tay

the bustling set of the “michael” movie hummed with controlled chaos, cameras, lights, crew members darting between takes, and the faint echo of michael jackson songs buzz in the background. you and jermajesty had been invited to visit the set that day and to tell how proud of jaafar you two were. you were like family to jaafar, practically his sister so that automatically gave you a all-access pass.

jaafar was already in character, looking like the icon his uncle is. he was dressed in a identical outfit michael had when he was maybe 17 or 18 years old, still in the jackson 5 era. once jaafar laid his eyes on you and jermajesty, he grinned at you both as he hurried to give a tour of the set. he showed off many different things like, the vintage props, different rooms and even the makeup trailers where most of the magic happens.

“man, this feels surreal. I’m happy to be honoring my uncle.” he expressed while glancing at his brother who gave him a warm smile. you smiled at his words as well, face filled with an admirable yet proud expression.

“we’re so proud of you, far.” jaafar gave you a big smile before bringing you into a hug, shifting left and right on his feet, cradling you. jermajesty came behind you two next, hugging you and jaafar at the same time time. during the hug, jermajesty had pressed up against your ass, crotch brushing against you over and over. you ignored it for the time being, because the moment was too sweet so it definitely wasn’t the time nor the place.

jaafar finally pulled away, smile not faltering. “you two enjoy the rest of the set. i’ve got another scene in ten.”

jermajesty nodded, his hand brushing the small of your back as jaafar walked off. as soon as jaafar’s figure was out of view, jermajesty slid his hand down the back pocket of your jeans and spun you around to face him, earning a surprise yelp from your throat.

his voice dropped low. “i’ve been thinking about you since we walked in here.” you were pulled flush against him as he gripped your ass, tightly, you had no choice but to feel his hardness grow in his pants. “c’mon. quick detour.”

he guided you through a side door into a dimly lit storage room, tucked between some props and tapes and racks of costumes. the door clicked shut. before you could say anything, jermajesty’s lips were already on yours. his goate rubbed against your skin as his mouth got hot and hungry against yours. his tongue slipped past your lips as he backed you into a prop table, hands roaming your body greedily.

“jermajesty.. we are on s- hmm- set.” you tried to talk while jermajesty’s lips and tongue was caressing your pulse but it was insanely difficult. you didn’t even know why you tried to be reasonable, the heat pooling between your thighs betrayed you.

“that’s exactly why we gotta be quick and quiet.” he says, pushing the narrative further. he nipped at your skin while finger worked on the button on your jeans, opening it in one swift motion. “I’ve been wanting this pussy allll day.” he cooed.

he then dropped to his knees, yanking your jean and panties down in a quick motion. your glistening folds were already wet for him, which was nothing new. he he lifted one of your legs on the table, making you balance on one leg while leaning against the table. he buried his head between your thighs with no hesitation, tongue lapping at your clit with expert fingers pushing in your soaked entrance, curling just right. you bit your lip, trying to conceal your moan with one hand cupping your mouth while the other was gripping his shoulder. the sounds of his mouth filled the quiet room, just slurping and sucking.

“fuck.. you taste so good, baby.” he groaned quietly, looking up at you with a dark glint in his eyes. your hips buckled into his face, face scrunched up in pleasure. you were close but he began to pull back. you didn’t protest because you knew what was coming next.

he stood, freeing his cock from his sweats. it slapped, heavy against your thigh, flushed and leaking pre-cum. “turn around, baby.”

you spun, hands resting on the edge of the table, back arching and ass pushing out for him and knee hiked up on the dress. he rubbed the head of his dick along your slick pussy lips, circling the tip on your clit, teasing you a bit. he then, thrust in one big, deep stroke. you both gasped, him at how tight you were, you at the stretch. he filled you perfectly, bottoming out with a low grunt.

“fuck baby, why are you so tight” he whispered, hotly in your ear, one hand covering your mouth while the other gripped your hip. he started to fuck with deep, controlled strokes, hard enough to make your eyes roll back, but quiet enough to not draw attention. the sound of skin slapping was muffled by the angle and his body pressed tightly against yours. your pussy clenched around him with every thrust, creamy ring forming around his cock.

you moaned into his hand, pushing back against him. he angled his hips to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl, balls slapping softly against your clit. “tas’it take this dick. just like that.” he breathed, voice strained, trying to hold back. sweat beaded on his skin as began to pound into you faster, the table creaking beneath you.

your orgasm hit you hard. your walls fluttered around him as waves of pleasure coursed through your. you whimpered into his hand, body shaking. jermajesty followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a choked groan, hips stuttering as he filled you with hot pulses of cum.

he stayed buried in you for a second, both of you catching your breath. finally, he pulled out slowly, a trickle of cum spilling on your thigh which jermajesty wiped with a tissue from his pocket. he put his clothes back in place before helping you as well.

“just wait till we get home.” he says, kissing you softly this time.

you hummed, replying to his remark.

he led you back into set like nothing happened and the people around you tow didn’t know anything happened as well.

the summer 95' was blazing. you were the main lead in a black film called “poetic justice” a raw, love story that had hollywood shook. and your co-star? tupac shakar? being the sexy, hip-hop idol he was had hollywood even more shook and he was your love interest in the film as well. the chemistry on the screen was amazing, off screen was strictly platonic and you knew that but pac was a flirt at heart.

you have been dating micheal, quietly for almost a year. he was in his dangerous/HIStory era and still the king of pop and the king of your heart. he’d fly in when he could to watch the process of the film and mainly watch you. he loved how passionate you were with acting and you just loved the weight of his stare on you, and your job.

today, michael had flown into atlanta. he showed up in his classic, black shades and hair in a low ponytail like always. he thought he blended into the background but he stuck out like a sore thumb. many of the crew walked up and asked for a autograph but he simply stated that this was your day, gosh you love him so much.

once you spotted him, you eyes lit up like a child noticing their parents at their baseball game. he put his thumb up, flashing his smile that made you weak in the knees.

it was time to film a scene. the scene consisted of your character, justice, getting into a heated argument with tupac’s character, lucky. pac, being pac only stayed in character for a little while before cracking a smile at you, making both of you break character.

“damn, ma. I’m tryna keep my composure but you over here smiling n ' being cute n ' shit.” tupac cackles fill the set as your lips tugged into a grin as well. tupac licked his lips before continuing his antics.

“nah foreal tho, he should take these lines and go to my trailer, private rehearsal, you feel me.” he joked. you rolled your eyes, hands on hips.

“whatever, save it for the camera. m’kay?” before you could say anything else, your feel hands slip around your waist making you jump a little. he didn’t say anything at first, just letting his possessive yet smooth presence speak for itself for a moment.

The air shifted quickly.

michael held eye contact with tupac for a little bit. tupac’s smirk falters, before sizing michael up and down with a slight grin but cautious of his facial expressions.

“pac.” michael says, softly but still had a edge underneath. he gave pac a slight nod, “heard you been talking good care of my girl on camera.” a pause. “appreciate that. just remember.. the scene ends when the director says cut.”

it was subtle and blunt, exactly how michael is. no yelling or cussing necessary.

tupac blinked, then let out a short laugh, hands up in a surrender. “whoa.. whoa alright, partna,” he said chuckling but taking a step back. “I’m not tryna move up on you girl, man. my bad. respect. I was just playin’ with her, you know how I do. energy for the scene and shit.”

micheal tilted his head, slightly then breaking out in a smile which was funny and scary. “good. wouldn’t want any misunderstandings.”

you bit your lips before continuing to keep from laughing at the look on pac’s face. the encounter was funny and hot at the same time.

pac rubbed the back of his before speaking, “aight, ima go run my lines. enjoy the break.” he says before walking away towards his trailer.

as soon as tupac was out of your sight you sharply turned around in his arms, hands come to smack him on his chest. “baby, you did not have to do him like that!.” you told him, dying of laughter.

michael chuckled, softly. he pulled you closer, throwing that boyish grin at you. “he’s talented, but he needs to know where the line is.” his fingers traced your jaw, admiring you a bit before tilting your head up at him. “your mine on and off screen, honey.”

your heart fluttered, hand coming up to raise michael’s sunglasses on his head. “jealousy looks sexy on you, you know that?”

he raised his eyebrows, lips brushing against yours. “only for you, darling”

later that afternoon , during the second take, tupac put a break in his flirtatious nature and kept it strictly professional. no ad-libs or anything… well he still would manage to crack his jokes but they weren’t in any way flamboyant. after wrap, pac gave michael a respectful head nod on his way out but stopped to tell you something.

“tell your man I’m cool, I don’t want to get beat up by tito, jackie, and all dem niggas.” you busted out laughing at his confession and nodded.

“sure thing, pac.” he gave you one last smile before heading out.

you found michael in your trailer, afterwards. he was sitting down on a couch when you slipped in his lap, tiredly. “you were such a hero, saving me from the big bad rapper.”

michael pecked your lips. “I’ll moonwalk on anyone who forgets you’re taken.”

you laughed. “moonwalk michael? you’re stupid.”

“only for you, mama.” he kissed yours again.

“only for you.” he whispered once again, pulling you in a longer kiss.

the first time you witnessed it was when you saw it up close during michael’s rehearsal in the studio at midnight.

michael had been drilling the choreography for his upcoming tour for hours. the red, leather jacket fit loosely around his frame, one white, sparkly glove glowing under harsh lights of the studio. you sat crossed legged on the floor, not too far from. head resting on your hands as you admire your boyfriend’s moves.

suddenly, michael planted one of his feet, glided forward and spun. his body whipped around so fast, curls bouncing and jacket flaring. your eyes widen when he stopped and met his eyes with yours, instantly clapping and hooting.

“baby!” you continued to clap, jumping up. “do that again, that was wonderful honey.”

michael grinned, bashful as usual. he began to get shy but did the move once more, earning a uproar from you. you rushed over to him, hands cupping his face to kiss him hard. “i love that move, so much. it’s like you’re floatin' on air!”

the second time was during the full on run through of the billie jean choreography on the actual concert stage. a few crew members were around, testing electronics and instruments to make sure the sound and the concert will run smoothly. michael was in his own world, on stage doing the dance moves with you, again, on the floor watching. the billie jean instrumental was blaring in the background , you were tapping your feet and bobbing your head to the rhythm as you were watching michael.

you had your arms folded, making sure to not cheer to loud. you knew how michael got when cheered for, especially in front of other people. your eyes were glued to him when he did it, when he did THE move.

the spin was much faster, sharper, precise. your stomach flipped and heat rises to your cheeks. you had told yourself you would keep yourself reserved and quiet but all of that completely left your mind when you scurried up on your feet hollering:

“whoa! do that spin baby!”

all of the crew mates and musicians started to laugh at michael’s supportive yet performative girlfriend. michael had looked straight at you after your outburst. he bit his lip, trying to hide his smile but failing miserably.

later that day, michael had backed you against the wall, voice all low and flirty. “you really like it when I do that spin, huh?”

“every single time.” you replied, hands on his chest. “it does something to me.”

the third time didn’t require any music or anything. it was 3am in the morning and, like always, michael couldn’t sleep. he was thinking to much about his music and certain dance moves.

he was in the kitchen, grabbing a snack and humming “wanna be startin something” under his breath. unbeknownst to him, you had woken up too and was leaned against the doorway of the kitchen in your silk robe, watching him with a grin.

then he did it, no music, no instructions just him and his mind. the sounds of your laughter made him hum in surprise and turn around. his face warmed at the sight of his lovely girlfriend, laughing and clapping by the door.

“michael jospeh jackson, you are sum else .”

he smiled before spinning again, playfully. after the spin he moonwalked backwards until his back hit your chest making you snort at him before grabbing his shoulders and turning around. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling him flush against him.

you melted against him, fingers raking through his jheri curl.

“i love you, mr spiny man.”

“mr spiny man loves you too.”

the fourth time was amazing. it was finally the day of the thriller tour and your emotions were very high, mostly excitement.

the lights were beaming. the crowd was screaming. michael had hit the stage, making the crowd cry, half of the crowd fainted before he could bust a move. but when michael hit the signature move during “billie jean” the crowd lost their minds and you did too, if not worse.

from your spot in VIP, your heart was pounding. you felt electricity. your man was owning the entire arena with move. you screamed along with fans, jumping up and down, curls bouncing.

michael had closed with the song “p.y.t” michael had arranged for the stage cameras to show you from the VIP section, making you show up on the large screens on the wall. you obviously were surprised, seeing yourself on the big screen while listening to michael singing to you, after all you were his pretty young thang.

when he came off the stage later that day, he was drenched in sweat, towel around his neck. he made his way right to your direction. you met him halfway, practically throwing yourself on him.

“baby that was wonderful, and you did the spin!” you told him, voice highly pitched with pride and want. “you killed the night, especially me.”

michael laughed, softly and pressing a even more softer kiss to your temple. “i saw how big your smile was, made me hit it harder.”

the fifth time was literally that same night. you and were together in private, at a hotel after the show.

the lights were dimmed in room, only the light from the bathroom was on. you sitting on the edge of the bed, applying body lotion to your feet after taking a well needed bath. your hair was in curlers, wrapped in a sheer fabric.

michael wasn’t too far, actually he was in the bathroom. he stood in front of the mirror, hair damp from the bath and dressed in some pajama pants and a mickey mouse printed shirt. he was still in a aftershock from the show, reminiscing about his dance moves and the songs.

he playfully did dance moves in the mirror with a grin, which was wider when he caught you staring through the mirror. he glanced at you, playfully before planting his feet in a familiar position and spinning.

he heard your soft giggles from behind him and your voice telling him to “come here”

when he reached in front of you, you pulled him down on top of you, making him yelp with a wide smile. “i love that damn spin.” you whispered before michael couldn’t contain himself and planted his lips on yours.

-

the villa was live with usual late night hum. laughter from the bedrooms, splashes from the pool, the buzzing from the cameras that never turned off. you were sitting on the colorful, orange bench with the led words that lit above it saying “all with feels” your shoulders were folded underneath your breast as you rested on the wall, covered with face leaves. your braids were pulled into a ponytail, ends swaying every time you shifted in frustration.

trinity had pulled you for a chat, earlier. she confessed to you that she had caught sincere, not being sincere. in better words, he was pulling other girls for chats after telling you that he was locked in with you and was not going to continue exploring other connections. when she had told you, your stomach twisted yet your face was calm. all you could think about was how much you trusted him, not you’re in doubt.

speak of the devil, he came striding down the villa, after talking to the boys. hair up in a bun, sharp jawline, plush lips. he looked good, which caused even more frustration because you wanted to be furious with him but you couldn’t help but get aroused by him. the second his eyes fell on you, his lips pulled into a smirk but his smirk was replaced when he saw your face.

“you good?” he said it so casually, like he did nothing wrong.

when you didn’t answer, he leaned down to reach for you waist but you slapped his hand away. “don’t touch me, sincere.” you flatly mumbled, staring straight at your finger, not wanting to make eye contact. you were scared that if you made eye contact with him, you want gouge his eyes out or worse, let your guard down.

his jaw flexed. “what’s wrong?”

you scoff at his question, getting even more frustrated that he think you’re stupid and that you didn’t have eyes everywhere. “what’s wrong? what’s wrong is that you’re a lying ass bitch.” you spat.

that really set sincere off. he glanced around to make sure no one was around before he grabbed your wrist and lifted you off the bench, pulling you towards the soul ties stairs. “you better tell me what’s wrong right now and chill the fuck out.”

you snatch your arm back, braid swinging as you jerked back. “nigga, I’m not stupid. i know you were talking to other girls while supposedly being locked in with me.” you made air quotes when you said “locked in” making sincere even more angry. the words that you said hit him, eyes darkening and jaw flexing. as he stood silent, you too your chance to say more.

“you really think I’m stupid? you told me we were locked in and then i hear from trinity that you talking to other bitches? nuh uh.” you shook your head, clouded in your wave of anger, not noticing the tent growing in sincere’s pants.

he let the words slip before taking a few steps towards you, chest brushing against your nose. “who the fuck you talkin' to right now?”

it was the way he said it, deep, possessive, laced with arrogance. it sent a rush of heat straight to your core. your pussy clenched involuntarily. you hated how much his toxicity turned you on, but you were too mad to stop.

you scoffed at his approach, looking at him up and down as your eyebrows pinched. “I’m talking to your lying ass.” pressing your acrylic into his chest.

that was all it took.

his hand came flying to your neck and yanked you into a bruising kiss. his tongue invaded yours, making you taste mint and fruit from that morning’s breakfast. both of your hands were planted on his chest, wanting to push him back but you couldn’t. the hand that was on your neck was now on your jaw, squeezing it and planting your lips on his. his other hand was on your ads, squeezing and fondling making you moan into his mouth. he walked you backwards until heels slips on the stairs, making you fall back into the plushness of the soul ties bed. he soon followed you, laying on top of you to invade your mouth again.

soon after that, his hand were already making its way to the bottom of your dress, tugging up around your waist. sincere instantly caught his eye on your panties and the damp spot on the center.

“shit, look at you.” he grunted to himself, examining further while pressing his thumb on your clothed clit, causing a whine to slip from your soft, glossed lips.

“feels good? you mad but you still want me to make this pussy feel good?” he cooed, knowing you was slowly letting your guard down. he proceeded to place soft circles on your clit on top of your panties, while palming your breast with the other hand. you buck your hips into his hand, wanting a release but actually wanting him to pick up the pace.

“please, sincere-“ you started, but he spun you around so quick, pressing your stomach into the bed. he yanked the straps of your dress down, breast springing free. he only yanked the top half of the dress down your waist while the bottom half was up your waist as well making the dress just pool around your stomach, panties still exposed. his big hand came cracking down on your ass, making the soft, brown flesh ripple. you gasped, back arching instinctively. “sincere-”

“please what, baby? who you talkin to? huh?” he asked, demandingly, voice low and nasty as he smacked your other ass cheek before gripping both of them, spreading them apart to reveal the fabric of your thing between your ass. you didn’t get a chance to answer before he started yanking your panties down your legs. he threw them somewhere on the bed before shoving his own pants down. his thick cock sprang out, long, veiny cock with a pink tip and the rest, a light shade like the rest of him. he rubbed it between your slick folds, teasing your clit, coating himself in your wetness.

“that is what you was mad about?.” he began, brows furrowed as he focused on your wet pussy, fluttering at the contact of his dick. “this dick that’s only for you?”

he pushed in, in one brutal thrust. you began to feel yourself becoming numb and stupid around his cock. you let you body relax as you eyes was squeezed shut and jaw dropped. you cried out, nails scraping the bed as he bottomed out, balls deep in your soaking pussy. “fuck, this pussy grippin’ me like it missed me. so wet and nasty for me even when you mad, you like when i do dumb shit? so you can get mad and your pussy get soaked? hmm?”

you couldn’t answer him properly, you just gave him a throaty moan as he started to fuck you deep. the sound of skin slapping skin echoed in soul ties, wet and obscene. one hand cupped your shoulder, making nail marks stain your skin, the other was gripping your dress using it as leverage to push your ass back into his thighs.

“tell me this pussy belongs to me. t’even though i talk to other bitches, you won’t go n talk to other niggas.” he grunted, slamming into you harder, fat head of his cock dragging against your g-spot with every thrust.

you start to violently nod, nodding at the delicious feeling of sincere’s balls slapping against your clit and at his demand. “mhm yes, it belongs to you. I promise, yes yes yes.” you rambled, your mind not being all there.

suddenly he started to pull out, making you protest before he flipped you around on you back, folding your legs on your chest. he started to slide back in, making your toes curl. you head fell back, mouth open in a silent scream as he start to pick up the pace again. he slid his hand down your mound until he was met with your clit, he made a fist, using only his thumb to rub your clit up and down in a flicker motion. the clit simulation and the thrusts combined was truly too much.

your nails digged into his arm, overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure. “oh m’god. yes yes yes-“ your chanting made your out of breath as your hips bucked into his hand and his pounding. his fist was digging into your pelvis as he continued his abuse on your clit.

“tas’it baby, take that dick.” cooed in a whisper, motivating your orgasm. his hips were still in a consistent rhythm, abs flexing with each thrust. he felt your pussy clamp on him tighter and tighter by the second.

you felt the band in your stomach reaching its end, making your eyes shoot open, chasing the peak. “oh m- right there sincere. mhm I’m close, yes yes.” you completely shattered, juices gushing around him as you came with a loud, high pitched whine. legs shaking, skin hot and marked. sincere didn’t stop, he slowed down his thrusts a tad, fucking you through it, chasing his release. a couple of more thrust later and he buried himself to a hilt, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. he kept grinding through the aftershocks, finalizing his orgasm and making sure not one drop went missing.

for a long moment, only heavy breathing filled the space. He finally pulled out slowly, a thick string of mixed cum dripping down your thigh. he used your abandoned panties to wipe the excess cum off your thigh.

“next time.” he began, slipping his pants back on, shoving his cock back in the cage. “don’t let other people get in your head, come to me if your feeling funny about some shit.” again he doesn’t give your time to answer before kissing you, pecking one last time when pulling away.

“fix your dress and let’s get ready for bed.”

you obeyed, glaring at him. body still humming from the orgasm and and bit of anger was poured out by now. you knew he was going to continue to talk to other girls but it didn’t matter, you were still locked in.

-