girrrllfrieeennnddd | mj
otw!michael jackson x f!popstar!reader
this is part 3 of my 'mr steal yo girl' series! click here for the rest pt 1 and 2
synopsis: after a night in the studio with michael, you return for your cassette, and leave with a boyfriend.
content: otw!mike, again i imagined a black reader, but there aren't physical features explicitly said! 18+ mdni! a lot a fluff with a dash of smut at the end (my first and probably last time writing detailed smut this was so difficult for me), a likkle oral, f!receiving (michael being a real mf eater) but its real classy and cute, slightly jealous!mike, soft dom!mike (i think? actually not really) slight edging (if you squint)... whatever just know that michael is holding your hand through it. no use of y/n.
wc: ~3.1k
notes: last part of a series!!! long overdue. hope you enjoy 𑣲
the night you went home after recording your demo with Michael, you broke up with your boyfriend.
you were now a free girl, no longer tied down by a relationship that didn’t serve you. in fact, it benefited the both of you in the end. he could go and fuck half of california while you figured out things with michael.
the break up was cathartic. for the first time in a long time, your ex was the one absorbing all of your insults, all of your complaints. you gave it to him straight as you were packing your things. you told him that you were no longer under his spell, and that you were no longer going to be complacent in your own misery.
his face was stoic the entire time, save for the stubborn smirk he had that you wanted to smack off. but you could tell his ego was as bruised as spoiled fruit. he nodded indifferently to your passionate rambling, probably dreaming up ways to make the band’s upcoming studio sessions a living hell for you. but you didn’t care. holding a box of your things, you told him you deserved more, before closing the door, leaving behind a three year relationship, and the most draining chapter of your life.
you purposefully left out the only piece of information that may have gotten a rise of your ex: that about thirty minutes before you drove to his house, michael had kissed you all over, waking you up from the lull of your rotting relationship. but, despite not telling him that, you had a feeling he knew, or was about to find out very soon.
you were riding that high for days after that night. dressing sexy, going out to bars with your other bandmates and close friends, brushing off curious eyes and dancing your heart out. but you'd also been accidentally brushing off a very impatient and longing michael.
he had been in agony for the past few days, holding on to your promise of later. every knock at his door made his breath hitch. the trill of the home phone ringing made him shiver. and every time he answered, his shoulders would drop in disappointment; it was always either his father, or Quincy, or one of his siblings. anyone, everyone, but you. growing frustrated, he decided to take matters into his own hands and call you up instead.
“you said later.” michael asked, the phone's wire tangled around his finger. you picked up quite fast, which only made him more upset. you could tell from his biting tone.
“what?”
“you said you’d come later. when is that?”
your giggles reached his ears, and he softened. if he could press the phone any harder into his ear, he would have.
“look, are you free now?”
“if you need me to be.”
you smiled at his words. he said it in a way that made you think he wasn’t only referring to this specific moment, like his devotion to you could be redeemed whenever you wanted it to be. he’d always be at your beck and call…
truthfully, you were anxious to see michael again. as each day passed since your last encounter, an uncomfortable pressure loomed over you. there was no narrative to uphold now, and therefore, no excuse to not act on your feelings toward him. nothing holding you back besides this irrational fear paralyzing you.
you knocked on his door. you ran your hands down your outfit, straightening it. you thought you'd change up your outfit to reflect your newfound singleness. no more sexy but restricting bell bottoms that tightened and itched around your legs. today, you wore a nice skirt, with a fitted v-neck blouse that embraced your breasts, pushing them up.
putting your ear to the door, you hear fast-paced footsteps getting louder and headed toward your direction. it opened to reveal a casually-clad michael in a knit sweater. he was heaving. the first thing out of his mouth was--
“you look gorgeous. for a liar.”
“thanks, mi-wait. what did i lie about?”
he rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile beneath his pursed lips. his hand grazed the small of your back as he guided you toward the stairs.
“you said later. and i had to remind you.”
“oh give it up. i’m here, aren’t i?” his hands found its home on your waist, holding you steady as you walked up the stairs.
“i guess," he said, before pulling you into him. with your back against his chest, he leaned into your ear, “i was really looking forward to this, you know.” his breath on your neck gave you pleasant flashbacks from when he had kissed you last time. you were still chasing that high, excited that there was no annoying ex-boyfriend between you now.
he opened the door to his bedroom, and you’re immediately hit with his title track from off the wall playing on his record player.
“what kind of narcissist listens to his own record?” you teased.
“the kind that’ll kick you out of his house if you keep teasin’ me.”
“i see how it is.” you plopped down on his bed. your arms kept you upright, and your legs were crossed, your left foot tapping on his floor. "great album you know. really great album."
michael didn't respond immediately. instead, he sat hunched and crisscrossed on the floor, elbows on his legs, with his chin resting in the palm of his left hand. he took you in. the way your hair rested gently on your shoulders. the way your silhouette towered over him from where he sat. you looked right at home, sitting pretty on his bed. he scoffed in disbelief.
then he remembered you had just said something a moment ago, and he replied. "trying to figure out how to top it."
"i'm sure you'll find it,” you looked around, avoiding his piercing eyes by committing his cluttered, yet homey room to memory as you spoke. “are you in competition with only yourself? like, who’s your standard? your inspiration?”
he thought for a moment, chewing on your words. "i try to only focus on myself, i can only be better than my last record, i think.” you nodded, lazily scanning his bookshelf for any familiar authors while he spoke.
he continued. “i think also, there's a lot of people out there making great music, like you. trying to figure out how i can top you too, you know?" this made you look at him, raising an eyebrow.
"really? you're bold to say it to my face."
"i know. now i have to hold myself accountable."
you laughed softly, before slowly dropping to a frown. your features were relaxed in solemn thought. you wished you were as brazen as michael. truth be told, you felt that your band was becoming directionless.
“ever get scared you’ll never be able to top your last record?” you finally asked.
although there was a lot of success pouring in from your sophomore album, the next project felt like an endless uphill battle. and as the main writer for the group, having just lost your muse, the words that used to flow like rushing water now dripped like a leaky faucet. you haven't written anything since that night in the studio with michael, and that scared you.
michael refused to let those words reach his mind, immediately shaking his head. “that’s not even a.. not even a thought that enters my mind. can i show you something?”
“of course.”
michael jolted up and sped toward his nightstand. a whiff of his cologne hit you. floral yet musky like last time. the warmly lit lamp shook as he ruffled through his drawer, fingers sifting through piles and piles of papers. he pulled out a bunch of papers from his drawers, filled to the brim with sloppy yet passionate handwriting.
“you showed me your process, i’ll show you mine.”
he sat next to you on his bed. you took a closer at the writing. they were affirmations. you looked at him as he ruffled through the pages, holding them up to your face. the white of the paper reflected on your face, enhancing the curious sparkle in your eyes.
“whenever doubt enters my mind, i immediately write these. i can’t fail because i won’t fail.” he looked at you, holding his breath until you reacted.
but the right words didn’t exist to convey how fascinated you were by him. by his mind, by his thought. when you guys would encounter each other in passing, you would always noticed him buried in his thoughts, and now you were getting a glimpse into why. his confidence was inspiring, his ambition even more impressive. while you were coasting through success without direction, he was crafting his reality carefully, as if his life was a lump of clay waiting for calloused hands to mold it into something greater. “wow,” was all you managed to utter breathlessly.
"speaking of great things, your cassette," michael said, off the bed and rummaging through his drawer again. "i took the liberty of labeling it for you."
he handed you your demo, and placed his affirmations back in his drawer. he sat back down on the floor. mouth still agape, you huffed at the label for the cassette. he wrote ‘masterpiece’ on it, and attached with a piece of tape was a letter of his affirmations for you. you skimmed through them, looking at him in disbelief. of course the one that stuck out to you in the moment was: 'you are talented, you will continue to grow in your success'. it was as if he read your mind.
"thank you michael, seriously. this all means a lot." you put the cassette and note in your purse for safe keeping, thinking of the exact place its going on your vanity when you get home.
the next track of his album started playing: girlfriend. you smirked at the slight irony.
"why'd you leave so early the last time we saw each other?" michael asked. now he was avoiding eye contact, his stack of records apparently way more interesting than studying your features.
there it was. the conversation that you both weren't necessarily avoiding, but were definitely putting off. the underbelly of tension had revealed itself, and suddenly michael's huge room felt arms length.
"uh… because… it didn't feel right kissing you when i had a boyfriend."
his response was immediate. “i didn’t mind.” the intent was to reassure you, but you couldn’t help but feel a little pity.
“well, i did. it felt wrong doing that to him.”
"even though he treats you like crap?" he laughed bitterly. his tongue might have bursted from his cheek if he pushed it any harder.
"even then, yeah." you weren't too surprised that he knew about your tumultuous relationship with your now ex boyfriend. he wasn't exactly hiding his infidelity well. you both had frequently been caught by paparazzi in heated arguments in your home, and word must have traveled around in the industry.
"it's not really about his feelings, it's just that i know how that felt when i was being cheated on, and it felt really awful, and embarrassing. i would never want to be caught up in that." you swallowed hard. “i didn't want what we were doing to go any further without breaking it off with him. in a weird way i owed that to him. and i owed that to you, too."
you leaned in toward him, searching his face for any hint of what he might be feeling. "don't you agree, michael? you wouldn't have been okay with sneaking around, right? i've been there, it gets really.. really draining."
"i guess so." he went quiet for a long moment, the excruciatingly relevant lyrics of 'girlfriend' were the only thing filling the silence. he’d follow you anywhere, do anything for you. he’d be a well kept secret for you if that was what you wished. but then he thought of how great it would be to have you on his arm publicly, too.
he inched his way toward your legs, making your heart skip several beats. "so you're done with him? for good?"
"yeah, he's with his ex now, i'm sure. or.. some other broad."
"so, does that mean i can go any further, now?" he was on his knees, hands anxiously rubbing his jean-clad thighs. he was looking up at you, with those wide and eternally sad eyes. you shifted on his bed. you were excited for what being freshly single meant for you and michael, but you weren't expecting it to happen this fast.
"if you really wanted to," you replied, already breathless.
"could i do this?" his hands slowly hiked your skirt up a bit, pooling it around your hips.
"yeah..." your legs, once crossed, unraveled under his touch.
"and this…" his hands gently grazed your thighs, and your breath hitched. he lifted each leg and put it over his shoulder. naturally, you crossed them around his back, the weight of your legs pushing him closer into you.
"sure..."
you heard him swallow. you scanned his face, tense and calculated. you smiled at how careful he was with you.
"and if i kissed you right there..." he planted a kiss on your left thigh, and then another, and then another, traveling upwards. he could feel the heat of your core from where he was, and it made him tingle. he never thought he'd be in this position. at your will, but simultaneously with so much power over you, so much to offer you, so much to make you feel.
"yeah," your replies were getting quieter and more raspy by the minute, laced with lust and want. coming up for air after his peppered kiss, he watched as your breasts peeked through your blouse, rising up and down in tandem with your heavy breaths. then his eyes met yours.
"could i go any further?"
"yes, michael." you replied through a long, wispy breath that you’ve been holding in since you met him in new york. you were dripping through your underwear at this point, your wetness longed to be released, but trapped by the laced cloth.
he took your yes and went for it. he guided your hand to your lace-covered cunt, making you feel the wet sensation already forming at his lightest touch. you flushed in embarrassment.
"did he ever make you feel like this?"
"not.. as quickly, no." you laughed, blushing even deeper.
"poor girl." he was using your hand to rub circles on your clit, making you breathless and excited. but then he pulled your hand away.
trapped by your legs and in the heat of the moment, he ripped your panties off, throwing them carelessly on the floor. you gasped.
"i'll buy you some more." it seemed like he didn't even register what he did fully; there was an intense concentration on his face.
the heat of your excitement blazed on his face like an open oven, and then he went in. he planted deep kisses on your labia, then he licked a long stripe up your cunt before going in on your clit.
"oh my god." you shakily let out.
your body couldn't handle the pleasure upright. you slowly inched your way down onto his bed, short gasps of pleasure as you did so, naturally widening for him. he licked and sucked on your clit, making your body writhe on his bed. he moved down to your opening, drinking all of you as if you were a cold bottle of water after a long rehearsal on the hottest day in june.
he was quiet, but ever so present. focused on pleasing you.
as he was eating you out, his nose was putting pressure on your clit in the best way. it only made your moans louder. you smacked your hand over your mouth. your other hand was in his thick curls, pushing him closer to you. you were almost at your breaking point, embarrassed at the short amount of time it took you to come undone.
then he stopped.
with a raised eyebrow, you held your head up and looked at him. he didn't move, he was still content being held hostage by your interlocked legs.
"there's no one in the house, you know."
"okay..."
"so stop covering your mouth with your hand. i wanna hear you."
"mike i-"
"i'll stop if you don't. promise me you won't."
you were growing impatient. the wave of pleasure that was about to wash over you slowly receded.
"whatever, just keep going, please."
"nah, i don't trust you. you're a liar remember?" for the first time in a while, a tight-lipped smile broke across his face
without giving you time to respond, he unclasped his hand from around your thigh and grabbed your hand. he took your other hand from off his head and interlaced his fingers with yours. he was holding you down. and it was both the sweetest thing and hottest thing he's ever done to you. you didn't know exactly why, but you heard a laugh emit from him, the vibrations against your already sensitive parts made you shiver.
it didn't take much longer until you were right back at the precipice of extreme pleasure. he could tell from your increasing pitch, and the soft moans of his name leaving your pretty lips. he squeezed your hand once as if telling you to let go.
and so you did. your legs clenched around his head. the feeling of his jaw opening and closing against your thigh may have been the thing to send you over the edge. your hands tightened around his, an inexplicable sensation washed over you; your breaths became faster and more shallow, rising and falling irregularly until you let out a final moan that left you shivering and limp. he cleaned you up with his tongue, gently pulling your skirt back down. he hovered over you.
“wanna taste yourself?” you nodded, and he kissed you. then he went limp beside you on his bed, dewy from a mix of your remnants and his sweat, very content with the number he did on you.
you sighed, before rising from the bed, trying to unzip his pants. he stopped you.
“no, i don’t want– you don’t have to do that.” he picked you up and placed you on top of him, letting you straddle him.
“you don’t want me to?”
“are you only doing it because i did it to you?”
“well… i mean isn’t that…” normal? you thought.
michael’s face went dark, a mixture of sadness and anger. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he was horrified at the thought of your ex boyfriend making you think that because it was received it had to be given. he couldn't believe that there wasn’t someone pouring endlessly into you without wanting anything in return.
through a clenched jaw, he said, “you’ve got a lot to unlearn with me.”
“with you?" a scoff escaped your lips. "you think you’re my boyfriend now?”
michael wasn't fazed by your amusement. it only fueled him. “no, but, i think i will be very soon.”
. . .
you slept over at michael's that night. after kissing you to sleep, he grabbed a pen and paper from his nightstand, writing the lyrics to what would become “baby be mine.”
a/n: was gonna post this tmrw but it's juneteenth so fuck it!
