-summary: based off of this request
-warnings: TW: sexual harassment (reader gets slapped on the butt), edging, fingering, spit swapping, i think that’s all
-authors note: i just realized im a slow writer and that’s fucking me up a little bit. but it’s cool cause these fingers is working. send more requests, i enjoy them. okloveyoubye
The last thing you wanted to do was continue interacting with your coworkers off the clock. Sure, most of them were nice enough and you had a few friends, but you were a firm believer that you cannot befriend people in work spaces. A good majority of the time it goes wrong; someone pretending to be your friend so they can have something to report to the manager they wanted to impress, someone being nice so you can take some of their workload, or in your case, someone being a total creep despite the entire world knowing you're married to Michael Jackson.
If it wasn’t clear from the tabloid pictures of the two of you, the giant ring on your left hand, and the weekly flower arrangements and gifts that would be sent to your job. Then Michael popping in during his rare free times to steal you away for lunch, or charming your boss to let you take a half day, or the smile that became impossible to hide around him should’ve made it easy to see: you’re a happily married woman. Unfortunately, you had failed to divulge this information to your husband, not wanting to concern him.
The only reason you had agreed to go was because you didn’t want to be home alone, missing your man. Michael was out in New York, you vaguely remember him telling you about meeting a director he was considering working with for his next short film, and that he’d be back within a few days at most. When your coworker, Vanessa, invited you out for drinks, you relented. She was nice enough, one of the few people you spoke to outside of work occasionally.
“C’mon! You never come out with us, a drink or two won't hurt!” You let your personal security, courtesy of Michael, know your plans, asking him to not hover too closely, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable.
There would be a total of 7 people, including you and Vanessa. The other 4 people would be no issue, they were chill and had good conversation, but Jerod? He’s a fucking weirdo. All tea, all shade, all disrespect.
He’s the type to tell you that “Pretty girls like you should smile more often,” and to touch your lower back while passing through, even with optimal space and opportunity.
He’s a complete idiot, a donut if you will. The only reason he was still employed with the company is because his uncle is a friend of a friend to your supervisor.
You stepped out of the black Escalade your security detail chauffeured you in, also courtesy of Michael. Your black and white houndstooth tweed patterned skirt and blazer hugging you perfectly, your curves unable to be hidden no matter what you wore, paired with a pair of black Louboutin’s.
Walking into the luxury restaurant, you spotted your coworkers at the bar, an empty seat next to Vanessa. You greeted everyone warmly, catching up with them about their personal lives and what’s been pissing then off at the office recently.
“And I told Christian that I can’t finish a report in half an hour when I just got the documents 15 minutes before! He’s such a dick,” Janae hated Christian, a manager who takes his job too seriously, with a burning passion. Everyone did.
Everyone ordered their choice of drink, helping to relax your minds from the hectic days you’ve been having. Some people ordered a second and third, but Jerod was on his 5th glass of whiskey, not including the 3 shots he'd ordered between then.
He started to get handsy with everyone, touching people on their shoulders and giving what he thinks is a relaxing massage, slapping people on their arms while laughing, stumbling around and using other people as leverage to not fall. And then he set his sights on you. Fuck.
“Soo, you still together with that Jackson guy?” Here we go again. He referred to Michael as ‘that Jackson guy’ in an attempt to belittle him and not seem like a fan.
“Of course I am. I married him,” you said coolly, trying to keep the conversation between you two to a minimum.
“Then why isn’t he here? I personally wouldn’t let a lady as sexy as this out of my sight.” You couldn't help the disgust that appeared on your face, your lip curling up and your nose wrinkling.
“Well, unlike you, he has work he actually does. He’ll be home soon.” You turned your attention back to the other people around you, ready to join their conversation. They felt the tension in the room, uncomfortable with Jerod’s comments about you and your husband. They were quite fond of Michael, big fans of him.
You adjusted in your seat uncomfortably, looking to the corner of the room to make sure Jack, your security, was still in the vicinity; your shoulders relaxing when you caught sight of his sunglasses. Looking down at your watch, you noted the time: 7:57. You’d been out long enough, missing your bed and your cat, Tyrone. You stepped down from your stool, about to say your goodbyes and head home.
“Well damn, toots,” Jerod hopped off of his stool as well, eyes following your shapely body. “No need to get defensive. I bet that lame can’t even please you correctly. No need to go so hard for him.” That’s when you felt it. A sharp impact on your ass cheek.
Your head shot up, eyes wide with shock. You instantly felt triggered, body immediately going into fight or flight, but choosing to freeze instead. There’s no way this piece of shit just assaulted you.
Before you knew it, a large man in a suit and sunglasses rushed over, pushing the man out of the way and guarding your body with his. You didn’t move once, eyes still full of disbelief and your ears ringing. Your mind couldn’t process the emotions that ran through you.
“C’mon Mrs. Jackson, let’s get you home.” Jack ushered you out of the restaurant, opening and closing your door for you, then getting into the drivers side to start the drive home.
It would take 45 minutes to get home from where you were, and for 40 you sat silent. Frozen.
“Please don’t tell Michael about this. He has enough on his plate.” If he wasn’t wearing sunglasses, you would have noticed the glare on his face, almost offended.
“Please.” Your voice wavered, emotions beginning to engulf you. He just nodded his head firmly, staying silent for the rest of the drive. You trudged inside, body feeling heavy and dirty.
You undressed in the bedroom slowly, walking to the bathroom and turning the shower water on, letting the water get as hot as you could take. Scrubbing your skin raw didn’t feel like enough, spending an hour in the shower washing yourself until the heat made you dizzy.
Your skincare was quick tonight, less thorough and enjoyable. All you wanted to do was cuddle up to Michael and pass out while he watched his films. Thankfully, Tyrone felt affectionate that night, cuddling up to you with warm fur and comforting purrs.
The next day at work was difficult for you. You felt humiliated that that bastard had the nerve to violate you like that in front of 5 other people. Coworkers. You spoke less than normal and quietly typed on your computer, not concerned why people were staring at the door.
“Baby, are you ok?” You turned to see your gorgeous husband in all of his glory. Dressed in a red button up and black slacks, curls pulled back in a half up half down style. Absolutely gorgeous as always.
He helped you stand from your seat, pulling you into a protective hug, one arm tight around your waist, while his other hand pulled your head into his chest, coddling you.
“Why didn’t you call me, honey?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, moreso concerned. He was worried that you didn’t trust him enough with information like that. You immediately knew what he was talking about, and you knew Jack has ratted on you. Of course he did, Michael pays him.
“Didn’t wanna bother you, baby. You were busy.” Your eyes burned with tears, but you clenched them shut, doing your best to not cause a scene and break down in front of everyone. The gentleness and genuine love that expelled from Michael’s heart and spirit was enough to make anyone want to break down into tears if you’ve been holding them in.
“You could never bother me, baby. You could call me for anything, especially something as serious as this. Where the fuck is he?”
“Baby, no. I just wanna go home. Please?” You so desperately wanted to get swallowed up in the ground, people were already staring and if Michael confronted him, who knew what would be reported to the media from nosey witnesses.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, letting you go to grab your purse for you and taking your hand in his. “C’mon darling. We have a lot to discuss when we get home, hmm?”
That’s how you ended up spread out across Michael’s lap, staring directly into the massive full length mirror. Your work clothes long abandoned, scattered across the stairs and hallways as Michael kissed and stripped you at the same time.
His long, elegant fingers were stuffing you to the brim, coated in white arousal, while he forced you to maintain eye contact. “Why didn’t you call me, baby?”
“I told you already- oouuu. I didn’t wanna bother you. Please right there!” He kept curling his fingers, coaxing out that creamy wetness he loved to taste so much. Your hips jolted, squirming around trying to chase your impending orgasm.
“That’s not a good answer darling. You don’t trust me?” He sped up his pace, his palm pressing against your clit, adding more overwhelming pleasure.
Your moans got louder and louder, grinding into his hand. “You know I trust you, Mikey. I didn’t want- fuck! Right there!”
“Didn’t want you to worry about me. You have enough- mmm to worry about. Oh my god, gonna cum-” The dam was so close to breaking, the flood gates ready to open. You clung to his thighs, digging your nails in for support. “Michael!” Then his fingers stilled, the denial sending shocks throughout your body.
“Nononono, Mikey please don’t stop!”
“You need to learn, Tinka. I need you to come to me for anything. If someone is upsetting you, if you want to start a big project, if you want to buy out an entire mall, if you’re hungry and you want to eat from 3 different restaurants. You can come to me my darling. I don't want to hear it from security.” He removed his fingers, bringing his middle finger to his lips to suckle on the sweet honey your pretty pussy leaked onto him.
“Here,” he brought his other finger to your mouth, letting you taste yourself. “Mhmm, you taste fucking good, don't ya?” You nod, moaning around his fingers, more slick dripping down your slit.
You whined as he removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them back to your swollen clit that was peeking out from between your puffy lips. Small circles rubbed the bundle of nerves. “Look at me,” you cranked your neck towards him as much as you could in the awkward angle.
His soft lips met yours, he tasted like orange juice and the strawberries he snacked on during his plane ride home. “Open.” Following his instructions, your tongue lolled from your mouth, inviting him to spit in your mouth. He developed this habit a few years ago, while at an award ceremony. He had had a few drinks, and was extremely turned on watching you saunter around in your skin tight dress that matched his suit. He would occasionally let you spit into his mouth, or kiss you deeply to steal the gum you had been chewing on. Anything to do with swapping spit with you, involve him immediately.
His fingers never let up on your bean, gradually speeding up, whispering in your ear between messy kisses and licks to your neck. “Baby~ Gonna cum.” Your pretty noises got louder, just barely louder than the noises of Michael playing with your dripping pussy.
Then he stopped again, a “Tsk tsk tsk” leaving his lips. “You never said you understood me, baby. I didn’t forget. Look in the mirror.” You were reluctant to look at him, making eye contact with him always flustered you, those big bambi eyes making him irresistible.
“You come tell me about everything, you hear me? I’m your husband and I’m here to make sure you're taken care of, Tinka. Understand?” You nodded your head rapidly, frantic and ready for him to continue his movements.
“Words, darling.” His voice dropped an octave causing you to clench around nothing.
“Mikey, please. I understand! I promise!” He slipped his fingers back inside, touching that spot he’d memorized all those years ago. His technique perfectly suited to your needs.
“I don’t think you do, baby. Can’t have you keeping things from me, can we?” His tone patronizing, his fingers unrelenting. Michael kept pulling you closer and closer to the edge, giving the impression that he was finally going to let you cum all over his hands.
Wishful thinking. He stopped as soon as your thighs started to close around his hand, your high pitched whimpers could shatter glass. You let out an agitated groan, head lolling form side to side on his chest, tears starting to fall.
“We're gonna be here until you really understand me. Keep looking at me. Yeah~ just like that. Now tell me you promise not to hide anything else from me, and maybe I’ll make you cum.”
Michael had convinced you to stay home for a few days, rescheduling as many of his meetings as possible to spend time with you. A lot of that time was spent between your plush brown thighs.
By the time Monday came back around, you felt new, rejuvenated. Michael spent 4 days doting on you and making it abundantly clear that he was your safe space and you could come to him with any and everything.
Walking in, you walked to your office, noting the stares and whispers. You caught the end of someone’s gossip, “-husband got him fired. Something about harassment.” You furrowed your brows, setting your things down so you could find Vanessa.
She sat at her desk, an amused smile on her face. “Why is everybody staring at me? Is there something on my face? And who got fired?”
She laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. “Your man didn’t tell you? Jerod got fired. Some lawyer came in raising hell about harassment. It was kinda intense.”
You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Of course Michael sent someone. He knew you would feel a way if he came in raising hell himself, and he wanted your attention 100%. You tried to fight the smile making its way to your face. You loved when Michael protected you and took charge to make sure you were happy and safe.
“Ohhh someone’s flustered!”
Your boss had apologized personally for not reprimanding Jerod sooner, letting it slip that Michael in fact had spoken to him on the phone. You couldn't wait to get home to question Michael about his little conversation.