🗝️▪️Kae▪️🗝️

25 | she/her | minors dni writer | reader | smut enthusiast multifandom black af | bi | real cusser

[naturallykae]

Kae’s PlayPlace 💚🍀

after being on this hellscape of an app for a decade, i have finally decided to add my own poison to the rusted cauldron. fair warning, im not a professional writer. i just like to write the stuff i want to read. so that means black reader all day every day. that’s pretty much it. im super duper chill so don’t hesitate to send me a dm if want to be friends or asking to me read something or whatever.

a lot of what i write is 18+ so MINORS DNI. you are responsible for what you consume. and don’t come up in here being racist or anything else disrespectful because i don’t do the back and forth, baby i will simply block you and go on about my day.

disclaimer: FUCK ai. i don’t know that bitch. all mistakes and shitty writing are mine alone.

currently writing for: the jackson fandom (only 2nd gen)

MASTERLIST 💚🍀

fluff — 🌤️ angst / heavy — ⛈️ smut —⚡️

~ One Shots ~

Made for Me | 18+ ⚡️

otw!michael jackson x black fem!reader

summary: As La Toya’s best friend, you and her do everything together. EVERYTHING. Which even includes getting nipple piercings together. One particular brother can only hide his feelings for so long.

“Michael… I’m Married.” | 18+ ⚡️

bad!michael jackson x black fem!reader

summary: He was shameless. Even the day of your wedding to his best friend wasn’t off limits.

~ Drabbles/Blurbs ~

His Mean Ass Gf 🌤️

Baby Daddy!Jackie 🌤️

[naturallykae]

Baby Daddy!Jackie

(sfw version)

Baby Daddy!Jackie who knew you were expecting before you did. He had seen his mother pregnant plenty of times that he knew how to recognize the signs. Your breasts were more tender and you went to the bathroom a lot more than you used to. He was over the moon when you finally started noticing so he could innocently suggest that maybe you should go to the doctor and see what could be the problem.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who indulged every (sane) craving you had. The strangest food one being waffles topped in cottage cheese, pickles and ketchup. For 3 weeks, you would throw a fit if you didn’t have it every night. When it came to the non-food cravings, he put his foot down when you started mentioning pennies to suck on and freshly mowed grass because absolutely not.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who couldn’t wait to tell his brothers you were expecting. Everybody in the family loved you because they thought you were Jackie’s soulmate. Mother Kate even knitted the baby a onesie. Jermaine, Marlon and Michael fought over who would be the baby’s favorite uncle, while Tito sat quietly, knowing it would be him. (It was indeed Tito.)

Baby Daddy!Jackie who attended every single check up and ultrasound appointment when he could. He would be so pissed off when he had to be on the road and you needed to be at an appointment. He made sure one of his sisters went with you when he couldn’t be there. He was so very involved in your pregnancy. He had the appointments tacked to the big calendar in the living room. All of the important milestones were noted as well.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who cried when you found out that you were having a boy and declared you wanted to name the baby after him.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who loved your pregnancy glow. He fell in love with you again every day it seemed like. Sometimes he would sit and stare at you until you had enough and got onto him about it.

“Baby, what’s the deal? I look crazy or something?”

“No, of course not, mama. Why?”

“Your eyes bout out your head and sitting on my shoulder you staring so hard.”

“It’s not my fault you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t help it.” This was how he found his way into some nookie more often than not. You were not immune to his charms.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who was obsessed with your growing belly. He always had his hands on you. He was in love with the way your body transformed while growing a life.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who liked to sing to your belly as you fell asleep every night. A particular favorite of the baby’s was “Darling Dear”.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who gifted you a set of necklaces and earrings with the baby’s birthstones as a push present. You still debated on whether he did that to butter you up to the idea of another baby but you banished the thought immediately.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who let you break every bone in his hand during labor.

“It’s okay baby, just squeeze my hand as tight as you want.” He grimaced.

“Shut up, Sig. I was gonna fuckin’ do that anyway!”

“You are so right. Don’t know what I thought this was,” he conceded.

He didn’t even give it a second thought because he knew that the outcome would be worth it when he got to hold his son for the first time. He would have the memory of cutting the umbilical cord for the rest of his life. He couldn’t believe he had been given a gift so special.

Baby Daddy!Jackie who definitely didn’t plot and plan in the back of his head on how to get you pregnant again soon. He may not have wanted the big family he grew up with but he couldn’t dismiss the appeal of having a house loud with the sound of little feet and laughter. To him, that’s what dreams were made of.

yall got me writing for jackie now omg this is crazy work. there is an explicit version for you nasty heffas don’t worry ;) lmk if yall want more sigmund from me!

[michaeldiary]

the concept of reader catcalling michael like chris tucker was in you rock my world. women in male dominated fields.

[naturallykae]

no bc now I need to see reader catcalling mike and him getting all shy and embarrassed but it still works on him 😂😂

[brownsugarletters]

His Favorite Lesson

Michael Jackson x Black!Reader

“You and Michael had just started being intimate and it was mostly in missionary where Michael stayed pressed chest to chest with you and couldn’t stop kissing you. 

He loved being able to see your pretty face and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

That is— until now.”

SYNOPSIS: Michael overhears his brothers having locker room talk about hitting it from the back and he just happens to have a very curvy, pretty girlfriend.

CONTENT: fluff, smut, 18+, unprotected sex, descriptions of female anatomy, overstimulation, oral, pre thriller!Michael but post OTW, era 1980

Song Inspo: She's A Bad Mama Jama x Carl Carlton

Taglist: @plan3tch1ld @delictezz @1andonlytashae @artflooo @man-in-the-mirror58 @sunshineyrosie @hiiisisteerrrr @narratedillusions @animegamerfox @mysterioussag @blameditontheboogie @vinnstarr @anonymou000000 @j5rneymercies @khxna @sayyoulovemeziya @ttangerinexo @cvntttyybumblegumprincess @loveismymessage @mvsticmoony @sugarysweetooth @cherrishkissed @thebabykashmere @naturallykae @moonwalkarchives @savagenctzen @silentonthedancefloor @leiserenityy @agenuinedegen (lmk if I forgot anyone)

Late Sunday evening had settled over the Hayvenhurst estate and the scent of fried chicken, collard greens, mac & cheese, and cornbread was still wafting through the home. 

Some new variety show played quietly on the television in the background, but it was drowned out by the Jackson brothers’ loud voices overlapping. They were lounging around after dinner and someone had brought out the good whiskey. 

At the edge of the couch sat Michael, halfway listening and picking at a loose string on his sleeve. He was mostly quiet like he always was when this kind of talk came up. 

Whenever his brothers started having locker room conversations he stayed out of it. 

His private life— especially anything in relativity to you— stayed close to the vest.

Tito leaned back in the leather armchair nursing his second glass of the night. He was grinning wide, saying “I’m tellin’ you man, hittin’ it from the back changed the game for me. You get that angle right, put her face down, ass up… she gon’ lose her mind. A whole different kind of cryin’.”

At this, Michael’s head snapped up. 

The word cryin’ had piqued his interest. 

Heat began spreading across the back of his neck as he listened closer. Jermaine jumped in and nudged Tito with his elbow. He looked over his shoulder before speaking to make sure none of the ladies were about to wander into the room. 

The guys’ wives were currently having their own chat, still sat around the dining table drinking wine.

Once the coast was clear, he added “Especially if you know how to find that lil’ spot deep inside that makes her legs shake and her voice get all high and whiny like she can’t talk straight.” He pointed at Tito smirking, “And if you add a pillow under her hips and hit it just right, she gon’ love you forever.”

Michael gulped audibly. His fingers were now frozen in place. Tito heard it and grinned even bigger. 

“What Mike? You and your girl ain’t never tried it?” 

Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, “You guys can be such pigs”. He mumbled while avoiding eye contact.

Truthfully, no, you guys hadn’t. 

You and Michael had just started being intimate and it was mostly in missionary where Michael stayed pressed chest to chest with you and couldn’t stop kissing you. 

He loved being able to see your pretty face and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

That is— until now.

Tito didn’t let up. “Mike, with the body that girl got, man? You playin’, right? The way her ass sits? You still doin' it missionary like a church boy?” 

The brothers chuckled together in that loud and playful way they always did. 

Michael cut his eyes as Tito. He felt defensiveness bubble to the surface quickly, sharp and protective. 

This wasn’t new. His brothers had been on him for months now ever since you started coming around. You were real thick, and fine as hell. A real brown skin beauty. This was a synonymous agreement amongst them all. 

Every time you came over, he caught them doing low whistles or elbowing each other when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Damn Mike… you got all that and you still playin’ it safe? Couldn’t be me.” They’d say once you were out of earshot, shaking their heads. 

They weren’t wrong, you were fine as hell, and he had definitely been playing it safe. But you were his girl, and therefore his business. 

“Don’t talk about her like that.” He said, voice low and firm. “That’s my girl and y’all need to mind your own business, quit sayin’ all that stuff about her body. Keep it to yourself.”

Jermaine and Jackie oooh’d in high pitched voices before sipping their drinks, staying out of it. 

Everyone knew how Michael got when it came to you. 

Out of all the brothers he was the most sensitive, romantic, and emotionally attached when it came to women. And to make things more intense, you were his first. 

First real girlfriend, first girl he’d ever invited over— and more recently, to spend the night. You were the first person he’d ever been intimate with. 

To Michael that was sacred. He was a bit of a late bloomer, and you thought it was adorable.

You loved being able to experience new things with him. Honestly, you had him wrapped right around your finger. If you asked him to pluck the stars out the sky one by one, he would. 

Tito held his hands up in surrender, still laughing. “Aight, aight. We ain’t mean no harm, but for real Mike. You still got a lot to learn, and that’s a good thing. Means you get to figure it out with her, make her feel brand new every time.” Then he winked and took another drink from his glass. 

“Whatever, Tito” he rolled his eyes. 

Michael was mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but the words stuck with him, sparking a lightbulb in his head.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that same week you stopped by the house to drop off something for Michael. He was upstairs changing and had asked Tito and Jermaine to keep an ear out for the door because he was expecting you. 

You were rounding the corner when you overheard Tito’s voice, real low. 

“Damn, she fine as hell. Hips that’ll make a grown man drool like a baby. Her body is crazy man. And Mike still playin', doin’ it like its 1965.” 

He and Jermaine chuckled together and then Jermaine replied, “Mike don’t know what to do with all that. She probably makin’ that boy forget his own name.”

You stepped into the doorway as if you hadn’t heard anything, smile sweet and eyes soft. “What y’all doin’?” Immediately, the energy changed. Tito sat up straighter and his grin turned warm and respectful.

“Hey sweetheart. You lookin’ pretty today.” Jermaine nodded in agreement with a sweet voice.

“How you doin’ baby girl? Go on up, Mike’s waitin’ on you”

Thanking them you turned and headed up the long winding staircase, smirking to yourself. 

You weren’t visually impaired; you knew exactly what kind of body you had and the effect it had on men.

But as for Michael’s brothers? Out of respect, they would never dare say anything of the sort to your face. 

You had skin-tight bell bottom jeans on that accentuated your curvy figure, and the top you had on revealed a peek-a-boo of cocoa skin at the small of your back. You made sure to roll your hips extra hard as you trailed up the stairs to your man.

Both brothers’ eyes followed the sway of your hips and the full, heart-shaped curve of your ass as you walked away. 

Once you were out of earshot, Jermaine and Tito gave each other a knowing look. Tito let out a low appreciate whistle under his breath. 

Jermaine shook his head and walked away, “I’m tellin’ you man, Mike don’t know what to do with all that.”.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That same day Michael found himself at the library. He asked Bill to drop him off for a while so he could do some research on a new dance style he was trying.

But truthfully? He was trying to figure out what to do with all that.

He walked into the library with his hoodie pulled low over his curls and large sunglasses covering most of his face. When he got to the help desk he asked the librarian for books on female anatomy. Specifically medical ones— the kind with diagrams. 

Once the package was secure Michael made his way to the back of the library to a corner that seemed quiet enough and settled down at a table. His heart was thumping so hard he thought he could feel it in his throat. 

Michael took one more look around before he cracked the book and began scrolling through its pages. His face felt hot when his eyes finally landed on the diagram he’d been looking for. 

The description of the sensitive bundle of nerves made everything his brothers were saying click. He scanned the page slowly to make sure he understood.

How pressure there could make everything clench and flutter and cry. The idea that touching you a certain way and a certain angle could pull that kind of reaction from you felt like a new language to Michael. 

One that he was desperate to speak. 

He flipped the page and when he saw the illustration on it of the anterior vaginal wall he gasped softly and nearly dropped the book. 

His fingers fumbled as he quickly shut it, suddenly embarrassed at the idea that someone might come near. Quickly Michael decided that he needed a private place to study. 

The only thing was, when he went to stand to leave, he finally noticed the not-so subtle tent that had formed in his pants as he was reading. 

So, he sat there for a long minute, fumbling with the book and breathing through it while his ears burned hot with embarrassment. 

Once he had contained himself enough he tucked the book under his arm and checked it out at the front desk with his head down like he was hiding something sacred. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next afternoon Michael thought he was alone. 

He had his book open— and fairly close to his face due to how intrigued he was. 

The house was quiet which was a rarity. He was just getting to the good part about applying rhythmic pressure and circling the spot when he heard footsteps coming toward him.

Immediately he looked up. Tito walked in and locked eyes with Michael. But before he could speak or greet him, he saw the look that flickered across his face.

It was the same look Michael would get as a little boy whenever he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. The same look he had seen on his face when Michael was 10 and snatched one of his older brother’s magazines, being nosey of course. 

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize he was looking down at a Playboy until Tito called out, “Mike, they filmin’ you”. Instantly he had dropped the magazine like it was on fire. Just like he did the book in his hands now.

Michael felt like he was in one of those old ninja movies. The ones where the screen splits in half and the camera closes in on both their eyes. He knew he was caught. Michael’s fingers tightened around the book on instinct, but it was already too late. He had maybe 5 seconds to react and he knew it.

Tito’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, and before Michael could even move Tito quickly crossed the room in 3 strides and snatched the book from him. “What you got here, Mike?” Michael’s eyes went huge.

“Give it back, man—” But Tito was already teasing and holding the book out of his reach. He started flipping pages and reading aloud in a sultry voice, teasing Michael. 

“To stimulate the G-spot, apply firm, rhythmic pressure to the anterior vaginal wall approximately two inches inside… combine with clitoral stimulation for maximum effect…” Tito hooted in amusement. “Aw man, we got Mikey studyin’! Look at this — diagrams and everything. Lil’ man out here doing homework for his girl!”

Jackie and Jermaine heard the commotion from the other room and came in to be nosey. Tito kept going, his voice getting higher as his amusement grew. 

“The tissue may swell and become more sensitive with continued stimulation…” He looked away from the book to his little brother “You really got sticky notes in the margins with notes Mike? I’m proud of you man, finally learnin’ how to handle all that fine ass your girl got”.

Michael’s face was on fire. He reached for the book, voice sharp with embarrassment and a little bit of attitude even though he knew it was just teasing. “Give it back Tito, don’t! I’m serious, that ain’t funny.”

Tito held the book out of reach still chuckling then acted like he was gonna hand it over. He extended the book to Michael, but when he reached for it— he yanked it back at the last second still giggling to himself at Michael’s diligence. 

“You sure you ready for all this knowledge?” He laughed harder when Michael glared at him hard. “Aight, happy studying then.”

Michael snatched the book back, grumbling “You guys are so dumb” under his breath as he stormed off to his room. A chorus of his older brothers’ warm teasing followed him all the way there. 

Yeah they were clowning him, but they were happy he was stepping up.

Later that night when things were actually quiet and it was safe, Michael stayed up late with the book open on his bed. 

He kept re-reading the section on angle and pressure. He felt flustered from how explicit the instructions were, but he was determined to do right by his woman.

At one point, he even grabbed a pillow and slipped it under his hips to practice the slow rolling motion the book described. Of course, with his face buried in his arm because he felt ridiculous—and horny— at the same time.

He kept thinking about you. How pretty you sounded when you came for him, and about how he wanted to make you cry the good kind of tears.

When you came over the next day Michael caught himself watching the way your hips swayed when you walked and how full your ass looked in the jeans you wore. 

His eyes lingered for longer than they usually did, but he quickly looked away when you turned over your shoulder to ask him something. He wasn’t usually like that…vulgar. 

He appreciated your body and loved every inch of it but researching this new information had him feeling bashful, anxious, and eager all at once. 

Still, he simply tucked his hands in his pockets and tried to act normal. The image stayed with him all day though.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That weekend the Jackson family left for New York City to celebrate Janet. She had just landed a guest star role on the show Diff’rent Strokes and was over the moon about it. It was one of the most popular shows on television. 

Katherine had suggested that the family fly out to watch her first few days on set because Jan's nerves were high. If there was one thing the Jacksons were gonna do, it was pull together for one of their own.

Everyone was going, except Michael. He declined claiming that he had some new music he had to get out, so he needed to be near his studio. 

And everyone knew how Michael was when it came to getting his ideas out in a timely manner. “We know, we know Mike” Marlon had said on his way out. “You gotta get it out now or God’s gonna give the idea to Prince.” He rolled his eyes dramatically before closing the door behind him. 

Michael sighed contently, a large smile taking over his features. 

Finally. 

He did have music he wanted to work on, butttt that’s not why he declined to go. 

This was the best time for him to put his knowledge to the test without fear of anyone overhearing or interrupting. Michael headed down to the kitchen immediately. 

He knew exactly whose help he needed. “Hey Ms. Nancy” Michael leaned up against the kitchen counter unsuspectingly, peering over the older women’s shoulder as she stirred something that smelled delicious in a large pot.

Nancy hadn’t heard Michael enter the room but she turned around smiling a smile that reached her eyes. “Hey baby, what you still doin’ here? Not goin’ to celebrate Jan?” Michael shook his head and his curls fell across his forehead as he did so. 

“No ma’am. I had some things I needed to get done back here… Can I ask you a favor?”

She looked over at Michael again and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not making vegan lasagna again, Michael. That cheese is just nasty.” she screwed up her nose at the thought. Michael laughed hard at the memory of the watery lasagana. 

“No, no. I promise I’ll never ask you to do that again. I was just wonderin’… I wanna have my girl come over tonight for a little date. Before you leave for the day, do you think you could whip us up somethin’?” 

She smiled knowingly to herself as she focused on attending to the pot. “Oh you had some extra work to do, huh? You ain’t got to lie to Ms. Nancy, baby. I was young once.” Michael’s face felt hot and his eyes widened. He covered his face and nervous giggles escaped him.

“It’s not like that Ms. Nancy! Just gonna spend some time now that it’s quiet, that’s all.”

“Mhm, alright now.” She gave him a look that clearly said “you can’t fool me honey, you ain’t slick. I’ve known the game longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Whatcha want me to make baby? She loved that honey butter cornbread last time, I ended up sending some home with her.” 

Michael’s stomach rumbled and he nodded in agreement. “That would be perfect. And can you make that one dish with the smothered chicken and rice that she likes?”

“I got you. Want me to leave the stove on low so it can stay warm?”

“Yes please, you’re the best” Michael pressed a sweet kiss to Ms. Nancy’s cheek and thanked her before turning and heading out of the kitchen. “Tell Mr. Greg I said hello” He yelled over his shoulder as he headed off to his next destination. 

“I will baby.” She called back.

Everything was coming together.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that evening, Michael had asked Bill to pick you up to bring you over. You told him you could drive but he insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. 

You were so confused when you got to the estate and there was no one playing basketball outside. No music drifting through the windows. It looked empty. 

You almost asked Bill if he was sure Michael was home before he stepped out of the front door. 

He stood waiting patiently, a shy sweet smile on his face as he waited for Bill to park. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

“Mikey?” You looked around suspiciously as he opened your door for you. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Hi baby. It’s so good to see you, how was the ride over?” He looked you over as if he hadn’t seen you in days before pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips.

“It was fine Mikey, where is everybody? Why is it so quiet, is everything okay?” 

You were getting concerned now. Hayvenhurst was never this empty. Michael let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“They all went to New York. Went to see Jan. She had some stuff she was working on and mother wanted the whole family there.” He paused but his doe eyes stayed on you. “I stayed behind 'cause I wanna be with you.” 

You were flattered but didn’t ask him to elaborate further. No way were you gonna complain about finally getting alone time with your man in his mansion.

He took your hand in his large one and led you toward the house, thanking Bill and saying goodbye. “I asked Ms. Nancy to make dinner” He said looking over at you shyly. “Wanna wash up first? It’s ready whenever you are.”

Now you raised your eyebrows. Not because Michael wasn’t usually thoughtful, he always was. Sometimes too much and to his own detriment. But, this evening suddenly started to feel special in a way you couldn’t pinpoint.

“For meee?” Playfully you raised a hand to your chest in a flattered way. 

“You’re so cute. Yes, silly. Of course, for you. Always for you.” His gaze held yours a little longer now, lips curved in an adorable boyish smile. 

“What she make?” You asked. He scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“Smothered chicken, yellow rice, cheesy broccoli, and cornbread.” Your whole face lit up before you could hide it. 

“Mike, you know that’s my favorite!” You were already smiling big. Michael’s expression softened and admiration glazed over his features.

He was always enamored by how small things made you so happy. He thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Especially when your eyes got big and you bit your lip trying not to smile too hard.

“I know” He said quietly, thumb massaging your hand that it was holding gently. “That’s why I asked for it.”

Stepping in close, you wrapped your arms around his middle. “You’re so sweet. How’d I get so lucky?”

Michael couldn’t stop the grin he had from getting bigger. He loved feeling chosen by you. He hugged you back and laughed under his breath. Chin resting on your head.

“Go wash up mama, I’ll fix your plate.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Dinner was quiet in the best way. You guys sat at the kitchen table instead of the big formal one since it was just the two of you. Between bites you chatted and caught up, although there wasn’t much to catch up on because Michael made sure he saw you nearly every day. If he didn’t see you, he’d speak to you at least twice on the phone. It was clingy but you loved it.

He asked you what you had been up to for the day. You told him a funny story about your little cousin.

You guys were at the mall and she was talking loudly about how her mama was trippin’ on her about not wanting her to hang out with some guy.

And then, her mom appeared right behind her as she was in the middle of rolling her neck and saying, “I don’t care what she say, I’m still goin’ with him to that party. If I gotta climb out my window, I’m goin.”

Long story short, when she looked and saw your aunt standing behind her, arms crossed and lips pursed, she changed her whole tune. Michael laughed hard and shook his head he loved hearing stories about your life. It was nice. Normal.

Every time you made a happy little sound as you took a bite his eyes flicked up to you like he couldn’t help watching. When you tore a piece of cornbread and dipped it in the gravy, he smiled to himself and looked down at his plate. Things felt easy with you. Comfortable, like home. 

By the time the plates were empty you both were full and lazy.

“C’mon” Michael stretched his hand out to you. “Movie?” You accepted it without thinking.

In the den the lighting was warm and low. Michael put on something but you weren't really paying close attention to it. You were stretched out on the big couch on your back and he was settled between your legs, cheek resting against your tummy and arm draped loosely over your thigh. His weight was warm and familiar and every now and then he’d turn his head and press a soft, slow kiss to the skin right above your navel.

Absentmindedly, you played with his curls. His breathing matched yours and every so often his fingers would stroke lazily along the side of your thigh. After a while, he turned to look up at you with big doe eyes. 

“There’s somethin’ I wanna show you” He said quietly, “In my room… come with me?” You shrugged and said sure, allowing him to pull you up off of the couch.

You followed him down the hall expecting a new demo he’d been working on or one of his quiet little hobbies. But when he opened the bedroom door, the air was warm and sweet with candlelight.

A new Stevie Wonder record was spinning on his turntable. And the bed— the bed was made neatly, pillows fluffed, rose petals scattered over the comforter and everything glowing gold.

Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you stopped in the doorway. “Michael… what is all this?”

He turned to you with a shy smile tugging at his lips, shoulders a little hunched. “Just… just tryin’ somethin’. For you. For us.”

He stepped close and placed gentle hands on your waist to lean in and kiss you. It started slow and soft, the kind that made your stomach flutter. His lips moved against yours like he couldn’t help himself, tongue gently trailing along your bottom lip to request access. His tongue slid warm and careful against yours.

One hand came up to cup your jaw and his thumb stroked your cheek as he kissed you deeper. He pulled back just enough to mumble against your lips, a little out of breath.

“I love kissin’ you so much,” he whispered. “Could do this all night and still not get enough.”

He kissed you slower this time like he was trying to prove it. You melted into it. Your hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He made a quiet appreciative sound in his throat and kept kissing you, nipping softly at your bottom lip.

Only when both of you were a little dazed did he start walking you backward toward the bed. He eased you down and followed you. Then he started all over again. Kissing your throat and your collarbones, pushing your shirt up inch by inch so he could mouth at the soft skin at your stomach.

He took his time kissing down your tummy before going lower and settling on your thighs. His hands rubbed slow circles on them as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh where the skin was softest.

When your muscles twitched against his lips he smiled to himself and did again. Slower and higher this time. He let the anticipation build until your hips were shifting restlessly against the sheets under you.

A hot, open mouthed kiss was pressed over your panties and your breath caught. He looked up at you with dark, soft eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Every part of you.”

He took his time taking off your panties, hooking his fingers in the waistband and easing them down.

For a second he just gazed and admired how puffy and pretty your pussy looked. He still couldn’t believe he got to see you like this. Then, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss right over your clit. You made a quiet sound.

He settled in farther between your legs like he belonged there, shoulders gently spreading your legs wider. His tongue was gentle and he licked you with long careful strokes that made your hips roll against him without you intending to. He watched every little reaction closely and used them as a guide. If your breath caught in your throat, he stayed there. If your thighs shook in his hands, he did it again softer. He moaned quietly into you when you got wetter like the taste of you was something he wanted to savor.

“Mikey…” you gasped, hands gently threading through his curls.

He hummed against you teasingly to answer you which made your hips jolt. His tongue licked you flat and broad then he used the tip of it to gently circle your clit. One of his hands stayed on your thigh rubbing soothing circles while the other slid up to lace his fingers with yours.

When his lips sealed over your clit and sucked your back arched and soft moans fell past your lips. Michael loved it, and he kept that same patient rhythm as he kept you from pulling your hips away from him. He listened closely to the way your breathing changed. Then, he slid two fingers inside you and curled them slow, searching until he found a spot that made your hips jerk.

The way he stayed right there and used his tongue and fingers to stroke you had you seeing stars and tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from how good it felt. Michael moaned in appreciation when your thighs started quaking around his shoulders.

“That’s it, good girl baby” he murmured against you. “Let me make you feel good.”

The orgasm rolled through you in long, slow waves. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your hips pushed up against his mouth but he didn’t stop. He kept licking and sucking you through every throb, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive to his touch. Only when you started gently pushing at his shoulders with a breathless little sound did he back away.

His gaze lingered on the pleasure-struck look on your pretty face as he pressed soft kisses to your thighs and made his way back up to your lips. His lips were shiny, eyes bright and soft.

He brushed his lips against yours and his eyes drifted across your features adoringly. He loved the way you got so dazed after he made you cum like that.

“I been thinkin’ bout somethin’,” he said softly. “I wanna try somethin’ new with you. If you trust me.”

“What, Mikey?” you asked, still breathless. He bit his lip nervously but held your gaze steadily.

“I…I want you to turn around for me, baby. On your knees… face down so I can love on you the way I been wantin’ to.”

The way he said it made your tummy flip. He never talked like that. Your eyes fluttered in surprise but you obeyed him immediately without question. Turning away from him, you pressed your chest and cheek to the mattress and arched your back to raise your ass high in the air.

Michael went completely still at your submission. The candle light was flickering against your soft brown skin, highlighting your pretty heart-shaped ass. His eyes trailed over your frame in the provocative position and admired how your waist dipped in at your wide hips that looked way more dramatic in this position.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your cheeks spread just enough to show the glistening lips of your pussy peeking out between them, a single strand of arousal dripping from you. Michael nearly drooled.

“Lord have mercy…” He exhaled. His hands explored you gently as if this was all new, palms sliding over the backs of your thighs to cup the fullness of your ass.

He squeezed gently then trailed his hands to your hips, gently running his thumbs over the dimples at the small of your back. “You look so pretty like this… I don’t even know what to do with myself, mama.”

He kissed your back where his thumbs has just been and then pressed another one to your right cheek.

He stood up straight and raised his t shirt up exposing his belly. Then he pushed his sweats down just enough. He was already hard, tip leaking with pre-cum from him rutting the mattress while he drooled from how good you tasted. 

He dragged the head gently through your folds in a teasing way before letting it catch on your entrance. “You trust me, baby?” he whispered as he slid up to bump your clit. You made a soft surprised sound and he giggled.

“Yes baby, of course I trust you.”

That was all the permission Michael needed to show you everything he had learned for you.

He placed a hand on your hip and pushed in carefully and slowly. You let out a low satisfied sound as he slowly stretched you inch by inch, biting his lip to contain himself.

“Takin’ me so good, princess.” His voice was shaking a little. “So warm and tight… I can feel every little flutter.” He bottomed out, hips flush against you and stayed there for a moment. Once he was sure you were okay, he began moving in slow, deep, searching rolls like he was looking for something. Until oh— he found it.

The second the head of his dick nudged that spot your eyes rolled back and a broken gasp punched out of your chest. Your hips pushed back against him to take him deeper on instinct.

After a few strokes he felt your walls clench around him and suddenly, you got a lot wetter. When he looked down to watch himself stroking you, you were creaming thick and white around the base of his dick.

Michael’s eyes went wide. He had never made you do that before. “Oh… there it is. That’s it, ain’t it?”

He repeated the motion from the same angle with another deep nudge. You pushed back against him harder with a high, whiny moan spilling past your lips. Exactly how his brothers had described it. Your thighs shook slightly and he could feel you creaming more as the obscene sounds filled the room.

He pulled his t-shirt the rest of the way up and brought to his lips so he could hold it with his teeth. He wanted an unfiltered look at the pretty picture he was painting between your legs.

Once free, his hands found their way to your hips and his thumbs pressed into the dimples there. He started fucking you deep and focused on angling every stroke to hit that spot over and over again.

He was still a little unsure, so he asked “Right there? Does that feel good, baby? I… I been readin’ ‘bout this. Wanted to make you feel good. Wanna make you cry for me the way Tito said.”

You nodded hard, pushing back against him for more and biting your lip when the movement made him nudge against your cervix. “Yes— yes, Mikey doin’ so good, don’t stop—”

He let out a shaky breath and kept rolling his hips. “Thank you baby, I learned it all for you. Been studyin’ so hard for you. So I could be perfect, just for you”

Your moans grew higher, completely wrapped in ecstasy and love. You kept pushing back, chasing it, thighs already starting to shake. His praise came in soft pieces between his breaths.

“Your skin looks so pretty in this light mama…” 

“Love how soft you feel… smell so good too, like cocoa butter” 

“These hips, baby…”

You were still pushing back for more, hips rolling to meet every deep stroke until— the intensity started tipping over into something sharper.

The pleasure got so concentrated it almost scared you. Your arms trembled and you tried to stay with it, but the pressure on that spot was becoming so intense that your body started easing forward on the bed without you consciously realizing it.

“Mikey—” you gasped, voice high and shaky. “Wait— it’s… it’s t-too much—”

His hips chased you as he trailed a hand slowly up the length of your back.

“Hand me a pillow, baby” You didn’t compute his request immediately due to being lost in the rhythm of his strokes.

One hand came down in a playful spank against the side of your ass. Not hard, just enough to make you jump a little and moan.

Instantly you obliged. He took the pillow from you and gently tucked it under your tummy under your hips. Instantly your back felt supported— and the pressure in your core increased.

His palm settled between your shoulder blades, gentle but firm, to keep you right where he wanted you. The other hand gripped your hip and pulled you back onto him in one smooth motion so he could keep the angle.

“I know, mama, I know,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing around the shirt in his mouth. “Feels so good, don’t it? Don’t run from me. Be a good girl and let me keep massagin’ that spot just right.”

You could hear how much wetter you were getting, and you could feel it too. Messy, creamy strings of your essence and his pre-cum every time he pulled back and thrust in again. Your arousal was coating his dick thicker, dripping down his balls now onto the sheets.

He watched it happen and his lips parted as the muscles in his stomach clenched and fluttered every time you creamed more around him. Your ass rippled and jiggled slightly with every thrust, back arching deeper because of your curves. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your heart-shaped ass bouncing soft and pretty against him in the candlelight.

“That’s my good girl…” he cooed, voice hoarse around the fabric in his mouth. “Look at you creamin’ all over me, baby. Your body was made for this, I swear. I love every inch of you. These thighs, this sexy lil’ waist,” he gently squeezed your love handles. “Pretty ass bouncin’ just for me. You smell like home, baby. Feel like home. I love you. I love makin’ you feel this good.”

Your eyes rolled back hard at the praise. “L-love you too Mikey— it feels so good— so— so good—” the words broke apart between high breathless moans as the pressure inside you kept building higher and higher.

It felt like something was about to break. Your thighs trembled violently and drool slipped from the corner of your mouth onto the pillow as your walls fluttered endlessly around him.

 You could feel it. An intense, almost scary pressure right on your spot. Then your eyes fluttered open just enough to notice the towel spread underneath you. Very carefully placed. He planned for this.

Michael leaned forward and gently grabbed your jaw to tilt your head back so he could kiss you. As his mouth met yours he shifted the angle of his hips, gently alternating between nudging the sensitive swollen tissue of your G-spot and pressing just a little deeper so the head of his dick brushed your cervix.  It was pornographic.

The combination of the tender open-mouthed kiss and the dual stimulation made your eyes flutter with submission and roll back. You moaned into his mouth, soft and helpless.

He kissed you like he couldn’t help it, soft and deep as he gave you those slow, alternating strokes before finally letting your head drop back down.

“Your ass looks so pretty like this,” he breathed, almost to himself. Then his cheeks went hot. “Can I say that? Tell me I can say it, baby.”

You looked back at him over your shoulder with glassy eyes.

“You can say whatever you want, Mikey… I love you. And I want you to stay inside. I went and got on the pill. Been thinkin’ about tryin’ somethin’ new with you too.”

His eyes lit up. Something warm and confident sparked behind them. The words his brothers had said echoing in his head. You hit that lil’ spot deep inside her, and she gon’ love you forever. He gripped your hips a little firmer, a soft new certainty in the way he moved.

The pressure kept climbing. Your voice cracked.

“Mikey— wait— I think I gotta— I think I gotta pee—”

His whole face changed. Eyes bright and shining like he’d just unlocked a new level in a video game.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, voice low and coaxing, a little breathless with excitement. “Don’t hold it. Don’t be scared. Just let it go for me. I read about this… it’s supposed to feel like that when it’s real good. You’re doin’ so good for me. Just let it happen mama. I got you.”

You almost giggled at how earnest he sounded until he nudged that spot again, slow and deliberate. Your eyes rolled back hard. The pressure broke. A sharp, wet rush of fluid gushed out of you around his cock, soaking the towel and splashing against his thighs as you squirted hard, body shaking, high-pitched cries spilling from your throat.

Michael made a sound like he’d just won something. A soft, stunned, almost disbelieving moan left him as he watched and felt you come apart on him.

“Oh my God… baby… look at you…”

The second he felt you squirt, his own orgasm started to crest slow and deep. His eyes fluttered. His stomach muscles clenched. A broken, accidental “F-fuck—” slipped out of him right as the first thick pulse left him.

He immediately looked almost panicked.

“Sorry—! I didn’t mean to say that—” he gasped, still cumming in long, drawn-out waves, hips stuttering as he filled you. “It just— it felt so— oh God, baby, I love you—”

You moaned low and deep when you felt him spill inside you, the warmth of it making your whole body clench around him again. It was y’alls first time like this. Something about the trust of it and the way he stayed buried deep and gave you everything made your eyes sting a little even as another aftershock rolled through you. You pushed back against him weakly, taking every pulse, a soft, satisfied sound leaving your throat.

He stayed inside you until the last tremor passed, arms wrapped tight around your middle, both of you shaking and trying to catch your breath. Stevie Wonder still spun soft in the background.

After a long while he pulled out slowly and kissed the back of your neck. He laid next to you and pulled you on top of him, draping your still shaking thigh across his waist. One hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your lower back.

He was quiet for a while, just breathing you in.

Then, soft and shy he asked, “Did I… did I do okay? Was that good for you?”

You lifted your head enough to kiss him, lazy and sweet.

“More than good, Mikey. You found it. You made me cry just like Tito said you would.”

He buried his face in your neck, cheeks hot, but you could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Yeah,” he whispered, voice full of wonder. “I guess I did.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

please respect my work 💌

Everything posted here is written

by @brownsugarletters. Please do not repost, copy, translate, claim as your own, upload to Al tools, or share my writing outside of Tumblr without permission.

[naturallykae]

i need to be transported to the alternate universe where michael and whitney are still alive. this can’t be real life. they got no business being gone and why must i suffer thru it? you mean to tell me i gotta live the rest of my life without michael and whitney?? insane work. fucking unreal

[fleurjasmi]

𔓘 thinking about Michael figuring out your obsession with his hands. (Part 2 » part 1)

This was getting out of hand.

Everything had to be about his hands.

"Honey, can you put the bandages on my fingers?" Oh yeah? Your thick slender fingers? No.

"God, what a mess..." He says this after mashing strawberries for Blanket and getting his hands dirty. Proceeding to getting way too much soap and spend way too much time soaping and massaging his hands while you cleaned the dishes.

"This looks delicious!" After you made a cake he runs his finger over the whipped cream. "Taste it." Motherfucker. He knows what his doing, right?

Were you paranoid? Or was he playing games with you until you begged?

Realizing that the implicit approach wasn't working, he decided to resort to the explicit approach.

Sometimes he didn't even want to go to the refrigerator, but if you were in the way, he would grab you by the waist and move you. "Excuse me darling..."

And fucking always whispering. You wouldn't give up. If he wants something, let him say so.

Before going to sleep you always read, wearing your glasses that embarrassed you a little. On that particular day, he decided to stare at you, and of course you could feel your face burning.

You saw him lean against your glasses and adjust them slightly. God. Furthermore, he had the audacity to start playing with your hair, then with the strap of your satin lace pajamas. He was teasing you. Not happening.

But everything has its downfall. Just like the Western Roman Empire, it took a long time, but it fell, just like you.

"Michael!"

He was texting but as you call him he glances up.

"Mhm?" Michael wore his pajamas and glasses.

"Where's my Pink Floyd shirt?" You stand in front of him. "You know I don't joke around about that shirt, if this is just another one of your games-"

"My games?" He smirks.

"Yes. Your games." You cross your arms. "You were wearing it yesterday."

"Hey hey, don't worry, I know where it is..." He gets up and sits you down. "Wait a sec."

He makes a long journey through the house looking for the shirt. The anxiety was intense, you loved that shirt, maybe you were too emotional for some reason.

He appears holding the shirt. You grab it while still sitting on the sofa.

The moment you see a big oily stain, you get ready to yell at him.

"You-"

"Shh, it's okay..."

"Do not shush me! I knew something happe-"

Michael presses his icy index finger against your warm lips.

"Don't worry, I'll send it to the laundry today, it will look brand new, darling..." He smiles sweetly.

How could he always be so calm and rational even when you were a bundle of nerves?

"But..."

"But?" He tilts his head chuckling.

...

You grab his face, standing up. Kissing him passionately, his tongue, not even waiting for permission, entered in a rude and brutal manner, a wet mess. You could only feel his hand already on you jaw while the other hold your back, pressing you chest against his.

"I knew you wouldn't last much longer." He moans.

"Mommy!!!" Prince yells, making you gasp and separate the heated kiss.

You look at each other, messy hair and swollen, red lips.

"Khm! Huh... Yes??" You yell.

"Paris is making fun of me..."

You both sigh.

You weren't worried because you knew that later it would all be about the two of you.

[naturallykae]

the most dangerous thing he did was wear them rings. my brain legitimately starts short-circuiting when I see his hands with rings. like oh my god this man was on another level. he was another species entirely ngl. his hands were so beautiful and sexy im obsessed 

[heynyxiepixie]

i'm doing the sketch for IDK's art competition and uh

wHICH OF PUMPKIN'S EYES IS FUCKED UP?????? I DON'T REMEMBER

and now part of me is doubting that one of her eyes is even fucked at all which is SO great like did i haLLUCINATE AN ENTIRE PLOT POINT?????

[heynyxiepixie]

started the lineart for one of the pieces

can y’all tell what pose i’m going for lol

[heynyxiepixie]

linework:

finished piece:

[bambistjames]

non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc

[naturallykae]

I love playing out character convos in my head before I type it out. I have to make sure that it flows naturally like how a real conversation would, and if it doesn’t flow the way I think it should or it’s too choppy then it’s back to the drawing board. 

[missbilliejean]

i’m amazed by how often you post omgg

can i request a oneshot where the reader says something hurtful to michael and doesn’t realize that she hurt his feelings? followed by him crying in his room alone later on, and the reader being confused as to why hes upset.. until he tells her it’s because of what she said

you can pick whichever era you want !

HAHA thanks so much! most of my fics i've had the concept and dialogue for them in my head for a while so thats why I've written so many so quickly!

made with love

꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂

The kitchen was bright, humming with the casual, easy energy of a normal Tuesday afternoon. You were leaning against the counter, scrolling through your phone, while Michael stood by the stove, carefully plating up two bowls of pasta he’d spent the last hour making from scratch. He looked content-humming a quiet tune, his shoulders relaxed, completely in his element.

"Alright, dinner is served," Michael said, turning around with a proud, soft smile. He handed you a bowl, his eyes shining as he waited for you to try it.

You took a forkful, chewed absently, and shrugged as you looked back down at your phone. "It’s good. A little plain, but it's good."

Michael’s smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second. His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of his own bowl. "Oh. I tried a new herb blend. Thought it might give it a nice, subtle flavor."

"Yeah, maybe a bit too simple," you muttered carelessly, your focus entirely on a video you were watching. "Honestly, you probably don't need to bother making the sauce from scratch next time. The jar stuff is just easier anyway."

You didn't look up, so you didn't see the way the light completely left his eyes. You didn't notice how his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, or how he quietly set his own untouched bowl back down on the counter.

"Right," Michael said, his voice dropping to a flat, quiet murmur. "Jar sauce is easier."

"Exactly," you said, finally looking up but completely missing his tight expression. "Hey, I'm gonna go finish this episode in the living room, okay?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

༻✦༺

It wasn't until a few hours later that you noticed how quiet the house had gotten. Michael hadn't come out to join you, and the silence coming from his bedroom was heavy. When you walked past his door, you caught the faint sound of a muffled, ragged breath.

Knocking softly, you pushed the door open. "Michael?"

The room was dark, lit only by the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds. Michael was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hunched shoulders shaking slightly. His head was buried in his hands. As your eyes adjusted, you realized with a shock that he was crying—quiet, heavy tears slipping through his fingers.

You instantly felt a wave of confusion. You walked over, kneeling down in front of him, trying to catch his gaze. "Hey, what’s wrong? What happened? Did you get some bad news?"

Michael quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand, turning his head away from you, trying desperately to swallow down a sob. "I'm fine. Seriously. Just... just tired."

"You're clearly not just tired," you insisted, your heart sinking in genuine distress. Your mind raced through the day, trying to think of what could have devastated him like this. "Michael, please talk to me. Did someone call you? Did something happen at work? Why are you upset?"

"It's nothing, really," he whispered, his voice trembling as he stared fixatedly at the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, fresh tears escaping and tracing down his cheeks. He shook his head, pulling his arms closer to his chest. "I don't... I don't want to say it. It's stupid. I'm just being stupid."

"You're not stupid," you said softly, reaching out to gently touch his knee. "Michael, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can fix it."

He let out a weak, breathless laugh that sounded incredibly small, his shoulders dropping in defeat. He finally looked at you, his eyes red and swimming with fresh tears, completely vulnerable.

"It's... it's about earlier," he admitted, his voice cracking into a bare whisper. "In the kitchen."

You blinked, utterly thrown off. "The kitchen? What did I do? I just went to watch my show."

Michael swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. "You didn't really do anything wrong. It's just... I spent all afternoon on that dinner. I wanted to make something special for you because I know you've had a stressful week. And you didn't even look at me. You just... you called it bland. You told me my effort was a waste of time and that a cheap jar of sauce was better than something I poured love into."

Your breath hitched. The memory of the kitchen conversation flashed in your mind, but this time, the carelessness of your own words hit you like a physical blow. You hadn't meant it maliciously—it had just been mindless, thoughtless chatter—but seeing him broken down on the edge of his bed made you realize just how deeply it had cut.

"Michael..." you said, a heavy, sinking regret filling your chest. You moved from the floor to sit right next to him on the bed, immediately wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Oh my god, Michael, I am so, so sorry."

He hesitated for a second, then let his forehead rest against your shoulder, his chest heaving as he let out a shaky sigh.

"I was so distracted by my phone, I wasn't even paying attention," you murmured, rubbing his back gently as he quieted down. "The pasta was amazing, Michael. The fact that you spent an hour making it just to make me feel better is the sweetest thing ever, and I completely ruined it. I'm so sorry. I love when you cook for me."

Michael stayed quiet for a long moment, listening to the steady beat of your heart, letting the warmth of your embrace ground him. The heavy tension in his shoulders slowly began to melt away.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, wiping the last of the tears from his cheeks. A tiny, incredibly soft smile finally returned to his face, though his eyes were still a little glassy. "You really liked it?"

"I loved it," you promised, smiling back and gently wiping a stray tear from his cheek with your thumb. "Come on. Let's go reheat the rest of it. I want to actually sit down, put the phones away, and eat it with you properly. Okay?"

Michael sniffled, letting out a small, relieved laugh, and nodded. "Okay. That sounds really nice."

༻✦༺

@animegamerfox @idkhonestlyy-blog1

@sebbysbaby

@liberiangirl7 @sylvette777 @angelxcs

@michaelsgirlie

@a-motherfcking-fish

@kazustqrzz

[prettyoungcee]

i am absolutely not responsible for the person i become when thick michael is brought up in the conversation

i wanna rub on his belly

[sqrixm]

18+ blurb but I’m thinking about cheating! bsf Michael and reader (I can’t help it sorry) and THEY BOTH have to answer the phone while cracking rubs hands evily together

-reminder ask or request are open!

The tension between you and Michael had always been a ticking sex bomb. Everyone else saw it, the lingering touches, the hushed whispers, the defensive, practiced chorus of "we’re just friends!" whenever anyone pried.

It only got worse when you both started dating other people. Your partners were constantly left out in the cold. Their partners always wished there had been a warning label. A manual. Some kind of fine print handed to them on the first date that read: Warning: You will always come second to Michael.

dealing with canceled plans and the infamous, unbreakable rule: Friday nights were sacred. Since you were twelve, Fridays meant just the two of you. No partners allowed. No exceptions.

Innocence faded, but the calendar never did.

To the outside world, your partners tried to play it cool. They tried to have blind faith, comforting themselves with the lie that surely you two wouldn't jeopardize such a long, rocky relationship by crossing the line.

Which brings us to Friday at 4:00 PM.

"Mikey, more..." you moan against his lips.

Michael’s tongue slides into your mouth, deep and possessive, drowning out the rest of the world. His heavy hands find your hips, dragging you flush against him on the bed. You’re still in your damp bikini, the tiny, black string one he loves and his swim trunks do nothing to hide how rock-hard he is against your thigh.

He pulls back just an inch, a thin, silver thread of saliva connecting your lips. His eyes are dark, hooded, and hungry.

"That wasn't very nice of you, baby," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw before sliding down to toy with the side-tie of your bikini bottoms.

"What wasn't?" you tease, your breath hitching as he tugs the string.

"Wearing this tiny swimsuit. You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted me to lose my mind today."

"Maybe I did," you whisper, leaning down to press a hot, wet kiss to his collarbone. "I wanted to see you lose control."

"My mind isn't the only thing losing it," Michael growls, rolling you onto your back and pinning your wrists above your head. He presses his weight into you, grinding his thick length right against your aching pussy. "You feel that? Feel how bad I want you?"

A loud, helpless whimper escapes your throat. He doesn't waste another second. He strips the damp swimwear away, his mouth finding yours again in a bruising kiss as he aligns himself and slides deep inside you.

The friction is instant, white-hot, and overwhelming. You arch your back, gripping his shoulders as he begins a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm that has you seeing stars.

"Take it," Michael groans, his forehead resting against yours as he pumps into you. "You feel me? Feel how hard I want her?"

"Yes! Mikey, yes," you sob, your head tossing back on the pillows.

Just as the pace starts to pick up, a sharp, mechanical double-ring shatters the haze.

Brring-brring!

It’s Michael’s bedside landline. The heavy, cream-colored rotary phone.

Michael freezes, buried deep inside you. He lets out a low, venomous curse. "Ignore it," he mutters, trying to resume the rhythm.

But before he can take another stroke, a second sound chiming from the bedroom floor makes your blood run cold.

Brring-brring!

Your own portable 80s phone, the one you brought over in your beach bag is ringing simultaneously.

"Shit," you gasp, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Mikey, we have to answer."

Michael’s jaw tightens. The sheer thrill of the risk flashes in his dark eyes. A wicked, dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"Fine," he whispers, his voice dripping with dark promise. "We'll answer. But you don't make a sound, baby."

He reaches over, grabbing the receiver of his bedside phone, and slides his other hand down to grip your hip, pinning you firmly to the mattress. He doesn't pull out. In fact, he sinks a fraction of an inch deeper, making you gasp. He glares at you warningly, pressing a finger to his own lips before speaking into the receiver.

"Hello?" Michael’s voice is impossibly smooth, completely masking the heavy breathing of a second ago.

“Hey, babe,” his girlfriend’s voice crackles through the receiver, loud enough in the quiet room for you to hear. “I was just calling to see if you wanted me to bring your vinyl’s back.”

Meanwhile, you desperately reach over the side of the bed, dragging your bag over to fish out your ringing phone. You press the talk button, putting it to your ear, trying to steady your breathing.

"Hello?" you whisper.

“Hey, honey,” your partner’s voice says on the line. “Just checking in. What are you and Michael up to?”

"Oh, you know," you squeak out, your eyes widening as Michael suddenly shifts his hips. He takes a slow, agonizingly deep stroke. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood to keep from screaming. "Just... playing a board game. Relaxing."

“You sound a little breathless. You okay?” your partner asks.

"Just... ran up the stairs to get the phone," you lie, your voice trembling.

On the other line, Michael’s girlfriend is still talking. “...so I figured I could drop it off around eight?”

"No, don't worry about it, sweetheart," Michael says smoothly. Underneath the blankets, he slowly draws back and thrusts in again, harder this time. He watches your face contort in pure, agonizing pleasure, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "You can give them to me tomorrow. We’re Just going to watch a movie and crash early. I'll call you tomorrow morning, okay?"

You are gripping the bedsheets so hard your knuckles are white. Michael is intentionally moving inside you, finding that exact, sensitive spot with every slow, deliberate push.

"Yeah, we're... we're just about to start the movie," you choke out to your partner, tears of pleasure gathering in the corners of your eyes. Michael leans down, his hot breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, silent to the phone, "Take it baby and be a good girl. Don't you dare slip up."

“Alright, well, have fun,” your partner says. “Tell Michael I said hi.”

"I will," you gasp, barely managing to keep your voice level as Michael delivers a sharp, blunt thrust that hits your sweet spot perfectly. "Love you. Bye."

You slam the button to hang up just as Michael says, "Love you too, babe. Bye," and cradles his receiver.

The second both lines go dead, the silence of the room is cut only by your ragged breathing.

Michael doesn't wait. He tosses the phone onto the floor and immediately pins your thighs back, his possessive, dominant energy returning tenfold. The restraint is gone.

"You did so fucking good for me," he growls, his voice deep and raspy as he begins slamming into you with relentless, heavy strokes. The mattress creaks wildly. "Telling him you love him while I'm buried deep inside you. You're such a good girl for me."

"Mikey please," you wail, the hands-free freedom letting you finally scream his name as loud as you want.

He smacks your thigh, the sharp sting sending a rush of heat straight to your crotch, causing your walls to clench tight around him. He groans, his pace turning frantic, desperate to chase the finish.

"Say thank you, Mikey, for fucking me so good," he demands, his hips crashing against yours. "Say it."

"T-thank you, Mikey, fuck! Mikey, yes!"

"That's it mama," he groans, burying his face in your neck as he delivers a few final, deep, ruinous thrusts, spilling himself inside you as you both shatter completely into the quiet afternoon.

[mikedotorg]

part five — SPIT PLAY with tito

I personally think Tito is a more vanilla typa guy, not aggressive or trying to lean into the sadomasochist stuff, but he definitely has a thing for messiness.

like you’re laid on your back, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as you both let out small moans and murmurs.

thats only on tame days when he makes love.

but when he comes back from tour and sees you? his pent up pressure is sure to be released on you.

“Oh fuck.. Tito..” you grasp his shoulders, the bed rocking back and forth, bed frame occasionally hitting the wall.

“Hm? feels good?” You nod, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “Open your mouth.” your eyes find his and you hesitate before obeying.

you gasp when he spits in your mouth.

anyone else would be disgusted but… you damn near orgasmed right there. “Swallow it.” he says, holding eye contact. You do, and he hums in approval.

his eyes move to in between your bodies, his hand coming up to his mouth to spit it in before taking it to your clit—rubbing it fast.

“oh god! Wait-… i-im..”

“Jus’ ride it out..”

the saliva added more lubricant to your already sensitive clit, causing zaps of heat to crawl up your spine.

you come with a dragged out moan—Titos thrusts never stopping as he fucks you through the orgasm.

PERM TAGS: @yourleogf @michcarrillo02-blog @princesspluuto @whimsihoe @myah4livz @jermajestysbaby @0-n-1-x @pixieelixer-24 @4ppl3h34d @fairydustdiary @siighrns @theraynecries

SERIES TAG: @youluvyanni @cinnamoncunt @missharper33 @kammykammkam @jacksonluvrr @fangirlbot @dollthoughtz @rlanar @slayqueen-23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @sayyoulovemeziya @diaryofalani @sugarzqt

series masterpost.

[angelfcee]

‧₊˚ thriller.michael being the biggest eater

If anyone had told you that the sweetest, most soft-spoken superstar on the planet was secretly a ravenous, borderline-obsessive fiend behind closed doors, you would’ve laughed. But now? Shaking, sweating, and gripping the headboard of his massive master bed for dear life, you knew the terrifying truth.

Michael was a munch. A total, unapologetic eater.

"Michael, please," you gasped, your thighs twitching violently as his warm, heavy hands locked your hips in place. "I'm—I can't. I’m too sensitive, baby, stop—"

He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. Michael just peeked up from between your legs, his damp curls clinging to his forehead, his lips glistening with your slick. His dark eyes were wide, blown-out, and completely shameless as he swiped his tongue slowly from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your aching clit, making you sob out loud.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly contrast to his usual high pitch. "I didn't say you could close your legs, beautiful. Keep 'em open for me. Let me taste how much you love me."

He was a perv, plain and simple. It didn't matter if you were trying to watch a movie, winding down after a long day, or literally just woke up; if Michael got a whiff of you, he was diving in. He treated your body like his personal, five-star buffet. He was highly addicted, completely obsessed with the natural, warm scent of your skin, especially when your everyday scent mixed with your natural wetness. He’d bury his nose in your neck, trail his lips down your stomach, and just inhale deeply between your thighs before his tongue even touched you.

He had absolutely zero boundaries, too. If you were sitting on his lap while he was writing music, his large hands would inevitably slip under your skirt to check your moisture. If you were even a little wet, he’d instantly drop to his knees on the floor, pulling your panties to the side right there. He was so incredibly visual, preferring to turn on all the bedside lamps just so he could watch his long fingers parting your rich, folds, blending beautifully against your skin. He'd even pull your lips apart himself, whispering muffled, dirty praise like, "You taste so sweet, baby... look at how much you're leaking for me," as he swallowed every single drop.

"Michael, seriously, I'm going to pass out," you whined, trying to push his head away as a fresh wave of overstimulation hit you.

But he loved when you tried to fight it. He loved the control, often pulling your hips right over his face to anchor you down, whispering, "Smother me, baby. Don't be shy." Even after you’d just had a screaming, toe-curling orgasm and your legs were shaking like jelly, Michael’s greed knew no bounds. He’d wait barely thirty seconds—just long enough for you to catch your breath—before his tongue was right back on your swollen clit. As you cried out and tried to wriggle away, he simply pinned your wrists to the mattress, looking up at you with a dark, teasing smirk. "Just a little more, mama. I need to taste my baby"

[ttangerinexo]

MJ Solo Eras as Songs! 🎶

based on vibes (my personal opinion)

A/N: I may have gotten emotional in both ends of the spectrum when thinking about these. I was originally gonna do 3 songs each but said fuck it.

Off the Wall:

The Bee Gees - Stayin’ Alive 

Stevie Wonder - Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours) 

Frankie Valli - Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Aretha Franklin - Day Dreaming

Cinderella OST - So This Is Love

I think these songs demonstrate the disco pop vibes of the OTW album while simultaneously indicating how I feel when I look at him during this era. I feel visceral cuteness aggression for him, lemme put him in my pocket. I just wanna take a bite.

MJ had garnered a lot of attention from being in the Jackson 5 so he was HUNGRY to prove he could do more as he transitioned from his group to his solo career while still being a cutie patootie, only in his early 20s!

Thriller:

Whitney Houston - I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)

ABBA - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)

Daryl Hall & John Oates - You Make My Dreams (Come True)

Salt-N-Peppa - Push It

Foreigner - I Want To Know What Love Is

This album has different vibes and I had to think hard about how to allocate songs for this era. Settled for describing my feelings again based on my favourite songs on the album (the romantic ballads).

The best selling album of all time. He looked so dreamy during this time, still extremely young. His creative direction took a turn when he started making short films for his music while collaborating with other great artists like Eddie Van Halen (uncredited) and Paul McCartney.

Bad:

Survivor - Eye of the Tiger

ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

The Stranglers - Golden Brown 

Sade - Smooth Operator

INXS - Need You Tonight

A man who could throw hands. He was no one-hit-album-wonder and he was back, hungrier than ever despite the Pepsi incident. He was his own competitor. And he always seemed to sport a shit-eating grin- something was in the air in the 80s. I wanna ride that belt so bad

He wanted to break his OWN records that he set from Thriller with Bad. The short films became more detailed and the dancing incorporated different styles. The title track and short film 'Bad' served as his epic comeback, demonstrating he was still climbing charts after his booming success with Thriller. Soon after he launched his first solo tour, the 'Bad' tour.

Dangerous:

Coolio ft. L.V. - Gangster’s Paradise 

Genuwine - Pony

Mariah Carey - My All

Sade - Is It a Crime

Salt-N-Peppa, En Vogue - Whatta Man

I feel feral. Congratufuckyoulations to Lisa Marie Presley. STILL a black man. I love the album cover.

The Dangerous album led to a lot more humanitarian acts and he had parted ways with Quincy Jones to work with Teddy Riley. A different sound to his previous albums, given how it took a darker direction but still a monumental album in its own right. He collaborated with Slash, lead guitarist of Guns N' Roses for his track 'Give In to Me'. He launched the 'Dangerous' tour soon after.

HIStory/Blood on the Dancefloor:

Pocahontas OST - Colours of the Wind

Brandy & Monica - The Boy is Mine

2pac, Dr Dre, Roger - California Love

9 Inch Nails - Closer

Bon Jovi - Wanted Dead or Alive

Black Eyed Peas - Where Is The Love?

Jodeci - Freek'n'you

The allegations came out during this time hence Bon Jovi. I thought 'Colours of the Wind' fit perfectly given the songs he wrote. One of these is not like the others. My second favourite era of his, aesthetics-wise. As a desi and gold girlie, I have so much appreciation for all the gold he was wearing during this time. He looked so devastating and regal. Fatherhood looked too good on him. Oh, to be an adult during the 90s.

This era took a bit of a darker turn with the two albums, delving deeper into themes of sensuality, fame, racism, self-worth, and politics through songs like 'Earth Song', 'Blood on the Dancefloor', 'Morphine', 'Keep the Faith', 'Stranger in Moscow', 'Money', etc. He also wrote songs for the film 'Free Willy 2'. Shortly after, he launched the 'HIStory' world tour, where he was seen sporting the iconic gold pants. Don't look too hard.

Invincible i.e. Mature era:

Jay-Z, UGK - Big Pimpin’

Daft Punk - One More Time

Shaggy, Rayvon - Angel

The Weeknd - Acquainted

The Weeknd, Daft Punk - I Feel It Coming

Bruno Mars - Just The Way You Are

In 2005, he was acquitted of his child molestation charges after around a decade's worth of court runs and investigations which is why I think Daft Punk's One More Time fit, due to it being an upbeat and celebratory song. I think the others are self explanatory. The man aged like fine wine. Invincible is also my second favourite album after thriller, I truly believe it's some of MJ's best work. was debating between shaggy and akon's I wanna fuck you

His most expensive album to produce as it took around 30 million USD with state of the art equipment, intense vocal training, and famous producers like Teddy Riley and Rhodney Jenkins working tirelessly. The album is different to his previous work because he experimented with r&b themes. Invincible producer Jenkins went onto work with famous artists like Usher, Justin Bieber, Justin Timberlake, etc. It is evident how the album influenced modern pop and r&b music.

Bonus songs because I miss him so much:

Player - Baby Come Back

Christina Perri - a thousand years

We The Kings, Elena Coats - Sad Song

Avicii - Wake Me Up

Wiz Khalifa, Charlie Puth - See You Again

Hozier - Work Song

Bruno Mars - Talking to the Moon

Vengaboys - Shalala Lala

Lindsey Stirling, Otto Knows, Alex Aris - Dying for You

Regina Spektor - The Call (Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian OST)

Black Eyed Peas - Meet Me Halfway

Ariana Grande - One Last Time

Coldplay - The Scientist

Lana Del Rey - Young and Beautiful

What songs would you assign to MJ's eras? 𑣲𝄞

[missbilliejean]

Pls we need an alternative happy ending to “just call my name and I’ll be there” PLEASE I CANNOT BE FIXED UNTIL THEN I BEG

a different ending, one I wish could have happened for Michael.

original story is here: just call my name, and ill be there

just call my name, and I'll be there (forever)

꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂

"All of me will always love you," he said.

The words cut right through you, and you turned to walk through the sliding glass doors, tears blinding your sight. But before the doors could shut, a frantic hand caught the glass.

"Wait!"

You turned. Michael stumbled into the lobby, his face pale, chest heaving. He grabbed your hands, his voice trembling with a desperate, sudden clarity.

"I’m quitting the tour," he choked out, ignoring the staring hotel staff. "I don't care about the promoters. I don't care about the debts. Yes, I need the money, but I’ll figure it out. I'll sell everything. I'll do anything-as long as I have you. I'll throw the pills away right now, in front of you. Just please... don't leave me."

Looking into his pleading eyes, you saw the husband you had lost, finally fighting to come back. You nodded, your own tears spilling over. "Okay," you whispered. "I'm not gonna leave Michael. You are not alone"

༻✦༺

That night, in the quiet sanctuary of Michales bedroom, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Michael stood over the bathroom sink, his hands trembling as he stared at the little amber bottles of prescription pills in his palm. Slowly, with a deep, shaky breath, he tipped his hand over the toilet bowl and flushed them all away, watching the chemical haze of his past disappear.

But he knew throwing them away wasn’t enough. He needed to cut the anchor completely.

With a look of fierce, quiet determination, Michael picked up his phone. You watched from the doorway as he dialed a number he knew by heart. When the call connected, Michael’s voice didn’t waver. It was firmer, stronger, and more grounded than it had been in years.

"Conrad," Michael said, his voice cutting through the quiet room. "It’s over. Don't come to the house tonight. Don't bring the medicine. I don't need you, and I don't want you near me or my family ever again. You're fired."

He hung up the phone before Dr. Murray could even utter a word of protest, setting the device face-down on the counter. When Michael turned back to you, he looked lighter, as if a physical weight had finally been lifted from his chest.

He didn’t say another word. He walked straight to where you sat on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you. He rested his forehead against your knees, his shoulders shaking as a quiet, relieved sob escaped him.

"I'm so tired," he whispered, his voice muffled against your clothes. "I've been so tired for so long."

"I know, my love," you murmured, running your fingers through his soft, dark curls. "I know. But you're safe now. I've got you."

You gently pulled him up, and together you crawled beneath the cool sheets. The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the bedside lamp, casting gentle shadows across his face. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping his long legs around yours, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck as if trying to merge his very soul with yours.

"I used to dream about this," Michael whispered into the dark, his breath warm against your skin. "In those big, empty hotel rooms in London, in Ireland... I would close my eyes and try to force myself to feel the warmth of your hand. When I think back to the last time I had full nights rest without the meds, it was when you were next to me"

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. His eyes, now completely clear and focused, swam with a deep, reverent adoration.

"You are my home," he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. "You've always been my only home."

"And you are mine," you whispered, leaning up to press a soft, slow, tender kiss to his lips. It was a slow pouring of all the love you had saved for him over the years of silence.

He kissed you back with a gentle, aching reverence, his hands cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the universe. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you," he promised against your lips. "I swear."

༻✦༺

For the first time in years, Michael fell in a deep sleep.

He didn't need a chemical shadow to chase away the night. He lay his head against your chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thrum of your heartbeat. With his hand wrapped securely in yours, his breathing slowed, and he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep- completely natural, kept safe by the simple rhythm of your breathing beside him.

༻✦༺

June 25th 2009

The next morning, the bright California sun filled the room. Michael was shaken awake by his phone ringing relentlessly. It was his lead attorney, his voice trembling through the receiver.

"Michael... we don't understand it," the lawyer stammered. "Your entire debt. The hundreds of millions of dollars. It’s all gone. Every single cent was quietly wired and paid off in full this morning by an anonymous offshore trust. The This Is It contracts are legally voided. You don't need to do anything anymore, you are entirely free."

Michael dropped the phone onto the sheets, staring blankly ahead as tears of pure, shock-induced relief began to stream down his face.

"I don't understand," he whispered, looking at you. "Who would do that for me?"

You smiled a soft, knowing smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

During the divorce, you had refused his money and half of Neverland because you didn't want a single dime from him. But they never knew about the silent, massive fortune you had built on your own off the grid, or the investments you had quietly accumulated over the years. You had kept it entirely secret, waiting for the exact moment he was ready to save himself so you could take the crushing weight of the world off his shoulders.

༻✦༺

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he wept into your shoulder- this time, out of pure happiness. The music hadn't stopped, the world hadn't ended, and for the first time in his life, Michael was finally free.

"You know I used to think about what I would say if I lost you," you whispered, resting your cheek against his. "I thought I'd have to live the rest of my life saying I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Michael buried his face in your neck, his voice shaking with a beautiful, breathless laugh as he squeezed you tighter.

"Never, its going to be me and you for the rest of our lives, forever"

༻✦༺

please accept this as an apology for the original post, LOL

to the girlies who showed support and love in my original post I hope this makes you feel better xx shoutout them:

@a-motherfcking-fish@animegamerfox@idkhonestlyy-blog1@sebbysbaby@liberiangirl7 @sylvette777 @naturallykae @pyt03 @kazustqrzz @angelxcs @aestheticgrungecrybaby @eariyy @seniaaine @steven-grants-world @michaeljacksonsbae

[naturallykae]

“Michael… I’m Married.”

pairing: bad!michael jackson x black fem!reader

wc: 5,6k+

summary: He was shameless. Even the day of your wedding to his best friend wasn’t off limits.

warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, no use of y/n, cheating, infidelity, pet names, michael loves being the side piece and he’s greedy af too, oral (m receiving), dub-con (if you squint), spit, choking, soft (?) dom michael, back shots, unprotected p in v, tummy bulge, praise kink, possessive!michael, lowkey toxic!michael but you don’t want to be saved

disclaimer: this one is a little nastier than MFM. i couldn’t stop my fingers from typing this. it’s longer than i would’ve liked bc i entered a flow state on the stairmaster smh. proofread but im human so mistakes happen. fuck ai. i don’t know that bitch.

dividers by @pixopix

How you went from standing up at the alter, prim and proper, reciting your vows to your now husband to on your knees in your reception dress with your lover smudging your lipstick with the weeping head of his dick was all a blur.

You often revisit that day when your boyfriend of two years at the time, Nick, introduced you to his best friend and long time collaborator, Michael Jackson. To say you were star struck would be an understatement. You had met other celebrities and big names in the entertainment industry before but they were never him. He was in a league all by himself.

It took you by surprise when after getting to know him little by little, that he was just as normal as the next person. Incredibly down to earth. Generous to a fault. Unfailingly charming to everyone, no matter their status.

That was how he sucked you into his web of wickedness. The descent was so subtle you didn’t realize he had you in his grasp until you were addicted.

There was nothing you could’ve said to dissuade your then fiancé to choose someone else as his best man — he was adamant.

“You sure you couldn’t have picked anybody else? Maybe you brother? He’s not available?”

“Babe, you know my brother will be deployed by then. He hates having to miss the wedding but ain’t nothing we can do about that.”

“Well, what about—“

“We’ve been going back and forth about this for weeks. What’s the problem? I thought you liked Mike, baby,” Nick had sighed.

You had cringed at how this obviously wasn’t going in your favor. It was beginning to sound eerily like ‘the lady doth protests too much’.

Oh you liked Mike alright. You liked Mike when he had your legs stretched above your head while he drilled into you like nothing else, least of all your cervix, mattered. Or when he whispered absolute filth in your ear during big company dinners and he coincidentally got sat next to you. Or those stolen carnal moments when he’d have you on your knees while he painted your face in his rich cum.

That was the last time you brought the subject up for fear that your concerns would lead your partner down a road with which you couldn’t hide. Michael would be the best man at your wedding. He would be standing up there as you read your vows, all the while knowing how your face contorted in the throes of passion and the way your body sang for his touch alone.

Yeah you might have liked him but deep down you despised his very presence for how he’d turned you into some untruthful heathen desperate for the taste of him. It was sickening. You hated yourself after every encounter — telling yourself that was the last time, just for him to only have to send you a look and your resolve crumbled immediately.

For one man to have such a chokehold on you left you spinning.

No one else knew of your predicament. It was too complicated to ever bring anyone else in to the situation. You would have no explanation for yourself if they tried to analyze it.

The whole morning of your wedding you were a bundle of nervousness. You hardly ate your breakfast. Your speech was reduced to a few words per reply. Everyone simply assumed it was typical wedding day jitters.

If only they knew the truth of the matter.

The truth being you knew Michael lurked somewhere in the building with his sharp jawline, tailored suit and devil may care attitude. You knew he was close, you could feel it in your chest. He was simply waiting for his opportune moment to snatch you up. That thought should have scared you and the worst part was that it didn’t.

Gale, your makeup artist for the day, was finishing up on your face when a knock came at the door. One of your bridesmaids peeked outside first before widening the door to reveal your mother, carrying a medium sized box that matched the color of your dress. She beamed at you through the mirror.

“Hi, mommy!” A wide smile broke your face.

“My baby. My baby. My baby.” She gathered you in her arms and squeezed you in the way only she could. Her perfume invaded your senses. Your eyes prickled and your throat tightened a little from the familiarity.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you stepped back and fanned yourself.

“Oh my sweet girl, it’s okay. This whole day will go by so quickly you won’t remember any of this,” your mother soothed, grabbing your hands and squeezing.

“Let’s hope that’s true,” you laughed tearfully. “I’m so glad you could make it. Is daddy here?”

“Now what makes you think we’d miss our only child’s wedding? Especially after that man of yours put us up in that nice hotel, oh yeah we needed us a vacation. He’s waiting down in the entrance hall ready to give you away.”

“Well this is the best present I’ve ever received! I was just worried cause I know y’all don’t like planes.” You sat down with your mother on the couch in the dressing room.

Your glam team and bridesmaids all filed out of the room, leaving you and your mother alone.

“That doesn’t matter. We would do anything for you, honey bee.”

Your eyes, against your will, started filling again with your mother noticing immediately. She fanned your face and dabbed at your eyes with a knuckle not wanting to ruin your makeup.

“You look so beautiful. Looking just like ya mama. You really oughta thank me.” The change in seriousness made you burst out in laughter and her shoulders shook a little too.

“Oh, I almost forgot! You know I be scatterbrained sometimes.” She reached behind her to grab that box she came in with. She told you to go sit back at the vanity and you looked at her with curiosity.

“What’s in the box, mommy?”

“It’s the most stunning thing. I can’t wait for you to see it!”

“Well don’t make me wait all day.”

“Little girl hush. I’m trying to build the anticipation.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and smirking.

The moment your mother turned around with a diamond encrusted tiara your jaw dropped. The jewels caught the light streaming in from the windows and bathed the room in its sparkle. It took your breath away.

“How did you— Where did you— I’m speechless.” Eyes wide with awe. This was unreal.

She chuckled, lifting it over your head. “He thought you would be. That man knows you well. And I can’t lie it is beautiful.” She tucked the tiara into your hair without messing up your style and stepped back to let you admire it.

“Who, daddy?” You questioned absentmindedly, gently touching your hair.

“No, baby, Mr. Jackson.”

This was one of those tire screeching, record scratching, bubble popping moments that happened in the movies. Your hand froze with a strand of hair twirled around it and your eyes locked onto the headpiece. Even your breathing momentarily ceased.

Your mother continued speaking as though you weren’t waging a war internally.

The rhythmic beat of your heart crescendoed as you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. How fucking dare he do this to you? And to recruit your innocent unsuspecting mother as well? Oh that bastard was going to feel your wrath once you got ahold of him.

You knew what this was. It was him staking his claim on you while hiding in plain sight. Everyone else would be none the wiser of his intentions but you knew. And you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he knew you knew. You wouldn’t be surprised if Michael even told Nick that he would be getting you that. Your sweet, gullible partner would simply think it was a kind gesture.

The worst part being is that you couldn’t control the way your stomach fluttered seeing the tiara on your head. Knowing Michael must have spent what was probably pocket change to him on this bold piece set your body aflame.

You swallowed dryly and tried to think of a quick excuse as to why you would not be wearing this obscene heavy thing down the aisle. Surely you could make a case about it not being proper wearing jewelry another man bought you on your wedding day?

“Mommy, this looks so expensive. I wouldn’t want to trip and drop it or something. Maybe we should just put it back in the box. I’ll thank Michael later.” You tried to untangle your hair from the tiara though for some reason it wouldn’t move.

“No ma’am. He told me that no matter how much you protested you had to wear it. It was his gift to you.” Your mother slapped your hands away from your head. You shook the sting away, gasping in betrayal.

“And besides, my baby is a princess. I think you should look like one on your big day.” She kissed the side of your head and squeezed your shoulder before exiting the room, saying she was going to find her seat and check on your father.

The day was turning out to be more stressful than what it was worth.

It wasn’t like you didn’t love Nick, because you did. He was smart, ambitious, endearing and handsome. He was the whole package and then some. Much better than any of the guys you had the misfortune to cross paths with in your early twenties. He was everything a woman could wish for.

One of your best friends was a rising star at Epic Records and they were having a party to celebrate all of their artists when she invited you to be her plus one. You hadn’t expected to really meet anyone there but fate had other plans. You had wandered off from the party to find a restroom and ran into Nick as you found yourself lost on the way back. He was a recording engineer at the company and he offered to show you what he does in the studio then the rest was history.

You would have never guessed this was what your life would evolve into. Marrying one man while in an active affair with the most famous, and sexiest, man alive.

It took everything in you to keep your voice clear and steady during your wedding vows. All eyes in the church were on you but only one set felt like the rays of ten suns.

The forsaking all others part of the vows had your voice trembling though you knew to those on the outside, it would appear as if you were overcome with emotion. You and one other knew the truth. The sweat gathering under your arms and breasts was overstimulating.

Sweating like a sinner in church indeed.

You fought bravely not to glance at Michael behind your partner. The man was the physical embodiment of a distraction. With strands of his hair curled in front of his face, that enticing smile he did while biting his bottom lip and those eyes… Fuck, you hated his pretty ass. He stood slightly off to the side where his face would be perfectly visible to you. Everything he did was intentional.

The energy radiating off of him when you had stepped at the altar wearing that flashy tiara was palpable. You could taste it. He was so pleased with himself.

Though with your back straight and head held high, you didn’t even spare him a sideways glance. Internally, you pat yourself on the back for your restraint.

The ceremony itself didn’t last long and you thanked every God imaginable for that. You and Nick exited the church with the people throwing rice in the air and releasing doves. The photographer wanted a picture before you both hopped in the limo and road to the reception destination. Nick wrapped one arm around your waist and hiked one of your legs up then dipped you into a deep kiss.

With that, the wedding guest cheered and the pictures were taken. Your husband ushered you into the car and before the door shut completely, you caught sight of Michael clapping with the rest of the wedding party. He was smiling but you knew better. He was going to hunt you down the first chance he got.

A chill ran down your spine but cold you were not.

The reception finally underway, you and your husband’s grand entrance during cocktail hour was met with loud stomps, cheers and whistling. The sting in your cheeks from smiling for so long was starting to wear on your nerves. The day hadn’t gone too disastrously though there was still this heavy anticipation that loomed over your thoughts.

Once making your rounds to your guests, the maid of honor shoved two rum shots in your hand, helping you loosen up. From your view up at the high table with your husband, everything seemed to be moving smoothly. Your guests were mostly comprised of friends of your husband’s who were in the business, with a sprinkle of his and your families.

Nick sat beside you leaned over talking to one of his groomsmen while holding your hand, thumb swiping over your ring. It gave you little comfort as you ignored a certain pair of eyes on you.

Just as you stood to flee to the bathroom, the band queued up a song, it flooded the amps. A familiar tune. Extremely familiar. Your body turned rigid recognizing the melody.

Then his voice floated through your ears. That silky hypnotic weapon that was formed against you. He was already staring at you when your eyes locked on him.

There’ll be no darkness tonight

Lady, our love will shine

Just put your trust in my heart

And meet in paradise

“I want to dedicate this song to the glowing couple. To the Mr. and Mrs, my closest friends, I wish for your life to be filled with nothing but joyful light and tenderness.” Michael gestured for you and Nick to make your way to the dance floor for your first dance.

He knew you wouldn’t be able to protest in front of all of your guests. That bastard… singing this song to you, in front of your spouse and friends and family. It was indecent, yet the clench of your thighs spoke heavily of your body’s betrayal.

Stiffly, you stood in Nick’s arms with your fingers clasped behind his head. He swayed you both smoothly. Your face being the picture of serenity but internally, all of your nerves were going haywire.

So, listen to my heart

Lay your body close to mine

Let me fill you with my dreams

I can make you feel alright

It was too much staring into Nick’s soft brown eyes so you rested your face on his chest. He was tall and strong and such a good man. You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

As Michael sang, he glided around the room as if on a cloud though his stare never once left you. He enchanted everyone with his gift. You felt you were going crazy because no one else seemed to notice. You were unsure if this was a good or bad thing.

So I promise you tonight

That you will always be the lady in my life

You knew a threat when you heard one. Breath stalling in your throat, you felt your eyes stinging as the guilt spread through you for what wouldn’t be the last time of the night. You tightened your arms around your husband and he pecked your temple, believing nothing amiss except his wife being rightfully emotional.

Come to me, girl

And I will keep you warm

Through the shadows of the night

Let me touch you with my love

I can make you feel so right

Your eyes glazed over thinking about how Michael would have you wrapped in the sheets of his bed as he rocked gently into you. Kissing your tears away while he reached depths no one ever had before. The way your breath would catch when he would praise you for taking him so well, claiming you were the only one who could.

It wasn’t just those tender moments that took your mind away. There was a certain addiction you had for how Michael could render you dumb and compliant. His huge hand spanking your ass when he was digging in you from behind. That skilled tongue of his punishing you with orgasm after orgasm because you threatened to cut him off.

“You couldn’t leave me even if you wanted to, pretty girl. Now kiss me like you fuckin’ mean it,” he would say smugly before cursing you with a toe-curling kiss.

Don’t you go nowhere

You’re my lady

All through the night

It was only a matter of time before your body began responding to his serenade — nipples tightening in your silk shift dress and your underwear dampening.

He was your utter weakness. Once you had one taste of him, you couldn’t get enough. Stuck on him like a drug addict and you had no clue how to free yourself or even if you wanted to at all. Something underneath your skin began to itch like it did when Michael was near. He sounded like he was getting closer but you knew he would never make any bold moves in front of Nick.

Let me fill you, baby

All over, all over, all over

Lay back with me

Let me touch you, girl

Lay back with me

All over, all over, all over

He had plans for you today. That much was abundantly clear. You didn’t know what or when but he was coming for you. The passion in his voice alluded to nothing else. Your heart beat with the thunder of a stampede of a hundred wild horses.

When the song ended you kissed your husband with a “Love you,” and plastered a grateful and bashful smile on your face, clapping for your oh so gracious wedding singer. He bowed to you and Nick, thanking the guests. However, you didn’t miss the dark look that passed over his face before he smoothed it over to something innocent.

The band played something light, allowing the guest to get up and move freely. With them grabbing more drinks from the open bar and mingling. Leaving Nick to his networking, you spoke a little to your parents again before claiming to need to use the restroom to freshen up, exiting the banquet hall as quickly as you could.

You had to put some distance between yourself and the suffocating feeling you were experiencing from being in there. You took a set of stairs and many twists and turns, somehow finding yourself on the other side of the large building and only then could you exhale. Pushing open some huge mahogany doors, you found yourself in the most decadent dressing room you had ever seen. Large tub, a wall of mirror above his and hers sinks with marble flooring near the bath and sink and plush carpet on the vanity side — it was beautiful. There was a big glass stained window that over looked the courtyard with all your guest below.

Spinning your wedding ring with your thumb while lost in thought, you stood in the window for what could’ve been a minute or ten, you weren’t counting. The jovial chatter down below couldn’t even break through your consciousness.

Then… there was a shift in the air.

One thing about Michael was that his energy announced his presence long before his voice did.

You heaved a small sigh, not turning around. “Get out.”

“Oh, princess, you don’t mean that.” His voice in that deeper register that made you ache. The condescension in his words made you jump a little.

“The fuck I don’t. Get out, Michael.” When you turned around, he was leaning on the sink counter with his arms and legs crossed, looking the picture of nonchalant and sexy. He had ditched his suit jacket only leaving a white button down, crisp black slacks and an obnoxiously sized gold belt.

“You’ve looked stunning all day, y’know that?” His eyes blatantly devoured you head to toe.

“Thank you but I’m not playing this game with you today. It’s not right, so please leave.” You jerked your head to the door.

“You think I’m playing a game, princess?”

“No, I know you are! Don’t think I didn’t catch your intentions making me wear that tiara. Why the fuck would you do that, Michael?” You stood your ground, firmly planting your feet. There was safety in distance from this man.

He shrugged. “Because I knew it would look beautiful on you. And I was right. You’re welcome.”

“I ain’t thanking you for shit. I know what you’re doing. I told you not to pull anything today and it’s like you took my words as a joke. Lady in My Life, are you serious?”

He threw his hands up in defense. “Hey now, I didn’t choose that. Your husband did. I just thought it was too good to pass up. Perfect song, don’t you think?” He lowered his head to look up at you through his lashes and your stomach did a flip.

“You’re such an ass! Get out!” You petulantly stomped your foot. He was purposely riling you up.

Michael watched you in amusement and a smirk pulling at his lips. He pushed off the counter and began to circle you slowly like a shark. You hugged yourself in an attempt to keep from reaching out to grab him.

“How’d you feel? Standing up at that altar with another man… when all your thoughts are consumed by me,” he taunted.

“You are so sure of yourself. It’s sickening.”

“You tried so hard not to look at me all damn day. How you think that makes me feel, baby?” His tone took on a hint of hardness. A certain thrill tingled in your finger tips at the thought that you ruffled his feathers a little too.

You side eyed him with a smirk. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

In the blink of an eye, he had your neck in his grasp and you gasped, instinctively grabbing his wrist. With your chin tilted, he forced you to meet his eyes and what was there made you shiver. He had lost all humor in his face. Desire bloomed in your gut seeing the seriousness and heat in his expression.

“You been talking to me real crazy and I think I’ve let it go on for long enough. Give me a kiss.”

You tried to shake your head but the pressure on your neck persisted.

“Don’t be disobedient today of all days. It’s not gone get you what you want, princess. And I know what you want… don’t I always?” He whispered against your cheek. He smelled like gin and bad decisions.

“Michael… I’m married,” your voice cracked as you pled one last time. There was only so much strength you had. You weren’t made of steel.

He laughed mockingly, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Now, kiss me damn it.”

Your body moved on its own accord as you practically lunged at Michael and attacked his lips with your own. Moaning as his tongue danced with yours, you couldn’t help thinking that he always tasted so damn good. You tangled your manicured fingers in his curls as his hands pulled your waist flushed against his, and that stupid ass belt was digging into your abdomen.

He set the rhythm while tongues and teeth clashed. Your brain screamed that you should push him away but your limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Another moan tore from your throat as he sucked on your tongue and you responded by tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth.

He kissed you like he owned you. You’d be a fool to believe he didn’t.

One of his hands gripped and kneaded your ass cheeks. You squeaked into his mouth when he slapped one and then the other, the juicy flesh recoiling each time. You dug your nails in his back and shoulders, melting deeper into his kiss.

You pulled back and trailed hot kisses down his neck while your hands tried to undo his belt. Your hand brushed against his rock-hard bulge as it strained in his pressed slacks. He panted, stopping you and you whined desperately.

“You haven’t been my good girl today. We have to rectify that.” His big eyes schemed.

“But I—“

“Down.”

Knees hitting the carpet before your brain processed it, you waited with bated breath.

The pad of his index finger traced your jaw and cheekbones. His thumb swiped across your lips before dipping in your mouth and you sucked on it without a second thought. You didn’t flinch when he grabbed your face and squeezed it to open your mouth.

“Open f’me.” Your eyes widened as he spat in your mouth with precision. Almost as if activated, a thick haze clouded your thoughts as the warm liquid trickled down your throat.

The glazed look in your lidded eyes must’ve told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled darkly watching your throat swallow his spit and your pupils dilating.

“There she is. My good, obedient girl,” he cooed. “I know what you need, mama, don’t worry.”

You watched his skilled fingers remove his belt, throwing it behind him, and he unzipped his pants letting his dick fall out, hitting you across the face. Your underwear was drenched and you felt like your body was burning.

The drooling mushroom tip had your mouth watering and sped up your breathing. It had been at least two weeks since you last had him in your mouth, trying to quit cold turkey and all but just the sight of his impressive length made you question why you would try to deprive yourself like that. You missed sucking him off. You longed for the weight of his dick on your tongue, the raw taste of his foreskin, that sting of him abusing your throat, the way the lack of oxygen would send you over the edge before he could even touch you.

He took his erection in hand at the base, guiding the head to your lips and traced your lips like lipstick. Your eyes stung at the humiliation of it all but you were too desperate to say anything. You peaked your tongue out, stealing a minute taste.

“Go ahead. Take what you need.”

You basically inhaled his dick when he gave you the green light. Oh it felt like greeting an old friend. You turned your brain off as you worked your way down his girthy shaft, coating it with your spit in abundance.

Relaxing your gag reflex, you took him further in your mouth and used your hands to cover the few inches you couldn’t take. Jaw slackening with your lips stretched wide, he glided in and out of your mouth. He growled when hitting the back of your throat. Expertly breathing out your nose was muscle memory for you.

He bucked his hips and guided your movements with his hand lightly on the top of your head. You just knew your face was a mess with the way saliva was dripping out of your mouth. The moans you struggled to contain only vibrated against his fat dick. If it was possible he got even harder.

You continued to squeeze your thighs, hoping for some relief. Your clit was hard and throbbing and your inner thighs were damp with your arousal.

Michael whispered phrases of praise you couldn’t concentrate on you because your senses were in overload. You pulled back and inhaled deeply. There was a string of saliva that followed your lips. It dribbled down onto your chin and in your cleavage.

“I wish you could see how pretty you look, my girl. In fact…” He hauled you up off your knees and lead you to the sink, dick still bobbing between his legs. You stumbled once because of how weak your legs were presently.

A gasp entered the air once you absorbed your visage in the mirror. Makeup runny, puffy lips shiny and your pupils blown wide.

Michael stood behind you with his hardness pressed against your ass and he rocked into you. One hand came up to your belly, then cupped your breast through your dress and you keened lowly when he grabbed your neck again. He gripped your chin forcing you to look at him through the mirror. He looked a little disheveled himself. Satisfaction bled through you.

“Beautiful. A fuckin’ vision you are.” He kissed the side of your head. “You see how good we look together? But you didn’t want this for real.”

You wigged your ass on his dick and he bit his lip. “Michael, don’t…” You didn’t need to be reminded that you married someone else. He knew what he signed up for.

His face was cracked by a devious smile. “Baby, you’re not in charge here.” He pushed your shoulders down until you were bent over the sink. He flipped the dress up to reveal your dark red lace thong — his favorite color.

“All this time…” He palmed the fat of your cheeks with reverence. He moaned weakly and your stomach clenched at the sound of it.

Whatever restraint he had possessed vanished in an instant. He ripped your thong in two, leaving it a piece of fabric on the floor. The burn of him stretching you without preparing you fully stole the breath from your lungs. You cried out and your vision blurred with tears.

His long dick stretched deep, destroying your walls with little care. You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming the building down. Your hips moved back to meet his thrusts as your body adjusted in record time. Your moans drowned out the sloshing of your wet pussy. It was obscene.

“So tight. All f’me. Mmm. ” He gripped your hips so hard you just hoped there wouldn’t be visible bruises later. You tried to gain purchase of any part of the sink to hold on to as Michael set a bruising pace. A spark flickered in your core that begged to be ignited to a full flame.

“I can’t— I can’t take it, Mikey,” you whimpered.

“You can. You always do, princess.” He caressed your tummy feeling himself permanently ruining you for anybody else. He reached between your legs to thumb your neglected clit. Those tears fell in relief. Your head was pounding.

“You take this dick so good. You know why?” He spoke through clenched teeth. His fingers sped up. Your slick flooded out of you, drenching his balls and thighs. You didn’t speak and in response, he pushed so deep in you that you felt like he was in your lungs at this point.

“You know why?”

You shook your head, tongue falling out your mouth, unable to respond verbally. You couldn’t think properly.

He leaned over your back and continued his rhythm. Black spot flooded your vision as your fingers splayed the counter top.

“Because you love me,” Michael whispered.

You cried out as your release rippled through you. The combination of his true words, the punishing thrusts and knowing you were cheating on your husband who was wholly unaware his best friend was abusing your guts totally sent you over the edge.

His hips lost their rhythm as his own orgasm drew near. You were blessed with a moment of clarity, remembering you weren’t on birth control and you couldn’t let him come in you. You would before but you for damn sure couldn’t do it now with this ring on your finger. Thankfully, he seemed to be on the same page because he pulled out at the last second and came all over your debauched pussy.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You felt worn out and spent. You felt his spend rolling down your nether lips and dripping on the floor, contributing to the mix of fluids.

Closing your eyes, you sank down to the ground, feeling compelled to lie there. This was so fucked. You tried to ween yourself off of him but if anything, that made your addiction worse. You had no clue how you were going to get over this. Nick could never know.

How long you’ve been gone from the party was unimaginable to you. The explanation for your absence would have to be good one.

Michael tucked himself back in his pants and moved to right himself, while you were a blob on the floor. He made it look so effortless. He looked so damn good. You hated his ass so bad.

“I hate you,” you muttered, gathering yourself and ignoring the ripped underwear near your foot. The sight of yourself in the mirror scared you. Thick pressed hair nearly sweated out tumbling out of its carefully done updo and your face looked like who done it and why.

“Oh baby, if only that were true.” He fixed his collar and winked at you through the mirror. You didn’t even have the energy to sneer at him how you wanted.

“I’ll make your excuses when I go back downstairs so you can take care of yourself,” he assured softly with his hand on the door knob.

You felt a rush of affection hit you. “Thanks, Michael.”

“And please, do take your time. You look a mess.” He then darted out the door when you threw your shoe in his direction with lightning fast reflexes and laughed loudly in that irritating way that you loved.

You stared at your reflection and felt disgust consume you. This was the last time… For real this time.

a/n: don’t be out here cheating yall. if it’s michael tho feel free to ;) would love to know your thoughts on this particular piece!

[missbilliejean]

just call my name, and I'll be there

summary: After their ten-year marriage ended, they find each other one last time, the night before the world stopped.

warning: please note this story is based off real life events of Michaels passing. Reading this may be deeply emotional and sensitive to viewers.

get ready to cry!

꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂

The silence of the house on the day you left was the loudest sound you had ever heard. Ten years of marriage, of shared dreams and quiet midnights, collapsed into a single afternoon.

You didn’t want his money. When his lawyers, acting on his desperate orders to "give her whatever she wants, half of Neverland, anything," approached you, you turned it all down. You didn't want a settlement; you wanted the man you had married back.

But he was gone, buried under a mountain of yes-men, relentless work, and the heavy haze of painkillers he promised he’d quit. He had shut you out to protect his addiction, the addiction you tried so desperately to get him out of, yet he refused and pushed you away to protect himself, and leaving was the only way to survive the heartbreak.

After the split, you went completely off the grid. You changed your number, moved away, and built a quiet, isolated life where no one knew your name or your past. But Michael always found a way. Over the years, the letters came to your private box. one every single day.

You never replied. Every letter broke your heart a little more, and you kept them all locked in a wooden box beneath your bed. You knew that if you answered even once, you would run right back to him, and you both would fall straight back into the beautiful, destructive cycle.

༻✦༺

The notes were a shifting map of his fractured mind. Some were filled with agonizing apologies, others were nostalgic timelines of your milestones, your wedding day, the quiet mornings, the laughter. Some were desperate pleas for forgiveness, instantly followed by another note apologising for breaking the silence.

༻✦༺

I went to Elizabeths wedding today, her 8th one now I think. Do you remember the time we went to her first wedding together? You looked so beautiful in that blue dress, i remember us dancing that entire night. Just us.

I got another fish today, I thought about how if you were here, you would be demanding we name it something ridiculous. Like taco or sushi or something. I just ended up naming him Frank, funny names aren't funny anymore unless you're the one naming them.

Today would have been our 12th anniversary, I wish I could be next to you right now, I wonder what we would have done for it. Nice dinner maybe, Disneyland, or maybe we would have just had a night in to celebrate. I miss you.

I know I shouldn't be writing you, I know I should let you live in peace, I love you, i'm sorry.

༻✦༺

But no matter the tone, every single letter ended with the exact same sentence, It was the promise he had whispered to you in his vows on the day you married, a callback to the classic song he had sung with his brothers so many years ago:

"Just call my name, and I'll be there."

it was written in small handwriting at the bottom of every single letter. Your signature words you used to say to each other.

༻✦༺

June 24, 2009 - Los Angeles, 9:00 PM

The pull of the city eventually brought you back. You found yourself driving toward the one place in the world that belonged strictly to the two of you. It was a secluded, scenic overlook tucked away in the hills-the exact spot where you first met by chance, where you got married under the stars, where you went together after midnight just to talk, and where he proposed. Somewhere near the edge, your initials were still crudely carved into the stone.

The night air was cool as you stood by the railing, looking out at the sprawling, glittering carpet of Los Angeles lights.

"Michael" you softly called out to the city, expecting silence In return.

Yet a soft rustle of footsteps sounded behind you. A familiar warmth settled over the space, accompanied by the faint, unmistakable scent of his custom perfume.

"Baby?" a gentle, breathless voice whispered.

You turned around. It was Michael. He looked fragile, thinner than you remembered, his eyes shadowed with an immense exhaustion. But the moment his gaze locked onto yours, a spark of the old Michael flared to life.

"Michael," you breathed, tears instantly stinging your eyes.

He lets a small smile,

"I always told you didn't I? just call my name, and I'll be there"

As he looked at you, his eyes suddenly glazed over, losing themselves in a memory that had haunted him for years.

༻✦༺

He was back in that echoing, empty house on the afternoon of the split. He remembered walking through the front doors, calling your name, only to be met by a cold, suffocating silence. He had run to the bedroom, his heart hammering against his ribs, only to find the closet doors wide open. Every hanger was bare. Your perfumes were gone from the vanity. Everything that made the house a home had been completely erased in a single day. He remembered collapsing onto the edge of the mattress, burying his head in his hands, and weeping until his chest ached. He had realized, with absolute, terrifying clarity, that his addiction and his pride had finally driven the only person who truly loved him away.

༻✦༺

With a sharp blink, Michael pulled himself back to the present, his eyes refocussing on you standing before him. You didn’t hug right away. You just stood there, the space between you heavy with years of unspoken words, letting the cold night wind blow past as the sheer shock of being in each other's presence washed over you.

"Hey," he whispered, a tiny, tentative smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," you replied, your voice barely louder than the breeze.

Michael looked down at your hands, then back up to your face, his eyes softening. "You’re shivering." He began unbuttoning his heavy corduroy jacket.

"Don't," you said softly, reaching out to stop him. "You’re already too thin, Michael. Keep it on."

He let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Still worrying about me. Even now." He still took it off and handed it to you, then he tilted his head toward the path leading down the hill. "Come on. Let's walk. Before my security team realises I sneaked out the window and starts deploying helicopters."

As you began to walk down the winding trail, the heavy tension that had separated you for years began to fracture, dissolving into the familiar rhythm of your past.

"I miss Marcus," you said, a small smile breaking through your nerves as you remember how close you were with Michaels entire team "Is he still as intense as he used to be?"

Michael burst into that high-pitched, giggly laugh you had missed so desperately. He put a stern expression on and narrowed his eyes in a ridiculously serious frown. "Michael you shouldn't be walking around alone at night, you shouldn't even be in public without a bulletproof vest" he mimicked.

You laughed, the sound bright and loud in the quiet night. "Yes! That is exactly him! He always did the most."

"He still does," Michael gasped, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "The other day, a squirrel jumped out of a bush, and I swear Marcus almost tackled it to the ground. I had to tell him, 'It's okay, Marcus, the squirrel doesn't want an autograph.'"

By the time you reached the faded, 24-hour diner at the base of the hills, the years of silence seemed to melt away. You slipped into a torn, red vinyl booth hidden in the far corner, the smell of cheap coffee and maple syrup wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Michael slid into the seat opposite you, pulling his fedora down slightly to shadow his face, but his eyes were brighter than they had been in years.

"Please tell me you've learned how to cook since I left," you teased, resting your chin on your hand.

Michael groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands, though you could see his cheeks flushing. "Oh, God. I swear, I made one bad pasta!"

"Michael the sauce you used was mouldy!" you laughed, leaning across the table. "It was our fifth anniversary, you told me you were going to cook something special and ten minutes later were both almost puking out expired pesto pasta."

"I was trying to be romantic!" he defended himself playfully, his voice rising to that sweet, defensive pitch you knew by heart. "I wanted to make something you loved. I thought 'use before' was a suggestion."

"Okay but even the pasta was crunchy! You didn't even fully cook it" you shot back, your chest aching from laughing so hard. "We ended up eating KFC on the floor of the projection room."

"But it was the best anniversary we ever had," Michael said softly.

His laughter died down, leaving behind a warm, tender silence. He reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing the edge of your coffee cup, his gaze locked onto yours.

"We laughed all night," he whispered, his voice thick with nostalgia. "We always laughed when it was just the two of us."

"We did," you agreed quietly, the laughter fading into a bittersweet ache. Sitting in the neon glow of the diner, the pain of the past, the tragic letters, and the shadow of his struggles drifted into the background. For those precious, fleeting hours, the clock had wound back, and you were just the two young people who had fallen in love in the hills.

"Have you been getting my letters?" he asks softly.

You nod, "Yeah, I have all of them, I read them everyday. I just.. I couldn't reply. I knew if we began talking, I wouldn't be able to stop"

"Oh.. yeah. I guess that's fair"

༻✦༺

Midnight passed, and eventually, he walked you back to the front entrance of your hotel. As the warmth of the old memories faded, the harsh light of reality settled back over you. The atmosphere shifted, turning deeply emotional and heartbreakingly heavy.

Michael reached out, grasping your hands, his eyes pleading. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Come back to me. My life... it’s so empty without you. It’s terrible. I’m so unhappy."

You looked at his pale face, the deep exhaustion etched into his features, and a cold weight dropped into your stomach. You looked him dead in the eyes and asked the question that had haunted your entire divorce. The question that you didn't even know If you wanted the answer to.

"Are you still using?"

His eyes dropped. The silence stretched between you, heavy and damning. He tried to swallow, his shoulders slumping as the truth laid itself bare. He hadn't stopped. He hadn't fixed it.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You gave him a devastatingly sad look, gently pulling your hands from his. "I love you...but I can't go back if nothing has changed. I can't watch you do this to yourself again. I can't sit there and watch you die"

Michael lowered his head, accepting the boundary with a heartbreaking nod. "I want to change," he whispered defensively, desperately. "I'm just so stressed right now. There's so much riding on this This Is It tour, the debts, the people counting on me... but after this is over, I swear to you, I'm getting my life back on track. I'm going to clean up. And I'm going to come get you."

"I get that Michael but you have to understand, I left because I love you. The easy thing would be to ignore all of it, and stay. But loving you means wanting the best for you, and what we were wasn't. I walked away because I love you too much to help you destroy yourself."

"Then I kinda wish you loved me a little less"

He didn't actually mean that, but the concept of an alternate universe in which you took the easy road and stayed with him, ignored all his troubles instead of begging him to get help, was a easier way to manage.

༻✦༺

You exchanged a few more emotional, breathless words, both of you crying, knowing the reality of the situation but unable to fully let go. Finally, you knew it was time to walk away.

"Goodbye, Michael," you whispered, turning toward the hotel doors.

"Wait" he stopped you.

You slowly turned around. He was standing a few feet away, looking so small against the backdrop of the city lights.

He took a minute, deep breathing as if he was struggling and scared to get the next words out.

"Do you still love me?" he asked, his voice quiet, trembling.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Staring at him for a few seconds before repsonding, 

"A part of me will always love you, Michael." You devastatingly admitted.

You turned again, taking two steps toward the glass doors, when his voice called out to you one last time.

"All of me will always love you,"

The words cut right through, echoing the promise he had kept through all the years of silence. Your heart broke completely. Forgetting the rules, forgetting the past, you turned and ran back to him. Throwing your arms around his neck, holding him with every ounce of strength you had left, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you back just as tightly, gasping for air.

Pulling back just enough to look at him, you gave him one last, lingering, deeply passionate kiss- a goodbye to the man you had loved more than life itself.

Without needing any further words, you turned and walked inside, not looking back.

༻✦༺

June 25, 2009 — 2:26 PM

The next afternoon, the world stopped.

You sat in your room, staring blankly at a television screen as the news anchors broke the bulletin.

Michael was gone.

The shock froze the breath in your lungs. Your mind rushed backward to less than twenty-four hours ago- the warmth of his hands, his promise to fix his life after the tour, his final, desperate declaration of love outside the hotel.

Before the weight of the grief could even paralyze you, adrenaline took over. You grabbed your keys, ran out of the hotel, and drove frantically through the congested streets of Los Angeles toward UCLA Medical Center. The sirens of emergency vehicles screamed in the distance, and the roads surrounding the hospital were already being blocked by police barricades and swarms of weeping fans.

You abandoned your car, running the remaining blocks on foot. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you pushed through the chaotic crowds, the flashing cameras of the paparazzi, and the heavy hospital security doors.

"I need to see him! Let me through!" you screamed, tears blinding your vision as security guards tried to hold you back. You screamed his name, desperate and feral, until a sobbing Katherine, your ex mother in law spotted you in the lobby. Recognising you instantly, she yelled at the staff to let you go, grabbing your arm and rushing you down the sterile, frantic hallways.

The double doors of the private room swung open, and the chaos of the hospital instantly fell away into a cold, suffocating silence.

The room was empty of doctors now. There were no machines buzzing, no frantic shouting. Just a quiet bed, and a white sheet pulled up to his shoulders.

You stumbled forward, your knees nearly giving out. You reached the side of the bed, your hands trembling violently as you reached out and gently pulled the sheet down.

༻✦༺

There he lay. He looked peaceful, the deep lines of stress and exhaustion finally gone from his face, looking younger than he had in years. Your chest heaved with a broken, choked sob.

Everything inside you completely broke.

You reached down to take his hand—and that was when you saw it.

On his left ring finger, catching the dim fluorescent light of the hospital room, was his silver wedding band.

He had never taken it off. Through the divorce, through the tours, through the drugs, and through the loneliness, he had kept the ring on his finger, hidden away from the cameras, keeping his promise to you.

You sank into the chair beside the bed, burying your face against his limp cold chest. You desperately clutched his hand, your tears falling onto his pale skin, pressing your lips against his knuckles right beside the silver band. You then pressed one last soft kiss against his weak cold lips, and for the first time, he didn't kiss you back.

your voice cracking into a million broken pieces as you held him one last time.

"im sorry I couldn't save you Michael."

༻✦༺

authors note: Written purely with love and respect, this fictional piece is not meant to insensitively sensationalise his struggles or addiction, but to serve as a heartfelt tribute to a beautiful, unforgettable soul. thankyou love you guys <3

@a-motherfcking-fish@animegamerfox@idkhonestlyy-blog1@sebbysbaby@liberiangirl7 @sylvette777