bre’grace 🫶🏽.

⊹ ࣪ ˖꒰ঌ ໒꒱.⋆˚࿔ description: when michael can't let go of his anger during a recording session, his lover takes things into her own hands. A passionate lesson ends in the studio after hours, with a recording session officially canceled.

‧₊ ♪˚⊹ content: 18+, smut, thriller!michael dom!reader, sub!michael mean-ish!michael, light angst, smut smut smut, choking, being tied up! purposefully lowercase, not proofread!

a/n: guys just note that this takes place in the making of his album ‘bad’

.ೀ the studio had been empty for almost forty minutes.

paper cups of cold coffee sat abandoned beside the soundboard. sheet music was scattered across the piano bench, and someone’s jacket had been left hanging over the back of a chair in the rush to get out. the red numbers on the clock above the recording booth glowed past midnight.

you couldn’t blame them for leaving, the entire day had been exhausting.

michael had stopped tracks halfway through recording. he’d made musicians replay the same sections until their fingers cramped and their frustration showed on their faces. he’d called out engineers over details no one else could even hear. every apology had only seemed to make him more irritated.

you knew he was stressed, you knew what this album meant to him, but that didn’t make it easy to watch.

now, the studio was silent except for the soft hum of equipment and the scratch of michael’s pencil against a notebook balanced on his knee.

he sat hunched forward in the swivel chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. his curls had fallen into his face hours ago, and he hadn’t bothered to push them back. there were dark circles under his eyes. he’d been here all day, and it showed.

you walked over slowly and leaned against the edge of the console.

“you should go home.” he didn’t look up when he said it. his voice was quiet, distracted, like the words had escaped automatically.

you smiled faintly. “you should too.”

after sighing, he finally paused his writing and rubbed a hand over his face before shaking his head. “i can’t.”

the room fell quiet again as your eyes drifted to the pages in front of him. lyrics scribbled over lyrics. arrows and circles and entire sections scratched out. he looked exhausted.

you swallowed. “they worked really hard today.”

his hand stopped moving and slowly, he lifted his head and looked at you, confusion flickering across his face. “who?”

“everybody.” you spoke softly, referring to his staff, and producer quincy. for a second, he just stared.

then he leaned back in his chair and looked away, as if the answer was obvious. “that’s their job.”

you nodded. “i know.” you kept your voice soft. careful. “i just think maybe you were a little hard on them today.”

the silence that followed felt immediate.

he sat up straighter. “a little hard?” he repeated. his eyebrows pulled together, disbelief creeping into his expression.

you folded your arms loosely over your chest. “they were trying, michael.”

he let out a short laugh, but not because anything was funny. “trying doesn’t make records.”

the words landed harder than he intended them to. you looked at him for a moment before answering. “no,” you said quietly. “but they’re still people.”

the chair rolled backward as he stood and the sudden movement startled you. “you think i don’t know that?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair.

“that’s not what i said.” you sigh.

“do you know how important this album is?” he asked, his voice rising. he gestured wildly toward the notebooks, the equipment, the entire room around him. “do you know what’s at stake?”

you stared at him. “of course i do.”

“no.” he shook his head hard enough that his curls bounced against his forehead. “no, because if you did, you wouldn’t be standing here telling me i need to worry about everybody’s feelings.”

the frustration in his voice echoed through the empty studio making your chest tighten.

“i’m not asking you to worry about everybody’s feelings.”

he laughed again, sharper this time. “then what are you asking?”

you opened your mouth and quickly closed it.

because suddenly, after watching him push himself to the edge all day, after watching everyone else walk on eggshells around him for hours, you didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.

you looked down at the floor and sighed. “your staff are still human,” you mumbled quietly. “there’s no need to be so hard on them.”

the room went still. when you looked back up, the expression on his face had changed.

the anger was still there, but there was something else underneath it. it was hurt.

“you know what?” he said, his voice suddenly cold. “that’s easy for you to say.”

you blinked. “what’s that supposed to mean michael?”

he looked away, jaw tightening. “it means you don’t understand.”

the words hit harder than you expected, you glared at him. “don’t do that.”

he looked back. “do what?”

“act like i’m some outsider.”

he scoffed and threw his hands in the air. “well, you’re not the one trying to make the greatest album of all time.”

the sentence hung between you. for a second, neither of you moved. because you knew what he meant.

you swallowed hard. “i never said you shouldn’t try.”

“then stop telling me how to do it.”

his voice cracked slightly at the end.

not with anger, but exhaustion.”

you looked at him. really looked at him. you noticed how his hands were shaking, his breathing was uneven, and that there was frustration all over his face.

but underneath it—there was fear.

and suddenly, you felt tired too. tired of his inconsiderate behavior.

“god, i’m so sick of you acting like this!” you slam michael back into the leather executive chair, his protests cut short as you yank his silk tie off with one sharp motion.

"what the— baby, what are you doing—" his words come out muffled as you loop the tie around his mouth, securing it with a tight knot behind his head. he struggles slightly, eyes wide and confused. "mmpfh!"

"shh." you press a finger to his lips, silencing him. "i’m tired of this attitude. you think you can talk to me like that after how you treated your staff today?"

he tries to argue again, but the tie muffles his words completely. you can see the frustration in his eyes.

you straddle him in the chair, trapping his arms between your thighs and the armrests. "let’s get one thing straight, michael. i’m not putting up with your stress-induced jerkiness anymore." you lean down, your face inches from his, voice low and commanding.

"i know you're stressed about the album, but treating people like garbage isn't the answer." you run your hands down his chest soothingly, but firmly keep him pinned in the chair. "look at you, all tied up and still trying to argue."

you kiss along his jawline, your lips soft against his skin. "you’re so cute when you're all riled up." you whisper in his ear, your voice playful but dominant. "but you know what? you’re going to sit here, shut up, and take it."

he whines against the tie, his hands twitching before trying to grab at your waist. his eyes are wide, a mix of frustration and arousal clear on his face.

his brows furrow as he tries to speak, the muffled sounds coming out as pathetic little grunts. "mmph! m'mph!"

"oh my, look who's all helpless and tied up now." you coo at him snarkily as you undo his belt slowly. "no backtalk? no orders?" You lean down and bite gently at his earlobe. "It's adorable."

michael’s hands finally reach your waist, sliding under the hem of your shirt with desperate urgency.

he whimpers into the tie as he tugs the fabric up, his fingers leaving hot trails on your bare skin. your shirt hits the floor and he immediately pulls you closer, mouth dropping to your collarbone, helpless frustrated sounds vibrating against your skin as his need consumes him.

"aww, look at you, trying so hard to kiss me." you giggle softly, running a hand through his hair. "can’t even use that pretty mouth of yours to talk back."

you lean down and peck his tied-up lips gently. "so needy and desperate, aren't you?" you coo at him mockingly.

his eyes are wide and pleading, the tie muffling his desperate whines as he tugs at the waistband of your jeans with shaking hands.

he looks up at you, face scrunched up in a pathetic expression, clearly begging you to take mercy on him and remove the denim barrier between his touch and your skin."mmph!"

"no." you pat his cheek condescendingly as he whimpers at your jeans. "patience, michael." you shift, dropping to your knees between his legs as you undo his belt slowly.

you sigh softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "i know you're stressed. i know the album is eating you alive." you fingers work the buckle.

as you pull out his cock, he lets out a relieved whimper, his body relaxing slightly as he realizes you're not going to deny him completely.

“Mmmph... mmm..." his eyes roll back in his head as you wrap your hand around his length, stroking him gently.

"shh, i got you." you coo softly as you stroke his cock slowly, your other hand cupping his cheek gently. "you’re so wound up, aren't you?

poor thing, working so hard, taking on everything." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his tied-up lips. "It's okay to fall apart a little."

his hips buck up into your hand desperately, completely helpless and falling apart. the tie muffles his pleasure-filled whimpers as his eyes squeeze shut, forehead furrowed in ecstasy.

he’s completely lost in sensation, the stressed-out musician disappearing as you stroke him gently.

you wrap your lips around his cock, taking him deep into your mouth. you suction hard, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head up and down quickly.

he throws his head back, shouting muffled sounds against the tie as pure pleasure overwhelms him.

his hand slowly creeps up, trembling as it finds its way under your jaw, fingertips pressing against your skin. he nods slightly, completely wrecked by your mouth.

his eyes meet yours—blown out, hazy, barely present. his brow furrows deeply, eyes rolling back repeatedly as you speed up, tongue swirling around the head. "mmph! MMMMPH!"*

you read his body language perfectly—his hips stuttering, moans growing louder and more desperate against the tie.

you pull away suddenly just as he's about to cum, leaving him panting and confused. michael’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, hands grasping at empty air where your head was moments ago.

"i get that you're frustrated, michael." you say as you sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth slowly.

"but taking it out on the crew isn't helpful. you almost yelled at poor brad for something that wasn't his fault."

he squirms in the chair, completely wrecked and desperate, his cock twitching painfully. the tie still muffles his furious, needy whimpers.

his eyes are dark with frustration—both from being denied right before climax and from being lectured like a naughty child.

your hands rest casually on his thighs, your tone conversational and light while he falls apart. “mmph!” he groans, eyes rolling in annoyance.

you climb back onto his lap slowly, never breaking eye contact. he's completely bare underneath you, his hard cock pressing desperately against your jeans, a wet spot forming from his precum.

he looks up at you with those frustrated, needy eyes, completely at your mercy."mmmph..."

"yeah, baby, i know.. this is how it feels to be treated poorly, huh?" you mumble under your breath, leaning over the studio table to pick up the paper with his lyrics.

you feel his hard cock press desperately against you through your jeans, precum leaving a wet spot.

you lean over the studio table casually, reaching for the wrinkled paper with your hands. you flip it around slowly, reading the lyrics.

you can feel him squirm beneath you, his cock pressing harder against you. "mmmph!" his body tenses slightly as you brush against him, and he looks away, his eyebrows furrowing in a combination of shame and embarrassment.

"all this talent on this paper, baby..." you say softly, rubbing his jaw gently. "but never forget how you treat people, okay? your words matter offstage too."

his eyes flutter closed briefly at your gentle touch, even as his cock throbs against you angrily.

"do you understand me, michael?" you ask firmly, rubbing his jaw again. he nods frantically, hips bucking upwards desperately, trying to make you feel his rock-hard cock through your jeans.

his muffled whimpers grow louder against the tie as he begs silently for release and forgiveness.

"i can't hear you," you whisper, leaning in closer. your finger slips between the fabric and his skin, slowly pulling the tie down so it slides under his chin.

he gasps sharply as his mouth is suddenly free, looking up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "yes! i understand!"

"so if quincy messed up next time..." you mumbled before slipping off your jeans and panties. then you slowly sinking down onto his hard cock as you wait for an answer.

your soaking wet, making him slide in easily his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud moan. "i-i’ll... i’ll talk to him nicely! i’ll listen!" he stammers out, hands gripping your hips tightly.

"why was that so hard to do today?" you ask softly, playing with the loose tie around his neck.

you’re slowly rolling your hips, not enough to make him cum but enough to keep him desperate and thinking clearly. his brain is foggy with pleasure but your words are sinking in.

"mm...i don’t- kn" he barely replies, brain completely scrambled by how good you feel wrapped around his cock.

he can barely focus on his words, he can only think about how wet and perfect you are. this is exactly what you wanted - him completely distracted by pleasure instead of anger.

"i don't think you understand," you say with a soft sigh. before he can even open his mouth to argue, you tie the loose tie around his neck this time, wrapping it just firmly enough to restrict his speech but not painfully.

he grunts and tries to speak, the fabric keeping his mouth shut, his eyes rolling back slightly at the gentle restriction around his throat.

"since you can't learn, i’ll just use you," you whisper. you start bouncing on him fiercely, using his body for your own pleasure.

michael’s eyes flutter closed as he moans loudly against the tie. he can feel you getting wetter and tighter around him.

your feet are planted firmly on his sides as you bounce up and down on his cock, using the leverage to control the depth and angle.

you’re leaning slightly forward against him, your breasts pressing into his face. he can feel them bouncing with each movement, muffled moans vibrating against your skin through the tie.

you reach down and rub his face, making him look up at you. your eyes meet—his are hazy and unseeing, his mouth frozen shut by the pressure against his throat.

"you’re so sexy, baby," you coo, rolling your hips slowly. "i hate when you don't know how to act." your feet are planted on his sides as you continue to ride him.

The studio is dimly lit, soundproof walls muffling everything except the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together.

your moans echo off the acoustic panels, loud and unrestrained. michael’s strained, needy groans are muffled by the tie around his neck, coming out as desperate little whimpers. you can feel your orgasm building, his cock hitting that perfect spot.

you grasp at him tightly, nails digging into his shoulders as you moan loudly, "i’m about to cum, baby... right fucking now..."

michael’s body tenses beneath you, his cock throbbing inside you as he muffles a loud, desperate groan, "mmph.. fuck!"

As you pull on the string, the tie immediately loosens, falling away from his mouth. michael gasps for air, his face red and flushed as he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you even closer as he cums with you. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"give it to me, baby... let go of all that stress, michael," you whisper against his lips, kissing him deeply as your bodies convulse together.

you can feel his hot release flooding inside you, matching your own orgasm wave for wave. the wet sounds of your climax fill the studio, mixing with your synchronized moans.

aftershocks still ripple through both of you as you slump together in the chair, completely spent.

the tie lies discarded on the floor beside you, forgotten in the heat of passion. your fingers gently run through michael’s sweaty hair, soothing him as he buries his face in your neck.

"mmm... the recording session tomorrow is gonna have to be canceled," michael murmurs against your neck, his voice hoarse and satisfied.

he begins to caress you gently, his hands roaming over your curves possessively as he nuzzles into you. "i need a day to recover from all this stress you just helped me release."

ʚɞ description: one summer night, your boyfriend michael comes home after enjoying his time at studio 54. this time, he’s a bit tipsy; the liquid courage finally allowing him to show how much he loves you.

°❀ content: 18+, smut, soft dom!michael, cunnilingus, first time, established relationship, michael wanted that cookie BAD

a/n: this just a little something, i hope yall enjoy.

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

the apartment was quiet except for the sound of the city humming outside your windows.

you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your nightgown, carefully dabbing cream onto your face when you heard the unmistakable sound of someone fighting with the front door.

not unlocking it, but fighting it. there was a clatter. a muttered “wait a minute.” another clatter and then silence.

then, triumphantly— “ha!”

you laughed to yourself before you even turned around, only michael.

a few seconds later, the front door shut, followed by the sound of footsteps making their way through the apartment. slow and dramatic footsteps.

you stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see michael appear in the doorway of your bedroom.

he looked beautiful and exhausted all at once. his dark curls were wild from dancing, his shirt was wrinkled and half untucked, and there was a rosy flush spread across his cheeks. he swayed slightly where he stood, staring at you with wide eyes.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he grinned. a huge, ridiculous grin.

“oh, wow.”

before you could ask what that meant, he stumbled toward the bed and flopped onto it face-first with an exaggerated groan.

you leaned against the doorframe, trying not to laugh. “hey, baby.”

michael lifted his head immediately. his face lit up with excitement. “hi, my love.” his voice came out soft and dreamy. “i missed you so much.”

he stretched the last word out dramatically, throwing an arm across his forehead like he’d just returned from war.

you crossed your arms. “you’ve been gone for four hours.”

he sat up. “exactly.” he nodded solemnly.

“it was horrible.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

that seemed to delight him. he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward you, smiling so hard his eyes nearly disappeared.

“everybody was loud,” he informed you, holding his hands out like he was presenting evidence. “and nobody there looked like you.”

he stopped directly behind you.

close enough that you could smell his cologne beneath the smoke and summer air clinging to his clothes.

he pressed his body up against yours, arms snaking around your waist, as his head sat comfortably on your shoulder, looking at your reflection.

he noticed your hair, and your short pink nightgown. “you got prettier.”

you blinked. “since when?” your hands softly rummaging around in your skincare bag, looking for your eye cream.

he thought about it. “since…” he tilted his head, concentrating very hard. “…tonight.”

then he burst into giggles.

you shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “how much did you drink?”

michael gasped so dramatically you thought he might actually fall over. “not that much.”

he held up his fingers and then looked at them noticing the number changing. “okay, maybe a little.”

you laughed again, and he immediately smiled wider, like that had been his goal the entire time.

without warning, he tilted his head into the warmth of your neck. “come here.” he murmured lowly.

“michael, i’m already here.”

at your somewhat shocking words, he quickly pulls away to see your reflection once again, staring at you for a second.

then he laughed so hard he had to hide his face in the coils of your hair. “oh.”

when he looked back up, his expression softened. really softened and he squeezed your hands gently. “i just wanted to come home.”

michael stands behind you in the bathroom, the buzz making his movements slow and deliberate.

he watches you through the mirror as you carefully pat eye cream under your eyes, completely unaware of the predatory look in his drunken eyes.

his fingers trace lazy patterns over your nightgown, fingertips brushing against the skin of your collarbone teasingly. "mm..." he murmurs, leaning in closer.

"you know you look so damn pretty doing this night routine," he slurs softly, his lips moving against your shoulder.

he starts kissing up your neck, his hands sliding around to grip your hips possessively. "and i know there’s nothing under this nightgown, girl." he nips at your earlobe playfully.

your face flushes crimson as you keep applying eye cream, refusing to look at him through the mirror.

your hands tremble slightly, but you try to sound casual. "michael, you're drunk. just... go to bed, okay?" you feels his lips brush against your neck and shivers despite yourself , your hands moving faster with the cream, trying to hide the visible effect.

"i’m not that drunk," he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and smelling faintly of gin.

his hands slowly creep under the hem of your nightgown, fingertips tracing along your cheeks. "you always..." he trails off, kissing a spot behind your ear, his hands creeping higher. "so fucking perfect..."

despite being together for a while, you two rarely do anything sexual. the routine of your lives together—dinner, movies, casual cuddling—has somehow pushed sex to the sidelines.

he never quite initiates, and you've somehow accepted it as normal. now, with the alcohol softening his inhibitions, those buried desires are suddenly resurfacing.

you swallow hard, feeling his hands spread over your lower belly possessively. his words are making your heart pound unexpectedly.

you’ve always wondered what it would be like if he actually made a move. your voice comes out softer than intended, "michael... stop it."

"just let me feel you, baby.” he murmurs into your neck, sounding more sober by the second.

his hands travel up slowly, gently pushing the nightgown up as they go until your breasts are mostly exposed under the loose fabric. he palms them gently, thumbs brushing over nipples.

you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple again. a moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. michael takes that as an invitation, squeezing both breasts gently. "see? it feels good right?”

he kisses lower, across your shoulder blades, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. you hear the rustle of fabric as he sinks to his knees behind you, the cold bathroom tiles pressing against him.

his hands slide from your breasts down to your hips, pushing aside the nightgown pooling around your waist. “i know what else feels good, mama.”

"michael, wait—" you start to say, reaching back to grab his arm. but before you can finish the sentence, his warm, wet tongue laps at your folds, finding your clit immediately.

your words turn into a gasp, your legs trembling slightly as he begins to lick you slowly.

his hands gently spread your cheeks apart, exposing you completely. he licks a slow, wet stripe from your clit down to your asshole, making you stand on your tiptoes, nearly arching into the bathroom counter.

you let out a surprised cry, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge tightly. "michael!"

a deep, low groan vibrates against your clit as michael laps his tongue over your wetness. he murmurs against your flesh, a messy, sloppy sound. “damn... you taste like heaven," he mumbles.

ur licks slowly, deliberately from the front to the back, then drags his tongue back up. the sloppy sounds of his mouth fill the bathroom.

you’re moaning loudly, your beauty products scattered everywhere as you grip the counter for dear life.

michael’s face is buried between your cheeks, his tongue working relentlessly. he suddenly sucks hard on your clit, making you scream and push back against his face. "michael! oh my god...!"

"i knew you wanted it, baby," michael murmurs against your pussy, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit. "but i need you to show me how much. fuck my face, baby. use my tongue." he spreads your cheeks wider, giving you full access to his mouth.

you spread your legs wider, essentially riding his face from behind. your hands grip the counter tightly as you push back against his mouth, your ass rubbing against his nose and chin. loud, wet sounds fill the bathroom; his sloppy eating and your equally loud moaning. “oh baby! fuck!"

"yes, baby, just like that," michael encourages against your pussy, his words vibrating against your clit. "that’s my pretty girl. you’re fucking my mouth so good."

he reaches up, gripping your hips to pull you back harder onto his face, his tongue buried deep inside you.

you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back as michael slips a thumb inside you, pushing towards that magical spot.

he continues to eat you out enthusiastically from behind, the wet sounds of his mouth and the smacks of his thumb pushing into you filling the room along with your excited whimpers and moans.

"oh god, michael... right there," you whimper, pushing back harder against his thumb and face. "don’t stop, please don't stop..." your legs are trembling, your orgasm building rapidly. "i’m gonna cum, baby... i’m gonna cum on your face..."

"that’s it, baby. give me everything," michael commands against your flesh, his thumb pressing harder into that spot. "ride my face, fuck my mouth, cum all over my tongue. show me how much you wanted this." his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, keeping you right on the edge. "come for me, pretty girl.

your orgasm crashes over you without warning, a powerful wave that makes your legs shake violently.

you cry out michael's name, pushing back against his face as you squirt slightly - just a little wetness that adds to the mess.

your pussy clenches around his thumb while he continues to lick, drawing out every last spasm. "michael! oh my god...!"

michael shakes his head, his hard length tenting his pants as he watches your trembling legs. he licks his swollen lips, still ravenous despite your orgasm. “i’m not done," he says firmly.

before you can protest, he grabs your waist and turns you around, lifting you onto the bathroom counter. your legs fall open automatically, spread wide facing him.

michael drops back to his knees between your spread thighs, your pussy still swollen and sensitive from your orgasm. he pulls you to the edge of the counter so you're perfectly positioned.

his tongue immediately finds your clit again, licking slowly this time - savoring the taste of your orgasm. your legs shake as he resumes eating you out, relentless despite you just cumming.

you try to talk, your voice unsteady and weak. “baby wait stop," you whisper, trying to push his head away gently. "i just came, i’m really sensitive right now..." but michael doesn't stop.

he just looks up at you, and then firmly puts his hands on your thighs, pinning them down against the counter. "no mama, stay still.”

michael’s face is buried deep between your thighs, his tongue working harder than before. he’s practically sobbing into your pussy, the wet sounds of his mouth filling the bathroom.

his hands are gripping your thighs to keep you from moving as he devours you. you can feel his nose pressed against your clit, his stubble scratching your sensitive skin. "michael! baby, please—"

michael pulls you even closer, your legs hooking over his shoulders as he buries his face completely in your pussy.

his hands roam up to squeeze and caress your tits gently while he talks dirty between licks. "shh baby... just let me eat this pretty pussy..."

“michael! fuck! baby, your mouth... oh my god!” your hands fly to michael’s hair, gripping tightly as your hips start to move on their own, fucking his face. you’re pulling at his shirt desperately, your nails digging into his scalp.

michael looks up at you, his face covered in your juices as he continues to lick and suck. he praises you between mouthfuls. "look at you, riding my face, such a good girl, taking what you need—fuck, your pussy tastes so good, baby... keep fucking my mouth like that..."

michael is completely lost in the taste and feel of you. his eyes are glazed over, his movements almost robotic as he eats you out.

he’s so absorbed that he's practically drooling, swallowing your juices down like they're the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. “mmhm..."

"michael... michael i’m gonna... i’m gonna cum again—!" your words are cut off by a loud moan as your orgasm hits you like a train. your body convulses, legs shaking violently as you cum all over michael’s face.

he just keeps eating you through it, his hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you still. "shit!"

michael doesn't stop licking until your tremors subside, humming in satisfaction against your sensitive flesh. he slowly pulls back, looking up at your trembling legs and satisfied pussy with bite marks on his swollen lips. “fuck, baby... that was so hot."

michael stands up slowly, his prominent erection tenting his pants. he wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you as your legs are still shaky. "come on, let's clean you up and go to bed," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "i’m pretty tired after all that."

your eyes flutter open at his words. noticing the hardness of his cock pressing up against your thigh. “god, baby you’re so hard..here—“ you mutter just before reaching to his belt before his arm stopped you.

"baby, i’m always hard around you," michael admits with a soft laugh. "but it's not about me right now. you just had an intense orgasm. you’re tired and sensitive." he cups the underside of your jaw gently, guiding you to look at him. "let me take care of you."

you kiss him softly, appreciating his selflessness. you let him clean you up gently before you both climb into bed. michael pulls you close, spooning you from behind.

ʚɞ description: one summer night, your boyfriend michael comes home after enjoying his time at studio 54. this time, he’s a bit tipsy; the liquid courage finally allowing him to show how much he loves you.

°❀ content: 18+, smut, soft dom!michael, cunnilingus, first time, established relationship, michael wanted that cookie BAD

a/n: this just a little something, i hope yall enjoy.

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

the apartment was quiet except for the sound of the city humming outside your windows.

you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your nightgown, carefully dabbing cream onto your face when you heard the unmistakable sound of someone fighting with the front door.

not unlocking it, but fighting it. there was a clatter. a muttered “wait a minute.” another clatter and then silence.

then, triumphantly— “ha!”

you laughed to yourself before you even turned around, only michael.

a few seconds later, the front door shut, followed by the sound of footsteps making their way through the apartment. slow and dramatic footsteps.

you stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see michael appear in the doorway of your bedroom.

he looked beautiful and exhausted all at once. his dark curls were wild from dancing, his shirt was wrinkled and half untucked, and there was a rosy flush spread across his cheeks. he swayed slightly where he stood, staring at you with wide eyes.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he grinned. a huge, ridiculous grin.

“oh, wow.”

before you could ask what that meant, he stumbled toward the bed and flopped onto it face-first with an exaggerated groan.

you leaned against the doorframe, trying not to laugh. “hey, baby.”

michael lifted his head immediately. his face lit up with excitement. “hi, my love.” his voice came out soft and dreamy. “i missed you so much.”

he stretched the last word out dramatically, throwing an arm across his forehead like he’d just returned from war.

you crossed your arms. “you’ve been gone for four hours.”

he sat up. “exactly.” he nodded solemnly.

“it was horrible.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

that seemed to delight him. he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward you, smiling so hard his eyes nearly disappeared.

“everybody was loud,” he informed you, holding his hands out like he was presenting evidence. “and nobody there looked like you.”

he stopped directly behind you.

close enough that you could smell his cologne beneath the smoke and summer air clinging to his clothes.

he pressed his body up against yours, arms snaking around your waist, as his head sat comfortably on your shoulder, looking at your reflection.

he noticed your hair, and your short pink nightgown. “you got prettier.”

you blinked. “since when?” your hands softly rummaging around in your skincare bag, looking for your eye cream.

he thought about it. “since…” he tilted his head, concentrating very hard. “…tonight.”

then he burst into giggles.

you shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “how much did you drink?”

michael gasped so dramatically you thought he might actually fall over. “not that much.”

he held up his fingers and then looked at them noticing the number changing. “okay, maybe a little.”

you laughed again, and he immediately smiled wider, like that had been his goal the entire time.

without warning, he tilted his head into the warmth of your neck. “come here.” he murmured lowly.

“michael, i’m already here.”

at your somewhat shocking words, he quickly pulls away to see your reflection once again, staring at you for a second.

then he laughed so hard he had to hide his face in the coils of your hair. “oh.”

when he looked back up, his expression softened. really softened and he squeezed your hands gently. “i just wanted to come home.”

michael stands behind you in the bathroom, the buzz making his movements slow and deliberate.

he watches you through the mirror as you carefully pat eye cream under your eyes, completely unaware of the predatory look in his drunken eyes.

his fingers trace lazy patterns over your nightgown, fingertips brushing against the skin of your collarbone teasingly. "mm..." he murmurs, leaning in closer.

"you know you look so damn pretty doing this night routine," he slurs softly, his lips moving against your shoulder.

he starts kissing up your neck, his hands sliding around to grip your hips possessively. "and i know there’s nothing under this nightgown, girl." he nips at your earlobe playfully.

your face flushes crimson as you keep applying eye cream, refusing to look at him through the mirror.

your hands tremble slightly, but you try to sound casual. "michael, you're drunk. just... go to bed, okay?" you feels his lips brush against your neck and shivers despite yourself , your hands moving faster with the cream, trying to hide the visible effect.

"i’m not that drunk," he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and smelling faintly of gin.

his hands slowly creep under the hem of your nightgown, fingertips tracing along your cheeks. "you always..." he trails off, kissing a spot behind your ear, his hands creeping higher. "so fucking perfect..."

despite being together for a while, you two rarely do anything sexual. the routine of your lives together—dinner, movies, casual cuddling—has somehow pushed sex to the sidelines.

he never quite initiates, and you've somehow accepted it as normal. now, with the alcohol softening his inhibitions, those buried desires are suddenly resurfacing.

you swallow hard, feeling his hands spread over your lower belly possessively. his words are making your heart pound unexpectedly.

you’ve always wondered what it would be like if he actually made a move. your voice comes out softer than intended, "michael... stop it."

"just let me feel you, baby.” he murmurs into your neck, sounding more sober by the second.

his hands travel up slowly, gently pushing the nightgown up as they go until your breasts are mostly exposed under the loose fabric. he palms them gently, thumbs brushing over nipples.

you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple again. a moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. michael takes that as an invitation, squeezing both breasts gently. "see? it feels good right?”

he kisses lower, across your shoulder blades, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. you hear the rustle of fabric as he sinks to his knees behind you, the cold bathroom tiles pressing against him.

his hands slide from your breasts down to your hips, pushing aside the nightgown pooling around your waist. “i know what else feels good, mama.”

"michael, wait—" you start to say, reaching back to grab his arm. but before you can finish the sentence, his warm, wet tongue laps at your folds, finding your clit immediately.

your words turn into a gasp, your legs trembling slightly as he begins to lick you slowly.

his hands gently spread your cheeks apart, exposing you completely. he licks a slow, wet stripe from your clit down to your asshole, making you stand on your tiptoes, nearly arching into the bathroom counter.

you let out a surprised cry, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge tightly. "michael!"

a deep, low groan vibrates against your clit as michael laps his tongue over your wetness. he murmurs against your flesh, a messy, sloppy sound. “damn... you taste like heaven," he mumbles.

ur licks slowly, deliberately from the front to the back, then drags his tongue back up. the sloppy sounds of his mouth fill the bathroom.

you’re moaning loudly, your beauty products scattered everywhere as you grip the counter for dear life.

michael’s face is buried between your cheeks, his tongue working relentlessly. he suddenly sucks hard on your clit, making you scream and push back against his face. "michael! oh my god...!"

"i knew you wanted it, baby," michael murmurs against your pussy, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit. "but i need you to show me how much. fuck my face, baby. use my tongue." he spreads your cheeks wider, giving you full access to his mouth.

you spread your legs wider, essentially riding his face from behind. your hands grip the counter tightly as you push back against his mouth, your ass rubbing against his nose and chin. loud, wet sounds fill the bathroom; his sloppy eating and your equally loud moaning. “oh baby! fuck!"

"yes, baby, just like that," michael encourages against your pussy, his words vibrating against your clit. "that’s my pretty girl. you’re fucking my mouth so good."

he reaches up, gripping your hips to pull you back harder onto his face, his tongue buried deep inside you.

you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back as michael slips a thumb inside you, pushing towards that magical spot.

he continues to eat you out enthusiastically from behind, the wet sounds of his mouth and the smacks of his thumb pushing into you filling the room along with your excited whimpers and moans.

"oh god, michael... right there," you whimper, pushing back harder against his thumb and face. "don’t stop, please don't stop..." your legs are trembling, your orgasm building rapidly. "i’m gonna cum, baby... i’m gonna cum on your face..."

"that’s it, baby. give me everything," michael commands against your flesh, his thumb pressing harder into that spot. "ride my face, fuck my mouth, cum all over my tongue. show me how much you wanted this." his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, keeping you right on the edge. "come for me, pretty girl.

your orgasm crashes over you without warning, a powerful wave that makes your legs shake violently.

you cry out michael's name, pushing back against his face as you squirt slightly - just a little wetness that adds to the mess.

your pussy clenches around his thumb while he continues to lick, drawing out every last spasm. "michael! oh my god...!"

michael shakes his head, his hard length tenting his pants as he watches your trembling legs. he licks his swollen lips, still ravenous despite your orgasm. “i’m not done," he says firmly.

before you can protest, he grabs your waist and turns you around, lifting you onto the bathroom counter. your legs fall open automatically, spread wide facing him.

michael drops back to his knees between your spread thighs, your pussy still swollen and sensitive from your orgasm. he pulls you to the edge of the counter so you're perfectly positioned.

his tongue immediately finds your clit again, licking slowly this time - savoring the taste of your orgasm. your legs shake as he resumes eating you out, relentless despite you just cumming.

you try to talk, your voice unsteady and weak. “baby wait stop," you whisper, trying to push his head away gently. "i just came, i’m really sensitive right now..." but michael doesn't stop.

he just looks up at you, and then firmly puts his hands on your thighs, pinning them down against the counter. "no mama, stay still.”

michael’s face is buried deep between your thighs, his tongue working harder than before. he’s practically sobbing into your pussy, the wet sounds of his mouth filling the bathroom.

his hands are gripping your thighs to keep you from moving as he devours you. you can feel his nose pressed against your clit, his stubble scratching your sensitive skin. "michael! baby, please—"

michael pulls you even closer, your legs hooking over his shoulders as he buries his face completely in your pussy.

his hands roam up to squeeze and caress your tits gently while he talks dirty between licks. "shh baby... just let me eat this pretty pussy..."

“michael! fuck! baby, your mouth... oh my god!” your hands fly to michael’s hair, gripping tightly as your hips start to move on their own, fucking his face. you’re pulling at his shirt desperately, your nails digging into his scalp.

michael looks up at you, his face covered in your juices as he continues to lick and suck. he praises you between mouthfuls. "look at you, riding my face, such a good girl, taking what you need—fuck, your pussy tastes so good, baby... keep fucking my mouth like that..."

michael is completely lost in the taste and feel of you. his eyes are glazed over, his movements almost robotic as he eats you out.

he’s so absorbed that he's practically drooling, swallowing your juices down like they're the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. “mmhm..."

"michael... michael i’m gonna... i’m gonna cum again—!" your words are cut off by a loud moan as your orgasm hits you like a train. your body convulses, legs shaking violently as you cum all over michael’s face.

he just keeps eating you through it, his hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you still. "shit!"

michael doesn't stop licking until your tremors subside, humming in satisfaction against your sensitive flesh. he slowly pulls back, looking up at your trembling legs and satisfied pussy with bite marks on his swollen lips. “fuck, baby... that was so hot."

michael stands up slowly, his prominent erection tenting his pants. he wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you as your legs are still shaky. "come on, let's clean you up and go to bed," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "i’m pretty tired after all that."

your eyes flutter open at his words. noticing the hardness of his cock pressing up against your thigh. “god, baby you’re so hard..here—“ you mutter just before reaching to his belt before his arm stopped you.

"baby, i’m always hard around you," michael admits with a soft laugh. "but it's not about me right now. you just had an intense orgasm. you’re tired and sensitive." he cups the underside of your jaw gently, guiding you to look at him. "let me take care of you."

you kiss him softly, appreciating his selflessness. you let him clean you up gently before you both climb into bed. michael pulls you close, spooning you from behind.

♥︎ jaafar x black fem!reader

rating - explicit (18+)

word count - 2.1k

warnings - smut, established relationship, missionary, mating press, jaafar takes polaroids of you, he talks you through it, pet names (sweet girl, good girl, baby, princess ), hand holding, soft!dom jaafar, slight breeding kink.. uhh slight nipple sucking, pwp!

a/n : i need him so bad omfg.

content/warnings: quickie smut, jaafar's in his michael makeup, wife! reader, they're currently in tension bc theyre mad with each other, so it lowkey starts angsty but ends steamy and redemption, short but sweet, sub and whiny jaafar YES, dry humping into unprotected sex (hints at breeding kink), fem anatomy described WC: 4.1k A/N: i knew as SOON as i saw him post this picture... a fic was incoming LOL. also, i've been getting lots and lots of questionable and hate comments under my account and i'm here to tell all the haters that this is not the page to do so. i will cuss you out AND block you!

You’ve been gnawing at your lip for what seemed the entire car ride- 45 minutes to be exact. You were unsure whether even coming to see your husband at work was the right idea, especially right now. But it was a tradition you both had built since he began filming, and you weren’t planning to break it just because you happened to be mad at him. 

The argument started two nights ago over something that should’ve been small but has grown slightly. Due to Jaafar’s new movie, Michael, being a family-oriented production, much of the funding came directly from the Jackson family. Thankfully, most of the older family members had their wealth secured and set, and didn’t dig too deep when investing their funds. The second generation, such as the Jacksons’ kids, including Jaafar, weren’t as wealthy. They had their privileges, of course, but most of the money they made was earned individually. Jaafar had built his wealth through music production and occasional film score composing. 

When you got married, you agreed that any major financial decisions would be made together. That was the smartest and most conscious decision. For the five years you two have been married, that deal has been kept. A couple of days ago, however, you received a phone call from your accountant, who let you know that a very large sum had been removed from your account and transferred to someone else. When you double-checked with her to assure it was a mistake, she let you know that Jaafar had signed off on it.  You looked into it, and it turns out, Jaafar had contributed his own investment into the film, without double-checking with you. It made your stomach twist with irritation and hurt, but you chose to brush it off till he got home that evening. 

You were at the kitchen table, dinner in hand, as the front door opened. Jaafar walked in, throwing his hoodie on the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen. “Hey, baby.” He muttered and reached to press a kiss on your face. You turned slightly, lips hitting your hair instead. 

His eyebrows rose in confusion, but he brushed it off, turning to the sink to wash his hands. He took a quick glance at you, searching for anything that could alert him to why you hadn’t greeted him back. “How was your day today?” 

You shrugged, food no longer looking appetizing. You set the fork down and picked up the glass of juice. “Could’ve been better.” Jaafar sets his plate down, arms holding his upper body up against the marble-grained countertop. “Why’s that?” 

“Why did you take 1 million dollars out of our account and give it to the Estate?” You curtly say, pivoting your body towards Jaafar. You point to the flat screen of your phone against the table, lip twitching in uncertainty. You hated confrontation, and doing it with your favorite person made you hate them even more. 

He sighs, shaking his head. He parts his mouth, ready to give an explanation even he knows isn’t enough for you to just leave it alone. “You know my family’s all giving their own shares. I thought it’d be necessary if I did too.” 

“Without checking with me?” 

“I didn’t think I needed to. With filming going on, we needed more funds for some reshoots we’re doing. I thought it was obvious.” 

You scoff, standing from your chair. You stride towards the kitchen, across from Jaafar as he keeps his gaze on you. “We have been asking each other about that kind of stuff for 5 years, Jaafar. Why would it change now?”

He shrugs his shoulders, and his unwillingness to even pretend he can’t see where you’re coming from begins to make your blood boil, but you cross your legs, holding onto the counter for some sort of support, at least. 

“I get you want to help your family out, and it is your movie, but you have to let me know. I cannot see that kind of money just being transferred out of our account with no explanation.” 

“It’s just money. We’ll get it back, I promise.” “That’s not the point I’m trying to make, Jaafar, and you know it. It’s the fact that you did it without checking with me first.”

Jaafar picks up his plate and fills it with food. You stand, baffled, unsure whether he was done talking to you. He walks behind you, taking his seat in the chair at the table. You turn, hands raising in confusion. “Are we done discussing this?”

“We’re not discussing anything. You’re arguing with me about it while I’m trying to explain my side.”

“No one’s trying to argue, babe. I’m just letting you know I didn’t feel comfortable with that happening.” 

He sighs, eyes closing as he rests his head in his palms, breathing without structure. You cross your arms, feeling defeated. “And I’m letting you know what it’s for. I’m not asking for the money back; we need it. The movie needs it. I need it.”

There’s a slight crack in his voice as he speaks, and you know the pressure of everything is on him. It’s in the tired creases around his melancholy eyes, under the plumpness of his chapped lips. It’s in the small bruises in his hands and knees, dancing for hours till his toes bleed in pleas for a break. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s belittling your side of the conversation, so you muster all the courage inside you to shake your head, foot tapping against the tiles under your slippers. “I understand that. I do, I really do. But that amount of money is huge. There’s no excuse for that. We’ve been talking about wanting to try for children soon, yet you make decisions like this behind my back without consulting me first. That hurts, J.” 

“It’ll play out when the movie comes out. That money will come back, and more.”

You suppress an eye roll and shrug your shoulders. “Can you even try to apologize and see where I’m coming from?”

“I do see your side, baby, I do. But please, for the sake of peace, see mines too.” 

Your heart hurts. You understand he’s deflating the way he is because of pressure, exhaustion, and confusion. But you know you’re right, too. And neither of you is willing to recognize each other’s explanations right now. You take a deep breath and raise your hand. “Fine, then. For the sake of peace, sleep in the guest room.” And with that, you give him one last disappointed look before walking away. For a second, you think he’ll apologize and come after you. But in the next second, your steps stay lonely. 

The next morning, Jaafar doesn’t say anything to you before he leaves. He brews you a mug of coffee, but doesn’t leave a note or even bother sending a text message throughout the day to check up on you, like he usually does. You knew the argument could’ve been fixed with a simple apology from him, and maybe a rational thought from you as well, but it was puerile behavior from the two of you now. You reciprocate the same energy by not making him dinner that evening and staying by the pool until he falls asleep. You walked by the guest room and took a quick peek inside. He’s asleep, still dressed in his clothes, even having his shoes on. He’s shivering, and he’s holding the throw pillow tight in his hands. The sight makes your insides turn, in regret and empathy. You shake your head to yourself and walk inside, softly pulling the pillow to the floor. You reach to take his shoes off, and hold his sole carefully, aware of the blisters covering his toes. You throw the blanket on his body, giving his thigh a squeeze before walking away. 

“I love you.” His voice is dazed, interrupting your attempt to quietly leave the room. 

You hold onto your chest before breathing softly. “I love you. Night.” Your voice is fragile, and even as Jaafar’s hardly awake, he heeds the pain in your voice. It makes the guilt soothe him even more, and he closes his eyes, afraid that if he keeps them open, he’ll shatter into a million pieces. 

•┈┈

You park your car in the parking garage, taking a deep breath and holding onto the bag you’ve brought with you. You brought one of Jaafar’s favorite foods, a crispy chicken sandwich from the Honor Bar. It was where he took you for your first date, and you’ve been bringing him lunch every week, as a way to see him amid all the busy hours throughout the work days. 

The crew members greet you as always, giving you polite gestures as you walk through the halls with your bags in hand. Your pass is wrapped around your neck, and you check the time on your watch before stopping in front of Jaafar’s door. You bring a hesitant hand to the door before taking a breath, knocking softly against the wood. You wait a beat before opening the door, and feel the breath you’ve been holding in release on its own. Your occupied hand trembles, and you feel your body betraying you as you force your mouth shut. 

Jaafar is in front of his vanity, a small mirror mounted on the wall, with bright, intense lights highlighting the details of his face. He’s dressed so elegantly, still in costume. His makeup and hair still intact, and despite visiting him for so long, you’ve never actually seen him in costume. Not so still, at least. And alone. 

You hate the fact that there’s a flicker of disbelief in his face, one that he masks with relief. You give him a small smile and clear your throat. “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” 

“You look shocked to see me here. Not sure I like that.” You close the door and turn the lock as you take a seat on the couch across from Jaafar. 

He opens his mouth, gazing into your eyes as he removes the sparkling white glove from his hand. “I figured we’d still be… you know. I think I didn’t want to get my hopes up.” 

There’s a small scoff that escapes from you, but you follow it with a tut. You cross your legs, tapping your fingers against your knee. “How are your hopes now?” 

Jaafar bites his inner lip, tugging at the tag on his pants as a distraction. “Undeserving.” 

You take his mutter into consideration, cognizant of the tone as he waited for your response. You hum, dipping your head as your eyes remain locked with his. “We have to talk about it eventually. Now, preferably. I don’t want our food to get cold.” 

He softly breaths, an attempt at expressing a sense of humor, but he’s too emotional to do so. “I’m sorry for my behavior these past few days. For a while, actually.” You give him a nod, an acknowledgment of the understanding of what he means. 

“The process for creating this film, and bringing it to life, has become such an overwhelming process. I got so wrapped up in trying to figure things out the way all these experienced people have done before that I thought I could do it, too. In doing so, I went against our core vows and have hurt you in the process. That was never my intention, baby. I truly am so sorry for the way I've acted over the past few days. I gave you space because I know we both needed that more than anything. But I missed you so fucking much, I was going crazy.” Jaafar’s voice cracks numerous times, and he feels the top of his lip wet with several tears. He doesn’t care to let the emotion come to life, because he deserves to feel the regret he came to terms with the moment he saw you walk away. 

There’s no sound in the room besides your heavy breathing, and it takes every restrictive power in you to stop you from standing and shoving Jaafar’s delicate face into your chest. The tears streaming down his face break you so gently. You taste the sweat under your chin as you bring it to your lips, moving anxiously under Jaafar’s red eyes. 

“I’m sorry for not being willing to see your side, baby. I think I always did, but I was mad at you for being so stubborn.” You whisper, eyes slightly dipping in mendacious tautness as your husband gives you a concurring nod. 

He dabs at his face, attempting to wipe any tears off his prosthetics before he continues speaking. “You wouldn’t have to feel that way if it weren’t for me. I’m so sorry, sweet girl.” 

The nickname breaks you of any restraint, and your body rises before your mind alerts you. You close the short distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around Jaafar’s sequenced shoulders, rubbing at any previous rigidness with consoling devotion and pardon. He feels the way only your unique and soothing touch can bring him back to life fully, and he closes his eyes, a quiet moan escaping him. It was quiet under the heavy breathing that was transpiring from his mouth, which you almost didn’t catch. Almost. 

“Now, now, I forgive you, baby. I missed you, too.” There’s a commanding intonation in the manner you hum against Jaafar’s styled hair, and suddenly the friction between the two of you grows desperate. This was secretly your favorite part after all the worries are no more, and the things you have said to one another are gone. Somehow, it always got to that point. Where sincere apologies are made, and you drop the authoritarian act, and become authoritative. The anger is no longer quiet screaming, but instead moans of passion. In some way, you sometimes wonder if this unbreakable habit is wrong, but it always gets to that point somehow. Where your clothes become half-off, and all the pent-up frustration becomes released through ruts and rushed kisses.  

There’s a twitch in Jaafar’s hardening cock as he hears the tone in your seductive syllables, and he forces his hand against the pinch of your waist to relax. He slightly pulls his head away from your chest and throws his head back. “We’re done filming for the day, in this costume. I’m ‘posed to be taking this makeup off, actually.” 

You hum in reply to his piteous mumble and bring your fingers across Jaafar’s face, fixating on every detail of his features. The makeup team took their time in ensuring his face was exact to what his uncle’s details were, and you ran your fingers extra carefully on the parts you noticed were made with additional caution. It was something so alluring about seeing Jaafar in this costume and makeup- it was almost like it was another version of him you never knew you could access. But having him under your touch, legs on either side of his perfectly built thighs, made your core begin to moist with seduction and satisfaction- a guilty pleasure, if truth be told. “Is that so? And here I was, having some time to watch how beautiful you look in that makeup.”

Jaafar would never get used to the way you would confidently call his beauty out. He knew he was a pretty man, but hearing the words come out of your lips, the ones he loved to run his tongue against, was another form of a tantalizing rush down his cock, quickening his pulse until his mind would become foggy, control no longer his. “Can you help me take it off, then? Please, baby?” 

A double glance at the locked door is all it takes for your lips to crash against Jaafar’s. Your tongue swirls against his, desperate savoring evident in your hoarse exhales. Your hands run along the back of his head, textured curls tangled in between your fingers. There’s a soft piece caught between your ring as you pull, which makes Jaafar whine. The cry is frenzied, and a smirk crawls on your lips. His hands began to fondle with whatever plumpness of your body he could find, wanting to capture whatever he could knead. 

Every clash against your mouth is an unspoken plea Jaafar begs for sonorously. He needs more, and despite the wetness of his pre-cum you feel against the material of your bottoms, the distance is too much. He knows there’s a time limit that the two of you have to fool around before work begins again, and the warmth that circulates throughout his body is enough sampling to thrill him for more. He takes a shameful swallow before lifting his hips up, readjusting himself in the chair, and gripping onto your hip bone. He laps at your lip as he moves your body against his own, the drag of your clothed cunt against his own cock melting flawlessly. You grind onto his lap with erratic snaps, eyes rolling back with elation. The thrums against your skin become too much, and you pull off your top, crashing Jaafar’s face into your chest. He does his job in nipping at the softness of your breasts, ensuring a mark is left with a desperate lick. His patterns become overstimulating, so you pull down your bra and keen in roil as his teeth graze over your nipples. 

Jaafar silently begs to whoever is listening to his intoxicating mind to allow him to remain in this bliss forever. His eyes trace over the transfer of his makeup against the sweat on your skin, and that sight is the most captivating thing he’s ever seen on you. He feels his hair stick onto his skin, but his focus remains on the bounce of your breasts, every hump against the curve of his cock enveloping him in a trance he never wants to snap out of, not even when he feels his release begin to build up. 

You feel the metal of his zipper hit your clothed pussy, and the sensation makes your button tingle with electricity. You feel your slick continue to swell, pleating against your folds. Your jerks are intense, like a personal workout your body appreciates you’ve decided to take. Your eyes open for a slight minute, stuck on the way, Jaafar’s eyes remain riveted on your body. You let out a sharp intake of breath, feeling a tiny bit of drool threaten to escape from the side of your mouth. The consciousness only grows because Jaafar’s eyes begin to well up with tears. Overstimulating tears, the ones that you know he’ll let out the second your walls enclose around his bare cock. 

He gives a soft croak as his eyes dip, greed entering his body as he cups your breast. “More, more, more.” Every whine is hasty, yearning for a release. He doesn’t care that his underwear will be sticky once he pulls it down his legs, or the fact that the very expensive costume pants he’s wearing will be ruined with your slick. Jaafar’s only focus is on the rapid darts of his tongue on you. He watches the way your mouth parts open, your head bobbing with every lap he gives you.  

He feels the release threatening to snap, so he uses all his force to grip onto your hips even harsher, approving of every pornographic bounce you lay on him. “I need to cum.” He whines against your skin, and you bring your mouth to his ear, softly licking his lobe as your hand runs down his neck and onto his jacket, gripping the material beneath it. The small conscious part of your mind is aware he’s still in costume, and will most likely have to return it once he’s done using it. 

The bigger portion of your consciousness, however, only cares about the intense throbs of your cunt, because you give him a laudatory nod, melting at the way your skin burns so perfectly under Jaafar’s reckless hold. Your husband instantly uses his green light and cries, moaning like an animal in heat as his release fills his pants, wet and slick, and begins to run through onto your thighs. Your release comes seconds after, and your bounces slow down, legs spasming with exhaustion. 

Your heavy breaths blend, and you bring your hand hurriedly to his pants, unzipping the material, fingers wetting with Jaafar’s cum. You bring a finger rapidly to your mouth and lick it, humming at the taste. Jaafar swears he feels more spill out of his tip, so he brings his hands to help pull his cock out as you stand and step out of your pants, not caring to do the same with your panties. You pull those to the side and keep one hand on Jaafar’s shoulder, breath hitched as you sink down on his cock. Every inch is an eyeroll you give, and before you know it, you’re both immediately swallowed by warmth. There’s a hint of pain, so you use the adjustment to his size to bring your lips to his neck, licking at his sweet spot.

“Thank you, my sweet girl. Thank you.” The tightness disappears into pleasure, and you move slowly. You begin to grind against his shaft, building up slick before you begin to quicken your pace. His hands come up to your face, and your features fit so perfectly against his large palms.

“You’re doing so good for me, for us, my baby. I love you. You always do so great. I admire you, my sweet love.” Every word hits you deeper than his cock, and your body instinctively begins to build an unrelenting tempo, every ride against his perfect cock massaging your walls. It makes your body yearn for more, more than what you’re bucking for.

Every bounce on him becomes a precise beat, hips smacking against one another at the same time. Your fingers run under Jaafar’s eyes, tears slickening them as you softly smirk. “All these tears, just for me, hm?” 

He nods without hesitation, cock hitting every spot so perfectly. “Yes, m’am.” Oh god, could he be any more perfect for you? You hum against his skin, watching the ways his curls move against the rhythm you’ve both set, and it makes you fuse grow even quicker. 

Jaafar grips both sides of your hips, eyes focused on the way his cock slips in and out of you. Watching the way your cunt is so perfectly stuffed by him, it makes his hunger grow. He takes hold of the control, thrusting himself into you with pounds so heavy and filling, you feel it penetrate you mercilessly. His mouth opens before he can think about what he’s about to say, yet he feels no regret. “I want to cum inside you and put a baby in you. Can I do that? Please? Will you let me stuff you full, sweet girl?” Your moans become inconsolable, and you nod your head, unwilling to care about the reality of what this will mean for both of you. Your legs begin to shudder, and you give warning taps against Jaafar’s face as he nods. 

His thrusts become frantic, wanting to make sure you feel the need in every vein inside you, in every rut as he begins to fill you. He directs your hand to your nipple, and you pinch it, and your vision becomes spotty. Your mouth parts, and your back arches as Jaafar’s hips jerk against you. His whines grow louder, and you take every single one in memory as he spills inside you, painting you like a piece he wishes to admire forever. His tired eyes come down to your opening, and he watches in awe as his release spills outside your cunt and down your legs. 

You fall onto his chest, knees limp as Jaafar brings his hands to your back, soothing it in a familiar pattern. A wave of aftershock washes over you for some time, so you’re silent, body slightly twitching from the sputters undone. 

Jaafar pulls your head off his chest with care, pressing kisses against your face as he whispers comforting praises. It makes you melt, and your walls begin to flutter as he softly twitches inside you. His pupils are dilated, and the sight of his wet, dark, beautiful eyes makes you lean forward, relaxing your mouth against his. 

“Sweet girl.” He mutters against you, stroking the softness of your neck as your breathing calms down, no longer past the normal beat. 

Type: One Shot

Genre: Smut (18+)

Pairing: Jaafar Jackson x Reader

Tags: Jaafar Jackson, one night stand, Public, celebrity x fem reader

Summary: You are a seat filler at the BET Awards and happened to be seated next to Jaafar.

a/n: been a bit since I posted Jaafar, and tonight he looked extra scrumptious.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You give yourself one last glance in the mirror as you smooth your dress and fidget with the part of your hair that refuses to cooperate. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as excitement and disbelief battle in your mind.

You were really going to the BET Awards.

When you filled out the seat filler application months ago, it was really just a joke...you had too much wine and thought why not? You never thought they'd actually choose you.

But yet, here you are. In a dress that hugs your curves just right, the illusion of designer despite the dress being terribly out of season. But no one there needed to know that.

BET had booked your hotel, but that was where their generosity ended. All alone you did your hair, found your dress, and figured out transportation. Every dollar spent carefully and no corners were cut. Despite being on a budget you were not going to look a fool.

With one long breath, you grab your clutch, finally slide your heels on and head for the door. In the Hotel parking lot your car sticks out like a sore thumb. Your beat up Honda Civic waits for you looking like Cinderella's carriage after midnight.

It may be worn but it's yours.

You laugh to yourself as you hop in carefully to not ruin your dress. The car lags a bit before starting. It takes a bit longer than usual to start you note but at least she still starts.

The ride there was hell. You didn't understand the LA traffic, you had to fight your GPS, and you severely underestimated how hot it could get in the oven you mistake for a car.

But when you finally make it, you make it. Did the security believe you were allowed in at first with that car? No. Did it take an extra fifteen minutes to convince them? Yes. But all that didn't matter now.

You stand in the venue taking in the sight. The theater was beautiful high ceilings and large glass windows. Black marble floors and an echo.

At a table that had the sign: Seat-Fillers, you signed in. A stern older woman gives you a refresher on your role and your seat number. You were here to laugh and clap. Do not talk to the celebrities unless spoken to and of course enjoy the show.

You giddily search for your seat, hoping for a good view. The theater is empty say for people like you sprinkling in, no A-listers or models just yet. Excitement buzzes through you once you do find your seat. It's not bad, obviously you are way in the back in the lower balcony, third row closest to the ground. Decent enough.

When you finally sit down you note two things. One, these seats are really comfortable, and two, you are really nervous. It finally hits that you will be surrounded by people you grew up watching on TV. Granted they probably won't notice you, but to be sitting around them for free? Crazy.

Your mind wonders with who will be sitting next to you. You drag your palms down your thighs the quell all the nerves jostling inside. Phones are allowed, so you pull yours out and check the time. You are really early, the show doesn't start for a few hours. It's better to be early than late but how would you kill the time?

It's not like you're glued to your seat just yet so you decide to explore the theater. You find the bathrooms for just in case, and also the cafe where they are selling ridiculously overpriced muffins and finger foods. You snap photos of pretty architecture and statues. Before you know it, you successfully killed an hour.

You go back to your seat for the remainder of the time. Your heart beats in your ears as you see familiar faces fill the room. You can't help the smile that creeps up your face as your idols find their seats. Your heart lurches every time one gets close but never sits down.

After another hour or so, some of your excitement dies as the seat next to yours remains empty. The show is about to start and still no owner of the chair.

Disappointment lines your stomach. You are forever grateful for the opportunity of course but you just hoped...Oh well.

The show starts and your disappointment fleas out the door. The energy in the room was none like any other. You sprung to your feet immediately, your hands clapping together with excitement.

Being on this side of things was so strange. You see the camera men scaling the crowd, you hear the slight audio delay of the host, you feel the bass in your chest. The bass so deep it made you slightly light headed.

The first award was presented by Jaafar Jackson and Nia Long. Your breath was stolen at the sight of them. They were extremely gorgeous, you couldn't fathom that they were real.

It was like a trance seeing them on stage, when the pair finally exited the stage, the breath clogging your chest eased. Suddenly you can breathe again.

That feeling would grab tight onto you many more times but not like that.

After a performance there was a five minute break. You sit down, toes crying inside the torture device also known as high heels. You relax into your seat, letting your back breathe as well. A low ache pulses through your body as you relax.

"Is this seat taken?" A voice says from your right.

You snap back into your more presentable mask.

"Uh–nope! I mean no, it isn't," you fumble with your words.

Silently you curse yourself out because that was not the cool and unbothered girl you promised yourself you'd be.

"Can I sit here?" He says.

When you finally compose yourself, you get a better look at the figure talking idly in front of you.

Your blood runs cold as your mind pieces together who this was.

Jaafar Jackson.

It was Jaafar Jackson and he was asking to sit next to you.

"Sure," you huff, disbelief clinging to your lungs.

He smiles and thanks you.

"Jaafar," he turns to you, his hand stretched out.

"I know," you breathe and shake his hand.

He chuckles to himself before turning to face the stage. The break was over. Your starstruck haze wasn't but you knew you had to pull yourself out of it and quick.

You sit next to Jaafar Jackson, extremely hyperaware of his every move. Every time he clapped quietly or every low chuckle that was meant for only him to hear.

Here and there you sneak little glances at him. He looks extremely good in person in his navy suit. The color looks amazing against his skin. Skin that is clearer than your vision.

Every side glance made your heart somersault.

At another break, the adrenaline of the night subsides and fatigue cradles your bones.

"I'm so tired," you groan aloud.

"Me too," Jaafar agrees.

You realize you said that out loud. Panic and embarrassment coat your cheeks scarlet.

"Oh my–I didn't mean to say that out loud. I'm so sorry," you scramble.

"No, it's okay. I get it. These things are so long," Jaafar confides in you.

And he was right. No break was long enough. Tiredness plays at the backs of your eyes the more you slip into relaxing around him.

"I had no idea," you say.

"It's going to be a long night," he chuckles.

It's the best sound you ever heard. It makes you feel comfortable. Your shoulders ease, your posture not as stiff. After the break, you two slip into enjoying the show together. Laughing and clapping to music as if you were friends.

As someone performs on stage, Jaafar leans over to you.

"Wanna bounce?" He asks, his eyes completely fixed on you.

You lean closer to him to hear him but despite the proximity the words don't seem the process.

"Huh?"

"Want to go somewhere else?" He asks again.

You glance around because surely he wasn't talking to you. You point at yourself and he nods with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Yes, you," He confirms.

He slips your hand into his. Your hand becomes alive at the contact. Your eyes fix on where his skin meets yours.

Was this allowed? Could you really just leave?

You slowly drag your eyes to meet his.

Your answer formed before you could ever think it through properly.

"Okay," you agree.

Jaafar's smile grows at your acceptance. He takes you by the hand and gently drags you out the theater. Your mind racing as he takes you beyond what you had access to before. No idea what location or what the two of you would do.

You found it hard to care when this handsome man you only dreamed of talking to has his hand in yours, pulling you into this secluded lounge area.

"Isn't it beautiful," Jaafar says his eyes trained on you as you take in the sight.

It was a little room with one giant window that out looks the bay. Dark wooden shelves that hold books, Hollywood relics, and sculptures. A chandelier hangs above your head, casting a warm yellow light across the room.

"Yes," you say breathlessly. Walking toward the window first.

"What's this place?" you ask.

"Not sure, I found it when I was coming from the dressing rooms. Thought it was really beautiful and wanted to show someone."

Your eyes fix on how the water sparkles as the moon dances on each ripple.

"Thanks for bring me here," you tell him.

You turn to face him, and regret doing so. He looked too handsome and too untouchable standing just a few feet away from you. His eyes catch on your body as the moon illuminates your curves.

You drop eye contact first. The floor was easier and safer option. If you kept looking into those deep espresso eyes, unrealistic thoughts would continue to ghost your mind. Thoughts of touching him. Thoughts of lips on lips. Hands to body.

Just the thought makes your body heat. Every passing second your dress feels tighter and tighter. When you look up again because you love to torture yourself, you notice he's closer.

The look in his eyes is different that before. It's heavier. You could see thoughts swirling in his mind but wanted the key to unlock them. To know what thoughts play in his beautiful head.

He takes another step closer while you remain glued to the floor. Your body turns feverish the closer he gets. He invades your space without permission until he's all you can see in front of you.

Slyly he snakes a hand around your waist, your eye catching at the movement. Jaafar pulls you closer in. You feel his body heat radiating off him on your chest.

"You know, I think you're really pretty," Jaafar whispers in your ear, his voice tickling your skin.

The tone makes your body heady and heavy. Your chest rises and falls in an uneven pattern.

"You do?" you ask, your voice matching his with a hint more breath.

"Mhm," He hums.

Nasty thoughts dance around your mind again. The longer you are in his presence, the less you care about the rules.

His other hand snakes to hold the other side of your waist.

Eyes lock into dangerous contact as his face hovers above yours. Your body buzzes alive under the darkened contact. A conversation is being had with no words. You dare him to come closer as your eyes lazily drag over the lines of his face, drinking in every perfect detail.

His face hovers close enough where his nose ghosts yours. Your lips just a whisper away from his. Almost urging your lips to connect with his but you hesitate. When he pushes forward you inch back. So when you push your lips toward his he mimics your action.

Your heart feels like it might just explode the longer you dance around what you really want.

Since you have never been the patient type, you press your lips closer to his urging him to connect them. And when he does? It's like pouring water on a small fire. Just the pressure of his lips on yours makes you feel faint with desire.

The second time his lips hits yours, it's slow and hesitant but all consuming. You are the one that opens the kiss. Tired from walking on eggshells all event you finally take charge and do what you want no regrets. You grab on to his suit jacket as the kiss gets deeper and hungrier.

He slowly waddles you backwards until your back hits the cool glass. It feels like ice against your inflamed skin.

Jaafar's large firm hands grip the sides of your face as you kiss him messily. Your hands grab possessively at the crook of his neck, nails digging into his skin. The charged air fills with the forbidden sounds of lips smacking. Jaafar's mouth prys yours open with more force than you'd take him for. You can tell he's hungry for you. So hungry, he decides he needs more of you. He hurriedly kisses down your neck as his hands explore you.

He scrapes his teeth up your neck before kissing the tender skin. Every touch makes your body hypersensitive. The need pooling between your legs is embarrassing, your thighs are slick with your arousal under your dress.

Jaafar gathers the edge of your dress to get access to you. Just the ghost of his hand against your cunt almost sends you over. When his hands do find your dripping sex it's like cold water at 3 am. You fall over him when his fingers graze your clit.

"Wow you're so wet for me," he whispers in your ear.

A low jagged moan escapes your throat that was equal part embarrassment and turned on.

His fingers circle your clit as his lips continue to attack your neck. Your body pressed against the window. It's the most shameful thing you've ever done and you don't want him to stop ever.

"More," you plea.

Without much friction (because that's how wet you are) he shoved two collapsed fingers inside you. You moan as the tips of his fingers graze your g-spot upon entrance.

"Fuuuuck," you drawl.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fingers you. He rocks his fingers at a pace that has your toes curling in your heels. Your body so alive you completely forget about the ache dull in your feet from your shoes.

Your cunt clenches around his fingers as you get closer. You grab a fist full of his suit to steady yourself, you bite your lower lip to quickly yourself.

He lifts your chin, making you connect eyes with him.

"Let me hear you," he gently instructed.

You listen, slowly letting your bottom lip go. If you got caught at least you lived miles away.

His hand rocked faster as the ghosts of your orgasm whisper in your ears. Your eyes never leave his as he coaxes you inside an orgasm none like any other. A watery shriek escapes your throat. You feel your juices flood his fingers.

"You're so beautiful," he moans before crashing his lips onto yours harshly.

You fiddle with this pants, needing more. Jaafar throws his jacket on the floor. He must feel the same way because his hands join your hurried ones to expose his aching erection. When it spring out you see how bad he wants you. He lets you pump it. Jaafar's brows furrow as he moans lowly.

"I need you inside me," you begged. Your voice so banged it was unrecognizable to yourself. You'd think harder on it if it wasn't for the animalistic want invading your mind.

A groan escapes his throat as he picks up. His cock slips inside you like he was made for you. He's long and perfectly thick. He fills you nicely.

Your decorum and last slither of shame fade away each time he thrusts into you. Your moans get louder and wetter. His do too. It makes you feel powerful as you make him break the composed mask to puts on for the world.

The man in front of you completely juxtaposes the polite, and often quiet man in the interviews or clips you see. He's ragged and loud as he chases each thrust that feels better than the last. With this angle he's hitting spots that make you see stars.

Your body drags vertically on the glass of the window, your bodily fluids coat a greasy layer. You wondered how crazy–how hot you two look from the windows point of view. How the moonlight illuminates all the nastier parts of you.

Jaafar drags your top down to reveal your breast. Your nipples harden immediately. His hands grip hard around them, his fingers play with the sensitive bud. As if it was to over stimulate you, he kisses your neck again. Biting and sucking this time. Claiming you.

Even if you never see him after tonight, a small part of you will be his. Right now you are his. His cock pistons into you at a mechanical pace you come all over it again. You shake and clench down around him.

He continues as tears roll down your face. He kisses and licks them away. He kisses you again, it's passionate and reassuring. His tongue swipes over your teeth then deeper in your mouth as if he was on a mission to explore every part of you there was.

"I'm almost there," Jaafar promises you, his words wiggly as he fights moans that scrape his throat.

You cry out because you can't take anymore. He feels far too good all over your body. You feel like your body might just collapse at some point. Your finger nails dig underneath his dusty navy button up.

Your body shocks you when another orgasm rolls through you when he slows down. Jaafar's thrusts slow down to a clinical rhythm as if he easing his release. He hisses in your ears as you feel his cock twitch inside you. You rock your hips into his to help coax his own release.

You hold onto him tightly as he shoots thick hot ropes of cum inside of you with a loud guttural cry. You kiss just below his eye softly. You feel him shake underneath you. He needed this release just like you did.

The two of you stand there bodies intertwined, breaths mingled, and clothes ajar.

The haze cloud induced by Jaafar turns into a fog as you come down from this high. Your chest still heaves but you feel clearer head enough to finally peal off of him.

"That was the best sex I've had in a while," you puff as you pat him on the shoulder.

You put much needed distance between the two of you as you do your best to make yourself look presentable. You put your boob back in your dress. You pull your dress down so that it falls just above your toes.

"Me too..." he huffs.

In a mirror near by you fix what's left of your makeup and hair.

"Thank you for a magical night," you tell him, voice light. You lean over to kiss his cheek.

"So that's it? I won't see you again?" his voice betraying him.

"You wanted too..?"

"Yes," he answers quickly, he notices it to, you see red ghosting his cheeks.

"Oh," you murmur.

You didn't think that was possible. You don't see how it. You don't live here and he's busy.

Jaafar hands cup your face again, and you allow yourself to melt into him. He kisses you with intention that screams I'm not letting you go that easily.

Even after having sex with him, he still managed to make you feel like a school girl with a crush. When the kiss breaks, you don't dare meet his eyes.

"Please put your number in my phone and answer when I call," He pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to you.

You note that his contact list is fairly short before you add your name and number.

"I'll go back first," Jaafar checks his watch, "they are probably going to wrap up soon."

Right. The Award show. The reason why you met him in the first place.

history! michael jackson x gf! reader

tw: 18+ mdni, pure smut, thigh riding him when he wears his gold pants, mutual masturbation, p in v, cream pie, overstimulation, use of “mama”

wc: 838

Summary: A quiet late afternoon at Michael’s home while the Jacksons are away on a trip for a few days. Michael decides to stay behind, craving some peaceful time alone, and invites his lady over to spend those days with him. It’s exactly what he wanted—just the two of you, alone and at peace. As Michael sits on the floor, quietly reading his book, you lie on your stomach across his bed, admiring your beautiful boyfriend… who happens to be looking a little too beautiful.

Contains: Thriller!Michael x Reader - Floor sex - Mirror sex - Dry humping - p in v - Uprotected sex - Multiple orgasm (2 IS multiple idc)- Established relationship - Softdom!Reader - Cumming inside - Praise kink (if you squint hard enough) MDNI! 18+

WC : 1.6k

——————————————————————————————————————

Author’s Note: I Had one hell of a day and I couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario. Excuse me i got a little carried away wrote this half angry—-half horny…and surprisingly I actually very much like this.

——————————————————————————————————————

The sunset shine peaks through the closed blinds of Michael's room, casting long, amber streaks across the floor. He lies on the ground with his back rested against the wall, his legs long and crossed, deeply immersed in a book. Michael loves reading, a passion you know intimately.

You lie on his bed on your stomach, your head resting in your hand as you watch him. Your own book has bored you enough to make you look up, and God, he looks beautiful. His curls fall gently above his forehead, his doe eyes focused intently on the paper in his hands.

You watch the way his slender hands delicately flip the page, and you find yourself biting your bottom lip softly, lost in admiration of your love.

“I do feel your gaze on me, y’know that right?”

He smiles, lifting his head to meet your eyes with a knowing hint.

“Well, it’s not my fault you look so damn good,” you state, holding your head high with a playful grin.

“Matter of fact.” You slide off the bed, making your way toward him. You settle yourself atop him, cradling your legs beside his as you find a comfortable position sitting in his lap.

“Now you can read,” you chuckle, teasing him.

“That’s ain’t fair, mama,” he smiles, his eyes looking so damn hypnotizing in the dimming light.

“Don’t stop reading on my account! I’d hate to have left you on a cliffhanger.”

Michael scoffs softly, but he allows you to feast your head against his chest. His arm rests above your shoulder, still clutching his book, while his other hand begins caressing the soft skin of your back.

As you look up at him, you can’t help the sudden, primal need to press a peck against his bare neck. Michael winces at the sensation, a soft, breathy sound escaping his lips. You feel the heat growing between you, and it is already too late to stop yourself.

You cradle your arms around him and slowly begin to kiss his neck, your intent shifting toward leaving a mark. You bite the soft flesh lightly; he tilts his head back, his focus shattered, and the book drops to the floor, long forgotten now that you are sitting in his lap.

Michael’s hands slide down from your shoulders to find your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you against him, erasing every inch of space between your bodies.

Needy to bring you closer. He rests the back of his head against the wall, his breath hitching as you continue to suck on the tender, sensitive skin of his neck. The heat radiating from him is intoxicating, a feverish warmth that makes your own skin tingle with lust.

When you finally let go to catch breathe breath once lost, your lips leave a glistening trail of saliva on his collarbone.

“Don’t wanna read no more?” you tease, your voice a low, sultry purr

“Stop pestering me...” Michael murmurs, looking away as a shy, breathless smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Your face hovers mere inches from his, your breath mingling with his as you tease him, teasing the tension until he is practically begging for a kiss.

When you finally give in, you fall into him hungrily, yet ever so sweetly, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his mouth on yours.

His body reacts instinctively, his arms tightening around you as if he wants to consume you whole, pulling you into the very core of his being.

The friction between you becomes unbearable as you feel his hips begin to grind upward, a desperate, rhythmic motion driven by a need for release.

Reacting to the friction, your body moves forward, your hips rolling and grinding against the growing, hard bulge growing against the fabric of his clothes. Your pussy aching for a release.

“Fuuuckk...” Michael exhales, the word breaking through the wet, rhythmic sounds of your frantic kissing. Both of you are a gasping, trembling mess, lost in the overwhelming warmth of each other's presence.

“God, Mike, give it to me, please,” you whine, the plea tearing from your throat. The sound of your desperation makes him strive even harder, his movements becoming more frantic as he tries to break the coil of tension building up within both of you.

“You’re so good to me, Mikey so... s-so fuckin’ good to me,” you gasp out. The praise acts like a weapon, sending him straight to the edge and causing him to come undone under your command.

As he chases a release that washes over him in waves, your own orgasm follows closely behind. You throw your head back in pure ecstasy, your eyes rolling back as the world dissolves into a blur.

You both struggle to catch your breath, the air in the room thick and heavy with the scent of arousal, but the heat is far from gone. Your eyes remain locked on his, as you trail your hands down to his waist.

You undo his belt with practiced ease, never breaking the magnetic eye contact that keeps him addicted to you. He lies there like a ragdoll, completely surrendered, his body obeying every unspoken command you project.

His own hands suddenly move in a frantic, desperate rush to pull his pants down, revealing a dark, damp spot on his boxers that speaks to his readiness.

As his manhood bounces free from the fabric, you can't help but let out a soft, needy whimper. His cock is thick and veiny, displayed magnificently before your eyes, pulsing with his heartbeat.

His hands, trembling slightly with anticipation, find the hem of your shirt and pull it upward, while yours work to unclip your bra.

As the lace falls away, your breasts bounce free, the cool air hitting your heated skin. “My God, you’re a beauty,” he gasps, his gaze traveling over your curves with a reverence that makes your heart race.

A soft moan escapes you at his reaction. He has seen your body a thousand times before, yet he never fails to make you feel like a goddess, his adoration acting as a aphrodisiac.

You smile down at him before diving back into a deep, hungry kiss, tasting the salt of his skin. When you finally pull back, he looks up at you, searching your eyes for one last nod of approval.

When you give it to him, his gaze drops instantly to your sex. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them to the side, and your hand reaches down to guide his thick cock into the slick, welcoming heat of your cunt.

“Oh...” The sound is a mutual, breathless gasp as the immense pressure of him filling you takes over, stretching you wide and grounding you in the sensation.

Your hips instinctively find a rhythm, sliding up and down his length as you adjust to his size.

“You’re so, so good, Mike,” you whisper, your voice trembling. His eyebrows furrow, his expression one of pure, unadulterated bliss; he is far too lost in the pleasure to even attempt to maintain eye contact, his head lolling back against the wall.

As you circle your hips, the friction intensifies, causing Michael to arch his back slightly. Your walls clench around him with every slight, rhythmic move you make, milking him with a desperate, tight grip.

The room is filled with the lewd, intoxicating symphony of his loud, broken whimpers and your continuous, melodic moaning.

Michael wraps his arms tightly around your waist, hiding his face in the soft swell of your chest as the peak of his pleasure draws near. “God, baby... thank you... th-thank you,” he stammers, his voice cracking.

Glancing to the side, you notice the mirror positioned nearby, catching the dim, golden light of the sunset. Also not missing to catch the sinful act you and Michael were participating in.

An idea takes hold of you, a desire to witness the beautiful destruction you are causing him. You softly pull Michael’s head back, grasping his face with your fingers not too harsh to hurt, but firm enough to command.

“Look at your pretty face when you cum baby,” you moan against his lips.

You turn his head so he is forced to face the mirror, ensuring you can make eye contact with him through the glass.

Your rhythm fastens, becoming more frantic as the tension reaches a breaking point. You are both hovering on the edge of a massive orgasm, and as the wave finally crashes over you, you refuse to break the connection.

You keep your eyes locked with his in the reflection, your fingers maintaining a firm, guiding grip on his face. His expression is utterly lewd, his eyes blown wide and hazy, and the noises he makes are raw and uninhibited. You feel hot spurts of cum shoot inside of you.

“Fuck, Mike, that’s it!” you cry out, your voice joining his as he lets out a series of long, desperate whimpers.

A heavy, blissful silence settles over the room, broken only by your ragged gasps as you both struggle to descend from the overwhelming high.

You slowly loosen your grip on his face, your fingers sliding down his cheeks as the electric tension finally begins to ebb away. You collapse slightly against him, your skin slick with sweat and the lingering warmth of your shared intimacy.

Michael’s breathing eventually slows, though his chest still heaves rhythmically against yours.

He begins to move with a tender grace, his lips finding purchase on your skin once more.

He peppers soft, pecks across your shoulders and collarbone, as if he is trying to memorize the texture of your body through touch alone.

Finally, his lips find their way back to yours, but the hunger has been replaced by a deep, soulful warmth.

The kiss is slow and sweet, a lingering taste of the passion that just consumed you. He pulls back just enough to look up at you, his doe eyes shimmering with exhaustion and pure adoration in the dimming twilight.

A playful, lopsided grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint.

“Same time tomorrow, lovely one?” he asks, his voice a low, velvety rasp.

thriller/victory era michael x gf! reader

michael needed a break from hayvenhurst, so he drove you two up into the mountains that looked over los angeles. you knew he’d been stressed lately— what better way to help take his mind off of it than being spread out on the hood of his car?

cw/tw: plot if you squint, 18+ mdni, public sex, oral & fingering (f! receiving), he loves eating you out through your underwear, p in v, creampie, he’s kinda rough, size kink, use of “mama”

wc: 1.5k

— SUMMARY: Michael is an eater.

— WARNINGS: sub!mike, bratty!mike, dubcon if you close your eyes, somnophilia, objectification, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of edging, overstimulation, power play, manipulation tactics, use of ma’am & daddy (nobody’s shocked atp), use of mama (he said it irl y’all cmon), manhandling, lil hair pulling, needy reader, reader’s kinda a pushover. reader is black but there aren’t any descriptive details, everyone enjoy! not proofread!

— WC: 4.3k

— AN: Uh. Wrote half of this while cross faded. Otw mike, you are so dear to me.

request: "husband!michael being a complete fein for wife!reader after getting thick after having kids. it’s so bad that everyone notices and makes jokes about it"

featuring: husband!dad!michael x thick!wife!mom!reader

sypnosis: just read the request, that sums it up lmao

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is thick, a lil suggestive but no actual smut

wc: 824

an: michael would def be absolutely infatuated with how the body changes after pregnancy

masterlist ✶ request page

𓈒❤︎︎࣪˖ what happens in the bedroom doesn't always stay in the bedroom!

intro ✴︎⸝꙳.˖𖥔݁˖๋ ( 5.2k ) childhoodbsf!popstar!reader x bad!michael jackson ╱ after a long night of passion between husband and wife, michael mindlessly rips open his shirt onstage, forgetting entirely about the previous night’s evidence sprawled all over his back… now, that’s something for the public to talk about!

notes… 𝟏𝟖+ established relationship. husband n wife of 8 years. begins with transcribed excerpt from an interview together. reader’s transcribed dialogue is signalled by heart symbol. ;; softdom!michael as always. makin’ sweet love til the break of dawn! mikey is shy in the streets n sexy in the sheets. . . light dirty talk. being overheard in the bedroom. hot n passionate sex. he talks u through it. zero protection. creampie. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. kinda babymaking. allusions to pregnancy. aftercare. sleeping while cockwarming. markin’ up ur sweetheart. . .

Synopsis: Jealousy got the best of you, and one harmless flirt was all it took to push Michael past his limit. What was supposed to make him chase you only leaves you facing consequences you didn’t expect.

Warnings: 18*, smut, jealousy, teasing, fingering, depriving kink, slight penetration, begging, submission, and receiving oral

A/N: I accidentally deleted the request moving too damn fast but enjoy 😩

The front door slammed shut behind the two of you, making you flinch where you stood. Michael hadn’t uttered a single word since the event ended. Every attempt you’d made to apologize or spark a conversation during the drive home had been met with complete silence. One glance at the tight set of his jaw told you everything you needed to know—he was furious

As he got closer to you by the sound of his loafers hitting the marbled floor, he wrapped one arm around your waist and roughly pulling you into his. Gasping at the sudden movement, feeling his lips connect with your ear followed by heavy breathing and soft kisses.

As much as you wanted to melt into his presence you knew Michael well enough to know that this was a trick

He moved your hair to the side and unzipped your dress while kissing your back and snatching it off, watching it fall to your feet. Next he undid his tie throwing it on the floor , snapping his fingers and pointed at the edge of the wooden table in the dining room

Now standing in between your legs he aggressively grabbed you by your thighs and wrapped them around his waist before placing three of his fingers in your mouth until you gagged, biting his lips and smirking as if he enjoyed it before pulling them out slowly and dragging them down your body

“Michael can you forgive me?” You begged

Again, your words falling on deaf ears as he ignored you

Instead he used his wet fingers to rub the outside of your pussy, studying your reaction as he provided slow and gentle circulation. The more you reacted to his actions the more he sped up , using those same wet fingers to now penetrate you—watching your jaw drop and gasp at his efforts

His fingers were now pumping in and out of you , you moaning like crazy and allowing your head to drop. That was until Michael grabbed you by your face “Did I give you permission to look away?” You shook your head no slowly , attempting to kiss his thumb before he moved it away

“Do you know much you embarrassed me tonight? Huh?”

“I’m sorry” you whispered

“I didn’t ask for an apology” thrusting his fingers in you and letting them rest as he finished his sentence. Purposely hitting your g-spot

Your body betrayed you, jolting at the sudden sensation. Heat rushed to your face as embarrassment settled in

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you”

While the two of you attended a friend of Michael’s birthday party, you became jealous because you believed that an old friend of his was flirting with him. It felt like the moment you turned away from him, she approached. So to get back at Michael you sat at the bar and allowed a gentleman besides you to buy you a drink

It felt as though you could feel Michael’s gaze burning into the back of your head. By the time you finally turned around, his warm brown eyes had gone cold, hardened with unmistakable anger

He had witnessed the entire interaction from across the room, and judging by the tightness in his jaw, he didn’t wanna talk at the party. Instead he quietly collected you and walked out of the party without so much as a goodbye, leaving guests to watch the two of you disappear.

“And you did this because what? You think I’m stupid enough to allow another woman to disrespect you like that?”

“No baby” you whimpered

Judging by how tight your walls had gotten around his fingers he knew that your orgasm was approaching, causing him to look down at the fluids gushing out of you. He hissed to himself thinking about how wonderful you’d feel around his dick, but he couldn’t allow you to get away with such bratty behavior

As his picked up his face you grabbed onto the collar of his suit for support as you orgasmed, leaving a fresh glistening coat over his fingers—watching him gleam as he sucked on them right before entering his fingers back inside of you. Feeling how tight you walls were now compared to just a few seconds ago

“I had one conversation. One. But you allow a man who’s obviously interested in you to sit in your face and fuck you with his eyes and buy you a drink? He couldn’t even keep his eyes off your cleavage for two seconds”

Your eyes were sealed tightly and your breathing was limited as you tried to focus on not cumming so quickly—but it was so hard to fight the urge because of how good your husband looked tonight, him looking so angry only made it worse because it was a side in him you didn’t see often. You could’ve came right now just by looking at his face and how tight he kept his jaw clenched

“You wanted to make me jealous didn’t you?”

You hesitated, looking at the ground to avoid his gaze. Until his fingers were back under your chin

“Yes” swallowing the lump in your throat

He smirked devilishly before licking his lips, pressing his fingers against your g-spot making you gasp and eyes twitch as your body went into overload. Moaning louder than ever before and watching as your perspective of Michael be clouded by your tears

“It was stupid, I shouldn’t have done that baby I’m so sorry”

He bit on your bottom lip as he sped up his pace, toying with his fingers inside of you just before you came for the second time. His thumb pressing firmly into your clitoris while sliding his 3 fingers inside of you and keeping his pinky slightly against your perineum, your sweet spot

You sealed your eyes tight as ever as your body shook repetitively, crying out for your husband and clawing at his back with your nails. Michael could feel your moans vibrating from your mouth and into his

“Baby please slow down—I need a break” you panted

You leaked like never before, the puddle that Michael manifested outside of you had you shocked and slightly embarrassed that he had such power over you. At some point you started to bite on your own fingers to fight your urges. Your nipples we’re so hard that any brushing he did against them made you moan, as if that was your way of telling him to keep going

He smirked retrieving his fingers from you, refusing to break eye contact as he dragged his tongue to the top of his fingers before sucking off your juices, grunting and growing stiffer than ever in his pants

“You see what you do to me?” Referring to his boner “and you think I want somebody else?”

You watched as he unbuckled his pants and pulled his dick out, licking his lips at you while stroking himself. Your eyes trailed down his body as you watched some of his pre cum leak out with each stroke and hitting the floor

“You want a taste don’t you?” He asked kissing along your jawline

“Yes, yes please” you anxiously answered

“If only you would’ve behaved tonight, I had a full night planned for us. Whatever you wanted to do” he chuckled softly

Taking his tip he rubbed it in a circular motion, groaning at the sensation of your wet and warm entrance against his tip. Shutting his eyes for a few moments before regaining his composure and pressing his lips to your ear

“You heard me baby? I would’ve done whatever you told me to do. Please you for however long you wanted me to, make love to you the way you like and wouldn’t have stopped until you were ready for me to cum inside you”

“I’ll do whatever to make it right baby please, I’m sorry for what I did—it didn’t mean anything”

Michael leaned you back slightly at an angle as he focused on rubbing his dick in between your lips continuously. Makings lots of “ouuu” sounds feeling your wetness consume him, legging his head fall back and grunting at the sensation “fuck, you’re leaking on me”

Pulling his head forward Michael grabbed you by your face and forced you to look down at his dick, feeling him press his dick into your clitoris continuously sending an electrifying sensation through your body

Watching as his fluids mixed with yours as it created a bigger mess underneath you. Tears weeping from your eyes as the stimulation became too much

“Michael baby please” exhaling deeply before your next sentence “Can you just fuck me already?”

Michael caught himself enjoying it more than what he realized. This was only supposed to be a punishment for you, his hips began to thrust harder as his grip around his dick sharpened , still not taking his eyes off of you

“That’s the problem, I always give you what you want. That’s why you thought it was okay to act the way you did tonight—now I gotta break you from that”

Tears finally fell from your face as your legs began to tremble “Baby I’m sorry I’m so sorry for what I did” you begged

He groaned at the sound of your soft words and attempt to gain his forgiveness. Just then he took a step back and jerked himself off aiming at your entrance “oh fuck, fuck” he whispered to himself as he watched his cum cover your entrance and lips. Watching it slowly drip down and saturate the area

Slowly he regained his composure, getting his breathing under control before he gently pressed his lips into yours. Turning his head to the side to gain better access to your tongue and gently suck it before retreating and planting soft kisses on your lips, shutting his eyes as the two of you moaned like crazy for each other. Wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands snuck around your waist

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he whispered kissing your ear softly

A few minutes later the two of you were standing underneath the hot running water, still engulfed in one another. Michael holding you by your butt and caressing your cheeks as you kept your arms around his neck. The two of you just staring at one another in between the on and off making out

“Do you forgive me now?”

Michael smirked as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip “I forgave you a long time ago”

“Thank you”

You pulled Michael into another deep kiss as you gently lead him to the seat inside of the shower , breaking the kiss to get on your knees and submit to your husband. Grabbing his dick and kissing it while rubbing your tongue along various spots

“Because now it’s my turn”

Taglist: @diorzaep @mikeysfavoritefish @mikeysfishfr @michaeljacksonspyt @j-nae @botdfaholic @18lkpeters @loveposiie

Size difference

content ! 18+, unprotected p in v, praise, sweet sex, pet names (baby, honey)

"fuck!" you cry, throwing your head back and letting your jaw go slack. michael is pistoning his hips against yours relentlessly, the only sounds in the room being the lewd skin slapping and the heavy panting and moans emitting from both of you.

"i know, honey" he coos, trying his best to be sweet verbally despite how rough he's being with you physically. "m'sorry babygirl" he tries.

the stretch was borderline excruciating. he was just too big. the funny part is he doesn't even know he's that big! or atleast he didn't know it until you started screaming complaining about it.

"s'too big, michael!" you mewl, squirming under him, but you can't help but arch into him. it's almost instinctive.

"just breathe, baby... breathe" maybe he should take his own advice, because he's barely able to take in a full breath with just how tight your gummy walls are squeezing and fluttering around him.

"i- can't-" the pleasure becomes overwhelming when michael reaches in between the both of you to aimlessly rub at your clit, anything to get you to stop whining. he immediately notices your eyes roll back and your breath hitch. "s'that better honey?" he asks, "that feel a little better?" you nod frantically, barely able to compute his sweet words as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to coming undone. the sniveling and the cries coming from you morph into delighted moans as the stretch becomes euphoric, his praises egging you on impossibly.

"there she is" he purrs, a small, knowing smirk playing on his face.

"there's my girl" he litters your face with small kisses in an effort to calm you down as he continues his thrusts, growing closer to the edge himself.

"g-gosh- baby," he groans, his big fingers still working at your clit.

"feels s'good michael!" you moan, right at the edge. "yeah?" he moans right back at you. "that feels good, huh?" he speeds up his thrusts, making you squeal. "feel me so deep, yeah?" he looks down and sees himself poking through your lower belly. he reaches down and presses on the bulge, making you wince at the tightness. the bulge is disappearing and reappearing with every thrust. "shi-shoot, honey" he mutters.

you feel the white hot band in your tummy snap, pleasure shooting through your body as you cry out his name. that alone is enough to push him over the edge as well. he cums deep inside you, fucking into you a few last times. you both lay there, panting. he's heavy on top of you, laying sweaty on top of you (not that you mind). and of course, michael is quick to comfort you.

he pushes some of the hair out of your face, off of your damp, flushed skin. "you did so good, baby... m'sorry i was so rough" he speaks gently, kissing your forehead.

you're gonna be so sore tomorrow.