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"And when we talked about being number 1 on the call sheet and the responsibility that comes with that... You're number 1. People are watching you and watching your behavior and they're gonna know how to move the other actors, etc. And I want you to be the king like your uncle."
â dad! michael jackson đ„ female pediatrician !reader â
....âïž slice of life of how you meet and fall in love. you're a pediatrician. michael's kids are your patients.
....â 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. âhi mr. jackson, what seems to be the problem with little prince over here?â your smile towards prince was so sweet he could faint.
maybe itâs 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.
âno 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 charmâ
his heart dropped. your kiddos?
âhow old are they?â 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?"
âah I did it again didnât IâŠâ you nervously chuckled under your breath. "sorry, I just have this habit of calling all patients âmyâ kidsâ 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.
âmr. Jackson, you know, you donât have to come all the way up here to ask a question. Iâd be glad to answer any of your concerns through emailâ 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 donât miss the way his face fell, eyes baring the disappointment. moments like this he wished he had his sunglasses on.
ân-not that I donât enjoy our little chats, I justâŠI know itâs inconvenient having to come all the way here to the hospital thatâs all. I know you get mobbed at the lobby almost every time and that must be stressful for youâŠâ you rambled âand for the kids, of courseâ
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.
ây-yeah the kids..they donât enjoy that so muchâ 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
âdo you do home visits as well?â
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.
âand your wife?âŠ.â you had the courage to ask one night.
âoh weâre notâŠlike that. debbie is a good friend. we have an...agreement about the children...â he took a long sip of his tea, afraid of your response.
âlike a surrogate? thatâs very modern of you mikeâ a name you have only used once or twice before â he needs to get used to it so his ears stop flushing.
âyeah, is that weird?â you found it cute that he still seeks for validation
âI think itâs beautiful.â was your honest answer.
then it was his turn to ask. âdo you ever think about having kids?â
âall the time. but I want to get married first. i'm a bit traditional that wayâ you admitted, a shy smile on your lips as you held your gaze to the fireplace.
âI 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 didnât 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 didnât 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 â 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 â 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 â 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.
â michael jackson đ„ long term gf! reader â
....âïž established relationship. michael and y/n have a huge fight before attending his friend's wedding. michael likes to problem solve by sending you expensive gifts. but this time, your forgiveness cannot be bought.
(setting: elizabeth taylor's 1991 wedding at neverland. not completely canon)
....â warnings/tags: long arguments and fighting. implied that michael is having issues (generic, not specified) and keeping secrets. if you've read lisa marie's autobiography it's loosely inspired by the fact that he kept her in the dark about everything and hated when she asked questions. no happy ending btw.
you haven't seen him in days. unreachable is an understatement.
you don't know what he's been up, let alone where he's been the whole week. you spent your mornings leaving him calls everywhere â his other homes, the studio, the record label, the hospital, even the hotels he'd frequent at when he wants an escape. you spent your evenings staying up for him, awaiting his return, only for you to wake up to his side of the bed completely untouched.
you begged and pleaded his security team, his lawyers, his doctors, and the rest of the staff to tell you where he was. no one would budge.
when he got word that you were out and about looking for him, his first line of defense was sending you an expensive flower arrangement with a note that says "i'll be home soon, baby". you threw the flowers in the bin after you tried calling him for the nth time.
bill must have told him what happened, because the next day, he sent over an expensive swarovski bracelet. this time with a note that says "something you can't throw away ;)" the wink taunted you.
an expensive gift usually does the trick. usually.
but this time you were relentless. you went to hayvenhurst and asked katherine if you knew where he was. "he just gets like this sweetie, he disappears for days on end. you need to get used to it by now" she tries to explain to you over coffee. but you refuse to accept it.
while this isn't the first time he'd done this to you, this is the longest time he's disappeared. what is so important that he's unable to pick up your calls for 10 seconds just to let you know he's okay?
you were tired. so you stopped calling. and you stopped looking.
a week later, he showed up at the house (his house, really) telling you to "get dressed, we have a wedding to go to" without so much as an explanation of his disappearance.
you were worried sick. but now you were beyond angry.
"oh, so i don't even get a decent hello from you?" you raise your eyebrow.
he must have thought this was a game, and the unseriousness in his demeanor as he steps inside the living room pisses you off. he laughs and licks his lips as he inches closer to you. hands on your waist he singsongs "cmon baby, don't be grumpy. today's supposed to be a happy day"
you lightly push his chest away, but he kept you steady.
"happy day, my ass." you retort.
he holds out a bag to your hands, a new and surely expensive dress for you to wear. "i even bought you something pretty to wear, lovey. quit complainin' and let's go" he was still grinning, thinking your little tantrum would eventually fade.
the thing is, this wasn't a tantrum.
"where have you been, michael?" you remove his hand from your waist with so much force that his smile disappears. further creating distance by pointing a finger to his chest, manicured nail pushing him away from you.
the question hung in the air. and suddenly the ceiling looked reallll interesting to him. eyes rolling, he mumbles "does it matter? you got all my gifts didn't you, baby?"
he looks at you through his thick lashes, doe eyes on full display as he works his usual charm. "what does that even have to d-" you try to explain. but his face is unchanging, no remorse at all.
"forget it, i'm not going anywhere with you." you drop the bag and start walking up the stairs. spitting out a string of curse words as the loud clacking of your heels made your disdain for him extremely known.
he took bigger strides to catch up with you and when he did, he took your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
"today y/nâ" he pleads through his teeth.
he called you by your first name. not baby, not lovey, but y/n.
"âall i'm asking today is for your cooperation. we will show up for elizabeth's wedding, then we can talk about this later." he gestures for you to take the dress in the bag.
"fine." you emulate his tone, as you grab the bag from him. "but only because it's for elizabeth"
you were now all dressed, but you were still not happy.
and it definitely showed on your face.
"for the love of god y/n, can you wipe that frown off your face? i don't want you looking all upset at the wedding" he sighs, exasperated as he opens the car door for you.
you don't give him the pleasure of a verbal response. instead, you grab the door handle and slam it shut â walking to the other side of the car instead and hopping in the vehicle.
and when you get to the venue, which apparently was just on the neverland ranch premises, you are a doll to everyone but him. you greet everyone with a warm smile and air kisses, making small talk with people he knows you hate, and introducing yourself to strangers he knows you don't care about.
he tries to grab your hand mid-conversation with a mutual friend, only for you to swat it away. and when he offers you a drink, you take one from the waiter who passes by instead.
just like that, he's absolutely invisible to you.
michael decides that he'd rather have you yell at him all day, than suffer another minute of the silent treatment.
"i'll be right back, my love" he says before walking away, even though he knows you won't respond.
as the ceremony begins, you've found yourself at your designated seat near the front. the music plays, and you watch as michael walks elizabeth down the aisle.
he's devastatingly beautiful and you hate him all the more for it. he stands by the couple for the entire ceremony, and it takes extreme focus for you not to look at him.
"i promise, beyond material possession, beyond worldly matters, to give you what is taken for granted by many.
i promise you my full, undivided presence â my whole being, at all times.
not merely the years we are given, but the ordinary moments that make a wonderful life, the mornings before the world wakes, the conversations that run too long, the quiet evenings when there is nothing to say.
i promise that you will never have to earn my attention, compete for my affection, or wonder if you matter enough for me to stay.
because love is not measured by what we provide. it is measured by how often we choose to remain."
ah.
michael genuinely feels like an idiot when he sees you holding back your tears at elizabeth's vows. he looks at you, brows furrowed, but you won't look at him back.
it is only when the guests leave, and the ranch finds its quiet, when michael has the courage to speak to you. he found you at the kitchen, pouring yourself another glass of red wine.
"i messed up big time, lovey" he genuinely doesn't know where to begin. so he starts with an apology. "i'm sorry for disappearing on you all the time" his hands are on the counter, right next to yours. but he doesn't dare touch you yet, afraid you'll retreat.
you sat yourself down on the barstool, knowing this will be a long conversation. "today at the wedding, when I was ignoring you, how did that feel?" you ask.
"it killed me" he answers truthfully.
"and that was just a few hours of your day, michael. could you handle what you put me through?" it's a question that runs a chill down his spine. your eyes are staring at him coldly, and a wave of self-loathing lands.
"why do you do it, michael? why do you keep doing this to me?" you take a swig of your wine. as if bracing yourself for the answer.
his jaw tightens. for a moment, he says nothing. because the answer sounds pathetic now that he's forced to say it out loud.
"i.... don't know."
you scoff.
"because it's easier" the answer comes so quickly that it surprises both of you.
michael closes his eyes as he continues "i know that's a terrible thing to say..." he walks closer to you, and the wine tastes bitter in your mouth. "i disappear because it's what I've always done. when things get complicated, when I don't want to explain myself, when I don't want someone seeing me at my worst...i just disappear"
you don't respond.
"and for all of my life..." he swallows. "people let me." his words hang in the air.
his voice is barely above a whisper now "i knew you were looking for me baby, i knew you were calling everyone."
your grip tightens around the stem of your glass.
"and instead of calling you back, I sent flowers." the shame on his face is unmistakable. "then a bracelet."
he lets out a breath, your silence is deafening.
"because somehow it was easier for me to spend thousands of dollars than it was to spend ten seconds picking up the phone." he continues "i think... i don't want you to see me when i'm like that y/n."
michael shakes his head, eyes glistening as he finally admits "i keep choosing my comfort over your peace of mind." the confession hangs heavily in the room.
for the first time that night, his voice breaks. "because if you disappeared on me the way i disappear on you..."
he swallows hard. "i wouldn't survive it, baby."
you look at him, long and hard. and as much as you want to forgive him, you need him to know this. "you know what the worst part was?" you began.
michael waits.
"the worst part wasn't wondering if you were okay. it was wondering why i wasn't worth the ten seconds."
the words hit him harder than anything else you've said that night.
"loveyâ" "don't, michael."
his mouth closes.
"for a week..." you shake your head. "...for a week I begged people to tell me where you were." a bitter laugh escapes you as you threw your hands in the air. "and apparently everybody knew except me."
the shame on his face deepens.
"i felt stupid." your voice cracks for the first time, resolve slowly breaking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. "can't you understand that?"
you look away, not wanting him to see you cry. "i felt pathetic, like some crazy girlfriend chasing after a man who didn't want to be found."
"but that's not what you areâ"
"âbut that's what you made me feel like." you stood up to place your wine glass in the sink. "the flowers, the jewelry, i don't want any of it."
your words are soft, broken "i want the phone call, mikey. do you know how sad it is that I have to beg for something that small?" you wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
you were right.
"when you disappear, you need to remember that there's someone waiting for you to come home." your sniffles are uncontrollable. "stop filtering yourself around me, i can handle it. the good, the bad, the ugly"
michael nods, taking your words to heart.
"i can handle it because i love you"
he walks up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. his chin rests on your shoulder. you're too tired to push him away anymore. after a week of doubt, fear, and uncertainty, you melt into his touch. and as much as you were still angry, you just wanted him.
"i know. i'll be better, i promise" he whispers.
"you can't do that to me again, michael. i mean it"
"i know, lovey" you feel him nod as he softly strokes your hair.
and for now, a promise is enough. but you doubt he'll be able to keep true to it.
so for now, you nod too, because you want to believe it. you want to believe it so badly.
â michael jackson đ„ long term gf! reader â
....âïž established relationship. michael and y/n have a huge fight before attending his friend's wedding. michael likes to problem solve by sending you expensive gifts. but this time, your forgiveness cannot be bought.
(setting: elizabeth taylor's 1991 wedding at neverland. not completely canon)
....â warnings/tags: long arguments and fighting. implied that michael is having issues (generic, not specified) and keeping secrets. if you've read lisa marie's autobiography it's loosely inspired by the fact that he kept her in the dark about everything and hated when she asked questions. no happy ending btw.
you haven't seen him in days. unreachable is an understatement.
you don't know what he's been up, let alone where he's been the whole week. you spent your mornings leaving him calls everywhere â his other homes, the studio, the record label, the hospital, even the hotels he'd frequent at when he wants an escape. you spent your evenings staying up for him, awaiting his return, only for you to wake up to his side of the bed completely untouched.
you begged and pleaded his security team, his lawyers, his doctors, and the rest of the staff to tell you where he was. no one would budge.
when he got word that you were out and about looking for him, his first line of defense was sending you an expensive flower arrangement with a note that says "i'll be home soon, baby". you threw the flowers in the bin after you tried calling him for the nth time.
bill must have told him what happened, because the next day, he sent over an expensive swarovski bracelet. this time with a note that says "something you can't throw away ;)" the wink taunted you.
an expensive gift usually does the trick. usually.
but this time you were relentless. you went to hayvenhurst and asked katherine if you knew where he was. "he just gets like this sweetie, he disappears for days on end. you need to get used to it by now" she tries to explain to you over coffee. but you refuse to accept it.
while this isn't the first time he'd done this to you, this is the longest time he's disappeared. what is so important that he's unable to pick up your calls for 10 seconds just to let you know he's okay?
you were tired. so you stopped calling. and you stopped looking.
a week later, he showed up at the house (his house, really) telling you to "get dressed, we have a wedding to go to" without so much as an explanation of his disappearance.
you were worried sick. but now you were beyond angry.
"oh, so i don't even get a decent hello from you?" you raise your eyebrow.
he must have thought this was a game, and the unseriousness in his demeanor as he steps inside the living room pisses you off. he laughs and licks his lips as he inches closer to you. hands on your waist he singsongs "cmon baby, don't be grumpy. today's supposed to be a happy day"
you lightly push his chest away, but he kept you steady.
"happy day, my ass." you retort.
he holds out a bag to your hands, a new and surely expensive dress for you to wear. "i even bought you something pretty to wear, lovey. quit complainin' and let's go" he was still grinning, thinking your little tantrum would eventually fade.
the thing is, this wasn't a tantrum.
"where have you been, michael?" you remove his hand from your waist with so much force that his smile disappears. further creating distance by pointing a finger to his chest, manicured nail pushing him away from you.
the question hung in the air. and suddenly the ceiling looked reallll interesting to him. eyes rolling, he mumbles "does it matter? you got all my gifts didn't you, baby?"
he looks at you through his thick lashes, doe eyes on full display as he works his usual charm. "what does that even have to d-" you try to explain. but his face is unchanging, no remorse at all.
"forget it, i'm not going anywhere with you." you drop the bag and start walking up the stairs. spitting out a string of curse words as the loud clacking of your heels made your disdain for him extremely known.
he took bigger strides to catch up with you and when he did, he took your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
"today y/nâ" he pleads through his teeth.
he called you by your first name. not baby, not lovey, but y/n.
"âall i'm asking today is for your cooperation. we will show up for elizabeth's wedding, then we can talk about this later." he gestures for you to take the dress in the bag.
"fine." you emulate his tone, as you grab the bag from him. "but only because it's for elizabeth"
you were now all dressed, but you were still not happy.
and it definitely showed on your face.
"for the love of god y/n, can you wipe that frown off your face? i don't want you looking all upset at the wedding" he sighs, exasperated as he opens the car door for you.
you don't give him the pleasure of a verbal response. instead, you grab the door handle and slam it shut â walking to the other side of the car instead and hopping in the vehicle.
and when you get to the venue, which apparently was just on the neverland ranch premises, you are a doll to everyone but him. you greet everyone with a warm smile and air kisses, making small talk with people he knows you hate, and introducing yourself to strangers he knows you don't care about.
he tries to grab your hand mid-conversation with a mutual friend, only for you to swat it away. and when he offers you a drink, you take one from the waiter who passes by instead.
just like that, he's absolutely invisible to you.
michael decides that he'd rather have you yell at him all day, than suffer another minute of the silent treatment.
"i'll be right back, my love" he says before walking away, even though he knows you won't respond.
as the ceremony begins, you've found yourself at your designated seat near the front. the music plays, and you watch as michael walks elizabeth down the aisle.
he's devastatingly beautiful and you hate him all the more for it. he stands by the couple for the entire ceremony, and it takes extreme focus for you not to look at him.
"i promise, beyond material possession, beyond worldly matters, to give you what is taken for granted by many.
i promise you my full, undivided presence â my whole being, at all times.
not merely the years we are given, but the ordinary moments that make a wonderful life, the mornings before the world wakes, the conversations that run too long, the quiet evenings when there is nothing to say.
i promise that you will never have to earn my attention, compete for my affection, or wonder if you matter enough for me to stay.
because love is not measured by what we provide. it is measured by how often we choose to remain."
ah.
michael genuinely feels like an idiot when he sees you holding back your tears at elizabeth's vows. he looks at you, brows furrowed, but you won't look at him back.
it is only when the guests leave, and the ranch finds its quiet, when michael has the courage to speak to you. he found you at the kitchen, pouring yourself another glass of red wine.
"i messed up big time, lovey" he genuinely doesn't know where to begin. so he starts with an apology. "i'm sorry for disappearing on you all the time" his hands are on the counter, right next to yours. but he doesn't dare touch you yet, afraid you'll retreat.
you sat yourself down on the barstool, knowing this will be a long conversation. "today at the wedding, when I was ignoring you, how did that feel?" you ask.
"it killed me" he answers truthfully.
"and that was just a few hours of your day, michael. could you handle what you put me through?" it's a question that runs a chill down his spine. your eyes are staring at him coldly, and a wave of self-loathing lands.
"why do you do it, michael? why do you keep doing this to me?" you take a swig of your wine. as if bracing yourself for the answer.
his jaw tightens. for a moment, he says nothing. because the answer sounds pathetic now that he's forced to say it out loud.
"i.... don't know."
you scoff.
"because it's easier" the answer comes so quickly that it surprises both of you.
michael closes his eyes as he continues "i know that's a terrible thing to say..." he walks closer to you, and the wine tastes bitter in your mouth. "i disappear because it's what I've always done. when things get complicated, when I don't want to explain myself, when I don't want someone seeing me at my worst...i just disappear"
you don't respond.
"and for all of my life..." he swallows. "people let me." his words hang in the air.
his voice is barely above a whisper now "i knew you were looking for me baby, i knew you were calling everyone."
your grip tightens around the stem of your glass.
"and instead of calling you back, I sent flowers." the shame on his face is unmistakable. "then a bracelet."
he lets out a breath, your silence is deafening.
"because somehow it was easier for me to spend thousands of dollars than it was to spend ten seconds picking up the phone." he continues "i think... i don't want you to see me when i'm like that y/n."
michael shakes his head, eyes glistening as he finally admits "i keep choosing my comfort over your peace of mind." the confession hangs heavily in the room.
for the first time that night, his voice breaks. "because if you disappeared on me the way i disappear on you..."
he swallows hard. "i wouldn't survive it, baby."
you look at him, long and hard. and as much as you want to forgive him, you need him to know this. "you know what the worst part was?" you began.
michael waits.
"the worst part wasn't wondering if you were okay. it was wondering why i wasn't worth the ten seconds."
the words hit him harder than anything else you've said that night.
"loveyâ" "don't, michael."
his mouth closes.
"for a week..." you shake your head. "...for a week I begged people to tell me where you were." a bitter laugh escapes you as you threw your hands in the air. "and apparently everybody knew except me."
the shame on his face deepens.
"i felt stupid." your voice cracks for the first time, resolve slowly breaking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. "can't you understand that?"
you look away, not wanting him to see you cry. "i felt pathetic, like some crazy girlfriend chasing after a man who didn't want to be found."
"but that's not what you areâ"
"âbut that's what you made me feel like." you stood up to place your wine glass in the sink. "the flowers, the jewelry, i don't want any of it."
your words are soft, broken "i want the phone call, mikey. do you know how sad it is that I have to beg for something that small?" you wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
you were right.
"when you disappear, you need to remember that there's someone waiting for you to come home." your sniffles are uncontrollable. "stop filtering yourself around me, i can handle it. the good, the bad, the ugly"
michael nods, taking your words to heart.
"i can handle it because i love you"
he walks up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. his chin rests on your shoulder. you're too tired to push him away anymore. after a week of doubt, fear, and uncertainty, you melt into his touch. and as much as you were still angry, you just wanted him.
"i know. i'll be better, i promise" he whispers.
"you can't do that to me again, michael. i mean it"
"i know, lovey" you feel him nod as he softly strokes your hair.
and for now, a promise is enough. but you doubt he'll be able to keep true to it.
so for now, you nod too, because you want to believe it. you want to believe it so badly.
Hi! I love your work so much! Would you be interested in writing a Michael x reader except the reader deals with anxiety and depression? I love depression comfort fics, they help me a lot, and I canât find any with Michael! đ«¶
thank you for your kind words!
i can definitely explore something like this, but i admittedly don't have much experience. i'll do my research and include this in the queue. :)
â michael jackson đ„ long term gf! reader â
....âïž established relationship. michael and y/n have a huge fight before attending his friend's wedding. michael likes to problem solve by sending you expensive gifts. but this time, your forgiveness cannot be bought.
(setting: elizabeth taylor's 1991 wedding at neverland. not completely canon)
....â warnings/tags: long arguments and fighting. implied that michael is having issues (generic, not specified) and keeping secrets. if you've read lisa marie's autobiography it's loosely inspired by the fact that he kept her in the dark about everything and hated when she asked questions. no happy ending btw.
you haven't seen him in days. unreachable is an understatement.
you don't know what he's been up, let alone where he's been the whole week. you spent your mornings leaving him calls everywhere â his other homes, the studio, the record label, the hospital, even the hotels he'd frequent at when he wants an escape. you spent your evenings staying up for him, awaiting his return, only for you to wake up to his side of the bed completely untouched.
you begged and pleaded his security team, his lawyers, his doctors, and the rest of the staff to tell you where he was. no one would budge.
when he got word that you were out and about looking for him, his first line of defense was sending you an expensive flower arrangement with a note that says "i'll be home soon, baby". you threw the flowers in the bin after you tried calling him for the nth time.
bill must have told him what happened, because the next day, he sent over an expensive swarovski bracelet. this time with a note that says "something you can't throw away ;)" the wink taunted you.
an expensive gift usually does the trick. usually.
but this time you were relentless. you went to hayvenhurst and asked katherine if you knew where he was. "he just gets like this sweetie, he disappears for days on end. you need to get used to it by now" she tries to explain to you over coffee. but you refuse to accept it.
while this isn't the first time he'd done this to you, this is the longest time he's disappeared. what is so important that he's unable to pick up your calls for 10 seconds just to let you know he's okay?
you were tired. so you stopped calling. and you stopped looking.
a week later, he showed up at the house (his house, really) telling you to "get dressed, we have a wedding to go to" without so much as an explanation of his disappearance.
you were worried sick. but now you were beyond angry.
"oh, so i don't even get a decent hello from you?" you raise your eyebrow.
he must have thought this was a game, and the unseriousness in his demeanor as he steps inside the living room pisses you off. he laughs and licks his lips as he inches closer to you. hands on your waist he singsongs "cmon baby, don't be grumpy. today's supposed to be a happy day"
you lightly push his chest away, but he kept you steady.
"happy day, my ass." you retort.
he holds out a bag to your hands, a new and surely expensive dress for you to wear. "i even bought you something pretty to wear, lovey. quit complainin' and let's go" he was still grinning, thinking your little tantrum would eventually fade.
the thing is, this wasn't a tantrum.
"where have you been, michael?" you remove his hand from your waist with so much force that his smile disappears. further creating distance by pointing a finger to his chest, manicured nail pushing him away from you.
the question hung in the air. and suddenly the ceiling looked reallll interesting to him. eyes rolling, he mumbles "does it matter? you got all my gifts didn't you, baby?"
he looks at you through his thick lashes, doe eyes on full display as he works his usual charm. "what does that even have to d-" you try to explain. but his face is unchanging, no remorse at all.
"forget it, i'm not going anywhere with you." you drop the bag and start walking up the stairs. spitting out a string of curse words as the loud clacking of your heels made your disdain for him extremely known.
he took bigger strides to catch up with you and when he did, he took your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
"today y/nâ" he pleads through his teeth.
he called you by your first name. not baby, not lovey, but y/n.
"âall i'm asking today is for your cooperation. we will show up for elizabeth's wedding, then we can talk about this later." he gestures for you to take the dress in the bag.
"fine." you emulate his tone, as you grab the bag from him. "but only because it's for elizabeth"
you were now all dressed, but you were still not happy.
and it definitely showed on your face.
"for the love of god y/n, can you wipe that frown off your face? i don't want you looking all upset at the wedding" he sighs, exasperated as he opens the car door for you.
you don't give him the pleasure of a verbal response. instead, you grab the door handle and slam it shut â walking to the other side of the car instead and hopping in the vehicle.
and when you get to the venue, which apparently was just on the neverland ranch premises, you are a doll to everyone but him. you greet everyone with a warm smile and air kisses, making small talk with people he knows you hate, and introducing yourself to strangers he knows you don't care about.
he tries to grab your hand mid-conversation with a mutual friend, only for you to swat it away. and when he offers you a drink, you take one from the waiter who passes by instead.
just like that, he's absolutely invisible to you.
michael decides that he'd rather have you yell at him all day, than suffer another minute of the silent treatment.
"i'll be right back, my love" he says before walking away, even though he knows you won't respond.
as the ceremony begins, you've found yourself at your designated seat near the front. the music plays, and you watch as michael walks elizabeth down the aisle.
he's devastatingly beautiful and you hate him all the more for it. he stands by the couple for the entire ceremony, and it takes extreme focus for you not to look at him.
"i promise, beyond material possession, beyond worldly matters, to give you what is taken for granted by many.
i promise you my full, undivided presence â my whole being, at all times.
not merely the years we are given, but the ordinary moments that make a wonderful life, the mornings before the world wakes, the conversations that run too long, the quiet evenings when there is nothing to say.
i promise that you will never have to earn my attention, compete for my affection, or wonder if you matter enough for me to stay.
because love is not measured by what we provide. it is measured by how often we choose to remain."
ah.
michael genuinely feels like an idiot when he sees you holding back your tears at elizabeth's vows. he looks at you, brows furrowed, but you won't look at him back.
it is only when the guests leave, and the ranch finds its quiet, when michael has the courage to speak to you. he found you at the kitchen, pouring yourself another glass of red wine.
"i messed up big time, lovey" he genuinely doesn't know where to begin. so he starts with an apology. "i'm sorry for disappearing on you all the time" his hands are on the counter, right next to yours. but he doesn't dare touch you yet, afraid you'll retreat.
you sat yourself down on the barstool, knowing this will be a long conversation. "today at the wedding, when I was ignoring you, how did that feel?" you ask.
"it killed me" he answers truthfully.
"and that was just a few hours of your day, michael. could you handle what you put me through?" it's a question that runs a chill down his spine. your eyes are staring at him coldly, and a wave of self-loathing lands.
"why do you do it, michael? why do you keep doing this to me?" you take a swig of your wine. as if bracing yourself for the answer.
his jaw tightens. for a moment, he says nothing. because the answer sounds pathetic now that he's forced to say it out loud.
"i.... don't know."
you scoff.
"because it's easier" the answer comes so quickly that it surprises both of you.
michael closes his eyes as he continues "i know that's a terrible thing to say..." he walks closer to you, and the wine tastes bitter in your mouth. "i disappear because it's what I've always done. when things get complicated, when I don't want to explain myself, when I don't want someone seeing me at my worst...i just disappear"
you don't respond.
"and for all of my life..." he swallows. "people let me." his words hang in the air.
his voice is barely above a whisper now "i knew you were looking for me baby, i knew you were calling everyone."
your grip tightens around the stem of your glass.
"and instead of calling you back, I sent flowers." the shame on his face is unmistakable. "then a bracelet."
he lets out a breath, your silence is deafening.
"because somehow it was easier for me to spend thousands of dollars than it was to spend ten seconds picking up the phone." he continues "i think... i don't want you to see me when i'm like that y/n."
michael shakes his head, eyes glistening as he finally admits "i keep choosing my comfort over your peace of mind." the confession hangs heavily in the room.
for the first time that night, his voice breaks. "because if you disappeared on me the way i disappear on you..."
he swallows hard. "i wouldn't survive it, baby."
you look at him, long and hard. and as much as you want to forgive him, you need him to know this. "you know what the worst part was?" you began.
michael waits.
"the worst part wasn't wondering if you were okay. it was wondering why i wasn't worth the ten seconds."
the words hit him harder than anything else you've said that night.
"loveyâ" "don't, michael."
his mouth closes.
"for a week..." you shake your head. "...for a week I begged people to tell me where you were." a bitter laugh escapes you as you threw your hands in the air. "and apparently everybody knew except me."
the shame on his face deepens.
"i felt stupid." your voice cracks for the first time, resolve slowly breaking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. "can't you understand that?"
you look away, not wanting him to see you cry. "i felt pathetic, like some crazy girlfriend chasing after a man who didn't want to be found."
"but that's not what you areâ"
"âbut that's what you made me feel like." you stood up to place your wine glass in the sink. "the flowers, the jewelry, i don't want any of it."
your words are soft, broken "i want the phone call, mikey. do you know how sad it is that I have to beg for something that small?" you wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
you were right.
"when you disappear, you need to remember that there's someone waiting for you to come home." your sniffles are uncontrollable. "stop filtering yourself around me, i can handle it. the good, the bad, the ugly"
michael nods, taking your words to heart.
"i can handle it because i love you"
he walks up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. his chin rests on your shoulder. you're too tired to push him away anymore. after a week of doubt, fear, and uncertainty, you melt into his touch. and as much as you were still angry, you just wanted him.
"i know. i'll be better, i promise" he whispers.
"you can't do that to me again, michael. i mean it"
"i know, lovey" you feel him nod as he softly strokes your hair.
and for now, a promise is enough. but you doubt he'll be able to keep true to it.
so for now, you nod too, because you want to believe it. you want to believe it so badly.
genuinely don't know what to work on first. but everything here has a rough outline already. let me know which ones you'd like to see first
wedding! michael x worried gf y/n
michael and y/n have a huge fight before attending his friend's wedding. mature era.
genre: mostly angst and slight fluff
-> so i ended up publishing this already, read it here (in love and war)
disguise! michael x record shop employee y/n
record shop employee!reader keeps michael's many many disguises a secret so he can shop at his favorite record store in peace. one day, she slips up and calls him by his real name. oops.
genre: fluff
starting a family with mature! michael headcanons
the journey of starting a family with your fiance, michael. mature era.
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive content.
thrad! michael x jealous gf y/n argues about diana ross
of course your argument is about diana...again. he's pissed off. you're pissed off. how does it end?
genre: angst and smut
womanizer! michael x jealous y/n (age gap/bratty reader)
michael loves women. allll types of women. you can't help but feel jealous. he shows you that you're his favorite. mature era.
genre: smut
â jealous!michael jackson đ„ female !reader â
....âïž 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)
....â 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.
whatâs funny is that you can see him pouting from across the room. you donât have to look at him directly to know, heâs just so painfully obvious with his face.
whatâs 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 wouldnât have to see him staring daggers at every man thatâs trying to own the privilege of a conversation with you.
you werenât 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. itâs the mixer where these grubby men can get their hands on speaking to any artist.
as a PR associate for the record label, youâre used to the one making those introductions. what you didnât expect was for these people to want to talk to you. youâve probably spoken to half the men in that room, being whisked away from one conversation to the next.
meanwhile, you havenât 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 couldnât 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 manâs 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.
thatâs it. heâs 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 âdid I say somethinâ wrong?â 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.
âah mr.jackson. nice of you to join us. i was just telling y/n here about this piece i just bought fr-â
âletâs go home. now.â 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 wouldnât 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. âapologies, will you excuse me?â 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, heâs a perfect gentleman. stopping bill from opening the car door so that he can do it just for you. âget inâ he deadpans.
âi brought a car remember, i can drive myself homeâ you dangle your keys in the air before he plucks them off your fingers. âpleaseâŠjust get in the carâ he pleads at this point, other hand still holding the car door open.
you have no choice but to follow. he doesnât even slam the door once youâre safely inside.
the car ride home is silent, save for Michaelâs incessent finger tapping on the left console where his hand rests. heâs antsy to speak; but he doesnât know where to begin.
âsomething wrong, applehead?â 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 youâre such a brat.
âI get what ya trying to do you knowâ he starts.
âand what was it I was trying to do?â your arms are crossed.
âmy girl was trying to make me jealous. talking up those other men, taunting me, because you know i canâtâŠâ his voice softens and he reaches out to unfold your arms.
âbut am I your girl, michael? last I checked, you donât even want to be seen with me in publicâ
okay, he totally gets it now. youâre 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.
âbaby you know it isnât like thatâ voice low, he pushes your hair behind your neck. giving him room to plant a little kiss near your collarbone.
you donât need much convincing either, practically letting him litter kisses all over you. âdid I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?â he comes closer as he whispers âmy girl, my girl, my girl..I was practically drooling in there begging for your attentionâ
his hand rubs at your knee, slowly making its way up your thigh, taunting you âbut all you wanted to do was talk to those men. do you enjoy making me jealous?â he asks into your ear.
âwell, did it work?â you taunt back. palm resting against his chest, feigning a stop in his ministrations.
âyou definitely have my full attention now, babyâ he smiles before he kisses you. he takes your wrist and removes your hand from his chest, guiding you to grasp his hair instead.
youâre 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.
âtell me whoâs making you feel goodâ
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. âwhat was that? I canât hear you baby, hmm?â
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.
âlouder.â he demands, unrelenting at his pace. he presses hard against your clit, feeling your walls tighten.
âyou mike. only you make me feel good.â panting. your senses are overwhelmed, thoughts so clouded that the only thing you can chant at this point is âmike, pleaseâ
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 â 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 â before ultimately returning to use the back entrance to your own home.
âin all seriousness I hate that we have to keep us a secretâ you pout.
"yeah safe to say, lesson learned" he kisses your pout away and makes you wear his shades. "letâs 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.
â michael jackson đ„ female !reader â
....âïž 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)
....â 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.Â
âmichael, should we break up?â
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 didnât 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.
âdid I do something wrong? did something happen?â confusion laced his voice.
âthis relationship is dead weight for your career, michael.â
he couldnât 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 thatâs what led you here â physically in the same room, yet hearts still painfully distant.Â
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 â 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.
âhow come you stopped humming?â 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.
âi 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 â
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 â 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 knowâ
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, itâs not a decision you should make alone.Â
âyou're right. i'm sorry for bringing up. i hate the idea of ending us as much as you doâÂ
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 othersâ 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.Â
âcan we just stay like this?â 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.
âwe can stay like this however long you want.âÂ
âi meant, can we just stay as we are? i don't want things to change.â for someone that wrote a lyrical masterpiece in under an hour, he sounded as desperate as a little boy.
âi know what you meant, mikey. and yes, I wonât leave your side everâÂ
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.Â
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 youâre meant to be.
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.
iâm certain itâs 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 đ
i think the worst thing is that thereâs 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 donât think I can sit through that without vomiting or crying.
What I fear for the most: what if itâs framed so compellingly that I start believing in it? Thatâs what I fear.
I want to stay in my Michael bubble forever. I agree, let him rest in peace. Itâs been 21 years since he was found not guilty. And 17 years since he passed. đ
