Anyways y’all I’m going to be completely honest, I hate sharing Michael with #those fans. I know it’s toxic but I feel like he should only be ours; I don’t like the way #they act in this fandom. Call me greedy I don’t care but #they don’t deserve him at all especially with how they treat us. As his women, I think we have every right to be strict and honestly we should be more strict because of what we have to deal with from #those fans. This is definitely going to piss them off but honestly I really don’t care at this point. I feel like they tend to have a habit of forgetting that Michael was Black first and that we (black women) were here long before any of them would’ve even looked his way. Like no shade but at the end of the day they’re just fans, we are literally HIS PEOPLE. Okay that’s enough being messy for today but it needed to be said and I’m pretty sure y’all understand why I’m saying this 😭
This comes from a place of being fed up with all of this for so long. The same people who walk around preaching that Michael was for everybody will then go out of their way to exclude Black women, knowing damn well that we are the original fans of Michael.
As soon as y'all are the ones being excluded and you know who I'm talking about suddenly Michael is for everybody. Suddenly Michael loved everybody, Michael's music was for everybody, and Michael's message was for everybody. But as soon as it's Black women being excluded, we're doing too much, we're taking it too far, and we're acting like we own Michael.
The double standard in so many things in today's society never fails to baffle me.
I don't own Michael, and I will say that with discernment. I don't own Michael. But when I say I didn't mind sharing him, I meant that everybody is allowed to love Michael. Because Michael loved people. Michael loved beauty. Michael saw the good in people. Michael saw the good in the world.
So where do you get off being a fan of a Black man and his Black family while hating on Black women, knowing Michael loved Black women? Whether you think he liked Black women romantically or not, he still loved Black women. His sisters were Black. His mother was Black. His aunties were Black. His cousins were Black. Okay? Where do you get off? Where do you find the audacity?
And that's the thing I don't think y'all understand.
Any racist bitch who's thinking about coming into my inbox and sending me a hate message after this, don't bother.
You're anonymous. You're not even brave enough to say it with your real account or show your face on your account. You have to hide behind a screen. And I guarantee you that not a single one of you who are racist toward Black people in this fandom would ever have the fucking balls or audacity to walk up to any one of us in public and say the shit you say online to our faces.
Because at the end of the day, you're a pussy.
We know you're mentally ill. We know you're not the smartest. But guess what? That's not an excuse to be a dumb bitch.
Anywho, I'm getting back to my day and back to the positive.
Casual tag list : @plan3tch1ld @missharper33 @syrndollie @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @1andonlytashae
✶⋆.˚ ┆ 𝒮ummary: you and michael slow dance in the kitchen to “The Lady in My Life”
✶⋆.˚ ┆ 𝒯hriller!michael x girlfriend!reader
✶⋆.˚ ┆ I love this song sm it consumes me. this is a short one just to show my appreciation and love for it
You were in the kitchen of your shared home with michael making dinner, while also having Thriller play on your nearby record player. Ever since the release of Thriller, everyone has been pulling your boyfriend every which way, and it has definitely been hectic these past few weeks. It was even a miracle that tonight you had him to yourself, no business calls, no abrupt trips to the studio that ran longer than intended, just you and him in your cozy home as you played and sang along to his music. Michael was upstairs, talking to some friends on the phone who wanted to congratulate him personally on the release, showering him with compliments no doubt.
After a moment, the first notes of The Lady in My Life started, you instantly smiled, remembering the exact night that song really came alive in the studio. Michael, that day wanted this special song to be perfect, in every sense of the word. It was obviously made with nothing but you in his mind and when he couldn’t land the ending of the song he felt a bit of embarrassment. But after some reassurance from you plus Quincy pulling him aside and telling him to really “beg” for it, he got himself together and did it. You start humming and singing along to the first few lines, moving around the kitchen in quiet efficiency.
After a few moments, the song still going on and you still humming along, michael ascended down from the stairs, his smile growing at your voice getting louder as he walked down. You didn’t even notice him or hear him until his hands slowly went around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. “hey you..” you say affectionately, giving him a smile. “hey, pretty lady.” michael responded, “singing my song?” he asked playfully. You turn around to properly face him, still in his arms as you wrap yourself around him, “I haven’t been able to sing along to anything else” you giggle, giving him a soft and slow kiss. Michael smiles into the kiss and after, gently pulling away. “let’s… stay like this for a moment, dance with me darling.” michael whispers in your ear, resting his head against yours as he takes your hand and holds it firmly but gently. You smile as you stay close to him, leaning your head back against his.
Deciding the right time to step in, michael starts singing to you, in your ear.
“And I will keep you warm, through the shadows of the night.” His voice was sweet and lulling you to a place far away from any worries as he continued.
“Let me touch you with my love…” and right after “touch,” michael squeezed your hand and caressed the back of it with his thumb. Since the moment he started singing you were already gone, mesmerized by his sweet angelic voice while shutting your eyes to really dwell in this sweet moment.
“…I can make you feel so right. And baby, through the years even when we’re old and gray… I will love you more each day, ‘Cause you will always be the lady in my life.”
As he swayed you, he started slowly going in circles with you all while singing certain parts of the song. He noticed and could feel your relaxed state, damn near falling asleep to his voice so michael gently took the back of your head and rested it on his shoulder. “I’ll finish dinner if I have to… just breathe in this moment, listen to me sing to you, rocking you in my sweet caress…” he whispers to you. And so you did, you took everything in, the atmosphere, the closeness of your bodies together, slow dancing in the middle of your kitchen…. it was one of those moments where you so badly prayed time would freeze even it felt seconds long.
you shift to pull him in closer, if even possible, “I love you.” you whisper to him, delicate like a flower petal, warm as the sun. Michael smiles against you as he continues to sway with you. “I love you so much more, baby.” he says, kissing your temple, “you’re my lady… till the end of time. I choose you.”
might be the cutest story I’ve ever written. this song means so much to me and I’m certain it means just the same for thousands of others so I hope you fellow liml lovers find this and love this the same as I do !!!
The one thing he loved after your body was to bear his children and bring them to life was your lactating tits. Oh God, he’d suck on them every chance he’d get.
Often, when the sun went down and the moon came up, and you were laying all comfy in bed, he’d sink in next to you, trying to get closer to your body, gripping your waist and occasionally rubbing your skin softly with his hand.
His hands would then find the straps of your nightdress you’d put on and tug them down softly. Your hand finding his to help him take it off.
Your plump tits would be in full display for him, all for him to do whatever he wanted.
“Oh, you’re such a pretty mama,” he’d mumble before diving into the sweet flesh he adored.
Kissing around the skin of your boobs whilst the other pinched your nipple ever so slightly, causing you to whimper.
“Ngh, Michael.”
Your back arched slightly, your hand finding the hair on the back of his head, tugging it gently.
“My pretty mama.”
His mouth then found your nipple, sucking it gently as the other boob kept his hand occupied so it didn’t feel neglected.
As Michael began to suck, he finally tasted the milk he’d loved drinking. He moaned at the taste.
You threw your head back at the feeling, eager to touch yourself. Your hand traveled down your body on its way to relieve the tension, till he stopped your hand, putting his thigh between your legs.
“Ride it out on me, pretty baby,” he mumbled before continuing his sucking on your tits.
And oh, you did.
You grabbed onto him, grinding down on his leg, relieved from the ache you’d been feeling ever since he started touching you.
He continued sucking on your breasts, swallowing every bit of milk that dropped from your tits onto his tongue.
“You taste so, so good, baby.”
You couldn’t comprehend an answer in return. Instead, you were in desperate need to chase that release that was coming dangerously closer.
Michael kept his attention occupied on your boobs. His hand would cup your flesh to try and pry all of it in his mouth. Eager to consume you whole.
“M-Mike!” you whimpered, before one last grind led your orgasm to crash over you.
Your whole body convulsed, and as if Michael had just come at the same time, he groaned hard at the sound of you coming.
He latched himself off your tit with strings of saliva attaching you both before traveling up to your lips, where he kissed you deeply.
“Gonna make me drunk off your milk, mama.”
You giggled breathlessly at his remark before you both dozed off to sleep, with your boob still in his mouth.
ame’s notes : I need to lock in and make actual longer fics instead of these fast blurbs…
⋮ ✶ ┆it’s family dinner night and you’re cooking for michael and his brothers but maybe everyone has something they wanna tell you?
⋮ ✶ ┆𝒻. reader x husband!michael j. | you aren’t a good cook. some lowkey bullying from his brothers. comedy. fluff. imagined thriller/thrad era but it doesn’t matter. michael comforts you. lowkey some slop. 0.9k wc
𝓂asterlist
You’d been toiling away in the kitchen all morning to prepare for today. It was Sunday evening, and the day you would be having a family dinner with Michael and his brothers.
His sisters and parents wouldn’t be joining this time, mostly because Michael insisted that having everyone in the house at one time was a recipe for disaster.
On the menu tonight was a lemon chicken orzo. It was quick and simple but tasted like a lot of effort was put into it.
You’d set the table and spent the day cleaning the house and had Michael taste test the food which he’d insisted was amazing, as he always did.
So you were pretty confident when dinner rolled around and everyone had packed into the dining room.
“Y’know Michael is always raving about how his wife is the best cook so I’ll be tha’ judge of that.” Jackie said as you placed a full plate in front of him.
You were nervous for them to try your food but you loved cooking, taking care of people, and serving guests so you were excited.
“Well I don’t know about best but I hope you like it.” you smiled and placed the next plate in front of Tito who smiled back and thanked you.
“This looks really good, almost professional chef good.” Jermaine called from the opposite end of the table and you flushed at the compliment.
Once everyone was served you took your seat beside Michael at the table with your own plate.
Everything was going fine at first as you watched everyone take their first few bites but then you heard an abrupt clatter as Marlon dropped his fork to the plate and ducked his head.
“Is uh everything okay?” you asked, blowing at your own fork before taking a bite.
“Hmm hmm. Just too hot.” he hummed and took a large gulp of water. He seemed to make eye contact with Michael for a moment before returning his eyes down to his plate.
Weird.
Across the table you noticed everyone in similar states of disarray. All making different faces. Jermaine had begun coughing slightly, Marlon had a grimace on his face as he stared at the wall ahead, while Jackie and Tito had put their hands over their mouths.
You turned your attention to Michael beside you who sat eating his food normally and meeting your eyes with a shrug.
“So how’s the food everyone?” you asked with a small hint of suspicion.
“Good.” a cough.
“Great.”
“Amazing.”
“So good I don’t even want seconds.” Marlon hadn’t torn his eyes from the wall yet.
You furrowed your brows.
You took another bite and an idea began forming in your head. “Y’know I may have overcooked the orzo a little. And the chicken is a little burnt but I don’t think it’s too bad.”
“I think it’s delicious baby.” Michael said as he placed a hand on your thigh from under the table, reassuringly.
“I mean it could—“ Marlon began speaking but was cut off by Michael’s firm tone.
“Marlon, finish your food. She spent all day on this so don’t be ungrateful.” he clicked his tongue.
“But I just think— never mind.”
You let the silence fill the room a little longer before it was too much for you to take. “Alright what’s going on?” everyone’s eyes turned to you then as you all stared at each other waiting for someone to break the tension.
“I’m so sorry but you’re a terrible cook.”
“This isn’t very good.”
“Maybe just a little off recipe.”
You furrowed your brows at their simultaneous responses.
“Really, it’s that bad? Michael has never once complained about my cooking?”
“How long has he been eating your food for? Probably got used to it.” wow way to be delicate.
You frowned slightly, turning to Michael again who looked like he wanted to jump across the table.
“You guys are not about to drag me into this. Apologize to her right now. ” he pointed a finger to everyone at the table but he didn’t deny anything they’d said.
“Seriously so you weren’t gonna tell me that my cooking sucked?” you crossed your arms over your chest defensively.
“No— I just—“ he looked around helplessly when you turned your anger on him, not knowing what to say.
You abruptly got up from the table and left the dining room, not waiting for further explanation before heading towards your bedroom stating that they could order a pizza instead. Your feelings were officially hurt.
Michael didn’t waste a moment following after you because you always came first in his mind and he wanted to make sure you were okay.
He found you seated on the bed, changing out of the clothes you’d picked out for dinner, your top already half off.
He sidled up next to you and tried to pull you into his arms which you slightly rested but he didn’t let go.
“I’m so sorry baby. And for the record I do like your cooking just the way it is because you made it with love and you made it for me.” he whispered into your hair pulling you into his lap.
“Well that’s great but I still want it to taste good too and for you to not tell me it didn’t—“
“I know I should’ve said something and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about my brothers. When you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make them all apologize.” he kissed your temple and you melted into his arms a little.
“I still don’t really forgive you.”
“What can I do to make it up to you?” he pressed you closer to his chest.
“Hmm I can think of a few things.” you said pulling back so he could see the grin crossing your face.
☆Summary: OTW!Michael tries to confess but ends up yapping about animal mating rituals instead.
◇Word Count: 1.4k
》 you know ball if you know where this title comes from lol.
“So let me get this straight,” Marlon sits up properly, disbelief plain on his face before it melts into a barely withheld cackle, lips wobbling as he tries not to react. “You tried asking her on a date but you ended up what?!”
Just hearing the situation shortened out loud makes him want to groan out loud.
Why did he even choose Marlon to talk about this? He doesn't even know himself.
Maybe he had too much faith in the man that he wouldn't make fun of his misfortune.
Embarrassed, Michael threw a throw pillow at his sibling who ended up laughing harder, head thrown back and hands over his chest.
“This is comedy gold! Wh-what the—” Then he's laughing again.
“Shut up…”
“Oh brother, you are so fucking helpless.”
“Oh I know.”
Michael himself wanted to hit his head on the wall himself the moment he spouted out that stupid fact instead of the words he actually wanted to say.
How does three words—three syllables, so easy!—turn into a vomit of tens or maybe twenty that detailed the gruesome fact of how bees mate?
“How did a simple ‘I like you’ lead to that bullshit?! Oh brother dear, I am writing this down and having it posted on a billboard downtown to commemorate it.” Marlon says, mirth still apparent on his face.
“Don't you dare.”
It all began on a cloudy Saturday when your parents had deserted your home and decided you wanted to hang out with Michael instead in their absence.
Truth be told, he had been thinking about confessing to you since last month and only this week had he finally gathered the confidence to finally tell you.
He had to convince himself that your lingering stare, touches that last too long to be considered friendly or accidental, and your galloping heartbeat that pulses out of your chest every time you guys hugged meant something, meant that everything his siblings had been teasing him about was true.
That maybe, just maybe, you like him too.
So there he goes with a popcorn bowl sat high up on his lap to not be disturbed by his nervous jumping legs, mustering all the courage in his throat as the cartoon plays on the television.
“Tink?”
“Hm, yeah?”
He placed the popcorn bowl on the table and took a deep breath as he settled his back on the couch.
“You know how… I got this event this week, right?”
Eyes not straying from the tv, you turned your head a little to him and nod. “Yeah?”
“So, I'm thinking that… Maybe you'd wanna…”
Then a lump catches on Michael's throat, his heart jackhammering against his ribs, its’ beat echoing up to his ears as he continued to stare at the side of your face, suddenly taken in by the sheer beauty sitting in front of him.
Finding his sudden silence suspicious, you finally shifted your attention to him.
“What is it, Mikey?”
With your full attention now on him, Michael finds himself going dizzy from how nervous he's gotten and he ended up spouting the most bullshit thing he's ever said, ever:
“I wanna see this bee farm in the area ‘ca-cause I heard that when bees mate there's a huge possibility that the male explodes.”
Bewildered by the sudden animal fact, you just blinked a couple of times and nodded slowly.
“O-okay…? Have fun…?”
The day after his epic failure, Michael decided he's going to try again.
Today finds him sitting on the sunbed next to you. With the insane heat since this morning, you had called upon awakening to ask if you could come over to have a swim. Michael agreed and changed out of his casual clothes to a more appropriate swimwear.
You had jumped in, swimming and fluttering about in the pool alone only to crawl out not even half an hour later complaining about the stark heat of the afternoon sun burning your skin.
“You guys should install a roof over here.”
“Then summers wouldn't be as good.”
“Summers have never been good, Mikey. You sweat and get sticky all over 24/7, it's disgusting.” You huffed, rolling over to your stomach, taking the spare towel from the side table to cover up half of your body as you get comfy on your already used towel draped over the chair.
“Don't fall asleep. I can't carry you up.”
“Then wake me up.”
“Nah, I think I'll just get Bill to do it for me.” He grinned as you pushed your sunglasses down to glare at him.
“You wouldn't dare.”
“I would and I have done it before. You know that I would actually dare.”
He was referring to the time you had asked to be picked up after a night out with friends and he arrived to see you slumped down against the wall as two of your friends stood guard on either side. You didn't want to walk, complaining about sores on your food and asked if he could carry you.
Michael tried of course but he just doesn't have the muscle mass to support you without his limbs shaking like a leaf.
You then decided to throw a drunken tantrum until he ordered Bill to carry you into the car. Surprised by the events, you had simply flushed and stayed silent the whole ride to your home.
“You're so mean to me, Mike.”
“That’s offensive. I'm nothing but a good friend for letting you use our pool.”
Hearing the word friend leave his lips reminded him of his task for today and he quickly flushed red, stomach ticklish with a thousand of fluttering butterflies.
Even with your cheek smushed against the sunbathing chair and your hair ruined by the water, Michael still thinks of you as the cutest thing to ever exist with the otters running for second place.
And like otters, Michael wanted nothing but to bite into the fat of your pushed-up cheek—just less violent and bloody unlike them.
“So Tink…”
“Hm?” You sleepily answered back.
“I know it's so weird and sudden to bring this up out of nowhere but, i-if you'd—uh… let me, err…”
Why is confessing so hard? It's just three words, why is he having a borderline heart attack trying to say it?
Dang it, Jackson. Just say it!
“What's getting you all choked up? Just tell me—”
“Do you…”
“Hm?”
Now your full attention's on him, shades now placed lower on your nose bridge and his throat tightens up again.
“Do-do you…”
“Michael, just say it.”
“D-do you know that de-despite being cute little things, otters’ mating ri-rituals are pretty viol—”
“Good fucking god.”
Final day.
This is going to be that day where he'd stop mumbling about random animal facts whenever he gets all choked up trying to tell you how he feels.
He's gonna confess, he swears it.
Otherwise, he's kissing his pretty car away to Carol—as per Marlon's bet.
“So… Tink—”
“I swear if you start blabbering about animal facts again, Michael. I will actually sell off those loafers online.” You tell him, irritated with your eyebrows furrowed so cutely and your eyes blazing with your ire.
How did you manage to look much prettier when you're angry at him, specifically?
Taking a deep breath, you pressed him on with your glare, daring him to finally say what he's been trying to tell you three days ago.
“I…”
“Hm? Go on…?”
“Stop starin’ at me, you're scaring me.” Of course, not true. He has never been more taken in by you whenever you're blazing with the need to shake him or maybe strangle him.
“Just fucking tell me what you've been wanting to say!”
“I-It's hard… I'm a little shy.”
You stared at him, blinking incredulously before throwing all the care in the world behind you and pulling him in by the collar of his shirt, pressing your lips against his.
Michael freezes, not expecting the kiss at all. His mind whirls with explosive glee, finally registering the softness of your lips against him, chasing after that sensation when you pulled away for a much longer kiss with his hands cupping your face.
For a moment, he didn't mind that you ruined the effort he made on gathering his courage to finally confess and ask you to be his date tomorrow. All he cared about was the taste of you and the sweetness of your perfume wafting around him.
You were significantly shy when he finally relents, eyes not meeting his with a flush on your cheek.
“You were just… taking too long and the event's tomorrow.”
He grinned like a lovesick fool, eyes magnetized on your lips. “Yo-you ruined my thing though. Did you know how much I tried to not psyche myself out?”
Michael being mean! Bad!Michael x bsf!reader (18+ for smut!) reader has expensive taste! 👅
Michael was cuddled up on the couch with you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other was deep in a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. Horror movies were Michael’s favorite and yours too, so he invited you over for a movie night. Just the two of you, without your boyfriend.
“Hey, angel, come sit in my lap,” he patted his lap. “Let’s get nice and warm, yeah?” He licked his lips as you settled into his lap without hesitation, your round, heart-shaped ass pressing directly onto his growing erection.
Michael was intoxicated by your intense vanilla and cashmere scent, your soft curls falling onto his face, tickling his cheeks.
“Baby, when’s your boyfriend coming over?” He grunted rolling his hips up onto you. A soft moan escaped his lips.
“Oh, he’s coming in twenty minutes cause I need a ride to get back home,” you answered, absentmindedly twirling a curl with your finger.
“Well, ride me then.” Your eyes widened in shock, and something else. But Michael was just your friend, and you already had a boyfriend.
“But Michael what I-“ you protested, but Michael cut you off by a kiss, wrapping his arms around your torso, pulling you flush against him.
“C’mon babygirl, we do this all time,” he brushed a couple of curls out of your face. Then he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “he won’t have to know, angel…”
You gave in, helping him unzip his trousers, throwing them off to the side while he unbuckled his belt, placing it onto the couch beside him. He bunched your dress up to your waist, removing your now wet panties and stuffed them into his Bad jacket pocket.
He rolls hips up onto yours, filling you up all the way, causing a moan to escape your bruised and swollen lips. Your hips twitch involuntarily, walls clenching around his length. A whimper leaves your mouth.
“Michael I can’t,” you whine, despite the roll of your hips, and your dilated pupils.
“Shhhh, stop squirming,” he flips you onto your stomach, laying on top of him, chest pressed into the couch, ass up. “What did I say about squirming?” His palm meets your left cheek. You yelp in pain and pleasure, biting your bottom lip.
“You gonna listen now? You gonna be a good girl?” He teased, striking your right cheek with a stinging slap that surely leaves a red mark. You whimper, nodding.
“Hmmm? That’s not answer,” he tsks, striking again causing you to yelp.
“Yes-yes, I’ll be good Michael,” your clit throbs. Another broken moan leaves your lips as he hauls you back up to straddle him, thrusting upwards into your cunt. Each thrust hits your g-spot instantly, sending sensations throughout your entire body.
Michael chuckled at your whimpering and moaning, teasing you even further by applying a thumb to roll your clit, while the other played with your tits, kneading and punching your nipples playfully.
“Michael I can’t, I can’t, I’m about to-“ you gasp.
“You’re about to cum?” He cooed. “Cum all over my cock then,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear. He sped up the pace of his thrusting and clit stimulation, leaning forwards to latch onto your nipple, sucking and biting softly.
The triple stimulation was too much, causing the coil in your stomach to snap, your orgasm riding in waves as you arched into his touch, walls clenching and unclenching around his length.
“That’s it, good girl,” he praised, thumb brushing against your flushed cheek, the leather of his fingerless gloves rough against your face. “Enjoy the ride?” He smirked, leaning back and resting his arms lazily on the couch head behind him.
“Better than any Porsche or Lamborghini,” you leaned in to kiss his jawline, resting your hands on his shoulders.
Your back arched with pleasure as Michael pumped his digits deeper, curling his fingers just right.
“Ngh!, Michael, right here!” you moaned loudly.
He groaned as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking with such precision that it made you wince, your eyes squeezing shut.
Your hand grabbed onto his curls, pushing him harder against your wet, slick skin.
He was completely pussy-drunk, unable to form any words other than occasional groans and whimpers.
“I-I’m close, Mike,” you whimpered, throwing your head back against the mattress.
With a swift motion, Michael tilted your hips upward, putting you in an easier position for him to completely devour you.
Another suck against your clit, and your orgasm came crashing down like a wave.
“Michael!” His name was the only thing you could get out.
He sucked harder than before until you felt something sharp against your cunt.
Being too lost in pleasure, you were too dazed to notice the slight sting of his hands gripping your thighs tighter.
He lowered himself, causing your hips to flop back onto the bed as he continued sucking on your sensitive sex.
“C-calm down,” you whimpered, trying to push his head back.
His groans grew louder as he tilted his head up slightly to meet your gaze, and you were startled by the look in his eyes.
They were completely black, no white in sight. His eyebrows were furrowed as he pulled away from your cunt, wet strings still connecting his mouth to your pussy.
He looked at you in awe, opening his mouth slightly and revealing his fangs. fangs you had never seen before.
As scared as you were, you struggled to back up, bracing yourself with your forearms against the mattress.
“N-no, no, don’t be scared…” he whispered, coming closer, his face hovering above yours.
“Michael, wha—”
You struggled, still trying to recover from the shock. His eyes were still black, staring intensely into yours.
His breathing was heavy.
“I should’ve told you, but I was scared you’d leave, baby…” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress your face as he gently tucked your hair behind your ear.
“I’m sorry, Mama. ’M so, so sorry.”
Your breathing slowly calmed, though fear still lingered in your voice.
“What are you, Michael?”
“I’m a…”
He hesitated.
“A vampire.”
He wiped the slick from his mouth with the back of his hand before looking up at you.
Darryl Michael as your college roomie! Pt. 1!
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚headcannons!! with some fluff! and smut but you didn’t hear it from me… (note: some of the stuff below is not accurate to irl)
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who helped you study for your public health final by ‘practicing’ the terms listed on your laptop, the screen bright in your eyes as you read it while he fucked you from behind. “What’s the next one?” he breathed in your ear, gripping your hips.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚ Darryl!Michael who pulled an all-nighter with you as you vented about your recent ex, ordered pizzas and sodas (orange juice for Michael, and no Pepsi obvi!) while he did your nails, and even treated you with an at-home spa, reassuring you it was no big deal. Like he said, “a special treatment for my special lady.”
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who often, weirdly, sometimes disappeared during the night; you woke up feeling chilly as he was usually your blanket, hugging from behind. Clues started to pile up, explaining the disappearances; notes saying that he would be back, just at a party, but you know he didn’t party. Or, clothes were misplaced, or poorly hidden; like that black jacket with matching pants that had buckles everywhere on them. Maybe he was bad. Or in a gang.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who comforted you when you were on your cycle, snuggling up next to you—he was your heating pad—brewed you tea, bought you your favorite assorted Lindor chocolates, and yelled at the professor when he said that you were just ‘being a brat’, or ‘couldn’t handle pain’. He made sure you had no classes that week, period.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who took you out once to the fancy Italian store down in Times Square, and took you on a shopping spree to your favorite stores; Victorias Secret, Dior, Chanel, Sephora, Juicy Couture, and the gourmet chocolate factory. You don’t know how or where he got that money though…
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael, who you swore was just Darryl, one day went to the same exact studio that Michael Jackson recorded in, and returned with a finished track and asked you for feedback. Of course, you loved it, and he loved that you loved it.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who decided that he wanted to shoot you in his photo shoot, right in the living room of your college dorm, and bought you a lingerie piece in red. The one that you’ve been trying to save up since your first year in college. After a couple of photos though, the camera was abandoned, and you and Michael had retreated to your shared bedroom and had, well, not necessarily a photo shoot, but something far more raw then what was captured on the lens.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who filmed when you two were intimate, and made you watch how beautiful you were in the tape. He swore he would never show anyone the sex tape, as did you. The next day the tape was leaked and the entire school knew about you two, but Michael loved the thrill and attention.
˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚Darryl!Michael who had a boner right in class-he was sitting next to you-and was whispering dirty words and exactly what he was planning to do with you as soon as that bell rang and you were in the bathroom by the corridors. While you were fucking, a group of girls came into the bathroom, you were terrified of being caught, but Michael loved it and would purposefully thrust slowly until you were a moaning mess. An audio recording was leaked the next day.
@yeaitsapplehead @out-of-this-world-mj @botdfaholic @filthytabloidpress @feenin4dietcoke @ttangerinexo sorry if I forgot you!
divider by @suupersonic
wc: 1.2k hc's. Contains... AU!Michael, otw era, non-famous AU, lonely!reader, fluff, soft!micahel, sub!michael, suggestive (MDNI) inspired by this
You didn’t meet Michael; you created him. Tired fighting crows, you turned to find a solution.
Which led you here: hunched over a table passed down through several generations of your family, weaving thread into a tattered sewing machine. Feeding orange cloth to the needle.
You stitched arms, legs, and a head… stuffing the hollow tubes with straw. Hair made out of hay; you took the time to dye it black. Taking a step back to admire your handiwork, you couldn’t help but realize the lifeless doll you had created would make good boyfriend material.
Maybe your imagination got the better of you when sewing the face on…
Partners were hard to come by out here. You liked living on the farm, herding cows, and tending to wheat. But the quietness of it all consumed you. Some days, while pulling weeds from wheat fields, you spoke to the lifeless ragdoll you hooked to a poll. Shooing any bird that dared to pick at the loose straw sticking from his neck.
You named him Michael. Michael, the protector of you and your farmland. That night, after you pecked the sun-kissed cloth of Michael’s cheek, you prepared for bed, looking forward to another day of pulling weeds and rambling to a sack of hay and thread.
From the cracked window came a sweet melody, cradling you from your sleep to the window's edge. When you looked out to the sprawling grain field, the pole that Michael once sat motionless on was now moving. Well, wriggling.
You rubbed your eyes; were you still dreaming? No… this was too real for that. You dashed out of the house in a quilted robe, treading through the night to reach the sweet song calling through you.
That’s when you met Michael. Button eyes filled with a light that only seemed possible from the sun's reflection.
You had to teach Scarecrow!michael how to walk. For the first couple of days you couldn't help but find his stuttering movements cute as he made his way to you with outstretched arms. You were worried his clinginess would fade with time; what an irrational fear. Michael is practically your shadow!
Speaking didn’t seem to be a problem for scarecrow!michael. He spoke…a lot. Making up for the times he couldn’t respond to you while you told the most amazing tales about your life. Time he dubbed “torture.”
Scarecrow!michael smells like wheat and faint bread from following you around the kitchen so much.
Scarecrow!michael takes the title of “protector of the farmhouse and YOU” very seriously. Whenever the mailboy drives down to the farm, he’s quickly chased away by Michael’s hollers. Sure, he was uncanny to others, but to you? He was adorable! As for the birds desperate to feast on your carrots? You haven’t seen them for months.
Scarecrow!michael doesn’t need to sleep. He just… powers down. Unfortunately, you found this out at night while wrapped in his arms; turning over to get snug, you heard a faint "Is it morning yet?" and cracked your eyes open to see Michael's piercing eyes staring at you. After that night you had to set strict rules for when Michael could wake you up. Now, he roams the property and tidies up any loose ends you forgot in the day. Always slipping back to bed for sunrise.
Scarecrow!michael tried to prank you one day by sleeping, since it's hard to discern rest and lifelessness through button eyes. When he didn't respond, you feared the miracle that had brought him to life faded. The moment tears well in your eyes and begin to darken the fabric of his cheeks, the comedy of the prank shatters, and Michael instantly moves to comfort you. “Sorry, love…I didn't mean it. I'm here," he murmurs, cloth arms wrapping around your waist.
Just like sleeping, Scarecrow!michael doesn't need to eat. In fact, he can't. He doesn't have organs. But he does like the smell of your baking and making you feel good, so he's tried to eat your bread far too many times to count. Every time he attempts to swallow, the mushed-up crumbs fall right through the hay of his neck. And every time it does, he hides his face behind his hands, muttering a weak, “m’sorry.”
While snooping around for books one day, Scarecrow!michael found photos of your ex and grew insecure of his appearance. What if he didn’t look human enough for you? That evening you found him trying to stitch ears onto his head. You quickly reminded him that he's specially made for you and no other, putting his worries to rest.
You can hear Scarecrow!michael coming by the shuffling fabric and the smell of daisies he rolled in to impress you.
Scarecrow!michael gives scratchy but heartfelt hugs. His kisses tickle a little. You thank yourself every day for using cushy fabric when the two of you start sharing a bed, or you'd be itching all night.
Scarecrow!michael is very light (a result of being made of straw) You have to lock him indoors whenever it’s windy or he’ll blow away. All it took for him to comply was "If you fly away, we won’t be together anymore," and he sat right back down.
Because straw makes up Michael's body fat (if you can even call it that...) is a playground for weevils and mites to find their way in his hair and stuffing, so, like the wonderful girlfriend you are, you pluck them out for him.
Scarecrow!michael sometimes envies the idea that he'll never be a human, like you. With skin that warms on its own, eyes that dart around, hair coily and soft to the touch… that is until he realized he could change his appearance with a needle and twine. A discovery that made lovemaking all that more interesting as Michael toyed around with the sizes and shapes of his length.
Scarecrow!michael gets extremely flustered whenever you pick him up and carry him to your bedroom. You knew you had to be a little dominant when it came to Michael or he'd never catch the hint. You were pleasantly surprised when he dropped his patchy pants to reveal the modifications he made while you were busy in the garden beds. You didn't exactly sew him with pleasure in mind, but he made do.
Scarecrow!michael's libido is insane. He can go till sunrise—making love to you. But he knows you need your rest. So, like the gentleman he is, Michael lets you come down from a high of god knows how many orgasms at 2am.
Big giver. Scarecrow!michael gets off on hearing you wail and moan under him. Your pussy is the one thing he can truly eat.
Grovelled whenever you say, “I'm just going to get a few things," because he knows you'll be away from him for the rest of the day in town. “Please don't go; I'll get them myself." He clings to your leg, forcing you to drag your feet as you pull him against the floor towards the door. “Mikey, it's only a few hours you'll live.”
When you come back, you find the house glistening from top to bottom. Michael happily waits by the entrance as you take it all in. “Y’sure you won't leave again?” You giggle and kiss him in response.
If leaving for a few hours got you serenaded and pressed into the bed, why wouldn't you do it again? The added bonus is you can tick “buy fuel” off your to-do list!
Hungry 4 more?
a/n I'm have TOOO much fun.... this was a side quest I didn't see myself making but 300 words became 1k and here we are
I'm starting to realize that mjtmblr has NOOOO au's so heres some ideas that I have for au's (that I def won't do....👀) cause I have drafts to finish
king!michael (c'mon we need more ppl), jester!michael, commander!michael (inspo...), zookeeper!michael, racer!michael (inspo he would NOT be a trusted driver but I think that would make him unstoppable), photographer!michael but he's a loser introvert trying to understand the world through his artwork, sailor!michael (inspo), DND!micahel who is a bard (inspo), receiptionist!michael x popstar!reader (reader captivated by michael's voice alone), panther!michael (based off black & white video), pilot!michael (inspo), makeup artist!michael x singer!reader (he uses his experience of matching/hiding his vitiligo to help you).
And so many more guys think outside the box. PLEASEEE I WANT TO READ IT
Go outside of the box! (Speaking from the writer that's doing other!Michael) be creative! Be magical! Write it even if you think its stupid because I thought other!Michael was 'eh' until I posted the headcannons and first chapter of 'The Other Husband'
Synopsis: Michael treats reader as his girlfriend!
Notes: fluff, michael has a crush on reader, black!fem reader
wc: 770
Michael had always been sneaky with his kisses, especially placing small, quick pecks near your lips and pretending he’s off to somewhere in a scurry. “See y’ later, honey! Don’t wait up.” The kiss nearing your lip was quick— something you didn’t think further on. You're so accustomed to his sly kisses that you’ve brushed it off as friends greeting each other or bidding goodbyes, but Michael on the other hand— Oh, how he wished it was much longer than that short kiss he planted on you.
Michael’s love for you doesn’t go unnoticed by others. The small, sweet gestures like holding your hand. The bedazzled crystal thumb of his glove rubbing small, soothing circles on your hand whenever you’re at an awards ceremony in support with him. He knows you hate the cameras and spotlight, it’s the simple things like that that makes others assume you both are each other’s lovers.
“Michael’s sure all over her,” his brother Marlon making his presence known as he spots you two working on a puzzle together. “I see why everybody thinks you two are together. I mean, y’all both are cute together now.” Marlon states while making kissy sounds. “Marlon, leave us alone!” Michael yelled, chasing him into the foyer of Hayvenhurst.
You were also unaware of what other people are seeing in you and Michael’s. “It’s all platonic.” “There’s nothin’ goin’ on, guys.” The people around you would just shrug and change the subject like it was nothing, the majority of the party not believing you.
“Michael?” You scurried into his private studio, his soft humming mimicking a beat stops abruptly.
“Yes, baby?” He looked up from his notepad with genuine concern lingering in his eyes. “Something’s bothering you?”
“Everybody’s thinks we’re dating,” you laughed but Michael kept a straight face. “Ain’t that ridiculous, Mike?”
“That’s what you’re comin’ in here in a hurry for? Girl, I thought it was somethin’ important.” Michael chuckled and pulled you into his lap, your back flushed against his chest, his thumb rubbing your hand in careful strokes.
“Make them think. Let their heads hurt at the assumptions they’re tryna build up in regards to our relationship. We know what we are, and that’s important, right?” You sighed. “You’re right, Michael. That’s all that matters.” Michael hummed in agreement. You both sat in silence until he spoke up.
“Wanna hear a song i’m makin’, sweet girl? You can only listen to a few seconds of it.” A song that he’s dedicating to you on his new album, Thriller.
Months later after Michael’s album Thriller became a huge commercial hit, he was around you more often. Coming to your home to check on you and bring food, riding around with him and Bill as you explore the California nightlife scene eating sugary snacks along the way.
“Mike,” Michael hummed around the fork you were feeding him cake with. Right now, you both are at a rented out restaurant feeding each other. How romantic. Michael’s inner voice complimented.
“Y’know, earlier today Jan and Toya told me you wrote “The Lady In My Life.” about me, is that true?” Michael backed away from the fork and wiped his mouth, nodding his head.
“Why would you listen to anything my sisters say?” Michael whined, jutting his bottom lip out.
“Because, Mike, it's cute! I will admit. I love the song more than anything else. You put so much of you into this track. So much soul and that it’s admirable, honey.” Michael felt his heart racing and butterflies dancing in his stomach. The beads of sweat dripping down his temple has him thinking, is it the beaming lights or the confession of you liking a song he’s dedicated to you.
“Let’s go home. I wanna slow dance to my favorite song. I also got a new record player!” You beamed, grabbing his hand as he threw a generous amount of money on the table.
“I could’ve gotten you that new record player, y’know.” Michael scoffed; you rolled your eyes at him.
“I saved up for this, Michael! And I wanted to surprise you.” Michael cooed as he saw your bright smile plastered on your face. The moonlight shone on your bronze skin, the silhouette of your afro and curvy frame following you both on the brick wall. Michael’s love for you intensified that night. From the little date, riding around him all day, the sweet, sultry song that came out months ago. Michael is where he’s wanted to be. He’s very jubilant and tonight will be the night you’ll know how you make everyday in his life worth living.
my cutest fic ever! i hope you all enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3
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