summary: Y/N has spent months writing about New Yorkâs favorite masked hero. The only thing she doesnât know is that every time Spider-Man disappears, her boyfriend is already on his way to her.
content: spider-man!michael jackson x reader. journalist!reader. au. fluff. pictured otw/thriller mj. fluff. proofread but there might be some mistakes.
NYC, 1981
âLook! Look! Itâs Spider-Man!â A little boyâs voice echoed across the sidewalk, rapidly drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Conversations died mid-sentence. A businessman stopped checking his watch. A woman carrying grocery bags looked up so quickly she nearly dropped them.
Y/N had been on her way home, struggling with all the papers and files she had been carrying, when she stopped abruptly and followed the kidâs pointing finger toward the skyline.
âThere he is.â She thought to herself.
A flash of blue and white swinging effortlessly between Manhattanâs buildings, disappearing behind one skyscraper only to reappear from another only a heartbeat later. Graceful and weightless. So smoothly it was almost criminal. Like New York City itself had decided gravity was optional for exactly one person.
A small grin appeared on Y/Nâs face as her eyes caught the afternoon sun reflecting off the rhinestones scattered across the single glove Spider-Man wore over his right hand. Nobody knew why only one of his hands sparkled while the other remained hidden beneath the blue fabric of his suit. Rumors ranged from it being good luck to some elaborate superhero technology, but no explanation ever stuck.
It had simply become part of him, you know? The sparkly glove. Whenever the sunlight caught it just right, it flashed across the Manhattan skyline like a shooting star, announcing his arrival before anyone even laid eyes on him.
The crowd collectively gasped and pointed. Some waved. A few children jumped excitedly, convinced he could somehow see them from thirty stories above.
Nobody screamed hysterically anymore, not these days, no.
Spider-Man had become less of a mystery and more of a friendly neighborhood protector. Of course, nobody knew who he was. And nobody seemed particularly interested in ruining the mystery of his identity, There was an unspoken understanding throughout the city that some secrets were meant to stay secrets. And as long as he kept catching muggers before breakfast and dangling purse snatchers from traffic lights, new yorkers were perfectly happy minding their own business.
High above them, Spider-Man released one web and caught another.Â
âAOW!â His voice bounced between the buildings.
The little boy burst into laughter. âOh, he so does that on purpose!â he exclaimed, delighted, pulling at his motherâs elbow for excitement. âAwo!â He mimed in his tiny voice.
Y/N couldnât help smiling. âHeâs such a dork,â she murmured to herself, shaking her head fondly at the familiar figure.
Spider-Man disappeared around another building, only the occasional glimpse of blue between the steel and glass letting the city know he was still somewhere overhead.
She kept watching until he vanished completely into the skyline. A sigh escaped her.
It had become a small routine at this point: whenever she happened to catch a glimpse of him, her day somehow got a little better.
Y/N wasnât one of those people who collected newspaper clippings or claimed theyâd spotted him every other Tuesday. She simply liked the comfort of knowing that somewhere above the city, someone was looking out for it. It made New York feel⊠safer, in a way.
âOne of these days,â she muttered to herself again, adjusting the strap of her tote bag, âMichael will introduce us.â
Her boyfriend, Michael, somehow, possessed the worst timing of any human ever. Which was particularly ironic considering he worked as a photographer for the Daily Bugle.
You see, the two worked for the newspaper, Michael in photography and Y/N writing. Well, now she was starting to call herself 'spider-writer', since their boss and chief editor, J. Jonah Jameson had been making her write solely for one topic and one topic only: your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Y/N was starting to get bored, to be honest. People always circled back to the same tedious questions â âWHO IS SPIDER-MAN?â orâHOW DID HE GET HIS POWERS?â. But Y/N had outgrown those wondersânow she had interests in things like why did New York trust him? What was his moral compass? Would he be there whenever needed? Why on earth did he war that bedazzled glove?
At least Jonah allowed her to get into those matters.
Michael, on the other hand, had photographed Spider-Man more than one time. He had sold front-page pictures of him and even claimed the guy was âactually really niceâ. Meanwhile, Y/N had yet to see Spider-Man do anything more exciting than swing between buildings yelling nonsensical little noises.
He always seemed to catch the interesting parts. She seemed to always miss those spicy bits. It was beginning to feel personal, truly.
What Y/N didnât know, thoughâwhat she couldnât possibly knowâ was that she had, in fact, seen Spider-Man every single day face to face. Usually over breakfast, wearing oversized sweaters and apologizing for being more than five minutes late.
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âExcuse me!â His voice rang through the air. âOh, careful there, miss!â He swung from a traffic light to another. âHee-hee!â He yelled.Â
Michael swung through New York as fast as he could, trying to make it to his girlfriendâs apartment before movie night officially became âMichaelâs late againâ night.
âOh, shoot!â He cursed as his eye caught the time in a digital watch nearby that hung off a nearby storefront. He looked around for a few seconds and spotted a familiar face shaking their head negatively at him.Â
Bill Bray, who Michael considered a friend and was lucky enough to have as father figure, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a bouquet in one hand and an unmistakable scowl of disapproval on his face, staring at Spider-Man as though he were one of the bad guys.
Michael sighed before dropping directly in front of Bill. The man stood in the street in front of a little flower cart wearing a beige hat, an elderly lady standing behind said cart looking a little taken aback. Her eyes wandered from Bill to Spider-Man a few times before she mimed Billâs disapproving expression in a very comical way. Spider-Man was truly becoming a regular client nowadays.Â
âI know, I know!â Michael complained, voice sounding tired, as he tried to reach for the bouquet. Bill retracted his arm, keeping the flowers out of Michaelâs reach. Instead, he reached up and fixed Michaelâs blue mask, smoothing it out where itâd shifted. Then he brushed a bit of dust from one shoulder. âThanks.â Michael said softly.Â
And then Bill pointed a sharp finger towards him. âYou gotta watch out, kiddo,â He licked his lips. âOne day that girl will get tired of these poor excuses of yours!â
Michael sighed again and ran his gloved hand through his face covered by the Spider-Man mask. âShe believes me.â He argued.Â
âNo, no,â Bill cut him off mid sentence. âShe loves you! And itâs about damn time you fill her in, and you know it!â
âYeah, I know, I know.âÂ
The ladyâs eyes darted between Michael and Bill with obvious interest. Then they drifted down to the bouquet. Every week Spider-Man would show up and grab a bouquet. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was sunflowers. This week was sunflowers.
âDoes Spider-Man have a special someone?â Curiosity got the best of her and she couldnât resist in asking.
Spider-Manâs body language changes completely. He scratched the back of his neck and looked away, as if someone could see the blush that crept its way into his cheeks.
Bill rolled his eyes.Â
âI, uhâMaybe.â Michael said in a shy tone, a little nervous laugh escaping through his lips.
âYa know, âmaybesâ buys flowers every thursday.â The lady mocked, an amused smile crossing her sweet wrinkled face.
âSheâs uh,âŠâ He bit his bottom lip underneath the mask. âEhm, sheâs a⊠a pretty young thing.â You could actually hear his smile.
The floristâs own smile widened. Even Bill fought back a grin.
âOh?â
âMhm.â
âAnd does Pretty Young Thing know sheâs dating Spider-Man?â
Michael let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.
âNo, she doesnât and itâll bite him in the butt!â Bill answered before Michael had the chance.Â
âOh, you must tell her, then!â The lady sided with Bill and Michael (besides recognizing signs of some irritation at their persistence) knew they were right.Â
But the thought of it alone made his stomach tighten. Could you imagine if one of enemies found out she mattered to him? That could go wrong really quickly. All it took was one enemy. One photograph. One wrong person putting two and two together. Suddenly Y/N wouldnât just be his girlfriendâsheâd be a target.
And sweet, caring, love-of-his-life, Y/N deserved something as close to normal as he could possibly offer her. And Michael felt selfish enough to keep her as his girlfriend, even if that meant hiding the truth for as long as he could. She was everything to him. Everything.
He let out another sigh before checking Billâs wristwatch. âCan I go now?â He asked, softly. Tiredly.
Bill clicked his tongue and let out a huff. He extended the bouquet to Michael and let him grab it.Â
âSunflowers are her favorite.â Michael said with a tiny smile taking over his masked lips. âThanks, Bill.â
âNo problem, kiddo.â
âThank you, ma'am.â He tapped two fingers against his forehead before pointing them toward her with a boyish smile underneath the blue mask. âSee ya!â, then launched himself back into the Manhattan skyline.
The florist watched him disappear, then turned to Bill. âHeâs hopelessly in it, isnât he?â
Bill didnât bother looking up. âYup.â
âSweet boy, though.â
âToo sweet for his own good.â
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As Michael swung through the familiar streets and avenues on the way to Y/Nâs apartment, something caught his attention, like it usually would: an orange cat was stranded on the fire escape of a six-story apartment building, meowing pitifully while an elderly man leaned out of his window a floor below.
"Oh, Mr ButtonsâŠâ He pleaded helplessly, one hand over his chest. "Please, please don't jump."
Michael sighed. "Really?" He looked toward the skyline. Then at the cat. Then toward the skyline again. Then at his wrist, which had no watch. Well, was already late. Might as well, right?
"AOW!â he yelled dramatically to absolutely no one before changing courses. A web caught the side of the building and, seconds later, Spider-Man landed smoothly on the fire escape.
"Oh, thank goodness!" The elderly man sighed with relief at the sight of him. Michael waved politely at the man.
He placed the bouquet under one of his arms, trying and hoping too keep it at least, somewhat, secure.
The cat blinked up at him with its enormous amber eyes.
"...Hi."
It let out one tiny, pitiful meow in response.Â
Michael smiled beneath the mask. âMâkay, here we go..." He reached out carefully, scooping the orange fluff into his arms.
The transformation was immediate. Claws, teeth and hissesâall at once, everywhere.
"HISSSSS!"
"Oh my god!â
The kitten twisted like it was possessed, every paw going in a different direction. Michael kept trashing around along with the feline, trying to get ahold of it.
Sharp, tiny claws latched onto his forearm. Then his shoulder. Thenâ "Dang it!" One particularly offended swipe caught him clean across the cheek, getting a small rip through his mask.
At that Michael nearly lost his footing on the fire escape. "Hey, hey!" he pleaded, desperately trying not to drop the tiny menace. "I'm literally rescuing you! Câmon, donât make this difficult!â The cat responded by attempting to climb onto his head. "No, no, noâwe don't need to be up there!"
It hissed again.
âNow you're just being dramatic."
Another hiss.
Michael sighed, gulped and reached one delicate hand out, trying to pet the cat. âI know you're scared." The kitten bit his gloved index finger.
âOuch!â He jerked his hand away. âOkay, maybe you're just mean."
The cat somehow managed to hook all four paws into his suit at once, dangling from his chest like an angry orange ornament.
Michael sighed.
âOut of all the dangers in the city, this is what will take meâŠâ Michael complained under his breath, slowly starting to turn towards the old manâs window.
He finally managed to peel the cat off his suit one tiny paw at a time, cradling it firmly enough that it couldn't launch into another attack.
The cat glared up at him. Michael glared right back through the white lenses of his mask.
"We are never doing this again." He warned, pointing a sharp finger at the cat.
It sneezed in his face.
Michael closed his eyes. âAlrighty, then.â
A moment later, he lowered the little orange menace safely into its owner's waiting arms. The transformation was miraculous--It immediately began purring.
Michael stared in complete disbelief. "Oh, so now you behave?"
The old man laughed. "Mr Buttons can be... spirited."
"Spirited?" Michael touched the fresh scratch on his cheek, grimacing at the stingy feeling of touching it. âSir, respectfully, your cat just tried to kill Spider-Man."
The cat blinked innocently.
âOh, donât you gimme that look!â
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A few moments later he reached the familiar alley he always hid his suit and âtransformedâ into simply Michael Jackson, the photographer and boyfriend, before going to Y/Nâs place.
Michael caught his reflection in the rain puddle at his feet and stared. The suit looked exactly as it always had: royal blue from neck to boots, broken only by crisp white panels sweeping across his shoulders, forearms and sides like the sharp lines of an expensive suit tailored for someone who spent more time in the air than on the ground. A black spider stretched across his chest, its long eight legs blending with the white. The mask's white lenses reflected the city lights back at him, giving away nothing of the tired eyes behind them. His right hand glittered--tons of tiny rhinestones caught even the weakest light, turning the glove into a shooting star whenever he swung between buildings. Most New Yorkers assumed it was part of the costume, some flashy signature, something Spider-Man wore simply because he was Spider-Man.
But in reality, the glove served a purpose: it was stitched with fine grip pads along the fingertips and palm, giving him greater precision whenever he aimed a web or caught the edge of a building at impossible speeds. The rhinestones weren't just decoration: their texture gave his fingers subtle tactile reference points, allowing him to adjust the angle of his wrist without ever taking his eyes off where he was going. The sparkle had simply been Michael's idea.
'If I have to wear it every day,' he'd once reasoned while tailoring the whole suit, 'might as well be pretty.'
He wiggled out of the blue suit before putting it away in a handbag he kept hidden behind a metal trashcan, the rhinestone glove being the last thing he placed inside the bag. He took a deep breath and zipped it shut, placing it hidden and shooting a web at it to keep it secure. You never know, right?
His curls were messy and a few stubborn locks stuck to his sweaty forehaed. Cheeks flushed bright red and the scratch on his left one (curtesy of Mr Buttons) stood out in bloody maroon. He hadnât notice it, since it had stopped stinging.
Michael jogged with the bouquet in his hand to the familiar building where his girl resided. He finally made his way up to her floor, two steps at a time.
A little disappointed huff left him as he caught sight of the (now ruined) flowers as soon as he reached her door. Couldnât even get her proper flowers, he thought. Shaking his head, he finally knocked.Â
Y/N opened the door about two seconds later, a wondering gaze on her eyes. She was still in her work clothes, dark pants, white shirt and black vest on top. Michael gulped, looking away for a split second. He loved her in those outfits. But then again, he loved her in anything (specially nothing).
She lifted a brow and tilted her head, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms over her chest. An amused expression crossed her face. âWell, did they fight back, at least?â She asked while nodding towards the wrecked flowers.Â
Michael looked down at the bouquet and smiled shyly. âBravely.âÂ
Y/N shook her head and reached out for it. She lifted the bouquet up to her nose and took a deep breath, sighing and closing her eyes at the pleasant fragrance. Then, she turned her eyes to Michaelâs face, frowning and reaching out delicately for his cheek. She softly crossed her thumb across the bloody scratch. Concern started to kick in.
âDid you get hurt? What happened? Did you get into a fight? Do you need me to-âÂ
âBaby, baby-â Michael cut her off and took her wrists delicately into his hands. A warm smile appeared on his lips. âIâm okay. Just a scratch, isn't it?â He shook his head, quicly trying to come up wiht a good excuse. âI just, uhm, the camera, you know?â
Y/N narrowed her eyes at his response. âYeah, right,â She pulled him inside by the arm. âthe camera.â
Michael closed the door behind him and pulled Y/N back into him by the wrist, kissing her temple before she made her way to her kitchen, searching for a vase for the flowers. She stopped on her tracks briefly, though, turning around and pecking his lips not once, not twice, but three times. Michael kissed her back, leaning in for more, but was met with nothing but disappointment as she made her way to flower-care.
He looked down in a bummer, but trailed after anyway. That was until something caught his eye. A few papers laid messily around the coffee table in front of her couch, notes scattered and some cut-out newspaper pieces with Spider-Manâs name and pictures. His heart skipped a beat.
Among the scattered newspaper clippings and notes, one hastily written headline immediately caught his eye:
'WHY NEW YORK TRUSTS SPIDER-MAN?'
âAnother Spider-Man article?âÂ
Y/N didnât bother looking up, concentrated on making the flowers fit the vase.Â
âMhm.âÂ
âIâm starting to think you have a crush on him.â Michael teased, crossing the living room and placing himself right behind her, arms around her waist and chin resting on top of her head.Â
Y/N raised her brows at that, shifting around to face him. Her back was now against the kitchen counter and her front faced Michael. âWell, if anyone has the hots for him, itâs Jonah,â She slipped her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers together behind it. âThe man wonât let me write about anything else besides Spidey content. Itâs annoying, really.â
âMhm,â Michael nodded, a teasing smirk on his face. If only she knew how much he enjoyed reading her words on him. âSpidey, huh?â Oh, if only she knew.Â
She frowned. âAre you jealous of Spider-Man, Mike?â
âWhat? No! Thatâs ridiculous!â He immediately replied.
Y/N burst out laughing at his defensiveness. She shrugged. âOh, well, at least Spider-Man is pontual!â
Michael let out the most offended little gasp she'd ever heard. âYou take that back!â
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A few minutes later, they were curled up together on Y/N's couch, wrapped beneath a shared blanket.
Michael managed to keep the bowl of popcorn equilibrated on his stomach as he laid with his head resting on Y/Nâs tights. She sat up, a hand playing absentmindedly with his curls.Â
About 15 minutes into the movie he fell asleep, little snores coming out of his mouth selling him out.
Y/N was used to it by now and she didnât mind itâstopped pretended to get upset over it months ago. She carefully reached for the bowl on his stomach, placing it on the table next to her side of the couch before letting her fingers wander back into his hair. She looked down at him and softly ran a finger through the cut in his cheek.Â
Before, she meant to clean and take care of it, not wanting him to get it infected or anything. Michael had protested, of course. âItâs barely even a scratch!â He had complained. âItâll heal on its own.â
Y/N just stared at him looking very unimpressed before cleaning it with antiseptic spray and applying some healing ointment over it.
Michael secretly loved whenever she took care of him. He thanked her afterwards with a kiss.
Now, a warm feeling took over her chest as she stared at him. He was painfully handsome. And Y/N was painfully aware of it. But not only physically beautiful, no. He couldn't walk past someone who needed help without stopping. He remembered everyone's birthday, always gave away more than he kept for himself, and carried the weight of other people's happiness as though it were his own responsibility. Sometimes she worried he cared so deeply about the world that he forgot to leave a little of that kindness for himself.
She brushed another curl away from his forehead, smiling to herself. She loved him. It almost hurt just how much.
Her gaze drifted toward the stack of papers on the coffee table, and her stomach tightened ever so slightly. Jonah had been making her life miserable over the Spider-Man article for days now, despite the fact that the deadline was still a week away.
Her thumb gently brushed another curl away from his eyes. She let her fingertips linger against his cheek, smiling when a tiny snore escaped him. Her thoughts, however, betrayed her once more.
Spider-Man.
Y/N had stopped wondering about his identity long ago. Whoever hid beneath the mask had proven, time and time again, that he loved this city enough to bleed for it. To put strangers before himself. To keep showing up. That was enough for her.
Outside her appartment, the city didnât sleep.
If you got really quiet, firefighters sirens could be heard several blocks away. Car horns and curses from angry civilians could be heard as well. A police helicopter crossed somewhere above the rooftops. People cursing. Shouting. Laughing.Â
All across the city, crime carried on. New York never slept. Neither did danger.
But just for a little while, for just one quiet evening, Spider-Man did. Just for one quiet, rare night off, the mask sat forgotten inside an old handbag hidden in a forgotten alley.
The webs could wait. So could the city. Just for a little bit.
For a moment, Spider-Man allowed himself to be simply Michael Jackson. A shy photographer who was always running late; a hopeless romantic who bought wrinkled flowers every tuesday and who fell asleep on his girlfriendâs lap over movies.
Y/N smiled down at him one last time before closing her own eyes, still hoping Michael would introduce her to Spider-Man, someday.Â
And somewhere in the coffee table, an unfinished articled asked:
next era i write shall be the jacksonâs late 70âs era mikey. pretty much michael when he was about my age! n we both gonna have afros n be cute hehehe
michael and his young(er) clothing designer wife who just started a youtube channel for funzies
ur daughter is âđŁâ ! (reader doesnât have a face ofc, i just put the pics for vibes <3. pics from pinterest)
https/www.youtube.com
an unsuccessful attempt at making clothing !! âĄ
uploaded march 8, 2011
[VIDEO START]
YOU: okay, how do i⊠ew not that angle..
youâre fighting with the camera, fixing your hair when you finally place it down in front of where you sit.
YOU: um hello, today iâm a bit busy but i wanted to give you all a little peek into-
đŁ: MOOOOMMYYY LOOK AT MY PICTURE I MADE!!!
a tiny hand holding construction paper covered in glitter glue comes up into frame. michael is adamant on not putting the kidsâ faces online, so thankfully thatâs all thatâs visible.
đŁ: look! look! look! itâs a present for daddy.
you move back as your daughter completely shoves it in to your face for you to see.
YOU: yes i see it baby! it looks so beautiful! daddyâs gonna love it.
đŁ: thank you, i go make more now!!!
little footsteps can be heard running away as you put your hands together and sigh at the camera.
YOU: where was i? ⊠right!
you look around before leaning in as if youâre spilling a secret, and not posting this to the worldwide webâŠ
YOU: okay, donât tell anyone, but i was thinking of selling some new pieces, something like this?
you point your sketchbook at the camera, the silhouettes showing through the grainy quality. until youâre interrupted by a knock at the door.
MICHAEL: hey mama, whatâre you up to?
michael bends down into frame, taking your face into his gentle hands as he gives you a sweet kiss. it makes you blush and smile at the camera as if you were caught in real time.
YOU: babeee! i was making a videoâŠ. i need to edit that somehow⊠i should probably just start over at this point
he makes eye contact with the camera, eyebrows raised before laughing softly.
MICHAEL: ah no no, sorry love i donât mean to interrupt. just wanna see what my ladyâs been doing. look at all thisâŠ
you grab the camera to pan over fabric samples and color swatches. michaelâs hands are grazing over them, feeling at the different textures.
YOU: exactly what i was going to show next! the materials im debating on using.
your manicured finger can be seen pointing as you try and explain.
YOU: so i was thinking this one on the skirt, and-
your husband reaches over you, nearly bumping the camera out of your grip.
MICHAEL: lemme see.. this oneâs real pretty. and pink. iâve never seen so much glitter before.
you laugh at how much heâs over exaggerating.
YOU: âŠ.. you literally wore glitter jeans and shoes yesterday, babe! and can you move your big ass hands please? why donât you go see what your daughter is doing!?
you give up trying to hold the camera steady and just place it back in position. but heâs still sifting through the pile, a shiny gold patch catching his eye.
MICHAEL: wait a minute.. i like this one here.
he picks it up, twirling it in his fingers for a second.
MICHAEL: yâknow what you can make outta this?
YOU: what?
michael grins at you.
MICHAEL: an armband!
he holds it up against his arm, modeling it for you. noticing you just staring at him, he gives a breathy laugh.
MICHAEL: what? im serious. wouldnât it go nice?
heâs looking at his own reflection in the camera now, hitting as many different outrageous poses as possible before getting shy.
MICHAEL: please, make one just for me, baby? iâm puttinâ in a custom order.
his suggestion had nothing to do with the task at hand, but heâs so cute that you canât even deny him. you can only giggle.
YOU: of course mikey, iâd love to sew you one but iâm trying to work on-
MICHAEL: gee, will you? i canât wait.
he peppers kisses on your hands and then your forehead, cheeks, and lips, before looking at the camera.
MICHAEL: oh.
YOU: MIKEYYYY-
[CUT]
youâre holding the camera facing yourself, laying on the fluffy carpet now.
YOU: my family wonât allow me to be productive, so im actually gonna call it a day. maybe take a nap! well, thatâs if they even let me. bye!
you blow kisses to the screen as your husbandâs still meddling around.
MICHAEL: baby, this one would make a nice little swimsuit..
[VIDEO END]
and yes, you made his custom gold armband!
a/n: Try not to write about michael hands challenge. can you tell iâm obsessed with that manâs hands ? whewww. and pls lmk if this format was too much ! wanted it to read like a video but idk if this is any good lmaoaoo. also lets be mutuals pls guysss
Preview: Your pregnant and home alone when a craving hits. Maybe you can slip out before Michael gets home, right?
Content: Fluffy goodness, protective Michael, bit suggestive at the end.
A/N: On the fence about this one, but hope ya'll enjoy!
As always likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated.
âą âą âą â§ âą âą âą
Dangerous era:Â
Neverland Ranch, Sept 1991; 12:30amÂ
Comfortably lounging on the couch, you were content with a copy of Rochele Alersâ âMy Loveâs Keeperâ, when a sudden urge hit you like a mack truck. The craving for a Mexican pizza and hard shell tacos was instant.Â
Rubbing a soothing hand over your 6 months pregnant belly, you hoped the motion would alleviate the sudden kick your son had just delivered to your side.Â
âAlright little one, mommy is trying to finish this chapter please.â You cooed.Â
As if that wasnât a good enough reason, he kicked again harder.Â
âWell that was just rude, nugget.â You protested, rubbing a palm over the offended area.Â
Placing your bookmark and closing the book. You set it down on the table and tossed the throw blanket off your legs. Since you were so rudely interrupted, by your own child no less, it was decided you were venturing out in search of food.Â
Luckily Michael was still in the studio working on his latest album, âDangerousâ and wouldnât be home for at least a couple hours, plenty of time for you to satiate your craving and be back home with no one none the wiser.Â
Glancing down at the oversized Spelman sweatshirt, black leggings and white crew socks you wore, it would have to suffice. Sliding your feet into the black birkenstocks resting on the shoe rack by the door, you grabbed your crossbody draping it across your frame and shuffled toward the side door just off the kitchen.Â
With keys in hand you locked the door behind you and stepped out into the slightly cool night heading toward your red 300 class Mercedes Benz. Keeping the top up and grateful for tinted windows, you gingerly slid into the seat, sticking the key into the ignition starting the car.Â
Jodeciâs sultry and melodic opening to âCome and Talk to Meâ filled the space and you said a quick prayer for safe travels and that your husband wouldnât find out youâd left the ranch.Â
Removing the headset from his head and twisting his neck to relive the stiffness of being in the recording booth for 12 hours straight, Michael was weary and exhausted. A hot shower, soft bed and his wife were the only comforts he wanted now.Â
âHey Mike, that was it man. Weâre wrapping for the night!â Teddy Rileyâs voice came through the speakers.Â
Michael was experimenting with a new sound, âNew Jack Swingâ and in turn working with Teddy the originator of said sound. The album was shaping up beautifully and at nearly two years, was near completion.Â
Being a perfectionist took its toll at times, but he knew it would more than be worth the late nights, worn vocal chords and rushed kisses from his wife.Â
Stepping out the booth, Michael bore a tired smile on his angelic face. âThose background vocals are gonna hit just right. Iâm pleased with them.â He declared.Â
Flicking his wrist, he noted the time; quarter to one. Definitely time to get home to my babies. He thought.Â
âIâll be in tomorrow afternoon Teddy, have a good night man.â Michael announced as he gathered his black fedora and sunglasses in hand and left the studio.Â
He found Bill waiting for him in the idling car. Not wasting a moment, he opened the rear passenger door and damn near collapsed onto the soft seat.Â
Without fully turning, Bill let a small chuckle escape. âBout wore yourself out again huh Joker?âÂ
âThe price of fame and perfection Bill, but I miss my bed and my wife.â Michael huffed out a tired sigh.Â
âThen letâs get you home so you can be welcomed by both.â Bill suggested as he pulled off into the sleepy California night.Â
    âââââ ⊠ââââââââ ⊠ââââââââ âŠ
Nodding off under his fedora, Michaelâs sleep laden eyes peered open when the car came to a stop.Â
âMichael, youâre home. Gone head and get some rest cat, Iâll see you later today.â Bill announced.Â
âThanks Bill, good night.â Michael yawned.Â
âNight son.â Bill lightly chuckled with a small shake of his head.
Michael exited the vehicle sluggishly and ambled toward the front door. Unlocking and pushing the door open, he noted the soft glow of a lamp supplying the only source of light. Walking fully into the foyer, he gently closed the door so as not to startle or wake you.Â
However, unknown to Michael you were presently nowhere to be found in the house.Â
Following the faint brightness as if a fairy was dropping pixie dust, his eyes flicked around the family room expecting to possibly see your smiling face but only a forgotten book and rumpled throw blanket remained.Â
Assuming you were probably in bed fast asleep, Michael made his way up the winding staircase, mindful of creaking steps. Reaching the top of the landing he removed his fedora and tugged the ponytail holder from his loose curls.Â
Pulling a hand through the strands, he detangled a few knots, silently wishing they were your fingers instead. He always enjoyed the scalp massages and the way your nails felt against the nape of his neck.Â
Padding silently into the bedroom, he was grateful for the guidance of the bed side lamp on his night stand so he didnât stumble and disturb you. Placing the fedora and ponytail holder on the couch in the sitting area of your shared bedroom, Michael stopped short.Â
Frozen for just a moment, he turned his head almost owlishly and finally noticed the empty, perfectly made bed.Â
Brows furrowing and nose scrunched, he scratched his head.Â
âTink, where you at girl?â he called out, the old nickname slipping past his tongue with ease
Darting to the bathroom, it was empty. The spare bedrooms on the second floor, no signs of life.Â
Racing in and out of the kitchen, theatre room, study and sunroom calling out your name, a sense of panic started creeping up Michaelâs spine and came to breathe on his neck.Â
âBaby, answer me please!â Michaelâs anxious voice rang out.Â
In no time flat youâd reached your destination, Taco Bell and were rocking from side to side happily as you pulled into the drive thru. Mouth practically salivating, you came to a stop in front of the speaker box.Â
âWelcome to Taco Bell, what can I get you?âÂ
âHello, yes can I get a number four with extra sour cream on the pizza please?â You ordered with excitement.Â
âSure and what would you like for your drink?âÂ
âHmm, itâs late so Iâll get a Sierra Mist please.â You replied.Â
âAlright, I have a number four with extra sour cream on the Mexican pizza with a Sierra Mist for the drink. Any sauces for you maâam?â
âYes, hot and mild. Oh oh and can I have light ice in the soda please?â You chirped.Â
âSure thing. Please pull forward to the first window for your total.âÂ
âThank yooou!â you responded in a sing song voice.Â
Paying for your order, you double checked the bag making sure everything was inside and correct. Not making your baby wait any longer, you parked in the closest space, shut the ignition off and pulled out a taco.Â
âMmm, come to mama!â
That poor taco never stood a chance! Tearing open a packet of mild sauce, you drizzled the condiment over the top and took your first bite.Â
HEAVEN!
Devouring the fatty goodness, you let the flavors settle on your tongue long enough to finish the crunchy stuffed shell in a few bites. Wiping your mouth of any crumbs, you took a few swigs of soda and balled up the used wrapper. Tossing it into the bag on your front seat, you placed a hand on your stomach.Â
âAlright baby boy, letâs get home ASAP cause I think your daddy should have left the studio by now.â You voiced with a hint of apprehension.Â
You knew it would be a bit risky slipping out this late, but you figured with Michaelâs schedule the odds would be in your favor. So color you surprised, when you arrived at the front gate and Bobby, the night guard on watch stopped you.
Bringing your car to a stop, your window crept down. Peering out the window, the hairs on the back of your neck raised as if in warning.Â
Bobby ambled over, approaching your door with a heavy sigh.Â
âMrs. Jackson, I promise I didnât give anything away but he called down here asking if Iâd noticed you leaving the property. I told him it was the middle of a shift change and I hadnât seen or heard anything amiss.â He assured you solemnly.Â
Dropping your head, you closed your eyes and groaned. âOh shit, Iâm in trouble.â you murmured dejectedly.Â
âIâm sure heâll be more worried and relieved than upset darlin.â Bobby reached in patting your arm in encouragement.Â
With a huff, you inched toward the main house not in a hurry to face your husbandâs handsome face contorted with worry.Â
Parking in your usual spot, just outside the garage, you grabbed your food and drink heading into the house. The first thing you noticed was how bright everything was, it appeared Michael had illuminated the entire house in his search for you.Â
Setting the bag on the kitchen island, you placed your keys next to it.Â
In a blur of red and black, Michael was upon you, cupping your face in his hands.Â
âWhere the hell were you Tink? I was going outta my mind girl!â Michael stepped back, assessing your body from head to toe, ensuring you and his son were safe.Â
Laying steady and gentle hands on his forearms, you started soothing him in slow broad strokes.Â
âBreathe baby, weâre fine. I just stepped out for some food.â You assured him in your melodic voice.Â
At six months pregnant with your first child, Michael constantly worried and waited on you hand and foot so your little late night adventure was bout to give him a heart attack.Â
A few minutes ambled by before his heart rate stabilized and his chest stopped heaving. Like a switch was flipped, irritation and a bit of anger flooded Michaelâs brain.
âSo you mean to tell me, you went to get food this late at night? Didnât even think to call and let me know youâd be leaving the house?â
Ducking your head, your pretty brown eyes peered up at Michael from under your long doll like lashes.Â
âWell, the baby was hungry and I really wanted a Mexican pizza.â You pouted, hoping the innocent act would play in your favor.Â
âTuh!â Michael folded his arms across his broad chest. âBaby, I love you but you puttinâ yourself and our son at risk for fast food ainât it.â
At that moment, youâd wished you had gotten him a chicken enchilada. Damn, girl. The little devil on your shoulder tsked.Â
âIn my defense, I thought Iâd have plenty of time to go and come back without you even knowing. Blame the kid, he wanted Mexican food and it wasnât like I was gonna cook this late.â You retorted.Â
No longer able to resist, you made a move for your food, reaching into the bag to pull out the remaining hard taco supreme. Grabbing packets of sauce, you poured the hot and mild combination on top and stuffed your face.Â
Michael just stood there in mild disbelief and amusement watching you scarf down the taco.Â
âWhat?â you asked, mouth full.Â
Reaching out to your extended stomach, Michael rubbed gently.Â
âYouâd better get your fill son, cause ya mama is still in trouble.â He spoke to his son while staring you dead in the eyes.
Gulping down the rest of the taco, you knew that look. Michael had a storm brewing behind his big soulful eyes which usually brought a heady mix of both pleasure and pain.Â
âMâmichael baby, itâs late. Donât you wanna get some rest, I know itâs been a long day for you.â You tried redirecting.Â
A dark chuckle left his lips, âNah mama, Iâm wide awake now since my pregnant wife decided to sneak out of our home and damn near scare me to death. Now Iâve gotta remind you what happens when youâre a bad girl.âÂ
Bending to place a kiss on your forehead, he snaked a hand behind you and delivered a swift slap to your ass.Â
âOoohâ You shrieked, getting aroused.
âFinish your food baby, when youâre done, meet me upstairs in 15 minutes. And donât make me wait, Tink.âÂ
Strolling out of the kitchen, Michael made his way back up the winding staircase with a smug strut.Â
No, that man didnât just leave you horny in the middle of the damn kitchen with an ache between your thighs.Â
Rubbing your swollen belly, you cut into your pizza that youâd placed on the island.Â
âThatâs your damn daddy and he knows heâs too slick for his own good.â you grinned.Â
With a speed you didnât know you possessed, you polished off the pizza and finished your soda. Tidying up the kitchen of your trash, you flicked the light switch, plunging the space into darkness.Â
Sauntering up the staircase, you couldnât keep the extra sway out of your hips in anticipation of the punishment that awaited you.Â
ââââotw era!michael x fem!readerââââ
summary: michael invites you to join him and his family at a water park they rented out but as he does, j*e says some hurtful stuff so he comes over and you comfort him, hoping to bring back his excitement which also ends in a bunch of cute kisses. later at the water park he misses your kisses and finds an excuse to pull you away for some!
warning: kisses, small makeout sesh, established rlsp, j*seph being rude to michael, angst and fluff
a/n: lowkey have had like no ideas but this popped up!! divider creds to @uzmacchiato!
youâre sitting at home, bored on your bed doodling random little shapes, also a few of michael. youâre thinking about michael and how you missed him like crazy even though you just saw him yesterday. all of a sudden, the phone rings. you pray that itâs him and your prayers were answered and you heard his cheerful voice over the phone,
âhey baby! how are ya?â
âiâm great now that youâve called me!â you giggled, knowing that would fluster him a bit.
before he got the chance to speak you hear another voice cut him off. ugh, joesph.
âmichael, who the hell you callinâ?â he spoke in such a demanding tone, it even scared you a bit. you hear michael timidly explaining that he was just calling to invite you. joseph grunted before responding, âyou always doing something extra boy, why canât you just leave things be.â before michael could respond you hear joseph walking away muttering, âuseless boy.â
thereâs silence on the phone for what feels like 10 minutes but is really only like 3 seconds. michael speaks first, always quick to apologize. âi-iâm so sorry about thatââ
ânono donât apologize, itâs not on you, weâll talk about it later yeah?â you made sure to offer support because after dating michael for a year and a half, you know that anything his father says truly does get to him.
his response comes out small, â..yeah alright.â
you feel a bit sad now that his excitement disappeared. âdonât let him change your mood baby, please. he doesnât know what heâs talking about, okay? now, what were you gonna ask me about baby?â
although not much you hear a slight smile through his next words. âokay, mâsorry, but uh moving on, my family rented out a water park and we were gonna go and i was hopinâ you could come with us..?â
âooh really? iâd love to go!! what time?â
âwe were gonna leave in the next hour but if you wouldnât mind i was hoping to go over to your house until itâs time to leave..â
you know why he wanted to come and youâre glad he asked and hope you can cheer him up before you guys leave to the waterpark.
âyes of course! iâll be getting ready and waiting for you alright?â
you could hear him get happier just from your acceptance. he let out a relieved sigh before talking, âalright i should be there in 10â
âokay, see you baby!â
âbye mama.â
the line clicks shut and you start to get ready, you look for your cutest swimsuit, also the one you know michael loves. along with that, you grab a cute matching coverup to wear until you actually get in the water. you change quickly and grab sunscreen off the desk, massaging it over your body.
as youâre finishing up, applying it to your arms you hear the doorbell ring and practically skip to the door, rubbing the last bit of sunscreen in. you open the door and of course find michael sadly he isnât smiling though. you pull him into a hug and he gives you one back, squeezing you tight. you wave to bill and he waves back before you close the door and walk to your room, michael still hugging you.
you guys sit on the bed and michael reluctantly releases you from the hug. he looks at his lands in his lap, fidgeting with them. you place your hand on his, squeezing once to ground him.
âangel face.. talk to me.â
âi-im fine itâs really not a big deal..â
âmikey. i know you, just talk to me about it, please?â
âiâ okay.. i just feel like he always is there to ruin and take away my happiness, like i donât deserve it. i try so hard, i really do! heâs always calling me useless and ugly and it really does get to me..â he looks at you for a few seconds while talking but then looks back down to your hand holding his but you donât fail to notice the tears glazing over his eyes.
you place your other hand underneath his chin, moving his head to face you, hoping he looks at you. he does thankfully.
âmichael believe me when i say this, in no way, shape, or form are you undeserving of happiness. for all that you go through and the amazing kind things that you do. you deserve so much, truly. you arenât useless at all either, you bring so much joy to others though many things you do, music and all. you bring so much joy into my life michael, i love you so much for that and for many more reasons and regardless if he thinks youâre ugly or not, i donât. in fact i think youâre the most gorgeous man ever. i love everything about you, your kind bubbly personality, your love for animals, your love for helping people, your unwavering kindness, and absolutely stunning face with those beautiful eyes,â you press a kiss to the outer corner of his eye, âgorgeous nose,â you press another kiss to his nose, âcute cheeks,â you kiss the apple of both his cheeks, âand your world healing smile.â you leave a nice long kiss one his lips which he doesnât fail to return.
you look back up at him after the kiss, heâs blushing quite hard and is extremely flustered but his eyes are still glazed over but this time because heâs so overwhelmed by your kindness and love for him.
he pulls you into a hug, super tight.
âhey, hey angel câmon donât cry on me! letâs go have fun yeah?â
âiâm okay mama, i jusâ love you so much. you always there fâme thank you.â he looks into your eyes with so much love your heart is about to explode.
he gives you another kiss and you wipe a tear that manages to slip. âi love you too apple head. iâm always here for ya.â he hums in response and you lock your hand into his. a comfortable silence falls over you both. he lays his head on your shoulder but after trying not to you start giggling, âmichael your hair is tickling me!â
âoopise!â he chuckles and lifts his head. âalright, iâm ready to go now, iâm sure bill is wondering why weâre taking so long.â
he gets up now, hand still interlocked with yours and pulls you up. you guys make it to the car, laughing and smiling.
finally, after what feels like an eternity, you arrive at the waterpark. itâs pretty big and youâre already excited and michael is right there with you! you both get out of the car, almost bouncing with excitement, still holding hands as you meet up with the rest of the jackson.
you briefly let go of michael to hug his brothers and sisters and greet his mother and reluctantly his âfatherâ. you slide a nasty side eye to joseph which he thankfully doesnât notice but michael does making him laugh out loud, tito and jermaine staring at michael like heâs crazy. everyone gets settled in the main pool, getting used to the cold water clashing with the heat of the california sun. after calling each other cowards and daring each other, the brothers all go to enjoy the slides, dragging michael with them. (he loves the slides but he doesnât wanna leave you) youâre left with his sisters and you guys are enjoying some silly gossip and after 15 minutes get bored of the pool and wanna join everyone else on the slides while michaelâs parents stay seated under the shade. you light up a bit at this because it means you can see michael and the sisters notice, teasing you.
âwow, you really do love michael huh, you light up so quick.â janet laughs and latoya with her.
âoh hush! letâs just go!â you wave a hand, jokingly brushing them off and getting out of the pool.
after walking around for a bit you see them all getting ready to climb another flight of stairs and when michael sees you he meets you half way and hugs you, like you didnât just see him 15 minutes ago.
everyone spilts into groups for each slide, rearranging every time you ride on different slides. of course michael tries to be in your group every time but it doesnât always go in his favor to which he frowns and you just laugh at him.
whenever you guys did get in the same group, he kept trying to steal kisses from you but couldnât and you wouldnât let him because everyone was there, and itâs not that you were embarrassed of him or your relationship, never, you were just a bit shy about doing that in front of them especially knowing how much they would tease you two.
around an hour and a half later, you guys were back in the main pool after riding like all of the slides. you needed to use the bathroom but didnât know where it was.
âhey does anyone know where the bathroom is?â immediately after you finish your sentence no one gets a chance to respond before michael does,
âi do, câmon ill take you.â he smiles at you
âdamn michael that was fast.â randy laughs and everyone laughs along with him before going back to what they were doing before.
michael gets out of the water and being the gentleman he is, helps you out too even though you donât need it. the whole walk there heâs acting smug but still talking to you. you brush it off as pride because he answered first finally you guys make it to the bathroom.
you get out but canât find michael, you turn the corner and he jumps to scare you. unfortunately it works..
after screaming you playfully hit his chest. âyouâre so annoying.â which you both know is a complete lie.
âmâsorry! i had too!â
he pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a flower that he places in your hair. âi think the flower is jealous..â he teases.
âwhy would it be?â you play into his joke, still not knowing where he was getting at.
âitâs because youâre so pretty.â he replies with this smug but also somehow cute grin on his face.
âoh hush michael!â you blush and look away, your lips pressed into a smile but he doesnât let you. his hand moves from the flower in you hair to your chin, pulling your gaze back towards him. âyou really are pretty though, i hope you know.â he looks you up and down, biting his lip.
and before you get the chance to respond he kisses you. it lasts for quite some time before you pull away to breathe. he presses a kiss to you cheeks and nose. âgosh, iâve missed you all day you know that? these people getting in the way of me kissing you.â he rolls his eyes and he really does mean it, he gets annoyed whenever he canât kiss you.
you giggle and get youâre about to tease him and as if he senses it, he kisses you again, more passionate this time. you kiss him back with the same energy, and he increases his, and you can feel him smirking through the kiss. you feel his tongue begin to explore your mouth and you follow that same action. a soft sound involuntarily leaves your mouth. that makes michael happy and even more bold.
he pulls back an inch only to go back in but this time biting your bottom lip and sucking on it a bit. he pulls back again, you both notice the string of saliva between both of your lips before it breaks off and you lick your lips. thereâs this insanely hot smirk plastered on his face that makes you want to faint.
he goes back in for another kiss, this one also passionate. you pull back first, âmikey you know we gotta go back right?â
âugh, donât remind me ma.â
âlisten, i missed you too you know? when we go back we can chill in your room and you can kiss me as much as you want there, i promise.â
he lights up at that promise. âi hope you know, i will take you up on that offer.â
âtrust me baby, i know.â he grabs your hand and you guys walk back, of course he stops to kiss your head and your face a few times.
you make it back to the pool and immediately marlon starts talking, âdamn, it took yall long enough, the hell was yall doinâ?â you and michael give each other a knowing glance before you look back at marlon, ânothing, michael just got us lost for a bit.â
âsuree..â janet says suspiciously, you already know sheâs gonna question you later.
michael gives you another look before you both get back into the pool. immediately janet and latoya start questioning you but you avoid it or give vague answers.
âhm.. that a pretty flower though i wonder where it came from.â janet questions teasingly
âjust.. something that magically appeared ya know?â you laugh at their frustration and try and forget about the whole thing, their interrogation and the bathroom trip with michael, the butterflies in your stomach not helping, but michael keeps catching your eye and smiling the whole rest of the time.
a/n: sorrey guys i havenât been posting i had like no ideas but i rlly hope ygs like this one cs i lowk love it!!đ€§
pairing: old man mike x reader and her first generation iphone mature era!michael x reader
summary: michael is old and doesnât understand phones. thatâs it. thatâs the plot.
word count: 332
authorâs note: this was written in like five minutes, i just had to get it off my chest okay?
(tell me y'all have seen this)
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âWhat are you doing over there?â Michael peered at you over the top of the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
You didnât answer, nearly doubled over with silent, hysterical laughter.Â
He had been sitting in his chair reading a book while you sat on the couch, absorbed in a video on your iPhone. The volume was too low for Michael to hear, but apparently, it was hilarious.
âCâmon. I like to laugh.â Michael closed the book and put it down on the coffee table.Â
ââs nothing.â You giggled without looking up.
He frowned, getting up and walking towards the couch, holding out his hand like he expected you to give him the phone.Â
âNo way.â You shook your head, holding it tight to your chest so he couldnât see what was on the screen, like a kid whoâd been caught watching something they shouldnât.
âLet me see.â He was getting whiny, which only tickled you more.
From your phone, a small, familiar voice kept talking: âGo on, sit down!âÂ
Michaelâs eyes widened first in recognition, then his brows furrowed in confusion. âIs that me?â
When you didnât answer, he finally snatched the phone from you, revealing the video you had been watching. âThe Jackson Five Interview, 1970.â
On the screen, little Michael was sitting in a yellow chair almost the exact same color as his shirt, cup of orange juice next to him, flipping through a Playboy magazine.Â
âMichael, they filming you!â One of his brothers called from the background, and little Michael sheepishly snapped the magazine shut. In front of you, the look on grown-up Michaelâs face sent you from silent laughter into a full blown cackle.
âHow did you get this?!â He looked so flabbergasted that tears started to form in the corners of your eyes. âYouTube, Michael.âÂ
âWhat is Youtube?âÂ
You reached for your phone and grabbed it back, straightening up on the couch and patting the spot next to you.Â
to add onto the concept of mature! michael not knowing how to use a phone⊠how about a freaking iphone
like this man would just give up entirely tbh
of course mature! michael would never text, always callâ and when you donât answer heâs always leaving you some voicemail! and his lips would be pressed against that iphone cause he doesnât know where to talk into: âHi love, please get back to me as soon as you can. I dialed you six times now. I love you, bye.â followed by mumbling and small taps on the screen before he hangs up.
and when you text him, mature! michael would always send videos of his responding talking into the camera, glasses propped onto his nose and chin titled up like heâs still figuring the phone out.
and when does learn to type?? this man is slow as hell and uses one finger !!đđ
âjust give me the phone,â youâd tell him after watching him type one sentence with his pointer finger for the past 5 minutes.