ஐ jasani 𝔁 she/her 𝔁 mid 20s 𝔁 pro black 𝔁 virgo 𝔁 part-writer 18+ MNDI 🔞
🧸ྀི michael jackson, jaafar jackson, slight kpop, and wtv else i decide to blog
⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ i’ve been writing for as long as i can remember but im coming back bc i’ve realised i miss and loved it sm! i’ve written bxb for one direction, seventeen, and bts and now im ready to try something new with mj and jj! please note all my readers will be described as a black woman ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
inexperienced reader and inexperienced michael sex. yes. but michael is confused why you keep running from your orgasms every single time you guys fuck. like literally getting off his dick or his tongue. it drives him crazy because he also wants to feel what it feels like when you cum but you ruin your own high every single time. then one day, he has you in prone bone which is the perfect position to hold you in place and you panic! you panic and tell him it feels like you’re gonna pee on him! but michael being the sweetheart he is, tells you he doesn’t mind, he just wants you to finish. and he kisses your shoulder and keeps rutting into you. he loves you, a little pee isn’t gonna scare him off :)
that’s when you both discover that you’re a squirter.
𝘐𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩… Michael Jackson glitters, metaphorically and literally. With the release of Off the Wall, he’s started to cement himself in the world of disco, pop and funk. So, what does he do when a pretty woman offers to spoil him? He says yes, naturally!
۶ৎ part one -> to be written!
my first time trying out a series on tumblr!! i hope i get it right!! stay on the lookout <3
seeing that video of jermajesty saying “you gone take that nigga” had my gears turning and thinking (that’s all I do atp).
but like imagine jermajesty having you face down, ass up in the bed just delivering the meanest strokes that’s constantly jabbing at your g-spot. you accidentally purposely pissed him off earlier by teasing him while he was on the phone for an important call for work—you kept bending over in front of him with some short juicy couture shorts that practically shows everything once you bend over, you took it up a notch by getting a popsicle from the freezer, making unnecessary suction noises and holding eye contact with him everytime he turned around. but what really topped the cake was when he sat down on the couch, you decided it was a good idea to purposely dropped the roku remote under the coffee table, getting down on your hands and knees, creating a deep arch in your back and subtly swaying your hips.
as soon as he got the okay to hang up, his finger nearly bent at how fast he pressed at the red end call button—he wasted no time snatching you up off the floor walking speed walking up the steps towards y’all’s bedroom, and what lowkey scared you the most was the blank expression on his face. once he made it to the room, he quickly shut the door with his foot walking over to the bed, placing you on your feet as he mumbled out “strip for me.”
and that’s how you ended up with your face smushed in the pillow, gasping into the pillow as jermajesty never let up from his harsh strokes and his thumb that was rubbing circles on your swollen clit—the stimulation becoming too much to bare, you weakly lifted on arm to push at his abdomen. “pa-hic!- it’s too much” you wailed out and you slowly moved forward to try to relieve yourself but that was quickly short lived as he snatched your arm back, pinning it down on your back. “you wanna tease me? you gone take this shit mama” jermajesty gritted out as a loud groan rumbled from his chest from the feeling of you relentlessly clenching around him. “ ‘m so sorry” your words were muffled from your head being pushed deeper into the pillow.
“you not sorry, ma, but imma make sure you are once I’m done.”
ANYWHO, vampirebf!jaafar headcanons out later today or friday🌚
I noticed the lack of Captain EO fics, so I took it upon myself to write!! I am mainly inspired by Star Wars and some influences of Afrofuturism!! The reader is imagined as a Black/Brown woman.
synopsis: you've grown to learn quite a few things about your beloved captain! | 1.7k words
warnings: a bit suggestive/risque, but fluff nonetheless
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Accomplishing missions without any trouble was quite rare for the ever exuberant Captain EO. With his crew of plucky misfits piloting at the speed of light, it was guaranteed that chaos followed them everywhere on their quests.
Despite all disarray, the young captain swore by his duties to change the world into a brighter place. He chose to do so with his own magnanimous efforts—specifically relying on dance and music.
At The Corps, he’s the songbird proposing wacky solutions with unbridled enthusiasm amongst his other peers. EO’s kind heart was purer than any mineral found in the entire galaxy, for it outweighed the bad reputation he earned.
Commander Bog knew EO meant well, hence the numerous chances he provided for him and his band of outcasts. All of the higher-ups at The Command wanted nothing more than to revoke his position. However, after EO’s grandeur approach to reviving the Dark Industrial Planet with a sacred beacon, he’s redeemed himself greatly.
The praise felt like an epiphany; he and his crew rightfully embraced their success as the higher-ups felt obligated to depend upon the bunch. Their drive surpassed any other squadrons no matter their unpolished methods, which ultimately landed them into an opportunity of a light year.
Quarks and cosmos aside, EO and his team had to escort an empress back to her home planet without any attention being brought. The last remnants of the Darkness swarmed heavily on leaders within the nebulas. It was risky for her highness’ fleet to follow amid calamity, so the last resort was for the Corps to ensure private security.
The Command wanted to put EO to the test, in hopes to really gauge his resilience and level of responsibility, so of course he was sent. His own flock was surely starstruck at the proposition, fearing the worse that could happen to such a highly-regarded person. Their captain was perplexed, but excitement shot through every fiber of his being.
You were a gorgeous woman, carrying such grace and elegance that rivaled the Moon itself. You exuded order and compassion for your people. Nothing but words of admiration fell from other diplomats’ mouths.
How could he not be possibly enamored by your regality?
Overall, the mission went surprisingly well. Save for “minor” hiccups on Hooter’s end, and the ship breaking down in the most remote location because of Major Domo’s negligence.
Or how often Idy and Ody bickered on the entire trip, causing the captain to swiftly chastise them for making a scene in your presence. Fuzzball remained attached to your shoulder, drawn to your inviting nature (to which EO was devastatingly annoyed [jealous] about).
Fortunately, you enjoyed the dynamic as it gave you a taste of normalcy. Being shoved into a powerful role at a young age caused you to miss out on a lot in your youth. You sought to have fun and live freely from diplomacy for a change, to which you found in the curly-headed captain.
From there, a connection sparked that neither the stars in the Milky Way could write. It was something felt within the force; a powerful attraction bringing you together. The two of you secretly kindled a bond, constantly keeping in contact. Most of EO’s squad believed you two were friends in an alliance to evade all darkness. The only one aware was Fuzzball, who caught his Captain admiring a hologram of you while everybody was not present. The winged-alien recalled how flustered EO was with tinged red cheeks and ears, but it didn’t phase him. Fuzzball was quite fond of you as well, so he kept the secret (with a few bribes).
You had a grounding aura, which made you someone that could level the captain’s recklessness. You eased EO’s worries after a failed mission, or offered to help repair any of his gadgets from mayhem. You became a prominent figure that EO never knew he lacked, and he was determined to stay by your side forever.
The only setback was that neither of you could profess your love out loud yet. He wasn’t a royal figure and members of The Corps were forbidden to have close relationships in their line of work. For you, your public image would be tarnished if people found out.
Luckily, that didn’t matter because EO wasn’t one to conform to The Command. If only they could see him now in your private quarters; the two of you were on your canopy bed, indulging in domesticity.
You threaded your fingers through EO’s jet-black curls, in awe of how well refreshed they were during the lengthy excursions. He laid in your lap, clad in his prisma-colored tee and a linen pair of pants he opted for instead of his leather ones. His eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering as rhythmically as Fuzzball’s wings. He hummed a melodic tune to break the stillness that cloaked you both.
Your hands skimmed along his scalp before moving back to cup his cheeks, “You’re always singing, my dear.”
EO huffed a shy chuckle and opened one eye with a mischievous gleam, “You don’t?”
It was your turn to shake your head at his antics, a wide grin etching your lips.
“Not everyone is blessed with such talent, EO. Was that part of your training?” You poked his nose, egging him on.
“C’mon…are you being rude? I just like to sing…” he murmured, bringing his ungloved hand to catch yours. “How uncivilized of you, milady.”
The captain leaned up to bring your hand to his lips, pressing light kisses while meeting your eyes. You could see the twinkles amongst his pupils as he held your gaze. The captain positioned himself to sit across from you and moved your hand back to his cheek. He melted at your touch, all while focusing on your own appearance.
You wore a bare visage, free from any royal makeup and dramatic contour. There was no longer a dramatic headdress, extravagant gowns, or meticulous hairstyles. Just you in a long, flowy nightgown with your coily tresses plaited into a sophisticated braid over your shoulders. Occasional beads and gems were ornately sprinkled in each segment of the plait, making you look ethereal than any other constellation in the sky.
EO became infatuated with the crinkle of your eyes and the sculpt of your nose. But, most importantly your lips.
On cue, you closed the distance, coursing your fingers in his hair to allow your mouths to meet. EO slid his other hand underneath your nightgown, caressing the silky, smooth skin of your brown thighs. You tugged at his curls in response, receiving a quiet whine from his lips. His fingers lit up and sparked against your legs, the sensation pulsating throughout your entire body.
You both were tangled in each other’s embrace, ignoring the soft glow radiating across all corners of the room. You moved your lips to his jaw, pressing chaste kisses all the way down to his neck. Discreetly, you observed every note and octave of sighs released from EO, as he completely complied to your touch.
The corpsman pulled you into his lap, rubbing the exposed surface on your back with tenderness. He tugged and gripped on almost every part of you. His hands fervently squeezed your thigh once more. As a result, he felt you nip at a sensitive area you both hadn’t known about, causing beam rays to light up your view and soon every crevice of your room.
He jolted back, eyes widening to scan your surroundings for any intruders. Methodically, his field of vision surveyed the space and once he felt satisfied, he checked for your safety. EO looked at your expression searching for signs of fear or danger, but he was only met with bewilderment turned giggles.
“Your Highness, are you okay?” he breathed out softly, reaching for your hands. His tone was frantic, yet morphed into confusion at your harmonious laugh. Of course he would formally address you after practically eating your face off.
You couldn’t contain the laughter spilling out for the current predicament became too comical. You leaned forward into his shoulder, hoping to muffle the sounds to avoid suspicion from any nearby guards.
Your lover looked at you, skeptical of your current state. He fearfully glanced around once more to make sure no one was watching. Not only would he be in deep trouble, but your reign was at stake.
“Um, what happened?” His soft voice laced with concern coaxed you out of your mania.
With quiet heaves and quick breaths, you calmed down and laced your fingers with EO’s to minimize his stress.
“You lit up, my love. You’re glowing, literally,” you lifted your hands, demonstrating the entire situation. “I think you got…a bit too excited.” Your hand contrasted with his, showcasing just how illuminating he was.
The leader flushed with embarrassment, and evaded your stares. He mumbled under his breath, ignoring the growing smile on your face.
“What was that? EO, speak up,” you lifted his chin and seemed far too pleased at his behavior. His face only turned a brighter red and the state of his body remained aflame.
“Captain.”
His head snapped up at the title , allowing you to sneak a peck on his cheeks. He ached at the direct contact, then slightly winced at how short-lived it came to be. EO sighed and looked at you with a flash of shame.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. ‘M sorry.”
“Nonsense, it was a surprise. Did you know you could always do that?” You played with his dazzling fingers, marveling at the stardust emanating in the air.
“When I’m dancing or in combat, yes. But, no. Not like…that,” he replied shyly, replacing the glowering from before.
“It’s unique, all parts of you are,” you murmured after stealing quick glimpses of EO’s doe-like pout. His dark-brown eyes timidly bounced from his hand to your face, still feeling guilty of ruining a precious moment.
His own demons rarely showed around his crew, but in your arms? He was a vulnerable man. EO was able to let his guard down, and free himself from the weight of the world on his shoulders. He could only imagine that you were doing the same, allowing his agitation to dissipate. EO would give up the entire intergalactic empire to see you happy.
“Yeah? I guess I am one-of-a kind,” the leader added with a hint of pride, pulling away to wrap his arms around you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you, your majesty.” A tease.
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you rolled your eyes, peppering his cheeks. “Does this mean we can test something out? Just one more time—”
SYNOPSIS: a big argument between you and michael broke out mere days after he asked you to marry him. you didn’t think it was that serious, which is why you didn’t break off the engagement but michael being the petty man he is, refused to speak or see you for weeks. which leads to you attending the mtv 1995 awards, just to see him.
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI — fem!reader, secret relationship, angst angst angstttttt, hurt/comfort, makeup sex, public sex, petty!michael, toxic ish!michael, reader lowkey folds but who wouldn’t?, janet being the queen that she is, happy ending, no use of y/n
WC: 6.6k (guys i think i cooked a bit too much)
AN: this is based off of when michael ghosted lisa marie for six weeks and the only way she could see him was when he was performing. but also keep in mind that this is a work of fiction and the events in this fic shouldn’t be taken as an accurate piece of media! for reference to the title, i was listening to “oscar winning tears” and that’s how i got inspired for this fic lol.
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
neverland ranch, july 27th 1995
“michael you can’t be serious.” you say, watching the way your now fiancée is pacing right in front of you.
he stops his pacing, looking at you like you just told him to go fuck himself.
“i am serious, baby.” he starts, “what part of me askin’ for us to make our relationship public to the media and you moving in with me is a joke?”
you sigh. “mikey, i love you. and i want to marry you, i do. but im just not ready for my face to be revealed on every single newspaper or magazine yet. or for i don’t know,” you throw your hands in the air, “your crazy fans harassing me all because im getting married to their celebrity sweetheart.”
he pinches the bridge of his nose, like this whole talk you’re having with him is raising his blood pressure. “okay let me ask you this one thing.” he says.
you nod.
“you knew what you were getting into when we first started dating, right?”
“well yeah, but—”
“let me finish.” he snaps, holding up a singular finger.
you let out a scoff in disbelief, at the snappiness of his tone.
he’s never spoke to you like that before.
“when we started dating, i told you what it would be like dating someone like me. i even refused many many times because i never wanted you to have to deal with the media or the tabloids. but it was you that was persistent. it was you that wanted me so bad to the point you never cared about what anyone else thought. it was me who decided to keep the relationship secret because i didn’t want you to get hurt. i didn’t want you to have to deal with all of that pressure. and now because i’d rather let the world know who my wife is on my terms instead of the media leaking it, it’s a problem?”
“no, no of course it’s not baby, but—”
“but what?”
you close your mouth at his words, not even attempting to speak. michael is normally a calm and collected person who seems to have a lot of patience. but now at this moment, he’s giving you no grace at all.
“okay listen.” you start, speaking slowly. you’re trying not to say the wrong thing because one thing you’ll hate to do is make this situation even bigger than it needs to be. “i love you. i want to marry you. i hope to someday start a family with you, but when i said all those things about the media finding out about us, yes i still don’t care what they think because my love for you outweighs all of that worry. but it doesn’t erase the fact that im scared. im scared of what people will think because it’s not like im just a girl that you’re sleeping with, or your date to an award show. i’m going to become your wife soon and that’s, michael that’s a crazy jump. and damn me for wanting to enjoy the buildup of us getting married without the unnecessary stress of people finding out about us.”
you take in a lungful of air, after spilling out everything you’ve been bottling up since michael has made it known that he wanted to make you guys’ relationship public.
“mikey, please say something.” you whisper, when you see him take a seat at the other side of the couch. he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at the ground.
“there’s nothing to say.” he shrugs. “you’re not ready so im going to have to accept that.”
“what does that mean?” you ask.
“it means, come back to me when you’ve made up your mind.” he gets up from the couch, walking to the phone on the other side of the room.
“what do you mean, ‘come back to me’ like i work for you or something?” you snap, your tempter starting to rise.
you’ve been so calm throughout this whole conversation but now you just feel angry.
it’s like he can’t understand that you need time. you need time so you can mentally prepare yourself for your life to be completely turned around.
he stays silent, jamming his finger into the numbers before he lifts up the phone and puts it to his ear.
“michael are you even listening to me?” you stand up walking towards him so you two are face to face.
well not exactly face to face since he’s a couple inches taller than you.
he looks down at you and the look on his face makes you take in a deep breath without realising it.
it’s not the normal, loving look he gives you all the time. i mean of course, you can tell that he still loves you a lot because otherwise he would’ve never been so angry. but the look that is pointed right now at you is somehow distant. like he’s looking straight through you, and closing himself in a tiny box.
he’s secluding himself from you already and you both are still together in the same room, inches away from each other.
the person on the other side of the phone seems to pick up because he looks away from you and focuses on something above your head. “hi, yes i need you to send a car up, immediately.”
you gasp, grabbing his arm. he’s sending that car to come and get you.
“michael don’t do this.” you plead. tightening your hold on his wrist but he doesn’t even move an inch. he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore.
he’s shut you out.
“baby we can talk about this. we’re engaged remember. all im asking for is some time to think but this is too much. don’t hide from me.” you beg, your lip starting to quiver at the thought of him dismissing you so quickly without giving you a chance.
“okay, thank you.” he says, hanging up the phone and placing it back where it was. “the car should be here in a second to take you home.” he mutters, shrugging off your hold on his wrist and walking past you towards the spacious kitchen.
you follow him, tears springing to your eyes. you ignore the chef who’s at the stove cooking, and go to michael who’s opening the fridge, and taking out a carton of orange juice.
“michael.” you whimper, your chest starting to feel tight.
he ignores you, opening the cabinet and taking out a fresh glass.
“michael why are you doing this?” you say. “what happened to talking about things? why can’t you have a civil conversation without shutting people out whenever they don’t agree with you?” at this point tears are already starting to fall freely down your face, messing up your makeup.
you’re hurt. you’re hurt that he’s angry at you all because you want to protect yourself.
he should be able to understand. he should be able to see how terrified you are about the world finding out about you.
“michael!” you shout, openly sobbing in the kitchen and not giving a fuck about the chef staring at you like you’re insane.
you hate it when he does this. he does this every time he’s upset or angry. he just stops talking, stops acknowledging your presence. it’s like in his world, you don’t exist.
and you hate that he’s doing this to you. the woman that he went down on one knee to propose to a couple days ago. the woman that he says everyday is the love of his life. the woman that he wants to have kids with.
at that thought, you put your hands over your face, sobbing into your palms.
“the car should be here now.” you hear him say over your sobs.
you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “okay.” you whimper. you turn to leave, because no matter how much you plead, or beg for him to just listen to you, you know that he won’t. once he’s made up his mind, no one is changing it.
“i love you mikey. ill never stop loving you okay.” you stand there in the kitchen, waiting. waiting to see if there’s a change in his expression or even if he’s going to tell you that it’s all a big fat joke and you can still stay the night like you were meant to.
but no.
he says nothing, in fact he even turns his back on you so the only thing you can see is the back of his head.
with one final glance his way, you walk out of neverland ranch, hoping and praying that you’ll get to come back.
17th august, 1995
it’s been three weeks.
three weeks of voicemails, and you trying everything in your power to get michael to pick up the damn phone.
you never thought he’ll take it this far.
and to make matters worse, the times you’ve tried to visit the ranch, he hasn’t been there.
it’s like he’s actively, avoiding you.
the only times you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of him is from the screen of your television or from the tabloids.
and from the looks of it, he’s living his best life out there.
from the moments you’ve seen, he doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t look miserable. he looks… happy to mingle with his fans. and definitely happy to not be in your presence.
you feel sick. you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself for trying to grasp just a pinch of his attention just for him to prance around and act like you don’t exist.
this is the longest you guys have ever spent apart since you both started dating a year and a half ago.
it’s either you would spend a couple nights at the ranch with him or he’ll come and stay at your apartment.
even when he would go on his tours, you’ll always be there in the audience, making your appearance known.
hell, even his family know who you are, and they seem to love you.
you remember when you first started dating michael and you both tried to keep it under wraps but his family found out in mere weeks.
you’ve even been at their home in havenhurst a couple times.
just the thought, that you’ll probably never go back there and see sweet katherine again, has your stomach forming a knot.
but unfortunately you can’t let yourself go on like this. at the end of the day you are a woman before anything else and you can’t be sitting here being stringed along by a man.
even if that man is michael jackson.
31st august, 1995
it’s been two more weeks and at this point you don’t give a single fuck.
a couple weeks ago, you were still calling his landline, crying when the machine told you to leave a message all because you missed him, and all you wanted was for him to hold you in his arms and tell you it’ll be okay.
but now… fuck him.
honestly, fuck michael jackson.
at first you were calling him so he could just hear you out, and so you guys could fix whatever problems you both seemed to have but now the calls starting turning more serious.
you’re calling him so he can come and take the ring back.
it’s been five weeks of him ignoring your calls, or him refusing to be home when you try and visit him and all you’ve been doing inbetween, apart from crying your eyes out, is looking down at your left hand and seeing the big, 10 carat ring that is sitting comfortably on your finger.
if ghosting his fiancée is the new thing for breaking off an engagement then so be it.
because you’re not going to be here looking so goddamn stupid, when he’s there enjoying his life without you.
and to think all of this was because you wanted to wait just a couple more months before exposing your relationship to the world.
and that’s why you decided to do what you’re about to do.
you never wanted to get his sister involved. or anyone else involved, but at this point you’re desperate.
you’ve even tried to reach out to bill, quincy and even some of the staff at neverland and they’ve all told you the same thing.
“michael is busy.”
busy.
busy doing what? torturing your whole being with his silence?
and now you’ve sought out his baby sister because if it’s anyone that can get michael to talk to you so he can take back the ring, it’ll be her.
“hello.” janet’s voice immediately flows through the phone.
you bite your lip, tears starting to form because for the past five weeks, all you’ve wanted was to hear the warmth of michael’s voice and janet, she just sounds so similar to him.
janet says your name, causing you to clear out your throat so she doesn’t know that you’re fighting back tears right now.
“sorry.” you sniff. “um i just wanted to ask if you know where i can find michael because he’s been ignoring me… for so long and i-i need to give him back the ring.”
silence.
just pure silence on the other side of the phone.
you didn’t hear the click to indicate that she hung up on you so she should still be on the phone. why isn’t she saying anything?
“janet?” you ask.
“im sorry.” she clears her throat. “what do you mean you need to give him back the ring? what on earth has happened?”
you start to tell janet about everything, from the beginning where you and michael started arguing at the ranch five weeks ago, till when he practically told you to leave his home and has been ignoring your calls and visits ever since. at this point you couldn’t even hide the fact that you were crying.
“…i didnt even realise he was going to go this far janet. all i-i wanted was for us to talk about it and come to some sort of conclusion, as couples should do.” you sob.
“oh honey, im so sorry. if he wasn’t in new york right now ill go and kick his fuckin’ ass.”
you laugh at her words, despite the fact your nose is all snotty and your mascara is damaged from your endless tears.
you’ve never cried so much in your life ever. these five weeks have made you feel like all you do is cry.
but then you realise what she actually just said. “wait he’s in new york?” you ask.
“yeah, he flew over there early for a couple of press conferences, and signings before the mtv awards. him and i both got nominations for our music video ‘scream’.”
“oh my god, congratulations!” you say.
you’re only congratulating janet, it’s just unfortunate that michael is nominated as well. it’s such a horrible thought since you can’t help but love him so very much. but you’re hurting. just the thought of him makes your heart clench in your chest.
“well i hope you win,” you smile, emphasising on her winning. “but whenever you see michael just tell him from me that he needs to come and get his ring back.” your smile drops, at that thought.
because giving him the ring back is the last thing you want to do.
but you’ve been waiting for weeks just to hear a simple ‘hi’ from him and you’ve got nothing.
and you have to have some sort of respect for yourself.
“why don’t you come to the award show?” janet says, causing your mouth to drop.
“oh no—”
“yes! you have to come. you can fly with me and i can easily get you a seat in the front row. you know what yes, you’re coming. let me add you onto my list right now.”
“janet—”
she cuts you off, saying your name in such a tone that has you clamping your lips shut.
“you’re coming. pack a couple of clothes, we will be flying out in a couple of days. ill send you a car to pick you up and take you to the private airport.”
“janet, you really don’t have to.” she scoffs on the other side of the phone.
“no but i want to. and also i want you to be there when i give my brother a piece of my mind. because one thing you’re not going to is disrespect a woman, not just any woman, his fiancée.”
you go to argue with her again but you stop yourself. you’re so tired, so fucking tired of battling this all by yourself that it feels so relieving having someone take your side. even if that person is his sister.
“thank you. janet, thank you so much.”
“you don’t have to thank me. we’re going to be sisters soon, see you in a couple days.” as soon as she uttered those words, she hangs up the phone.
you didn’t even have enough time to tell her that you’re still giving michael back his ring and there would be no wedding for you both to be sister in laws.
NYC, september 7th 1995
you feel like you’re about to be sick.
this is the first time you will be seeing michael in six goddamn weeks and you feel like you’re going to throw up in your seat.
and to make matters worse, you’re sitting next to some a lister celebrity that keeps on giving you looks and wondering how the hell you even got a ticket, and especially one for the first row.
you swallow, your eyes shifting to the empty seat beside you that michael will be sitting in after he finishes performing.
just the thought of you watching him on stage, knowing that you’re about to hand him back the ring afterwards is another reason why you just may throw up.
the night has already been going on for quite some time, and you’ve been shifting nervously wearing a beautiful black dress, with a slit in the thigh.
it just so happens that it was michael who bought you that dress, the night he proposed to you.
after the first half of awards were presented, the curtain starts to lower and the whole place goes pitch black. the audience starts to scream when the curtain starts to rise and michael. your michael, steps onto stage.
you gasp, because he just looks so beautiful and majestic, which he has no right to be because you’re so very mad at him.
and it’s so hard being mad, when the first thought that entered your mind after not seeing him for six weeks was that you can’t wait to fuck him. even though you know that you’re never going to feel him inside you again.
damn him for making you feel this way.
you look down at your left hand and play with your ring nervously, watching the way the mixtapes of his music hit and how he immediately came alive on stage.
you sit there, staring in admiration at the way he floats around the stage like he owns it.
after about five minutes of his performance, he stops and everyone claps, congratulating him.
i mean you may want to strangle him or fuck him or both. but you can’t deny that he did amazing on that stage tonight.
“thank you.” he says in the mic.
“thank you so much.”
“i love you.” he points to a screaming fan in the audience.
you clench your eyes shut when he says that, wishing that you could hear him say that to you just one more time.
“some of us… likes to play it safe. and take each day as it comes.” he starts. “some of us like to take that crazy walk on the wild side.” you hear a couple of people scream when he says that.
“so… for those of us who like living dangerously. this one’s for you.” and with that he runs to the back of the stage, as dancers start filtering on, distracting us from him switching outfits.
you shake your head, letting out a small laugh at the fact that you thought he was done performing. your laugh immediately stops when his dancers reveal him wearing a suit and tie, with a black hat on.
he starts performing this part of the performance and it’s honestly like he’s trying to seduce you from the stage.
you cross your legs over each other, squeezing your thighs to try and get some sort of friction because there’s no way he’s there humping the air, grabbing his crotch and running his hands down his chest with orgasm worthy expressions on his face, without you getting turned on.
you let out a breath when the music stops and he grabs a mic saying his thanks to the crowd. you don’t think you would’ve been able to take any more of his dirty dancing without at least losing your mind.
this whole time, he still hasn’t noticed you and you’re glad. you’ll probably burst into tears if he locks eyes with you and acknowledges your presence.
“thank you. and for those of you, who made this record number one, i dedicate this to you.”
when the music hits, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt, that’s when you knew it was a huge mistake coming to this award show.
you should’ve stood your ground and told janet no.
because this is your favourite song from michael and he loves to sing it to you all the time, so just hearing him singing this song on stage infront of thousands of people makes your heart lurch in your chest.
as the song goes on, there’s already tears swarming your vision. he walks to the edge of the stage, taking in the audience as he’s singing, and that’s when his eyes fall on you.
“though we’re far apart…” you let a few tears drop when you see him point straight at you when he sings the words with a raise of his brow and a small smirk.
you scoff, wiping your tears with the pad of your finger. how dare he find this amusing after he’s just literally broken your heart, and made you experience twenty different emotions in the span of his fifteen minute performance.
after that song finishes, everyone including you stand up to give him a round of applause.
he smiles on the stage, giving everyone a bow. his eyes lock with yours again, but this time instead of holding the eye contact, you look down at the ground.
you hate that he has you feeling this way. at this point you just may hate him.
the awards continue on as normal and you start to feel more comfortable, watching all these artists get their awards.
you were a bit too comfortable that you forgot about the empty seat beside you until you smelt that familiar cologne.
you look up, your eyes widening when you take in michael wearing a black leather biker jacket with his collars popped out, and a matching pair of black trousers. oh and let’s not forget the signature sunglasses that he always wears.
he sits down silently in the chair beside you, getting comfortable with his legs spread so wide, you’re surprised they didn’t bump into yours.
you clear your throat awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest and focusing on the two celebrities who are making their way onto the stage.
they start to read out the award and the nominees and you hear ‘scream’ get mentioned. everyone starts to clap including you, and that’s when you see the camera pan to michael who you didn’t notice was staring right at you. he saves himself by pointing to the camera with a shit eating grin.
the camera was already able to catch your face but you still decide to look in the other direction.
“and the winner is,” the announcer calls, “michael jackson and janet jackson.” you start clapping hard when you hear janet’s name get mentioned.
yes you’re that petty.
michael gets up and starts walking to the stage, but stops and waits for janet who was sitting in the front row on the other side.
both of them walk onto the stage together and embrace in a hug. you see janet whisper something into michael’s ear which causes him to give her a terrified look.
they both take turns, saying their thanks to friends, family, producers etc, before they walk off stage holding their awards.
you can’t help but notice that michael is more rigid when he sits back down, instead of his laid back version that you saw before he got up to collect his award.
you still refuse to look at him, keeping your body pushed to the other side of your seat.
at this point, you have no interest in speaking to him at all tonight. at first you wanted to at least do the dramatic ring toss to the chest and then walk out on him but you feel like the only thing you’ll be able to do is cry and beg him to fuck you from the back.
maybe it’s possible to mail him the ring. yeah that sounds like a good idea.
you sigh, when there’s another commercial break and you decide to get up to go to the bathroom. this award show has been going on for hours.
you’re tired, heartbroken, horny and all you want to do is go home.
once you’ve finished in the bathroom, you fix your dress and start to make your walk back to the main room so you can sit back in your seat before the break is done, but you get interrupted by a hand on your arm.
you look up seeing michael, with his eyes still covered by his sunglasses.
“what are you doing?” you blurt out, when he starts to drag you down a long hallway.
“michael let go.” you hiss. trying to pull your arm out of his grip.
he ignores you, the same way he’s been doing for the last six weeks and just keeps on walking.
“michael joseph jackson, let me go before i scream.” you say, still trying to break his grip. but his hand is wrapped around your wrist so tight, that you won’t be surprised if there isn’t already a bruise forming.
you’re still trying to get him to let go of you when michael shoves open a door, that you’re assuming is his dressing room.
“what are you doing?” you yell. “are you— mmphh” your words are swallowed when michael crashes his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door.
at first you start to enjoy the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours, tasting just a hint of orange juice but then you remember how he had you leave neverland over a month ago, and didn’t speak to you since.
you push against his chest, panting.
“what. is. your. problem?” you shout, smacking him in the chest.
“you are actually more insane than i thought.” you scoff. “how dare you ignore me for six fucking weeks straight, and then have the audacity to drag me here just to kiss me? have you lost your damn mind?” you can’t stop shouting. after all these weeks of you bottling up your emotions, you can’t help but get it out.
“and,” you let out a dry laugh, “and it was all because i disagreed with you on one thing. not even disagreed, i just asked if we could wait a little more longer and you embarrassed me. you embarrassed me in front of your staff. you embarrassed me in front of quincy and bill when i asked them about you and you told them that you were too busy. yeah right, too fucking busy to check in on your fiancée!”
you didn’t even realise that the whole time you were shouting in his face, michael has been standing there with his hands behind his back with his head down.
he lifts his head up, removing his dark shades.
“you’re not breaking the engagement.” he says, his voice ten octaves deeper than his normal pitch.
you throw your hands up in frustration. “so after all i said, that’s what you have to say? after six fucking weeks of you not speaking to me, that’s what you decide to say to me?” you laugh, in disbelief. “michael i actually can’t believe you. but yes, yes we are done.” you start to twist your ring off of your finger but michael’s hand quickly reaches out to grab onto your wrist.
he pulls you towards him, so you’re flush against his chest.
you look up at him, your eyes filling with tears.
you blink them away, refusing to cry in front of him again.
“well i don’t want us to be done.” he mumbles, pushing your ring back down onto your finger. “i was mad. i was upset because i just wanted the world to see the amazing woman that i want to spend the rest of my life with. so im sorry for shutting you out, and im sorry that i took it out on you without communicating, but one thing i’m not going to allow you to do is walk away from me.”
you try and snatch yourself out of his grip because that was the most shittiest apology you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“baby.” michael says, pulling you back into his chest. “i said i was sorry.”
“i don’t care. you hurt me. you hurt me in the worst way possible and you think that stupid apology is going to work?” you scoff at his ridiculousness.
“i was angry and i just needed time to think.” he says, his grip loosening which gives you a chance to step back from his hold.
“time?” you say, your eyes narrowing. “one night is considered ‘time’. maybe a couple days, but six weeks michael? i called you every single day and you refused to answer. i cried myself to sleep every night, thinking that you hated me. i even called you on your birthday.” your lip quivers at the thought, and nothing could’ve stopped the tears that now start to fall down your cheek.
you start to openly sob, your heart clenching so tight that you’re convinced death would be a better feeling than what you’re feeling right now.
michael steps forward to embrace you in his arms and you hate yourself for the way you clutch onto his jacket, crying into his chest.
“shhh.” michael whispers into your ear, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your head. “i’m so fucking sorry for leaving it this long.”
“you hurt me so bad.” you cry.
“i know.”
“i hate you.”
“i know.”
“i hate that i still miss you every single day. even when you hurt me.” you hiccup, pulling away from his hold so you’re looking straight into his eyes.
“i missed you too. it’s just, after i got over the fact that maybe you were right to wait a bit before we realised our relationship to the media, i just got told that me and janet got nominated for scream and… and i got so busy with the multiple interviews and the rehearsals for my performance that if i did try and reach out to you it would’ve gave us away.”
you shake your head, your makeup probably a hot mess from your tears. “if you really wanted to fix things with me you would’ve found a way to contact me without the media detecting us.” you sniff.
“i know. and ill make it up to you, i promise baby. it wasn’t meant to happen like this.”
you shrug, stepping back from his embrace again. “i’m still hurt mikey, and just because i love you that doesn’t mean the wounds aren’t still open.”
“i know.” he says softly, stepping forward. “but just give me this one chance to make it up to you. i don’t care if it takes a month, a year or ten years from now. i just don’t want us to be apart for that long again.”
you look up at him, taking in the utter beauty on his face. the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes and his hands clenched tight like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing onto you again.
you bite your lip, hating the fact that you’re about to fold after weeks of telling yourself that you’re going to hand him back the ring and move on with your life but you can’t help the way your heart yearns for michael.
“okay.” you nod.
“okay?” he questions, probably shocked that you didn’t try and argue with him.
“okay.” you shrug. “i forgive you but i sure as hell won’t forget and if you ever,” you take a step forward so you finger is pressed to his chest. “ignore me for that long again then i just may cut off your dick and feed it to you.”
michael’s hand instinctively goes to cover his groin.
“i won’t do that again, i promise.” he says, before letting out a loud sigh. “and also because janet basically threatened me when we were on stage.”
you laugh at his words. “good. you deserved it.”
“i know.” he sighs, dropping his head in defeat.
you grab the collar of his jacket. “now come here.” you say, before you pull his lips to yours.
michael doesn’t waste anytime, pushing you against the door and bunching your dress up around your waist.
“i missed this.” michael says against your lips, lifting your leg up so it’s wrapped around his waist.
“you could’ve had this if you didn’t ghost your fiancée.” he smashes his lips against yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you moan when you feel his hand rub your cunt through your thong.
“im sorry. im so fuckin sorry baby.” he whispers, peppering kisses down your neck as he pushes your thong to the side and slips a finger inside of you.
“shitttt, you’re so fucking tight.” you hold the back of his head, letting out a whine at the thickness of his finger inside of you.
“it’s been so long.” you pant.
“i know. i need to stretch my baby out so ill be able to fit.” he pushes another finger inside of you, curling them so they hit that one sensitive spot.
“ahh— fuck. that feels so good.” you moan, pulling his lips back onto yours. you let out another high pitched moan, when you feel him add a third finger.
he uses his thumb to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.
“im gonna cum.” you grab onto his shoulder, not caring that you’re probably scrunching up the material of his expensive jacket.
“no.” you whine, when he pulls out his fingers and places them into his mouth. he groans at the taste, “fuck baby, you taste so good.”
you pout, undoing his pants just far enough so you can free his cock. “you didn’t let me cum.” you say, when he hitches your leg back around his waist and lines himself up with your entrance.
“baby i need to feel you cum around my cock.” he lets out a deep, guttural groan when he pushes inside of you.
“fuck. ive missed this. ive missed this so much.” he pulls down your dress just far enough so he can suck onto your boob.
you moan, when he starts moving his hips hard against yours.
“you’re so big.” you cry out, wrapping both of your arms around his neck.
“jump.” michael says, letting go of your leg. you jump, wrapping both legs around his waist as both of his hands settle on your ass. he pushes you against the wall, still pounding into you with quick, efficient thrusts.
at this point you’re a blubbering mess as you feel your orgasm build up low in your stomach.
“fuck fuck fuckkkk.” you scream, from the intense pleasure.
“tell me you’re going to cum.” he growls, his hands tightening on your ass so he can manhandle your body to drop you down onto his whole length.
you can’t form words so all you do is nod. you clench, feeling the overwhelming pleasure of your realise.
“shit, im about to cum baby.” michael moans, dropping you down even faster. you hide your face in his neck, as you just let him fuck you like you’re his own personal fuck toy. at this point, you’d love to be.
“godddd— fuckkkk.” you hear michael groan in your ear, pushing you down on his whole length as you feel his cock pulse inside you and the feeling of his seed filling your womb.
you both pant against each other, refusing to break apart.
“that was… the best sex… we’ve ever had.” you pant.
michael places his hand on the door, using it as an anchor to keep him standing.
he sets you down on the ground gently, as you immediately look around his dressing room for some tissues so you can clean yourself up.
you can’t believe you’ve just had sex when there’s literally celebrities right next door.
“i can’t believe we just had sex in public.” you laugh, wiping yourself with tissue and making sure that there’s no bodily fluids on your dress.
“neither can i.” michael scoffs, buttoning up his pants.
just as you two got yourself somewhat presentable, the door bursts open, revealing janet.
“oh my god, there you two are. i was looking for you everywhere.” she says.
you and michael stand there completely frozen. you have never been so grateful in your whole damn life, because if you and michael took any longer, his own sister would’ve walked into you guys having sex.
“are you guys okay? did you sort out everything?” she asks, leaning against the door.
you cover your face in embarrassment. janet has no idea that she is standing in the exact place, her brother just fucked you at.
“we’re fine.” michael says quickly.
“okay.” janet nods. “well just to tell you that the award show is over now and everyone’s starting to go to the after party.” she closes the door but not without giving you a weird glance.
oh she knows.
she definitely fucking knows.
“oh my god.” you say, looking up at michael with wide eyes. “we nearly got caught.”
michael lets out a loud laugh. “it’s okay. we didn’t get caught.”
“yeah but we nearly did.” you sigh, placing a hand on your beating heart.
“anyways,” you start. “i need to go to my hotel room and change so we can head to the after party.” you start to walk out, even though your legs are a bit shaky from the brutal fucking you just endured but you freeze when you realise michael is not behind you.
“what?” you ask.
“you want to go to the after party? together?”
you give him a smile, “yeah.” you nod. “i think it’s time to let all these women know that you’re a taken man.”
michael bites his lip, looking you up and down like he wants to fuck you again.
“i’m never letting you out of my sight again.” he says, grabbing you by the waist, and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“you better not.” you laugh. “because i won’t be so forgiving next time.”
and with that you both leave the dressing room hand in hand, preparing for your future of being in the spotlight as michael jackson’s soon to be wife.
sequel - running up that hill
extra AN: guys im sorry if the smut is shit or if i forgot to tag anyone. this is the longest fic ive ever done and mama is tired.
thinking about virgin!michael being lowkey clueless with a side of shy when he’s between your legs—hard as a rock looking down at your obvious aroused pussy that’s leaking onto his sheets and he has no clue where he’s supposed to stick his “thing”.
“baby .. where is it supposed to go?” dazed with arousal you reach in between your legs to grab michael’s dick to guide it to your entrance.
Yeah sooo who making the colored (black) section of the fandom on here cuz I’m sick of us getting called “black bitches”, being told we should be lynched, that Michael didn’t like us and all types of shit. I’m over it. It’s exhausting and atp I’m all for fucking segregation in this damn fandom lol. Cuz apparently when we get told nasty ass shit like that we supposed to smile and respond nicely like a bunch of jackasses and I’m just not gonna do that sorry! Tone police me idgaf I’m not being nice cuz a lot of y’all claim to be fans of this man but don’t even like to accept that Michael was black! Bitch if yall were real fans I wouldn’t even have to type this shit out!
But yeah🤷🏾♀️I’m done let’s get the all black section made please and thank you!
I'm so glad you asked! Here are the dishes we'll be serving soon!
What a Dork! — Sub!Jermajesty x Meanie!Reader (smut) (requested)
- Y/n is assigned as Jermajesty's lab parter. While she'd rather be doing anything else, she figures the best way to learn is hands on.
Twinnem — Jermajesty x Reader (Smut) (Requested)
- Jermajesty comes home with a new tattoo and Y/n's got new piercings.
Big Boy — Randy Jr x Gf!Reader (Smut) (From the Dome)
- Since you began dating, Randy has put on some happy weight. He doesn't feel as good about himself as he used to. When he starts to shy away, you show him that you love his body exactly as it is.
What The Fuck is That? — Toxic!Jermajesty x Reader (Headcanons) (Requested)
- Y/n walks in the house with frizzy hair and a mark she can't quite explain. Jermajesty is anything but calm about it.
Remind Me — Jermajesty x Toxic!Reader (Smut) (Requested)
- Jermajesty knows you're bad for him. God, does he know. But every time he leaves, it's like withdrawal sets in and he's back in your clutches.
Birthday Girl — Jermajesty x Reader (Smut) (Requested)
- It's y/n's birthday, and Jermajesty makes it one to remember!
New Addition — Invincible!Michael x YoungerGF!Reader (Smut)(Requested)
- Y/n has been avoiding Michael for about a month. When he finally gets ahold of her, he notices something nestled on her tongue. Y/n spills the beans about her new piercing, and Michael's curiosity blooms.
Switch a Nigga Out — Jermajesty x Reader (angst) (Multi-Part) (Requested)
- Y/n loves Jermajesty, more than anything, but somethings gotta give. She's tired of playing games with him, and decides enough is enough. Jermajesty doesn't sweat it at first, but when he's all alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling in his bed, he has only one thought. Is it too late?
4633 Hayvenhurst Ave — Perv!otw!Michael x Reader (Smut)(From the Dome)
- Michael notices someone moving in across the street from him. She might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen. By his appearance, you'd never guess he'd be thinking about how many ways he could turn her out before the sun goes down. He'd also like to take her to dinner, but he isn't partial about what comes first. Chicken? Egg? He'll be eating either way!
Summary: The flights seem long when you’re making plans of deviance.
Era/Pair: History/Mature Era!Michael x SuccessfulCEOBlackfem!Reader
Tags/Warning: Eating disorders; Fluff and Smut; Masterbation; hurt/comfort; Chubby Michael; improper weight loss; TLC; pet names-mama, Bambi, mommy- is used; angst with a happy ending; fighting with Michael
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Four months went into getting the production together. He spent it running like a machine. Michael made sure everyone was as tight as possible. He watched from the fan pits and again, from the back of the stadium just to be sure that everyone could see or, at least, hear the show. The time that he spent was worth it. Michael wasn't completely satisfied, but he was pleased enough to see his notes being put to use, as it was the only time anyone listened to him. All that was needed was for him to satisfy himself in practice; the issue is that even he doubted that would happen. Instead of feeling more alive and energetic, he moved sluggishly. Of course, no one else says it, but he knew what was happening. He knew that he was slowly deteriorating.
Michael looked out the plane's window, taking in the fluffy clouds as they soared through the sky. They were on their way to Moscow, the first stop of the tour, and he was more anxious than usual. One, there were many things he and the crew needed to fix musically before the first show, and there wasn't enough time to fix them all. Two, he hated flying, and though he wasn't by himself, that didn't make him feel better, as he was less alone and lonelier. It was an odd, suffocating feeling, and three, he only weighed 140 pounds right now. He knew you were going to freak. He was sure that losing this much weight so quickly wasn't normal. However, the praise he was getting told his mind otherwise. He was just worried about how you would react. He knows that you love him and that you didn’t really care about his body. You worried more about what you couldn’t see: his mindset and emotions. Those were the dangerous parts, and he knew it was getting worse by the day.
Luckily, he's been really good about keeping his mouth shut over the phone. He's a little proud of his acting skills being put to use but disheartened to say that they've been doing wonders against you. He's even perfected the art of rerouting questions. Michael never did well in interviews, but for you, he tried his best. In fact, you had stopped asking whether he ate at all and were now just assuming he was eating and being healthy. Michael even became good at faking his tone, so you couldn't tell if anything was wrong.
The only time he's slipped was whenever he said he missed you.
Without fail, his voice would choke up, breaking as if his soul was clawing its way to the surface in order for you to save him. He swallowed down every plea that got stuck in his throat. He wanted to be with you so badly.
He gave a bitter smirk when an Iliad quote flashed before his eyes. “There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible magic to make the sanest man go mad…”
Yet here he was, stuck on a flight that was moving even further from you and feeling exactly like that. Feverish with lovesickness and be on the cusp of going mad.
A tap on his shoulder pulled him from his darkened dreams. "Michael, I hope you enjoy this little break because you start your training again when we get to Prague," Josh, his personal trainer, said playfully.
Michael gave a fake grin and nodded, glad that his sunglasses were on so that Josh couldn’t see the disdain. He didn't know why they were still making him train. It didn’t matter, though; he was beyond the point of questioning it. He just wanted this to be over. He was dying to have a real meal and sleep.
Once while rehearsing ‘I Just Can't Stop Loving You’, his new backup singer slipped him a small sugar cookie. He almost cried when he found it later in his pocket and silently promised himself to give her some extra cash when he saw her again. He guarded his pants like a starved paranoid wolf all day until he could hole himself up in his room, sitting on his bed, staring at it for what seemed like hours. Envisioning how good it would taste. He knew that to make it last, each bite had to be controlled, but that ended quickly after he took his first bite in worship. Michael ate like a desperate man at sea, something that he would regret later as he spent that night rolling on his hotel bed from the pain. His stomach rejected the cookie after he had lived off celery, cucumbers, eggs, and water for weeks.
After the battle with his stomach, he could only crawl back to bed. His hands shaking as he gripped the plush pillow, all he could do was turn his face into it and scream. With his tear-dampened fabric, Michael clawed at the bedding, his chest feeling so tight that he thought he was about to pass out. He bundled his shirt, patting his chest as he sat up, only to make himself dry heave. No matter what he did, it was as though the tears were just coming harder. It wasn't until he was being shaken awake the next morning that he realized he had just cried himself to sleep.
Michael’s mind was reeling with a hurricane of thoughts as the clouds outside his window seemed to get thinner. He felt like he was spiraling into a dark hole. He didn't want to admit it, but he really felt like he was losing his mind. He knew the only thing keeping him from crumbling was you and the need to be perfect for his fans. That's why he couldn't lose you. This play that he's created has to go on; you could never learn the truth. Michael planned everything to perfection while on the plane. He would tour and try his best to keep all news of the tour away from you- something that was easy to do, he had connections after all. Then, after the tour was done, he would simply gain it all back and present himself to you like the lovesick fool he was. You would smile brightly as he returned, showering him with the love and attention he craved from you, and then you two would live out the dream.
The plan was foolproof.
He even worked out the timing and fantasized about how you would look and what you would say when you saw him. He swore he could feel your arms around his neck, your body pressing against his own as he inhaled your comforting scent.
Michael sinks into his chair, losing himself in his daydream, trying hard to grasp onto the small paradise that was his mind. Truth be told, he is mentally exhausted, even cringing as he lays his hands in his lap. He hates his body more than ever, and now his own touch seems foreign. He misses his plush thighs and the way his tummy bulged just a little. He misses how you used to rub his aching body with lotion after a long day and how you fed him. He misses how tight the clothes used to be. He couldn't even wear the clothes you packed him anymore, all his favorite clothes- favorite memories- were taken from him and thrown away by his too-happy trainer and a jackass of a manager. Gods, it was like the world was trying to take his happiness from him. He snarled as he thought about how even his clothes were controlled by them. He couldn't even be creative with his wardrobe. Most of Michael’s daily wear has been reduced to his standard plain white tee and his red corduroy button-down shirt. All he had left was his music, but come to think of it, they wouldn't even let him perform the ones he wanted.
'Fan's choice,' they claimed. Michael knew his fans better than anyone. He was the one who heard their cries, their aspirations, and their wants. He knew that they were tired of hearing the same few songs each tour. This wasn't the fans' choice. This was just a push for his album. Company choice.
He sighed as he swore that each day, he was growing more and more numb. He still had another 6 months to go with these people, and while he loved some of them. He is ready to return to a time when he could do as he pleased, including being with you.
You were not able to see Michael before he left for the Czech Republic. You tried to make it in time, telling Michael that you wanted to see him while he had some downtime before boarding the plane. Michael insisted that you stay home so you wouldn't stress yourself out worrying about schedules.
You did find it a little strange that he kept talking in circles about you seeing him. He spoke of everything in riddles, and that was when he even gave an answer. You were starting to get annoyed with him, especially since he knew you preferred him to just speak his mind. The more you talk, the more it becomes apparent that he was avoiding something and that you should have gone with him on that tour. It’s clear that you were both suffering. There was not a day that you were not worried about Michael. Bill is kind enough to give you updates on the progress of rehearsals, but they were vague, with only small hints as if Bill were trying to push out a message.
Now the tour was officially about to start, and you felt as though your relationship was starting to see cracks in the foundation. Michael was no longer communicating. All your calls were being routed to his manager, who dismissed your concerns.
“I just need to speak with Michael.” You pleaded on the phone.
In the background, you could hear the sounds of grunts as others seemed to be shouting out. The voice was definitely Michael, but you didn’t have time to figure it out as his manager could be heard walking out of the room into a quiet area. “Michael said that there are a few things that he needs to do.” His voice dropped into a snide before continuing, “You know that Michael is busy. Why don’t you call back sometime later?”
You immediately start doing breathing exercises as his condescending tone rings in your ears, “This is later. You tell Michael to call me immediately when it gets back to his room. I mean that.”
It was this phone call that made you understand that your worries were more than just imagination. It was also the last time that you heard from Michael until you arrived at the hospital.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Nerdbf!Jermajesty x Black!Fem Reader ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
Nerdbf!Jermajesty x Black!Female Reader
forewarning: 18+, minors DNI, fingering, clit stimulation, established relationship, mild spoilers to Jujutsu Kaisen
a/n: this is longgg overdue. in honor of getting 300 followers, I decided to give you guys something I wrote for the nerdbf!jermajesty trope. ngl I think I got a bit carried away. Inspired by this post. divider -@cafekitsune
Being Nerdbf!Jermajesty's girlfriend, you get to hear him nerd all the way out. You loved hearing about his interests, especially when he talked about anime and manga. You liked your fair share of mangas and animes, but his love for anime and manga was on a whole different level. You guys would talk about anime all day everyday, whether you were lounging around in your living room, late night rides, text messages whenever you had a break at work. You loved hearing him talk about his passions and hobbies.
You especially loved hearing about his love for anime when he is fingers deep in your pussy. It was one day in particular, where you were on the couch, sitting on Nerdbf!Jermajesty's lap as a random documentary played on the TV, neither of you paying attention. Jermjaesty brings up Jujutsu Kaisen, an anime he’d recently started watching to relieve you two of bordem. “Baby, I’m only on episode four and I’m already in love,” he spoke his chin on your neck. You giggle at how nerdy your boyfriend could be, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.
Nerdbf!Jermajesty would start to get handsy, his hands cupping and kneading your breasts while talking about his interests, causing you to close your legs tightly as you feel arousal pool from your core. Noticing how much you’re moving, Nerdbf!Jermajesty scoots back farther to the back of the couch, using his hands to push you softly against his chest, his nostrils filled with your coconut scented perfume. He would continue on summarzing the episode while casually sliding off the articles of clothing on the lower half of your body, leaving your bottom half bare.
“This episode is really the three first years rescuing inmates,” Jermajesty commented as he spreads your legs open. You gasp softly as the cold air hits your core. Jermjaesty hands reach to touch your core, lifting his hand and staring at it in awe as he sees how wet you’ve gotten. “Their mission is the confirmation and resuce of any suvivors in said prison,” Jermajesty continues, rubbing circles on your clit.
“Oh yeah?” you moan quietly, still trying to pay attention to your boyfriend while dealing with the overwhelming pleasure coming from your clit. Nerdbf!Jermajesty would slap your pussy just to see if you’re paying attention, and then continue to circle your clit a bit longer before inserting two fingers into your hole.
“I mean shits crazy, if I was in a position to fight some creatures with them like that, I’d tap out,” he stated, his fingers pumping in and out of you, his free arm holding you in his lap. “Now if I had to fight them to keep you out of danger, I’d fight to the death for you, pretty girl.” You moaned loudly at the nickname, feeling your legs start to shake as his finger pads hit your sweet spot.
“And in the end, Sukuna demands that Yuji takes back control, but he knows that Yuji isn’t switching back,” Jermajesty concluded. “You ready to come baby?” Nodding ferociously, he takes rubs his thumb against your clit as his fingers move in and out at a fast speed, causing you to squirt all over him. He doesn’t stop, still finger-fucking you as you orgasm snaps through you and your thighs shake. He loves the way you get undone in front of him, and he doesn’t mind that you’re jucies are all over him. He could make you squirt all over him for hours. Once you’re orgasm passes through, he slips his fingers out and licks them clean, grabbing your chin and giving you a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He pulls back with an impressive look, looking down at you and smiling. “So, what’d you think about the episode?”
☆*⁀‧₊˚ taglist (comment or dm if you want to be taken off!) : @ebvnydesires @mtcloudsworld @smoothcriminalgf @kitty-trash @ysl-doll @szalipcombo @michaelssugarbby @lunarexperttrace @alleycat808
your recent work got me thinking about masturbating together w otw mike and him slipping just the tip in
( ˶°ㅁ°) !! 0.8k, nsfw ) otw!michael jackson x fem afab reader <3
cws: nsfw, mutual masturbation -> tip-sex (?), they're both loser virgin idiots, sort of dom!michael but it's real slight
his eyes are half-lidded, his lower lip bitten red as he watches your fingers slide in and out of your soaked entrance. the room feels hotter than ever, the product of both the movements of masturbation and the fact that you're both still mostly clothed. chastity is a funny thing between you and michael. he's never seen you fully nude, but he's had phone sex with you; never sucked along your tits (as much as he wants to), but he's sure enough watched you and even asked you to pinch and palm them. chastity and sex are two words whose definitions you and michael keep changing. and to think just a few months ago, you felt too shy to even let him hug you from behind...
his legs are spread a little less than yours, but your poses mirror each other as you sit on his bed, quietly panting and moaning. both of you have a hand between your thighs, his pumping himself fervently while yours fingers your pussy and toys with your already-puffy clit. eye contact is a rarity because your eyes keep rolling back and closing, something michael can only view as endearing as he continues observing you. in the few moments where you do manage to meet his eyes, his cheeks grow all hot, somehow more embarrassed about the eye contact than the fact that you're actively watching him jerk off. "don't look at me like that," he manages softly, shaking his head, a hesitant grin spreading along his face.
your brows furrow, fingers slowing temporarily as you try to focus. "like what?"
"you know how," he mumbles, squeezing his length just to make himself grunt. through half-lidded eyes he looks at you, admiring. then, through red, barely parted lips, he adds, "like you want me to do more."
"more?" you ask, genuinely curious through the haze of your arousal.
your boyfriend pauses opposite you, gliding his thumb over his cock's tip. pre-cum smears as he does it once, twice, thrice; you swallow, fixated on the sight of michael's glistening head. "it doesn't count if it's not all the way in, right?" he blurts, giving voice to what both of you are secretly thinking. after blinking, he goes on, "just a little bit in, baby. i won't go too far. i won't touch you, it'll just be this much." with his index and thumb, he measures, highlighting the size of his tip. "it doesn't count... right?"
"i..." your brows furrow, your eyes closing again momentarily. there's a part of you that definitely knows the answer is yes, it absolutely does count. there's a larger, louder part of you that really could care less if it does or doesn't, all too eager to finally feel him near you, in you. "just the tip, mikey?... it doesn't count, no."
"good," he whispers, crawling closer with zero hesitation. michael grips your wrist, gently moving your hand from between your thighs as he lines himself up. "tell me if it hurts."
the insertion is slow, almost unbearably so, all hesitant and careful because michael can't stand the thought of accidentally hurting you. your breath hitches as you feel his head slide past your folds, stretching you more than your fingers ever could, making room for itself in your heat. just like before, you struggle to maintain eye contact, and, just like before, you're all michael can look at, his eyes ravaging the outline of your figure through your clothes since he's closer, now.
"how does it feel? good?"
you sigh out a breath, nodding your head, "different. but good. don't move, baby, just stay like this..."
the curve of his lips turns dangerous as his smile becomes a smirk. quietly, he teases, "i'm bigger than you thought, huh?— oh— oh my—" his face contorts, eyes clenching shut as he stifles a moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around his tip. "oh, baby..."
neither of you last long with his tip in, honestly. all it takes is a shift of his hips, a few fumbling, horny movements between the two of you, and michael's scrambling to pull himself out while you're whining about how you miss him inside. his cum lands along your bare left thigh, dribbling down onto his bed as your own orgasm causes your pelvis to jerk, your eyes rolling, your lips parting for a rather passionate (rather incriminating) moan.
"goodness, baby," michael manages, moving to hover above you as he clasps one hand over your mouth, "you gotta be quiet." he pants softly, dick limpening somewhat pathetically as the two of you try your best to silently collect yourselves.
"sorry, mikey," you apologize into his hand after calming down, batting your lashes unintentionally as you peer up at him.
you're glowing post-orgasm, all sweaty and somewhat dazed... michael swallows, brown eyes soaking in the lazy, content expression on your face. keep looking at him like that and you'll definitely be getting more than the tip next time!
looking for more?
we not fucking but he put the tip in or whatever. gif in the top by /kvtnisseverdeen (as far as i know)! i think this dynamic is cute, really, like it can be kind of embarrassing b/w him and reader bc theyre loser virgins but they're loser virgins together... i think that's just so cute.
𝓽𝔀: mentions of smut, fingering, making out, super short.
𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: lowkey got a case of writers block💔 i’m tryna fight it off, this is ass but whatever. excuse any mistakes!
This content does NOT contain AI and may not be used to train AI.
definitely wasn’t lurking through jermajesty’s instagram🌚. but that picture sent my head spiraling lowkey.
imagining you and jermajesty spontaneously planned a trip in the middle of the night to the Swiss Alps. the day time temperature didn’t bother you as much as the nighttime temperatures. at first, you were freezing, your finger tips and feet were ice cold, you already had the heat set to 83 and wrapped up under two thick blankets. your constant motions of shaking woke jermajesty out of his sleep. “mama, are you still cold?” he lazily turned on his side to face you, eyes halfway opened. words could barely form in your mouth, so the only thing you could do was nod—bundling up under the covers even more. jermajesty stared at you before a genius idea popped off in his head. “I know how to warm you up.”
when you first heard his words, you thought he found a cute way to keep you warm—a stupid fool you were for thinking that. it was all a blur to you, at first you were under the covers shivering like a two dollar bill in the wind, now you were in Jermajesty’s lap struggling to kiss him back as three of his fingers pumped in and out of you curving at your g-spot. you couldn’t help but to let out loud moans that were muffled from jermajesty tonguing you down. a thin string of spit connected between you two when he pulled away from the messy makeout, his chest falling and rising at a fast motion. “look at my baby taking my fingers so well.” he cooed at you, voice dripping with sleep as he bent down to give sloppy kisses on your neck—a flash of heat bloomed throughout your body at his words and how his voice dropped an octave when he’s half sleep. “majjj, fuck—so good.” your words came out in incoherent babbles as his finger dug deep into you. “I know baby, I know.” his other hand wrapped around your neck applying gentle pressure as he began to pull you in for another makeout, but his unexpected movements made your eyes roll back sharply as you clenched around his fingers, thighs shaking softly.
“you about to cum already baby? go ahead, but I’m not stopping.”
you definitely were going to get more than what you asked for at this rate.
