mr. applehead

michael jackson x björk!reader

nsfw / fem afab reader )        it’s quiet. the room’s ceiling fan hums softly above you both as the two of you kiss, but it’s a lazy and slow hum, the kind that fades into the background with ease. it’s not a rare occurrence, a make out session after a performance. michael once told you that after a show the only air he could stand to breathe was hidden between your lips; cheekily, he added later, “a man can’t help needing to breathe”. you’ve since become accustomed to the routine of it all: he’d come home, take five minutes to settle, kiss you until you were soaked, and then you’d both pull away, too shy to take that last step just yet. michael has his insecurities, and you’ve got yours. sex wasn’t a “never ever”, just a strong “not now”.

tonight’s different, though.

you’ve been kissing for longer than usual, and michael’s hands have been roaming while he lays beneath you, his head resting against some pillows. his fingers feel you, really exploring despite the fact that you’re still clothed. they press firmly against the skin of your hips and waist, then glide around to grip your butt. any plush he finds, he digs into, letting his fingers squish, squeeze, and play with your body. his eyes are closed and his lips are reverent against yours, but his hands give away a growing sense of neediness. finally, he pulls back, caressing along the curve of your ass with both hands. when you look down at him, he’s making eye contact with your rear. you watch as he swallows thickly.

“take this off,” he orders, his voice all breathy. “please?” he pinches at whatever bottoms you have on, biting his lip.

there’s a second where you hesitate, the air in the room growing heated and hazy despite the ceiling fan still spinning up above. then you strip, slowly sliding your legs out of your clothing, leaving on your top, your bra, and pair of linen underwear.

“that’s good,” michael says, “c’mere.” he’s already pulling you closer before you can move, urging you to straddle him. the only thing he takes off is his jacket, setting it aside before adjusting his belt. “closer,” he murmurs, pulling you in further until you’re slotted right against his belt, your knees sunk into the bed on either side. “that’s it.”

he can sense your confusion before you even fix your face to express it. slowly, he lets go of your waist in favor of holding your hands. he brings them to his lips, kissing gently. “i was thinking… maybe you know, we could do a little more tonight. the belt’s got ridges, and i hear that’s helpful for… womanly pleasure.” the words come out soft, a little awkward; his face is flushed, but he’s smiling, too. “we don’t have to undress. we can just kind of… you know?”

“like this?” your hips roll slowly, and you can feel the smooth, cool hardness of the belt brushing against you through thin cloth. the feeling sends a tingle through your body. definitely, definitely like that.

“yeah, if that’s what feels good,” he nods, squeezing your hands.

you move again, rocking back and forth instead of around. it feels even better, enough for your eyes to close momentarily. touching yourself is one thing, but having michael (his belt, rather) touch you is entirely different. it’s probably entirely mental, but your toes are already curling on either side of his legs. “do you feel it when i move?” you ask.

“yeah,” he rasps out, head tilting to the side and sucking in a deep breath. “i feel it.” the belt shifts against him and his pants every time you grind and hump against it. when he closes his eyes, he just imagines that it’s you, you rolling your hips against him and dragging yourself along his length. “keep going?”

you nod on top of him, “yes, yes…” intuitively, the two of you position your hips together, slotting against each other and taking turns grunting and moaning. it’s all very soft and hesitant, both of you too scared to fully commit but too horny to pull away. it isn’t long at all until you’re both close, having already been needy and sensitive from making out, anyways. for michael, coming means shaking and rolling his head around while whining, overcome by the feelings of pleasure. for you, it means squeezing your legs around him and whimpering while tears spring up in the corners of your eyes.

it’s wordless, but not quiet. quite the opposite, in fact. michael’s louder than you are, groaning and jerking his hips as he rides out his orgasm. small, pitiful tears roll down your cheeks as you finish out your own, and as you reach up to wipe them with the back of your hand, all you can focus on is trying to breathe. both of you are completely and utterly spent, panting as though you’d just finished fighting rather than… whatever that was.

his belt glistens ever so slightly by the time you pull yourself off of it, wettened by whatever managed to leak through your panties. speaking of, your underwear carry a damp patch right by your entrance, completely ruined until you decide to do laundry. you’re both covered in sweat, and michael’s got this dazed (but pleased) look in his eye that you can’t help but find cute. things are quiet as the two of you gather yourselves, the hum of the ceiling fan suddenly coming to the foreground. it’s all you can focus on, the only thing about this situation that doesn’t feel awkward. neither of you had planned for the after part.

“i wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime,” michael finally admits breathily, flashing a sheepish smile up at you. his curls stick to his forehead and neck, plastered against his skin.

you mirror his smile, cheeks burning with all the leftover heat that still remained in your body. “me neither. it was…”

“nice?” he offers.

“definitely,” you murmur, crawling to lay beside him instead of hovering over him on your knees. “it was nice.”

as michael wraps his arms around your waist, letting your bodies settle side by side, you let out a soft yawn. looks like you’ve found something new to add to his post-show routine.

lowk imagining this belt 🤭😋

nsfw / fem afab reader, cws for voyeuristic themes & dubcon(?) )        thinking about your good friend janet jackson who, upon realizing that you don’t have any plans for the summer, invites you to come with her to a resort. “it’ll be a cute little girls’ trip. c’mon,” she coaxed you over the phone. just by hearing her tone, you could tell she was smiling on the other end. “it’ll be fun, i promise.”

thinking about how janet would insist on you two sharing a room because it’s cheaper. thinking about how she feigns surprise when there’s only one bed, shrugging shortly afterwards and murmuring about clearing it up right away. for some reason, the bed situation never gets fixed; you end up sleeping with janet for the entirety of your stay.

thinking about how she’d encourage you to do all sorts of tacky resort activities with her. “let’s go see their show!” she’ll suggest, pointing to a nearby poster, “ooh, and we can go for drinks after. they have this fruity drink in this big glass, i’m just dying to try it. you’ll try it with me, right?” of course, janet bats her lashes and purses her lip into a subtle pout whenever you seem hesitant. you humor her more often than you don’t.

thinking about how she’d take pictures with you everywhere. she carries her mini-camera like it’s her ID. “smile!” she beams as she takes yet another photo. “this one looks hot,” she remarks, “the sun looks so good on us, see?” oh, just know there’s a photo album at home dedicated to you and her. “best friends forever” is in there somewhere, surrounded by a bunch of hearts.

thinking about her covering you with a towel whenever she notices guys leering at you. she’ll wrap it around your shoulders or waist before you can even process the fact that men are taking you in. “men can be such dogs,” janet complains under her breath, rolling her eyes, “ignore them.”

but most of all, i’m thinking about that one day towards the end of the trip where janet rents out a small, nearby beach because she “doesn’t want to deal with people”. she hums softly as she slathers sunscreen on herself. then, she watches as you do the same. naturally, you both get each other’s backs. then comes the fun. or, at least, janet thought the fun would follow.

“what do you mean you’re not gonna swim?” she asks indignantly, her hands on her hips, “i rented out this whole beach!”

“i want to tan, janet,” you reply, laying down along a beach chair. you reach into your bag and pull out a book, “it never hurts to even out your skin tone.”

“i don’t care about that,” she snaps, letting her more childish side show. it’s moments like these where it’s clear that she’s the youngest of the jacksons. “the beach is for playing in the water more than tanning. i wanted to have fun with you, this is our one girls’ trip before things get busy again.”

you open your book. “we can still have fun on the sand.”

saying that was a huge mistake. you can tell from the moment she gets quiet. after a few seconds, you glance up over the book’s pages, only to notice that janet’s in the middle of crawling onto you. when you sit up, she gently pushes you back down, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“what are you doing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“having fun,” she replies. she lets one foot rest on either side of you as she settles on top. it would be a full squat if she hovered; instead, she lets her pelvis rest on top of yours, the triangle bottoms of your bikinis meeting. “you don’t mind, right? i mean, if we can share a bed, certainly we can share this…” she slides herself forward, letting her body drag against yours, “a different kind of fun, but still… fun.”

you blink once or twice, setting your book down as she starts to roll her hips. it sparks an unexpected heat in you, one strong enough for you to pause and let out a quiet exhale. “yeah? the kind of fun friends have all the time, right?” you manage to spit out sarcastically, shifting to give her more access to you.

“exactly,” she coos, “relax. you’ll still get your tan.” reaching down, janet walks her fingers up to your bikini top, holding onto it like a reign as she rides against you. “i always thought you were just so pretty,” she muses, “i’m glad we’re such close friends.”

“is that right?” your eyes go half-lidded, your mouth running dry. through your bikini bottom you can feel everything. you swear you feel the outline of her pussy lips as she ruts against you. slowly, you bring your hands to her hips, holding onto her. “i think you’re pretty, too, janet.” pretty and talented— now you know where she gets the motivation to sing those “baby making” songs.

“you’re gonna make me blush,” she breathes out, chuckling a little. after a while, she speeds up, playfully asking, “feels good, doesn’t it?” there’s little shame in how she presses herself against you. why would there be? it’s not like anyone will see, thanks to her renting the beach out. when you don’t reply, she tilts her head to the left, bringing her hips back to fully thrust against your now sensitive pussy. “you know, it’s rude not to respond,” she murmurs, “very rude.”

“janet,” you whine, only to gasp when you feel her pelvis slam against yours. your body rocks, moving back and then forth from the impact. “fuck! it feels good, it feels good.”

she watches your face, soaking in how you’ve started to sweat, how your eyes are all hazy, and how you keep biting your lip. “then come,” she demands. her hand lets go of your bikini top, sliding to press against your lower stomach. suddenly, janet takes it seriously, staring down at you as she purposefully grinds her clit against yours at that perfect angle. the bikini bottoms on you both do nothing to shield you from the sensation of her body against yours, that friction quickly adding fuel to the fire flowing through your body. a grunt leaves her lips before she goes on, “come, come for me, come right now.”

whimpering, your hips start to buck, desperate for friction. “i’m going to— ah, ahh—” your legs tremble as your orgasm rushes through you, the force of it causing you to moan out janet’s name. your eyes screw themselves shut, forcing you to miss janet’s orgasm (an orgasm that’s just as intense as your own, though she smiles through it, thoroughly pleased). even after the first burst, your pussy pulses, causing more cum to leak out of you and pool into your g-string. spent, you crumple beneath her, panting hard like a dog out in the sun.

“atta girl,” she purrs as you both come down from the high, laying down on top of you as if she belonged there. maybe she does, now. her head rests along your breasts, her hands idly roaming your body. “this was better than swimming anyways,” she decides under her breath, “much better.”

Mj with a reader who loves childish things like him?

Maybe she also had a rough childhood and they really connect together on that

Like Imagine mj offers her to go to Disney with him and she nearly squeals bc shes so excited X3 gimme that fluff it heals my soul

I'll leave the era to your choice bc I feel like this would be cute in any era

a fun little vacation.

thriller m. jackson x reader. anon explains the gist. you both have been dating for only two months, so this is all very newly natural. one thing i need to see more of is thriller era michael absolutely giggling about adoring disney and all those fun, childhood things. ahh...

this is so freaking cute. this drabble contains new relationships, fluff, and just…fluff. fluff, fluff, fluff.

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"Y'don't find it weird?"

Michael's eyes met yours, disbelief written all over his features. He didn't mean to place an impression on your judgment, but he couldn't help but feel a little shy when you caught him watching Peter Pan.

"I love Peter Pan! I was Tinkerbell for Halloween," smiling, the immediate change in Michael's demeanor made you giggle quietly.

"Really?"

Michael turned to the screen, then to you. Nodding, you sat down on the carpeted floor and cozied up beside him. "Y'didn't tell me you liked Peter Pan…" Whispering, Michael nudged your shoulder with a playful grin.

The two of you erupted into a fit of laughter, soon to be followed by what felt like hours of sharing. Michael pointed out each second of the film, as if he knew it by heart.

Just as Michael's fear of judgment prompted him to keep it to himself, you were the same way.

These things were childish, many would argue.

Soon enough, Michael brought out a lot of his collectibles. Toys, puzzles, books. All of it.

Lying on your stomachs, you and Michael went back and forth over a puzzle, laughing about random things that brought back memories of your youth.

All the things the two of you appeared to hold sincerely in your hearts despite adulthood.

"Shoulda told me you liked this stuff sooner..." Michael whispered, meeting your eyes for a second before wrapping his arms around you. "Yeah? What would've changed?"

Snickering, Michael pressed a kiss on your forehead. He flashed you a silly little grin. The exact face he made when he thought about some crazy idea.

"Mikey? What're you thinking about, huh?" With a little flirt of your finger on the tip of his nose, Michael batted your hands away with a laugh.

"I'm thinking...let's go to Disney! I wanna go, what d'ya think?"

Staring at Michael blankly for a second, your eyes were wide. You were close to jumping his bones with excitement.

"Of-freaking-course!"

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It felt as if you and Michael understood eachother on a deeper level than expected. Giggling, marveling at every characteristic of the parks and pointing out your favorite things.

A day packed with smiles that never left your lips.

Michael urged it after discovering your resemblances, and you couldn't be more fortunate than to have the same with him.

The fond memories of comfort were embodied in the moment, a new memory you'd cherish forever.

"You having fun?" Michael would ask, nudging your shoulder with the sweetest smile on his face. The excitement bubbling inside of him beaming. Eagerly, you nodded your head with a tight-lipped smile.

"That's good, gorgeous. Y'deserve the world."

Those words made you melt, prying all the shyness from the depths of your mind, alleviating the nervousness.

Instances like these proved what originality earned, a new genuine avenue of understanding broadening you and Michael's relationship.

The feeling made you warm, and you could see the same result in Michael's demeanor. "I love you." Whispering, you brushed your fingertips against Michael's hand, interlocking your fingers.

From sunrise to sundown, Michael invited you into his heart, sharing the moment with his one and only.

Rushing after him, the two of you were giggling in eachother's arms while you stared at the starry sky, soon to envelop in fireworks, painting the sky in gorgeous hues and patterns.

Leaning into Michael's hold, you kissed the side of his cheek.

Michael didn't hesitate before he whispered endearing words, gently tilting your chin to meet his lips, kissing you sweetly.

With a clear, comforted mind, you couldn't help but pull back, giggling and covering your mouth. Looking at Michael, you immediately sprang forward to wrap your arms around him, squeezing him in a tight embrace.

It took Michael by surprise, yet he didn't hesitate lifting you off your feet, causing you to gasp.

"I love you more, my princess."

You were truly loved.

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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Summer with Michael | mood board