a/n: inspired by groupie love by lana del rey 😌 also my first time writing smut hehe
pairing: bad!michael jackson x reader
summary: sharing michael with the world comes with its challenges. fortunately, the flight home reminds you that some parts of him will always belong to you.
cw: explicit sexual content (18+), established relationship, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, creampie, aftercare, mile high club
"it's so hard sometimes with a star, when you have to share him with everybody"
the floor of the arena trembled beneath the weight of fifty thousand voices, each one screaming michael’s name. from your place beside the stage, you watched him move through the smoke and bright lights with effortless command, every snap of his fingers and roll of his hips triggering another wave of screams from the crowd. you had seen the show enough times to know each cue by heart, from the costume changes, to the dance breaks, to the perfectly timed pyrotechnics, but tonight your attention kept drifting beyond him. to the women pressed against the barricade with tears staining their faces, to the collection of bras and handwritten phone numbers littering the stage, and the thousands of hands reaching out for the man you called your own.
as the opening notes of bad floated through the arena, michael’s gaze swept toward the wings and found yours almost instantly. his expression softened for a moment, too brief for anyone else to notice, before he turned back to the crowd and gave them the show they had been begging for. somehow, that small glance should have reassured you, but instead it only reminded you that even the moments meant for you had to be shared between thousands of strangers.
after a while, the final chords rang through the arena, as the audience erupted into one last deafening roar, unwilling to let him out of their grasp. even after the house lights came up, hundreds of voices continued chanting his name, leaving the stage crew to tend to the aftermath of michael’s display. security hauled the fainted fans over the barricades and onto stretchers, while staff attempted to usher the sea of fans toward the exit. how does anyone live like this? you think to yourself, before making your way backstage to meet michael.
backstage, the chaos didn’t let up. wardrobe assistants hurried to undo the endless buckles adorning michael’s jacket while makeup artists blotted the sweat gathering along his forehead. members of his security team hovered nearby while publicists and reporters loitered in the hallways, praying for a chance to speak to the king of pop.
“michael, entertainment tonight is waiting for you outside,” his manager frank called out over the bustle. “just give them two minutes, then it’s wheels up in thirty”
michael flashed a quick thumbs up before scanning the room for your face. the second his eyes found yours, they softened, and he beckoned you over with his finger. you peeled yourself from the back corner you had been occupying for the past several minutes, weaving through the sea of stylists and assistants until you finally reached him.
as if the resounding adulation of fifty thousand screaming fans hadn't already answered the question, michael searched your face for reassurance. even after all the tours, albums, and awards, your approval of him always seemed to matter most.
“perfect,” you smiled. “as always.”
michael’s face broke into a grin. he reached for your hands, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.
“michael!” frank called again, louder this time. “entertainment tonight is waiting.”
his smile faltered. reluctantly, he retracted his hands, offering a sheepish smile.
“go ahead,” you assured him with a small smile. “we’ll catch up later.”
out in the hall, michael greeted the reporter with a polite handshake before leaning down to answer her questions. you lingered just out of frame, listening curiously as she asked the usual. do you miss touring with your brothers? why the change in appearance? do you have a message for your fans? you couldn't help but wonder how someone could stand just inches away from michael jackson and settle for questions that barely skimmed the surface of the man behind the headlines. they had his attention, even if only for a few minutes, and somehow they never thought to ask about the things that actually mattered.
upon wrapping up the interview, bill ushered michael further down the hallway, one hand on the small of his back as security formed around him. you hurried behind them, dodging through the crowd toward the black van waiting outside to take you to the airport. you settled into the seat beside michael just as the door slid shut behind you. immediately, he reached for your hand as the interior lights dimmed. you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his before he had the chance to speak.
the van lurched forward only a few feet before coming to an abrupt stop. curiously, you leaned toward the window, catching sight of hundreds of fans still crowding the streets, spilling past the barricades despite security’s best efforts. the moment someone recognized the van, a wave of screams erupted through the night. handmade signs shot into the air and dozens of hands slapped excitedly against the windows as girls ran alongside the vehicle, desperate for one last glimpse of michael before it disappeared into traffic.
the driver let out a frustrated sigh, waiting for security to carve a path through the crowd, continuing on towards the freeway. beside you, michael remained silent, offering a small wave through the tinted window before dropping his hand back into his lap. there was no annoyance on his face, but a quiet sort of patience that he reserved for moments like these.
michael’s soft voice cuts through the muffled noise. “sorry, love.”
“it’s okay,” you reply. “what were you saying earlier?”
michael opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word out, the van slowed beneath you, signaling your arrival. airport staff lined the curb of the private terminal awaiting your arrival. security abruptly slid the door open, the cool night air sending goosebumps down your arms.
“right this way, mr. jackson.”
the crew eagerly greeted michael and his team, another round of handshakes and small talk stealing his attention yet again. michael sent you an apologetic smile before returning the pleasantries. his staff hurried the entourage toward the waiting aircraft, and you fell into step just behind him, crossing the tarmac beneath the glow of the runway lights before climbing the jet stairs and disappearing into the quiet cabin.
before michael could make it to his seat, a flight attendant stopped to confirm his meal preferences while frank reviewed tomorrow’s itinerary beside him. from the back of the cabin, you waited for him, already curled under a blanket, staring longingly. even thirty thousand feet in the air, someone still needed something from him.
“that’s everything for tonight,” frank said, snapping his binder shut. “i’ll see you in the morning.”
“goodnight frank,” michael breathed.
michael waited for the cabin door to click shut before quietly slipping off his loafers. with a tired sigh, he leaned back against the seat beside you, dragging his hands over his face before letting his head fall against the headrest. his exhaustion was written across every inch of him, and for a moment you felt guilty, selfish even, for letting your own emotions weigh so heavily when your boyfriend was clearly the one carrying the biggest burden.
as though sensing your thoughts, michael shifted closer to you, allowing you to rest your head against his chest. you both sat in silence, and for the first time all evening nothing was demanding michael’s attention. no reporters, screaming fans, or managers calling his name, just the steady drone of the engine and the slowing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.
“can i tell you something without you thinking i’m crazy?” your voice cuts through the silence.
“i know it’s your job,” you began quietly. “i know your fans love you… and i know you love me.” you hesitated, swallowing the lump that had settled in your throat. “but sometimes i feel like i have to share you with the whole world.”
the words hung between you. michael’s thumb traced slow circles against your arm, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the cabin window.
“i’m sorry,” he admitted.
“i don’t want you feeling like that.”
“you don’t make me feel like that,” you said quickly. “i know none of it’s your fault.”
“i know,” he whispered. “but i still hate it.”
he fell quiet again before turning to face you, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “those people…” he nodded vaguely toward the darkness outside the window. "...they know michael jackson."
his eyes met yours. “but you know me.”
silence settled over the cabin once more. michael’s thumb continued its slow path across your shoulder. “i’m sorry,” you murmured after a while.
michael looked down at you, brows knitting together in confusion. “for what?”
you shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. “for making tonight about me.” a small laugh escaped you. “you’re exhausted, and here i am complaining just because you’re doing your job.”
michael’s expression softened. “you weren’t complaining.”
“i kinda was,” you insisted.
he shook his head. “you waited all day just for five minutes with me,” his voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “i think you’ve earned it.”
the tension that had settled between you all evening finally began to melt away. michael studied your face for a long moment, his eyes lingering on yours. “come here,” he whispered. you smiled before closing the small distance between you, meeting his lips with your own. he kissed you slowly at first, establishing a steady rhythm before parting your lips with his tongue. you moaned softly against him, leaning further into his touch.
michael’s hand trailed from your shoulder to the small of your back, finally settling against your ass, softly squeezing your soft flesh. you slipped your hand beneath the thin material of his shirt, running your fingernails teasingly along his torso before dipping them just below the waistline of his pants. you pulled away briefly to lift the shirt over his head, and he wasted no time in returning the favor, exposing your bare chest to the dark cabin. your nipples pebbled immediately under the cool draft of the a/c, and michael instantly leaned down to catch one in his mouth.
michael groaned against your skin, reaching up to pinch and tease your other breast. with a soft pop, he pulled his mouth back, meeting your lips once more as he pressed you back against the seat beneath you. he trailed a path of small kisses and licks down the smooth skin of your stomach, stopping just above the waistline of your jeans before carefully unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs.
your light pink thong had begun to turn a darker shade in the center, clear evidence of your arousal from michael’s touch. the damp fabric clung tightly to your thick folds, swallowing the sides, leaving little to the imagination.
“so beautiful,” michael murmured against your stomach.
hooking his fingers into the elastic, he slipped your panties off, leaving you exposed and glistening under the moonlight spilling in through the cabin window. you gasped, your back arching upwards as michael licked upward, tracing your wet hole all the way to your sensitive nub. his warm breath fanned over your lower stomach as he closed his lips around your clit, sucking gently. instinctively, your hand flew to his head, burying your fingers into his dark curls in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“oh my god,” you whimpered.
he alternated between sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue against you, sliding his pointer and middle finger into your slick hole. curling his fingers, he quickly found that spongy spot inside you, eliciting a loud groan from his own chest as your walls clenched tightly around him.
“i know, baby,” he panted against you. michael continued his relentless assault as you writhed beneath him, trying, and failing, to muffle your own moans with the palm of your hand.
“m-michael,” you choked out, your hips grinding helplessly against his face. “i’m coming.”
your plush walls gripped around his fingers as they pumped tirelessly in and out of you. the wet squelching sounds filled the cabin until the heat pooling in your abdomen finally exploded. a wave of pleasure crashed over you, causing you to gush helplessly all over his hand and the leather seat beneath you.
michael smiled up at you before rising to lean over you, kissing you passionately. your tongues danced together, the sweet taste of your own release filling your mouth. guided by touch, your hand found the button of his pants, quickly undoing them before pushing them down his toned thighs. the tip of his length peeked teasingly from the waistband of his boxers, and he kicked both his pants and underwear down to his ankles before settling back between your soft thighs.
the leather seat creaked beneath you as he finally slid into you, evoking a sharp, breathless cry from his throat. his eyes squeezed shut, knuckles turning white as he gripped the cushion above your head for restraint.
“fuck,” michael rasped, opening his eyes to watch the way your wet pink folds gripped him, contrasting beautifully against his warm brown skin. you brought your hand up to cradle the back of his head, staring lovingly into his eyes as he began to pace himself, plowing into you over and over again. “feels so good,” you moaned, arching up to meet every thrust.
michael leaned down, pressing a trail of soft kisses along your jaw before lingering at your neck as he continued to roll his hips into yours.
“it’s all yours, baby,” he whispered in your ear.
your heart fluttered at the quiet confession, the words settling somewhere deep after everything the two of you had shared that evening. you buried your fingers deeper into his curls and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.
the steady, driving rhythm of michael’s hips began to falter, his breath growing more ragged by the second. knowing he was close, you reached your free hand down between your bodies. your palm cupped the heavy weight of his balls, kneading them softly as he thrust.
“ah, y/n,” michael cried out, his body tightening against you. “i’m so close.”
your touch drove him over the edge. michael let out a low groan, his hips slamming flush against yours, as he finally released, pouring his hot seed deep inside you. his sudden and intense release triggered a final, violent wave of pleasure of your own. your back arched up off the seat, your walls contracting fiercely around his dick as you gushed over him once more, bathing his thighs and the base of his shaft in your warm release. he shuddered violently against you, still holding you close to him as you both rode out the breathless aftershocks together.
the low, steady hum of the jet engines was the only sound filling the cabin as your breathing gradually began to settle. above you, michael rested his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling in slow, exhausted cycles. a moment later, he slipped out of you, immediately collapsing onto the seat beside you, pulling your soft, trembling body flush against his chest.
“damn girl,” he teased, glancing at the wet seat beneath the two of you. “you made a mess.”
you let out an embarrassed groan, burying your head into his neck. michael only chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
the stress and chaos of the night finally felt a million miles away, left somewhere on the ground far beneath the clouds you now drifted through. michael’s fingers began a slow, lazy path up and down your bare arm, his touch featherlight and tender. reaching down, he pulled the plush cashmere blanket off the floor and draped it over both of your bodies.
you laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “every second.”
