miss tina snow ❄️

His Mean Ass Gf! who he fell in love with at first sight. He and his brothers were at the club on a random Saturday Night and even through the music, he could hear you yelling. Apparently Jermaine bumped into you, spilling your drink on your new top and you didn’t even give him the chance to apologize before you were cursing him out. Michael felt his heart soar watching you give his brother the 5th degree.

His Mean Ass Gf! who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and encourage him to do so as well.

His Mean Ass Gf! who didn’t like watching people speak over him or cut him off. You were quick to shut that shit down immediately.

“Everybody shut the hell up. My baby is trying to talk!”

His Mean Ass Gf! who had no problem whatsoever sending an order back if they brought him the wrong thing.

“Miss lady, he didn’t order this. Take it back, please and thank you.”

He was too nice to make a fuss and he would rather just suffer through food he didn’t want than make a server do extra work. However, he adored the little smile you’d give him when the correct dish would be brought back.

His Mean Ass Gf! who didn’t like fans interrupting your time with him. Like say, you two are out at a restaurant and some fans want an autograph or a hug as if you’re not sitting right there… and you just simply can’t have that.

“Aye you need to back up off my man before I have to show my ass up in these people’s nice establishment.”

Michael would always lightly scold you for being rude to his fans but later he’d pepper kisses all over your face for your possessiveness. “My jealous baby,” he would whisper in your ear while you both lay in bed. He loved it.

His Mean Ass Gf! who always stood up for him. To whomever, it didn’t matter. Even if it was his brothers making fun of him for how much he deferred to you, how much he did for you, how affectionate he was with you. All it took was hearing Jackie say to Michael:

“Man, she’s got you whipped. Can’t no woman ever have me massaging her feet and making her hot chocolate.”

“Sigmund, I know you’re not talking bout nobody after that lady ran over your lyin’ dog ass.”

That shut the oldest Jackson boy up with the quickness. He never said anything against your relationship with his brother ever again. Michael never had to say a word because he knew you could handle it.

His Mean Ass Gf! who loves that people knew you didn’t play about Michael Joseph Jackson.

Unintentionally eavesdropping on a convo between the brothers, you heard Tito say to your boyfriend, “Mike, bro, your girl bout mean as hell.”

And you heard Michael laugh a little before replying, “you damn right.”

His Mean Ass Gf! who never got over Jermaine spilling your drink that night you met. He was on perpetual thin ice and he always had something slick to say. All he had to do was open his mouth in your direction and you’d cut him off, “Don’t start with me, ‘Maine.”

It was more like a love-hate relationship for sure. He was like your third favorite brother of Michael’s. (Your favorite being Marlon.)

His Mean Ass Gf! who even got irritable with himself at times. Especially when you were 38 weeks pregnant with your first child. It seemed like your patience was razor thin the closer you got to your due date. The tiniest things would set you off, like when Michael’s allergies were getting the better of him and he sneezed 3 times in a row while you were reading.

“Mikey, my sweet angel baby, please don’t piss me off.”

All he could do was apologize and promise it wouldn’t happen again, then you’d send him that sweet smile he craved and all would be well again.

'Recycling'

thrad!michael x black!reader

summary :: your boyfriend invited you over to watch a movie after not being able to see him in weeks, but plans go to waste as his lupus starts to flare up.

warnings :: physical pain , suffering , lupus (not mentioned but hinted at) , not proofread / edited !

a/n :: yes, i use em-dashes. no, i don’t use ai

Gravel crunched beneath your tires as you drove up the familiar driveway of havenhurst. Michael — your boyfriend of a year and a half, had invited you over after not being able to see each other as he worked on his upcoming album.

For the past couple of weeks, every phone call had ended the same.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart... I promise I'll make it up to you."

Just as you pressed the small button to the doorbell, the front door swung open, Michael stood at the other side, his smile widening as soon as you caught his eye.

You giggled as he wrapped both arms around your middle, pulling you into a tight hug almost lifting you off the ground.

"I missed you, mama," he mumbled into your thick coils.

"I missed you too," you replied, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, accepting the tight embrace.

Eventually, he let go, stepping aside so you could step into the foyer, closing the door behind you.

He placed a hand at the small of your back, guiding you into the living room.

The lights were slightly dimmed, a large bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table.

You sat down on the couch, making yourself comfortable as he went over to the rack by the TV, searching through the stack of VHS tapes before pulling out one for the two of you to watch, before sliding it into the VCR.

Michael dropped himself down on the couch beside you, grabbing the bowl, placing it in his lap as his other arm slid around your shoulders.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you curled up next to him as the movie began.

At first, everything seemed fine.

He muttered small comments, laughed at the funny scenes, and absentmindedly shoved hand fulls of popcorn into his mouth.

Then, about halfway through the movie, his laughter quieted.

He shifted repeatedly, his fingers flexed and tightened against his knee, from the corner of your eye you could see his jaw tighten as he try to subtly press a hand against his ribs.

"You okay?" you asked, peeling your eyes from the TV screen, that's when you noticed his face had become paler than when you'd arrived.

"Hm?" he hummed, shifted again.

"Are you okay?" you repeated.

He gave a small nod. "Yeah."

You tried to let it go, focusing back on the movie, but a few minutes later, you heard a small wince escape passed his lips.

You reached for the remote on the coffee table, pausing the television.

"Why'd you pause it?" he asked, looking over to you.

"You're in pain," you pointed, your eyes filling with concern.

He shook his head. "I'm not—"

"Michael."

He opened his mouth to argue again, but quickly snapped it shut as he looked down to his hands, sighing in defeat.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, grabbing the bowl of popcorn from his lap, placing it back on the coffee table.

"I didn't want to ruin tonight," he muttered softly. "I finally had one free night to spend with you, and I though if I ignored it, it'll go away."

You shook your head, grasping onto his hand gently, careful not to worsen his pain. "You don't have to suffer in silence, Mikey. If you're hurting, I want to know."

"I know," he sighed, his inner eyebrows lifted, his eyes finally meeting yours. "Would it be okay if we called it a night?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "We can finish the movie another night."

Michael eased stood up from the couch, slowly making his way upstairs. Just as he changed into his pajamas, you stepped inside his bedroom with a glass of orange juice and a small bottle of ibuprofen.

"Thank you," he mumbled, grabbing the items from your hands.

You settled beside him on the bed as he took the medication, setting the glass on his bedside table.

He rolled over to his side, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck, as his legs tangled with yours.

This was hella cute I loved writing it !! Thank you anon🥹

“Fuck.” You murmur under your breath, you switch the lamp by your beside on, warm lighting hovering over your blood that was absorbing the white sheet.

You look at the spot, tears daring to brim from your eyes, it was embarrassing to you, to say the least. This had never happened before, especially with Michael. You wipe your teary eyes and attempt to control your sniffles as you make your way to the bathroom grabbing a towel.

You attempt to scrub the red spot but it just wasn’t coming off, you see Michael stir and you immediately put a blanket over the area. “Baby?” He rose up staring at you, knees tucked to your chest as you sat on the hardwood floor avoiding his eyes.

“Hey.” He whispers softer, “Get back in bed, I couldn’t feel you in my arms—I got worried.” He softly snickers, you would laugh too but—you couldn’t find it in you, the embarrassment started to kick in, you couldn’t find a way to tell him. You stand up, meeting his eyes.

He lifts the blanket up inviting you in, your eyes shoot to the red spot, “Michael I—” You begin, your words swallowing themselves. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but then his eyes slowly travel down.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Is the first thing that flies from his mouth, “It’s embarrassing.” You bury your face in your hands feeling yourself heat up. He makes his way towards your side in an instant bringing you into a tight hug.

“It’s really nothing to be embarrassed about I grew up with sisters, y/n.” He kisses the side of your face. “And it’s a natural thing mama, I don’t want you to be embarrassed to tell me these things.” He begins to strip the sheets off, you stand to the side, arms hugging yourself.

He throws the sheets aside, before spinning around to you. “Stop that, mama—you’re getting into your head about this situation, it’s really nothing at all, I promise you.” He takes your hand pressing a kiss onto it. “I’ll run you some bath water.”

A small smile glides across your face, “Okay.” You grab one of Michael’s big t shirts along with a new pair of underwear. You make your way towards the bathroom as you enter you see rose petals in the shower along with a bath bomb and some bath salts. “Michael!” You snort, “this is too much.”

He takes you in by the waist, trailing kisses all down your neck. “Nothing is ever too much for m’lady.” You catch his lips, “it’s 4am, Michael.” You protest, “time doesn’t ever exist with us.”You playfully nudge him, “so sappy.”

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Dont say that ! • Michael x reader

⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ Michael seems to always get shy when you call him sexy no matter how long you two have been together !

𑣲⋆ warnings : None !

It was already way past your bedtime, long past the time when the sun had gone down, and the stars and moon came up for the night, signaling to all the night creatures that it was time to come out. The high-pitched sounds of crickets chirping outside the window made it even clearer that it was way past the time you usually slept. The light from your laptop veiled over the room as Michael sat with his glasses nearly slipping off his nose, taking his own trip down memory lane.

It all started with a simple video of him during his Jackson Five era. That iconic video of him in his purple hat, which sat at an angle on top of his small afro, singing "Who's Loving You."

“Aw, Mikey, you look so cute,” you pointed at the screen, giggling at how cute he looked with his big, round, doe-like eyes and his hat that seemed almost too big for his frame, but it was fitting for the time as he swayed to the music.

Then, the making of Thriller appeared in the YouTube suggestions, that big boyish grin on his face as John Landis flipped him upside down and he yelled out. His laughter cut through the speakers of your laptop.

“I had a lot of fun with Thriller,” he spoke, pointing at the screen and laughing at one of the moments on the screen.

“I really wanted people to create better.”

“What are you saying, the videos at the time were complete trash?”

“No, no, I didn't say that,” he put his hands up defensively, earning a laugh from you as you clicked on the next video of him during Bad era at Wembley. The giant belt strapped across the waistline of his black pants, paired with the thigh belts that were loosely strapped to his thighs, became the star of the show in your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey, you look really sexy here, still do too," you cooed, placing a hand on his arm as you nudged him.

"C'mon, don't say things like that."

"What? That you're sexy?" You teased lightly, watching that familiar look, like a boy whose crush just talked to him for the first time.

"Exactly, it makes me all shy. It's embarrassin" he nudged his glasses upwards, pushing them higher on the bridge of his nose as he tried his best to keep his composure

"We've been together this long, and you can't handle me calling you sexy?"

"It's still just as embarrassin as when you did it the first time."

"Oh, hush.”

©angelfacediary

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