Untitled

[haraik]

CALLING ALL INCREDIBLE, MIND-BLOWING MJ FIC WRITERS!

ALRIGHT. I just saw a clip where Michael said Elizabeth Taylor used to hand-feed him sometimes because he struggled to eat. Soooo I’m begging🧎‍♀️can someone please write a fic where the reader feeds Michael? 🥹

AND THEN U GUYS DO WHATEVER YOU WANT.

[haraik]

HELP I CAN'T BREATH, someone said "the speediest jackson" 😭😭

[haraik]

in need of time machine fr

[mikesfavfish]

CHICAGO - michael jackson x fem reader

WARNINGS: mild smut, reader is still annoying sorry guys, not proof-read

WC: 2.8k

A/N: final part to Chicago, as requested :) lmk what you guys think, i wasn't sure what i wanted it to be but i knew a second part was needed. also, how do you guys feel about my smut writing.. pls share tips and opinions ;-)

2007

You’re taking deep breaths, adjusting your top in the mirror in the crowded bathroom. It was filled with girls dressed in sparkling gloves, exaggerated eyeliner, and some in fishnets so skimpy you were almost scared your outfit wasn’t revealing at all. 

You place your hand inside your top, pushing your cleavage to exaggeration. You need to stand out. After all, you got the attention of the superstar once; how hard can it be to get it again? 

You check your lipstick and walk out of the bathroom, giving the worker a courteous smile and nod as you hand her your ticket. Front row on the floor. It was almost risky, fans passing out, girls constantly trying to get ahold of just a touch of the King of Pop. Your plan could be ruined at any second if someone accidentally touches you or steals your light. Everyone in the crowd was your enemy- you were entering a war of chances. You needed this to go right. 

You look around, carefully inspecting your surroundings. You looked at the security, who were all talking with the performer's assistant. You mentally noted their distance from you and whether you had enough space to get out of the barricade in case they needed you. 

While waiting for the show to start, you mentally start making your grocery list for the weekend. You were in desperate need of food for your children’s school lunches. Oh, and you also needed to stock up on shampoo. That was definitely a must. A sharp cough interrupts your train of thought, and you turn to give whomever it was an annoyed look. They apologize and turn their back.

Seconds later, the band comes up on stage, and the lights turn off. Music begins to play, and you bite your lip. This was your chance, and you were praying to whoever was listening to give you your chance back.

The vocals and raw guitar melodies of “Dirty Diana,” a song that was rumored to be about a previous fling, begin to play, and you smirk. After some teasing of the rhythm, Michael jumps on stage, literally. He begins to sing, and you melt. I mean, how could you resist being chalant for the voice that would speak sweet nothings and everything to you every afternoon in bed? The voice that would guide you to your climax, the voice that would label you as the “beautiful angel” every time you’d bring him to his pleasure. 

He finishes singing all the songs off the “Bad” album, and he hops off stage for a few minutes for an outfit change. You take the opportunity to go to the bathroom. You make the smart choice of walking by the assistant’s place near the corner, and you make it your mission to catch her attention. You flip your hair over your shoulder and smile at the security guards. You almost miss her double-take if it weren’t for your mission. She continues staring at you, speaking into her radio as you walk off. You smirk, walking to the bathroom and taking another quick look in the mirror. 

You come back to your spot, rolling your eyes at the girl next to you as she begins to cry. Dramatic. Okay, that, and you were maybe a bit jealous. 

Michael introduces his band, and you begin to cheer and clap for the random dancers you don’t care for. Michael waves and smiles to the crowd, making it his mission to acknowledge every fan. His gaze falls to you, and he comes to a stop. A complete stop. His body freezes, and if it weren’t for his fists clenching next to his thighs, you’d almost think he’d gone paralyzed. He clears his throat, pointing to his team to bring him his bottle of orange juice. He drinks for a minute, shaking his head. He finishes his speech and allows his dancers to open the next song. 

Michael nods to another assistant on stage, whispering in his ear. He looks up and finds your face, nodding. He walks off stage, and you notice him laughing before he comes face-to-face with the earlier assistant you’d made eye contact with. Michael begins singing, and the soft tremble in your voice alerts you that your presence has affected him more than anyone else in that room. 

He loved his fans; he didn’t love you. And yet, you were the only thing in his mind as he began to sing and dance to his hit song, “The Lady in My Life.” He doesn’t know why he felt that way. He hadn’t seen you in five years, and yet, seeing your face reminded him of the constant loss he felt every day since he walked away from your door. He knew he had every right to be angry and hurt, and yet a part of him didn’t care that you had wronged him in such a disrespectful and pathetic way. He yearned for your body, your touch, and your seductive gaze every single night. He would stay up some nights and stare at his phone, wondering if you’d answer the phone if he called. One bold night after several beers, he rang you. He didn’t care about the consequences or what it made him look like, but he called. And he waited, and waited, until the call ended itself. No one answered. A part of his heart was happy no one answered; he didn’t need any distractions in his life after releasing his album and preparing for the tour. However, his body needed a distraction. It needed a release, a release that only you could provide. 

He wasn’t the only one affected by this pleasurable loss- you were in shambles, too. Every day since your husband and Michael walked through those doors together, you’ve punished yourself for being so careless and stupid. How could you not have found a better way to lie? 

You did the “ethical” thing and left your husband, and didn’t care twice to fight for custody after he threatened to take them away from you. It shocked him, and the rest of your friends and family, but you weren’t about to lower yourself for anybody, especially him. He tried telling everyone that you had cheated on him with Michael Jackson, and of course, nobody believed him. They called him paranoid and secretly justified the divorce. You still saw your children, of course. Your love for them was still greater than anything you ever had in the world; you just also loved freedom just as much. 

Which is what brings you to tonight. You bought tickets to Michael’s new tour. You were mad at yourself for even spending money on that man, but in the end, you’d know it’d be worth it. You were sure of that more than anything else in the world. 

Michael ends another segment, and furrows his brows as he looks over the crowd once again. You tilt your head, biting your lip as he rakes his eyes over you. You lick your lips and walk away, turning back to see him look at you until you’re out of his sight. You make a quick stop at the concession stand, grab a vodka soda, and run back to your space. 

“Thank you all for this special night so far, I love you all so much,” Michael says, speaking into the microphone and blushing as his fans scream, “tonight has been wonderful. Tonight has been my favorite night of the tour, but that’s a secret between us.” Michael teases and bows as his fans scream. You clap and wink at Michael as he looks at you. His look was indescribable. You could’ve been delusional, but you swear you saw a twinkle of lust in there, mixed with annoyance and irritation, of course. 

“This next song we’re about to sing to you is called ‘Chicago’. It’s a new one. This song is about lust, intimacy, betrayal, and beautiful girls who will break your heart, and yet, your body still yearns for them,” Michael says, keeping his eyes on you as you lick your lips. He begins to sing, and you take in every single vocal and dance move. Your knees begin to shake, and you have to remind yourself of self-respect as the steps across you begin to look too easy to crawl on. 

The rest of the night was a blur, you were too busy drowning down vodka sodas and sobering yourself up with some cold lemon water. The concert comes to an end, and you stay behind. You twiddle your fingers, feigning surprise, as the assistant approaches you and asks for your name. 

“Come with me, ma’am. Mr. Jackson has personally requested you accompany him on his ride back to the hotel.” You raise your brows but comply. The walk through the corridors filled with chatter gives you a sense of confidence you had lost in the past years. This was your second chance. You weren’t going to ruin it. 

You get dropped off outside a room with a  “knock three times and wait for the approval to come in” sign, and thank the assistant. You do as the sign says, and take a step back. You lean against the wall, staring right at the door. It opens, and you smile. 

“I missed you.” You both say after some time, and you immediately run to his arms, giving him a kiss. He opens his mouth and whines, closing and locking the door behind him as you aggressively hold onto his hair. 

You begin to run your hands across his wet chest when he pushes you off. You whine, and Michael shakes his head and places his hands on his hips, taking a breath. “No.” 

“Michael, baby, please.” 

He shakes his head, taking a seat across the mirror. You stand behind him, staring into his body, soul, and mind. 

“You’re a venomous thing, girl. Just waiting to pounce on somebody and suck anything that isn’t poison.”  

You laugh and spin him to face you. You take a seat on his lap and smirk as he groans. “Kick me out then. Send me back outside with the rest of your crazy fans and forget me forever.” 

Michael looks down, cursing silently before kissing you again, biting your lip, and taking advantage of his power as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He didn’t care that he should’ve left 5 minutes ago, or that he had rehearsals tomorrow morning. All of his responsibilities left the second you came into his arms. 

 He pushes you off again, keeping his grip on your waist as he collects his duffel bag. He opens the door and gives you a look. He takes his jacket off and places it over you, pulling your hair in the process. “Don’t need anybody else to admire what’s meant for me.” 

You smirk and comply, following Michael outside and into his car, watching him give directions to his security while waving to his fans. You rolled your eyes, looking around the limousine. You reach over and grab a lollipop, whining as Michael takes it from you. 

The drive to the hotel is short, filled with silence and heavy breaths that you both know what it means. You groan as Michael places a face mask on your face, laughing as you grumble in annoyance as it runs against your makeup. You walk inside, ignoring the looks of the staff as you walk hand-in-hand into the elevator. You turn to Michael, giving him a look. A look, he knew what it meant. “Not right now.”

“Then when?” 

“When I feel like it. I don’t owe you anything, last time I checked.” You roll your eyes as he grabs your wrist and walks into the room. You take your heels off as you walk to the bar, pouring yourself a whiskey. You walk to the stereo, connecting your phone and smirking as ‘Ignition’ comes on. Michael doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he takes his jacket off and throws it on the floor. He keeps his glasses on, and it makes you cross your legs as you sit down on the bed. 

“I’m not married anymore.” 

Michael huffs, “Like that mattered before.” 

You smirk and look up as Michael stands between your legs. You wrap them around his, leaning against the bed on your elbows. “I knew it never bothered you.” 

“Oh, it did bother me, but not for that reason.” 

“What reason, then?” 

Michael cups your chin, gently putting pressure on your neck as you moan. “I didn’t like the thought of me tasting you and going home to another man getting to eat what was mine.” 

You shake your head and laugh. “No one’s had me since you left.” 

Michael nods, biting his lip as he runs his hand over your head and down to your chest. “You broke my heart. I had to.” 

“You didn’t have to do anything, baby. You made yourself fall in love with me, didn’t you?” You whisper and smirk as Michael looks away, putting more pressure on his hand against your body. 

“You’re evil.” 

“But you love that, don’t you? That’s what calls you to still want me.” You say, pushing Michael’s hands off of your body as you bring his face down to yours. You crash your lips against his, biting his lips so hard he starts bleeding. None of you worry about it, though, as your clothes come off and you fall under the covers quickly. 

Michael groans as you grind yourself against him, biting his lip as you press kisses behind his ear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” You say, moaning as the pleasure reminds you of what you missed. 

“You’ve been my muse in the last five years, and I think I hate you for it.” 

You smile against his skin, gently sucking on his shoulder. “Then show me how much you hate me.” 

——————

You wipe off any sweat from yourself as you stand and grab another drink, opening the balcony doors as you take a seat on the chair. Michael follows after some time, nodding to your naked body. “You owe me.” You say, and Michael raises his brows.

“I paid $100 to come see you, not including what I had to go through to get the outfit done before tonight’s show.” 

Michael laughs, taking your glass of whiskey and drinking the rest. “All of that just to get it torn off your body.” 

You nod and smirk, turning to look at what’s left of your clothes. Michael stands and goes inside, coming back out with a checkbook. You laugh as he hands you a paper. “I was joking.” 

“You weren’t.” You shrug your shoulders and tuck the paper under the chair. Michael gives you a kiss and walks back inside, taking his spot on the bed as he turns the television on. 

You walk inside, place the glass cup on the counter, and wash your face. You breathe and turn to look at Michael. 

“When should I go?”

“Whenever you feel like it’s time to leave,” Michael says, crossing his arms behind his head. 

“That’d be never.” 

“Even better,” Michael says, and you jump on the bed, laughing as Michael grips your body and begins to place kisses on your legs. 

——————

You groan as the sunlight hits your face. You open your eyes, and your head begins to pound with pain. You sit up and look around. You recall the events of last night, and you laugh. 

You call out Michael’s name as you look around, and any trace of his existence in the room is gone. You shake your head. You walk back to bed, sitting down as you bite your lip. 

You feel the tears swell up in your eyes when the door opens, and Michael calls your name. You quickly stand and run to the door. Michael hugs you, and you cry. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he presses kisses on your face. 

“I thought you had left me, for real this time.” You say, shaking your head as the tone in your voice betrays the self-respect you’d preached all night long. 

“I don’t want to, but I need to know you want me as much as I want you.” 

You nod, pulling back to grip onto Michael’s sweatshirt. “No more games.” 

“No more games.” 

Michael kisses you, continuing to apologize when you smile. You look out the door, noticing the looks on his team's faces. You give them a wink, closing the door with your foot as you pull Michael to the bed, and into the captivation of your body. 

You weren’t sure if you’d feel dedicated the next morning, but for now, as Michael pressed kisses down your breasts and on your stomach, you knew you were where you wanted to be, and so was Michael. And that was more than enough dedication for you. 

[haraik]

so obsessed with mj that i feel like i don't need any more men in my life

[enteratrance]

He danced like a bad bitch

[mjswhispers]

[mjswhispers]

[mshoneylover]

Me patiently waiting for a load of Jaafar and Michael fics to drop since my obsession is back