damned | michael. j
pairing: michael jackson x f! black reader
synopsis: the two biggest artists in the world have been compared to each other ever since childhood. what's the worst that can happen between friendly rivals who get a little too tipsy after a big award night?
tags: bad!era mike, black reader, childhood acquaintances to lovers, conflicted feelings & yearning, lighthearted rivals, alcohol use, making out, smut, switch!michael, oral (f), fingering, creampie, slight breeding kink(?)
wc: 5.1k
based on the song damned by miguel + michael’s ama 1989 look
notes: hii first full length fic for michael!! i saw too many edits of him to this song and it just sparked this… hope you guys enjoy! this was proofread but if there’s grammatical errors, i apologize!
California, 1970s.
Michael was high on the success of his first solo album and the breakthrough he was making on his own. He had plans for his visuals and short films, eager to share with the world his creative vision.
Around this time you had begun to find your own footing in the industry as a soloist, your path following similar to Michael's. You grew up as a Motown artist alongside your two older sisters, your trio becoming a household name by the time you were seven. You were two years younger than Michael but the comparisons were strong. Both very young leads of your respective groups with voices of gold.
Once you were in your mid teens, you couldn't escape the comparisons and you and your sisters were forced to do appearances alongside Michael and his brothers. You were fifteen and growing irritable with the need to group you with the fellow child star. You personally liked Michael and his gentle personality, but hated when others compared your talents.
Off The Wall came out months after your solo album had broken endless records, with Michael catching up closely to you.
"Ah! I congratulated her on the success of her album!" He quipped to an interviewer for one of the very few press releases he agreed to. "She's been a dear friend of mine ever since childhood. Our musical paths tend to align so I'm always looking forward to what's next for her."
Your careers were an endless cycle of comparison, lasting all the way until the moment Michael broke through with Thriller. A part of you felt slight resentment towards him for being the first black artist to truly crossover internationally. You followed shortly after, however you didn't sell as much as Thriller had. You were always in Michael's shadow to some extent, the second most selling album of time title haunting you as every interviewer asked the million dollar question—how did it feel being second best to Michael?
It felt like a punch in the gut to your artistry, though you never despised Michael himself for it. Not when a part of your heart was reserved for him, something he could never know.
AMA '89 night
A decade after your solo breakthrough, you appear on the American Music Awards red carpet, smiling brightly as you wave and pose for the blinding flare of cameras.
"This way darling!" The paparazzi call out, wanting the best shots of your frame fitting champagne colored dress. It shimmered under the lighting, pairing well against your skin tone.
You finish up your shots, blowing a kiss towards the press, and are led off the carpet by your personal assistant Lia, who rambles about all the stars you have to be seen with that night.
"As always, the press wants to see the King and Queen of pop together. Make sure to spend some time with Michael at any point tonight." You knew this was coming. You couldn't ever escape Michael if you were at the same event. Your stomach twists at the thought of him, as you zone out on Lia's words the moment she brought him up.
"Hey, did you hear a word I just said?" She says your name with a ounce of irritation and you glance at her with a sheepish smile.
"Nope. Something about formalities with other stars, especially Michael." She nods at you while guiding you towards your table for the ceremony.
"Alright well, at least you caught the most important part. I believe he should be seated somewhere near you so it'll be easy to just give him a quick hug, smile, kiss on the cheek like you always do and keep pushing." Her afro bounces as she whips her head around, searching for your table as you stop occasionally, greeting your fellow peers.
"Yes, that'll be easy." You speak through gritted teeth, finally continuing your conversation after cutting through the crowd.
"I know how much you despise him-"
"But I don't." You toss a glance her way as you sit down at your spot, a large ‘32’ on the table signifying the assigned table.
She sighs and nods unconvincingly. "Sure. Anyways, he's at table 35 I heard. Make yourself known at some point with him. I want it to be front page news tomorrow." She points a warning finger at you as your raise your hands in defense, laughing at her.
"You're the boss!" She smiles at you before disappearing off to another table. You're joined by a few familiar faces, grinning as you hug your close friend, Whitney.
"So glad you're here with me, dear. If I have to sit near another one of these rock bands I'm gonna lose it." She whispers as you hug, making your body shake with laughter.
You sit through the award show casually sipping on your cocktail, smiling when the camera panned to you, and getting up to hug Whitney each time she had won.
You held your breath as the winner for Favorite Pop/Rock Male Artist was about to be announced, a category Michael was nominated for.
When George Michael's name was called, you couldn't help and look towards Michael, his face adorning a smile as he clapped. Your heart nearly fell to your stomach when his eyes shift over towards you, two tables over. You look away, attempting to avoid his burning gaze.
You were called onto the AMA stage five times that night, sweeping every category you were nominated in. As you give your fifth speech of the night, your eyes land on Michael who stared in adoration, his eyes nearly sparkling like your dress.
You hate how a simple glance makes your stomach do flips, nearly throwing off your speech midway. You step off stage with a grin, and are met with a choir of congratulations as you return to your seat. A brief commercial break ensues, giving you a moment to recompose yourself before the cameras flared back up.
That moment is quickly ruined when you feel a hand brush against your shoulder. Turning, you see Michael looking down at you, his infectious smile crossing his face. He leans down, bringing his lips close to your ear to speak.
"Thought I'd come by and congratulate you." He pulls back enough to see your face as your eyebrow quirks up. You recognize the flashing appearing around you as the press snapped photos of their two biggest stars interacting. You ignore it, reaching for Michael so his ear is near your mouth, mimicking his actions moments ago.
"You can never let me approach you first can you? Always gotta one up me." You tease with a playful smirk forming on your lips. He chuckles and lowers once more, his breath fanning against your ear and neck.
"Seems only right considering you're the big winner tonight. Good sportsmanship is important to me." He stays close this time, watching you carefully. The venue was booming, the chatter of the crowd ringing in your ears— yet the pound of your heart seemed to overpower it all.
Your musical rivalry was more on the playful, almost flirtatious, side of things. You know Michael is a Virgo perfectionist and your ego and passion for greatness are two forces that clashed, and yet the two of you remained friends regardless.
"Thank you for the congratulations, Michael. I hope to see you on that stage tonight too." You spoke directly to him this time, his eyes filtering across your face. His large palm squeezes your knee as a thanks, goosebumps forming from his touch. He gets up just as the cue that commercial break was over began. You watch him with precision, catching the way he looks your way once more after sitting down, not expecting to see you already looking. A faint smirk crosses his faces before he looks down and you turn back towards the stage with a slow sip of your drink.
When he accepts his Lifetime Achievement award later that evening, you stand as you clap to show your support. His eyes cut across the crowd while he speaks, addressing the whole room with his gratitude, yet you make eye contact multiple times throughout his speech. He has to be messing with you…
The awards wrap shortly after Michael's award and you catch Lia approaching you mid conversation with Lionel Richie. She waits patiently beside you to finish your conversation, instantly grabbing your hand after you hug him.
"Alright now Mrs. social butterfly," You scoff at her remark. "We have an after party to attend! We're heading back to the hotel to change and arrive fashionably late. You'll be the talk of the night!" Lia smiles brightly at you, guiding you through the crowd towards your valet.
"I'm not showing up in this dress?" You questioned, waving at the cameras trying to capture a good shot of you.
"Girl, no. That's the point of afterparties, to come in a second show stopping outfit! For the Queen of Pop, you have to give them your absolute best." Your security secures you and opens the door of your car for you as you and Lia slide in.
"Is Michael already there?" You tilt your head. She looks away momentarily before holding your gaze once more, a hint of timidity behind it.
"No."
You groan knowing he's going to show up around the same time as you. Your spotlight will be stolen and grouped with your counterpart—once again.
"Great."
"Look right here, gorgeous!"
The paparazzi was starving— famished even, when you step out of your car, thanking your security as he holds out a hand for you to take.
You left behind the tight, floor length, sparkling champagne dress and opted for a shorter cut backless dress. There were gold chains connecting along the open back of the bright red number, making you feel oh so sexy.
Smiling, you walk into the afterparty feeling victorious. You managed to evade a clash with Michael, earning your own entrance.
You take in the glamor of the nightclub that's decorated beautifully for the musicians, before you hear Whitney's voice behind you. Your stomach does a flip when you see her with her arm looped over Michael's shoulder, grinning widely at you. Michael's gaze feels heavy, giving you a once over while bitting his bottom lip. You feel ill every time you see him do it, not realizing how attractive he looks.
"Hey girl! Glad you could finally join us, we gotta get you caught up!" Whitney removes her hold on Michael and decides to latch onto you now, steering you towards a more private section. "C'mon now, Michael!"
You feel warm knowing he's getting a full view of your back and you risk a glance behind you. His eyes are locked onto the small of your back so intensely he doesn't notice you've caught him until the last second, his eyes traveling up to yours before quickly looking away in embarrassment.
The smug look on your face remains throughout the night, knowing each time you glanced Michael's direction, he was already staring or acting as if he wasn't a second ago. Your prestigious group took shots and passed a bottle of champagne back and forth throughout the night, while also getting up to dance and socialize with other celebrities.
You can feel the alcohol in your system, not quite drunk but definitely tipsy, when you came back to your private section, sashaying your hips past Michael. His hand reaches for your wrist, grabbing your attention. You turn to him, the low crease of his eyelids showing he was intoxicated. He says something you can't catch under the pound of the music and lean down to his earlobe.
"What was that?" He pulls you closer to him, his hand moving to your waist, making you fight off a shiver.
"Come dance with me!" He looks at you excitedly, chewing his gum with a delectable grin.
"C'mon, ain't no press in here girl."
His words are enough to get you onto the lower floor, moving your body along to 'It Takes Two', Michael moving alongside you rhythmically. You enjoy seeing Michael dance so casually, different from the calculated, perfected routines he did on stage.
His hands find a hold on your waist, gripping you tightly while your arms link around his neck. The heat between the two of you begins to feel noticeable, as if it was tangible. Something a tension that only two decades of yearning can create.
You rock your hips, the feeling of Michael's proximity and the buzz tingling through your body from the music and alcohol, gives you the courage to gaze up into his already dark state. The quiet, reserved Michael you tend to know wasn't the same man standing before you with a fire lit behind his irises. Your lips part in a genuine display of shock, admiring the way he's making you feel seen by him, finally.
You detach from his hold slightly to turn your back to him, stepping close to him as you sway your hips seductively. You don't get the chance to see the way his bottom lip gets sucked between his teeth, nor the faint sound that leaves his lips upon feeling you press against him.
His hands find a place low on your hips as you practically throw your ass back on him, your back flush against his chest.
"I got an image to uphold, dear. You keep that up and we're gonna be front page news." He spoke lowly in your ear, his soft tone earning a sly grin from you as you turn back to face him. You grip the side of his face, bringing him towards his ear to speak freely.
"We're front page news either way. Let's give them something good."
Your playful comment has him dragging you towards the door, making a pit stop at the phone to call your security detail.
"Hey, Sam it's me. Send my car back to the hotel."
You expect the shutter of the cameras when the two of you rush out of the dark nightclub, shouts and hollers from the media trying to gather either of yours attention.
"Michael! Our king and queen! Over here!"
He holds the door open to his car, ushering you inside before following right behind, slamming the door. You're both in a fit of giggles as the driver asks Michael where to. He composes himself enough to direct him back to his hotel before the divider slides shut with a mechanical whir.
"For someone so particular about his image, you seemed to let go just for a second there." You tilt your head at him, catching the shy Michael start to creep back in when his eyes drop to his lap briefly.
"Yeah… That's what a bit of a buzz and twenty years of-" He cuts himself off, eyes going wide. You glance at him confused, catching a battle wage across his features.
"Mikey, what's wrong? Twenty years of…?" You question using his nickname reserved just for you, one you called him when you were younger.
His big brown eyes meet yours anxiously, a shy grin spreading. "It's what twenty years of being in love with you will do." He finishes faintly, his eyes struggling to keep contact with your own shocked, bright ones. If you were anyone else, his aviators would have been on, unable to fully get a glimpse of his vulnerability.
"We're so incredibly stupid," You huff a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You thought about how the feelings you harbored for years that were disguised as mutual respect, or sometimes resentment, were a way to keep yourself guarded. "I've been ignoring how I feel for you since I was fourteen, Mikey."
His eyes nearly pop out of his head at your revelation, his hands flying to your knees that are turned towards him.
"You're not fooling with me are you?" He speaks your name with such delicacy it makes you feel lightheaded. You shake your head, planting your hands on top of his.
"I could never. I don't think…anyone else could understand me in the way you always have." You nearly knock the wind out of Michael's lungs, as his grin grows wider.
"I've…I've always felt the same way," He flips his hands to squeeze your own. "You have no idea how many songs of mine you've helped produce." His voice drops in the slightest, illuminating the underlying meaning in his words. You feel a fire ignite in your belly, taking a hand and dragging it up to his chest to spur a reaction.
"Oh yeah? Which ones?"
"That's a secret." His voice came out soft as he spoke, his bright, toothy smile making you reflect back at him in the same way with an airy laugh. "May I… kiss you?" He asked gently, cupping your face with his large palm. His gaze is pure adoration, fixating on your plump lips before connecting back at eyes.
You answer him simply by closing the distance, your lips connecting like the final pieces of a puzzle. You sigh against his lips, pure bliss filling your senses as he grips your waist, moving his lips gently with yours. When he pulls away to watch your face, he hovers close enough to feel your breaths puff across his face.
"The Lady in my Life." He says, looking into your eyes with a careful glint.
"What… What about it?" You nearly whisper, toying a finger into his jheri curl.
"I wrote that for you. The Lady in my Life will always be you."
You don't give him a second to think before you're crashing your lips into his, full of passion and desire this time. He lets out a muffled noise, finally moving along with you. Staying connected, you climb into his lap, settling perfectly there. He already is half-hard, stirring a whine from you as you grind your hips down into him, his own grip gliding you against him.
You seperate for a moment to take a gulp of air before diving back into each other, your center meeting his own with a suppressed moan. He began to tug on your bottom lip just as the car slowed to a complete stop, halting your actions. Michael pulls away with a groan, resting his forehead against your own as you try to catch your breaths.
"We got maybe 30 seconds before they open that door. We should make ourselves presentable." He sighs against you, closing his eyes briefly as if he was relishing in the moment. You slide off his lap, readjusting your dress and wiping the lipstick from off your face as Michael straightened out his rumpled shirt, playing with his hair to look put together again.
By the time you make it through the threshold of his room, you're practically throwing yourself on him again, his noise of surprise becoming muffled between your lips as he locks the door behind him with one hand, the other slotted at your hip. He breaks away and directs you towards the bed, swatting at your ass once as he admires the design of your backless dress.
You sat on the plush king sized bed, looking up at Michael seductively as he slowly approaches you. "Gonna be shy with me, Mikey?" You tease, an eyebrow raised.
A knowing, sly grin spreads on his face as he stands before you, bringing a hand under your chin to tilt up towards him.
"Not when I've been.. burning… with desire for you for this long." Goosebumps form on your skin from his words just as he leans down, pressing his soft lips to yours.
You pull him on top of you, immediately comforted by the feel of his weight against you. The kiss held the same intensity displayed in the car, with Michael gently spreading your legs wider to nestle against your core. You moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips into yours painstakingly slow, his teeth pulling at your bottom lip as he pulls away, leaving a trail of kisses long your neck.
You try to shift your hips up, connecting with his clothed hardness and both groaning in sync. Your panties were sticking to you now, creating a wet patch on Michael's designer pants from where you met.
"Mikey, baby." He hums into your neck in response, working his way down to kiss down the valley of your breasts. "I need you to touch me. So bad."
You feel his smile against your skin as he traveled lower, your cocktail dress fully bunched up around your waist now. He kisses your inner thighs, shifting from one leg to the other, before you feel him right at your center, dragging a long finger along your soaked pussy. You whine and frantically grab at the sheets next to you, peering down at him as he presses a kiss against your covered folds. He loops his fingers around the thin material and with a slight raise of your hips, is able to drag them down fully. He groans at the sight of you spread out so bare for him and you can't help but spread wider.
"You have such a pretty pussy, prettier than I imagined." The word sounds vulgar coming from his sweet mouth, which turns you on even more, sending a fresh wave of arousal down to your pussy in response.
"Can I taste you, sweet girl?" He asks, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin closest to your aching core. You frantically nod your head, forcing out a yes just as frantic, eager to feel him on you. He smiles at your desperation before he dips down, licking a long stripe straight up to your clit. You jolt and cry out, feeling his warm tongue flick along your clit, wasting no time in leaving you a withering mess. He gazes up to watch your every reaction, enjoying the way your lips are between your teeth before you fall back against the bed, pushing your hips up into his mouth.
He alternates between burying his tongue deep in your hole and pleasuring your clit, his nose bumping against you and stimulating you even more. Your hands are in his curls, keeping him in place as he slurps up every drop of your essence, wanting nothing more than to feel you gush around his face.
He works a finger in while sucking on your sensitive bud, earning a moan from you. The stretch was making you delirious, whining about how much you needed his cock.
"Not till you finish for me." He speaks against you, sending vibrations to your stomach. You feel the familiar twist in your gut signaling you're close to your climax, mumbling how close you are when a second finger goes in, scissoring you open for him.
"Mikey… I… Please…" You plead, just desperately searching for your release. His tongue and finger moves in tandem, moving quickly to bring you to your peak. Michael grinds his hips into the bed, searching for friction while your legs begin to shake above him, the tightrope inside of you snapping. You cry out his name, grinding your hips into his face as you ride out the waves of release, Michael groaning into your pussy as your slick leaks all over his tongue.
His movements still as you catch your breath, still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. The loss of his fingers from your hole nearly makes you whine before the sight of him takes your breath away.
His eyes sparkle at you while he wipes your juices from his face, cheeks lightly flushed and his curls a mess from your grip. He slides his fingers into your mouth and you suck on the digits, holding eye contact while swirling your tongue along the finger pads, eliciting a soft moan from him. He pulls them out and makes quick work of pulling your dainty dress over your head, your full body on display for him as he watches in awe.
"Are you gonna join me or do I have to rip all of this off you myself?" You question with a tug on his trousers. His suit jacket was already lost earlier, making it easier to pop open his buttons while you pry off the heavy belt around his waist. Your hands are on his zipper before he lays a hand on top of yours, opting to do it himself.
"You just lay your pretty self right there." He speaks sweetly, his eyes carrying a shadow of nervousness that's mostly masked behind the profound lust. You've known Michael all your life— you know he's feeling shyer now.
You're about to speak before the sight of him in all of his glory has your mouth opening. You hone in at the sheer size and girth of him before glancing up at him, his lip between his teeth as he feels uneasy under your heavy gaze.
"Mikey, what happened to you not getting shy on me?" You offer a faux pout as he huffs a laugh.
"I'm not… I mean not really it's just… you know, I've liked you for so long and- and I can't believe-" You shut him up sitting up on your knees and dragging him towards the bed, gently pushing him back onto the soft mattress next to you. His eyes flash with shock, opening his mouth to speak before you plant a finger over his lips, looking down at him with an eyebrow quirked.
"I've thought about this probably as much as you have," You state simply, watching his wide eyes light up. "For the love of everything good, if I don't ride you right now, I'll go insane."
He nods as if his mouth had gone dry and scoots towards the middle of the bed. You swing a leg around him, straddling his lap as his hard dick pokes against your lower stomach. You grab him and begin to line the tip up with your leaking hole, his breaths growing heavy under you.
"Relax, pretty boy. Gonna make you feel real good." You purr right as you start to sink down, his mouth hanging open from the feel of your walls going down on him.
You ease down his thick length, pausing to accommodate to the stretch. Micheal's hands come to your waist, gently caressing you in encouragement. You sink all the way down with a moan, Michael whimpering as you pulsate around him. You give an experimental drag of your hips, lifting up and sinking back down once, making him moan loudly.
You start to bounce, steadying yourself with a grip on his shoulders as you slide down his length, both of your moans filling the room. His hands are gripped iron tight on your waist, watching with glazed over eyes as you ride his dick, the slick sounds your bodies produce becoming music to your ears.
You clench around him when he squeezes your ass, making him choke out a strangled noise of pleasure. You’re grinning in pure bliss, the stretch of his cock better than you ever imagined, your pussy leaking around him in response. When his cock hits you at a certain angle, you double over into his chest with a cry.
"Right there was good?" He questions, brows furrowing. You nod and don't notice his shift in demeanor until he starts pounding into you from below, eager to help you reach that spot again. The smack of skin on skin fills the room as he ravishes you from below, his large palms guiding you down to meet his thrusts by gripping your ass tightly.
You moan his name and squeeze him tightly as he fucks up into you, roughly smacking your ass. You leave a white creamy ring around his dick as you ride him, his hand connecting with your ass once more after seeing your reaction, crying out for more. Your clit rubs against his pelvic bone with each thrust, sending sensations to your aching clit. You rub the sensitive bud while Michael reaches for your breast bouncing in his face, squeezing the flesh there.
"Riding me so good… oh god… you're sinful." He nibbles at your earlobe as he talks into your ear, building up your second orgasm of the night. Your cunt squelches embarrassing loud but you're too fucked out to even care, moaning as you feel your peak approaching with each drag of Michael's cock.
"Mikey, I'm so close!" You cry out, feeling his dick hit deeply inside of you. His own soft moans and whimpers bring you to your release as you tighten around him, throwing your head back with a loud moan. He doesn't let up his pace as you ride out your orgasm, shaking as he pounds into your dripping walls desperately, chasing his own release.
He's about to pull you off him as his climax approaches, but you keep your legs firm around him, squeezing your walls tightly around him and sinking down on his cock to meet his thrusts. "Inside of me, let me milk you baby." You say with a drag of your hand along his chest.
He looses it at the thought of filling you with his seed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his dick twitches, hot ropes of cum spilling out of him with a cry of your name.
You stay on top of him for a while, catching your breaths. His hand is firm on your back, gently sliding soothing patterns up and down your skin. You pull off of him shortly after, leaning back to let him watch his cum slowly drip out of your hole and onto the sheets. You take your finger and stuff the rest back into you, making Michael groan at the filthy sight.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman." He sighs, giving a completely fucked out smile at you.
"The headlines tomorrow may take you out before I ever do." You tease, knowing the press were having a field day seeing the two of you get into the same car earlier.
"The King and Queen of pop finally together? Could be worse things to write about." He looks at you playfully, turning your hand over to plant a kiss at the back of it.
"They're already planning our wedding details!" You giggle, not catching the way his eyes falter for a second.
"Did you miss the lyrics in The Lady in my Life? I've been envisioning it."
You tackle him, littering his face with kisses as he cackles like a young kid, giddy that he finally had you in his arms.
And for the rest of his life, he silently prays.
note 2: mrs. young freak ho is back 😇 idk yall something about switch but sub leaning mike just do it for me… expect more of this from me i like my men #submissive LOL.











