about me: hi i’m kami and i am 20 years old, i am a softball player and wrestler, and i have 2 cats i love dearly!
requests: CLOSED
masterlists ⇩⇩
the outsiders
life is strange
uconn wbb pt. 2
outer banks
juju watkins
1k celly
lsu wbb
alysa liu
michael jackson (masterlist coming soon)
fandom(s) i am currently writing for: michael jackson
rules of requesting ⇩⇩
from now (06-04-26) to whenever i stop writing fanfics, reader will always be plus size! i barely ever see representation for plus size women in lots fandoms, so i am taking it on myself to do it
will write: smut, fluff, homophobia (if it’s based in the 60s-80s there will be homophobia) racism (same as homophobia), angst
wont write: sexual assault, incest, death, pedophilia, bodily fluid kinks (besides dacryphilia or cum)
pairings ⇩⇩
will write: girl x girl, girl x boy, threesomes
wont write: boy x boy (not bc im homophobic or anything, i just don’t know how to write for it because i am a woman), anything higher than 3 people in a relationship
the plump fat of your ass had lightly bumped up against the steering wheel of michael's baby blue rolls royce, the sound of the horn making you jump.
michael sat in the driver's seat, chair all pushed back and his pants hastily shrugged down to the middle of his thighs. you sat on top of his lap, like a princess. the bottom of your small dress was getting pushed upwards as he rested his hands on either side of your hips, lightly bouncing you up and down onto himself.
"want the whole damn block to hear?" you breathed out, brows furrowing.
he barely even heard what you were saying though. truthfully, his attention was fully focused on your breasts bouncing out of the silky, pale yellow blouse you had decided on wearing that day. he'd undone most of the buttons and he was trying to get you out of it completely.
you had the faintest tan lines poking through where your top had shifted from swimming at the pool the day prior. your tan lines had to be one of michael's weaknesses, no matter how much he tried to deny that to his brothers.
"c'mon darlin'," he said breathlessly, rolling your hips on his lap once more as he rested his head against the headrest, "i wasn't tryna do it on purpose, you know that."
your manicured nails toyed at the curls at the nape of his neck, your lips forming into a small pout, "you'll wake up my father."
you were supposed to be home twenty minutes ago, and technically you were!
the two of you just happened to get a little side tracked while you were stopped around the corner from your house.
michael reached his face up to attach his lips to your neck, thumbs rubbing on your waist.
"mm," he groaned against you lightly, "i'm not too worried about him."
michael's reputation made him impossible to dislike, but you had a reputation too. everybody in encino knew you, but they knew your father too.
which meant everybody knew his rules. the biggest one being that his daughter wasn’t dating anybody.
so despite being one of the most recognizable people in the world, michael somehow found himself sneaking around like every other lovestruck guy in the valley.

you scooted back down his thighs to free his dick from under you, your hand reaching to stroke it as michael sighed right into your collar bone. the heat from his mouth made you grind against his thigh, a small whimper leaving you as you clamped your lips together, so desperate to keep quiet.
the thing is, your father actually liked michael. he thought he was polite and well mannered. an all around good kid.
you thought the same too.
you loved the way he always thanked you after you make him cum.
໒꒱ and what if i say i wanna make this into a cutie little series..
making thriller!michael feel soo good during sex that he sheds a few tears:
── .✦
your hips would be moving in a relentless rhythm as you rode him, your hands braced against his chest as you felt the rapid thumping of his heart under your palms.
michael's head would be rolled back against the headboard, his jaw clenched hard. his hands would lock onto your hips, knuckles turning white from how hard his fingers dug into your skin.
"can't...oh god," he'd whimper, his voice raspy. a high, desperate whine would slip from him every time you hit that perfect sweet spot. he'd be so overwhelmed by it, his head spinning from the feeling of your body.
when you'd look at him, his eyes would be squeezed shut, his long lashes damp and clumped together. tears would gather at the corners before a couple eventually slipped free, rolling down his flushed cheeks.
and if you asked him if he was crying, he'd immediately hide his face behind his hands. you'd reach up and gently pull them away.
his eyes would be all glassy and doe-eyed when he'd looked up at you. he'd glance away in embarrassment, only for his gaze to drift back to yours. he just couldn't look away from the sight of you.
he'd reach up, one trembling hand finding the back of your neck as he pulled you down into a messy kiss, whimpering and whining into your mouth as he held you close.
his whimpers would pitch higher as he came in hot spurts while clinging to you. the sound would break off into shaky gasps while his body trembled.
you'd slump forward over him afterward, both of you trying to catch your breath. his face would drop to the crook of your shoulder, hiding there as his breathing slowly steadied. you’d run your fingers through his curls, gently playing with them while he stayed tucked against you as another tear slipped free.
yearning michael please, maybe him and the reader get into a argument or something? idk i kinda want him to beg.. like the lady in my life🧍🏾♀️.
the lady in my life.
thriller m. jackson x reader. anon provides half the context. thought i'd do something where you and michael have been in a relationship for a few months, and this was one of the first big arguments you both had. it transpired from how you could never see or spend time with him. there was always something, and it didn't help that the papers were showing him at all these parties.
michael's busy schedule is easily misunderstood by both of you. michael can't help but stand a little in the wrong; he should've communicated better with you. the second you threatened the likelihood of continuing your relationship like this, you've never seen him beg like how he did.
what an argument you two are about to get into. this drabble primarily contains established relationships, arguments, angst and a whole lot of misunderstandings, begging/desperate michael trying to convince you to stay, if you squint it's a hot mess with love beneath it.
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Michael's career peaked in today's world. Thriller gained traction, panning all the spotlight on Michael. In the midst of it all, you never failed to show up as Michael's biggest supporter.
Those late nights he'd come home, tiptoeing past the side of the bed while barely getting a wink of sleep, you could start to feel the shift of urgency within him. His days began to fall into a rudimentary routine of getting up, getting ready, and leaving.
Some days he wouldn't get the chance to say bye, just a simple kiss on your forehead and a few voicemails on the phone.
You understood where Michael was coming from. It wasn't easy being in his shoes.
Even after Thriller's release, Michael never took a rest in the studio. He focused on the future, which is what put a strain on your relationship. When you two did see each other, Michael seemed too exhausted to carry on a conversation.
"I'm sorry, baby...I'm just exhausted."
Michael didn't use that as an excuse. He meant it. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, so you leaned close every single time with a warm reassurance.
You would've been lying to yourself if it didn't sting just a little, though.
Of course it did.
In its own natural way, tension like this made for bitter, reactive moments. Michael would oftentimes come home in a bitter temper if the day wasn't in his favor.
You understood where the frustration stemmed from, but you couldn't help but feel all sorts of emotions.
It's as if Michael erased himself from your life, cocooning himself in a brand new imagery of what career spanned in front of him, while you were left in the dirt. That's the difficult part that struck you.
You weren't worth all of that.
It wasn't until your concentration turned to the press. Michael bypassed it, strongly so; he'd reiterate that to you over and over again. It always made you laugh, but staring at the paper in your hands at the sight of Michael's attendance at all these parties.
Those same nights, he kissed your forehead and told you he had to go somewhere. You figured the studio, somewhere to do what he usually did.
Not parties. Even if they were for something contributing to his career, it just felt so odd that he never told you these specifics anymore.
It made your stomach twist with apprehension.
──────────────────────
"Michael?" You shouted from the bedroom, the open door permitting you to hear him rustling around in the kitchen.
No response.
Furrowing your brows, you stepped towards the doorframe and leaned into the hallway.
"Michael!"
Reiterating, you heard the same old rustling stop. Stepping down the hall, you stared at Michael in the kitchen, staring down at an apple in his palm.
"Michael, why aren't you responding to me? Are you ignoring me or what?" before you had the opportunity to finish, Michael glared at you. That expression struck you a little; he seemed aggravated.
"I'm not ignoring you."
The bitterness that came from him made you cross your arms over your chest. How could he speak to you like that? No matter the stress, it appeared incredibly uncalled for.
"Why are you acting like this? You're so goddamn rude all of a sudden. I don't know what's gotten into you or what. But it's nothing like,"
Michael cut you off, which made your blood boil. Before he had the chance to open his mouth, you raised a finger, shoving it in his face. "I don't care! I don't, Michael! Do you understand how terribly you've treated me in the past few weeks?"
You couldn't help but laugh. Michael's eyes were wide, watching how your body quivered while you yelled.
In the heat of the moment, it all made you feel like you really didn't deserve this. None of this push-and-pull.
"I don't need to be around somebody like that!"
Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes. You hated admitting that. It pained you. You were probably just saying things to say them. Michael's expression softened, brows furrowing while he pursed his lips shut.
"No, baby, I'm sorry, I just," Michael stammered for a second, avoiding your eyes.
"You what?"
──────────────────────
Michael couldn't help but feel shame deep in his core. The past few weeks have gone by so quickly for him. He didn't stop to think about how slow they must've gone by for you.
Staring at you with eyes that brimmed with guilt, Michael shook his head. "I didn't mean to treat you like that." He spoke slowly, watching your precise movements.
You were starting to lose that trust in him. As if the next sentence was just a reason for him to do it all over again when things got this way. Michael could tell he was losing you. He was losing you, and he would regret it.
Regret it forever.
Michael's hands trembled as he advanced to brush his fingertips on your arm.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to treat you like this. None of this. I don't know why I'd do this to you. You don't deserve this, baby. None of it. Please believe me,"
You let him speak. Evading his gaze, you stared at the tile.
Sucking in a breath, Michael nearly choked on his spit with how fast he was starting to speak.
"Please, baby. Believe me. I'm sorry, I promise I won't treat you like this again."
Before you had a moment to think, Michael's hands delicately cupped your face, prompting you to tilt your chin up to look at him. That was when you felt tears cascade down your face, staring into his eyes without any aversion.
You didn't hate him. Nothing would bring you to hate him. He adored you more than anybody. These things happened.
"I'm sorry, baby. Please...I don't know what was in my head. It's not you, it's me. I don't want you to go. M'nothing without you, I should know that."
Those words brought a bittersweet smile to your face, and you sniffling. Michael's thumb wiped the tears from your flushed skin.
Without this, there wouldn't be opportunity for growth.
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ugh, anon. this is perfect. i might make multiple parts.
CONTENT: giving off the wall!michael a blowjob, both inexperienced, short but sweet, subby michael if you squint extremely hard, fem!reader
AUTHORS NOTE: Okayy I don’t even go here but michael has been heavy on my mind lately so I had to get this little brabble out. don’t bully me too hard, i hope you enjoy!
you had gotten to hayvenhurts in the late afternoon, with just enough time to soak up the last bit of sun by the pool. you sat on the edge of the pool while michael swam around, entertaining himself in the water, giggling at him every now and then.
when the sun had set beyond the rooftop and trees and michael had tired himself out from the pool, you both decided to move inside.
now you were here, still in your swimsuit laying on your stomach at the foot of his bed, towel wrapped around your shoulders. you had grabbed a magazine off of the night table which you flipped through lazily. sighing as your fingers traced the printed images.
the usual hum of music filled michaels bedroom. as the last bit of sun crept through his windows orange shadows were casted over the carpet.
michael stood in front of his dresser, leaning forward slightly as he dried his hair with a towel. he was shirtless, standing only in his swim trunks, droplets of water running off his body, landing on the plush carpet under his feet.
“you’re soaking wet” you said, chin resting in one hand, eyes wandering across his toned body. you just couldn’t help yourself.
of course you found him attractive, but that was a moral boundary you wouldn’t cross. he was a good friend. only a friend. and you were certain he didn’t see you that way either, so you never got your hopes up.
“yeah…” michael gathered the towel he had been using and draped it over the corner of his dresser, turning to face you, “i should change.”
his eyes traced over your body, your lower half exposed from underneath the towel. As much as he tried to stop them, his eyes wandered over the curve of your hips and over your ass.
your bikini had ridden up just enough to expose a soft tan line, which was enough for michaels breath to hitch. he felt his cock twitch at the sight.
He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet, running his tongue over his bottom lip. he couldn’t help his growing erection and quickly turned his body to face away from you.
“go ahead, I’ll close my eyes.” you dropped your head onto the quilt, holding the magazine up as a barrier between his enticing body and your hungry gaze.
the temptation to sneak a peak at his gorgeous figure grew as you heard him shuffle out of the wet swim trunks.
michael pushed his trunks down over his hardened cock, fabric clinging to his damp skin. he was hard enough at this point that just the small amount of friction caused a high pitched sigh to escape his lips.
your heart fluttered as you heard the pretty sound leave his mouth. the temptation to lower the magazine growing. you wanted to see him. you wanted to touch him. you wanted to feel him.
he wanted to feel you too.
“i-“ he spoke before cutting himself off and clearing his throat again, “can i ask you something?” his voice was soft, gentle as if he was worried someone may hear him.
“yes, michael. anything” you paused, grip tightening on the magazine, the corners of the pages crinkling from your fingers. you waited a beat and when michael didn’t respond you asked him, “what is it?”
“have you ever… done… anything before?” his weight shifted, he grabbed the towel back and wrapped it around his waist.
michael crossed the room and you felt his weight on the edge of the bed next to you. that’s when you dropped the magazine, meeting his gaze.
“what type of anything?” a smile threatened its way onto your lips. you knew what he meant.
“anything… you know..” he looked away from you, breaking eye contact. he was too embarrassed to speak while looking at you, “sexual, with someone?”
your eyes widened, not in judgement, but in excitement. anticipation. wonder.
you shook your head
“no,” you leaned your head close enough to him that he couldn’t break your gaze off again. you knew he hadn’t, but you decided to reciprocate the question, “have you?”
he shook his head no, shifting his weight slightly. his breathing got heavier and his heartbeat got faster.
“no..” there was a short silence, one that allowed unspoken words to flow between the two of you. he swallowed hard, “i think that i want to.”
your heart began to race as your eyes traveled down his body to the bunched up towel that lay over his crotch, ineffective in hiding his boner.
“im sorry” he said quickly, covering himself with his hands. he was visibly embarrassed, cheeks turning a rosey shade of red.
“no,” you laid your hand on his wrist, sitting up to kneel towards him. your towel falling off your shoulders and down your back, pooling around your feet. “don’t be sorry”
his eyes met yours, conveying silent desperation. he needed you, he was just too shy to ask.
“you’re real pretty” he said bashfully, almost at a whisper, turning away looking down at his hands in his lap.
you smiled in response, your checks blushing pink. your heart fluttered as he searched your eyes for words.
you looked down to his hands over his crotch, his eyes following yours. a silent signal for him to lift them for you.
he removed his hands, placing them on either side of his legs.
“michael” you cooed softly, “do you want this?” he nodded, his hands moving to cover his face as he blushed intensely.
“can i?” you asked as you reached closer to the cloth covering him. he nodded, his bottom lip now caught between his teeth.
you carefully removed the towel, revealing his swollen tip, precum already leaking out.
“oh… mikey”
that name made his heart do a flip. he waited impatiently as he felt the heat from your mouth grow closer.
“please” he breathed out, practically begging.
you nearly gawked at this view. michael, ready and waiting. trusting you enough to take care of him well for his first time. you felt the heat pool in your core, repositioning yourself to get closer to him.
it was true, you had never done anything like this before. but in the moment it felt like second nature.
you obliged his needs as you wrapped your fingers around the base of him, squeezing gently and michael moaned in response. you placed a gentle kiss to his fuchsia tip and a soft moan slipped past his lips.
you dipped your head down as you ran your tongue along his length, taking him halfway into your mouth when you reached the top. he was far too big to fit all at once.
his head lulled back and his hands dropped from his face to the top of your head.
he wasn’t guiding your head, just holding you, as if he needed something to ground him back to reality. he fisted a handful of your hair, tugging lightly as you continued working you mouth and started working your hand up and down.
“Oh.. god..” his bottom lip quivered as his eyes rolled back slightly. you looked up to meet his gaze, eyes hooded and glossed with lust. he let his eyes fall closed as his breathing got heavier, “baby..”
you hummed in response, sending a wave of pleasure through him.
“fuck” he sighed leaning back onto his elbows. he shimmied farther up the bed, allowed you room to move between his legs.
he watched you as your worked your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip.
you couldn’t have been great, it was your first time, but the noises that michael was making told a different story. his body writhed beneath you, whines slipping past his lips, gipping onto your shoulders hard enough to make marks.
he never knew something could feel this good, he was experiencing pleasure he couldn’t imagine.
michael whined as he bucked his hips up, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. your mouth was so warm and wet, he almost couldn’t take it.
you took the queue and swallowed around him, gagging as he hit the back of your throat. your own pleasure building as you felt him submit to you.
you looked up to him. his eyes were screwed shut, mouth slightly parted and damp curls clung to his forehead and his head was thrown back.
michael mumbled something between a moan and your name under his breath, but you were too lost in your attempts to please him to figure out what he said.
for a moment you accidentally grazed the underside of his cock with you teeth, but that seemed to only add to his pleasure, shivers running down his spince.
he was getting closer and closer as you bobbed your head at a quicker pace, taking more of him in.
“i’m.. fuck..” he panted out, body twitching beneath you. your gripped his thighs to hold him still, “‘m close” he finally got out.
you hummed in response once more, sucking harder. you had never tasted cum before, but you wanted to taste him. he already tasted so good and you wanted more. you wanted to swallow all of him.
michael tried to push you off of him, warning you that he was going to cum, but you didn’t budge. his hips bucked up and he reached his climax. his hands entangled in your hair as his cum covered your tongue, humming gently, coaxing the last of his orgasm out of him.
when you finally came up for air you pulled off with a lewd pop, his cum coating the corners of your mouth. you smiled, meeting his eyes.
his chest heaved as he panted, coming down from his orgasm. you massaged his thighs as you let him recover. he had seen stars, and was finally coming back to earth.
“was that okay?” you asked sincerely, licking your lips and swallowing the rest of him. he was delicious.
michael nodded, reaching out to grab your chin, gently pulling you onto his chest.
“more than okay,” he said, running his hands down your shoulders and over your body, stopping at your waist, “is this okay?”
you nodded with a smile at his gentleness. you wanted him to touch you. he wanted to repay the favor.
he gently shifted from underneath of you, turning you onto your back as he positioned himself between your legs, a shy smile creeping onto his face.
“can i?” he asked as he leaned closer to your core. you nodded in response.
hiii omg pls could you do a nasty fic about michael’s pussy inspection kink ughhh mature era michael having you bent over his lap as he takes a look at your pussy BYEEE
M.JACKSON MATURE ERA .𖥔 ݁ ˖
summary : you are michael are shopping at an luxury mall!
warnings : smut, inspection kink ( f receiving! ) , fingering ( f receiving! ), brat tamer if you squint, short aftercare!
a/n : anon I’ve been thinking of this request ALL MORNING, literally squirming in my bed
you were looking through a rack of robes meanwhile michael was the the dressing room, trying the millionth silk button up. he rented out the mall for friends and family so everyone was scattered around different shops. in this store it was just you, michael and security guards, who were laughing amongst themselves at the entrance door. this luxury store was huge and technically you both had a lot of privacy which you weren’t complaining about at all.
you were adorned in a dress and heels, although you were starting to regret this because your feet were hurting. you and michael had been cooped up in the house since he’s on break from working, you just needed to remind yourself what you looked like dolled up! every flip through this rack was pissing you off all you wanted was a pastel pink robe, but it seems like you were only finding plaid print. you huffed before, hearing your husband giggling at you poking his head behind the wall. “what’s so funny?!”, he covered his face laughing harder. “I’ve been watching you yank through clothes for five minutes, we can just go to another store baby”
you playfully rolled your eyes, “come here love”. walked towards him a pout appearing on your glossy lips, as you laid your head on his chest. “what’s wrong?” , “I just wanted a new robe!”. he titled his head, “we have the entire day to shop you’re being a brat”. he pecked your forehead, “help me with this shirt”. you entered the spacious dressing room, it had a couch along with a… bar?, anyways you closed the curtain your freshly manicured nails clasping the last button. michael closed the grey curtains behind you, “it’s kinda cosy in here”. you grinned taking in the environment, michael was now in front of the mirror. “hm? oh yeah it is very nice.. very beautiful”, you walked behind him pecking his shoulder running your hands on his chest.
“do you want something from me?” he asked softly, “no just looking at you”. he turned around picking you up in his arms, you both eyeing yourselves in the mirror. “how about now?”, you giggled kissing his cheek. your dress had rode up exposing you being bare underneath, luckily you were one, behind a curtain and two, had privacy to really do whatever you wanted. “you’ve filled out here”, you playful pinched him. “hey! I meant it in a good way, you look good”, he earned a glare from you. “I noticed it yesterday when you were wearing those pajama shorts, I felt.. like a creep”. you laughed, “michael I’m your wife you can look at me”. he slowly spun back and forth rocking you, “I know I just never really paid attention you’re very pretty”. you blushed your skin redden more when you suddenly thought back, to what occurred in the limo an hour earlier.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
you were sitting crossed legged against the burnt orange velvet seat of michael’s new limo, although today was family day this was the one private transportation you and michael will be riding in. he just wanted to kiss you with no interruptions. the privacy window was up and he recently had this soundproofed. he pulled you into his lap per usual rubbing his hands all over your thighs. his mouth was now resting at your ear, “you know I need to check down here”. he pointed just above your clit, immediately making you slick at the thought. “how about when we get to the mall?”, he briefly thought about this before agreeing. “okay but.. lift your legs a second”, you obeyed his fingers cusping around the band of your panties pulling them off. “this way I can see how you would actually look”, he placed your legs back down, pulling your dress back into place.
now you were over his lap on the couch. your dress might as well be up your back , with how far he’s tugged it up. “you’re drenched all between your legs”, he laughed. “you’re the one who took my panties!”, he spread your legs out a little more. “I did it so I could see it on your thighs not the fabric”, the fact that you two were in regular conversation, goes to show how normal this is for you. “move your leg a little further out”, you obeyed as he spread your ass apart. you throbbed around nothing as he started to peel your labia, his calloused thumb adding vibration. “looks good in here, I just need to make sure your nerves are working right”. he cupped your gummy inner and outer lips together with one hand, thumping his middle finger up and down repeatedly on your leaking flesh with the other.
this made you whimper not quietly though since nobody was near you two,”you’re doing a good job, let me check a little more”. he raised you off of him for a moment laying back onto the couch, “turn the opposite way”. you straddled him backwards your pussy now close to his face. “much better I can see all of you now”, he pushed one finger into your entrance curving it slightly. you mumbled a few moans, your head was leaning against his bent knee. “seems warm in here that’s good”, you felt another finger added a slimy build up of wetness coated his fingers. “almost done”, you whined in impatience he was doing this extremely slow on purpose.
“faster..” he ignored your request you let out a cry in annoyance. “I’m doing an inspection you can wait until we are at home… so it’s done the proper way”, he removed his fingers leaving you feeling empty. he kissed your hole before gently shifting you off of him. your arms were folded as you were now sitting normally on the couch. “stop pouting sweet girl”, he lifted your chin cupping your face. “how about we buy you something pretty and I’ll make love to you at home deal?”, you nodded michael pecked your forehead. he fixed your clothes once again reaching for your hand, you felt a gush of cum attaching its self between your legs with every step. as you exited the clothing store, michael looked for the nearest vending machine to get a bottle of water, just because you were out doesn’t mean aftercare went out the window.
a/n 2 : sorry this ended up being more of a drabble! 🥹😭
✴︎ summary ➔ You and Michael have been dating for the past two years. He’s perfect, and your relationship is perfect, but when the press suddenly releases a particularly nasty headline about your body, you can’t help but start to silently spiral. One night, before bedtime, you accidentally reveal your insecurities to Michael. It leads to a much needed conversation.
✴︎ contains ➔ established relationship, reassurance for weight gain, light angst, crying, weight issues, negative press/tabloids, fluff, no smut, physical touch as a love language
✴︎ a/n ➔ my first michael fic!!! i’ve seen this damn movie 4 times in theaters already and i’m starting to run out of money lowkey... but the good news is that the king of pop’s fine ass dragged me out of my 5 year writers block so… WOO! i might be a lil rusty so go easy on me forreal i’m coming out of retirement. handwritten by me shawty
3.7k words
1987
When you and Michael started dating about two years ago, the very first thing he warned you about was the press.
Hell, he outright refused to date you at first because of the press and they’re meddling.
The two of you met at your job at the animal shelter, when Michael came in to spend time with some of the animals. He was very shy, but said hello to each worker one at a time nevertheless. The two of you locked eyes before he actually reached you in the line you and your coworkers had formed, and when he did reach you, his small smile grew bigger. He visibly inhaled through his nose as he shook your hand, his thumb caressing the skin there.
“Are you wearing perfume?” He had asked. You still remember the way his gentle voice curled and flew around you like wind upon hearing it up close for the first time, and the way your stomach did that loopy thing that usually only happens when you drive over a hill or something.
Your free hand reached up and absentmindedly grabbed at your necklace as you processed his words, a habit you didn't even notice you had. The necklace was a dainty, gold plated chain with a small sun charm. It was something cute and cheap that you found at a market, something that seemed good quality.
“I am," You nodded, "My friend gifted it to me for my birthday, I don’t remember the name. It’s something fancy.”
The two of you continued to hold each other’s hand, despite the handshake having been long over. “Something fancy,” He repeated. He looked down at his feet for a moment, then scanned his eyes up to land on your lips. Then your eyes.
He smiled. “I like fancy.”
Your instigating coworkers demanded that you be the one to give him a tour of the whole place after that.
Alone, the two of you walked throughout the entire building as you lead him to some of the most precious animals. You introduced him to a three-legged kitten, who he laid on his stomach to pet, and even taught him how to handle the shelter’s most energetic dog, an Australian Shepherd bamed Lucy. You and Michael ended up on the floor, Lucy’s wet snout excitedly sniffling back and forth between your faces. When she sniffed you, paused, then snorted the biggest inhale either of you have ever heard in your lives, you both fell into a loud fit of laughter. Through your wheezing, you giggled, “Animals are truly the best friends.”
It was then that Michael’s interest in you set off like a lit firework fuse. Looking over at you, he agreed nonchalantly, but you felt the energy there. It felt kind of fuzzy, and you liked it.
He didn’t revisit in person again after that day, as the fans would definitely crowd up the shelter if he did, but he had begun to consistently send in donations. Money, food, toys, supplies. You name it and he’d send it.
He’d also send letters for you. It started friendly, and actually remained that way right until you gave him your phone number. Something changed between you after that.
Or maybe it was always there, and electrified even more the night he first called you. It'd been late at night, and you sat on your balcony, looking up at the moon as you both spoke to each other. It started as a silly conversation, before blooming into something flirtatious. Something deep and raw and real.
He took you out on plenty different kinds of dates and remained a gentleman the whole time, showering you with a type of affection you’ve never received before. Honestly, you were starting to doubt that men like Michael existed before you met him.
Then, right when things had begun to really take off between you both, the press decided to bite.
It was a cruel release. A bunch of bullshit words about Michael’s face and skin, littered all over the media. You reminded him that the tabloids didn’t know anything about him. That they’d photoshop and twist every little thing they could to fit their fake stories. You told him that you knew him, saw him, and liked him for him.
He broke it off with you anyways. Plain and simple, like all the letters, calls, and dates meant nothing.
Unfortunately for him, however, you had different plans. Stubborn as ever, you glued yourself to the door before he could leave and forced him to talk to you about what was going on. You knew he wouldn't be able to move you without getting forceful, and if there's one thing Michael's NOT, it's forceful.
You begged him, through your sobs, to tell you what he was feeling. It was unbearable for Michael to watch you cry so desperately, especially since it was because of him. He admitted that him attempting to leave wasn’t out of malice or because of a lack of attraction. It wasn’t even because of what the press would say about him.
It was about what the press would say about you.
He tried leaving you as a way to protect you, but it's always been impossible for you to stay away from each other, and after a long life of always doing things to avoid the media, you pleaded with him to finally do something for himself.
He warned you, seriously, that the press were a bunch of blood-sniffing sharks. That if they learned you were with him, the two of you would become a package deal, and they’d try to tear you apart in any way they could. He drilled it into your head as best as he could. You didn’t care.
Two years later, and you still don’t. Not really.
You’d deal with the press again and again in every lifetime if it meant being with Michael. He’s kind, sensual, and attentive; exactly what you’ve dreamed of in a boyfriend since you were a little girl. He devotes a lot of his time towards you, surprises you with extravagant gifts, and does silly little things that make you feel like you’re floating every now and then like forcing you to slow dance with him under the chandelier near the staircase. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
But sometimes when you’re alone, on the nights when he’s out preforming or working or whatever it may be, it’s hard to ignore what the world has to say about you. And lately, they’ve had a lot to say about your body.
You’re not as skinny as you used to be. Certainly not as thin as when you and Michael first met. But he loves to take you to dinner and surprise you with meals and treats! Of course you were gonna gain a few extra pounds, it was sort of inevitable! You try reminding yourself that this is a natural part of life, and that the press doesn’t know what they’re talking about when they make stupid, hurtful comments about your hips and thighs.
A specific headline jumps out to scare you in your own head. “Michael Jackson’s fat and unlovable girlfriend.”
…Ouch.
Insecurity slithers in the core of your chest and tightens around your soul like a snake. A terrible feeling settles underneath your muscles, like it plans to stay there. It does.
“Ay Mike!”
Jackie’s voice booms outside of Michael’s bedroom door in Hayvenhurst, causing both you and Michael, who’s tidying up his room before bed, to jump in shock. It tears you out of the spiral you were going down and snaps you back to the present. “Is the ice cream in the freezer for your lady or can I have it?”
Michael turns to look at you from where he’s putting a couple of shirts away into his dresser, one eyebrow raising in a silent offer. His button up shirt is hung open, showing off his chest and abdomen. From where you’re seated on his bed, using your handheld mirror so you can wipe your makeup off, you bite your lip. The idea of ice cream makes your stomach rumble, a sudden craving for it rising inside of you. You’re sure it’s your favorite kind, the Jacksons always have your favorite ice cream in stock.
A voice in your head forbids you. “No, thank you, I’m alright,” You decline.
Michael nods, but before he can give Jackie the go-ahead, you babble, “I gotta lose some weight, anyways. 'M gettin' fat.”
There's a pause, stillness blanketing the air.
Then, both Michael and Jackie, who is still on the other side of the door, bark out an astonished "Huh?"
You glance between your man and the bedroom door, slowly lowering the hand that’s holding up the mirror. “What?” You ask.
“Why would you say that?” Michael questions.
You swear your brain short-circuits, and when you realize what exactly you just said, you curse yourself internally. “Well, you know…”
A small frown grows on Michael’s lips after a moment and he shuts the dresser drawer with a smooth, single slide. “Well I know… what?”
Heat crawls up your spine in the most uncomfortable way, embarrassment sinking deep beneath your cheeks in a crimson blush. You frown at the bedroom door.
Michael doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he calls out to his brother, “Leave the ice cream, please.”
You look back into your mirror and nervously continue to take off your makeup, dreading the conversation that you’re definitely about to have. The sound of Jackie’s retreating footsteps echo in the room before it goes perfectly quiet.
Michael’s just looking at you.
You fumble around with your makeup cloth for a couple of seconds under his intense gaze, anxiety cascading down you like boiling water. You know he’s thinking about what you said, and you so did not plan on talking about this today.
Michael approaches carefully as you’re wiping the contour off of your cheek, placing both his hands on either side of your legs on the bed. He slightly hovers over you with a gentle smile. “Baby?”
You look at yourself closer in the mirror to avoid his stare. “Hm?”
“Can you look at me?”
“I’m taking off my makeup.”
Michael reaches up and clutches your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your face to look at him. “Look at me, mama.”
Your heart skips a beat when your eyes fall onto his concerned ones, the peck to your lips that he gives you doing nothing to help the palpitations. “‘M looking at you,” You reply in a mumble, “you look good.”
He chuckles and removes his hand from your chin, placing it back down next to your leg. “So do you,” he says, starting to caress your knee. “My gorgeous girl.”
You frown, placing your things down onto the nightstand by the bed. You’re not sure why Michael's compliment feels like a strike, but you flinch like you’ve been slapped. Gorgeous girl.
Were you? Were you really?
Curling into yourself, Michael notices the way you deflate and moves to sit beside you. His hand pulls you in by your waist. “Woah, woah, hey,” he calls gently. “What is it, baby? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, nothing, I’m sorry,” You apologize, huffing dramatically, “I’m being so stupid.”
You cover your face with your hands, exhaling sharply to keep your sudden tears at bay. It’s as if the moment someone asks you what’s wrong, something triggers inside of you and you break down. Forcefully squeezing your eyes shut, you will yourself to get a freaking grip.
Michael’s voice cuts through your foggy thoughts. “No, you’re not being stupid,” he reassures. The rich smell of his fragrance feels stronger now that he’s closer. In the back of your mind, you’re amazed by how long it’s lasted on him. “Will you please just look at me?”
Your teeth clench as you drag your head up, and when you see Michael’s stressed face you feel ashamed. He looks lost, confusion swimming in his eyes. Confusion that only intensifies when he sees your tears.
You feel your heart shrivel up inside your ribcage as your guilt eats away at you. You know, deep down, that he deserves to know what’s going on with his girl. If things were reversed, you’d sure want to know what was going on with him.
“The press- they... called me fat. And unlovable,” You hear yourself confess.
The sentence comes out of you on it’s own, punching through your chest with a kind of force that makes your lungs sore. You watch as Michael’s eyes widen a fraction before shuts them calmly, as if he’s trying to regain his composure. He moves one of your hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles as you continue speaking. “It wasn’t just that. They, um, used a lot of other names and words too. I just- …that’s what it all pretty much summed up to.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” He sighs, opening his eyes again. “If the press can’t even show respect towards someone as lovely as you, I think it’s safe to say that anything coming out of them is a lie.”
You nod once, weak and unconvincing.
He pins you with a look so genuine and loving that it makes your stomach do that same loopy thing it did when you first met him. “And you know that, right? You know that you’re perfect as you are?”
You shrug. His words feel nice, like warm sun rays on a breezy day, but your insecurities can’t be so easily washed away.
“Pretty.”
You grunt grumpily. “What, Mikey?”
He leans in close, a few of his dark curls falling in front of his face. He looks down at your lips, at your blush-dusted cheeks, your cute nose, and scoffs. “There’s no way you- …you don’t actually believe what they’re saying, do you?” He asks incredulously.
The pent up anxiety thrumming deep in your bones paired with his disbelief makes you shoot up from the bed with a burning, humiliated look on your face. “And what if I do, Michael?! I mean, you’re everywhere! Everyone loves you, they want to see you with someone who- you know- you could have anyone--”
“I don’t want anyone but you,” Michael interrupts sternly. He’s sitting on the bed with his hands in his lap now, observing you as you begin to pace back and forth. The gravity of the situation seems to have finally hit him.
Your hand moves to absentmindedly grab at your necklace, this time an expensive pure gold chain with a diamond encrusted sun charm. It’s quite the upgrade from the one you bought at the market, and you haven’t taken it off since Michael had it made for you. “You deserve to have a girlfriend who’s… in your league, Mikey. Not some random that stuffs her face with ice cream and multiplies in size by the week.”
Michael’s hand shoots out to snag your wrist when you’re close enough, and he yanks you in, forcing you to stand between his open legs. “Don’t talk about yourself like that,” He demands. The words are wrapped up in love, carried by the gentleness of his breathy voice, but there’s something bone-chillingly sobering beneath it. A no-nonsense tone that makes you bite the inside of your cheek, dropping your head down to look at the way his fingers are locked around your wrists. “Do y’hear me?” He nudges.
Tears free themselves from the corners of your eyes, and you sniffle pathetically. “I’m- I’m not as skinny as I was when we met,” You whisper brokenly. “I don’t look like that girl you first wanted anymore.”
Michael exhales slowly through his nose and shakes his head. His hands move to the front of your thighs, where he then slides them up to your hips. It’s almost as if he’s trying to memorize all of your curves with his fingers.
“Mama…” His voice drops impossibly softer. “It wasn’t your weight that I fell in love with when I met you.”
You try to wipe some of your tears away with a shaky hand. “Then what were you attracted to?”
He tugs you in and kisses at your navel over your brown pajamas. “I fell in love with the way you laughed,” He chuckles, squeezing your hips in his hands. You smile shyly. “The way you talked to and treated the animals. Called ‘em your friends.”
You bury a hand in his hair, toying with his curls while the fingers on your other hand trace the side of his face.
“And, you know I fell in love with you all over again when you heard my album for the first time. You’re so cute when you dance,” He flirts playfully. You roll your eyes, a wet laugh coming out of you despite how you’re feeling. Hearing Bad for the first time in the studio with Michael was one of your favorite memories.
“Well, so are you,” You sass.
Michael grins and lures you down so that you’re straddling his lap. “I’m serious, baby. You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever been blessed enough to see.”
You wrap your arms around his neck intimately, falling into the way he holds you closer. Your body feels so warm against his.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The sensation of Michael's hands touching you all over makes you light headed. “I usually don’t care what the press has to say. I don’t know why this time it… felt different,” You say. You can feel Michael’s sadness in the way he places a gentle kiss against your collarbone.
“I spend my whole life with people tellin’ me what I should fix,” he responds. His hands flatten and settle at your lower back. “My face. My body. My personality. Everything. And I know…”
He trails off, sighing out a deep breath. “I understand what happens after a while. You hear so much terrible stuff from the world and one day it starts soundin’ like your own thoughts.”
You don’t know what to do with the devastated look on his face, so you just hug him. Burying your face into his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him and mentally face-palm. Of course he’d understand. Michael would understand more than anyone.
“There isn’t an inch of you that I’m not in love with,” He continues. “It doesn’t matter if you get heavier or thinner, sick or old. You’re my girl. I love you, mama.”
You feel so much. So much you can’t even speak, and you flatten your lips together in a thin line as you try your best to hold off a new wave of tears. It’s been two years, but hearing him tell you he loves you still doesn’t feel real. It feels like it did the first time he whispered them against your mouth in the dark, nervous and breathless.
Your brain and heart slow down into a patterned, easy rhythm, and your anxiety finally steps aside to let you breathe. It takes you a few minutes, but you eventually dig your head out from where it was stuffed into the crook of Michael’s neck.
“I love you, too, Mikey.”
He smiles, playfully gnawing at your shoulder. “I’d sure hope so, girl. This would be very awkward otherwise.”
You grant him a small, cute grin, toying with his button up. “And thank you for taking me seriously, baby. I’m sorry I’m so emotional.”
Michael shakes his head and takes ahold of your chin again. “‘S okay to be emotional,” He coos. He doesn't even think about it before he says it.
And just when you start to crave his kiss, he presses his lips against yours, effectively washing away any leftover pain aching in your chest. You melt into him, into the way he lightly groans into your mouth, and into the way he tilts his head to kiss you deeper.
He only stops long enough to take a breath before finding your mouth again like he’s addicted to it. “I can’t believe you even thought for a second that you weren’t attractive.”
Tilting your head, you ask, “Is it really that hard for you to believe that I could be insecure?”
“Uh, yes,” He answers pointedly, a lovesick smile stretching across his face when you start to mess with his curls again. “You’re Mrs. The Way You Make Me Feel. The pretty girl behind the song.”
You roll your eyes, failing to stifle the happy smile he brings out of you. You jokingly push his face away with your hand. “Sap.”
Michael only shoves his nose into your palm in response. A goofy, mischievous beam paints across his handsome face, and he starts to sing, “You knock me off of my feet, now, baby--”
“Mikey! I swear--”
He does his signature howl with full energy, making you squeal and basically fall over to the side with laughter. He falls with you, joy dancing in his eyes.
“It’s almost midnight and you’re being so loud like that!” You whisper-shout at him, still giggling. He’s got this smug, satisfied smirk on his face, so you poke at his chest. “Your family is sleeping! You could’ve woken up your mother!”
He cuddles you closer, until you’re almost laying on top of him, then turns your head to the side to drink in the smell of your skin by your pulse. He doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he just continues to kiss around your face, content to lay in silence with you.
Much later that night, after every last word is done being said, your head is tucked beneath Michael’s chin as the two of you lay tangled under the bed covers.
A calmness rocks within you. You feel ten times lighter than before. Michael’s fingers move up and down your back lazily, slow enough to make your eyelids heavy, and you’re thankful that your mind isn’t running at 60 miles per second anymore.
The bedroom is completely dark except for the distant glow of the world outside. In here, a different level of safety envelops you, one that only you and him can touch and feel. The cruel words from all of the tabloids and headlines still exist somewhere out there, but not in here.
Not when it’s just you and Michael.
You let your eyes flutter shut, your head on his chest. All the worries about the world and what they have to say about you seem so small compared to his steady heartbeat in your ear.
“I’ll still want the ice cream tomorrow,” You sleepily inform him.
Michael chuckles, scratching at your scalp lovingly.
Summary: Michael is obsessed with you and you know it all too well.
Or where Michael sucks at hiding his tiny (gigantic) crush on you and you have fun with it.
Warnings/tags: shy!thriller!michael, some fluff, suggestive content, mention of oral s*x, f*ngering, the reader is bold and confident. MINORS DNI.
Word count: 800+
A/N: Wanted to write something short and sweet after the last long ass one shot I posted lmao. Reblogs and feedback is GREATLY appreciated!!
Previous one shot.
Michael was obsessed with you.
His obsession was so intense that it scared him.
He loved how your skin glistened in the sunlight, how your hair fell down your back, how your nails were always polished pink, how you smelled like vanilla every time you walked past him, how your gloss was always intact on your lips.
He dreamt about smudging it. With his fingers, his lips.
He knew he was gone the second you had walked through Hayvenhurst’s door hand in hand with Janet, giggling about something together.
He felt guilty for fantasising about his little sister’s best friend but he couldn’t help it. He was mesmerised by your smile, your scent, your eyes. He was obsessed.
It wasn’t long before you caught onto his little crush. He barely ever had the courage to lock eyes with you but you still caught him staring one too many times.
“I like your sweater”
Michael froze, he recognised the sound of your voice. Velvet.
He slowly turned around and saw you taking out a tub of ice cream from the fridge. He had sneaked into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich at 1am.
“We are watching a movie” you said, a wicked smile on your lips, “Janet and I”
You knew you had him in a chokehold when you saw the look in his big bambi eyes. This was the first conversation and his face was pale, oh he was starstuck.
“You don’t speak?” you laughed softly.
Michael cleared his throat then, “I do”
He internally giggled at the words that just left his mouth, god knows he was already writing his wedding vows in his little notebook that was tucked away under his pillows.
“Good, someone’s gotta sing” you smiled, leaving the kitchen. You didn’t look behind but you knew he was looking at you.
This first encounter was 3 weeks ago. Long, painful 3 weeks for Michael. Small talks were made but he was always at a loss of words when he would converse with you.
You teased him a lot. Wearing short skirts whenever you visited Janet, biting your lips mid conversation with Michael, complimenting his hair. You mostly did it because it made his checks red and because you enjoyed making him stumble over his words, a broken ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth with every flirty compliment you passed on.
“I thought you liked me” you said, once again crossing paths with Michael in the kitchen in the middle of the night.
“I do” he said quickly, almost dropping the bread.
“Then why haven’t you asked me out yet?”
The question caught him off guard. His mouth opened but no words escaped it.
You slowly walked over to him, biting your lips making him melt. He was a puddle in your hand.
“I think you should take me out to dinner” you stated softly, your eyes flickering to his lips just for a second.
“Please” he whispered.
You raised your eyebrows, a confused look on your face.
“I mean, yes, yes I will” he said, straightening up his posture.
He was red in the face, short of breath and his palms were sweaty. He wanted to die, in your arms.
The first date was now 5 weeks ago. Lovely, blissful 5 weeks for Michael.
And you.
Sneaking around, hand in hand, running up the stairs so no one can see you two together. Soft kisses pressed against your lips, giggles passing mouth to mouth.
He loved the way you held him, the way you touched him, the way you kissed him. He was shy but needy. Timid but whiny. Needed you to guide him but as soon as he was hot enough, he would relish you.
He was gentle and generous, would make you cum with his mouth before you would even have the chance to unbuckle his belt.
He was possessive. No one knew you were with your best friend’s older brother so every time you came over to meet Janet, all the other Jackson brothers would come by and say hello in the most flirty way.
Michael hated it. He made sure you knew who you belonged to that very night.
“Why can’t we tell them” he whined as his fingers softly brushed your entrance.
He had almost started crying when you entered his room. He hated his brothers for flirting with you and he hated the fact that he couldn’t tell them to back off.
Before you could answer, his fingers were dipping in you. And they were rough, he wanted you bad.
“You’re mine” he said through clenched teeth as his eyes watered from frustration, almost making it sound like a threat.
You held his face in your palm, your thumb quick to wipe the tear that escaped his waterline, “I’m yours, Michael” you breathed out, struggling to keep up because that’s just how good his fingers felt inside you.
As you threw your head back, he realised that he loved the way you moaned his name like it was a prayer. You were his goddess and your body a religion that he worshiped every chance he got.
God, he truly was obsessed.
A/N: wanted to make this a blur with like 500 words and it still stretched out to 800+ words oof.
If you liked this, please consider reblogging/liking/commenting below, it really helps! :)
Also, I’m looking for my MJ moots so you know what to do mwah mwah
thriller m. jackson x reader. this is just something that's been on my mind. i love me a good sick comfort thing. the funny part is how michael really walked himself into this situation. sick with a cold, you intentionally kept your distance from michael.
all his pampering led to him falling in the same shoes a few weeks after. you told him to stay away! established relationships, fluff, mentions of sickness/germs, comfort.
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the environment hung with sweat, sickness, and dread. scattered remnants of tissues that missed the open trash can and empty water bottles littering the carpet. you felt utterly defeated in this state.
michael insisted on staying with you. he'd try to counter your protests with how he never gets sick.
in reality, he couldn't stand the sight of you on the bed, moping.
the sounds of your coughs, sneezes, and groans from outside the bedroom made him ache for you. knocking, michael opened the door with a bowl of soup in his hand.
hey, baby. you feelin' okay?
michael's voice softly drew you to his presence, prompting you to shift up on the bed and stretch your arms forward. slowly blinking, you rubbed your palms down your face and shook your head.
hurts, gotta headache...is that soup?
pushing the blanket off your chest, michael's hums soothed your mind while he nodded. undeniably, michael saw how distraught and uncomfortable you were.
it made him sick to his stomach, he hated seeing you like this.
sitting on the edge of the bed, a warm hand caressed up your arm, then to your hand, interlocking your fingers.
mmm, yeah. chicken. you take your medicine?
michael leaned close, a habit of his to talk close to your face, barely brushing the tips of your noses together. furrowing your brows, your lips curled into a pout before you patted him on the chest, swatting him back.
m'sick, mikey! germs spread quick.
scoffing, you sniffled and shut your eyes. god, your head hurt so bad. as much as you wanted to wrap your arms around michael and pull him close, you knew that wouldn't help you or him.
michael set the bowl on the nightstand, rolling his eyes playfully at your little outburst. he knew better, but his love transpired over logic right about now.
aw, c'mon. you don't want a lil' kiss?
grinning, he got all close to you. about to shove him away, michael grabbed at your hands, interlocking your fingers and holding them down.
achoo!
michael flinched, face twisted with disgust.
i told you!
michael erupted into a fit of laughter, a cocky smile on his lips.
won't stop me,
michael's lips curled into a smile, hands brushing the sides of your cheeks to bring you in for a kiss right on the forehead, then cheek, and lips.
you tried to purse them shut, absolutely knowing damn well he'd regret doing this every single day you've been sick.
i miss you, baby... what's so bad about that?
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about that.
michael's palms were dragging on his face over and over, grumbling in disbelief that he'd truly gotten sick. he loathed it. all the sweat, sneezing, and sore throats had him stressed to the max.
of course, you were with him every step of the way at a reasonable distance.
steeping warm teas, spoonfuls of honey, and home-cooked meals, all to make him feel better.
michael couldn't help but flare his arms to you each time you loomed beside him while he relaxed on the bed. flashing him a glare, you raised a brow.
uh-uh. you know what happened when you did all that to me!
rolling your eyes, the sound of michael groaning in defeat made you giggle to yourself a little.
i'm gettin' better! can i have one kiss?
passing him a mug filled with warm, peppermint tea, you sighed and sat beside him. reaching for michael's hand, you pressed a delicate kiss to the back of his palm.
love you baby. you'll be fine with me not all over you for a bit, i promise.
with a light giggle, you caught how michael frowned for a second, soon to sigh out with a milder expression.
love you, baby. just you wait, after i'm all better i'll be all over 'ya.
you'd never have a problem getting used to this.
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this had me cackling while writing bc michael come on now. sighs and shakes my head.
smut [✗] @mjspyts for smut-specific requests . . .
to make things easier, please specify any preferred eras so i know what photos to grab!
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˚ ࿔ masterlist 𝜗𝜚
🍰 [full fics]
thriller. the girl is mine. one. two. you and michael bump into eachother in the midst of all the promotional work. you can’t help but grow incredibly attracted to him solely from how kind he is.
thriller. the lady in my life. one.
🍦 [drabbles]
off the wall. it's the falling in love.
off the wall. a day at the pool.
off the wall. three mins 'til showtime.
off the wall. tree climbing and whatnot.
off the wall. dancing in those heels.
off the wall. portraits for me?
thriller. lots of bubbles in the bath.
thriller. i told you that you'd get sick!
thriller. have you been hiding your talent?
thriller. disney date!
bad. flaunting.
bad. damn press.
bad. jealousy between stars.
dangerous. a nice massage.
mature. date night is always packed with sweets.
mature. you just love to spoil me.
mature. bathtime with love.
mature. spoiled and loved.
mature. suggestive. you love playing games, don't you?
🧁 [headcanons]
off the wall. you can't not know how to dance.
thriller. photography.
dangerous. time with and without you.
dangerous. spoiled and loved.
mature. princess treatment.
mature. murmurs.
this is such a tmi but it gave me an idea for a fic— i’ve been ran through a mattress to the point where we fell off the bed while going at it and now i wanna write a michael (idk which era) x reader where that happens and making wayyy too much noise and maybe someone knocks on the door and is like “are y’all good?”
again sorry for the tmi lolz but now i’m inspired 🚬
like imagine thriller or otw era when he’s still living with his family and you and mike just be knocking anything and everything over
michael had gone into the coffee shop since it was raining heavly. his hair was wet, bill was already complaining about standing outside, and it happened to be the closest place nearby to the studio. he wasn’t paying much attention when he stepped inside, shaking the rain from his jacket, until he looked up and saw you behind the counter.
you were decorating one of the pastries in the display case and was completely focused on what you were doing. your brows were slightly furrowed, qnd you looked cute. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, if anything, it was ordinary. but for some reason, michael couldn’t stop looking.
“michael.”
bill’s voice made him blink.
“what?”
“the line.”
sure enough, there was a line forming behind him. by the time michael reached the register, you’d moved on from the pastries and were taking orders. when you looked up, you offered him a small smile.
“hi. what can i get for you?” you said, slightly blushing since you recognized who michael was.
the problem was that michael had spent the last five minutes looking at you instead of the menu. he glanced up at the board behind you, pretending to read it while his mind went completely blank.
you must’ve noticed because you smiled again.
“take your time.”
eventually he managed to order, and you scribbled something onto the side of the cup before passing it. while he waited, he found himself watching you work. you moved quickly but carefully, thanking customers and quietly helping a little kid decide which muffin he wanted.
when his drink was ready, you handed it over with another polite smile, a small blush on your face.
“have a good day.”
it was probably the same thing you’d said to every customer that morning, but michael spent the entire drive home thinking about it anyway.
halfway there, bill glanced over and noticed him staring at the coffee cup.
“what?”
michael turned it slightly, and next to his name you had drawn a tiny heart.
bill looked at it and glanced up at michael and simply said “you’re gonna come back tomorrow, aren’t you?”
The first thing you learned after becoming Michael Jackson's assistant was that Michael was horrible at taking care of himself.
Not because he didn't know how to.
Just because he was always doing something else.
Recording.
Rehearsing.
Writing.
You weren't even two weeks into the job before you realised that if somebody didn't physically place food and drinks in front of him, he would somehow survive on absolutely nothing all day.
Which was exactly why you were currently standing in the studio doorway holding a glass of orange juice.
Not normal orange juice.
Orange juice mixed with ginger and turmeric.
A recipe you'd started making after noticing how exhausted he looked some days and how bad his lupus flare-ups were getting.
Michael looked up from the notebook in his lap.
"No."
You raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't even said anything yet, Michael."
He pointed at the glass.
"That."
"Drink it."
"It tastes weird; you ruined orange juice for me."
"You say that every day."
"Because it tastes weird every day."
You crossed your arms.
Michael stared at you.
You stared back.
Eventually, he sighed dramatically, took the glass, and drank it anyway.
"There."
"Thank you."
"It still tastes weird."
You couldn't stop the laugh that came out.
Over the next few months, taking care of him became second nature.
You reminded him about meetings.
Made sure he ate.
Made sure he slept.
Made sure he wasn't working himself into exhaustion that couldn't be reversed. (Oh Michael, if only)
Somewhere along the way, during the late nights and the earlier mornings, the line between assistant and best friend started getting blurry.
Not that either of you ever acknowledged it.
One afternoon, a few members of the Jackson family were visiting Neverland to discuss a possible collaboration.
You sat with a folder in your lap while Michael, across from you, was barely listening to the conversation.
Eventually, he frowned.
"Are you sure you wanna release it now?"
J*e looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
Michael shrugged.
"Bad might overshadow it."
"Michael, Bad came out months ago."
Michael didn't seem convinced.
"It still could."
You looked down at your papers so nobody would see you trying not to laugh.
"Tell him how many sales Bad got today."
You glanced at the report in your lap.
"Ten million."
Michael frowned.
"Hm."
"That's less than I expected."
You turned toward him.
"Michael."
"What?"
"It's ten in the morning."
He paused.
"Oh."
"Good point."
The conversation continued.
Everybody else looked so shocked. You spent the rest of the meeting trying not to laugh every time you looked at him.
Later that evening, after everybody had left, Neverland finally became quiet again.
The sun was beginning to set as you walked beside Michael through the property.
Animals wandered peacefully nearby.
The air felt cooler.
For once, nobody needed anything from him.
No interviews.
No meetings.
You looked over at him.
He looked different when he was here.
Happier.
The version of himself that only a handful of people ever got to see.
The version you'd become familiar with.
The two of you walked for a while before Michael finally spoke.
"Thank you."
You looked over at him.
"For what?"
He gestured vaguely.
The schedules.
The reminders.
"The schedules. The reminders. Actually caring when he was pushing himself too hard without even realising it. The only other person who'd ever really done that for him was Bill."
"Everything." You didn't know what to say.
You did it cause you cared, not for clout or just to say you did, because you actually wanted to, and Michael realised that, and he was so grateful.
"You're welcome."
Michael only smiled.
Not the smile he gave cameras.
A real one.
The kind that made your chest feel warm and tingly.
Neither of you said anything else after that.
You just continued walking together as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon and the bright, colourful lights of Neverland came to life around you.
Mood-Board
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otw!michael feels a little stiff when he kisses so i’m imagining experienced!reader teaching michael how to properly kiss.
“i can kiss.” he’s in the mist of defending himself, and he has every right too! but, you never said he couldn’t kiss, only that it could use some—assistance. your relationship with michael is still fairly new, the fresh experience of exploring each other mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically is the current phase the two of you are venturing. of course that exploration never truly ends in a good standing relationship, but these discoveries are new and could use some shaping.
you struggle fighting the smug curl that twitched towards the corner of your lips, “i never said you couldn’t kiss michael.”
“you said it needed work.” his tone falls flat, playfully.
he’s feeling insecure, but he knows your intentions are well. at this age he shouldn’t need a lesson on how to kiss or make out, it should be something that comes naturally to him, but unfortunately for him it isn’t. he didn’t have the privilege of exploring this part of his life, up until now anything that had to do with a woman was strictly a peck. there truly wasn’t enough free time to explore anything past that, and now that the opportunity is here, he’s feeling a little self conscious.
“it does, but that’s okay.” your shrug when you shoot him a tender grin. “don’t you wanna kiss me?”
“m’yeah, but i shouldn’t need help.”
your give him a playful roll of the eyes, wishing he’d stop sulking. you shush him, scooting yourself closer to him on his living room couch. “it might be better if i sit in your lap.”
his eyes flicker from his lap back to you, hands opening as a nonverbal invitation. hands awkwardly assist you in crawling into his lap, his large hands hovering by your sides. you can’t help but laugh and you giggling only worsens when he frowns.
“don’t laugh.”
“michael you’re so tense. relax baby.” hands gently placed on his chest before they make their way up towards his jaw. his movements are stiff, he’s not coming off as nervous. unsure would feel like a better fit of words. he’s in his own head too much, constantly wondering while simultaneously trying to figure out what you want his next move to be. when instead he should let go and surrender to moving in rhythm with you, which he can’t if he’s overthinking.
you place a soft kiss on both his cheeks, hoping the cool tickle of your lips would smooth him, and they did. you watch him steadily, lids heavy with adoration. you realize he’s trying too hard to come off more experienced than what he is, trying to impress you, show you that he’s a man. but that’s not what you need, it’s not what you expect from him either. you know his situation and even if he had a different upbringing, there’s always room to learn. it’s only kissing—at least that’s what you think.
when the two of you do kiss you’ve noticed he’ll start off fine and somewhere along the line he feels too calculated, as if he’s doing what he thinks is right and it makes his kisses stiff and clunky. it’s almost like he brings his perfectionism into your relationship, your intimate moments; which make them sometimes feel unnatural, and you wanna get him out of that.
“so now what?” the anticipation is killing him, your stare is intimidating, but in a way where he feels the need to live up to this made up expectation he’s given himself.
thoughtlessly your chin tilts, “is there somewhere you need to be?”
he shakes his head.
“then what’s the rush.” you readjust yourself in his lap, “just enjoy the moment.”
“i want it to be good.” his voice trails off and his eyes are big and glassy, lashes delicate when they kiss his brows.
“it is good, michael. it’s only a kiss, y’need to get out of your head.” the pads of your fingers tap against his temple.
he patiently closes his eyes with a tiny nod, signaling that he’ll work with you. he’ll try to get out of his way.
you watch his eyes flutter open, doing his damnest to allow his mind to clear. his eyes fall on yours and he could nearly melt beneath your gaze, a small smile naturally rests on your face; you’re giving him all the patience in the world, he has to get himself together. his hands flex at the waistband of your skirt, scooting you further up his lap.
it’s starts with a small smooch at the corner of his mouth, then a full kiss at his brown heart shaped lips. but his mouth barely moves. you couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped your throat, pulling back you look down at him, “pucker baby.” he mimics your grin, knowing he’s fallen back into overthinking that quickly.
“don’t think about it, feel it. we’ve kissed before.”
he nods, maybe if he looks at it like how he does dancing? he doesn’t really think much about it he just does it, allows the present moment to rhythmically guide him.
a sense of knowing and a wash of confidence takes over his being, actions moving with security. one had firmly placed on your lower hip, the other cupping your jaw. you nearly yelp into the kiss, his sudden change in demeanor briefly startling you.
this kiss feels more sensual, feels like he’s allowing himself to feel it, to slip into his desire and attraction mindlessly. soft lips fit like a puzzle against yours, although he’s feeling it more, he’s kissing the same spot. in your attempts to guide him you tilt your head, moving the kisses on more than one space. he eventually follows your lead, everything feels more in tune.
you can’t help but giggle at the way your heads push against each other, each smack against your lips deepening the next kiss. large hands caress your neck, subconsciously emphasizing the kiss even more.
he catches on quick.
he’s got the urge to do something daring, without putting much thought into it his tongue is peaking out, pink muscle grazing your top lip. without hesitation you follow his lead. hot mouths slick with spit, in an instant nearly lapping at each other. things get heated rather quick, and his body’s on fire. you’ve kissed before, but it’s never gone this far. you’re so caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even noticed your grip on his button up, desperation unknowingly surging through your body. a slight creek of the plush couch beneath you, and the wet squelch of your mouths are the only things heard in the quiet air.
michael’s hands glide up the curve of your back, as if you could get any closer. the swell of your breasts fully squished against his chest. he wanted his mouth on yours and now that you’ve gotten to this point, he wants to savior it. saliva swaps between the two of you as you get sloppier and he gets hungrier. adrenaline is heightened as the two of you get into it more, and his hips are instinctively bucking against yours. right rightttt
hii can you pls do a thriller era!michael x chubby fem!reader blurb?
she doesn’t like the way a dress fits on her and she complains to him about it and he reassures her it looks just fine. just some very cute fluff!!
thank you in advance!
𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐰𝐞 — 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧
Pairing: Thriller era!Michael x chubby fem!reader
Summary: Michael and reader are getting ready for an event. Reader starts feeling a bit insecure but little does she know Michael is in complete awe with her.
Warnings: Reader has a moment of insecurity so if you find that triggering please do not interact! Besides that, just a bunch of fluff <3
Author’s note: This week was A MESS but I was finally able to post! I hope y’all like it. Requests are open so keep them coming! 💌
Header by @uzmacchiato !
She could hear the shower running as she looked at herself in the mirror. When she first bought the dress, all she could think about was how pretty it was and how good it looked on her. The black satin accentuated her curves perfectly, making her feel like a princess, or at least she thought.
The dress looked beautiful when she’d first put it on, but now? She wasn’t so sure.
Her fingers brushed over the fabric that gathered at her waist before moving down to smooth an imaginary wrinkle. It was the third, or maybe fourth time, she'd done it in the last few minutes. Every time she stepped away from the mirror to do her makeup, get her shoes, or jewelry, she found herself drifting back to it like a magnet.
What exactly was she looking for?
She usually did not feel like this. It had taken some work, but she had learned to overcome her insecurities and learn to feel confident in her own skin. Michael had a lot to do with it.
When they first started getting to know each other, she was not sure where it was going to go. Usually, men like Michael tend to go for slimmer women, so that made her a little insecure in the beginning.
That only lasted a couple of weeks.
Michael made it his personal goal to make her feel seen. He showed her how much she meant to him and how in his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman to ever walk this Earth. To her surprise, it worked, so she didn’t quite understand why she was feeling this way.
Maybe it was the nerves? The event tonight was important. Important enough for waves of photographers to be waiting outside for them, important enough that every magazine and newspaper would have pictures by morning, important enough for everyone to nit pick the way she was doing right now. She knew what the headlines and articles could say.
Just because Michael was kind did not mean everyone else had that same kindness in them.
Frustration was taking over her. She crossed her arms over her chest with a sigh before rolling her eyes and immediately uncrossing them.
“What is wrong with you?” She mumbled to herself.
She hated that she was thinking about. She hated that her insecurities were slowly creeping up on her again.
Her thoughts got interrupted by the sound of the shower cutting off. The silence suddenly felt louder than when it was running.
She gave herself one last glance before she quickly looked away from the mirror, pretending like she hadn’t been standing there analyzing herself for the last ten minutes.
Moments later the bathroom door opened. Michael stepped out with a towel around his waist, stopping dead in his tracks.
She didn’t notice him staring -and basically drooling- at her through the mirror, nor she noticed how her eyes found her reflection once again.
His eyes focused on her. On her waist, how the soft satin sat perfectly on her curves, how her hair looked, how the eye shadow she was wearing made her eyes pop. He was in complete awe.
Unfortunately, while he stood there admiring her, she was too invested in studying her own reflection to notice. And judging by the small frown on her face, she wasn't seeing the same woman he was. Once the realization hit, a small frown appeared on his face too.
He watched her tug lightly at the side of her dress again, adjusting it before dropping her hands. She sighed as her shoulders fell. That did it for him.
“Absolutely not,” he said, making her turn around.
“What?” She asked.
“You’re doing that thing again, mama” he pointed at her, “that thing in which you’re judging yourself when you have no reason to. You look like a goddess”
“Michael…” She blushed.
“I’m not finished,” he pointed at her, making her nod softly as she tried to hold back a giggle. “To me, you’re the most beautiful woman in this world and it pains me to see you be so harsh on yourself. I know dealing with insecurities is not easy, but my love, to me you’re perfect and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and I love you, so much.” He softly grabbed her face and softly kissed her lips, making sure he didn’t ruin her makeup.
“Can I speak now?” She asked softly.
“Yes baby” He chuckled.
“I love you too” She giggled and gave him a peck as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You’re lucky we need to leave soon because I would’ve ripped that dress off you in seconds”
