#michael Jackson x reader

[a-major-love]

The Time Will Pass

Pairing - Darryl x Neutral!Reader

Summary - The future was coming faster than Darryl would have liked...

Word Count - 742

Warnings - no use of y/n, angst, comfort, established friendship, reader and darryl are 18

A/N - remember how I said this was going to be a fluff piece, well I'm a liar apparently.

1988

Clutter was strewn about all over your bedroom floor, narrowly missing the box with the word DONATE scribbled in thick, black marker on the front. From well loved books with their pages bent, to miscellaneous items of clothing that were hiding in the back of your closet for a year. A pile of notebooks sat on your desk, along with the game Isolation that had somehow lost its two pawns. The board game was now useless, and had a thin layer of dust settled over it. Darryl sat, on a worn out bean bag shoved in the corner of your room, soaking up the sliver of sun that was peaking through your curtains. 

Then there was you, lounging on your bed, lazily flipping through an old Fangoria issue that had been haphazardly shoved in the back of your dresser for three months. 

“I thought you were cleaning your room.”

“I am cleaning,” you said, not bothering to glance at him. “I’m inspecting this magazine, to see if it needs to be thrown away.” 

Darryl scoffed, amused. “Your room looks like a tornado hit it.” 

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” 

He sighed, shaking his head. Yet affection swelled in his chest, quiet and overwhelming. Darryl stretched, reaching his arms toward the ceiling that was littered with blue prismatic star shaped stickers. He remembered one afternoon, walking in to find you balancing on a ladder. When he asked what you were doing, you glared over at him. “I can’t even see the stars from my window, Darryl,” you had complained. “It’s just nothingness, how sad is that?” 

He then spent two hours that day helping you, dragging that ladder across your dull, carpeted floor. Darryl found that the longer he stared up at the stars now, the more he noticed the edges were beginning to peel and curl inwards.  

Nothing gold can stay, right? 

He stood up, and slowly approached your bed, feeling your gaze burn through him. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat by your outstretched legs. You peeked up at him, from behind the magazine, expectantly. 

“You’re leaving this weekend,” he stated, fiddling with his thumbs. 

You sighed, setting the magazine on your stomach. “Yeah, on Saturday.” 

Darryl felt along the words in his mouth, how they sat heavy on his tongue, and contemplated swallowing them. “Are you excited for University?” 

“Of course,” you said, “it’s my one chance to get out of Brooklyn, you know that.” 

“Right,” he mumbled, staring at the floor. A long, stuffy silence hung in the air, as every unasked question between you two began to swell up. 

“You’re headed for Princeton next week, Darryl,” you mentioned, leaning forward to catch his line of sight. “It’s all you talked about growing up, like it was the only University in the entire world. You can’t tell me you’re not excited either.” 

In truth, Darryl was looking forward to attending Princeton. Years of late afternoons and nights spent hunched over textbooks, with notes and pencil shavings cluttering the surface of his desk had paid off. You were there for so many of those nights, a warm presence against his back, with your own nose stuffed in a book. The sound of your pen scratching against your notepad, as you would absentmindedly hum to Jody Watley playing from your headphones. All the while, he would be curled over his desk, muttering equations to himself like a madman. 

He didn’t want to think about you not being there anymore, lounging on his bed as if it were your own, the mattress hugging your already imprinted shape. 

“It’ll be different without you,” he admitted, shrugging as if he could somehow shake off years of your friendship. 

“We’ll still talk, and see each other Darryl,” you said, approaching him. The bed dipped as you curled up beside him, placing your head on his shoulder. Blush rose to his cheeks as your familiar warmth rolled over him, quelling his thoughts. “Long distance isn’t the end of the world,” you assured, intertwining your fingers with his, the curve of your palm fitting perfectly over his own. 

He faintly smiled, and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. Acutely aware of the familiarity coiling around in his stomach at the floral scent of your hairspray. Darryl bathed in the prolonged silence between you two, ignoring the sheer weight of memories pressing down on his hunched shoulders. 

The world spun on. 

[michaelsfavgirl]

through the keyhole

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: While Michael attends to his duties as a devoted husband (taking you to pound town), the maids arrive unnoticed. Drawn by the sinful sounds echoing from your bedroom, they find themselves unable to resist eavesdropping.

Tags: smut, established-relationship (y'all are married <3), OCs, p in v, mating press, voyeurism, creampie, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of drama, legal ramifications, mike being the worlds no. 1 husband.

Word Count: 7.2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Although I'm proud of this, the writing process for this was hell! But anyway, I need detailed reports on what y'all think about everything as compensation, thank you very much.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The noise of the curtains fluttering from the warm wind and the quiet chatter of the TV wakes you from your slumber. It's most definitely way past the acceptable time for a lie-in, probably closer to noon, but you don't care. With the way last night ended, with shared moans bouncing off the walls, no one could blame you. He had been so desperate for your touch after shutting himself in the studio for hours, hungrily taking you again and again until you couldn't string sentences together anymore.

Speaking of the incubus himself, as you open your eyes, before you can even muster up the strength to stretch your sore limbs, you're met with a tantalizing sight of Michael sprawled out on the bed next to you, absentmindedly watching the television. He's leaning against a pillow propped up against the headboard, completely nude. This isn't surprising, but what captures your attention is his soft and heavy length resting enticingly against his thigh, looking as delicious as ever. You try to ignore the slickness pooling between your thighs.

His cock is a sight to behold, thick and veiny, with a prominent ridge running along the underside. The head, peeks out from his uncut foreskin, is swollen and glistening with remnants of your previous night's activities. You  can't tear your eyes away from it, from the way it lays there just waiting for your touch.

You groan inwardly. How is he so nonchalant about this? How can he just sit there, so casually, with his massive cock on full display? Doesn't he know what effect it has on you, how it makes you crave him like nothing else?

You keep staring shamelessly, your eyes trailing every little detail. In your already fuzzy state, you don't notice Michael glancing at you, an amused smile growing on his face as he follows your half-lidded gaze.

Teasingly, he readjusts his body, making his hips thrust upwards slightly, causing his thick cock to bounce a little. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. That sound doesn't even register in your mind until you hear him chuckle. Your eyes dart upwards to his face, feeling your cheeks grow hotter under his amused gaze.

"Enjoying the view, huh?" he teases, and you quickly turn onto your back, facing the opposite direction to avoid his stare.

"None of that," he murmurs, reaching over to cup your face and gently turn your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

And you do. Goodness gracious, how does he manage to be so gorgeous even with his curls messily framing his face? Your eyes linger on his lips as you try not to look directly into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he gently positions your face higher, silently commanding you to meet his gaze.

His long fingers trace your cheeks as he brings your faces closer together, forehead to forehead, noses bumping. He leaves the softest of kisses on your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and unrushed; he doesn't even bother moving his lips much, just softly keeps them pressed against yours.

"Did you sleep well, baby?" he asks after pulling away, making you unconsciously lean in for more. You nod and nuzzle your cheek deeper into his warm palm. "Yeah? I'm not too surprised," he says, trying to suppress a smirk. You had fallen asleep last night while he was cleaning you up during aftercare, that's how thoroughly he had tired you out, but it's not like you're complaining. You playfully hit his chest..

Michael's chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin as you lay there, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He shifts slightly, the movement drawing your eyes back down to his impressive length. He notices and smirks again, his hand moving to gently guide your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze once more.

"I know what you’re thinking about," he begins, his voice a low, seductive purr, “know what you’re craving."

Your breath hitches at his words, the passion in his eyes making your heart flutter. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing another tender but more heated kiss to your lips. The kiss deepens this time, his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring your mouth with a languid passion that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with desire.

His hands trail from your hips to your naked pussy, cupping it in his large palm, feeling the warm skin against his hand. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, making you gasp. His finger slips through your folds, gliding between your glistening flesh with ease. He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear, "Always so needy, aren't you?"

Before you can respond with an eye roll at his usual teasing, he moves on top of you, spreading your thighs wide. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, marveling at it for what feels like an eternity. His eyes hungrily stare at your already pulsing clit, desperately begging for attention.

 "Do I have to fuck you every morning for you to function properly?"

Your heartbeat quickens at his words, your hips bucking towards him instinctively. He spreads your thighs even farther apart, shushing your whines with an authoritative raise of his brows. "You know what to say," he prompts, his voice low and commanding.

"...Please touch me," you murmur shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He decides to tease you further, enjoying the power he has over you, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Please, Michael," you beg, a little louder this time, "please fuck me."

"That's more like it," he says with a satisfied expression, taking in your already needy state before reaching over to his nightstand. He opens the top drawer and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his lengthy shaft. He strokes his cock a few times, ensuring it's well-lubricated. Without the lube, it's impossible for him to ever make love to you without unwanted pain; he's just too big. Whatever's left on his fingers he spreads it across your already glossy folds, circling your hole for longer than is necessary. 

He gives you a look, silently making sure you still want this. After you nod enthusiastically he positions himself at your tight entrance, dragging his swollen tip up and down your flesh before gently pushing in the head, watching as your cunt stretches around him. With the events of last night, it's not as difficult as it might have been otherwise. His cockhead slips past your folds with ease, and you already feel yourself clenching around him.

"Needy girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice thick with desire.

He torturously slowly slides half of his cock into your wetness and pulls out. Repeating this endlessly until his fat length is fully swallowed by your greedy pussy, “There we go,” he breathes out at finally watching your folds stretch around his thickness. His prominent veins deliciously rub against your slick walls, eliciting breathless moans from your lips. Your eyes flutter from the stretch, the sensation overwhelming, head pressing deeper into the plush pillow.

He steals a peck from your lips and squeezes your hips. He thrusts slowly at first, hips grinding smoothly at a mellow pace, savoring every inch of you. Consequently, making you think he's going to go easy on you but when has Michael Jackson ever been predictable?

At a speed that has your eyes widening he presses you further into the bed, folding your legs closer to your shoulders, putting you in a deep mating press that leaves you breathless. Before you can utter more than his name, he drives his hips against the back of your thighs, completely filling you up. “Jesus fucking christ Michael.” you choked out.

He picks up the pace, ramming his meaty cock into your squelching pussy. Your essence creates a white ring around his base, making him groan in pleasure. This new angle allows you to feel every inch of him deeper and deeper inside you. You can't control yourself, your moans growing louder and louder. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open as filthy whines and moans escape.

As he keeps pounding you into the mattress, he looks at your face and almost cums on the spot. The sounds in the bedroom are sinful - a mix of your moans and his grunts blending together, the bed banging against the wall with every hard thrust of his hips, skin slapping rhythmically.

"Look at you, already going dumb on my cock," he awes, his voice full of adoration.

You nod while not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, his words barely registering in your mind through the haze of pleasure. His smirk widens at your response, watching your nails dig into the sheets. The room starts to fill with the smell of sex, the musky scent only turning him on more.

He continues to fuck you fast and hard, his coily pubic hair rubbing against your throbbing clit, making your hips buck, chasing more of that sweet friction. Your moans grow louder, and if his cock wasn't so good, you'd try to be quieter. But all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

Your heavenly sounds drive him wild, he loves how in the mornings your sleepiness makes you more uninhibited, your cries ringing through his ears. But still, he decides to reach over towards the remote, turning up the volume of the TV to drown out the noises. Although he's never cared about the maids or security hearing him, he knows that when you come down from your high, you'll appreciate this gesture. 

As you both lose yourselves in the throes of passion, the maids: Annie, Susie, and Diana make their way towards the entrance of the sprawling estate for their weekly cleaning duties. The warm rays of the sun cast a serene ambiance over the grounds, punctuated by the tranquil chirping of birds, blissfully masking the storm of debauchery that awaits them inside.

"You know, I still can't believe they faked everything," Susie remarks, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm actually not that surprised, they always seemed fishy to me," Annie replies and smiles at Susie’s scrunched up face.

"Come on now, they named themselves Milli Vanilli, what kind of name is that?" Diana chimes in, adding her two cents to the conversation.

As they ascend the doorsteps and open the front door, entering the home, Annie continues her thought, "I mean, all singers lip-sync now. They're just the ones that got ca—"

Diana abruptly pinches Annie’s arm, cutting her off with a sharp sting, "Ow, what the hell—"

"Girl, shush!" Diana whispers urgently, motioning for silence.

The three maids strain their ears, their attention drawn by the unmistakable erotic sounds emanating from the bedroom—a rhythm of skin slapping against skin, accentuated by soft moans and gasps. Susie instinctively covers her mouth, freezing in place with wide eyes. None of them move a muscle as they process what they are hearing.

"Are they…?" Annie starts tentatively.

"Oh, absolutely." With wide eyes they exchange shocked glances. None of them move a muscle, unsure how to handle the unexpected discovery. Honestly how do you go about stumbling across your boss fucking his wife? 

Diana, always the boldest of the trio, begins to tiptoe toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, prompting panicked whispers from the others.

"Diana! What are you doing?" Annie hisses urgently.

Rolling her eyes, Diana smirks back at them. "As if you two aren't just as curious," she retorts, continuing her stealthy approach toward the imposing double doors that shield a scene of raw intimacy unfolding behind them. Annie and Susie exchange resigned groans but follow cautiously behind.

Pressing their ears against the wood, they strain to catch every moan and whispered utterance, their curiosity piqued despite the scandalous nature of their eavesdropping.

"This is crazy," Susie breathes out in a hushed voice.

Unaware of the maids' clandestine surveillance, Michael drives into you with unrelenting force, his powerful hips slamming with yours in a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you to your limits. Your back arches instinctively, your slick walls gripping him tightly, sucking him deeper into your warmth.

"Greedy fucking pussy," Michael's voice groans with desire, strained with the effort of holding back. he mutters, the words laced with need. "Squeezing me so tight."

"P-please," you stutter, your voice barely a whisper amid the relentless assault of his powerful thrusts. "It’s too much."

"You can take it," he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer, his chain dangling temptingly in front of your face. "I know you can. You’re my good girl." His movements are deliberate, claiming you completely.

In a moment of pure instinct, you gently bite his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure overtakes you. The bed beneath you rocks with each forceful rock of his hips, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The murmur of the TV in the background does little to mask the crescendo of your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

He adjusts his position slightly, angling his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your entire body trembles with the promise of release, his warm breath against your neck adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your senses.

Meanwhile, outside the bedroom, Susie murmurs breathlessly, "Y’all hearing this shit?" Her pulse quickens with excitement. "I’ve never heard anything like it."

"That damn TV, can’t hear anything," Diana complains, pressing her ear harder against the wall in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds from within.

"They're really going at it, huh?" Annie whispers, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Didn't know Mr. Jackson had it in him." Her eyes widen with playful astonishment. "I mean, I knew he was passionate, but this...?"

"Lord forgive me for sinning," Susie quips, crossing herself dramatically as Diana giggles at her theatrics. "Oh, stop it, you."

"And half the country thinks he's a virgin," Annie adds with a sly grin. "Isn't that ironic?" Their cheeky banter fades as they're filled with arousal and a twinge of envy, listening intently to the man they've all undoubtedly fantasized about, lost in passion with his beloved behind closed doors.

Back in the bedroom, Michael pulls back to look into your eyes, his own darkened with lust. He grips your jaw and "You like that, baby? You like being fucked like this?" His words send shivers down your spine, your gummy walls instantly tighten around him.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice breaking with need. "God, yes."

"I want you to make a mess on my cock," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

"Listen to how loud she's moaning," Annie murmurs from outside, her voice tinged with envy. "She must be feeling real good."

As you approach the brink of release, Michael grins devilishly, his movements becoming almost frantic to draw out the exquisite tension building between you. With every plunge of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, kissing your cervix, your legs tremble, your body quivering as you hurtle toward release. You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, driving you to a point of true wanton. Uninhibited, sinful moans echo through the room as you claw at the sheets.

Unable to handle your pulsing walls clinging to him he pounds you into the mattress, chasing his own high. As your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat you try to calm down but the feeling on his bulbous tip flooding your pussy with his hot spurts of cum pushes you towards overstimulation. He sucks love marks on your neck to stifle his groans, as he feels his voluminous cum fill you up completely. He doesn't slow down, riding out your climax, driving you higher and higher until you're nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

Outside, the maids are spellbound, ears pressed against the door, their own breaths quickening in unison with yours.

"Oh my fucking God," Susie whispers, barely audible over the symphony of pleasure spilling from the bedroom. 

"Shh!" 

The maids, captivated, listen intently to your gasps as you climax. They wait a few more moments, taking in the heavy breathing and murmurs of endearment between you and Michael. Once the sounds start to subside, Diana gestures for them to move. “We should get out of here before they catch us.” 

“Uh huh,” Susie agrees, her voice trembling slightly. They tiptoe away from the door, retreating to an empty room down the hall, locking themselves in.

Once inside, they're all breathing heavily, heart pounding in their chests. The air is thick with anticipation, their faces flushed with arousal.

"I- uh…holy shit," Susie’s voice is hushed but tinged with excitement. "She was so loud."

"No shit," Annie replies, her own breath still coming in short bursts. "I mean, it sounded like he was breaking her in half."

“You reckon his dick is really as big as they say?” 

“Jesus Christ D, give us a moment to breathe.”

“I’m just saying, that girl’s always so quiet and sweet you know? Don’t think she’d be the type to fake her moans unless that dick is real good.'' Diana shrugs with a little grin on her face.

Susie fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down. “Yeah that's true, she’s always blushing and looking down when she talks to us, but here she is taking all that from him.”

Annie tries to be civil about all this but can’t help but add, “you think they go at it all the time?”

Diana’s grin grows wider as she nods. “You know it ain’t just a quick thing either, he probably takes his time too, making sure she’s thoroughly satisfied.”

“Lucky girl. I wouldn't mind being in her shoes,” Susie says dreamily.

Diana leans against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You and me both,” she continues, “I gotta say, we have to do that again."

Annie looks at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy? We can’t just stand outside their door listening to them fuck."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. With how hard they were going at it, it's not far-fetched to think they'll do it again tonight. We should wait till they go back to their bedroom and listen in again."

"Absolutely not," Annie insists, crossing her arms defiantly. "That's crossing a line."

But Diana persists, knowing the curiosity and desire are mutual. "Oh, stop with this fake righteous act, y’all liked it, admit it."

Annie looks to Susie for support, but she just shrugs, clearly intrigued by the idea. Diana smirks, sensing victory. "See? Even Susie wants more." Susie, usually the shy one, surprises Annie by siding with Diana. "I mean… It was kinda hot.”

Annie huffs but doesn't entirely reject the idea. Diana’s enthusiasm is infectious, and deep down, Annie knows she’s curious too. "Fine. But how are we gonna do it without getting caught?"

Diana’s smirk grows wider. "We just gotta be smart about it. We know their routine. Once they’re back in the bedroom tonight, we’ll sneak up and listen. Simple." 

Annie finally relents, though still cautious. "If we get caught, it’s on you, D."

Diana grins, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Trust me, it'll be worth it." The three of them continue to hash out their plot, excitement hanging thick in the air.

The trio finally compose themselves after their illicit eavesdropping and gossip session, deciding it's time to actually get to work. They set about their cleaning tasks, though the air between them crackles with the shared secret. Every now and then, one of them breaks the silence with a hushed comment or a knowing glance, the earlier events still fresh in their minds.

As they tidy the living room, the sound of a door opening draws their attention. Michael and you emerge from the bedroom, your body language relaxed and content, a stark contrast to the intense passion that had filled the room earlier. Michael's arm drapes protectively around your waist as he guides you towards the kitchen, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The maids exchange glances, curiosity piqued once more. "Look at them," Susie whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "She looks so satisfied."

Annie, ever the observant one, nods and without looking up continues to do her job. "Bet she is.”

Diana snickers. "Yeah, she looks fucked out, she was moaning so loud. Damn near broke my eardrums." if they hadn't heard your desperate pleas and whimpers they’d definitely find it hard to question your innocence.

From their vantage point in the living room, they peek into the kitchen. You sit down heavily on one of the chairs, your body spent and exhausted, fingers lazily tracing random patterns on the marble counter as you lean your head on your arm . Michael kisses the top of your head and moves with practiced ease, starting to prepare a quick meal for you. His movements are efficient yet tender, his focus solely on making sure you're taken care of.

As you absentmindedly glance around, your eyes meet Susie's. You smile gently and give her a small wave. For a moment, there's a flash of recognition in her widened eyes before she quickly returns the greeting with a shy nod. She turns back to Annie and Diana, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She saw me," Susie whispers, her voice a mixture of panic and excitement. "She smiled and waved."

Diana snorts. "Probably too blissed out to care. Look at her. She’s got that post-fuck glow."

Annie rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips. "You two are incorrigible. But yeah, she does look pretty content."

The trio continues their cleaning, though their attention frequently strays back to the kitchen. They can't help but watch as Michael moves about, his focus unwavering as he prepares something for you. Every now and then, he glances your way, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"He’s so attentive," Annie murmurs, almost to herself. "I mean, he just spent all that time… you know… and now he’s making sure she’s okay. That’s so sweet."

Diana smirks. "Yeah, he’s definitely got enough left in him for round two tonight. I can tell.” 

Susie bites her lip, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity. "I just hope we don't get caught."

As they continue to clean, their whispers and giggles fill the room, the earlier intensity of their task somewhat forgotten in light of their newfound entertainment. They dust the same shelves over and over again just because the view of the kitchen is by far the best from that specific angle. The sight of you and Michael in the kitchen, a picture of post-coital domesticity, only fuels their fascination.

Michael, sensing your exhaustion, walks over to you with a plate of food. "Here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, placing the plate in front of you. "You need to eat something."

You smile up at him, your gratitude evident in your eyes. He smiles and sits down next to you, watching you with adoring eyes.

The maids watch this exchange with keen interest. "He’s so good to her," Susie whispers, a note of envy in her voice.

Diana rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course he is. You heard how he was talking to her. ‘You’re my good girl,’" she mimics, her voice dripping with mock lust. "He’s got her wrapped around his finger."

Annie, who has been silent for a while, finally speaks up. "You know, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them like this. It’s kind of… invasive."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Annie. Live a little. They’re not gonna find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone."

They continue their tasks, though their eyes frequently stray back to the kitchen. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of lingering arousal and the thrill of having witnessed something so private. As they finish up in the living room and move to another part of the house, they can’t help but continue their whispered conversation. "So, we’re still following through with the plan?" Susie asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Diana grins. "mhm."

Annie shakes her head, though a small smile plays at her lips. "You two are crazy. But fine. Just this once more, we’re not doing it again."

The trio shares a conspiratorial laugh, their bond strengthened by their shared secret. As they go about their tasks, their minds are already anticipating the evening, eager to once again be a part of the passionate world they had stumbled upon.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you finish your meal, your energy slowly returning. Michael sits next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, a silent reassurance of his presence.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft.

He presses a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, baby. You know that."

As the day wears on, You both spend the day lounging around the house, basking in the simplicity of each other's company. The day has been a rare gift of leisure, a precious break from Michael's usually hectic schedule. The sun sets lazily, casting a warm glow over everything.

The trio finds themselves looking forward to the evening, their curiosity and desire rekindled. The thrill of the forbidden being too intoxicating to resist.

As the day winds down and evening settles in, the maids finish their duties and prepare to leave. Michael politely, walks them to the door. "Goodnight, ladies," he says with a charming smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jackson," they reply, trying to keep their voices steady. They share a quick glance, the events of the day still fresh in their minds, and attempt to leave casually. As the door shuts behind them they walk down the path they’d usually take to return home but they make a turn to the right, making their way towards the back of the house.

You are already in bed, lounging in a tank top and panties, the warm weather prompting you to kick the covers off playfully. The soft light of the setting sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room.

Michael steps into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, his gaze finding you instantly. You turn your head towards him and smile, your hand constantly reaching towards his direction, the sight of him filling you with warmth. He shakes his head teasingly as he pulls the covers back onto the bed.

"You always do this," he shakes his head, his voice filled with affection.

You watch him intently as he undresses, his movements slow and deliberate. He strips down to his boxers, revealing his toned physique, and you can’t help but feel a surge of desire. Your eyes are hungry, taking in every inch of his body which is draped in golden sun rays.

He slides into bed next to you, his presence comforting. He gently coos, "Are you feeling hot, baby?" His hand finds your hip, kneading it softly, feeling the soft, warm skin under his palm.

You nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire and mischief. Taking his hand, you guide it down between your legs, pressing his fingers harder against your clothed clit. "I am," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, signaling where exactly you’re feeling hot.

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "You're insatiable," he teases, his fingers starting to move in slow, tantalizing circles. The fabric unsurprisingly dampening in an instant.

Your eyes flutter from the slight pressure and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. "You love it," you counter with a small smile.

He smirks and admits, moving between your spread thighs, his fingers hooking under your panties and slowly pulling them off. He casually lets them fall on the floor as his eyes are immediately glued to your weeping cunt, already salivating at the view.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the maids have been waiting, the anticipation building. Diana, ever the ringleader, whispers, "It’s time." They tiptoe towards your patio which is connected to your bedroom. They crouch down next to the glass doors, holding their breath as they try to peer inside without making their presence known. The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from within the intimate space you and Michael share. They inch closer, their breaths shallow and hearts pounding, the thrill of voyeurism electrifying their senses.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere is intimate and calm compared to the morning's intensity. Michael lays on his front, his face inches from your glistening pussy, still leaking with his cum from earlier. He bites his lip at the sight, the raw desire in his eyes making you shiver with anticipation.

He gently slides his middle finger into your hole, pushing his cum deeper inside you. "Look at you, so full of me," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Such a good girl, taking everything I give you."

You moan softly, the sensation of his finger inside you making your body hum with pleasure. He parts your glossy folds with his fingers, exposing your sensitive clit. Leaning in, he suckles on the bud, rolling it in his mouth with expert precision.

Peering through the glass, their eyes widen as they take in the sight before them. Michael is between your legs, his face buried in your pussy, his tongue working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your eyes are shut tight, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the scene, highlighting every intimate detail.

"God, seeing it is so much better than just listening," Susie whispers, her voice a mix of awe and arousal.

They press against each other, jostling quietly for the best view. Michael's focus is entirely on you, his eyes closed as he savors your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. The way he worships your body is mesmerizing, each movement filled with intent and passion.

Suddenly, Michael pulls away with a wet pop, your juices glistening on his lips and chin. You whine at the loss of contact, your body trembling with need. "Shh, baby," he soothes, replacing his tongue with his thumb, pressing it against your swollen clit and rubbing gentle circles.

The maids hold their breath, their eyes glued to the scene. Michael prods two fingers against your entrance, teasing you before slowly sliding them in. He breathes in deeply, savoring your scent as his fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching your tight walls. His wedding band glistens, drenched in your slick, as he pumps his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm, the cold metal adding to the pleasure.

Susie, filled with envy and arousal, leans closer to Annie. "I've never seen a man eat pussy this good," she whispers, her voice tinged with longing. 

"He definitely knows where the clit is." Annie giggles and adds.

Diana, unable to contain her excitement, groans softly. "When is he going to take out his cock and fuck her?" she hisses, her eyes locked on the sight of Michael's fingers disappearing inside you.

Annie glares at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, is watching this not enough for you?" she snaps quietly.

Michael's fingers work their magic, the squelching noises filling the room as you whimper and buck your hips against his skilled hands. He watches you intently, his eyes dark with lust, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "My girl."

Your whimpers turn into moans, your body arching off the bed as he brings you closer to the edge. "Michael, please," you beg, your voice a breathy whisper.

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs. "What is it, baby?" he asks, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Wanna cum," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He smirks, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Then come for me, sweet girl," he whispers, his voice a low growl.

The maids watch in rapt attention, their own bodies reacting to the scene before them. Susie's cheeks are flushed, her breath quickening. "I can't believe we're actually seeing it this time," she whispers, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at how he handles her. It's like he knows exactly what she needs." Annie breathes, her eyes wide with awe.

Diana, her frustration mounting, shifts restlessly. "I want to see him fuck her," she insists, her voice a low whine. "Wanna see what his cock looks like."

Annie shoots her a sharp look. "Just be patient," she snaps. "Enjoy what we're seeing now."

Inside the room, Michael's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm. "I- I’m close" you cry out, your voice breaking with need.

"There there," he murmurs, his fingers never faltering. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Michael holds you through it, his mouth and fingers never ceasing their movements, prolonging your release until you are spent and trembling.

The maids are transfixed, their own arousal palpable. "y’all…" Susie whispers, her voice filled with need. "I didn't even know it was possible to cum that hard just from fingers."

Annie nods, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her. "He’s Michael Jackson, what did you expect," she murmurs. 

Diana, her eyes dark with lust, can barely contain herself. "I want to see more," she insists, her voice a desperate whisper.

As you come down from your high, panting, Michael gently withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. "You taste so good," he purrs, his eyes locked on yours. You stretch weakly, your body still trembling. Michael licks his drenched fingers, savoring your taste as his eyes lock onto yours with a smoldering intensity. He leans in to give your clit a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of tenderness. 

As he moves off the bed to take off his boxers, you whimper from the loss of contact, your body still trembling from the recent orgasm. You always become so clingy afterward, seeking his warmth and touch even if it's scorching hot outside.

“I’m right here, baby,” he coos gently, his voice soothing as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. The maids, hidden just outside the glass doors, gasp in unison at the sight. Michael’s heavy shaft sways with his every move, a sight both impressive and intimidating.

“Goodness gracious, that thing is massive,” Diana whispers, her eyes wide with arousal.

The others nod, their mouths hanging open in shock. “No wonder she always looks so happy,” Susie murmurs. “It’s hard not to when your man’s packing like that.”

Annie notices Diana’s hazy expression, her eyes glued to Michael’s meaty cock as she licks her lips. Annie nudges her sharply. “Stop drooling, Diana.”

Susie giggles, trying to stifle the sound. “Yeah, you look like you just came.”

Diana shoots them a side-eye, irritated but unable to tear her gaze away from Michael as he strokes his meaty shaft, preparing himself. She unconsciously leans forward, hands pressing against the glass doors, her desire overriding her sense of caution. The door creaks in the silent room, a loud and unmistakable sound.

Annie, eyes wide with realization, hisses urgently, “Wait, no!”

But it’s too late. Packed together like sardines, when Diana pushes forward, the glass doors swing open, and they all tumble into the room with a loud, resounding thud. The sudden intrusion shatters the intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

You gasp in horror, your eyes wide as you scramble to cover yourself. Michael’s head snaps around, his expression shifting from surprise to fury as he sees the maids he had just bid goodnight to, now sprawled awkwardly on the floor. They remain frozen, their eyes wide with horror at having been caught.

“Fuck,” Annie whispers, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of their collective dread.

Michael’s eyes blaze with anger, but his first instinct is to protect you. He immediately grabs the covers and drapes them over your body, shielding you from their prying eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Stay here.”

You try to argue, your voice trembling, “But Michael-”

He cuts you off with a commanding look, one you don’t often see, filled with authority and protectiveness. “I said stay,” he repeats firmly.

Nodding obediently, you clutch the sheets closer to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael turns halfway, careful not to expose himself completely, and fixes the maids with a venomously calm stare.

“Wait in my office,” he orders, his tone cold and tolerating no argument.

The trio stares dumbly for a few seconds, processing his words before they scramble to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Broken apologies tumble from their lips as they run out of the room, their faces flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Once they’re gone, Michael turns back to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I guess…I'm just shocked.”

“I’ll take care of this,” he promises, his voice filled with a protective resolve. He kisses your forehead again, then stands, pulling on his discarded boxers and trousers. “Stay here and try to relax, okay?”

You nod again, watching him as he leaves the room, your anxiety mixing with a strange sense of reassurance at his presence.

Michael leaves you in the bedroom, his heart heavy with both fury and a fierce protectiveness. As he walks down the hallway, the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows and illuminating his path. Each step he takes echoes softly against the wooden floor, the sound mingling with the seething rage that burns within him. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with anger.

In the office, the maids are huddled together, in a state of panic, their faces filled with dread. They had thought themselves clever, sneaking around to watch, but now the reality of their actions is sinking in.

“Oh my god, we’re so screwed,” Susie whispers, wringing her hands nervously.

Annie turns to Diana. "This was all your idea!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fear.

Diana glares back, her own nerves frayed. "Oh, don't you dare put this all on me! You wanted this as much as I did!"

Susie, caught in the middle, raises her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Guys, please, this isn’t the time. We need to stick together."

The door swings open, and they all jump, turning to see Michael standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the final nail in their coffin.

“Explain yourselves,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

The maids exchange panicked glances, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Annie steps forward, her voice trembling. “We... we’re so sorry, Mr. Jackson. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just...”

“Just what?” he snaps, his patience fraying. 

Susie whispers, her voice barely audible, "We were just curious..."

Michael raises his brows, his eyes narrowing. "Curious? Curious?!”  he repeats, louder this time. The word hangs in the air, heavy with disdain.

He loses his cool for a moment, his voice rising as he yells, "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

The maids shudder, their fear palpable. They are totally fucked, and they know it. “We’re truly so sorry,” Annie stammers, her voice breaking. “We never meant for this to happen.”

Michael’s expression remains hard, his eyes cold as ice. “You think an apology is enough? You think saying sorry will fix this? You’ve breached a level of trust that’s hard to come back from.” Michael’s eyes bore into each of them, his disappointment palpable.

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “What gave you the brilliant idea to spy on us?”

There’s a heavy silence as none of them dare to speak. Michael’s patience wears thin. “I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Silence fills the room as the maids exchange terrified glances. Finally, Diana stutters, "We... we eavesdropped earlier this morning." Susie starts to tear up silently, her guilt and fear overwhelming her.

Michael breathes out heavily, the sound like a hiss through clenched teeth. "Sit," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

They scramble to comply, their hands shaking as they take their seats. Michael retrieves a folder from the desk drawer, pulling out several documents and laying one in front of each of them with a pen.

"Sign," he says, the word clipped and devoid of any warmth.

Annie furrows her brows as she reads the document. It's a non-disclosure agreement. It hits her like a punch to the gut: he's making them sign NDAs to ensure they don't blabber about this to anyone, especially the press. Without reading through it, they all sign. Their hands shake so much that their signatures are barely legible. 

Michael retrieves the signed documents, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stares at them, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "Consider yourselves fired," he says, each word delivered with cutting precision.

The maids’ faces pale further, the reality of their actions hitting them like a sledgehammer. 

They swallow hard, nodding silently. Without needing further prompting, they rise from their seats and make their way out of the office, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their actions. As they exit the estate, the night air feels colder. As they walk down the long driveway and the gravity of their situation sinks in.

As they reach the gates, they look back at Neverland ranch one last time, the grandeur and beauty now a stark contrast to their current despair. They exit, their steps heavy and their minds filled with regret.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[kingofpopmj]

You Know, Love Is All We Need

Summary: The Jackson Family roll out in full force to take part in the recording of We Are The World. Michael feels helpless as his wife isn’t welcome by all his loved ones.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader!

Warning: FAMILY DRAMA, ARGUING AND CURSING

Requested: yes

*Michael’s POV*

“Babe, I’m serious.” She whined, throwing herself back onto the bed.

“Y/N, baby, you can’t just not go. You’re my wife. My whole family is going to be there. I’d like for you to be with me.” I grabbed her hands, pulling her up to face me. “You’re the best part of me. I can’t do it without you.”

“Michael, your family hates me.” Her voice was sad and she looked at me with pleading eyes.

“That’s not true.” She pursed her lips at me, crossing her arms and a hint of glossiness filling her eyes. “No, please don’t cry.”

“It’s always a fight. I’m exhausted.” Her head hung low and I couldn’t think of anything else to do but hold her.

“I’m sorry. My mother loves you and that’s the most important thing— she’s crazy about you. I know my dad is rough, but he doesn’t hate you. My brothers lose their minds over you, they love having you around. My sisters—”

“You know it isn’t them. They’re great. It’s Latoya. She always—”

“I know. I know.” I cut her off before she went any further. I didn’t want her to break down like the last time. “I’ve spoken to her about it. She’s not going to be an issue anymore. I promise.”

“She always attacks me.” She sounded defeated and all I could do was comfort her. “I can’t take much more of it. It feels like it’s getting worse, like when we all went to the studio together. I thought it would be a nice bonding moment, but…” She drifted off, burying her face deeper into my chest.

“Michael! You made it!” Latoya cheered, she jumped up from where she was sitting with my brothers.

“Hey!” It was then I fully walked into the room, holding Y/N’s hand as she followed right behind me.

“Oh, you brought her.” Latoya rolled her eyes in a huff, turning away from us without another word.

“My wife? Yes, I brought my wife.” I spat back, beyond irritated with my sister’s sudden attitude. “She’s a musician. She was invited.”

“Yeah, she’s even giving Michael some nice competition, ain’t that right sister?” Marlon hopped up, hugging us both. “It’s great to see you.”

“If it isn’t one of my favorite Jackson’s.” Y/N laughed, sharing her secret handshake with my brother.

“Well, the rest of us are excited.” Tito spoke up, pulling my wife into a hug, then patting me on the back. “Toya is just jealous. The only reason she’s here is because she’s related to us crazy handsome and extremely talented fellas.” He said it loud enough for her to hear, but all she did was cross her arms.

“T, that’s not nice.” My wife whispered, shaking her head like she was scolding a child.

“It’s the damn truth. If she focused on her career as much has she focused on having that stick up her butt, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Tito was blunt, the words were a bit harsh, but he’s right. “Y/N, you’re family and the way she— it don’t sit right with me. I want you to know we— you’re part of this family, you’re a special part and we…”

“We love you.” Jermaine sang, finishing the sentence his brother was becoming too emotional to finish.

“I love you guys too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory, kissing her forehead before speaking again. “I know and I’m sorry. We discussed it. She’s looking forward to seeing us so she can apologize in person.” My wife raised her eyebrow at me. “She’s just having trouble— I think having a new sister-in-law has been tough on her.”

“Okay. I guess if your whole family will be there it’ll be fun, but if something happens I’m leaving. I’m serious. I don’t want anymore problems.”

“We. If something happens we will leave. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know you won’t.”

*Y/N’s POV*

We arrived at The Jackson home right on time, everything was business as usual— just enjoying one anothers company. There was loud music and mountains of delicious food. We made our way around the party, greeting everyone and watching the kids running around the yard. It was fun. So far, tonight felt like it wouldn’t be so bad.

“How are you doing?” Michael whispered near my ear.

“Good, thank you for talking me into coming. I’m having fun.” I dragged my thumb across his bottom lip before stretching up to my tippy toes and kissing his lovely lips.

“Ew. Do you have to do that where we can all see you?” Of course. I didn’t need to look to know Latoya had arrived. “It’s disgusting. You can’t wait until your home to maul—”

“Shut up Latoya.” Michael rolled his eyes, pulling me deeper into his chest.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Michael simply stared her down— like he was daring her to say something else. By the way her mouth snapped shut, it was clear she wasn’t expecting that. They stared at each other a little longer before finally she walked off.

“I seriously don’t understand what’s up with her.” He muttered. “She’s really pissing me off.”

“I have no idea, but I rather not hang around to find out. Don’t let her get to you babe. Maybe we should—”

“You want to go already? We can.” He gave me a sweet smile of approval, showing me he had my back and understood.

“No! You can’t leave! Come on! We’re gonna play some games.” Janet cheered, running over to the cabinet and grabbing about a dozen glass bottles. “Well, you gonna stand there like two dimwits or are you gonna help me?”

“I think we could stay longer!” I giggled, skipping over to help my sister-in-law. “Come on dork get to stepping.” I tickled his side before running outside and onto the deck. Michael didn’t waste any time chasing after me, eventually tackling me in the grass.

“You’re being bad now?” He spoke breathlessly, struggling to get a grip on my wrists as I wiggled beneath him. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?” I whispered as low as possible, but I could tell by the way he froze on spot that he heard me loud and clear.

“Oh great they’re going to fornicate right in front of us now. Just what I want to see.” Latoya again, isn’t she lovely?

“I wish.” Michael mumbled, getting to his feet and helping me to mine. “To be continued…” he laughed.

“Most definitely. I mean if you’re up for it… we can slip away to the bathroom for a quick—” there was no way I’d actually do it under his parents roof, but I still enjoyed teasing him.

“Shhh. Don’t.” His hands pressed against my mouth and he silently begged me to stop teasing him. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Finally, she needs a muzzle.” Latoya yelled, then laughed way too loud at her own joke. Michael’s hands fell to his sides and he just stared at her as the area grew quiet. The tension between the siblings growing rapidly.

“Gosh, you know, I knew your voice was irritating, but your laugh makes me want to rip my ears off.” My husband scoffed, standing his ground again.

“Woah, Mike what’s got your undies in a twist? Trouble in paradise?” She questioned, sipping from her drink. “Marriage isn’t for everyone.” She sang, that comment got everyone’s attention. I knew Michael was going to lose it on her.

“No way! I forgot you’re an expert on marriage. Tell me how’s the husband? Oh wait, you don’t have one. Last time I checked no one is lining up to make you a wife.” Michael said confidently, his hand finding mine and happily guiding me away from her.

“Oh shit! Little brother is cold today!” Jackie clapped proudly. “Stone cold!”

“You got told!” Randy shouted, pointing his finger directly in Latoya’s face as she failed to push him away.

We were in the middle of a game of darts when Jermaine and Randy started yelling at the TV.

“Michael! Your wife is on the television looking lovely.” Randy winked, making finger guns with his hands.

“She always looks lovely you goon.” Michael said slinging his arm around my shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell us! We would’ve turned it on sooner! I love this show!” Rebbie jumped up, trying to find the button to turn up the volume.

“Ah! It’s Funny or Die! It’s so funny! Y/N! I can’t believe you were on.” Janet cheered. “Beth is hilarious.”

“I completely forgot it was going to be on today.” I said truthfully. “We don’t have to watch it.”

“The hell we don’t! We’re watching it!”

“Why are we acting like this is groundbreaking? She’s not helping achieve world peace.” Latoya snapped. “It doesn’t take a damn rocket scientist to sit on a couch and answer questions.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember anyone begging to ask you any questions, you fool.” Jackie cracked, waving her off.

“I’ve done interviews!” She snapped back.

“That no one watches, which is why it probably happened once— maybe. I doubt it” Randy laughed, throwing his head back. “Most likely in your dreams. That’s the only place you’re a big deal.”

“Shhh! I can’t hear it.” Janet shouted.

Welcome to tonight’s Funny or Die on Comedy Central with special guest Mrs. Y/N Jackson!

*Beth Littleford’s voice*

“So, Mrs. Jackson, you are married to one of the most influential artists of our lifetime— you’ve married into The Royal Family of entertainment. Why did you do that to yourself?”

“I’m not sure I understand that question.” A smile on my face as I stared at her waiting for an explanation.

“Well, that’s a lot of star power, I’d imagine a lot of diva behavior goes on behind the scenes. Who do you hate the most? If presented the opportunity, which Jackson would you to send off to an abandoned island?”

“There’s actually no diva behavior. They’re all very kind and down to earth. They’ve handled all of the fame with such grace, they’re amazing people. I’m very lucky. I love being a part of the family.”

“You’re a bad liar Mrs. Jackson. Okay, back to your husband. He’s incredibly handsome, you’re stunning— very beautiful. My question is, of the two of you, who spends more time looking in the mirror?” She was so good at keeping a straight face that it became more difficult for me to do the same.

“We—” I turned my head to take a breath and bite back the laughter trying to escape. “I don’t feel we spend much time doing that—”

“Mrs. Jackson, if we’re going to do this I’m going to need you to stop bullshitting me.” She said it in a professional voice and I immediately broke. “Okay, get it together, I’ll try this again, you and your husband are very successful musicians. What I’d like to know is, who’s better? Be honest. Your answer will stay between us.” She nodded towards me, snapping her finger in the air, signaling the camera to obnoxiously zoom in on my face.

“Oh, that’s easy. My husband of course. He is so out of my league. His talent is unbelievable, unfathomable, unreachable. He’s one of a kind. I’m a huge fan of his work. He’s incredible. He’s so— he’s everything. The music he creates, his process, his stage presence, everything— he takes my breath away.”

“That’s a lie.” Beth shot out, turning her back to me and looking into the camera. “I guess we will never know the truth. Y/N appears to be devoted to dodging the questions we all want answers to. There’s no other way to say it folks, she sucks.” She concluded with a shrug and I bursted out laughing behind her.

“At the end of the day I had to ask Y/N for one final encore.” Beth spoke as the screen cut to a clip of us walking through a garden, until cutting back to the interview room.

“In 1985, you participated in We Are The World, which brought together some of the top performers of our day..… and Latoya Jackson.” Immediately, I buried my face in my hands, desperately trying to hold in my laughter. “The thing everyone wants to know, what I need to ask you.” I shook my head, dropping my hands and smiling at her. “Bear with me.” I nodded, sitting up straight, awaiting her question. “What the hell was Dan Aykroyd doing there?”

“Beth—” I couldn’t finish my answer without giggling. “Beth.” I crossed my legs, attempting to compose myself once again. “That’s my sister-in-law you’re talking about.”

“Yes.” She answered simply.

“You know, The entire Jackson family is talented. It’s in their DNA, Latoya is unique—”

“Unique as in the talent skipped her?” She interrupted me, clicking her pen and scribbling down notes.

“That’s not— all the Jackson’s are very talented and Latoya is gifted in her own right.” I crossed my legs and gave her a tight lipped smile.

“You know, when you say that, I almost believe you.” Beth said with a straight face. That time the laughter escaped my mouth before I could stop it, I leaned forward into the vacant couch cushions beside me.

“You’re so bad.” I said breathlessly as I shook my head playfully.

“So, back to Dan Aykroyd, what the hell was he contributing?”

“Dan, I’m not sure. I think he was just there to be a part of the moment.”

The room filled with laughter as we watched the skit together. Jackie gave me a thumbs up, he was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. Tito had knocked over his drink, pounding on the table in front of him. It felt good— like home. I truly loved this crazy family. Michael slipped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my head before resting his chin on my shoulder.

“For the record, you’re the one that’s out of my league.” He started. “You’re perfect.”

I hummed leaning back into his embrace as he swayed as back and forth. Our peace was cut short quickly by a loud screech.

“It’s not funny! This isn’t funny at all! Stop! Stop laughing!” Latoya shouted. She pointed her finger in my face. “How dare you! You made a joke of me!”

“Latoya, I didn’t make a joke of you.” My hold around Michael’s forearms tightened at the sudden outburst— which quickly had everyone’s attention.

“Do not yell at my wife.” Michael’s voice boomed, low and harsh— it was made me nervous. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. “I’m not playing with you Latoya.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are!” She’s in my face now. Great.

“Latoya, back off! This is ridiculous.” Michael held his hand out, pushing her away from me as he moved me to his side.

“I don’t give a shit! I’ll rip all the hair out of your damn head!” Her threat didn’t bother me, it wasn’t until she attempted to swing at me that I felt angry.

“I give a shit!” Michael reacted swiftly blocking her arm, pushing me behind him and shielding me. “You aren’t touching my wife!” Janet and Jermaine were on their feet now, holding their sister back. As much as I wanted to lash out I trusted my husband. It wouldn’t help for me to start screaming too, so I was more than happy to let him handle it.

“She’s been your wife for like a day.”

“It’s been two years!” Michael in between us, pushing her back again by her shoulders. “What the hell is your problem? Grow up!”

“My problem is that your wife is a fucking bitch!” She said loudly, it echoed through the house and everyone sat there quietly.

“Don’t fucking call her that!” Michael yelled, the air becoming thicker by the second. “If you think I’m—”

“That’s enough. The three of you come with me.” Katherine spoke, her tone was clear, she wasn’t asking.

Michael slid his hand across my lower back, resting it on my hip and pulling me closer to him. The walk was short and silent. Katherine opened the double doors leading to the library, pointing for us to enter. She slammed the door behind her once we all settled in.

“Now, I don’t know what the issue is and I don’t care. First off, you will not call anyone anything but their given name.” She pointed at her daughter. “And what in gods name has gotten into you making a scene like that in front of your young nephews, nieces and cousins?”

“Mom—” Latoya shot up from her seat with a wild energy.

“Did I say you could speak?” Katherine stopped her immediately, Latoya shrugged, sitting back down with a huff. “This has gone on long enough. I’ve tried to give you the space to figure it out yourselves, but it’s clear that isn’t happening. We aren’t leaving this room until we are all on the same page. Now, you may speak.”

“She’s rude and disrespectful. She laughed at me on national television.”

“No, she didn’t and I suggest you adjust your tone. I’m your mother. You need to speak to me with some respect.”

“Y/N—” Latoya shouted again.

“She spoke up for you and you know it. Which is more for you than I would’ve done if I were her. Latoya you’ve had it out for Y/N since Michael first brought her home to meet us.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“Latoya.” Michael cut in. When Latoya met her baby brother’s eyes she felt something tug at her heart and any lies she had prepared vanished.

“This is stupid.” She sat there pouting and all I could do was watch, because what the hell is wrong with her?

“Well, I have all day.” Katherine grinned. “This is your problem Latoya. The longer you take to spit it out the longer we will sit here.”

“You’ve always been rude to Y/N and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting with you, but if you insist on continuing to act like this, then so be it. I can match your attitude because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you or anyone else treat my wife like this.” Michael ranted, taking a deep breath. “She’s my wife. She makes me happy. She’s been nothing but respectful to you. She doesn’t deserve this. Latoya, we can only argue for so long until eventually our relationship becomes nonexistent— you’re my sister, but you’re crossing lines that are hurting our bond— things you’ve done, it’s beyond repair. And, honestly I’m slowly making my peace with that— not having any kind of relationship with you.”

“Little brother.” Latoya choked out, glossy eyes filled with pain. I felt awful. I never thought I’d hear Michael say anything like that.

“That’s how I feel. It bothered me so much because I didn’t understand why, but I’ve reached a point where I don’t care what your excuse is. I’m fed up. Mom, I’m sorry, but this isn’t fair to Y/N and I’m not going to make her sit through it any longer. I’m taking her home.” He rose to his feet, guiding me towards the door.

“Alright, baby boy. I understand.” I could tell she was disappointed in her daughter, but she looked at her son with such pride that it didn’t feel all that bad. “Go on. I love you, both of you. Come here honey.” She kissed my cheek and hugged me tightly. I loved her hugs. “I’m sorry about all of this. You’re a good girl.”

“Love you. It’s— no apologies necessary. See you soon mama.” Michael walked us out of the house quick like it was on fire. “Shouldn’t we say bye to everyone else?” He didn’t answer, not right away at least. He stopped walking halfway down the driveway, leaning forward and kissing me repeatedly.

“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I’m so sorry.” Kiss. “You’re.” Kiss. “The.” Kiss. “Most.” Kiss. “Amazing.” Kiss. “Woman.” Kiss. “Ever.” Kiss. “I don’t know how I tricked you into marrying me.”

“You didn’t trick me. And, it’s not your fault. None of this is you’re fault.”

“It’s my insane sister.”

“Exactly, it’s not your fault. It’s her— hopefully it’ll get better at some point.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m hopeful. It has to work out eventually.”

“I pray that you’re right.”

“I usually am, but until then I have you. And, you make a super sexy bodyguard.”

“You think so? Maybe I’ll switch professions so I could guard this lovely body every second of every day.” His flirtatious smile, causing my chest to tingle.

“I love you.” Kiss. “Most.” Kiss. “Perfect.” Kiss. “Man.” Kiss. “Ever.”

*Michael’s POV*

The pain of last nights events felt insignificant, waking up next to my beautiful wife, everything seemed to melt away. This, right here was all that mattered. Bliss.

“You always watch me sleep?” I watched her mumble through a sleepy smile.

“You always fake sleep?”

“I like lying next to you. Your bed head is cute.”

“You sleeping naked is cute.” I rolled onto of her, pushing her body deeper into the mattress.

“Are you trying to keep me in bed all day?”

“Yes.” My hips sunk in between her legs as I heard her sweet moan. The door bell rang before I could remove the sheet that was wrapped around her. “They’ll go away.” The bell rang again.

“It doesn’t sound like they’re leaving.”

“Well, then, they can wait. I only need two hours with you.”

“Two hours!” She laughed, the bell sounding two more times. “What are you planning to do to me?”

“Everything. I’m going to—” the bell rang again interrupting me. “Whoever is out there is about to get run over.”

“Relax. Just go check. You’re so grumpy.” She waved me off to go answer the door. I threw on a shirt and found some pants to wear.

“I’m grumpy because some jerk is ringing my doorbell while I’m trying to get handsy with my wife. Who wakes up this early to cockblock?” I heard her giggle as I left the room and ran down the stairs.

The doorbell continued vibrating the walls even when I unlocked the door and yanked it open.

“What the…” I was at a loss. I didn’t thinking my sister showing up was a possibility at all— just like I didn’t expect seeing her face to make me so angry.

“Hi brother.”

“Latoya, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you— both of you. If that’s okay? I want to apologize.”

“That’s not a good idea. Really, I don’t have the energy to deal with you today and I’m not comfortable letting you anywhere near my wife.”

“Please. I— look I wrote a letter. I figured you guys probably wouldn’t want to see me. I just needed to try, you know?” She held out an envelope and a big bouquet of flowers. “I’m so sorry. Please take it. Or I can leave it on your doormat if you don’t want to look at it just yet. These are for Y/N.”

“Alright.” I let out a deep breath and accepted what she brought. I figured the longer I fight her the longer she’d stay and I really didn’t want that.

“I’m sorry I hurt you little brother and I’m sorry for acting that way towards Y/N… I had no reason— no right.” She stepped back as I remained silent. I wasn’t ready to talk to her, so every word out her mouth felt meaningless to me. “Well, I’ll be going now.” I watched blankly as she turned away from me.

“Who was it?” My wife inquired as she descended the stairs. “My favorite flowers! Babe, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Actually, I didn’t. It was… um…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Latoya. She was just here.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. She brought all this for us and wrote you a letter.”

“Where is she?” She took the envelope from my hands, her fingers gliding across my sister’s handwriting.

“I didn’t let her in. I kind of made her leave.”

“Michael!” She pushed past me, running out the door in her robe. She didn’t even care that she was barefoot. I watched from our doorstep as Y/N knocked on my sister’s car window— I had no doubt in my mind that she was inviting her inside. They walked in and Y/N asked her to wait in the living room for us.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see her. I thought I was protecting you.”

“I know and I appreciate it, but she’s still your sister. She’s trying to make amends the least we could do is hear her out. She came all this way, I don’t think she’d do that just to argue.”

“You’re too good.” This woman is full of surprises. I held her hand as we walked off to join my sister, sitting across from her.

“I was jealous.” Latoya said, fiddling with her acrylic nails as she thought of what to say next. “Y/N, it felt like everyone welcomed you so easily. You were considered family overnight, which is beautiful because you’re with Michael, but it made me scared. It’s not an excuse. It’s not a good one. It’s just— I’m trying to explain. It all happened so fast.” I sensed my wife tense up and I hoped this was going somewhere that wouldn’t end in tears. “I didn’t know Y/N very well, then I started seeing less and less of my baby brother. Instead of getting to know you, I blamed you for taking him from me, which obviously isn’t the case and my behavior led to neither of you feeling comfortable around me. It was difficult to accept that I was to blame. And, I don’t know, Michael it feels like you’ve always needed me and suddenly you didn’t anymore. You found someone that’s a great fit and you didn’t need to lean on your big sister anymore, which is great, but I guess it happened faster than I expected. It’s no secret that the Jackson men haven’t had the best luck in their marriages, but Michael is different. I was afraid of someone using him or hurting him. I think I convinced myself I was standing up for you by being a total ass to Y/N. I don’t know. I was so focused on protecting Michael that I didn’t even allow myself to get to know the new Mrs. Jackson and I should’ve. Y/N, I wish I had the relationship with you that my siblings have, but by the time I realized that I’d done too much damage. I didn’t deserve to know you and I knew that. I just really, completely screwed everything up. Baby brother, you and I were the closest and I didn’t realize that my protectiveness over you had transformed into something so ugly. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo it all because you didn’t deserve it.” She sounded sincere, her hands intertwined in front of her chest as if she was begging for us to understand.

“That makes sense. It’s natural to feel protective as an older sibling. I love that Michael has so many people looking out for him.” Y/N spoke softly, leaning forward. “You’re a great sister and you thought— your actions were wrong, but I believe that it came from a good place. It just got a little lost in translation. I appreciate your apology and I’m hopeful that we can move on from this.”

“Really? Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve been a total bitch to you—”

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We can get through it.”

“I was so awful to you. I regret it. I regret all of it. I’d want nothing more than to make it up to you. Can I— is there a chance I could make up for this? It’d mean the world to me, but I understand if you don’t want that.”

“I’d love that.” I was in shock when my wife stood up, holding her arms out to hug my sister. It was gladly accepted. They hugged tight, crying into each other’s embrace.

“Thank you.” Latoya cried, it was a moment of healing for all of us and I was so grateful for it.

“Alright, quick hogging my wife.” I teased, when they broke apart I took Y/N’s place. “I’m happy you’re done being a pain in the ass.”

“I am. I promise.” We let go of each other with a new found sense of relief.

“Do you want to stay for a bit? I was going to make some brunch.” My wife offered. “You like crepes right?”

“Yes! I’d love to.” My sister responded and Y/N went off to the kitchen, leaving us alone.

“Thank you for hearing me out.” She seemed nervous again with my wife’s absence. “Thank you for the second chance. I won’t screw up again I promise.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s all her.” I nodded towards the direction my wife disappeared into. “She has this thing where she’s incapable of holding a grudge and family is very important to her. She’s been really patient waiting for you to come around.”

“She’s great. I mean it. I don’t know how she dealt with me being so… I can’t believe I behaved that way. She accepted my apology, but after everything I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never wanted to see me again.”

“It’s not in her nature to hold onto anger. She kept me from shaking some sense into you a few times too. I’m glad it didn’t come to that and you came around on your own. Or, as Tito would say, got the stick removed from up your butt.”

“He’s always saying the weirdest stuff.”

“I think I’m used to it because I feel like he makes great points. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s kind of a genius.” Our laughter echoed through the room and I slowly felt myself letting go of the anger. It would take time, but I knew things would get better and eventually it’d feel normal.

“I’m proud of you. I’m glad you found someone who takes such good care of you. She’s perfect for you. She’s a nice addition to our family.”

“She is.”

“So, little brother, how’d you lock her down? She’s so much cooler than you.” Her voice softened as she tried to lighten the mood.

“I have no idea.” I shrugged, talking lazy steps toward the kitchen as my sister followed from beside me. “She’s way out of my league.”

“I’m glad you said it.”

“Shut up. Your voice is still annoying.” I joked, she punched my arm softly, then joined my wife by the stove and tried to help the best she could.

[helloaugustmoon]

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[PDA with MJ] ! ˊ

- there’s definitely an era-dependent element to this one: earlier eras he’s shyer about affection in general nevermind publicly, later eras he’s more confident but more wary of his privacy, so would keep PDA pretty minimal

- that said, there are definite exceptions to this

- for one, Michael’s not going to suppress his need to be affectionate with you just bc he’s in public, he’ll simply be more subtle about it

- where at home/in private he’ll makeout with you anytime, anywhere, in public he’ll switch out to holding your hand, playing with your fingers, placing a hand on the small of your back

- Mike keeps it very respectful, of course - you’re his love

- PDA is subtle, but at a constant rate

- keeping contact with you helps relax him in front of the media etc, and he feels a lot more confident with you at his side

- especially since you’ll often lean close to his ear to remind him how handsome he looks, resulting in some lovely pictures of him smiling in front of the press (courtesy of you)

- Michael’s not opposed to putting on a bit of a show (COUGH Lisa Marie MTV VMA’s 1994 COUGH), so giving you kisses on your knuckles in front of the press, on your cheek or your forehead, he’s all about that, and he’ll laugh against your skin when the cameras start flashing like crazy

“Look how crazy they go for you, angel.” He’ll murmur against your skin.

“It’s not for me and you know it.” You’ll giggle, making him laugh quietly again as he insists,

“It is, it is!”

- but, proper kisses? those are for the two of you only

- he’s not gonna makeout with you in public, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the tease

- quiet moments in dark corners of public events where you can still a kiss or two, feel Michael’s fingertips caress your cheeks, place your hands on his chest through his outfit

“Those lips are going to get us in trouble, girl.”

“Baby, where are your hands going?”

“Shh, just let me have you for a minute. Drives me crazy, seeing you dressed so pretty.”

- bc you know as soon as he gets you in the limo on the way home, it’s game over

“Were you teasing me on purpose, baby?” Knowing deadass you were

- partition’s up and so’s he

- no but fr

- apple’s not the only head he knows

- sorry

[alwaysformike]

can i request where reader and michael are in rome in 1988 for the bad tour and they go to a museum on a little date and end up getting a little riled up in public because of michael's tedious tour schedule that prevents them from having any "sex time"?

ִֶָ𓏲࣪ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 🫐༉‧

in which tedious tour schedules force sweet sighs of bliss to fill the sound of people-filled museums.

content warnings: public sex, fingering, p in v, fem! reader, MICHAEL BEING SO SEXY???!

my first request omg??!!! 😣 okay anyways enjoy mls

THE SPRINGTIME AIR OF MAY FILLS YOUR NOSE, DRENCHING YOU IN A WARMTH NEVER FELT BEFORE. Cars zoom past, blowing your hair into your face. Your hand, wrapped thinly around your lover, squeezes.

You are glad people in Rome know how to mind their business, save for the couple of people that clearly don’t get the memo; you and Michael are alone for a reason.

Though, you will admit, you couldn't be sure if the feeling of eyes staring at you in every direction were any better than the constant clicking of paparazzi cameras.

"Well, my love, where to next?" The voice rings through your ears, sending that funny feeling to your tummy again. You blush slightly, ducking your head.

You and the former Jackson 5 member are out for a day on the town, exploring all there is to see in Rome. This, you think, may be the best part of Michael's fame; being able to tour the world with your love.

"Hm," you hum. Of course, it had its downsides, like the schedule that made it almost impossible to see him. "I heard there is a museum just a way down, perhaps we could go there?"

He grins down at you. "The fact you think you even have to ask is blasphemy."

There it was again, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that just would not go away. The two of you make your way down to the Museum, hands still interlinked like chains.

As you walk, it is impossible not to stare at him. Him, with his curly black hair fanning around his face. Him, with his dark eye's cautiously observing as you two cross the street.

It is a crime that you have became so lucky, a sin that he has ended up with you of all people. Because, truly, he was a piece of art that deserved to be in the Museum. Him, with his sharp and chiseled jaw, his lanky but tall figure, his long seductive fingers.

Him.

It is so unfair, the way he floats so gracefully, dancing around with a small quirk of his lips. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Michael." You whisper feebly. The museum was just up ahead, you could see the line following out through door.

"Hm?" He half-heartedly answers. His attention is on moving you through the crowd of people and into the Museum. No lady should stand in line for that long especially not his.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly words have escaped from your list of skills. Your brain, fuzzy and now blank. He pauses in his step, waiting for you to say something. Michael turns, looking at you . Your eyes are staring up at him, those big round eyes that could have any soldier fall to his knees and retreat in seconds.

He was the soldier and the heart was his battlefield.

"Doll?" He questions. It is unlike you to be so quiet, typically yapping about anything that remotely catches your interest.

Your breath hitches. You two are now inside the Museum, statues and paintings lining each wall. "Mike," you whisper. "Something is wrong."

It does not take more than a millisecond for Michael to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly. He cannot help but to worry. "Has something upset you, is the museum too small, was the line too long?" He is throwing questions after questions to you.

Your brain is still fuzzy and woozy, but you mange to peep from his arms and stare deep into his onyx eyes. "Michael, listen. Something is wrong with me."

That does not help. You are back in his thick arms once more, and he is questioning you again. You peel from his arms one last time. You glance up at him, then to his long and vein-covered fingers. Had he always been so sexy? Stupid question, of course he had.

There was something about not seeing him for weeks on end unless it was on stage that made you so feral, so weak in the knees. If it was possible, he looked so much more handsome. Small eyebags rested underneath his eyes but it did not take from his beauty, only added.

You realize now that you sre utterly fucked.

"Michael. Bathroom." You croak, nodding towards the restroom. In seconds the two of you are shoving into the family one and the door is locked behind you.

Michael is frowning, but you can tell he is slowly starting to understand your dilemma. "Need you," you whine out. A smirk unravels onto his face.

"Oh," he nods in understanding. "This is what had my pretty girl all worked up." You agree desperately, hands roaming his t-shirt covered chest.

His fingers wrap around your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the sink. Within seconds his lips are hungrily fighting yours. They dance, a tango of dangerous lust. His hand comes up to hold your jaw, forcing your mouth open so his tounge can slide into your mouth.

You grunt into the kiss. He pauses, pulling away. "Patience, love." You whimper at that, grinding onto the sink.

You would look back and cringe at that, you were sure, but for now, you were desperate. So utterly desperate for anything. You can feel a pool begin to clog your lacy panties. His fingers wander down, they are snakes that slither their way to your garden of eden. Your breath comes out in panted huffs as the snakes constrict your thighs, squeezing with a pain so lustful.

"Michael." You beg. "Please."

"Well, if you insist." He rolls his eyes, bringing his breath closer to your heat. In seconds, the snakes that were once his hands is now his tongue, twisting and twirling around your aroused clit.

You moan, hips rolling against his face. Your hands are white from gripping the sink. He pulls away lustfully and you whine. "Not enough."

He frowns, wiping his face off. "You really are the prettiest idiot, hm, doll? You really think i'm that cruel as to leave my sweet baby so needy, all alone?"

Your doe-eyes peak up at him, and they shine with words you will not say; "but mike, you would do that."

Michael Jackson was infamous for teasing. It'd be no surprise for him to leave you in the dust once again. But after weeks, almost months, of barely seeing him, you know he needs it just as bad as you do.

His mouth is back on you now, and its twisting and twirling everywhere you need. He sucks on your clit, holding there for a couple seconds. Your voice is resonating through the restroom, and reaches it's peak when he pinches your clit with his long fingers.

It hurts so good, and you whimper once again when he pulls away. He chuckles cruelly, turning you into the sink so you can see your fucked out face. Your pigtail braids with bows, now messily drenched with sweat.

"Mike, hurry." You whine.

"God," he groans, unbuckling his fancy pants. "You're so fucking needy. My little needy girl."

He's shoving inside you in a mere second, no room for preparation. It hurts, his thick and veined cock just being pushed into you; though, you don't wuite mind.

Your pretty eyes roll back. Hes moaning into your ear and it's all too much—not seeing him, being so public, your smeared lipstick from all the smooching.

Pleasure hits you like a wave on the ocean, your toes curling in your pretty little mary-janes, hands white from gripping the sink. You feel your orgasm push over you and he presses your cheek into the mirror, letting you watch how his hips snap vigorously into you.

The raw and slutty sound of him over-stimulating you until he finally releases with a grunt is overpowering.

You spend a couple minutes cleaning up. "So good for me, lady-bug. Good girl." He whispers to you sensually, his big hand cupping your cheek.

The two of you exit, eyes widening as the sight of a line fills your vision. A woman is in front of you, her face pulled back in both anger and digust.

"Get a room!" She mutters. As you two walk away, giggling, she yells again. "And not the restroom!"

You and Michael make eye-contact, giggling once again and continuing on your museum date—though you spend the rest of it limping—.

masterlist

[michaeljackson007]

Michael Jackson was different, indeed handsome and charismatic

[dandelionxbby]

how I feel whenever someone reblogs my post and leaves rant tags

[anonymouspyt]

hiiii everyone 💕

My name is Nikki! I’m new to tumblr but not new to the MJ fandom. I write fanfic on Michael exclusively on Wattpad. If you’re interested in reading, the link will be in my bio 🤍 Would love to connect with more heehees/moonwalkers on this app 🤝🏽

[mybreakofdawn]

Loved since the beginning

You and Michael have been friends for as long as you remember, from childhood to adulthood, with ups and downs. But will you guys eventually confess to each other that you love one another?

This begins at the beginning of thriller in the making. I'll try to go through every era, haha, but be patient with me.

____________________________________

Chapter 1

The beginning of what will be

[<3rd pov>]

It is somewhere in 1981, and Y/n was on set watching her childhood best friend filming his music video. She moved her head on the rhythm and smiled as she saw him dance and sing to his own music.

“Cut! Amazing, you guys can take five, “ the director instructed. Y/n stood up, brushing her skirt of a bit when she suddenly got picked up and spun around, making her scream.

“Michael! Put me down!!” She held onto Michael for dear life while he chuckled and softly put Y/n on her feet again.

“I can’t help it, im so happy you are here Y/n it means a lot to me.” He smiled at her, brushing some hair from her face, making her blush a little.

“How can i not support my best friend Mikey?” she giggled. “You also do the same for me. Hell, you just come with me to everywhere i go, on tour, to the studio. My point is, i do it with love.” Y/n said poking his cheeks, making him blush slightly.

“Wel, i do it with as much love as you do, girl~” he grinned and looked into her (e/c) eyes. “You know.. we should make a song together, we haven’t done that before, and we know each other like forever already, “ Michael said, suddenly making Y/n giggle.

“Sure, Mikey, but i should warn you.. i am not perfectly talented like you. “ Y/n pointed at Michael. Michael looked at her with his soft brown eyes.

“Y/n, you are perfect in every way. Dont think so little of yourself, girl~” he sang while twirling her around, stopping her close to him. He tilted her head upwards, looking into her eyes. “You really are Y/n.” he smiled, taking in all her facial features. Y/n blushing by his sudden words, has a loss for words.

“Michael-“ she tried to say his name but got cut off by the director. “Alright, guys! Let’s continue!” Michael looked at me and smiled.

“Well, it looks like i need to let you go, girl~” he sang and gave her a hug and before letting go, giving a kiss on her cheek before spinning around and ran to his spot again. Y/n was speechless and blushed, remembering his lips on her cheek. She slowly sat down and smiled to herself. The music began blasting again from the speakers as she saw Michael go into his role again. She moved her body slightly on the beat of the song being played and looked at Michael, who was dancing. He was so majestic with his moves that he was almost hypnotic, without knowing Y/n bite her lip while she kept staring at Michael, who also noticed her looking at him seeing a slight blush creeping onto her face. Michael smirked slightly and spinned around, full of excitement, a bit too excited as he lost balance. “Woops hehe sorry” he said with a chuckle, smiling innocently and slight embarrassment that took over him, but that soon went away when he heard Y/n laughing her ass off behind the scenes.

“Let’s do that one more time, and Michael, don’t lose your balance.” The producer said, Michael nodded apologetic and dusted himself off before standing on the mark again.

The rest of the filming went smoothly with a few laughs. Eventually, Michael was done, and Y/n decided to wait for Michael in his dressing room. She walked into his dressing room and looked around.

“So messy~, even after all these years.” She chuckled to herself and walked further into the room, looking at every jacket and every photo that was hanging in this room. Suddenly, she lay her eyes onto a photo of her and Michael together when they were younger. She smiled and walked to the picture, grabbing it and looking at it with admiration. In the picture, they were in front of the Hayvenhurst house, their arms around each other’s neck and smiling from ear to ear. She smiled at the memory. “We were young and innocent then.” She said, not noticing that Michael entered the room and was standing behind her.

“That is a very good lyric girl~ Let me write that down before I forget.” He chuckled and grabbed his notebook and wrote the lyric down. Y/n blushed by his sudden appearance and immediately placed the picture down, not turning to him yet. She heard him mouthing the words while he wrote it down. “There, now I won’t forget that.” He looked at it and smiled before placing his notebook back onto the table and wrapping his arms around Y/n, hugging her from the back. Y/n, stil blushing, tried to get herself calm.

“You smell like hard work and dancing sweat.” She chuckled and slowly turned around and hugged him back, taking in his perfect mixed scent of his sweat and perfume. This scent was really something out of this world. After a few minutes, Michael broke the hug and smiled.

“Should we get out of here? It reminds me of work.” He chuckled while still holding each of her arms and looking into her eyes. Y/n blushed ever so slightly and nodded, looking at the clock in his dressing room, for the time.

“Well it is night?” She said while looking back at Michael. “So let’s get dinner.” She moved his arms away and grabbed her bag, searching for her car keys and fishing them out. “It is my treat~. Now come on.” She winked his way, making Michael blush a bit while releasing a chuckle from his lips.

“Wel, I can’t say no to that.” He grabbed his jacket and his bag while walking to the door, opening it. “My lady~” he bowed slightly, reaching his hand out to Y/n. Y/n giggles and gently took his hand, walking through the door.

“Such a gentleman you are~” she giggled, dragging him out of the room. Eventually, walking through the doors of the building, they went outside. Y/n grabbed her car keys and walked to her car, a Black Raven coloured Ford Mustang convertible from the year 65. “There is my baby~” she said while tapping the hood softly before unlocking her car. Michael chuckled at her.

“You really love your car, don’t you, Y/n?” Michael said, walking to the other side, opening his door. Y/n gasped fakely and held her hand in front of her chest to make it more dramatic.

“Yes! I worked my ass off for this beauty~.” She laughed and opened her door, went in, and turned the car on. “Let me bless your ears, Mikey.” She put on the handbrake and set her foot on the gas, making it roar like a beast. Michael smiled, seeing her so enthusiastic and went into the car, closing the door. Y/n looked at him and smiled. “Now that, dear Michael, is the sound a car should make,” she beamed and closed her door also. She turned her head to the front and checked all her mirrors.

“Wel, in my opinion, it just makes a lot of noise~” he teased while putting on his seat belt. Y/n also put her seat belt on and softly chuckled at him.

“Oh shut it, I know you love it.” She said and turned on her radio. Instantly, her cassette player began to play her Destiny cassette from The Jacksons with the song ‘Things I do for you’. Michael immediately turned his head to Y/n and smirked.

“So you do listen!!” He yelled and playfully punched her arm, in disablief but secretly he knew, but she would never tell.

“Hey! I never said I didn’t?!” She laughed and drove off, keeping her eyes on the road but also grooving a little. Michael saw this, and his eyes began to sparkle, Y/n looked at him for a second and smirked, beginning to sing his lines from the song.

“People all over the world~.”

“Are the same everywhere I go ah.”

“I give in this ah,”

“I give in to that ah.”

“Every day, it bothers me so~”

Michael looks at her, his eyes as wide as can be. He never knew she loved one of his own made songs, especially knowing the lyrics to his own song word by word. Michael blushed and smiled his wonderful and gentle smile.

"Am i in a bad situation?”

“People taking me to the extreme ah,”

“Am I being used da”

“I just need a clue, ah,

“I don’t know which way to go~”

Michael loved the way she groved, moved while singing, and still kept focus on the road ahead of her. He found that extremely hot and couldn’t look away from her. It made him feel good in a way.

“So I took my problems to a doctor.”

“So he could check me out,”

Michael jumped in with his voice, what was actually his brothers deep voice.

“He don’t know,”

Y/n laughed and kept on singing.

“Took it to a palm reader,”

“So she could read my hand~”

“She don’t know,”

The two of them started laughing while Michael began to cough on the second time.

“I can’t hit that low.” He laughed and held his stomach. After that, the rest of the car ride was just them enjoying the album further. After the song ended, Y/n turned the volume a bit softer and took a right turn. Michael turned his head to her again.

“I never have thought you would listen to us,” he said while looking at her with interest.

“Well~ you guys make such good fucking music, I just have to listen to it~” she giggled. “And you are singing it of course” she smirked while saying that, slightly looking over to Michael, seeing him blush. She parked in a parking space and turned the engine off. “We are hereeee~~~” she looked at Michael with the brightest smile. Michael, of course curious of where they are, looked out off the window and instantly his eyes widen but so is his smile.

“Kentucky!!” He yelled as a child of how excited he was. “That is my favorite!” He beamed with a big smile.

“Well, let’s go, Mikey.” She stepped out from her car, grabbed her bag in the process, and closed the door behind her. Michael, following Y/n, jumped out of the car and jumped up and down from excitement. Y/n walked to Michael’s side, closing his door, and smiled.

“Come on~ let’s go~~ “ he grabbed one of her hands. “Pleaseeee~~” he whined while looking into her eyes with his big brown ones. Y/n smiled even more.

“We are going~ Come on, then.” With one hand, she locked her car, and with the other, she held Michael’s hand tightly but not too tight. She knew how Mikey could react she found it.. cute.

“You are taking too long~ Come on~” Michael said while basically dragging Y/n to the KFC, making her laugh a little. As they walked into the KFC, no one noticed yet that they walked in. Michael kept holding Y/n’s hand because he is a very shy guy. They walked to the counter, and Y/n ordered for the. Also, she knew what he absolutely loved. After some time waiting, they could hear whispers around them. She felt Michael’s hand begin to tighten around hers.

“Hey Mikey, it’s okay, do not worry” she smiled at him, and he just nodded.

“113!” their order was ready, and Y/n, with Michael still holding her hand, grabbed the bags and thanked the person. They turned around and walked out of the place.

“Don’t worry about it Mikey, you can eat your chicken in the car I know you must be starving after shooting” she said heartwarming and walked to her car, unlocking it when they were there and opened the door for Michael. “After you~” she giggled and guided Mikey to his seat.

“Thank you, Y/n~” he smiled back at her and sat down, closing his door. Y/n walked to her side and opened the door, giving the bags to Michael. He took them and sat down in her seat, closing her door and also behind her. “Thank you truly, Y/n.. really” he said again after putting on his seat belt. She smiled and did the same.

“Michael, it really is no big deal, I’m to be honest already used to all that.” She started her car and drove off from the KFC.

“I hope I get used to it soon, you know how my mind can be sometimes..” he looked down into the bag with the chicken buckets sadly. Y/n softly grabbed his hand, Michael looked at her with sad eyes.

“Michael it may be rough right now, and I know how your mind can be because my mind works the same. It will get better, eventually it wil, and you know I wil be there at every step you take, I wil be there to guide you through out all the bullshit and fuckery there wil be at every of that step.” She slightly looked at him with a smile. “I will protect you.” She fully looked at him, as they were at a red light. Michael felt speechless, his mouth slightly opened, and he felt something strange in his stomach. Y/n looked away again, seeing the light turned green and took a left. It was quiet on the rest of the ride, but eventually, Michael searched for his words.

“I am truly thankful to have you as my best friend Y/n.. and i will try my hardest to do the same for you.” He blushed slightly, thinking of his future with Y/n on his side. Y/n giggled and softly ruffled his hair.

“That is what I am for Mikey.” She giggled once more while stopping the car, looking over her shoulders and the mirrors before parking her car on her porch in reverse. “Now let’s go inside and eat~.” Michael nodded in response at Y/n, and they got out of the car, Y/n grabbing her bag and Mikey's bag out of the car and locking it before going inside her house.

_________________________________________

That’s it for chap oneeee hope you guys loved itttt!! It took a while to make sadly but the first challenge is done!!!!

Let me know what you guys think for now heheheh.

Love you guys

[a-major-love]

Night Fever

Pairing - Michael Jackson x Fem!Reader

Summary - Of all people you could have met that fateful night, it had to be him.

Word Count - 1k+

Warnings - MDNI, fem pronouns, mentions of smoking & alcohol, no use of y/n

A/N - I always imagined dancing with Michael was incredibly fun but also probably intimidating. Enjoy!

1977

Spotlights pierced through the haze of smoke filtering the air, beaming down on the partygoers. Sweat rolled off their skin, mingling with the overpowering stench of perfume and cigarettes. The men and women’s eyes twinkled at you, sparkling from pressed glitter. Their bright, painted lips mouthed along to the stream of ABBA lyrics filling the crowded space. The music pouring from the speakers vibrated under your feet. Studio 54 was lively, and terrifying all at once. 

“Friday nights are always the busiest,” your friend – Alicia –  mentioned from beside you. Her stark black hair was pulled into a tight bun, revealing her teal colored eyeshadow. The sequined dress she wore hung off her bronzed shoulders, flecks of glitter dotted her skin. 

You glanced down at the denim jumpsuit you wore, with a thick belt secured around the waist. Somehow, despite the pumps digging into the soles of your feet, you felt mildly underdressed. You scanned the crowd, biting your lip as your eyes swept over the other dancers. 

“Let’s go, birthday girl,” Alicia said, nudging you towards the center of the room. 

You giggled. “I’m just trying to appreciate the atmosphere.” 

“Well, you can go appreciate it out on the dancefloor.” 

She grasped onto your forearm, pushing through the cluster of hot bodies that brushed against you two. You could feel the men’s gazes pass over you, their heavy eyes glancing over your form before looking away. Glasses with golden liquid, and pierced olives swung around you as the people got lost in the music. 

You finally approached the middle of the dance floor, where a bright, glowing disco ball hung above your heads. Alicia broke out into a grin, her pearly white teeth pointed to the ceiling. Her dangled hearings whipped around her face as she began swaying to the music.  

It was initially her idea, at first, to celebrate your birthday at Studio 54. All you knew about the nightclub was that the entrance fee was too expensive, and the line never seemed to ease up. As much as you adored Alicia, you couldn’t find a good reason to stand outside all night – in New York during the spring – hoping to make it inside before the place closed. If there’s one thing you understood about spring in New York, it was how cold the nights could be. 

So, how in the hell she pulled this off, you were sure she would take to her grave. 

You laughed, watching her bounce around, throwing her head back. Acting as if a plethora of eyes weren’t on her. You swayed your hips, letting your eyes close as the sweet sounding harmonies of the Bee Gees washed over you. It felt as if everybody on the dance floor was in sync, breathing and moving in time with each other. 

Sharing one heart, one pulse to the music. 

Your body moved and rocked, becoming bewitched by the entrancing tune. 

“Excuse me-

You suddenly bumped into someone, startling both you and the stranger. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, whipping around to face them. A pair of oak, brown eyes crinkled at you as the strange man chuckled to himself. 

“It’s alright,” he assured, adjusting his blazer. “You’re not a bad dancer, you know.” 

You playfully grinned at him, “Have you been watching me dance?”

“I – uh didn’t mean it like that,” he stammered.

You scanned the man, taking in his wide doe eyes and large afro currently dusted with glossy confetti. A gold pendant rested between the dip of his chest, a sliver of deep brown skin peaking through the few undone buttons.

Somewhere, in the back corners of your mind, familiarity tugged at your brain. 

“Have we met before?” you inquired, furrowing your brows. 

“No, we haven’t,” he answered, perhaps a little too quickly. 

You opened your mouth to reply, when he stuck his hand out. 

“Is it alright if we danced together?” he asked.

Heat creeped up your face, as you took his inviting hand – his skin was silky smooth and warm in your grasp. He softly smiled at you, as he tugged your form closer to him. Swiftly, he twirled you around, giggling at your reaction as you nearly stumbled from the sudden movement. You caught yourself in time, taking both his hands as you grooved to the deep bass coming from the speakers. 

His eyes remained trained on you, as if analyzing every motion and gesture you made. The music enveloped you two, as the dance floor fell away, along with the people surrounding it. The club was nothing but a blur of color, as the hot white lights radiated down on you two. The music pulsed through your skin, reverberating against your ribcage. The sweet, lingering scent of nicotine floated through the air. It was as if the dancefloor came alive from under your feet suddenly, a pulsating heartbeat belonging to the untamable beast known as music. His hands never left yours, as he pulled you into his side, before going into a spin. 

You watched, in fascination. “You’re not a bad dancer yourself.”

He bashfully smiled. “Well, I’ve been dancing for most of my life.”

“Do you do it for a career, or something?” “...You could say that.”

He twirled you again, interrupting whatever train of thought you were processing. 

The night went on endlessly it seemed, as if time had temporarily stopped. Yet, the crowd of Studio 54 never broke off. A stream of guests revolved in and out of the space, some dressed in dripping jewels that outshined the hanging disco ball or extravagant outfits that felt expensive to even look at. It felt as if you were in a lion's mouth, a wet, breathing cage waiting to clamp down on you. 

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around your frame.

“Let’s get going, my feet are killing me,” Alicia groaned, already tugging you away. 

“Wait!” The man called out, feeling your hand loosen in his grip. Alicia squinted at him, trying to make out his features through the alcohol induced brain fog. 

“You look a little familiar...” she muttered.

“I’ll meet you outside,” you explained, nudging your friend back. Alicia glanced over at you, glossy lips pouting at your urgency. She finally caved, rolling her eyes as she knowingly nodded and began to maneuver her way through the crowd. 

You turned to face him. “I had a really great time, uh-

“Michael,” he introduced, squeezing your hand. 

Had he been holding it the entire time?

“Well, it was really fun dancing with you, Michael.”

His eyes flickered between yours, as if weighing something in his mind. Michael eventually sighed, reluctantly loosening his grip and letting your hand fall to your side. 

“I hope we get to do it again, sometime,” he said. With wistful smile growing on his lips. 

You returned the smile, clenching your hand from the sudden loss of warmth. Without another word, you turned and made your way to the exit. 

The bumping music followed you out the double doors and onto the bustling street of New York City’s nightlife. A breeze brushed against your bare arms, biting at your skin. Alicia was leaning against a car, impatiently tapping her foot. Her eyes finally landed on you, wearing a strange expression you couldn’t quite place. 

“Girl, I have several questions,” she started, opening the car door for you. 

You snorted. “Ask me when it’s not past midnight.” 

She sidled into the passenger seat, as you started up the engine. The bright, white lights of Studio 54 reflected off the hood of your car. 

You could still feel his presence, even during the drive home. 

[michaelsfavgirl]

tied & taken

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael finally indulges one of his most sinful fantasies: tying you to the bed like the perfect present you are and fucking you stupid over and over, until you're utterly spent.

Tags: smut, bondage, blindfold, pre-established safe words, dom!michael, sub!reader, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, dick too big (but that's not new here).

Word Count: 5k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: let's finish this year with a bang!

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The room glows softly, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. Outside the frosted windows snow falls in lazy flakes, blanketing the world in white. Inside, though, your world is anything but calm. Goosebumps pebble your skin and your heart beats faster as you lie back on the bed, completely bare, just as naked as he is.

Above you, Michael’s chain dangles, catching the warm light. It sways slightly as he leans over you. Your breathing hitches when his warm fingers wrap gently around your wrist, bringing it up to the headboard. The luxurious red silk ribbon glides against your skin, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the winter weather.

He works slowly, taking his time, as though savoring each second. His hands are careful but firm, tying the ribbon around your wrist and securing it to the headboard. When he finishes, he takes the loose ends and ties a small, elegant bow. It’s almost ridiculous how much care he’s putting into the details.

Your eyes wander up to his face, and you catch a look in his eyes that sends another shiver through you. It’s a look of control, of desire, and something more—something deeper, a hunger that he’s clearly been holding back. How long has he been waiting for this? The thought makes your cheeks warm.

He notices your dazed expression and gently tilts your chin up, drawing you back into the moment. “What color?” he asks, his voice low, grounding you even as it makes your heart race.

For a second, your focus drifts to the slickness trailing down your slit, a mortifying reminder of how ready your body is for him. You swallow hard, blinking up at him before quietly responding, “green.”

Michael’s lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your forehead.

He moves to your other wrist, repeating the process with the same care. Once it’s tied you tilt your head up, looking at your wrists and you tug lightly, testing the bonds. They hold firm but not uncomfortably so.

Michael notices and reaches out to cradle your cheek. His thumb strokes the soft skin there as he asks, “Want me to loosen them up? Don’t want my baby to be uncomfortable.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache, and you shake your head, unable to look away from his deep brown eyes. How does he do that? How does he manage to be so gentle and so commanding all at once? It’s maddening and intoxicating.

“Use your words,” he prompts, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You feel heat rising in your face, and you whisper, “No.”

A proud smile spreads across his face, and he coos softly, “Just like that.”

His big hands begin their descent, trailing down your body with deliberate slowness. When his fingers brush against your breasts, your nipples pebble even harder, the mix of the cold air and your arousal making them hypersensitive. He pauses there, cupping your tits in his warm hands and giving them special attention. His thumbs brush over your stiff buds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Your breathing picks up, shallow and quick, as he kneads your breasts, his focus so intense it makes you wonder. What other freaky shit is he into? The thought almost makes you giggle, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Michael notices immediately. His head cocks to the side, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “What’s got you smiling, huh?”

You quickly shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble, trying to stifle the grin.

“Nothing?” he repeats, his smirk widening. “You sure about that?”

Before you can answer, he leans down, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. The teasing tug of his mouth erases the smile from your face in an instant, replacing it with a gasp as heat pools low in your belly. He sucks gently at first, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he pulls back slightly, only to take it deeper into his mouth.

Your head falls back against the pillows, your body arching into him as his hands greedily squeeze your waist. He alternates between your breasts, worshiping each one with his lips and tongue. Your tied wrists tug instinctively at the ribbons.

“Michael,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He hums in response, the vibration against your sensitive nipple sending a shockwave through you. His hands slide lower, skimming over your ribs and settling on your hips. He grips you firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its assault on your chest.

He finally let your nipple slip free, a thin string of saliva still connecting him to you. The sight alone has your breath catching, but it’s the way he leans back, his movements slow, that makes you squirm.

Michael’s body shifts, his broad shoulders and toned chest glistening faintly under the soft light. His cock, thick and heavy, bobs between his legs as he moves, curving downwards from how fat it is. His tip peeking from the hood all glossy from his precum. You can’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight. You’re so caught up in the sight of him that you barely register his hands sliding down to your ankle, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses up the length of your leg.

He reaches your knee, his kisses growing more seductive. His gaze locks with yours, and the lookon his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. Slowly, he wraps the red ribbon around your bent knee, his fingers brushing your skin as he ties it off. The silk is soft but secure as he ties it to the headboard, your knee now folded up so tightly that it’s nearly touching your shoulder. The position leaves you gasping softly, the exposed stretch of your body making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

He leans over to do the same with your other leg. His cock hovers dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper when it doesn’t quite touch you. Michael’s smirk deepens at your disappointment. When he finishes tying your other knee to the headboard, he finally sits back on his heels, surveying you like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

You swallow hard, testing the restraints. Your legs can barely move, and the angle leaves you completely exposed. Your pussy is spread wide, glistening in the soft light, your swollen clit and drooling entrance on full display. You can feel the heat radiating off your body, your vulnerability making your cheeks burn hotter. You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of mercy, but all you find is his smug, knowing smile.

“You look perfect, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his large hands pressing against the backs of your thighs. He pushes them closer to your chest, folding you even tighter, and the motion has your walls clenching around nothing. A desperate whine escapes your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Michael bites his lip and lets go of your legs, leaning back slightly as he picks up another length of ribbon. The crimson fabric slides through his fingers as he looks at you thoughtfully. “Sure about this too?” he asks, his tone teasing.

You nod quickly, your movements impatient, feeling like you might combust if he doesn’t touch you soon.

He tsks softly, shaking his head. “What did I say about using your words like a big girl?”

A frustrated whine escapes your throat. Your body is strung so tight that you feel like you might snap. “I’m sure,” you say through gritted teeth, your voice wavering. “Just… please.”

Michael leans forward, his hand cradling your cheek. His thumb brushes against your heated skin as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The tenderness soothes you slightly, but it’s not enough to ease the ache between your legs. While kissing you, his hands move to the sides of your head, lifting it gently.

The blindfold slides over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The sudden loss of sight heightens every other sensation—the warmth of his hands, the faint scent of his cologne, the sound of your own uneven breathing filling the room. 

When Michael pulls back, the bed shifts slightly under his weight. You strain your ears, trying to figure out where he is or what he’s doing, but all you’re met with is silence. The anticipation is maddening, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing.

“Michael?” you call out softly, your voice trembling.

There’s no response, only the sound of the bed creaking slightly. Did he get off the bed? Is he watching you from somewhere else in the room? You feel so exposed, so utterly helpless, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Michael watches you from his spot on the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. He can see how worked up you are, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your thighs trembling in their bonds. The sight of you like this—vulnerable, needy, and completely at his mercy—makes his cock twitch painfully. But he’s not done teasing you yet.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Remember your safeword?” you nod and lick your lips. He hums satisfied.

Michael’s presence looms, his gaze burning into you even though you can’t see him. You can feel him watching, his attention laser-focused on your completely exposed form. The silence is maddening.

He sits back on his heels, stroking himself slowly, his hand wrapping firmly around his thick shaft. He’s been hard for what feels like hours, teasing you and himself, drawing this game out longer than you thought possible. His eyes stay glued to your puffy cunt. The way you’re spread open for him, your knees tied up near your shoulders, your weeping pussy on full display—it’s enough to make his cock leak with need.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with heat. “So needy. Always begging without saying a word.”

You don’t respond, your throat too tight, your body too aware of the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t need an answer anyway. His thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, spreading the precum as he strokes himself lazily.

The moment his tip makes contact with your clit, you gasp, your body jolting at the sudden stimulation. The wet, heavy tap makes your eyes flutter against the ribbon. 

He lifts his cock away just as you instinctively try to grind your hips upward. The movement leaves you empty, aching for more, and you let out a frustrated whine. Your wrists and knees tug at the restraints, but there’s no give. You’re completely helpless.

“Ah, ah,” he coos, his tone mocking but affectionate. “Don’t get too greedy now.”

Greedy? The word makes you want to scoff. He’s been tormenting you all day, bringing you to the edge of release over and over, only to pull back at the last second. Your body is on fire but you bite your tongue. You know better than to talk back—it’ll only give him an excuse to draw this out even longer.

Michael notices the way your lips purse, the telltale sign of your irritation. It makes him smile. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, leaning forward to hover over your bound frame. His weight shifts the bed, and you feel the heat of his body radiating down to you.

He stops close to your face, his breath ghosting over your lips. You can feel how near he is, so close that you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. Your body tenses in anticipation, your lips parting slightly as you tilt your head up to meet him. But he moves at the last second, just out of reach, and your head falls back against the pillow with a frustrated sigh.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Were you expecting something?”

You pout, your lips trembling slightly. He’s playing with you, toying with you, and you can’t even see his expression. It’s infuriating.

Feeling a pang of guilt at your defeated expression, Michael finally closes the distance. His lips press against yours, warm and tender, an apology of sorts. You sigh into the kiss, your body relaxing for the first time in what feels like hours. His tongue slips into your mouth and for a few blissful moments, he gives in to you, letting you taste him, feel him, and your heart swells at the intimacy.

But it’s over too soon. He pulls back, leaving you breathless, and begins trailing kisses down your body. His mouth moves slowly, savoring every inch of you. He kisses along the curve of your neck, down to your collarbone, his hands greedily squeezing your sides as he goes. His lips continue their journey down your stomach. His hands knead your thighs, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he takes his time worshipping you.

On instinct you tilt your head upward as if that will help you see something—anything—but the blindfold holds firm, the dark fabric blocking out all light. You can’t even find the smallest gap to peek through. Frustrated, you let your head fall back against the pillows again.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Michael says, his voice muffled against your inner thigh. “Completely helpless. Completely mine.”

Your walls clench instinctively around nothing. The need inside you is almost unbearable. But Michael doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. He’s savoring this—savoring you—and it only makes your desperation grow.

He reaches your dripping core, and your breath catches as you feel the first teasing puff of warm air against your sensitive, slick folds. The sensation is maddening, a small, desperate whimper escapes your lips, and you can feel the corners of his smirk even though you can’t see it.

“Patience, my girl,” he murmurs.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise. But even as he speaks, he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he just stares, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of your swollen, sticky folds. Your hips jerk instinctively, seeking any kind of relief.

You hear him chuckle softly. “So desperate,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But that’s exactly how I want you.”

Before you can respond, his tongue finally makes contact. The first broad lick of his hot, wet tongue over your folds pulls a choked gasp from your lips. He doesn’t rush, taking his time as he laps at you, savoring the tangy sweetness of your slick like it’s his favorite dessert. He drags his tongue slowly along every crevice, deliberately avoiding your throbbing button.

He sucks gently on your folds, his lips closing around them as he alternates between soft kisses and teasing nibbles. His tongue dips lower, swirling around your entrance before sliding inside, the wet heat of it making you clench helplessly around the intrusion. A shaky moan escapes your lips as your body arches toward him. But still he ignores your clit, leaving the most sensitive part of you aching for attention.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking. 

He pulls back just enough to speak, not wanting to be too separated from your delicious cunt. “Please, what?” he asks, his tone casual, almost amused.

Your cheeks burn hotter, and you swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I- I’ve been good,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so good.”

He hums thoughtfully, his wet lips brushing against your inner thigh as he considers your plea. “You think so?” he asks, his tone playful, almost taunting. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, yes,” you whisper. “Please, I-”

But he doesn’t let you finish. His mouth is on you again, his tongue delving into every crevice, every fold, tasting you so thoroughly it’s almost obscene. But still, he avoids your clit, leaving it untouched, the neglect driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body trembles as you tug at the silk ribbons holding you in place. The heightened sensations of being so bound and blindfolded only add to the insatiable craving. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You want to beg, to cry, to scream—but you bite your lip, trying to hold back.

He notices, of course. He always notices. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You look like you’re about to cry. Is it that bad?”

“Yes,” you sob, unable to hold back any longer. “Just let me-”

Relenting his tongue moves higher. The first deliberate flick of his tongue over your clit sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, and you cry out, your entire body jerking against the restraints. He doesn’t stop this time, his tongue flicking your sensitive nub with just the right amount of pressure.

Your head falls back, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds rapidly. He holds you there, right on the edge, his lips sealed tightly around your pulsing clit.

And when you finally cum, it’s like a dam breaking. Your body shaking as you cry out his name, your voice cracking with the intensity of it. He doesn’t stop, his tongue and lips drawing out every last shudder, every last tremor, until you’re left gasping for air, completely spent.

Michael pulls back slowly, his lips unlatching and covered with your slick, his eyes dark and satisfied as he watches you come down from the high. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of praise. “So good for me.” 

The room is silent except for your ragged breaths and the faint creak of the mattress beneath you. The blindfold remains snug over your eyes, leaving your other senses to compensate. Every little noise—his breathing, the subtle shift of his weight—feels magnified.

You try to move, to close your legs and shield your overstimulated pussy, but the silk ribbons binding your knees to the headboard keep you helplessly spread. The effort only causes the restraints to tug against your skin, a reminder of just how exposed you are. You whimper softly, the vulnerability making you hyper aware of your slick dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

A low chuckle rumbles from him. “Trying to close up on me?” he teases, his voice dark and smooth. “Thought you know better than that.”

You hear him shift closer, and then his fingers are there, just barely ghosting over your drenched folds. The touch is featherlight. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more contact, but his hand moves away just as quickly, leaving you panting and desperate.

“So twitchy,” he says. “So sensitive. That’s what happens when my pretty girl is all tied up, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, your chest rising and falling as his fingers return, this time pressing gently against your quivering entrance. The tip of one finger dips inside, just enough to make you whimper, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. He doesn’t push further, though, just toys with your hole, circling and teasing until you’re nearly in tears again from the frustration.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Just made you cum, yet your greedy little pussy wants more, doesn't she?”  

His fingers finally press deeper, sliding knuckle-deep into your wet depth. Your mouth falls open as the stretch sends a jolt of pleasure through you, but it’s still not enough—not nearly enough. 

He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that makes your back arch and a sharp gasp leave your lips. “There we go,” he says, his other hand reaching down to wrap around his stiff, lengthy cock. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes locked on your needy cunt. The bulbous tip of his cock glistens with precum, and he lets a thick bead of it drip onto your folds, mix with your juices.

“Look at this mess,” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm. “No one gets to see you like this, only me.”

He adds another finger, spreading you open, the stretch deliciously overwhelming, and you cry out, involuntary tugging at the restraints. His free hand tightens around his cock, fisting the veiny length as he watches you squirm and writhe beneath him.

He slows his movements, his fingers sliding out of you as you whine at the loss. You can hear him licking his fingers clean, the wet, sinful sounds making your cheeks burn. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice sincere, lacking that teasing tone. “Once I’m inside you, I won’t be able to hold back. You know that, don’t you, my clever girl?”

“mhm,” you gasp, nodding vigorously. “I know, I know.”

He chuckles softly at your eagerness. “Good,” he says. 

He positions himself at your entrance. His girthy, meaty cock presses against your sticky lips, teasing and testing your limits. Your breath hitches, the tremors running through you making it impossible to stay still. He notices, of course, his sharp eyes drinking in every quiver of your restrained body.

“Shh, easy now,” he murmurs softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. His hand caresses your hip before gripping it firmly, his possessive touch grounding you. “Need you to relax, sweetheart. If you don’t, I won’t be able to fit.” His tone is gentle but laced with command.

You nod obediently, biting your lip as you try to relax, though the very thought of his monstrous size has your walls fluttering in anticipation. His hand tightens on your hip, anchoring you in place as he lines himself up. He shifts his weight slightly, and you feel the warmth of his tip nudging at your entrance. Slowly, he slides the glossy head through your folds, mixing his precum with your slick.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to push inside, his tip stretching you open. A whimper escapes your lips as your body struggles to accommodate his girth, the slight sting of the stretch making your eyes flutter behind the blindfold. He groans deeply, the sound guttural and full of restraint as he fights the urge to shove himself in all at once.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep.

He glides in deeper, each thick inch making your body tense. His hold on your soft hip tightens, his thumb brushing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you. When he finally buries himself to the hilt, his heavy balls pressing firmly against your ass, you let out a strangled cry, your head pressing back into the pillow as your mouth falls open. The stretch is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust, your folds stretched impossibly wide around him. “Such a perfect present for me, stuffed full of my cock.” His voice is thick with pride and lust.

His words send a flush of heat to your cheeks. Before you can respond, he leans down, his broad chest pressing against yours as his lips capture yours in a hungry, sloppy kiss. His kisses swallowing your whimpers as he devours you.

You lose yourself in the feeling, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips, the press of his body, the stretch of his cock buried deep inside you. Then, without warning, he starts to move, his hips pulling back before driving forward with a powerful thrust. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, and you gasp against his lips, your moans spilling freely as he sets a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each plunge is hard and fast, his hips pistoling against the back of your thighs, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. The squelching sounds of your soaked pussy are loud, debaucherous, and they seem to drive him even wilder. You can feel the creamy ring of your juices forming at the base of his cock, coating his dark, coiled pubic hair, and the thought makes your pout. It’s a shame you can’t see it for yourself.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. “You’re making such a mess on my cock.”

Your wrists tug at the ribbons binding you to the headboard, the tension making your arms ache slightly, but the sensation only adds to the intensity. Your tits bounce with each powerful thrust, your body rocking against the mattress as he takes you with an almost animalistic fervor. His groans mix with your cries, the smell of sex filling the air.

His lips latch onto your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nips and sucks, marking you as his. Each bite sends jolts of heat through your body, claiming you in a way that feels primal and possessive. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access, even as his pace leaves you gasping for air. His cock hammers against your cervix with each thrust, and the pressure makes your legs tremble and your toes curl.

The blindfold over your eyes grows damp as tears of pleasure stream down your face. The fabric, already a deep red, darkens as it absorbs the evidence of your ecstasy. Your outstretched arms and legs ache from being bound for so long, but the sheer intensity of being impaled on his cock makes the discomfort fade into the background. Your entire world narrows to the sensation of him, the overwhelming stretch, the animalistic rhythm, and the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your release builds quickly, your walls fluttering around him as your body reaches its limit. Without warning, you squirt, a gush of liquid soaking his cock, his abdomen, and his thighs. The release is powerful and uncontrollable, a strangled cry escapes your lips. He groans in response, his voice rough and laced with desire.

He curses under his breath, his hips never faltering. If anything, he fuck you harder, the wetness only spurring him on. The bed creaks louder, rocking with his movements, and you swear it might break under the force of his pounding. “Come on, baby, give it to me. Drench cock.”

Your body spasms, squirting again and again as he drives you into overstimulation. Your juices spray in every direction, soaking everything. The sensitivity becomes unbearable, and you start to shake, your voice high-pitched and breathy as you babble incoherently. “It’s too much, too much!” you manage to whine, your words slurred from the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear as he coos softly. “Shh, I know, sweetheart, I know. But you can take it. Just one more for me, yeah?”

His fingers find your slippery, swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles. The additional stimulation sends your mind into a haze, and you scream as another orgasm tears through you. Your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, milking him as you soak him once more, your body convulsing uncontrollably. Your hands tug at the ribbons, and your hard nipples graze against his chest, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He groans loudly, his hips stuttering as your tightness pushes him over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside you, his heavy cock throbbing as he spills his hot, milky load into your fluttering pussy. The warmth of his release soothes your overstimulated walls, but the sheer volume has it spilling out of you, dripping down to coat your asshole and the sheets beneath you.

He stays there, pressed against you, his length still buried inside as he lets you come down from the high. His rough demeanor softens as he reaches up to gently remove the blindfold, revealing your tear-streaked, flushed face. His fingers brush your hair back as he cups your cheek tenderly.

You let your eyes adjust. Gaze drifting to his face illuminated by the twinkling tree in the corner. You can see his curls sticking to his forehead and his lips parted, breathing heavily. What a man.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern. “Was that too much?”

You shake your head, your body too spent to form words. He presses a kiss to each of your wrists before carefully untying them, his touch delicate and soothing. He does the same to your knees, unbinding them and letting your legs fall limply to the bed. The relief of being able to move again is immediate, and you groan softly as the ache in your limbs starts to fade.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his tone filled with affection. He grabs a glass of water from the nightstand and helps you drink, holding the glass to your lips as you sip slowly. Once you’re rehydrated, he sets it aside and slides out of you with deliberate care, your walls weakly squeezing around him, his softened cock wet with your combined release. He groans quietly, clearly struggling to keep himself from getting hard again as he watches your pussy gape, leaking his cum.

“God,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “We should do this again someday.”

You manage a weak laugh, your voice hoarse from crying out. “Only if I get to tie you up next time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

You pout, rolling your eyes, but a mischievous smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You’re already scheming on how you’ll get him to agree. After all, isn’t he the one who always says, “happy wife, happy life?” Well this is exactly what will make you really happy.

© michaelsfavgirl 2025

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @virgomjj @michaels-nonbinary-child @veavixen @elthoughtzos @kingayanna @kaoritowa @callsignwidow @valeriaruins @writtenbychris @yunkilm @blackynsupremacy

[how-serene]

Next To You

Pairing - Darryl x Fem!Reader

Summary - Fed up with your parents' constantly arguing, you confide in Darryl.

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - heavy angst, comfort, reader and darryl are teens, established friendship, darryl being a sweetheart, mentions of an unhealthy marriage, reader just venting, no use of y/n, mother and daughter dynamics

April, 1986

The slam of the front door reverberated throughout the apartment building, shaking the paper thin walls. Your stomps echoed down the stairwell, following you outside. Brooklyn’s humidity stuck to your skin, the dense air almost suffocating. The spring moon hung high in the sky, illuminating down on you. A street lamp flickered, bugs hovering around its dim glow. 

You sat on the front steps, bringing your knees together. Above you, the sounds of your parents' voices spilled through the open window, a series of curses being the only thing you could make out. Embarrassment creeped up your neck, knowing you weren’t the only one who heard them. It felt as if someone had dug their fingers in your heart, splitting it open. 

Your home felt warped, like walking through a fun maze. Mirrors twisted and warped familiar faces, while doors led to inky black spaces that stretched on forever. It was dizzying, knowing every turn you made and door you opened was wrong. The bitter arguments between your parents, where spit and threats would fly, was draining. Yet your mother claimed somewhere beneath all the rubble she loved him. She always had her hands clasped together when she said it, as if it were a prayer. You wondered sometimes, if she was lying. 

But when the kitchen light would get caught on her tears, you knew it was the truth. Despite it all, it was the fucking truth. 

A pair of black loafers appeared beside you, nudging the side of your foot. 

“I heard your door slam…

His voice wormed its way into your head, pulling you back into focus. Darryl sat beside you, his knee knocking against yours. The wool fabric of his coat itched against your bare arm, amplifying the closeness between you two. 

“I just had to get out of there.” You muttered, picking at your nails. 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. You two settled in a comfortable silence, as you stared off in the street. A stray dog made its way past, walking along the curb and weaving its way through the silver trash cans. Its shaggy fur was matted, either with dirt build-up or blood. It trotted off, in search of food and a warm corner to rest in. 

“I just…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “I just hate them sometimes, when they get like this. All the constant screaming matches, and anger, every single day.” 

“You shouldn’t say you hate them-

“But I do!” You snapped, looking over at him. Darryl leaned back, flinching from your sudden outburst. You could feel him shifting away from you, the little sliver of distance growing. Shame creeped up your neck, anchoring you to the stone steps. The flicker of anger in you quickly died, replaced by a disgust so deep it waded in your stomach. 

“I’m so sorry, Darryl.” You whispered, a sob working its way up your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, before overflowing. You could taste their saltiness on the corners of your lips. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Darryl reassured, reaching for your hand. The gloves he wore were warm as they cradled your wrist. You wished he took them off, so you could feel the lines in his palm pressed against yours. 

“I don’t want to be like them.” You confessed, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m so scared I am, though, that my future is going to be like theirs. Settled with a dead-beat man, no career, while finding every excuse to stay.” 

Tears dribbled down your cheek, blurring your vision. The realization that you might be like your mother was nauseating. Perhaps this was every daughter's fate, to realize their body was never their own, but their mother’s. Every-time you looked in the mirror, the smallest feature was a reminder of her. You wondered, if you peeled back your skin, would you find her underneath? 

Darryl tugged at your hand, a silent plea for you to look at him. His wide doe eyes shimmered, as he reached up and swiped at your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You clutched onto his wrist, bottom lip quivering as you bit back a cry. 

“You’re not like them.” He stated, the gravity of his words stalling your racing thoughts. 

“How do you know?” 

“Because…” He stalled, licking his lips. “You’re too good to ever be like them. You don’t hurt others just for the sake of hurting them. God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You're wonderful, I wish you believed that.” 

“I yelled at you though, just like they do all the time.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t yell at me, though. You were just upset about your parents.” 

You sighed, feeling the fight leave your body. His words echoed in your mind, but you weren’t sure if you believed them. The shattered remnants of your mother were still inside you, as with every daughter. It waded inside you, stirring the core of your stomach. 

“I wish I could just pack up and leave.” You said, leaning into his side. Darryl placed his arm over your shoulders, pressing you into the crook of his neck. You could smell the cologne on the collar of his coat, mint with rosemary. 

“You will, one day.” He promised, placing his chin on the top of your head. “I’ll be there with you, when you finally do.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait for one day, Darryl.” You said, the words carrying an unknown weight in your mouth. With each passing day, you felt your soul splinter more and more. 

Darryl must have sensed it, his fingers faintly dug into your arm, keeping you beside him. The threat of you suddenly up and disappearing was too close. 

“Hold on a bit longer, for me.” He pleaded, voice shaking. 

The warm night air ruffled the back of your hair, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe you were anywhere else. 

[kingofpopmj]

Won’t Go, Without Her I’d Go Crazy

Summary: Marriage is a big deal, but for Michael & Y/N, it was just that, a deal. Fed up with Michael’s behavior, Y/N decides to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader

Warning: FIGHTING, CURSING & SMUT

Requested: yes

Y/N found him pacing in his office after hearing the front door slam shut. The force behind it shook all the walls in the house. She’d never seen him this upset, but she knew he hated to be alone, so she cautiously followed the sound of his angry footsteps. He slammed his fists down into the wooden desk he stood in front of, then pushed everything off of it in one swift motion. He was cursing, complaining about something or someone. She couldn’t be sure.

“Michael?” The air was unwelcoming, but still she closed the space between them. She knew he rather be comforted than left alone with his thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m here.” The tips of her fingers made contact with his arm, slowly moving into him.

In that moment, the sound of her voice only reminded him of yet another mistake. He found something in his friend that he never thought he would. And, he screwed that up too. She’s in love with him and he knows it. He’s in deep, the gut wrenching feeling of her touch, the pain behind her stares are all around a bitter reminder of how much he fucked up. How much he hurt her. There’s no way he could fix what he’s done. Instead of protecting her, what they had— what they could’ve had, what they could’ve been, everything they could’ve built together. He chose to keep her close, but far enough to save himself from getting hurt. He protected himself. He chose to avoid accepting and admitting his own feelings. The very strong feelings that led him to her in the first place. The pain of rejection seemed inevitable and by the time he realized she’d never reject him, it was too late. He’d already went too far. There was no coming back.

He fucked everything up.

“You’re okay. I got you.” She said softly. The smooth skin of her hands caressing his face as she calmed him down. He felt his hands unclench and the tightness in his chest subsiding. As long as she’s here he’ll be good. “It’ll be okay babe.” Her voice was soothing, but that word sparked a deep hatred within himself. He doesn’t deserve that term of endearment.

“No!” His voice startled her, his arm shoving her away from him. The unexpected hostility caused her to fall backwards into a bookshelf. He squeezed his eyes shut, ashamed of what he’d just done. What’s wrong with him?

“Ow!” The pain in her voice was unmistakable. She shifted her weight to her knees as she tried to stand up. He didn’t miss how she rubbed the back of her head.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He mumbled. He didn’t want physically hurting her to be added to the long list of ways he had failed her. It’s wasn’t on purpose.

He never meant to hurt her. For some reason, when it involved her, he’d naturally become an expert at doing everything wrong.

“Michael, what’s happening?”

“None of your business!”

“Why are you yelling at me? You never—”

“Dammit Y/N! Shut up!” She flinched. Her feet found the ground and she leaned against the wall hoping it would give her the strength she couldn’t muster up herself. “What do you want from me! What the fuck do you want!”

She was trembling at this point. Staring back at him, but unable to look into his eyes. She thought that it would make things worse somehow.

“Answer the fucking question!” He roared.

“I was— I heard you. I just wanted to help. Y— you sounded really upset. I know you don’t like being alone—”

“Well, I don’t need your help! I don’t need you!” He thought if he yelled it loud enough it would be true. He thought if he said it often the spell she had him under would be broken. He thought.

“I was just trying to be a good—”

“A good what? Wife?”

“F— friend?” Her answer sounding more like a question. She was scared. She was stuttering, visibly struggling to understand him at the moment.

“I don’t need any of it from you! Fuck! When are you going to understand!”

“What?”

“You aren’t my wife! You’re a fucking mistake! A mistake I made a five years ago that I’m forced to look at everyday!”

“Michael—”

“You aren’t my wife! This was supposed to be a deal! A deal which you took too damn far! I never asked you to do all this and it sure as hell isn’t my fault you got your feelings involved!”

“I don’t—”

“I’m a lot of things Y/N, but stupid isn’t one of them! All I asked of you was to fill the role of wife in public, little did I know you’d become fucking insufferable in private. Shit! You fucking became everything I didn’t want or need! It’s pitiful watching you look after me like a devoted wife. You do and say what you think I’d approve of because in your tiny brain you’ve convinced yourself that would get me to fall for you! I. Will. Never. Fall. For. You. Ever! It’s a pathetic dream Y/N. A dream that’s never going to come true, do you hear me? You’ll never be anything to me! Life with you is like solitary fucking confinement. It’s the worst form of torture having to be your fake husband. The only thing keeping me from escaping you is that stupid fucking piece of paper!” The distance between them dissipated as he took steps towards her with each insult he threw. Now, he was inches away from her face, watching as each word he spewed broke her further. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Instead, she bit her bottom lip to keep from completely falling apart in front of him, she nodded her head as if to say she understood, then ran out of the room.

Y/N made it to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and collapsing onto her bed. She hugged the pillow tight as she tried to nurse her shattered heart. She felt humiliated. There’s no way she could ever face him again. He’s different, he’s been different for a while now.

She wish she’d never met him.

The sun was setting when her sorrow quickly evolved and anger took over. She’d done nothing wrong. He’s a damn fool. She became everything he asked her to be. She did everything he wanted. No questions asked.

This wasn’t her fault. She didn’t deserve this and there was no way in hell she was going to stay locked in this room all night feeling sorry for herself. She refused to be in the same house as him. The very thought of him disgusted her.

She hated him.

She sat up, reaching for the telephone and dialing a number with a smile on her face. Michael’s been living life, why shouldn’t she?

The conversation went just as expected, thankfully the man on the other end was not only free for the night, but desperate to see her again. It made her stomach do flips. She was about to spend time with a man and be treated as she deserved.

She quickly got ready, careful to make sure her outfit was perfect. Her black dress was sexy, but subtle. This was going to be a great night.

As Y/N reached the bottom of the steps she was met with one of the assistants Michael had hired to keep her company, so he didn’t have to. She smiled brightly as the woman looked taken aback by her appearance.

“Wow. Mrs. Jackson, you look beautiful. I didn’t know you two had plans tonight. Should I have a vehicle prepared? Your driver is on call.”

“Thank you. Please, call me Y/N. Yes, that would be perfect. I’ve got a reservation to make.”

“Will Mr. Jackson be down shortly?”

“It’s just me tonight.”

“Oh.” The woman said with an inquisitive tone.

“Some old friends of mine are in town, so it’ll be a girl’s night. It’s been a while, I’m so excited to see them.” Y/N lied, feeling both proud and surprised with how quickly she came up with a lie.

“Sounds fun! Enjoy your night.”

The ride to the restaurant hit her with a flood of emotions, she felt like she was doing something wrong. She hated that. She was so loyal to him and he couldn’t care less. She vowed to herself that tonight was that start of her finally letting him go. It was time to focus on what she needed instead of what Michael needed.

The house was dark and quiet in an eerie way. Michael felt lost. He couldn’t stop picturing the look in her eyes as he yelled at her. His words cut deep and he wanted nothing more but to tend to the wounds he had inflicted on her. What the hell came over him?

She must be in shambles.

Although, he was nervous to face her again he knew he had to. The idea of her crying in her room thinking everything he said to her was true just didn’t sit right with him. She had to know he didn’t truly think that. He was angry and for some reason he took it out on her.

He slowly turned the doorknob leading into her bedroom. The bedside light was on, television off and bed empty. There was a strange feeling in the air as he searched for her, nothing looked out of place, which confused him further. He ran around the house in a panic, checking every possible place he knew she enjoyed spending her time. She wasn’t anywhere. It’s too dark, so he knew she wouldn’t be outside. She didn’t go outside alone ever, she preferred having him with her, especially at night. He hopped down the stairs, heading towards the kitchen. She loved cooking, maybe she was in there taking out her frustrations. The kitchen was dark, empty and spotless. Where the hell is she?

He frantically called out for her assistant. He’d looked everywhere. She’s gone and something is wrong.

“It’s Y/N! I can’t find her! I think— something is wrong. I can feel it. Have you seen her today? Did she say anything—”

“I spoke with her about two hours ago Mr. Jackson. She seemed fine to me.” The woman gave him a strange look which he decided to ignore.

“Fine? Well, where is she?”

“She went out to dinner with some old girlfriends. She was driven there and the driver is waiting outside of the restaurant to bring her back. She’s safe. She said you knew.”

“Of course. Yes, I thought that was next week. Okay, that’s good. Good.” He calmed down for a moment after hearing she was okay. He lied to save himself the embarrassment of explaining why he was so desperate to find her.

“I’m happy to help. It’s sweet really, how much you care for her.” She turned to walk away when he spoke up again. He needed more than just knowing she was okay.

“I’ve been so busy. I’m mixing everything up. I’ve got to start writing stuff down.” He laughed, trying like hell not to lose his shit in front of the assistant. She smiled, offering to help him with creating a schedule for his personal events. “That’d be fantastic. Thank you.” He smiled before getting back to topic. “What restaurant did you say she was at?”

Michael walked into the dimly lit restaurant, scanning the faces until he saw her. He could never miss her. She’s beautiful, too beautiful to be just another face in the crowd. He stood tall, pushing his shoulders back and walking over to her. Whoever she was with was making her laugh and as much as he loved seeing her smile, he wasn’t crazy about some stranger bringing it out in her. When she coincidentally looked up, her eyes met his, her smile faded and was replaced with a look of dread. Michael smirked, sending her a playful wink.

“Oh my god.” He heard her say, her fingers on her temples as she attempted to calm herself down. “I’m so sorry.” She said to the person sat across from her.

“Y/N, baby, fancy meeting you here.” Michael smiled, sitting down next to her. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“This is Daniel. Daniel, this is Michael.” She gestured between the men apprehensively, unsure of Michael’s intentions.

“Ah, Daniel, the high school sweetheart. Wow. You sure know how to kick a guy when he’s down. I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you babe.” He nudged her softly with his elbow.

“What’s going on here?” Daniel asked.

“Oh you know, just some husband and wife fun, isn’t that right baby?” He smiled big, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her cheek hard. She’s his and he needed to make sure everyone knew it.

“Husband? Right, well— this isn’t what it looks—”

“Is there a reason you’re still here Dillion?” Michael stared the man down, tempted to drag him out of the establishment, but decided against considering there would be about a hundred witnesses.

“It’s Daniel.”

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Should I leave?” Daniel shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Y/N.

“N—”

“Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. And yes!” Michael interrupted. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Three is a crowd.” He reached over, knocking back Daniel’s drink, not sparing a second to question the contents of the glass.

“Look man, I’m not sure what’s—”

“David, I’m ten seconds away from breaking your fucking neck.”

“Michael!” Y/N scolded, she was surprised by his words and harsh tone, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious.

“It’s Daniel.”

“I still don’t give a shit.”

“Okay. Well, since I can’t talk to Y/N—”

“Don’t say her name.”

Daniel didn’t move, he sat there watching them with a confused look on his face. Poor idiot was too scared to do anything.

“You know what, you stay Dick. My lovely wife and I were just heading out. This was great. I look forward to never seeing you again.” He stood up pulling an incorporative Y/N along with him. He dragged her into a bathroom, shutting and locking the door. She immediately tried to leave so he blocked the door with his body, shaking his head at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” She spat at him, snatching her arm away from his grasp. “Don’t touch me!”

“Wow. You’d think a wife would be more excited to receive a surprise visit from her incredibly handsome husband.”

“Cut the sarcasm Michael. You aren’t my damn husband, not a real husband anyway, you’ve made that very clear.”

“Y/N—”

“What the fuck is your problem! You have some nerve waltzing in here and interrupting my date—”

“Date!”

“Oh, spare me. I’m a lot of things Michael, but stupid isn’t one of them!” She spat his words back at him through clenched teeth, her delicate hands balled up into fists and colliding with his chest as she unleashed her pain onto him. “You think I don’t know! You think I’m that naive! I know exactly what you’re up to when you vanish for hours or even days at a time. You’ve done nothing but disrespect and make a fool of me since the moment we said ‘I do’. I wasted years, YEARS! Waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and see me! Really see me, because I’m a damn good catch and you’ve been fucking blessed to have me, even if it is as a pretend wife! I at least thought we had a friendship, but I guess I was wrong. You really know how to play up the kind, gentlemen act, unfortunately you aren’t actually capable of being genuine! I don’t know who the fuck you are and you know what? I don’t care! This is not relationship of any sort. This is nothing. I’ve never been anything more to you than a positive headline, so don’t act like you give a shit now. You don’t care and it’s impossible to grow a conscience in a fucking hour.”

“I do give a shit!”

“Bullshit!”

“When I say something I fucking mean it!”

“Whatever Michael.”

“Baby, I don’t appreciate being called a liar.”

“Stop calling me that. And, you are a liar jackass!”

“I’m not a liar! You’re being—”

“Did you really just say that with a straight face? You’re a damn adulterer! You don’t fucking care about me!”

“I fucking care!”

“Yeah, about yourself! And only yourself! You don’t give a shit about anyone, but yourself! You selfish son of a bit—”

“I give a shit.” He moved closer to her, pushing her against the wall with his chest.

“Sure you do fake husband.” She rolled her eyes, patting him on the shoulder, before attempting to push past him again. He didn’t budge. “Michael, what the fuck? Let me go!”

“I’m not letting you go.”

“You’re not— this is insane. Do you hear yourself? What the fuck is up with you today? Michael move! Get off of me!”

“You’re my wife—”

“Fake wife.”

“Stop fucking saying that!”

“You started it asshole!” He couldn’t take it anymore. He knew she wouldn’t stop fighting him and there weren’t many ways to shut her up once she got started. “What even is this? You’re mad because I went out for once instead of staying at home like some pathetic housewife? Seriously, this is quite the double standard, don’t you think man whore? You’ve been fucking everything with a pulse for three years! I go on one date and you have a fucking bitch fit! You think just because—”

He held her chin in his hand, leaning down to capture her lips. She was speechless as his other hand snaked around her waist, holding her body firmly against his.

The way he kissed her was something she’d never felt before. Her anger was replaced with confusion and her brain grew foggy. She couldn’t think straight, even struggling to stand on her own as her knees grew weak from his touch.

“W— What the hell was that?” She questioned, trying to move away from him, but once again he held her. Finally, Y/N stopped fighting his grasp and looked back at him. She felt her body tingle under his stare.

“You’re my wife.” He whispered. “The date is over. I’m taking you home now.”

“Okay.” She said breathlessly, the entire exchange left her baffled.

He held her hand as the exited the restaurant, when the reached the vehicle, he waved off the driver, opening the door for her instead.

“Thanks.” She gave him a soft smile, sliding across the leather seats to leave the space open beside her, which he gladly took.

“I’d like for things to change between us.” He spoke softly as the vehicle moved. “We have a few things to discuss, but I want things to change.” He reached out for her hand, squeezing it gently. “For the better of course.”

When they arrived home, Michael led her out of the car and into the house. He kept a firm grip on her hand, turning around to give her a reassuring smile every few seconds. Finally, they reached their destination, Michael’s bedroom, although now, he was emphasizing that it would be their bedroom.

They sat close to one another on the edge of the bed, both trying to figure out what to say next. He held her hand in both of his, he couldn’t stop reaching out to touch her. A gesture which made her smile, she’d missed this, this was how he was the first year of their marriage. It just felt right.

“Okay, I’m not quite sure where to start.” His voice was soft, but not afraid. He was growing more confident with her by his side.

“Give it your best shot.” She smiled at him. He felt all the guilt and self pity lifted off his shoulders in that moment. She’s here. She’s smiling at him and the look in her eyes tells him there’s hope.

“I don’t want to do what we’ve been doing. It’s not right. This point forward we— I want this to be real. It was always supposed to be real, but I turned my back on you. It wasn’t fair to you. It went against everything in me to treat you that way. I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to disappear on you anymore.”

“Why? What brought this on?”

“I’ve always wanted it. I was just scared to say it. It’s not easy putting your heart in someone’s hands and hoping they protect it.”

“Tell me about it.” She muttered.

“I’m sorry. I know— I know I haven’t been the best husband—”

“You haven’t been a husband Michael.” She interrupted sadly.

“Yes, you’re right and I want to change it. I know we’re good together. I know because the feeling of you being the one is so damn strong. It scared me a few years ago, but now it doesn’t scare me. I’m not afraid. You’re who I want to be with.”

“Why?”

“Because—” a knock on the door interrupted his explanation. “Hold on. Sorry.” He jogged over to the door, opening it to reveal one of the many women he’s been using to entertain himself throughout their union.

“Great.” Y/N huffed, wiping away the tears falling from her eyes. Michael stepped out, closing the door behind him. That was it. That was the final straw.

She composed herself, standing up and walking off to her room. She didn’t bother seeing where they went, she knew better. She grabbed what she could, shoving things in bags and carrying them downstairs. She was fuming, throwing her belongings in the trunk of their vehicle before slamming it shut.

“I want things to change. For the better of course.” She mimicked Michael’s voice angrily, walking up the stairs to retrieve the rest of her clothes. “Asshole.” She stopped in front of the vanity. Her eyes fell on their wedding picture, with a flick of her wrist she launched it off the small piece of furniture. “I don’t want to disappear on you anymore.” She stared at the broken glass, trembling as she remembered that day. How happy she was. How happy they were. She thought that day was the beginning of the rest of their lives. “You’re such a fucking liar.” She cried as Michael’s face crossed her mind.

There was nothing to do other than get away from him. It was her only option. This was her only opportunity to do it quick as painless as possible and she had to take it.

“Y/N, there you are. Wait, w— what are you doing?” Michael practically ran into her room and found everything he’d been trying to stop from happening.

“I’m leaving. I want a divorce.”

“N—no. No. ” He moved towards her, the sound of broken glass under his shoes, halting his movements. “You broke this? It’s our wedding photo. What the fuck! Why would you do that?”

“Because you broke my heart!” She yelled, her finger in the air pointing at him with such anger it hurt his heart to see what he’d caused.

“Y/N—” every step he took to get closer to her was met with her stepping away, creating more distance between them.

“All you do is lie to me.” She cried, turning away to throw more of her stuff in bags.

“I don’t lie to you! I didn’t lie!”

“Yes, you did!”

“Dammit! Is this what you want? To argue? Do you want to break more shit? I can do it too!” He ran over to his bedroom, grabbing the vase off of his dresser then kicking it over. His fingers turned red from how hard he was clutching this damn vase. This damn vase that meant more to him than he cared to admit. Something had come over him. When he found himself back in the doorway of her room and she was still packing. He lost it. He threw the vase against the wall. The loud sound of the shattering glass caused them both to flinch.

“That was a gift! I gave that to you!” She cried.

“I thought we were breaking things we hate.” He shrugged, leaning against the wall.

“I never said I hated— you know what? Fine!” She spun around, walking over to the window and lifting it open. She yanked the rings off her finger, smiling at him sarcastically. Michael’s face scrunched up when he realized what was happening.

“Y/N! No! Put them back on!” He ran over to her, grabbing her from behind, trying to pull her away from the window. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Don’t do what? This!” It happened so fast. She’d launched them out of the second story window without a second thought.

“What the fuck! What’s wrong with you! Why the fuck would you do that! You know how impossible it’s going to be to find those!”

“Never said I wanted them back.”

“Well you’re getting them back! And, you’re going to fucking wear them!”

“No, I’m not!”

“I can’t believe this. What’s gotten into you?”

“What! You’re the only one around here allowed to do whatever you want, whenever you want!”

“Can we just fucking talk!” He pleaded, this was getting way out of hand.

“Oh, now he wants to talk.” She yelled, throwing her arms in the air with a vicious chuckle.

“Y/N, I want to fix this! We were so close a few moments ago, what happened? What did I do? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong he asks?”

“Are we really doing the third person shit?”

“You know what! Fuck this! It’s fucking bullshit! I don’t have to deal with this anymore! You don’t get to hurt my heart. You don’t deserve me. You don’t even deserve to be near me! You don’t fucking deserve me! You never have and you never will!”

She stormed off without waiting for a response. The closet light flipped on and she immediately started tearing items off of hangers.

“Y/N!”

“Leave me alone!”

“No! Why are you packing? Stop!” He yelled snatching the suitcase away from her.

“I’m leaving you!”

“No! I don’t want you to leave!”

“Good thing I don’t give a shit what you want!”

“Stop!” He grabbed her wrists holding onto her, it felt like he needed to in order to keep everything together. He needed to hold on. “You can’t leave. We can fix this. I thought we agreed we both wanted to fix this?” She was squirming away from him flailing her arms to escape his tight grip, but he held on. He felt every push, kick and slap. He took it all because it meant she was still there. And, if she was this angry, he knew it was all an act, she loved him more than she could ever hate him. She’s angry because she didn’t want to leave him, but after what he’s done she thought it was her only choice to save what dignity she had left.

“I hate you!” She was crying hard and her fight against him began to die down. She was exhausted.

“No, you don’t. You don’t hate me.” He placed his hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away with his thumb. She found herself soaking in the moment, leaning into his touch before she caught herself, backing away from his touch and shaking her head at him.

“Why don’t you go back to your little girlfriend. Let me get out of here and far the fuck away from you.”

He was shocked. He’d never heard her speak that way. He knew she would cry often, but he’d never seen it with his own eyes, so he acted like it didn’t happen. Shit. He really messed up. This woman standing in front of him had endured his bullshit for so long. He destroyed her. She was sobbing her eyes out, struggling to breathe and he couldn’t think of anyway to bring her comfort.

“S— She wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t invite— I don’t know why she showed up, but she’s gone. Okay? I led her straight out the door. She’s nothing to me. I promise, you’ll never see her again. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her.”

“That’s a great story Michael. I like the part where just this once you didn’t fuck her while I was in the next room.”

“Y/N.” He said her name like a prayer.

“Michael.” She shot back.

“You’re being unreasonable!” He shouted, that stopped her and she turned around to face him. A coldness filled her stare.

“Unreasonable? Are you fucking insane! I’ve been the most reasonable and understanding person ever! You aren’t that easy to deal with Michael! In fact, you’re a pain in the ass! I’ve done so much for you, you fucking prick! I hate about 98% of the shit I’ve had to while married to you and—”

“No one asked you to!”

“You did! You asked me to! And, you know what, I would’ve said no back then if I knew this was the real you. This fucking ass—”

“Enlighten me Y/N! Lay it on me baby! What’s the real me? You know me so fucking well now?”

“You enjoy hurting people. You loved how I took care of you. You loved how I filled this ‘wife role’. You watched me fall in love with you and you enjoyed every second of it. It brought you so much joy to see how I looked at you like you were everything all the while treating me like I was nothing. God forbid the great Michael Jackson let his guard down and love someone. You’re a scared little boy, too scared to own the fact that I’m not the only one who lost herself in this deal. It didn’t even take a year for you to start pulling away, you caught yourself feeling something more and you weren’t man enough to own it so you shut me out. Then, you turned into this complete asshole who did whatever brought me the most pain. You enjoyed being able to break me over and over again, yet keep me here, tied to you. You effectively trapped me and you loved having the power to do so because at least no one else could have me.”

“You’re such a bitch!” The truth behind her words definitely struck a cord in him. He hated how she saw everything. He loathed how she could see right through him. He wasn’t prepared for her to throw that all at him. He was expecting another snarky come back not to be hit with the truth.

“I guess that’s one thing I could say I learned from you.”

Y/N pushed past him, dragging suitcases behind her. When she reached the stairs, he could hear the wheels smacking each step as she moved further away from him. The sound was driving him crazy.

“Fuck!” He shouted, punching the wall in front of him. It only pissed him off more when it did nothing to ease his rage. Now, he had more pain, radiating from his hand, yet it didn’t compare to the heaviness in his chest.

He wanted to punch holes into the walls until his knuckles were bloody.

The sound of the garage door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He’s couldn’t process the idea of not seeing her everyday. He ran after her, practically flying down the stairs. When he flung the garage door open, she’d just slam the drivers door, starting the vehicle and he did the first thing he could think of.

He punched the button to close the automatic garage door leading to the driveway and jumped on the hood of the car. It scared the shit out of her, but successfully kept her from driving off.

“Get the fuck off the car! Are you crazy?”

“No! You’re crazy if you think I’m going to sit back and watch you leave!” He clutched the windshield wiper as he stared her down through the glass.

“Dammit!” She shut the car off, pushing the door open and kicking her feet out. She stood there raking her hands through her hair and kicked the door shut. “Fuck!” She didn’t look at him, taking small steps that led her to the front of the vehicle. Finally, she spoke. “What do you want from me Michael? Do you want me to sign an NDA? Sign over my rights? What? I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to get away from you.” She crossed her arms, her words felt forced, but he knew she meant them on some level. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. He understood that.

“You.” He slid off the hood, taking cautious steps towards her.

“What?”

“I want you. I want to be your husband. I want to make up for all the shit I put you through all these years. I want to be what you deserve. I want you.”

“Michael, you’ve spent the entire day telling me how much I’ve ruined your life. You don’t want me, not really, not the way I want you. I don’t want to be crushed anymore. I can’t take it. Please, just let me go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t just want you, Y/N, I need you. We can do this the right way. I can— I want to be your husband. I need you, dammit doesn’t that mean enough? I’ve never needed anyone.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” She whispered. “How am I— how are we going to that, be husband and wife? Michael, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Do I need to get on my knees and beg you to stay? Because I will. Y/N, I’ll beg.”

“No, you don’t. I— I’m just trying to understand. Michael, help me understand.”

“Baby, please.” He sank down to the floor, looking up at her. She shook her head and attempted to pull him up from the ground, but he continued. He wrapped his arms around her hips, his face resting on her stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. I don’t want to be without you. Please, one more chance. It’s all I’ll ever ask of you. I’ll never fuck up again. Please. Y/N, just one more chance— one more chance to love you— to love you the way I should’ve from the start.”

“One more chance to love me?”

“You asked me why I wanted this earlier and I didn’t get to answer.” His stood up, holding her hands in his. She closed her eyes, leaning her head on his chest. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Y/N lifted her head, staring at him as if to call his bluff, but he didn’t back down. He walked her backwards, pinning her against the car and sliding her backward to sit on the hood. His fingers moved up her thighs, spreading her legs only to move himself closer and fill the space. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he grabbed the fabric hanging off her body, tearing the slit of her dress higher and ripping her panties in the process. Her eyes followed his hands as he moved to unzip his trousers.

“Woah, what are—” he grew impatient, unable to fight the urge any longer. He was aching for her. His lips desperate to touch every part of her. He wanted to feel her, but more than anything he wanted her to feel something other than anger or pain. He wanted her to stop thinking so much. He wanted her to feel how much he wanted her. And, he wanted her in every damn way possible.

Her lips were made to be against his, her body meant for his hands, every piece of her created to be his. He just needed to remind her of it.

“You’re my wife and I love you.” Looking deep into each others eyes, her legs spreading further as he moved into them. She whimpered when he stood still, he was completely immersed in her, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy his need.

“Move. Please, move.”

“Oh. My. Fuck.” His grunts growing louder as their connection strengthened. She was so tight, so wet. It felt like his dick had died and went to heaven. Holy shit. His mind was all over the place, completely overwhelmed by the sensation of thrusting into her raw. He thought all sex was good, but this, this was indescribable.

The ultimate act of intimacy. No barriers. No limits.

His hips moved against hers and he smiled when her eyes closed. She leaned back onto the hood, savoring how he felt. Michael on the other hand was relishing in how perfect she looked beneath him.

“Michael— stop.” She whispered so low, she wanted this, her body gave into him instantly, but that small ounce of pride left behind was conflicted. She didn’t want to give in so easily, but she wanted him so bad. There was no strength left to fight him, especially when having him inside of her was the first time she’d ever felt whole.

He scanned her features, understanding her uncertainty and desperate to spend his life proving to her how safe she was with him. She couldn’t give up on him yet. He wouldn’t allow it, not without fighting like hell for her.

“You really want me to stop?” He asked. “Just say the word babe and I’ll let you go.” His breath tickled her ear as he leaned his forehead on her shoulder. “I’ll put you first like should’ve from the beginning. I’ll give you what you want and if that’s what you want. I’ll let you go.” He said, swallowing the pain that came with the thought of her actually leaving.

“Don’t.” She opened her eyes, lifting his head up, so she could see his face. If he let her go she’d never recover. She needed him in every damn way imaginable.

“You feel better than I dreamt you would.” He said, placing a tender kiss against her lips. She wrapped her leg around him, tugging his shirt open, her hands roaming his chest eagerly.

“You like the way I feel, love?” She licked her lips, tracing the skin of his pecks. “But, you haven’t even explored yet.” She slid the strap of her dress down exposing herself to him.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Show me what you dreamt about. Do it all to me. Michael, do everything to me.”

“Fuck!” His growl echoing through the room. Her hands stuck to his ass, finger nails piercing his skin as she pulled him deeper into her. The beads of sweat forming on his forehead only fueling her desire.

“Shit. Michael!” He could feel her walls vibrating, so he slowed down his movements enough to elongate her buildup.

“You ever going to sneak out the house again?” He purred, his voice falling into the skin of her neck as he nibbled on her. All she did was shake her head, squeezing his arms in attempt to adjust to his pace. “Tell me where you want to be.”

“H—here.” She answered, shivering when his hand traced her skin to rest on her collarbone, keeping her in place as he lost himself in her pussy.

“You sure? You don’t want to be with— what was his name, Dillion— Derek — Dick?” She shook her head vigorously at his question. Her hips buckling against his before he quickly grabbed and pushed her down into the metal of the car. She let out a needy moan as her bare ass pressed against the cold surface. “Why the sudden change of heart?” His hands cupping her breasts as he awaited her answer.

“I don’t want him.”

“Who do you want?” His thumbs massaging circles around her nipples while he watched her loosen up with his every move.

“You. I want to be with you.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to be here.”

“Good.”

A trail of their discarded clothing on the garage floor led to an open door. The sounds of their moans and the shaking vehicle the only thing that warned possible bystanders that the space was occupied.

“Michael!” Her fingernails clawed at the carpeted floor of the stretch limousine as her beloved husband panted above her.

Each of his movements had purpose. One hand placed beside her head, the other clenching her thigh as he let his dick touch every part of her he’d been yearning to explore.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He breathlessly spoke, reminding her that she was his.

He was intrigued when she guided him to lay next to her, climbing on top of him with a flirtatious smile. He’d never experienced this, fighting against the need to blink because he didn’t want to miss a second of her. Fuck. She’s on top of him and her tits are bouncing along with the rhythm of her thrusts. He was sure he’d cum inside of her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She let out a pleasure filled sob when she felt the warmth of his load release into her.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” She sung, leaving kisses all over his body.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.” He inhaled deep, catching her chin and directing her to his lips. She wasted no time letting her tongue glide across his bottom lip.

“Good.” She teased, his hand trailed down her arm, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers.

He couldn’t remember ever falling asleep next to someone, especially after sex. This time it wasn’t just sex. He figured that was the difference, this time mattered. This time it was making love and that was a first for him.

Last night had importance, every other night was forgettable. An endless amount of nights spent meaninglessly with numerous blurred faces, because he only ever saw hers.

It was always her.

Her face was engraved on the inside of his damn eyelids. He pictured her with every kiss, touch and fuck, because back then he thought that was her hold on him. He’d never been with her, so he assumed that’s all it was, curiosity of the forbidden fruit so to speak.

He could feel deep down it was more than just a craving of what he’d had yet to taste. He was just too chicken shit to do anything about it.

The morning after was always something he hated the thought of, he had grown accustomed to having his fun and sending them on their way. He liked it that way. He didn’t need anyone hanging around and he definitely didn’t need a body sleeping next to him. He’d never experienced the morning after, he never wanted to, until now.

He woke up next to her and that in itself made the morning after his new favorite occasion.

If it wasn’t for the smooth skin of her beautiful bare chest pressed against his side he would’ve thought last night was a dream. A very extensive, meticulous, loud and exceedingly satisfying dream.

He didn’t care how uncomfortable the floor of this limousine was, he was happy to stay right here if it meant she’d be here too. The way he saw it this was his new favorite place in the world. It brought them where they needed to be. He didn’t even mind the rug burn on his ass, watching Y/N ride him made up for that. She was rough, but damn did she know what she was doing.

Last night, they unleashed everything they’d held back for five years.

He felt her move, her eyes closed as she readjusted her head to rest in the middle of his chest, the smooth skin of her cheek tickling his peck and her body now positioned in between his legs. He stroked her hair, smiling because even in her sleep she wanted him closer. It took him back to the first and last time they fell asleep together. It was a few months into their marriage, when they had been inseparable. They had built a makeshift bed out of pillows on the Neverland theater floor. A mountain of candy, buckets of popcorn and a soda fountain to save them from any unnecessary interruptions. The plan was to have an all night movie marathon, but they found deeper enjoyment in one another’s company. That was the only time his body had been sore from laughing so much. He’d felt more like himself with her than he ever had before.

He couldn’t describe it back then. It was beyond his understanding five years ago, he didn’t know what he does now.

“Mornin’ babe.” His husky morning voice sounded as she lifted her head looking at him through sleepy eyes.

“Hi.” She giggled, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

That’s when it clicked. He finally understood.

“I like waking up next to you.”

“I like waking up on top of you.” Her lips connected with his neck and he moaned softly melting into her touch.

He’d come to the conclusion that they were connected long before they met.

It was something deep in their souls.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Wow. A surprise? Lucky me.” She played with his hair. “You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Mhm. I’m guessing last night was your way of making me earn it?”

“No. That was my way of making love to my wife. My very sexy wife. Who is very flexible, that was a fun surprise.”

“It’s not my fault you’re just finding that out.” She winked at him, kicking her feet in the air innocently.

“Stop that. Don’t start. Baby, I’ll break your damn hip if you keeping looking at me like that.”

“Make me stop. Show me my surprise.”

“Of course, all you have to do is follow me my little gymnast.” He sat up uncovering himself with the thin blanket he’d found under the backseat last night. He wrapped it around her. “Wait here. I’ll get our clothes.” He stretched as he stepped out of the vehicle, he didn’t bother covering himself, he was too proud of what led him to being in this state.

If there was even the slightest chance they’d have any witnesses he preferred to be seen in all his glory.

He fought to conceal his chuckle as he collected her clothes off the ground just to let them slip through his fingers. It didn’t take much inspection to see that everything she had on last night wasn’t in a condition to be worn again, he’d torn it all to shreds. He stepped into his pants, pulling them up his legs and buttoning them before retrieving his long sleeve button up shirt from the floor. This will do. She’ll look good in this. Really good.

She stepped out wrapped in the blanket, just as he was heading back to her.

“Sorry. You were taking long and I missed you.” She batted her eyes at him, pushing her hair out of her face and tiptoeing over to him. All he could do was look at her, making a mental note of the dimple in her cheek that only appeared when she smiled at him like that.

“Here. We’ve got to cover you up. From now on, this is for my eyes only, got it?” She moved close to him, leaning against his chest as she slid the blanket off of her shoulders and onto his. She clutched the ends of the fabric, pulling him down to her eye level, hovering over his lips for a moment before placing a soft kiss. He passed her his shirt, letting the knuckles of his fingers brush against her breast and admiring the goosebumps his touch sparked.

“Feeling a smidge possessive are we?” He teased, watching her button up his shirt. His eyes lingering on the space where his shirt ended and her upper thigh began.

“Something like that.”

“I nearly killed a man last night because he made you smile. Trust me, I get it babe.”

“You were an absolute menace. Who knew?”

“I guess the thought of losing you brought it out in me.”

“Michael, I’m—”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Let’s not apologize anymore. This is our fresh start. Okay?”

He smiled, nodding at her statement. “I love you.”

“That’s something I’m gonna have to get used to hearing.”

“Well, looks like I have to say it more often.”

“Good plan, Mr. Jackson.”

“I love you, Mrs. Jackson. Damn, I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

“I’m gonna tear this shirt off of you.”

“Is that the surprise?”

“No. Come on. I’ll give you your surprise and then back to the exploring.” He winked, slipping his hand under the shirt to squeeze her ass.

“Promise?”

“Oh, yes. I don’t break my promises either baby.”

His arm curled around her back, keeping her close as they walked through the grass. He swiftly moved behind he covering her eyes with his hands and bending down to whisper in her ear.

“We’re almost there.”

“Please don’t let me fall.” She giggled, her hands reaching behind to settle on his thighs.

“Never.” A sweet kiss to her cheek. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Y/N opened her eyes, she saw newly built stables. “Michael, when did you— how?”

“They’ve been working on it for a few months. It was tough to keep it from you.”

“This is so sweet. Thank you.”

“Baby, this isn’t even the surprise.” He tilted his head up at her, a cocky grin on his face.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” She beamed, his squeezed her hand, pulling her through the large door.

“Now, you’ll have two things to ride.” His chuckle, making her cheeks burn.

There was a beautiful white horse waiting inside. Absolutely the most beautiful animal she’d ever seen in person.

“Only you could make a surprise as amazing as this embarrassing!” She walked over, placing her hand on its nose through the gate. “Wow. He’s gorgeous. I can’t believe you did this. Thank you so much.”

“Baby, there’s no reason at all to be embarrassed. You should be proud. You rocked my damn world.”

“Shush!”

“What? It’s true! I’m still tingling. My wife is an absolute legend in—”

“Michael!” Her laughter filled his ears and it was quickly becoming his favorite sound.

“Y/N. My Y/N.”

“Yes. Yours.” She reaffirmed his words, making his heart feel whole.

“We could name him miracle.”

“Why, because it’s a miracle I’ve put up with you this long?”

“Something like that.”

They had a matching passion in their eyes, one that personified the profound bond they shared. Entranced in an amorous stare, a thought crossed their minds simultaneously. One that brought on a great deal of emotion and understanding. They’d come to the conclusion that they had stumbled upon everything that most people spend their entire lives searching for.

There was something linking them, the energy of it overpowering at times, but so damn worth it. They had no control, it was something within.

Their souls were tied.

[helloaugustmoon]

the girl (me) is (most certainly) [his]

warning: mildly suggestive but nothing too explicit

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[The Girl Is Mine] ! ˊ

It isn’t unusual for Michael to wake up to the sound of his own music playing; he’d find it frustrating if it didn’t stem from your sincere adoration for him that simply cannot be contained. How could you be the love of his life without being his biggest fan, by default? Hearing the familiar tune playing all the way from the radio in the main kitchen, Michael can’t help chuckling softly, turning to press his face into your pillow, taking a moment to breathe you in before he can bring himself to rise from the bed you share. Your absence from said bed will most definitely warrant at least one pout that you will have to kiss off of his face at some point today, by the way.

Stepping into a loose fitting pair of silk pajamas, Michael uses one hand to begin buttoning up the shirt as he leaves the bedroom and follows the sound of his own song through the mansion the two of you call home, until he finds you in the kitchen. It seems you’ve once again sent the kitchen staff to the pool for the morning, in favor of preparing breakfast yourself. Michael leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest with a fond smile that quickly turns to one of flirtation, watching the way your hips sway in time with the song. Standing at the stove with your back to him, you are blissfully unaware of his presence, and his gaze on you as you dance around, but this is his most treasured view of you; one of his shirts draped over your seductive frame, dancing around without a care in the world, lost to your love for him while not even realizing he’s right here with you.

Very slowly, Michael walks up behind you, his large hands finding your hips through the fabric of his shirt against your skin, causing you to gasp in surprise. His hips fall into an effortless rhythm with yours, swaying side to side, and he hums the melody into the side of your neck.

“That she’s my girl, forever and ever…” Michael sings softly into your ear, harmonizing with himself on the record.

You can’t help giggling like a schoolgirl, his voice always melting you beyond belief.

“Good morning, baby.” He smiles, leaving the lightest kiss on the side of your neck as he continues to sway his hips with yours.

“Morning, angel face. Did you sleep well?” You ask gently, smiling over your shoulder at him.

“Mm, dreamt of you, like always. Never comes close to the real thing.” Michael murmurs into your shoulder, large hands squeezing your hips. “How did you sleep, pretty girl?”

You sigh with an unmistakable swoon, leaning your back against his chest as you continue cooking. “I slept well, yeah; I’d have stayed in your arms if I hadn’t been close to starving to death.”

That has Michael laughing.

“Oh? Wasting away beside me, were you? My poor love!” He teases.

“The situation was dire.” You answer in a feigned serious tone, oozing dramatics that he knows all too well.

“Hmm, I can think of a situation that’s far more dire.” Michael’s lips trail the side of your neck, his hips pressing against yours just a touch more from where he stands behind you, still swaying to the music.

Your eyes widen. Before you know it, you’re breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Here I am, preparing a lovely breakfast for you-“ It’s a far from serious sentiment, but you are cut off regardless.

“That I am ever so grateful for.” Michael interjects playfully.

You scoff at him. “Then how can you suggest we waste it?” You ask him with a raised eyebrow, peering up at him from where your back is pressed to his chest.

“Never waste it, baby, just…postpone it. We can eat this later, and it’ll be just as delicious, I’ll bet. Right now, I’m hungry for something very different.” Michael teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“And what’s that?” You ask with a deliberate tone of innocence, but the breathlessness in your voice gives way to your true feelings on the matter, causing him to smirk against your skin.

“A girl who happens to be mine.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and no sooner are the words uttered than he’s swung you up and into his arms bridal style, carrying you back up to your bedroom. Which, much to your shared relief, is an entire floor, lest there be enough noise to travel through a wall or two.

At the pool, the kitchen staff begin exchanging petty cash and rolls of their eyes, overhearing your squeals of delight and Michael’s laughter, and heading inside to continue cooking the breakfast they had bet you wouldn’t be able to finish before you were whisked away by your man.

[alwaysformike]

ִֶָ𓏲࣪ 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒🫐༉‧

when a nosy and hateful interviewer attempts to woe michael by tearing you, his fiance, down, he must show her that you are not to be tested.

chat i'm cooked this is my first michael ff 😔💪 i actually hate this tho 😓

jk in all seriousness heyyy pyt, how u doin love? content warnings : fingering, public and risky sex (ish?), suggestive content, bitchy interviewers, michael being TOOO FINEEEE

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆. it filled the room, worming the void of sound into every inch of the space. you sigh, desperate for someone to speak, for someone to fill the emptiness.

of course, it was your choice to come with michael to his interview. but, in your defense, this one was definitely different! it wasn't like you had never been to one with him before, but this one seemed to have something tense in the air.

michael, your fiancé, was hunched over a table. his hand ghosts the paper, signing off on which questions he allows to be asked. if it wasn't for the unyielding stare on you, you may have stayed like that for the rest of the night. just simply observing your love.

you look up, eyes darting around. they land on your starer, a lady. a clipboard in her hands, she is glaring at you. your eyes crinkle in confusion. her lips quirk up into a seductive smirk as her green, cat-lined orbs dart to michael.

it is then, you realize, that she is trying to say what her mouth will not. you attempt to wave this off by raising a arched brow and looking her up and down. she snickers to herself coldly. michael looks up, wandering what the noise is but she has already gone back to writing on her clipboard. the two of you make eye contact, and you shrug at him.

something was off with this woman.

you try to understand, perhaps she was just simply a fan.

but in the deepest corner of your mind, you can't unsee the way her lips turned up into a cruel smile. the way she seemingly mocked you, glowered at you.

the interview has started. you only came, thinking you'd be off to the side to watch. but the lady from earlier, ( sofia, as you've learned ) insists that you join. michael argues her suggestion at first, but when you see her taunting grin, you can't help but agree.

you stare at her, eyes daring for her to try something.

she clears her throat. you can tell she's up to something. her introduction is long-since over and she's ready to ask questions. "michael, i've seen you've brought your lovely fiancée here with you today. so, how did you two meet?" she exaggerates the word 'lovely', eyes batting at michael much more sweetly than they were to you.

he launches into the story of how you two met, specifically at the 1984 grammy awards. its a long story, one he's told far too mant times. you zone out, hands fiddling with your lacy skirt. your squint your eyes, desperately observing sofia. you try to make out her face as she smiles fondly at michael.

"right, love?" he asks you. you're too busy watching how sofia's face changes, how her eyes go dreamy and then snap back to a startling glower at you.

"huh?" you realize he had been speaking to you. "oh right! um. what was the question again?" you smile shyly. he grins, his eyes going up.

"anyways, back to you, mr michael." the interviewer points out. "if you could change one thing about her, what would that be?"

oh.

it finaly clicks what she's doing. you gawk at her in disbelief and then pull your face back disgustingly. lucky for you, michael is not stupid. he sees the pointed looks sofia has thrown to you, sees the puzzling looks you throw back.

all hell would break loose if he wasn't being filmed right now. quickly thinking, he points out how far you are from him. "little one, come closer. you're so far." he scoots your chair closer to his, throwing a small smirk at sofia. "back to the question, nothing. absolutely nothing."

you blush slightly and look back towards your snarky interviewer. her face has flushed red in embarrassment, her plan seemingly backfiring. "of course, mr jackson." his hand wanders to the small in your back, gently rubbing.

you are glad the table is there to cover the way your hands fiddle in your lap, attempting to wave off his affection. she continues on with her insufferable questions, each one meant for michael himself. she never seems to pay much mind to you, until her gaze is steady on you.

michael has moved his hand down to your hip, and you can tell sofia has began watching his actions towards you. this time, it is you who is smirking.

"mr. jackson, as much as we all adore the happy couple, may i suggest we leave affection for the bedroom?" she chuckles, thinking she must've cracked him up with the way his lips turn up into a smile.

what she misses, however, is the cheshire appearance to it.

"thank you for that lovely advice, however i think i'm more than welcome to touch my fiancée." his hand is lowering, and you gulp.

"well yes, mr. jackson. just simply a recommendation." she tries to play it off with a bat of her eyelashes, grinning seductively at him.

you feel heat rush to your face and something has snapped. "we only take recommendations from people that actually matter to us, thank you."

the room is silent, her face flushing up once more with embarrassment. michael, whose wandering hand is now on your thigh, squeezes tightly.

"of course." she mumbles, trying desperately to hide the roll of her eyes.

she continues on with her questions, never once addressing you or even looking your way. you resist the urge to grin with pride.

the hand on your thigh is moving downwards, and you are glad the table is there to hide it. he's hiking your mini-skirt up, hand sliding between your legs. the heat, once in your cheeks, is now in your stomach.

your teeth tug at your lip, desperately attempting to hide the up-coming whimpers and pleas.

you heard it here folks, michael jackson was an utter tease!

his hand gently rubbed your inner thigh, just mere centimeters from where you needed him most. though he nodded along to the questions and answered when necessary, you could see his mind was elsewhere.

your eyes float back over to sofia, and you hear her throw another quip to you, a small one that would typically go unnoticed, but you caught it.

you always did.

but you resist the urge for gasp when his slender fingers finally make contact with your clit, rubbing slow and painful circles. you look up, your eyes watching how he's smirking knowingly.

oh, so he knows what he's doing.

you want so desperately to whine and beg for him, but he knows you all too well. he looks down at you, eyes meeting yours and presses his fingers into your clit.

all in once, hes pinching and rubbing your clit. massaging it in fast circles that seemed to never end.

you were close and he had barely even touched you yet. then his fingers were pushed inside, going in and out at a rate faster than you could comprehend. you were sure someone would notice soon, and bit your lip as you tried to push his hand away discreetly.

he simply pulled his fingers out and slapped your hand away. then he was back in, going faster and deeper than before. moans threatened to escape at any given point.

and then it happened, the coil in your tummy breaks and you're letting go. juices seep over his hands. he grins wildly, playing it off as though he was laughing at one of her jokes.

but her eyes look over to you, brows furrowing in confusion. you reach over, simply knocking her clipboard off the table.

"oops," you shrug. she leans down under the table to grab it, and looks up. his finger is still in your puffy pussy, hand dripping in your aroma.

she come back up, her face twisted in anger. this time, it is you who smiles sweetly at her with batting eyelashes.

that is how the rest of the interview goes. her glaring at you both now, not just you. michael catches on, a smile dancing on his lips the entire time.

the interview is over. she's cut it short. whether because she was too angry to continue talking, or because she looked as though she may faint.

the three of you stand up. "thank you so much for coming, you two. it was definitely a pleasure." she keeps things cold and curt.

"you as well, ms sofia." michael smiles charmingly at her, reaching over to grab her hand and press a kiss against it. you curl your face back into shock, brows raising in rage. it is then, however, you notice that he has grabbed her hand with his own sticky, mess filled hand.

she looks down, presumably realizing this two and drops his hand like it's the devil's book of lies.

"well, i certainly hope you had fun. i know i sure did." you say to her, rosy-lips pulling up into a charismatic smile.

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