JUNKIE 🪽

this is what it’s like to come back to tumblr after being offline for a couple of days..

getting all excited cus i get to read all the fics i missed 😫

NOW SHOWING…

PEACHES INTERLUDE, Michael Jackson

synopsis— In which your pervy bestfriend tries to turn over a new leaf but ultimately he’d just been too obsessed with you.

content— sexually explicit content MDNI, a little plot if you squint, somnophilia, mentions of menstruation, pet names, dirty talk, edging, thigh fucking, clit slapping the holy grail, p in v lazily morning sex.

🪽 junkie — took a dip in the pervy!michael pool. Inspired from this post. hope you enjoy babess, mwuahh!

Michael had always loved you with his hands before he even knew what it meant.

An arm slung lazily around your shoulders while the two of you laughed over some ridiculous story. A quick hug the moment you opened your apartment door. His thigh finding its usual place against yours whenever movie nights stretched past midnight. It had become second nature over the years, just another language the two of you spoke after growing up side by side.

Until you and his family unknowingly changed everything one evening at the Jackson family BBQ.

“She’s just having one of those days Michael,” Latoya told him, noticing how you’d been too yourself that evening. That bubbly personality of yours replaced with moody swings and sugary craving. “Us women go through this phase and dont always wanna be touched..”

“Don’t take it to heart”

It was meant to reassure him but Michael tucked those words away like it was gospel. Because he was the kind of person that stores tiny pieces of people away like sacred instructions.

"I know, LaToya," he murmured but something just kept gnawing at him.

Michael leaned back against the kitchen counter as he watched you through the window, sitting next to Janet on the porch steps, arms wrapped around your knees. Peeking around the archway as his mother encouraged you back into the home something was definitely wrong. You'd been... different lately. Flustered. Avoiding his casual touches. Avoiding the easy closeness that had been second nature since childhood.

Then came him brothers. The ones who noticed the way he’d boyishly lit up whenever your name came up. They’d watched every single perverted primal urge that you’d found so charming in their brother. Like the way his big brown boyish eyes would go soft and needy the second you walked into the room.

Always finding an excuse to sit beside you and never thinking twice before making himself at home. Parading an absolute natural possession over you, sitting your ass against the throbbing center of his lap whenever the couch had become too crowded.

Or how Michael would let your necklace slip free and It was never accidental. He’d play it off so smoothly, a quiet ‘Hold still, peach’ leaving his lips as his long fingers slipped inside your dress

Michael had turned those little "fixes" into an art form. his fingers deliberately grazing the soft, heated skin of your chest as he retrieved the delicate chain. He’d linger just a second longer than necessary, thumb brushing the swell of your breast before pulling the necklace free, his jaw tightening as he felt his dick jump behind the zipper of his jeans.

No it had to be the birthdays. Yes, every birthday. Without fail. While his sisters got wrapped presents and party hats, you got his mother's signature cake. Three layers of warm cake, wrapped in the most perfectly whipped buttercream you'd ever tasted served exclusively by Michael. Just his fingers. Just you as he watches your throat work as he fed you, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth more than necessary, eyes dark as your lashes fluttered.

Both Michael and his brothers knew exactly what that was. That wasn't boyish attachment. That was marked territory.

“Damn Mike,” Jackie teased, “Your nose gets wider every time she walks in.”

“Yeah and quit hangin’ all over the poor girl,” Jermaine Laughed, giving Randy a quick nudge to the elbow. “Leave us room for a chance.”

Randy snorted at Jermaine's joke but Michael’s amusement faded instantly, replaced by something harder. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring at the mere suggestion.

But later that night lying awake, every moment he’d ever had with you replayed itself in painful detail. Every casual invasion of space he'd taken for granted. Each touch, whispered word, and accidental press of hips. Especially those hot afternoons spent tangled beneath blankets, television long forgotten as Michael whispered the sweetest sounds in your ears as you rubbed your squishy pussy to his voice.

His fingers curled into tight fists as he remembered dinner and the way your body stiffened when he ran his fingers up your thigh. Cursing silently to your self as they unknowingly wandered dangerously close to the source of womanhood taking its course before you stopped them.

Leaving him wondering did he get too handsy with you?

From then on, Michael had become more careful and somehow that made everything worse because you noticed every single change.

At first you’d thought it had just been your imagination. Then days had passed, and your best friend who’d couldn’t seem to exist beyond three of you, started to treat you as if you were something he was no longer compelled to touch. The silence was suffocating and the easy, unspoken language of touch that had defined your friendship for years was suddenly... gone. And suddenly the absence of his touch became louder than his laughter.

You tried to play it off, telling yourself it was just busy schedules and growing pains but somewhere along the way, you found yourself mourning little things that never seemed important before.

The soft wet kisses peppered along your shoulders, the ghost of his tongue chasing away the droplets after your swims. The grounding pressure of your spine settling along the hard line of him during long movies. That habit of dipping his fingers beneath your dresses, cupping the warm heat of your pussy. Forever reminding you that he was never too busy to take care of you.

So naturally, you assumed the only thing that made sense. Perhaps whatever had always existed so effortlessly between the two of you had only ever mattered to you. You assumed you'd misread everything. Those years of intimacy, the obsession disguised as affection, the way he took care of your body. it had only ever mattered to you.

The realization broke you slowly because even when he was sitting right beside you, that greedy boy who naturally lived inside your personal space, was no longer there. In his place was a polite, careful version who kept his hands to himself. He laughed with you, listened to you, treated you with terrifying perfection but never touched you.

The unspoken tension followed the two of you for weeks, neither of you were brave enough to ask the question that sat stubbornly between you. He’d found every excuse in the book to keep you at arms length. Refusing to stay over, heading home before it got too late or settling for the stylish stuffy couch in your living room. Like laying in your bed crossed a boundary he suddenly convinced himself existed.

"I'm tired, gotta get home." It was his prized excuse. His excuse to not fall asleep with your legs tangled together. To stop touching you entirely. And tonight, as his fingers gripped that stupid throw, something in you finally snapped.

“Michael…” you sighed softly, your voice soft with genuine confusion, “We’ve slept together since teenagers, w—what’s suddenly the issue?”

The room went dead silent. Michael's hand paused mid-grab on the blanket, his knuckles white against the fabric. The question hit him like a physical blow, a direct assault on the carefully constructed walls.

"Nothing's the issue," he said quickly, his voice clipped and controlled. A polite, practiced tone that sounded entirely wrong. "Just tired, peach. Got an early call tomorrow."

“A call? Really Michael.. You’ve made time for me over things that— you know what..” you scoffed, slipping beneath the cool sheets. A disappointing cloud of defeat lingering over you. “J—Just cut the lights on your way out..”

The words hovered between you two, heavy and final. Michael just stood there, staring at you beneath the sheets. Eyes avoiding his as the soft defeat in your voice sounding like you'd already convinced yourself you'd lost. The dismissal hurt, and because the casual assumption that he'd just... leave... gutted him.

He'd deserved that. He'd earned that.

The silence stretched, thick with everything he wanted to say and everything he was terrified to admit. Soon the lights to your bedroom cut off with a deafening click, a dark aching loneliness settled into your chest as you waited for the screeching tremble of your screen door closing.

Till you felt a familiar warmth climbing into the empty space beside you. Still perfectly molded just the way he’d left it. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and the familiar scent of you wrapped around him like it always had.

His weight settled against you in that perfect, practiced way, your spine slotting against his chest like it had been carved for him. One arm slid under your neck, the other draped over your waist. Finding the exposed skin of your stomach, pulling you back until your curves fit his lean lines like a secret.

It felt like coming home and for the first time in days, he wasn’t forcing himself to keep his distance.

Beside him, you smiled into the darkness, relieved that he'd finally come back. His fingers trailed aimlessly on your stomach, occasionally dipping beneath the silk to graze the top of your hip bone like he'd done a thousand times. Curing the weeks of every misread intimate gesture.

Neither of you realized you were grieving the very same loss, or that the distance between you had only ever been built from two perverted hearts trying far too hard not to hurt the other. Terrified the obsession had finally become too obvious.

Something that had belonged to eahcother and always would, no matter how far the two of you strayed from it.

That’s how Michael found you whining for those perverted touches in your sleep.

He stirred slowly, his mind foggy before the weight against his chest registered. Blinking down at the pretty mess sprawled over him-your spine curved perfectly against his warmth, one silk strap fallen away to reveal a hard nipple peeking past the fabric. Testing the last thread of gentleman like obedience had.

The delicious view of your chest. That warm, heavy swell barely contained was enough to have his hand moving before his brain caught up. Fingers wandering all across your body, squeezing every inch of skin he could grasp. Slipping beneath that fallen lace, thumb brushing the exposed nipple. Hard and pretty.

His jaw tightened, groaning as you arched your ass against his thickening length. Chasing the ghost of his touch in your sleep. Pretty face twisted in some sweet dream that had you begging for the exact thing he'd been torturing himself over—his hands, his mouth, his obsession.

Your soft whimpers cut through the silence. Mouth parted, lips puffy and swollen, muttering a desperate, needy noise that was pure, innocent greed that sounded too much like what he'd been starving for.

“Right here sweet girl…” he swore beneath his breath, voice rough with unshed need. "What are you dreaming about, hmm?"

Michaels eyes fluttered shut, a blissed frown nestled into his face as his entire body alive with need. he gave your chest a gentle squeeze, thumb stroking harder against the sensitive peak. Rolling it between his fingers before giving a firm pinch, just the way you loved.

And he never missed any of your whispered pleas, murmuring the one name you trusted, that you knew would take care of you. Reminding him exactly how spoiled you were by his affection. A perverted devotion you didn't realize you owned completely.

Michael’s control was already splintering, cracking under the weight of your needy, unconscious desperation. His large hand smoothed down your spine, fingers digging into your hip to pull you closer, giving himself a good feel of your plush curves against his thick, aching erection.

His hips rolled instinctively against your softness, grinding the sheet away. Your sleepy whines were too much, too real, too fucking perfect. Demolishing every polite excuse he'd built. Big hand splayed across your tummy, twitching as his fingers traced the slicked trim of your panties.

“It’s hurts trying to go without it huh?” Nosing behind your ear, abandoning any last shred of gentlemanly decency. Cupping that warm, familiar flesh he knew better than his own pulse. “To just try and turn over a new leaf..”

Michael felt every curve, every swollen fold beneath the warm silk. Your pouty little pussy practically pushing out against the fabric. It was torture, because this wasn't just friendship. This was love wrapped in filth.

“But it’s ok, m’gonna make it feel so much better mama..” he whispered, voice thick with sleep as he watched the fabric darken under his touch.

The admission was there, raw in the dark. He was fucking done pretending this was anything but what it was, what it always had been.

His thumb found the soaked crotch of your panties, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the silk. Right where your clit hid beneath the fabric. Already so wet. Always so fucking wet.

That familiar, sweetly filthy promise of relief, of worship, made your hips buck against his invading hand. Arching deeper into the cradle of his hips, as he leaked against the thin fabric of his briefs.

“Yeahhhh, that feels so much better doesn’t it?” Michael’s lips brushed the shell of your ear. His voice a low, sinful rumble as those long fingers hooked beneath the flimsy silk, landing three heavy— plap plap plap to your clit. “Go on and wake up f’me peach..”

Michaels jaw stayed firm against your neck as his eyes watched your face scrunch up in hazy confusion. A soft moan escaping your lips as his fingers lazily slid through your pooling slit.

You could feel the slick beat of your clit pulsing right against a familiar warmth. Sharp and dizzying with every breath as your eyes fluttered open, thick and hazy with sleep.

Your voice was barely barely there, “M—Mikey..?”

The tension in the room shifted, healed by the mere sound of his name. The sound of it, soft and confused, made his pulse hammer once against your neck. Cooing at the slight roll of those clouded eyes as you came too

“There you are,” He huffed out a relieved chuckle, peppering wet kisses along your jaw. “Good morning pretty..”

Each kiss was warm and soft, grounding that sleepy confusion with each drop of his lips to your pretty face.

“Missed you s’much..” he slurred softly, growing drunk off the sticky slick staining his fingers. “Tried to be a g-gentleman, I really did try peach..”

“But I just can’t help it..”

Your brain was still sticky with sleep, drowning in the overwhelming sensation of three long fingers lazily swirling over the damp silk, coating your folds in your sweet glaze. Making the ache between your legs unbearable as your hips twitched helplessly, confused but greedy. Chasing the familiar, perverted rhythm you’d always been spoiled with.

“Especially when I know you only get this wet dreaming of me don’t you?” he murmured against your ear, "Been so good being patient for me.."

You nod, face flushed hot, heart pounding in your ears. The hazy dream of being pressed under him, taken so good you couldn't breathe still fresh on the brain as Michael freed himself. The heavy length of him nestled perfectly against the curve of your ass

“I K—Knew it..” He moaned out, fingers spreading you apart gently as he positioned himself between your legs. “Gosh I knew it baby..”

The weight of him was grounding and terrifyingly comforting as Michael slid effortlessly between your slick thighs, nesting against your folds.

You clenched helplessly around nothing, embarrassingly wet, as you desperately pressed up against him. Threading your fingers into his soft coils nuzzling him closer against your hot skin. Cheek to cheek as his hips roll, dragging the hot, length of his dick through your puffy folds. A wet, filthy glide that had him dragging along your clit.

“Missed you s’much..” Your voice cracked, fingers tugging gently at his scalp. “P—please don’t do that me again..”

"I won't... I—I swear, I won't.. Never leaving you like that again, I promise." Michael whimpered, his face a mess of affection, guilt, and raw need. "Never again, peach... m’sorry, fuck m’so sorry."

“I was dyin’ without you..”

It was a pathetic broken apology, hoarse against your neck, thick of his guilt mixing violently with relief.

Michael’s dick throbbed, so hard it hurt. Big hands shaking as he gripped your hip, fingers digging into soft flesh as he held you in place. Continuing the slow drag of his cock through your folds. Each pass had that angry crown leaking, catching on your fluttering ring before sliding back down to your clit with agonizing slowness.

“Oh my g— michael, baby.. please..” dropping your heavy head onto his shoulder, rolling your needy little cunt harder against him.

The sound of your pleading, soft, breathless, and absolutely wrecked made his entire body shudder violently. He was starving for it, his hips betraying his control, thrusting up to meet every grind of your pouty pussy. The wet, sloppy drags against your puffy folds were driving the both of you fucking insane.

“Just wanna show you how sorry,” Burying himself in your hair, breathing in that sweet scent you always carried. Voice shattered into pure worship. “Can I? Can I make it all better?

“Please m—mama…”

His Big hands gripping your ass, fingers spreading your cheeks apart. Greeting him with a small glob of creamy slick. Rocking your hips in a perfect, filthy glide. A wet, rhythmic— shlick shlick he'd created for you so many times before. Aching to just push inside and claim you. Fill you up with every ounce of love and obsession he felt.

“Y—Yes, yes.. Please make it better baby..” You whined, glazed eyes fluttering at the teasing pressure of his bulbous flesh. “You always make it better.”

And there was absolutely nothing gentlemanly about how he hooked your knee, spreading you open. Nothing kind about the thick stretch of him pushing into your tight, aching pussy. It was pure relief. An answer. A homecoming.

Michael's lips parted joining the raw moan that left your mouth. Listening to the soft squelching as his hips settle on a pace. A slow, delicious drag back and forth. Working himself in inch by thick inch.

“I know, mama, I know… feels so fuckin’ good doesn’t it?” Michael whined, long fingers digging into your hip. “S’good to be home..”

You nod, arching off the hard line of his chest. The cool rustle of your sheet doing nothing to soothe over the surging heat. You took your sweet time, rolling your tight, sloppy pussy down his length. Hugging him in a tight, greedy embrace that sucked him right back in. You were taking him so beautifully, stretching around that familiar thickness, welcoming him home like he never left.

Michael shuddered, nuzzling into the warm space beneath your ear, the sounds escaping him were almost embarrassing as his pace quickened. Hard and steady as you fluttered to life around every him.

He watched with hungry eyes as your pretty pussy blossomed like a flower, swollen pink folds spreading around his thick head, letting him bottom out every time. Snapping up to meet the softness of your ass, rippling with every stroke.

Michael found himself stuttering for just a second, almost losing it the moment the curve of him found the sweet spot, that special ring that made you the juiciest peach god ever created.

"J-just like that Mikey fuuuck," you mewled, electricity crawling up your spine with each deep pause. Letting the heavy pressure of him settle in your tummy before pulling back out.

"Yeah? Fuck, baby... just like that?" Michael echoed, catching himself mid-moan, choking back a sound that would've been outright begging if he let it out. “You love it there.. F—Fuck, missed my pretty girl so much... missed us...”

He chased the depths of your cunt. Punching the air right out of your lungs with every punishing rock of his hips.

Your pretty face twisted up in that special little pout that only Michael got to see. Brows knit above those watering eyes, thighs trembling while his thrusts grew deeper. Every long stroke was an apology sung in rhythm poking so close to your it had you falling apart.

Your thick arousal stained his angry tip, threatening to splatter with every sloppy thrust. Until it popped free with a wet, desperate stutter, the thick length emerging between the cleft of your soft ass as it slipped free from your fluttering hole.

“So close.. mich..michael s’right there baby, I need youu.”

And before you could even spiral, he was already stuffing you full again. He was so deep, so fucking perfect. Eyes rolling back as as he slid back into the perfect groove of your cunt, every hard inch covered in your sweet cream.

He hooked your knee higher, exposing your soaking, hot folds to the cool air of your room. He could smell you on him—earth, sugar, and desperation all wrapped into one as he worked over that little sweet spot with a deep glide just to feel how buttery soft you were inside.

Those big hands gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at nothing else but him. Face twisted in that stupidly attractive concentration, nibbling on his lip with hooded eyes as he dug every bit of your creamy essence out of you.

“Don’t worry peach,” He panted thumbing at that aching nub until your hips bucked violently, catching onto the heavy curve of him. “m’gonna nghh— m’gonna keep my promise..”

“S—swear, mama.. couldn’t ever break it with you ruining yourself like this..”

Michael nearly lost his mind, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your spine as stays buried deep for a moment. His handsome face flush against yours, dragging the hot length of him through your thick arousal that pooled around his base.

The first hot, heavy rope of him hit the back of your womb, followed by another and another until your womb shivered from how full it was. Filling you up like he always did, like he fucking loved doing.

Looking down Michael slipped himself free, watching the last thick rope of cum stretch from your messy slit, clinging stubbornly before finally breaking free. He pushed a frizzy coil of hair behind your ear and for a second he just looked you over, smiling at your beautifully spent body.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, and a familiar heat pooled in your lower belly when he finally pressed his lips against yours. Slipping his tongue against yours to suckle back into his own mouth, tugging at the flesh hard enough for it pop back in place.

“No more new leafs..” he whispered, dropping another kiss to your sweaty temple.

The silence was heavy and the promise hung sweet in the air, more intoxicating than any whispered confession. Just the two of you breathing, hearts slowing, skin cooling against each other. His thumb continued those soothing circles, grounding you both as the adrenaline faded into sleepy contentment.

"Good," you murmured, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction. Sending a dizzying jolt straight that had him twitching to life again. “Cause change is overrated..”

© 2026 tabloidangel on tumblr.

: ̗̀➛ imagine accidentally falling asleep with your best friend michael, only to wake up to the sweet sounds of his whimpers in the night due to a wet dream...of you. but this time, you decide to help him. 18+ (part ii) !! headphones suggested !!

— ᨳଓ . the heavy quiet of the bedroom was filled only by the soft, sound of the fan, crickets outside and the quiet rustle of cotton sheets. you shifted in the bed, turning toward his side as a faint, pained sound broke through your sleep.

michael was tossing beside you, his long torso tense under the blanket. quiet, shuddering whimpers spilled past his parted lips, his brow furrowed in the dim light as if he were caught halfway between a dream and reality.

softly, you reached out and placed your palm flush against his warm chest, right over the frantic thump of his heart. "michael, wake up."

his eyes snapped open—wide, dark, and filled with instant panic. he blinked rapidly, realizing where he was and how close you were, his chest heaving under your touch. flush crept up his neck, burning hot all the way to the tips of his ears.

"i'm—i'm so sorry," michael stuttered out immediately, his voice raspy from sleep. he tried to pull back, looking thoroughly mortified, his hands hovering nervously over the sheets. "gosh, i didn't mean to—i'm so embarrassed, i hope i didn't wake you, i was just—"

before he could spiral any further, you leaned forward, cupping his warm cheek and cutting off his rambling apology with a deep, lingering kiss.

michael’s breath hitched sharply against your lips. for a split second, he froze in sheer shock, but the moment your warmth settled over him, the tension in his tall frame completely melted.

his long fingers reached up, sliding through your hair to gently cradle the back of your head, pulling you flush against him. a needy, quiet whimper tore from his throat right into your mouth, matched by a soft sigh from your own lips as the kiss deepened.

when you finally pulled back just a fraction of an inch, your lips brushed against his as you breathed out, "let me help you, baby."

michael couldn't form words. his mind was completely fried, wide doe eyes searching yours with a mix of shock and intense relief. all that slipped past his mouth was a soft, high whine, his body twitching helplessly under the duvet.

slipping your hand beneath the covers, your fingers hooked into the soft elastic band of his pajama pants, gently pulling them down just enough to release him into the cool air of the room. your eyes caught the dark, slick bead of precum leaking from the tip, glistening in the faint light.

"you were thinking about me, weren’t you, michael?" you teased softly, your fingers wrapping around his thick length and beginning a slow, easy stroke from base to tip.

"i—i don’t know… i just.. well, yes—" he rambled desperately, his head rolling back against the pillow as his hips gave an involuntary jerk into your touch.

you chuckled softly, leaning down to press a warm kiss to his flushed cheek, then trailing your lips down the sharp line of his jaw to press soft pecks along his throat.

"you could’ve just asked me," you sighed gently against his skin, coming back up to capture his lips once more.

"i was nervous... too scared—to tell you how bad i needed you," he whined, his fingers tightening in your hair as your hand set a steady, intoxicating pace over his wet length.

"well, you don't ever have to be scared with me," you whispered back against his ear, your wrist speeding up just a fraction, guiding him through the steady friction. "just tell me what feels good."

"that—right there, mama... gosh, keep your thumb right there," michael gasped out loud, his chest heaving as his hips began to rise off the mattress to meet every deliberate slide of your palm. "it feels so good... you're strokin' it so perfect..."

your hand kept that fast, relentless rhythm, your other hand resting on his hip to hold him grounded as he completely undid beneath you. "that's it, baby... let go for me," you coaxed softly into his ear.

"i can't—oh god, mama, i'm gonna—"

with a sharp, breathless cry, michael arched his back off the bed, his entire body trembling violently as he came, thick waves spilling over his tummy and your fingers. he let out a long, shuddering sigh, his hands slipping from your hair to rest weak and spent on the mattress.

you smiled softly down at his flushed, glowing face. taking the edge of the sheet, you gently wiped his stomach clean before pulling the heavy duvet all the way back up over both of your shoulders.

michael immediately wrapped his long arms tightly around your waist, tugging you close until your head was resting right over his beating heart.

he pressed a lingering, sleepy kiss to the top of your head, letting out a deep, contented breath as you both melted back into the quiet warmth of the night.

⋆.˚🍸⋆Imagine This-

You’d stayed behind after hours to put the finishing touches on the itinerary and prepare everything for the charity event that Dangerous!Michael was hosting. The workload had taken far longer than either of you anticipated. As always, Michael thanked you for your dedication and the countless sacrifices you made for the sake of his career. No matter how busy he became, he never forgot to remind you how grateful he was for everything you did

Michael strolled into the study around 11:45 p.m., catching you by surprise with takeout from your favorite restaurant, a bouquet of delicate red roses, and a bottle of champagne. Despite his hectic schedule, he’d remembered it was your birthday, and somewhere between the champagne and Michael’s undeniable charm, the late night no longer felt like work. It quickly turned into his seductive stares & his deep voice, turning you on more than you intended

For his final surprise, Michael guided you in front of the full-length mirror, asking you to move your hair aside as he fastened a beautifully encrusted white gold necklace around your neck, adorned with your birthstone. He’d noticed you admiring it weeks earlier during one of his shopping sprees. Hidden on the inside were his initials, delicately engraved—just big enough for you to notice

Just then, the two of you met each other’s gaze in the mirror. Your eyes drifted between the necklace and Michael, only to realize his had never left you. A soft smile tugged at his lips before he leaned in, brushing a trail of gentle kisses along your neck, lingering where the necklace now rested against your skin

The two of you made love for hours after this. Giving him permission to bend you over the desk while he ate your pussy, the only thing he requested was that you kept your hands on wooden table. What you didn’t know was the louder you moaned the more you fed his fire, making him use his tongue even longer until he felt your legs growing weak

You ended up in his bed going round after round. Neither one of you wanted this moment to end, years of built up frustrations finally being released. Watching his dick plunge in and out of you like he couldn’t get enough despite cumming twice, and one of those cumshots filling your insides. The sex was so thrilling between you two that you had completely forgotten about your husband waiting around on you to come home. The two of you did everything possible under the sun. Backshots, missionary, creampies, cumshots to the face, oral, and denying yourselves of an orgasm until the other person caved in first

Everything changed after that day. You went from being the woman behind the scenes to the tabloids’ latest obsession—your boss’s alleged love interest. Your face was suddenly splashed across magazine covers, and no matter how many times you insisted it was “strictly business,” your husband found it harder and harder to believe. Michael insisted on having you at his side at all times

The relentless rumors didn’t help, nor did Michael’s generosity. What had once been a thoughtful birthday gift quietly turned into a monthly tradition, making it nearly impossible to convince your husband there was nothing more between the two of you

But eventually, Michael crossed a line. One night, he called your house well past midnight, knowing your husband would be home. What was meant to catch you off guard instead planted the final seed of doubt, leaving your husband convinced there was far more to your relationship than either of you had admitted. No matter how many times you told Michael it wasn’t okay, he only doubled down on how much he needed you.

The final nail in the coffin came when your husband went through your briefcase. Tucked inside was the handwritten letter Michael had given you weeks earlier, the one that had accompanied a bouquet of flowers you’d never had the heart to throw away. You’d hidden the letter, convincing yourself you’d deal with it later. Then came the second discovery—a pair of underwear. The same pair of underwear that Michael filled with dry cumstains, you’d forgotten to throw them in the wash. By the time you walked through the front door, there was nothing left to explain. In his mind, he’d already put the pieces together

A/N: This is so Mature!michael coded. I love side nigga/ jealous Michael. Comment or message me to be added to my tag list

Taglist: @slugstarzz @18lkpeters @diorzaep @tabloidangel @mikeysfavoritefish @j-nae @loveposiie @blkkbratt @narratedillusions @savagenctzen @applesange1s @yungrapunzel @botdfaholic @barnesnnobles @xoxogossipgirl02 @michaelkisskissgirl @liberiangirl7 @cherrishkissed @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @curlypytclubx @neverstreett @evetheegoonette @prettygurljo

imagine :

michael loves watching you cum 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

𑣲. content: 18+, smut, penetration, dirty talk. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

michael was hovering over you, his broad chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate rhythm. he was entirely consumed, his dark eyes burning with an intense, laser-focused devotion that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

he wasn't in a rush. he shifted his weight with excruciating slowness, rolling his hips forward just enough to make the air catch in your throat before drawing back again. he was utterly obsessed with you—with every tiny, involuntary reaction your body gave him.

his broad, warm hands were clamped firmly on the insides of your thighs, keeping them held steady, feeling the delicate, uncontrollable trembling in your muscles every time he shifted his weight.

"look at you...pretty baby.." he breathed out, his voice a low, raspy velvet that sent a shiver straight down your spine. the tone of his voice heavy and dripping with raw warmth. "look how pretty you look when you're completely undone for me..."

you let out a soft, breathy sigh, your hands reaching up urgently to grip his biceps. your knuckles turned white as your fingers dug into his arms, pulling him down, needing the full weight of him against you.

your eyebrows furrowed into a sweet, frustrated knot as the sensation built up, your head tilting back into the damp pillow while your lips parted into a helpless little pout.

michael let out a soft, breathless laugh against your neck. he lifted himself up slightly on one elbow, using his free hand to catch your chin, tilting your face up so he could watch every micro-expression.

he moved again—a short, deep push that made your back arch right off the mattress—his voice taking on a quiet, teasing edge.

"yeah, baby? right there?" he asked softly, his tone smooth and knowing as he adjusted his angle, driving into that exact spot with agonizing precision. "that where you like it, mama? hmm? tell me."

"michael..." you gasped out, your voice entirely delicate. unable to elaborate any other words.

"don't close your eyes on me, girl," he instructed softly, his voice dropping into a low, quiet command. "keep 'em open. keep those pretty eyes on me. i wanna see you."

your eyelashes fluttered heavily, your vision clouded over with pure heat, but you forced your eyes to stay locked on his.

he leaned down closer, his chest pressing gently against yours, his lips brushing right against the shell of your ear as he kept up that torturously slow, steady rhythm.

"you feel that, baby?" he whispered against your skin, his tone low and soft. "you feel how tight you are around me, mama? yeah? feel so good..."

the wave hit you all at once, taking your breath straight out of your lungs. you held onto his shoulders urgently, your thighs shaking against his sides as you held on like you were drowning. your inner walls clenched against him in tight, rhythmic pulses.

michael felt every single contraction, drawing a sharp, breathy gasp out of his own chest. he held you right against him, his eyes burning into yours as he drank in the sight of you completely overwhelmed, breathless, and totally his.

"that's it, mama..." he murmured softly, his voice thick with deep satisfaction. "just like that, baby... hold onto me."

bad!michael that makes you say affirmations in the mirror... while he fucks you

── .✦

the bedroom was swallowed in dim golden light, the air thick around you. michael had you positioned right in front of the full-length mirror next to the bed, your hands pressed flat against the glass just to keep your feet under you.

his forehead rested against your shoulder blade, his chest working hard against your back. every time he pulled back and drove deep into you, his moans slipped from between his lips — so gentle on the surface, but rough with the way he was working his hips.

"look up, baby," he mumbled against your neck. his voice was so soft, but it left zero room to disobey. "look at how pretty y'are f'me."

gold standard jaafar jackson

jaafar jackson x f!reader ────୨ৎ──── ♡ wc: 11.3k

can u guys tell i missed jaafar

half-edited

dating is hell. plain and simple.

the whole concept of putting on a nice outfit, spending your precious time getting ready, and driving across town just to sit across from a guy who couldn't care less about anything you have to say is exhausting. you weren’t even big on casual dating to begin with, but your friends had spent three weeks nagging you about this guy you’d met at a party — insisting he was sweet, handsome, and totally your type.

he wasn’t.

lazy morning sex with your underwear pulled to the side and his hand up your shirt and his lips at your ear and your hips grinding back into his

otw!michael when he wakes up with morning wood

౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪MORNING DEW | jaafar jackson

the first thing you register is the light. shining through the crack in the heavy drapes. spreading across the tangled white sheets, across the scatter of clothes that you’d left on the floor the previous night. and it spreads across jaafar’s face but he doesn’t stir.

you prop yourself up on one elbow, careful, slow, the mattress barely breathing beneath you. your body remembering last night. the pleasant burn in your thighs. the tender spot on your neck where his mouth had lingered too long. you can still taste him on your tongue.

the clock on the nightstand read eight forty seven and you need to be at the boat dock by ten.

exactly how i visualize my xreader’s in my storiess 😍