𝓫𝓮𝓭𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓷𝔂 ⎯⎯ ♡ part 1: THRILLER & THRAD era michael jackson imagines, chronologically connected and (sometime) inspired by real-life MJ events, after you met him on the 1983 grammys night.

(This story is very cheesy) For Mature Audience. 1987 Calabasas, California She inhaled sharply, crossing her leg over the other. With a raise of her brows, she smiled. "Do you like bein' a bodyguard?" He glanced at her through the corner of his eye. His arms folded over his chest. "Yeah-It pays good." The back of his head was against the head of the couch. His dimpled chin was up in the air. Upward his lidded eyes drifted. "Do you like bein' a director's wife?" He mumbled, bringing his hand up. He brushed a few loose coils of hair away from his face. The floor shot into her view. A sharp exhale flew out of her mouth. "I-Uh-Nice-It's nice," she stammered. Her head nodded along to her words. "Nice?" Her brows shot up, she strained a grin. "Nice." Suddenly her lips were forced into a slight frown. A crease formed between her brows. She shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm not no good with words," she sighed. "No, I'm sorry I asked that. That was a real' stupid question." "It wasn't stupid. Nobody's ever asked me that before," she said through a forced laugh. 'Nice,' she repeated to herself. ⓒ 2025 All Rights Reserved