mikesexual

roi de la pop, la plus grande salope.

[nylauhh]

introduction ;;

HELLO !!! , im nylah🥹

imm not sure if someone would see this but if they DID this is a small introduction of myself

im genuinely a BIGGG moonwalker i LOVEEE that man. its really crazy how much i can love someone i never met

but , i love every fanfic I come across of this man and i love showing love soooo if youu ever need someone that's me

im 18+ ! , im a black fem soososoos there's that

don't be scared to interact or start a conversation.

anywhooo

hearts n 💋s💕💕

[kkgalerii]

i swear to yall, THIS MY NIGGAAAAAAAA 😍😍

[g0ttheh0ts4mj]

If I ever get a boyfriend I’m gonna feel like I’m emotionally cheating on him all the time because my heart will always belong to michael #sorrynotsorrybabe

THATS DADAAAAA BOOM SHAKALAKAAAAA

[kkgalerii]

‘you know i’m bad’ ᝰ🚬

✃ content: 18+, smut, quickie, bad!era, included audio

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 the thunderous roar of eighty thousand fans still vibrated through the stadium beams. outside the room, roadies rolled heavy trunks across the floor. inside, you sat on the leather sofa staring at the monitor feed. watching michael perform tonight had been pure torture. the monitor caught every sharp movement: his dark curls, his jawline glistening, the silver buckles on his black pants clinking as he popped his hips. every high-pitched belt and possessive grip on his mic stand sent a sudden surge of heat straight between your thighs. by the time "man in the mirror" faded, you were squirming, skin burning with a desperate ache.

the heavy oak door swung open. michael stepped in, surrounded by a faint cloud of stage mist. he had discarded his leather jacket, wearing only a damp black v-neck and his buckle-adorned pants. he looked utterly exhausted, sweat dripping from his chin, curls plastered to his neck. but the moment his deep brown eyes landed on you, his entire face illuminated.

"baby..." he breathed out, his raspy, post-show voice thick and gravelly. he tossed his hand towel aside and opened his arms, hurrying over to sink into you. "oh man, i missed you—"

before he could pull you in, you reached out. your hands hooked firmly into the silver buckles at his waistband, giving a sharp tug that yanked him straight down between your parted knees, chest flush against yours.

michael gasped softly, caught off guard, wide brown eyes searching yours.

"i need you," you whispered, your voice dropping low and sultry. "right here. right now, michael."

a dark, electric heat swept across his face. a low, raspy groan vibrated in his chest as he took in your flushed cheeks and hungry eyes. he didn't hesitate. turning to the vanity counter, michael swept his hand across the glass top, sending jars of stage makeup, wet wipes, and hairsprays clattering onto the floor in one swift motion.

in a flash, his large hands gripped your waist, effortlessly lifting you up and sitting you right onto the edge of the mirror counter.

"you're driving me crazy," michael rasped into your neck, his hot breath fanning against your pulse point as he stepped right in between your parted legs. his long fingers hooked into your underwear, pulling the fabric aside as he slid his hand down to brush against your core. he let out a sharp, breathy gasp as he felt just how completely drenched and warm you already were for him.

"look at you..." michael growled softly, his voice thick with raspy heat as he guided his thumb over your slick center. "you're so wet for me..."

"you were so sexy out there tonight, mike," you whimpered into his ear, hands tangling frantically into his damp curls, pulling his head down as you tilted your head back. "watching you move... watching those hips... you were so bad."

"yeah?" michael murmured, a wicked smirk touching his lips as he unbuckled the front of his pants. "show me how bad i was."

he didn't wait. positioning himself at your slick entrance, michael drove his hips forward in one long, heavy, unrelenting thrust that buried him completely inside you in a single stroke.

a loud, breathless scream tore from your throat as your hands dug frantically into his broad shoulders. the sensation was overwhelming, a sharp, explosive fullness that made your entire core pulse tightly around his length.

"fuck, baby..." michael choked out, head snapping back, jaw clenching tight. his hands clamped around your hips with a possessive grip, holding you pinned flat against the counter.

he set a fast, relentless, frantic pace. because the crew was right outside the door and time was running out, there was no slow buildup—just raw, desperate, urgent friction.

every time his hips slammed forward, the heavy silver buckles on his leather pants clinked loudly against each other—clink, clink, clink—a metallic rhythm that mingled wildly with his heavy, ragged gasps and your breathless moans. the intoxicating scent of his stage sweat, expensive cologne, and warm skin filled your senses, driving you completely wild.

"you like it when i perform for you, huh?" michael rasped, voice gravelly and completely undone as he drove into you, hitting that exact, swollen spot deep inside you with every single punishing stroke. "you like seeing your man up there?"

"yes! oh god, michael, yes!" you sobbed out, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling his body as deep into yours as physically possible. "don't stop... please, mike!"

"i'm not stopping," michael growled, his face burying into the side of your neck, his hot lips pressing feverish, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his thrusts turned faster, harder, and relentlessly precise. "you're taking all of it... every bit of it, mama."

the slick, heavy friction between your bodies built up a blinding heat. the sound of the roadies shouting outside in the hallway and the clinking of his belt buckles only heightened the forbidden, desperate rush of the moment.

"michael—i'm close! i'm gonna come!" you whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably under his powerful rhythm.

"come for me, then," michael rasped in your ear, voice tight, desperate, and right on the edge of breaking. "let it go, baby... give it to me!"

with a loud, stifled scream into his shoulder, your body gave in completely. your internal walls clamped down around him in tight, uncontrollable, pulsing spasms of pure ecstasy.

feeling your core clench violently around his length shattered michael's self-control. he let out a deep, guttural growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust hard and deep three more desperate times before burying himself as far inside you as he could go. his entire body locked up, a long, raspy gasp spilling from his lips as he poured everything into you, shuddering violently against your chest.

for two minutes, you both stayed locked together on the vanity, chests heaving, breathing frantic in the quiet room.

michael pulled back slowly, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your swollen lips, dark eyes glowing with satisfaction. "how was that for an encore?" he murmured with a boyish grin.

"unbelievable," you giggled breathlessly, smoothing down your clothes as he stepped back to adjust his pants and re-buckle his belt.

within five minutes, the makeup was quickly cleared from the floor, clothes were straightened, and your hair was brushed back into place. by the time a sharp knock came at the dressing room door—a roadie calling out, "five minutes to the motorcade, mr. jackson!"—you were both standing side by side, looking composed, elegant, and completely innocent.

michael turned to you, slipping on his dark sunglasses, offering you a quiet, handsome wink before sliding his warm hand into yours to walk out into the night.

[mikaylajacksonnn]

ouuuh him with lashes.. someone hold me the FUCK down

i just wanna stare at his big bambi eyes foreverrr

[nylauhh]

finally proofread my stories .. im a tad bit irritated 😭 WHY AM I REPEATING FULL SENTENCES

[alohaluz]

'cause i'm pretty when i cry

[nylauhh]

he's just so perfect it doesn't matter what he do

[alohaluz]

'cause i'm pretty when i cry

[kkgalerii]

ꨄ︎ never truly gone

𑣲𝄞 description: seven years after he walked out, michael traps you in a luxury coat room—determined to prove you’re still his, no matter who's outside.

content: 18+, smut, complicated exes, toxic, infidelity, michael loves being a side nga, lots of angst, exes to… we don’t have a clue, taken!reader. (WHOLE HOUSE MESSY)

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

ᝰ.ᐟ the heavy bass from the exclusive grammy after-party at the chateau marmont was a low, suffocating thrum that vibrated straight through the floorboards of the private VIP lounge. the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars, spilled cristal champagne, and heavy designer perfumes.

the room was packed with industry executives, hollywood elite, and pop royalty, all laughing too loudly, trying to secure their next deal under the dim, low-hanging crystal chandeliers.

it had been seven long, agonizing years.

seven years since the quiet, timid boy with the soft afro, gentle eyes, and sequined bowties had walked out of your life during the fading days of his off the wall era. back then, the breakup hadn't just been a clean break—it had been an absolute storm.

an avalanche of exploding solo fame, endless late nights tucked away in westlake studios, sharp accusations hurled in angry tear-filled arguments, and a bitter, lingering silence that had left your heart completely shredded. time had smoothed over the sharpest edges of the resentment, but the phantom ache of him—the way he laughed, the way he held your waist, the way he loved you—had never truly left your chest.

and then, across the crowded, smoke-filled ballroom, your eyes met his.

the world seemed to drop out from under your feet in an instant.

michael was standing near the grand piano, surrounded by a tight cluster of handlers, managers, and security guards, looking entirely transformed. he was clad in a tailored, double-breasted black silk suit that fit his lean frame to absolute perfection.

a crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned slightly at the collar, revealing the warm bronze skin of his chest, and his signature dark, glossy curls tumbled effortlessly around his sharp, striking jawline. he wasn't that shy boy from 1979 anymore—he was the undisputed king of pop, radiating an untouchable, magnetic power that held the entire room hostage.

for several endless seconds, neither of you moved. the ambient noise of the party faded into complete static.

his dark, piercing eyes locked onto yours, and you saw the exact moment recognition hit him. a flash of pure shock crossed his face, softening into a raw, heavy longing that made your stomach turn completely upside down.

you froze, your hand trembling so hard around your champagne flute that the liquid sloshed against the glass. michael subtly shifted his weight, taking a slow, deliberate step in your direction. his eyes never left yours for a single second, explicitly acknowledging your existence after nearly a decade of brutal radio silence.

and then, tyrell walked up.

tyrell—your boyfriend of six months, a stable, kind, handsome executive—slid a heavy, possessive arm casually around your waist from behind. he leaned down, whispering something funny into your ear, before pressing a slow, comfortable kiss to your cheek and handing you a fresh drink.

across the floor, michael froze dead in his tracks.

you watched his face change in real-time, and it was terrifying. the subtle, hopeful softening in his eyes shattered into a million pieces, instantly replaced by a flash of dark, volatile fury. his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek.

watching another man's hand rest casually on the exact curve of your hip—the waist he used to hold in the dark, the skin he used to claim as his—sent a wave of possessive, jealous heat surging straight through his veins.

tyrell turned on his heel to head toward the crowded bar, leaving you standing alone for just a second. but michael didn't just wait in the shadows. he cut straight through the lingering crowd, walking past you so close that the fine black silk of his suit jacket brushed flush against your exposed shoulder.

he paused for a fraction of a second—just long enough for the familiar, intoxicating scent of his cologne to hit your senses, his long fingers ghosting deliberately over the small of your back to send a fierce shiver straight down your spine.

“excuse me, beauty,” he whispered raspy under his breath, loud enough only for you to hear, before melting into the dim shadows toward the quiet back hallway. your knees nearly buckled right then and there on the ballroom floor.

before you could even catch your breath, a slender, firm hand clamped like a vise around your wrist.

you were yanked sharply around a dark corridor, dragged down a quiet, carpeted hallway, and shoved straight into a dim, plush coat room. the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you, the brass latch clicking into place with a sickeningly final sound, sealing the two of you inside a stifling, suffocating silence.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” you shouted, spinning around, your chest heaving wildly as adrenaline flooded your system.

there he stood. michael’s back was pressed against the closed door, his long hands jammed deep into his silk suit trousers. his dark eyes were burning, wide and wild, tracking every frantic breath you took.

“what is wrong with me?” michael sneered, his voice raspy, sharp, and dripping with an edge you had never heard from him before. “what the hell is wrong with you? you walk into an after-party looking like that, knowing damn well i’m in the same city, letting some random guy put his hands all over you?!”

“some random guy?!” you snapped back, taking an aggressive step toward him, pointing a shaking, angry finger right at his chest. “that is tyrell! he is my boyfriend, michael! my boyfriend!”

“i don’t give a damn what his name is!” michael yelled back, his voice cracking with sheer, unbridled emotion as he stepped out from the door, closing the distance between you until he was towering over you. “he has his hands on my girl! he was kissing on your cheek right in front of my face! you think i was just gonna stand there and watch that?!”

“you got everything you ever wanted!” you cried out, your hands coming up to push against his hard chest, though he didn't budge an inch. “you got the world screaming your name! you got the awards, the suit, the empire, everyone bowing down to you! so why do you care about some small piece of your past that you threw away?!”

“because none of it means a damn thing if i have to stand in a crowded room and watch another man touch you!” michael yelled back, his raspy voice booming off the small walls, dropping all of his usual quiet polish.

his hands flew out, gripping your wrists with desperate strength before pinning them against the door beside your head. his breathing was heavy, wild, and completely unraveled. “i’d give every single bit of it back right now if it meant you looked at me the way you used to. don't you dare talk about my life like it was worth losing you.”

your breath caught hard in your throat. “oh, please, michael! i can’t with you right now…” you screamed softly, tears of pure frustration and old heartbreak pricking the corners of your eyes. “you left! you walked out of my apartment, you changed your number, you became this colossal superstar, and you abandoned me! you don't get to come back nearly a decade later and dictate who i love or who touches me!”

“i didn't abandon you!” michael barked, his hands coming out, hovering in the air as his chest heaved heavily under his suit jacket. “it was crazy back then and you know it! everything was spinning out of control! but i thought about you every single day, mama! every damn song i wrote, every time i went to sleep in some cold, empty hotel room on the road, i was thinking about you! i was looking for you in every crowd!”

“you don’t get to look at me like i’m the one who broke something here!” you snapped, your voice trembling as years of silent grief rushed straight to your throat. “you built a whole world where nobody can touch you, michael. you became untouchable. and now you’re mad because i actually learned how to survive without you?!”

michael flinched as if you’d struck him across the face, his jaw clenching tight as his dark eyes shimmered with a sudden, devastating mix of rage and hurt.

“i didn’t want you to survive without me, mama,” he rasped out, stepping so close his chest pressed hard against yours. “i wanted you to wait. i wanted you to be right where i left you, because every single night i was out there, i was coming back to you in my head.”

“then why didn't you call?!” you demanded, your voice breaking completely. “why didn't you come back for me if you cared so much?!”

“because i was scared!” michael confessed, his loud, booming voice suddenly dropping into a raw, desperate whisper. he stepped right into your personal space, the scent of his expensive, intoxicating cologne mixed with the sudden, fiery heat of his skin completely overwhelming your senses.

“i was terrified that you hated me. i was scared that if i looked at you again, i’d fall right back into pieces. and then i see you tonight... looking so breathtaking, so matured... and some man has his arm around your waist?” he shook his head, his dark eyes brimming with heartbreak and pure jealousy. “it drove me insane. it’s driving me crazy right now just looking at you.”

“michael, please,” you whimpered, stepping back until the spine of your dress hit the cold, heavy wood of the door. “don’t do this. i’m with tyrell now. he treats me well. it’s too late for us.”

you turned your head, reaching behind your back for the brass door handle, desperate to escape the suffocating pull of his presence.

michael didn't let you touch it. in a blur of movement, he lunged forward. his long, slender fingers grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from the lock, and he slammed both of his hands flat against the door on either side of your head. his body pinned you flush against the wood, trapping you completely within his frame.

“you’re lying,” michael whispered raspy, hovering so close his lips brushed against your jawline with every word. “you looked at me across that room, baby. don't you dare try to pretend you didn't feel that. seven years doesn't erase what we are.”

“michael, stop—you’re a stranger to me now,” you whispered, tears finally slipping down your cheeks. “the boy i loved wouldn't have backed me into a corner like this. he wouldn't make me hurt like this.”

that broke him. the fierce anger in his eyes instantly melted into something terrifyingly raw and desperate. michael leaned his forehead flush against yours, his chest heaving as his thumb gently, almost painfully swept away the tear on your cheek.

“i’m still him, baby,” he whimpered softly against your lips, his voice shaking with pure heartbreak. “i’m still your boy. i just missed you so much it’s killing me... please, mama, just look at me... tell me you don't feel me right now. tell me you don't miss me.”

you were drowning. the sudden softness in his tone stripped away every single layer of armor you had spent years building against him. all the anger, the bitter arguments, and the noise from the party outside completely dissolved, leaving only the crushing weight of how desperately you had missed this exact voice, this exact touch.

your hands, which had been pressed against his chest to push him away, slowly softened.

your fingers curled tightly into the fine black silk of his suit jacket, clinging to him as a shuddering, tearful sigh escaped your lips. you leaned your weight into his frame, feeling the heavy, wild thudding of his heart beneath your palm—beating just as fast and frantic as yours.

“i hate you for this,” you whimpered weakly, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed agonizingly against yours.

“i know, baby,” michael whispered, a dark, breathless satisfaction lacing his voice. “look at me, mama. you think a tailored suit and millions of sold records mean i forgot who i am to you? you think because you put a title on that man outside, he knows how to touch you? he knows what makes you tick?”

your breath hitched. he nudged his hips firmly against yours, making your eyes flutter shut as a sharp, traitorous burst of heat flared up between your thighs.

“i know how to make you happy,” he whispered, his lips tracing a burning path down the sensitive skin of your neck. “and i know exactly how to make you cum, mama. better than tyrell ever could. better than anyone.”

a helpless, quiet gasp escaped your throat. “god... you’re awful...”

“i know, baby,” michael whispered, a dark smirk touching his lips before he sank down to his knees right in front of you.

your eyes flew open in complete shock. “michael, what are you—!”

without answering, michael grabbed the hem of your gown, sliding his hands up the bare skin of your thighs and bunching the expensive fabric up around your waist. he pushed your legs apart, positioning himself right between your knees as you stood pinned against the cold wood of the door. he pulled your lace underwear aside with his long fingers, exposing your slick, hot core to the cool air of the room.

looking down at michael jackson—the biggest star on the planet—kneeling at your feet in a tailored suit, looking up at you through his dark, glossy curls with pure, unfiltered desperation, made your breath hitch painfully in your throat.

he knew every single weakness of yours. he remembered the exact rhythm that had made you lose your mind years ago, and as his hot hands gripped the soft skin of your inner thighs, you realized with absolute terror that you were completely at his mercy.

“i used to dream about tasting you again,” michael whimpered against your wet skin, his breath fanning hot and heavy over your core. “every single night on tour, mama... thinking about how sweet you taste for me...”

before you could protest again, a loud, shattered gasp tore from your throat, your head thumping back hard against the wooden door.

michael didn't hold back. he went to work on you with an intoxicating, ruthless intensity.

his hands gripped the soft meat of your thighs, holding you wide open and steady against him while his tongue lapped at you in deep, heavy, rhythmic strokes. he swirled over your sweet spot, collecting your slick warmth, humming softly against your skin as he ate you out with a messy, desperate hunger that made your knees tremble violently.

“m-michael—oh god—” you whimpered, your fingers sinking tightly into his dark, curly hair, trying to anchor yourself as intense waves of pleasure crashed through your lower belly.

he sucked on you firmly, flattening his tongue and working you faster, driving you straight up a steep, agonizing cliff. you were whimpering, your hips bucking helplessly against his mouth as your entire body went straight, hovering right on the ragged edge of a violent orgasm.

“that’s it, mama... give it to me,” michael panted against your wet skin, his breath hot and ragged.

just as your core tightened and you were about to scream out his name in peak climax, michael abruptly pulled his mouth away.

“no!” you sobbed out, your eyes flying open, completely unraveled and breathless. “michael, please—!”

michael stood up in one fluid, graceful motion, his dark eyes wide, glazed with pure lust, and intensely dangerous.

he didn't give you a single second to recover. he hastily unbuckled his belt, unzipping his trousers and freeing his thick, throbbing length, already slick at the tip. he gripped your hips, lifting one of your legs up over his hip, aligning himself directly at your entrance.

“you’re mine,” michael growled raspy, his forehead pressing hard against yours. “say it, mama. say you’re mine.”

“i’m—michael, please!” you begged, weeping from the sheer sensory overload.

with a low, guttural groan, michael plunged himself fully inside you in one deep, ruthless, agonizingly perfect stroke.

every deep, deliberate roll of his hips drove him all the way to your core, making your head thump back helplessly against the heavy wood. michael buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath scalding hot against your skin as he panted out every confession he’d been too terrified to ever write down.

“i thought about you every single night, mama…” he rasped out, his voice broken and heavy with need as his hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt. “every girl they tried to throw at me on tour… every time i closed my eyes, baby, it was always your face. it was always you. no one ever felt like you…”

“michael—a-ah!” you whimpered, your fingers clutching his suit jacket.

“i was so scared, baby,” he whimpered right against your skin, his thrusts growing deeper, harder, and desperate. “i was so scared you moved on and forgot about me… but you’re still so wet for me, mama… you still take me so good…”

a shattered scream tore from your throat, instantly muffled as michael clamped his hand firmly over your mouth. the sheer size and blistering heat of him filled you to the absolute brim, stretching you out so intensely that your toes curled and tears of straight ecstasy leaked from your eyes.

he established a fast, relentless pace. every deep, heavy thrust rattled the heavy wood behind your back, his hips snapping forward with a desperate, angry power.

outside in the hallway, tyrell had been looking for you for the last ten minutes. he had already noticed the way your face had gone completely pale when michael stared at you from across the ballroom. when he had returned from the bar with your champagne flutes only to find you gone, an uneasy, sharp knot of suspicion had settled deep in his gut.

tracing your steps down the quiet VIP corridor, he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the faint, lingering scent of your expensive perfume near the locked coat room door.

suddenly, three sharp, heavy knocks echoed on the exact piece of wood your back was pressed against.

“babe? are you in there?”

it was tyrell’s voice from the other side of the door.

panic slammed into your chest like a bucket of ice water. your eyes flew wide open in absolute horror, and you clamped your inner muscles tight around michael, trying desperately to freeze and force him to stop.

michael didn't slow down for a single second. hearing the man you belonged to standing on the other side of the door only made his possessive drive turn completely wild. he gripped your waist tighter, driving himself into your sweet spot with ruthless, agonizing power that tore high, needy moans straight from your throat against his palm.

“hear him out there?” michael whispered dark and wicked into your ear, his voice trembling with a mix of triumph and bitter heartbreak as his hips rolled into yours. “he thinks he owns you, baby… but he doesn’t know you like i do. he doesn’t know that you’re still mine. tell me you’re mine, mama. say it so he hears you…”

“m-michael… please!” you sobbed out, helpless under him.

“i’m never letting you go again,” he growled softly, slamming into you deep enough to make your knees buckle. “i don’t care who stands outside that door.”

outside, the brass door handle jiggled violently. “hey! open up! who the hell is in there with her?!”

michael pulled his hand away from your mouth, raising his voice—loud, clear, and dripping with smug authority.

“she’s busy!” michael shouted out to the hallway, his raspy voice carrying effortlessly over your wet whimpers.

“what the hell?!” tyrell shouted from the hallway, sounding stunned, outraged, and furiously pounding his fists hard against the wood. “open this damn door right now!”

but you couldn't process tyrell or the hallway anymore. michael was driving you straight over the edge. he locked his dark eyes onto yours, his expression softening into pure, needy adoration even as his body worked you with ruthless speed.

“look at me, baby,” michael panted softly, his hands cradling your face, kissing away the hot tears on your cheek. “you’re coming for me, mama... give it to me right now...”

the sheer taboo, the relentless pace, and the overwhelming feeling of michael inside you completely shattered your remaining control. your core clamped violently around him, convulsing in an intense, toe-curling orgasm that made your throat raw from crying out his name.

feeling your tight walls pulse around him, michael lost his mind. with a few final, frantic thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt and held you tight against the door, letting out a loud, shattered groan as he spilled hot and heavy deep inside you, his entire frame trembling against yours.

for a long, quiet minute, the only sound in the room was the heavy, ragged breathing of the two of you, chest to chest, completely spent.

michael slowly pulled out of you, gently easing your leg down to the floor. he helped you adjust your dress, his hands sweet, tender, and careful, before he straightened out his own clothes, fastening his belt and buttoning his double-breasted suit jacket back up.

he stepped in front of you, wrapping his long arms tightly around your waist, pulling your head flush against his chest. he rested his chin on top of your head, kissing your hair gently over and over.

“i love you so much, baby,” michael whispered, his voice trembling with genuine, deep emotion. “i’ve never stopped loving you. come home with me tonight. please, mama... let’s fix this. let's start over.”

you stood there in his arms, the heavy reality of what had just happened crashing down on you like an icy avalanche. tyrell was still shouting outside, footsteps of hotel security now rushing down the hallway. you had just cheated on your boyfriend. you had just let your ex completely destroy your life in fifteen minutes against a coat room door.

a sudden, violent surge of anger, betrayal, and deep humiliation boiled over inside your chest.

you yanked yourself violently out of his grip.

crack!

the loud sound of your palm slapping hard across michael’s cheek echoed like a gunshot through the private room.

michael’s head snapped to the side. he froze, his hand slowly coming up to touch his burning, red cheek, his dark eyes wide with utter shock and wounded confusion.

“what the hell was that?!” you sobbed out, fresh tears streaming down your face as you smoothed down your rumpled dress with shaking hands. “what is wrong with you, michael?!”

“baby—” michael started, his voice rising, sharp and defensive.

“don’t ‘baby’ me!” you yelled, choking back a sob. “i don’t even recognize you anymore! look at what you just did! you dragged me in here, you manipulated me, you embarrassed me, and you forced that onto me while tyrell was standing right outside the door!”

“you could’ve walked away!” michael argued back, his voice booming in the small room, a flash of stubborn anger settling into his jaw. “you kissed me back, mama! you begged me to put it in! you wanted this just as bad as i did, so don't you dare stand there and put all of this on me!”

“because you played on every old feeling i had!” you screamed back. “you knew exactly what you were doing!”

“i did it because i love you!” michael shouted, stepping toward you, his dark eyes pleading and desperate. “i did it because i was losing you again, and i couldn't stand watching him touch what’s mine!”

“i am not your property, michael!” you snapped, wiping your tears away furiously with the back of your hand. “you lost the right to call me yours seven years ago! and after tonight? i don't ever want to see your face again!”

michael’s breath hitched. the angry, aggressive posture instantly melted away, leaving him looking small, deeply hurt, and utterly devastated in his tailored suit. “mama, please... don't say that... please...”

you didn't give him another second. without looking back at him, you unlocked the heavy oak door, pulled it open, and stepped out into the chaotic, security-filled hallway.

the bright hallway lights blinded you for a split second. tyrell was standing right there, flanked by two chateau marmont security guards, his eyes wide in absolute shock as he took in your smudged lipstick, flushed cheeks, and rumpled dress.

he looked right past you into the dim room, where michael stood frozen in the center of the coat room—slowly wiping a smear of lipstick off his cheek with the back of his hand, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his chest heaving as he stared at you with a heartbroken, completely ruined expression.

[ttinkabella]

𑣲⋆ find me a girl! 𑣲⋆

description: after your dad gets a new job offer, you have to move to encino. you’re heartbroken, until you learn that your neighbors are the jackson’s!

warnings: fluff, cussing

pairing: teen!michael x black!teen!fem!reader

CHAPTER 1

moving into a brand new neighborhood as a 14 year old girl wasn’t easy at all. you hated the thought of new beginnings, packing, even saying goodbye! so when your parents told you that you were moving to encino, you were distraught.

sure, the new house was nice, and your room was bigger, and you guys even had a pool, but nothing would beat the feeling of home. it was about three in the afternoon, and the u-haul trucks and moving people jest left your brand new house about an hour ago. you were in you room, splayed out on your bed.

“y/n, honey?” your mother calls from the long hallway, making her way towards your bedroom door. she walks inside, and slowly trails to your bed, then she sits down on the edge.

“how do y’like it, baby?” she says, rubbing your knee.

“i dunno.” you respond with a shrug, picking with your hair. you look at her, sighing a little.

“i know you ain’t want this, but we couldn’t pass up this offer, babe. your daddy is getting payed three times what he made back in georgia, this gonna change our lives for the better.” she softly says, rubbing her fingers through your silk press.

you roll your eyes before rolling onto your side.

“cmon.. don’t be like that.. how bout this, come with me to give these cookies to our neighbors. they seem real sweet, and they even got some sonsss..” she says, teasing you.

you can’t help but to giggle, and you nod your head before getting up, fixing your red halter. your mom leads you downstairs, grabbing the plate of cookies, and heading next door..

“ma, how do you even know about these people already, we just moved in an hour ago.” you say, stepping behind her as she rings the doorbell.

“girl, who would i be if i didn’t look into it before moving in? we can’t live next to no serial kill-“ your mother starts, but a door creak interrupts her. a woman walks out, looking not much older than your mom..

“hi! we just moved in next door, and we wanted to bring you some cookies.. my name’s rose, and this is my daughter, y/n..” you mother gushes, smiling.. you wave a little.

“oh! come in, come in, my name’s katherine!” the woman says, and you two both walk inside. you look around, and see the pictures of their children on the walls, and they look mighty familiar.

mrs katherine and your mother talk for a moment, then she calls her kids down. you watch the stairs, and you could’ve believe your eyes. one by one, all six of of the jackson brothers came down, then the sisters after them.

“i want you to meet our new neighbors, mrs rose, and little miss y/n.” mrs katherine says with a wide smile. your mother urges you to speak, and you wave a little, still in shock that your mom moved you into a house right next to the jackson’s!

your eyes scan all of them, and then they stop at a particular figure. michael jackson, your favorite out of all of them. you never knew if it was his voice, or his appearance, but you took more interest in him than the rest of them.

“y/n, baby speak. tell them your name, how old you are, stop being shy.” your mother softly urges with a small smirk on her face. you huff, looking at her through your peripheral vision.

you wave at them again. “hi.. my name’s y/n, i’m fourteen.” you say, and the first one to answer is latoya..

“hi y/n, i love your top! where’d you get it?” she says, stepping infront of the rest of her siblings to look closer at it.

you look down at your shirt and look back up at her with a small smile. “thank you, it’s from some boutique in georgia.” you say, playing with your hair.

“georgia, hm? so that’s where you comin from?” a deep voice speaks, and it’s none other than jermaine jackson. you nod, looking at him.

“so what made you move to encino? i mean y’don’t seem like you real happy to be here.” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“i ain’t have no choice. we moved because my daddy had a job offer.” you say, shifting on one foot to the other. they go silent for a second, then another deep voice breaks the silence.

“sooo y/n… you got a boyfriend?” marlon says, tilting his head. you roll your eyes, and before you could answer, rebbie answered for you.

“quit interrogatin the girl like she a criminal, yall gonna scare her off.” she says, smacking marlon upside his head. you giggle a little, and latoya’s face lightens up.

“ohmygosh, y/n, you have to be my friend, there’s no other girls my age around here!” she exclaimed, gently grabbing your wrist to take you upstairs.

while walking past, you bump into michael. you turned to him, softly apologizing, but to your surprise, the same soft apology was coming out of his mouth simultaneously. you give him a small smile before being dragged upstairs, and he stares at you, basically drooling at the mouth.

marlon watches michael the whole time, and he smirks. “look like mike got a crush on our neighbor..” he teases, and jermaine’s head whips to the side..

“right on brother, i see where he coming from..” jermaine chuckles out, patting michael’s shoulders.

“cmon guys, all i did was look at her. marlon you the one that was brave enough to ask if she was single!” michael says, rolling his eyes.

marlon laughs, clapping his hands together, “well somebody had to! how long has it been since we seen a girl like that?” he whisper-yells, making michael’s nose scrunch up.

“don’t talk about her like that, cmon marlon, give her some respect..” he softly says, heading upstairs.

“i am, man. she just look good, that’s all..” marlon says, snickering..

maybe encino wasn’t gonna be so bad!

tinka’s note: yooo, i’m making this a series, this is part oneee!!! i hope yall like it :)

[nylauhh]

hi so can u do a fic where its marlon and michael fighting over you and you end up dating marlon but michael still makes slight chances and u end up with michael, ik u can make that work 😘

im so fucking sorry

syn; ever since you guys were little it would always seem like they both were basically at duel just for your love , but marlon ended up showing it to you more physically and you ended up with him but little did you know michael had something up his sleeve

inclu; marlon jackson , michael jackson , sub!reader , dom!mike a little bit of smut , angst , you keeping it in the family if you squint, trying not to use yn nicknames implied (tink, ma, mamas, baby) implied black reader but idrc what race you are (majority of this happens in part two and NOT proofread)

after awhile as you guys grew up , you'd seem immune to them though as you were oblivious to them having feelings for you

it was a one particular saturday where you guys was at hayvenhurst pool, its very big lol.

you had just walked outside , fixing your bikini top that had fit your breast just right ,

almost .. it had a little spilling out and you had your some small jean shorts on unbuttoned covering your bikini bottom

you saw marlon sitting at the edge of the pool, reading a paper with the jackson 5 splattered al over it. you let out a small chuckle " missing the old days huh ?"

you said grabbing a floatie throwing it beside marlon

receiving a small chuckle from him

" well , you know yea it's like so much happened at such a young age though its still growing I miss when we was younger" he hummed

you guys engaged in conversation as yall heard a door creak open as michael stepping out in his mickey mouse swimming trunks

" I know you guys missed me " he said softly placing his hands on his hips

" oh hush gibets " marlon pathetically splashed water overly missing him

the summer heat settled over hayvenhurst like a blanket, the water in the pool sparkling under the california sun.

it was one of those days where everybody seemed to forget about rehearsals, cameras and interviews. today they were just family.

"hi mikey," you giggled, smiling as michael stood there with his hands resting dramatically on his hips.

he placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended. "see? somebody around here still appreciates me."

"she only said hi," marlon mumbled with a small grin, folding up the newspaper that had old jackson 5 headlines plastered all over the front.

"still counts."

tink couldn't help but laugh. she untied the little jean shorts she'd thrown over her bikini, laying them on one of the lounge chairs before easing herself into the cool water.

"lord..." she sighed happily. "its so hot."

marlon watched her for a second before quickly looking away, pretending to read the newspaper again. he hadn't read a single sentence since she'd walked outside.

michael noticed that.

he always noticed.

"well..." michael clapped his hands together. "guess yall started the fun without me."

before either of them could answer, he backed up and jumped into the pool with the biggest cannonball he could manage.

"michael!"

water splashed everywhere, soaking marlon from head to toe.

"man!" marlon wiped his face, laughing despite himself. "what is wrong with you?"

michael popped back up, curls dripping into his eyes as he laughed so hard he almost swallowed water.

"you should've seen your face."

"im finna throw you."

"im already in."

you doubled over laughing, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to steady herself.

for just a moment, both brothers forgot they were constantly competing with one another.

seeing you laugh had always done that.

the afternoon drifted by peacefully. jackie and tito fired up the grill while janet chased randy around the backyard with a water gun. music floated through the open windows of hayvenhurst while the smell of barbecue slowly filled the air.

you climbed out of the pool, wrapping a fluffy towel around herself before sitting on one of the lounge chairs to dry off.

a few seconds later, michael quietly sat beside you.

"you cold?" he asked.

"a little."

without saying much else, he reached behind him and grabbed another towel before laying it gently across your shoulders.

"thanks, mikey."

he smiled to himself.

"you always takin care of everybody," you said quietly.

he looked down at his hands.

"i try."

the two sat there in comfortable silence, listening to everybody laugh in the backyard.

after awhile michael finally spoke again.

"you ever wonder what life would've been like... if we never got famous?"

you shrugged, kicking your feet gently.

"probably still sittin right here honestly."

he chuckled.

"yeah... maybe."

his smile slowly faded.

"or maybe i'd finally tell somebody how i really feel."

you tilted her head.

"what you mean?"

before michael could answer, marlon's voice echoed across the yard.

"mike! c'mon over here for a minute."

michael shut his eyes for a second before standing.

"...comin."

he walked away without another word, leaving you watching him with a confused expression.

something about him felt... different today.

later that evening the house had settled down. everyone wandered between the kitchen and living room while old records played softly in the background.

you wandered upstairs looking for janet.

instead she froze when she heard voices coming from one of the bedrooms.

"...you always do this."

it was marlon.

"do what?" michael answered calmly.

"don't play dumb."

silence filled the room.

"soon as im spendin time with her, here you come."

"i wasn't doin nothin."

"quit lyin, mike."

another pause.

"you been doin this since we was kids."

you frowned.

what were they talking about?

then michael finally answered.

"...because i love her."

your breath caught in your throat.

inside the room marlon let out a dry laugh.

"finally said it."

"i never stopped."

"well you're too late."

"...are you sure?"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"well im gonna ask her out tomorrow..."

the hallway suddenly felt suffocating.

you slowly stepped backwards, trying not to make a sound.

thump.

your elbow bumped into a small table sitting against the wall.

both brothers instantly stopped talking.

"did you hear that?" marlon asked.

the bedroom door swung open.

panic shot through your body.

you quickly hurried down the hallway before either of them could see you, your heart beating so loudly you thought they could probably hear it.

you wasn't supposed to hear any of that.

that night she couldn't sleep.

you stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours while michael's words replayed inside her head.

i love her.

michael?

your sweet, quiet mikey?

all this time?

how had she never noticed?

the next morning breakfast was unusually quiet.

marlon stayed close to you the entire time, brushing shoulders with you whenever he got the chance. warming up to ask you out

michael barely looked up from his plate.

every smile seemed forced.

every laugh sounded fake. from the other end of the table, katherine looked between the three of them with narrowed eyes "...somethin happened."

nobody answered she let out a sigh as she continued on , stupid teenager stuff she thought as the day went on you felt nervous and anxious already know what was to come , you didnt know what to do or what to say

you was in janet room , as you two was gossiping about whatever as randy came and knocked on the door " hey , can you come here for a second " he said in his regular jokester tone

" randy i swear to god if its one of these dumb pranks again.." she huffed as she rolled her eyes getting up , he lead her to the first living room forcing her to close her eyes

as you finally opened them seeing all the brothers except michael and you see marlon holding flowers while tito held his guitar playing a sick love song and jackie and jermaine holding the big bouquet of your favorite flowers

" tink .. " marlon started off

a/n ; ill finish it very soon ! hope you enjoyed lovelys💕

[neytheking]

say somethin’

a one shot. inspired by this.

context: you and michael have been together for 2 years. he frequently has bouts of possessiveness and moodiness, so you thought this would just blow over.

nutritional info: michael is whiny as hell, he holds a grudge towards you, angst!!!, SMUT!!!!, masturbation (mostly Michael), peeking (mostly you), facefucking, silent treatment, cum play, needydom michael, makeup sex (ish), possessive/jealous/controlling michael, emotional edging through denial, begging, light name calling (slut, bitch), crying, light aftercare, FILTH.

writers note: trying to get better at writing emotions so theres more angst in this. not proofread yet. around 3.4k words, slow burn tension with little smut in the middle then lots of smut at the end. enjoy divas.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

this war began at a party. or rather a mingling event that michael had to attend. this particular one wasn’t so bad, there weren’t any ultra rich people (except for michael) and instead there were some good spirited creatives.

you were sat at the bar, wrapped in a pink bandage dress, chatting with a man you didn’t know. as you two laughed together about things that didn’t matter, he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. it was awkward and out of place, but you didn’t want to cause a scene.

Michael is already painfully overstimulated. its dim, theres tons of drunk people around, the music sounds like its being played from cheap speakers, and you aren’t by his side. as he spots you from across the room, he also spots this unknown man. you’re basically leaning over the counter, using it to support yourself.

did you let him get you….drunk? you never get drunk with anyone, only ever with michael when you two want to fuck like animals. never in public. he just didn’t like the way you were portraying yourself. you looked comfortable. way too comfortable.

his gaze narrows slightly. the man says something and you laugh. you really laugh, not a polite chuckle, a laugh. your head falls back slightly, even Michael feels allured by the skin on your neck being exposed, and the man smiles triumphantly as he steps closer.

too close.

Michael pauses. his entire demeanor switches. he tries to tell himself to calm down, that its nothing.

the man touches your arm. you don’t pull away. you don’t look around for Michael to come get this creep away from you, because if you had, you would’ve saw him directly behind you already enraged enough to kill this mystery guy.

before Michael can even process anything, the man plants a kiss on your cheek. fully confident, like you belonged to him. how dare he? and how dare you?

you laughed. not startled or offended, but almost flattered. is that what this was?

Michael’s eyes filled with tears around the bottom rim. his mind immediately flashed to when you told him you loved him. when you kissed his cheek, kissed the tip of his nose, held him in your arms as you slept skin to skin, told him he was the only man ever, that you only wanted him.

lying slut. he thought to himself.

you were just like everyone else. says one thing and does another. you don’t actually love him. this isn’t love. this is classic betrayal.

Michael moves swiftly through the establishment. you don’t notice Michael until he’s standing behind you, locking eyes with the man.

“oh hey-“

you began, but quit when you realized that Michael was not worried about you. he was focused entirely on the man.

“step back.”

Michael’s voice is still smooth and soft, still the same voice you loved to wake up to. but his tone was imposing, heavy. he commanded this man to step back as if he was a literal peasant.

the man is caught offguard.

“relax man, we were just ha-“

“i said step back.”

there was a pause. Michael’s eyes stayed laser focused on the mans pupils. you place your hand on Michael’s chest, trying to calm him down a little, as the man raises his hands and says “alright, no problem.”

he disappears just as Michael intended.

“what the hell Mikey? what was that?”

“lets go.”

“Michael-“

“now.”

he grips your wrist and leads you out of the venue, managing to not look at you the entire time. his tone leaves no room for argument, and is empty of emotion. the lack of emotion made it worse. he had never been robotic like this.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

the entire car ride is silent. not the usual calm silence that you and Michael frequently shared. silence with tension. stretched past its limit, ready to snap and injure someone nearby.

the highway lights illuminate his face, his cheekbones and his jawline. you leaned over to kiss it, like you always did. Michael leaned away, making sure your lips couldn’t reach his face. for a second it didn’t register. Michael not wanting you to kiss him had never happened before. you always kissed him. there wasn’t an inch of skin on his body that you hadn’t kissed, licked, smiled against. you loved touching his body. you were addicted to feeling him, even innocently.

his grip on the steering wheel was excessive. his posture was rigid, tense, way different from his usual graceful, soft attitude.

it simmers a few minutes.

“are you going to talk to me?”

silence. 3 street lights illuminating Michael’s face for a couple seconds. the hum of the road underneath you two.

you swallow.

“baby? i’m sorry, are you mad at me?”

silence. blank expression. he’s giving you absolutely nothing to work with.

“Michael, it was nothing. it was awkward and i didn’t want to start anything…”

5 unbearable minutes of silence later, you arrived in the driveway. seatbelts unbuckled in unison, but you lingered behind as Michael entered the house.

did he seriously just ignore you for a full 22 minutes? he didn’t even look at you. no acknowledgement. zero reaction to anything you said. he even dodged a kiss from you.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

as you walked up the stairs to your shared bedroom, Michael walked down, a neat stack of what looked like clothes in his hand, with toothpaste and a toothbrush on top.

drama king. he’ll get over it.

you thought (wrong).

three days. you would suffer for three days, actually.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

day one.

Michaels silence was surgical. so cold it seemed effortless, like he didn’t mind your nonexistence. in the kitchen that morning, you said goodmorning to him. his mouth was full of cereal but he raised his eyebrows at you, a sign of recognition that made you feel like the conflict was over. it was far from over.

Michael’s blood was boiling. it had been about 12 hours now. he was still as angry as ever at you. you embarrassed him. you lied to him. you hurt him. he didnt feel like he owned you anymore, which was a problem. a very big problem. he had flashbacks to when you were his. when you did as he said. when he touched you where he wanted. only him. he would touch you in your sleep, kiss you, bite you, fuck you. you never minded, because you knew who you belonged to. he wasn’t sure that you were still aware.

as he poured the creamer, you summoned behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, your breasts pressing against his back. he picked up his mug, stepped outside of your reach, and left the room. the click of the door to the den shutting felt like a slap in the face.

later, you caught him sitting on the couch, reading. you sat beside him and draped your legs across his lap, a pathetic attempt at holding him hostage there. as you faced your boyfriend, you saw nothing. as your boyfriend saw you out of the corner of his eye, he saw a filthy, lying whore. the type his mom warned him about. he felt ashamed for being so naive. he believed everything you said.

“its only you, michael, always you, baby.”

“the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.”

“i love you, mikey.”

lies. he wondered how long you had been torturing him. how many other men had kissed your skin, touched your body, imagined their dicks sliding into your warmth while you smiled in their faces.

he felt so fucking hurt. so heartbroken.

he gently moved your legs to the floor, and stood before returning to the den. you called out to him, and he ignored. you cried, and he ignored. you didn’t care when he cried. you didn’t beg for forgiveness, because you didn’t care. all he got was a “sorry Mikey.” and its just supposed to be over??

that night you laid awake, alone, and miserable. the familiar creak of the couch in the den told you that Michael had laid down as well.

the slow, wet sound of his hand stroking his dick filled the vents between your room and the den. it was so low that you had to stop breathing to hear it better.

“fuck… you’re hurtin’ me,”

Michael muttered to himself, his voice was so low and raw you almost didn’t recognize it.

“laughed for him…disrespectful bitch…. so fucking dirty.”

you should’ve felt disrespected. he had never called you those things…not out loud at least. but it made you feel something. he was finally speaking. it was him- his voice, his tone, his lips moving just to tell you what he thought of you.

a needy, moody moan followed.

you felt the urge to clench your legs shut, there was so much pressure in the bottom of your stomach. you wanted to be touched so bad. so, so badly. you needed his hands on you.

instead, your fingers drifted beneath your sleep-shorts. slow, gentle circles around your clit. guilt slammed into you. it felt so wrong to touch yourself. your body was his. he was so good at pulling pleasure from you, nobody did it like him, not even you. it was wrong. so you stopped.

as you imagined what his pretty face looked like while he was stroking, he came. you could tell by the sound of the couch squeaking suddenly and vigorously.

Michael’s exhale afterward was so deep, so relieving, so beautiful. you were happy he felt better. it didn’t matter that he was mean to you, or that he was punishing you. or that he called you those things. the truth was that he could have slapped you, choked you, spit on you, it wouldn’t matter.

you just wanted attention. you wanted things to be normal again.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

day two.

it was worse now. you woke up thinking he’d be ready. that expressing himself the night before had fixed things.

in the hallway, you grabbed his wrist and pushed him against the wall and pressed your body flush to his. you tilted your chin up to meet his pretty face, at first he somehow managed to avoid looking at you.

“Michael!”

his eyes finally met yours. finally. but only for a second. his gaze went back to the staircase a few steps away.

“Michael, please….”

your voice was so pitiful. you sounded like a peasant speaking to a king.

“i’m hungry, stop this.”

he pried your hands from around his wrist and made his way to the kitchen.

as he made his food, you hugged his waist from behind.

“Michael please just talk to me, i’m sorry…”

you whispered against his back.

he stiffened, set your arms at your sides and carried his plate to the den.

the soft click of the door, once again, made your heart skip a beat.

you couldn’t believe it.

he was serious about all of this. your mind began spiraling into panic. was he planning to leave you? did he already have someone else?

in the den, Michael couldn’t believe your audacity.

“please talk to me.”

“i’m sorry.”

you weren’t sorry when that other man was there. you weren’t sorry when he kissed you. you were sorry that you got caught. for all Michael knew, you wouldn’t have even told him about it if he hadn’t been stalking you like a hawk the entire evening.

he was silent until nightfall.

as you passed the den to go upstairs, you noticed the door was cracked. Michael was down there, sprawled across the couch, legs wide open, one hand behind his head, the other fisting his dick.

the nice creamy sounds made you crumble. you couldn’t stop watching. his face was soooo pretty, you could see a little bit of his stomach, his shirt was pulled up above his belly button.

he began doing slow short strokes just around the tip, his head fell back, his mouth opened, a soft “fuck,” escaped his lips.

“..hurting me… fuck baby.”

you watched helplessly.

“miss your mouthhhh” his words dragged as he came, the sounds of him being satisfied and happy brought tears to your eyes.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

day three, morning.

morning came too soon. you didn’t sleep much.

he’s already awake.

you hear him calmly opening drawers in another room, like nothing is happening. like everything is normal.

you cant take another day of this.

he’s in the next room over, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, focused as usual. he doesn’t look up when you enter.

“Michael.”

no response.

“are you seriously going to keep ignoring me?”

“i’m not ignoring you, i’m getting ready.”

the calmness kills you. he doesn’t fucking care. none of this matters to him. did he ever care?

“its been three days! three full days Michael!”

your voice is a little hoarse from inactivity.

he doesn’t respond.

“fine. if you don’t want to talk thats fine.”

the words begin spilling out before you can stop them.

“but can you please just…touch me?” you pause a second after your voice cracks.

“can you please just- can you please fuck me??”

for the first time in days he looks at you. really looks at you. and you almost wish he hadn’t. you’ve never felt more subhuman in your life. you didn’t realize he could affect you this much.

“i just need something, Mikey. i cant keep feeling like i don’t exist to you….”

for a second, just a split second, it seems like it worked. like he was finally giving in. he stood, now towering over you perfectly. you couldn’t take your eyes off his lips, you felt like a lion that hadn’t eaten in days.

instead of giving you what you wanted, he leaned in ever so slightly, and broke your heart.

“i have work.”

he stepped around you and left. the front door gently clicked shut.

begging me to fuck her now? after being a slut for someone else like that?

she can wait.

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

day three, night.

the tension in the house was the most miserable sensation you had felt in years. you had never thought about your parents relationship in comparison to your until now. originally you were a helpless victim, now you decided that two can play at this game.

after he arrived home, you spent the evening ignoring him. when he passed through the living room you didn’t look up from your phone, despite wanting to peek at his hips as he walked by.

you made dinner for yourself only. humming softly to soothe yourself and distract yourself from the fact that you were dying inside.

when nine pm hit, you began getting ready. styling your braid out, putting on a little black dress, and heels you knew he liked.

you felt him watching you from the hallway. perfect.

he stepped inside of the doorway, arms crossed, jaw radiating nothing but irritation.

“where do you think you’re going?”

he really emphasized the “think”

“out.”

“with who?”

“some friends.”

he let out an amused chuckle as he dropped his arms.

“you aren’t goin’ anywhere.”

“you won’t talk to me or touch me so who cares? i deserve to have fun.”

you were standing in front of the door now, waiting for him to move out of the way and let you out.

he didn’t.

“so after all this time you didn’t learn your lesson? still trying to throw yourself at other men??”

the argument exploded.

“don’t you dare do that.”

“do what Michael! what the hell have i done to you, please explain.”

his silence after was worse than any rebuttal he could’ve had. you could see how he was trying to stay kind and calm even though he was pissed after being provoked for days.

“you don’t get to punish me like this. you don’t get to make me beg to be wanted. you’re cruel, Michael.”

his jaw flexed as your voice trembled.

“you think i don’t want you? you think thats what this is?”

your mental was reacting in a way you didn’t like. all of your defiance was gone.

“so then tell me what this is.”

he crossed his arms again.

“its just as you said…punishment.”

you dropped to your knees in front of him, holding onto his belt as an anchor.

“so forgive me, Michael.”

tears.

“please just forgive me, i’m so sorry.”

more tears.

“i just want to be normal. please just touch me…talk to me.”

he dropped his arms once more. looked down on you. really looked down on you, as if you were a dog that needed to be put out of its misery.

he turned, and left.

you began a crying fit, gasping in disbelief. how could he? how could he become Lucifer in only 3 days?

you followed him, eyes streaming with tears, legs shaky and weak.

in the den he sat on the couch, legs spread. his voice was kind again, like how it was before the party.

“on your knees. here.”

he gestured toward the floor in front of him.

you did as he said, still wiping tears from your eyes.

he helped you.

he wiped stray tears from your jawline away with his thumb.

“its okay. don’t cry.”

he muttered, trailing his thumb across your plump lips, looking at them as if they were old friends he couldn’t wait to hang out with again.

he unbuttoned his pants. it was so hard that it sprung out, standing up straight in the air between you two.

he began stroking. very very softly, even moving a bit forward to bring it closer to your face, careful not to let his length touch you yet.

“tell me you love me.”

“i love you.”

you whispered immediately, a tear falling from your eye.

“i love you so much, Michael.”

Michael let out a shaky needy moan. a moan of satisfaction. his tip began to leak more.

“tell me you’re mine.”

“i’m yours baby, i love you, i’m only yours.”

you leaned in and rested your cheek on his knee, one hand gently rubbing his calf in slow, soothing motions, trying to keep him comfortable while he stroked himself over your face. he kept mumbling, voice wavering at times.

“why would you want to hurt me like that? dressing like that, trying to leave me…”

his eyes were so beautiful, ever so slightly filling with tears. you didn’t realize he cared this much.

“you ruined me. i touched myself every night thinking about you, you didn’t even check on me. you did this to me…”

his hips twitched up into his fist on accident, he stroked faster for a few moments. the wet sounds filled the room, filled your brain, filled your heart. you were so happy that he was feeling better.

“watch me baby, okay?”

he continued the long strokes. base to tip, thumb caressing his tip on every upstroke, spreading each bead of precum that leaked from the pretty little slit at the top until every vein glistened.

his moans became more and more broken.

his hand became faster and faster.

“asking me to fuck you this morning like a slut? taunting me like that- mhmph- yeah, stay right there.”

some long strokes, some short strokes around the tip, occasional squeezes around the base as he stopped himself from nutting all over your face a couple times.

his breathing became a little irregular, his thighs began to tense. precum was steady now, a few drops landing on your lips as you sat obediently, trying to help your baby feel better.

his moans became erratic.

he stood.

“open for me, please… baby, open.”

just as you parted your lips, Michael slid into your mouth and fucked into it with long strokes. he immediately threw his head back in pleasure.

“oh my… good girl… missed that mouth so fucking much, you hurt me so bad baby- why?”

tears resumed falling down your face as he fucked deeper, making your whole head move with his hips. slobber flowing down your chin and down the side of your neck as the wet, muffled sounds of your mouth being used as a sex toy filled the den.

you knew he liked the noises. you liked them too. he liked that you couldn’t speak, or else you’d choke on his dick.

he threw his head back as he kept fucking your face, getting about 11 more strokes in before your throat started feeling too good.

he pulled out, stroking fast over your face as you messily pushed the excess spit out of your mouth, sending it slithering down your chin like a pornstar. he was having trouble looking at you, it was all too much. too perfect. he whimpered as he painted your face, at the end placing his tip on your forehead triumphantly.

he dragged his tip over one of the ropes he left on your cheek.

“help me clean baby. eat the cum off my dick, okay?”

you licked every drop off his dick as he guided the tip across your face, moaning affectionately as your face became cleaner while you two worked together.

he stood you up and walked you to the bathroom. he grabbed a towel from the closet, wet it with warm water, stood behind you in the mirror, and cleaned your face, neck, and chest. it was so messy he had to get a second towel.

after that, you two fell asleep, skin to skin.

“please don’t hurt me like that again. i love you too much.”

“im sorry, mikey.”

𓆝𓆟𓆞𓆝𓆟

The end.

tags: @liberiangirl7 @violentvirgosgroove @myfavoriteflavorchocolate

[angeliceyess]

In the shower

Synopsis - With the both of your busy schedules colliding, a needy Michael finds any opportunity to receive your TLC, even in the shower!

Warnings - sub!Michael, dom!Reader, begging, kind of mean reader, Michael crying, Handjob, slight biting, porn with tiny bit of plot

You knew before you starting dating him that alone time with Michael would be a rarity. Something that would be uncommon and yet so addictive. And though it felt like the two of you were disconnected from one another’s lives at times, Michael made it a point to squeeze in some time with you, his pretty girl.

You were putting an end to a long day by taking a warm shower and were expecting a night alone, this had become routine for you whilst Michael was creating his soon released album ‘Bad’. As you bend over to scrub at your legs, you felt a hard thick length press against your folds. Quickly turning around to see what it was, you were met with a delicious scene of Michael standing towards you, messy hair and a look of pure agony in his eyes. You let out a quick giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, “Mikey, you scared the life out of me!” He whines at even the slightest of physical contact as his needy body yearns for more. “M’sorry mama you looked so beautiful and-and I’ve been thinking about you all day I mean I’ve been going crazy and-“ he babbles on, the overwhelming feeling of lust turning him almost brainless. You’re quick to shut him up with a sensual kiss, one that he has no other choice but to melt into. As you walk him backwards so that his back hits the wall, you feel him taking you in completely with his hands. They study your every inch and then worship you like you are the pinnacle of heaven on earth.

Pulling away to catch your breath, you watch his every movement, the way his face contorts into a painful neediness, the way his long fingers scramble for something to hold onto, the way his eyes refuse to stay open as he stares back with half lidded eyes. “Oh my sensitive puppy you’re so worked up huh? You want me to help you sweet boy?” you cooed at him in a patronising voice which only seems to make him more desperate. He pulls you close, his hard weeping length begging for attention against your pelvis. He tries to lean in to initiate a kiss but you quickly reject it forcing him to accept defeat whilst whimpering into the crook of your neck.

“Please mama it hurts please I’ve been waiting all day I’ve been so good!” He cries out and you decide that your sweet boy deserves some kind of release. Quickly, you hold onto his eager cock, watching in awe as the drops of precum runs down his dark and twitching length. You watch him closely as his face skews in pleasure, loud and breathless whimpers escaping his beautiful lips. “It’s so good it’s so good baby God- thank you I love you thank you” he chants out in loud cries of prayer. You pull him closer to you, your legs between his and his head now leaning against your shoulder. “Ohhh my handsome prince, you’ve needed this so much haven’t you puppy? You been thinking about me ruining you all day hm?” Your voice is smooth and condescending and it only pushes him further to his edge. As he gets closer to his finish, you feel him biting and sucking onto your shoulder, the pleasure becoming an out of body experience. You watch as he pushes his head back against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open, he’s too overwhelmed by the pleasure your hand has given him, no words are able to leave his mouth as his eyes roll back and he feels his hot cum squirting all over you.

As he rides through his high, he tries to focus on your praises but he becomes overly aware of your hand, still pumping him. He quickly moves your hand away, panting. “No more please I’m so sensitive” he looks up at you with eyes that could melt the sun, you take a moment to observe the utter mess he made and how beautiful he looked whilst doing it. “Look at me now Michael, I just washed myself and now I have your cum all over me” you roll your eyes as he responds only with a bashful smile. “Let me take care of you mama, don’t you worry girl”

A/n - do you guys like the longer posts or are shorter parts like this better? I’d really love some feedback and maybe some requests! I’m pretty open minded so just lmk!

[mikaylajacksonnn]

me when i open tumblr to loads of new fics for me to binge read.. 😫

[sincerelyysunnyy]

in the closet

genre: fluff

pairing: dangerous!michael jackson x reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: after michael overhears you talking to your friends about your relationship, the two of you discover your definitions of privacy aren't quite the same.

cw: established relationship, dangerous era, miscommunication, mentions of sex (no smut)

masterlist

the living room was warm and dimly lit, only by the soft glow of the muted television and a single floor lamp in the corner. you were curled up on the sofa, a plush throw blanket draped over your lap and your feet kicked up casually over the armrest. the cordless phone was pressed tight against your ear and you were mid-giggle, a breathless and unrestrained laugh that came deep from in your chest. you didn’t hear the front door click open.

michael stepped inside, setting his jacket down quietly. he looked exhausted, his shoulders slightly slouched from a long day at the studio, but the moment he heard the sound of your voice, his expression softened. a faint but genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips. he made sure not to slam the door, moving quietly so as not to interrupt whatever moment you were having.

“girl,” you said into the receiver, leaning back into the cushions. “no, because when i tell you that man…”

through the small earpiece your friend erupted into a muffled high pitch scream. you collapsed onto the couch, dissolving into a fit of laughter with a hand pressed over your face. standing near the entryway, michael shook his head with a  small fond chuckle. he stepped out of his shoes, preparing to walk over and wrap his arms around you.

then, your laughing subsided. you sat up a bit, glancing around instinctively, though not far enough to see him lingering by the front door and lowered your voice into a whisper. “girl i’m telling you, i could barely walk the next morning.”

michael stopped mid step. the fond smile on his face slowly drained away. he hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but the sentence hit the quiet room with unmistakable clarity, leaving no doubt that you were talking about your sex life. his eyes dropped to the floor as your voice dropped another octave, continuing the story with the kind of unfiltered intimacy reserved only for late night phone calls with a best friend. a sudden uncomfortable weight settled into the pit of michael’s stomach. he stood motionless for a second, caught in the awkward space of making his presence known and pretending he had heard nothing at all.

deciding on the latter, he carefully shifted his weight backward. silently, michael retreated down the hallway toward your bedroom, leaving you alone in the dim light, still whispering happily into the phone.

by eleven, the kitchen smelled of reheated leftovers. michael was setting two plates on the table, his movements measured and precise. on the surface, everything looked normal. he still kissed the top of your head when he passed your chair,  still poured your water first, and agreed to put on the movie you’d been dying to see. but the room felt heavy.

michael was quiet. not angry, but distant as if a thin glass wall had been put up between you. he chuckled at the movie's opening joke a beat too late, his attention never quite on the screen. Instead, his gaze kept drifting toward the darkened window beside the television. his thumb traced a slow, rhythmless pattern over your knuckles where your hands rested on the couch, affectionate as ever, but entirely somewhere else.

“you okay?” you asked, leaning into his side. “you seem off tonight.”

michael offered a soft rehearsed smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “just tired from the studio. had a long day.”

it was an easy answer. too easy. you knew the contours of his mood better than that. like the way his jaw subtly clenched when he chewed, or the slight pause before he answered simple questions. it was written all over him. you opened your mouth to nudge past the polite wall he was building, when he suddenly stopped stroking your hand.

michael swallowed, his throat bobbing hard. he didn’t look at you immediately. instead he stared down at your joined hands, his chest rising and falling in one deep, hesitant breath. when he finally turned his head toward you, the apprehensive look in his eyes made your stomach drop.

“can i ask you something?” his dark eyes held yours, steady and unreadable, though the subtle tension in his jaw gave him away. “how much do your friends know about us?” he asked quietly.

you froze. the blanket draped over your lap suddenly felt like a ton of bricks. the casual laughter filled phone call from earlier flashed through your mind. the raw details, the breathless giggles, the sheer lack of filter. 

“you heard me,” you said, the realization settling into your stomach like stone. 

“i heard a little,” michael admitted, his tone calm, almost apologetic, as if he were the one who’d done something wrong. “i’m not trying to control who you talk to or what you talk about,” he began, picking his words with painstaking care. “i know people share things, and i know friends talk. but those moments… the things we do when it’s just the two of us… they’re really private to me.”

the embarrassment blooming in your chest instantly hardened into something defensive. it was an instinctive reaction. feeling caught, feeling exposed, and immediately building a fortress to protect yourself. “oh, come on,” you snapped, pulling your hand back from his grip and sitting up straight on the couch. "what, you think my friends are gonna sell stories to the press? they’re my best friends, michael. they’re not like that.”

the moment the words left your mouth, michael shook his head. “no,” he said gently, reaching back out to hover his hand over yours. “no sweetheart. that’s not what i mean at all.”

he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. the defensive wall you’d just built suddenly felt small and childish against the quiet, raw sincerity in his voice. “it’s not about your friends, and it’s not about me not trusting them,” michael said softly. he took a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. “it’s about us.” he paused, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, searching for the language to bridge a gap he had been carrying around all evening.

“i’ve spent my whole life in spaces where everyone wants a piece of me,” he explained. “everyone feels entitled to know who i am, what i’m doing, how i feel.” he reached out again, and this time he gently took your fingers in his, his thumb tracing the back of your hand with a slow, deliberate pressure. “when i’m with you, when we’re behind closed doors, that’s the only place where i don’t have to share. the things we say to each other, the way we touch, the things we do late at night… those moments are sacred to me.”

the anger you’d felt a moment ago evaporated, completely replaced by a heavy, humbling clarity. you hadn't meant any harm. it was just girl talk, the kind of unfiltered oversharing that felt entirely harmless in the moment. but seeing it through his eyes and understanding that what felt like a casual joke to you felt like a breach of sanctuary to him, hit you right in the chest.

“michael… i’m sorry,” you said softly, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his shoulder. “i wasn’t trying to disrespect you. truly.”

he reached up, his fingers tangling gently through your hair before resting against the nape of your neck. you swallowed, feeling a sheepish flush return to your cheeks, though for an entirely different reason this time. "honestly… i was bragging.”

michael blinked. the heavy serious expression on his face faltered, caught completely off guard. “bragging?”

a small breathless laugh escaped you. “yeah, you make my friends jealous.”

“oh.” the vulnerable weight in Michael’s shoulders gave way to a flush of deep red creeping up his neck. the quiet, solemn man from two minutes ago was suddenly visibly flustered, staring at you in disbelieving silence. 

“still…” he stammered, coughing lightly to regain his composure as he cleared his throat. “can we agree some things stay ours?”

you smiled, reaching up to gently cup his jaw. “of course, i promise." a mischievous glint returned to your eyes. you nudged his chest with your shoulder. “but you know… if you didn’t want me talking, maybe stop giving me so much to brag about.”

“oh lord,” michael groaned softly, burying his blushing face straight into the crook of your neck to hide his smile, his arms wrapping tight around your waist.

you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “our secret,” you whispered.

[kkgalerii]

: ̗̀➛ imagine accidentally falling asleep with your best friend michael, only to wake up to the sweet sounds of his whimpers in the night due to a wet dream...of you. 18+

ᰔ the bedroom is dead silent, save for the soft hum of the rain outside. you stir under the heavy comforter, blinking through the dark as sleep slowly fades away.

you’re wrapped in the sudden, furnace-like heat radiating from michael beside you. you’d both fallen asleep after a movie marathon, tangled up in blankets like always. but something feels different. a low, hitching breath breaks the quiet.

michael is lying on his back, his jaw tense and dark curls clinging to his forehead. his hips roll—a slow, helpless tilt that presses his body flush against your side. a faint, involuntary moan catches in his throat as his eyes remain tightly shut, locked in a vivid dream.

his fingers grip the sheet near your waist as another desperate, rolling motion passes through him, his body seeking relief right against your hip. he arches slightly, letting out a soft, raspy sigh as he whimpers your name into the quiet room, breathy and desperate—"baby... please"—completely unaware that you're awake and feeling every involuntary movement.

[kkgalerii]

“please baby, please” IM FUCKIN THROBBING BRO