mature era!m.jackson x reader

synopsis: you despised diana ross despite the fact micheal had always had a soft spot for her. everyone knew it. maybe it wouldn’t have bothered you as much if micheal would just shut the hell up. because if he wanted to play nostalgia games in public then fine. two could play that game.

requested: @ghazalbambi

18+ mdni

“diana ross you were there then and now again you are here…

…im crazy about you.”

the fuck?

why’s he praising granny?

did you simply cease it exist? you were there. hell he was there in between your legs. i mean he had whispered filthier things to you just nights before, his mouth buried between your thighs, tongue slow and deliberate, owning every slick inch of you in secret.

diana gave that timeless and very wrinkled smile, pulling him in for a hug as he inched closer with that easy charm. the audience began cheer.

you sat ten feet away in your tight emerald gown, the fabric hugging every curve of your body like a second skin, smile frozen on your face like porcelain doll.

something twisted inside you. pure rage, hot and sharp, flooded through you. who the hell did he think he was? parading that public affection like some polished show while he whispered sweetness in your ears behind closed doors.

you forced yourself to stay in your seat for a full hour after, fingers digging into the armrest until your knuckles ached, jaw tight as you watched the rest of the ceremony blur past. every minute stretched, feeding the anger until it clawed at your throat, demanding release. you couldn’t control it anymore. not here. not with him still glowing under those lights like nothing had happened.

you left in a storm, rising sharply from your seat and cutting through the rows with purposeful strides. backstage hallways swallowed you up, velvet curtains and rushing stagehands passing in a haze as your heels struck the floor like gunshots. the cool night air hit hard when you pushed through the side exit, but it barely touched the fire raging under your skin. you didn’t look back. let him finish his performance. let the world cheer. you were done sitting pretty while he played his games.

unknowing of your anger, michael had arranged everything for that weekend — a private jet to malibu for one empty day off both your schedules, then a private intimate dinner at one of the hilton hotels where he had rented out the entire floor.

he made sure everything was as intimate and secretive as possible: dim lighting, soft music drifting through the suite, a table set for two overlooking the city lights, with every detail curated to keep the world far away. just the two of you, champagne chilling in silver buckets, and his experienced hands mapping every sensitive curve of you for hours.

instead you blew it off completely. you partied hard in the hills, letting the night swallow you whole, music pulsing through your veins.

the next morning your face was plastered across every tabloid: you and your male costar, bottle of vodka raised high between you, your dress slipping off one shoulder, headline screaming:

“party girl with her party boy?”

in bold letters. michael saw it. of course he fucking did.

three days. for three days you blew michael off, dodging every call he sent, specifically telling your assistant to tell his team to “fuck off,” voice sharp and final with no room left for negotiation. let him sit in the silence. let him wonder where you went

now here you were another award ceremony the champagne had you loose and reckless. your backless black dress clung to your skin, dipping dangerously low in the back, whispering cool against your thighs with every step. you laughed too loud, touched too many arms, flirted shamelessly, letting the thrill of defiance pool hot between your legs.

your handsome costar found you near the bar, eyes dragging slow and hungry over your body.

“damn,” he murmured, stepping close enough that his cologne wrapped around you like smoke. “you trying to kill a man in that dress tonight?”

you bit your lip, letting your fingers trail down his chest, tracing the line of his tie with deliberate slowness. “maybe i am?”

he grinned, leaning in until his breath brushed your ear, “baby i would die twice if that meant i could have you.”

you laughed bright and sharp, glancing across the room just to make sure michael saw every second. he did — dark eyes locked on you, calm on the surface but burning underneath. you turned back to your costar and traced a finger lower. “careful… keep talking like that and people might start thinking we ain’t acting.”

he grinned, grabbing your hand as you both walked into the ceremony. cameras flashed, the crowd buzzed loud and hungry. the night blurred fast. quick smiles for interviewers, bodies brushing in the packed room, your fingers tight in his the whole time. time stretched and snapped forward until the awards hit their peak.

when your costar won later, he stood on stage, flashing that charming grin. he thanked the director first, then the crew, his voice smooth and real.

“shout out to versace for custom making this outfit for me tonight… and shout out to—” the camera panned straight to you in the audience. “because she’s gonna be taking it off of me tonight.” he winked.

you laughed, mouthing “i will” while pointing at yourself, playful and bold. the audience erupted, already shipping the obvious chemistry between you two.

michael didn’t move from across the room, but you felt his stare like invisible hands sliding up your thighs like a silent promise.

the second you slipped out the back exit, heels clicking against cool concrete, a strong hand wrapped firm around your wrist and pulled you toward the waiting black limo.

“get in.”

his voice was low, controlled, but the grip said everything.

“fuck you micheal I’m not—“

you couldn’t even finish before you were ushered inside. the limo door slammed shut as micheal entered through the other side. the car began to glide into the los angeles night. you exploded immediately.

“i don’t even wanna talk to you right now,” you snapped, turning your body away. you stared hard out the tinted window, city lights blurring past like streaks of gold. “seriously. let me out at the next light. i’m done.”

he sat across from you, legs spread wide in that tailored suit, one arm draped over the back of the seat like he owned the whole damn city.

you kept going, voice rising.

“you’re such a player.” you turned back toward him, eyes burning. “you really think because you’re older than me you can just do whatever the fuck you want?” you looked away again, jaw tight, breathing fast, fingers digging into the leather seat.

“telling the whole world you’re crazy about diana ross while i’m sitting right there? like i’m supposed to smile and take that shit?” you whipped your head back to glare at him. “you’re pathetic. if you want her so bad then go fuck her for all i care. she’s old enough to be a grandmother, micheal. a grandmother. and you’re here acting like teenage boy in heat.”

your voice cracked, anger twisting with raw hurt. you crossed your arms tight over your chest, staring out the window once more as the limo kept gliding toward the private hotel entrance.

“i don’t even understand how you can look at me after that. do you even like me? or am i just something young to play with when you get bored? i don’t wanna be tangled in whatever bullshit you have going on with her. leave me the fuck alone.”

the car finally stopped. michael’s voice cut through the silence, low and even.

“you’re gonna be quiet. you’re gonna get out this car and follow behind me. not a word.”

you stepped out after him, arms still crossed, heels clicking angrily. you muttered under your breath the whole way through the private entrance. “little bastard…” he glanced back at you. you knew you were playing with fire but you just kept walking, foot tapping impatiently while you waited for the elevator, arms folded, eyes anywhere but on him.

the penthouse door clicked shut and the air turned thick, electric.

he rolled the cuffs of his shirt, loosening his tie as he came closer, the silk whispering against his collar. “you done running that pretty mouth yet, baby?” his voice was velvet over steel, low enough to make your thighs clench even while you glared.

“fuck you,” you spat, chin high, arms still crossed tight under your chest like armor. the black dress felt too tight now, too exposing, your nipples already traitorously hard against the fabric.

“i’m not one of those little sluts you fuck around with. you disrespect me and then—”

he stepped in so fast your breath caught, one big hand wrapping around your throat, thumb pressing under your jaw to tilt your face up. “i said quiet.” his other hand finally touched you, sliding down the bare line of your back until it cupped your ass, yanking you flush against him.

you felt how hard he was through his pants, thick and insistent. “you’ve been a little brat all night. flirting with that boy like i wouldn’t see. letting him talk about taking this dress off you. you wanted my attention? you got it.”

you tried to twist away but he only tightened his grip, lips brushing your ear. “keep fighting me and i’ll bend you over that balcony so the whole city watches me ruin this pussy. you want that, huh?”

your cunt throbbed at the threat. you hated how wet you already were. “you wouldn’t dare.”

michael laughed as he walked you backward until your thighs hit the edge of the massive bed. he pushed you down, dress riding up your hips as you landed on your back. before you could scramble up he was on you, knees pinning your thighs wide, one hand pinning your wrists above your head.

“look at you,” he murmured, free hand shoving the dress higher, exposing your soaked lace panties. “already dripping and needy after all that attitude. you’re so spoiled when you don’t get your way.” two thick fingers dragged over the wet fabric, pressing right against your swollen clit through the lace. you bucked hard, a broken moan slipping out.

“michael—fuck—”

“aw baby no, you don’t get to cum easy tonight.” he hooked the lace aside and sank those fingers deep into your tight heat without warning, curling them just right against that spot that made your eyes roll.

“you’re gonna take what i give you. don’t be greedy baby”

he fucked you slow with his fingers, thumb circling your clit in lazy strokes while he watched your face. every time your hips started grinding faster, chasing that edge, he pulled back just enough. denial after denial. you were panting, tears already starting to prick at the corners of your eyes as he brought you right to the brink again and stopped, fingers still buried but unmoving.

“please,” you gasped, voice cracking. “michael i hate you—i need it—”

“you don’t hate me.” he leaned down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting before soothing it with his tongue. “you’re just mad i own this pussy and you know it. say it. tell me who this belongs to.”

you shook your head, stubborn even as fresh tears welled up and your mascara began to run in thin black streaks down your flushed cheeks. “no—”

he pulled his fingers out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing. you whimpered pathetically. he slapped your clit lightly, making you jolt and leak even more. “wrong answer, babygirl.”

“yours,” you finally sobbed, hips chasing his hand like you couldn’t help it. “it’s yours, mikey, baby please—i’m sorry—”

“good girl.” he rewarded you by shoving fingers back in, stretching you open, pumping faster while his mouth found your chest, sucking hard through the dress until the fabric was wet and clinging. you were so close again, thighs trembling violently, but he slowed right as you started to shake, drawing it out cruelly.

“don’t even dream about cumming,” he growled against your skin, voice rough. “not until i say. you cry those pretty tears first.”

you were babbling now, the fire in you melting into desperate filth. “i’m sorry—i’m so— i was bad, just let me cum, please baby—i’ll be good, i swear, i promise, i’ll stop being a—“

the words broke into raw sobs as he kept edging you mercilessly, fingers plunging deep, curling and scissoring while his thumb tortured your throbbing clit. your mascara ran heavier now, black rivers streaking your face as pleasure bordered on agony, body shaking uncontrollably.

finally he gave in. he tore your panties off completely, shoved your dress up to your waist, and buried his face between your thighs like a man starved. his tongue was relentless—slow, filthy laps over your clit, then sucking it hard while his fingers fucked you, juices coating his chin and dripping down your ass.

the sounds were obscene, loud wet squelching and slurping filling the suite as he devoured your soaked heat.

“try ignoring me now,” he growled right against your dripping folds, voice vibrating through your core as he sucked your clit harder. “you wanna waste my time? i waited for you three whole days, princess. planned everything for us and instead you out here acting like a groupie, prancing around with that boy like i wouldn’t handle you for it.”

he plunged his tongue inside you, fucking it in and out before pulling back to lap messily at your swollen clit again. “couldn’t even pick up my calls? you were begging for this. you feel how bad you needed this?”

you shattered when he finally let you. he sucked your clit hard, fingers curling perfectly, and the orgasm crashed through you so violently your back arched off the bed, a raw scream tearing from your throat. you gushed around his fingers, thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave ripped through you, dripping messily over his tongue.

he didn’t stop, licking you through every spasm, tongue fucking into your pulsing hole to drink every drop until you were a whimpering, ruined, twitching mess.

he finally pulled back, face glistening, and crawled up your body. his hand wiped some of your tears, smearing the black streaks. “that’s my girl,” he murmured, voice thick with lust. “aw baby, we’re just getting started.” he freed his thick cock, rubbing the fat leaking head against your still-spasming entrance. “you’re gonna take every inch of this dick and thank me for breaking that attitude. understand?”

you nodded weakly, still sniffling and leaking, fresh tears slipping as you felt him start to push in—slow, deliberate, stretching your sensitive walls wide open.

“thank— thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, voice wrecked.

he thrust in to the hilt in one brutal stroke, groaning at how tightly you gripped him. he set a punishing rhythm, hips slamming against yours, balls slapping wetly against your ass as he fucked you deep, one hand gripping your throat while the other pinched your clit. “keep crying for me, baby. let me see how desperate you get when i break you.”

you moaned like you couldn’t help it beneath him, back arching, legs wrapping around his waist as another orgasm built fast. the stretch was so good it hurt, his thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you with every savage thrust. “baby—slow down, fuck, you’re too deep—”

“too deep?” he laughed low and mean, grinding his hips in filthy circles, stirring your insides while he pinned you down harder. you tried squirming from his grip. “don’t run baby i know you can handle it. my good girl can take this.” he pulled almost all the way out, teasing your dripping hole with just the tip, then slammed back in so hard the bed creaked.

he started fucking you like he meant it—relentless strokes that had your juices dripping down his balls and soaking the sheets. the wet sounds echoed, skin slapping, your moans mixing with his low grunts. “that’s it baby.”

your body trembled hard as pleasure crashed over you again, walls pulsing tightly around him while waves of release left you gasping and shaking beneath his weight.

he didn’t slow down. he flipped you over onto your stomach, yanked your hips up, and slid back in from behind, deeper than before, one hand fisting your hair while the other reached around to rub your oversensitive clit.

“again,” he demanded, voice rough against your ear. “don’t you dare stop cumming you owe me for those three days.” you pushed back against him like a desperate mess, moaning into the sheets.

he gripped your hair, yanking your head back so your back arched deep, forcing you to take every brutal inch as he pounded into you. the angle had him hitting that spot over and over, relentless, wet sounds echoing with every thrust.

you tried to talk back, bratty words bubbling up—“michael—fuck, you think—you can just—” but it all came out incoherent, slurred and broken into gasping whimpers, eyes rolling back as your tongue went slack. nothing made sense anymore, just raw sounds spilling from your lips while your body betrayed you, clenching around his thick cock like it was made for you.

“that’s it, baby,” he growled, hips snapping harder, sweat slick between your bodies. “can’t even talk bad now, huh? you feel how deep i am? nobody else gets this. not that little costar, not anybody.” his fingers rubbed your clit faster, messy circles that had you shaking violently, another orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision blurred.

you kept trying to form words—“i—i hate—oh god”—but they dissolved into pathetic, needy cries, eyes rolled back completely as he fucked you through it, his grip on your hair never faltered, keeping you close like he was holding reins. he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, biting at your shoulder while his pace turned erratic, chasing his own release.

“cum with me,” he rasped, voice breaking with how close he was. “right now—give it to me.”

you shattered at the same time, both of you groaning loud as he buried himself to the hilt and spilled deep inside you, hot pulses filling you up while your walls fluttered wildly around him. your body convulsed, squirting messily down your thighs as the pleasure overloaded every nerve.

he held you there for a long moment, both of you panting, trembling, connected. then the dominance melted away. michael pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt you, and gently flipped you onto your back. he gathered you into his arms immediately, cradling your limp body against his chest like you were something precious.

“come here, princess,” he whispered softly, voice all warmth now, pressing tender kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, your forehead, the corners of your eyes. and one finally to your lips. he wiped the last smudges of mascara with his thumbs, gentle as anything. “you did so good for me. my beautiful girl. let me take care of you.”

he carried you to the huge marble bathroom, running a warm bath with sweet-smelling oils while you stayed curled against him, still floating. once the tub was full he lowered you in together, settling you between his legs so your back rested against his chest. his hands moved slow and loving—massaging your sore thighs, your hips, washing between your legs with the softest touch, careful with how sensitive you were.

“you know i only have eyes for you,” he murmured against your hair, kissing the top of your head as he held you close in the warm water. “diana was just an old friend on stage. nothing more. you’re the one i want here, the one i planned that whole weekend for.”

you let out a weak, satisfied little laugh, finally finding your voice again even if it was raspy.

“yeah well that wrinkled old bat can keep her hands to herself. next time she smiles at you i’m kicking her dentures across the stage.”

michael chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around you and nuzzling your neck. “baby she means well i promise.” he kissed your shoulder softly, then your jaw, hands stroking soothing circles over your skin. “but you’re the only one i’m crazy about. the only one i want ruining my sheets and my plans.

you melted back into him, content, the anger from earlier long gone as he pampered you with gentle touches and sweet words until the water cooled and sleep started pulling at you both.

either way you thought whether she means well or not it’s always up..