Reverie - Michael Jackson Imagines

Hard To Get✨

Dangerous Era

Requested by @superflysister22  Hope you enjoy!

"MJJ productions. Y/N speaking,"

"Put Michael on the phone right now,''

You roll your eyes, gripping the receiver in the palm of your hand. While most would be annoyed with such a rude phone call, you'd gotten used to them.

It wasn't a day at your job if there wasn't some hysterical woman calling the office.

"He's not in right now," you reply politely, fluttering your eyelashes with faux concern. "May I take a message?"

The frustrated woman scoffs.

"Tell him to kiss my ass! He stood me up again!"

Biting back a giggle you reach across your desk to grab a note pad, jotting down the crude message.

"Anything else?"

Instead of a response, the line goes dead and you shake your head with amusement.

"Somebody needs to control his harem," you chuckle to yourself, shuffling through the phone book for the nearest florist.

As soon as the dirty work was done, you were always left to clean up the mess he made.

You worked as a receptionist at MJJ productions for mega pop star Michael Jackson. While secretarial work was often mundane and pedestrian, you had the advantage of working alongside a high profile celebrity, which beat being a receptionist at a corporate office any day. You got a chance to see the ends and outs of the King of Pop's professional life and personal life.

In fact, you knew much more about his personal life than you would like to know.

If there was one thing you'd learned during your time on the staff, it was that Michael Jackson was not at all the person he pretended to be in the public eye.

When the cameras were off, Michael Jackson was a major, unapologetic flirt. The sheepish, good-guy act did not even exist and he made absolutely no effort to hide his lustful intentions. He knew his way around the anatomy of a woman and used his charm and good looks to his advantage.

He was a real lady-killer, the type of guy a girl's parents would warn against but exactly the forbidden fruit that was too scrumptious to resist.

It was a well-kept secret among those in his circle. Michael was known to take out as many women as he could pencil into his calendar in a week's time and somehow never get caught by the paps. They were all willing and eager to be the object of his desire for a night but could never seem to brace themselves for the impact of being tossed to the curb for the next hot catch.

"Hey, Y/N, do you have the minutes for that Wednesday strategy meeting?" Your co-worker, Monica chirps, strolling up to your desk.

You nod, retrieving the manilla folder off of your desk and handing it to her, the smirk of amusement never leaving your face.

She curiously narrows her hazel eyes at you.

"What are you laughing at, girl? Another fallen angel you've got to tend to?"

You nod. While you took the messages and cleaned up Michael's personal affairs, the whole office was in on the joke of Michael's philandering. It was impossible not to know.

You nod.

"This one's far from an angel, more like the devil in high heels. She sounds one step away from boiling his chimp on the stove,"