--------Lovergirl. Golden heart locket. Frosted baby pink. Cotton candy. The 80's, 70's & 2000s. Jackie Taylor. Soda pop Wheeler. Cheer Bear. Ribbons and kisses. Eddie Munson's Girl. Deer eyed girl. AA princess. Lana Del Rey. Grease. Heathers. Wicked. Hamiltion. Sinners. Starfire. The Jackson 5. Daydreamer. ------------------
Fanfic writer. Editor. Self shipper. Yapper.
*currently working on a few fics. List will be tagged here soon!*
- getting slushees and gas station hot dogs with him at 1 in the morning as you talk about the things you want to do with each other
- tracing the patterns on his hands as you sit in front of him in a warm bath in his trailer after a sticky day
- staying in motels overnight after long drives through hawkins instead of going home
- eating in diners ONLY!
- mindless drives that involve singing incorrect lyrics to songs and he does nothing to correct you
- tia blake & the mamas and the papas on radio as your legs prop up and stick onto his dashboard
- buying ridiculous trinkets and weird shirts at the thrift for $1
- stealing glasses off his face and wearing his leather jacket in 90 degree heat. bearing through it bc it’s his
- bikini top and shorts on the ready. eddie’s bought you a couple cute pairs
- silly keychain souvenirs that add to wayne’s mug and hat collection
- day drinking at the beach and sobering up as you tan
- trying on his rings end up in you casually mentioning having matching ones to him (he folds like a lawn chair; you didn’t even need to beg )
- his hands being your tests for nail polish colors, makeup, stick n pokes, everything under the sun
- free massages after a tense day
- fingers in mouth. fingers in mouth
- causal slaps on your ass that linger as he walks by you
- teasing him by standing behind him, raking your nails from his back up to his head, putting his hair into a bun, kissing the back of his neck when you’re done
- him laying on top of you, pressing his weight down in practically a bear hug as he pounds into you in the summer heat. the sweat and warmth makes you guys take extra time bathing, which he loves
- he loves swiping specs of food and liquids dripping down your chin off your face and into his mouth with his thumb
- his thumbs favorite place besides your bottom lip is your clit. rubbing it and feeling you squeeze around him makes his hips stutter and whimpers escape his lips as sweat beads on his skin
- late night pillow talk that turns into endless kisses around your face, being the thing that drifts you into sleep <3
before you're ever good at something, you must allow yourself to be a beginner at that thing first. if you try something for the first time, chances are that you're gonna suck at it. but the beautiful thing about being a beginner is that you don't have to be a beginner forever — if you don't let the way you think "the first time I tried something, it turned out terrible" discourage you from mastering your crafts, you'll keep getting better and better. and the best thing about practicing is that you never stop getting better, there's no point you can ever reach the point where you can never be better anymore. as long as you're still alive and as long as you keep doing it, you'll only get better. you'll go from a beginner to a skilled expert and even when you're a skilled expert now, there's always more room for you to grow and be better, as long as you keep doing it. and it all starts at being a beginner and being suck at it first. there's something very humbling and beautiful about being a beginner and being suck at something ♡
Michael coming home to reader in living room blasting his songs dancing and singing and she doesn't notice him and then gets soo embarrassed caught screaming his songs xoxox
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ caught red handed • Michael x reader
⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ in which you're caught red handed having your own private concert featuring Michael's songs
𑣲⋆ Contains : fluff, fluff, fluff, Michael wanting to make u his apprentice, caught in the act
A/n: this was such a cute idea I had to start it immediately >⩊<.ᐟ
Sunday always meant cleaning day. You'd open up the blinds, pushing open all the curtains, broom in hand as you swept all throughout the kitchen, somehow breaking out a sweat from doing the simple task as you wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead as the music blasted through the speakers.
Usually, Michael would be home, but this Sunday he headed off to the studio bright and early, babbling something about a new song coming to him that you barely heard in your half-sleep state, your limbs tangled up in the warmth of the sheets as you hummed lightly at the feeling of his lips against your temple. You knew that he wouldn't be back for another few hours; hell, he might not be back until after the sun went down and the stars made themselves known in the sky, or so you thought.
It had only been a few hours since Michael left, and the kitchen and dining room were now so spotless you could almost see a sparkle on the surfaces. Next on your to-do list was the living room.
The music played throughout the house, your broom in your hand as you hummed absentmindedly to the song that played previously, before it faded off, leaving the house in a short moment of silence until the familiar opening of "The Way You Make Me Feel" started playing, the punchy sound of drums and bass echoing out into the space. Your body instinctively moved on its own as you twirled around the coffee table, completely immersed in the song, maybe too immersed that you didn’t hear the sound of the front door clicking shut, or the sound of his loafers clicking against the marble floors.
You were already shouting at the top of your lungs, using the broom as your own personal microphone, pointing at your invisible audience as you sang.
“The way you make me feellll”
Was the only thing Michael heard as he made his way through the halls into the living room, stopping in his tracks as he peered through the opening. The sight of the sun leaking through the windows completely lighting up the space as you pranced around, somehow ending up on the cushions of the couch, bouncing around and unbeknownst to you. Your fake audience had now become a live one, an amused smile playing out on Michael's face as he bobbed his head along to the beat, just waiting for the moment when you'd turn around and see him standing there.
Well, it seemed he didn't have to wait long as you turned around, posing, your eyes closed before you opened them, the realization setting in as you glanced at your position on the couch then to the smile that danced on Michael's face.
“Oh…OH!” You squealed, hopping off the couch, immediately cutting the music that filled the embarrassing moment.
“Just how much of that did you see…” you covered your face, your words muffled by your hands that were pressed to your face.
“Oh, I saw enough, maybe I should make you my apprentice,” he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back.
“Oh gosh, Michael, stop.”
"C'mon, do the pose again," he laughed as you buried your face in his chest, shaking it from the pure embarrassment of the moment.
— His P.Y.T 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 thriller!michael x black!reader
synopsis: you’re michael’s pretty, young girlfriend which inspired him to write the song P.Y.T and Michael wants you to be the first who hears it.
content warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff ۶ৎ age gap, reader is 21 michael is 24 ۶ৎ kissing ۶ৎ fem!reader perspective ۶ৎ no use of ‘y/n’ ۶ৎ usage of ‘mama’ and ‘baby’ (michael to reader) ۶ৎ black reader essentially in mind but anyone can read ofc
wc: 593 ۶ৎ
a/n: this is my first michael ff! please be nice and ur welcome to give me feedback, I would truly appreciate it! enjoy (≧◡≦)
— You were curled up with yourself on the family couch, painting your nails a soft baby pink while waiting for your boyfriend, Michael, to return from the studio. You knew his new album, Thriller, was scheduled to release soon, so he’d been gone for hours on end every day. It didn’t bother you though, you always found a way to keep yourself entertained.
As you were blowing on your second layer of nail polish, the door to the Hayvenhurst estate opened. You look up from your nails and spot Michael as he closes the door behind him. “Mikey!” Excitedly, you rushed from your seat to greet Michael at the door. Still cautious of your drying nail polish, you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his hands immediately settle around your waist.
Michael pulled back from the hug, smiling as he looked at you, “hi mama, how’ve you been?”
“I’m good mikey, I missed you..”
“I missed you more, baby.”
You smile, “how was the studio?” You asked him as you started to walk back to your spot on the couch, Michael immediately following behind. “It was fine...” You automatically looked up when his voice trailed off. “Is something wrong, mikey?”
Michael grew visibly shy, “no, nothing’s wrong! Just,” He sighed before continuing, “I have something f’you..a song.” Your eyes widen just a bit at the news. You and Michael have only been dating for a few months, so you didn’t expect a song written about you this soon into your relationship. “Aww, you made a song about me, baby?” He hides his face in his hands, obviously nervous about even bringing it up, but he clearly wanted you to hear it. “y-yeah, it’s on my album.”
A soft smile formed on your face as Michael continued to speak, “I brought it here so you could be the first to hear it..” You raised your eyebrows in shock, “the first?” Michael looked at you with a small smile, “mhm, before the label, the world..”
“Oh my baby,” feeling yourself getting emotional, you quickly gather yourself, not wanting to cry, “You’re so sweet, Mikey. Come on, play it for me.” Michael rushed over to the record player, getting everything set up for you. He was hoping you couldn’t tell, but he was extremely nervous for your reaction. What if you hated it? But, then again, you could never hate anything he sang and he knew that.
As the song began to play, you were already in love. Michael’s voice was something you could never grow tired of. Lost in your own world, you listened intently to the song. Next to you was Michael, staring holes into your face, trying to read your facial expressions. Do you hate it? Do you love it? So far, it seemed like you were liking it, and thats the exact reaction he hoped for.
When the song ended, you immediately wrapped your arms around Michael’s neck, “Michael, the song is amazing! I love it.”
“Really?”
“Mhm!”
After hearing this, he lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
You chuckle, confused a bit by his sigh, “Were you worried I wouldn’t?”
“yes? I mean..a little. I know you like anything I sing, but this was my first song f’you so I just..I don’t know, I was worried.”
You place a loving kiss on his lips, Michael quickly melting into it. “Well you had nothing to worry about mikey, I absolutely adore it.” He smiles at you again before pulling you into another soft, gentle kiss.
Request: Can you write a story about the reader meeting Jackie and his brothers at an ice cream shop, and he flirts his way into getting her number and/or going on a date with her?
Warnings: Cursing
Type: fluff, Slight flirting
A/n: This is my first story, so opinions are welcome. Please don't be shy to comment. I hope y'all enjoy the story 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ It was a much calmer day in the parlor. Not many people were coming in for ice cream. Much to your delight, that meant you were able to sit and read your book in peace with very minimal interruptions. Almost every blue moon, you had someone walking in for ice cream- one couple here, a group of kids there. But nothing too bad. You were halfway through your book and getting to the best part of the leading lady finally kissing the male lead when you heard the parlor door chime.
Looking up, you see a group of 6 boys who looked like brothers walking in with picked-out Afros, bell-bottom pants, and small heeled boots. They looked quite familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on it. As they walked up to you, they were all talking among themselves and joking around, but you couldn't help but notice how handsome the tallest one looked.
"Hello! Welcome in. What can I get you, lovely gentlemen, to start with today?" You happily asked the group.
"I'd like to start with your number," One of the six says, two others laugh with him. You roll your eyes at the statement and continue your customer service.
"We have a new sundae special if you would like to check that out instead." You suggest it to him with a tight smile.
"I'd like to check you out," another one remarked.
"Come on, you guys need to leave her alone and actually order." One of them stated.
"Either actually order something, or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." You say flatly, finally annoyed by the boys' catcalls.
"I'm sorry about their actions; they obviously don't know how to act when they see a beautiful girl at work. We'll have three chocolates, two vanilla, and one strawberry." The tallest among the 6 said, finally tired of their annoying antics.
"How many scoops are you all wanting?" you asked quickly so you could finally get them out of your parents' parlor.
"Just three for each of us." The tall one replied just as quickly.
As you scooped their ice cream and rang up their total, you noticed that in the corner of your eye, the one who looked the oldest kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking, and when you did look, he quickly turned his head to his brothers to avoid eye contact. (We gon keep playing eye tag or you gonna holla at ya boy😏)
As you pass the ice cream cones to the boys who choose the specific flavors, your hand accidentally grazes the eldest boy's hand. You shot him a quick smile, and he chuckled a little in response.
You looked away quickly, finally giving them their total. "You have a grand total of one dollar and fifteen cents," You say sweetly to the oldest boy in front of you, who was already smiling at you when you looked up.
"I can give you that and a tip, baby," the other brother from last time winked at you as he chimed in, sliding in front of the taller brother, shoving him to the side.
"I don't think she was talkin' to you, Jermaine," one of the younger-looking brothers replied, coming to your defence.
"Come on, Marlon, you know she likes it, the girls always like it when I flirt with them," the one with the familiar name Jermaine joked, oblivious to the uncomfortable look on your face.
"Well, obviously she doesn't. Now get out of her face so Jackie can pay for our ice cream," the youngest looking one replied, obviously annoyed with Jermaine's antics for the time being.
"Damn y'all cock-blocking like crazy right now. Listen, baby, how would you like to go on a date with a Jackson man?" Jermaine asked as a last-minute effort, despite the group telling him how obviously uninterested you looked in him.
You looked between the group of boys, the gears in your head finally clicking into place on why the names and faces of the boys were so familiar, you finally realized that the boys in front of you were in fact the Jackson Five.
Like clockwork, Jermaine notices the expression on your face change. A sly grin crept up on his face. "So baby, what do 'ya say?" He asks, thinking he finally got his opportunity.
"Uhm, no. The answer is still no, so can I finally get my money so you and your brothers can get out of my store?" you stated, finally sick of the treatment from someone who is supposedly the 'ladies' man' of the 6 boys.
"Come on, baby! You know you want me!" Jermaine begs
"How many times will it take for you to get the idea? I'm not interested. Now you can either pay or get the hell out my face!"
"Damnnnn, she sure told you 'Maine" Tito remarked, laughing in the back with Michael and Marlon at your response to Jermaine's desperate attempt to try and get with you.
"Jermaine, move so I can pay. She's obviously uninterested; take a hit man; it's just sad at this point." Jackie demanded, obviously irritated by how long it's taking him to get the hint that you're not interested in him.
"Fine, I ain't want her ass anyways," Jermaine murmured as he moved to the back with Tito, Marlon, and Michael, who were still laughing at him after finally getting told off.
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Are you gonna pay, or are you finna say something slick like the other one did?." You say to Jackie, who was finally back in front of you.
"I'on want no problems ma' I'm just here to pay," Jackie stated, quickly reaching into his pocket to give you the money to pay for all of his brothers' ice creams, including his own.
The way he calls you ma gives you a small, tight feeling in your stomach. Brushing it off, you take the money from him and put it into the cash register. Grateful that the interaction between the brothers can finally be over.
"Thank you, have a good rest of yalls afternoon," you say, still a little irritated by the earlier situation.
They all exit the store, chatting and joking about the interaction that just occurred, but you realise that the eldest brother, Jackie, stays behind.
He walks up to you with a somewhat complicated look on his face.
"Listen, I know what my brother just did probably just pissed you off, but I promise ma, I'm nothing like him, and I wanted to ask if I could get your number and maybe take you out sometime. If you'd allow me, of course?"
"Hmm, I don't know... You might just be tryna play in my face," you say, contemplating his offer, not knowing if he's being serious or not.
"I swear to you I'm not; you're really pretty, and it would mean alot if you'd let me take you out. It's my treat, I promise." He looks at you pleadingly, hoping that you'll take him seriously on his offer and say yes.
Michael comes back into the store, assuming that his brother would still be here after he wasn't with the rest of his brothers after they left the parlor. "Jackie, come on, man; why are you still here-" Michael pauses, seeing the obvious tension going on before he walked in and interrupted. "Ohhh, I see what's going on here. My bad jackie i aint mean to interrupt you shooting your shot," Michael said quickly before leaving again to catch back up with the group to probably tell them what he just saw.
"I'm sorry about that; they can be so nosy. But like I said before, I would really like it if I could take you out on a date or get your number."
Seeing that he was obviously serious about taking you out, you took a pen out from the cup holder next to the cash register and reached out to grab his unoccupied hand to write your phone number in his palm.
"Since you're an obviously busy guy and I believe you're actually being serious, here's my number. Call me when you find time out of your schedule to take me out."
"Of course, ma' thank you so much, I promise it'll be worth your time!" He replied, obviously not expecting you to actually say yes to the offer or you giving him your number. As he walks to the door, he turns around and gives you a small wave and a smile as gratitude before finally turning around and leaving to catch up to his brothers and probably tell them about what just happened.
Once he was finally out of view from the windows, you finally realized the variety of your situation; you had just gotten asked to go on a date with Thee Jackie Jackson, and not only that, you gave him your number.
"I just gave Jackie Jackson my number, and he asked me to go on a date with him!!" You squeal in delight, finally letting the fangirl in you out in the open.
"Please don't let this be some type of dream, or else I never want to wake up." You mutter under your breath as you go to sit on a stool behind the counter, as you go to finish reading your book, still recollecting what just happened to you moments before.
⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔
A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this story. If you want a part two, let me know. Have a wonderful day or night(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Usually he’s tucked into your side, inhaling you with each breath, his parted lips ticking hot air onto your neck. On nights when you’re still awake, staring up at the ceiling with an arm around Michael and the other behind your head, you’d catch him mumbling in his sleep.
It has become one of your favorite past times honestly, making out his dreams solely based on his incoherent babbles or sudden twitches in his body.
“M’Mickey…” you caught him mumbling into your skin one night. Uh oh, another Disney coded dream. You honestly back to bite the side of your cheek to restrain your laughter. “That’s my lady, ain’t she pretty…”
On another night, you even caught him talking to your “kids”, which made you heat up yourself. You imagined that Michael was dreaming of the two of you in your own, Tudor styled home, with a three floors and a big yard. You couldn’t make out the names of your kids, but boy there was a lot.
Michael became whiny when got up, complaining about how cold he is and how much he needs you. Tempting.
Even if when you’d shift, maybe to make a little bit of space between you or just simply adjusting your position, he pulls you closer. It’s like he has this sensor that goes off whenever you aren’t skin to skin.
But you both have work to do today, and you unfortunately can’t spend it cuddling with the best boyfriend in the world. Pulling back the sheets was like lifting a rock from a bug. He curls into your side of your bed, desperate for your warmth as he whined into the seam of your pillows, escaping the sunlight from the drawn curtains.
“Torture!” he croaks, rolling onto his back with a pillow pushed to his face. His shirt rode up at his torso, revealing that brown, toned stomach. If he knew how much you wanted to lay back down right now.
After spending ten minutes getting him out of bed, washing his face, and guiding him to the barstool seats at kitchen island, he still dozed off. You snorted as you moved around some bacon in the pan when you looked over your shoulder. Luckily the smell of breakfast woke him up a bit.
When you serve yourself and sat next to him, he lazily picked at his food, chin planted in his palm as he blinked slowly.
You laugh in amusement and adoration, “Don’t tell me I have to feed you as well.”
He tilts his head and with a raised a brow, like he’s considering your gracious offer, “that could happen.”
Michael was a greedy man. He craves your attention, your warmth, your presence. This whole “sleepy act”— whether it was real— was between him and the man upstairs. If that meant staying up late a night so he’ll be tired as hell in the morning… worth it. In the meantime… more of you time for him.
You let out a quiet giggle as your brought up the forked scrambled eggs to his lips, and he leaned in, planting his big hand on your knee to “stabilize” himself before he took the bite. He swallowed before yawning, “always cook so good, mama.”
Biting back a shit eating grin, you hold up his chin, your thumb rubbing his warm skin. Michael immediately leaned into your palm, even closing his eyes, relishing your sweet loving. “Thank you, sleepyhead.”
