soooooanxious

❤︎. imagine 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 mike! apologising cause he hates to see his angel hurt. ─── smau. ♥︎. masterlist

⚠️ +18. NSFW, thigh fucking, established relationship, mentions of cunnilingus.

Michael is terminally obsessed with your thighs.

He can’t help it, if he wanted to.

When asked at a very young age what he liked in a woman, he replied sassily: “I like their legs big.”

You thought it was a thing kids would say when cornered, something he just said in the moment when the host asked him and his brothers about girls, that it was just a cheeky comment.

But you certainly didn’t expect him to grow up and make you not only the object of his affection but also the receiver and only victim of his obsession.

And can you blame him in all honesty, when your thighs are the most delectable thing he’s seen in his life?

He’s seen thighs alright, had his fair share of eye candy during concerts, so having hams peeking under short skirts and dresses was like poison to him.

Then, came you, all pretty and everything he wanted. And the cherry on top… Your thighs.

Oh, how they made him crazy.

And of course he couldn’t give in with his dirtiest thoughts headfirst. No, he had to court you first, he wanted to do so as well. How can he not? He had never been this convinced before of marrying someone, and the more he knew you, the more convinced he was.

It all started soft, of course, there’s no other way he could be when you were soft to him too. It was, after all, what he needed under the limelight and the flashes and the spotlight, not to mention other celebrities he felt like he had to constantly watch his back over, so your softness that matched his, was a welcome warmth he was willing to relish, even if he would break hearts if your relationship got public.

His touches were soft, shy, bony fingers just barely grazing the clothed skin of your thighs when you were sat together watching a movie at his place, or at the drive-in. It was just because he wanted to touch you, to feel your warmth through fabric and to feel grounded in the sea of nerves that being this close to you awoke. He’d draw patterns with his fingertips, tickling your skin slightly.

“I like those jeans, baby. You look stunning in them.”

Then it started to get bolder, when you did too, and you’d dress up to your dates with short skirts and pretty dresses that would show off your juicy thighs. He selfishly thinks you’re doing it on purpose, doing it for him, to taunt him, sitting so pretty next to him… And when his large hand sits on top of your bare thigh and you don’t protest, he slowly lets his touch be a little less innocent; the patterns drawn on your skin become playful squeezes that make you squirm, that make you giggle, and he could tape your reactions to rewatch them forever, rewatch the way his fingers wrap and sink around the fat.

“So pretty, ma. So, so pretty…”

And then his hand would travel higher. It’s at this point he knows you are doing it on purpose, only wearing clothes that grant him easy access to allow his slender fingers a little higher and his thumb to stroke the plush of your inner thighs, every time closer to where you start to feel like you need him the most.

“Wan’ something, baby?”

He eats you out like a man starved, and his hands are always squeezing your thighs hard. When you’re close and your body starts to squirm and arch, your legs also close around his head, and your  pretty sounds are now muffled by the softness of your inner thighs against his ears. He’s addicted to that feeling, and the combination of it with your taste has made him cum in his pants only by eating you out at least twice. He’s shy afterwards, but not embarrassed, because he trusts that you understand his predicament, you understand that you’re so hot and your legs are his demise, it’s only natural a thing like that can happen.

“Y’taste like heaven, pretty. Yeah… yeah, squeeze those legs around me, darlin’… Give it to me.”

And boy, it gets worse, because sometimes he’s so desperate to have you and the sight of your thighs naked and shimmery have him buzzing with need, so he’ll have your pretty legs squeezed together and fuck your thighs ruthlessly, using your juices to coat his leaking cock, shiny with your arousals now disappearing and re-appearing between your inner thighs. The sight is filthy, and you’re as embarrassed as you’re turned on, because you can’t believe that something this simple about you can turn your man on the way that it does, to the point of having him pathetically rutting and thrusting helplessly, completely dressed, and using your thighs to get off.

And when he does... It's a show he can't miss, it's a show he needs to be present and aware of what he just created, so when your plush thighs are marked with his cum, he reaches down to squeeze them to spread his seed on your skin, delighted and shaky.

⚠️ +18. NSFW, thigh fucking, established relationship, mentions of cunnilingus.

Michael is terminally obsessed with your thighs.

He can’t help it, if he wanted to.

When asked at a very young age what he liked in a woman, he replied sassily: “I like their legs big.”

You thought it was a thing kids would say when cornered, something he just said in the moment when the host asked him and his brothers about girls, that it was just a cheeky comment.

But you certainly didn’t expect him to grow up and make you not only the object of his affection but also the receiver and only victim of his obsession.

And can you blame him in all honesty, when your thighs are the most delectable thing he’s seen in his life?

He’s seen thighs alright, had his fair share of eye candy during concerts, so having hams peeking under short skirts and dresses was like poison to him.

Then, came you, all pretty and everything he wanted. And the cherry on top… Your thighs.

Oh, how they made him crazy.

And of course he couldn’t give in with his dirtiest thoughts headfirst. No, he had to court you first, he wanted to do so as well. How can he not? He had never been this convinced before of marrying someone, and the more he knew you, the more convinced he was.

It all started soft, of course, there’s no other way he could be when you were soft to him too. It was, after all, what he needed under the limelight and the flashes and the spotlight, not to mention other celebrities he felt like he had to constantly watch his back over, so your softness that matched his, was a welcome warmth he was willing to relish, even if he would break hearts if your relationship got public.

His touches were soft, shy, bony fingers just barely grazing the clothed skin of your thighs when you were sat together watching a movie at his place, or at the drive-in. It was just because he wanted to touch you, to feel your warmth through fabric and to feel grounded in the sea of nerves that being this close to you awoke. He’d draw patterns with his fingertips, tickling your skin slightly.

“I like those jeans, baby. You look stunning in them.”

Then it started to get bolder, when you did too, and you’d dress up to your dates with short skirts and pretty dresses that would show off your juicy thighs. He selfishly thinks you’re doing it on purpose, doing it for him, to taunt him, sitting so pretty next to him… And when his large hand sits on top of your bare thigh and you don’t protest, he slowly lets his touch be a little less innocent; the patterns drawn on your skin become playful squeezes that make you squirm, that make you giggle, and he could tape your reactions to rewatch them forever, rewatch the way his fingers wrap and sink around the fat.

“So pretty, ma. So, so pretty…”

And then his hand would travel higher. It’s at this point he knows you are doing it on purpose, only wearing clothes that grant him easy access to allow his slender fingers a little higher and his thumb to stroke the plush of your inner thighs, every time closer to where you start to feel like you need him the most.

“Wan’ something, baby?”

He eats you out like a man starved, and his hands are always squeezing your thighs hard. When you’re close and your body starts to squirm and arch, your legs also close around his head, and your  pretty sounds are now muffled by the softness of your inner thighs against his ears. He’s addicted to that feeling, and the combination of it with your taste has made him cum in his pants only by eating you out at least twice. He’s shy afterwards, but not embarrassed, because he trusts that you understand his predicament, you understand that you’re so hot and your legs are his demise, it’s only natural a thing like that can happen.

“Y’taste like heaven, pretty. Yeah… yeah, squeeze those legs around me, darlin’… Give it to me.”

And boy, it gets worse, because sometimes he’s so desperate to have you and the sight of your thighs naked and shimmery have him buzzing with need, so he’ll have your pretty legs squeezed together and fuck your thighs ruthlessly, using your juices to coat his leaking cock, shiny with your arousals now disappearing and re-appearing between your inner thighs. The sight is filthy, and you’re as embarrassed as you’re turned on, because you can’t believe that something this simple about you can turn your man on the way that it does, to the point of having him pathetically rutting and thrusting helplessly, completely dressed, and using your thighs to get off.

And when he does... It's a show he can't miss, it's a show he needs to be present and aware of what he just created, so when your plush thighs are marked with his cum, he reaches down to squeeze them to spread his seed on your skin, delighted and shaky.

Considering what’s happening in America right now, it feels even more personal and enraging. Her excuse that she thought she would be accepted because “Michael loves everyone” made my blood boil because how dare you try to gaslight yourself out of this situation.

Michael Jackson would never co-sign someone lying about being a black american for clicks. He was a proud Black man who endured relentless erasure and misrepresentation. To exploit his fanbase, especially knowing how many Black Americans are active in these spaces — is unforgivable. Using AAVE, centering Black girls in your tumblr posts, and hiding behind a username like EBONYMUSE wasn’t accidental. It was calculated.

ebony has always been tied to Black culture, it’s literally one of the top p°rn categories. . so to pretend otherwise is insulting and idgaf that’s she’s British, that actually makes shit worse that she isn’t American but is using black AMERICAN language/terms. She knew what she was doing, and she thought she wouldn’t get caught. She weaponized identity to gain credibility in a space where Black voices are already marginalized

as far as I’m concerned, she can stay gone. And WE do not need to forgive her. There are plenty of actual Black writers on Tumblr who are creating incredible Michael Jackson fics and deserve just as much attention. So my final word with this! Let this scandal be a warning to any other writers who are trying to use black fans for views and popularity on here.

Because it’s disrespectful, not only to yourself but to everyone else who reads your posts when you’re out selling a lie. michaels legacy deserves better, black fans deserve better, and black writers deserve the recognition they’ve earned without someone exploiting their identity for clicks.

ok thanks!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽😁

Pretty sure this is you girl, behind an anon. Oh you mean mock her for disrespecting us the way we were mocked just for being black?? Do you know how dehumanizing it is to have an entire movement be made just because a certain group of people wanna show off how much they hate you?? IT WILL ALWAYS be that deep with me. Our culture that we have built and celebrated is NOT to be mimicked and used for the profits of others. Idgaf and I said that many times already. Bye. Where was the concern for OUR mental health when we were being beaten just because or not being allowed to do certain things just because we’re black?? It’ll be a cold day in hell I feel bad for somebody getting the consequences for something they were WILLINGLY AND FULLY UNDERSTANDING of what they were doing. Don’t piss me off.

MICHAEL HAS OFFICIALLY HIT 1B in box office. THE FIRST EVER BLACK BIOPIC TO DO THAT!! THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY TAKE A MF PICTURE!

After sitting your boyfriend down on the bed to show him a “surprise”, you unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down along with underwear to show him the heart you had your wax technician leave with your pubic hair.

“Like it?” You questioned innocently, as if your bare pussy wasn’t being flaunted in his face. He was shocked, but pleasantly. You had to stop him from trying to devour you right then and there, telling him that you were told to wait at least three days before any intercourse.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Michael more needy in your life in the days that followed, with him being extra clingy, doing silly things like standing behind you while you brushed your teeth in only your panties, watching intently while you undressed for your showers, and giving you puppy dog eyes while trying to convince you to let him just touch you, saying things like “only your clit”, to which you denied countless times. He resorted to just staring you down as you walked the house, only thinking about stuffing his face, hands, or better yet, his dick in between your bare cunt.

His last straw came when he awoke from his slumber and saw you cooking breakfast in his favorite nightgown that you owned. He stood to the side of you, hand wrapped around your waist as he peered onto the pan of sausage you were cooking.

“Smells good,” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eye. “What is today?”

“Monday..? Why’d you ask?” You looked at him with a chuckle and raised eyebrows, confused at the odd question. Before you could prod him further, he now stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while laying his head on your shoulder.

“Mmm,” He groaned sleepily, hand traveling up your body to grip your breast over your clothes. “That’s wonderful.” you could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

“Michael. Hands off. Wait until tonight,” You swatted his hand away before picking up the spatula to flip the food, holding the handle of the pan with the other. You were surely horny and ovulating, but you still didn’t want to risk anything.

“Baby please,” He muttered, and with a quick movement of his hand, the back of your nightgown was pulled up to reveal your bare ass. “And you’re not wearing anything under here. You want me to go crazy.” He whined, and you let out a loud sigh before quickly reaching back to hit his hand again.

“Michael. You don’t listen. I told you, just wait until tonight. I’m gonna burn this damn meat if you don’t leave me alone right now.”

“Let me just look, please..I won’t do anything.” He asked again, but he didn’t need to as he took matters into his own hands and lifted up your gown again, pulling up the fabric to bunch it up at your abdomen as he stared at the fat of your ass—and best of all— the cute little heart that sat on your pubis.

You ignored him at this point, letting him take the piss, rolling your eyes to yourself as you went back to cooking, lifting the pan up to shake the goodness, making your ass jiggle a bit in the process. Michael audibly groaned at this, gripping your ass in his hands and shaking it again for his entertainment.

“Cut it out. You’re getting worked up,” You strained, lowering the heat now as your sear on the meat was almost perfect. “Go sit on the couch and wait for the food. I’ll give you a little attention then.”

There was silence, and you thought he was thinking it over like a rational person, until you felt something hard pressing at your folds. You let out a gasp, ready to completely go off on him, but within seconds his cock was already slid deep inside of you. Completely taking you from behind, he let out a drawn out moan at the feeling he had been craving, his big hands coming around to grip your upper thighs for leverage. Your jaw dropped open at the sheer audacity, as well as the pleasure that was now surging through your body.

“God,” He cursed under his breath as he got used to your warmth, gyrating his hips in a circular motion that had your brain going dumb. “I’m so sorry,” He half apologized, beginning to slowly pull himself in and out of you, coating himself in your essence. “Woke up thinking about you, about this..”

“You’re beyond full of shit..” You choked out, breathlessly, wobbly hands going to turn the fire off under the food you knew wasn’t getting finished anytime soon.

“I know, I know,” He whined sleepily. He pulled your back flush to him, leaving little to no room between the two of you, moving his hands from your thighs to grip both of your clothed tits as he sped up his thrusts. “But I just can’t help it. You’re so wet.”

Broken moans began to fall out of your mouth as he was practically using you for his pleasure, leaving you helpless in his grip.

“I love you baby, mean it,” You could hear his mouth fall open, panting heavily as you could feel his breath against your head. The wet noises coming from him fucking you were obscene. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Forgive me.” He whimpered and panted heavily in between his thrusts, moving one of his hands down to cup your pussy, thumb running over the patch of hair.

“M’ gonna cum, inside of you, right now,” He babbled aimlessly in your ear, far too gone from the pleasure, letting out all kinds of desperate noises whilst he thrusted his hips into you similarly to a horny dog in heat.

With one last shaky thrust of his hips, he spilled inside of you, coming completely undone as his body convulsed and cock twitched harshly inside of you.

“Oh, baby, shit,” He moaned almost too loud in your ear, rocking his hips a few more times before coming to a stop and cockwarming you. “I’m sorry.” He placed a kiss to your cheek, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

“I’m buying you a dick cage.”