scoot

⊹₊ ㆍ✿ㆍevery time i see pictures like these of Michael , side by side, i can't help but notice how he still is that little boy he was :(, he always had that sad look (first picture) and it js makes me so heartbroken, considering what he and his brothers went through.. ㆍ✿ㆍ₊⊹

₊‧.°.⋆ even though Michael did change a lot appearance wise (which was NOT his fault) his eyes and smile remained so beautiful and handsome :3 •˚₊‧⋆.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━

Word Count: 2.9k

Description: You thought you were being quiet when you touched yourself. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault he could hear everything from his bed next door every single time. And when you moan his name out loud, he’s done pretending he doesn’t hear.

Tags/Warnings: Smut. Menace Bucky is back on this one. Fem!reader. Bucky spying on her. Mutual masturbation. Oral f!rec.

Note: this is literally just Bucky being feral about a helpless doll next door, he just has to step in. Enjoy lovelies 🫶🏼

Masterlist

It wasn't his fault. His room just happened to be next to yours, beds pressed against the same wall. A thick wall. But it wasn't his fault he had enhanced hearing, so he just couldn't help it. Couldn't help hearing the nights you gave yourself over to pleasure.

And fuck, he listened. Every single time.

synopsis; ‎ꫂ᭪݁ you're too occupied with your 'boyfriend', and it's breaking michaels heart.

cw; you two faced ho.....and a little bit of jealous michael #yummersssss #angst

"I'm upset because he gets to do all the things I have to ask for."

"I'll do anything, I swear, just please."

"I'll wait. I'll give you time. I'll do whatever you need me to do. Just choose me." Those were confessions, confessions from past conversations of you two.

You caught Michael's eye when you walked up to him with a small record in your hand, with the biggest eyes and cutest smile. That smile got you whatever you wanted. You wore a little babydoll dress that moved softly with each step, the fabric hanging sweetly around your figure. Your fro framed your face perfectly, so so cute.

"Mr. Jackson, can you sign this please?" you asked sweetly, teasing him just a little.

He was almost starstruck for a moment when he saw you, and of course, he signed it, for you. He signed his name carefully with the red marker, then handed it back with a small smile.

"Gosh, my boyfriend is gonna love this!," you said happily.

Hearing that made Michael's smile fade, boyfriend, he thought. At that point, Michael knew he should have left it alone. But he didn't. The glances you both gave each other were more than friendly, and more than enough to keep Michael around you. He would secretly talk to you on the phone, if the phone bill was a little 'higher' than usual, he'd pay it with no problem. He'd have a small place where you both could hang out, sometimes the studio, sometimes at his home. You didn't mind it. If anything, you welcomed it, even if a small part of you knew you shouldn't.

In the beginning, it was fun. You shared your first kiss with him in his studio, kissing him slow with soft chuckles that fell underneath you two. But overtime...this secret started eating you alive. You started feeling guilty when your boyfriend came around you, you couldn't tell him you were speaking to another man, the man being Michael Jackson. It was complicated. Your boyfriend wasn't just someone you were dating anymore, he had become woven into your life. Your parents adored him and every family gathering somehow ended with him sitting at the dinner table. Breaking up with him wouldn't just break his heart, but it would leave questions you weren't ready to answer.

You didn't want to let Michael go either, so, you just kept it quiet.

ʚɞ Present.

Michael's fingers tapped against the arm rest. He sat firm in his chair wearing his usual polo and slacks. He waited all afternoon to hear from you, just waiting for any sign that you were thinking about him the way he was thinking about you. He was patient about a lot of things, but when it came to you, his patience seemed to run thin.

I need to see her.

I need her.

Michael hated how easily those thoughts came to him. He had spent the whole day trying to convince himself that he was fine, that he could give you space. So he worked on some music, scribbling some lyrics in his notebook and playing around with the music board. His fingers pressed over the board, he tried to keep himself busy.

But the truth was, he missed you. And painfully so.

The worse part about this whole thing was, he couldn't really talk to you. After all, you had a boyfriend. Everything had to keep quiet between the two of you, you didn't want word getting out to any family members or news media. With Michael's name growing bigger every day, the last thing either of you needed was rumors spreading about a secret relationship.

That was another reason you had to keep quiet. You were proud of Michael. You always told him that. You told him how happy you were seeing him succeed, how much you believed in him.

And Michael loved hearing that.

He just wished, for once, he didn't have to share you with someone else.

The man who could have anything he wanted, wanted you. But he couldn't, at least not at this time. He would have countless talks with you about it, beg even, and you'd always say "Just give me some time."

He'd convinced himself he could live with it. That if waiting meant eventually having you, then it would be worth it. But seeing you with your boyfriend made every promise he'd made to himself fall apart.

Michael never really knew what to make of him. He wasn't rude to you, he wasn't cruel. In fact, this almost made it harder. If he had been some terrible person, maybe Michael could've found a reason to dislike him. But he couldn't.

He was just… there.

The man who got to stand beside you in public, the man who could hold your hand without worrying about who was watching. The man who didn't have to wonder when he would hear from you again.

Michael didn't care much for him, but he couldn't deny one thing. He thought it was almost amusing how much the man admired his music.

He heard the way your boyfriend would talk about his songs, how he'd compliment his voice, his performances, the way he moved on stage. It was strange, almost ironic. The man who had the one thing Michael wanted was also one of the many people who looked up to him.

Sometimes Michael wondered if he knew...

If he knew the person he listened to on the radio was the same person who stayed up late talking to his girlfriend. The thought made him feel guilty, because he knew this wasn't right. He knew there were lines he shouldn't be crossing.

But he was still human.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

Eventually, he had enough of sitting around waiting. He grabbed his jacket and left, convincing himself he only needed to clear his head.

But he knew the truth, he wanted to see you.

It didn't take long to find you. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was God. Either way, Michael's eyes found you almost instantly. There you were, laughing with your boyfriend, smiling so freely it almost made his chest ache.

Michael's jaw tightened the moment your boyfriend stepped away somewhere, probably the restroom. He had spent the last few minutes watching from a distance, trying to convince himself he wasn't bothered, but seeing you with him had only made that familiar ache return.

The second he was alone with you, Michael made his move.

He adjusted the sleeve of his jacket before making his way over to you. His appearance was simple, almost ordinary. A pair of dark glasses covered his eyes, and a jacket rested over his shoulders, hiding him just enough from wandering looks. It might have worked on strangers, but not on you.

You would know him anywhere.

It was in the way he carried himself, the way he moved, the quiet confidence that followed him even when he tried to disappear. Michael could cover his face, but he couldn't hide from someone who knew him as well as you did.

"Hey," he called to you quiet.

His voice was always so soft spoken, that's one of the reasons why you liked him. He never was quick to anger.

You turned your head, a little caught off guard in shocked. "Michael," you whispered his name. You felt your face get a lil too warm, the feeling that came in was close to embarrassed.

"What are you doing here?" You asked him.

Michael shrugged before answering with a little, "...I missed you."

He then tilted his head at you, studying your reaction, there was a quiet disappointment sitting behind his brown eyes. "I took off some time from the studio waiting for you. I thought you were gonna come down and well...." he didn't finish his sentence, but you knew what he was going to say.

He just wanted to spend time with you, like before. He thought you were going to choose him for once. The nights were you'd sneak out and kiss him so secretly behind your porch. Hands running all over his face, lips trembling against his so feverishly. He remembered every kiss you gave him and where it was. He remembered the way you would look at him before leaning closer, the way your smile would soften when it was just the two of you

So when he saw you do the same with another man, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

He looked at you for a moment, not saying anything. You shook your head slightly, "Michael I'm sorry, today just wasn't a good time." 'It's never a good time,' Michael thought to himself.

He then leaned up off the wall, "...You could have told me, I'd understand."

"I know...but..." the words couldn't leave your lips so Michael finished it for you.

"But you were too busy with your boyfriend?"

You scoffed quietly, the comment hitting a little too close to home. The way he said it made you feel exposed, it made clear how much of two faced you were being. He stared at you, eyes low. "Yeah, I was," you replied to him.

"Funny," Michael said quietly.

"You had time to go out with him," he said, his voice calm but carrying a quiet frustration. "You had time to laugh with him, spend the afternoon with him, kiss him…"

He paused, "But I couldn't get one phone call?"

"It was just a kiss on the cheek Michael, and I was going to call you," you insist.

"I know where the kiss was y/n," Michael scoffed under his breath, "It's not the point."

"I left you all alone, thinking you would pick up the phone and you didn't...I just....it's iffy." he shook his head. He then shifted his weight onto his other foot, almost uncomfortable at the situation.

"...I've been seeing you for months," he shakes his head again. "Months, you won't even hold my hand outside."

"But him..." his eyes finally meet yours. "...he gets all the things I gotta imagine."

Your heart tightened hearing that. Michael was hurting. You gently bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze drifting to the pavement as you searched for something, anything that would make this easier. Every excuse sounded the same before it even left your mouth. Slowly, you looked back up at him.

"It's just… a bad time, Michael."

He'd heard those words enough times to know they didn't mean anything anymore. It was always a bad time. Slowly, he nodded, though the motion felt more like surrender than understanding. "Yeah…" he murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

The silence between you settled heavily, filled only by passing conversations and the distant hum of the city around you. After a moment, he looked away with a faint, tired smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"...You know, I wanted to have you today so you could hear the song I've been writing."

Your brows knitted together. "The one you've been workin' on?"

If only you knew what he meant then. He nodded at you, his eyes ran over your pretty face before meeting your eyes again.

"You've been askin' me about it, figured I'd finally play it for you." He glanced toward the area where your boyfriend had disappeared before looking back at you. Whatever hope had been sitting behind his eyes only moments ago had quietly faded.

"I guess…" he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Guess you'll hear it when everybody else does." And with that he walked away. You stood there, feeling some type of way.

It sounded like Michael meant more than what he just said, but you couldn't understand.

ᨳଓ .

A month had passed. Not a single phone call, no voicemail, not a knock at your door. Nothing.

Michael hadn't reached out once, and truthfully… neither had you. Where you both over? No, you didn't think so. At first, you told yourself he probably just needed space. After everything that happened, maybe it was for the best. But as the days stretched into weeks, the silence became harder to ignore. Was he avoiding you?

Maybe, and rightfully so. Every time you thought about picking up the phone, guilt settled in your stomach, convincing you it'd be easier to stay where you were. Hiding away with your 'boyfriend,' seemed better than talking out things with Michael.

That afternoon, you laid comfortably against your boyfriend's chest while the radio played softly in the background. His fingers lazily traced circles along your arm as station after station played songs that barely held your attention.

You were just about to drift off when a gentle melody filled the room. It was sweet, almost dreamy.

Without thinking, you nuzzled your face further into your boyfriend's chest, a small smile tugging at your lips. 'Finally, something good,' you thought to yourself. Then, a cheerful voice came through.

"Girlfriend, I'm gonna tell your boyfriend, yeah. Tell him, exactly what we're doin', yeah. Tell him what you do to me....late at night when the wind is free...."

It was Michael. On the radio.

Singing...about....

Your eyes widened in a quiet shock, but your boyfriend's face lit up almost immediately. He let out a small laugh, sitting up just enough to glance over at the radio before looking back at you.

"Hey!," he said with an easy grin, "ain't that Michael!?"

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

"...Yeah," you answered quietly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. You tried to settle back against his chest, forcing yourself to relax, but your body refused. Instead, guilt slowly crawled up the back of your neck, hot and suffocating.

'Guess you'll hear it when everybody else does.'

His words echoed in your mind so clearly it was almost as if he were standing beside you. This is what he meant. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your boyfriend's shirt as you listened more carefully. At first, the melody had sounded sweet, almost innocent feeling. But now every lyric felt heavier than the last. They weren't just words anymore.

"We're gonna have to tell him, You'll only be a girlfriend of mine."

Your brows pulled together at that, then a quiet scoff escaped your lips as you shook your head, almost in disbelief.

"Unbelievable…" you muttered beneath your breath. So this was the song he'd been talking about, this was the one he wanted you to hear so badly. But you never could just give him the time of day. Irritation started bubbling heavily in your chest. Really, Michael? You wanted to be angry. You were angry. It felt unfair, like he'd taken something private and wrapped it in a melody for the whole world to sing along to.

But gosh… was it pretty. There wasn't any bitterness in his voice.

Maybe a small hint of teasing, a little mocking tone buried beneath the sweetness of it all, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

You then sat up, "I gotta go."

Your boyfriend blinked, looking over at you in confusion. "Already?"

Before he could ask anything else, you were already reaching for your shoes and purse, trying to come up with a reason that didn't sound suspicious. "I, uh…" You cleared your throat.

"I forgot my mom said I need to help my sister with her sociology homework." It wasn't exactly a lie, your sister did need help. Just not from you.

She was already on campus getting assistance from one of her classmates, but it was the only excuse you could think of in the moment. Your boyfriend stared at you for a second, clearly confused by the sudden change of plans, but eventually he just nodded.

"Alright. I'll see you later then..."

Normally, you would've leaned in. Given him a kiss goodbye. Told him you'd call him later. But you couldn't, not when your mind was somewhere else entirely.

"...Yeah, bye," you said softly before walking out.

ᨳଓ . The drive home felt longer than usual, always as if you were driving in circles until you came across your stone mailbox. Your hands stayed tight around the steering wheel, your thoughts running in circles. You replayed every word he'd said that day, every moment you'd avoided him, every time you convinced yourself the situation would somehow fix itself.

But now he had said everything without actually saying anything.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, you already knew what you were going to do. You rushed inside, dropped your purse onto the counter, and immediately reached for the phone.

Your fingers hesitated over the numbers for just a moment. Then you dialed and waited for him to answer.

One ring...

Then another

Then another...

You stared at the phone, your brows slowly raising. "Oh?" you scoffed quietly to yourself. A small, humorless laugh left your lips.

That's real funny.

After a month of silence, after leaving you with a song full of words he couldn't say to your face, now he wanted to act like he wasn't available. You shook your head, though the little ache in your chest betrayed you. You hated that you were even surprised, you got so used to him calling you, you didn't even know what it felt like to be waiting on the other line.

Maybe you deserved it. Maybe this was his way of making you feel what he felt.

The ringing continued until the line clicked. It was a quiet silence, neither of you spoke first. As bad as your nerves was, they suddenly calmed at hearing his breathing on the phone.

"Hello," was all he said. Nothing sweet, not how he usually did. You swallowed, staring down at the floor as if the answer was somehow written there.

"Nice song," you said getting straight into it, your voice carried a little more bitterness than you intended.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Hm," Michael hummed quietly.

He knew you would call eventually. Maybe not that night. Maybe not the next day. But he knew. He had always been patient, that was one thing you could never take away from him.

"I'm glad it reached the right audience," he finally said, his voice smooth, almost sweet.

You immediately bit down on your tongue, of course he had to say it like that. He knew exactly how to relax and get under your skin, the same way you did him.

"Michael."

A small chuckle escaped him, but there wasn't much humor behind it. "Y/n," he said his voice becoming slightly firm again. He then leaned back in his seat while looking over some new lyrics he was writing.

"I'm a little busy right now. If you have something to say, say it to me in person." He paused. "Other than that, I'll be expecting you to pay your own phone bill."

You blinked, for a second, you almost laughed.

It was strange hearing him say that. Usually, he was the one reminding you not to worry about it. Usually, he'd insist on taking care of it before you even had the chance to argue.

But things were different now.

You scoffed softly, leaning your shoulder against the wall.

"So now you don't have time for me, Michael?" you asked, your voice calm, carrying that sweet little sarcastic edge he knew all too well. There was a pause, a long one which made you give a chuckle of your own.

"You're still mad about that kiss I gave him and not you?"

Michael's eyes glanced up from his notebook and looked onto the blank wall in front of him. The kiss...he felt himself getting irritated, again. He kept quiet, not saying anything.

For a second, you thought maybe you'd finally gotten a reaction out of him.

Then Michael quietly said, "I'm free tomorrow," and before you could respond, the line went dead.

The silence that followed rang in your ear. Your fingers tightened slightly around the phone as you stared ahead, caught somewhere between irritation and something you didn't want to admit.

He had gotten the last word but somehow, he still gave you a chance.

And yes, you were going to visit him tomorrow.

©cherrishkissed .ೃ࿔*:･

authors note; was listening to a song and got inspired, I had to write something that's it LMAO. not rlly proofread🌚

current taglist! °❀⋆

AND THE INVINCIBLE ALBUM IS SOOOO FUCKING UNDERRATED. literally top 3 albums :(

and the era is so underrated too.. he looked fine af