Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
such a perv āāāāąØą§āāāā m. jackson
wc: 3k
coupling: michael jackson x fem!reader
era: off the wall
summary: you catch michael jerking off to one of your sexy little polaroid pics that he stole from your boyfriend's wallet. The sweet girl that you are, you decide to put him out his misery.
warnings: heavy smut with little plot, cheating, dom!reader, sub!michael, virgin!michael, creampie (sorry not sorry), f! oral receiving, m! oral receiving, michael is heavily inexperienced,
a/n: Iāve lowk been wanting to write something virgin michael based & this is what I came up with!! & also Iāve been in heat this week for some reason so fuck all that cute shit hereās sumthin dirty xoxo
š£²masterlist/taglist
Michael plops himself on the edge of his bed, the sunlight pooling through the window behind him & on the polariod heās holding, a polaroid of you. In the picture, youāre sat on your boyfriendās lap in an oversized tee, probably his. Your bare ass is jutted out as you look back, smiling cutely at the camera lens, your boyfriendās hand gripping the fat of your cheek. As much as Michael loves it, it doesnāt belong to him.
The Polaroid heās holding actually belongs to your boyfriend, your loyal & loving boyfriend. He found it poking out his wallet that was laying on the couch while you, Janet, his brothers & of course your boyfriend, were in the occupied in the back garden drinking & chatting, completely unaware of his sly acts.
Michaelās always been a bit nosey, especially when it comes to you & your boyfriend. He canāt help but despise him, hates the way he looks at you, hates the way he touches you. Heād always feel a way when you brought him over almost every-time you visited. He was still such a boy even in his 20ās, so lustful & envious yet so shy & enclosed.
Heād always ogle at you from across the room anytime you werenāt looking. The natural pout of your ripe pink lips, or the way your tits would bounce a little any time you giggled or moved, practically threatening to fall out of your skimpy camisole.
He lays back on the bed, placing the sultry Polaroid next to him so heās able to pull of his shorts & his boxers, his eyes never leaving the picture beside him. He leaves them pooled at his ankles, too excited & frantic to take them off completely.
His cock is already rock hard, standing upright, just begging to be milked after multiple painful hours of weeping pre-cum in his pants from the way your ass looked in those denim shorts today. Thank god it was summer, he thought to himself.
His cheeks flush hot & pink as he picks up the picture again, trembling from adrenaline. He knows itās wrong, youāre taken, someone elseās property. But Michaelās a traditional man, a boyfriend aināt a husband is it?
He wraps a shaky hand around his meaty shaft, long nā full veins already making an appearance under the skin from his intense arousal.
Shallow pathetic whimpers fall from his lips as he gently strokes his cock, staring at your slutty little picture, his mouth agape. Heās never been so erect in his life, he can barely wrap it around his hand from how big itās gotten.
"God help me." He whispers, his voice box cracking.
He was obsessed with you, heās had a crush on you ever since Janet brought you over, heās just never acted on it as heās doing now.
His attempts to keep his eyes out the back of his head start to fail as he gets closer to his climax, his hips bucking sloppily into his fist as he shuts his eyes, falling deeper into his imagination & less in reality with each stroke. Your name fell out of his mouth instinctively like a mantra, his cock a ticking time bomb in his grasp.
All of a sudden, his selfish trance was broken with a creak with what sounded like a door. He looks to the sound briefly, thinking it was something else. But it wasn't, it was you. You'd been standing in the doorway for at least 2 minutes, leaning against it with your mouth pried open in a teasing, judgmental manner. Secretly, you liked watching him touch himself when he knew no one was watching, you found it primal & dirty.
It was you who'd pushed the door open a little so it would creak, making yourself known to Michael.
As soon as he saw you, he shot up & grabbed his boxers to pull them up in a scurried motion. He looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes all blown out & scattered. You watch him slide the Polaroid under his pillow, thinking you wouldn't notice, but of course you did.
Before he could open his mouth to talk, you butt in.
"I was just walkin' past, & I heard my name?" you coo, your sweet Indiana accent making him even more shy.
You step into the room, closing & locking the door behind you with a small click as he sits up. His shorts are still pooled at his ankles as you move closer, taking a seat next to him.
He plants his face in his hands, stiff as anything. He genuinely looked as if he could cry. The last thing he expected to see was you, that's the last person he'd want to see him in that state.
"m' so sorryā" Is all he could manage, his voice shaky & eyes glossy as he looks at you, "please don't tell Janet, I'll do anything for you not to tell her, Im so sorryā"
You place a hand on his cheek, caressing him softly as you tilt your head with a small pout of your lips.
"I ain't gonna tell anyone, okay baby?" You mewl at him like a kid as you nod.
He nods along like he has no mind of his own, totally dumbfounded by anything you tell him. Now that you think of it, he kind of reminds you of a puppy.
"I wasn't thinkin' about you though, I promise, it was just to some Playboy magazines." He protests.
You let out a little giggle as you pull out the Polaroid sticking out from under his pillow like a sore thumb. You hold it up in front of his face with an amused expression.
āWhatās this then huh?ā
You watch the colour literally drain out of Michael's face as he goes silent. His pulse booms in his ears as he feels his hands grow clammy. He stammers as he tries to explain himself to no avail.
"That's not mineā" He says.
"I know it's not yours silly, it's my boyfriend's." You reply, your bottom lip drawing in from how horny he must've been to take this.
"N-no, but I dont know how it got here."
You tut, putting the polaroid on the bedside table.
āIām not dumb, I mean lookāā you lift his hand off his crotch, revealing his hard poking under his boxers. He hisses through his teeth from the mere sensation of you touching his hand.
āYouāre still hard, I know you were touching yourself to me. Youāre such a little perv.ā
āNo I promise it wasnāt like that.ā He presses, shaking his head.
You start to pull his shorts off from his ankles, startling him.
āWhat are you doing?ā He says frantically, his eyes darting back & fourth from your face to where youāre pulling his shorts off.
āShh, just relax.ā You whisper, throwing his shorts to the floor, āIām just trying to help you, but you canāt tell my boyfriend, you hearing me?ā
Selfishly, you wanted his dick after seeing the size of it. & plus, youāve always found him cute, Janetās shy older brother who doesnāt talk much always appealed to you.
Michael watches you as if youāll disappear if he blinks or moves an inch. He nods slowly in regard to your statement, understanding whatās going on. To him everything feels like a hazy dream, like he hasnāt accepted its reality yet.
You throw his shorts on the ground, leaving him in his boxers as you situate yourself in-between his legs. Your mouth salivates at the sight of him under the fabric like an incubus, ready to feed of him.
You caress his slim thighs, the stubble of hair making your palms tingle.
āWait, this is wrong. This is really wrong.ā Michael whines, dragging a hand across his face as he watches you tug at the hem of his boxers.
āIāve always had a little thing for you Mikey, yāknow that?ā You say, pulling down his boxers & off his feet.
āāAlways found you so cute.ā You continue.
His cock sprung free the second you pulled down his boxers, hitting his lower abdomen. His tip was a deep mauve, glistening pre-cum still gathered at the top. His chest rises & falls as he stares at you, waiting for you to make another move.
You take his shaft in your hand & you can barely get it around. He bites his bottom lip at the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him. You bring your hand up to his mouth, laying your palm out.
āSpit,ā you tell him.
He does as you say, gathering as much salvia as he can to put on your hand. You rub the fluids onto the head of his cock as you begin stroking slowly.
Michaelās eyes pinch shut tightly as he battles with something deep inside him. Heās tried to be holy his entire life, as unlustful as possible, following the ways of God. Not only that, but he was also thinking about how angry his brothers would be if they found out he betrayed their close friend. So many things were circling in his mind.
That thinking was soon brought to a stop as he feels something warm & wet touch him down there. He opens his eyes, seeing you bent slightly with your plumpy lips wrapped perfectly around his swollen tip.
āOh my god,ā he groans.
You swirl your tongue around his tip as you watch him squirm & struggle. His knuckles turning white as he tugs at the sheets beside him. You loved how in control you felt. You wrap a hand around the bottom of his base, not being able to take him all.
You begin bobbing your head up & down his shaft enthusiastically, squeezing him tighter with your wrapped hand as little gags rip from your throat, making him swell larger in your mouth. You love your boyfriend, but you didnāt expect Janetās brotherās to be bigger than him. You release him from your mouth with a wet pop, stroking him absentmindedly.
āAnyone ever done this to you before?ā You question with a twinkle in your eye.
Michael shakes his head frantically, his breath now completely erratic.
āNo never, Iāve never done something like this before.ā He admits, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
You hum in satisfaction, āyouāre so innocent, thatās what I loved about you. You aināt like everyone else, youāre pure.ā
Michaelās unable to respond as he watches you remove your t-shirt, leaving you in your black laced bra. You lean down, giving his cock one last lick from bottom to top, making him wince & contract.
You stand on your feet as you push him back so heās laying flat on his back, helpless. You reach behind you, unclasping your bra. Your perky tits fall free, sitting politely infront of him as you let the useless material fall to the ground.
āYouāre so perfect, so beautiful.ā Michael says barely above a whisper. His mouth falls agape as he gawks at them like a moth to a flame.
You giggle as you bend down, pushing your capris down your legs & off your feet. You follow along with your panties, throwing them onto his chest. He wastes no time in grabbing & touching them as if theyāre gold. He brings them to his face, inhaling the natural scent of you heād been dreaming of.
Never would you think youād be standing in front of Michael stark naked. He relishes in the sight of you, his cock visually twitching as he furrows his brows. He comes back to reality for a second.
āWhat if someone comes? My brothers or Janetāā
āThey wonāt, just be quiet & they wonāt okay?ā You say, walking over to him as you situate yourself on his lap.
You were just about to grab & position him to your entrance when he stops you, grabbing your waist.
āWait, can I?ā He whispers nervously, pointing to your pussy.
You get off him, looking a little confused. You think you know what heās asking for, yet you love to play games.
āCan you what baby? Use the right words.ā
He hesitates before finally saying, āCan I lick it? Just wanna taste it so bad.ā
āCāmere then.ā
You nod with little giggle as you lean your back on his headboard spreading your legs in-front of him. You play with yourself with one hand, the other reaching out to place on his head as he lays down on his stomach. He looks up at you momentarily as you thread his curls between your fingers tediously.
He latches his mouth on your pussy instantly, lapping up your juices from bottom to top. The hums of satisfaction from him send a vibration to your clit, making you tense up & whimper. For someone whoās never eaten pussy before, he does it pretty well. Your boyfriend never made you feel this way, not enough desire as Michael has.
He continues suckling gently, moving to random places that wouldnāt usually bring pleasure, completely messy & inexperienced but so damn desperate.
āFeels real good Mikey, just like that donāt stop mākay?ā You breathe out, your thighs starting to clench as your eyes become teary.
You pinch your eyes shut, the muffled sounds of him slurping up your arousal adding to your pleasure. His hand comes up to gently grab one of your breasts.
āRight there, gonna come, y-yeahāā
Before you can process anything else, an orgasm rips through you with searing force. You arch your back into a sharp C as Michael makes an attempt to keep riding you through it with his mouth. Deep guttural moans erupt from your throat as you cover it with your hand, trying to stay quiet.
Michael sits up, wiping his chin with his wrist as he smiles in pleasure.
āYou taste,ā he pauses, āso good.ā
You push him back down again to his original position, crawling on top of him as you hover yourself above his erect cock. You grab his face gently, pulling him in closer for a messy kiss. Heās probably been dreaming of simply kissing you for a while.
He moans into the kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, both of you extremely horny & greedy for eachother.
You reach down & grab his base, angling him perfectly with your weeping slit. Once itās in the perfect position, you sit up & place both your hands on his chest.
āRemember, not a soul.ā You remind him, placing a finger over his damp lips.
Michael blinks at you with his big brown adoring eyes, humming in submission as he waits impatiently to be inside of you. Heās excitement is tripled due to him never having sex, always having to wonder how it felt.
Finally, you start to sink down onto his length slowly. Each inch fills you up to the brim more & more, causing your eyes to roll back automatically. You reach the bottom, wiggling your ass you try to squeeze the last inch inside.
āIt's so much bigger than his, fuck.ā You whimper as you start to create little bounces.
Michaelās head falls back as low strangled groans rip from his throat. Heās not touching you yet, as if heās afraid to overstep a boundary.
āYou can touch me, Michael.ā You say in between moans.
You bring his hands up to grab your hips, looking at you dumbfounded. He grabs you so gently you can barely even feel it. He slides his hands down towards your ass with a squeeze, a little wave of confidence washing over him.
"Like this?" he asks.
"Yes, exactly like that."
You continue bouncing on his length, a sweet ring of white elixir forming between the base of his cock & your pussy. Even if you two werenāt making noise, the obvious sound of skin slapping against skin & the erotic sounds of your mixed arousal filling the room ā almost ratting out your little secret to the rest of the house.
āit's so tight,ā he manages to push out.
Never would Michael have thought his first time would be having his cock shoved deep inside his sister's best friend, he genuinely didn't know how to operate. All he knew was unrelenting pleasure, the rest of his brain foggy.
The room begins to feel humid, the unique aroma of your scents melting together to create an addictive combination that fills your nose with each breath.
Michaelās hips rut into you desperately from beneath, the thrusts becoming sloppy & erratic as he chases his release. He sits up slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower waist as he latches his mouth onto one of your nipples. He sucks with a warm gentle pull, catching the breath from your throat. He pulls you in tighter each second he gets closer, murmuring gibberish around your areola.
You hold the back of his head, running your manicured nails through his hair as you continue bouncing on him, occasionally grinding back & fourth.
āThink Iām gonna come, canāt stop.ā He moans around your breast.
You pant furiously as you feel your own release crest in your lower belly, āf-fuck, me too. Come with me honey.ā
Before you could move any more, the cord in your belly snaps. Your second orgasm riding through you blissfully. You throw your head onto Michaelās shoulder as you cry, your heartbeat booming in your ears as blind spots cover your vision temporarily.
Michael tried to last in hopes of staying inside you longer, yet the way your pussy tightened around him during your orgasm brought him to a sudden halt.
"Gonna comeā"
His body stiffens up as he releases himself with one last thrust beneath you. He pauses before a singular, lengthy moan escapes his throat. You feel his warm seed paint your walls as he twitches, flopping onto his back as he tries to steady his breathing.
You lean forward, allowing him to slowly fall out of you. His flaccid length drops down on his abdomen as soon as it leaves you, his release dripping from you & onto his thighs.
All that was left was you & michael's bodies spent & glued together, a secret that only you two will have to hold from now on.
You look down at him, all fucked out & mesmerised by you. His eyes search you as if you're not supposed to be real. You pepper a kiss on his cheek,
"You're going to make this real difficult aren't you?"
synopsis: michael notices that his brothers find his girlfriend hot and he gets jealous, proving to them that youāre all his.
warnings: marlon attempting to flirt with you, jealous michael, angry sex, fingers in mouth (bring it back), overhearing, smut, dom michael, thatās genuinely just dada.
a/n: guys iām sorry iām ovulating i donāt know what came over me with this one. i got a little carried away.
you, michael and his brothersātito, jackie, jermaine, marlon, and randyāwere all having a pool day at hayvenhurst as it was a hot summer day. all six boys were dressed in their swim trunks, you were dressed in a skimpy red bikini that sat on your body perfectly.
michaelās eyes were fixed on you as you emerged from the house in your red bikini. the colour complimented your sun-kissed skin, and the string ties on the sides accentuated your curves.
his brothers all looked your way as you walked out the door, walking towards themātito let out a low whistle, jackie raised his eyebrows, jermaine smirked, and marlon sat up straight in his lounge chairāmichael felt a surge of possessiveness he hadnāt experienced before.
as you walked towards michael, his eyes darkened with desire and jealously. he knew his brothers were checking you outāyour long legs, your toned stomach, and your tits that sat perfectlyāhe wanted to throw a towel over you and carry you inside. ābaby,ā he called out softly.
you heard michaelās soft call and looked over at him, a warm smiling spreading across your face. his eyes were dark, intenseāfocused on you with that hungry look he only ever showed when they were aloneāyou walked over to him, sitting on a lounge chair.
āwhatās up?ā you asked, tilting your head slightly at him.
before michael could answer, his brothers were making their presence known, clearly appreciating the view. marlon was the boldest, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look, his eyes shamelessly sweeping over your body.
ādamn, mike,ā marlon called out with a teasing grin, leaning back on his elbows. āwhere have you been hiding her?ā
michaelās jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. he stepped closer to you, his hand finding the small of your back possessively as he pulled you against his chest. āsheās not hidden anywhere, marlon,ā michael said, his voice tight with restrained irritation. āsheās mine. has been for two years.ā
marlon just laughed, clearly not taking michaelās warning seriously. ārelax, mike. weāre just admiring the view.ā he grinned, pushing michaelās buttons on purpose.
tito chuckled from his lounge chair, flipping through a magazine but clearly paying attention. āmarlon, youāre gonna get your ass kicked today.ā
jermaine smirked, swirling the drink in his hand. ācan you blame him though? that bikini is doing something to me.ā he said, joining in on the teasing.
jackie joined inc leaning forward on his knees. āmike, you better put a collar on her man. weāre all thinking the same thing.ā the competitive teasing among the brothers was escalating and michaelās body was rigid against yours, his hand tightening on your waist as he pulled you flush against his wet chest.
his lips brushed against your ear, voice dropping to that whisper that you knew meant he was dangerously jealous. āignore them, baby. theyāre just being stupid.ā but his hands were already sliding lower, his fingers playing with the strings of your bikini bottoms possessively.
marlon wasnāt done with his teasing, standing up and stretching deliberately. ātwo years, huh?ā
you rolled your eyes at the brothersā antics, used to their teasing by now. you wrapped your arms around michaelās neck, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw to calm him down. āpay them no mind,ā you murmured, nipping lightly at his earlobe.
michaelās breath hitched at your touch, his eyes fluttering briefly closed before he opened them again, dark with desire and frustration. he cupped your face with one hand, thing brushing over your lip. āi wish theyād shut the fuck up,ā he whispered.
marlon laughed like he knew exactly what he was doing. ātwo years and sheās still not as when you first snatched her. you fucking that every night?ā everyone went silent. michaelās body stiffened dangerously. āmarlonā¦ā tito warned.
michaelās eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, his fingers stilling on your waist. he didnāt answer marlonās crude question. instead, he grabbed your wrist and turned toward the door. āmike, we were just playing!ā jackie called out, but michael didnāt turn back.
without a word, michael dragged you into the house, his strides long and purposeful. he didnāt stop until he reached his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you. once inside, he stood in front of you, chest heaving with angry breaths.
āi swear to god, ive never wanted to punch marlon more in my life,ā michael muttered, pacing away from you. he was jealous and clearly trying not to explode. āthat was so disrespectful.ā he ran a hand through his curls.
you watched him pace, knowing he needed to cool off. when he finally paused, you stepped up behind him, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. michaelās shoulders sagged slightly, his voice strained. ādonāt touch me right now, okay?ā
he sounded mean, but you knew it wasnāt directed at you. you kept kissing his back softly, his shoulders, his neck. michael didnāt push you away. he groaned instead, his body relaxing gradually. ābaby, stop,ā he muttered softly, but his voice lacked real irritation.
āiām not stopping until you stop being so mad at your brothers,ā you murmured against his damp skin, your lips trailing down his spine.
michael exhaled sharply, his hands bracing against the dresser. āthey were looking at you like they wanted to fuck you,ā he admitted in a low, wounded tone. āand marlonā¦ā
āand marlon was being an asshole,ā you finished for him, your fingers working to massage his tense shoulders. ābut youāre the one iām with, mikey. not them. iām wearing your ring on my finger, not theirs. iāve been sleeping in your bed for two years.ā you pressed closer.
michael turned around slowly, his dark eyes searching your face. the jealousy was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but your words had softened him. he reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. ātwo years,ā he repeated softly, leaning his forehead against yours. āand you still look at me like that.ā
his lips found yours gently, a soft, apologetic kiss meant to reassure rather than arouse. his hands stayed on your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he kissed you slowly, deeply.
you pulled back just enough to breathe, your forehead still resting against his. āyou know i only have eyes for you, michael.ā you smiled softly, pecking the tip of his nose. āalways have. always will. those brothers of yours can look all they want, theyāll never have me.ā
michael chuckled softly, the tension finally leaving his body. āyeah, well, i donāt like them looking.ā michael admitted, his voice dropping low. āespecially marlon, heās got a dirty mouth.ā
you laughed softly, cupping his jaw. āmarlonās a shit-talker, everyone knows that. youāre the only one i want, mikey.ā
michael nodded, the last of his jealousy fading away as he looked into your eyes. he took a deep breath, then sighted contentedly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. āletās go back downstairs,ā he said, resting his chin on top of your head. āiām sure theyāre wondering where we disappeared to.ā
you both returned downstairs after a few more calming minutes. the brothers were still by the pool, now joined by randy whoād just arrived. when they saw you both walk out together, the teasing immediately resumed.
ālook who finally decided to come back!ā marlon called out with a grin. ādid you finally get some, mike? you seem less tense.ā
michael shot him a death glare but kept his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. āfunny. real funny.ā he guided you to sit with him on one of the lounge chairs, your back against his chest.
you smiled at marlon sweetly, āactually, yes. your brother is amazing. you should find yourself a good woman instead of staring at other peopleās girlfriends.ā
marlon laughed, looking away exaggeratedly. ādamn, sheās got a sharp tongue.ā the other brothers chuckled, knowing marlon deserved it. michael smirked, āthatās my girlā he murmured possessively.
the teasing and joking continued, but michael kept you close, his arm around you all the time. you could tell he was still a bit territorial, but the real anger was gone. when jackie started playing around in the pool, splashing everyone, michael actually laughed.
marlon suddenly dove into the pool, surfacing near you with a mischievous grin. ācome on, get in.ā he splashed water playfully in your direction. you laughed, standing up from the lounge chair. āoh, youāre on.ā you walked up to the edge of the pool and jumped in.
michael watched you with a smile, leaning back on the chair as you and marlon started messing around in the pool. they were just playing, but michael couldnāt help noticing how comfortable you looked with his brothers. you fit in so well with their crazy dynamic.
marlon splashed you playfully, ducking when you tried to retaliate. ācome on, princess, letās see what you got!ā he teased, grinning widely. you wiped water from your eyes, laughing. āprincess? ill show you princess!ā you lunged at him, splashing water everywhere as you both splashed around.
marlon caught your wrist as you splashed at him, pulling you closer with a smirk. āyou know, youāre even prettier when youāre mad.ā he lowered his voice, leaning in slightly. āever thought about dating a jackson properly? i could treat you real nice.ā
you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. āin your dreams, marlon.ā
marlon chuckled, refusing to be deterred. āhey, just saying. michaelās got the temper, but iāve got the charm.ā he winked, making a show of flexing his arms. from the lounge chair, michael leaned forward, his voice carrying across the pool deck. āmarlon, keep your charm to yourself before i drown you.ā
marlon raised his hands in surrender, laughing as he floated backward. āiām just playing, mike! damn, canāt a man compliment his brothers girl?ā he shot you a wink. āyou look better wet anyway, sweetheart.ā
you laughed, splashing water directly into marlonās face. ākeep dreaming, marlon.ā
marlon wiped water from his face dramatically, then swam closer to whisper in your ear. ābut seriously, princess. when this inevitable blow-up happens, you know where to find me.ā his hand brushed your waist under the water.
before you could respond, michael was already in the pool, coming towards you and marlon. michael grabbed marlonās shoulder, his grip tight. āi swear, marlon, if youāre hitting on my girlā¦ā his voice was deadly calm. āiāll break every bone in your body.ā he then looked at you, ābaby, come here.ā
you didnāt hesitate, swimming away from marlon and straight into michaelās waiting arms. he wrapped them around you securely, glaring daggers at his brother. ākeep your hands to yourself,ā michael warned him, kissing your temple. marlon held his hands up, splashing water innocently, āi was just playing!ā
michael scoffed, pulling you closer. āyeah, right. youāve been flirting with her since she got here.ā he buried his face in your neck, his possessiveness on full display. āiām not stupid. i can see what youāre doing.ā
marlon grinned unapologetically, swimming backward. āand what if i am? sheās gorgeous. any man would try his luck.ā he looked at you appreciatively. āthose legs, that smileā¦damn, mikey. you got yourself a keeper.ā
michaelās arms tightened around you possessively, but you could tell he was trying not to explode. he took a deep breath, āmarlon, shut up and go flirt with someone else. like jackieās girlfriend. she seems into your smooth talk.ā
after a few more minutes of acting like kids in the pool, everyone finally climbed out of the pool. you wrapped yourself in a towel, sitting on one of the lounge chairs next to michael. everyone sat close, drying off and chatting casually. marlon sat closest to you and on your other side.
marlon stretched out on the lounge chair next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. āyou know, i bet you look even better without this towel.ā he smirked at you, eyes trailing down your body lazily. michaelās jaw clenched so hard you heard it.
marlon reached over and tugged lightly at the corner of your towel. ājust a peek, princess? come onā
thatās when michael snapped. he was off the lounge chair in an instant, grabbing marlon by the collar and yanking him up. ātouch her one more time with that tiny dick energy and iāll leave you floating in the pool with a broken jaw.ā
marlon laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. he was used to pushing michaelās buttons, but he knew when to back off. āwhoa, okay! jeez, youāre touchy about your girl. i was just messing with you.ā he grinned mischievously.
michael slowly released marlonās collar but didnāt look away. āif you ever pull that shit again, i donāt care if weāre brothers. got it?ā his voice was low and dangerous. marlon raised his hands, still smirking. āgot it, mike. god, possessive much.ā he flopped back onto his chair dramatically.
you laughed softly, shaking your head at the two of them. michael kissed your forehead then sat back down, pulling you onto his lap. āignore him. heās got no self-control.ā
marlon shot back, āme? days the guy who nearly murdered me for complimenting his girl.ā michael rested his chin on your shoulder, āyou were doing more than complimenting.ā
marlon rolled his eyes, grabbing his sunglasses form the side table. āiām going in to get the rest of them. at least they appreciate my presence.ā he sauntered off towards the house, calling over his shoulder, ācall me if you get tired of mr. grumpy!ā
once the house quieted down and the brothers filtered inside, michael was still angry. he stood up, taking your hand firmly. ācome on. upstairs. now.ā his tone left no room for argument.
you followed him up the stairs, noticing how tightly he gripped your hand. you reached his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind you.
michael paced the room, running his hands through his damp hair. he looked frustrated, jaw tight. āi swear, if he touches you againāā he stopped, turning to face you. āwhy did you let him get away with it? you laughed it off like it was nothing, as if you liked it.ā
you smirked, knowing what game you could play with this. you crossed your arms over your chest, grinning. āmaybe i did like it. maybe i liked how he touched me in the pool.ā you watched michaelās face darken with anger, exactly the reaction you wanted. āwhat if i want him to do it again?ā
michael stood in front of you, his face inches from yours. he was breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. ādonāt test me. you know exactly what will happen if you let him touch you again.ā his voice was low and dangerous.
you tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes. āor what, michael? youāll hit your own brother? break his jaw like you threatened?ā you stepped closer, poking his chest. āmaybe i like making you jealous.ā michael grabbed your hand, pinning it against his chest. āyou think this is funny?ā
his grip tightened slightly around your wrist. āyou think my possessiveness is a joke?ā he backed you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed, forcing you down. āi donāt share. period. and i sure as hell wonāt share you with my brother.ā he leaned over you, caging you in with his arms.
michaelās breathing was heavy, his eyes dark with jealousy as he hovered over you. āyouāre mine. do you understand me?ā his voice was rough, desperate. āi canāt stand the thought of anyone else touching you.ā
you could feel his anger and jealousy radiating off him in waves. you looked up at him calmlyāeven though you were anything but calm, you were extremely turned on by the jealous side of him that you had never seen beforeāa small smile playing on your lips. āprove it then,ā you whispered, leaning back on your hands, spreading your legs slightly in a silent challenge. āif youāre so jealous, prove it.ā
michaelās eyes darkened further at your challenge. he didnāt hesitate. one moment he was hovering over you, the next his hands were on your thighs, pushing your legs wider apart as he settled between them. his mouth crashing against yours with a fierce, almost punishing intensity.
his kiss was rough, possessive, and demandingāeverything youād teased him about. he bit your bottom lip hard enough to sting, then soothed it with his tongue. his hands roamed your body possessively, gripping your hips like he was staking a claim.
his hands traced over your bikini clad body, rough and urgent. āiāll remind you who you belong to all night long.ā he marked your neck, marking you where everyone would see. ālet him flirt with his heart out when youāre walking around with my markings on you.ā
michaelās hand slid under your bikini top, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. āthese are mine. not his. never his.ā he leaned down, capturing one in his mouth through the fabric, the feeling of his tongue running over you made you gasp.
he wasnāt playing games anymoreāhe was staking his claim loud and clear.
with a sharp tug, he removed your bikini top altogether, exposing your chest to the cool air and his hungry gaze. his hand immediately replaced his mouth, squeezing and massaging your breast possessively. āif he looks at you again, iāll rip his eyes out.ā
he kissed down your body, tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms with his teeth. āand if you ever say anything like that to test me again, iāll make you scream my name so loud the whole house hears you.ā his lips found your inner thigh, trialing slow, torturous kisses.
you gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, your hands tangling instantly in his curls. āis that a threat or a promise?ā you managed to breathe out, arching your hips up towards him. ābecause i think i like making you jealous.ā you looked down at him, biting your lip. āfuck me.ā
michael growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing with dark possessiveness. āoh, iām going to fuck you alright. until you canāt remember your own name, let alone marlonās.ā he ripped the fabric of your bikini bottoms aside, not bothering to untie them properly, his fingers sliding through your wet folds. āwet for me already, baby.ā
he slid two fingers inside you, you gasped as his fingers pushed inside you, āgod yesāā michaelās eyes darkened as he leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers. he ate you out with a desperate, possessive hunger, tongue deep, his hands gripping your thighs like you might try to escape. he wasnāt gentle, but he wasnāt roughāhe was obsessed.
his mouth was relentless, sucking and licking like he wanted to devour you. his fingers joined back in, curling inside you as his tongue circled your clit. āmichaelā¦michaelā¦ā you moaned his name repeatedly, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.
hearing his name fall from your lips like a prayer only made him more possessive. he doubled his efforts, adding another finger and sucking harder on your clit. one hand snaked up to cover your mouth as he muffled your loud moans against his palm since his brothers were still downstairs. āshhā¦quiet, baby.ā
you whimpered against his palm, squirming beneath him as he worked you over mercilessly. his fingers pumped faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. āthatās itā¦take it all.ā he murmured against your thigh, feeling you clench around his fingers. your hips buckled upwards, chasing his mouth.
āi canātāā michael pressed his hand harder against your mouth to silence your broken moans. āyes you can. come for me.ā he curled his fingers just right, sucking harshly on your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge instantly. your body shook violently, your back arching off the bed as you came hard against his mouth. āthatās itā¦ā he praised softly.
michael didnāt stop until your tremors subsided, lapping up every drop of your release before pulling away, his mouth glistening. he kissed his way back up your body, hovering over you as he removed his hand from your mouth. you were breathless, chest heaving, āstill think jealously is a joke?ā
you were panting hard, eyes dazed and lips parted, still catching your breath. your chest rose and fell rapidly as you looked up at him, a lazy, satisfied smile spreading across your face despite the lingering haze of your orgasm.
āmmmā¦proving a point, baby.ā you whispered, reaching up to trace his jaw.
michael caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before moving lower, trailing his lips down your stomach. āpoint proven.ā he looked up at you, eyes dark with hunger again. ānow itās my turn.ā
he stood just long enough to strip off his clothes, revealing his body before lowering himself between your legs.
you watched him, biting your lip as he settled between your thighs. he was hard and thick, the head of his dick pressing against your sensitive entrance. he leaned down to kiss you deeply, swallowing any sounds you might make as he slowly pushed inside. āshhhā¦quiet baby.ā
you gasped into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you completely. he paused, letting you adjust to his size, his forehead pressed against yours. āyou feel so goodā¦ā he groaned, his hips twitching forward. āso tight.ā he started moving slowly, pulling out until only the tip remained before plunging back in deep.
you threw your head back against the pillow, a choked moan escaping your throat as he set a slow, deep rhythm. your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. āmichaelā¦godā¦ā you whimpered, your fingernails scraping down his back. āpleaseā¦faster.ā you arched your hips up to meet his thrust.
hearing you beg and whimper his name snapped something in him. he grabbed your legs, pushing them back to expose your chest and stomach completely, changing the angle to hit that spot inside you that made you cry out loud.
you bit your lip hard, trying to stay quiet as he pounded into you relentlessly. your thighs trembled around him, your eyes rolling back. ācanātācanāt be quietāā you gasped, your back arching off the bed. āfeels too goodāyouāre too deepāā his grip on your thighs tightened. āi know, babyā¦ā
michael leaned down, his moth hovering over yours as he picked up the pace, each thrust making the headboard bang against the wall. he didnāt seem to care if his brothers heard anymore. āyou like this, huh?ā he slammed into you hard, hitting that spot inside you over and over. āyesāfuck yesāā
michael swallowed hard, watching you writhe beneath him. your tits bounced with ever thrust, your face contorted with pleasure. he realised somethingāyou were loud as hell when you had sex. like, really loudāhe covered your mouth with his hand experimentally, muffling your moans.
you moaned against his palm, the vibrations sending shivers through you. your walls tightened around him involuntarily. āmmphāā your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the depth and angle. he removed his hand, replacing it with his mouth, kissing you deeply, swallowing every guttural sound you made.
he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged against your lips as his hips snapped harder into yours. āyou gotta be quieter, mamaā¦ā he groaned out, though his rhythm didnāt slow down. instead, he went deeper, ātheyāre downstairsā¦ā he groaned out. āi knowāim tryingāā
michael suddenly pulled back, his eyes blazing with intense possession. he slipped two fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep as he continued to fuck you. āsuckā¦ā he commanded hoarsely, watching your cheeks hollow around his fingers. ākeep quiet for me.ā
you sucked on his fingers obediently, muffling your moans a little ad he thrusted deeper and faster. tears pricked at your eyes from the intensity, your walls clenching around him relentlessly. āmmphāā you mumbled around his fingers, your hips meeting his in desperate, hungry thrusts. your orgasm crept upon you unexpectedly, your thighs trembling dangerously.
michael watched you closely, noticing the way your eyes squeezed shut and your jaw clenched around his fingers. he knew exactly what was happening. he spread your legs wider, going even deeper inside you, hitting that spot over and over again as he silently commanded you to come apart around him.
the coil in your stomach snapped violently, your back arching off the bed as you came silently. your walls fluttered and clenched tight around him, your scream muffled perfectly by his fingers buried deep in your mouth. your entire body shook violently, your toes curling tight. āthatās itā¦ā he whispered, fucking you through your release.
michael groaned deeply, feeling your orgasm crash around him. he didnt slow down, determined to chase his own release. his hips snapped harder, faster, his fingers still deep in your mouth as he chased your climax. ācome againā¦for meā¦ā he hissed through clenched teeth, his own pleasure building rapidly.
you gasped for air, your mouth sore from sucking hid fingers as he came down hard inside you. his whole body shuddered, groaning your name against your neck as he spilled deep within you. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily, his heart pounding against your chest..
āfuckā¦ā he muttered against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder.
you lay there stunned, your body over sensitive and shaking from the intensity of it all. michaelās fingers were still curled inside your mouth as he recovered on top of you. the only sound throughout the whole house was the muffled conversation from downstairs and their laboured breathing.
michael slowly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, watching as you licked your lips, still feeling the ghost of his fingers on your tongue. he pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth as he felt you squirm underneath him, feeling his come leaking out of you.
he rolled off you gently, pulling you into his arms. your body was a messāhair disheveled, lips swollen, thighs shaking and sticky with sweat and come. he kissed your temple softly. āiām sorryā¦i got carried away.ā
from downstairs, you could hear the faint voices of his brothers. āmike, you coming down?!ā
ātwo minutes!ā he yelled back before getting up and putting on fresh clothes for himself and grabbing you fresh underwear and his oversized tee for you, then getting you a towel. he leans down, softly wiping between your legs, as he comes back up he presses a soft kiss to your lips. āyou okay?ā he asks softly as he begins dressing you.
you nod your head as you stand up on wobbly legs, attempting to fix your messed up hair.
he watched you closely, making sure you were okay before opening the bedroom door. he stepped out the door, then turned back to offer you his hand.
as you both entered the living room, the chatter died down instantly. all five brothers turned to look at the two of youāmichael looking slightly disheveled, your hair messy, lips swollen, and wearing his oversized shirtātheir eyes flicked between the two of you, eyebrows raising.
jackie leaned back on the couch, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.
michael tightened his grip on your hand, pulling you closer to his side. he looked at his brothers calmly, his expression neutral. āwhat?ā he asked simply, challenging their stares. he didnāt look guilty or ashamed.
you and michael sat down on the loveseat, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. the silence stretched for a few seconds before jermaine suddenly cleared his throat, his face breaking into a grin.
āohāoh god, yesā jermaine mimicked, his pitch high and mocking. tito and marlon burst into laughter, echoing the sounds.
jackie joined in, throwing his head back dramatically. āmichaelā¦michaelā¦canātācanāt be quietāā he pitched his voice impossibly high, clutching his chest dramatically. āoh, the humanity!ā
marlon was practically wheezing, slapping his knee. āi thought the ceiling was gonna come down!ā
michael just sat there, letting them mock you both. he didnāt look embarrassed or angryājust amused, trying not to laugh. āyou guys are ridiculous.ā he laughed out.
you blushed deeply, burying your face in michaelās chest as they continued to laugh and tease you. āi do not sound like that!ā you protested weakly, your voice muffled against his shirt. michael just chuckled and kissed your head, enjoying your embarrassment way too much.
marlon wiped tears from his eyes, still giggling. āi was just trying to get him riled up to annoy himā¦ā he grinned sheepishly. āi did not bargain for hearing him put his girlfriend through a mattress!ā everyone burst out laughing again, even you and michael.
synopsis - ever since michaelās new albumābad! reached the top charts, heās been in the eyes of everyoneāagain. which also means you have been watched too. rumors spread and people lieābut one thing in particular really gets to you. the mediaās criticism in your physical appearance. their nitpicking eventually gets to you, and michael has you remind you on how he sees you, perfect.
content/warnings - readers insecure & the media being harsh, smut, softdom!michael, rough love making, fingering, teasing, michael reassuring you, use of pet names, ever so slight breeding kink.
type - oneshot
a/n - iāve been feeling really insecure lately, so this imagine came to my mind. comfort!michael is the cutest thing ever. i hope you enjoy and i love u<33
ā.ą³ąæ* you couldnāt shake the feeling, not even if you could help it. their words cut deepāslandering your name. it was almost ludicrous the way you had to deal with their hatefulness.
every time a new article came out, you and michael were on the front cover. well, more like you were on the front cover, with a new headline stating yet another false narrative about you.
at first, when the press started reporting on you, reassuring thoughts crowded your mind;
āitās just because they want a storyā
āwellāyour boyfriend is famous, thatās whyā
or
ādonāt worryātheyāll stop soon enough. itās just because you are now in the spotlight for them to seeā
though it was calming at first, none of it was true. they hadnāt stopped, for one second.
their rude comments, how you arenāt enough for michael, a horrible girlfriend, and worst of all, the commentary towards your physical being.
and the truth was, everything was soāabsolutely false.
you are the most wonderful girlfriend to michael, and he knows it. from the moment he met you, he knew youād be the one. the one for him. the one to stick by his side during his trials, and tribulations. the one to love him through the thick and thināand heād do the same for you a hundred times over.
michael knew of the vilifying comments towards you, and it killed him every time a knew paper arrived at the house.
he wants to protect you, from everything. from every bad thought, worry, or comment. however, there are just some things that are out of his control. like, the medias false reports on his girl.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
standing at the mirror before you, your mind clouded with doubt. holding the latest article, half scrunched up in your hand, you canāt help but avoid eye contact with your vulnerable reflection.
you hated this. you hated feeling like this. you hated every word they false wrote on your name.
youāve been good about not reading the tabloids recently, not wanting them to disrupt your ever so peaceful lifeāit wasnāt until a close friend of yours called you, in regards to the latest news.
she had told you that you may want to look at the article, knowingly that you donāt read them for this exact reason.
it had to have been the worst one. the worst āreportā youāve seen thus far.
it was an āoff guardā picture of you, when you were sick and heading to the doctors. you were rushing to the car, crowded by security. though, the paparazzi still got glimpses of your sick appearance.
there was absolutely nothing wrong with you in these pictures, it was the follow up comments that had a lot to say.
placing the crumpled up paper down on your vanity, you finally looked at yourself in the mirror.
you couldnāt believe this was your reality. and you hadnāt done anything wrong, either.
the news wasnāt always bad, though it seemed like it more times than not.
youāve been nominated for awards for your noticeable beauty, and for your acts of service alongside michael.
fans saw your humanity, your benevolence, they saw the true you.
your compassion wasnāt enough to make the stories stop, though.
at times, like this one, you have often felt defeated. āwhat more could they write, how much can they lie?ā you wondered to yourself.
suddenly, you heard a door softly open.
it was late at night, later than you expected to still be up, and around the same time michaelās recording sessions ended.
michael peaks through the door, theorizing youād be asleep like always when he comes home late. however, he finds you awake, in your nightgown gazing at the vanity mirror.
āhi, angel. whyāre you still awake? are you feeling alright?ā he asks, his voice soft spoken and calm.
you smile at the sight of him, dressed in a cotton button up paired with his slacks as usual, his hair in its natural ringlets that paint down his neck and shoulders, loose strands of it handing down from his forehead onto his face.
āiāyeah i was just headed to bed, actually,ā you say to him, quickly removing yourself from your spot at the vanity to your bed.
michael could sense something was wrong, or maybe it was the exhaustion from working all day giving him false anxiety.
he walks over to the mirror attached to the vanity, watching you closely in the reflection behind him as he begins to remove his worked-out clothes.
thatās when his gaze catches something laying infront of him. a tabloid, crinkled up that looked like the same patterns of a wave from the sea, sat on the vanity table.
a wave of reality hits him as he unwrinkled the paper to see whatās hidden below. he analyses the picture, and the words that crowd it.
he shakes his head at the paper, now looking back up at you through the mirror.
you tried to pretend you didnāt see him read it, afraid his comforting demeanor would send emotions plummeting out of you.
instead, he calls you over to him, āangel, would you come here, please?ā
his half-demand snaps you back into reality, in which you suddenly rise back to your feet and slowly walk over to him.
he turns around to meet your saddened eyes, and his filled with that of anger.
he wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you into his side, āmā sorry baby. none of this is true anā you know that, right?ā he asks you, brushing hair out of your eyes with his free hand.
you turn your head to the side, looking away from him, ānoāi know itās justāitās hard to think otherwise when all they write about is how im not good enough, or that im not a good girlfriend or that iāā
he quickly cuts you off, āyouāre none of those things, angel. youāre so perfect andālook at me babyāā he tells you, as he turns your head back with his finger under your chin to look him in his eyes.
āi need you to see how perfect you are. forget about what they write about you. they jusā want a story, somethinā to write aboutāhm?ā he whispers, gently grazing your face with the gentle side of his finger.
āitās jusā hard to believe that michael. maybe im not good enoughāi just donāt know,ā you stare up into his eyes, now dropping their angry tone and shifting to one that you couldnāt quite make out yet.
he kisses the top of your head, then your cheek, moving down to the softness of your lips that his own hover over, not yet connecting them.
āwellācan i show you how perfect you are then?ā he says, in an empathetic, and almost desperate tone.
āiāmichael,ā heat rises from your toes, branching all the way up to the tops of your cheeks.
ālet me show my girl how perfect she is, yeah?ā he says, not quite asking you, but telling you.
his hands make their way down from your face to set atop of your waist, āface the mirror fāme, baby,ā he almost groans in his own words.
you turn around to face the mirror, with the help of his hands own directional force.
he stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, looking at your through the reflection of your vanityās mirror.
he groans at the sight of you, wearing the nightgown that drives him crazyāone strap hugging your elbow as it fell free from your shoulder.
he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent whist remaining eye contact with you in the mirror.
āmmālook at you baby. look at how gorgeous you are,ā he mumbles in your neck, placing kisses slowly down it.
āso fuckinā perfect. all mine,ā his hands squeeze your hips while heās still kissing you, now traveling down to your shoulder.
āmichaelāplease,ā you beg him desperately, unable to withstand the slowness in which he is moving.
āplease what, baby? what does my girl need?ā he says, looking at your hungry face in the mirrorāmind clouded with lust and love.
āneed youāneed you so bad,ā your eyebrows strain against your forehead, needing a sense of relief.
āyeah? mā gonna take my time with you, baby. gonna show you how much you mean tāme nā how perfect you are.ā
you begin to turn around to face him, but he has other plans.
ām-m, youāre gonna stay right here and look at your pretty face while i make you feel good.ā
his hands, keeping you steady right infront of him, facing the mirror.
āi need you michael, please,ā you say impatiently, wanting nothing more than to forget the bad thoughts shadowing your mind.
at the sound of your beg, he trails his hand slowly up your nightgown, tugging at the only strand keeping it up, and letting it fall down.
your nightgown falls down, marking its place on the floor.
you stand, now exposed, infront of michael, nervously hiding your face in your hands at the sight of yourself. both of his hands come to remove them from your face.
he moves your hands from your face down to your sides, letting you look back at yourself in the reflection.
āso fuckinā perfectāgonna make you feel so good precious,ā he tells you, as his eyes trail down your body.
his hands roam all over you, moving up from your hips to cup your breasts in his hand, he rolls your nipples between his fingers, causing immense pleasure to coat your body.
you arch your back against his chest at the feeling of him, resting the back of your head on his shoulder.
āyeahāfeel good mama? see theseāā he motions to your boobs, āthese are so fucking perfect, baby. love emā so much.ā
āmikeyāfuckāplease,ā you begin to feel more flustered beneath him.
he smirks to himself at your desperation, and his fingers descend from your chest down to the waistband of your panties
he toys with the fabric for a quick second, before hooking two fingers under your panties and slowly pulling them down your thighs, planting them next to your nightgown.
you are now completely bare infront of him, looking at him behind you in the mirror.
āmmāyouāre so pretty, baby. makinā me loose my mind, ma,ā he says, and almost groans at the sight of you.
his fingers slowly trail up your thighs and hover over clit, before slowly pressing the two down on it, moving them in a circle.
your eyes shut at the feeling and a moan escapes your lips.
michael sees your eyes clamped together in the mirror, and he rejects his hand away from you, leaving you without pleasure.
āi need you to open your eyes, look at yourself, baby. look at how perfect your face is and how pretty your moans sound. need you to look, angel.ā
you obey him once more, opening your eyes and not drifting them away for a second.
his hand comes back down to its spot on you, tracing circles once more.
you watch in the mirror how his hand moves against you, so soft, yet so needy at the same time. his fingers move so swift against you like silk guiding through his hands.
his fingers drag from your clit to your demanding hole, briefly teasing it before slipping inside of you.
you moan out at the feeling of his fingers inside you, moving in and out erupting pleasure against your walls.
your eyes donāt move though, watching him in the reflection pleasuring you like heās done many times before.
ālove this pussy, baby. always squeezinā me so good. canāt wait to feel her around my cock, hm?ā
you can feel yourself dripping at his dirty words, and the feeling of his fingers moving faster against you.
āneed it babyāneed your cock sā bad, please baby,ā you manage to mutter out to him.
but michael seems to need it just as bad as you do, because at the sound of your plea he removes his fingers from you to remove his slacks and boxers, now bare behind you.
his cock slaps his stomach when released, thick and deprivedāleaking at the tip.
he takes himself in his hand to pump himself a few times, before coming closer to you, pressing your bodies up against each other.
he moves one hand up your back, pressing down softly on it so that you are bent over on the vanity.
you let out a gasp at the feeling, catching yourself on your elbows, now bent over on the table.
ālook so pretty like this, angel. all bent over fāme. you look so perfect,ā he groans underneath his words.
he teases you, rubbing his tip through your folds, emitting a whine from you.
you arch your back into him, trying to signal what you wanted most.
he stops his teasing, dragging his cock from your clit all the way to your demanding hole, and slowly pushing into you.
a scream erupts from your throat at the feeling of him slowly pushing inside of youāand he reciprocates, groans and whines flowing from his mouth.
he pushes in steadily, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you so good.
he finally pushes all the way through, feeling you clench down on him. your cunt brushes up against his pubic hair, and the feeling of him fully inside of you makes your legs shake beneath you.
he stays like this for awhile, just holding you in place against him; not moving.
you donāt take your eyes off of him in the mirror, but against his wishes itās hard to keep them fully open.
ās-so fuckinā tight fāme. fuck, mama. youāre so fuckinā perfect,ā he groans, both of his hands gripping your hips as if he needed something to hold him up.
you quietly moan back in response to him, before loudly whining at the feeling of him as he suddenly starts moving at a fast pace.
you almost collapse on your elbows that are holding you up, becoming so sensitive to the feeling of him pounding into your from behind.
michael is a mess behind youābeads of sweat dripping down from his curls, and his lip red from biting down on it so hard.
he moves a hand from your hips down to your aching core, needing to feel a release.
āmikeyābabyāmā gonna cumāmichael ohāā you moan out to him, feeling the coil heating up in your lower belly.
āy-yeah? gonna cum fāme, angel? be a good girl and cum fāmeāi know you can,ā he whispers, groaning and whimpering between each word he mutters out.
at the sound of his filthy praise, you begin to feel yourself come undone around him, the coil reaching 2000 watts, and bursting inside of you. a wave of pleasure crashes over youāhard.
you are melted in a puddle of your own pleasure, not being able to control any noises that you let out.
āmmhāgood girlāsuch a good girl. fuckāgonna cum babyāgonna fill this pretty pussy up so goodāā he says in between pants.
his harsh thrusts slowly come to a halt, letting out the dirtiest whimper you ever heard, and feeling warm shots of his seed coating your sensitive walls.
he remains in his position behind you, the two of you completely fucked out.
he comes down to your level, bending over atop of you, and giving you kisses on your temple and cheek.
ādid sāgood for me, ma. youāre the best girl. love you so much, angel,ā he mumbles into your hair, while pressing sweet, slow kisses onto you.
you hum at his sweet words, not being able to respond fully since you are still so worked up.
michael rises to his feet once more, and pulls you up with him.
he picks you up in his arms, and carries you to the bathroom to get the both of you cleaned up.
he whispers nothing but sweet praises in your ear all night, reminding you that no matter what the press writes, youāre always going to be his best girl.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
a/n - i lowkey canāt tell if i hate this butttt oh welll lol. also, when i was writing this i was making my taglist and half of my story randomly deleted so i had to rewrite it!!! so im sorry if anything was written badly, because thatās why. anyways if you made it to the end, thank you and ilysm<33
"A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life"
Destiny has a cruel way of making us come to reality, and leaving us without you is that hurtful reality. It pains me, but I know you're at peace now, the one that you deserved for so long, the one that was taken away from you since you were a child. We try to make your legacy a beautiful thing, even when others try to take it down; your memory lives in our minds and hearts. You make the sky sparkle, and now I celebrate you. I love you, applehead.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
june 25th, 2009, our angel was taken from us. michaelās life was selfishly ripped from him. michael was a hardworking, selfless, kind, and compassionate soul. he healed the world, in so many waysāalways thinking of new ways to advocate for world peace. he was known by so many people, not only as a superstar, but also the empathetic, and gentle person he was. 17 years feels too long. 17 years without his smile and his gratitude. this day is a day of honor, and a day of respect. michael, you are so loved and will continue to be loved for generations moving forward. i hope you are in the happiest place, angel. we love you.
synopsis - you and michael decided to start your family shortly after getting married. the two of you wanted nothing more than to create life of your own, reminders of how much the two of you love each other every time you look into the eyes of your children. and now here you two are, preparing to celebrate the first year you brought your sweet daughter into this world.
content/warnings - fluff, & some suggestive content at the end.
type - oneshot
a/n - michael with kids is the cutest thing iāve ever seeeen i love this man so much!! hope you enjoy and i love u<33
masterlist
ā ā” Ė.ā the room was decorated to perfection. the quintessentialsātables with food, fun games and music, the most exquisite venue you had booked, and balloons that covered the room like a sea of bright colors. all of the decorations corresponded with your daughters favorite things in the world. you took a step back, stunned by the finished party room.
you were determined since the birth of your daughter to give her the world. naturally, you werenāt going to raise your daughter to be a spoiled girl; you were going to teacher her everything that needs to be taught, and not just hand her things unwisely. but, you couldnāt help yourself throwing yourānow one year old, the most extravagant birthday party.
this was a celebration of your daughter, the best baby you could have asked for. but, it was also a pat on the back for both you and michael, for getting through the first year of parenthood.
michael was the best father, and the best husband. he was always there in times of need, going above and beyond. children always were held so dear to his heart, finding new ways to help and save children in tough situations. if michael could afford to help someone, he would, and he does just that.
you were so thankful for michaelās presence during the first steps in becoming parents, because without him, you were doubtful youād do the best job.
soon after the birth of your babygirl, your mind kept spiraling from the affect of your changing body. some ordeals can get very challenging after birth because nothing is really ever the same. you become responsible, your body changes, and so do some relationships.
however, the dynamic between you and michael never changed, it transformed into a deeper bond you werenāt ever aware could be accomplished. having your baby strengthened your relationship immensely. and now the festivity of your daughters first birthday is a reminder of all of it, of everything you and michael had attained.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
now that the party was in order, it gave you time to rush home and start getting you and your daughter ready. it was currently 12:00 P.M., and the party starts at 3:00 P.M., and goes until 5:00 P.M.
while michael watched the baby, that gave you time to shower, and get changed for the party.
you quickly took a shower, did your hair and makeup, and put on the sweetest sundress michael had bought you not too long ago. the dress fit your body perfectly, highlighting your best features, while also considering the appropriateness of the event.
as you get one last good look at yourself in the mirror before you start getting your daughter ready, your hand runs over the flat of your stomach. you do miss being pregnant, carrying a childāyour and michaelās precious child in your stomach. you shake away the thought though, wondering if itās too soon to start trying again.
regardless of your intrusive thoughts, you are here now, commemorating the anniversary of your daughters delivery.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
you walk downstairs into the kitchen where you see michael, cradling the peaceful baby in his arms, feeding her.
you smile at the sight, leaning against the doorway. michael doesnāt notice your presence right away, so right now, you are just appreciating the view infront of you.
michael swiftly spins around, now acknowledging you, and gives you a warm smile. you make your way over to him, leaning against his arm, placing your head on his shoulder while the two of you stare down at your daughter. you know that heās exactly where he wants to be right now. feeding the most precious gift anyone had ever given him, while his other most precious gift lays gently on his shoulder.
you break your gaze at your daughter to lean up and give michael a kiss on the cheek, a thank you for watching her while you got ready, and also for being the best dad in the world.
āi can take this from here, baby. iāll get her ready while you get a nice shower and get ready. thank you for letting me take all the time i need to get myself ready,ā you whisper to michael.
āof course, angel. and plus, i wouldnāt deny spending time with my babygirl,ā he says, carefully placing your daughter in your hands, quickly kissing your lips before heading upstairs to get ready.
you feel heat rising to your cheeks, like a schoolgirl seeing her crush from down the hall. the feeling could never get old with michaelāeverytime you saw him it always felt like the first. you couldnāt help but get butterflies at not only the sight of him, but the sight of him with your daughter.
following michaelās footsteps up the stairs aswell, you begin getting your daughter ready.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
putting her in the cutest piece you saw at the store the other day. she was finally ready and looking like the most beautiful thing youāve ever seen.
michael enters the room, seeing both of his girls dressed and ready.
he comes over and places a kiss on the top of your head, āshe looks perfect baby, and you look absolutely beautiful. prettiest mama iāve ever seen.ā
you hum and lean into his chest, rocking your baby back and forth in your arms.
you take in his appearance too, checking him out in the mirror before you.
heās dressed so niceāslacks draped against his legs, and a blue button up to go with it.
āwell, you look so handsome yourself, michael.ā you tell him, making eye contact with him in the mirror.
he leans down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, as you begin to hear your baby giggling and kicking her feet in your arms.
you laugh back, smiling down at her, āi think she can feel her mommy and daddyās love,ā you chuckle out.
michael presses another quick kiss to your head in agreement, before looking down at his watch to check the time.
āitās 2:15, angel. wanna start heading out soon?ā michael asks you.
āohāperfect yes, thatāll give us enough time to do any last finishing touches.ā
you give michael one last kiss on his cheek, before handing your daughter to him.
you grab all of your bags needed for your baby, and the two of you head out of the door.
bill is waiting for the two of you, leaning against the car when he opens the door for the both of you.
packed all into the car and ready, the time reads 2:23 P.M., as you start heading to the venue, both smiling at yourselves in excitement to see all of your friends and family in attendance for your daughter.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
the evening was nothing but filled with smiles and laughter, as the venue loads up with all sides of both families, and friends in between.
gifts for your daughter sprawled out on the table, toys piled over as more people started to show up.
it was the best afternoon you could have expected. spending time with both michaels family, and your ownāyour daughter walking around to greet everyone with your hand guiding her through her unbalanced steps.
eventually, near 5:12 P.M. the once noise filled venue was now completely empty, leaving you and michael alone with your sleep daughter in hand.
the two of you make your way home, and your daughter snores deeply into her fathers chest, exhausted from the events earlier that day.
as you arrive home, michael hands your daughter into your hands, so you can start getting the two of you ready for bed.
you get her changed into her pajamas, and put her down to sleep for the night.
exhausted yourself, you enter you and michaelās room, to start getting unready.
heās already in the room, coming out of your walk-in closet, unbuttoning his shirt.
ācāmere, mama.ā he says, shifting his hands from his half unbuttoned shirt to motion for you to come join him.
you smile and slowly walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
āyou put her to bed?ā he asks, snaking his arms around your waist.
you nod, not wasting a second and crashing your lips onto his.
his grip gets tighter around your waist, attempting to pull you impossibly closer than you already are.
the kiss is deep, needy. the two of you only get time alone at night time, and sometimes that time gets interrupted by an unwanted event.
he breaks the kiss from your lips, trailing down to your jaw, and neck.
you whimper from the feeling of his kisses peppering over the sensitivity of your skin.
āmichaelāā you mutter out to him, before quickly being cut off by the sound of his own groans under his breath.
āyā make such a good mama, angel. love seeinā you with her, baby. makes my heart feel sā warm.ā he mumbles against the softness of your skin.
āyou make such a good dad, michael. always there for her and i. love you so much, baby,ā he whimpers against your skin at that.
āwannaāwanna have another.ā he tells you, breaking contact with your neck to look into your eyes.
he stands tall infront of you. he moves one arm around to wrap around your waist, while another caresses your cheek.
āyou wanna try for another baby, mikey?ā you sigh into his touch, waiting for him to repeat his plea.
āmmāso bad. wanna see you carryinā our baby again. wanna have as many as we can.ā
you bite your lip at him, turned into a smile.
āi want that too.ā you are now inches away from his lips again.
he smiles at your approval, before lifting you up in his arms, releasing a high pitched laugh from your throat as he throws you on top of the bed, climbing onto you.
the way you make me feel | thrad ! m. jackson x reader
summary: you wake up one night to find your boyfriend missing from bed, only to find him working diligently to get down the right lyrics for his upcoming album.
warnings: not fully proofread, established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, and just you being affectionate with michael.
author's note: yeah, so, expect fics every few weeks :/ i can't bring myself to fully lock-in consistently unless its midnight.
āMichael, honey, please come to bed.ā
Michael sat writing at his dimly lit desk, quietly humming along to a melody that heād conjured up in his head. Heād been there for quite some time now, the sheets beside you being significantly colder without his warmth.
You sighed, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, bare feet touching the rug. It had only taken you a few steps to get to him, the satin fabric of your robe flowing elegantly behind you.
āOh, myĀ brilliantĀ boyfriend,ā you cooed quietly, lightly wrapping your arms around him from behind. His body tensed up for a moment before easing into your touches, one arm moving from the notebook to lightly caress your thigh with his thumb. āDoes sleep not exist in your world?ā You joked.
āIām sorry for waking you, baby,ā he apologized, finally peeling his eyes away from the notebook to look up at you, his doe eyes filled with both warmth and exhaustion. āI just... I canāt seem to get something right," he mutters, his brows furrowing in frustration. āLike, something isĀ missing.ā
You sighed again, gently running your fingers through his curls. Michael inhaled at this, closing his eyes to take in the scent of your lavender lotion.
āMikey, you wonāt be able to figureĀ anythingĀ out if youāre passed out at your desk.ā
āBaby, you donāt understand,ā he says, removing his hand away from your thigh and back onto the notebook. āI have to get it right; otherwise God willā"
āGive it to Prince?ā You laughed, cutting him off.
Rather than responding, he huffs out a laugh as well, gently pulling you onto his lap. You giggled at this, peppering kisses onto his neck. Michaelās hand made its way back to your thigh, his thumb caressing it in tiny circles.
āIs it okay if I read what youāve had so far?ā You ask, gesturing towards the open notebook on the desk. Michael nods. Which is rare for him; heād rarely let anybody read his work until it was complete perfection.
Michaelās eyes followed as you slightly readjusted your position on his lap, picking up the notebook to properly read its pages. Your eyes trailed along the sheet, taking note of scribbled-out words and slight creases in the paper. Your eyes eventually settled on lyrics that had yet been completely discarded.
Hey, pretty baby with the high heels on
You give me fever like I've never ever known
You're just a product of loveliness
I like the groove of your walk, your talk, your dress
I feel your fever from miles around
I'll pick you up in my car and we'll paint the town
Just kiss me, baby, and tell me twice
That you're the one for me
āMichael, this isĀ reallyĀ good,ā you say, turning to him in genuine confusion. You gently grabbed his jaw, turning his head to look at you. āHow could you not like this?ā
Michael shrugs, taking the notebook from you to go over what he had written, but not before you took it from him again, gently placing it back on the desk. You found yourself pressing kisses onto his lower jaw, eliciting a soft smile from him.
āBaby, cāmon, youāve been working for hours,ā you murmur, your fingers running through his soft curls once more. āPlease, come to bed. If not, at least step away for a moment.ā
Michael sighed, accepting defeat. Finally, he shut his notebook, now giving you his full undivided attention, his hands now finding themselves wrapped around your waist.
āDo you think people would like it?ā
Your heart swelled at the question. Anyone with eyes and ears could tell you how truly talented Michael was. Even with years of countless accolades and recognition, Michael had never once let the fame get to his headāsomething you always adored about him. At the same time, you also knew where he was coming from; after all, it had been 3 years since he released Thriller, and the hype had only just now begun to cease.
āOf course they would,ā you say earnestly, placing your hand on his cheek. Michael gently took your wrist, placing a quick but affectionate kiss on it; your smile couldnāt help but get wider.
Michael closed his eyes, burying his head in your chest. You found yourself running your fingers through his hair again, placing kisses on the top of his head.
āYāknow that I love you, right, girl?ā He mutters against you, his voice coming out muffled. You found yourself smiling at the nickname.
āI love you too,ā you say finally, getting up from his lap. You held out your hand for him to accept it, wanting him to finally get some rest. āNow, can youĀ pleaseĀ get some rest?ā you ask softly.
Michael couldnāt help but smile at your relentlessness. He gently accepted your hand, finally allowing you to lead him towards the sheets of your shared bed.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
šš ā thriller!michael and you enjoy doing sleepovers, really you enjoy him spending time in your room as you bombard him with skin care routine because you find it entertaining. michael indulges in your fun, letting you cover his face with a homemade clay formula your mom taught you. his many attempts to kiss you only end up in a closed mouth, laughing fit with you. you usually had your radio on low, playing whatever tape was left in from before. it was relaxing to spend time together.
itās no secret that the two of you enjoy making late-night snacks and eating them in your room as you gossip to him. youāve found comfort in these peaceful moments with him, no media bothering your sweet man and michael being fully relaxed and safe in your presence.
whenever michael comes over to your place for a sleepover he gifts you with your favorite bouquet, every time, even when your other flowers havenāt gone old yet, his excuse: āiāll add more and we can turn it into a garden.ā with the biggest smile on his face, which earns him a big kiss on his cheek and you calling him a dork after.
you love all the letters michael gives you, his heart and body jittery for a kiss and a compliment and you give him just that. youāre obsessed with him and heās even more obsessed with you. these little cute sleepovers you have with him are the few reminders of that, plus the date nights where you get dolled up and he gets to show you off to the world.
synopsis - dating mature!michael has many perks; his riches, kinda and passionate soul, and how he makes you come undone in his fingertips. the media has much to say about your relationship, that you use him for his money, and your youthfulness in comparison to michael. there hurtful words ring in your head constantly, though michael always knows how to put those thoughts to rest.
content/warnings - the press being rude towards you, smut with plot, est. age gap (not big but noticeable), pussy eating, multiple orgasm (orgasm denial), unprotected p in v, praising kink, michael wants you to feel loved and appreciated!!, soft dom michael, breeding kink if u squint.
type - oneshot (fluff/smut)
a/n - i was listening to million dollar man by lana, which inspired this fic.
also happy juneteenth!! i love all of you beautiful people<33
masterlist
āāĖ.ā your life with michael was something of luxurious, some may say. of course, he spoils you to know end, with riches that span from the dainty necklace that wraps around your neck, to the grand staircase that highlights the beautiful home the two of you share together.
his wealth was there, but in more ways in one. he was never one to flaunt his money, but rather use it in humanitarian ways. he helps people. so many people. it was one of the things that first drew you to him. the constant need to help humanity, and use his power for the greater good.
michaels riches not only cover things of material, or for worldly reasons, but they shower you in constant affection and love. he deposits his love onto you, with no sight of an end. and you love it.
michael is, the wealthiest man in the world. maybe not exactly on paper, but he sure is the most successful, and with his beautiful girl by his side, he always feels on top of the world.
but alas, being the most famous man in the world does come with itās consequences. more towards you, if anything.
the headlines are ruthless.
āmichaelās spoiled bratā
āsheās draining him of his moneyā
āis she really with him for the right reason, or just for his money?ā
they go on even from there. they seem never-ending.
but the truth wasāyes, you owned very nice things michael has bought you over the course of your relationship, but you arenāt using him for his money. you arenāt spending, more like appreciating. appreciating the lavish life the both of you lead together. wearing your gifts with pride, not in a boastful way.
you wished the outside world knew that too. you wished the headlines stopped dragging your name in the dirt, trying to destroy the amazing relationship you have with michael. but again, it seems to lack the light at the end, showing a conclusion. it never ends.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
faint voices on the radio play in the background as you make your way to the store to grab a few things. michael would be furious if he found out you were driving yourself around in public, especially without an escort. but your mind was filled with other things, and part of you wished someone sees you out in public going about your business alone without a chaperone, so it appears you can get things done yourself.
you arrive at the store, shades on as you make your way to the entrance of the store. you are dressed in low heals, paired with your favorite low-rise jeans, and a low cut top. this was your best attempt at looking as plain as possible, even though most of your attire was of luxury anyway.
you grab what you need to, and head towards the registers. you greet the nice cashier, who obviously recognizes you, but is too nervous to say anything.
and thatās when your eyes, shadowed by the frames resting on the bride of your nose, saw the newest headline, resting upon the nearest shelf:
āspoiled princess of hollywoodā
āi wonder how michael puts up with all her spendingā ā___ā writesāā
the hateful words are over an out of context picture of you, carrying shopping bags in your hands walking down the street.
your cheeks flush at the sight of the article, did the press really hate you that much? or were they just jealous.
regardless of their personal opinions of you, they are still continuing writing abominable words about you.
you made sure to let the cashier keep the hefty change, so maybe one person outside of your personal bubble will see you for more than a materialistic spender, as the press likes to name you.
you quickly grab your bags and dash out of there, almost like someone was chasing you. but it was your nerves and the embarrassment you feel clouding your memory.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
the drive home was everything but enjoyable. not being able to think about anything else, accept for the cruelty towards you.
fighting back tears, you enter your home, and set your bags down on the counter.
you avoided taking off your shades, wanting to shelter your emotions that were threatening to escape, as the minutes went by.
michael walked into the kitchen where you were found, storing your newly bought items on the shelf, and came up to greet you homeā
āhi doll, how was your trip to the store?ā michael asks, as he wraps his arms around you from behind, and buries his head in your shoulder relishing in your smell.
you donāt answer him, and barely even try to acknowledge him as you were on the verge of a breakdown.
michael notices your sudden coldness, and unwraps his arms around to try and make you turn to look at him.
ābaby? whatās wrong angelface did something happen?ā his tone now worried, as he successfully makes you turn to face him. you still avoid eye contact, your bottom lip starts to quiver.
he gently takes his hands up to remove your glasses from your face, noting the tears painting your bottom lids, trying to push there way through.
ābabyāā heās cut off by you giving out and crashing into his chest. beginning to sob into his arms.
āthere just so mean michael. so mean to me. every article, every paper, degrading the life out of meāi donāt know what to do iāā
he cuts you off, āshhāitās okay sugar. everythingās okay. journalists are bashful with their words all the time. always trying to come up with a whole bunch of stories to keep people on edge and buying. hellāyou know how many times they drag my name in the dirt? plenty.ā
he continues, calming you down, ātheir words mean nothing, absolutely nothing. you are an incredible and strong womanāand no words can ever change the brightness you radiate throughout. you are so kind, and so beautiful. i assure you that once they get their hands on a new story, something else to write about, they will totally forget about this.ā
his fingers run through your hair, an arm tucked tightly around you as he kisses the top of your head, āiām sorry you have to see it though, baby. iām sorry you have to put up with them. if i could have all the controversy land on me, i would. you donāt deserve anything like this.ā
āmichaelāā his name raspy in your broken voice, looking up from his chest to look into his big dark eyes.
āshhādonāt try and talk, ma. just let it all out. how about we go upstairs and talk about it sāmore, yeah?ā he says, staring back at you, before picking you up in his arms gently and carrying you up to your room.
Ė Żš„ ŻĖ
setting you down on the bed, he fetches more comfortable clothes for you to change into out of your big walk-in closet.
he sets down the clothes next to you, and places himself in between your legs on the bed to wipe the salty tears that still lay on your flushed cheeks.
āi love you, baby. nā youāre so strong, yāknow that?ā he speaks in a soft voice, words sweetly reassuring you.
āthank yā baby. itās jusā so hard reading what they write. i feel like i see it so much itās almost true.ā you put your head down, rubbing your red eyes with a fist.
he tsks away that thought, not wanting you to ever believe their sick words are true about you.
still standing between your legs, his hand comes up and cups your face, making you stare back into his eyes.
āit sounds like my angel needs some distraction, hm?ā
his tone now completely shifted, from soft to firm, still gentle, but deeper.
you knew what he was inferring, and you knew too that you needed a deviation away from the negativity.
he notices the shine glossing your eye, and the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks, different from before, this time with a feeling that makes your body tense up in need.
he hums in satisfaction, ālay back for me, princess,ā he lightly demands as you lay on your back, obeying his wish.
he shifts you so your head is laying back, propped on pillows, comfortably.
he climbs atop of you, holding himself up on his two arms.
one arm comes up to grace your face, the other still holding himself up as he peppers kisses all over your face.
āmā gonna make you forget their filthy words, baby. gonna make you forget all about it.ā he whispers, connecting your lips without wasting a second.
your arms come up to hold his face while you make out, getting more and more heated.
he disconnects your lips and stares into your eyes, not wanting to break eye contact as his hand comes down to undo your jeans.
āmā gonna make you feel sā good mama, sā good. youāre only gonna be thinkinā boutā me tonight.ā he says, pulling your pants down in one go, revealing your glistening wet spot growing in your panties.
you whimper under his touch, needing to forget and push all the bad thoughts away. you are in desperate need of his touch.
āpleaseāplease baby need you sā bad.ā you bed him, shifting under him impatiently.
he doesnāt waste a moment pulling your panties down your legs, then moving them so they rest on his shoulders, making direct contact with your pussy.
you bite your lip at the sight of your sweet man in between your legs, the view alone can get you off.
he looks at you the whole time, without fail, as his tongue presses against your aching hole, making circles around it.
your back arches off the bed and you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure, a moan ripping from your throat at the contact.
he removes his face from you in displeasure, ākeep your eyes on me, baby. donāt think about them, look at me. look at me while i make you feel good and forget all about them.ā
you open your eyes in command, looking back into his lust-covered ones. his eyes reveal his intentions. to make you feel so euphoric, you never remember the negativity again.
he continues where he left off, licking and sucking all over the spots that needed attention so bad.
the two of you stare at each other while he works, making you a whimpering and moaning mess for him.
he smiles against you, knowing his plan is working, because truthfully you couldnāt think of anything else accept for the immense pleasure between your legs, and the handsome man giving it to you so good.
āmmhāmichael fuckāfeels sā good. too goodāfuckā you mutter out, his tongue working magic and fogging up your brain.
adrenaline running through michaelās blood, making him not being able to stop even if he wanted to, making you feel like you were on another planet.
āgonna-gonna cum babyāgonna cum for youāā you moan, fighting off the urge to close your eyes and throw your head back, not wanting the pleasure to stop.
ācum for me darling, cum for me all over my mouth, yā taste so sweet angel, love it so much.ā
that sent you over the edge, screaming as you come down from your high, michaelās still in between your legs, sucking up every last drop of you on his tongue.
āyā so good fā me baby. so good. yā gonna be a good girl fāme and give me one more?ā he says, his grip on your thighs stays tight as he waits for your response.
you are so overwhelmed by your previous release, you canāt even imagine another.
but without warning, or wanting to wait any longer, michael sends his tongue deep inside your hole, then quickly removing it to replace it with his finger.
you are already fucked out under him, becoming a blabbing mess, as his finger works in and out of you, his mouth sucking on your swollen clit.
āmmāgonnaāgonna cum againāmichaelāā
your second orgasm crashes over you, tears streaming down the sides of your face in overstimulation, whimpering above him.
āgood girl baby, youāre such a good girl fāme, look at that babyāforgot all boutā them didnāt you?ā he whispers to you, as he climbs back on top of you, disposing of his own pants now, taking himself in his fist, pumping it a few times.
āgonna fuck a third one outta you babyālove seeinā my angel get all worked up over me. so pretty baby, youāre my good girl.ā he says, as he rubs himself down your white coated slit.
his tip nudes your hole, as he pushes in, your tight walls pulling around him like a sleeve, that feeling that has your crying out for him.
he pushes fully into you, balls hitting your ass, groans at the tightness around his cock.
āsā fuckinā tight baby, makinā me feel so good, such a sweet thing baby, gonna make you forget, angel.ā
michael begins thrusting his hips into you, as you grab onto his arm, squeezing it in your small hand, feeling him making love to you.
his hand rubs circles in your hair, in a comforting way, lips coming up to kiss the crown of your head.
āmā gonna cum again michaelāfeels too goodā i need more baby please, please.ā
at that he speeds up, and his hand that was holding your head comes down to run circles on your needy clit, building up your pleasure.
ācum fāme angel, one more i know yā can do it baby. my best girl, love you so much baby.ā
his sweet and sensual words allow you to release all over his throbbing cock thatās stuffing you so full.
your white streams of ecstasy run down his cock, as he continues to rut into you from above.
you are completely fucked out at this point, michael making you cum three times for him, and heās still inside you making you feel good.
āgood job baby, did such a good job fāme. fuckāgonna fill this pussy up baby. such a sweet thing. the sweetest thingāfuckāā
he mumbles out, his thrusts come to a halt, as his hot liquid coats your sensitive walls, filling you up like he swore.
his pulls out of you and lays next to you, pulling you tightly into his chest and lays a soft, loving kiss on you.
the both of you panting, out breath, share an intimate moment together. one of love, and nothing else mattered to their of you in this moment.
āthank you babyāmade me feel so much better,ā you tell him, tucked into his chest feeling his chest rise and fall with speed.
āmmālove you so much baby, always nā forever. forget those people who write things about you. their words mean nothing when you are everything, doll. mā always gonna be by your side.ā he softly tells you, hand pushing hair that messily sticks to your sweaty face.
āhow about i run a bath for you, yeah? wash you nā take good care of you. how does that sound?ā
you nod your head as he gets up and runs to the bathroom to start your bath, shortly returning back to pick you up and take care of you for the rest of the night.
you knew that no matter what was said about you, michael was always going to be there by your side, and vise versa. nothing matters more to you than the supportive, sweet man who takes care of you like no other.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
pairing: mature era mj x established girlfriend! reader
Summary: A palaeontologist six months into a secret life at Neverland finds herself lying awake beside the man she's fallen completely in love with, terrified of what the world will do to her when it finds out. What begins as a quiet fear spiralling into an argument becomes something far more intimate ā a night that strips them both down to nothing.
word count: 6.3k
tags: smut, age gap, mutual masturbation, masturbation in front of a mirror, cumshot, yes u are a swallower (soz if u aint), teasing, mike loves your body and wants to see allllll of you, some slight domesticity at the start, MIKE IN HIS READING GLASSES WEYHEY,
authors note; based on this request. i hope u guys enjoy this ... first mature mike fic... kinda nervous. letās pretend that in his late 40s mike was still living at neverland and that those fuck ass allegations never existed.
if there are any grave errors in this then u know it was a wee tired gal who wrote it.
He wore a pair of crisp, sky-blue cotton pyjamas, the top buttoned neatly to the throat. Michael was old school like that.
Without the stage makeup, the sharp of his cheekbones were softer, the famous cupid's bow of his lips relaxed but still a little pouty. He was so focused on the book, in front of him that he hadnāt realised your eyes were on him. The kids were finally in bed, and the Santa Barbra Valley was quite literally an oasis of pure and utter silence.
You lay on your side, head pillowed on your arm, watching him, the sound of your pulse in your ear. The digital clock on the nightstand read 1:17 AM.
For six months, this had been your secret universe, Neverland, the kids, your research. Access to all the books you could ever want; because Michael wanted them too.
It hadn't been the fame that made you fall. You'd grown up with him on MTV like everyone else, had your own version of him blu-tacked to some adolescent wall in your head. But that person and this person were barely related.
This one read your work irrigation manuals for pleasure to better understand you and got genuinely despondent about your losses.
you were used to failed dates and one night stands that didnāt work out, so when Michael came around all dashing and interesting, you hadn't stood a chance of getting away from his gravitational pull.
He was a beyond perfect boyfriend; allowing you into intimate spaces with his kids, being soft with you romantically, cooking you dinner - albeit, not very fancy dinners ā but it was what you both loved. The lack of care or pretence. His heart was always in the right place.
There would however, always be 12 dozen beautiful deep red roses on the counter in the main kitchen at Neverland for you, when you came home from a dig.
ā§Ė°.
Earlier that evening you'd been cross-legged on the library floor surrounded by plaster casts and field notes, a Triassic vertebra balanced in your palm; genuinely quite stressed about work⦠and the unraveling situation you found you could not control with Michael.
He could sense your stress and when he'd appeared in the doorway in his socks, two mugs of chamomile in hand, you felt your shoulders drop considerably.
"Is that bone from something that could have eaten me?"
You looked up. He was already looking at the bone with genuine concern.
"Probably not," you said. "It's a herbivore."
He looked quite petulantly disappointed that it wasn't some ravenous, crazed creature. He handed you your mug anyway and dropped down onto the floor beside you, crossing his legs, the chamomile balanced carefully in both hands while he peered at the vertebra like it might do something.
"How do you know it's a herbivore?"
"The teeth mostly. And the shape of the jaw."
"But you don't have the jaw."
"No."
"So you're guessing then?" He smirked at you, the smile lines around his mouth pronounced and feather fine.
You looked at him. "I'm inferring. From evidence we have collected, the contextā¦. It's different."
He made a face that suggested he wasn't entirely convinced but was willing to let it go, and reached for one of the plaster casts.
He turned it over slowly in his long fingers, studying it from every angle, and something about the way he held it and how he reached up and pulled his reading glasses down from where they'd been pushed up on top of his head, settling them onto his nose, made your heart squeeze in your chest.
His eyes behind the lenses went enormous. Soft and dark and completely ardent, blinking down at two hundred million years of bone like it owed him an explanation.
He always touched your work like that. Like he'd been told what it cost you to bring it home. He was so fascinated by everything you did, and he usually asked such deep and intrinsic questions about it too; the conversation very rarely lingered on himself, he always flipped it around on you.
"What's this one?"
"Femur. Juvenile. About two hundred and twenty million years old."
He was quiet for a moment, genuinely sitting inside that number.
"Two hundred and twenty million," he repeated softly, more to himself than to you. He set it down gently. "And we're sitting here worrying about tabloids."
You laughed before you could stop yourself and he looked pleased ā a little startled by it, like your laugh was a thing that still caught him off guard.
He stayed. Asked questions for nearly two hours, working through your field notes. he clearly had nowhere else to be and genuinely wanted to understand.
At some point he'd stretched out on his side on the rug, head propped in his hand, reading your annotations upside down and asking whether the scientist who'd disagreed with your dating method was being professionally jealous or just wrong.
"Both, probably," you'd said.
"Mm." He'd nodded gravely. "I know that feeling."
You'd been about to say something when small feet appeared in the doorway.
Prince stood there in his Star Wars pyjamas, eight years old and entirely unrepentant about the hour, holding a copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire against his chest like it was going to grow wings and fly away.
"Daddy."
Michael turned his head. "Buddy, it's lateā"
"You said you'd do the voices for the characters."
"I have company, baby."
"You did the 'maybe' face when you said it. The maybe face means yes."
You pressed your lips together very hard to try stop from laughing. Michael sat up and gave you a look that clearly communicated that he did not appreciate you finding this funny.
"The maybe face," he said flatly, not fully understanding Prince's made up concept.
Prince padded across the library and deposited the book in Michael's lap with a funny nonchalance that did not belong to a kid at that age. "Voldemort needs to be scary. Last time you made him sound like a good guyā
"He's a complex villain and Iā"
"Daddyyyyā Prince whined.
Michael picked up the book. Looked at you expectantly, clearly wanting you to get him out of this scenario; that would likely last into the small hours of the night; Prince never fell asleep fast.
"Okay," he huffed, standing, and Prince immediately took his hand. As he passed to walk out of the door, he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, warm and brief, there and gone before either of you had to overthink the softness of it. The domesticity.
Their voices disappeared down the hall. You could already hear Michael attempting something considerably more threatening than a butler.
You had sat for a moment listening to them with a small smile on your face, the chamomile tea stale and cold beside you.
ā§Ė°.
Heād come back into the bedroom later that evening with a soft smile on his face, clearly happy heād been able to do that for his son.Ā
You had already climbed back into bed and lay there in the dark with the weight of all of your thoughts sitting heavy on your sternum; six months of a life you hadn't planned on, settling over you like sediment.
He had come so out of the blue, a whirlwind, well and truly. All grins and soft murmurs about how āpretty you wereā and that he āneeded to take you out and learn more about archeologyā.Ā
There were long conversations that stretched until dawn about lost cities and starving children, about music as a healing force, about the joy of him being able to grow his own fruits and vegetables without anyone there to interrupt him now, and how he couldnāt have ever had that before if it werenāt for Neverland. He loved the slow life now, there was no more touring or extravagant stress on his body, just peace.
You'd connected in a way that felt predestined, two oddly-shaped puzzle pieces from different boxes that somehow fit. He called you his "mirror soul."
But outside these gatesā¦
"What if the fans find out?"
The words left your mouth quickly and quietly, like word vomit. Michael's finger, tracing a line of text, stilled. You inwardly rolled your eyes that he was trying to read such a stiff book at this hour; but this was Michael and he quite literally would read anything.
He didn't look up immediately. He slowly closed the book, using a velvet tassel to mark his place, and set it aside on the nightstand.
He took off his glasses, folded them neatly, and turned his head towards you. His dark eyes were almost amber in the lamplight.
"Then⦠they find out," he said, his voice a low, melodic rasp used only for these private hours.
A gentle smile touched his lips. "āand I want them to. I'm tired of hiding you away," He said, his hand slid over the covers to lightly touch yours that lay balanced on your side.
"You deserve to be shown off, to be in the light"
You pushed yourself up to sit, pulling your knees to your chest and your hand away from his.
The oversized MIT sweatshirt you wore swallowed you whole.
The silence stretched long enough to become its own kind of rebuttal to his sweet proposed gesture. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, but you could hear the slight emotional waver.
"Do you want to be with me, Y/N?" The question came out, no accusation in it yet, just something careful and exposed sitting underneath the words.
He was looking at you with intense, pleading eyes and you could see him doing the thing he did when he was bracing for impact; a stillness that moved through his whole body, like he'd drawn himself inward. Likely waiting to hear something he already suspected was coming.
"Because sometimes I feel like I am the only one who ā " he stopped. Pressed his lips together. And then started again.
"I need you to tell me honestly. Because if this isn't what you wantā"
"Michael, that's not what Iā"
"Then what?" He snapped.
and there it was, just briefly, the hurt surfacing before he could smooth it back down. He shifted against the pillows, and the lamplight caught the angle of his jaw, tight with the effort of staying composed.
"Because I have been patient, and I have been careful to keep you out of the papers, and I have tried to give you every reason to feel safe here, and still you talk about this," He gestured between you both, exasperated. "like it is something you are waiting to escape from. Like I am something you are waiting to get away from."
"I'm not," you said, and the firmness in your own voice surprised you. "I promise you, I am not."
He looked at you for a long moment. Something in his expression shifted, the hurt receding just slightly, making room for confusion. "Then why do you keepā"
"Because they'll eviscerate me." The fear tumbled out now, cold and slick, and once it started you couldn't seem to stop it.
"They'll find my academic records, they'll find pictures from my high school days and make fun of me, they'll call me a gold-digger, a nobody, they'll ā they'll say I'm too plain, too ugly for you."
Your hands, curled up in the sleeves of your sweater, came up to the sides of your face.
"Your fans, they have an image of you. It's celestial. And I'm just a person really. Just a regular person. They'll find out how much older you are than me and they'll eat it up, and they'll get between us and cast doubt in your mind that maybe I am not the oneā"
True tears started to brim in your eyes of the thought of being rinsed through in the tabloids, just like Michael had been most of his adult life.
The tension completely left his body at that point, his eyes no longer casting an accusatory and pained look. You looked up and found him watching you with an expression you hadn't seen before ā it wasnāt hurt or guarded, something much softer and a little undone, like he'd been handed back something he thought he'd lost.
He understood now. It hadn't been about him at all.
His usually easy smile was settled in a patient line. He had listened until you ran out of breath, until the only sound was your shaky inhale. It was his turn now to make a point.
"C'mere," he said, a firm request, cutting off your spiral into despair. His voice had dropped another octave, an authority you'd only glimpsed in flashes before.
It was the voice of the man who commanded stadiums, not really the gentle soul who read bedtime stories to his children.
This was Michael in his late forties, a king in his own kingdom, and he was done with this ugly narrative that the press were constantly spinning about his celebrity.
You uncurled yourself and moved to the edge of the bed beside him. Instead of pulling you into an embrace, he took your face in both his hands. His palms were warm, his touch infinitely gentle, but his grip was unyielding.
"Look at me," he whispered. "Really look. Do you see a celestial being? Or do you see a man?"
You rolled your eyes and tried to pull out of his grasp but he held your face tighter.
"A manā¦" you said, moping.
"Uh-huh. A man who needs prescription glasses to read, who loves bad sci-fi movies, who gets nervous before going to the dentist? You see me. And I see you. The most beautiful, brilliant, confounding woman to ever walk into my chaos. And I will not let you speak about her that way."
He released your face and stood up in one fluid motion, extending a hand. "Get up."
"Michael⦠its late, where could we possibly be going?" You reluctantly whined and gave him your hand.
"Up. Now." The command was soft, but absolute.
You took his hand. He led you across the deep-pile carpet, to the far wall of the master suite, which was dominated by a magnificent, floor-to-ceiling antique mirror in a gilded frame.
He let go of your hand and, with a surprising strength and energy for almost 2am, began pulling large, decorative pillows from a nearby chaise lounge, arranging them in a semi-circle on the floor directly before the glass.
"Sit," he instructed, nodding to the pillows.
Feeling a confusing mix of vulnerability and a strange, thrilling charge, you sank down onto the cushions, sitting cross-legged. You were facing the mirror, your reflection wide-eyed and small in the sweatshirt.
He came behind you, a soft and oddly sweet vision in his blue pyjamas, and knelt close, his knees framing your hips.
You could feel the heat of his body through the thin cotton. He placed his hands on your shoulders, his gaze locking onto yours in the mirror.
"You see her?" he murmured, his lips beside your ear. His breath was warm, the air moving the hair beside your ear, tickling you slightly.
"That's the woman I fell for. Look at her."
You tried to look away, but his hands tightened slightly. "Look."
You met your own gaze. You saw the anxiety, the fear, and most importantly how lost you looked.
"She is a humanitarian," he whispered, his voice a sensual, rolling cadence. He began a slow, deep massage of your shoulders. "Her hands have touched artifacts thousands of years old. They've also held the hands of orphans in Nairobi. She has a mind like a diamond; precise, brilliant, and tough." One of his hands slid down your arm, his fingers tracing the sleeve of your sweatshirt.
"She has a laugh that sounds like wind chimes near a beach town. She argues with me about the socio-political and⦠pretty much debates in circles around me." He laughed warmly, and you felt the vibration of it against your back. It was always a welcome sound, his laugh. Laced with innocence that made your heart swell.
"Hell, I think you're the only one to ever be able to tell me i am wrong to my face"
His other hand left your shoulder and came around your front, splaying possessively over your lower belly, pulling you back snugly against his chest.
You could feel the firm plane of his torso, the steady beat of his heart against your back. His voice never wavered, a hypnotic, intimate sermon. He was so good at this, you'd fallen into his clutch now. He'd speak at charity galas and award ceremonies, calling attention to incredibly important causes with grace and ease. He always knew the right thing to say. All that wit and emotional intelligence, still intact under the cruel paradox of fame. The more it demanded of him, the more it took. Yet, here he was. Still here, and still trying; and with you.
"And this bodyā¦" he breathed into your ear, changing the subject. He nipped your lobe gently with his teeth. A sharp, sweet jolt went through you.
"This body is a masterpiece. It's strong. It carries her across dig sites and through laboratories."
His hand on your belly slid lower, pressing down through the thick fabric of your sweats and the sweatshirt. "It houses a fire of ambition that matches my own."
His fingers found the seam of your sweats, dipping beneath the waistband. They didn't dive lower, just rested there, a hot, promising weight on your pubic bone. Your breath hitched and your head fell back against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut.
"Eyes open, baby," he coaxed, his teeth grazing your earlobe again. "Watch. Watch me worship you."
You forced your eyes open. In the mirror, you saw the intimate tableau: you nestled back against him, your cheeks rosy.
Him, looking over your shoulder, his expression one of fierce, concentrated adoration. His famous features were set in lines of absolute certainty. His smile reached his eyes, and the lines there were accentuated in the lighting of his bedroom; adorable. Proof that he had smiled so much throughout his life and had lived so thoroughly.
His hand began to move. He rubbed slow, firm circles over the front of your sweats, the heel of his palm applying perfect pressure right over your clit. The fabric was a frustrating barrier, but the motion, combined with his words, his teeth on your ear, was overwhelmingly potent.
"They don't get to have an opinion," he said, his voice thickening. "They can have me when I put myself out there. But when I want to be private I will. I get you always, because you're mine⦠and no one else's"
He paused briefly, his eyes finding yours in the mirror, his breath quite shallow.
"-- And right now, I can feel my girls heat through two layers of clothing." He punctuated the statement by grinding his palm down harder, and a broken moan escaped you.
"And its so warm, and wet for me," You felt your hips gyrate slightly, without you even meaning. Your body just naturally gravitated to the pleasure, seeking more.
"That's it," he praised, his own breathing starting to deepen. "Yeah" his voice was breathy and low.
"Let me hear you. It's only me here with you, let yourself feel good."
His other hand came up to your chest, sliding under the bulk of the sweatshirt and your thin camisole beneath.
His cool, elegant fingers found your bare breast, cupping its weight, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your nipple until it peaked into a hard, aching point.
He pinched it gently, rolling it, and you arched against him, a whimper caught in your throat.
"See how beautiful you are?" he murmured, watching your reactions in the glass.
"See how you come alive? That's my doing. Why should we deny ourselves of this just because some journalists said so? No one else can have an impact on this."
The mixture of sensations were a driving delirium in your brain. The deliberate, rhythmic pressure through your sweats, the expert play of his fingers on your breast, the hot whisper of his words and the sharp little bites on your ear and neck. You were panting, your hands gripping his thighs where they bracketed you.
"Off," he commanded softly, his hand leaving your breast to hook into the waistband of your sweats and your panties beneath. "Lift up for me."
In a daze, you raised your hips. He peeled both the sweats and your simple cotton panties down your thighs in one smooth motion, leaving you bare from the waist down, the cool air a shock against your feverish skin. You felt yourself start to flush again realising you had not even bothered shaving. You gave him a helpless look in the mirror and he rolled his eyes and tutted.
"Aw c'mon now, you know i prefer you this way" the sound of his voice in your ear sent tingles shooting down your spine, making your cunt wetter. You could see your entrance glistening in the mirror, courtesy of the spotlights above you.
"So perfect f'me, so natural", he peppered kisses down your neck and back up again to your ear, the skin there now raised with goosebumps. "-- the way its meant to be"
He tossed the garments he'd been holding aside without a glance, his attention fully returned to the mirror.
His arm came back around you, his hand no longer hindered by fabric. His fingers, long and knowing, slid through your slick folds with a low, appreciative hum that vibrated through your back.
"So slick," he breathed. "So ready for me."
You were so wet for him that you could hear yourself, you didn't even bother look at what he was doing with his hands, the sensation already lighting a fire in your stomach.
He slide his his middle and ring fingers into you slowly and gently, the base of his hand now pushing at an angle against your clit. You let go of the breath you were holding and threw your head back. His free hand that had been roaming came up to hold your neck.
"Mm i love seeing you like this, how you respond to my touch" his hand gently left your neck and and pulled your face to a position where you could see yourself in the large ornate mirror again.
He gave you a shy little smile and continued on. The scene in front of you was obscene, and so diabolically dirty. He pulled his fingers out of you and a glistening string of wetness trailed away with it. You briefly eyed his face to see his reaction to this; his eyes drooping lightly, lustful and his bottom lip under painful pressure from where his teeth where digging into it.
He found your clit, already swollen and throbbing, and began to circle it with a torturously slow, wet precision, smearing around your arousal.
His touch was confident, dominant, leaving no room for insecurity or thought.
It was pure sensation, orchestrated by him. Your moans became continuous now, a low, desperate string of soundsā"Ohgod, oh, thatssogood, p-pleaseā¦"
You watched, mesmerized and exposed, as his fingers worked you in the mirror. You saw your own face, eyes dark with pleasure, mouth slack.
his face also reflected, etched with an efficacious mix of love and lust, his eyes glued to where his hand disappeared between your legs. The visual was as arousing as the physical touch, a feedback loop of escalating need.
"I'll continue since you said please, m'girl", feigned innocence in his low voice,
Driven by a surge of boldness, you reached one hand back, fumbling behind you. You found the firm swell of his erection in his pyjama pants.
He was so hard for you, straining against the pale blue cotton. You palmed him through the fabric, and a ragged, guttural groan was torn from his throat, his rhythm faltering for a second.
"is this really turning you on, Michael?" you managed to gasp, squeezing him gently.
In the mirror, you saw his eyes slam shut for a moment, his jaw tightening.
When they opened, they burned with a new, hungrier fire. He increased the pace of his fingers, then now sliding inside and out at a rapid pace, curling just so. You cried out, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Y-yeah, God ā," he gritted out, his composed, sensual narration cracking under the strain of his own desire.
"And it's not enough. Touching you like this⦠watching you⦠it's heaven, but it's not enough."
He withdrew his fingers suddenly, making you whine in protest. He brought them to his lips, never breaking eye contact in the mirror, and slowly, deliberately, sucked your taste from them.
The act was so blatantly carnal, so far from the shy, boyish figure of public imagination, it stole the air from your lungs.
He didn't let the moment at the mirror linger. The charge was too high, the need too direct. With a soft groan that was more command than sound, he stood, pulling you up with him. Your legs were unsteady, but his arm had a strong hold around your waist, guiding you the few steps back to the edge of the vast bed.
"Here," he murmured, his voice already thick with intent.
He sat on the edge, the mattress dipping under his weight, and pulled you to stand between his spread knees.
The sky-blue pyjamas were a stark, innocent contrast to the dark hunger in his eyes.
"Riiiiight here, baby."
His hands went to your bare waist, and tugged at the hem of the thick sweatshirt you were wearing.
"Let's get this off," he said sweetly.
The cool air of the room kissed your bare skin on your legs, but the heat of his gaze was enough to keep you warm.
"Arms up." You obeyed, and he pulled the sweater and the thin camisole over your head, leaving you utterly exposed before him. You felt quite silly in this moment, and veryā¦observed. In the past, the sex had mostly been in the dark, you feeling shy and uneasy about your imperfections. Michael was lean, petite, but strong and very beautiful. You were not always sure you lived up to that level ofā¦perfection.
You knew deep down and rationally that no one was perfect and even he struggled at times, his weight fluctuating and his vitiligo⦠but he still had such a presence, an aura that preceded his natural and physical beauty.
He let out a long, slow breath.
"My God."
A violent wave of shyness crashed over you. You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to shrink, to hide. He caught your wrists gently but firmly.
"No," he said, his voice low and unwavering. "No hiding. Not from me. Not ever." He guided your hands down to your sides, then leaned forward, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your belly. His hands slid up to cradle your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you gasp.
"I want to see the pleasure on your face when it happens. And I want you to see it on mine. We're not hiding anything tonight" He said, his features soft.
"I am not willing to hide you anymore, either."
He laid back on the bed, propping himself up on the mountain of pillows, his legs still hanging off the side. He beckoned you with a curl of his finger.
"Come here. Sit on the bed, facing me. Show me how you touch yourself."
Trembling, you climbed onto the bed, kneeling a few feet from him. The lamplight painted your skin in gold, highlighting every tremor.
You couldn't look at him. Your gaze dropped to the rumpled duvet.
"Eyes on me, baby," he coaxed, his voice a sensual rasp. He was already working on the buttons of his pyjama top. He shrugged it off, revealing the lean, pale plane of his torso. It was mostly pale with a sprinkling of darker little vitiligo patches; a beautiful painted galaxy on his skin.
He then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his bottoms.
"C'monnn, keep looking at me."
You forced your eyes up as he pushed the blue cotton down his hips. His cock sprang free, fully erect, thick and flushed a deep, ruddy dark pink at its tip. A prominent vein ran along its length, and a clear bead of fluid welled at the slit. As much as it was cliche, he really was breathtaking. An intimate masculine sight.
He took himself in hand, giving one long, slow stroke from base to tip, a low hiss escaping his teeth.
"See what you do to me? How much I have been strainin'" he swallowed slightly, his mouth clearly dry. "This is all yours."
He began to stroke himself quite delicately, you observed, but not without showcasing rhythm.
His fist moved with a soft, wet sound, his thumb smearing the pre-cum over his swollen tip.
"Your turn," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours. "Touch yourself. Let me see you do it."
Your hand felt like a stranger's as you brought it down between your legs. The first contact of your own fingers on your slick, swollen flesh made you jerk. You touched your clit, a feather-light circle, and a shaky sigh escaped you. You tried to look away, your cheeks burning.
"Please look at me though," he said, his voice gaining a ragged, desperate edge. His strokes on himself sped up slightly.
"I want to see it in your eyes. I want to see the second it feels good. C'mon, m'girl. For me."
You met his gaze. The intensity there; the love, the lust, the sheer wantā¦it was as if he were getting on his knees and begging from the ground for this.
You pressed harder, circling your clit with more purpose. A soft moan built in the back of your throat.
"That's it," he encouraged, his own breathing deepening. He shifted, spreading his legs wider, giving you a full, unobstructed view of his hand working his cock.
The sight was mesmerizingly lewd. You could see the way his legs tensed in pleasure, and how he worked his body to try get himself further to the precipice; his movements becoming slightly uncoordinated.
"Yeah, just like that. You're so wet for me. I can hear it. Let me hear you moan, too."
You did. A low, continuous whimper started as you fell into a rhythm, two fingers sliding through your own arousal before returning to circle your clit. You were panting, your free hand clutching at the duvet.
"Use your fingers inside," he guided, his voice hoarse. "Imagine it's me. Curl them a lil'. Ahh⦠just like that."
He quickened the motion on himself, his fist twisting on the upstroke, his hand angled in the perfect way that could nudge him closer to his peak.
He was fucking his own hand now, his hips lifting off the bed to meet each stroke. His hair was falling in his face, no longer silky and straight at the front where his real hair was peaking out, it looked soft, wet and coiled.
"You see how hard you make me? You see how bad I need you? How much I crave you? I'm gonna come so hard for you, baby. But I need to see you. I need to watch you come for me first."
You were so close hearing him talk this way. It wasn't that he wasn't always dirty, he most definitely was.
The fever pitch within you was tightening, burning. The visual of him ā the man you'd really grown to adore, on his back, jerking himself off with desperate, hungry strokes while he watched you pleasure yourself, was the most insane aphrodisiac imaginable.
But the vulnerability was overwhelming. As the first flutters of your orgasm began to spark, you tried to turn your head, to hide your face in the crook of your arm.
"NO." The word was a cracked, desperate plea. He stopped stroking himself, his hand stilling, gripping the base of his cock tightly, the veins on his pale hands standing out.
"Please. Look at me. Please. I need your eyes. It's the only thing thatā" he looked down at himself and started to slowly but surely pump his cock in his hands again "⦠ahh⦠it's the only thing that makes it real. Don't hide from me. Let me in."
The raw, broken need in his voice shattered your last barrier. You turned your face back to him, your eyes swimming with tears of overwhelming sensation and emotion. You held his needy gaze.
Not all of the dirtiness of the situation, but his need, that's what sent you right off of the edge.
With a cry out loud of "fuck", you came.
Your body bowed and jittered, your fingers working frantically as waves of intense, pulsing fulfilment racked you. You held his eyes through it all, watching as your climax reflected in his; a mirror of lust and ecstasy.
The sight of you coming while holding his gaze destroyed him.
"Fuuā!" he spluttered, cutting himself off before he could yell out much more; his hips moving off of the bed, and his legs straight and tense with concentration. His hand became a blur on his cock, his strokes short, brutal, and frantic.
"Your--Mouth. Open your mouth. Now. Gonna give it to you. Take it. Swallow it!"
You were dazed, submissive, floating on the aftermath. You crawled forward on your knees, your lips parting obediently just inches from the throbbing head of his cock.
He didn't wait. With a final, guttural shout ā "AHH-GOD! I loveā" ā¦he came.
The first powerful jet hit the back of your throat, hot and salty. The next pulses painted your tongue, filled your mouth, thick and copious.
He kept stroking himself through it, muttering "thats it m'girl" milking every last drop, his body trembling violently.Ā
Those two words sat in your chest, lodged like a wooden stake, splinters and all.Ā
āI loveā ā and then nothing.Ā
Swallowed back down in the chaos of it, gone before you could be sure of what you'd heard. You tried to hold onto the present moment, the heat of him, the weight of the room around you, but your mind kept snagging on it, turning it over like one of your fossils.Ā
He had never said it. Not once in six months. And maybe he hadn't said it now either. Maybe it had been nothing. Maybe the wanting of it was making you hear things that weren't there.
His eyes were screwed shut in intense release, but then they flew open, locking onto yours as he fed his release into your mouth, ensuring you saw the utter, vulnerable surrender on his face.
Despite the come in your mouth, and how it dribbled over your lips and chin, he smirked and said something you were really not expecting and had never heard before from him in this context. He was usually quite old school.
"Kiss me," he panted, his voice wrecked. "please."
You did. The act was profoundly submissive, deeply intimate. He must have been able to taste himself on your lips.
Spent, he fell backwards deeper onto the bed, his softening cock resting against his belly. He was breathing like he'd run a marathon, sweat glistening on his chest. He reached for you, his hands trembling as they cupped your face.
"Damn that's taking more out of me nowadays than i thought," he whispered, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.
He pulled you down, into what you expected to be another kiss, but instead moved to rest your head on his sweaty chest, right over his pounding heart. He wrapped his arms around you, his hands finding somewhere to hold on your body, the way they always did, as he already knew the shape of you by heart.
"Y'hear that pounding? Genuinely that's how you make me feel, always" he murmured, the bliss of the intimacy evident in his voice.
You turned your head and looked up at him through your eyelashes, completely dumfounded by the entire outcome of the evening.Ā
The question was still there, quiet and persistent, curled up and pressing around your heart. You weren't going to ask him. You weren't ready to know the answer, and you suspected, from the way he'd swallowed it back down, that neither was he.
As the clock flickered over to the 3am mark, he spoke again more quietly; "i need them to know you, Y/N. how special you are."
You nodded solemnly, not exactly thrilled about the situation, but it meant that you wouldn't have to be so careful anymore, and that you could begin living a life that truly was in the light, and not as much in the shadows.
The silence of the valley returned and all you could smell was him, musky and a bit sweaty with a powdery aftershave peaking through.
This evening proved you had sacred proof of a trust that maybe no headline could ever touch.