applehead

king of pop side blog | writer tee

[applehead-archive]

this is applehead archive

╭ ❝ writer tee ❞ ╰ ★ she/her . 25.

a side blog of @haesunflower

₊˚⊹♡.....quick links.....₊˚⊹♡

............✎ masterlist

............✉︎ request here (anything goes)

............▤ latest work: should we breakup?

₊˚⊹♡....other blogs.....₊˚⊹♡

@haesunflower main (k-pop)

@dalmoonflower k-pop nsfw

@applehead-archive—all rights reserved. any form of plagiarism is strictly prohibited. all content featured is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only.

[applehead-archive]

should we breakup?

❛ michael jackson 𝑥 female !reader ❜ ....✉︎ in which you suggest to break up for the sake of his career. established reader x michael relationship. reader is insecure and easily manipulated/ childhood friends to lovers. joe jackson is the enemy. timeline wise: off the wall era (before thriller) ....✎ tw: mentions of manipulation. they fight here. cussing. angst. sad. fluff at the end actually. mike begging basically

it's 1 am and the only thing that manages to drown out the painful confines of your thoughts is michael's soft humming.

you can hear him stringing senseless words together to the melody he just created. he'd throw an adlib here and there, but nothing you could clearly make out.

you're holed up in his bedroom at hayvenhurst, his duvet wrapped around you, providing a false sense sort of comfort. it smells just like him.

michael's been sitting at his desk at the opposite end of the room. far away from his bed, you can see him scribbling on a notepad, tape recorder still going as he documents the initial draft of a song.

truth be told, this evening was hard for the both of you. for the first time since you've known him, you were confronted with the idea that maybe you would have to let michael go. his dream is unfolding right in front of him, and you fear that being with you holds him back.

in some sense of false responsibility, you brought this up with him during dinner. 

“michael, should we break up?”

he maybe thought you were joking at first, but it sounded too much like an admission of defeat rather than a funny question.

still chewing, he waited for you to continue the rest of the sentence, hoping you'd provide a little bit of context, or drop some sick punchline. but your expression didn’t change, it stayed eerily still. he looked into your eyes for answers and was met with sadness.

he put his fork down. you've officially ruined bolognese for him.

“did I do something wrong? did something happen?” confusion laced his voice.

“this relationship is dead weight for your career, michael.”

he couldn’t believe his ears. you sounded just like his father.

michael is a very understanding person. he has never once raised his voice at you. ever. not in your 13 years of friendship, nor in your 2 years of courtship, and the months that you've been dating.

unkind words were exchanged while emotions ran high. and your venomous back and forth could surely be heard from any passerby. his siblings pretended not to see you two take your conversation up to his bedroom.

you can't even remember much of the argument anymore. bits and pieces come to you like jagged edges of a shattered mirror. and when it comes, it sticks, replaying in your head like endless mockery.

"you don't need me michael. i'm probably just a distraction to you" "what are you going on about? can you stop pretending like you can read my mind?" "i wouldn't have to resort to that if you just talked to me" "i do talk to you, baby, everyday" "not when it's about what counts. it hurts that you confide in others more than me" " y/n you're the one that doesn't want to be seen in public with me" "because it's bad for your career. joe already says i'm a bad influence, that i'm taking you away from them, that i'm putting evil thoughts in your brain, some nobody girl that -" "why are you listening to joe?" "oh for fuck's sake if that's what you got out of this conversation then you're clearly not hearing me!" "do you really have to cuss to prove a point?"

and that’s what led you here – physically in the same room, yet hearts still painfully distant. 

he's so incredibly protective over the life you two share, he couldn't believe you wanted to throw it away. he's confused you won't fight for this relationship. he's hurt that you could give up so easily without a conversation.

and lastly, he's mad at himself for making you feel like you weren't such an important person in life. indispensable. he's mad because his lack of showing you security made room for joe's manipulative words to bleed into your consciousness.

when you no longer hear michael's soft voice, you leave the duvet behind and tread lightly to his desk. he hears your footsteps, turning around just in time – face to face with each other, for the first time in hours.

"forgive me, baby" "i'm sorry, mike" you both say in unison.

he can't help the smile that creeps upon his lips, and he's hopeful as he takes your right hand and pulls you into his lap. you stumble over your other foot but land safely on him as he swivels the chair to face his desk again.

“how come you stopped humming?” you ask in a voice that sounds tinier than expected as you fidget with the collar of his shirt. michael looks at you, and that's when he notices that your nose has gone red from sniffling your tears away.

“i was just, umm..finishing something i wrote for you " he's completely distracted by the thought of you crying alone on his bed. "can you read this for me?" he holds out the paper for you to read, and you reluctantly start at the lyrics –

there will be no darkness tonight y/n, our love will shine put your trust in my heart & meet me in paradise y/n, you're every wonder in this world to me a treasure time won't steal away so listen to my heart lay your body close to me let me fill you with my dreams i can make you feel alright And, y/n, through the years gonna love you more each day so I promise you tonight that you will always be the lady in my life

this felt like an apology and a prayer rolled into one. a commitment that runs deep, proof that you anchor his very being. it's a plea to take his word as he says it – that you mean more to him than anything, and a reminder that your love is strong. it's a promise that the space in his heart will be dedicated to you for the rest of his life.

"oh it's so beautiful, michael"

"i never want to make my girl cry" he starts "i'm sorry i didn't say it enough. but you are the most important person in my life, and i don't wan- i can't lose you..please." begging, his voice cracks when he utters "breaking up was never an option for me, you know”

and reading this again, you feel so incredibly guilty. michael has always been a giver, a selfless lover. and while you were afraid that giving his time to you would be detrimental to his career, it’s not a decision you should make alone. 

“you're right. i'm sorry for bringing up. i hate the idea of ending us as much as you do” 

you place the pad of paper back on the desk before turning around to face him, cupping his cheeks gently. his eyes well with tears and he sniffles once or twice before he brings his thumb to your cheek, swiping at the tears that fell from your own. you didn't notice you were crying again.

"i don't know why i keep letting that old man get in my head" you sighed.

as you held each other close and stared into each others’ eyes, you saw the sweet and scared little boy from gary, indiana again. you see longing in his eyes, a longing to be comforted, secure, and loved. 

“can we just stay like this?” he says, almost pleading. his voice is so incredibly strained and soft, and if you weren't paying attention you think you would have missed it.

“we can stay like this however long you want.” 

“i meant, can we just stay as we are? i don't want things to change.” for someone that wrote a lyrical masterpiece in under an hour, he sounded as desperate as a little boy.

“i know what you meant, mikey. and yes, I won’t leave your side ever” 

you bring his face towards yours, so that your foreheads are resting against each other. your breathing steadies, and you feel the weight of your earlier conversations leave your chest. hands still cupped to his cheeks you take a good look at him again, and find yourself putting on a small smile. a genuine one. 

he kisses you softly, a firm hand holding you by the chin to keep drawing you in. you both feel that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

him holding you tightly, the lady in his life.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ............✎ masterlist

author's note: joe jackson would have sooo meddled in his relationships

if this fic sounds a bit familiar, i took inspiration from my previous work at @haesunflower (main blog)

also hello tagging @istayuptoolateonthisapp15

[applehead-archive]

don't let this flop thank u

[applehead-archive]

i know we need to avoid streaming the doc, but i also feel like i need to watch it before people start asking me about it.

i’m certain it’s bs but i need to know exactly what they said, what the arguments they made are, so that when people ask me about it i know exactly what i need to say about it. im torn 😭

i think the worst thing is that there’s still 2 parts to this doc, so it feels never ending.

just let the dead man rest and how about we go after the people who are alive, we KNOW are guilty, and are LEADING OUR COUNTRIES!!!!

i totally get this anon

I want to be able to defend him but I genuinely don’t think I can sit through that without vomiting or crying.

What I fear for the most: what if it’s framed so compellingly that I start believing in it? That’s what I fear.

I want to stay in my Michael bubble forever. I agree, let him rest in peace. It’s been 21 years since he was found not guilty. And 17 years since he passed. 😭

[applehead-archive]

guys I’m scared of the netflix “documentary”

naturally, I am THE local Michael Jackson fan in my friend group. I’ve been getting messages about “what I think”

what I truly want to say is: I don’t have any thoughts.

I genuinely want absolutely nothing to do with it

a dead man cannot defend himself, and I think we all know what’s in his heart

how about you guys? are people messaging any of you from your real life circles? what do you talk about, and what are they saying?

[applehead-archive]

should we breakup?

❛ michael jackson 𝑥 female !reader ❜ ....✉︎ in which you suggest to break up for the sake of his career. established reader x michael relationship. reader is insecure and easily manipulated/ childhood friends to lovers. joe jackson is the enemy. timeline wise: off the wall era (before thriller) ....✎ tw: mentions of manipulation. they fight here. cussing. angst. sad. fluff at the end actually. mike begging basically

it's 1 am and the only thing that manages to drown out the painful confines of your thoughts is michael's soft humming.

you can hear him stringing senseless words together to the melody he just created. he'd throw an adlib here and there, but nothing you could clearly make out.

you're holed up in his bedroom at hayvenhurst, his duvet wrapped around you, providing a false sense sort of comfort. it smells just like him.

michael's been sitting at his desk at the opposite end of the room. far away from his bed, you can see him scribbling on a notepad, tape recorder still going as he documents the initial draft of a song.

truth be told, this evening was hard for the both of you. for the first time since you've known him, you were confronted with the idea that maybe you would have to let michael go. his dream is unfolding right in front of him, and you fear that being with you holds him back.

in some sense of false responsibility, you brought this up with him during dinner. 

“michael, should we break up?”

he maybe thought you were joking at first, but it sounded too much like an admission of defeat rather than a funny question.

still chewing, he waited for you to continue the rest of the sentence, hoping you'd provide a little bit of context, or drop some sick punchline. but your expression didn’t change, it stayed eerily still. he looked into your eyes for answers and was met with sadness.

he put his fork down. you've officially ruined bolognese for him.

“did I do something wrong? did something happen?” confusion laced his voice.

“this relationship is dead weight for your career, michael.”

he couldn’t believe his ears. you sounded just like his father.

michael is a very understanding person. he has never once raised his voice at you. ever. not in your 13 years of friendship, nor in your 2 years of courtship, and the months that you've been dating.

unkind words were exchanged while emotions ran high. and your venomous back and forth could surely be heard from any passerby. his siblings pretended not to see you two take your conversation up to his bedroom.

you can't even remember much of the argument anymore. bits and pieces come to you like jagged edges of a shattered mirror. and when it comes, it sticks, replaying in your head like endless mockery.

"you don't need me michael. i'm probably just a distraction to you" "what are you going on about? can you stop pretending like you can read my mind?" "i wouldn't have to resort to that if you just talked to me" "i do talk to you, baby, everyday" "not when it's about what counts. it hurts that you confide in others more than me" " y/n you're the one that doesn't want to be seen in public with me" "because it's bad for your career. joe already says i'm a bad influence, that i'm taking you away from them, that i'm putting evil thoughts in your brain, some nobody girl that -" "why are you listening to joe?" "oh for fuck's sake if that's what you got out of this conversation then you're clearly not hearing me!" "do you really have to cuss to prove a point?"

and that’s what led you here – physically in the same room, yet hearts still painfully distant. 

he's so incredibly protective over the life you two share, he couldn't believe you wanted to throw it away. he's confused you won't fight for this relationship. he's hurt that you could give up so easily without a conversation.

and lastly, he's mad at himself for making you feel like you weren't such an important person in life. indispensable. he's mad because his lack of showing you security made room for joe's manipulative words to bleed into your consciousness.

when you no longer hear michael's soft voice, you leave the duvet behind and tread lightly to his desk. he hears your footsteps, turning around just in time – face to face with each other, for the first time in hours.

"forgive me, baby" "i'm sorry, mike" you both say in unison.

he can't help the smile that creeps upon his lips, and he's hopeful as he takes your right hand and pulls you into his lap. you stumble over your other foot but land safely on him as he swivels the chair to face his desk again.

“how come you stopped humming?” you ask in a voice that sounds tinier than expected as you fidget with the collar of his shirt. michael looks at you, and that's when he notices that your nose has gone red from sniffling your tears away.

“i was just, umm..finishing something i wrote for you " he's completely distracted by the thought of you crying alone on his bed. "can you read this for me?" he holds out the paper for you to read, and you reluctantly start at the lyrics –

there will be no darkness tonight y/n, our love will shine put your trust in my heart & meet me in paradise y/n, you're every wonder in this world to me a treasure time won't steal away so listen to my heart lay your body close to me let me fill you with my dreams i can make you feel alright And, y/n, through the years gonna love you more each day so I promise you tonight that you will always be the lady in my life

this felt like an apology and a prayer rolled into one. a commitment that runs deep, proof that you anchor his very being. it's a plea to take his word as he says it – that you mean more to him than anything, and a reminder that your love is strong. it's a promise that the space in his heart will be dedicated to you for the rest of his life.

"oh it's so beautiful, michael"

"i never want to make my girl cry" he starts "i'm sorry i didn't say it enough. but you are the most important person in my life, and i don't wan- i can't lose you..please." begging, his voice cracks when he utters "breaking up was never an option for me, you know”

and reading this again, you feel so incredibly guilty. michael has always been a giver, a selfless lover. and while you were afraid that giving his time to you would be detrimental to his career, it’s not a decision you should make alone. 

“you're right. i'm sorry for bringing up. i hate the idea of ending us as much as you do” 

you place the pad of paper back on the desk before turning around to face him, cupping his cheeks gently. his eyes well with tears and he sniffles once or twice before he brings his thumb to your cheek, swiping at the tears that fell from your own. you didn't notice you were crying again.

"i don't know why i keep letting that old man get in my head" you sighed.

as you held each other close and stared into each others’ eyes, you saw the sweet and scared little boy from gary, indiana again. you see longing in his eyes, a longing to be comforted, secure, and loved. 

“can we just stay like this?” he says, almost pleading. his voice is so incredibly strained and soft, and if you weren't paying attention you think you would have missed it.

“we can stay like this however long you want.” 

“i meant, can we just stay as we are? i don't want things to change.” for someone that wrote a lyrical masterpiece in under an hour, he sounded as desperate as a little boy.

“i know what you meant, mikey. and yes, I won’t leave your side ever” 

you bring his face towards yours, so that your foreheads are resting against each other. your breathing steadies, and you feel the weight of your earlier conversations leave your chest. hands still cupped to his cheeks you take a good look at him again, and find yourself putting on a small smile. a genuine one. 

he kisses you softly, a firm hand holding you by the chin to keep drawing you in. you both feel that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

him holding you tightly, the lady in his life.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ............✎ masterlist

author's note: joe jackson would have sooo meddled in his relationships

if this fic sounds a bit familiar, i took inspiration from my previous work at @haesunflower (main blog)

also hello tagging @istayuptoolateonthisapp15

[greelin]

one thing white men are gonna always do is be named Michael

[sundae-meringue]

And yet the three most famous michaels are black. We stay winning

[applehead-archive]

who do you belong to? (smut)

❛ jealous!michael jackson 𝑥 female !reader ❜ ....✉︎ established relationship. you piss michael off by purposely making him jealous, talking to other men. you're just acting out because he wants to keep you as his little secret. you're genuinely over it. later in the car, he reminds you who you belong to. (era doesn't matter but i did imagine this with annoyed! michael from the we are the world recording) ....✎ warnings/tags: jealousy. he fingers you in the limousine. hiding the relationship. use of 'mama' as term of endearment. btw michael curses in this one (his internal thoughts at least), that's how annoyed he is.

what’s funny is that you can see him pouting from across the room. you don’t have to look at him directly to know, he’s just so painfully obvious with his face.

what’s even funnier is that the pout eventually turned into eye rolls, before escalating into deadpan stares. bill had to hand him his sunglasses he left in the car. at least that way, the whole function wouldn’t have to see him staring daggers at every man that’s trying to own the privilege of a conversation with you.

you weren’t doing it on purpose at first. it just naturally happened, men would approach a pretty girl like you to get an ounce, a sliver of your attention even. in your little black dress and louboutins, you looked classy, beautiful, and delicious.

it was an important evening after all, a night the record label hosted for the shareholders and other potential investors. it’s the mixer where these grubby men can get their hands on speaking to any artist.

as a PR associate for the record label, you’re used to the one making those introductions. what you didn’t expect was for these people to want to talk to you. you’ve probably spoken to half the men in that room, being whisked away from one conversation to the next.

meanwhile, you haven’t uttered a single word to michael since you both arrived in separate cars. separate cars that he asked for, in his attempt to keep your relationship a secret.

so you find his misery hilarious.

him, not so much.

throughout the evening, he battled coming up to you. as men swarmed over you, he knew it couldn’t be helped. you were gorgeous after all. but did you really have to laugh at their jokes? did you really have to accept a drink from them? and most importantly did you really have to ignore him all night? not one glance in his direction, really?

he saw you take another man’s hand as he led you to look at an art piece on display. probably talking your ear off, shit he could care less about at the moment. the man had his hand on your back, but was slowly sliding down to your waist.

that’s it. he’s had enough.

he storms out of the conversation he was pretending to have, leaving a group of people dumbfounded as he made his way across the room. with the sunglasses on, he had an unreadable expression. he can hear someone whisper “did I say somethin’ wrong?” as he walked away.

he plants himself firmly next to you, shoulder brushing against yours. you can practically feel the steam coming off his ears.

“ah mr.jackson. nice of you to join us. i was just telling y/n here about this piece i just bought fr-”

“let’s go home. now.” he turns to you, removing his aviators so you can see his eyes. he was using a voice he only used with you in private. if other people around heard him, they wouldn’t assume it was from michael. their soft spoken, gentle-mannered michael jackson, usually so polite and respectful.

it raises a few eyebrows from the men you were standing with. “apologies, will you excuse me?” you smile at the businessmen you already forgot the names of.

michael takes your hand and leads the both of you out of the venue and into to driveway where his limousine waits.

and even in his annoyance, he’s a perfect gentleman. stopping bill from opening the car door so that he can do it just for you. “get in” he deadpans.

“i brought a car remember, i can drive myself home” you dangle your keys in the air before he plucks them off your fingers. “please…just get in the car” he pleads at this point, other hand still holding the car door open.

you have no choice but to follow. he doesn’t even slam the door once you’re safely inside.

the car ride home is silent, save for Michael’s incessent finger tapping on the left console where his hand rests. he’s antsy to speak; but he doesn’t know where to begin.

“something wrong, applehead?” you ask, feigning innocence. and as you bat your eyelashes at him, your own lips come to a smirk. at this very moment, he realizes you did it on purpose.

you pissed him off because it was fun for you. you pissed him off to prove a point.

he scoffs at the realization, lips breaking into a thin smile. oh you’re such a brat.

“I get what ya trying to do you know” he starts.

“and what was it I was trying to do?” your arms are crossed.

“my girl was trying to make me jealous. talking up those other men, taunting me, because you know i can’t…” his voice softens and he reaches out to unfold your arms.

“but am I your girl, michael? last I checked, you don’t even want to be seen with me in public”

okay, he totally gets it now. you’re pissed at him because he asked to come separately, which is silly considering you live together. he initially had his reasons, but they all seem so stupid now.

“baby you know it isn’t like that” voice low, he pushes your hair behind your neck. giving him room to plant a little kiss near your collarbone.

you don’t need much convincing either, practically letting him litter kisses all over you. “did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?” he comes closer as he whispers “my girl, my girl, my girl..I was practically drooling in there begging for your attention”

his hand rubs at your knee, slowly making its way up your thigh, taunting you “but all you wanted to do was talk to those men. do you enjoy making me jealous?” he asks into your ear.

“well, did it work?” you taunt back. palm resting against his chest, feigning a stop in his ministrations.

“you definitely have my full attention now, baby” he smiles before he kisses you. he takes your wrist and removes your hand from his chest, guiding you to grasp his hair instead.

you’re extremely relaxed on the seat, practically laying down as michael hovers over you. his kisses are deeper and you pull him in closer to get more of him.

with the privacy of your limousine, the two of you can do anything. a privilege you both abused more often than either of you would admit.

he hikes your dress up so that it pools by your hips. slowly, he reaches your g-string and rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. this elicits a groan from you, aching to be touched fully.

he gives you what you want as he hooks your panties to the side, his hand now fully working your pleasure. his thumb pads your clit in slow, agonizing circles. he watched as your face falls apart for him.

“tell me who’s making you feel good”

all he can hear is the soft, breathy pants that came out of your own mouth, practically begging for more friction. he inserts two fingers inch by inch, as he slowly curls upwards. “what was that? I can’t hear you baby, hmm?”

you can hear yourself squelching as his fingers settle on a steady pace. it's embarrassing, really how wet you are. he on the other hand, pays no mind, amused at how easily turned on you are.

"you" barely above a whisper.

“louder.” he demands, unrelenting at his pace. he presses hard against your clit, feeling your walls tighten.

“you mike. only you make me feel good.” panting. your senses are overwhelmed, thoughts so clouded that the only thing you can chant at this point is “mike, please”

you repeat it like a mantra, feeling his lips kiss the side of your jaw as he whispers for you to let go.

pleasure washes all over you as you grip his hair tighter, head thrown back as you plead for something you're not sure of. he kisses you back to reality, pausing in between to watch your face – making sure you're okay. "you good, mama?"

you nod, he helps pull your dress down as the car comes to a halt. you're both finally home, and as usual, the fans and paparazzi are waiting by the gate hoping for a glimpse of their superstar. this means michael will have to get down from the car first, while you aimlessly circle around with the driver for another block or two – before ultimately returning to use the back entrance to your own home.

“in all seriousness I hate that we have to keep us a secret” you pout.

"yeah safe to say, lesson learned" he kisses your pout away and makes you wear his shades. "let’s change that starting today." he has a shit-eating grin as he opens the car door.

"michael, are you crazy?" you whisper shout as he steps out. but all he does is giggle as he extends his hand out to you, coaxing you to come out of the limo.

you take his offered hand, and step out with a smile on your face. he takes his sweet time walking you inside, hand on your waist, and a peace sign to the paparazzi.

he doesn't care anymore that the media is within eyesight, taking photos of a disheveled michael escorting his "mystery girl" out of the limo, noting that she's sporting his signature sunglasses.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ............✎ masterlist

author's note: i finished this so fast, literally within an hour of seeing the request

thank you @purpleteaandclearskies for the request! hope you don't mind, had to change some details but the general storyline is there haha

[applehead-archive]

applehead archive masterlist....₊˚⊹♡

♡ smut ♡

who do you belong to? jealous michael! x secret gf! reader. limousine sex.

❀ fluff ❀

conversations between hospital visits life and love with dad!micheal x pediatrician!reader

☾angst ☾

don't leave me overworked/tired michael (alludes to substance abuse) x worried gf!reader

should we breakup? insecure reader brings up a breakup for michael's career. childhood friends to lovers.

[applehead-archive]

I need inspiration, any requests?

[asamantis]

He is such an angelface 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

[mikajensen58]

imagine hiding mature!michael’s wig and helping him find it

word count: 332

a/n: this is so dumb sorry and not proof read

—

imagine getting into a minor argument with michael. he accused you of eating the rest of the baked macaroni you cooked, so as revenge, you hid the one thing he wouldn’t be seen in public without.

"y/n, this isn't funny!" michael’s voice echoed from the hallway, arms crossed tightly, and laced with panic.

he rounded the corner into the living room, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from howling. he was wearing an oversized purple button-down and black trousers that hugged his slightly fuller figure, his skin a striking, pale porcelain, and his jawline sharp—but his natural hair was tucked away under a tight wig cap. the jet-black bob with the bangs and detroit-style layers that usually framed his face was nowhere to be found. it was his favorite one to throw on, and it was one you bought for him at the beauty supply.

"what's wrong, mikey pooh?" you asked, your voice a picture of innocence as you turned a page of your hair magazine.

"gir- you know what's wrong!" he groaned, stamping his loafered foot. he still managed to look handsome despite the wig cap making him appear bald. he looked nothing like how the tabloids portrayed him. even while he was bewildered, he heavily resembled his early eighties self.

"my hair is missing! i have a meeting with bashir's people in an hour. did you hide it?"

"i would never," you gasped, finally looking up. "let me help you look."

for the next twenty minutes, you "helped" by checking the most ridiculous places. you checked the freezer. you checked behind the television. michael was practically on his knees checking under the sofa, his big eyes wide with betrayal.

"if it's in the microwave, y/n, i'm cutting that credit card off!" he warned, pointing a non-threatening long, pale finger at you, entirely unaware that his beloved bob unit was currently shoved inside the empty decorative vase right next to him.

[applehead-archive]

genuinely made me giggle

[applehead-archive]

don't leave me

❛ michael jackson 𝑥 female !reader ❜ ....✉︎ an extremely overworked, sleep deprived, and substance dependent michael and worried girlfriend reader. ....✎ tw: implied substance abuse. mention of medication. angst. sad. fluff if you squint

“you need to stop doing this to yourself, michael"

the concern in your voice brings michael back to reality. he glances back at the television and swears you just put the movie on. how is it playing the end credits already?

"i'm getting worried about you..." your robe flows in the air as you stride toward him from the living room doorway. he doesn't remember you changing into a nightgown.

you stood in front of him blocking his vision from the screen. and he just looks up at you, eyebrows knit together, mouth agape – trying to find the words to say. it's rare that he's rendered speechless.

as you look into his eyes, a nauseating wave of sadness washes over you. he just seems so...exhausted. without any of his usual makeup, you can clearly see the weight of the world on him. his usually bright doe eyes looked cloudy, lost, and confused. you can barely recognize him with his eyes sunken and red.

it's clear to you that he hasn't been getting sleep again. and it made you want to cry because he's still trying so so so hard for you. you don't know why he said yes to a movie night with you when it's obvious that he hasn't slept in days. pushing himself to spend time with you on his only free day.

but that's just the kind of person michael jackson is. he will do what he wants, even at the cost of himself.

with that, you let out a deep sigh as you knelt in front of him. he leans forward to meet your forehead, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of your palm resting against his jaw. relishing in the comfort that you were providing as you held his face in your hands.

“you didn't even notice you fell asleep, michael" you try to sound stern.

as a response, he takes your hand and softly presses his lips against your palm. "you worry about me too much, baby" he reassures. or tries to.

"i'm your girlfriend. it's my job to fuss over you"

he smiles at you, pulling you up from the floor and into his lap. your arms wrap around his neck as you plant yourself atop his legs.

“baby i swear i'm okay, just a little loopy. that's it."

you're not convinced. and how could you be? he just finished a tour with his brothers, and here he was again, knee deep into making another hit album. not to mention, still recovering from an accident all those months ago. you can't tell which of his medications are doctor or self-prescribed.

truthfully, his passion is one of the reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place. his hunger for greatness is one of the reasons why he’ll continue to insist that everything is fine. that he is fine. but michael is anything but okay, and everyone around him knows that. you're just the only one who cares enough to stop him.

“sorry I fell asleep baby, I really didn’t mean to”

he must think you're mad at him for falling asleep on your date because he sounds defeated. he searches your eyes for a response, but you don't think he'll remember any of this. you simply pull him tighter and press a small kiss on his forehead, making sure he feels loved instead. 

“don’t beat yourself up over it, mike” you're up on your feet as you take his hand, urging him to follow suit to your shared bed. you have him change into comfier pyjamas before you make him drink a melatonin tea.

as you both lay down in bed, duvet engulfing your bodies, he asks you one last question.

"you're not sick of me yet, are you?" his voice cracks at the slightest, and your heart breaks. you turn to face him, and your eyes soften as you trace the baby hairs that frame his face.

“of course not, silly goose. i love you too much. i'm here forever” you force out a smile, but your brows dip in worry.

he's too tired to respond, so he just nods repeatedly. ultimately relieved to hear you say that. this time, he pulls you closer and engulfs you into his arms, head resting atop yours. you can hear his heartbeat as you rest your ear to his chest. when it slows down, you suspect he's finally asleep.

so you let yourself cry a little, soft sobs escaping your mouth as you try to hold in your tears. but your emotions betray you, and soon enough, a part of michael's shirt dampens with your tears.

but michael wasn't asleep just yet. and he can tell he wasn't meant to hear this part.

"i'm here for as long as you're here...so i swear to god michael, you better not leave me alone on this earth" he knows what you mean – what you're silently begging for, what your grief-stricken tears are about.

so right there and then, he promises to be better starting tomorrow. he wants to be here with you for a long, long time.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ............✎ masterlist

author's note: i must love pain because what the hell.

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upcoming work

going insane with all the mature!michael, age gap trope, and sugarbaby!reader fics....

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conversations between hospital visits

❛ dad! michael jackson 𝑥 female pediatrician !reader ❜ ....✉︎ slice of life of how you meet and fall in love. you're a pediatrician. michael's kids are your patients. ....✎ tw: mentions of debbie + surrogacy, infidelity (no actual cheating)

HOW YOU MEET

michael Jackson almost never panics. that is, until he started having children.

he found himself visiting the children's hospital more often. he told himself it's paranoia, first-time dad jitters maybe. it is a bit ridiculous how fast he can get to the doctor as soon as little prince makes a coughing sound or scrapes a knee. that is a far more reasonable explanation anyway.

the truth is, Michael fell in love with you the moment he stepped foot into your office. the very first time he held his very sick baby boy, he came to you anxiously. rambling on about how he doesn't know what he did wrong.

you gently placed your hand atop his, calming his nerves. and assured him he did nothing wrong, and that he did right by his son by taking him to the hospital. your hands left his to tend to his child, but the electricity lingered. he couldn't forget that.

so here he was, in front of you again. prince on his lap, crying out of frustration, as babies do. “hi mr. jackson, what seems to be the problem with little prince over here?” your smile towards prince was so sweet he could faint.

maybe it’s the way you always greet his child first, plastering your beautiful smile towards the infant. or maybe it's the way you sincerely apologize to prince after giving him his much needed immunity boosters. or is it because you hum little lullabies while you're doing physical examinations ? he couldn't determine what he was so enamored by the most.

what he surely likes, is how despite being the doctor of michael jackson's children, you could care less that you're the doctor of michael jackson's children. he doesn't know if he should be a little offended that you pay almost no mind to him, not swooning or jumping at the opportunity of a photo-op. when his kids are in your office, your attention is 100% on them. except for the polite greetings and formal instructions for diagnosis and care, of course.

while it is your job, he found it intriguing. even his personal doctors who had treated him throughout the years only seem interested in him, asking for pictures just for proof that 'hey, i helped heal michael jackson!' finally a doctor that just...cares for their patients.

“no worries mr. jackson, this is a completely normal developmental response. Here are some natural teething remedies that have worked on my kiddos, works like a charm”

his heart dropped. your kiddos?

“how old are they?” he hid the disappointment in his voice with a soft smile. but your confusion made him laugh a little "your kids, how old are they?"

“ah I did it again didn’t I…” you nervously chuckled under your breath. "sorry, I just have this habit of calling all patients ‘my’ kids” you hurriedly finished the rest of your home care instructions, hoping that michael found your comment cute rather than weird.

lucky for you, it was endearing to him. "that's adorable" he responded. as you handed him the prescription, he checked for a ring on your finger, before quickly glancing over your desk to see for a picture of a boyfriend. he felt relief when he couldn't find any evidence.

"thank you doctor, i'll take good care of him" your fingertips brushed against each other, and he noted how easy you are to blush.

MICHAEL THE REGULAR PATIENT

michael ends up at your office at least once every month. Sometimes just to ask a question or two. And sometimes, without any of his children.

“mr. Jackson, you know, you don’t have to come all the way up here to ask a question. I’d be glad to answer any of your concerns through email” you offered with a small smile as you placed your card in front of him.

to you, a friendly offer.

to him, it felt like a boundary.

you don’t miss the way his face fell, eyes baring the disappointment. moments like this he wished he had his sunglasses on.

“n-not that I don’t enjoy our little chats, I just…I know it’s inconvenient having to come all the way here to the hospital that’s all. I know you get mobbed at the lobby almost every time and that must be stressful for you…” you rambled “and for the kids, of course”

he's touched by how thoughtful you are. and he hoped that your care for his family's wellbeing isn't just because you're their pediatrician.

“y-yeah the kids..they don’t enjoy that so much” he added. a beat goes by before he leaned forward from the chair, elbows resting on your desk as he cocked his head with a question

“do you do home visits as well?”

BECOMING THE IN-HOUSE DOCTOR

monthly professional visits at his home were routine now. regular checkups on prince and paris, vitamin restocking, vitals checking, basic developmental tests. you were honestly running out of things to do. his children were so perfectly healthy, you didn't have to be there.

michael would always invite you over to stay for dinner. at first, you refused. afraid that this was unprofessional. but prince had learned how to talk recently, and you couldn't refuse his "pwease doctor y/n. pwease have dinner with us"

michael liked having you over for dinner because that meant prince would finish all the food on his plate. or at least, that's what he tells bill. but everyone in the room can see the way he stares so lovingly at you, mesmerized by the way you talk as you enticed prince to eat all his spaghetti. it's so mundane. but he smiled to himself anyway as he fed paris another spoonful of mush.

more often than not, the dinners turn into late night conversations, soft voices over freshly brewed calming teas in the living room. fireplace in full display with an old record playing in the background. you talked about anything and everything. dreams for yourself and for the world. you share in a mission to end child suffering. he thinks you're perfect.

“and your wife?….” you had the courage to ask one night.

“oh we’re not…like that. debbie is a good friend. we have an...agreement about the children...” he took a long sip of his tea, afraid of your response.

“like a surrogate? that’s very modern of you mike” a name you have only used once or twice before – he needs to get used to it so his ears stop flushing.

“yeah, is that weird?” you found it cute that he still seeks for validation

“I think it’s beautiful.” was your honest answer.

then it was his turn to ask. “do you ever think about having kids?”

“all the time. but I want to get married first. i'm a bit traditional that way” you admitted, a shy smile on your lips as you held your gaze to the fireplace.

“I think you and I are very alike y/n" he turned to face you, not breaking eye contact as you clinked your teacups together. chamomile in his, and peppermint in yours.

HIS DIVORCE

his divorce was all over the newspapers. and he spared no time in publicly winning your affection immediately after. he would send flowers to your hospital every. single. day. each came with a different love note, always signed with MJJ, as if you needed to be reminded on who it came from.

your older kid patients teased you if they caught you blushing.

LIFE AS MIKE'S

it didn’t take much for you to start dating officially.

soon you were at his home almost every night. and slowly, you were weaved into every corner of his life, and every fibre of his being.

the guards let you pass through the gates with ease. security didn’t have to pat you down thoroughly anymore. the chefs learned your favorites. bill knew your home and work address by heart. and the children started including you in their crayoned family portraits.

one of the greater perks of being his girl was getting to know and seeing the man that he truly is. more than the performer on stage – you saw the doting father, kind-hearted friend, loyal brother, and loving partner.

and my god did he looove to spoil you. not just with pretty gifts but with experiences you both could cherish forever. he would think of something new and exciting for the two of you to try. whether that's a night drive at a safari or going on a disney world tour.

"i want to see the whole world with you" he'd say as he smiled from ear to ear, guiding your hand to follow him.

he cared so much for others that he often forgot about himself. you took on this role quickly. you had audited his entire medical team and demanded a change in healthcare regimen, a focus on long-term healing rather than short-term numbing. "hey, who's the professional here" michael protested at first, but you made a very good argument.

and when the pressures of being the king of pop bubbled up to the surface, there is no better person to turn to than you. his insecurities, anger, frustration – all melt the moment you lay by his side.

the night air got chilly, but you nuzzled your face closer to his neck as you whispered "remember the important things Mike" your voice was small, quiet and steady. he' was so focused on the way your chest moved up and down with every breath, slowly synching with his. and just like that, he was grounded once again.

"i love you, you know that right?" he said into the air as he hugged your waist tighter. "you're one of the important things" is the last thing he muttered before he lulled into a deep sleep.

DOCTOR MOMMY

"is doctor mommy coming over today?" paris asked one morning while she was on a walk with her father, bright blues looking up at him as she firmly held his fingers. he had never heard his kids call her that before. his heart swelled, and he bent down to her level before saying "how would you like it if she were here everyday?"

paris' bright smile was all the confirmation he needed.

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

michael proposed over a candlelit dinner at his property. he transformed his garden at the ranch into an intimate celebration – a table just for two, surrounded by the beauty of nature. string lights hanging from his giving tree, illuminating your beauty amidst the night sky.

he brought out a letter he wrote, afraid he'd forget what to say. he was sweating a little, and you found his nervousness cute. you lightly dabbed his forehead with a napkin, and before you could retreat your hand, he grabbed it and interlocked fingers with yours.

he began to read

"my dearest y/n.

it's been over 3 years since i met you. and i swear, my heart has been beating faster ever since. you are the most intelligent, kind, and beautiful woman i have ever met. and you have given me the utmost privilege of being able to love you.

you make me a better man and a better father. i live everyday hoping to see you smile, or hear your laugh. i love your childlike wonder, and how you never judge me for who i am, inside and out. to the world, i may be michael jackson. but at the end of the day, i prefer to just be your mike. always.

i also cannot thank you enough for loving my kids like your own. i never pictured them having a mother in their life, the same way i never pictured falling in love again. but I'm sure glad this is the life i have been given. I thank God every day for the gift that is you.

if you could do me this honor, i would love to spend the rest of my days with you. y/n my wife.

your husband, michael"

you wanted to make fun of him for being so sure you'd say yes. but you couldn't, not when he's knelt on his knee, as tears threatendd to spill from his eyes. because you felt the same way. this was your husband, and so by far the easiest "yes" in your life.

you could only muster a nod as he slipped the ring into your finger. he held both your hands tightly as you both stood up, leaning forward, foreheads touching. you placed your hands on his cheeks as your eyelashes fluttered upwards to look at him

you really, looked at him. the beautiful, kind man you fell in love with.

you kissed him, fervently, and fully. he embraced your waist with large hands, and pulled you closer so that your bodies pressed tightly against each other. he didn't comment on the tears he can taste on your lips, or the drum-like beating of your chest.

all he could think about was how lucky he was to have found peace in you.

michael never panics anymore, not with you by his side.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ............✎ masterlist

author's note: I haven't written in 2.5 years, i am so rusty it hurts to publish this. i hope to improve as I continue writing. requests are open!

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I think I cooked with this username

- - -

hi! I’m tee.

recently made this side blog to write about the one and only, Michael Jackson

main k-pop writing: @haesunflower

nsfw k-pop writing: @dalmoonflower

writing coming soon!