MJ’s Tinkerbell ✨

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After an electric party celebrating the Rock With You music video release you and Michael finally found yourselves back at your apartment. Michael found his way over to kitchen pouring himself a large glass of water, chugging it in about 30 seconds. He sighed when he was finished with the glass, immediately opening the fridge to search for his favorite drink, orange juice.

“Baby, do you not have any oj? I can’t find any.” He pouts

“You must be tired. It’s always in the fridge.”

“Well, I can’t find it, can you come help me?” He whines. You walk over to him and peer into the fridge, quickly spotting the orange juice behind a carton of milk. “It’s right here, see?” You point.

“Ohhhh, thank you baby.” He grabs the carton and pours himself and tall glass before heading to the couch. He finds a spot on the couch next to you, his body slumping down like a rag doll.

“Michael, you were amazing tonight.” You praise him.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

“No seriously, you were magnetic, the way you sang I wanna rock with you allll night, dance you into sunlightttt” you sang. “The crowd was glued to you the whole time!”

“Thanks baby. It was fun, but I’m so tired and sweaty I must look gross.” He responds

“Gross? You’re never gross to me Mikey.”

“That’s sweet baby, really but I’m still all sweaty, I need to shower.”

“Why do that when I can lick the sweat off you.” You suggest bitting your lip.

“Babyyy you’re nasty.” His eyes go wide in shock as covers his mouth with his hand.

“God forbid I wanna rock with you all night.” You waggle your eyebrows.

“I- baby.”

“Baby.” Your voice dips to a sultry tone.

“You really wanna do that?”

“I’ve had dreams about it.” Your eyes darken as look at him pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Baby you’re bad.” He responds his beautiful eyes dropping to your lips. You take that as a sign and lean into him, kissing him sweetly your lips meeting his soft plush ones. He kisses you back greedily gently bitting your bottom lip, then slipping his to tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. You weaved your fingers through his curls leaning forward to gently push his back down onto the cushions of the couch. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer as you hover over him. You move your hands to cradle his face brushing your thumbs over his now flushed cheeks. “You’re so beautiful my lovely.” You coo.

“You’re too sweet to me angel”

“You deserve all the love in the world, you radiate kindness.”

“Baby” is all he can manage to whisper back as a tear drips down his cheek and he cranes his head up to meet your lips again.

His heart was now fluttering in his chest, he couldn’t believe a girl like you actually loved him, he couldn’t believe anyone loved him as much as you do.

You trail you your hands down him to his chest, slowly working the buttons on his shirt. After pulling the shirt off his damp body you start at his neck laying kiss down till you get to his collar bone. As you kiss him you leave red lipstick marks in your path. You make your way to his chest looking up at him. “Baby open your eyes, I want you to watch me.” He obliged opening his eyes to watch as you began moving your tongue over his defined glistening chest. You keep making your way down him to his stomach but stop when he starts laughing.

“Hehehe that tickles!”

“Oh, sorry should I stop?”

“No.” He says abruptly starring at you lustfully.

“Oh!” You raise your eyebrows in understanding, before continuing. You love the salty sweet taste of his perspiration on your tongue and the warmth of his skin. You make your way to his happy trail before hovering over his pants.

“Oh!” You bit your lip seeing the tent in his pants. “Does this turn you on baby? Me being nasty like this, licking all over your sweaty body?”

“Mmmmm” he hummed in response.

Michael couldn’t believe that you acting so filthy like this would leave him in such a state of arousal, but after all why should he be surprised? You were the thing he loved most after music, and the object of all his desires. How could he ever contain his craving for you. You made his head spin and heart fly as all his rational thought left when you were near. He was a love sick fool for you.

You unzip his pants sliding them down his thighs. Your eyes land on his growing tent, and if at all possible the outline of his cock looks larger than last time you saw it. The palm of your hand starts rubbing circles on his clothed tip, and he bucks his hips while letting out a small moan. You and Michael hadn’t been being intimate for very long, but you already felt you knew exactly how to get him going and how to get him to melt under your touch. You tease him a bit longer before fully pulling away his boxers, revealing his length.

“God Mikey I don’t remember you being quite this big last time.” You gulp.

“Well it didn’t shrink.” This causes you to immediately erupt in loud uncontrollable laughter. “AHAHAHAHA MICHAEL! I can’t focus on what I’m ‘bout to do if you’re gonna be saying stuff like that hahahahaha!”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to be funny.” He admits. “I was just makin’ an observation.” You take a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

“Ok I’m uh gonna focus now.” You say quietly, exhaling. You gingerly wrap your hand around him stroking down once to test the waters. He let out a small whine from the contact and it was hard for you to hide the excited smile growing on your face. You used the slick of his precum to move your hand along the shaft with ease and he began rolling his hips up to match your pace. You use your thumb to rub his tip, and he starts to whimper.

“God baby that- ohhhh feels so good!” His breath shutters. You continue pumping him mercilessly as he keeps jerking his hips desperate to keep up with your steady rhythm.

“You’re such a good boy for me Michael. Are you gonna cum for me soon?” Your voice comes out in a deep sultry tone. He doesn’t answer but his breathing gets more shallow as he struggles to keep up with your hand. You bend down and experimentally lick a long strip from the base of his cock to the tip and that maneuver is what does him in.

“Mmph fuck! Angel I’m gonna- fuckkkk!”

“Good boy cum for me baby, right on my hand.”

His head was currently swirling as he was coming down from his orgasm, but he greedily wanted more. He wanted to be inside you but first he wanted to taste you. Anything Michael did was never half-assed and it was in his own opinion not eating you out was half-assed.

“Mmm baby you’re so good at that.” He praises you.

“Thank you handsome.”

“I wanna taste you angel.” He admits.

“Taste me where? Use your words.” You prompt him.

“That…” gulp. “Pretty pussy of yours.” He nervously answers.

“Hmm I suppose that can be arranged.” You stand up in front of him and pull your dress off, leaving yourself completely bare.

“You-you’re not wearing a bra or panties.” He remarks, eyes wide.

“Just for you baby.”

“D-did you have this in mind the whole night?”

“Maybeee.”

“You should um, sit down again so I can ya know.” You made your way back to the couch laying your back against the cushions. He sat down on his knees in between your legs before cupping under your thighs and pulling them up onto his shoulders.

“Woah this is new.” You giggle.

“Tryin’ somethin’”

“Mm I think I like it.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He breathes out.

“Thank you.” You hum. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and you almost loose focus, until you feel his hot breath hovering your clit and your own breath hitches in anticipation. His mouth lands on your clit with a burning passion and starts sucking it fiercely. His tongue then swirls circles on your clit and you can help but to fill the room with loud moans of his name. His mouth leaves your sensitive bud, and his tongue teases your entrance before he suddenly plunges two fingers in at once and a gasp of pleasure escapes your lips. His fingers work at a steady pace as his mouth finds its way back to your clit leaving you to desperately cling the cushion below you.

“Mmmm fuckkk baby, how did you get so good at this?”

“Been studying’”

“With what? Another woman?” You tease.

“No, uh Jermaine leant me a magazine and gave me a few pointers.” He veers his gaze down shyly before continuing to finger fuck you into oblivion. He curls his fingers inside you and the cushion no longer being good enough for you, your hands reach up to the nape of his neck, your fingers gripping his hair. He scissors his fingers inside you and you try to hold back the tears forming in your eyes from pure ecstasy. The pace at which his fingers are pumping inside you, paired with his tongue working your clit, you are already approaching your peak.

“Angel is it good?”

“Is it good? Is it good?! I’m gonna fuckkkk! Sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry sweet girl. Go ahead cum all over my face, I wanna taste it gorgeous.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” The tension in your stomach finally snaps and you cry loudly in pleasure. He continues with his fingers and tongue and he laps up every drop from your orgasm. Then, as if licking your clit wasn’t enough, after he finally pulls his fingers out of you he put them in his mouth, making direct eye contact with you as he licks them clean.

“Taste so good baby.”

“I- oh- wow!” You respond still catching your breath. You sit up lips crashing into him, with more hunger than before as your hands roam his body unable to stay in one place. He pulls your legs to wrap around his waist his hands landing on your ass, kneading the soft tissue. He grips you firmly to stand as he hold you.

“Where are we going?” You whisper in between kisses.

“Bedroom.” He smiles at you. He carries you the short walk to the bedroom and throws you onto the bed and you let out a small yelp in surprise. He crawls over you, in between your legs.

“Spread them legs beautiful” he commands lining himself up. You open your legs as wide as you can for him. He picks up some of your slick on his cock and teases your clit with his tip, before slowly entering you, filling you up inch by inch. Once fully seated a panicked look spreads across his face.

“Baby what’s wrong?”

“I- I forgot a condom.” He responds.

“Don’t worry Mikey I got on birth control after our first time.”

“Ohhh thank god.” He lets out a sigh of relief.

Michael hoped to eventually have kids with you, but his mother would tear him a new one if she found out he got a girl pregnant out of wedlock. Not to mention you were both so young and there was no reason to rush things.

He starts off at a quick rhythmic pace that gives almost no time for you to adjust to his size, but you don’t mind as the stretch is wonderfully delicious. He grabs your wrists and moves your arms above your head lacing his fingers with yours. You loved when he took control like this. Since Michael was so shy in public many people would never expect him to have this side, but you loved when he had his way with you. He sweeps down to lay kisses all over your face and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

“Baby you’re so beautiful like this. All mine angel, all mine. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

“Mm I- ahh can… we…try…somethin’…new?”

You mange between thrusts.

“What… would… that… be…baby?” He pants out.

“I’ll show you but you have to pull out for a sec.” He pulls out of you, which despite being the one to request it you still whine at the feeling. You then position yourself so you’re sitting on your knees and your ass is in the air facing him.

“Ohh goddd.” He groans seeing you at this new angle. “Is it still gonna fit?”

“It should, the book um said you could get deeper this way.” You explain.

“Book?”

“I did my research too baby.” You crane your head to smile at him.

“Ohhh goddd.” He repeats himself, mind fuzzy now.

“I’m all yours Michael, this dripping pussy is all for you.” As he sinks into you again the two of you groan in tandem from pleasure. Each snap of his hips has your eyes rolling back in your head and his tip keeps hitting right in the spot, pleasure takes over your body.

“Mmm fuck angel you’re so deep and tight. God, squeezin’ me so good.” He praises.

“Mmmmm gahhh” you cry out but your voice is muffled by the mattress. You can feel your walls clench around him and each time his cock pumps into you the feeling of being filled so completely overwhelms you and can feel your second orgasm quick approaching. Michael must’ve been reading your mind because one of his arms snakes around your middle and his finger finds your clit drawing circles.

“Mmm so close pretty girl cum with me please.”

“I- ahh right there Michael, right there!”

“Can’t… hold… much… longer!”

“Yes! Yes! Oh godddd!” You scream as the two of you hit your peak at the same time. You feel his hot seed fill you up and he pants heavily trying to ride out his orgasm. You reach down between the two of you getting the aftermath of what you just did and put your finger in your mouth looking back at him as do so.

“Baby… that’s nasty.”

“Nasty? You eating me earlier wasn’t.” You counter. “Here you should taste it for yourself.” You bring your finger back down between you getting them wet again before bringing them up to his mouth. He opens his mouth letting your fingers in then sucks them clean.

“You’re a freaky little thing.”

“I’m your freaky little thing.” You respond back.

“Ahaha you’re right.” He laughs. “Ok I gotta get up now to draw us a bath.”

“Mm why?” You whine.

“Can’t stay like forever, and won’t a bath make you feel relaxed?”

“Mm fine. Will you use the lavender bubble bath?”

“Of course beautiful.”

Michael had made it a habit of his to always clean you up someway after sex. He loved to take care of you and he felt it should be standard for being a good boyfriend. Taking a bath was your favorite choice as you could continue the closeness while being relaxed and comfortable.

You step into the warm bath sitting down in front of him. He starts by slowly massaging your shoulders and you melt from his touch. He then wraps his arms around you bringing you flush with his chest he just holds you close in that warm embrace for a while.

You fall asleep against him in the tub, and you wake up finding yourself in your robe carefully tucked into the bed. You look over and see Michael dead asleep next to you quietly snoring. You lean over and whisper “I love you” to his unconscious body before kissing him on the cheek and drifting back to a peaceful slumber.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Thanks for reading :)

Border credit

Black male bodies have always been a site of white supremacist control. During the era of chattel slavery, white men asserted dominance over black men’s flesh to dehumanize/emasculate them by violating and owning their bodies. Sexual and physical violence was forced on them, along with their bodies being used as property for labor. Every form of human degradation and domination was enacted to strip them of their autonomy and manhood. Black bodies were treated as a commodity meant only for white consumption.

There is also a caricature created by white supremacy, called the “black brute,” that was forced onto Black men to keep them controlled after the Civil War. Black men were painted to be hypermasculine “animals” with large genitalia who couldn’t control their sexual appetite. Eurocentric standards defined Black men very rigidly, leaving no space for their full range of humanness- physically and emotionally.

Black men have also been lynched throughout American history for white ritualistic entertainment, over made-up offenses and false social “violations.” They were violently mutilated as part of these lynchings. Removing their genitalia symbolized the white fixation on their bodies and the fear of white women becoming their “prey.” There were even medical articles written with ways to "cure" Black men of their “barbaric” sexual urges through castration. This racial violence stems from white supremacist insecurity, wanting control over Black men, while creating terror around their sexuality. These dehumanizing fixations and biased stereotypes are present in many areas of Michael’s life.

Michael’s existence as a Black man under the world’s spotlight made him the target of racist, intrusive attacks. His soft voice and sensitive nature attracted media speculation about his body and masculinity. Rumors about faking his voice, taking hormones, and childhood castration were just some of the speculations around his biology. There was also the intense social pressure for him to remain a cute child, making his puberty experience under white beauty standards (and a self-hating father) exceptionally traumatic.

While white conservative media initially praised him for being a "safe" Black idol, this endearing perception shifted over time. As he aged, Michael was criticized heavily for not conforming to the media’s idea of Black hypermasculinity. This conditional acceptance demanded conformity for white comfort, yet also denied his autonomy as a man outside of entertainment. The infamous New York Post headline, "Peter Pan or Pervert?," shows that the mainstream media would eventually only accept Michael as either a stunted adult or a sex criminal.

Throughout adulthood, he was infantilized by media outlets for not being traditionally masculine or “sexual” enough based on their racial standards. This attitude allowed audiences to consume his talent while denying his maturity, intelligence, and reality as an adult Black man. Interviewers would pry about his sex life and appearance, rather than his art and humanitarian work, framing him as an odd specimen. The public’s failure to understand Michael created room for biased suspicion. This was evident when Bashir weaponized Michael's childhood trauma and emotional vulnerability to portray him as a strange, unstable pedophile.

Once media couldn't paint him as a child prodigy or an untouchable pop god, it became lucrative to market him as eccentric and disturbed. Michael was not given the space to express his quirks, emotions, or inner child freely without biased opinions. Michael was forced to constantly defend his psychological maturity and personal life choices on camera, more than his white peers.

His interests, hobbies, and demeanor were sensationalized and used to portray him as a “weird" spectacle. The media felt entitled to deconstruct every aspect of his private life, turning interviews into interrogations. A well known instance of this is when Michael uncomfortably closed his jacket after Barbara Walters claimed he was eccentric and invited attention...a human reaction to being on display. His existence was pathologized as a strange anomaly. Headlines scrutinized Michael’s clothing, makeup, and hair choices that would be praised as “androgynous” or “groundbreaking” on a white performer.

His skin condition added to the prejudice against him. This phenomenon has historical parallels: Black individuals with vitiligo or albinism were often used as attractions in sideshows or by white scientists for racist theories. The European term “white negro” viewed them as a medical oddity and a different human species. For example, Henry Moss, a 17th century enslaved man with vitiligo, became a paid exhibition for white amusement, and the subject of research experiments. The stigma that treated Michael’s body as bizarre and contaminated with sin was already embedded into our culture.

The social panic around Michael also shows in the hysteria around his dancing. It reflects the colonial white gaze towards Black culture. It treats hip movements as something inherently hypersexual or “vulgar.” Pelvic, bottom, and hip movements are major parts of Afro-diasporic cultures, using the entire body as an instrument rather than confining dance to feet and a rigid, straight spine. Black dance throughout many genres (jazz, blues, soul, modern hip hop, etc.) represents liberation and autonomy. Dance has been an ancestral outlet for the soul throughout centuries of racist oppression.

However, Michael’s dancing was criticized by white media platforms for being too promiscuous and corrupting the youth. While dance does express Black sensuality, Western culture has historically viewed it as abnormally provocative and strange. This racist view traces back to minstrel shows mocking Black dance, as well as when enslaved individuals had to dance for white entertainment. Black dance has socially been seen as lewd and sinful when compared to Eurocentric dance standards.

The judgement Michael received shows the discomfort around Black sexuality, especially as a former child star facing racial double standards. White popstars and rockstars did not face the same systemic anxieties that Michael did, regarding bodily expression. While Oprah wanted to imply a sexually deviant reason for his crotch grabbing, Michael stated it came from the power of the music. Michael’s eroticism was subconsciously intertwined with the rhythm; his sharp pelvic and fluid hip movements became a physical embodiment of the drum itself. His creative, musical energy went hand-in-hand with his sensuality. These movements were always central to his choreography in the 1970s, yet outrage developed as his vitiligo progressed and he drifted from his commercialized “safe” Black superstar image.

His deliberate pelvic touch, zipper closeup, and slow hip grinding in the Black Panther dance was such a powerful way to reject the endless puritanical criticisms against him. The raw emotion in the video was also an animalistic, unfiltered reaction to racism, but was interpreted as promoting mindless public destruction. Consequently, the video faced immediate mainstream backlash and network censorship for alleged sexual and physical “aggression.” The public felt compelled to sanitize Michael’s image, viewing Black sexuality and emotion as dangerous. The objectification of Michael’s body was not exclusive to the stage and music videos; it bled into the dehumanizing legal battles he faced as well.

The world’s most famous and powerful figure being a Black man, loved by women of all races, challenged the racial hierarchies that America is founded on. It was a recipe for racial injustice and a curated enemy for the public. The 2005 trial was a modern-day lynching that degraded his image for the sake of greed and manufactured panic. The 1993 allegations were the calculated result of a vengeful extortionist seeking to humiliate him through the caricature of the sexually dangerous Black man. Tabloid malpractice profited off this moral hysteria, circulating baseless speculations and buying out fictional stories that portrayed Michael as a monster.

The 2005 trial was a dehumanizing witch hunt, at the hands of the white DA Thomas Sneddon who had a vendetta to prosecute Michael, even if it meant falsifying evidence. Michael's incarceration would have been a trophy for Sneddon, making an example of a beloved icon and supporting his professional reputation. That trial violated Michael on every level: subjecting him to an invasive strip search, documenting intrusive images of his private areas, forced court appearances while injured, raiding his safe space, and the destruction of his overall health. This public spectacle and media frenzy created an ignorant stigma around his legacy that still stands. The violent arrest and intrusive body search echo the centuries-old pattern of authorities robbing black bodies of basic human dignity.

I don’t believe it’s a mere coincidence that the first worldwide Black heartthrob was falsely accused of sex crimes, with white men leading the attack. Belittling a Black man through abusive media and mob mentality heavily mirrored the painful past of legal and physical violence inflicted on Black bodies. A racist, narrow cultural framework created the media circus of fascination and fear around Michael’s anatomy.

These themes are obvious in the media slur “Wacko Jacko” (which Michael was very aware of), reducing a complex, brilliant human being to an eccentric animal. Even immediately after passing, that name continued to follow him in the tabloids, alongside invasive images of his body. There was also an instant, hypocritical switch to falsified sympathy and celebrating his legacy once he passed, but it was superficially done just for the nostalgic bandwagon. The media economy exploited Michael to no end, by destroying him and then capitalizing on his memory.

But Michael's spirit and strength always proved to be Invincible, refusing to be victimized by bigoted judgement or compromise his art. This is why I view Threatened as an autobiographical anthem that plays on the narrative of Michael being a savage “monster.” It flips that haunting dynamic to intimidate the biased media systems, while recognizing Michael’s mass appeal and inescapable status. It tells the white patriarchal establishment, “Every time your lady speaks, she speaks of me. Threatened.” It directly targets the fragile egos of Michael’s critics and how institutions felt threatened by his refusal to submit to any boxes. “Half of me you'll never be, so you should feel threatened by me.” The song counterattacks anyone who has tried to take away Michael’s pride and manhood. It reclaims his power, despite the social campaign to label him as a “freak.”

Michael was catapulted into a world eager to shame his body and capitalize on racist, gendered panic. Abusive journalism demonized his sexuality and skin condition, portraying him as a “weird” criminal for tabloid profit. Additionally, Thomas Sneddon relentlessly pursued Michael for over a decade to prosecute him as a sexual predator. Tabloid Junkie strongly exposes how the obsessive press wanted to, “speculate to break the one you hate" and "circulate the lie" they confiscate. Michael was vividly aware of the systemic goal to "assassinate and mutilate" his character and legacy. The media manhunt around Michael mirrored the publicized, coordinated pursuits of black men for public spectacle in American history.

The historical fixation on Black biology and autonomy laid the foundation for the media attacks and weaponized sexuality used against Michael. His private, complex humanity was treated as a freakish anomaly that the media sought to brutally deconstruct. There was a permanent racialized lens observing his expression of Black masculinity, turning nonconformity and difference into a tabloid minstrel caricature. Deeply rooted social phobias and fabricated narratives stripped Michael of his presumption of innocence from the general public. The historical biases fabricated around Black men and their sexuality were triggered in hopes of his publicized downfall.