holding you in place as the two of you melted into the kiss. This wasn’t something fast paced or rushed but slow and intimate. It felt like the two of you were saying how much you missed each other without saying a single word
You loved the way he moaned in your mouth and often had to take a break because of the curse words slipping out, you were his one and only weakness
Breaking away from the kiss you removed his pajamas and revealing his hard dick. It was leaking from the tip and throbbing like it was begging to be touched. You grabbed the lubricant off the nightstand and carefully coated his shaft. Michael had his hands gripped into the sheets as he watched you play with himself. His breathing was heavy and slow
“Now I want you to watch me….as I watch you”
Michael followed your instructions and began to stroke himself as he watched you unhook your bra & expose your chest. The excitement in his face says it all, his eyes darting back and forth as you rubbed your breasts, caressing them before spitting on your nipples and watching them get hard
His chest began rising and falling faster watching you tease so effortlessly
“Can I suck on them p-please?”
Before giving in you grabbed one of your boobs and dragged your nipple across his mouth depriving him of his desires until he began whimpering. The moment he latched you bit down on your lip feeling the pleasures from his mouth. He continued to jerk off with one hand and use the other to hold your breast in place
“You better not cum before I tell you”
He didn’t give you a verbal answer so you pulled your nipple back making him whine
“Come on don’t do me like this” he begged
“Tell me what you want” you whispered in his ear as you ran your hand over his chest & sucked his earlobe
“Fuck” he murmured “I want you to take control..just like the last time”
“You want me to take care of you?”
“Yes pinky please”
You took over, freeing Michael from touching himself. Now both of your hand were preoccupied with the task of performing a two hand twist while you occasionally sucked on his balls. You watched every second of it and you loved it. Knowing that you were the only person who knew of his sexual desires and the only person capable of pleasing him
Every once in a while you teased him by running your tongue across his tip and sucking his precum off “You taste so good Michael…I love when you let me swallow”
“I wanna cum in your mouth and that pretty face of yours”
“Do you deserve that? Hmm? You’ve been teasing me for months and depriving me”
He began making various sounds and slight body jerks trying to resist the urge. Even closing his eyes so he could try to last longer
“I’ll never do it again baby it’s all yours”
“You fucked me back to back until I cried” you admitted “I haven’t even looked at another man since”
Your words of passion were like music to his ears, playing back that night in Paris. How innocent it started off and how hot things had gotten
“I’m cumming for you baby”
Michael opened his eyes and watched you stick your tongue out as his cum painted it white as well as your lips and the side of your cheek. His face flustered red and his mouth hung open as he let out a deep groan. His toes were balled up and fingers clenched even tighter into the sheets. But you still weren’t satisfied with that, so you sucked on his tip as he continued to cum into your mouth
“Oh dear g*d” he whimpered as he collapsed into the bed
Breathing heavy and tired Michael instructed you to come lay with him. He grabbed a napkin from his bedside and used it to clean your face off before the two of you began making out again
A/N: I kinda wanna make a pt 2? 👀 what yall think?
