I Love MJ And Jaafar

this is like one of my fav vids of michael.. because of his SMILE (he looks so happy), his VOICE (the rasp🫦), his HEIGHT (those long ass legs ommgg), his OUTFIT (esp those gold pants hollyy fuck), his HAIR, the way he’s even swinging his arm on time. literally just him. JUST HIM. EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM. I NEED HIMMMMMMMMMMM.

you’ll play my song? 🪽

no warnings just pure fluff!!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ wc: 0.5k

“Mikeyyy.” Your face immediately lights up as you see him standing at the front door with his arms out for you—you had just gotten your wisdom teeth out and refused to listen to anyone until you saw michael so, your best friend did just that. Dropping you off over at his. “She’s all yours big guy, wouldn’t shut up about you.” He smiles, “Hey mama.” You fall into his arms, “mmmhhhh you smell soo good, you all prepared for me?” You attempt to kiss his lips but he dodges your mouth stuffed with bloody gauze.

“I would kiss those pretty lips, but you’ve got that stuff in your mouth.” He leaves a peck on your cheek, and drags the both of you inside plopping you on his couch, he gets you comfortable placing things under your feet and a supporting neck pillow. “Can I get you anything else, baby?” You fall into deep thought, “My mouth really hurts—“ you mumble. “I read that a kiss can fix it.”

“So then you must’ve read that medicine can help you as well, right?“ You scrunch your eyebrows feigning anger, “guess I’ve gotta find a new boyfriend.” You snort, turning towards the face of the couch, you mumble to yourself. “Ouch.” Michael sarcastically scoffs, “gonna leave me ‘cause of dentist orders, mama?”

You ignore him, “feels like there’s a ghost talking in my ear or something.” You mumble, He snickers, “So stubborn.” You mock him, “so stubborn blah blah blah—“ you laugh to yourself, his love for you only continued to grow in that moment. “That’s all you got, baby?” You nod.

“Yes—I’d like a cheeseburger now.” He smiles, “you’re impossible you know that? can’t eat no cheeseburger yet but, I could get you some of that good ice cream you like.” You feel tears brim your eyes. “Did they rewire you, Michael?” You sigh, turning to face him now. “They changed my boyfriend whilst I was sleeping.”

You cup his face, “The real Michael if you’re still in there—“ He interrupts you bursting out laughing, “I’d move mountains for you baby and you know that—but, you’re on strict rules, and I want you to heal the right way.” You smile to him, “aww Michael!” You pull him into a lazy hug. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with!” His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I did—“

“Can you atleast play my song then?” You let out a huff, and he nods. “Your wish is my command.”

“You’ll play my song? My boyfriend is still in there after all!” You grip his cheeks, hard and firm. “god look at that bambi face! I want to eat you!!”

“Mama.” He snorts, Breaking hold of your firm grip to go play your song, that he just so happened to sing. “Ohh I’ll be working from nine to fiveee to buy you things to keep you by my sidee.” You look at Michael, “take your own advice.” you point a lazy finger at him.

“Who do you think I wrote the song for, hm?” He snorts. You smile to yourself. “Definitely not me, where’s my cheeseburger?” You glance at him, and he has the widest smile on his face.

“Hey, but you know I love you, and I promise to get you a cheeseburger, and infinite kisses when you’re healed.” You attempt to fight the smile that wanted to break and spill onto your face, “promise?” he kisses your cheek. “Promise.”

bro this was so ass, anyways enjoy this short blurb as I attempt to break free of my writers block 💔

( 𝟏.𝟑𝐤 ) ❤︎ ~ thriller!michael 𝓳ackson 𝑥 childhoodbsf!popstar!reader. domestic fluff ❤︎ in which the hayvenhurst interview is disrupted!

𝒊𝒏 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 '𝟖𝟑. . .

On this particular winter night, Joseph Jackson had ordered a compulsory family dinner, meaning that though his son had left Hayvenhurst nearly three years ago to move in with his wife immediately after their wedding, tonight was one of those times where he had to be back in his adolescent abode.

He was currently recording an unauthorised interview by the fountain outside the estate, a video he’d decided on randomly at the peak of the evening’s boredom as he anxiously anticipated dinner. While he spoke whimsically into the air, you began to walk up to him, holding a hot mug of coffee, its purpose to help him stay energised for the night ahead.

Content: jackson era! boyfriendmichael x reader! drabble!

𐙚 ⎯⎯⎯ It was late, and you’re spending the night calling with your boyfriend. You didn’t mind, really. It was adorable how he was just making up whatever to keep the conversation going.

“Soo, did you eat dinner yet?”

“Mikey you asked this already.”

“W-Wait! No. I meant what did you eat.!”

“Eh. Spaghetti.”

“Yuck.”

You rolled your eyes as you heard his “yuck.” You knew he wasn’t a big fan of spaghetti, well not even a fan at all.

Michael was very resistant, not wanting to end the call. Even if you weren’t there with him physically, he wanted to atleast know your there.

So in order to keep you on the phone longer, he would ask a ton of questions and try to be a conversation starter.

“I miss you.” He muttered, as he turned to lay on the side of the bed while holding the telephone against his ear.

You smiled and fidgeted with the cord. “I miss you too Mikey.”

“I hate that I have to talk to you through this telephone tonight when I rather be next to you.”

“Mhm. Sorry. But last time when you tried climbing in my window, my dad got mad. Be glad that I can still call you.”

Michael shifted and laid on his back, as he let out a huge sigh. Then he started to giggle. You heard his giggle, and you mentally sigh.

“What if I sneak in again-“

“Mikey! Nope! Are you trying to get yourself in-trouble?”

“Maybe, if it’s worth to be next to you.” You shook your head and bit back a laugh.

"dear you".. OH hell nah, michael, you're not helping with our delusions.

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ Michael Jackson was achingly desperate for your physical touch. He knew that you’re weren’t a touchy person, but he can’t help but seek out your warmth as much as a man possibly could.

While you were lazily flipping through the latest magazine, Michael sat beside you watching a movie. It had started entirely by accident. His hand rested beside you, palm facing up toward the ceiling. Unconsciously, you had reached out without looking, wanting something to fidget with.

It was a completely unconscious, hypnotic rhythm. Your fingers tracing the lines of his palm. It was a delicate, feather-light touch, and entirely addictive to Michael.

He was petrified to move a single muscle, afraid that you’d snap out of it and realise what you were doing.

Don’t move, he kept internally repeating to himself. Do not move.

You were entirely immersed in the magazine, your eyes widening only the tiniest bit whenever you found something interesting. Michael found it all too endearing.

Michael’s leg suddenly became restless. He pleaded with his own body. No. Don’t ruin it. Please don’t ruin it.

He let out a tiny, barely audible exhale. The feeling was so good it was almost agonising. You weren’t doing it to comfort him, you weren’t doing it to tease him. You were simply doing it because your body naturally sought out his, even unconsciously.

He wanted to stay in this position for the rest of his life. But obviously his traitorous body had to betray his mind. A stray curl tickled the tip of his nose. He tried to fight it. He really did.

His head gave a sudden, sharp jerk as he sneezed into his left shoulder. Your fingers froze. Michael’s heart sank straight to his feet. No, no, no, no, please God, no.

You blinked as the daunting realisation of what you had been doing crossed your face.

“Sorry. I didn’t realise I was doing that.” you murmured, your voice slightly raspy from disuse.

Casually, you began to pull your hand away, intending to rest it on your thigh. Michael felt the warmth slipping out of his palm. The corners of his mouth slightly drooped, his sad, wide eyes watching you.

Before he could stop himself and before you could fully pull away, his fingers gently clasped around your wrist.

“Wait,” Michael blurted out desperately. You blinked at him completely startled. “Michael? What are you doing?”

“I… I wasn’t complaining,” he stammered. He tried his best to seem casual but it was plain to see that he was slightly nervous. “You don’t have to stop.”

“I didn’t mean to annoy you, I’m sorry.”

“Youweren’tannoyingme!” Michael rushed out frantically, his eyes wide. He cleared his throat, trying to seem casual again. “It wasn’t annoying at all. It was… it was fine. It was good.”

“It was good?” you repeated his words, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” he muttered shyly. He looked at you through his dark eyelashes. “It was nice. You can… you can keep doing it. If you want.”

You stared at him for three long seconds while he watched you with pleading eyes, patiently waiting for your next move like a puppy eyeing a treat. A soft, genuine laugh escaped you. The sound instantly melted Michael’s features.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, your fingers began the same rhythm they had earlier.

“Like this?”

Michael nodded happily.

mike returning to gary in 2003