and when it comes to me.. i don't believe in cyberbullying. you not finna play on my phone !! the first moment it feels disrespectful TRUST you will be blocked.
to make matters worse these anon posters don't even come up with anything original !! like the racial slurs and stereotyping is soooo played out i truly dgaf. it gives mentally unwell..
🪽— and to the black writers of the mj community, please don’t ever let someone behind a screen dim your light. Don’t let them encourage you to stop doing something you love just because it bothers or doesn’t impact them personally. What you do is art, and if other women or men other races are allowed to do so, we can too. I love you all so much and being in this community with so many black woman has meant the world to me because irl I can’t keep a friend. So thank you for being you. Please don’t let negativity bring you down, as poc we’ve been going through stuff like this for years either way. Don’t let them take what you love away from you too. Don’t let them win.
I love you guys, please don’t leave. Your important.
we put so much of our hearts into this community, we deserve the love too. we are truly so so special, even if you aren’t a writer you still matter in the community & are very much loved *mwah* *mwah*
content warnings: suggestive content — off the wall!michael, fem!reader, guys he’s just so pervy and i love it!
ఌ notes: part one
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
pervy bsf!michael who loves to watch you eat just so he can hear you quietly groan when the food touches your tongue.
pervy bsf!michael who asked you to come over to his home at hayvenhurst so he could spend some time with you.
it was a hot day, so he insisted that you spend the day at his pool, with him and his other siblings. you agreed, thankful that you spend so much time over at his house that you should have spare clothes in his room. luckily, you were able to find one of your old bikini’s from years ago.
michael waits outside his bedroom patiently while you change, humming a song under his breath.
it’s only when you step out of his bedroom wearing a red bikini that he remembers you wearing years ago, that his self control starts to crack.
the thin string tied around your neck looks like it might snap at any slight movement because your boobs look so full in them, and when his eyes trail down he can’t help the way his eyes widen.
the mid rise bikini bottoms that are meant to be full coverage, are infact not covering the whole of your ass.
“what do we think?” you ask, snapping michael out of his filthy thoughts.
michael gulps, forcing his eyes to not move past your neck because he refuses to let those vulgar thoughts of your body overtake his mind again. “i-it’s nice.” he nods quickly.
your brows furrow, confused on why his face looks so flushed but you quickly brush it off, thinking that he’s probably hot from the heat.
pervy bsf!michael who always tells you that there is something on your ass just so he can have an excuse to touch it.
pervy bsf!michael who purposely drinks from the same straw as you just so he can have your sticky lipgloss on his lips.
“mike!” you giggle when he takes your drink out of your hand.
“what?” michael shrugs, lifting the straw to his mouth.
michael takes a long sip, humming at the taste of the juice.
he gives the drink back to you, rubbing his lips against each other and feeling the stickiness of your gloss on his lips.
“ugh look, now my gloss is on you.” you huff, reaching over to try and wipe it off.
michael catches your wrist, “leave it. i don’t mind.” he smirks. your breath catches in your throat when he runs his tongue against his bottom lip.
“taste like candy.” he hums.
pervy bsf!michael who gets jealous of every single crush or boyfriend you may have, convincing you that there’s no need for you to want another man when he’s all you need.
content warnings: suggestive content — off the wall!michael, fem!reader, guys he’s just so pervy and i love it!
ఌ notes: part one
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
pervy bsf!michael who loves to watch you eat just so he can hear you quietly groan when the food touches your tongue.
pervy bsf!michael who asked you to come over to his home at hayvenhurst so he could spend some time with you.
it was a hot day, so he insisted that you spend the day at his pool, with him and his other siblings. you agreed, thankful that you spend so much time over at his house that you should have spare clothes in his room. luckily, you were able to find one of your old bikini’s from years ago.
michael waits outside his bedroom patiently while you change, humming a song under his breath.
it’s only when you step out of his bedroom wearing a red bikini that he remembers you wearing years ago, that his self control starts to crack.
the thin string tied around your neck looks like it might snap at any slight movement because your boobs look so full in them, and when his eyes trail down he can’t help the way his eyes widen.
the mid rise bikini bottoms that are meant to be full coverage, are infact not covering the whole of your ass.
“what do we think?” you ask, snapping michael out of his filthy thoughts.
michael gulps, forcing his eyes to not move past your neck because he refuses to let those vulgar thoughts of your body overtake his mind again. “i-it’s nice.” he nods quickly.
your brows furrow, confused on why his face looks so flushed but you quickly brush it off, thinking that he’s probably hot from the heat.
pervy bsf!michael who always tells you that there is something on your ass just so he can have an excuse to touch it.
pervy bsf!michael who purposely drinks from the same straw as you just so he can have your sticky lipgloss on his lips.
“mike!” you giggle when he takes your drink out of your hand.
“what?” michael shrugs, lifting the straw to his mouth.
michael takes a long sip, humming at the taste of the juice.
he gives the drink back to you, rubbing his lips against each other and feeling the stickiness of your gloss on his lips.
“ugh look, now my gloss is on you.” you huff, reaching over to try and wipe it off.
michael catches your wrist, “leave it. i don’t mind.” he smirks. your breath catches in your throat when he runs his tongue against his bottom lip.
“taste like candy.” he hums.
pervy bsf!michael who gets jealous of every single crush or boyfriend you may have, convincing you that there’s no need for you to want another man when he’s all you need.
boo fucking hoo. i see amazing writers all the time writing fluff and angst not just smut. but if WRITERS want to write smut then they fucking can.
tumblr is one of the freakiest fanfiction apps and you’re expecting it to not have smut fics? baby, if you don’t want that then go back to wattpad where the fluff/angst fics are thriving.
if you don’t want to keep reading smut idk maybe learn to write and write your damn own.
im sick of readers just complaining for the sake of complaining like mind you, this is a HOBBY. so if i want to write smut on my phone, ON MY BLOG, then imma do that.
You were laying facing him, having gone to bed with you snuggling into the warm skin of his bare, back.
Michael always woke up before you. His body was stiff from sleeping in the same position all night long, careful not to disturb you. He gently untangled his long limbs from yours, shifting his body to face you.
And oh, God.
When you shifted, the thin strap of your silk camisole slipped down, and your right breast fell free from the fabric, your brown nipple already hard from the morning chill.
He really felt like he had no choice. You were his sweet, gorgeous best friend—the one woman on earth who could make his body ache and his dick rock hard within a matter of two seconds.
He shifted his weight down a little bit, his dark eyes darkening further as he hovered over you. He ran the pad of his thumb directly across your hard, sensitive bud, glancing up through his lashes to see if you were awake.
When he saw you were still fast asleep, your breathing even and deep, his mind raced. His heavy cock twitched inside his white cotton boxers.
He ducked his head down, flicking his pink tongue right along your peak, a soft, pathetic whine catching in the back of his throat at the rich taste of you. He had dreamed about this for years.
His big, dark eyes flickered back up to your face, checking again. Your lips were parted just a little bit, looking so innocent.
His chest felt entirely too warm, his stomach aching with need. He knew he really shouldn’t be doing this to his best friend—the one line he swore he wouldn't cross when you two were just hanging out, watching movies and eating takeout. But you hadn’t ever let him touch you like this in all those years of friendship, and the temptation was eating him alive.
His lips gently enclosed around your nipple, drawing you in. His eyes almost rolled back into his head from how hot and good it felt.
He hadn’t even noticed that his right hand had drifted down, gently palming his heavy length right through the cotton of his boxers as he sucked your hard peak.
Your body shifted slightly, your torso rolling more onto your back as you continued to sleep, completely unaware your best friend was greedily devouring your exposed flesh.
He was already dangerously close, and he had barely even started. His tip was leaking pre-cum, wetting the fabric of his underwear, his hand frantically stroking himself while he gazed up at your pretty face.
His breathing was shaky and ragged. He was almost terrified of what would happen if you were to wake up right now, of how he would ever explain himself to you without losing you.
“Mmh…” he whimpered softly against your skin.
And then, as if sensing his desperation, you unconsciously arched your back up more into his mouth, chasing the friction.
Michael’s cock twitched violently, his entire body trembling. He spurted hot semen into his boxers, biting down on his lower lip to swallow a loud, breathy moan right around your peak.
Reluctantly, chest heaving, he pulled away. He stared down at your dark nipple, now glistening slickly with his saliva. Fuck, he didn’t know how much more of this secret torture he could take.
With shaky hands, he slipped out of his king-sized bed and practically scrambled into the bathroom to clean himself up.
By the time he came back out, looking flushed and trying desperately to act casual, you were stretching your arms over your head and rubbing your sleepy eyes.
“Good mornin’, Mike,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
He stood by the edge of the bed, offering a breathless, nervous little smile as he looked down at you.
“G’morning, Angel,” he whispered, his heart still hammering against his ribs.