#king of pop mj | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

michaelsfavgirl · 25 days

Text

he takes care of you when you're sick

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, Mike being husband material

Word Count: 500+

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: first hcs on this blog lets gooo

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Oh boy, let’s get into it

Michael is very protective of you as it is

But when you’re sick Michael's protective instincts kick into overdrive (affectionately)

Doesn't care whether it's just a common cold or something miniscule

He’s immediately treating you like fragile porcelain

But god forbid If it's a fever or a more serious ailment, he's practically glued to your hip 24/7

Good luck getting any personal space during those times

He fusses over you constantly, asking if you need him to fetch you something, making sure you're comfortable

“Feeling any better, sweet girl?”

“Are you getting cold? Lemme just quickly grab your favorite blanket”

This man can cook, okay? So expect him to whip up all kinds of soups to make you feel better.

Don't you even dare to disrespect him by opening the fridge and trying to make a meal for yourself

he won't hear of it

“Ah ah, none of that, don’t want my girl strainin herself for no reason”

“Mike i just want to eat-”

“shh, i’m here to take care of you, let’s get you back into bed hm? You go take a little nap while I make you something okay baby?” you nod defeatedly and take your ass back to bed

Is very serious when it comes to taking medicine

Doesn't care if you say it tastes like dookie

You’re taking it, end of conversation

He’ll revoke your kisses and cuddles privileges if you don’t comply

He’s pretty cruel as you can tell

But he’s so sweet afterwards, showering you with praise and kisses

“That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” He says and kisses your pout away

Will 100% help you shower if you’re feeling weak

Even when you're not sick, he enjoys doing domestic things with you; it makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside

Michael refuses to put any distance between you in bed, no matter how much you protest that he'll get sick too

This man looks at you like -_- ‘You think I care bout that?’

He'll wrap you securely in his arms and pull the sheets up to your neck

His huge hands gently caressing your skin and humming a soothing tune

As you start to feel better Michael feels a little guilty and selfish

Of course he wants his precious angel to be healthy and all, but he really gets used to taking care of you so intimately very quickly and wishes it could go on a little longer

You have to remind him that y’all live together and spend most of your time in each other's presence.

It doesn’t get any closer than that but he’s still pouting like a baby, saying he’ll miss taking care of you

As if he doesn’t already do everything for you and spoil you rotten

This man will be the death of you…and you wouldn’t have it any other way <3

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson

113 notes · View notes

michaelsfavgirl · 11 days

Text

crestfallen

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After Michael cheats on you with Diana Ross you cross paths again at the Grammy's.

Tags: angst, infidelity, hurt no comfort.

Word Count: 2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing angst so be nice pls

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

You step onto the Grammy's red carpet, and instantly, the paparazzi swarm like bees to honey. Their voices blend into a cacophony of shouts, yells, and screams, all clamoring for your attention. "Over here! Look this way! Smile for us!" they cry, their cameras flashing relentlessly, each burst of light illuminating the chaos around you. The flashes are blinding, but you've long grown accustomed to the relentless barrage of attention. You've been in this spotlight for years, and it's become a part of your reality.

Every step you take is deliberate, graceful, as if you're gliding across the red carpet with the effortless elegance of a swan. The eyes of the world are upon you, and you know they're scrutinizing your every move, every detail of your appearance. But you don't falter. You maintain your composure, your facade of perfection.

Yet beneath the surface, turmoil and heartbreak churns within you, a storm raging in the depths of your soul. It's a feeling you've grown all too familiar with, a constant companion in the midst of fame and adulation. The memory of betrayal lingers like a shadow.

The world sees only the polished exterior, the flawless face of success and glamour. But they don't know the pain that lies beneath, the wound that refuses to heal, the shattered love and broken promises.

The memory of him lingers like a bittersweet melody, haunting your thoughts even as you walk the red carpet. Michael was your everything, the center of your world, until he wasn't.

–

You sit on the edge of the bed, the soft sheets beneath you offering little comfort as your heart aches with betrayal. Michael kneels before you, his grip on your knees tight, as if he fears you'll vanish into thin air if he lets go. His eyes, usually so warm and full of love, are now red and swollen with tears, mirroring the pain in your own.

Tears blur your vision, despite your best efforts to hold them back. You never thought you'd find yourself in this position, confronted with the harsh reality of infidelity in your own home, in your own bed. It's a betrayal that cuts to the core, leaving you feeling hollow and broken.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Michael whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I never meant to hurt you, I swear." Apologies fall from his lips in a desperate stream, each word laden with remorse and regret. But you can't bring yourself to listen, can't bear to hear his excuses and justifications. You thought he was better than this, thought he was a good man. But now, all you see is the shattered remains of the man you once loved.

Finally finding your voice, you cut him off with a quiet, trembling whisper. "How long?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The silence that follows is deafening, heavy with shame and guilt. Michael hangs his head low, unable to meet your gaze, and your heart clenches with the realization that this betrayal has been going on for much longer than you anticipated.

"Speak up," you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. Michael mutters something almost inaudible, and you lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. "Four months," he finally admits, and the weight of his words crushes you like a ton of bricks.

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. You swallow hard, pushing back the tears threatening to spill over. And then, with a strength you didn't know you possessed, you meet his gaze, your eyes cold and distant.

"You don't love me," you say softly, the words heavy with resignation. It's not a question, but a statement of fact, a bitter truth that you can no longer deny.

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Four months. Four months of lies and deceit, all hidden behind a facade of love and devotion.

Michael shakes his head and reaches out to you, his hand trembling as he tries to wipe away your tears. "No, no, that's not true baby i-," he insists, but you pull away, unable to bear the touch of his hand against your skin.

You glare at him, anger burning hot in your chest as he tries to defend himself, but you cut him off with a sharp raise of your voice. "If you loved me, if you respected me, you would have never done such a thing," you say, your words laced with bitterness and hurt. He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to the floor as he takes in the full extent of the pain he's caused you.

A heavy silence hangs between you, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing. You watch as he struggles to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But you know there's nothing he can say to make this right, nothing he can do to erase the betrayal that now stains your relationship.

With a trembling voice, you speak again, your words barely above a whisper. "I always knew," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "I always knew that you loved her more than you could ever love me." His silence is deafening, confirming the painful truth that has been gnawing at your heart for far too long.

Tears blur your vision as you continue, your voice shaking with anger and sadness. "But I never expected you to be such a coward," you say, each word a dagger aimed straight at his heart. "To go behind my back and fuck her like some pathetic mutt." He stays silent, knowing better than to argue with you.

You roughly push his hands away from your knees, the contact suddenly feeling suffocating and unbearable. Without another word, you stand up, your legs shaking beneath you as you take a step back. "Don't ever contact me again," you say, your voice cold and final.

–

“Hey, are you alright?.” You sit in the crowded room, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the ceremony. Your manager, seated beside you, leans in and asks.

“Yeah, yeah..I’m fine.” You nod, offering a small, strained smile as you try to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. The truth is, you're anything but alright. But you can't let anyone see that, not here, not now.

Your thoughts drift as the ceremony progresses, the familiar rhythm of the event lulling you into a state of detachment. But then, a name is announced, and your breath catches in your throat. Michael. He's won an award for "We Are the World" As you watch him take the stage, a pang of nostalgia washes over you, mingled with a hint of bitterness.

His smile, the same smile he used to give you, sends a shiver down your spine. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting anyone to notice the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you. Your eyes wander, landing on Diana. You can't help but feel a surge of resentment toward her.

But you push those thoughts aside, unwilling to let them sour your mood any further. Instead, you turn your attention back to Michael, just in time to catch his gaze. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes lock with his, his big, beautiful brown eyes, and for a moment, it's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you.

He stumbles over his words, drawing a chuckle from the audience. They think it's nerves, but you know the truth. He's stumbled because he's seen you, because he's still affected by you after all this time. Shamelessly, he keeps his eyes locked on yours throughout his speech, and you can't help but feel a flutter of something deep within you. Though not enough to mirror his.

As he finishes his speech, his eyes still locked on yours, his words send a jolt of electricity through your veins. "And lastly I want to thank the one I love most," he says, his gaze unwavering as he looks directly at you. The audience assumes he's talking about Diana, but you know better. You scoff inwardly, knowing that his words are meant for you and you alone.

You make your way through the throngs of people. The ceremony is over, but the weight of what just transpired hangs heavy on your shoulders. As you approach your waiting limo, you can sense someone running after you. Your heartbeat quickens, but you refuse to slow down or halt your steps. Then, you hear his voice calling out to you.

“Wait! Please, slow down.”

Despite your best efforts to ignore him, he manages to catch up to you, gently grabbing your arm. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, his skin so soft and familiar. But you push aside those thoughts, refusing to let them overpower you.

With a quick motion, you take your arm out of his grasp, treating him as if he's a stranger to you. The hurt is evident in his eyes as he opens his mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words.

Finally, he sighs and simply says, "I'm sorry." His voice is soft, almost pleading, but you remain silent, blankly staring at him.

He continues after the awkward silence, admitting that you were right, that he was pathetic for what he did. "I wasn't in love with Diana," he confesses. "I was in love with the idea of her in my mind. But I've realized now that I've only ever loved one person so deeply, and that's you."

His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. He pours out his heart, apologizing profusely, again and again, his breath picking up, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. His hands tremble, itching to touch you again, to hold you close. You can tell he's being genuine, but your face remains emotionless, betraying nothing.

After he's done with his monologue, you take a deep breath and nod, giving him a small glimmer of hope. But then, you shatter it with your next words. "okay…I don't forgive you," you state calmly, firmly.

He tries to argue, to plead his case, but you shut him down with a simple, "I hear you, but I still don't forgive you."

You look him up and down one last time, taking in every detail. "I wish you all the best," you say quietly, before turning and walking away, leaving him more broken than he was before.

There's a moment of silence as he processes your words, his expression crestfallen.

His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs as if it might stop any second. His hand trembles as he presses it against his chest, trying to calm the frantic beat. But the realization that you're driving away, that you're never coming back, settles in like a heavy weight on his chest.

He backs himself against a nearby wall, his knees unable to support him any longer. He slides down, his back hitting the cold surface, his legs sprawled out in front of him. The tears he's been holding back finally break free, tracing a salty path down his cheeks. It feels like his whole world is collapsing around him, the only person who's truly cared for him now gone because of his own stupidity.

His face feels hot with embarrassment and shame. His clothes suddenly feel too tight, constricting his every movement. The street lights overhead seem blindingly bright, casting harsh shadows on the pavement below. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensory input.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't escape the suffocating feeling of loss that grips him. It's like a vice around his chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. He feels like he can't breathe, like the air around him is too thick to inhale. All he can do is sit there, consumed by his own despair, wishing he could turn back time and make things right. But he knows it's too late for that now. You're gone, and he's left alone to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart.

#kate's writing #michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson x fem!reader #king of pop #angst #mj #x reader #michael jackson imagine #headcanon #drabble #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #blurb #thrad era

81 notes · View notes