THE FOGGED GLASS OF YOUR BEDROOM WINDOW—the same bedroom that once belonged to him—obstructed Tate’s view of you, the thundering wind and downpour of the late hour shining through.
He reached the sleeve of his green and black striped sweater up to the glass, wiping away at a condensed spot to look through.
Then, he spotted you. You were threading your fingers through your hair as you adjusted the costume you wore—oblivious to the watchful boy outside. Your costume consisted of a matching black corset and skirt. When did Halloween costumes become so.. ordinary? Tate thought with slight disapproval, a frown on his face.
That was until you began to pull the hem of your black skirt to the floor, stepping out of the pool of fabric that landed around your feet. You stepped out of the Converse you wore, leaving them next to the discarded skirt.
Tate watched as you walked around in your small corset and black lace panties, making your way to the door of your bedroom. He couldn’t hear it, but he saw you turn the old metal lock of the door closed. You suddenly turned to face the window, causing Tate to turn abruptly away, his back slamming against the brick wall of the old home next to the glass. He panted, before peeking a narrow eye through the glass.
You hadn’t noticed him, but Tate now noticed that you had discarded your underwear, leaving you in just the tight corset. His eyes travelled from your naked bottom-half up to your supported breasts, the skin peeking through the tight fabric of your costume. He shut his eyes, feeling his dead member beginning to pulse to life through his pants.
You faced toward your bed, which lay directly in front of the window Tate peered through. Watching carefully, praying you wouldn’t notice his presence, he watched as your hand reached for the pillow that rested at the headboard of your bed.
You sat down on the bed, your knees spread apart as you placed your weight on them. You hiked the fluffed pillow between your spread thighs, your bare bottom sitting directly on-top of it.
You faced towards your shut bedroom door, leaving Tate with a direct view of your ass. He watched as you began to move, your hips dragging down on the pillow.
Your movements switched between circular drags of your hips and slight bounces on the fabric—your hands reaching behind you for a better angle of pleasure. Tate couldn’t help but imagine himself in this situation. What it would feel like for him to lay underneath you as you bounced on him, the way your hands would brace themselves on his chest.
He shamelessly reached for the zipper of his jeans, hurriedly pulling the metal zip down as his hand reached inside his boxers. He let out a small whine, the aching sensation that had been longing for attention finally drawing out.
At almost the same time, Tate could hear you let out a faint moan through the glass, as your hips worked faster to chase your high. He watched the bounces of your bottom-half, as his hand moved down his long shaft, liquid pooling.
Your movements became more sporadic, before you came with a loud cry of pleasure, your hips faltering. Tate threw his head back, his own pleasure subduing him.
You sat deflated on the pillow, catching your breath. As you breathed through your parted lips, you turned your head towards the window behind you.
There was no one there—except for a small portion of glass that was rubbed clean of fog.
꒰ ( a/n ) : sorry if the letters look rlly clunky i could not be bothered to make the letters smaller. I also was originally going to make this have smut elements but this has been burning a hole in my drafts so i had to get rid of it so gyulp dont burn me at the steak.
The night began with a phone call—or rather a voice mail.
“Hey, lovely girl. It's Michael. Uhm. Michael Jackson ...uh applehead.” You could hear him awkwardly grinning through the phone.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a movie. I've been thinking about you all week ‘nd, y'know. I miss you.” and of course you couldn't say no.
So you dolled up in your prettiest dress and your cutest accessories and did your hair that special way you knew Michael liked. He never explicitly told you he liked it. But everytime you wear it you swear he begins to stutter just a little more, and you just can't pass that up.
—
Once you arrived at Hayvenhurst, he somehow coaxed you to watch a movie—some slasher that you dug out of a crate stuffed on his bookshelf. You'd never admit it but you were such a sucker for cheesy horror films. Something about the way you could just turn your brain off and watch the absurdity of it unfold really appealed to you.
And to your surprise Michael didn't protest. You'd have thought he'd want to watch Charlie Chaplin again, yet when you pulled the tape from the crate he just flashed you a smile from the kitchen, scooping just one bowl of strawberry ice cream.
A little weird but nothing notable.
You always forgot how well off Michael was. VHS players were so hard to come by due to their exuberant prices. So you loved coming over to watch movies at his place. Hayvenhurst always felt like a second home away from home. Mainly because of Michael. His siblings and mother were always so welcoming and always so sweet.
Of course his brothers and sisters always made it a point to embarrass Michael whenever he invited you over. But it made you feel included; part of the family.
“D'you not want any?” You called out just as the VHS player sucked the cassette into its mechanical jaws.
“No, I'm ok, lovely. I'll probably just steal some a’ yours anyways.”
“Try it and I'll fight you.”
Michael met you on the couch and handed you the bowl. You sprawled out, making yourself comfortable by curling your legs against your chest, and resting the porcelain bowl between your arms.
The spoon gently clattering against the bowl with each little movement.
—
“Oh my god. She is such a punk. She's not even trying to run away!” You gestured to the tv in annoyance before taking a spoonful of strawberry ice cream into your mouth.
So far the movie has been nothing but frustrating. At least for you. The main characters keep getting picked off one by one by the killer and continue to make the same stupid choices. Which, you don't know what you expected from a movie called ‘Heinous Carvings 5’ without seeing any of the previous 4 movies but you'll take what you can get.
“Huh? Oh yeah.” He chuckled lamely.
“Is something wrong?” You asked, turning to look at him to see that he was already looking at you. “We're almost halfway through this movie and you don't even seem interested.”
“Pardon? No, it's not that I'm not interested, really. It's just.. i- your perfume is distracting me.”
“Does it smell bad?” the question stuck to the roof of your mouth. Suddenly you felt hyperaware of everything that was touching your body. Did you stink? Have you been musty this whole time? Did michael really think you stun–
“No. Of course not.” He began, his soft voice easing the worry from your mind as soon as it began. “It's uhm…it smells really good actually. Like really good.” he admitted, looking at you in a mix of bashfulness and something else you couldn't quite place.
“Sorry, that probably sounded weird-”
“Oh my god, Mike. Don't scare me like that. You're such a schmuck.” you sighed, kicking him with a socked foot.
—
It was sometime after the crazed killer slashed the group's tires that you scooted closer to him. Your head now resting against his shoulder, legs tucked under you as you nuzzled into the warmth his body generously provided.
Maybe you were imagining it. But you swore you could feel Michael's eyes looking at you throughout the movie. Something about him was strange. Not bad, just different. Different in a way you simply couldn't describe. Maybe it was easier to notice now that the room had darkened or as the comfortable silence between you two grew, but you could tell something changed.
Usually Michael was in his own world, absentmindedly humming and bobbing his head to an imaginary chorus only he could hear. It was all part of his artistic talent. So you didn't think much of it. However he seemed distracted in a different way. Seemingly distracted by you. You felt his eyes linger for long periods of time, just raking across the expanse of your shoulders. The curve of your nose and how it sat perfectly on your face. How your legs looked tucked neatly under you like a work of art—committing each part to memory like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. You even felt his fingers gently fondling with the hem of your dress.
And then you felt him press his lips against the padding of your throat.
“Mikey, stop. It tickles.” you try to sound annoyed, yet it comes out riddled with amusement. His face was buried flush against your neck at this point, yet you could imagine the embarrassed pout of his lips.
"M'sorry. You just..smell so good." He smiled into your neck, breathing in the mix of your perfume, shampoo, and something else he couldn't quite place. "Thanks, angelface." you giggled. But then the same quiet draped over you both once more. All be it short lived.
“Are you alright? You seem sort of …off toda–”
“Would you ever…leave? Because of something I can't control?” He asked abruptly. Almost like he'd been mulling over the words for a while and somehow just mustered the courage to say them.
“What? Of course not Mikey. I would never blame you for something like that.”
Your hands moved to his face, holding him in them, gently.
“But what if it's something…weird? Or not normal?”
A scoff left your lips before you could stop it.
“What're you, a vampire or something?” You joked, playfully nudging his shoulder with your fist. You expected him to return the joke in the usual way he did. However, he just looked at you. Wide-eyed. Wider than his eyes normally were. Like you had read his mind or taken the words right out of his mouth.
“C'mon, Mikey. Stop being silly. There is nothing you could do that would make me love you any differently.”
“Ok…thank you, lovely.” he dismissed.
Something about the conversation didn't sit right with you. Why would he bring that up out of nowhere and then drop it—filling you with all sorts of anticipation and build up that you never got clarity on. Yet once again. You dismissed the behavior. It wasn't anything major. Right?
—
It was around the last 20 minutes of the movie when Michael began to pepper kisses and tentatively kitten lick across the sweet spot of your neck—the movie seemingly long forgotten.
“Is…is it ok if,” he swallowed, “y'know.” Michael asked, looking up at you behind hooded eyes. Michael felt the swell of shame grow inside him. He was being too forward wasn't he?
“If I bite you?”
—
The tips of his fangs stung hot as he sank them into your skin. Your brain, so foggy and lax that you couldn't help the gasp that fell from your lips. It all felt so sudden; the sharp sting of heat followed by the sudden pain that shot throughout your body. You didn't even register the iron clad grip that you had on the cushions. Quickly the pain subsided. Lulled over by a feeling of euphoria; loud and warm inside your chest.
You nestled one of your hands in Michael's curls for added purchase. Each hum and blood-drunk sound he made reverberated into your skin.
"Mmh, you taste so good." Michael huffed between each slurp and shlick of his tongue against the honeyed nectar—lapping each bit of it up like a man dying of thirst. Every drop of sugared crimson that touched his tongue went straight to his brain and he couldn't get enough. His warm breath blew hot against your neck as a moan slipped from his parted lips, too caught it in satiating his hunger to hear the filth escaping him.
"So sweet..." he whined. The more he spoke, the less words seemed directed towards you—simply Michael mindlessly letting the thoughts swarming his mind spill, unfiltered and raw. There was that third thing again. The indescribable smell mixed beneath your perfume and shampoo: your blood. He'd never smelt something so… sugarcoated. So…intoxicating.
Your hands clutched onto the fabric of his jacket, needing anything that would ground you as he continued his gluttonous rampage on the small of your neck. You swore there would be a hickey tomorrow, purple and swollen with two shallow holes poked between.
He pulled away, and his heat left with him. You found yourself almost mewling at its absence. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, staining both a deep red.
"I'm sorry–i... a gentleman shouldn't treat you like that.."
“...”
"It's just I've never tasted blood before.” he continued, “I never thought it'd be so sweet..and once i had some I couldn't get enough."
You turned to look at him and his face said it all. His eyes met yours; already blown out in something you previously interpreted as nervousness but you know see as hunger. Before he could get another word out, you pulled his lips to yours, and you could feel yourself grinning into it. Michael's eyes widened with a short “mmhf-” before closing and going lathe into the kiss, small gasps and sighs escaping his throat between each kiss as he matched your rhythm.
You pulled off of him with a huff, clenching your hands in his collar.
He was breathing heavily, lips kiss swollen and red, his cheeks beginning to change in complexion, staring at your furrowed brows as you spoke above him like his brain was fogged over and soupy.
“Is that why you've been acting weird? Is that why you asked me that vague ass question and then dropped it out of nowhere?” you asked, punctuating your point by shaking him slightly.
He nodded.
“So you've just been a vampire this whole time? And you never told me? Am I going to be a vampire now?”
“To become a vampire I would have to drain you to the point of death, I believe. I've only been a vampire for a couple weeks.”
“M'sorry, baby. I just couldn't help myself with you sitting there all saccharine and sweet just f'me.”
mature!michael who designed your entire room with glitz and glamour, making sure it was just as perfect as you were with hues of brown and dark shimmers glowing throughout. “michael this is beautiful!” your eyes shining at the happiness you felt while gripping on his belt, seeing michael so proud of himself and the work he’s done for you. “all yours baby.”
mature!michael who installs your own dancing pole to show your dance moves and body off whenever he pleases. “that’s it mama turn around for me.”
mature!michael who watches you silently as you strip nude for him. making sure he watches slowly how much you need him to touch you—to use your body as he pleases. “c’mere mr jackson~” you purr as you paw at the tightness around his pants, hearing slivers of groans and whimpers escape his full lips.
mature!michael who films you in different lil outfits he bought for you, making sure you show off how good the itty bitty material you wore looks on your glowing complexion and your curves. “now spread open doll.” you do as he says with a playful grin as you watch him turn the camera to the side while your legs part open—showing him your slick pussy underneath the baby blue lingerie. “stay right there princess.” as he zooms in taking in the sight of you so vulnerable and soaked.
mature!michael who plays the private home videos he took of you dancing for him in the background of his room. “watch and dance baby.” he orders soon seeing your body dancing to the sounds of michael’s low groans and your heavy breathing from the sensuality of the dance.
mature!michael who lets you twirl on the pole giving him a new dance routine you’ve been practicing. “y’like it baby?” you ask shyly, still gripping on the pole before sliding down with a tap of your heels. michael clicks his tongue before standing in-front of you with a hand over your cheek. “always mama, ya doing so well for me.” he praises as he pets the top of your head with such softness.
mature!michael who hears you giggle as you spin in-front of him feeling the amount of bills glide down your body and over his bedroom floor. “look at you being so money hungry for me girl.” he chuckles still throwing bills towards your dancing frame. he loved treating you with anything, even if it meant hundreds of his own dollars on your feet and tucked between your tits happily.
mature!michael who touches your pussy as you tighten your hold on your dancing pole. grip so tight over the metal as he lets his fingers curve between the baby pink thong, soon moving it to the side. “dance on me pretty. show me how good your hips are for me, hmm?” as he lets his slender fingers push past the thong and into your wet cunt—watching closely as you sway your hips on his fingers while still moving at the soft sound of music in the background. “atta princess that’s it.”
A/N: a bit of a word vomit 😣 still trying to overcome my writers block. also lmk if u guys prefer me to use she or you
The afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, a CD player resting on the bed alongside an empty CD case of Purple Rain, Prince and the Revolution.
She was laid out on her stomach, feet swaying in the air behind her, chin propped in her hand, nodding to the beat, completely and utterly gone into the music. Just her, the music and the warm amber light pressing through the curtains. She didn't hear anything else when music had her like this.
It was something Michael had always found funny about her, the way she'd disappeared into songs. He told her once that she listened to music the way he made it, as if it was the only thing that existed. She hadn't known what to do with that compliment so she'd thrown a pillow at him instead.
Michael had promised to come over around the evening after work, it's something that they constantly do. Years of showing up unannounced and coming over to each other's houses—at this point, it's like they live with each other because of how much time they spend with one another. They're like two peas in a pot. Inseparable.
“Baby I could never steal you from another…”
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Being too gone somewhere the music had taken her, she's blissfully unaware of the knocks that had gone unanswered. Meanwhile, Michael could hear the music from the outside, a voice that sounds too familiar to his liking. He felt his chest tightened. Could it be who he thinks it is?
Usually she'd answer the knock within a heartbeat, however this time no one answered. He gave up knocking somewhere around the fourth attempt and simply tried the doorknob instead. It turned without resistance. Of course it did, it always did—and he stepped inside.
The first thing he heard was the music that's still playing. He stopped at the doorway, taking in the scene before him. She was still on her stomach, legs swaying in the air, CD humming away on the bed like it was the most important thing in the world. Michael stood there for a moment, still watching. Then he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and waiting.
It didn't take her so long to notice him standing right beside her.
She turned around.
He raised an eyebrow. “I knocked, you didn't answer…”
“I'm sorry, Mike.” She apologised, sitting up straight and signalling him to sit beside her. “I got carried away and—wow, you're here early today.”
Michael glanced at the CD case. Prince.
He took a deep breath.
It wasn't his place to feel this way but he felt it anyway.
“I finished early in the studio today,” He smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “What do you think of it? The music I mean. It was pretty loud.”
The energy in the room shifted to something else, Michael started shifting uncomfortably. One thing about Michael is that he's not subtle about his body language, it took her a second to pick up on it.
“It's a new release,” She turned to him, “Hm—I guess I'd say that it's kinda emotional. It's like I could feel it y’know”
Michael stared at the CD player, “Do you really like it?”
“What? Uh I mean it's good.”
Sure, Michael knew how to mask himself around everyone but not when it comes to her. Not to mention the fact that she could read him like a book.
Michael had gone quiet for quite awhile.
“Mike? What's wrong?” She questioned, placing her hands on his shoulders—observing his face. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just—what made you listen to him?” He fixed his eyes on her.
Every time he looks at her, she feels a surge of warmth creeping up her neck. It’s the way he would look at her time and time again, like she's the only thing that matters.
“Cousin dropped this off earlier, I figured that while I’m there waiting for you…I'll just listen for a bit.”
Michael doesn't like that one bit. That one time when he decided to take a break, Prince released a new album.
The worst part was his own—best friend? listening to it. In front of him. Michael Jackson.
“Dimwit.” He whispered to himself, taking the CD case in hand and started studying it. “Do you think he's better than me?”
“Are you seriously upset because I was listening to Prince?” She took her hands back, crossing her arms.
Part of him wished she'd keep her hands there longer, even though he knew better than to want that.
“No.” A simple answer. And yet his reaction says more than that because of how fast he pulled his gaze away from her.
“You'd make a really bad actor then,” She scooted closer to him, closing that last bit of space between them. “C’mon Mike, there's no way you're asking me that question.”
“Forget what I asked then.” He responded, still refusing to look at her.
A second had passed and she burst out laughing so hard that it earned a look from him. She had never seen Michael this upset over something this little. Maybe not so little. Maybe.
“I'm sorry Mike,” She cleared her throat, “Y’know I love your music.” And you.
“You were listening to Prince.” Oh how bitter his name sounds when it comes out of Michael's mouth.
“Hey, he's a good artist okay? I don't listen to him much but you get what I mean.”
“He tried to run me over.”
“I know, you told me.”
“And yet you were still listening to Prince.”
Michael bit his lips, glaring at the CD.
“I had nothing to do!” She kept the CD into the case and placed it on the bedside table. “I was bored okay?”
He hummed as a response, “I was just curious. Not mad.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She shrugged. “But still—”
“I guess I'll have to bring you to the studio with me every now and then,” He interrupted, which got him a smile he didn't feel like he deserved. "So you'll have something to do."
“I guess you have to.” She uttered, fixing his curls.
Michael's breath hitched at the sudden contact. He hadn't realised until just then, how easily he'd melted into her touch like it was somewhere he was allowed to be.
For the past few months, he had been convincing himself that what he felt wasn't anything more than friendship. He did. He knew he did. He just hadn't figured out what to do with that yet.
summary: It’s a quiet night on the tour bus when you and your usually shy, reluctant boyfriend steal an intensely intimate moment in the narrow, not-so-private space of the shared bus. The tension between you has been building for days, impossible to ignore in the stillness that follows the show 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
warning: sexual themes, smut, 18+, established relationship, dryhumping (the holy grail), public/near-public sex, fluff, shy/reluctant michael duh
a/n: finally got around to writing something taking place on a tour bus lol, hope u enjoy my sweet angels ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✮⋆˙<3 also i wrote this on the bus on my way to work this week, trust the screen light was on the lowest setting lol
In the wake of your boyfriend's latest album, a follow-up tour had been inevitable.
Michael had never liked touring much. The constant movement between cities, the lack of routine, the long stretches of time that blurred together backstage and on buses and in hotel rooms. Still, when he asked you to come with him, there hadn't been much hesitation in his voice. It was almost like begging on his part, though he tried not to frame it that way. He just wanted you there — on every drive between cities, every late night on the road. And maybe, though he wouldn't say it directly, something about you made it all feel more bearable. Less lonely.
It couldn't have come at a better time. With no real commitments and still figuring out what life was supposed to look like in your early twenties, you ended up joining him on tour — fresh off the success of Off the Wall.
Time stopped belonging entirely to you as the tour went on, cities passing by in a blur. Every day looked almost the same, like a loop — just different enough to not feel like ordinary life.
The Triumph Tour was technically his brothers' tour too. It was always introduced that way. But night after night the truth became harder to ignore: the hunger, the precision, the raw presence Michael brought to the stage pulled every eye in the arena toward him. The crowds screamed his name like a prayer.
There was such a stark difference between the man who commanded the stage and the quiet one you were pressed against now.
You had settled on the worn leather loveseat between his long legs, back resting lightly against his chest, playing cards with Marlon. The large tour bus carried its own rhythm — a steady hum beneath everything else, wheels rolling through late-night stretches of highway. Inside the slow-moving shelter of brushed metal, the air felt softer. Calmer.
The end of another show had left everyone in that loose wind-down state — half conversation, half silence. Some of the siblings were laughing near the back, playing video games, while others sat in low voices, recapping the concert in fragments.
You were still in your pajama set from after the shower — loose fabric patterned with small multicolored polka dots — layered beneath Michael's oversized knit sweater, the sleeves swallowing your hands. Your hair had been braided loosely, though strands had already begun to escape, soft curls framing your face again.
Behind you, Michael exhaled quietly, like he was trying not to make it obvious. His thoughts kept slipping anyway. He thought you looked so cute like this, all soft and cozy in his clothes. And from his view, the way those little shorts hugged you was almost enough to make him lose focus entirely.
He tried to listen through his headphones, pen moving loosely across the small notebook in his lap, jotting down fragments of ideas and melodies. But it wasn't easy. The way you were pressed against him, the sweet scent of your shampoo drifting up to him — it made it so hard to concentrate.
The lack of privacy had become difficult lately, made worse by the fact that you were both still deep in that early stage of infatuation. Keeping your hands off each other was more of a challenge than you'd realized. Michael was still quite shy and reserved about intimacy, with almost no experience. Yet after shows, when the post-show adrenaline left him glowing, you would catch that quiet hunger in his eyes.
You shifted slightly, adjusting your position as you leaned forward to draw another card.
Marlon let out a small laugh across from you. "You're concentrating way too hard for someone who keeps losing."
"I am not losing," you said immediately, narrowing your eyes as you placed a card down.
"You literally just did," he replied, pointing at the pile.
You scoffed. "That was strategy."
"Sure," Marlon said, leaning back with a grin. "Strategic losing. Very advanced technique."
You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh as you shifted again, this time settling more comfortably against Michael without thinking. The movement was small, almost automatic — but it pressed your ass more firmly back against him.
Behind you, Michael went very still. His pen paused mid-line. You felt the subtle tightening of his thighs on either side of you, the way his free hand instinctively settled on your hip.
Marlon didn't notice. He was still shuffling the cards, amused.
"You're just mad because I'm right," he added.
"I'm not mad," you said, half-smiling as you reached for another card.
"Mm," Marlon hummed, unconvinced.
You let out a quiet laugh under your breath, shaking your head. Behind you, Michael finally exhaled again — slower this time, almost shaky. His hand stayed on your hip, fingers pressing just a little tighter into the soft fabric of his sweater. You could feel him growing harder against you, warm and insistent, even as he tried desperately to keep his breathing even.
The contrast made your chest ache with tenderness: the same man who commanded arenas full of screaming fans was trembling behind you now, shy and overwhelmed by something as simple as your body nestled between his legs.
The game continued on like that for a few more minutes, the quiet goodnights gradually spreading through the bus as the rest of the brothers retired to their bunks. Soon only you, Michael, and Marlon remained.
You stayed nestled between Michael's legs, letting the low conversation and the steady rumble of the road fill the space. Every small shift of your body seemed to echo through him. His hand never left your hip. The warmth of him pressing against you only grew more insistent, more difficult to ignore. A slow, warm ache had begun to pool between your own thighs. And when the bus hit a bump, jostling you lightly but a little harder than before against him, whatever focus Michael had managed to hold onto finally slipped.
His voice finally came, barely more than a breath against your ear.
"Angel…" he whispered, voice low and hoarse, shy and reluctant even as his hand stayed on your hip, holding you a little tighter.
You turned your head just enough to glance at him, a soft, innocent expression on your face. "Hmmm? Did you say something, Mikey?"
Before he could answer, Marlon let out a long yawn and tossed his cards onto the table.
"Alright, I'm done," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm retiring for the night before I get accused of cheating again." He shot you a playful grin as he stood. "You two behave yourselves back here."
Marlon gave a lazy wave and disappeared behind the thin door that led to the bunk area, his footsteps fading until only the steady rumble of the bus engine remained.
And then it was just the two of you.
You didn't move at first, letting the quiet settle between you. The fragile privacy felt both thrilling and terrifying. Only the low rumble of the bus and the faint sway of the highway. Then, after a long breath, you slowly turned in his lap.
It wasn't graceful or hurried. You shifted carefully, one knee sliding across his thigh until you were facing him fully, straddling his lap. The movement pressed you intimately against the hard line of him, and you heard the way his breath caught sharply in his throat.
Now chest to chest, you were close enough to see every detail — the rapid flutter of his lashes, the deep flush blooming across his cheeks, the nervous hunger swirling in those dark fawn eyes. Your hands rose gently to cradle the sides of his face, thumbs brushing over the burning warmth of his skin.
Michael looked up at you like you were the embodiment of both his salvation and sin.
You leaned in and kissed him, slow and lingering. He melted almost instantly, a quiet sigh trembling against your lips, but you could still feel the nervous tension humming through his body. His hands settled hesitantly at your waist, unsure whether to pull you closer or push you away.
Without breaking the kiss, you rolled your hips in one long, deliberate grind, pressing your warmth against his hardness. The friction dragged a muffled, broken sound from deep in his throat — something between a whimper and a moan that he tried desperately to swallow.
You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth, voice soft and teasing.
"Shh… You have to be quiet for me, baby."
Another slow grind. Then another. You savored the way he throbbed against you with every roll of your hips, the way his fingers tightened on your waist like he was barely holding himself together.
He finally broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes were squeezed shut, lashes trembling, cheeks burning even darker in the dim light.
"Angel…" he whispered, voice hoarse and barely audible over the engine. "We shouldn't… not here. My brothers are right there… anyone could walk in."
The words were weak, almost pleading. Because even as he said them, his hips twitched upward, instinctively seeking more of you. When you took his hands and guided them lower, sliding them beneath the oversized sweater to cup your ass, he squeezed with a quiet, helpless groan.
You could feel his pulse racing through his fingertips. Your sweet, shy boyfriend — still so innocent, still carrying so much guilt — was unraveling right beneath you after days of careful restraint.
You brushed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then along his jaw.
"No one's coming out here, Mikey," you murmured, low and coaxing as you rolled your hips again, slower and deeper this time. "Just have to be quiet for me… Can you do that?"
A soft, broken whimper escaped him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, curls tickling your skin as he nodded — reluctant, ashamed, and completely helpless to the pull you had on him.
Your lips brushed his ear.
"Don't think, baby… Just feel me. I need you so badly."
That seemed to finally break him.
His hands grew bolder, sliding up under your sweater and camisole until his warm palms cupped your bare breasts. He touched you with that same reverent hesitation, thumbs brushing over your nipples with such gentle awe it made your breath catch.
He kissed you again — deeper, hungrier — trying to muffle his sounds against your tongue. You reached between your bodies, easing his pants down just enough to free him. He was achingly hard, flushed and leaking, and the sight of him made heat pool low in your belly.
You stroked him slowly, lovingly, earning another quiet whimper.
"So hard for me already…" you whispered, a teasing smile in your voice. "You've been so good, holding back all this time. Such a good boy, Mikey."
The praise made him twitch hard in your hand. He bit his lip, eyes glassy with both embarrassment and overwhelming desire.
You began stroking him with slow, deliberate movements, your hand barely able to wrap around his length as your thumb brushed tenderly over the sensitive tip. Michael's breath hitched sharply. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, fingers pressing tight as if he could physically hold back the sounds rising in his throat. The sheer risk of it all — being touched so intimately here, on the worn loveseat while the bus carried his sleeping brothers just beyond the thin door — sent a dizzying wave of shame and thrill through him.
He was already trembling, dangerously close after so many days of quiet longing.
As the steady rhythm continued, he suddenly caught your wrist, his grip gentle but urgent.
"Fuck," he whispered, the word so soft and foreign on his tongue.
You paused, surprised by the rare curse. It sent a warm flutter through your chest and lower still.
"A-angel… please," he breathed, voice barely audible over the low rumble of the engine. "You have to stop. I—I don't want to finish like this."
You tilted your head, eyes soft in the dim light. "What do you want, baby?"
He looked away, cheeks burning beneath the flush that refused to fade. His hand covered half his face as he struggled with the words.
"I want to finish inside you."
The quiet confession settled between you like something sacred and forbidden.
You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
"You're so dirty tonight, Michael… saying things like that when we're not even truly alone."
A shaky exhale left him. Before he could reply, you shifted, sliding your shorts and panties aside. You took his hand and guided it between your thighs, letting his fingers meet the slick warmth of your arousal.
His lashes fluttered. "Oh my God," he whispered, voice cracking with reverence. "You're so wet… and warm."
"All for you," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Only you make me feel this way."
You brought his glistening fingers to your lips and slowly, lovingly licked them clean, never breaking eye contact. A low, helpless moan escaped him — louder than either of you expected. You smiled softly and pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shhh…"
You rose slightly, hovering above him, heart beating in time with the steady hum of the highway beneath you.
"You've been so good for me these past few days," you whispered. "So patient. Let's put some of that after-show energy to better use."
Then you sank down onto him in one slow, continuous motion.
The stretch, the overwhelming closeness, the quiet intimacy of it all drew a strangled sound from deep in Michael's chest. He buried his face instantly in the crook of your neck, biting gently into the soft knit of his own sweater to muffle the noise. His arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand splayed across your back, the other gripping your hip as though you were the only steady thing in his world.
For a long moment, neither of you moved — only breathed together as the bus hummed onward through the night, its gentle vibrations traveling through your joined bodies like a secret pulse.
When you finally began to move, it was slow and deep. Rolling grinds at first, savoring every inch, then gradually building into a tender rhythm. Michael met your movements with small, desperate rocks of his hips, his face remaining hidden against your shoulder, curls damp against your skin. Broken, whispered praises slipped from his lips between shaky breaths.
"You feel… so warm… so perfect…"
His hand slipped between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with shy reverence. Despite his inexperience, there was something remarkably natural about the way he touched you. Not skilled in the conventional sense, but guided by instinct — as though the language of pleasure lived somewhere deep within him, waiting to be discovered. Every touch carried a quiet devotion, yet somehow he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, reading each reaction as it came.
Soft, breathy sounds escaped you, quiet enough to blend with the low drone of the engine.
He was trembling beneath you, fighting so hard to stay quiet, but you could feel how close he already was — every twitch, every stutter of his breath.
You leaned close, lips brushing his ear, voice barely more than a sigh.
"Feels so good, Mikey… Please, baby. I need you to come deep inside me."
The words seemed to unravel him completely.
Michael's arms tightened around you. His hands slid down to grip your hips with sudden, desperate strength, and he began thrusting up into you with more urgency. Each stroke was deep and instinctive, brushing against that perfect spot inside you again and again. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your soft moans and panting breaths muffled against his warm skin.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes in the dim light. His own were glassy, dark, and full of desperate adoration.
"I want you to come around me, angel… please," he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling. "Please… I need you to."
The eye contact, the raw need in his voice, the way he kept moving inside you — it was too much. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. You came with a soft, shuddering sigh, clenching around him as stars bloomed behind your eyes. Your forehead pressed against his, breaths mingling in the small space between you.
Michael followed right behind you. His whole body went rigid, a muffled, broken moan vibrating against your shoulder as he spilled deep inside you. The sensation of him pulsing and filling you drew another quiet whimper from your throat.
For a long moment afterward, the world narrowed down to just the two of you and the low, endless drone of the bus rolling through the night. You stayed joined, breathing each other in. Michael's arms remained wrapped tightly around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back in soothing patterns. His cheeks were flushed deep red, and you could feel the shy embarrassment slowly creeping back in now that the haze of pleasure was fading.
"I can't believe we just did that… here," he whispered, pressing a soft, apologetic kiss to the spot on your shoulder where he'd bitten down earlier. Still, a small, dazed smile played on his lips. "You make me lose my mind, angel."
The words came out with a breathless little laugh. His cheeks were still flushed as he looked at you.
"I love you more than anything, you know that?"
You pulled back just enough to look at him, smiling like a lovesick fool. You brushed a damp curl away from his forehead and kissed him sweetly.
"I love you, handsome."
A fresh blush bloomed across his face.
You stayed like that for a while, trading lazy kisses, the gentle rocking of the bus beneath you. Eventually you grinned softly, leaning in to kiss him deeper, rolling your hips in a slow, teasing circle that pulled a quiet, helpless whimper from his throat.
His eyes fluttered, still half-lidded with lingering pleasure.
"Maybe we can go again…" you whispered against his lips, voice playful and warm. "Just one more time. You can be good and quiet for me again, can't you, Mikey?"
Michael let out a shaky little laugh that melted into a soft moan as you moved once more. His head fell back against the loveseat, eyes shining with complete devotion and a touch of disbelief.
"Lord help me," he breathed, voice trembling with both embarrassment and love. "I can't say no to you."
You smiled against his mouth.
"I know you can't, sweetheart."
The highway stretched on through the dark, carrying your secret safely through the night, while Michael—sweet, shy, and helplessly in love—gave himself over to you all over again.
michael jackson!bad era 𝑥 𝒇!model reader ╱ you in a silk nightgown in front of your vanity removing your makeup while michael lies in bed watching you lovingly.
contains fluff, horny flirting, cunnilingus, fingering & heavy smut, so minors KEEP SCROLLING.ᐟ
𝓉here was something almost hypnotizing about the way you stood in front of the vanity in nothing but silk and perfume. it was cluttered with makeup wipes, expensive perfume bottles, and gold jewelry carelessly tossed aside.
michael thought it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. it had him in a trance while he lay against the pillows behind you, completely incapable of taking his eyes off you.
“baby,” michael said from the bed, watching your reflection through the vanity mirror.
“hm?” you cooed.
“you’re real pretty, y’know that?”
you couldn’t help but bat your lashes at your boyfriend through the reflection, a smile spreading across your face.
“oh stop it, you.” you were practically melting from his tender gaze.
“what,” he chuckled, “i’m serious.”
you rolled your eyes playfully at his attempts at flirting, knowing damn well how easy you always fell for it. the only sound to be heard throughout the room was the bracelets clinking on your wrist as you applied the moisturizer to your skin and the city bustling over a soft ronettes record you had playing. you leaned in a bit closer to the mirror to apply your vanilla flavored lip gloss—specifically the one michael really likes.
you noticed how quiet he got, peering back at him again to find him fidgeting with the silver rings around his fingers. michael sank slightly deeper into the pillows, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip as his eyes followed your every movement, admiring you lovingly. you caught his eyes drifting down to your chest that glistened in the light from the body oil you applied prior, causing you to smirk because you knew exactly what he was doing.
“you gonna keep starin’ at me like that?” you whispered, placing the lipgloss down while your eyes never left his.
michael’s eyes flickered back up to yours through the mirror, a crooked smile slowly pulling at his lips like he’d just been caught red handed.
“depends,” he murmured.
“on what?”
“on if you’re gonna keep lookin’ this pretty in front of me.”
you let out a quiet laugh beneath your breath, shaking your head while reaching for your brush again. “you’re unbelievable.” you couldn’t help the sensation he brought you with his sly words.
“mhm,” he hummed absentmindedly, though he clearly wasn’t listening anymore.
your movements slowed slightly as you watched him push himself up from the bed out of the corner of your eye. the mattress dipped quietly before his footsteps crossed the suite, slow and unhurried. your stomach tightened embarrassingly fast at the realization he was walking toward you.
michael stopped behind you, close enough for you to catch the warmth radiating from his body almost immediately. one of his hands settled lightly against the vanity beside you while the other found your waist with familiarity.
“michael,” you whispered with a smile, though it came out far less composed than intended.
“what?” he grinned innocently, lowering his head slightly near your shoulder.
you could see him perfectly through the reflection now. the dark curls hanging loosely near his face, the silver rings glinting beneath the warm bedroom lights, the way his eyes shamelessly wandered over you before returning back to your lips.
his fingertips traced slowly against the silky material hugging your waist, almost absentmindedly. “can you blame me?” he murmured. “been sittin’ over there tryin’ real hard to behave myself.”
your breath caught in your throat at the confession.
“oh really?” you teased quietly.
michael laughed under his breath before he started leaving a trail of lingering kisses from behind your ear and down your freshly perfumed neck.
“mhm,” he said between kisses, “you’re not makin’ it easy.”
your stomach went all in knots over the way he pampered you with his affection. he swiftly moved your hair to rest on your other shoulder before his hands started feeling down the lace hem of the night gown to your bare thighs. you watched him in the reflection with heavy eyes, his gaze briefly locking onto yours before his kisses traveled down to your shoulder—god he couldn’t get enough of your scent.
in a careful movement he turned you around to face him, taking a moment to appreciate you in all your beauty.
“may i kiss you?” he asked under his breath. no matter how impatient he was to slip that little piece of satin off of you, he was still gentlemanly which made your heart melt every time even though the answer was always yes.
you gave him an affirming nod with a small smile as he leaned in, embracing you with his long arms. it was deeply passionate, not rushing. he wanted to take his time with you, you were his safe haven.
after a few minutes, he led you to your queen bed and laid you down on the mattress, being careful not to let you down too hard with a hand on the back of your head. his tenderness toward you just made you even needier for him.
you pulled him on top of you, him now kneeling between your legs. warm kisses trailed down your neck again, you could feel how impatient he was with how hungrily he was attacking your skin with small nips. your hands felt up his back as his felt up your thighs, grazing the tiny piece of cotton you had underneath your nightgown which caused you to shiver beneath him.
he pulled away from your neck to murmur in your ear, “this okay, doll?” his fingers hooked around your panties, drawing circles with his thumbs on your bare skin.
you cupped his face with one hand and nodded, “yes my love.”
and with that, he slowly pulled them down and over your feet, watching your facial expressions as you watched his movements. you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to pull him back, a boyish grin on display. you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just from how handsome he looked in the moody lighting.
his mouth met yours once again, the same hungry passion from before. you groaned against him as you ached for his touch.
“someone’s needy.” michael teased in between your guys’ lips as his hands explored your figure once more, knowing how sensitive you were to his touch, before guiding your legs to spread for him. your hands ran underneath his shirt, your nails lightly dragging against his warm skin, a pleased hum buzzed through his lips. you felt his hard member through his pants against your sensitive core.
“please..” you couldn’t help but plead for a bit of ease from the ache between your legs.
“what’s wrong, mama?” he purred as he kissed against your collar bone now, “use your words.”
you hesitated at first as his eyes were glued to your face. he made you so unbelievably nervous underneath him, but he was so convincing and assuring.
“please touch me..” you mumbled. your hands were ahold of his biceps, lightly squeezing them the more you craved some sort of touch from him.
he smiled at your shy obedience but gave in very easily, knowing those little noises you make are one of his biggest weaknesses. your wish was his command. his hands moved painfully slow down your body and up your night gown, giving each of your breasts attention with lingering squeezes. your thighs squeezed a bit against michael’s torso and he loved it. he loved seeing the effect he had on you. but you hated how much he teased with his slow movements.
finally, one of his hands traveled down your stomach and over your heat, his middle finger slipping in between your folds and circling it lazily. you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the mattress from the pleasure of having some sort of friction now. michael watched you in awe as his middle finger and ring finger swirled around your clit, a sweet moan slipping from your lips. you looked so beautiful unfolding from his touch, your breathing uneven and your legs unable to stay still.
your hips slightly elevated against his fingers, craving more when he moved his hand away from you. this snapped you back to reality as your gaze drifted back to his, chest rising up and down from your quickened heartbeat.
“i gotta taste you, sweetheart.” he said with a lick of his lips and began moving down, his face hovering over your clothed torso before meeting your lower abdomen. his hands carefully pulled your nightgown up towards above your hips, his gaze still fixed on yours. your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watched him, his hands slowly spreading your thighs apart once more before his face buried between them.
he gave your sensitive bud a few licks before sucking on it slowly. your fingers combed through his hair, moving a few pieces away from his face as harmonious yet filthy noises escaped your lips. his tongue swirled around it and paired it with a suck while his fingers rubbed your lubricated hole, teasing it a bit.
“fuck, baby,” you sucked in a breath from the magic of his mouth on your clit, bucking your hips slightly.
“mm, so needy just for me.” he mumbled against you before easily slipping his middle finger inside of you, the work of his tongue never stopping. you whined quietly as your gummy walls squeezed against his finger. this alone was enough to make michael get off, your sweet moans and how wet you were made him so weak.
he pumped it in and out at a steady pace before slipping in another, carefully stretching your hole to fit both his fingers. your head was turned the other direction, but michael didn’t like this. when he saw that you were looking away, he took his free hand and got a grip on your chin to turn you to face him. your hands grabbed at the freshly done—now ruined—bedsheets as your eyebrows knit together in pleasure. a low satisfied moan escaped his lips at the sight of your satisfaction.
his pace quickened as you got louder, he loved how much you didn’t care one bit if the neighbors heard you—unlike him.
he could feel you getting close the more you squeezed around his fingers and the more you started getting whinier. this caused him to carefully remove his fingers as a tiny cry slipped from your throat.
“why’d you stop?” your breath hitched as your eyes flickered back to him.
he sat up for a moment to undo his belt buckle and remove his button up, “i’m sorry, doll,” he planted a kiss on your lips, “i just need to be inside of you.” his voice oozed desperateness as he slipped off his undergarments. you hummed and wrapped your legs around him as he positioned himself at your entrance, the both of you watching as he slowly slipped inside of you.
a breathy “fuck.” came from michael’s mouth with a low groan as he pushed further inside of you. your shaky hands found his back, nails grabbing at his skin as he moved in and out, slowly at first, but picked his pace up shortly after.
his face hid in the crook of your neck as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the headboard knocking against the wall and both of your sweet moans filling the room.
you turned your head to face him and enveloped his lips with yours desperately, his nails now digging into the flesh of your hips as his hips continued driving into you, a much faster and deeper pace now.
“you’re taking me so well,” michael whimpered as your pussy sucked him in and in all the most addicting ways. the angelic noises that danced against your lips became higher pitched while his thrusts quickened even more—he was close and so were you.
your fingers moved to your clit which caught michael’s eye and nearly destroyed him.
“mm, yes,” he uttered as he pulled away from the kiss to watch you, “play with yourself- just like that-“ he pleaded while your fingers rubbed the bud back and forth. the immense pleasure took over you, a knot forming in your stomach while your legs locked around michael’s torso.
“im gonna cum, baby-“ you choked out between whimpers as he pounded you relentlessly.
“me too, angel.” he huffed as his dick twitched inside of you, the squelching sounds of your arousal mixed with his precum as he continued. “please- please cum for me honey.” he whined as his thrusts became more sloppy.
with a few more thrusts, you were sent over the edge with your walls clenching around his throbbing cock, the prettiest moans filling his ears. he drove one last thrust into you with a sweet cry before he released his seed inside of you.
your bodies stayed entangled together for a moment as the both of you caught your breath before you unwrapped your thighs from him. he couldn’t take his eyes off of your flustered state which caused you to cover your face.
“uht-uhh,” he giggled quietly and uncovered your face, “i want to see you.” he insinuated as he looked at you with such admiration. and you did the same, caressing his damp face, “you’re such a doo-doo head.” you joked with a small laugh.
“so are you.” he joked back, resting his head on your chest with the duvet covers now rested on top of the both of you. you placed a soft kiss to his forehead while dragging your nails up and down across his bare back, which helped him drift off to sleep. and not too long after, so did you.
after seeing michael with diana, you don't know how to react. so, you just ignore him
part 1 - pov: it will never be you
note; guys thank you so much for all the love!!! this is my first time writing fanfics in english, so please, don't expect an advanced vocabulary. and it will have a part 3!!!
something was going on with you; that's what michael thought.
he had realized this after last friday at studio 54.
the music was loud, everyone was either dancing or snorting the white powder. you were on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of the music. your curvy hips were grinding against that stranger, which wasn't unusual for you—dancing with the guys or the girls—while you waited for michael's arrival.
but something weird happened: you didn't dance with him that night. you gave him a short smile, acknowledging his presence, but you kept your distance. every time he would turn to you, or put his hand on your back, you would quickly find another person to dance with.
then he stayed in the corner and observed you, beautiful as an angel, sparkling on the dance floor. you didn't give him a single glance.
michael couldn't sleep; he kept thinking that was so unusual for you.
i mean, he met you when you were this cute girl who was the only person at motown his age. he wouldn't be lying if he ever told you that you were his first crush.
so as you guys grew up, things got harder for him. he would be with the jacksons while trying to produce his first solo album.
and you were always there.
he would invite you to his studio. you would sit close to him while eating strawberry ice cream, listening to him talk about how excited he was; he would show you his various lyrics.
you were always the first one who supported him. and you would give him that look—the one that would make his heart beat a little faster.
he didn't know if you were aware of it. he thinks you don't realize the effect you have on him. and that's awful.
for you, he's probably just your old friend.
he would ask you to sing this part—because he actually just wanted to hear your sweet voice. he would ask your opinion about it before quincy's; that's how close you are—or were. he doesn't know anymore.
he is so scared of his growing feelings for you. a childhood crush is one thing, but this is so much more intense than it was supposed to be.
you know him, the real him.
he wasn't michael jackson to you; he was just a guy from indiana.
he doesn't want to ruin this beautiful friendship.
what could be worse than unrequited love? he used to think that nothing could be worse than that.
but being ignored by you is worse than everything. he doesn't know if he can live without hearing your laugh every time he hums something silly; he doesn't know if he can pretend everything is fine.
he doesn't know if he can take his own torturing thoughts saying that you never liked him, not even a bit.
he's hurt.
the telephone rings at hayvenhurst.
michael immediately walks away from his bedroom, goes downstairs, and picks up the telephone.
thump. thump. thump. thump. thump.
his head is spinning with the adrenaline that runs through his veins. he's expecting it to be you, but at the same time, he doesn't even know what words he should say if it's really you.
"michael, it's me." a feminine voice that is not yours comes from the speaker.
he's disappointed that it's not you; instead, it's diana ross. he doesn't know when this thing started; at first, she was more like a mentor to him, an inspiration. she was a beautiful woman, but nothing more than that.
he wouldn't call that thing a relationship; it's definitely not serious between him and diana. they never had sex or shared a real kiss. he didn't think he liked her; it was more like a comfortable situation.
she flirted with him, and he would just let her. it's not like she didn't know about his feelings for you. the funny part about it is that everybody knew, except you. but it was so much easier for him to pretend that he liked the whole situation, and just be passive about it.
and because of that, michael takes a deep breath, and with a fake cheerful voice, he says:
"how are you doing, di?"
"great, just letting you know i'm coming to the club today."
"you are going to 54?"
"yes i am, and you are going too. see you, handsome."
before he could reply with an obviously negative answer, she ended the call. a strange feeling consumes him; he doesn't want to be there to see you dancing with another person. he doesn't know if he can take being ignored by you one more time.
but at the same time, you drive him crazy. it's impossible for him to be away from you. he needs to feel you; he misses your touch, your smell. then he decides. he is going to face you and ask what is wrong.
you are drunk. you don't even remember when you started dancing on the table, but the feeling was good; you could feel the rhythm of the loud music in your ears, and everything was spinning.
but you still couldn't stop thinking about him.
you haven't talked to michael for 2 weeks.
you thought it was the best option, to keep yourself away from this whole situation. you wanted to scream at him, argue with him, ask him why. then you chose the better option: you ignored him for your own well-being.
but even when you did that..... the disgusting scene you watched wouldn't leave your mind.
so you're just drinking. and dancing. with the hope you will not remember any of that.
then you see her. your dizzy mind wasn't capable of imagining them, so that's how you knew that you were really seeing michael and diana.
she was too close to him, letting out a loud laugh at something he had said. you could see her hand wrapped around his arm like glue. his chin was marked with her lipstick print.
and suddenly—when you see that, you don't know how to breathe anymore. a crushing pain invades your chest, and everything seems wrong.
it was supposed to be you. you and him. you and michael. he was supposed to be yours.
jealousy blinds you, your head hurts, and everything turns black. you don't realize when it happened, but the next thing you remember is falling off the table.
then, your ankle hurts like hell. people are so close to you; they are asking what happened, and you can't manage to answer, because right now he emerges out of nowhere, and he's so close to you.
you feel his doe eyes on you, checking if you are really okay. he doesn't say anything; he just pulls you into his arms, and that's when you can finally relax.
you don't know where he is taking you—he's walking fast, as if he is afraid of something happening to you, and you can feel his heart beating so fast against your chest.
you don't see diana at first, but she is there, too.
your whole mood goes down again. michael doesn't say anything for now, but diana is saying something. you can't hear it right. but you understand michael even when he's not saying a word, and then you realize he is uncomfortable.
"diana, can you leave us, please? michael will be taking me home"—you snapped the words with a rush. you didn't wait for her answer; you looked at michael, and he quietly nodded at you as he held you even tighter, walking at a fast pace.
you are in his car now; bill looks at you with a soft smile that warms your heart. you told him to drive you to your place. but michael ignores you and tells bill to take you to hayvenhurst.
🧶 𐙚⋆.˚ summary : Michael finally confesses feelings to reader, do they get together ??
🧶 𐙚⋆.˚ contains : fluffff like lots of it, time jump, kissing! Mentions of Diana ass…. Idk this chapter is so cute I’m gonna cry, mentions of sch**l… brattyish reader, (I ended up making her 17 in highschool!) black!coded reader, once again.
🧶 𐙚⋆.˚ a/n : I dunno the timelines for when he got all his pets, so let’s pretend in this timeline he has ALL of them already! “Think Happy” reference in there too js look hard..!
JUNE 6TH, 1974
(AT EXACTLY) ~12:00 P.M~
Your front door rang in the midst of you getting ready, of course Michael was here at 12:00 on the clock, so stupid and precise… you were also surprised he knocked on the front door, instead of your window. “Mommy! Can you get the door!” You yelled from your room, applying the rest on your body spray, before sliding on your socks.
Heels clicked from the kitchen, to the front door, smooth rnb running through the house from the random record she popped in while pre-preparing dinner. Your mother stopped at the front door, peeking through the peephole. She saw Michael standing there, picking at his fingers, with Jermaine on the side of him, a hand resting on the side of Michael’s shoulder.
The door swung open, the frame of your mother placed in between the ridge of the door. “…See, she’s here, you can go now.” Michael mumbled, looking down at his feet, but obviously talking to Jermaine. Jermaine chuckled, his gaze still on your mother.
“I didn’t know y/n had another big sister?” He chuckled, to which your mother blushed, waving a hand around. “Oh, stop it.. i’m her mother.”
“Whattt? I would’ve never guessed.”
“Is y/n here?!” Michael interfered, trying desperately to peer inside the house.
surprisingly, you stumbled down the stairs, sliding on your saddle shoes. You saw Michael’s big eyes peeking through your moms shoulder and couldn’t help but smile a little, though you quickly remembered what he was here for.
You tapped your mom shoulders, which automatically made her scoot out the way, as your eyes met with Michael’s, kinda… you had to crane your head up just a tad bit.
“…what.” You scoffed going to cross your arms.
You guess your sister heard you close your room door or something, because she came scrambling down, dressed up as well.
“I—I…” Michael started, picking at the skin of his fingers, it was a really bad habit he had, that you guys both made an attempt to fix for him, so you gently reached your hand out, going to lightly pull his fingers away, like you would usually do. “Don’t make me have to hold your hand.” You mumbled, hands going back in your own pocket.
“right… right.. uhm, do you… do you want to go visit my animals today?”
“why is Jermaine here..?” You interrupted, scrunching your face up at Jermaine, peeking behind Michael to get a better look at him.
“I—I-“ Michael started, before your sister Marlie pushed pass the two of you.
“Remember what I told you, Mikey!” She chuckled, before going to Jermaine, and wrapping her arm around his, her other hand resting against his forearm, as they walked off too her car.
Your eyes widened at this, heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, as Michael quickly craned his head to look behind him, a scoff leaving his lips.
“…let’s just… you wanna just go..?” He mumbled, holding his hand out, you hesitated, but obliged anyways, furious and all.
———
You guys arrived on his property, the first thing catching your eye was his pet giraffe, you smiled a little, before you quickly remembered who you were here with..
”…why am I here, Michael?” You groaned, quickly tugging his hand from your hold, turning your head to face him now.
“…just wanna show the animals!” He chuckled nervously, leading you to his flower-house.. it was beautiful, probably one of your favorite rooms on the entire property.
“…Then why are we going to the flower-house?” You groaned, dragging your feet across the pavement. Michael stayed silent, as he continued walking the path, now going to open the door. “You know what I want?! I want a apolo-“ You quickly ate your own words, as he opened the flower-house door, as you peered in. There it was, a basket of all your favorite things, and it wasn’t a small basket, it was a huge one… paired with a bouquet of flowers, your favorite ones, too be specific. And a poster, one that said “I’m so so so sorry” in colorful, bold letters (that look like a kindergartener wrote them..)
“..Marlie said to not get you a poster.. because it might be corny, but.. but I just didn’t know how you would understand what I’m trying to communicate without a poster..” He mumbled, walking to the basket, tossing the flowers in there as well, and picking it up, with slight struggle. He walked towards you, a nervous glare on his face as he looked towards the ground.
“…I just… im just so sorry.. you had every right to be mad at me, I was—.. I was being overbearing, and controlling.. and— and I know those are your biggest pet peeves.” He chuckled nervously, which earned a small laugh out of you as well. “…And.. and I guess I was just… I was really jealous, I kinda just.. I kinda just want you all too myself, and I realized that.. that isn’t really uhm… isn’t really practical, you’re gonna talk to other males besides me, and that’s okay.. just… I just—“
Michael quickly got cut off, as you brought him into a tight embrace, a soft “oof” leaving his lips as he softly let go of the basket, wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m sorry for.. I’m sorry for cursing at you, and not saying bye.. and leaving from your bedroom window and stepping on your curtains.”
“You left that shoe print?”
“-I said sorry..”
You whispered, your face pulling away now, getting a good look at him, arms untangling themselves from across his neck. “I… I also brought someone for you..” Michael smiled, reaching for the door of the flower-house. “Close your eyes!” He giggled, closing the door behind him..
Your hands went to cover your eyes, the door slightly creaking as it opened again, a quiet “shhh..” left his lips, as you heard feet walk in front of you. “…okay.. okay, (your nickname), open your eyes.” He smiled, holding his pet llama in front of you, a bold smile on his face.
Your eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the vibrant light of the flower-house once again. Then, your eyes landed on the furry llama infront of your eyes, a large smile grew on your lips, as you walked closer, your hands going to ruffle some of the fur.
“Aweeeee!” You smiled, a toothy grin plastered on your face, before you looked towards Michael again, pulling him in another tight hug. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Michael smiled a little, his hands placed politely on your waist, holding you a small distance, to be a gentleman, of course. “Yeah.. it’s no big deal… I just.. I didn’t want you to be mad at me..”
“ ‘m not mad at you, anymore.. so you can forget that..” you mumble, smiling, before quickly focusing back on the llama.
———
It’s been about 10 minutes since you’ve been playing with this llama, and a smile hasn’t left your face not once. The quiet ring of the music playing over the speakers slightly filled in the slight slot of quiet-awkwardness, or maybe it just fulfilled it even more, it was hard for Michael to tell, when his only focus was on you.
He had to tell you sometime soon, that was the plan, that’s how this was gonna go, but what if you rejected him? You said no, walked off with the gift basket, and you two never spoke again.. he almost teared up even thinking about it. His thinking was suddenly cut off when—
“…do’you think it likes me..?” You mumbled your hands slowly faltering to your head, scratching it a bit, as the other one went to rest on your hip.
smooth, cheesy catch line… here it goes,
“..I mean, yeah,, if I were a llama, I would like you.. not that I don’t already like you—“
”awee, i like you too, Michael. You’re my bestfrie—“
“No, not like that.. I uhm..”
Holy shit, it’s happening.
“I think— wait, no.. I don’t think, I know. I have like this really big crush on you and— and I think that’s why I was jealous when you and Jermaine— wait no I don’t think, I know I was jealous when you and Jermaine were talking and stuff and the kissing stuff, I really enjoyed the kissing stuff, and I like when we hug, and we hold hands and—“ he cut himself off, covering himself with his hands.
You let out this soft, sweet chuckle, letting out a soft “..hm? What?” Michael was almost 100% sure you heard what he just said right now, so when he peeked up to try and repeat yourself, he was a tad bit confused when your ear was inches away from the llama, like it was speaking too you.
“…you.. you want me to tell him? Okay.. okay, I will.” She smiled, pulling away from the llama a bit. “…I uhm, the llama wants to let you know that uhm.. that I like you too… like, really.. really like you.” You smiled back, your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels.
A grin quite literally exploded on his face, as he tipped over to the llama as well, pressing his ear close to the llama as well, mimicking you. “Hm…what? What was that? I should.. I should ask her to be my girlfriend?” He grinned, which that earned a soft chuckle out of your lips, your arms crossing together. “…mmh, okay..” he smiled, pulling back. “…The llama wanted to me to ask if… you wanted to be my girlfriend?” He mumbled, his face waiting for the most harsh rejection of his life.
You leaned over to the llama, putting your ear to its mouth, your smile slowly faltering, “…The llama.. the llama says no..” you frowned, and Michael swore he could’ve fell into a deep hole and get swallowed into the ground.
…
“But…”
She restarted again, her smile surfacing back on her face.
“but I… I say yes, 10000x yes!” You giggled, your arms going to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him into a sweet hug.
“Oh lord… you can’t just do that!” Michael giggled his hands reciprocating the hug, slightly rocking you from side to side.
“I know, I know… but it was sooo cute seeing you look like you were about to throw up.” You smiled, your face looking up from the crook of his neck. “…you’re really my best friend..” you sighed, a slight smile on your face.
Michael quickly shook his head no, giggling a bit. “…I’m not your bestfriend, I’m your boyfriend, silly.” He smiled, his hands still on your waist.
“…Well, well you’re both.”
“..I can take that.” He smiled, his gaze turning to something more serious, as his eyes fell down to your lips, a slight giggle fell apon his lips, as he leaned closer. “…Uhm.. so, about uhm,, about our practice…” He smiled nervously, you quickly caught on, nodding a tad bit.
“you wanna kiss?” You said, your head tilted to the side, your lips perching out a little. He quickly nodded a bit, going to bite his bottom lips as his eyebrows raised a little, this earned a quick giggle out of you, as you slowly started to lean in, your nose bumping just a tad bit, and your lips about to press together, but then—
“Did it work?— ouuu!!” Marlie poked her head from the doorway, and you quickly jumped, pushing Michael back.
Your face burned with embarrassment, as you fully turned to the door fully looking at her fully, a sneaky grin on her face, as she tapped her fingernails against the door frame.
“what are you doing here?!” You exclaimed, your hand rubbing against your face, Marlie chuckled looking back at Michael’s face, he leaned against the table, a small smile on his face. It was one of the first time where your two roles were reversed, he wasn’t nervous, and you were.. “..You knew about this?!” You squealed, turning back to look at Michael, who quickly raised his hands, a small giggle leaning his lips.
“…I was the one who gave him all the advice.” Marlie butted back in, walking fully in the
flower-house. “…I told you she wouldn’t like the poster!” Marlie sighed, a hand going to quickly cover her face before you interfered. “I did like the poster! I liked everything!” You smiled, walking back to Michael, wrapping a arm around his neck.
You gleamed happily, as Michael stood there kind of awkwardly, a soft sigh left your lips, as your other hand pointed to the floor, showing off your basket. “…look, isn’t it adorable.”
and from that point on, you and Michael became even more inseparable.
SEPTEMBER 2ND 1976
7:00 A.M.
It’s been two years since you’ve and Michael had officially been together, and it’s been going great. Michael’s career has been flourishing even more, having just celebrating his 18th birthday a few days back. Your gift was simple, just a small bracelet to keep on him, so while he’s out on tours, and performances, and you couldn’t be there, it’ll always be a small reminder of your presence.
Your career has also, as well been flourishing. You still did your pageants, but one day a modeling agency came to one of your shows and spotted you out, they noticed how you stood out from the others, and immediately gave you their card. You’ve been working with them for about a year now.
Though you had this big modeling gig going on, your life wasn’t all sunshine’s and paradise, you still had to tackle one huge thing still.
Highschool.
You groaned as your alarm clock rung in your ear, it was about your 3rd day of Senior year, and you swore you were already burnt out, ready to walk that stage and get your diploma.
You aimed to work as a full-time model after highschool, so college was optional in your case, though it was still a thought. Anyways, those are future thoughts, right now? You had to find a way out of your comfortable, warm bed, and out to your bathroom, to start getting ready for the day.
Luckily, it was a tad bit easier, when you had Michael crawling in your bedroom window, still in his own pajamas, tapping on your shoulder.
He had made a promise to himself he was gonna wake you up this whole week, because it was kind of his fault for making your sleep schedule so horrible. All those performances, and rehearsals, he only had freetime so late into the day, 10pm, 11pm, midnight, etc. And, almost all of that time was dedicated to you, of course he had his days where he had his peace, would go home, kick off his shoes and immediately hit the hay. But those other times? He would find himself sneaking into your room, laughing and giggling about random stuff with you, getting caught making-out by your older sister, and spending the night, just to stay in the comfort of you.
This was your summer schedule mostly, business from 8am- 10pm, hanging out 10pm- 7am, he would sneak back out, and the cycle would repeat all over again.
But now, school has started, summer was over, and it was now time to kick into the habit of being productive again, ugh.
Of course, Michael didn’t really go to school, well he did but he has a private tutor, so waking up all early in the morning wasn’t really required. He was doing this out of pure pleasure, and boredom.
“..nope, wait— no.. don’t pull the covers back up.” He sighed, going to cover his face with his palm as he tried to tug the blanket from your face, an obvious sign that you weren’t bugging anytime soon. “…Do you seriously wanna be late..? I mean how would that look on your uhm… like your uhm resume,” He quipped out, a large hand going back to rest on your shoulder, as he slightly shook you again.
“…five more minutes, come back later..” you mumbled under the covers, as yawned, pulling the blanket over your head, making a small little cocoon.
“Nope, cmon.. no—“ he started again, noticing that your body went back limp, symbolizing that you were most likely going back to sleep. “Cmon, if you wake up ill.. I’ll take you skating this weekend, everything on me, promise.” He bribed to you, as he tugged the blanket off you fully, wrapping the material in his long arms, now leaving the fabric in a burrito-like state. a small “aha!” left his lips.
“…Fine, ‘m getting up..” a soft grumble escaped from your lips, as you unballed yourself, sitting up slightly on your bed, hair all over the place, tank top and shorts all wrinkled, and pillows having stains of drool on them.
“Ohh…. How are you—… how are you gonna do your hair?” Michael whispered, reaching a hand out to touch it a little, to which you quickly slapped it away, an annoyed grumble leaving your lips as you threw your feet off your bed, letting them dangle a tad bit, before jumping off your cozy bed, letting your feet rub against the soft carpet.
“…you can leave now.”
“Don’t want too.”
“…I have to shower.”
“…I’ll just wait in the room.”
“I change in here..”
his face heated up in embarrassment, quickly finding a solution.
“I’ll close my eyes?”
“…lay fully on your stomach, face stuffed into the pillows, and we have a deal.” You giggled a little, going into the bathroom, that was connected to your room, as Michael sat there disheveled, his eyes wide. “..You— you want me too lay down right now or—?” He was cut off with a quick slam of your bathroom door.
———
You walked out the bathroom fully dressed, hair combed, sliding on your loafers as Michael sat there, watching cartoons on your television. “…You think you’re funny, getting to stay home and do whatever the hell?” You scoffed, a bit jealous as you slipped your backpack on your shoulders, grabbing some random essentials you were gonna need for the day, your house and car keys, a small body mist, and a few hair ties.
“…I’m not doing whatever the heck, I think I have rehearsal today.. and— and my tutor comes today as well.” He defended himself, looking up at you, from his state of sitting criss-cross on your bed.
“Rehearsal with Diana..” you mumbled to yourself, which he heard faintly, but chose to ignore it, not even knowing how to attack the situation of the kinda one-sided issue you had with her.
You swore that she flirted with Michael recently, recently meaning like two days ago, it didn’t matter, you were at one of his rehearsals, and here she comes, you didn’t mind her at first, until she glanced too hard at Michael, then a hand ran up his shoulder, then she laughed a little too hard at one of his unfunny jokes, then when you two kissed, she gave you this unwelcome death stare, all of this was new to you, and quite frankly weird due to her old age, and when you brought it up to Michael, he claimed he didn’t notice anything, said she was acting the same as the last other rehearsals… rehearsals where he was 17, a minor, and now he wasn’t. You had a faint idea of what was happening, but you chose to ignore that gut feeling.
“…you look pretty.” He smiled, you rolled your eyes, you weren’t in the mood for flattery.
You knew it wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t help but be a tad bit jealous of his lifestyle. Yes, you were wealthy, not extremely wealthy, but wealthy enough to where you went to a private school, lived in a big house, got your own car at 16, etc.. but he? He was wealthy-wealthy, like private tutoring and paparazzi everywhere wealthy, you knew it could be a bit overbearing at times, and to be grateful for your mediocre, non-famous lifestyle, but you couldn’t help but wonder how living like that felt.
“You should get out of here soon, I’m bout’ to head out.. anyways.” You painfully smiled, your back facing towards him, grabbing some textbooks and student council papers that were needed later in the day.
“…You’re right, I’ll be in here when you get back, okay? So leave the window open before you leave..” He grunted as he got up, quietly walking behind you as you got all your school essentials ready.
“…ahem.” He interrupted your thought process, as he poked at your shoulder, signaling for you too turn around. You spun around on your heels, met with the sight of Michaels nose, before tilting your head up slightly to meet his eyes, and too of course get a whole look of his face. He had this boyish smile on his face, as his arms were wide open, reciprocating he wanted a hug.
“…seriously? How about I just give you one when I get back home.” You sighed, already not in the greatest mood due to you having to go to school.
“… wow, mama.. you don’t wanna give me a hug?” He sarcastically sighed a playful whine started to leave his lips, before you quickly shut it up, wrapping a quick arm around his side, and pulling away just as fast.
“…that was so measly..” He chuckled, moving his hands to properly wrap them around your waist, rocking you side to side a tad bit. “Love you, love you, love youuuu… you just gotta think happy is all… ooh.. mama, like the song… think happyyy, happyyy, happyyy,” he sung out, his cheek resting on the top of your head, pressing a small kiss to it. Though you were heavily annoyed at the fact he was singing his own song in your face, then he was singing it directly in your ear, you hugged him back of course, you weren’t that mean, that didn’t mean you didnt had an attitude filled expression bled into your face though, wrapping your arms lazily around his neck.
“Can you smile for me, please? You look really pretty when you smile, not like you’re not already pretty—… just, try to smile today, okay?” He smiled himself, his hands sliding up from your waist, to hold your cheeks, squishing them together playfully to make you make funny faces, then he just held him in his hands.
“..Kiss?” He suggested, to which you quickly shook your head no, your face still a bit dis morphed from the fact he was squishing your cheeks,
“Ugh, I don’t care about your stinkin attitude.” He chuckled, pressing three light feather kisses to your lips, that you quickly reciprocated, even though you “didn’t want them.” He let go of your face, shaking your shoulders a bit, before his hands quickly fell down to his sides.
“Please try and have a good day today, okay?” He chuckled, but a sense of seriousness washed over him as he looked at you, you nodded your head, and he started nodding his with you.
Over the years, Michael noticed your habits of having an attitude, and being moody, and always tried his best tmellow it down, and keep you down to earth. This was a prime example.
“…okay, I’m out of here, mama.. bye!” He smiled, as you stayed non-verbal, leaning a little closer, where you two met halfway, pressing a lingering kiss to each others lips, and slowly pulling away, as Michael left through your window, and you left through your bedroom door,
Hiii so im listening to in the closet and had a bright idea what if its michael obviously and he couldn’t find another girl so he begs his childhood best friend (reader obviously) to do the girl parts and at the “if it’s aching you have to rub it” it turns him on???? Perhaps pls see my vision
ִֶָ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚ in the closet rec. | michael jackson ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚
imagine !m.jackson x childhoodbestfriend!reader during the recording of "in the closet."
michael had spent days trying to find someone to record the female vocals, but nothing sounded right to him. every singer who came in and recorded the vocals was good, but none of them matched the voice he heard in his head and what he was trying to express. michael would listen back, sit quietly and stare off into the distance, and then ask for another recording take. with the deadline approaching to finish the song and studio time running out, his frustration was starting to show; he was completely over it.
that is how you ended up getting a phone call in the middle of the night from michael.
"please sweetheart, i need you” he would plead on the phone. you already know, he opened those big dough eyes and was pleading at you through the phone to do it.
"michael i can’t, im not a singer"
"come on angel… just one session. if it's terrible ill never ask you again."
you agreed, only because michael was your childhood best friend, and you knew that recording and making songs was literally his passion, and you wanted to help him.
the second you walked into the studio, michael was there, sitting down and looking at the notebook that was one the desk, he looked up and smiled his iconic smile, the ones that would make your panties drop. he looked relieved.
"there’s my angel. finally, you’re here" he teased. he motioned for you over with two fingers and you walked over to him. he grabbed you by your belt, hoops, and then wrapped a firm arm around your waist, making you sit down on his lap.
"don’t start."
"you just saved my life. how can i ever repay you?” he stared in you’re eyes. you then looked away briefly since eye contact with michael gets you really nervous.
you rolled your eyes, but his grin made it hard to stay annoyed at him. you moved away from him, and his hand that was resting on your waist grazed the plump of your ass. you blushed and moved to the recording booth.
what was supposed to be a quick session stretched through most of the day. michael was sitting behind the mixing desk with a notebook full of ideas, stopping every few minutes to adjust how you were singing.
"a little softer there."
"okay, now more sensuality for that lyric."
half the time during the recording, the two of you were laughing more than working. at one point, the recording stopped entirely because michael couldn't get through his instructions during the “if it’s aching you have to rub it” part of the song. michael kept on asking you to redo that part specifically. when you would redo the part and add sensuality to it, he kept on getting turned on by how you were singing a lyric, and he had to “go to the bathroom”.
"that's it." he sprang up from the desk, walking over to you in the booth.
"really?" you said, a blush forming over your cheeks, watching michael stride over to you with a grin on his face.
"this was exactly what i heard in my head."
he immediately grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his chest, moving both of his hands to your ass. you wrapped your arms around his neck and just leaned into him. for a moment, neither of you spoke.
you had known each other your whole lives. before the records, the tours, all of it, so watching him get excited over something you had helped create felt different somehow.
for the rest of the session, he kept finding reasons to keep you around. every time you started packing up, he'd remember another section he wanted your opinion on, another playback you had to hear, or another story he hadn't finished.
soon enough, it was 2 am and it was just you and michael left in the studio. he invited you over that night, and you quickly agreed. let’s say both you and him spent a ton of time together and no sleep happened.
i hope you enjoyed ^-^ it took me a bit to write since i couldn’t form a thought LOL
synopsis: he came back different. (part 1). (part 2).
heyyyyy y'all, here's another part, I might make a series? (I will 🥴.)
— ᨳଓ
You lay there against Michael thinking. What just happened between you two? A sudden sex rush? Or were those feelings already there? Probably. Maybe that explained why you'd missed him so much. Why seeing him again felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Why his smile always managed to get one out of you. Yeah.
They were probably already there.
You sat quietly with the thought, your breaths slow and even. The more you thought about it, the more certain you became that this hadn't started last night. Maybe you'd just finally stopped pretending not to notice it.
“What you thinkin’ about?” Michael asked softly near your ear. His hand rested lightly on your side, thumb brushing absentmindedly at your hip. You paused for a second before lifting your head to look at him. Seeing him this close again still didn’t feel real sometimes. A small smile slipped onto your face without you even trying.
“Nothing, just, I can’t believe your back. I missed you alot," you say quietly.
“Missed you too,” Michael smiled down at you. “There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think about comin’ to see you.”
“Oh, just seein’ me, huh?” you teased. “That all?”
Michael looked away for a second, a small smile tugging at his mouth like he realized too late how that sounded. “Don’t start,” he muttered, trying to brush it off.
“Don’t act shy now,” You say sitting up from his chest. You lean into him, kissing the side of his face softly. “How was the University though?” you asked him
“Wasn’t too bad,” he replied easily. “Most the time I was in the studio, singing a few songs. Professor tried to keep one of my compositions.” Michael looked at you, “Told him no.” You chuckled as Michael rolled his eyes, annoyed.
“Campus food was terrible, glad I don’t really eat like that anymore” he said lightly smiling to himself.
“Did you take any meals to your dorm or you just stuck it out til later?” You asked.
“I’m a gentleman, I went to the blood bank,” Michael scoffed at you like it should’ve been obvious. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “What, you think I’m out here actin’ crazy or somethin’?” he asked, giving you a look.
“No I think becoming a vampire is a little new don’t you think,” you say lightly nudging him. “The transitioning, the whole blood drinker…can’t enjoy normal food. Can’t walk in the sun either”
“Yeah, but it ain’t too bad,” he said like it was nothing, shrugging a little. “I’ll go out for a bit, just chill under a tree most of the time. I’m hopin’ I’ll get a ring soon though, makes things easier.”
Your brows arch, “A ring? Like a daylight ring?”
“Smart girl,” he said lightly, giving your side a quick pat like you’d just figured out something obvious. Looks like watching Gothic films paid off.
“Where you gonna get one?” you asked him.
“The question is when I'll get one. They're a little strict” he chuckled. He lightly pulls you closer to him.
“It wasn’t weird of you asking for blood bags?” you asked a little confused.
“Not really, if you know who works there,” he said, a slight grin tugging at his mouth.
You blinked. “Vampires?” you asked, a little shocked.
He nods. “They could tell I was new to this, one came up to me. Tall guy.” he said, leaning back a little like he was remembering it. “There were a few of them around campus, mostly older vampires, just watchin’ things.”
He glanced at you. “Helped me figure out how to… not mess things up,” he added lightly. “How to move around without drawin’ attention. Where to go, what to avoid. Can’t risk messing anything up.”
“Yeah,” you said, playing with the edge of the blanket. “I wouldn’t want anything happening to you. I just got you back.” You said it a little quiet.
You had missed Michael more than you realized. He'd always been the person you could go to when a day went wrong, the one who somehow made everything feel a little lighter just by being around. No matter what was going on, being with him felt easy. Comfortable. You could talk for hours, laugh about nothing, or just sit together in silence. You loved spending time with him, and having him back felt like getting a piece of your life back too
Michael smiled when he saw the look on your face. “Look at you gettin' all soft on me,” he teased, nudging your shoulder lightly.
You immediately rolled your eyes. “Don't start.”
“Oh, I'm gonna start,” he said with a laugh. “You over here actin' like I'm disappearin' tomorrow.”
You shot him a look, glaring lightly.
Michael just smiled, a little softer this time. “I ain't goin' nowhere,” he said. “You're stuck with me, pretty girl.”
There goes those two words he’d always call you, pretty girl. Your heart still speeds up at those words. He noticed. Michael nudged your knee lightly with his own before reaching for his Mickey jacket. He pulled out one cassette tape, he turned it over in his hands for a moment, studying the cover like he was deciding whether or not to say something.
“You know,” he said finally, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I kept hearin' songs I knew you'd like at the university.” He glanced down at the tape again before holding it out toward you. “That's why I brought some back.”
A quiet laugh slipped from him. “Every time somethin' good came on, I'd think, y/n would probably steal this from me.” He handed you the tape, still smiling to himself.
“Figured I might as well save you the trouble.”
You gently took the tape from him, turning it over in your hands. Your eyes immediately landed on the cover. DeBarge. A smile spread across your face before you could stop it. Of course he'd remembered. Another one of your favorite groups.
You ran your thumb along the edge of the cassette, shaking your head a little. "Thank you, Michael,” you said, looking back up at him.
“Mm-hm,” Michael said, watching you look at the tape. “I got a couple more back at the house, I was gonna go pick ‘em up,” he said. “You can come with me if you want.”
“Course I do,” you say a little fast, smiling. You eyes then trail to the curtains, just a peak of sun came through the room. “You think today gonna be sunny?” you asked Michael a little concerned.
Michael turned toward the curtains, following your gaze. A small sliver of sunlight had managed to sneak through the gap. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I should probably beat it before it gets too bad out. Don't have my ring yet.”
He pushed himself up from the bed slowly, brushing his hands against his jeans as he stood. You found yourself watching him without really meaning to. He stretched lightly as he stood, working the stiffness from his shoulders after sitting around for so long. Then he reached for his jacket, tossing it on without much thought.
“You want your shirt back?” you asked him, smiling lightly.
Michael turned at the sound of your voice, a smile already forming before he even answered. His eyes flicked toward the shirt, drawing out the shape of your form, then back to you.
“Hm, no, keep it,” Michael said with a shrug. “You steal my stuff anyway.” Before you could argue, he stepped back over and lightly cupped your face in one hand, giving your face a small squish. He then leans down, giving you a slow kiss. You kiss back, smacking lips slow, your eyes lightly closing.
“I like you wearin’ my stuff” he hums against your lips. He then separates from your lips, smiling. In which you respond by licking your lips.
“I’ll come pick you up in a few, then we can go. Then I'll get us some food,” he says.
“Pancakes?” you asked him.
“Anything you want,” he chuckles. He slipped on his shoes, tying the laces. Then he walked over to the window, gently parting the curtains to check outside. The light had grown stronger, but it wasn’t full daylight yet.
“I’ll go through here.” He nodded toward the window.
“Back door?” you suggested.
Michael let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he finished adjusting his shoes. “If you don’t mind your family seeing me half naked with you,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then he glanced at you, still smiling a little.
“C’mere” he tells you grinning. You almost instantly get up from the bed and start kissing him, again. Your arms slid up to wrap around his neck, crossing over.
“Give me maybe an hour or two?” he asked you between breaths.
“An hour? That’s so long,” you said, immediately looking at him like he was crazy.
He let out a quiet chuckle. “It’ll go by fast. I gotta take my stuff out the boxes anyway.”
“Alright,” you hummed, rolling your eyes, but the smile gave you away a second later.
Michael noticed, of course. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, already heading toward the window. “You’ll be fine.”
Michael pushed the window open and swung himself out like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Your heart immediately dropped. “Michael-”
He looked up at the sound of your voice. “What?”
You then calmed down, seeing Michael was just fine, “You're crazy.”
Michael blinked at you for a second before a laugh escaped him.
He started backing away from the house, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “You worry too much.”
“And you don't worry enough.”
“See?” he said, pointing at you. “That's why I need you.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile slipped through anyway. “Just hurry up and come back,” you told him, leaning against the window frame.
“I will,” he said. “One hour or two”
“Just one,” you warned. “You better.”
“Or what?”
You opened your mouth, realized you had absolutely no answer, and narrowed your eyes instead.
Michael looked entirely too pleased with himself. “That's what I thought.”
“Oh, shut up,” you reply playfully.
Still smiling, he gave a small wave and headed off down the street, leaving you standing at the window long after he'd disappeared from view.
You smiled to yourself as you watched him head off, shaking your head a little like you still couldn’t believe the night had gone the way it did. Once he was gone, you pushed the window and gently shut it. You then draw the curtains back into place. You stood there for a second, then turned back into the space, finally noticing the small mess from last night. Blankets slightly out of place, things shifted around like the room had actually been lived in instead of just sat in. You were still on a high in your mind, you couldn’t stop smiling. You stretch lightly, raising your arms up before doing a bit of cleaning. You changed into a pair of shorts, something comfortable, just enough to get a bit of laundry done and move around easier. Plus, you couldn’t just walk around your house your draws on.
You walked out of your room with a small laundry basket, heading downstairs toward the washing room.
As you passed the kitchen, you caught your sister already at the table, eating toast with jelly, watching you a little too closely.
“Morning, sis,” she said around a slow chew, eyes still on you like she was studying something.
“Morning, nosey,” you replied with a small laugh as you walked by. “Mom and Dad up yet?” You made your way into the laundry room, dropping the clothes into the machine as you spoke.
“Ion know” she says leaning against the door still eating slow.
You closed the machine and straightened up, looking over at her. “What are you eating so slow for?” you asked, folding your arms a little.
She just kept chewing, eyes locked on you. “You gon’ tell me?” she asked after a beat.
“Tell you what?” you said, already knowing where this was going but trying to act clueless anyway.
“How it was, girl—don’t play dumb,” she said, making a face like you weren’t fooling anybody. “I knew it was gon’ happen eventually.”
You froze for half a second, then let out a short laugh, shaking your head like that would erase what she just said. “First of all,” you said, pointing at her through the doorway, “nothing happened.”
“Is that why I heard you crying his name?”
“Oh my gosh this why yo nickname is nosey, nosey” you say slightly annoyed. You grab your basket, “You better not say anything to Mom and Dad I swear”
“Now you know I don’t do all that,” she said, chewing slowly. “I just wanna know because you were definitely up late.” She gave a little smirk. “And my room is right next to yours,” she chuckled, trying to hold in a laugh. “Like give a warning so I can have excuse to leave the house”
“Oh shut up, I wasn’t that loud,” you then pause. “I was loud?” you whispered to her.
“Not that loud, but loud enough. Like I said, right next door” she chuckles.
You roll your eyes but a light smile comes creeping up, “You ain’t hear shit alright?” you say pointing at her. She puts her hands up in surrender still leaning against the door.
“He was good. Like really…really good. Like, you wouldn't think it when you see that smile of his, all cute and innocent and stuff, but he's—” You stopped.
Your sister was staring at you with the widest grin on her face. “Oh, you got it bad.”
“Okay thats enough for you,” you say walking out the room.
“No wait tell me more!” she says walking after you. “You put it on him?” she asks whispering.
“Just nosey,” you tell her again. “But no,” you added after a beat, a small smile creeping onto your face, “he actually put it on me.”
@cherrishkissed
author's note, this is just a filler chapter, it's been sitting in the drafts 🥴.
a/n: y’all wanted a mess involving diana ross so here y’all go (combination of a few different requests) — the moan request is next 🚬
michael jackson x girlfriend! reader
after finding a shrine room in michael’s house dedicated to diana ross, your next stop was 7/11 to buy a few gallons of gasoline and a new lighter
t/w: reader has a taste for arson, fuck diana ross, michael should get slapped, angst? fluff but not really, reader is pissed off, reader can fight (but i suck at writing it), toxic but can we really blame you? michael groveling, nsfw if you squint
⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
Michael’s house was a maze.
Despite the large handful of times you had been there since the two of you started dating, you still got lost sometimes. Halls winding into a labyrinth of polished wood, decorative paintings, and each door started to look the same.
Your fingers landed on another handle. There was nothing special about it. Polished brass. Stained wood. Ordinary.
You tested the handle. Unlocked.
The door opened, silent on its hinges. Your footsteps were muted on the carpet and your eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room, a warm glow flickering from an array of candles that were lit.
You blinked, standing in the doorway with your fingers still wrapped around the handle and perfectly still.
“What the fuck?”
You blinked again. Hoping that by some strange ripple in reality, that you had to be dreaming. Hallucinating. Lost your mind.
Pictures of Diana Ross were everywhere. Barely a millimeter of the wall could be seen between each frame.
And for fuck’s sake, the candles.
They covered tables and littered the floor, all lit with wax pooling over old and used sticks bent in charred shapes.
A laugh left you, short and sharp. Completely riddled speechless by what you were seeing because this just had to be a fucking joke.
You took a single step forward, still holding onto the door like it was a lifeline to your sanity.
There were letters strewn across some of the tables. Dates varying back a few years up to right before you two started dating.
Letters from her.
You were pretty sure you started to feel your heart rotting in your chest. The soiled artery beginning to infect the surrounding area, bleeding out and ruining everything and sinking right through you and to the floor.
Another blink as you read one of the signatures at the bottom of a letter.
Your dearest, Diana and the lipstick mark next to it.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you muttered.
⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
“Baby, just wait a second.” Michael threw a hand out, catching the car door before you could slam it shut.
“I don’t wanna talk to you or look at you right now.” You tugged on the door but it didn’t budge. Your eyes flicked up to his face but Christ, everything was blurry.
“It’s not what—“
“It’s not what it looks like? Really? Then what the fuck does it look like, Michael. Enlighten me.”
He winced at your tone even though you tried your best not to raise your voice.
“I…” he looked away from you, jaw rolling. “Listen, she’s been a dear friend of mine—“
“Oh my god.” You yanked on the door harder, not caring if you squashed his fingers in the process.
“I’ve been meaning to take all that down, I promise. I just haven’t had the time.” He rushed, fingers slipping from their hold and the door finally shut.
Your foot pressed on the gas, ignoring him as he yelled out your name.
⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
You were fucking seething.
The last few days had been hell. And Michael calling you every other hour made it just a bit worse. You wanted to pick up the phone and yell at him. Wanted to pick up and hear him out.
And then you’d shut your eyes and all of the sudden you were back in that God forsaken room.
Then the flowers started to show up on your doorstep and at work.
Your favorite kind in your favorite color with an apology scribbled on the note.
You crumbled up each one and threw it away.
The gifts piled in afterwards. Books you’d been wanting, all either first editions or signed. Designer bags. Heels. The Burberry coat you’d been eyeing every time you went shopping.
You weren’t stubborn enough to toss all of that away. Telling yourself it would’ve been a waste.
He had even sent Bill. Something that would’ve made you laugh but then you’d remind yourself Michael should be the one crawling to your doorstep, so you’d send Bill away with some strong words he likely wouldn’t repeat.
A tv show was playing and your eyes watched dully, not quite paying attention and the laugh track swirled into mindless white noise. Your thoughts all over the place and scattered into a million pieces.
Albeit, you and Michael hadn't been dating for long. Technically. Seeing each other on and off for a while before officially deciding to slap a label on it three months ago.
Three months for him to get rid of that fucking room.
Three months to at least say something.
Then an idea festered. Burying its claws deep into your prefrontal cortex. Shredding whatever character development you’d garnered over the years because it was incredibly fucking tempting.
You wanted to burn it. All of it. Every photo and letter because fuck her and fuck him for hiding it from you.
With a click of your tongue you stood up and grabbed your purse and car keys.
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The cashier looked between the many empty red gas canisters, a cheetah print lighter, and you.
Many times.
“I’d like to fill these up at pump seven,” you smiled at him. Polite as ever and feeling blissfully calm.
“And you also want the lighter?”
“Yup.” You popped the p.
Again, you really did feel wonderfully calm.
He shook his head, deciding to put any questions he had on the back burner. “Alright.”
“Can I also get a pack of reds, a twelve pack of Budweiser… oh and these trash bags”
“Sure.”
You smiled again and swiped Michael’s credit card.
⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
Humming as the sound of wood ripped, you threw another frame into the trash bag. Not caring at all as the paint ripped on the wall, nails being bent into jagged shapes and oh how unfortunate, some shattered glass.
It was relatively late and you knew Michael’s schedule. One he didn’t often veer off of, even during a relationship crisis.
Or maybe it was just a crisis to you. And Michael didn’t think it was a big deal so he continued on, business as usual, away in his studio and working.
You ripped another frame off the wall.
You were in and out of there for around two hours. Not another soul to be seen as you dragged trash bags out into the back yard. Not satisfied until all that was left in that room was the scraping of old melted candle wax leaving a faint outline on the carpet.
Everything had been thrown into a pile. Broken wood, jagged glass, ripped photos, and the annoying amount of letters that you ripped as you tossed them around.
You didn’t see a single person as you carried the canisters of gas two at a time from your car. Not a concerned glance as you started to unscrew the caps and walk around the pile in mindless circles, dumping the gasoline until everything was absolutely soaked and your nose and eyes burned from the smell.
You then came to a stop, sighing as you stared at all of it. A deformed and wet slop of memorabilia of a woman you really couldn’t fucking stand.
Your dearest, Diana.
Pulling out the pack of reds, you placed one between your teeth and your thumb struck the sparkwheel of the lighter, a sharp sound meeting your ears and a warm glow gently touching your face as the tobacco started to burn and nicotine coated your mind.
Then you tossed the cheetah print lighter onto the pile and up up up the flames went.
The burst of light so bright it made you squint and the heat hit your face like a shockwave.
Watching in delight as that woman’s face got contorted and charred and the letters curled in on themselves and fell into glowing ash.
You weren't sure how much time had passed but your cigarette was almost to the butt when you started to hear footsteps and shouting muffled behind the crack of flames.
Someone had you by the shoulders, yanking you back all of the sudden and you blinked as Michael came into view. His expression panicked and confused as his eyes flicked over you to make sure you were alright.
How sweet of him.
His hand cupped your cheek, brows furrowed as his eyes then flicked down to all the canisters and you watched in amusement as each puzzle piece fell. You could practically see where they landed for him, all coming together in one dazzling picture of fire.
Then his eyes landed on the Budweiser.
“Since when do you drink beer?”
You laughed. Loudly and deep and yanked right from your diaphragm because of course that’s what he decided to ask you about.
Then you slapped him.
Once.
Sharp and precise, his head snapping to the side and his jaw rolling as his cheek twinged red.
“You’re lucky I didn’t burn your fucking house down.”
You tossed the butt of your cigarette to the ground, twisting it beneath the toe of your stilettos you decided to wear. His favorite pair, because fuck him.
“Let’s get dinner. Maybe have Bill call the fire department, though.”
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He had been on his best behavior since then.
It’s not like Michael had to try. Despite that little hiccup, he was a wonderful boyfriend and lover. Always doting and attentive. Buying you whatever you wanted and never able to take his hands off of you.
Burying your face in his mattress as he made you come at least twice before he did.
You were at an after party, the hour late off the tail end of an award show. The taste of tequila still on your tongue as you walked back from the bathroom, fingers messing with your M necklace Michael had given you, matching the bracelet he wore that had your own initial on it.
His idea, of course.
He was trying, really he was. You could give him a little grace for that. He wanted you to know you were his and he was yours. Nothing else and nobody else mattered.
But then you heard voices. Two. Familiar and low and your heels came to a sharp stop after you rounded the corner.
There she was.
Diana Ross leaning in and talking with a lilt, “it’s been so long, Michael.”
You blinked as you watched her rest a manicured hand on his shoulder.
He laughed, though it was more of a strained exhale. “I got a girl now, I can’t—“
“Michael, honey it’s me.”
“I knew you were old, but I didn’t know it was starting to affect your hearing.”
They both froze. Michael’s eyes drifting past Diana and landing on you. Not looking shocked, per se. In fact, now this could be the alcohol talking, but he looked relieved at the interruption.
Diana turned around, brow raised and her eyes flicked up and down. Sizing you up and a breathless laugh left her. “Excuse me?”
“I know I didn’t mumble.” You stared at her, arms crossed and wishing the earth would open up beneath her.
“Young lady, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to—“
You didn’t mean to.
Or maybe you did. Who’s to say?
You’d grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back before slamming it against the wall.
“What part of I have a girl did you not understand? And this ‘young lady’ is the same age as that ‘young’ man, so why don’t you start sending letters to men your own age or maybe your own fucking husband.”
You faintly heard Michael say your name, but it was drowned out the moment Diana called you a bitch.
⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
You sat on the curb, cigarette held between cut up knuckles and you blew a strand of hair out of your face. Watching silently as Michael sat down next to you as you waited for Bill to pull the car around.
He tapped a rhythm into his thighs as you took an inhale of tobacco, the plumes of smoke taking up the silent space.
“You know,” he started, eyes still focused in front of him but he leaned towards you. “You got a mean left hook.”
You couldn’t help it as you smiled. “I had a good teacher.”
Michael’s eyes finally met yours, the skin crinkling around them as he grinned. A knowing glance being passed between you two like a treasure. “I’m sure you did.”
The night wasn’t wasted even though you’d been asked to leave early by security, something Michael found hilarious the more he thought about it. Laughing nearly all the way home.
It wasn’t wasted at all as he laid you down in his bed, pushing your dress up and around your waist, painting a picture only he could see with his head between your thighs and I love you on his lips.
a/n:
i tried and failed to write a fight scene but i’ll work on it for future reference sorry 😭 hopefully this turned out okay but i feel like it fell flat— the request where michael moans diana’s name will hopefully be out soon (gonna need to buy a bottle of wine to write that)
How each Michael Jackson era would react to you undressing in front of them for the first time.
Off The Wall! Michael would get visibly flustered and look away immediately while hiding his face with both of his hands, so you don’t realize that his face is completely flushed. When you finally noticed him burying his face you gradually melted. “Mike, you don’t have to hide your face y’know? C’mon baby look at me.” After saying that you walked towards him to take his hands off his face, but that boy did not budge one bit. He stayed his ground. “Hun I’m not looking at you until you change.” Whilst still tightly concealing his face.
Thriller! Michael would walk to the direction of the door with his eyes shut tight. The moment that he finds the door, he leaves the room swiftly while closing the door silently. So that you don’t become aware that he left the room to give you the privacy you need. As soon as you discovered that he left the room, you went out of your way by slightly opening the door whilst shouting his name. “MICHAEL!! get over here this instant.”
Bad! Michael would still be respectful by turning around to not face you, but glance back once awhile. When you realized that he was taking little glimpses at you. You couldn’t think of a better way to get revenge than to throw your clothes at him. “Stop peeking at me you perv.” This unexpected action made him startled. “Pftttt, me? Glancing at you? How could you accuse me of such a thing, baby. I would never do that, especially not without your permission.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his sarcasm.
Dangerous! Michael would look at you briefly before slightly fake cough then look elsewhere, while awkwardly whistling to distract him. That didn’t work whatsoever though no matter how hard he tried not to look at you. He was unable to refrain himself from doing so. When you caught him staring at you from head to toe, you tried to hide your privates as quickly as possible but it was very much too late for that. You were way too embarrassed to say a word so you just kept silent waiting for him to say anything, but nothing came out of his mouth. You were both just staring at each other to the point where it looked like you both were having an staring contest.
History! Michael would look at you with his eyes popping out, like if they were going to fall out at any given time and his mouth wide open. “Don’t act like you ain’t never seen me naked before, Mike.” Crossing your arms as you looked at him. Patiently waiting for an answer. “I know, lovey it was just unexpected y’know.” Shrugging as he continued, to stare at you like a portrait seen in a museum.
Invisible! Michael would scan you up and down like never before as he sat comfortably on the bed to enjoy the view while it lasted. He stayed extremely quiet causing you to turn around to see that he was already looking right at you. “Knew you were up to something because you’re never this quiet.” This caused him to smile widely as he hid his face from your view. “You caught me there, but looking isn’t a crime.”
This is it! Michael would lick his lips while looking straight at you intensely. He couldn’t bear to look away, already being way too drawn by you. Once you finally noticed his extreme leering. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye because you knew that the minute you make eye contact with him is the moment you become weak in the knees to the point where you’ll probably forget how to walk, breathe, and speak all at the same time. He knew that, but that didn’t stop him from staring at you anyway since he wanted to see you in that state right at that moment.
maybe manipulative bsf! michael would have a little bit of a breeding kink but also on the way of like us being completely his ….
why do i have literal freaky shakespeares in my inbox... (18+ mdni, this is lowkey disgusting?)
coldness dawns on your skin. michael has moved into his new house. he’s completely on his own now, without his siblings, and you’re the first person to visit his new place.
there’s no furniture yet, only a lone mattress on the cold floor, and a couple of cardboard boxes scattered around. no television. no radio. no nothing, to keep you occupied.
only you and him. alone. you keep shivering, no warmth around to caress your skin. “you cold, sugar?” michael asks you, thumb rubbing over your cheek. you nod back, a small pout gracing your lips.
“i know somethin’ that could warm y’up.”
twenty minutes and two mind-numbing orgasms later, you’re completely naked under michael, your small hole trying to shelter michael’s thick cock as he slides in and out of you.
you’re so fucking stuffed. the tip of his dick prods deliciously against your cervix, and you swear you see the gates of heaven open right in front of your eyes when you feel his slimey member scrape along your gummy walls.
sweat is pooling on the edge of your eyebrow. and best believe, you’re not cold anymore.
“taking me s’fuckin’ well, baby,” michael sighs, hips rolling into yours.
you interrupt him with a dreamy sigh as his tip pushes against your cervix again. “ah, michael—” your manicured fingers disappear in his hair. “the neighbours, they—”
“—will know you’re mine, baby,” he shushes you, ever so sweetly. “you’re so fucking stuffed, look at that.”
michael’s eyes flick down to where the sacred vision of his cock bulges through your soft skin everytime he bottoms out. “wanna make y’mine, yeah? friends for so long,”
your wet eyes zero in on his lips, not processing his words, only the pleasure. “gotta strengthen the bond, baby.”
“yeah— yeah, oh my god mikey,” you nod enthusiastically, leg cramping as michael hoists your leg up higher, giving him deeper access. “friends f’so long. since we were little.”
“wanna see you as a mama. so bad,” michael speaks, jackhammering into you now. “y’gonna raise my children. be a beautiful mommy. gon’ give’y the fuckin’ world.”
the moans you release are way too loud, you know that too. but a part of you loves the picture michael is painting: you and him forever, a picture perfect family. beautiful children. millions of animals. a ginormous garden.
“wanna tie y’down. y’belong to me. our house now, yeah, sweet girl?”
your ankles cross behind michael’s back, silently agreeing with him. keeping him trapped inside of you. “yes— please, mikey.”
“gonna give y’everything, baby,” your best friend explains, gradually getting delirious, your walls hugging his length perfectly. “fuckin’ loads, gonna breed that pussy full. not gonna pull out,”
his hips slam into yours one more time, and then you feel the warm liquid slosh inside of you. it fills you up like a balloon, like a little packet being injected with his cum. for you to carry.
it sloshes inside of you as michael keeps thrusting in you, hips stuttering as he shoots his semen in your little alley.
after spurting three more loads in you, you feel so sticky and filled. your entrance totally abused and wide as you lay on your side with michael behind you on the christened mattress.
michael hums approvingly when he sees how your drooling hole gapes open, his sperm leaking on your thigh.
his cock is still slick and soft, but hardens almost instantly when he pushes into you again. the wet, squelching sound your pussy makes should put him off. but literally nothing would stop michael from keeping his cum in you until it’d take.
“gonna plug y’up,” his cock serves as a rod, stopping his cum from meandering out of your little hole. letting his semen marinate your insides.
your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hole filling up again, stretching around your best friend’s cock. you feel satisfied, full, like he’s in your lungs.
one of michael’s hands lingers on your boob, slowly fondling with your soft, cute nipples, while the other stays on your mound, unconsciously pushing you against his cock again.
“yeah, fall asleep on me, baby. not goin’ anywhere.”
a/n: PLEASE. please. don’t have a guy cockwarm you after he came in you. use protection first of all, but seriously, cockwarming after can cause stds and infections and weird shit to your body.
+ i'm not a porn lover at all but imagine manipulative bsf!michael convincing you to watch porn with him lmaoooo
+ don’t rlly like stories abt children so pleaseeee no reqs abt them suddenly raising children tgt pls 🥹
Summary: A continuation of part one, navigating your way through being a professional while acknowledging your fleshy desires and temptations
Warnings: 18+, smut, passionate conversations, raw emotions, strong language, sexual behaviors, begging, penetration, love making, denial of pleasure, masturbating, submichael,creampie , etc.
Being the personal assistant for the biggest celebrity in the world definitely has its advantages and disadvantages. You often found yourself in this strange void of merging into an assistant and a close friend all in the same breath, it’s very important that you knew when to be a professional and when it was time to show up as just yourself, but often times those lines are crossed and blurry once you look around
This week had been one of those weeks. Michael was having his first public appearance since he was acquitted of all charges. Because of this it always brought out both good and bad publicity. This meant more people outside his property and more media coverage, even though Michael trusted you and your word he struggled with not listening to the harsh criticism of the media. You’ve seen it all over the years..the ups and downs of being a support system for Michael. At this point you were more than equipped to deal with it. So the moment you seen his spirits shifting you stepped in and helped
You began to notice Michael wasn’t eating much and he was starting to sleep less. While you’d be up late working he would come out of his room just to sit and talk with you till wee hours, showing no signs of being lethargic. He wasn’t able to relax because of the constant stress standing right outside his gate. So you decided to book a rental property for the weekend, just a few hours away from his main residence. Only telling his security and no one else
Tonight was the first night staying in the vacation home with Michael. He slept majority of the day but this gave you the opportunity to catch up on emails and plan future trips of travel for him. Once he finally came out the room he placed a kiss on your cheek before sitting next to you on the sofa
“I thought you wanted me to relax this weekend?”
“I do Michael, that’s why we’re here”
“Well I can’t relax if you’re not relaxed”
“And if I get fired because I didn’t do my job I won’t be able to relax…ever again”
“You can take off the weekend—if not, then I’ll fire you” he chuckled
“You know you’re the most unusual boss I’ve ever had Michael? Most of the times they want you to work all the time and here you are telling me that if I don’t relax I’ll lose my job” You smirked closing your laptop
“And that’s why Michael is the best” he boasted
“Besides, if I’m overworked and can’t show up nobody gets paid” shrugging his shoulders and laughing
Michael held out his hand and guided you through the living room and into his master bedroom bathroom where the shower was already running
“Shower with me please?”
“Michael..” you began trailing off as he grabbed you by your waist & kissing in the crook of your neck
“Please? It would help me relax” He turned you away from the mirror so you couldn’t see the smirk on his face
“You know I can’t say no to you”
Michael instructed you to undress yourself slowly as he watched from inside the shower. Trying to resist the urge to touch himself before you could watch. Once the two of you were in the shower, Michael submerged the both of you under the hot water. You wrapped your arms around Michael as his hands roamed from your back and down to your butt before he firmly smacked it causing you to moan in his mouth
“You’re so beautiful to me mama, just watching you strutting around my house makes my dick hard”
He began kissing up and down your neck before returning back to your face “I never stopped thinking about you Pinky”
Closing your eyes and licking your lips before kissing Michael’s chest “Everytime we say “last time” a new scenario gets played”
The both of you moved your lips together in sync as Michael held your face in place. Only breaking away because he was running out of breath then carefully pressing his mouth to your ear and using four of his fingers to begin rubbing your clitoris
“Because I need more..Pinky that one time wasn’t enough for me I wanna taste you in my mouth again”
Hearing this was as sweet as symphony to you. Michael being so vulnerable with you & you only was such a turn on for you. It felt like special privilege
You glanced over at the shower bench and gently pushed Michael into submission while you got yourself comfortable on your knees. You kissed from Michael’s knees all the way through to his shaft and kept sharp eye contact with Michael.
It was clear as day that Michael was starting to lose his composure as you got closer to his dick. Every breath you let out and every brush of your lips going past his sensitive skin made him wince
“You said you need me baby? Tell me how you need me”
You spit on his tip before taking your dominant hand to create a pleasurable sensation. Michael rested his head into the corner of the wall with his eyes sealed tightly and cursing only loud enough for him to hear
“I can’t hear you baby—I’ll just have to stop” You used your other hand to gently pull back his foreskin causing him to start gasping for air
“Pinky please don’t stop” shaking his head side to side before looking down at you
This brought a smile to your face “My sweet boy” using the palm of your hand to rub against his tip causing friction
“You remember that night in Paris baby? Cause I do” looking up at Michael with a heavy gaze lingering over her eyes
“I remember you losing it the minute you slid in my pussy” you chuckled “isn’t it true?”
He nodded his head while gripping onto the edges of the shower bed “The look on your face when you told me to keep going and how you liked to be fucked” grunting through his words
“I couldn’t believe how tight you felt around me & the way your walls clenched on me when you were cumming” his eyes rolled back and groaned louder “My goodness the sweet voice you used on me that night. Your voice went out on me because of how loud I made you scream”
Michael could tell with his specific words of choice he had you under his command. Each memory pulling you into his grace
“You’re the best I ever had Pinky” Michael innocently admitted, not fully meaning to say such sensitive words
“Tell me where you want to cum on me baby”
“Your tits” releasing a shaky breath
Michael stood from his seat and jerked himself off before releasing his nut over both of your breasts. The minute he felt his release a wave of relief and ecstasy overtook him, so much so that he had to rest one hand on the shower wall to keep him standing up
He allowed breathless moans over and over still stroking his dick until nothing was left. Looking down at you, you seemed more than pleased with his performance. Michael placed his fingers under your chin and helped you stand to your feet where the two of you began to devour each others lips. “I’m so proud of you baby”
Constant tongue sucking sounds followed by muffled moans and agonizing sighs
“Michael I need you to touch me” speaking as if you were on the verge of crying
“I need you to touch me so badly it hurts. I haven’t been satisfied since the night we had together”
That’s all he needed to hear. Michael picked you up and held you by your ass as he carried you out the shower and into his bedroom. You attacked his face, smothering him in kisses
Tossing your naked body on the bed he pushed your legs above your head and instructed you to hold them in place as he went down on you
“Tell me how bad it’s been Pinky”
Using his middle and index fingers to penetrate you constantly as he began focusing his tongue over your clitoris. Your pulse was so strong he could feel it beating against his tongue
“Michael I’ve been frustrated for months” you cried out
“No matter how much I touch myself it’s not enough” you exhaled deeply “and then you tease me everyday. Brushing your dick against me like I can’t feel you. Michael you’re such a slut!”
Michael had his entire mouth engulfed in your pussy. Shaking his head slowly from side to side and moaning into you then erratically speeding up causing you to scream out like you were in need of help
“You cumming for me? Already?” Michael seemingly shocked at the thick creamy clouds flooding around his face and fingers before sucking them off
Hovering over you and sliding his tip in and out of you repeatedly driving you crazy. Watching you lose your mind brought a sinister feeling to Michael
“Tell me what you want from me”
“I want you to make me cum over and over again until I can’t take it anymore. I want all of you”
Michael compressed his body into yours and bit on your bottom lip as he finally allowed himself to slide inside you fully. His eyes immediately rolled back feeling the unforgettable sensation of your insides. Your legs dangled over his shoulders, each thrust they began to shake harder than before
Hot tears spilled from your face as you felt another buildup manifesting inside you
“Pinky talk to me” kissing away your tears
“M-Michael why do you fuck me like this? You drive me crazy and then I can’t stop thinking about you because it’s not enough”
“You want me all the time don’t you?”
You nodded your head with speed and dug your fingernails in his back. Michael kissed your lips gently before pressing his forehead into yours
“I fuck you like this because I know this pretty little body of yours better than you do baby. I fuck you like this because I got tired of you coming in here whining about that piece of shit boyfriend you used to have” Michael smirked in disgust
“From the day I met you Pinky I knew that he didn’t know what to do with you and he wasn’t fucking you right. You were so sexually frustrated. I waited until I had you all for myself before making a move on you. I always had my eye on you because you were always mine”
“You mean that?”
“All of it” pecking your lips “You probably didn’t think I could fuck you like this because I’m older than you—didn’t you?”
Your cheeks turned red and you tried burying your face in his chest to hide your frustrations “I-I always knew it was big”
“You know why I nicknamed you Pinky? Because I’ve never seen the inside of a pussy so rosy and flushed like yours” he groaned “I could get off that by staring at it all day”
Soft wet sounds filled the room followed by their uneven breathing and cries of desperation. Michael breathing in a husky voice and talking you through your orgasm
“Michael I want you to cum inside me and don’t stop until you’re done”
Catching him completely by surprise, even the last romantic encounter that was shared you never allowed yourself to be so vulnerable
“I need you to cum for me first pretty girl”
Michael pressed down on your abdomen forcing your body into shock, causing him to squirt over the bed and filling a puddle. Your walls continuously clenching and contracting around his dick creating a sensation too powerful for him to handle, burying his seed deep within you as he penetrated you deeper. Feeling his body recoil with each pump
“We made such a mess tonight, I’m embarrassed” looking at the puddle underneath the both of you
Now lying beside you and running his fingers through your sweaty hair and cheek. Brushing his thumb over your lips “You’re the only person in this world I trust, Pinky”
You grabbed Michael’s hand and gently kissed his fingers “I love you too Mikey”
A/N: Because I’m horny all the damn time I decided to write a follow up scene for this because it’s 👩🏽🍳💋
nothing like a classic rivalry between two football teams to end off the anticipated homecoming week, with the red and gold cardinals going against the green and yellow hornets later that night.
“cheer for me when i throw a touchdown” michael joked loud enough for you to hear from the connected bathroom, laying against his pillows with his arms crossed behind his head, the comforter covering the lower half of his body. you rolled your eyes as you walked back into his room with your toothbrush in one hand, wiping your mouth with the other.
you let out a laugh, ignoring what you just heard. bending down to store your toothbrush and toothpaste into the side pocket of your bag. michael observed you wondering around his room in your matching black bra and underwear, snatching your duffle bag off the floor and placing it on the bed.
“at least give me a kiss when we beat you guys” michael smirked, scoffing as you shook your head, pulling your green and yellow cheerleading uniform out the duffle along with the needed accessories before tossing it on the end of michael’s bed.
“i think you’re forgetting you’re playing at our house tonight” you reminded him, “the hornets will win” you added, turning your attention to putting on your uniform.
“we’ll see about that” he replied, his bottom lip caught in between teeth as he continued to watch you get ready.
“you would look better in red & gold though”
࣪˖➹﹑ author’s note: hey… its been a long time since i posted something like i am soo sorry, this is my first drabble? so feedback is appreciated!! i have like three one shots in the drafts and its difficult to finish them for some reason :( im usually a one shots type of girl but i think i’m going to do drabbles as well to put more stuff out :)
