أميرة جميلة

18+ mdni

“baby, be quiet.”

you whisper as your hands frame each side of his head. you lean down, your breasts pressed warmly against his chest. you kiss michael deeply, lips crashing to muffle his needy whimpers. you can’t be caught today.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes against your mouth, his voice trembling and already breaking.

his hands grip your thighs hard, fingers digging in as he tries to ram up into you from below. but this isn’t enough for him. he needs more.

you keep riding, your walls clenching tight around his thick length. his eyes are glistening beneath you, wet and shining in the low light. you assume it’s just sweat, the heat of your bodies making everything slick and shiny.

but he keeps whimpering, soft broken sounds spilling out no matter how hard you kiss him.

yet for micheal you riding him wasn’t cutting it.

he flips you onto your back with a desperate groan. you yelp in shock as he hooks your left leg high over his shoulder, stretching you open in ways you didn’t even know were possible. he thrusts in hard, his cock kissing deep inside you and pressing right against that perfect spot.

relentless strokes follow. sweat slicks your bodies, pressing hot and slippery together. the room smells heavily of musk and sex. in this new position his whimpers grow louder, the deeper sensation driving him wild.

“shh, sweetheart,” you murmur, covering his mouth with your open palm and pulling him closer. “you have to be real quiet.”

even then he keeps moaning into your hand, trying his hardest. he bites gently down on your palm. your eyes roll back at the overwhelming feeling. your palm slips.

he buries his face in your neck, lips pressing desperately against your skin while his hips keep driving deep. the slick slide of skin on skin is filthy, your sweaty bodies gliding together with every thrust. the pressure against your pussy makes your body pulse while the tight heat of your walls squeezes him relentlessly.

you turn your head, spot your discarded panties nearby, and think it’s brilliant—the smartest idea. stuffing them in his mouth should finally shut him up.

you reach for them and push the soft fabric between his lips. you expect it to quiet him down, to finally give you some control.

instead, the opposite happens. michael moans even louder around the panties, the sound vibrating through you. to him this is the best of both worlds—he gets to taste your sweet essence and fuck you at the exact same time. it’s basically his dream come true.

being completely surrounded by you, wrapped in your tight heat while your taste floods his mouth, overwhelming him in a way nothing else ever has.

that’s when you feel it—warm teardrops landing on your cheeks, sliding down your skin.

your eyes flutter open. when you look up, michael’s face is completely fucked out, eyes glassy and half-lidded, tears steadily rolling down his flushed cheeks. his lips are spit-stricken and abused around the bunched fabric, trembling as he bites down hard on the panties trying to hold back the noises.

his hair is a total mess, sticking to his forehead in sweaty strands. he looks so pathetic whimpering over you like this, every thrust making fresh tears slip free because the pleasure is simply too much.

“mikey… sweetie, are you okay?” you whisper, panic cutting through the heat.

he nods quickly, whimpering around the panties, voice muffled. “it just feels… s’good,” he chokes out, tears spilling faster.

“m’sorry baby… i don’t know why… its too much… you feel—“

you reach up to pull the panties from his mouth, worried, but his hand shoots down, grabbing your wrist and interlacing his fingers with yours. he pushes your joined hands down onto the mattress beside your head, pinning you there gently but firmly. he shakes his head, eyes pleading even as more tears slip free.

“no.. no please just..,” he takes in a breath, trying to regain any sense of composure. “just keep them in..”

he keeps driving into you with slow, grinding rolls of his hips, chasing that all-consuming sensation. he’s so overwhelmed—completely wrapped in your slick heat, your taste on his tongue, every sense drowning in you.

your breath hitches, your toes curling as the white-hot tension in your lower stomach threatens to snap. you are completely at his mercy, his whimpers and tears only turning you on more.

“mikey… stop crying, baby, you’re gonna—” you gasp, your fingers tightening around his as your own climax rushes up to meet him.

the desperate squeeze of your walls wrapping around him like a vice is the final trigger. michael’s eyes roll back, more tears spilling as his entire body locks up in a rigid, trembling line.

at the exact moment your body fractures into a violent, pulsing orgasm, he drives into you one last, impossibly deep time.

a choked, muffled cry of absolute surrender is strangled in his throat by the panties as his release floods hot and deep inside you.

your contractions clamp down on him relentlessly, milking him dry as you both shudder together, completely spent drowning in the post-sex sensation.

you brush a tear from his cheek with your free thumb, still catching your breath,

“m’aww such a crybaby”

✧˖°.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ his hands

content  18+  smut  thrad!michaelxreader  sizekink?  noplot

notes  a short drabble of how his big hands and long fingers satisfy you ♡ for ref, his hand is 23-24cm (9-9.5in) long, with a span of 28 cm (11 inches). the avg is 19cm long!

First off i wanna say i love ur fics!! Can I request a Michael x daughter reader fic where it's modern times and shes like ragebaiting michael/using today's memes to troll him 😭

(Idek if this makes sense, sorry if it doesn't 😭)

What is fairs?

Michael x daughter! reader

Summary: You troll your dad with today's brain rot and him trying to understand it.

Note: Reader is a gen alpha it only makes sense.

Short😶‍🌫️

Michael was at his limit with the vocabulary of a twelve year old. He sat at the kitchen island, staring intensely at a printout from Google titled "A Parent's Guide to Gen Alpha Slang." "Dad, what are you doing?" you asked, hopping onto the barstool next to him while aggressively tapping away at a Roblox game on your iPad.

Michael quickly folded the paper and slid it under his placemat, clearing his throat. "Nothing, love staying informed keeping my aura high, as you say." You froze. You slowly lowered your iPad, looking at him with absolute, unblinking judgment, You raised your right hand, curled your index finger to your thumb to make a perfect "OK" sign, "Fairs," you whispered.

Michael blinked, completely thrown off by the gesture. "Fairs? Like a carnival? what does that mean sweetheart?" "It’s just fairs, Dad. Short for 'fair enough.' It means you tried, but it was really cringe," you explained, returning to your iPad. "Your brain rot is showing it's actually tragic." You said laughing a bit.

"My brain is perfectly healthy!" Michael protested, throwing his hands up in defeat. "And 'fairs' is not a sentence! You can't just say 'fairs' and flash hand signs at your father!" You didn't even look up from your screen. "Fairs." Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a quiet "Lord help me" under his breath, while you secretly smirked at your successful troll.

thriller! era michael x reader

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

michael and you sat on the floor of his room in hayvenhurst, michael’s eyes fused onto the paper, the pencil in his hand moved, looking up at you every so often.

you sat across from michael cross legged, “are you almost done?” you muttered impatiently.

“just a minute..” michael whispered, his brows furrowing for a moment as he studied the paper, he looked beautiful. his curls hanging loosely over his forehead, biting at his lower lip in concentration.

you snapped out of it when michael spoke, “alright, i’m done.” with a boyish smile on his face. he noticed you staring.

you immediately crawled over to his side to look, your eyes landing on the sketchbook in his hands.

it was beautiful. he had captured every small detail. every feature, beauty mark, dimple, everything.

michael’s smile began to falter a bit, he looked a bit embarrassed from your lack of words. “do you like it?” he murmured.

“do i like it?” you spoke, “i love it! oh my god michael..this is beautiful, you’re so talented.” michael’s shy smile returned to his face, he looked down, moving to grab your hand, toying with your fingers.

“it’s okay.. i could’ve done bett—“ before he could finish, you pushed the sketchbook to the side, straddling michael while peppering kisses all over his face, you could hear his small giggles and murmurs of your name,

you cupped his cheeks in both hands, finally moving to give him a tender kiss. michael’s hands shifted from the floor to your back, sliding down to your waist. when you finally pulled away for air, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ears, eyes soft, and locked on your lips as he whispered, “thank you for being my muse.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

okay guys i tried to execute my idea as good as possible…but i really like the concept of this, you would be michael’s muse for every drawing 😢😢💕

he palms your ass, fingers sinking deep into the meat of your thighs, rocking your hips against him, legs spread over his, his hands all on your body.

“yeah… that’s right. look at me baby”

his voice drops low, lazy, but there’s nothing soft about it. thumb drags under your chin—forces your head up, makes you look him dead in his eyes while he grinds your hips down. slow n lazy.

you try to swallow the sound that climbs up your throat but it slips anyway.

“see that? fuckin’ dumb for me. huh? always foldin’ like this. swear you talk all that shit just ‘cause you like it when i fix it.” he chides.

your hands claw weak at his shoulders. nowhere to go. nowhere to hide. he drags you up, then rocks your hips back down—grinds your cunt right against the bulge straining under his sweats.

you gasp. whining softly. “…tojiii…”

“nah. nah, don’t start whinin’ now. wasn’t whinin’ when you was talkin’ crazy earlier, huh?”

he grips the back of your neck—forces you down, forehead pressed to his. his breath is hot, smells like weed and cheap beer and something a lil worse, something bitter.

“say sorry.”

your mouth stumbles. stammers. “…i—i’m sorry—”

“nah. say it right.” his hand cracks down against your thigh—smack!—makes you jolt. “say you’re sorry for bein’ a fuckin’ mouthy little bitch who don’t know how to act.”

it splinters something in you. but you say it. you always do. “…i’m sorry for… f-for bein’ a mouthy little bitch—”

“mm. that’s it. fuckin’ knew you had it in you.”

he shifts—grabs his cock, yanks it out. fat, flushed dark, angry red tip already leaking precum. he lines it up. presses the head right against your messy cunt. doesn’t even bother taking your panties off, just shoves ‘em aside.

“g’head. put it in. you wanna act grown? do it yourself.”

your hands tremble. but you reach—grip the base, guide it. hips shake when you sink down. too thick. too much. splits you open like it always does.

your jaw hangs open—no sound comes out for a second. making you look just as stupid as he’s calling you.

his hands clamp your hips, damn near bruising—dragging you right down to the last inch, forces you to take all of it. “…there you go. dumb fuckin’ baby.”

you bury your head in the crook of his neck—tears slipping, burning hot down your cheeks. he grips your chin again, forces your face back up. “nah. eyes on me. c’monnn. lemme see how stupid you look.”

he starts fucking upwards. every drag and push knocks the breath out of you, punches the sounds straight from your chest.

ᥫ᭡. description: one stubborn argument, a pair of vibrating panties, and a crowded paris restaurant. trapped in the back of a luxury sedan, the remote control turns a petty power struggle into a breathless, desperate surrender.

content: 18+, smut, vibrating panties, bad!michael, public, car sex, dryhumping, feet play???, arguing, extreme teasing, THIS FREAKY ASF …

˗ˋˏ༺❤︎༻ˎˊ˗

the rain was tapping against the hotel window in paris, a soft, steady rhythm that did absolutely nothing to calm the storm brewing inside the luxurious suite. the air was thick, heavy with the kind of silence that makes your ears ring.

you and michael had been arguing for forty-eight hours straight. it had started over something incredibly stupid. he was being impatient, rushing you to get ready for some big press event he had to attend, and your stubborn streak had kicked in hard. you had refused to let him hurry you, digging your heels in, and before either of you knew it, the whole thing had blown up into a massive, exhausting argument. you had spent the last two days sleeping on opposite sides of the massive king bed, barely even making eye contact.

but tonight was different. tonight, you had reservations at one of the most exclusive, hardest-to-get-into restaurants in all of paris. it had taken michael’s team months of pulling favors to secure a table, and despite the heavy wall of anger between you, neither of you wanted to back down and cancel. it was a matter of pride. you were both going to see this through, even if it meant sitting in icy silence across from each other all night.

you stood in front of the gold-trimmed vanity mirror, carefully zipping up a gorgeous, backless silk dress. it hugged every curve of your body, the dark fabric making your skin glow under the warm lights of the dressing room. in the reflection, you saw michael step into the room. he stopped dead in his tracks.

for a split second, his jaw slackened. his dark eyes softened, melting from the hard, annoyed expression he’d been wearing for days into pure, unfiltered admiration. he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"you look beautiful, baby," he murmured, his voice soft, husky, and filled with a quiet sincerity that almost made you want to drop your guard right then and there.

for a moment, the thick ice between you started to thaw. you felt a blush creep up your neck. but instead of saying anything, you just turned around to grab your undergarments from the vanity drawer, wanting to keep up your protective wall.

michael always had his team stock your wardrobe with beautiful things whenever you traveled together. there were boxes of designer clothes, shoes, and lingerie waiting for you in every city. so, when you reached into the drawer and pulled out a pair of silky black panties you didn't quite recognize, you didn't think twice. you liked the lace detailing and the sleek look of them, so you stepped into them and pulled them up.

michael’s eyes went wide. his jaw practically dropped to the floor, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant from romantic admiration to sheer panic.

"wait, no, no. don't put those on," he said, his voice suddenly urgent as he stepped toward you, holding his hands up as if to stop you.

you snapped your head up, your stubbornness flaring right back to life. "why not? they're cute. and you bought them, didn't you?"

"yes, i bought them, but they aren't for going out," he said, a sudden flush of red creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones. he looked incredibly flustered, trying to maintain his polite, gentlemanly composure while clearly panicking. "they're... they are different, sweetheart. please, just take them off and put on a normal pair. we have to go, and those are not suitable for a restaurant."

"suitable?" you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "you've been rushing me and being impatient all day, michael. now i finally find something i actually want to wear, and you're telling me no? what is your problem?"

"i'm not trying to be difficult," he said, taking a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep his voice calm and gentle even though his eyes were wide. "i am telling you, as a gentleman, that wearing those tonight is a very, very bad idea. please, listen to me just this once. change into something else."

your stubbornness was like a brick wall. the more he pushed, the more you wanted to resist. "no. you don't get to tell me what to do just because you're in a bad mood. you're always trying to control everything around you, michael. i'm wearing them, and that's final."

"i am not trying to control you!" he argued, his voice rising an octave in pure frustration, though he still kept his hands neatly tucked near his sides, trying not to look aggressive. "you are being incredibly stubborn right now, and you don't even know what you're doing. just listen to me!"

"i'm leaving," you snapped, grabbing your small clutch purse from the vanity. "the reservation is in twenty minutes. meet me in the car if you're actually coming."

you turned on your heel, your heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor as you marched out of the suite and slammed the door behind you.

michael stood alone in the dressing room, running a hand through his curls, letting out a long, stressed exhale. his eyes fell on the nightstand, landing on a tiny, sleek black remote control that had been hidden behind a jewelry box. a sudden, dark, mischievous look crossed his handsome face. the perfect gentleman in him knew he shouldn't, but the frustrated, teased man in him won out. he walked over, snatched up the remote, slipped it deep into his trousers pocket, and headed out to catch up with you.

the ride to the restaurant in the back of the town car was completely, painfully silent. you stared out the window at the glowing lights of the eiffel tower, refusing to look at him. michael sat on his side of the seat, his hands resting on his knees, his face a mask of polite calm, though his fingers occasionally twitched against his thighs.

when you arrived at the restaurant, it was everything you expected. the lighting was low and romantic, the air smelled of expensive truffles and aged wine, and the dining room was filled with the soft murmur of wealthy patrons and a few very recognizable celebrities. you both kept it casual, nodding politely to a couple of people who recognized michael, putting on a perfect front for the public.

the host led you to a cozy, secluded booth in the corner, offering a bit of privacy while still keeping you in view of the rest of the room. you sat down across from each other, the small table with its crisp white tablecloth the only thing separating you.

"are you still going to pout all night?" michael asked quietly, leaning forward slightly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. his voice was soft, but there was a sharp edge of frustration underneath it.

"i'm not pouting. i'm enjoying the silence," you shot back, keeping your voice low as you gave him a sweet, incredibly fake smile. "it's much better than listening to you rush me."

before michael could reply, a waitress smoothly approached the table. "bonsoir, welcome to l'ambroisie. i am celline, and i will be taking care of you tonight. can i start you with some of our finest champagne before the first course?"

as the waitress spoke, you kept your eyes on michael, giving him another defiant, stubborn look.

michael didn't say a word. instead, he kept his polite, gentle smile fixed on the waitress, but his right hand slipped slowly into his pants pocket.

his thumb found the power button. he clicked it. a sudden, violent, buzzing hum exploded right against your clit.

"ah—!" the gasp ripped out of your throat before you could stop it. your eyes flew wide, your pupils dilating instantly as a massive shockwave of intense, concentrated heat shot straight up your spine and buzzed through your brain. your body reacted instantly; your thighs clamped shut so hard and fast that your knees knocked against the underside of the table with a sharp thud, causing the water glasses to jingle.

the waitress paused, her pen hovering over her pad. she blinked, looking at you with concern. "are you alright, madame?"

you looked at michael in absolute, horrified shock. your heart was hammering against your ribs, and your breath was suddenly shallow. you couldn't believe it. the panties. they were vibrating. and he had the remote.

michael didn't even flinch. his face was a picture of pure, gentlemanly innocence. he looked at the waitress with a soft, reassuring smile. "she's quite alright, thank you, celline. the paris air is just a bit chilly tonight, and she's a little sensitive to the draft. we will gladly take the champagne, please. and perhaps you could keep the ice water coming throughout the evening?"

"of course, monsieur. right away," celline nodded warmly, completely charmed by his polite demeanor, and turned to walk toward the bar.

the very second her back was turned, you leaned across the table as far as you could, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the mahogany wood. the low, steady hum between your legs was relentless, sending continuous, warm waves of friction directly against your most sensitive spot. you could already feel a heavy dampness blooming in the silk fabric.

"michael," you hissed, your voice shaking so hard you could barely get the words out. "what is this? what did you do to me?"

michael leaned in, resting his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together right under his chin. he looked incredibly handsome, but his eyes were dancing with a dark, wicked amusement that made your stomach flip.

"see why i told you not to wear those, baby?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, velvety purr that was meant for your ears only. "you never want to listen to me. you get so stubborn, and i really, really hate that."

he slid his hand back into his pocket. click. the frequency changed. instead of a steady hum, it began to pulse in a rhythmic, throbbing pattern—slow, then incredibly fast, then slow again.

"oh god," you whimpered, your head dropping. you squeezed your thighs together as hard as you could, desperately trying to stifle the physical sensation, but the pressure only pushed the small, hard motor of the toy directly against your swollen clit. you gasped, a tiny, breathless moan slipping past your lips. you had to bite your tongue to keep from making a scene in the middle of the crowded dining room.

"turn it off," you whispered, glaring at him through eyes that were already glazed over with sudden, intense arousal. "michael, i swear to god, turn it off right now. this isn't funny."

"i'm not laughing, sweetheart," michael replied, his voice still incredibly calm, polite, and steady, though his eyes were burning as he watched your chest heave. "you wanted to be a big girl and make your own decisions. now you have to live with them. i tried to warn you, but you just had to walk out that door."

"you're a jerk," you gasped out, your body trembling as a particularly strong pulse of vibration hit you, making your hips twitch slightly against the plush leather booth. "a selfish, impatient, petty jerk."

michael's jaw clenched. the smug, playful look on his face vanished, replaced by a flash of genuine, frustrated heat. he did not like being called names, especially when he was already running on forty-eight hours of sexual frustration from your arguments.

"is that what i am?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously low. "well, if i'm so petty..."

he reached into his pocket to press the button again, but before he could, a loud, booming voice interrupted the quiet tension of your table.

"michael! my good friend! i cannot believe my eyes!"

you both snapped your heads up. walking toward your table was a very famous european film director, a man michael had worked with on a music video project a couple of years ago. he was loud, flamboyant, incredibly chatty, and loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice.

michael immediately stood up halfway, his professional, polite persona snapping back into place instantly. "pierre! what a wonderful surprise. i didn't know you were in paris."

"ah, just for a few days to scout locations!" pierre boomed, stepping close to the table and shaking michael's hand warmly. "and who is this lovely lady? you must introduce us!"

"this is my fiancée," michael said smoothly, his hand resting casually in his pants pocket. he shot you a quick, warning look. it was a silent command: behave yourself and act normal.

you forced a tight, polite smile onto your face, even though your entire lower body was buzzing like a live wire. "nice to meet you, pierre," you managed to say, though your voice sounded incredibly breathy and strained.

pierre didn't seem to notice. he launched into a long, incredibly detailed, and fast-paced story about his new film, his frustrations with his producers, and his love for french cuisine. he was clearly not going to leave anytime soon.

michael stood there, nodding along, offering polite "uh-huhs" and small smiles, keeping up the appearance of a perfect gentleman. but you could see the tension in his shoulders. his hand was still buried in his pocket, his thumb resting right on the remote.

a sudden, wicked wave of defiance washed over you. your stubbornness wasn't gone; it had just mutated into something far more dangerous. if michael wanted to play games with a remote control in a crowded restaurant, then two could play.

slowly, carefully, you slipped your right foot out of your designer high heel. the cool air of the restaurant felt like ice against your bare skin. under the cover of the long, heavy white tablecloth that draped all the way to the floor, you stretched your leg across the small gap between your seats.

you found his ankle first. you slowly slid your bare toes up his calf, feeling the fabric of his expensive trousers. the very moment your foot made contact, michael's entire body went rigid. his polite nod frozen for a microsecond.

he didn't break eye contact with pierre, but his breathing suddenly got noticeably heavier.

you smirked, feeling a rush of power. you kept going. your foot slid slowly past his knee, traveling up his inner thigh. the heat radiating from him was intense. you kept sliding your foot up until the arch of your bare foot pressed directly against the heavy, rapidly growing bulge in his pants.

michael choked on his own saliva mid-sentence. "...yes, the... the lighting in that scene was... very... creative, pierre."

pierre frowned slightly, looking at him. "are you alright, michael? you sound a bit choked up."

"just... dry throat," michael cleared his throat, his eyes darting down to glare at you with a mixture of shock, frustration, and intense lust.

in immediate retaliation, michael’s thumb aggressively mashed the button inside his pocket.

the vibrator instantly jumped to its absolute highest, wildest setting.

"mmph!" you bit your bottom lip so hard you could taste the metallic tang of copper. your eyes rolled back for a split second as a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. your body shook, your toes curling as the high-powered vibrations literally buzzed through your entire nervous system. your core was pooling with heat, completely soaked, and your body was screaming for release.

but you refused to let him win. you refused to pull your foot away. instead, you curved your foot, gripping his hardness through the fabric of his suit. you began to slowly, deliberately stroke him. you rubbed the arch of your foot up and down his length, pressing hard, letting him feel exactly how much he was affecting you, and how much you were going to affect him in return.

michael's face flushed a bright, deep red. a thick vein popped out on his neck, and his knuckles turned completely white where he was gripping the edge of the table to keep his balance.

"michael?" pierre asked, now looking genuinely concerned. "mon ami, you look very hot. are you having a fever?"

"i... yes," michael gasped out, his voice incredibly husky, thick, and completely ruined. he couldn't keep his composure for another second. his hand in his pocket was shaking. "it is... very warm in here. pierre, please excuse us. my fiancée... she is feeling very ill. we must leave immediately."

"oh! of course, of course! take care of her!" pierre said, stepping back.

before the director could even finish his sentence, michael grabbed your hand, pulled you out of the booth, threw a messy fistful of hundred-dollar bills onto the table without even counting them, and practically dragged you out of the restaurant and into the cool, rainy paris night.

the moment the heavy door of the luxury town car slammed shut, the quiet interior of the vehicle felt like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

before the driver, jean, could even put the car in drive, michael reached forward with a sudden, aggressive jerk and slammed the black privacy partition shut. the sharp clack of the glass sealing you off was the starting gun.

"what the hell was that?!" michael turned on you, his voice deep, angry, and completely stripped of his usual gentle tone. but his eyes were wide, dark, and wild with a dangerous amount of lust. he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you across the leather seat until your chest slammed against his. "you almost embarrassed us in front of one of the biggest directors in europe! you are so incredibly stubborn, you never listen to a single word i say!"

"because you treat me like a child!" you yelled back, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and overstimulation. "you left those panties in my drawer on purpose! you wanted me to wear them!"

"i bought them for us to use in bed!" he growled, his gentlemanly restraint finally snapping. "not for you to tease me with under a table in public!"

before you could shoot another smart remark back at him, michael’s lips slammed down onto yours.

the kiss was rough, messy, and absolutely explosive. it was filled with the bitter taste of forty-eight hours of arguing, mixed with a desperate, starving hunger that had been building between you for weeks. you groaned loudly into his mouth, your hands flying to his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue demanded entry, tasting you deeply.

you couldn't take the distance anymore. you needed him. you scrambled up, swinging your leg over his lap until you were fully straddling his thighs, your dress riding up to your hips.

the very second your pelvis slammed down onto his hard length, you both let out a loud, breathless gasp.

the vibrating toy was trapped perfectly between your pubic bones. the heavy, intense vibrations from the high setting were transferring directly through the thin lace of your panties and right into his throbbing erection, while pressing relentlessly back against your swollen, wet clit.

"oh, god," michael groaned, his head falling back against the leather headrest. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist. "oh, baby... what are you doing to me?"

"now you feel it," you whimpered, your head spinning as the crazy high vibration buzzed straight through your pelvis, vibrating through his hard shaft at the exact same time.

you began to grind your hips down on him in a slow, heavy circle, your wet heat rubbing ruthlessly against his zipper. the dual stimulation was so intense your vision blurred. you could feel him twitching under you, rock hard and straining against his pants.

"i was just so mad," michael confessed, his voice breaking, completely vulnerable as he looked up at you with blown-out, glassy eyes. his hand shook in his pocket, hitting the pulse button again, making the toy beat in deep, heavy thuds right against your clit. "i hated... i hated fighting with you so much. i didn't want us to be like this. i was just being impatient because i wanted everything to be perfect for us, and then you wouldn't even look at me."

you let out a soft cry, your body melting as the sheer pleasure of his words and the heavy thrumming between your legs began to break down all your anger. "i wanted you too, michael. i was just so stubborn... i thought you were just trying to control me, and it made me so angry."

"i would never want to control you, baby," he gasped, his hips bucking up slightly, sending a wave of electric friction right through your soaked lace. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry i rushed you. i'm sorry i was so impatient."

"i'm sorry too," you cried out, tears of overwhelming pleasure finally leaking from your eyes as you buried your face in his neck, biting the soft skin there as you ground down harder. "i'm sorry... oh god, michael, it feels too good."

"yes, yes, grind on me, sweetheart," he groaned, his hands moving from your waist to grip your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling you down hard against him. "show me how much you want me. tell me you're mine."

"i'm yours," you gasped, your body completely taking over as you began to dry hump him with a fast, desperate hunger. the thick fabric of his suit pants and the silk of your dress created a burning, tight friction that was driving you both insane. you were completely soaked, the wetness bleeding through your lace and dampening his trousers.

every time you slid down, the toy buzzed violently against your clit and his shaft, sending sharp, electric jolts of pleasure straight to your brain.

michael was panting heavily, his neck flushed red, his head tossing from side to side against the leather seat. "god, you're so wet... i can feel you soaking right through my pants, baby. you're driving me crazy. grind harder, yes, just like that."

you moved your hips faster, matching his desperate, upward thrusts. the car cabin was filled with the hot, heavy sound of your wet friction, the frantic buzzing of the toy, and your mingled, breathless moans. you could feel the tight coil of your climax wrapping tight in your lower stomach, threatening to snap.

"michael, i'm close... i'm going to come, oh god, i can't hold it," you sobbed, your hands clutching his broad shoulders, your fingernails digging into his skin through his jacket.

"come for me, baby. rub right against me and let it go," michael pleaded, his voice completely wrecked, his hips bucking up with a heavy, relentless force to meet every single downstroke. "let me feel you shake."

you let out a loud, uninhibited cry as your climax ripped through you. your internal muscles clamped down hard, pulsing in tight, desperate waves against him. the sheer, raw intensity of the orgasm made your entire body tremble, your head falling onto his shoulder as you sobbed from the pleasure.

seeing you undo like that broke michael completely. with a loud, guttural roar, he bucked his hips up hard, his body locking up as he came. his release came in heavy, hot surges, soaking completely through his underwear and the expensive grey wool of his trousers, staining them as he pumped desperately against your twitching body.

you both collapsed against each other, chests heaving in perfect sync, your hearts hammering wildly against each other's ribs. the car was quiet, save for your ragged breathing and the slow, dying hum of the vibrator as michael finally turned it off.

after a long, quiet minute, neither of you moved. you just held each other tightly, the lingering sparks of pleasure slowly fading into a warm, comfortable glow.

then, a soft, bubbly laugh escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet car. michael let out a breathless, beautiful chuckle of his own, burying his face in your messy hair and kissing your temple. "we are absolutely crazy."

"yeah, we are," you smiled, finally sitting up and smoothing your hair back, looking down at his lap. both of your eyes landed on the exact same spot at the exact same time.

right at the crotch of his expensive, custom-tailored grey trousers was a very large, very noticeable, dark wet spot.

michael stared at it, then looked up at you with a mix of utter disbelief, shock, and sheer amusement. "well. i definitely cannot walk through the main lobby of the hotel looking like this."

smiling warmly, he reached over and pressed the intercom button for the driver. "jean? change of plans. please pull into the VIP side entrance. the one with the private elevator."

pairing: michael jackson x female reader

summary: you had noticed the lingering glances your boyfriend michael gave whenever you wore heels, and especially when you would have a fresh pedicure. it was cute at first, and you appreciated that he actually noticed things like that. however, one day you decided to mess with him a little, and found out that michael definitely liked every part of you more than you even realized

cws: 18+ mdni, established relationship, baby’s first time writing foot stuff (but not too in-depth don’t worry), smut, semi soft dom reader teases michael, use of blindfold/scarf, switch michael, switch reader towards the end, unprotected sex, a little spanking

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this is my first mj fic on tumblr little nervous 😭 tbh i am not into feet personally, but i saw a few tweets with michael… appreciating them a little. an idea was born and now we have the result. sorry not sorry about it 🤭 pls excuse any typos!!

· · ─────── ✿ ✿ ✿ ─────── · ·

Michael had always been an attentive, loving, and wonderful boyfriend. In many ways, your relationship was like a fairytale - he certainly made you feel like a princess, anyway. While he was the perfect gentleman, he was still a man at the end of the day. His lingering looks didn’t go unnoticed by you, but it did make you smile. While your physical intimacy wasn’t nonexistent, it certainly wasn’t as frequent as you may have preferred. It wasn’t that either of you didn’t want it, quite the opposite in fact, it was just that Michael was very busy, and you didn’t want to come off as a clingy girlfriend (not that he would mind).

There was one thing Michael was a little shy about, and it was something you had picked up on only recently. It was just a few weeks back, right after you had gone to the nail salon that you had noticed it - a prolonged glance at your feet, a small flush creeping up his neck, and the cute little giggle he always did when he was nervous.

“Really love that color on you,” Michael had said, his eyes finally reaching yours. “Looks so cute, baby.”

You had smiled brightly, planting a kiss right on his lips. “Picked it out just for you,” you told him. “I’m glad you like it.”

From that moment on, you had made it a point to become a bit of a tease. One day, you adorned your toes in new toe rings as you and Michael lounged by the pool, and you would smile every time you saw his gaze wandering. Another time during sex, with your legs resting on his shoulders and him buried deep inside of you, you ran the side of your foot just along his jaw. It was only for a moment, but he noticed, and you were rewarded with an orgasm so earth-shattering that you had forgotten your name for a moment.

It was a bit of a game, kind of like a cat and mouse, and you got a thrill each time. Feet weren’t exactly something that turned you on, but you certainly liked Michael’s reaction to your feet. Maybe it was the love you had for him, or maybe it was just that he was the best lover you’d ever had, but it made you curious. Curious enough that you hatched a plan.

The air was filled with electricity as you got ready, nerves coursing through your veins. You had plans to meet Michael at his place tonight, probably to watch a movie or something similar. It was a no pressure evening, just some relaxing cuddles and downtime together. You on the other hand had plans to turn the night into something else entirely. In fact, you’d picked out a brand new pair of heels specifically for the occasion. You glanced down at your toes, smiling at the exact shade of red Michael had complimented just a few short weeks ago. You were going to amp the teasing up tonight, that was for sure. Michael always spoiled you, wasn’t it only be fair to return the favor?

The entire car ride over in Michael’s car, driven by Bill, you were squirming in your seat. It was a mix of excitement and anxiety,

and all you could hope was that you were right about this and that Michael would be pleased by how the night was bound to pan out.

You thanked Bill as you got out, and he shot you a wink and a cheeky smile. “You know where to find me,” he told you, tipping his hat as a way of goodbye.

You smiled, laughing a little. “Thank you as always, Bill,” you said, wishing him a good night as you all but floated up the pathway that led to Michael’s door.

Before you could even knock, the door was flying open, and Michael was pulling you into his arms with a kiss. “I missed you,” he said, peppering kisses across your cheeks and nose.

You couldn’t help but giggle, kissing him back every time his lips hovered above yours. “Mike, you saw me yesterday.”

“That was so long ago,” he teased, closing the door behind you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

You smiled, kissing the side of his neck once as you bent down to take off your shoes. “I missed you too,” you said. “Always.”

Michael smiled once more, glancing down as you removed the heels from your feet. “Are those new?” He asked, his voice a little deeper than it had been before.

“Yeah,” you replied, biting your lip to hide your smile. Of course he had noticed. “Do you like them?” You asked, glancing up.

You noticed the bob of his throat as he gulped quietly. “They’re really pretty,” he said. “You got your toes done, too?”

“I remembered that you liked this color,” you told him. “I’m so happy you noticed.”

Michael smiled, his cheeks flushing a little. “Here, baby,” he said, scooping up your shoes in his hand. “Let’s bring these into my room. Don’t want any of the animals getting at them.”

You smiled at that, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Of course Michael liked the shoes and the nail polish. Your plan was falling into place exactly as you’d wanted. “You’re so thoughtful, baby,” you told him, giving him a kiss on the cheeks as you laced your fingers through his, looking at your shoes held tightly in his other hand. “Love you so much.”

Michael smiled, pulling you a little closer to him as he led you down the hallway. “Love you too, so much more.”

You gave him one more kiss before you reached his room, and he opened the door for you with the nod of his head. You smiled, walking inside, giggling a little as he set your heels by his door as he closed it shut. “Come here,” you said, motioning him over with the crook of your finger. “Wanna be close to you.”

Michael smiled, walking towards you before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his body. He backed you up slowly until your knees hit the bed, and before you knew it your back was against the mattress and Michael was pressed against you from above, kissing up the side of your neck. You were thrilled, albeit a little surprised - Michael had certainly initiated intimacy before, but it was usually after the two of you caught up, or at least watched a movie or something.

“Michael,” you said, your breath catching as he sucked on a sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Take off my clothes.”

Michael obliged the request, removing your dress almost instantly. He kissed down your chest, lowering your bra enough to reveal the tips of your breasts. He kissed the sensitive skin and you let out a sigh of content, and before you knew it he was unclasping the garment and tossing it somewhere beside him. “Lift up,” he said, voice deep. He patted at your hips.

You nodded, pushing your hips up enough so that he could remove your panties. You got a little carried away in the feeling of his mouth as he kissed up your thighs, spreading them so he could kiss towards where you were already throbbing for his touch. “Wait,” you breathed, fighting back a moan. You wanted him so badly, but you didn’t want to get lost in your own pleasure before you had a little fun with him first. “Michael,” you said, grabbing his shoulder below you. You sat up on your elbows, a shy smile crossing your face. “I wanna try something new.”

“What is it?” Michael asked, already a little dazed as he looked up with what was close to a pout, resting his cheek against your inner thigh.

You took a deep breath, biting your bottom lip. “I, um…” you trailed off, glancing over to his desk chair near the bed. “Can you go sit in that chair?” You asked him. “I wanna surprise you with something.”

“Sure,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled. “I promise it’ll be a fun surprise,” you smiled. “I hope.”

Michael pressed one more kiss to your leg before he stood up, pulling out the chair. “How do you want me?” He asked, smirking.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Here, have the chair face me,” you suggested, watching him follow-suit. “Take a seat and close your eyes.” You glanced over towards his closet, smiling to yourself. You spotted exactly what you needed, a thrill running through you.

“I’m being patient, baby, but what is it?” Michael asked, his tone borderline pleading.

“Almost ready,” you told him, grabbing the fabric scarf. You walked towards him, placing the material against his face as you tied the rest behind the back of his head. “Just to make sure you aren’t peeking, pretty boy.”

Michael stilled. “This is new,” he said, voice trembling just slightly. You glanced down to his lip, smiling as you noticed the tent is his jeans.

“I’ve been thinking,” you smiled, walking across the room so you could put your heels back. You made your way back to your boyfriend before you sat across his lap, taking note of the small hiss he let out at the contact. Him being totally clothed and you almost completely naked, other than your heels, was making your head spin. “I just wanna make you feel good, baby. You’ve been so good to me.”

Michael smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as you kissed lazily at his neck, rocking forward in his lap. “I always feel good with you,” he said, biting down on his lip.

“I’m just going to give something a try,” you told him, sucking at his warm skin between words. “If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

“O-okay,” Michael sighed, nodding his head. He was achingly hard against you, and your arousal was making a bit of a mess on his jeans. His hands gripped at you tighter, and he turned his head to give you more access to his neck.

You rocked against him for a few more moments, kissing up and down his neck and lips until he was moaning between kisses. Michael was usually vocal in bed, but it was still so early and you could tell he wasn’t expecting to get so worked up so quickly. Good, you thought, smiling. “Stay still for me,” you said, kissing him once before you got up off of his lap. You stood back a little, admiring his state of arousal before you leaned in, your lips ghosting the shell of his ear. “I’ve noticed you looking at me, Michael. At my feet,” you said, voice low.

Michael let out a small whimper at that. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, hands gripping the bottom of the chair. “I’ve tried not to.”

“It’s okay, sweet boy. You like what you see?” You asked, standing up so you could run your heel up his leg.

Michael let out a groan, shifting forward at the contact. “Yes,” he said, so quietly that you could barely hear him.

“What was that, baby?” You taunted, pushing his legs apart with your own leg. You smirked, bending your knee so you could place the ball of your shoe right against his groin. “Be a good boy for me and speak up. This is all for you. Wanna make sure I’m doing what you want.” You pressed more weight into your foot, smiling at his moan.

“Yes,” he said, louder this time. “Yes, I love your beautiful feet.”

You smiled, rolling your ankle a little so you could continue to apply pressure against him. “So is this okay, baby? You want this, right?”

“Oh God,” Michael groaned, throwing his head back. He shifted his hips forward once, bucking into the pressure of your foot. “Yes. You have no idea how much I want this.”

“I’m so happy I can do this for you, Michael,” you cooed, leaning forward so you could press a kiss to his forehead. “Do you wanna see what I’m doing to you, baby? You look so cute.”

Michael nodded, rocking up against you once more. “Yes, please.”

You giggled, stepping off of him so you could steady yourself a little better. “Okay, but no touching unless I say,” you said, making a tsk sound between your teeth. “Or else I’m gonna have to tie you up. You can listen, right? Keep those hands to yourself.”

“Yes,” Michael nodded eagerly.

You reached around to untie the scarf, allowing it to drop to the floor before you gave Michael a kiss. “You’re so hard, Mikey. My foot feels that good?”

“So embarrassing,” Michael groaned, heat creeping up his neck.

“It’s sexy,” you assured him, stretching out a leg to push him back with the tip of your heel. His back pressed into the chair, and you smiled. “Can you take my shoes off for me?”

Michael bit his lip, looking down at where your shoe was pressed against his chest. With a nod, he wrapped his hands around your ankle and unclasped the strap, carefully sliding the shoe off of your foot. He tossed it over the arm of the chair, grabbing hold of your bare foot. He massaged into the ball of your foot, pupils blown wide.

You wriggled your foot free, switching weight to your other leg as you brought up your other heel. “One more, baby. Thank you so much.”

Michael smiled a little, letting out a shaky breath as he freed your second foot from the constraint of the heel.

“Hands to your sides,” you told him, smiling.

Michael dropped your foot quickly, following the instructions.

You trailed your foot down to his crotch, passing your toes over his erection. He moaned at the contact, and you smiled, pressing harder into him. He could only stand a few more moments before he grabbed your ankle, pausing your movements.

“Get on the bed,” he told you, voice low.

You shivered, releasing your foot from his grasp with a smile. You turned around, glancing at Michael from over your shoulder. “How do you want me?”

“Get on your hands and knees,” he said, unbuckling his jeans. You saw him free his dick from his pants, lowering them just enough but still remaining clothed. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You crawled on to the bed then, palms flat against the mattress and back arched, thighs spread enough to make room for Michael. He tugged you backwards a bit and you felt his hardness against your ass, causing you to moan. He slipped one hand around the front of your waist, traveling between your thighs.

“So wet,” he said, almost in a whisper. His middle finger was stroking between your folds before it eventually found your clit, and he lazily rubbed it back and forth. “I think you liked that too.”

“Michael,” you moaned, pressing back against him again. His finger was picking up speed now. “Hurry up.”

“A little impatient,” he said, kissing the back of your neck as he began to rub the head of his dick at your entrance. “You think you can take me?”

“Please,” you groaned, trying to push back around his length. “I can take it.”

“Hm,” Michael sighed, pressing his tip in but just barely. Before you could form a retort, you felt the smack of his hand against your ass. “You’ve been a little naughty tonight, baby. Are you sure you deserve it?”

“Mikey,” you said, no shame in your pleading tone. He was still rubbing at your clit and you were already chasing your release, your wet arousal leaking out of you. “Just fuck me.”

Michael stilled for a moment before he finally pushed in with a hard thrust, your breath catching as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate his size. It almost always hurt a little when he first entered you, but the burn was dizzying in a good way. Before you knew it, you were sucking him in, and his thrusts were hard and deep. The fingers on your clit never relented, and you pressed back to meet his strokes as you felt yourself begin to squeeze around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, head falling forward. “Don’t stop.”

Michael groaned in response, speeding up his thrusts enough to send you over the edge. You let out a shrill moan, body convulsing as he kept going inside of you. Your arms shook and you fell forward, face hitting the mattress. Michael pulled out, turning you over so that you were flat on your back. He began to stroke himself, groaning at your state of fucked-out bliss.

“Let me cum on your feet, baby,” he said, tone shifting into a whine. “I’m so close.”

You smiled at him, stretching both legs out towards him. Your toes extended, and Michael sped up, moaning. He didn’t have time to warn you before you felt his release on your toes, shooting up the top of your feet. You watched with rapt attention as he fell apart, hips thrusting into his hand, his eyes on your feet the entire time.

He collapsed forward, spreading your legs so he could wrap your thighs around his waist, kissing the side of your neck sweetly. “I really liked your surprise,” he said, laughing gently. “That was really sexy.”

You giggled, rolling over on top of him. You settled your body against his, kissing him once before you rested your chin on his chest, eyes trailing up to meet his gaze. “Well, I’m glad you liked it, baby. There’s definitely more where that came from.”

no tolerance

summary. michael has gotten fed up with your antics.

❛ mean!michael jackson　𝑥　𝒻 black woc!reader ❜     ╱    𝓶.list 𓂋 mdni. you are beyond spoiled, bratty, & entitled. michael & his sugar baby. age gap. michael acknowledges his age. brat tamer?michael. michael grabs your jaw out of authority. both reader and michael refer to him as daddy (pls don't through rocks at me). no real smut but at the end michael makes you hump his shoe as punishment. ℘ 2.708k

𝓻𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐫𝐞⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝⠀!

michael is a patient man, an extremely patient one at that. withstanding more than the normal person from years of deliberate work into maintaining appearances. but he knew from the moment i saw you that you'd put him through the ringer. all pout and entitlement paired with big eyes and long lashes that you only have to bat a few times to get michael wrapped further around your finger like a snug ring.

you tested him like no other and pushed your luck far too many times that caused him to a nearly snap. and tonight? oh, tonight was a complete disaster. the two of you showed up late with clear tension, your hands that are usually photograph all snug under michael's side beneath his suit jacket are snug in your crossed arms, a clear rebellion on your part to show everyone that you are not happy to be here right now. while michael has a tight grip on your waist, partially so he can guide you around the event and partially so he can pinch at your waist to remind you to 'wipe that look of your face'. the photographers couldn't even get a proper photo of the couple because you just kept moving your face, using your hair to shield it from the clicks and lights from the camera. even ducking your head into the crook of michael's neck before you full maneuver your body so the photographers are only catching your backside in the photos, which only entices a stoic "behave" from him.

this behavior only carried on throughout the night. huffing and rolling your eyes at conversation, being disengaged and downright disrespectful michael thinks when you continuously cut him off. during a moment alone michael attempts to get you in check again, "you're acting like a child."

his only hope was that you'd realize this little act that you're putting is not to be tolerated, but all he got was a blank stare, "okay, and?" you replied with clear annoyance. the start of you walking away before michael's hold on your waist brings you back into his chest.

"wanna be a disrespectful brat? then i'll treat you like one." all of his patience gone and all of his pent up nerves balled up in the word brat.

and so the two of you left the event, the limo still parked from when you two were dropped because he had requested his driver stay for the duration of the event, already know that you would've pushed him too far to even stay for the entire time. but don't mistake michael, you're still his girl and he's still a gentleman that still opens the door for your and guides you into the backseat of the limo.

what caused this you might ask? your dress . . . no serious your dress. makeup had gotten on your dress which caused a domino effect of distress, cries, and into a full blown tantrum from you. not even the large soothing hand of michael's hand rubbing down and up again of the length of your back could cause you to calm down. in fact his reassuring words of how you have a back up dress made it worse. because although you thankfully brought one, you didn't want to wear it, so of course through sobs you spoke incoherently about how you don't want to wear the backup dress, how it's a backup dress for speaking out loud, it's meant to stay as a backup not become the dress. into you babbling about how it's not the vision, how you and michael are no longer going to match and that's your guy's signature.

it got to a point where michael tried. but every time he tried to comfort you a stream of tears only came. so when he look at his watch and saw that there was an hour till the event he ran a hand over his face, "gonna be breathtaking no matter what dress you're wearing," he enthuses, he knows the words are true, but he also knows how you take the material stuff more serious than him. placing a kiss to your temple and walking out of the room, signaling to the crew of people who were getting you ready who were banished by you when the makeup got on your dress to continue their work.

"y'know how much i hate being late." it's the first thing spoken between the two of you since the silent car ride and elevator up to the hotel room. and the comment makes you roll your eyes, something you know you could only be doing because michael unlocked and let you into the room first.

"but my-"

"your dress," michael cuts you off, perfectly in sync with when he turned the lock to the door, "i know all 'bout it, honey."

that, is what ticked you off, his condescending tone. "okay, well you don't have to use that tone with me." stilling in your tacks and turning around just for michael to be right there, taking a small step back.

michael chuckles, darkly, but nonetheless the first real chuckle of the night and it makes your stomach flip because you know it's at you. and you're expecting something from him, a fire back, but he does the worse thing he can do. walk right past you.

gaining your senses and hurriedly following behind him into the bedroom of the hotel and plopping yourself down on the bed, because what he's not going to do is make you look dumb for standing in the hallway all alone.

when you lean down to start undoing the straps of your heels you catch sight of michael undoing his tie with ease with on hand, not only working you up but making you further pissed. "it's not just a dress," said with all pout, the only way you're able to press this argument more is by concentrating on getting your heels off. sitting up and sighing with relief when you kick them off.

"then wha' is it then?" michael asks, stalking towards where you sit at the edge of the bed.

you're eyes shift around the room. you're really grabbing at straws right now. because it is just a dress, you know that, but it's all of the things that unfolded that caused the night to turn out drastically different than you thought it would (albeit to your doing). but all you can think about rather than being rational and sharing this with michael is being the one who wins this argument, if it even is one.

"it's you being inconsiderate."

you royally fucked up. and you know you did from the moment the first word rolled off your tongue, which is exactly why you turned you head to stare out the large hotel window and not into michael's face when you label him as inconsiderate when you know he is the one person farthest from the word.

michael's jaw clenches when that word comes from your lips. your very pretty lips that shine in the dim light of the room from your lip gloss, your very pretty lips that look extra pretty when they're apart as you moan out for him, and look even prettier when they're wrapped around his length to keep you from saying such disrespectful things.

"look at me." it's said with weight, with authority as his voice drops deeper. but you're unmoving. "don' make me have to repeat myself." a shiver runs through your spine, the only movement you made was not to turn and look at him but was to sit up straighter. feeling pathetic that michael compels you this deeply.

a beat of silence follows, and it isn't until your name is said in michael's voice that snaps your head into where he looms right in front of you. because he never says your name. you're baby, or honey, or sweetheart, or princess, or mama. you can really list off all of the nicknames michael uses for you before he ever uses your name to refer to you, not even when he's talking about you to other people does he say your name.

"all it took t'make you listen," he rumbles. still not satisfied that instead of you looking him in the face, your eyes are trained on his abdomen. taking matters into his own hands by grabbing at your jaw with his large hand, fingers pressing into the softness of your cheeks. tipping your head upward so you have other choice but to look him in the face, and michael can't even lie. it takes strength to discipline you, especially when you're staring up at him with your eyes already glazed over.

"when i ask you t'look at me you what?" quizzing you by quirking his eyebrow, expecting you to answer back and pleased when you do.

"look at you." you manage to mutter past michael squishing your cheeks.

michael nods at your words for once, "now tell me wha' makes me so inconsiderate?" except this time he releases your jaw to allow you to properly answer his question, allowing his hand fall down the column of your neck and settle across the base of it just above your clavicle.

you know he's humoring you, but you still answer, just not the way he wanted. "'cus my dress got ruined," pausing to swallow the lump in your throat, you know you're at the point of no return, feeling further on edge at the gentleness at which michael's thumb soothes at the side of your neck, "you saw how upset i was, so we should've just not gone."

michael is surprising calm in this moment, his movements stilled as her glances down at you past his heavy lids. "do i not do enough for you?"

the question is not what you expect, "that's not-"

but just like before, the hand that michael kept in safe distance at the base of your neck raises once more to cup your jaw again. "it's exactly that. 'ave you gone so rotten that y'think i'll no show an event jus' 'cus a dress bought with my money got ruined?" michael proses with restraint that only causes his tone to fall scarily flat.

and for the first time in the night you're left speechless. completely at michael's mercy, much like a lamb caught in the canines of a wolf's. it's the small tap of michael's index and middle finger against your cheek that grounds you, "it was a question, sweetheart."

the use of a nickname causes your eyes to turn from glazed to full blown glassy, tears beginning to swell in your waterline. your mouth opening then closing, because there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you can say to pull yourself out of this. "i-" you start, squirming underneath michael's hard gaze, you don't think there's anything that could pull his attention away from you right now, and you usually relish in that, but now all you want to do is shield yourself from it, "i don't know," is all you can muster out, feeling defeated.

michael's jaw clenches then unclenches, and you swear some of the hardness in his eyes soften over. "think y'jus' love bein' difficult." the hand clasped around you jaw squeezes, your cheeks squishing and lips pouting. "both know i'll give y'the world if y'asked. 'nd we both know i'll buy the entire stock of that damn dress if it made y'happy," he acknowledges, lowering himself down to your eye level, your jaw still in hand, "'m getting old, 'nd my tolerance for this behavior is thinning. so fix it, yeah?"

nodding your head the best you can, "yes, daddy," it comes out meek, but it causes michael to grin from ear to ear. pressing a pack to your pouted mouth before releasing your jaw, standing straight and walking himself over to the armchair in the corner of the hotel bedroom.

when he sits down in the seat he groans, throwing his head back and rolling his neck, letting his eyes fall shut for just a moment. "now c'mere and hump daddy's shoe," said with authority, as the hand that was around your jaw becks you over to him.

rubbing your thighs together and heart pounding into your ears as your eyes trail down the length of michael's relaxed body in the armchair to his sleek black dress shoe, "'nd no touching, so arms behind your back, baby."

♡ Tags: PORN WITHOUT PLOT • THRILLER! ERA • Soft dom! Michael • Sub! Reader • Getting so turned on he got a nosebleed ● feverish fucking ● unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys, not in this economy pls) ● creampie ● no beta we die like the world soon

◇ Word Count: 1.5k

》 tumblr debut whoop whoop! I never really detail my readers so feel free to imagine whatever kekeke

We just saw a Black African-American teen die, who was the only black person amongst your kind. Why is it always that way??You know AAVE but you don’t know the struggles and consequences that come behind being BLACK!! It’s irritating!!!!

Recently, Britain specifically has been threatening to deny visas to people who are requesting reparations for all the DAMAGE they’ve caused!!! How crazy is that! They literally RAPED the Caribbean of everything, brought their diseases, and dipped. You guys are literally EVERYWHERE!!! Let us black people have something for ourselves for once!!! Also, nothing is wrong with people of all colours races etc writing for a person of a specific race (At least I don't think so) it’s the way you went about it!!! And you’ve had your account for months and not ONCE did you think to clear that up???

Be fr who looked at your account and said wow that must be because her hair is black or whatever tf your hair colour is???? You telling me you couldn’t use the base name for a hair colour?? Brunette? Something???? You tying yourself up in a big long rope of lies and deception!!!! The more you say stuff, the more I’m getting pissed off because it’s a bunch of bs, and I know you know it’s a bunch of bs!!!! That’s what’s irritating!!! What are you getting out of this???? You showing your friends oh look how I got all these black people COONING over me???? You were giddy from behind your screen looking like a Quaker. We just didn’t know it yet. We’ve, well I’ve been giving you unnecessary power without even knowing it😭

I had my own experience with you that turned me ALLL the way off. I knew something was off with your ass from that point on. Such a shame you had to be a popular blog. I really loved your work. But you're just another one of them. I was just hoping and praying the day came when everyone saw your fake ass like I did. And all those coons running to your rescue are a BIG part of society’s problem and why this shit will NEVER END. The more they save your fraudulent, condescending ass, the more years each one of them is setting us back. Let me let y'all know something, all this running around and kissing white people's ass? Yeah? They'll NEVER return the favour!! You're gonna be waiting like a lovesick puppy looking stuck on stupid!

No matter if you like being black or not they only see colour!(the one thing they say that they don't see which is yet again, bs.) They saw colour when they made separate bathrooms, they saw colour when they wouldn't allow black people to enter certain establishments! Oh they saw colour THEN! South Africa anyone? Segregation? The fact that you needed an ID to get into a community, and if you were black on the white side of town, you were arrested and received harsh treatment?? Sharpeville Massacre? Steve Biko was one of the main leaders of that movement, putting his life on the line for us!! Y'all started this shit, and it's gonna keep going, unfortunately. It's so great, you can be black here, deceiving all your homegirls with your TikTok slang and use of AAVE, then log off and be a white woman! That duality must have been amazing! Shame we can't all do that!! If you don't see colour, then you don't see me! Simple as that.

You can never win when you play dirty. You can NEVER. WIN.

⟢ Calling sub!mikey daddy — 18+ (mdni)

I’m probably so annoying about this because i incorporate it into basically every fic, but i just…can’t stop writing you calling michael daddy solely to tease him, and not even because you like it for yourself. You do it just to get a rise out of him too, not even only in sexual contexts. You’ll greet him in your living room after a studio session, already feeling pent up from a day without his touch and wanting to tease him. “Hi daddy, how was work?” You’ll be golfing with him and his siblings and remember that they call him big daddy as a joke, so you join in because you know it’s different when you say it. “Yeah, big daddy. I thought you were good at golf.” He’ll be balls deep inside of you, and you can feel his dick twitch, signaling he’s closer to his unraveling, so you give him that extra push he loves to hear from you. “F-fuck, daddy. Cum inside. Make me a mommy.”

The only satisfaction you get from it is his reaction; he’ll be flustered and it’ll stroke his ego a LOT, mostly because that’s the kind of stuff he saw in porn when he was inexperienced, so it makes him less insecure about being submissive. But it’ll also mindfuck him because how’s he daddy but you’re always in charge? Isn’t that reserved for girls who let their guys take control? Why does being called a name with such…assertiveness behind it but being a living footstool for you turn him on so much? As much as he enjoys it, he still feigns being disinterested with the honorific.

The first time you say it, he almost loses his shit. “Oh, God. That’s so dirty!” he’ll giggle, trying to ignore the way it makes blood flow through his whole body. Or, the first time you actually find out about the siblings’ big daddy joke, and he gets flustered because of the devious look on your face at the information. When you two sneak off from the group, he almost…cockily explains to you how the nickname is because of his star power. “Yeah, they call me that because of all the girls who used to say it to me on tour…Feels special comin’ from you though.” And there are the times where you’ll have been teasing him all day, letting him “play” dominant outside in public but making him try to take everything he wants in bed, saying stuff like “You want me to touch you? Oh, but you’re daddy, remember? You should know exactly what to do. You should know how to take it on your own,” and he’ll respond by saying “S-stop calling me that,” or, “You’re right, I’m not daddy. I’ll stop pretendin’, please” or, “No…I’m angelface…” when he’s at his weakest.

⋆˚࿔

౨ৎ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋

𑣲⋆ thriller! era michael jackson x reader ⠀₊⠀ ׁ⠀ word count — 866

summary : you’ve had a lot to drink, and your boyfriend unfortunately is left to deal with the consequences.

includes : fluff, established relationship, girlfriend reader, intoxicated behavior, michael taking care of you when you’re drunk, etc

a/n : ngl i lowkey hate this but i’m only realizing now that it’d probably be much more cuter if the roles were reversed whatever tho we ball

m.list

He was never going to let you drink again.

Michael stumbled into your apartment with a quiet sigh, his arms securely wrapped beneath your thighs as you clung to him without a care in the world, your head resting lazily against his shoulder.

That favorite lavender incense of yours you routinely lit drifted faintly through the air, clinging to your home.

“You’re a real piece of work,” he murmured, mostly into your hair.

You responded with nothing but a string of incoherent words that barely resembled a sentence as you smothered your cheek further into the crook of his neck, tousling the collar of his kiss-covered white dress shirt.

He shook his head, unable to hide the small smile of amusement tugging at his mouth. You were far too gone.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

After kicking off his loafers by the door, he carried you further into the apartment and carefully lowered you onto the velvet couch.

It hadn’t felt that way, though.

“Not ‘s harshly..” you whined, giving him a hazy-eyed glare.

Michael looked you over once you were settled, your knees tucked close while his dark blazer was still worn around your shoulders.

His eyebrows knitted together, the amusement on his face mixing with the concern he’d been trying to hide all night.

“Sorry.”

You only hummed in response.

He crouched in front of you and reached for the straps of your sparkly heels, unfastening them.

You shifted, squinting down at him as you frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking your shoes off.”

You blinked.

“Why?”

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, a coy smile on his lips.

“Cause they’ve been hurting your feet for the last hour.”

Before you could argue, he slipped them off and stood, carrying them toward the entryway before placing them neatly on the shoe shelf. While he was at it, he did the same to his loafers.

As he turned back, you snuggled deeper into the cushions, the sides of your face overtaken with the heat of being intoxicated.

“You’re annoying.” you murmured, closing your eyes.

Michael raised an eyebrow as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

“I’m annoying?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

You yawned, Michael filling the glass with water.

“..Cause I never said you could take ‘em off.”

He returned with the water and sat beside you, the cushions dipping slightly beneath his weight.

“You were complaining outside that they hurt.”

He reached out, helping you sit upright.

“S’not the point.”

Michael guided the glass into your hands, making sure you actually drank.

“What is the point, then?”

You took a few slow sips, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and looked at him.

Really looked at him, your drooping eyes being the most focused they’d been all night.

“…You’re pretty.”

A quiet breath of laughter left him, the man taking a sip of the water himself.

“You’ve keep saying that.”

You blinked, tilting your head.

“I have?”

He leaned back into the couch, his hands resting in his lap.

“You have.”

You watched as he began to list the events.

“You told the valet he was pretty.”

“He had nice hair.” you murmured.

“You told the bartender she had beautiful eyes.”

“She did.” your eyelids fluttered, growing heavier by the second.

He shook his head, setting the glass on the coffee table in front of you.

When he looked back at you, you were still staring with that same intensity.

“…Still,” you began, your fingers brushing against his face—against the red kisses you’d imprinted upon him earlier.

He looked at you, grabbing your wrist before you’d poke him in the eye accidentally.

“Still what?”

You leaned slightly closer, your voice dropping as if you were sharing a secret.

“You’re the prettiest.”

His smile faded into something softer.

silence stretched between you, your fingers wandering to the collar of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you moved closer.

Michael held your shoulders before your lips could meet his.

his grasp hadn’t been harsh, just enough to stop you—to really look at you.

your tousled hair draping over your shoulders, your flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and your slightly parted rose lips.

You looked up at him, confusion on your face as you frowned.

“..Who am i?” he said quietly.

his bambi brown eyes looked tense as they met yours, his hold around your shoulders growing a fraction tighter.

Your brows pulled together.

“What?”

“Who am I?”

You stared at him, failing to understand why he was asking something so obvious.

“…Michael.”

his expression hadn’t eased though. You smile, the back of your hand brushing against his cheekbone.

“my michael.”

For a moment, he just looked at you.

Then a small, quiet, and genuine smile appeared, reaching his eyes.

“Good.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Good?”

“Yeah.”

He looked down, shaking his head slightly.

“I was starting to wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

His smile grew.

“Nothing.”

You studied him suspiciously.

“You’re so weird.”

he laughed. “Maybe.”

He stood and held out his hand.

“Come on.”

You looked up at him, blinking.

“..Where?”

“Let’s get you ready for bed.” He said softly, helping you to your feet.

© nnyeinu