jay ❤︎⁠

PRIMADONNA GIRL!

bad ! era synopsis — the rivalry between you and michael runs deep until one hotel mishap brings you two closer than ever.

content — porn with plot, forced proximity, mean dom! michael and mean switch! reader, cursing, smut, p in v, aphrodisiac, hate sex, dry humping, unprotected, spanking, backshots, choking, riding, lowk brat tamer mike

As the industry’s queen, you didn't just top charts, you made them.

If you wore a certain outfit, it was gospel. If you gave an artist the cold shoulder, their career was essentially on life support. You were charming, yes, but it was a calculated, lethal kind of charm—the kind that you’d lose your mind trying to detect.

And then there was Michael.

For years, the two of you had been locked in a cold war that played out in the headlines. It was a cycle of petty war.

During a Rolling Stone interview, when asked about his latest hit, you hadn't even looked up from your manicure. "Oh, Michael's great," you’d said with a bored, sharp smile. "He’s doing a really impressive job of mimicking the production style I debuted two years ago. It’s sweet, like a little tribute act."

At the Grammys, you’d walked right past his table, deliberately spilling your champagne so that his handlers had to scramble to clean it up, offering nothing but a dead eyed, "Oops, my bad."

Michael didn't play nice, either. In a broadcasted acceptance speech, he’d thanked his team for keeping his music about "real soul" and not just "a pretty voice and PR stunts," a jab so blatant it made the morning headlines the next day.

The night of the International Music Awards, the tension was suffocating. You were draped in a beautifully tight dress, Michael across the aisle in a tailored suit that cost more than a house. You spent the entire ceremony trading glares; every time he caught you looking, he’d just raise a brow, or roll his eyes, completely unimpressed, which only made you want to scream.

By 2:00 AM, you were on your way to the hotel. Your team was exhausted, and you dismissed them with a flick of your wrist. "Go away. I need to sleep for a week."

You swiped your keycard, the light chirped green, and you kicked the door shut behind you, ready to peel off your makeup and collapse. But you stopped dead.

Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket discarded on the floor, rubbing his temples as if he had the world's worst headache. He looked up, startled, his eyes wide.

"What the hell?" you breathed, staring at him like he was a roach in your kitchen.

Michael stood up, looking just as confused as you were. "What’re you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough. "This is my room."

"In your dreams, maybe," you snapped, waving your keycard at him. "This is my suite. I booked the penthouse. Get your shit and get out before I lose my mind."

"I booked the penthouse too, lady," he said, gesturing to his own room key on the nightstand. "I’ve been here for an hour."

You stormed toward him, your heels stabbing into the carpet. "Oh my God, I have absolutely zero desire to be breathing the same air as you right now. Get out you disgusting creep."

"Creep? Are you kidding me?" Michael walked over to the desk, his voice rising in genuine annoyance, dropping all that 'mean' act for a second. "I got here before you, Y/N. I didn't steal your fucking room."

"I’m not spending ten seconds in this room with you."

"You think I want to be stuck with you? You’re the last person I want to see after that shitshow of a ceremony."

You both stared at each other, the annoyance quickly curdling into genuine frustration. "This is a joke, right? Some kind of sick, twisted prank by the hotel?" You marched over to the bedside phone and slammed the receiver off the hook, dialing the front desk with aggressive, angry jabs.

"Yeah, hello?" you barked into the phone, not even waiting for a greeting. "There's a man in my room. A very annoying, very uninvited man. Fix this. Now."

You listened for a moment, your expression twisting into a mask of pure fury. You slammed the phone back down. "They’re 'lookin into it,'" you hissed at him. "Which means they have no clue what’s going on."

"Great," Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just great."

"We’re going to the front desk before I burn this entire Goddamn building down."you hissed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him toward the door.

Downstairs, the front desk clerk looked like he wanted to jump out of a window. He frantically tapped at his computer while you paced in front of the desk, heels clicking hard against the marble floor.

"I’m so, SO sorry," the clerk stammered, his voice shaking. "There was a mishap in the reservation book. The entire hotel is booked for the award show. I have absolutely nothing left."

"I don’t give a shit if you have nothing left," you snarled, your patience completely shredded. "Find me a room, or I’ll have this hotel torn down by morning."

"The only other option is the Riverside Inn," the clerk whispered. "It’s... it’s a two-star motel on the edge of town."

Michael let out a dry, humorless laugh. "A two-star? You’re joking."

"I’m not staying in a dump like that," you snapped, turning to Michael. "Fix it. You’re the 'Global Icon,' right pretty boy? Use your influence…or dance or something. Whatever it is you do to get us a real room."

"Oh, sure, let me just snap my fingers and make a room appear," Michael shot back, his voice starting to lose its patience. "Don't act like this is my fault. I’m just as annoyed as you are, brat."

"Don't call me a brat, asshole," you hissed.

You both stood there, glaring at each other, the lobby staff watching in terrified silence. It was clear: you were too vain to leave, he was too exhausted, and both of you were too stubborn to admit that the only option left was to tolerate each other’s presence for the night.

You looked at Michael, then back at the terrified clerk, your jaw locked. "I hate you," you growled. "I hope you know I’m going to make this the most miserable night of your pathetic life."

Michael just sighed, turning toward the elevator. "Yeah, yeah. Save that bullshit for the cameras, princess."

The ride back to the penthouse was a study in controlled rage. You stood in the far corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, vibrating with the kind of cold, sharp anger that usually sent assistants into early retirement. Michael stood by the doors, hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring at his own reflection with a jaw so tight it looked like it might shatter.

When the doors slid open, you didn't even wait for him.

"I take the bed," you said, not looking at him. "You take anything else. If I even hear you breathing, I’m calling the front desk and telling them you’re harassing me."

Michael walked past you, throwing his own jacket over the back of a velvet armchair. "That’s fine by me, Y/N. Just keep your stuff on your side of the room. I don't want your designer nonsense touching my things."

"My 'nonsense' is worth more than your lousy ass career, so keep your crusty hands off my stuff," you snapped, tossing your heels aside and watching as they narrowly missed his feet.

You were mid argument, deep in a heated debate over who got access to the walk in closet—"I need it to curate my looks," you argued, to which he replied, "I need it to actually unpack, not play dress up"—when a sharp knock echoed at the door.

It was a waiter, looking terrified as he wheeled in a silver cart laden with an extravagant spread of pastries, chocolate truffles, and exotic fruits drenched in thick honey. He stammered a frantic apology from the manager, desperate to appease both of you. You scoffed, eyeing the spread. "Tell them to keep the bum ass bribe."

Michael, however, stepped forward, offering the waiter a warm, polite smile that made you want to gag. "Thank you. This is very kind of them," he said smoothly, before the guy practically sprinted out of the room.

He picked up a small, honey glazed pastry, turning it over in his fingers. It smelled intoxicating—deep, floral, and strangely heavy. He took a bite, his expression shifting from polite to genuinely impressed. "You should try this, actually. It's not bad."

"I’m not gonna eat from a hotel that can't even book a room correctly," you said, but the smell was starting to worm its way into your senses, making your mouth water against your will.

"Suit yourself," he murmured, his voice sounding weirdly satisfied as he reached for another, smacking his lips as he chewed.

"Can you stop?" you groaned, leaning against the marble counter. "The smacking. It’s like listening to a wet sponge. It’s fucking repulsive."

"Shut up and try one," he countered, holding the plate out.

You grabbed a honey covered strawberry, mostly just to get him to shut up, and took a reluctant bite. The flavor hit you like a physical force. Sweet, intense, and wildly addictive. You hated it. You hated that it was the one of the best things you’d ever tasted, and you hated even more that he was watching you, waiting for your reaction.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and smug.

"Fuck off," you muttered, though you were already reaching for another one.

An hour later, the room had gone quiet. The suite felt different—warmer, the air thicker. Michael had disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower running providing a steady, rhythmic background to your boredom. You were sitting on the bed, robe pulled tight, watching a documentary on the television, but your focus was shattered.

A strange, prickling heat began to crawl up your spine. It was a slow, creeping tingle that made the fabric of your robe feel like sandpaper against your skin. Your heart rate spiked, a frantic, thumping rhythm that wouldn't slow down, and your hands felt unsteady as you reached for another fruit from the nightstand.

When the bathroom door finally opened, the tension in the room snapped into focus. Michael walked out, dressed in plain cotton pajamas that did nothing to hide the fact that he was looking just as frayed as you felt. He walked over and sat on the very edge of the bed, his back to you, his shoulders visibly tense.

He let out a long, ragged sigh, his head dropping back.

The sound irritated you to your core. "What’s your problem now?" you snapped, sitting up and pulling the robe tighter around your burning skin.

He didn't turn around. He just stared at the wall, his breathing noticeably heavy, his voice a low, strangled rasp. "Nothin’."

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. You watched him, your own breath hitching as a wave of heat flooded to your stomach, your thighs clenching together, desperate for relief. He shifted, his posture suddenly rigid, and you caught the flash of a distinct, thickening bulge in his pajamas that he was clearly struggling to hide.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a hazy, dark intensity. "Are you... are you feeling kinda hot?"

You tightened your grip on the blanket, your heart hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it. "A little," you lied, your voice breathless. The silence in the room was heavy. You went to the bathroom, your hands pressed against the cool tile, trying to wash the heat from your face. It was no use. Every shallow breath you took felt like you were inhaling honey—thick and intoxicating.

You walked back into the bedroom, your robe feeling like a weighted shackle. Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn’t look up, but the way his hands gripped the edge of the mattress told you everything.

"I can’t take this," you breathed, your voice trembling. The air felt thin. "I’m so hot."

"Me too," he rasped, his voice dropping an octave, raw and jagged. "We need to fix this."

He slowly looked up. His hair was a damp, messy wreck, and his eyes were dilated, black holes swallowing the dim light. He looked at you, really looked at you, and the way his gaze dragged over the slip of your robe made your stomach flip. You felt a deep, aching throb pulling at your core everything to do with the man sitting three feet away.

You didn't answer with words. You crossed the room in two strides, your movements fluid, and loomed over him. You reached out and shoved his chest, not hard, but enough to make him stumble back onto the mattress. "Move," you ordered.

He didn't fight you. He fell back, propping himself up on his elbows, watching you with a dangerous, hungry expectation. You climbed over him, the scent of the honeyed aphrodisiac radiating from his skin acting like a magnet. You straddled his hips, feeling the thick straining of his dick through his pajamas, and began to press down. You started moving against him, a slow, torturous grind that made his breath hitch.

“I can’t believe im doing this,” You gasp out, feeling his hands come up, gripping your waist with bruising force, his thumb digging into your hip as he moves you against him faster. “This is so gross.”

He let out a frustrated grunt as his hips stuttered forward, a clumsy, needy twitch, pressing his firmly against the center of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, his face a messy, dark crimson where a deep blush had spread over his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked completely undone by the simple feeling of you against him. "Shut the fuck up," he grits, though he didn't stop, his hips rolling forward seeking the heat and friction you offered. You let out a small, breathy sound he leaned into it, another buck of his hips sending a jolt through both of you.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding the edge of your panties. You held your breath as he traced along the seam, teasing without entering. Teasing you before his fingers slid beneath the lace, finding you slick and ready. A low groan escaped his throat. "God, you’re s'wet for me."

"Don’t flatter yourself." But the heat on your cheeks betrayed you. His touch was skilled, knowing exactly where to press, how to curl. Your hips began moving against his hand, chasing the friction with uncontrollable hunger.

But it wasn’t enough to calm the heat. You grab his wrist, stilling his movements. His eyes widened in surprise. His pants came off in a tangle of fabric and impatience. He lay beneath you, fully exposed, letting you drink in the sight. Lean hips. Defined stomach. The way his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he watched you with anticipation.

You positioned yourself above him, feeling the tip press against your entrance. "Last..chance to back out," You pant.

He just smirked, hands resting on your hips as you slowly sinking down, every inch making your head fuzzy as you struggle to fully take him. The feeling was so overwhelming. His hands move to your thighs as you began to move, finding a rhythm that drove him deeper with each roll of your hips.

He threw his head back, a string of curses falling from his lips. He looked up at you with wide eyes, big hands moving to grip at every inch of your waist and hips.

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you look down at him, hands on his chest as you lazily roll your hips on his cock, his thick tip leaking deep inside your pussy.

"God... feels s'good," He babbles, voice shaky and lashes fluttering with every movement. His words encourage you to roll your hips faster, grinding his fat dick right against your cervix, wet squelching sounds harmonizing with his now louder whimpers.

His arms pull you down onto his chest, wrapping around you as he stuffs his face into your sweaty shoulder. His hips buck upward, creamy slick coating his length with every rut. The mixture creates an obscene glide between your bodies.

“Look at you—haah—moaning like a little bitch in heat.” You mock in between moans, letting out a small laugh as you grind against him, watching as his face scrunches up in pleasure, biting his lip to hold back from moaning. “Oh, you think that shit funny?” He grunts, letting out a frustrated, guttural sound and in one fluid motion, he flipped you, pinning you on your stomach beneath him. He was actually strong—terrifyingly so. He didn't waste time. He shoved his knee between your thighs, forcing them wider, his eyes burning with that familiar, hateful intensity.

"Awww, look at you. Such a mess f’me."

Michael’s hips rock forward, driving his dick as deep as it would go into your tight walls, you claw at the blanket every time he even pushes an inch further into your cunt, fucking you into the mattress with slow and purposeful strokes until you swore you felt him in your throat.

This man is must be trying to kill me, you think to yourself as you clutch the pillow beneath you, it slowly becoming stained with sweat, tears, smeared with your mascara and lip gloss, you're becoming a complete mess yet he shows no sign of letting up soon. He was having sweet revenge. Your arms started to waiver, no longer able to support your weight as Michael continued to pound into you from behind, one hand molding the flesh of your ass while the other hand rests at your waist, tugging you back against his hips, slender fingers splayed across your curves, keeping you right where he wanted you.

Another high pitched whine leaves your lips as the tip of his cock nudges right against your sweet spot, dropping your head against the pillow as pleasure ignites every nerve in your body till you felt as if you were burning. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest and you swear you could just feel his stupid fucking grin tugging at his lips as he watches you slowly but surely lose every coherent and bitchy thought in your mind.

"Fuck," he curses lowly, his hand gripping your ass a little tighter, his eyes glued to the way your cunt clenched around him, sucking him right back in whenever his hips drew backwards. "Ain’t got nothing to say now do you? Creamin' round me like a good girl. My dick that good, huh?" His hand moves to your throat, gripping it tightly, watching you gasp for air.

There's a sharp reply sitting in the back of your throat—God knows you wanted to get him off his high horse so badly — but even if you could talk, there's no point in arguing. No one has ever fucked you like this and he knows this. He had you hooked. There was no escaping for you now.

You honestly should’ve felt embarrassed by the sounds you were making, clenching around him like you don't want him to leave, to stop just yet, and Michael only feeds into it, leaning his body over yours, giving your ass a good couple of hard smacks before planting both of his arms at the sides of yours til you could feel the sweaty heat of him on your back.

A whimper bubbles up on your barely glossed lips, the rest of it smeared across your face from where you've been writhing against pillows and blankets. Michael grins against your skin— the feeling of his lips on you causes goosebumps to rise across your neck and shoulders before he plants wet kisses along them until he reaches your lips.

Michael pulls his chest away from your sticky back, his hand pushing down on the small of it while his other finds your puffy clit between your dripping folds. A scream tears in the column of your throat as he simultaneously pumps his throbbing cock into you and draws his name across your clit in tight movements. The combination has your mind in a frenzy, clouding with visions of lust as your thighs tremble and struggle to keep you up.

Juices roll down you thighs in thick waves, gathering around Michael’s cock in a frothy white mix the more he fucks into you — the wet pap, pap, pap of his balls against your cunt echoing throughout your bedroom. You glaze him in your arousal, smearing it up his pelvis and the fronts of his toned thighs. you make him a complete mess. "ffuck s’too much," you babble out, eyes rolling to the back out your head as you reach your hand behind you, finger tips pushing against his pelvis in a desperate effort to slow him down.

"You’re doing so well, though. Keep singing for me, mama, lemme hear you." He praises over your loud tune of kitten mewls, breathless pants and soft hiccups, feeling him reach for your arm and tossing it off him. You can feel yourself getting closer and he's not even fully inside of you. He can feel it too. But Michael doesn't falter, placing his foot on the bed as leverage to move his hips faster, harder— groaning deep between bared and gritted fangs while he watches your ass jiggle against his pelvis, shining with your slick. "You gonna cum, baby?"

“D-don’t fucking call me that,” you grit out, though he doesn’t really care for what you’re saying for the musician is already playing with your sensitive clit once again, drawing electrifying shapes against it and rubbing your juices back into your sex while you clench around his sloppy cock. The hotel mix up had to be one of the best accidents you've ever experienced, you think as you fall apart— eyes rolling far back into your skull while you clench and cream on him.

"Atta girl," Michael coos as you come down from your earth shattering high, a mess of weak bones and jelly legs in his arms. "You're so fucking disgusting," You pant, though your body says otherwise, clenching his dick with a vice like grip. "Get off me."

"Cant when you're dripping down my… and..., fuck," His words struggle to come out of his mouth as he cums hard, his entire body shuddering, pumping his thick load into you while you groan— partially at his audacity, but mostly at how full you feel.

The aftermath was a slow descent. You lay there, tangled in the disheveled sheets, your limbs feeling like weights. The room was deathly quiet, save for the ragged, synchronized gasping that filled the space between you. You were a mess—sore, flushed, and utterly breathless—yet your body was still humming with the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac.

He slowly pulls out, flipping you on your back so he could see your precious face, but his eyes drift back to your leaking pussy, watching a mix of your releases seep out of you and onto the starch sheets. You scrunch your face up at the feeling, your chest heaving, trying to gather the shredded remnants of your pride. "That," you rasped, your voice cracking as you struggled to sound dismissive, "was a disgusting mistake. I don't know what came over me, but it won't happen again."

Michael let out a low chuckle. He propped himself up on one elbow, his hair wild and his gaze dark with a triumphant, knowing amusement. He didn't say a word; he just leaned down, captured your chin in his hand, and tilted your head back. He kissed you—slow, deep, and impossibly possessive—until your stubborn resolve crumbled into nothingness, your fingers curling into his damp hair to pull him closer.

Just as you were spiraling back into his orbit, a sharp, polite knock rapped against the suite door.

"Ma’am?" a muffled voice called out. "I just wanted to inform you that we’ve managed to open up another premium suite if you’d like to relocate?"

You pulled back, chest heaving, and looked at Michael. You both went silent, staring at the door. You looked at each other—at the wreck of the room, the clothes strewn everywhere, and the heat still radiating off your skin.

"We're... we're fine," you called out, your voice sounding breathless and shy, a far cry from your usual cold, untouchable persona. "We'll stay here."

"Very well," the worker replied, their voice tight with suppressed excitement.

As the worker’s footsteps receded, they tiptoed down the hall to where a group of hotel staff had been huddled, holding their breath in the corridor. As soon as the worker rounded the corner, they let out a jubilant, hushed cheer.

"They totally fucked," the worker whispered, grinning at the manager, who was practically vibrating with relief. "The honey worked."

The manager leaned against the wall, fanning their face with a clipboard, a smug, brilliant smile spreading across their lips. In a desperate, high stakes gamble to save their jobs from your wrath, they had concocted the perfect dish—a blend of rare, potent ingredients they hoped would finally break the tension between the two most difficult stars on the planet. It hadn't just saved their jobs, it had changed the entire industry's dynamic overnight.

Back in the suite, you had no idea about the little plan. You just glared at Michael, who was currently pulling you closer to him as he laid back on the pillows, his smirk wider than ever.

"I still hate you," you mumbled into his chest.

"I know, baby," he murmured, his hands wandering back down to your waist, his eyes darkening as he was about to remind you once more why you weren't leaving that room. "I know."

TW mention of Mj's eating struggles ⌞ 🧸⌝ Pure fluff!

⟢﹒ based off HC's!

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader Warnings : angst, adultery, Michael cheats on you with LMP, you’re cheating on him with Brad Pitt I guess, arguing, light descriptions of smut, uhhhh no happy ending :/ Word count: 2.5k authors note: uhhhh sorry if this is cringe guys I’ve never written angst before😭 also don’t take this fic too seriously cause honestly it seems kinda comedic even to me 😅

mj ❤︎ 𝒻.rea ! 3.6k. smut 𖬺 mdn𝒾 ◌ ׄ     𓈒 𝓶.list 　　 　　 　　 　　 𝒸w. pervy!michael, janetsbsf!reader, porn with little plot, explicit themes, dual loss of virginity, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, small time jumps, dry humping, mentions of masturbation, slightly subby!michael, not proofread, creampie, breast fondling, cum swallowing

𝓼ynopsis ׁ ᛝ‎ michael and you share your first intimate moment ever together—but at what cost, exactly? movie night at havenhurst, and janet drifts quietly to sleep beside you. do you & him still pull forward with the perversion? well, of course!

𓈒 ݁ ݂ 𝓉he television set buzzed with music and liveliness, the animated characters reciting gorgeous melodies with a mix of small choreography to even it all out. you, janet, and michael had all sat down for the night to have a tiny disney movie marathon. the three of you started with the first princess, michael singing along to most of the tunes snow white had to offer. janet and you became his background vocalists, everyone clapping at the end as if you were present at some sort of theater production. next up was bambi—which made you all cry, naturally.

michael mostly enjoyed the watching experience with the two of you for bambi, mostly because you kept cuddling up to him whenever you'd get upset for the 2D animals. your grip would hang tight around his arm as you frowned from the scenes, michael's stomach swelling up with butterflies.

a few more hours had passed, and it seemed as if the movies were becoming longer and longer each & every time. the current film that was alice in wonderland. the colorful yet eerie animation lit up the dark living room, the colors reflecting and illuminating the atmosphere with bright and saturated hues. you looked over at janet, only to find her completely knocked out—her softly shut eyes tagging alongside her slow breathing.

"looks like jan couldn't handle anymore disney mayhem." you whispered, smiling at your sleeping best friend. michael lifted his head from his knuckles to glance over as well, giggling quietly at the scene.

you giggled as well, turning your attention back to the television. after a few minutes of silence following the 'giggling at janet' session, michael began drifting into some deep thinking. he wondered if now could be the perfect timing to make a move, since he had been waiting eagerly for such a moment to fall into his life. he looked out the corner of his eye at you, your face being lit up by the ephemeral scenes of craziness. he kept his limited sight on you and your body language, holding his breath as he began to shift. you and michael had been sharing a blanket the entirety of the night, him trying out of utmost respect not to do anything to create an awkward or uncomfortable experience.

he moved his hand down, heavily breathing as it grazed against your plump thigh. you jumped slightly, his touch tickling your skin softly. you smiled to yourself, letting your hand reach down to find his. you linked your fingers with his, michael's hand taking a delayed second to respond with the same action. michael's eyes shot down at the spot in blanket where your hands now lay intertwined. michael was clearly getting hot and bothered, your mind telling you to ignore his awkward mess as much as you could. but, it was undeniably hard. you never told anyone, but you secretly had feelings for michael. and little did you know, he felt the exact same way—maybe even a little more due to his perverted tendencies.

he never thought this day would come, truly believing his silly crush was going to continue being one-sided as he masturbated his life away. he presumed you were totally unobtainable—i mean, hello, you were his sisters best friend. he didn't want to make anything awkward between the three of you, especially not with his own sibling.

but that was all going to change now. it was like your touch gave him that reassurance he'd always longed for about his feelings. he looked up at you directly, gulping hardly from his nerves. you saw his gaze using your peripheral vision, turning your head as well to meet his eyes. you watched as he gulped, swearing in your mind he didn't even blink a single time while locked on your stare. you smiled, your look softening to sort of signal he didn't need to be so skittish. michael's anxious shoulders slowly fell down, his frightened expression slowly shifting into a soft grin.

"i- uhm, sorry i hope i didn't-" michael began, his stuttering sentence being quickly cutoff by your lips. he didn't have time to react whatsoever, his hand squeezing yours underneath the blanket. you brought your free hand up to cup his face, pulling him closer. michael's eyes slowly shut, his interrupted mouth melting into the kiss. he couldn't believe what was going on. his dream girl—the girl he shamelessly jerked off to countless times—was making the first move so swiftly. he could feel himself brazenly getting hard, his cotton pajamas becoming a tad hot and crowded. but to his dismay, you pulled away from the romantic gesture, visibly distraught.

"oh my god. i'm so sorry, really—i wasn't thinking at all. i should've-" yet another discontinued apology. michael clearly wasn't finished kissing you, and wanted to show it with his blatant interruption. the kiss quickly becoming steamy—unlike last time, where you and michael clearly were adjusting to the new physical affection. you didn't feel as guilty this time, reaching up quickly to cup his face once more. michael's hand broke away from yours under the covers, finding its way to your thigh as he softly squeezed your flesh.

the sudden action caused you to wince, a small whine from your mouth forcefully sneaking its way into the kiss. and that had seemed to be your final straw with this man. you both now had made it extremely obvious just how much you mutually wanted this to continue—so naturally, you took the opportunity.

without breaking any contact between your mouths, you shifted under the blanket quietly, climbing slowly onto michael. you straddled him, the position now making you fully aware of his erection. you surrendered from the kiss, the both of you panting in what was almost full synchronization.

"i just wanna make sure you're okay with this.." you whispered, watching as michael immediately nodded. how the hell was he going to turn down such a thing? and with that, you returned the gesture, biting your bottom lip from his eagerness. you were a virgin yourself, but didn't want to show michael how nervous you were—since you didn't want to become a turn-off during such a good moment.

you leaned back slightly, aligning your clothed cunt to hover over his mutually clothed length. you began rocking your hips slowly, rubbing your covered heat along his cock. michael exhaled softly, his hands gripping the couch cushions that sat below him. he felt like he was fucking dreaming—his longtime crush was quite literally humping his dick in real time. he watched, mouth agape, as you humped him so needily. your hips rocked avidly, his eyes giving away just how insanely turned on he was—besides his rock hard cock, of course.

he loved the way you were moving, his teeth secretly clenching together so he wouldn't say something filthy to your gorgeous face. he thought disgusting thoughts to himself as he watched your body continue to grind and shift—the feeling of your pussy being just out of reach, the way your body jerked back and forth as you humped—oh, he was definitely far gone.

"mmh.. love feeling you so bad." you spoke softly, your eyes tightly closing as you rolled your hips faster, your hands sternly placed on the space between michael's arms and the couch for stability. those words did something to michael, something so tantalizing and genuine. he groaned, beginning to rock his hips jointly below. he began to grip your moving hips instead of the couch, which caused you to quietly gasp. his hands were big and cold, the sudden frigid temperature meeting your warm sides deliciously.

you whimpered quietly, flinching as michael's hips bucked in response to your pretty noise. you felt his tip softly graze against your hidden clit, causing your hips to buck ferociously as well. michael grinned at your pleasure, forcefully stopping the motion of your hips just so he could start harshly rocking his own. you watched in awe and utter pleasure as his eyes still lay focused on yours. you pursed your lips, trying not to wake your sleeping best friend up to such a sight. janet shifted a few times in her sleep, which did cause you and michael to stop and stare for a few moments before heavily continuing.

michael licked his lips, watching your glossy eyes fail to keep their gaze specifically on him. he'd stop purposefully a few times, hoping it would get you to come back to your senses and give him his desired prolonged eye contact.

"michael.." you breathlessly spoke, whining quietly.

"yeah, girl?"

"ngh," you groaned, looking down at his torso and watching as the muscles contracted with each shift of his hips. "need you bad—so, so bad. 'want you to be my—ughh—god, please, just fuck me."

michael's eyes widened, his hips slowing down from the feeling of utter shock.

"r-run that last part by again?" he began to heavily breathe.

"i want you to- uh, to fuck me." you looked down at him with pleading eyes. "please?"

he could feel his throat dry up instantly, his hips movement coming to an abrupt halt. after a few seconds of him being completely dumbfounded, he moistened his mouth back up as he gulped hardly.

"oh! mh—okay, yeah. yeah. mhm. why don't we-"

your fingers met his lips, shushing him on the spot. you softly smiled, subtly clearing your throat.

"don't overcomplicate it. please, michael. 've been waiting so long." you faintly whined out.

he could feel his infatuation with you increase significantly from those words. never, and i mean never would he have thought that his biggest fantasy would be slowly unfolding before him in the middle of reality.

michael desperately obliged, having you sit up slightly so he could shimmy a little out of his pajama pants. hungry eyes stared as you saw his cock spring up, your mouth beginning to slightly water from how hot the sight was. michael looked away sheepishly, embarrassment mapped all over his face.

instead of sitting in awkward silence and letting michael feel shameful, you decided to break the ice in the situation. you grabbed his chin with your thumb and index finger, pointing his gaze back at you. you pointed down at your tiny shorts, grabbing his cock in one hand and pulling the bottoms and your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy lips.

michael nearly fucking died. he stared intensely, examining everything there was to your flower. his body tensed as you began brushing his tip—now leaking with precum—against your delicate folds. you stroked him a few times, hoping you were doing something right. the only sexual encounter you ever had was janet giving you tips on how to please guys in bed, since you had bashfully asked before out of curiosity.

you broke the anticipated mutual gaze the two of you have kept up to focus on your actions. you watched as his tip slipped inside a few times due to your moistened arousal, causing the both of you to jump and gasp. michael tucked his bottom lip inward under his teeth, his breath suddenly shaky and weary. you gave him a final look, basically asking with your body language for permission to go all the way.

michael glanced at his sleeping sister then back at you, wondering if this was the time for such a thing. he then trailed his eyes down your body, finally to his throbbing dick. your hand never escaped it while awaiting his answer, your gaze soft and your eyes big—which just continued to persuade him further more.

he felt a small lump in his throat form, knowing he couldn't say no to you no matter how hard he tried. the prettiest girl he knew, cock in her hand and looking oh, so needy. he could feel his dick twitch in your grasp, earning a small giggle from the both of you. michael ultimately fell for your begging gaze, he himself becoming needy by the second for your gorgeous cunt. it was right there—oh, so close.. he could literally feel your heat radiating onto himself from how close your pussy was to his length. fuck it. he was going to put aside his religious worries, the infatuation taking full control.

michael bit his bottom lip, nodding vigorously to signal his desperation. your brain squealed, the excitement building up in you as you realized just how dreamy the situation was—your crush, unaware the feeling was mutual, was about to take your virginity within a matter of seconds.

michael assisted you with positioning, having you sit up once more for a slight moment so he could adjust himself. he spat on his hand, dragging it slowly up and down his cock to act as lubrication.

he gently grabbed your tors, bringing you back to your original spot. you hovered over his aching tip, reaching down to slightly spread your lips. you lined yourself up perfectly, head whipping up to stare at michael. you gradually lowered yourself onto his throbbing sex, your mouth loosely falling open from the painful yet arousing sensation. michael hissed, his chest slowly rising and falling as he tried to stay conscious in reality.

you barely made it a few inches past hit tip, stopping completely to try and regain your composure. michael let out a groan, the noise almost being inaudible from how quiet it escaped.

"i- i don't think i can go any farther. it's, hmm— 's too big." your words softly pushing their way out, the pain blending in with the pleasure as you tried not to move. janet had warned you sex for the first time would hurt, but she didn't mention the part where it was excruciatingly painful—jesus fucking christ.

"nah, girl.." michael sat still himself, scared of harming you further. "c-can uh, can you try it jus' for me...?" his hands landing firmly on your frozen hips. "please, baby? i'll make you feel so good, i promise."

your core only tightened further, his words seemingly casting some sort of sexual hex all over your body. you gripped the couch firmly, pushing your body down further—a few more inches being the only amount you could take. and don't get him wrong, he wasn't all that confident either. his touch deprived cock suddenly feeling new sensory he only ever dreamed of during the darkest of nights.

his hands were still sternly pressed on your hips, now moving in the painfully slow rhythm that you rocked. he watched as your body moved leisurely, staring in awe as he witnessed his dick slightly disappear inside of you, only to reappear damp with your sweet slick juices the next second. he could really tell just from these first few movements that he wouldn't last as long as he had planned—not like he had planned this in the first place. but, god, wasn't it something straight out of his perverted fantasies? doing something so intimate and secretive all with the risk of getting caught.. has he jerked off to this exact scenario before? mm, maybe just a bit!

your eyes constantly darting between michael, janet and your own body, you tried with all your might to not create too much of a scene. the only sounds that were really audible were those of the television and your pussy's arousal spreading all over michael's shaft.

starting to see the pearly gates of heaven, michael continued to help guide your hips. he didn't know what he was doing at all, but just wanted to make this highly enjoyable for the two of you. you—and secretly himself as well—wanted ohhh so badly for your tight flower to fully descend onto him. but with the pain you were experiencing currently not even halfway down his length? yeah, not happening...maybe some other time in the future.

your body seemed to have finally adjusted to this tiny sliver of his length, your pain overly transcending into full-on pleasure. your moves became more confident—more precise. you were still confused on the concept of the man's side of the situation, utterly hoping you weren't harming michael or making him freakishly uncomfortable. but unknowingly, michael's expressions and body languaged matched yours all too well—the furrowed brows, the occasional shifting of pelvis', the small whines—all secretly in sync.

your slow grinding and rocking transformed into subtle bounces, your body increasing the amplitude. and rashly, without thinking, you grabbed one of michael's hands, lifting it off of your hip. he cocked an eyebrow, slightly disappointed from your little action. his small whine he was about to release broke halfway abruptly, watching as you dragged his hand along your torso until it sat under your shirt. you placed his hand—now warm and welcoming—on your left tit, sliding your hand back down to leave it in solitude with your flesh.

his eyes sat wide and alert, his body completely frozen. he still was slightly flinching from your sensual movements, but he was so nervous to do anything else. he gulped, your nod of apporval giving him butterflies. he hesitantly began softly squeezing your breast, the back of his hand sitting comfortably against the fabric of your t-shirt. you looked down—still sloppily bouncing on his dick—and realized how stupid you were for your previous action. why not give him some more freedom, hm? and of course, you did just that.

you halted your body, michael's confusion plastering all over his puppy eyes. he held his breath timidly, visibly gawking as your hands arose to lift your top, sitting the bottom of the fabric right above your breasts as to fully expose your heaven-sent bust. he cleared his throat harshly, staring at your gorgeous bosom. he was shortly interrupted though, as your hips continued to work flawlessly.

and then he felt it. that all too familiar feeling forming in his lower stomach—was quickly about to burst. his face turned hot, his palms clammy as he silently continued to knead your breast.

"mmh– baby.. c-can i?" he lifted his other hand off your constantly moving sides, pointing towards your connected sexes. your mind immediately knew what he was insinuating, shyly 'mhm'ing him, acting as if you didn't desperately want such a thing to occur.

your hips rocked few more times before michael released his grip from your boob. he placed one hand on your back and the other back on your side, adjusting the two of you slightly. he lifted himself up barely from sitting, the both of you now hovering a bit over the couch and his original spot.

rashly, michael began to sloppily fuck you. it took you by complete and utter surprise—his pelvis hungry and only after the goal of satiating the growing sense. you threw your head back, moaning through a closed pallette as he forced a few more inches inside of your sweet hole. michael leaned forward, planting kisses on your torso, smiling as he watched your shirt slowly unfold and fall down due to the harsh friction down below.

now you could feel it. you had rarely been frequent with masturbating, but you knew this feeling overwhelmingly. smiling to yourself as you reminisced cumming on your fingers to the thought of michael even slightly touching you. both of your dreams had come true, and neither knew how long the mutual feeling lasted before this—making it all the more exciting.

michael's strokes became faster, desperate to reach the gorgeous emotional climax that was his orgasm. you sat like a ragdoll, your eyes tightly closed as you let michael rearrange your fragile insides—all while trying to stay silent enough to not angrily wake janet.

his knot snapped first, his head curling inwards as his curly hair rested on your torso. you weren't far behind either, your legs softly shaking from the slight overstimulating sensations of his cock. he let out a guttural groan against your belly, the vibration travelling through your torso upwards, giving you a serious case of intensified rosy cheeks. they were already quite rosy from the workout that was fucking your best friends brother. god, it was so morally wrong but neither of you seemed to care—i mean, this man was quite literally still inside of you spewing his cum as we speak.

"oh- god." he moaned into your skin, his seed continuing to spill in perfect pearly ribbons, decorating your walls so deliciously. it was like decorating his own art gallery, but it was like a museum that was only sanctioned to you—his muse.

michael sat back down, softly pulling out of your swollen cunt. he continuously held your hips, having you sit up for a moment so he could watch something so enticing unravel. his lustful eyes widening as two small strings of his cum spilled out of you, landing on his partially covered thighs. you kept your eyes on him sternly, smiling as you dabbed a finger in his seed, licking it off your pretty finger—tucking your panties and shorts back into place shortly after, basically showing off how you were keeping his cum fully inside. michael's jaw hung open, sheepishly watching you sit back down in your original spot between him and janet. janet was still fully knocked out, painfully unaware of the bizarre occurrences that happened right before her on the family sofa.

michael shimmied his way back into his pants, the two of you currently sitting in the atmosphere that was old cartoons and bodies panting.

"wanna go to the bathroom?" you spoke, eyes not lifting from the television screen awkwardly.

"yeah, sure."

and with that, the two of you fleed into the guest bathroom that sat a few feet from the living room—you both needed more.

“I’m married to my fans”

He made it to July like he said would!

you give me butterflies

synopsis: michael catches a glimpse of your new tattoo one day, and he grows a bit of a fascination with it. when he asks you to see it, you realize that he likes it more than you could have ever imagined

cws/tags: 18+ minors DNI, established friendship, bsf michael jackson x female reader, mutual crush (reader/michael are oblivious of each other’s feelings), smut, slight body worship, f oral receiving, overstimulation, unprotected sex, use of sex toy (vibrator). i’m obsessed with besties secretly in love sue me!!

wc: 5.6k

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The heat had been unbearable lately, taking away the joy of lounging in the sun, which happened to be one of your favorite activities. A perk of being best friends with Michael Jackson meant you were free to enjoy his gorgeous home, which included an equally as gorgeous pool. While you were usually determined to enjoy the sun, today was not the day.

“So hot out,” you pouted, emerging from Michael’s bathroom and into his bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, writing down what you assumed to be lyrics as you had been changing into your new bikini. “Can’t even enjoy the weather.”

Michael looked up, a small smile on his face as he met your gaze. “You already changed your mind?” He asked, gesturing to your attire. “I thought you were ready today.”

You sighed, shrugging. “Don’t think I can do it,” you replied. “Besides, the tattoo artist said I should avoid direct sunlight for a little while anyway. Don’t want her fading,” you giggled a little, tracing the edge of your tattoo that sat on your right hip. You had gotten it only a few weeks ago, and Michael had yet to see it. You were a bit worried he wouldn’t like it, although you were overjoyed with the result. The black and grey ink formed a small butterfly, half of it visible underneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. One wing poked out, seemingly giving a little wave to anyone who was looking.

Michael’s eyes trailed down your body to where your fingers were grazing, and an unreadable expression took over his face. “When’d you get that?” He asked, his tone quieter than usual.

“Just a few weeks ago,” you told him, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. Maybe he thought it was tacky? You had gotten the tattoo for yourself of course, not for Michael, yet you had wanted him to like it. It always made you feel good when he complimented you. “Went with Meg,” you said, mentioning your other closest friend. “She got the same one, but on her other hip.”

“Did it hurt?” Michael asked, his eyes not leaving the spot.

“A little,” you said, giggling quietly. “Most of my skin here is a little sensitive,” you went on, your face heating up at the admission. “Wasn’t too bad though.”

Michael didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he cleared his throat, breaking him out of whatever spell he’d been under. He smiled at you, although the warmth didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think I could sit for that,” he said, laughing a little.

“You’d be surprised,” you said, shifting your weight a little. You felt overly exposed all of a sudden, almost as if you were under a microscope. “Hey, I’m gonna get dressed again. Feels a little silly wearing this now.” Before Michael could respond, you turned on your heel and dashed back into the bathroom so quickly you almost stumbled.

Once inside, you reached to lock the door, although you knew Michael wouldn’t ever try to come inside while you were in there. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you splashed a bit of cold water on your face before sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You felt silly, completely sure you were overreacting to what might be nothing at all. Michael hadn’t said anything bad about the tattoo, but you were used to his sweet compliments and praise over things like your hair or clothes, so this felt a bit targeted. Of course, you did not need the validation of a man (even if he was also your best friend) but it would’ve been nice if he had said something sweet. It wasn’t Michael’s fault you felt this way at all, though. Maybe it was your own fault for falling in love with your best friend.

Once your breathing had slowed, you stood back up and discarded your bikini, stepping into your panties and bra. You stood there for a moment, pushing the hem of your panties down, watching the lace curve around the edge of the butterfly wing. You smiled to yourself, pulling up your skirt. The tattoo was cute, and Michael’s opinion really didn’t matter. It’s not like he would be seeing a lot of it, anyway. You’d probably forget that conversation even happened within a few days' time.

Your shirt came on next, a slightly cropped white t-shirt, which paired with the simple denim of your skirt. You noticed as you glanced up in the mirror that the yellow shade of your bra was mildly visible through the shirt, but you shrugged. Nothing you could do about it now.

“Hey,” you said, voice a little higher than usual as you stepped back into Michael’s room. “I’m back.”

Michael looked up, smiling at you. He set down the notebook he was writing in, dog-earring the page he’d been working on. “Are you feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Must be the weather. Makin’ my head feel a little fuzzy.”

Michael smiled, patting the spot on the bed next to him. “Come ‘ere,” he said. “Haven’t seen you for a few days. I miss you.”

You smiled back despite the knot of nerves panging in your stomach, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his words. Michael was the most affectionate friend you’d ever had, which although sweet did typically cause your thoughts to wander to other things, things that friends definitely did not do or should not be thinking about. “You’re the busy one, Mr. Superstar,” you pouted, practically jumping on the bed and into his arms.

Michael laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he sighed. “Wish I could put you in my pocket and take you everywhere.”

You giggled, pushing him away a little as you disentangled from his arms. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it, though,” he smirked, poking your nose with his index finger.

You scrunched up your nose as that, giggling again. Maybe a little too much, you thought. “I tolerate it,” you teased. “I’m really just using you for your pool.”

Michael erupted into laughter at that, pulling you towards him as he sprawled out against his headboard, legs stretching long in front of him. The notion was ridiculous of course, which is why he laughed. Michael and you both knew that you would never use him for anything, whether it be fame, money, connections. It was perhaps why your bond was so special. You both loved and cared for each other for your hearts, and nothing else really mattered.

“The pool you haven’t touched in over a month,” he said, laughter dying down a bit.

“‘S’not my fault it’s hot as hell out there,” you exhaled, resting your head against his shoulder. Your legs stretched out across his, a warmth and comfort settling in your body at the feeling of him.

Michael giggled, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. He loved giving you little kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead (never your lips), which always made you face flush with heat - a heat both of you politely ignored. “That little bikini was cute,” he said after a beat of silence, his soft voice quieter than usual. “So is your tattoo. Really liked it, actually.”

You stilled, turning your head so you could meet his eyes. “You did?”

Michael nodded, biting his lower lip. “Mmhmm. Pretty tattoo for a pretty girl.”

You bit your own lip at that, unable to fight your smile. “I thought maybe you hated it,” you told him. “You looked weird when I showed you. I’m… I’m glad you like it.”

Michael shook his head, reaching for one of your hands so he could play with your fingers. “No way. Just caught me by surprise. I like it a lot. It really didn’t hurt?”

You shrugged, shaking your head a little. “Not that much. When the needle went over the bone it did,” you explained, using your free hand to trace the hipbone that your tattoo sat against beneath your clothes. “I kind of liked it though,” your face burned a little at that. “Maybe I’m a freak.”

Michael smiled, shaking his head. His eyes dropped to your hip, watching the trace of your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips. “Can I see it again?”

Your fingers stilled, and a rush of something ran throughout your body. You couldn’t exactly place it - nerves, mild arousal, anxiety. “My tattoo?” You clarified.

Michael nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Is that weird? I just wanna look at it.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out of you, your body beginning to feel like it was floating outside of itself. Maybe you were having some kind of extremely lucid dream. “Sorry. Not laughing at you. I’m just a little nervous for some reason.”

Michael smiled, absentmindedly running his hand along your hipbone. The press of his finger was so light that you could barely feel it, but it set something ablaze in you. The room felt thick with a tension that the two of you didn’t often share. You tried to still your mild fidgeting, hoping to rid your mind of dirty thoughts. Michael was your friend. He didn’t mean anything suggestive by the question, obviously. Friends showed each other things like tattoos all the time. Yours just happened to be hidden in a moderately intimate spot. That was just a coincidence.

“It’s okay,” Michael assured you. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind,” you replied, internally cringing at the soft crack of your voice. You needed to relax. “Look away for a minute,” you told him, smirking. “Don’t need you seein’ anything extra, Jackson.”

Michael rolled his eyes, covering his face with both hands before he turned away entirely. “Promise I won’t look until you tell me to.”

You smiled, taking a deep breath through your nose. You looked down at yourself, a little unsure of how to go about this. Your skirt was denim, not too tight but stiff enough that it wouldn’t completely stretch down to give an optimal view of your hip. If you lifted it up though, you would completely expose your panties. It was kind of the same thing as bikini bottoms, right? For some reason you felt paralyzed with nerves, though.

You made a decision then. You shuffled out of your skirt, folding it once and placing it next to you. You looked over at Michael, certain he wasn’t peaking at all; he was a gentleman, above all else. Your legs jittered with anticipation. You found a throw blanket at the edge of his bed, plush and warm. You tucked one leg beneath it, leaving your right hip and leg exposed. Now Michael would be able to see half of your panties, but just barely. You didn’t dare move the fabric to expose more of the tattoo. That felt too intimate.

“You can look,” you said finally, body shaking with nerves. “Don’t be weird about it.”

Michael laughed, uncovering his face. The laughter died in his throat as soon as he looked at you, mildly exposed on the bed next to him. He wet his lips again, his eyes zoning in on that damn butterfly. “Wow,” he said, sounding just as breathless as you felt. He glanced over at your discarded skirt. “It’s so small,” he murmured, eyes back on your tattoo. “Real cute, honey.” He shuffled himself so that he was on the other side of you, closer to the tattoo. He hovered a hand over your hip, not touching but not shying away from being near you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hand on your skin, and it made you squirm a bit.

“Thank you, Michael,” you said, voice just a notch above a whisper. You felt like you were on another planet at the moment. Who knew an impromptu tattoo would lead to this?

“The other wing is underneath your panties?” He asked.

The bold-nature of the question made you giggle. “Well yeah. I didn’t get half of a butterfly put on my body.”

Michael smirked, laughing a little at your response. “Hm.” He paused, looking up at you. “Can I see the rest?”

You gulped, raising an eyebrow. “R-really?”

Michael shrugged a little, smiling. “‘S really cute. I can’t see it?”

Your breath caught in your throat. If you didn’t know any better you’d think Michael was hitting on you. Surely he was just curious, right? “Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess.” You couldn’t help the pang between your legs. “Here,” you said, grabbing at the fabric between your fingers and your thumb. You shifted the panties over, trying your best to hold in the whimper that was caught in your throat. Somehow this was turning you on more than the last time you had sex, which felt ridiculous. Michael wasn’t even touching you. Plus, he was your friend. Your best friend.

Michael watched with rapt attention, eyes running up and down over the now exposed butterfly. “Wow,” he said, his voice thick with something you couldn’t place and lower in tone than usual. “Like it so much. Can I touch it?”

Your eyes widened, an uncertain laugh escaping you. “It doesn’t really feel like anything since it’s basically healed, Mike.”

Michael smiled. “I know,” he said, looking up at you. “I want to, though. Is that weird for you?”

“I-I mean, I guess not.” You were pretty sure you were wet through your panties now. You were trying to think of anything else, gross food, the last book you read, anything but the thought of Michael touching your bare skin.

Michael smiled, flattening his right hand against your thigh right above your knee, using his left to touch the wing closest to the apex of your thighs. His finger brushed against yours that was still holding the fabric of your panties. You gasped, whimpering a little, praying he didn’t think anything of the noise.

Michael’s finger traced the entire outline of the butterfly, and you were sure he could feel you trembling beneath both of his hands. “Mikey,” you murmured. “W-what are you doing?”

Michael smiled, his right hand squeezing at your thigh as his other stilled. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. Your skin’s so soft. This tattoo,” he went on, and you could hear him gulp. You looked up at him and his beautiful eyes were fixed on your face. “It’s really… sexy.”

You shivered, breath shaking. You squeezed your thighs together, trying your best to maintain your calm. You felt like you were naked beneath the blanket, your desire to do something to soothe the aching pulse at your clit was becoming overwhelming. “It is?”

“Mm, yeah,” Michael said.

He was massaging your thigh now, the pressure of his hand so gentle but determined. You had half a mind to push him away, but it felt too good. You were at a bit of a loss for words for a moment, feeling like the tension was at an all-time high. In all your years of friendship and eventual feelings of lust, love, and everything in between, you had never been in a situation like this with Michael before. While you didn’t want it to stop, you were scared to break the spell. The risk of losing him was too much to bear.

“Michael,” you said, nerves flooding through you. It was now or never. “You’re… you’re turning me on, touchin’ me like that.”

“That was kind of the idea,” he laughed, pausing his movements. “Is that okay?”

You were unable to hold in the small moan, overwhelmed with your desire for him. “Y-yeah, as long as you plan on doing something about it.”

Michael stilled, looking up at you. “That’s okay? You’d really want that?”

You bit your lip, nodding. “If that’s something you want to do.”

Michael smiled, shaking his head a little. “You have no idea just how badly I want to, mama.”

You arched a brow, a shiver running down your spine. “Yeah? What do you wanna do to me?”

Michael exhaled, his breath shaky. His smile was a little shy. “I wanna start with taking a look at you,” he said. “Just how turned on are you? Are you wet already?”

You nodded, turning away in embarrassment. “Yes,” you answered. “You really wanna see?”

“Yes please,” Michael said quickly, tearing the blanket off of you with a swiftness that surprised you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, instinctively closing your legs. “You know, you should really buy me dinner first.”

Michael smirked, resting a hand on top of one of your knees. “Think I’ve gotten you dinner plenty of times already.”

You smiled a little, letting out another giggle. You placed your hand atop his, suddenly feeling a little nervous. “This isn’t some kind of friends with benefits thing, is it?”

“Why would you think that?” He looked a little hurt.

“I just need to be sure what’s going on. You’re my best friend, but… I don’t wanna lose you, Michael. My heart won’t be able to take it.”

Michael’s expression softened, and he rubbed his thumb along your skin. “You can’t lose me, baby. ‘S impossible. Thought it was obvious I’m in love with you.”

You felt your entire body light up at the confession, a warmth spreading everywhere. “Guess not, because I always thought it was obvious I’m in love with you too.”

Michael smiled, spreading your thighs so he could get closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pulling you up into his arms. He was cradling you there gently, the steady beat of his heartbeat providing comfort. “I would have done this a lot sooner if I’d known that,” he said softly, surging forward to press a kiss against your lips.

You met the kiss with equal determination, already overwhelmed with the feeling of him against you. Michael wasted no time, capturing your bottom lip between his before he opened up your mouth even more with his tongue. You fell back against his pillows near the headboard, pulling him down with you. He slotted easily against your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, a throb of pleasure running through you at the proximity. Your kisses were enthusiastic and a bit messy, having wanted this for such a long time.

“What an eager girl,” Michael murmured against your lips, smiling into the kiss. “You’ve really wanted this huh, baby?”

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, rocking your hips against him. “Getting a little excited, Mikey.” You could feel the hardness growing against you.

“Of course. Got my sexy lady beneath me,” he said, kissing down your neck. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You giggled, your breath catching as his lips grazed a sensitive spot.

“This spot feel good?” He asked, repeating the action.

You nodded, tilting your head back to give him more access. “Yeah, feels good, Mike.”

“Let me take care of you,” he said, kissing down to your collarbone. His hands ran up underneath your shirt, thumbs tracing the skin just below the bottom edge of your bra. “Lift up your arms.”

You nodded, biting the edge of your lip. This was a change from the other men you’d been with, who barely gave your pleasure a second thought unless it was groping aggressively at your breasts like they were water balloons. It wasn’t a surprise though that Michael, who was sweet, attentive, and loving, would be enthralled at the idea of focusing on your satisfaction before his own.

As your arms lifted, he worked your shirt up over your head, letting out a noise of appreciation at his view. “So gorgeous,” he said. His shirt came off next, and then his lips were back against your neck, pressing a chaste peck to your pulse point. He reached around you, unclasping your bra, and you helped him discard it completely. Your first instinct was to cover your chest but he pouted, reaching for your hands to pull them away. “Please don’t hide from me, gorgeous.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, your face flushed with warmth. “I’m a little nervous. Been a while since anyone’s seen me naked.”

Michael smiled, kissing your lips once more. “Me too,” he admitted. “We can be nervous together.” He trailed his lips down your body, kisses lingering down your neck until his mouth was eventually at your sternum. His mouth worked over one of your breasts before he got to your nipple, and the initial feeling of his lips wrapping around your bud sent a pang of desire and pleasure through your body. As you arched up into him, he suctioned his lips, pulling your nipple farther into his mouth. Hearing the moan that broke from you, Michael reached a hand between your legs, sliding his palm beneath the fabric of your panties. Two of his fingers found your clit almost instantly, and you let out a gasp. You were so worked up that you worried your orgasm was already on its way, and he’d barely done anything yet.

Michael kissed his way over to your other breast, his two fingers sliding down the center of you. “So wet, baby. This all for me?”

You moaned a little, biting down on your lip hard in hopes to distract yourself with the intent of toning down the sounds you were making. “Y-yes,” you replied, unable to hold in the gasp as he found your clit again. “For you.”

Michael smiled, sucking at your breast again before he kissed his way up to your lips. “Take off your panties for me, baby.” He sat back a little, giving you some space.

You quickly complied, tossing them over the side of the bed. You shivered a little, your knees fighting the urge to press together as you glanced up at Michael. His eyes were trailing up and down your body, his pupils dilated so much you could barely see the beautiful brown of his irises.

“So beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

Your breath came out a little shaky as you nodded, resting against the bed so your back was flat. You stretched your legs in front of you, spreading them enough so that he could stare between your thighs. The wetness of your arousal was leaking out of you, so much so that you felt a little self-conscious. “Mike, please stop staring,” you said after another moment of silence.

“Sorry baby,” he chucked, shaking his head a little. “Trying to memorize you.”

You laughed despite your nerves, putting your hands over your face to hide the flush of warmth at your cheeks. “Are you gonna touch me now, or do I have to do it myself?”

Michael smirked at that, shuffling up towards you. Before you could say anything else, he was between your legs, breath warm against your throbbing center. “As much as I would love the show,” he said, blowing once against you resulting in a quiet moan from you in response. “I need to taste you, beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to form a retort, but your mind went blank as soon as you felt his tongue pressing against you. He licked up once, tongue flattening out and finding your clit. The feeling was almost entirely too much, and your hands found the comforter beneath you to steady their shaking. Michael was slowly sucking at your clit, humming against you, before he would alternate with a slow, deep pressure against you. His tongue was working in circles, drawing out every whimper you tried so hard to fight back. Just when you thought you could catch your breath, he pushed his tongue inside of you, and you cried out.

“Oh G-God, Michael, please,” you babbled, tears prickling your eyes. “Feels so good.”

Michael worked himself inside of you, and you glanced down just as he pulled his tongue out, his fingers quickly replacing the loss. His lips, nose, and chin were glistening with your arousal and you felt lightheaded at the sight. “Are you gonna come for me, angel?” He asked, reattaching his lips to your clit so he could suck the throbbing bundle of nerves. His fingers inside of you curled expertly, finding the spot that had your body jolting up off of the bed.

You tried to respond but you couldn’t form the words, moaning in response as your chest rose and fell rapidly. The pump of his fingers was relentless, a delicious feeling that had you thrashing on the bed.

“Baby so overwhelmed she can’t answer me?” Michael cooed, slowing down a little.

You whined at the change of pace, feeling one tear escape your left eye as you looked down at him. He was watching you with rapt attention, a small smirk on his face. “Yes, yes, please go faster, Mikey. Wanna come so bad.”

“Sweet girl,” he said, the slightly patronizing tone causing a thrill of pleasure through you. He obliged of course, returning his mouth to your clit as his fingers resumed an unyielding pace. It only took a few more moments of this until you threw your head back, clenching around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you. Your moans fell silent as he worked you through it, your body convulsing in ways it never had before.

“Mikey,” you pleaded as you came down, clenching around his fingers again that were still inside of you. “Too much, baby.”

Michael smiled, pace slowing a little, but remaining inside. He kissed your inner thigh, resting his forehead against you. “I think you can give me another one, huh?”

A breathy laugh escaped you. “Don’t you want a turn?”

“I’m fine,” he assured you, thumb catching at your clit as he kissed right over the tattoo that had started all of this in the first place. “I could spend forever between your legs, baby.”

Your hand wove into the curls at the side of his head, just above his ear. “I must be dreaming,” you replied, arching up a little as his thumb worked over you faster. “All the men I’ve been with have been so selfish in bed.”

Michael let out a groan of irritation, pumping his fingers into you even faster now. “And not one of them deserved you,” he said. “Let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, a quiet moan filling the air between you as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the sensation of him once again. He was fucking you with his fingers quickly and deeply, repeatedly passing over your sweet spot. Your clit was never ignored as he went, whether the stimulation was with his thumb or mouth. It only took a few more minutes before you were trembling again, clenching down on his fingers and tugging at his hair as gently as you could. “Michael,” you moaned, head turning from side to side. “Please,” was all you could get out before you fell apart again. You saw stars, arching off the bed and letting out a moan that was closer to a scream. Michael continued to work you through it of course, murmuring how good you were, kissing your hipbone repeatedly.

You pushed back at his head, tears welling in your eyes. “I-I can’t, please,” you begged.

Michael relented, pulling his fingers out with a little resistance, your walls clenching around him so tightly he had to go slowly. “My baby,” he said, kissing up your body until he met your lips. “Felt really good, right?”

You nodded, kissing him back. “Yes, baby, thank you.”

He smiled, kissing you once more before he rolled over on his own back, reaching for the button of his jeans. “I really want to be inside of you right now,” he said, face flushing. “Can I, please?”

Despite your sensitivity after two earth shattering orgasms, you didn’t feel the need to deny his request. Michael was pouting a little, thumb running back and forth over the hem of his jeans in uncertainty. “Yes,” you said, giggling a little. “Go slow, though. Need to catch my breath first.”

“Of course,” he replied, smiling. He stripped himself of his clothing almost instantly, laughing a little under his breath. “I wanna try something,” he said, a little nervous.

“What is it, baby?” You asked him, crawling on top of his lap. Your warm cunt dragged across his erection, and he threw his head back against the pillows. You settled against him, not moving.

“Hold on,” he said, groaning a little. “I need to grab something.” He shuffled off of the bed, rummaging through the messy drawer of his nightstand. “I got this in Japan,” he said, pulling out a Hitachi wand. Your breath caught. “Heard some ladies talking about it.” He pressed down on the button, and the machine came to life with a loud buzz. “Apparently it feels really good, you know. During sex.”

Your thighs clamped together, body already trembling a little. “I’ve never used one,” you told him, blinking a few times as he turned it off. “Have you?”

“No,” Michael replied. “They advertised it as a massager. But I bet…” he trailed off, looking up with a boyish smile. “I can imagine you can use it for lots of different reasons.”

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” you said, biting down on your lip.

Michael laughed at that, setting the wand down as he crawled back on the bed. “Not gonna use it right this minute,” he promised. “Can we try it in a little bit?”

You nodded, laughing gently. “Yes.”

“That’s my girl,” Michael smiled, pulling you towards him. “Wanna ride me, baby? Use me for yourself.”

Your clit pulsed at that, and you nodded, watching as he got down in position with his head against the pillows. You got into his lap once more, thighs spread around his hips, a small smile on your face. “I love you,” you said quietly, kissing him once. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Michael smiled, resting his hands on your hips. “I love you more, and I’m sorry too.”

You looked down between the two of you, and grabbed his dick, running a thumb over his leaking tip. He let out a groan as you positioned him at your entrance, and both of you braced as you began to drop down the length of him. You held your breath until you were seated all the way, falling forward until your face was against his chest. Your legs were wobbly, already worn out from your previous orgasms. “I feel like jelly,” you admitted, attempting to lift yourself up and down a little.

“I’ve got you,” Michael said, keeping his hold on your lips as he thrust up into you from below. You both moaned at the feeling.

“Y-you’re so big,” you whined, your head resting against his shoulder. “Feels so good.”

Michael groaned a little, lifting you up and allowing you to drop back down before he found a steady pace with his thrusts, working into you slowly. “You feel so good, too,” he said, voice full of bliss.

You both went at this for a few more minutes before Michael flipped you over, holding you against him so he could remain inside of you as he placed you on the bed below him. Your back hit the mattress, and he reached behind you to prop a pillow up underneath your hips. His pace quickened as he began to thrust deeper into you, causing your breasts to bounce up and down. He latched himself to one of your nipples again, thrusting so deep you saw stars behind your now-closed eyes. You could hear Michael shuffling beside you, and before you could ask anything, you heard the buzz of the magic wand in his hand. You opened your eyes, gaze widening at the massager before meeting his stare.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Michael said, thrusts not relenting as he reached between the two of you and pressed the head of the toy to your clit. He used his other hand to spread you open, providing direction stimulation to your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, body jolting and spine arching against him. “Oh my God, Michael.”

Michael groaned in response, thrusting even harder, the slap of your hips meeting rivaling the sound of the buzz from the wand. You couldn’t speak anymore, once again feeling tears forming in your eyes as he ground into you. After only a few minutes of the massager against you, you arched up one last time, squeezing around his dick as your climax reached its peak. Michael’s thrusts grew sloppy as he watched you fall apart, and you felt his warm release inside of you only moments after. You reached between the two of you, shoving the Hitachi to the side, tears running down your face. “Can’t,” you got out, voice raw and ruined.

Michael collapsed on top of you, breath loud and chest heaving. “Oh God,” he groaned, his voice not sounding much better than yours.

“I think you broke me,” you said after a beat of silence, feeling your heart still rattling against your chest.

Michael’s laugh rumbled against you as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. “We are definitely using that again,” he said, and you could feel his lips curl into a smile.

You smiled as well, one hand nestling into the curls at the nape of his neck as the other reached for his hand. “Only if I can use it on you.”

Michael groaned at that, turning over. You felt a pang below, his softened member that was still inside of you already hardening again. “You don’t have any plans for the rest of the week, right?”

You giggled, kissing his forehead. “I’m all yours.”