Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
How about a fic where both Janet and Michael are in love with reader? And competing over the pathetic puddle of bisexuality that is reader? The girl is mine levels of competing.
It's gonna be hilarious.
Can't Choose
Janet and Michael x bisexual! Reader
Summary: Michael and Janet both want you but your bisexual self can't choose.
The tension in the room is thick. You sit squeezed on the velvet couch overwhelmed by the intense attention of both Jackson siblings. "You look absolutely beautiful tonight, sweetheart," Michael says softly. He places a gentle hand over yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles. He flashes that signature, blinding smile that has charmed millions, but his eyes are locked entirely on you.
Before you can even blush, Janet leans in from your other side, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Don't overwhelm baby girl, Mike," she purrs, her voice dripping with smooth confidence. She slides her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. "They know who they really want to spend the evening with right, my love?" You let out a weak, high pitched squeak. Your bisexual heart is beating at a dangerous speed. You look at Michael, then at Janet, overwhelmed by choices.
Michael’s smile tightens. He doesn't drop his grip on your hand."I'm not overwhelming anyone, Jan," Michael says, "I'm just taking care of my angel in fact, I was just about to take them out to the gardens. Just the two of us."
"Oh, really?" Janet laughs, a low, challenging sound that sends shivers down your spine. She tightens her grip on your waist, her fingers splaying against your hip. "Honey told me earlier that they wanted to stay right here and listen to the new tracks I'm producing I think my company is exactly what they need."
"They were just being polite, Janet," Michael counters, his voice dropping an octave. "let's be real darling, tell her you'd rather see the twilight over the lake with me, wouldn't you?"
"Michael, please," Janet sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes. She leans across your lap, bringing her face inches from Michael's, trapping you entirely in their crossfire. "You're living in a fantasy look at her, she is practically melting in my arms, precious belongs with me."
You look between the two global icons. Michael's dark eyes are wide, pleading, and focused. Janet’s gaze is heavy, and full of possessive promise. You are a helpless, puddle of indecision."I... I can't choose," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper.
Michael chuckles softly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "You don't have to choose right now, sweetheart," he murmurs, though his eyes dart to Janet to mark his territory. "She needs to know her place."
Janet counters kissing your other cheek, her lips lingering against your skin. "Keep dreaming, Mike," she whispers against your ear, making you shudder. "By the end of the night, baby girl is coming home with me."
Pervy Professor! Janet who touches herself to the assignments you turn in, she'd imagine you standing right in front of her reading the assignment to her—being visibly nervous while she assures you that you're doing wonderful and you have nothing to worry about. The thought of you working hard on the assignment turns her on even more, knowing that you put in so much effort.
Pervy Professor! Janet who glances at you ever so often to ensure that you're fully paying attention in her lecture, the moment your attention wonders to something else she'll be quick to call you out in front of the whole entire class leaving you completely embarrassed. But it doesn't end there she purposely says that she won't be "tutoring" you for a few days as punishment for your behavior, hoping that'll teach you a lesson.
Pervy Professor! Janet who loves when you call her Miss Jackson during intimacy. It's sounds like music to her ears, hearing you moan out her last name pleading for more which she'll gladly grant without a doubt.
Pervy Professor! Janet who shamelessly checks you out anytime you wear tight clothes. Making sure to get a better look at your body anytime you walk past her desk, looking at you with hunger in her eyes. She's so focused to the point where she doesn't realize that she's biting her lip wishing it was something else she was biting.
Pervy Professor! Janet who daydreams about fingering you on top of her desk having you spread wide open right in front of her as she fingers you senselessly with a pulse of adrenaline, knowing that the risk of getting caught would be very high. That's the thing with Janet she loves doing nasty things in highly risky places, she absolutely loves everything about it. The way her heart is pounding rapidly whilst she stares at the door making sure nobody walks in while you are on the verge of tears from all the pleasure you're receiving.
Pervy Professor! Janet who gives you extra credit no matter what, just ask and you'll receive she just wants a little something in return well more than little. She'd most likely want you to wear a skirt the next day during class with you not wearing any panties while under the skirt while having your pussy on full display for her eyes only.
Pervy Professor! Janet who passes you notes during the lecture writing down how unbelievably stunning you look and how she can't wait to ruin you after class. After reading the note you're always left with sudden heat on your cheeks, trying to cover your cheeks with your hands out of habit. Janet notices each time, leaving a smile to suppress her face every single time.
Pervy Professor! Janet who is more than glad to help you on an assignment that you need help in. When you finally understand it, she's quick to praise you like never before. "See honey it wasn't so complicated, but I'm very overjoyed to know that you comprehend it now you won't find it as confusing" softly smiling at you. When she began to praise you, you could've melted in your seat right there and then as you squeezed your thighs together tightly feeling the throb between your legs, that's didn't go unnoticed by Janet. "Since you've been a very good girl today, I'll be sure to reward you pretty girl" putting her hand between your thighs.
A/N: ik i said that i’d be taking a break for a week but im a liar😬not proud of it but woman enough to admit it. this a lil something while i continue working on these requests! btw thank you all for 500 followers oh my goodness, i love you all very very much mwahhhhhh.
Summary: The biggest ball of your life was happening tonight, and luckily you got a ticket! But why are you numbered? And why does the wine look so dark?
Tw.: This heavy primal play, very nsfw, Janet is mean and a psycho, blood play, Janet prefers her blood bags with meat in their bones, Reader is smart but confused,
A.N: I'm on a roll again with writing even if I don't get many request I GOTTA GO TO WORK! Plus this helps me think about ideas with stalker Michael which is otw (get it) but still gonna be late. Like and Comment and if you want I can make another. Bone apple and teeth
×××××××××××××××××××××××
××××××××××××××××××××××
There was no way. No way to even imagine that your bestie friend Tia got tickets to the Fall Soirée. When the you got the call from Tia saying that she scored two tickets, you didn't believe her.
"The Soirée is for high profile clients and celebrities Tia, and no offense but we work at a mini mart... How did you get tickets?"
"Well first off miss. attitude, I got invited by the host AND I don't work at the mini mart any more!"
Tia tells you that she had a midnight rendezvous with Jermaine Jackson (of course) and he gave her two tickets. One for her and one for a male friend.
"Now hold on, male friend? Tia I'm a girl?"
"I'm sure he was just being kinky or whateva! I'm sure it doesn't matter if you got tittie or a dick. Now I'm outside, go put your clothes on because we both need an outfit"
"I mean I got some clothe-"
"PUT YOUR SHOES ON GIRL"
After shopping and gaining many compliments on your outfits, you stand at your vanity mirror in awe. The dress fits like a glove over plump and fleshy parts of you, it's like you literally are a coke bottle. From the way the midnight purple shines against your skin, the way the ball gown-like end flows against the floor makes you feel taller, and the crystals embroidered on the hip curves with you perfectly. You looked delicious courtesy of Tia saying she'll take you home if nobody else does.
As you twirl around your small apartment in your dress you pick up a hair magazine to see what style you could do for the ball. Maybe a nice perm rod set? Or a curly afro that would frame your face beautifully? Or should you just do a nice pixie to show sophistication? After magazine after magazine you settle on the perfect style.
Tonight was the night, the Soirée was in 2 hours and you done everything you could to stand out. You got the dress, the killer hair a pin up bun with little curls hanging all over. When you came back home from your long hair appointment you added little rhinestones as decor. You wrap your shit as tight as you can and take a lovely everything shower, getting out to lather your body in your favorite oils and lotions.
You finally put on your dress with the help of Tia, standing back a smile with all 32 teeth showing comes on your face. You looked like a gorgeous doll and you felt like such a princess and with a final touch of lipgloss you were off. Leaving a trace of perfume wafting in the air as you close your apartment door.
Arriving at the soiree you look outside your window. For a good five minutes all you could see is fields? Fields with nothing growing or blossoming in the grass. You look at Tia who sings her heart out to Whitney and you shake your head, moving your shoulders to the beat you still drift your head to look outside and sigh. You hope you look presentable... Well no you hope your future sugar daddy is here tonight.
As the driver pulls in you see gowns and suits if white, red, and black flutter in and out of your vision. Celebrities of all kinds are here from hit Hollywood actresses, to directors of your favorite movies, and most importantly the entire Jackson family. Who you see are seated at the very end of the large ballroom. Michael is dressed in a very authoritarian suit and wears his signature aviators, Jackie in a tailored red suit that shows his chest a bit (whew), and Janet... Janet is full out dominatrix with her outfit. Black leather shines like plastic against her and it molds into her body as she walks from the table to the back of the room and into a room away from your eye. Her hair is up and spiky it makes you tense like she is some kind of super villain.
But you couldn't look at her again before Tia drags you off to the security who clicks your ticket and hands you... A white button?
Yes a white button with three numbers in bold print, 404. You pin the button in the curve of the right side of your bodice and you move to where Tia sits, close to the middle where most of the important guests sit.
Tia points out as many people as she can see, gossips about some that earns a tiny laugh out of you as you take in all the luxury you are surrounded by. Tia and you move around chatting with some celebrities but most just stare at you and Tia like meat.
You and Tia are now talking to some other people with buttons who say they were invited by either actors or friends. It seems like everyone got the same story though, invited by other and not formally invited by the Jackson family.
You shrug this though off and turn to see Tia cuddles up beside Jermaine who kissing all up on her... Gross but hey!
But soon the lights dim, and a spotlight is on family as they all stand in one fluid motion. A mic is given to Janet as she steps forward and moves to the top of the staircase.
"My esteemed guests, welcome to the best night of your lives" Applause is heard all around. Janet bows and motions for something to come forward. A man is tied to his knees, his suit shirt is ripped and his eyes are closed. Janet lifts his chin up and smiles and looks towards the crowd. You look around to see they have made a divide. People with buttons are on are side towards the doors to the fields you saw and the others? On the other side with eyes that watch either people with buttons or hanging onto every word Janet says.
"Today is a special day. A wonderful day. Today we celebrate our long heritage that the public shames, tonight we have our full of only the best, weaklings. Weaklings who desire something their feeble minds can't even comprehend."
You heard a loud shut and your head whips around, security bolted the main doors together. The wind howls and you could hear a pin drop before Janet could speak again the tied up man yells
"RUN, RUN EVERYONE THEY ARE CRAZY! THEY'LL KILL YOU IF THEY FIND YOU RUN-"
A squelch is heard as his neck is ringed nice and clean, his blood sprays the floor and he falls back with a thud, Janet moves her nails to her mouth and moans
"Bitter... Unfortunately he messed up the show but things must go on" Her gaze moves to our side and smiles wickedly.
"We have others to use. My guests the food is ready to be served. Take your pick, fill your bellies and gain your strength for the enviable day. For WE shall rise again!
Throughout Janet speech you didn't even notice when Tia left your side. You mind was trapped in confused that you didn't notice her body heat, her smell. The spotlight soon moves to the Jacksons again. And at the center Tia is moved, struggling and hit as they bare her neck to Jermaine, he whispers something to her before he bites her neck, blood sprays on his white suit and flesh falls as her life drains from her eye. Jermaine rips a chunk of her flesh and checks with delight, like a steak.
A scream is heard before it's silenced again by a man jumping through the air and tackling the woman down. The room erupts in chaos as people run to the door looking for a way out. The celebrities-no the beast run and crawl toward everyone with a button to feed on. You move to the window to break it because you know, you know they locked the doors for this moment. For a moment to have a blood free for all.
And Janet watches it all, as her rips the heart of the man from earlier and cleans the blood with a sucking smile. Her laughter is psychotic as it rings through the air.
Once the windows are broken people floor to the fields, but traps are laid around them wires, endless pits, and dogs are set to slow you down. You run and try to stay away from each kunge and grab, a man tries to push you towards a blood sucker before he's quickly tackled and punished. You watched as the woman bites and mauls him before you turn to run to the far right.
As you ran you didn't notice the floating being above you. Janet.
"It's no use weaklings. Do you think we don't know these paths? This was our home before you cunning bitches shocked away. You can run but know... Know that you will not leave this land with your heads" and with that she laughs again she she dives from the sky into the crowd to grab her second meal.
You run and keep running tossing and turning as you evade the blood suckers. Maybe if it was a God they would've given you the luck, to not see the massacre you just saw. A merciful God would've killed you to spare the pain but there is no God here. Here, they are you executioner and your savior but tonight. You believe there are no mercy.
You run and turned to the right to see a forest. Tall tress of dark oak that makes you feel like your in a cliche horror movie but you know. You know that nothing about this is fake. As you look around for any bloodsuckers you run deeper into the forest not noticing the red eyes that track you.
You kept running and running abandoning your shoes on the leafy ground. You end up seeing a pond with the moonlight beaming down on it. The sight makes you stop and look at its beauty, a sight that you believe no one has ever seen befo-
"You shouldn't be here"
A voice rings out of your head
"You ruined the formation, You ruined your only chance at living weakling" the voice is clipped and menacing like the hatred has bubbled up inside of them for far too long.
You whip your head around trying to find the source but find nothing. The voice rings through your head. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. You don't know what that entirely meant but you couldn't touch on that as you ran through the one to the otherside. The eyes in the trees looks down to follow you.
You run and run and couldn't even phase the sounds of feet behind you until you couldn't ignore it anymore. You turn you head to see Janet lunging from tree to tree like a feral animal in pursuit. And she was, for her prey was trying to escape her clutches. You run faster ducking under trees and jumping over logs as you hear her hissing through the air.
You turn your head only to see Janet lunging for you, her fang and jaw open for the kill. But mercy gives you a chance, for you doge and roll to the left avoiding her by a hair. Janet hits the floor and a deep gash covers her forehead. Her red eyes look at her blood before slowly climbing to your body that lays on the floor and a sickening smile spreads across her face.
"I'll make sure you death is the most painful bitch. I'll fucking gut you inside out. RUN"
And she didn't need to tell you twice as you grab a tree to pull you back up and ran deeper.
Janet watches with that same smile as she licks her blood and laughs. She loves a good chase, the adrenaline is something she craves and your giving it to her. She loved watching you run your little plump body trying to avoid it demise was making her feel things she hadn't in a long time. The smell of your blood going to give you a inch closer to freedom gave her a rush and as she watches you run away her thigh clench and her hip grind into the floor
"Mhm...run little weakling"
You don't know how long it's been. An hour? Maybe 3 hours? With the. The way your luck is going it's only been 30 minutes. However long it's been hell. You haven't seen Janet in a minute, which can only mean she either knows where you are and is waiting or she left you alone only to crush your hope hours later.
Janet sits in the top branch of the tree sharpening her nail, as she watches you truge along the path of the woods. Her face is unimpressed and blank as she watch your move. Chases are a favorite but this been going in far too long. So with cat-like accuracy she jumps down and glides along the forest floor behind you. The wind pulls her hair across her face but she makes no move to stop it. Only moving forward her eyes practically groping you for a far.
As you watch you look around in case Janet is watching, find nothing you keep watching until you see... A road! An escape is right there only a few feet away. You walk toward it only to see a huge valley below a perfect trap. With hills too high to run up and too steep to climb out of in timely fashion you stand there thinking of what to do when a crunch is heard.
You slowly turn your heard to see Janet on the tree behind you, she red eye glow like sirens and her fingers... Covered in black wave at you. You both hold eachother stare waiting for someone to move when s scream is heard"BOO" Janet screams she jumps across the tree toward you, you lunged to the side to grab a thick tree branch and Janet moves to a crouched position, you run towards her and she jumps at you but your quicker, with a harsh swing you smack Janet into a tree, her body slumps over and you take off running. A clear victory in your mind.
You run as fast as you can to the valley before you tumble down into the pile of leaves below. You cover yourself and quiet your breathe... Quiet.... Absolutely nothing but wind and distant howling. Everything seems safe before a voice echos in your mind
"Should hid better weakling"
And a shock of pain grips your body. Janet gripe your hair and drags your from the pile and climbs ontop of you with a snarl. Her fangs drip with drool.
"I told you to fucking RUN"
She picks up your head and slam it down on the hard floor. Your head feels the pain and spread it. Whimpers leave your mouth as you try to claw your way out. Acrylic nails bloodied and broken as you scream and kick for your life.
Janet takes it all with glee as she grips your wrist and pins you down with crazed eyes and a psychotic smile
"I told you. I told you if I caught you I'll gut you. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING"
She aims for your neck, her fand digs into your skin as you scream bloody terror. Janet revels in your terror and moans at the taste of your blood. Slurps and sucks are heard she takes everything she can from you. Your kicks slowly down and eyes start to close before she leaves your neck.
Janet looks down at your state and feel... Hot. She movers her thigh sort to welcome your knee and grinds her aching clit. She lets out a soft moan at the feeling.
She picks up her paces now humping your leg, using you for pleasure. You watch as she grinds her hot cunt on you, you should feel disgusted, you should feel violated but you feel nothing but a small amount of joy. Joy that has no explanation as you watch the woman take all she can get from you.
Janet tips her head back to gaze down at your bloodied body and smiles, leaning down against to kick your face and neck as her archs her back to dig her achy cunt into your leg.
"ngh~ I-I have a deal weakling... You let me use you. Let me own, and you get to live hm?"
She whisper in your ear before roughly kissing you, her fangs prick your lip and you wince in pain but Janet only giggles as she grinds faster. Tiny moan can be heard from you two and when she leaves your mouth she hold your face tight.
"Say yes. Cmon weakling. This is your chance to ... Let me take control.of this feeble body" you nod and she lets out a devilish laugh. She gets to her knees and looks up at your with hard eyes
"Get up. Take the dress off, you won't be needing it" you nod and stand tiny rocks and sticks latch to your thighs as you slowly peel off your only defense. Now standing in a black lace panty and bra set you look down to floor. Janet breath hitches as she takes you in and her thighs clench, Janet can feel her slick just flowing out of her slutty hole but she'll deal with that later.
"Spin around for me"
You spin around to show your panty covered ass, the fleshy jiggling a bit at the movement. Janet pulls you close to her as she rips the lace in the back apart, spreading your two globes apart to see your little hole. Untouched and unprepared she stares at the rosebub but sniffing. Once, twice and then moving her nose in deep she deeply inhales the scent of your hole. You cover you mouth, wanting to save a bit of your dignity for ego but Janet wants it all. A tongue slivers from her mouth and she licks around your rim, pressing a kiss to the puckered hole she dips the tip of her tongue inside of your hole and licks around. Slurping and spitting like it's your cunt. You don't even wanna know what she'll do with your pussy.
You bite your lip to try and stop the whines and moan from coming out when Janet stand kicks you to your knees. Her gaze is harden and angry as she stares down at you
"Listen to me and listen well. When I said I own you, I meant it. I own everything on and in this slutty body. You think hiding yourself from me will stop me from taking you? In your dreams weakling. You hide from me again and you'll wish you were like Tia. Am I clear"
"Y-yes Janet" a small smack is laid across your breast
"Yes who? Do you think your worthy to call my name?"
"N-no ma'am! I'm not, I'm sorry I should've known better"
"Yes what slut"
"Yes daddy... I understand daddy"
Janet looks down at you with a tiny smirk, but it vanishes as quickly as it came. She pushes her hair back and pulls down her zipper from the front of the bodysuit, slowly she reveals her perky nipples and soft breast. The moonlight does it damned best to show you how beautiful the sight of her naked breast are. Your eyes trail down to where Janet pushes the suit down and you lock your sight on her puffy cunt, a thing string of her slick pulls from the suit and now, she's completely naked. The only thing left is her lined up crowned and her blood eye necklace.
She grips your head in a gentle embraced for the first time and stares at you with a lustful gaze
"Do you know what this is" her opposite hand spreads her folds, showing her wet clit that wave at your. You nod your head unable to speak the sight is just that good.
But Janet only scoff ya king your head back a bit before speaking
"You don't weakling. This is your God now. You will worship my cunt day in and out. You will learn to crave my essence like you crave water. Am I clear" her tone leaves no room for anything other than 'yes' but deep down. Would you ever denie her?
Janet's middle finger comes to slowly circle her clit, making show of how well she can bring herself pleasure. She lets out small moans of satisfaction and watches your face, she takes in the look of pure lust in your eyes, she watches the fight between clarity and pleasure taken over you.
A small drop of her slick falls from her hole, and before you could think you move your head to lick the string up. Moaning at the flavor, this surprises Janet only for a second. Seeing how easy you are, she pushes your head to her hole, lips pressed against her she grind into your mouth.
"Now your getting it. Lick your owner up slut. Make daddy proud to save your insignificant life"
Her degradation is like music to your ears, as you lap at her sloppy cunt, you hands hold her thighs down onto your face as you globber and slobber all over her.
Janet never felt like this a day in her life. Hundreds of lovers and hundreds of years of passion cannot compare to how your eating her- no the way your devouring her essence is maybe the thing she needed. She didn't need blood. She needs your mouth, you tongue, that body if yours to feed her urges.
Janet feels like her peak is coming but, its so much to do before the sun comes up and her night of terror is over. Yanking your head away she ignores the whine you let out and wipes your mouth clean with her tongue. She pecks your lips
"Enough of that pet. You still need to prove your devotion to me. Remove your those" she points to your panties and you quickly slide them off, you look up to see her hand is out. Placing your wet panties in her hand, she thumbs over the wettness. She looks at the garment and throws it to the pile of clothes.
She pushes you down onto the floor and straddles you, she bites and gropes your breast with a sense of urgency now. Her tongue licks up any blood that her fangs nicked, her mouth suckles on your brown nipples and soft moans flow out of your mouth like music, to Janet it was like she was deaf and gained hearing and the first thing she heard, was your sweet sounds. She tries not to get mad all over again at the fact you tried to hold these sounds away from her. She already decided your punishment for that foolish act.
She leans back away from your nose bruised tits, and pressed kissed to your belly. From what you see, she likes to knead your belly like a kitten. She buried her face into the curve of your waist and sighs. Before spreading your legs, pushing them up to the moon (you a grandmother talking about legs to the moon?! Iykyk)
She leans down to sniff your cunt, your arousal makes Janet shiver in excitement over all the things she's could and will do to you. She gets two finger and covers them in your slick before sliding them inside, they went in so smooth it surprises you and Janet. Slowly she curls and presses against your wall, trying to find your sweet spot with a calm face, you on the other hand tries not to let yourself cum too quickly. Your legs tremble a bit as she digs into you.
"Such a messy pussy you have weakling. Look at how she so open for me, I bet no other human can make you feel like this can they?" You shake your head 'no' as moan and whimpers stop
"N-no daddy... Nobody ngh~ n-nobody"
Janet snickers before she ysnks her fingers out and places them in her mouth. The moment your slick hits her tongue her eyes dilate and she visibly relaxes. She sucks at her fingers before she scoops more and more of your essence. Purposely avoiding touching your clit and giving you the orgasms you need.
"Please daddy! I-ive been good right, just please just one time mhpm!"
But she pays you no mind, after getting her fill she flips you over to show your plump ass again. Smoothing her hand over it she gives a tiny smack to the flesh watching as it jiggles like water. Janet grips one side to open you up to see your hole. It winks, like it's trying to get Janet to come and do what she don't do to her cunt. But Janet only taps her finger against the hole before she places her cunt on your ass.
Slowly like she did your leg she starts to hump your ass, like she trying to fuck you she thrusts her hips to you making your body jump up. You let out soft moans at the feeling of her clit rubbing didn't you ass. Janet is not better groaning at the feeling of the soft flesh bringing her closer to her peak.
"Yess... Your doing so well weakling. Daddy gonns have such a good time with you back home." The words don't register with you before she rubbing your clit in small circles but fast motions. She presses against you hard like she trying to fuck into you deeper and deeper, she grabs your jaw and moves you to her lips and she kisses you with such fever.
"Cmon baby... Make daddy feel it, bring daddy there and I'll give you want you want~" you thrust your body back towards her digging into her clit, she cries out.
"FUCK- cmon baby do it again" she smacks your ass"
"Cmon show me... Show daddy what you can do" two more smacks land on your ass as she grinds against your ass
"G-gonna cum mhm-fuck` gonna cum!" She pulls off and flip your over before landing on your face. She rides your nose and flicks her nipples
"Cmon baby eat- worship me one last time ah! F-fuck cmon~" you lick and suck her clit and hole, scooping more of her slick into your mouth before Janet freezes with a chocked moan. Her squirt fills your mouth and you swallow her with an earger tongue.
Janet hope off your face lands on your chest, she pants as she lays kisses on your neck.
"D-did so good weakling. So good"
She looks up at you, but instead of red eye she has purple again.
"You want me...do you crave my body like I crave yours" as you stare you don't notice her drooling again, how she moves closer to the juncture of your neck
"You will learn to crave me my weakling... But for now you will be mines body and soul" and with that last line a shock flows through your body, she bites you but she's drink any blood only hold you there as something flows into your neck. You grow dizzy and before you black out. You see Janet over you, the moon shining still bright but over you two. You can hear two voices in the distance calling for Janet.
⋮ ⌗ synopsis┆janet's family visits her campus apartment with her "roommate".
⋮ ⌗ 🏷️┆porn w very small plot, secret relationship, janet is in the closet 🌚, college au, tribbing, oral, small spanking, teasing.
⋮ ⌗ doleuia┆it wouldn't be me if i didn't say this was rushed, enjoy tho 😛😛
you couldn't figure out what was irritating you more. the fact that you were in janets girly clothes playing roommate with her family because she could tell them she was dating a girl, or the way she temporarily abandoned you, leaving you stranded in the living room with her brother who was practically sizing you up from across the living room with a smirk on his face.
but the far more agonizing source of your irritation was janet herself, your mind was running off the memory of how wet she was this morning before they showed up, grinding against your thigh while whispering filthy promises about what she'd do once they left.
"you know it's very rude to stare," you said highly annoyed, shifting in the tight dress that hugged your body.
randy chuckled, chin resting in his hand. "i can't help myself when the view is this good." he blew a fast kiss your way.
before you could snap back, the soft rustle of the decorative kitchen curtain signals your girlfriend's return.
"okay mama, drive safe, call me when you get home," she said, exchanging quick hugs and cheek kisses, thanking her mom thanked her for the food.
and with that, the heavy wooden door finally clicked shut and the lock turned. they were finally gone.
janet turned back toward the living room and caught your glare, "what?"
"don't 'what' me janet," you shot back, standing up and smoothing down the suffocating fabric. "you got me in this tight ass dress, got your brother giving me googly eyes and shit. reminding me exactly why i'm a lesbian."
she chuckled softly, walking straight toward you with hungry eyes. "baby stop, you know randy ain't no threat, plus, you do look good in that." her voice dropped, becoming a low, gravelly purr laced with heavy anticipation as she closed the distance.
dresses weren’t your thing, but the way she looked at you now—her eyes roamed your body like she wanted to devour you right there, made the discomfort worth every second. she pulled you into a deep kiss the second she reached you, her tongue sliding against yours in a demanding manner as her hands gripped your waist, the tension from the visit melting into pure heat.
"'member what i said this morning?" she asked, whispering against your mouth, breath warm and shaky with anticipation.
"mmhm." you hummed, janet pulled back with a wicked little grin and lifted the hem of her black sundress slowly, revealing her smooth, bald pussy.
exactly like you'd been obsessing over all afternoon.
the sight hit you hard. you scooped her up in one smooth motion, hands gripping her ass as her legs wrapped around your waist, laughing breathlessly against your neck while you carried her straight to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you.
you dropped her onto the bed and climbed over her, but janet quickly flipped you, straddling your lap with a smirk. she peeled your floral sundress off in one fluid motion before tossing it aside, your full breasts free now.
leaning down, she captured one of your brown nipples in her mouth, sucking slow, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud while her hand teased the other, the wet heat of her mouth sent sparks straight between your legs.
"janet…" you moaned, back arching, your hands sliding up her bare thighs as she switched nipples, sucking harder, grinding her wet pussy against your covered lower half, leaving a wet trail on the fabric of your panties. every roll of her hips teasing you, reminding you how badly you wanted her.
janet smiled against your skin, clearly enjoying how desperate you were getting. she kept grinding in lazy circles, letting her wetness smear all over your panties while she gently bit down on your nipple.
"you're so worked up already," she whispered, her voice a hot vibration against your chest.
she dragged herself lower, aligning herself directly over your covered clit, rubbing slow, firm, and heavy.
"janet please," you whined, your hips lifting instinctively to chase the friction, trying to force a deeper contact through the barrier. "i need you, stop teasing me."
she chuckled softly, her eyes completely consumed by lust. she slid her arms out of her own dress, tossing it to the floor, before reaching down to tug your soaked panties aside.
she lowered her weight again, this time pressing her bare folds directly against yours. the first true slide of her wet clit against your own made both of you let out a loud, synchronized moan. her intense warmth enveloped you, slick meeting slick.
"fuck, you feel so good," janet breathed, hands braced on your breasr as she started to rock her hips.
she moved with absolute control, grinding her cunt against yours in steady, deliberate, rolling circles. thewet, sliding friction was perfect as she slid precisely over your swollen clit, mixing your juices with every heavy downward press.
"mmm, just like that," you sighed, eyes locked on yours, landing two smacks on her soft ass.
the pleasure built gradually, each grind sending sparks through your core. her breasts bounced lightly with her movements, your hands moved to grip her hips, feeling the flex of her muscles as she rode you. her breathing grew ragged, her moans turning into short, breathless pants.
you rocked up to meet her, matching her pace, forcing your clits to rub harder and faster with every pass. the tension coiled so tight in your belly it was almost painful. janet’s pussy felt incredibly silky and thick as it pulsed against yours.
"i'm getting close," she whimpered, her hips moving in faster, frantic jerks to chase the peak.
"me too," your strained voice whispered. "i want you to cum with me, baby."
janet took the cue, locking her eyes back onto yours and delivering a few firm grinds. she came first with a high cry, her entire body shuddering violently on top of yours as her pussy pulsed in hard spasms, flooding the center between your thighs with fresh cum.
the sensation caught you right after, your orgasm crashing through you in pulsing waves. you held her tight, grinding up into her as you both trembled and shook.
when the peak finally faded, janet stayed on top for a moment, catching her breath then she slid down your body and licked slowly up your sensitive pussy, her warm tongue cleaning you with soft, loving strokes. the gentle attention making you shiver and sigh before she crawled back up, her tongue slowly tracing your lips, sharing the taste of your shared release before you pulled her down into a affectionate kiss.
"you know they gon' catch up to us soon," you murmured, your voice still a little raspy.
janet stirred, shifting her head just enough to look up at you, her chin resting on your chest. "how? you're my roommate." she offered a sleepy grin, tracing a slow circle on your bare stomach with her index finger.
you let out a soft, amused snort, "net, your family make boku money, they know you don't need no damn roommate."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𖦹 summary : michael greets everyone with a kiss— including you. so returning his kindness, you greeted him with a kiss, too.
𖦹 tags : fluff, one-shot(?)
𖦹 word count : 3.3k
𖦹 a/n : a bit delay on the best friends au… so enjoy this instead ! (thought abt this at 3 am LOL ITS SO CUTE I HAD TO WRITE IT). also while writing this i imagined michael during his bad era, the pic is only for the plot and it fits. (BUT U CAN IMAGINE WHATEVER ERA YOU GUYS LIKE) most likely would write a part two ><
⤷ masterlist.
michael jackson was an affectionate person, and everyone around him knew that. a kiss on the cheek, a hand on someone's shoulder, and a warm hug goodbye.
so when you first walked in as the newest wardrobe assistant, you nearly jumped out of your skin the first morning michael leaned down and kissed your cheek.
"good morning."
"...oh!"
you blinked at him before smiling so brightly it nearly hurt to look at.
"good morning, mr. jackson!"
michael laughed at your formality.
"no need to call me that, really. just call me michael."
"oh. okay, michael!"
you didn't blush, no awkwardness, just... genuinely happy. michael had to pause for a second.
"...you okay?"
"mhm!"
"you sure?"
"yeah! i thought it was really sweet."
"what is?"
"the kiss. my grandma greets everyone like that."
"does she?"
"mhm!"
"...that's nice."
then you gave him another smile before wandering off carrying a rack of costumes. michael stood there for another second before shaking his head.
"she's quite... adorable."
he muttered to himself.
𖦹
after that, it became a routine. whenever you crossed paths with michael–
"good morning."
he would always give you a kiss on the cheek.
whenever rehearsals ended–
"great job today."
another kiss.
sometimes before he left the studio, he would bump into you in the hallways before another–
kiss.
"take care."
and you would always accept every single kiss with the exact same sunny smile.
"thank you!"
"see you tomorrow!"
"have a nice evening, michael!"
not once did you overthink it, read into it, or even ask yourself, 'does he like me?'
because that's just michael. he greeted everyone that way. you would see him kiss some backup dancers on the cheek, sometimes it would be the hair stylists, or even female producers.
you even saw him one time, kiss his sister latoya and his mother on the cheek when they came over to the studio. you thought it was a really sweet habit of michael's.
𖦹
the crew adored you.
mostly because you somehow made every miserable twelve-hour rehearsal feel lighter. you would compliment everyone and remember birthdays. one time, you even brought your homemade cookies to work because–
"i accidentally made too many."
you said with a sheepish smile, but there were clearly six dozen. but nobody questioned it.
you would even apologize to chairs after accidentally bumping into them, and michael witnessed that once and physically stopped.
you rubbed the chair apologetically.
"i'm sorry."
"did you just..."
"hm?"
you looked up at michael.
"...apologize to a piece of furniture?"
"what if i hurt it...?"
he stared at you. and you stared back.
"honey... it's a chair."
you blinked.
"i know...
"..."
"but still. it's basic manners."
michael had to physically turn around before a laugh could escape.
𖦹
one afternoon, you wandered into the rehearsal room carrying a tray.
"i brought lemonade!"
the dancers practically cheered, handing everyone a cup. michael walked over to you and accepted a cup.
"thank you."
"you're welcome!"
he smiled before absentmindedly kissing your cheek. you smiled back at him.
"drink lots of water, too!"
"...yes, ma'am."
nobody noticed anything strange, not even the dancers at that time. because nothing was strange.
...not until a month after.
𖦹
it had been a hectic morning. everyone was rushing through the studio, carrying equipment or stage costumes.
michael had arrived late and hurried inside, and the second you spotted him across the room–
"there you are!" you beamed.
you smiled so brightly that the entire room seemed to brighten with you. michael's head shot up, and you walked straight over to him.
"oh, good morni–"
kiss!
you tiptoed to his height and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"good morning, michael!"
then you just... walked away.
the whole studio froze. someone dropped a clipboard, one of the dancers slowly lowered the water bottle they'd been drinking from, and the makeup artist's mouth actually fell open.
on the other hand, you were completely oblivious. you continued toward the wardrobe racks and hummed to yourself
"...okay! let's organize these jackets..."
as if nothing happened.
michael... did not move. like his brain has simply stopped.
"..."
his hand slowly lifted to his cheek.
"she..." he muttered quietly.
one dancer leaned toward another.
"...did she just–"
"i think she did."
"michael?"
michael still hadn't answered. he was staring at absolutely nothing when his ears turned pink. then red. then somehow redder.
"michael?" one of the dancers asked.
"you alright, man?"
"hm?" michael finally answered, then a laugh.
"she kissed me."
he touched his cheek again, and the room collectively tried not to laugh.
"sure did!"
"we all saw."
and michael blinked.
"oh."
then... very, very slowly. a smile spread across his face. it was small at first, then impossibly soft. the kind that reached his eyes.
"that's... sweet."
he looked down.
𖦹
an hour later. you were helping fold costumes, humming a song quietly to yourself. michael came and quietly walked over to you.
"hey. can i ask you somethin'?"
you looked up and nodded.
"mhm. what is it?"
"this morning..."
you nodded.
"yes. what about it?"
you tilted your head, still smiling. michael had to look away to bite in a smile.
"you kissed me."
"oh! yeah."
"...why?"
he asked, and you looked genuinely confused by the question.
"because that's how you greet, isn't it?"
you said.
"i mean... you always do."
you continued, blinking while you stared at his reaction.
"i thought.... it'd make you feel welcome like you do for everyone else."
you tilted your head, and michael forgot how to breathe at that moment. there wasn't a teasing smile on your face, nor a hidden meaning or embarrassment. you truly believe you'd simply returned his kindness.
"was... was i not supposed to?"
you frowned slightly.
"oh– no, no."
michael answered immediately, he nearly startled himself.
"not at all."
"...you sure?"
"yes, absolutely."
he paused.
"it was... really sweet of you."
you beamed.
"i'm glad!"
then... you went right back to folding shirts. michael just stood there for a couple of seconds, watching you happily hum while organizing costumes. completely unaware you'd just unraveled him with one innocent little kiss.
he quietly covered the side of his face with his hand.
"good Lord..."
he muttered quietly to himself, and one of the dancers walked past with a grin.
"you good, mike?"
michael laughed under his breath, shaking his head.
"no..."
he looked over to you, who was now apologizing to a tangled clothing hanger because you'd bent it slightly.
he smiled to himself.
"...i think i'm in trouble."
𖦹
the mistake wasn't big. you accidentally labelled a few jackets incorrectly. one costume rack had been rolled to the wrong side of the stage. it delayed rehearsal by maybe a few minutes.
still... the stage manager wasn't in the best mood today.
"please pay attention. we can't have mistakes like this from now on."
you immediately straightened and nodded at every word the stage manager said.
"i'm sorry."
"you need to be more careful."
"yes, i understand."
"and always double-check before rehearsal."
"i will."
you said, absolutely no excuses or arguing. you nodded and kept your head down.
by lunch, everyone else had already forgotten about it. but you hadn't. you stood alone backstage with a clipboard pressed against your chest.
"...okay."
you let out a tiny sigh before continuing.
"i made a mistake. but that's okay– everybody does." you nodded to yourself. "i'll do better tomorrow."
a pause.
"…no. i'll do better this afternoon," you smiled to yourself. you looked up at the blue sky peeking through the loading dock doors.
"at least nobody got hurt! and..." you counted on your fingers. "i remembered everyone's measurements. that's good... i only cried for about–" you checked your imaginary watch. "five seconds."
you smiled even wider.
"it's improvement. okay! let's go have a better day."
a little clap for herself.
𖦹
michael had only come backstage to grab a bottle of water he had left behind, but instead– he stopped around the corner and saw you.
"..."
he was watching and listening quietly, and you were... giving yourself a pep talk. there was no audience, no performance; you were just choosing to be kind to yourself.
michael had stared at you.
'God...'
you were unbelievable. michael suddenly has the overwhelming urge to pick you up and set you somewhere safe. tell everyone else to stop being mean to you forever.
his chest actually hurt.
'she is...'
he covered his mouth.
'she's so cute.'
you turned around, and your whole face lit up when you saw michael.
"oh! hi, michael!"
you beamed, like you hadn't been scolding yourself a minute ago.
"hello. you alright?"
he smiled.
"mhm!"
"...you sure?"
"yeah. i made a mistake."
"i heard."
"but i'll fix it!"
"i know you will."
you nodded once.
"i already made a checklist, see?" you proudly held up the clipboard. "i won't forget again."
michael looked at the page, and every task had a tiny little checkbox. some even had smiley faces beside them.
"...you drew faces."
"they make checking things off more fun."
"of course they do."
he laughed quietly.
"y'know... you don't have to be so hard on yourself."
"but i wasn't." you blinked. "i was encouraging myself."
michael blinked right back.
"right."
you smiled.
"if i already feel bad... why would i make myself feel even worse?"
michael had no response because she was right. painfully right. he looked at you for a long second– then he reached over. he gently adjusted the little headset clipped crookedly to her collar.
"there."
"hey, you fixed it!" you looked down at your collar.
"you would've forgotten."
"i would've. thanks!"
"so..."
he smiled at you.
"double-check your costume list."
"i will."
"and don't skip lunch."
"i won't."
"and drink water."
"i already had two bottles."
"good."
"i listened."
you grinned, and before michael could even think about it–
"good girl."
the words slipped out of his mouth, and you just smiled proudly.
"i know, right!"
michael looked away.
'why did i say that?'
"anyway. i should go."
you said, hugging your clipboard again.
"you should."
"bye, michael!"
you walked two steps before stopping.
"oh!"
michael looked back.
"hm?"
you walked right up to him, rose onto your toes, and placed one quick kiss on his cheek.
mwa!
"have a good day!"
then you skipped away. actually skipped. michael's brain completely shut down again. his fingers touched the exact spot you'd kissed.
"...again? she did it again."
he whispered to absolutely no one.
across the hallway– you were happily checking boxes on your clipboard.
"done!" a smiley face.
"done!" another smiley face.
one of the seamstresses looked over.
"you seem happier, sunshine."
"i am!"
"what happened?"
you smiled before responding.
"michael reminded me not to forget lunch."
"that's sweet."
"mhm! and i got to tell him to have a good day, too."
you said, and never once considered mentioning the kiss. because to you, you had simply greeted him the way he always greeted everyone else.
a perfectly normal goodbye.
meanwhile for michael... he couldn't concentrate for the rest of the rehearsal. every few minutes, without realizing it, his fingers would drift to his cheek again. he caught himself doing it for what had to be the fifth time.
"michael?"
"hm?"
"you have been touching your face all afternoon."
one of the dancers said.
"...have i?
"yeah."
he lowered his hand immediately.
"you okay?"
they asked, and he glanced across the stage and saw you laughing with two wardrobe assistants, because you'd somehow managed to put a tiny sequined jacket on the wrong mannequin and declared it looked 'very fashionable.'
you looked very pleased with yourself. you were so bright. effortlessly yourself, and michael smiled before he could stop it.
"yeah, i'm alright."
a quiet laugh escaped him.
"i just..." he watched you for another second. "...think she's the sweetest girl i've ever met."
and across the stage, completely unaware of the effect you had on him, you looked up and caught his eye, and gave him an enthusiastic little wave.
michael waved back automatically. then sighed with a smile. he had a feeling that if you kissed his cheek again, just one more time.
his heart might genuinely forget how to behave.
𖦹
the wardrobe department was always busy before rehearsal. there were pins everywhere, steam from pressing irons, and measuring tape loose around the room.
people were running everywhere, and you somehow managed to smile through all the chaos.
“michael?”
he looked up from the mirror and saw you.
“hm?”
“i need you for fitting.”
“right now?”
“if you don’t mind.”
“of course.”
he stepped onto the little fitting platform. you circled around him with a measuring tape hanging around your neck.
“arms out, please.”
he obeyed. his arms were out, and you took one look at him in the blue stage jacket.
“oh!”
your face brightened, and michael blinked.
“what is it?”
“you look really handsome.”
“…”
you immediately crouched to pin the hem.
“i think this color suits you.”
you said, and michael forgets his own name.
“i like this better than the yellow one… the shoulders look nicer.”
you continued talking as if you’d just commented on the weather today. you tugged gently at the fabric.
“and your curls look extra pretty today.”
“…”
“you okay, michael?”
you asked.
“i…” he cleared his throat. “…thank you.”
his ears had gone pink. you just smiled.
“you’re welcome.”
then continued pinning his pants, completely oblivious. you hummed while working.
“i think we need…” you stepped back. “maybe…” you frowned as you thought.
“could you turn around for me, please?”
and michael did.
you hummed while you smoothed the fabric across his shoulders.
“so broad…”
you said absentmindedly, purely from a tailoring perspective.
“no wonder this keeps pulling.”
michael looks straight ahead.
‘God... help me.’
you walked around again.
“there.”
you smiled proudly.
“you wear clothes pretty well.”
“do i?”
“mhm!” you nodded enthusiastically. “they look alive when you wear them.”
michael had to look up at the ceiling because if he looked at you— he was absolutely going to smile like an idiot.
“done!” you clapped once. “it looks perfect.”
he looked at himself in the mirror, then looked at you.
“thanks.”
“hm? for what?”
“…everything.”
you tilted your head.
“i just fixed a jacket.”
𖦹
later that evening, rehearsals finally ended. everyone had rushed toward the catering. someone had ordered pizza, while some grabbed sandwiches—
and michael… didn’t.
he quietly stayed behind toward the stage. he was too tired, drained from meetings, and the pressure made him lose his appetite.
…he wasn’t really hungry anyway.
“michael?”
he looked up and saw you standing in the doorway, holding a little tin with strawberries painted on the lid.
“hey.”
“you were here all along.”
“were you looking for me?”
“mhm!”
you walked over to him and sat beside him.
“i didn’t see you at dinner… did you eat?”
“not yet, but i’m alright. i wasn’t hungry anyway.”
you frowned.
“oh.”
you held out the tin.
“…i made oatmeal cookies.”
“for me?”
“i made too many.”
he looked inside, perfectly round and still warm.
“you made these?”
“mhm! it’s my grandma’s recipe.”
you smiled.
“i thought you really worked hard.” you shrugged. “so… you should eat.”
michael looked at the cookies. then looked at you. then back again.
nobody had ever checked whether he had eaten all day. not even this week, honestly.
everyone usually had to ask something from him— rehearsals, meetings, a photo or a signature. but you just wanted him to eat dinner.
“thank you.”
you beamed.
“don’t forget milk.”
“milk?”
“they’re better with milk. trust me.”
he laughed quietly.
“i’ll remember.”
you nodded very seriously.
“and drink water.”
“yes ma’am.”
“and sleep.”
“i’ll try.”
“no.” you said almost immediately and pointed a finger at him. “you have to.”
“…okay.”
after that day, it became a habit. every few days—
“i made banana bread.”
“i packed extra.”
“i tried a new muffin recipe.”
michael had stopped asking if you’d baked too much, because he realized you would always bake enough for him on purpose.
you never announce it. you never make a big deal about it— you always just place a container beside him.
“you forgot lunch.”
“you worked hard today.”
“i think today is a cookie day.”
he never heard someone classify days by baked goods. but apparently, you did.
𖦹
one evening, michael wasn’t himself. the rehearsal had gone badly, songs were pulled out from the album by his producers, and meetings had dragged on. someone from the label has been criticizing everything.
so he sat alone on the edge of the stage after everyone had left, wanting some peace and quiet.
you almost walked past. almost. then you noticed him sitting alone.
you quietly sat beside him, still putting some distance between michael. and for a minute, you’ve said nothing. then you broke the silence.
“my grandma says…”
michael glanced over to you, and you continued.
“…that some days are just determined to be difficult.”
“really?”
“mhm. so…”
you paused and thought very hard.
“…maybe today’s using up all the bad luck… so tomorrow doesn’t have to.”
he stared at you, and you gave a little sheepish shrug.
“well i don’t know if that’s scientifically true— but i think it’s a nice thought, and i wanted to share it with you.”
he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the smile forming on his face, while you stared at the empty chairs and continued.
“and…” you nudged the cookie tin towards him and turned to look at him. “cookies can’t fix everything, but they’re a good place to start.
michael looked away, a laugh escaped before he could stop it. it wasn’t because it was funny— because it was ridiculously adorable.
he rubbed his forehead.
“you’re unbelievable.”
you blinked.
“is that a good thing?”
he smiled to himself.
“very.”
you look relieved.
“oh, okay… i was worried.”
“no—”
he shook his head.
“—don’t worry. you make…” he searched for the right words. “…bad days feel smaller.”
you smiled.
“i’m glad.”
then you stood abruptly.
“well— i should go!”
“you headin’ home?”
“mhm. my bus comes in like fifteen minutes.”
he nodded and stood up.
“get home safe.”
“i will.”
you took two steps before stopping— and michael smiled, already knowing.
“oh!”
“hm?”
you walked back towards him, tiptoed to his height, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
mwa!
“goodnight, michael.”
then you picked up your bag.
“don’t forget to eat the rest of the cookies! and sleep! oh—! and no skipping breakfast tomorrow, okay?”
then you left, the stage doors closed behind you.
michael didn’t move. he stood there, his hand slowly touching his cheek, and the now familiar warmth lingered. but this time, it wasn’t just the kiss— but because of everything.
it’s the way you would notice he hadn’t eaten. the containers you quietly brought from home. your silly optimism. and the way you would never ask anything back from him.
you saw him not as a superstar he is— but as a normal human being… and that’s all he’d ever wanted.
he sat back down at the edge of the stage for another minute, smiling to himself.
he let out a quiet, helpless laugh.
“i am done for.”
no dramatic realization, no lightning strike— just a simple truth settling gently into his heart.
he had spent months thinking you were the sweetest person he’d ever met. but at some point, without noticing... you had become the person he would look for in every room.
the person whose laugh he would recognize before anyone else’s.
the person who reminds him to eat and becomes part of his day.
—and the one innocent little kiss goodbye that everyone else might’ve brushed off… was suddenly a part of every evening.
because now, after you walked away, all he could think of now was—
‘i already miss her…’
and that thought, more than anything, told him exactly how deeply he’d fallen.
⋆˚࿔ pairing . Jackie Jackson x f.blackreader 18+MDNI —
⋆˚࿔ premise . after a heated argument between you and your boyfriend jackie things started to escalate but in a good way, he often let's you be a pillow princess but maybe this time it's time for him to put his princess in work after having such a filthy mouth cussing him out....but he secretly loves being cussed out by you.
⋆˚࿔ contains . riding him, backshots, missionary, both of you taking turns smoking during sex, established relationship, they lowk toxic but in love with each other, jackie smoking (please just act like he smokes in this fic), cussing, arguing, reader having a horrible attitude, nipple play, masturbation, jackie being mean, just pure filthy so enjoy babes !
Los Angeles, California 1972 – your house.
Jackie leaned back in the armchair, blunt glowing between his fingers as you tore into him. Smoke curled from his lips while your voice cracked through the bedroom, calling him every name you could think of. He didn't flinch, just watched you pace, eyes half-lidded, letting the weed mellow the sting of every curse you spat.
"You don't give a fuck about this relationship," you snapped, hands flying. "Flirting with every thirsty bitch that throws herself at you—"
Jackie exhaled another thick cloud straight at you. "Keep talking." His tone stayed flat, almost bored. "See where that mouth gets you, youn' know how to shut the fuck up sometimes." He inhaled another cloud then exhaling another thick cloud at you.
"The fuck you just say to me?," you turn to look at him, your eyes giving him that 'don't play with me' look. "If anything you don't know how to stop being such a jackass, oh I forgot you're already one!" You screamed at him, getting more and more heated by the second.
You kept going, on and on for a few more minutes, until he finally stood. Blunt buring slow between his lips. He crossed the room in two strides, and grabbed your chin hard enough to make you shut up mid sentence.
"I think you outtha lost your mind talking to me like that, the fuck is wrong with you, huh?" He said looking you up and down. You didn't say anything besides giving him a look of pure irritation. "I don't give a fuck." You spat back.
"really?, that's how you feel ma?," he smirked, "strip. Get on the bed, now." He commanded, leaving no room to argue. "Play with that pussy while I watch since you wanna walk around huffin and puffin, now ima give yo ass a reason to huff and puff."
You glared but obeyed, jackie ended up going back to the armchair slouching. Blunt burning slow between his fingers. His eyes tracked every move as you stood at the foot of the bed and peeled your top off first. You dragged it over your head, letting your tits bounce free.
His gaze dropped straight to your nipples, already stiff from the cool air and the heat of the argument. You shoved your shorts down next, stepping out of them so you stood completely naked in front of him. "Keep goin," he said, voice low. He took another long pull from the blunt and let the smoke drift up while he watched.
You climbed onto the bed and lay back against the pillows. Legs spread wide, you slid two fingers down over your pussy, parting the lips so he could see everything. Your middle finger circled your clit in slow, wet strokes. Jackie's stare stayed locked on your cunt as you rubbed faster, silent whimpers babbling out your mouth. The sound of your slick filling the quiet room. He exhaled another thick cloud, the tip of the blunt glowing orange while you pushed two fingers inside yourself and started pumping in and out.
"That's it," he murmured, shifting in the chair. His dick was already pushing hard against his sweats. "Don't stop, get that shit nice and wet for me, ma."
You kept fingering yourself, hips rolling up to meet your own hand, "mmnghm—" you moaned out. Your other hand came up to squeeze one of your tits, pinching the nipple the way you knew he liked. He stared at you, eyes half-lidded, smoke curling around his face as he watched your fingers disappear knuckle-deep inside you again and again. Every time you moaned or cursed under your breath he just smirked and kept smoking, letting you work yourself.
"That's it," he muttered. "Rub that shit. Get it wet f'me." You kept touching yourself, your attitude still showing on your face even as your body responded. Jackie stood again, undressing, his long, perfectly trimmed, girthy dick. It's already hard and heavy. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards the edge of the bed
"You got a lot of sass on you, girl," he said with the blunt STILL between his lips. That man loved to smoke, you knew that already, jackie loved him some weed and you loved to smoke with your boyfriend at times so it didn't really phase you.
You batted your eyelashes up at him, small gasps escaping your lips, "and you got a lot of nerve flirtin' with them other bitches." You snapped back almost instantly. He rolled his eyes and spread your legs wide, pushing them up to your perky tits. He started rubbing the head of his tip up and down your slit without pushing in, the teasing forcing a small whimper out of you.
"jackie—don't tease." You looked at him, bringing your lips to your teeth biting down on it softly, you reached down trying to line him up yourself, but he slapped your wrist, "I didn't tell you to touch, stop playin' with me girl." His voice full of irritation and laziness. He continued rubbing his tip over your folds before he finally pushed in fully giving you no time to adjust to him.
You gasped, looking up at him pupils blown wide as you tried adjusting to him, that man didn't give a flying fuck. He started thrusting, hard and steady, one hand pressed down on your thigh to keep your legs wide open, the other one taking slow inhales of the blunt, letting out more smoke.
"You look so pretty, gon' make yo ass a mommy." Every snap of his hips punched a loud moan out of you. "S–slow down baby–shiiiitt!" You moaned, eyes rolling back. Your legs wrapped around him now, heels digging into his back, "I'm–I'm so sorry baby, oh my gosh!" You yelped out, eyes squeezing shut.
"I don't give a damn bout' no sorry, Mama, y'know this, don't play crazy now." A dry chuckle came out his mouth. He started pounding into you until the headboard slammed the wall. He took the blunt between his fingers and passed you the blunt and you took a hit while he fucked you slow and deep now changing his pace, his thumb now circling your clit.
"Inhale," he coached, watching your eyes glaze. "Now hold it. Good girl." You exhaled shakily as he picked up speed again, his free hand went to your nipples tugging and sucking one into his mouth as he leaned down while he pounded into you. He moved one of your legs onto his shoulder. This angle had him drilling deeper into you, making you moan out louder.
Your legs started shaking, pressure building fast, "I'm–fuck–im gonna." You tried talking, each other turned into a moan. "You gon' what?, I can't hear you baby," he slapped your inner thigh. "Speak up f'me." He ordered. You put the blunt out on a nearby ashtray being very careful not to drop it, you absolutely tried running from the dick, it felt like he was trying to fuck a five babies into you.
"stop playin' with me," he held you down by your hips, your legs now opened up into a V shape. "You know I don't like that shit, now take it." He drilled in deeper in this position. Causing you to see stars, maybe even galaxies at this rate, "oh fuck—hiccup!—m'so sorry, baby." You whine, lips coming out to a pout.
You felt a tight pressure in your stomach, "jackie—wait a minute, slow downnn." If anything that made him go faster. Sound of skin slapping filled the room mixed with his groans and your moans. "Whatchu finna' cum on this dick?, hm?, answer me girl." One of his hands snaked up around your throat applying a bit of pressure. You nodded your head unable to answer, "mmnghm!—" your body had enough, liquid gushing out around his dick as you came hard, soaking the sheets.
He didn't stop, fucking you through it. "Look at you making a mess all ova' me." He looked at you, making eye contact with you. "That's my girl," he kissed your face. "I'm so proud of you—knew you could do it." He praised you trying to get you to relax after an intense orgasm. You finally relaxed your breaths a little ragged.
But he still wasn't done with you, especially after all that stuff you were saying in his face earlier. He finally got up from you and flipped you over. A small gasp coming out your lips, "What the hell are you doing -" a hard slap to your ass made you cry out.
"Quiet woman, don't really wanna hear' you speak right now." He slid his dick into your cunt again. He took both of your hands, dragging them to meet behind your back, then wrapped his own hands around your wrist, and he started pounding into you harder this time. His head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbling in his throat. He looked so good, sweat all over his body glistening him.
"Oh yes, Mama, grind that ass back on meee," he whined, "so pretty, baby, you should see the view." He slapped your ass drilling into you deeper and harder.
"so good, baby—"
He bit down hard on his lip. The sound of you moaning and throwing your ass back on him had him obsessed and mesmerized. His thrust became sloppy, "I'm so—oh shitt," he groaned. His hot sticky cum exploded into your walls, both of you moaning at the feeling of his warm dick stuffing you full and painting your walls.
He pulled out of you, still not satisfied nor done with you. He climbed onto the bed and pulled you on top of him without asking. "Ride it." He said, gripping your hips. "And ride it right or get the fuck off me."
You sank down on his dick, gasping at the stretch. He let you set the pace at first, watching your tits boune while you moved. His hands slid up to your nipple, pinching and rolling them between his fingers until you moaned. "Oh m'gosh y-yess— jackie!" You whined, your eyes watering. You look at him.
His hands cup your ass. "So deep inside this wet, sloppy pussy. mhmmm." He hisses, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. "Just like that baby," he praised, voice nasty. "Look at you takin' this dick after all that shit you talked. This pussy so wet, fuck."
You tried to keep your bratty attitude, still muttering curses under your breath while you bounced. His hand shot up and wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. "You gon learn to watch ya' mouth?," he asked mid bounce, "or I'm gon remind you everytime who this pussy belong to." He started thrusting up to meet you.
"Fuck you," you hissed, still trying to talk shit even as your pussy clenched around him. "You think this gon' fix shit?"
Jackie laughed low, hips still thrusting up into you, "this gon' fix that attitude. Keep runnin' it and see what happen."
You tried to curse him out again but the words dissolved into a broken moan when his fingers found your clit from underneath. He rubbed tight circles until your thighs shook and you came down on his dick again, "oh my gosh!—fuckk!" You moaned out. Your body jerks a little, your pussy spasms more and lets out more cum.
He thrusted his hips up again a few more times, "ohh fuckk...mmhm, I'm cummin in this pussy... shit baby," he groans, giving three deep thrusts before holding himself deep inside you, releasing all in your womb.
You collapsed against his chest, still twitching, his cum leaking out around his softening dick. He stroked your back, voice soft now. "Don't ever talk crazy to me like that again, mama." He kissed your head.
You nodded weakly against his skin, too fucked-out to argue. "Yes, baby.."
During your free time—you and jermaine went shopping or on dates. You were.. a confident and bossy woman, not that he minded, but sometimes you got out of hand with your attitude.
like today, you had been snappy about not being able to purchase the shoes you wanted because they were sold out. Jermaine had been gentle with his words, telling you that he can get them for you next time.
but of course—you had to be an ass about it.
maybee you did it on purpose, maybe you didn’t. Either way, it ended with you over his lap and your lower half bare.
“I want you to count each one, got that?” His palm rubs over your left asscheek and you shiver at the cold feeling of his rings adorning his fingers—bracing yourself for a slap.
“I said, got that?” he repeats, giving a light smack that makes you jump. “Yes.. i got it.” you grit out.
he hums, rubbing your right cheek before striking your left one. You cry out, gripping his thigh. “O-One!” you hiss.
it continues like that, him stalling then smacking, then rubbing the abused skin—just to slap it again.
Eventually, you were reduced to tears, droplets trickling down your cheeks as you squirm from the air brushing against your sensitive skin. you whimper when your legs are pried open slightly.
“You did so good mama, ill make it better, don’t worry.” He murmurs as his fingers delve to the wet area between your legs.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Whew, this has been a long time coming! I apologize for the delay, May ended up being a bit rough for me and after a lot of doctor visits and tests I have unfortunately been diagnosed with chronic migraines, but fortunately that means I am finally getting on medication to manage them! Still getting used to it and I might have to try a few until I find one that works without too many side effects but glad I finally have a plan. Anyway please enjoyyyyy!
Title: Prairie Song - Part 6
Word Count: 5.3k
Rating: E
Overall CW: period typical behavior, misogyny, violence, gore, character death, animal death, explicit sexual scenes
Chapter Warning: None
Summary: Your father has once again forbade you from leaving the ranch to go on the months long cattle drive your whole family used to take part in; it’s been that way since your mother died…So like every year since, you find yourself alone on the ranch to tend to the cattle that didn’t go to auction and the rest of the farm animals. But something isn’t quite right amongst the trees on the far side of your grazing lands, and the animals are growing wary.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Elliot Monroe shows up three days later, rushing into town looking like he could vibrate out of his boots in excitement, telling everyone that will listen that there is some sort of ‘large predator’ out in the woods and he intends to hunt it.
While you sip on your morning coffee and lazily nibble at one of the fresh biscuits Lily had made with the eggs from your hens you unabashedly listen into the conversation going on a few tables down from you between Elliot, Sheriff Nelson and Deputy Dansen.
“I'm tellin’ ya Sheriff, I ain't ever seen nothin’ like it.” Elliot says as he leans over the porch railing, his upper body practically hovering over the Sheriff's and Deputy’s little cafe table. “The skin on that bear was peeled clean off!”
“You sure it wasn't jus’ another hunter?” Dansen asks broadly, leaning back in his seat as he takes a swing from his coffee. “Heard bear meat isn' that good anyway.”
Elliott shakes his head animatedly
“Ain't no hunter worth their salt leavin’ a kill like that.” He replies before looming closer. “An I ain't even told you the weirdest part.”
“Well don't keep us waitin’ Elliot.” Sheriff Nelson chuckles good naturedly and puts another sugar cube in his coffee.
“Get this…the things head was missin’” this seems to peak the officers attention as well as yours as you listen in a bit more, pausing in your chewing.
“Like something had tried to tear it off while eating?” Nelson asks.
“No sir, the whole thing was jus’ gone, poof! Not a hide or hair of it.”
“Probably just some sort of scavenger.” Dansen shrugs and leans forward again in his seat. “I bet you it was just some other hunter out there that wanted the pelt and some sorta animal came round, saw the opportunity and took the head.”
Elliot huffs at that.
“Ain't no way Dansen, there's something out there in that forest, some sorta big critter and I intend to find it.” He replies standing back up and shifting his weight to one hip. “What if I find a new sorta, whadda they call it?....speeches?”
“Species.” Sheriff Nelson offers and the Hunter nods enthusiastically.
“Ya, species! I'll end up in the paper…hell they might even put it in one of them fancy school books!”
Nelson laughs and Dansen sighs and waves him off.
“Sure, sure…jus’ make sure we're the first to know about your discovery.” The Deputy replies wryly.
Elliot doesn't seem dissuaded.
“Well I’m gonna bring back whatever it is and you lot are gonna be singing a different tune.” He replies, straightening up and tugging on the lapels of his vest.
“I’m sure you’ll find somethin’ out there Elliot.” Sheriff Nelson gives him a smile and tips his hat.
Elliot waves them off and leaves them to their morning coffee.
The Sheriff chuckles as he watches the other man walk off with purpose in his stride, before turning to you at your table. You knew he’d catch you listening in.
“What do you think, Miss Y/N?” Nelson asks good naturedly.
You hum, taking a sip of your coffee before resting your elbow on the small cafe table and propping your chin up on your hand.
“I don’t know…Elliot is a damn fine hunter…but…I’ve heard some of the stories he’s told and I reckon a few o’ them have some pretty embelshin’ on em.” You reply and Dansen gives a snort.
“Jus’ a few? Just last year he was talkin’ about how he saw a buck out in them woods with a rack as wide as I am tall.” The Deputy says, shaking his head and taking another swig of his coffee.
“Eh, you never know; I’m sure there is stranger things.” And you are most certain there are as your mind drifts to Rh’yll.
Dansen doesn’t say anything else but you can tell he’s rolling his eyes.
“How are them horses, Sheriff Nelson?” You decide to change the topic, that and you’re genuinely curious.
Nelson lets out a warm laugh and smiles.
“They’re doin’ mighty fine, Some of the most well mannered too.” He replies. “Decided to keep one for myself and Jenny Beaumont has been looking to get a good training horse to have her boy learn on so she’s stoppin’ by later today to take the dappled mare.”
He looks over to his companion and smiles.
“And Dansen here has a soft spot for the little buckskin.” Dansen sighs at being called out.
“Aw, well it sounds like they’re all gonna be in good hands.” You are genuinely happy that after everything the horses have a happy ending as well.
“Shame that their owners never showed up.” He adds and gives you a glance out of the corner of his eye.
You take a quick sip from your coffee and hum.
“Seems like they’ll be jus’ fine.”
Nelson gives you a nod and small smile before turning back to look back out on the town as folk begin their morning routines.
You fall into a pleasant silence with the two men and people watch as you finish your pastry and coffee, getting to listen in on some delightful small town gossip as patrons fill the outdoor seating.
—
After taking your time at Lily’s you set your sights on accomplishing what you had actually come into town to do.
Stopping in at the general store, you ignore Mrs. Jameson as her shrewish gaze passes over you as you enter and make a beeline for the dried goods.
While you had been preparing the buck you had managed to kill, you realized that you would have just enough salt to salt preserve what you wanted to but would have little to none left for anything else, that and you had started to run low on a variety of spices as well and you were not about to have bland meals.
“Hi Miss Y/N! Can I help you with anything today?” A cheery voice catches your attention and Dorothy Jameson, the Jameson’s daughter, walks around you and gives you a bright smile.
Dorothy, was a sweet young girl around the age of fifteen and you’re still not sure how a woman as uppity as Mrs. Tilly Jameson could raise someone as pleasant as Dorothy.
You return the girl's smile with a soft one of your own.
“Actually I’d be mighty thankful if you could grab me a few things.” You reply and hand over your list of spices.
“Pretty big list there Miss Y/N! Gettin’ ready for winter?” Dorothy asks as she begins grabbing jars and burlap sacks to fill with your desired contents.
“Rather stock up now than worry about makin’ the trip out here when the weather starts goin’ south.” You say as you browse the shelves nearby.
“Mr. Palmer says this year’s winter is going to be a doozy!” She says, weighing out a parcel of bay leaves.
“Linus Palmer always seems to know what the weather ‘ll be doin’, so I reckon it’s a good thing that I’m thinkin’ ahead.” You pick up a nice leather bound notebook, flipping through the crisp unmarked pages.
You and Rh’yll had been working on your communication and you had decided that having a dedicated place for notes would benefit your education rather than scribbling things down from memory on random pieces of paper.
You wonder if Rh’yll would like a notebook as well.
“You have another one of these?” You turn and show Dorothy the notebook.
“Sure do! When I’m finished up here I’ll go and fetch you another one.” She chirps and you turn back to the shelves, grabbing two fresh pencils from the mason jar next to the ink pots.
You end up having more than you can carry out to Penny in one trip and Dorothy eagerly helps you with your haul saying she needs an excuse to sneak away from the watchful gaze of her mother.
“She’s saying that once the Thompson boys are a little older, they’ll come courtin’ me.” She grumbles, glancing over her shoulder as she helps strap some of the new bags to Penny’s saddle.
“Those boys are still just interested in playin’ robbers and sheriffs, by the time they're old enough you’ll be off starting’ your own store somewhere else.” You comment and she seems to brighten at that.
“You think so? I think I’d be a mighty fine shop owner.” She replies with a sigh.
“That I do, you could have the grandest general store for miles, bet you’ll have folks from all over comin’ through to get your wares.”
“I've been saving every penny I’ve earned or got for birthdays, by the time I’m eighteen I should have enough for a train ticket and maybe enough to rent me a little store front in Bramble Bend.” She says with a grin.
Bramble Bend is the next largest town before the city and a good distance away, if Dorothy is able to make it there you’re sure she can do anything she puts her mind to.
You give Penny a pat as you secure the last of your items and reach into your jacket pocket.
“You keep workin’ hard, Miss Dorothy.” You extend your closed hand to her and when she gives you her open palm you drop two dollars into her hand.
“M-Miss Y/N!” She stammers and looks at you in surprise.
You had already paid for your goods at the register, this was for her.
“Like I said, keep workin’ hard, get outta this town and see the big wide world.” You knew that this was partially you wishing that you could be like Dorothy and go out and experience the unknown, but if you could help her do that…
“Are you sure Miss Y/N? I can’t thank you enough!” She holds the coins to her chest and beams.
You smile and nod as you hoist yourself up onto Penny.
“Now don’t go lettin’ your ma know, she’ll have a fit.” You reply and the girl gives a little laugh.
“Don’t you worry none, I’ll put it in my secret piggy bank.”
You laugh at that and give her a little wave before squeezing Penny’s sides with your heels starting your trek home.
—
The wind tussles the tall grasses softly as you sit in the drying foliage outside of the cow paddock, basking in the late afternoon sun. A few feet from you Rh’yll sits on his haunches scribbling away in the notebook you had purchased for him that morning.
It is almost comical seeing the notebook in his hands, his paws nearly covering the entire thing as he observes it, and you have to physically stop yourself from laughing when you glance at the pencil in his fingers. You almost expect it to snap in his grip.
Despite his size he is surprisingly deft with his hands and he holds the utensil with such gentleness and ease your mind begins to wander to… other places.
You are quick to clear your throat and get back to writing your own notes.
He had promised to write down his alphabet for you since he already knew the English alphabet and common phrases and words for you to work off. And you were tasked in making a list of words you would like to learn as well as words you would like to teach him.
You are distracted however a few minutes later when you hear him softly mumbling and clicking under his breath and you realize he’s double checking his writing.
It’s something so incredibly familiar and human that it catches you off guard.
His head tips up and you realize he’s caught you staring.
“Patience Nrak'ytara-di.” He says and you can’t help the warming of your cheeks.
Tucking a strand of your hair that had been caught by the wind behind your ear you turn to look out at the grazing cattle, their bells tickling softly in the distance.
You do the best to tamp down the fluttering in your heart and heat in your face. You haven’t even seen what’s behind the bone mask covering his face and you feel like a school girl with a crush.
Foolish your mind scolds you and you huff to yourself.
Pulling yourself together you turn back to your notebook and do your best to think of more things to ask of him and more things to teach.
When you go to flex your hand from the early stages of cramping you realize a good amount of time must have passed. The sun is lower in the sky and Rh’yll is watching you patiently.
You blink and straighten up, your spine protesting from your hunched over position.
“Sorry ‘bout that musta lost track of time.” You say, hoping he hasn’t been waiting too long, though you suppose he could have said something to catch your attention.
He simply hums, nonplussed by the wait.
Glancing back down to your own notebook, you leaf through the pages and realize you’ve written more than you thought.
“Looks like I got a bit carried away.” You laugh and show him all the pages.
He trills at that, seeming happy.
“Y/N s’ ch’hkt-a, should be ki’cte thin-de.” It’s rare to hear your name on his tongue and it sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly pull yourself together.
“I intend to be the best student you’ve ever had.” You reply with a confident quirk of your lips.
He trills again at this and a deep warm laugh rumbles from his chest.
“Sei-i, Nrak'ytara-di s’ dhi’rauta.”
—
The next few days literally had you burning the midnight oil, with you staying up well after dark with your oil lamp fully lit pouring over all the information Rh’yll had given you. The Yautja language and alphabet are more confusing than you had anticipated and you have more than a few moments of wondering if you have, in fact, bitten off more than you can chew.
You grumble softly to yourself as you flip through your notebook.
You understand a handful of things now and you plan to inundate your Yautja companion with questions when he comes back around at the end of the week since he had refused to answer your plethora of questions for him unless you asked mostly in Yautja.
He didn’t seem too pleased when you told him the same thing, his mandibles twitching in surprise and irritation. Fair was fair you told him, and by the end of the week you had both made a deal you would ask your questions in each other’s languages.
You curse and flip back a few pages, squinting at the scribbles that you yourself had written. Ugh.
Reaching over to your bedside table you pluck the deer jawbone Rh’yll had given to you into your hands and place it in your lap, the carved text facing upwards.
A little break, you tell yourself from questions to continuing deciphering what was etched into the flat surface of the bone.
When you had told him you would be the best student he ever had, you meant it. Not only would you ask your questions, you’d also show him that you could decipher whatever he decides to give you.
Your face heats up at the idea, whatever he decides to give you… that means you are expecting more… and you realize you like that idea.
—
Jack, much to your chagrin, had in fact shown up the next morning bright and early just like he said he would when you had gone to his ma’s a few days ago to check in on her. You had mentioned you would be moving some hay in the loft and Jack, having just gotten his cast off, had volunteered when he overheard.
You knew that it was just him itching to finally get back to some normalcy and he wasn’t trying to be a pain but still; as you brush your hair from your eyes and wipe your already sweaty brow you can’t help but wish that he had let you sleep in a little.
It’s your own damn fault really, having stayed up well into the night practicing for Rh’yll and now you’re tired and ornery with the day ahead.
You huff and tie a quick knot securing the bundle of hay you were about to toss down to the main level. You can hear the chickens that had ventured into the barn down below, clucking and scratching at the ground, foraging for any grains that had fallen out of the hay.
“Think I got the handle secured again, shouldn’ be fallin’ off anytime soon.” Jack’s voice filters through the open door as he comes walking back to barn, mended pitchfork in his hand.
The chickens scatter at the sudden sound and the stomping of his boots as he approaches and from your perch you watch as one of the hens knocks into the old bucket…the one that you had placed the skull under.
It feels like everything is moving in slow motion, the hens scurrying off, the bucket rolling away and Jack standing in the doorway not five feet from the bleached bone of a human skull you had honestly forgotten you had hidden.
You feel your breath catch, he hasn’t spotted it yet… but if he just turns his head a little bit to the left… you honestly have no idea what you are going to do.
“You doin’ alright up there?” He asks and you realize you’ve been staring. “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I uh… I’m fine, jus catchin’ my breath, lil’ tired.” You say, doing your best to look at him and not the hollow sockets of the skull.
“Shoot, shoulda at least grabbed you a glass of water while I was out there.” He starts apologetically. “Lemme go grab ya some.” He starts to turn and your blood runs icy cold.
“Wait!”
Jack pauses, looking at you in surprise and concern and you know you have to salvage this so how without coming off even more suspicious than you’ve already made yourself.
Brushing more hair out of your eyes you try to make yourself as nonchalant looking as possible.
“At least hand me the pitchfork before you go, I can get some more work done while yer takin’ your sweet time.” You try to sound relaxed as you make a grabby motion with your hand.
That seems to do the trick and Jack laughs and rolls his eyes before sauntering towards you.
You know you only have one chance at this and as he walks towards you to hand you up the pitchfork your fingers tighten in the twine of the bundle of hay you are holding. With one last quick calculation, you lob the bundle over the edge of the loft, praying to whatever higher power exsists beyond that it willland where you are hoping it will.
You breath catches as you watch it bounce and roll past the other bundles you had previously tossed down and neatly settle against the wall, obscuring the skull in its rough reeds.
You grab on to the handle of the pitchfork as Jack hands it up to you almost as if you're in a trance, you had come this close to having your world dissolve into what you can only expect would have been utter chaos.
“Don’t be workin' too hard Miss Y/N, you look like you might keel over at any second!” The man below you teases and your attention is brought back to the present.
You huff at him and wave at him dismissively.
“Is that anyway to talk to a God fearing woman?” You definitely were not “I’m jus’ tired cause I’m the one doin’ the real hard labor.” You stick the prongs of the farm tool into a pile of hay near your feet and lean on it.
Jack laughs and shakes his head.
“Forgive me, fine madame, I’ll bring you your water right away in hopes of getting back in your good graces.” He replies good naturedly.
“Hmmm yes you do that.” Your voice is steady but your heart feels like you assume a rabbits would while being hunted.
He laughs again and turns on his heel, waving at you as he strides out of the barn, right past the skull, none the wiser.
When you deem he’s far enough away and not coming back until he has water in hand you scramble out of the loft, taking the ladder rungs by twos and nearly missing the last four as you bolt across the room and haul the bundle of hay off the accursed item that is currently the bane of your existence.
You hiss and angrily grab at it, hating to handle it even though you know Rh’yll has completely cleaned the thing of any traces of what previously adorned it.
Stomping over to one of the spare grain buckets you begin to dig, muttering under your breath as corn and oats prick your fingers and dig under your nails.
You’re going to give this horrible thing back to him, you should have the moment he gave it to you…
Shoving the skull into the hole you’ve dug, you quickly pile grains over top of it and place the wooden lid back over the bin, sealing it off until you can be rid of it.
You brush off your hands in your skirts and irritability push more hair out of your face. Now your mood has turned even more sour as you trudge back over to the loft ladder and climb back up ready to just be done with the day all together.
—
Jack leaves a few hours after lunch most likely sensing that you are tired and more than ready for him to get out of your hair. You can’t be completely upset with him, he after all was a great deal of help and cut down on the time you’d have to move hay around massively. You offered to let him take some of the deer you had already processed but he had politely declined saying he planned to go hunting anyway in a few days.
Still you sent him home with some extra eggs and some jars of jam from the summer mulberry forage.
Sighing, you decide to give yourself a little sponge bath, to rid yourself of the grim and sweat of the day before collapsing on the couch to rest for a bit.
The wool filled cushions feel like heaven as you sprawl across them enjoying the cool fall breeze as it filters in through the open windows.
You stay like that for a time, not quite falling off into sleep but toeing the line of someplace in between the waking world and the land of dreams.
You're not entirely sure how long you enjoy the peace of the afternoon before you pull yourself up and get ready for evening chores, but it can’t be too long as you still have a good amount of daylight, as the golden rays burn low across the prairie.
Feeling a bit more rested, you jog upstairs to grab your notebook and leather satchel, knowing that Rh’yll will be showing up in the next hour or so and you are ready to rub your hard work in his face.
You grab the jaw bone off your nightstand as well and tuck it into the satchel alongside the notebook making your way back downstairs and out the front door, making a beeline for the barn.
You are going to dig the hideous skull out of the grain bucket and give it back no matter how much of a fight he puts up.
—
Rh’yll is surprisingly punctual for a creature of odd origins.
He comes to crouch in the grass not far from you observing and listening in silence as you call the cows in.
You catch him plucking at the tufted ends of the prairie grass as it sways in the evening breeze and you can’t help but smile and think how it looks so oddly gentle and innocent.
The cows are completely used to him at this point and they graze lazily, occasionally looking at him curiously No doubt hoping his now frequent visits might result in some sort of treat or friendly pats to the hindquarters.
You join him in the grasses, crossing your legs and neatly adjusting your skirts before swinging your satchel over your hip and into your lap. You’re so close to him your knees almost touch and your swear to the heavens above you do not focus on his covered crotch as he moves from his crouch to mimic your sitting position, cloth at his groin dangerously close to giving you a peek as he adjusts.
You clear your throat and pull out your notebook, ready to show him your hard work.
Rh’yll watches eagerly as you flip through the pages.
“Nrak'ytara-di s’ nracha-dte s’ jkui bpi-de s’ thin-de ki’cte.” He rumbles, voicing sounding low and pleasant.
You pause to look up at him and give him a small smile.
“Ki’sei, Ki thin-de kainde.” You reply, knowing your words are still stilted and your pronunciation off but still Rh’yll purrs happily, nodding his head in approval.
From one of his many pouches he produces the notebook you gave him, it looks a bit worse for wear and you are quite certain but decide to ignore what very much looks like dried blood on the cover of it.
“I have learned…studied hard, impress Y/N.”
Your grin showing him your teeth and beneath his mask you see him bare his teeth to you, which would have been terrifying if you didn’t know he was mimicking you, now that he knows that it indicates happiness in humans.
“Well now cowboy, I see yer givin’ me a run for my money.” You reply and he tilts his head, bone and metal clinking in his tendrils.
“No run from Y/N.” He says, and the softness his tone takes nearly knocks the wind out of you.
Again you clear your throat, cheeks feeling hot and he seems to loom closer into your personal space as if making his point.
Despite the fact he’s been living in the woods and you aren’t entirely sure of his bathing habits, this close he smells nice, a comforting, arid scent of dried sweet grasses, sun heated stones and warm well loved leather.
You can feel the heat of your cheeks spreading down your neck and settling low in your belly and you shift in your seated position. Heart galloping in your chest and you realize you need to get a hold of yourself, you don’t even know what he looks like under the mask.
“Ah, it’s a human expression.” You finally manage, stumbling somewhat over your words. You reach back into your satchel, ready to distract yourself from your wandering treacherous mind.
“Ooman have strange expression.” He says leaning back and you mentally breathe a little sigh of relief.
“Well I'm just the messenger.” You reply, hoping your dry humor will clear the air…at least for you.
Pulling the jaw bone out of your bag you also rest it in your lap, this catches his attention.
“S’ yeyin sain’ja s’ dhi’rauta nrak’ytara.” You say as you trace the letters carved into the bone, Rh’yll watches you with rapt attention.
“Old Yautja saying.” He replies softly when you look up at him, and he cocks his head. “Sain’ja must think when protecting, h’ko s’yuit-de or face dhi’ki-de s’ Paya.”
You frown and look back down at the jawbone in your lap and the words etched into them. The tinkling of the adornments in his tendril and heat of his sudden closeness cause you to look up again.
What you don’t expect is the index talon of his large hands to tap ever so softly against your forehead.
“Y/N is smart, thinks before act, to protect…both a warrior and guardian. S’ yeyin sain’ja s’ dhi’rauta nrak’ytara.” He withdraws and you stare at him, your stomach doing somersaults.
“Under the mask…what do you look like?” you have a sudden need to see him without the bone covering in the way, an urgency to feel closer.
Rh’yll observes you for a moment and you briefly wonder if you have offended him, maybe he’s not allowed to take it off or it’s rude to ask about it.
Then he slowly brings a clawed hand up to the front of his mask; he pauses again and you hold your breath. You hear a soft hiss of air from behind the bone and he adjusts his grip as he pulls the covers away from his face.
You're not sure what you expected to see beneath the pale bone, but the completely alien, inhuman face causes you to take in a small breath.
Deep, wide set eyes peer back at your, deep amber in color almost like jarred honey or mined citrine. He has a lack of lips, jagged sharp teeth on full display framed by twitching pointed mandibles. Like the mask that previously concealed his face, his skull followed at sloped elongated pitch with a small crest that then led to his thick mane of tendrils.
You feel like you should be terrified, he was terrifying as he sat not a few feet from you, observing you with those keen eyes. But for some reason you couldn’t find it in your heart to be truly scared of him, surprised yes but not put off or ready to run for the hills to scream about the demon by your cow paddock.
His mandibles vibrate and he lets out a small sound, prompting you to react and you realize you've been staring for what is most likely far beyond being polite.
An image of what he reminds of you of suddenly pops into your head and before your brain can catch your mouth the words tumble out.
“Prairie lizard.”
He reels back at this, clicking softly and looking indignant and you laugh at the reaction, unable to stop yourself.
“No prairie lizard, Yautja.” He says and you feel like he is in his own way pouting.
You do your best to stifle your laughter and get a hold of yourself, if he wanted to, you know he is very capable of killing you for your transgressions. Leaning back you smile at him genuinely.
“Biggest, handsomest prairie lizard that I ever did see.” The handsome part comes out before you can stop yourself and you hope he doesn’t catch it or he can’t translate it but quickly he perks up at that.
He leans forward, soft clicking and purr rising in his throat, amber eyes boring into with deep intensity.
You lean back but his reach is further as he moves his face inches from your own.
You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin and watch as he blinks slowly and lazily at you before closing his eyes and tilting his head forward, his forehead pressing to yours as a deep purr rumbles through his chest and encompasses you.
The cows shuffle off in the distance, their bells tinkling softly as the wind rustles the prairie grasses and the sun sinks lower on the horizon, golden and heavy. The world around you continues to move, but all that matters is the small shelter you find yourself in right now.
—
“Y/N s’ ch’hkt-a, should be ki’cte thin-de.” = Y/N is very eager, should be a quick learner.
“Sei-i, Nrak'ytara-di s’ dhi’rauta.” = Yes, small guardian is cunning.
“Nrak'ytara-di s’ nracha-dte s’ jkui bpi-de thin-de ki’ct = Small guardian is a hard worker/relentless the pages are nearly filled, learns quickly.
“Ki’sei, Ki thin-de kainde.” = I agree, I studied hard.
“S’ yeyin sain’ja s’ dhi’rauta nrak’ytara.” = A brave warrior is a wise guardian.
thinking about michael waking you up with his face between your thighs and grinding himself against the mattress because your moans are just too much (18+)
word count; 1.5k
a/n; wrote this at 5am so forgive me if there’s mistakes. i wanted something to fill in the gap while i continue my next fic as i’m gonna be busy this weekend. one shots are not my expertise as you all know i get carried away. hope you enjoy!!
You were dreaming about something soft, probably the way silk feels when it slides off a hanger. Something formless and warm, something that made your body sink deeper into the mattress, your fingers curling into the pillowcase, your breath slowing to match the rhythm of your pulse.
Then there was a tickle on the inside of your thigh, subtle, but there.
You didn't wake up right away. Your body registered it first, the wet, open press of lips dragging slowly up the sensitive skin, so close to where you were still swollen and warm from sleep. Your legs shifted apart without your permission, some unconscious recognition of what was already happening.
His mouth trailed higher.
Your fingers found his hair before your eyes opened. That was the tell, the way you reached for him without thinking. The curls were soft under your fingertips, still a little damp from his own sleep and you carded through them absently, still half in that dream, still not quite here.
“Mikey—”
It came out before you understood why. His lips had traced the crease where your thigh met your hip, the sensitive spot that always made you flinch and the sensation was too ticklish, too much for a body that wasn't fully awake yet. You squirmed, giggled, the sound drenched with sleep and surprise, your thighs pressing together around his head.
He didn't stop. He hummed against your skin, the vibration sinking into you, his hands sliding up to grip your hips and hold you open. His thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you wider and the giggle died in your throat because now you understood.
“Oh…” You breathed.
He lifted his gaze to you from between your legs. His eyes were heavy-lidded with that lingering fatigue, his lips parted and already slick. The morning light came through the curtains in a thin beam, highlighting the curve of his cheekbone and the shadow of his lashes. He was beautiful like this.
His mouth hovered over your pussy, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your clit and he watched you the entire time, watched the familiarity settle into your face, watched your lips part, watched your hand tighten in his hair.
“Morning, baby.” He murmured, before lowering his mouth and drawing your clit between his lips.
Your back arched off the mattress. The sound you made was involuntary, something between a gasp and a moan, your thighs trying to close around his head again but his hands were there, firm on your hips, holding you open and still. His tongue dragged a painfully slow stripe through your folds, flat and warm, moving from bottom to top before circling your clit in tight, focused motions.
“So pretty...” He breathed against you. The words vibrated against your sensitive skin, making your hips jerk. “So fucking pretty, baby.”
He closed his eyes.
That was the part that undid you. The way his lashes fell, the way his brow furrowed like he was concentrating on something untouchable, the way his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, using his whole mouth with a careful consideration. Not teasing, not playful, but with sincerity. Like this was the thing he’d been dying to do since the moment he opened his eyes this morning, like he'd been laying there watching you sleep and deciding exactly where he wanted his mouth.
His hips moved against the mattress.
You almost missed it. Your vision was blurring, your head pressing back into the pillow, but you caught it, the subtle roll of his body, the way his hips ground down into the bed unconsciously, like they were being driven by pure instinct and little awareness. He was hard, he had to be. The friction was intuitive, something his body did without permission because the sounds you were making, the way your fingers twisted in his curls, the way your pussy pulsed against his tongue, it was too much for him to stay still.
He groaned against you and the vibration made you cry out.
“Mikey, I…” You didn't finish. His tongue was doing something absurd, alternating between broad, flat licks and the tight, focused pull of his lips around your clit. Every time he sucked, your hips bucked up into his mouth, your thighs trembling against his shoulders.
“Stay right there.” He whispered, his lips dragging down to trace your entrance, shallow and teasing, before he pulled back to look at you. His mouth was wrecked, his lips glossy with your arousal and his chin was wet. He looked like he'd been ruined by you, not the other way around. “Stay right there, beautiful. Let me taste you.”
He pressed his face back into you and ate you out like his life depended on it.
There was no other way to describe it. The way his tongue worked relentlessly, the way his lips sealed around your clit and pulled with a pressure that made your vision go white, the way his fingers dug into your thighs like he was anchoring himself.
He wasn't gentle anymore, he was ravenous. Every drag of his tongue was intentional, every pull of his lips was calculated, the kind of head that felt less like foreplay and more like worship, like he was trying to memorise the way you tasted so he could return to the thought later when he was alone with his hand sheathed around his hard cock.
“Shit.” You gasped, your hand fisting in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against you as your hips buckled slightly when his tongue hit that spot. "Oh my God, Mikey."
His cock dragged against the mattress again, harder this time, the movement jerky and desperate, his hips stuttering against the sheets. The sound he made was muffled against your pussy and the vibration hit your clit at the exact right moment, sending a shockwave through your entire body.
“You taste so good..” he panted, pulling back just long enough to say it, his lips swollen from the contact. His eyes found yours, glazed over with a mixture of desire and something unspoken. “Baby, you taste so fucking good I don’t even—”
He shut himself up and dived back in. His tongue was ferocious, curling against your entrance before sliding up to circle your clit, his lips sealing around it, working with a rhythm that had your thighs shaking and your heels digging into the mattress. He squeezed your legs gently, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin, holding you open, holding you still, keeping you right where he wanted you.
“You’re so pretty like this.” he breathed against your pussy, the words barely coherent, distorted by your skin. "So pretty, baby. I need to wake you up like this more often..”
The praise hit you somewhere deep. Your hand tightened in his curls, your hips rolling up into his mouth, chasing the friction and that sweet release. He let you. He moaned when you did it, his hips grinding into the mattress in a cadence similar to yours, his cock rutting against the sheets. His body moved with yours like you were connected, like the sounds you made were pulling something out of him he couldn't control.
“I’m close…” you breathed. “Mikey, I’m so close.”
He pulled harder. His tongue flicked against your clit in quick, focused strokes, those of a man who had a goal and knew exactly how to hit the target. His lips were tight and his cheeks hollowed, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers dug into your thighs, his hips pressing into the mattress in short, desperate thrusts, chasing a release he wasn’t going to get.
You came with his name in your mouth.
“Oh Michael! Fuck—”
The orgasm rolled through you in waves, your thighs clenching around his head. Your back arched to the point it ached, your fingers tugging at his hair. Your clit pulsed rapidly against his tongue, but he didn't stop. He soothed you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, dragging through your folds in soft, languid passes while your body trembled and the aftershocks rippled through you in electric pulses.
When he finally pulled back, his mouth was a mess. His lips were swollen, his chin slick, his cheeks flushed. He pressed one last open-mouthed breath to your inner thigh, then crawled up your body, his hips settling between your legs. His cock dug into your thigh, hard and hot through his boxers, the material stretching across the diameter.
“Morning, beautiful.” he murmured against your skin, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.
You were still trembling. Your hand found his cheek, your thumb dragging across his wet lower lip, and he caught it between his lips, slow, tender, his eyes closing again. He looked wrecked. Ruined. Like eating you out had done something to him that he hadn't expected, that he was still recovering from.
“You..” you managed, your voice wrecked. “Are not allowed to wake me up like that every morning.”
He grinned.
“Baby..” he whispered, pressing his mouth to yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “I’m gonna wake you up like that every single morning.”
michael’s daughter!reader who goes by birdie more than her actual name. michael heard her singing around the house when she was little, told her she sounded as beautiful as a songbird. prince yelled out “birdie” and the nickname stuck ever since.
michael’s daughter!reader who is spoiled beyond belief but still humble. michael can’t resist spoiling his youngest daughter, but always reminds her that just because they’re privileged doesn’t mean they’re better than anyone else.
michael’s daughter!reader who went to auntie janet’s dancing school of cuntology, and went on to be a majorette dancer in college, and has headlined plenty of major tours.
michael’s daughter!reader who loves going shopping with her aunties latoya and janet making sure she keeps up with the latest fashions and giving them a small runway show in the fitting room.
michael’s daughter!reader who is exceptionally close with her siblings. being born right between paris and bigi, she’s the perfect middle child.
michael’s daughter!reader who is michael’s favorite child… at least that’s the running joke between the siblings. they all know michael would never actually pick favorites, but being the youngest daughter and sharing more noticeable vitiligo with their dad definitely earns birdie a few extra “favorite child” allegations from prince, paris, and bigi.
michael’s daughter!reader who loves her cousins genevieve, randy jr, jaafar, and jermajesty the most because they’re closest to her age (and if she’s being honest, their family is so large, they’re the only ones she can really keep up with)
michael’s daughter!reader who loves teasing her uncles and dad as they get older and don’t fully understand how to operate technology and social media
michael’s daughter!reader who’s very overprotective of her father, especially when it comes to the media. learning how horribly the press treated him in 80s/90s, birdie always says if you’re not gonna step to her father correctly, then don’t step to him at all.
michael’s daughter!reader who’s never tried to hide her vitiligo. the patches on her skin just become another part of who she is, no matter how many ridiculous headlines the media writes. having a dad who understands that kind of scrutiny better than anyone means she grew up knowing she never had to apologize for something she couldn’t control.
This one is pure smut because I can not imagine anything else at the moment. MDNI. Gender neutral reader.
Giving head to Daniel was like a ritual, already he was slightly hesitant to allow you to do something for him. He was more of a giver than a receiver in the bedroom but all you had to do was give him a doe eyed like and bat your eyes and he would do just about anything for you. Man was a yearner after all.
So when you got him in your bedroom, laid back, on your bed naked, a few bees flying around, your mouth was already taking him down.
Daniel was a quiet guy, but right now he was moaning, groaning, hus voice deep as he gripped the sheets. Careful with his hook to not rip a hole in the mattress (again).
Bobbing your head up and down, his eyes were screwed shut, his head thrown back against the pillow, trying not to thrusts his hips so you moved one of your hands to his balls and he was done for. Thrusting up into your mouth moaning.
He didnt want to cum in your mouth, he thought it was rude but then your tongue flicked his tip amd he couldnt stop himself.
"I'm sorry-" he moaned out but then you SWALLOWED, pulling off of him with a smirk with a sinful lick of your lips and he suddenly understood the reason why people enjoyed oral.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Reader is depicted as female, tooth rotting fluff.
When you first found out, Daniel was absolutely enchanted by you, he was perfect, so damn sweet constantly to you. He was worried about you and the baby. Anything you needed he was there.
As soon as the embryo had developed enough to hear Daniel was constantly talking to your stomach.
"I know your mother is so beautiful, even when she looks ready to murder me."
You give him a half hearted glare your body was aching, stomach hurting either the weight of your child.
I feel like he would have a blast helping make the nursery, he's got one hand however he does have friends and so do you.
"My darling look I made the baby a bee mobile." Daniel would say while holding it up all proud.
He is ready for hormones, he's read the books and is absolutely fascinated by how much Science has found out about the body.
Cravings? On it.
Youre sad? He has tissues.
Then in labor, the man is a mess. He knows you should be alright, but he cant help but worry. Pacing, wanting the doctors to take away all of your pain. He let's you damn near break his hand, all he can do to help you.
Then a cry breaks through everything, all the worry, all the anger he's ever held. A cry breaks through it all.
He sobs first time holding your child, almost doesnt want to give them back to the nurse so they can check the baby out.
He knows you need to recover so absolutely is ready to take over as much as he can.
"My darling I will have the bees sting you if you get out of bed one more time."
"Dani, I need to shower."
"I'll come with you 🥰." He means it in a sweet way.
He doesnt need sleep and loves being up late with your baby. It's just them, he sings to them, tells them stories.
Sometimes you walk in on them, and just watch the scene, the soft glow of a nightlight filling the room, Daniel in a rocker singing to your baby.
The hook? He baby proofed it. Bubble wrap, pillows, he's got it on lock down.
Post pregnancy body? He's there, giving you space, helping you in any way he can. If you dont feel beautiful he'll kiss every inch of you, help you find your spark again.
Can you give us for the date night thing rusty home and nsfw plslslslsldldl
🚚
●He gets surprisingly creative for date nights. He snuck in the house while you were running errands- never hinting that he'd be home early from his long trip. He got everything ready just in time for when you got back: music on, lights dim, flower petals littering the floor (he knows it's cheezy but he's gotta go big for your monthly date night...)
●You heard the music from the driveway- immediately dropping your shopping bags and running inside. Rusty is waiting by the front door- knowing you'll be jumping into his arms full speed
●You almost knock him out- lips crashing into his as he carries you inside, clothes peeling off as he brings you straight to the bedroom
●The two of you fuck in each room, at least once. Starting off on the bed and eventually making your way to the kitchen, naked, for drinks and a few bites of food. Despite being together for years- you still manage to make each other giddy like the first day you met
●Rusty's hands travel the length of your body- mouth coming to kiss and nip at any available spot as soon as you let your guard down. Any chance he gets, he's pushing his length deep into you- fingers bruising your soft skin as he holds you in place. You're exhausted by now, but his stamina is still holding strong
●You attempt to throw on a robe and go outside to pick up the bags you dropped on the way in- but he's following you outside: his hands attempting to yank the robe off you (he's still completely naked, unashamedly) You feel your face hot with embarassment- worried what the neighbors will think (plot twist, he doesn't have any) And before you know it- he's fucking you outside under the stars
🦇☽☾ Quinn 🦇☽☾ @th33finalenby - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
titsay
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
gummygunk
