ೀ—mj

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

[jacksoncntrl]

──── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 to 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐥★:

[jacksoncntrl]

Part 2:

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 ⋆‧° 𓏲ּ𝄢

Part 1: Posted.

Pairings - bad!michael jackson x Y/N

Summary - Your husband (MICHAEL) finally calls but you hear a woman’s voice on the other side of the receiver . But you have the perfect revenge plan.

The call never came back.

For the first few hours, you told yourself there had been a mistake.

Maybe the line disconnected?

Maybe Michael was going to call again.

Or just MAYBE it wasn’t a woman’s voice.

Maybe it was his sister?

Maybe……

That word became a prison.

You stayed besides the telephone until sunrise.

Overthinking.

Waiting.

Staring.

Listening for it to ring.

It never did.

And when the morning came, the cruel reality stayed the same.

Michael was gone.

Again.

You and him were OVER.

The words replayed in your endlessly in your head.

Like a knife being twisted deeper and deeper in your chest.

“Michael, who are you talking to?”

You laughed, a broken laugh.

Then another.

Then suddenly you were crying.

Violently.

The kind that made it harder to breathe, the kind that left your ribs aching.

You sank onto the floor and buried your face in your hands. How stupid. How unbelievably stupid.

For two months you had waited. For two months you defended him. For two months you had convinced yourself there had to be a reason.

But now?

Now all you could picture was Michael laughing somewhere with someone else while you sat alone in the dark waiting for a phone call.

Waiting for him.

Always waiting for him.

The realization hit harder than anything else.

You were tired of waiting.

For the first time in months, you stopped waiting by the phone.

You stopped checking messages.

Stopped hoping.

Stopped dreaming about apologies that would never come.

You started saying yes again.

Yes to interviews.

Yes to photoshoots.

Yes to parties.

Yes to living.

And slowly, piece by piece, you started putting yourself back together.

Not for Michael.

For you.

Then one afternoon your manager rushed into your office looking like he’d just witnessed a miracle.

“You are never going to believe who called.”

You barely looked up from the magazine in your hands.

“I don’t care.”

“Oh, trust me.”

A grin spread across his face.

“You care.”

He placed a card on your desk.

Your eyes drifted toward it.

Then widened.

Your breath caught.

Prince.

You stared.

Certain you were imagining it.

Then you looked again.

Still there.

Prince.

An invitation.

To accompany him to the Grammy Awards.

The room suddenly felt very small.

Everyone knew about Prince and Michael.

The rivalry was legendary.

Every headline compared them.

Every award show turned into a competition.

Every success for one became a loss for the other.

Your manager watched carefully.

Waiting.

Slowly, your fingers closed around the invitation.

And for the first time in months…

You smiled.

Not sadly.

Not wistfully.

Dangerously.

Because suddenly an idea began forming in your mind.

A terrible idea.

A reckless idea.

The kind of idea born from heartbreak.

And anger.

Lots and lots of anger.

“What should I tell him?” your manager asked.

You stared at the invitation.

Then thought about the unanswered months.

The empty bed.

The tears.

The woman on the phone.

When you finally looked up, there was fire in your eyes.

“Tell Prince…”

You folded the invitation carefully.

“…I’ll see him at the Grammys.”

Your manager’s jaw dropped.

A thrill shot through you.

For the first time since Michael disappeared.

You weren’t the one waiting anymore.

And somewhere in Los Angeles, completely unaware of what was coming…

Michael Jackson was about to have the worst night of his life.

TAGS:

@hoe-4-ficitionalmen @rlm-11 @pikadot @heyitsconysstuff @redbulllover444 @nunusmoll @marley1773 @nodisdino @helalokithor @forgottennoot @moonwalker4you @livingblythedoli

[jacksoncntrl]

Part 1 :

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 ⋆‧° 𓏲ּ𝄢

pairings- bad!michael jackson x Y/N

summary - After 58 days of no communication, michael finally calls.

It was in the middle of the night you were lost deep in your thoughts staring at the ceiling of your room.

The wind was howling and blowing your curtains through the wide opened windows when you heard your telephone ringing.

“Who could this be?” You thought.

You weren’t expecting any calls at all so this was unusual.

You picked up the receiver with one hand and lent on the wall patiently waiting for a voice to speak on the other end.

…

“Im sorry”

The voice was barely above a whisper . Yet it hit you like a freight train.

Your entire body froze.

Every muscle locked.

Every thought disappeared one by one.

Because you knew that unforgettable voice, you could recognise it anywhere. Even after months of silence, after all the hurt, after all the tears.

“Michael?” You whispered , your voice cracked on his name.

There was another pause this time only longer.

Then a small, broken sigh from the other end.

“Im sorry Y/N, I should’ve told you that I was going to Disneyland for a few weeks. ”

The sound of his voice made your chest ache. You hated that it did.

That after everything you still reacted to him like this.

Your grip tightened around the receiver as he called out for you.

“Baby?”.

Sorry?

Sorry?!

That was all he had to say?

It’s been nearly 2 months since you and your husband properly spoke, you were enraged that he left and ghosted you for so long . You didn’t even know how to react. Two months were simply too long.

After leaving you to wonder every day if your marriage was falling apart?

Your anger surged so suddenly it almost made you dizzy.

The room began to spin as your heart pounded so violently against your ribs.

You opened your mouth, a thousand furious words threatening to spill out at once.

But before you could say a single one —

Your heard it.

A sound.

A voice.

This time it wasn’t Michael’s.

But someone else’s .

Faint.

Distant.

A woman’s voice.

And then…

“Michael, who are you talking to?”

Your blood ran cold and your pulse began to quicken.

Silence.

Complete silence.

The grip on the receiver nearly slipped from your fingers.

Because Michael didn’t answer her.

And he didn’t answer you either.

“Michael?”

Nothing.

Your breathing became uneven.

“Michael… who was that?” You asked, your voice already trembling not knowing to cry or to be angry.

The line crackled.

A sharp inhale came from the other end.

As if he was trying to say something.

As if he was trying to explain.

And then..

The call disconnected.

Just like that.

The dial tone echoed through the room.

And suddenly, for the first time since hearing his voice—

You were terrified.

[jacksoncntrl]

࣪˖ ִ˖˚: 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧 | ࣪˖ ִ

pairings -

Dangerous era m.j x female!reader

summary - michael comes home to a suprise.

It was almost three in the morning when michael got home.

The house was dark except for the warm glow of a lamp someone had forgotten to switch off.

He quietly set his bag down and loosened his jacket, exhausted from rehearsals, interviews, and an endless day that seemed to stretch forever. “Mya?” he called softly.

Silence.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

He already knew where she’d be.

Sure enough, there she was. Curled up on the couch. Asleep, waiting for him.

A blanket had slipped halfway onto the floor, and a movie neither of them had finished still played silently on the television.

Michael stood there for a moment.

Just looking at her.

Admiring her.

Most people saw Mya on magazine covers. On stage beneath spotlights. Surrounded by screaming crowds.

But this?

This, was his favorite version of her.

Sleepy.

Comfortable.

Real.

One of her hands was still clutching a note she’d been writing earlier. Her handwriting trailed off halfway through a sentence.

She must have fallen asleep trying to stay awake for him.

His chest tightened.

Not with sadness.

With something much softer.

Something that made the longest days worth it.

Carefully, so carefully, he crouched beside the couch and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

Mya stirred slightly. Her eyes opened just enough to find his eyes.

“You made it home,” she mumbled still not fully awake.

Michael smiled.

“Yeah.”

A sleepy smile appeared on her face.

“Good.”

And just like that, she drifted off to sleep again.

Michael chuckled quietly.

Then he leaned down and pressed the gentlest kiss to her temple.

This was the kind of side nobody saw of them.

The kind that never ended up in newspapers.

The kind that mattered most.

For a moment, he simply stayed there, watching her sleep.

Feeling strangely lucky.

Out of all the chaos in the world, somehow he had found his way back home to her.