(18+, pwp, dangerous era) 𓈒 ݁ ݂ husband!michael who loves to take you outside at neverland, setting up a cute and innocent picnic on the dewy grass just for the two of you. the night sky full of bright and glimmering stars, the both of you laying down with your fingers interlocked. but little did either of you know just how much innocent romance could spiral into a sensual situation. it was like you had blinked, and suddenly michael was on top of you, lips roaming your body.
"didn't know the stars could be such a good aphrodisiac." michael murmured between kisses. "then again, i do have the privilege of getting to be alone with the most gorgeous girl in the world.. which turns me on itself." he smiled against your skin saying those last few words, the two of you giggling in unison.
"i love you, michael." you carried his face to match in position with yours, kissing him before he could even let out a single word. michael pulled away almost instantly, leaving you with a large frown plastered on your face.
"ah ah ah, pretty. didn't even let me reply now, did we?" he leaned in a bit closer, his hot breath sliding against your lips and nostrils. "i love you more, baby," he leaned even closer, your lips practically inches away from touching. "need my girl to know how much i love her, yeah? let me treat you right, gorgeous."
and he sure kept his goddamn word. he slowly pulled down both of your bottoms—not fully off, but just enough room so he could work his magic. your jean shorts lay on your ankles, as did the slacks he decided to wear. you both pulled out the "essentials" and stared longingly into each other's eyes.
"you make me the happiest man on the planet, d'ya know that?" he cleared his throat, "if i could make love to you everyday, i would. i'd take my sweet time with you each and every time, god."
you swallowed hard, bracing yourself for what was yet to come. michael placed one more elongated kiss on your lips, breaking apart to smile at you. he looked down, positioning himself right along your slick folds.
he looked back up at your gorgeous face, watching your expression as he slowly slid himself into you, deliciously filling up your walls. your sweet smile turning into furrowed brows and a whining mouth. he loved hearing your sounds, never kissing your mouth during sex, oh no. he loved to kiss other areas such as your neck, your cheek—sometimes he would even bring up your wrist just so he could leave a nice smooch.
he held a firm grip on your waist, his lips laying on your temple as he passionately and precisely pumped in and out of you. your arms wrapped around his slim back, the fabric of his shirt feeling extra soft against your fingertips. your eyes had no area of michael to look at, so your gaze fixated on the view you two shared before this moment, the beautiful sky.
"wish we could be like this all the time..shit—your pretty pussy wrapped around me like a glove, like you were curated perfectly just for me, oh god yes." his pace of strokes increasing, sloppily and desperately groaning aloud. "fuuuck.."
your legs spread slightly more open, allowing michael to push himself deeper and further towards your core. he sped up even faster, his low groans turning into needy whines. you weren't much better either, your loud moans and squeals being shoved down michael's ear, fueling him even further to finish quickly.
michael could never last insanely long with you during romantic nights like this, but it wasn't embarrassing or disappointing. he just felt so aroused and insane about your beauty and your body, his body would just give in too fast from the pleasure.
michael's eyes began to water, a normal sign showing he was going to finish off soon. he lifted his head to stare at you once more, your pussy becoming a nervous and sensitive mess as he sped up for the last time.
"so gorgeous, so pretty. 'gonna make you a mommy one day, a stunning mommy.." he whined, his voice cracking slightly.
tears streamed down his cheeks as he pumped his cock a final time inside your pussy, coating your walls with his warm release. you came as well, your bodies almost intertwining spiritually with the mutual finish.
michael wiped his tears, kissing your lips while he pulled out slowly, your hips jerking from the sensitivity.
"you make me complete." he smiled with wet eyes, staring at your fucked-out body and expression. "i love being your husband."
god this was wayyy longer than i expected.. and sorry if it seems a bit rushed, i was trying my best to get this gem out immediately >< again, sorry for making it a bit rushed but i hope you guys enjoy! also this isn't proofread 😣
more is coming!! i happily take requests for any era! :) (keep in my mind my reader will always be black!coded!)
one-shots:
my angel face (18+) -michael had been invited to attend the Soul Train Music awards for his recent success, and of course, he brought you, his wife, as a plus one. what you didn’t know was that seeing him on that stage would get you so hot and bothered.
stuck with you -when a severe rainstorm grounds michael's private jet in London during the height of the Thriller explosion, his dedicated private secretary, you, is left frantically trying to reschedule his chaotic itinerary from their luxury hotel suite. michael, however, has other plans.
pretty boy -michael thinks he’s not as pretty as the public claims he is, but you think otherwise.
love never felt so good -to the world, he’s a king, and sometimes he feels like the crown is too heavy to wear. but when he looks at the two greatest loves of his life, he realizes that no matter how chaotic the world gets, loving you is the easiest, most natural thing he’s ever done.
off script -an interviewer tries to disrespect you, and michael’s finally had enough
from the start -you and micheal have been by each others side since you were kids. j*seph feels like you’re in the way of the family’s success so he gives you an ultimatum, can you and michael survive it?
writer’s note: i don’t really know what this is but i couldn’t just not post anything so i started writing what came to mind, trying to be as accurate as possible. i hope you like it. xo
𝒯here was something almost dangerous about the way michael loved you. not in loud dramatic shows of affection but in quiet, consuming ways that settled into every corner of his life until there was no part of him untouched by your presence. because you had been there before the fame, before the screaming crowds and impossible expectations and the endless loneliness that came with becoming michael jackson, and to him that meant something sacred.
michael views you as the only living bridge to a version of himself that wasn't a product. to him, you are the keeper of his most vulnerable memories, the sound of his real childhood laughter before the world grew loud, and this shared history creates a suffocatingly tight tether that makes him feel as though his very soul would unravel if you were to ever step out of his line of sight.
you were the only person who had stayed constant while everything else in his world shifted and disappeared, the only person who still looked at him and saw the boy from gary instead of the superstar everyone else demanded pieces from, and because of that he held onto you with an intensity that bordered on obsession, terrified somewhere deep down that if he loosened his grip for even a second the world would take you away too.
he would constantly gravitate toward you in crowded rooms without even realizing he was doing it. his hand finding the small of your back instinctively whenever someone approached you for too long, dark eyes flickering toward anyone who made you laugh a little too hard, because even after years of fame and adoration he still carried this gnawing insecurity that someone better, easier, less complicated might eventually steal your attention from him. but michael’s jealousy was never explosive or cruel to you, it was quiet, aching, almost heartbreaking in the way it manifested. the subtle withdrawal when another man complimented you, the way his smile would tighten ever so slightly while watching you talk to someone else, the clinginess afterward when he’d suddenly insist on keeping you beside him for the rest of the evening as if proximity alone could soothe the fear clawing inside his chest.
there would be nights where the pressure of everything became too much for him and he’d disappear from everyone else entirely, retreating into silence until eventually he showed up at your door like he always did, exhausted and emotionally frayed, because no matter how overwhelming the world became you were still the one place that felt safe to him. and once he was there he would barely let go of you, resting his head against your shoulder while talking softly about things he never admitted to anyone else, his voice fragile as he confessed how exhausting it was constantly wondering who truly cared about him versus what he could give them. you became the person he clung to almost desperately during those moments, the only one capable of calming the frantic loneliness inside him, and sometimes he would look at you with this unbearably intense expression like he couldn’t comprehend how someone as important as you had chosen to stay.
michael would absolutely spoil you in deeply personal ways rather than flashy ones, remembering every tiny detail you ever mentioned and treating those details like treasures because making you happy genuinely mattered more to him than almost anything else. if you casually mentioned liking a certain flower as a child, suddenly your dressing room would always have them waiting there. if you got cold easily, he’d quietly drape his jackets around your shoulders before anyone else noticed. he paid attention to you constantly, almost obsessively, because in his mind protecting your happiness became intertwined with protecting his own emotional stability.
and the protectiveness? it ran so deep it nearly consumed him sometimes. michael already distrusted most people around him because of how often he’d been used or abandoned throughout his life, but when it came to you that distrust sharpened into something fierce. he hated seeing people upset you, hated hearing anyone speak carelessly about you, and the second he sensed someone trying to take advantage of your kindness his entire demeanor shifted. normally soft-spoken and gentle, he’d suddenly become cold and unreadable in a way that unsettled people immediately, stepping closer to you protectively while making it very clear without outright saying it that you were his person and he would not tolerate anyone hurting you.
there would also be this constant underlying yearning in everything he did around you, because even with all the years you’d spent together he still craved reassurance endlessly. michael loved deeply but fear always lingered underneath it. fear of abandonment, fear of not being enough beneath the celebrity image, fear that eventually you would grow tired of carrying the emotional weight of loving someone like him. so he sought comfort in small intimate routines with you: late-night phone calls that lasted for hours because neither of you wanted to hang up, his fingers absentmindedly playing with yours while sitting beside each other in silence, the way he’d glance toward you first after finishing a performance just to see your reaction because somehow your approval mattered more than an arena full of applause.
sometimes his attachment to you became almost painfully obvious to everyone around him except himself. the way his entire mood changed depending on whether you were near him. the way he watched you when you weren’t paying attention, not even trying to hide the softness in his expression. the way he unconsciously mirrored your movements, leaned toward your voice in crowded conversations, interrupted important discussions the second you entered the room because his attention shifted automatically back to you. to michael, you weren’t simply someone he loved, you were the one constant thread tying him to the version of himself he trusted most, and the thought of losing you was frightening enough to make him hold onto you even tighter.
being with michael jackson in private would feel so vastly different from the version of him the world knew that sometimes it almost surprised you, because behind the carefully rehearsed smiles and dazzling stage presence was someone impossibly soft, clingy in ways he rarely allowed himself to be with anyone else, constantly seeking comfort in your touch like he needed the reassurance that you were still there beside him. the intimacy between you wouldn’t be loud or overly dramatic most of the time, it would exist in quiet moments that slowly became sacred to him, moments he guarded possessively because they belonged only to the two of you.
he would absolutely be the type to linger around you constantly when you were alone together, following you from room to room under the excuse of wanting company even though the truth was much simpler: he genuinely hated being apart from you for long. if you were reading, he’d end up stretched across the couch with his head in your lap while absentmindedly tracing shapes against your wrist. if you were cooking, he’d stand behind you with his arms loosely around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder just to feel close. there was always this almost aching need for physical closeness with him, not necessarily out of passion alone but because touch reassured him in ways words sometimes couldn’t.
and michael, despite all his fame and confidence onstage, would actually become incredibly vulnerable during intimate moments with you because you were one of the only people who ever saw him completely unguarded. there would be nights where the two of you stayed awake for hours talking quietly in dim lighting while he confessed fears he never admitted publicly, his voice soft and exhausted as he spoke about loneliness, pressure, childhood memories he couldn’t shake. those conversations often ended with him curled close beside you, holding onto your hand almost tightly enough to hurt because he found an overwhelming amount of comfort in knowing you were listening instead of judging and leaving.
his protectiveness would become even more obvious in private. anytime you seemed upset, even over something small, his entire attention shifted immediately toward you with this intense concern that bordered on desperation. he’d pause everything just to focus on making you feel better, brushing your hair back gently while asking over and over what was wrong, unable to relax until he was sure you were okay again. it almost felt like your happiness dictated his emotional state entirely, because when you smiled he visibly softened, but when you pulled away or seemed distant he became restless and anxious almost instantly.
jealousy would still linger in subtle ways even during your softer moments together. if someone flirted with you earlier in the day, michael would suddenly become far more affectionate afterward without consciously realizing it, keeping you tucked close against his side while talking to you in that low gentle voice that only appeared when he wanted reassurance. he wasn’t possessive in an aggressive way, but emotionally? completely. he needed to feel chosen by you constantly, needed reminders that after all the chaos in his life you still belonged beside him.
one of the most intimate things about your relationship would honestly be how much he trusted you with the parts of himself nobody else saw. the exhaustion after performances. the insecurity beneath the fame. the moments where he became quiet and withdrawn because the world felt too overwhelming. michael spent so much of his life feeling observed that being truly known by someone became incredibly important to him, and with you he never had to perform or pretend. sometimes he would simply sit beside you in comfortable silence for long stretches of time, fingers intertwined with yours, looking calmer than he ever did anywhere else because your presence alone grounded him.
and whenever the two of you were alone after particularly difficult days, he’d hold onto you like he was afraid the world might somehow pull you away overnight, pressing lingering kisses to your forehead or your hands while quietly murmuring how much you meant to him in that soft breathy voice of his. not because he was trying to be dramatic, but because deep down he genuinely couldn’t imagine surviving another abandonment from the one person who had loved him long before fame ever touched his life.
꩜ INTRO : i’ve noticed i’ve had this acc for quite some while, but i neverr made an intro, or an masters list, and since im starting to write more, make more series and oneshots, and even just a name for myself on this app, i figured i would like to properly introduce myself! hii, my name is aaliyah, but u came call me liyah, or ali ! i’m the big 18 yrs olddd andd i’ve had tumblr for awhile now, but only recently started to write any fics (thanks to michael 🥹) , and i started writing about 2-3 weeks ago!
LIKES! :
michael jackson (duh),
writing ! (duh aswell, i mean look at my acc!)
reading (not even js fanfics, gimme a good book and i’ll be satisfied)
music; michael jackson, drake (don’t cancel me💔) the weeknd, tyler the creator, kendrick lamar, summer walker, mariah the scientist, oldies, etc! (cant list them all bc we’ll be here all day💔),
tv shows: stranger things, arcane, tsitp, abbott elementary, js some of the ones i can name of the top of my head!
movies : michael biopic (ofc) , new edition biopic, atsv, itsv, spiderman movies, js the ones on the top of my head!
———
DISLIKES ! :
racist! (we don’t play ts on this acc!)
homophobia, transphobia, allat.
trump
ice
usage of ai; letting ai write ur fics
any types of bullying!
———
MORE ! :
i’m rlly open to help, NICE criticism, and request, i actually love requests smm so if u have any please don’t be shy, it can be a req to do something in the series im writing, or its own one shot, like plsss lmk, or js talk to me! Im always an open ear plssss dont be shy!! also, all my fics tend to be black coded, but can be used by anybody, due to the fact in fics, i dont rlly specify skin color, or any other features! liyah ouuttt!!
▬▬▬ ༅𖩩꙼ৡ࿔*༅ rules: I don’t write nsfw, if you don’t request a certain gender I’ll automatically write reader as a female. I can write reader having mental health issues or disabilities too. I don’t write anything to do with incest, romanticising any form of abuse, and SA. Comment under any post to be added to the taglist.
Michael Jackson:
Thriller
Summary: you’re a shy actress who’s unsuccessful, until you got a call saying you got the role as the leading lady in Michael’s short movie thriller. Quickly building a bond with Michael.
Your Type?
Your Type? P2
Summary: at a sleepover with Michael, he asks you nervously what your type is. You know exactly how to push his buttons so you describe exactly him, only to see how flustered he’d get.
A Boyfriend?
Summary: After Michael sneaks into your bed, you accidentally rejects him in your sleep by claiming you have a boyfriend. Once a jealous and hurt Michael wakes you for an explanation, you reassures him it was just a dream and ask him to stay.
First Kiss
Summary: Michael and you shared a sweet first kiss in the kitchen while baking cookies late at night.
Through Your Window
Summary: Michael climbing up to your window late at night with a movie
Kidding
Summary: Michael always flirts with you, this time you flirt back.
Notebooks
Summary: A selectively mute reader accidentally swaps communication notebooks with Michael during a late night walk.
Every Breath You Take
Summary: Michael loses the award song of the year to ‘every breath you take’ which leads him to ask reader to come over to analyse the song. It ends up causing Michael to realise his feelings towards her.
You Sketch Me?
summary: Reader is a artist, she draws Michael. Michael goes through her book and realises how reader views him.
Makeup Artist
summary: Reader is a makeup artist, she keep criticising her own work and Michael doesn’t like it.
hi i have one question. is it true that 3 / 5 of jurors in mj's trial believed he was a predator? i see often that guilters say this a lot whenever it’s brought up that mj was acquitted
No, that is not true. There are 2 jurors who flip flopped after the verdict, who both had plotted to write books with Stacy Brown (a known tabloid whore and famous guilter who was once pro Jackson until the media dollars rolled in). Their names are Eleanor (Ellie) Cook and Ray Hultman. And yet, immediately following the unanimous verdict, they all (including Hultman and Cook) gave interviews stating they did not find evidence to conclude Jackson was guilty at all, and that they thoroughly examined everything. And btw, Stacy Brown testified and was plotting books too, because sensationalism sells more, in his words.
The DAY after the verdict, Hultman AND Cook went on anti-Jackson media outlets and backed their not guilty verdicts, citing they examined ALL evidence to reach such a conclusion.
And I quote: "We sat for at least half a day to identify the lies that the accuser had told on witness stand." <- coming directly from Hultman when he appeared on Diane Dimond’s program.
Cook stated on Howard Stern’s anti Jackson radio show and I quote: "They (prosecution witnesses) would just get so far and then it'd backfire on them.” “So all the witnesses just blew up?” “That's exactly how I viewed it.”
Also, Hultman and Cook’s claims of being pressured by other jurors was contradicted by the remaining 12 plus the 8 alternates.
You can watch the full jury interviews on YouTube where Cook and Hultman are singing a different tune, because money wasn’t involved yet 🥴
Hello! I am starlightz4mj. I have been contributing to the MJ fanfic scene since February 2025. My story “Sing To Me,” which I uploaded on December 9th of last year, was plagiarized across multiple works by the following account, which was created roughly two weeks ago (they were originally @/areyouhelenamarkos. They have since changed their username two more times.):
I understand this user released an official statement on their blog addressing the situation, but they omitted the major detail that there is screenshot evidence supporting these accusations.
Please! If you engage with this account or their content, I implore you to review the evidence for yourselves, because there is a substantial amount of it, rather than blindly accepting their words as they continue to deny any wrongdoing.
I identified roughly 52 instances across three separate works involving identical plot progression/development, including major plot points occurring in relatively the same sequence as mine, along with shared themes, multiple instances of identical dialogue and key details, and scenes playing out in extreme or exact likeness to how mine did:
Plagiarism In The MJ Fanfic Community Pt. 1
I will do my best to address this pressing matter that has recently been rising in the community, while also responding to some of the comments this user has made regarding the situation. If you are willing to stay and hear my side, I deeply appreciate it, and I will do my best not to take up too much of your time.
For those of you familiar with the current situation, I want to apologize for the delay in this follow-up. This whole ordeal has been very stressful for me, and I felt it was best to take some time to better assess how to proceed in raising awareness in the broader community that this type of practice is occurring.
Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment, my disbelief and distress clouded my judgment and led me to take rash and, admittedly, impractical measures that I believed were appropriate for informing others of this incident at the time. However, I made those decisions without fully understanding Tumblr’s terms and policies. This has resulted in my main account being flagged, and it is now consequently shadowbanned.
Moving forward, I will be more mindful to approach this situation with greater delicacy and level-headedness.
Now, onto addressing the account (I will keep this as quick and concise as possible.)
These are their comments under posts from both my main and this account, some of which they have deleted, and I have highlighted the parts I wanted to primarily focus on:
The main portion I want to note on this page is another huge indicator of ai-usage (aside from the abnormal and over-occurrence of em-dashes I mentioned in a previous post. This is from the fanfic on their account titled "Okay?":
They claim to use a translation tool for their writing, as English is not their first language. I have been speaking to a couple of mutual MJ writers about the current issue of plagiarism, ai-plagiarists to be exact.
One of my mutuals, who is more active on Wattpad, has noticed a lot of ai-generated fanfics popping up on the platform. They were the one to inform me that this is a common excuse used to explain strange grammar that is often attributed not to a language barrier, but to people running others’ stories through chatgpt to rework parts of the writing before uploading it as their own.
When I first addressed this, I briskly scrolled through their page just to gauge the kind of activity and upload frequency they had. However, when I went back later to investigate further, I saw that they had about four or five fics posted. Of those, I recognized three as stolen reworks of my fanfic “Sing To Me.” So, I’ve now come to realize that this user had been primarily taking from my account.
I actually want to thank them for not taking the fics down. It allowed me to get the screenshots I needed, as well as discover that another work had also been plagiarized from mine. This is not a mere coincidence of “similar tropes and dialogue.” I encountered numerous occurrences across their works that contained the same scenes, phrasing, plot progressions, and verbal exchanges as mine, which is a blatant display of stolen ideas.
By now, as you have taken a look at the provided link above and can recognize this situation for what it truly is, it is abundantly clear the lengths this user is willing to go to in order to maintain what are obvious lies. And they did follow through on blocking me, which raises the obvious concern that they will target another account in my place.
As I mentioned before, this has been a hot topic among mutual writers in the fandom. In fact, I went to get advice from an account on here that recently had the same thing happen to them. This creator has been active in the Tumblr MJ scene for even longer than I have, and I was greatly disheartened to learn that their work, which I deeply admire, was not the only one to have been plagiarized, but that I was already the fourth MJ account they had heard this happened to.
Not only is this a major demotivator for fanfiction authors who work hard to give you all content to enjoy, it sows distrust and skepticism in a recreational activity we, as readers and writers, use to build connections, form friendships, and create a joyful, friendly, and thriving online community.
If you can see how harmful this behavior is to the fandom experience, and value the time, passion, and effort writers dedicate to creating stories free of charge for all of us to indulge, then please consider helping to protect this creative space. Like, reblog, and share this message wherever you can to help raise awareness so authors can better safeguard their work against potential misuse, and readers can be better equipped to recognize plagiarism if they ever come across it.
I want to make it very clear that it is NOT okay to message or leave comments harassing this user, and I strongly advise against doing so. Simply sharing this post in any way you can is sufficient.
If you’ve made it this far, I sincerely thank you for sticking around this long, and I hope that my message resonates with you.
synopsis: childhoodbsf!mj and reader in a hot tub... what can go wrong? (or right :D)
cw: smut, switch!michael, hot tub sex, dry humping, dirty talk, praise, tensionnn, mutual pining, michael jackson being a whimperer (surprise), creampie
based off bad!era mj but any era works (i think)
the hot tub lights cast soft blue ripples across the water, reflecting against the stone around the edge of the patio. the early summer night air brushed against your damp skin coolly in contrast to the heat of the water, while music drifted faintly from somewhere inside the house. overhead, the sky was dark and cloudless, a soft breeze moving through the otherwise still night.
michael leaned back nearby with his arms resting along the edge of the hot tub, curls damp around his face, while he watched you with obvious amusement.
“you know,” he said casually, brushing wet curls back from his forehead, “for somebody always talkin’ big, you scare real easy.”
you looked over immediately. “i do not.”
michael laughed softly under his breath.
you’d known michael long enough to recognize that exact look in his eyes before he even said anything else. the one that usually meant he was about to annoy you on purpose.
the two of you had been attached at the hip since childhood. your families blurred together so often growing up that half your memories included michael somewhere in the background of them — sitting beside you at family parties, showing up to your house unannounced (and vice versa), dragging you outside in the middle of summer evenings because he was bored and wanted company. somewhere along the way, physical closeness had stopped meaning much between you years ago.
hugs.
leaning against each other.
holding hands.
cuddling while watching movies.
being close to michael had never required thought.
leaves rustled softly in the night breeze.
michael’s eyes suddenly shifted past your shoulder.
the teasing look on his face faltered, his mouth flattening slightly as his attention fixed on something behind you.
“…wait.”
you narrowed your eyes at that. “michael.”
“no, seriously.” his brows furrowed now while he stared harder behind you. “what is that?”
you rolled your eyes.
“i hate you.”
“i’m serious,” he insisted, though the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “right there.”
you turned your head despite yourself.
your eyes scanned once. twice. nothing.
you started turning back toward him with an unimpressed look already forming–
michael lunged forward suddenly with both his hands toward the water behind you.
a startled squeal escaped you as you grabbed onto him on pure reflex, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders while you nearly climbed halfway up him in a panic.
michael burst into loud laughter. bright and boyish.
“oh my god!” you gasped out, still clutching him while he laughed harder against your shoulder. “you are actually evil.”
“it was funny!” he argued through laughter.
“it was not funny!”
you smacked his shoulder lightly, trying not to laugh and failing miserably once his laughter got worse.
michael’s laughter had always been contagious. it was impossible to stay mad at him for long when he was laughing like that.
“yes it was,” he grinned. “you should’ve seen your face.”
“you practically climbed into my lap,” he added.
“i trusted you!”
“that’s your own fault.”
“oh my god, shut up.”
another laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
michael pointed at you instantly.
“see? you’re laughin’ now.”
you groaned dramatically, letting your forehead fall briefly against his shoulder while his laughter softened into quieter little giggles beneath his breath.
eventually, both your breaths started to settle.
except neither of you moved apart.
your arms still rested loosely around his shoulders. michael’s hands still held your waist below the surface.
comfortable. normal.
well, it should’ve felt normal.
instead, the silence that settled between you suddenly felt…heavy somehow.
different.
your forehead still rested lightly against michael’s shoulder while the water moved softly around you both, rippling between your bodies.
neither of you spoke.
you could feel michael breathing now.
not just the movement of his chest beneath your hands, but the actual rhythm of it. slow at first, then slightly uneven when you shifted subconsciously closer.
his hands tightened around your waist. small. almost unnoticeable.
except you noticed it immediately.
your brows pulled together faintly.
slowly, you lifted your head from his shoulder.
michael was already looking at you.
the patio lights reflected faintly in his eyes while water dripped from the curls hanging around his forehead. his expression had gone strangely still now, his hands warm where they rested against your waist.
neither of you moved apart.
you’re not sure why.
usually moments like this broke naturally on their own. one of you would laugh. tease the other. splash water. say something stupid.
instead, michael just kept looking at you.
your eyes flicked down toward his mouth before you could stop yourself.
bad idea.
because the second your gaze dropped, michael noticed. his brows pinched for a fraction of a second.
then, before you could really process it, michael looked away first.
his jaw flexed.
you felt his throat move against your arm when he swallowed.
“…christ,” he muttered quietly under his breath.
heat crawled slowly up your neck. you swallowed once before forcing out, “what?”
michael shook his head once, almost like he was trying to clear it.
“nothin’.”
his voice sounded lower now. rougher.
the water shifted softly around you both when you adjusted yourself, your legs brushing against his–
michael inhaled sharply.
the sound froze you.
oh.
your heartbeat stumbled hard in your chest.
because suddenly you could feel it too.
the reaction pressed unmistakably against your thigh.
heat rushed instantly to your face.
michael went still beneath your hands.
for a second, neither of you said anything.
michael laughed quietly under his breath, though it sounded more embarrassed than amused now. one hand came up to cover his face as he looked away.
“….m’sorry,” he murmured.
your brows pulled together slightly.
of course he was apologizing. that was so michael.
when he’s struggling to keep himself composed, he still sounded more concerned about crossing a line than anything else.
you'd be lying if you said his reaction to you wasn't turning you on.
“….don’t apologize,” you breathed.
michael looked at you. his curls hung damp against his forehead now, water dripping slowly down the side of his neck while his hands stayed fixed carefully at your waist like he didn’t trust himself to move them anywhere else.
he looked away again, exhaling sharply through his nose, almost like a disbelieving laugh at himself.
“just... give me a second,” he murmured. "it'll go away."
michael took slow, controlled breaths like he was genuinely trying to calm himself down.
then before you could overthink it, the words slipped out softly.
“….do you want me to help you?”
michael’s eyes shut briefly while a quiet breath escaped him, almost strained. unfortunately for him, the boner he'd been trying so hard to kill came back tenfold.
one of his hands slid higher instinctively along your waist before stopping there hard enough to make your pulse jump.
“i—”
he cut himself off.
his head tipped back slightly instead, exposing the long line of his throat while he stared up toward the sky for a second like he was physically trying to pull himself together.
it only made him look worse.
or better.
no definitely better.
water glided slowly down the column of his neck while his chest rose unevenly beneath your hands.
finally, michael looked back at you again. wrecked.
he swallowed once before replying quietly, “you don’t have to do anything.”
your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.
“i know,” you whispered.
“i’m asking if you want me to.”
for a second, michael just stared at you.
then slowly, his forehead dropped forward until it rested gently against your temple.
his eyes closed.
his lashes brushed softly against your skin.
the flush along his neck had darkened now, spreading toward his jaw while his breathing stayed uneven against you.
when he finally spoke, his voice came out rough and quiet.
“…i’m a gentleman.”
your chest tightened at the sound of it.
the words seemed to hang between you for a moment.
slowly, you lifted one hand from his shoulder, cradling his face gently until he looked at you again.
his eyes were dark now.
unfocused almost.
still trying so hard to hold himself together for you.
your thumb brushed lightly against his cheek before you leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth.
michael inhaled sharply, head tilting instinctively to chase your lips.
then he was kissing you properly.
one hand slid up the side of your neck as he pulled you closer, the kiss hard and messy, like he’d been trying not to do this for far too long.
your noses bumped awkwardly together between breaths, both of you laughing softly into the kiss before it melted right back into something hotter.
michael bit gently at your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth.
a soft sound escaped you before you kissed him again.
his hand dragged back down your body until it settled low on your waist, fingers spreading carefully just above your ass.
careful and still hesitant. you could feel it.
your hands slid down his arms slowly until they covered his, guiding them lower.
michael broke the kiss at that.
the sound you let slip when his hands finally squeezed your ass made his head drop against yours.
“you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered breathlessly.
you pushed your hips closer against his.
michael let out a shaky breath as your hands slid up the back of his neck, fingers catching slightly at the damp curls near his nape.
when he kissed you again, it felt almost desperate now.
like he physically couldn’t stop himself for more than a few seconds at a time. his nose bumped softly against yours between kisses while his hands tightened around your body, guiding you higher on his lap beneath the bubbling water.
the pressure of his hips against yours pulled a gasp from your throat.
your fingers tightened instinctively at the base of his curls as you broke away from the kiss for air.
“michael—”
he kissed the corner of your mouth before you could finish saying his name, breathing hard enough now that you could feel it against your skin.
“i know, baby, i know” he murmured softly.
you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. he smelled like chlorine and the faint traces of his cologne, warm amber and soft florals mixing with the heat of his damp skin.
michael’s hands guided your hips against his beneath the water, the movement slow at first before his restraint started slipping little by little.
soft sounds escaped you against his neck while michael’s breathing turned rough near your ear, his grip tightening every time you pressed closer to him.
“baby…” he breathed, almost strained now.
the name sent warmth blooming low in your stomach.
this was the first time he’d ever called you that, and you loved the way it sounded coming from him.
his groans started mixing with the breathier moans spilling from your lips as his hands squeezed more firmly at your backside, the bubbling water sloshing harder around you both as he buried his face against your shoulder.
every slow drag of your hips only made the ache low in your stomach worse.
but it still wasn’t enough.
you needed more of him.
“want more,” you whined softly against his neck.
michael’s hips stuttered against yours at the sound of your voice, a quiet groan escaping him.
“yeah?” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at you properly.
strands of damp hair clung messily near your cheeks while your lips looked swollen from kissing, slightly parted every time another shaky breath slipped out of you. your eyes were glossed over.
you looked completely ruined.
just for him.
“i’ll give my sweet girl whatever she wants,” he said lowly, with a rasp slipping into his voice.
something about hearing him say it made your thighs press tighter around him. if michael noticed, he didn't mention it.
“anything she asks for.” he added.
“anything?” you responded in a whisper.
michael’s eyes stayed fixated on yours for a second before he repeated it quieter this time.
“anything.”
your stomach tightened hard at the sound of that.
“want you inside me,” you whispered sweetly, your hips pressing against his again at the thought of him giving it to you.
michael bit down on his lip, a crooked smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
you sounded so desperate for him.
and god was he just as desperate for you.
maybe worse.
even now, with your body pressed against his and his restraint hanging by a thread, he still tried to collect himself before he spoke again.
because he was a gentleman.
or at least he was trying very hard to be one.
“go on, take what you want,” he murmured roughly.
your hands immediately reached for the waistband of his swim shorts, tugging them down enough to free his dick.
though you couldn't see much through the bubbling water, you felt him. his warmth, his thickness, his length.
the weight of him against your hand alone made your breath catch.
michael groaned softly under his breath, his head falling briefly against your shoulder while his hands tightened instinctively along your thighs.
you shifted carefully onto your knees to give him room while he pulled your swim bottoms aside.
the feeling of him brushing against your bare pussy made you arch into him.
“fuck…” michael hissed quietly, breathing turned heavier near your ear as his hands slid lower along your thighs to steady you.
your face buried closer into the crook of his neck while another broken sound escaped you.
“michael…” your voice cracked softly.
the slow push of his tip alone already had your head spinning. he barely gave you room to breathe.
“fuuck, baby,” he groaned into your shoulder, dragging the words out low and strained. “you’re so fucking tight.”
you nuzzled closer into his neck with a shaky whimper.
“s’too big, michael…” you hiccuped softly.
you were ruining him.
the way your voice broke at just the tip being inside you was doing something dangerous to his self-control.
“shh, it’s okay, baby,” he murmured gently, one hand stroking your damp hair.
his other hand slid lower against your thigh before tightening carefully at your hip.
"tell me if it hurts," he murmured, lips brushing softly against your temple.
then he started easing you down onto him properly.
slow.
your mouth dropped open at the stretch as he lowered you inch by inch, his grip firm enough to guide you while still giving you time to adjust. every small movement made another uneven breath leave your lips.
the heat of the water around you only made everything feel more overwhelming. his cock felt impossibly warm inside you, thick enough that each inch made your body tense before slowly relaxing around him.
michael’s forehead pressed against yours as he watched every reaction on your face.
“that’s it,” he whispered hoarsely. “doin’ so good for me.”
another inch.
your fingers tightened against his shoulders, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it.
his own breathing was wrecked, rough against your skin while his hands trembled slightly where they held you.
like he was using every bit of control he had not to lose patience and pull you down all at once.
instead, he kept guiding you carefully.
letting you feel every inch.
the stretch burned for a second before melting into warmth, your body slowly yielding around him while soft broken whimpers left your throat.
“fuck,” michael groaned quietly, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “you feel so fucking good.”
you buried your face deeper into his neck as another wave of fullness hit you.
then finally your hips settled flush against his.
both of you gasped at the same time.
michael’s head fell back against the edge of the tub with a low groan while his hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks.
“holy shit…” he breathed.
you could barely think.
he felt everywhere. warm and deep and overwhelming, filling you so completely that all you could do was sit there for a second trying to breathe through it.
his hands softened again, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your hips.
“you okay?” he asked quietly, though his voice still sounded wrecked.
you nodded weakly against him.
“mhm…”
a small smile pulled at michael’s lips before he kissed the side of your head gently.
“good girl.”
you almost sobbed at the praise. his voice alone could make you cum.
michael stayed there for a second, just holding you against him while both of you tried to recover from the feeling.
his chest rose against yours, shaky breaths fanning across your skin while his hands stayed fixed carefully at your hips like he still couldn’t believe this was real.
then slowly, he rolled his hips upward once.
the movement was shallow.
experimental.
but the drag of him inside you still pulled a broken moan straight from your throat.
michael actually whimpered at that, the sound muffled against your skin, before a strained groan followed right after.
“fuck…”
his grip tightened.
“that okay?” he asked quietly, his own voice already sounding completely gone.
you nodded quickly before he’d even fully finished asking.
“please,” you whispered.
his mouth crashed against yours again while his hips rolled into you harder this time, deeper, the movement making the water slosh violently around both of you until it spilled over the edge of the hot tub, soaking the concrete.
your fingers tangled tighter into the damp curls at the back of his neck as he kept rocking you against him slowly, every thrust deep enough to make your stomach tighten.
he couldn’t seem to stop kissing you between breaths.
messy kisses.
desperate ones.
little broken sounds slipping from his mouth every single time you clenched around him.
“you feel so fucking good,” he breathed shakily. “christ, baby…”
his restraint kept slipping in pieces.
each movement growing rougher than the last, your body meeting his like you both couldn't stop chasing the feeling.
you moaned again. soft and breathless right against his mouth.
“yeah?” he rasped. “that feel good?”
you could barely answer — or could barely hear him, to be honest.
the way he was making you feel left your head completely fuzzy. every deep drag of him inside you made your thoughts melt together until all you could focus on was him.
when you didn’t respond, he tugged you down harder onto him.
a high moan tore from your throat instantly. a sound you would’ve never thought you’d be capable of making.
and if michael wasn’t fucking you so good, you probably would’ve been embarrassed by it.
he pulled back just enough to look at your face, watching your expression.
“tell me.”
it didn't sound demanding.
if anything, it sounded like something he needed to hear.
“y-yes–” you gasped helplessly. “yes, yes, feels so good–”
he leaned closer to your neck and started kissing, sucking, biting, leaving marks all over your neck.
michael cursed softly under his breath at the feeling of you clenching around him.
“shit, baby… you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”
all you could do was moan as he dragged your hips down onto him through another deep thrust that made your entire body jolt.
the praise only made the heat low in your stomach tighten harder.
another soft whine slipped from your throat before you could stop it, your face burying deeper into his neck out of instinct.
michael groaned at the sound.
“those sexy fucking sounds…”
his hips rolled up into yours again, harder this time, and your grip on him tightened hard enough to sting.
one of his hands slid up your body, long slender fingers brushing teasingly against your chest before nudging your swimsuit top up just enough for your breasts to spill out. the cooler night air nipping at your damp skin.
"so perfect." he breathed.
he leaned in, his mouth closing around your left nipple with a slow, warm suck that pulled a breath from your lungs. at the same time, the knuckles of his other hand dragged against your stomach, your ribs, the underside of your breasts, teasing every inch of sensitive skin on the way up. he cupped your breast, squeezing gently before rolling your nipple between his fingers in time with the slow pull of his mouth.
every suck, every soft bite, every flick of his tongue had your body arching into him.
you couldn’t hold the sounds back anymore.
every thrust of his hips pulled another sound out of you.
little whimpers.
broken moans.
breathy gasps right against his ear.
“fuck,” he groaned softly into your skin, almost dazed. “keep makin’ those sounds for me, baby.”
you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.
his mouth shifted to your other breast with a worn groan while his hand slipped lower between your bodies.
the second his thumb brushed against your clit, your entire body jerked in his arms.
“oh my god—”
the cry that left you was loud enough to echo slightly off the stone around the hot tub.
“mm, that it?” he rasped, thumb circling you again with shaky desperation. “that what you needed, baby?”
you nodded helplessly against him, barely able to breathe properly now.
the feeling of him thrusting up into you while his thumb rubbed slow, messy circles against your clit was too much all at once.
your thighs started trembling around his waist.
“michael, please.”
“i know,” he breathed quickly. “i got you. i got you.”
he kept thrusting into you deep and slow, but the rhythm was getting sloppier every second. like he physically couldn’t focus anymore with the way you kept whining against him.
“fuck…” he groaned softly. “you’re so sensitive.”
another moan tore out of you when his thumb pressed a little harder.
every little movement pulled another noise from your throat.
your eyes kept fluttering closed from the overwhelming sensation while michael watched your face completely unravel for him, his own expression looking just as gone.
“look at me, baby. c’mon,” he breathed softly.
your eyes fluttered back toward him.
the second michael saw the tears gathering along your lashes from how overwhelming everything felt, something in him completely snapped.
“fuck—”
his forehead dropped against yours with a groan so deep it almost sounded painful.
his thrusts lost what little rhythm they had left after that.
harder now.
messier.
his hands gripping your hips almost desperately while he kept kissing you between breaths like he couldn’t get enough.
“close?” he rasped against your mouth.
all you could do was nod frantically.
your fingers clutched desperately at his shoulders as another wave hit you.
it was too much.
his mouth on your neck.
his thumb rubbing against you perfectly.
the way he kept filling you so deep every time his hips snapped upward.
your thighs started shaking hard around his waist.
“i-i’m gonna–”
“lemme feel it, baby,” michael interrupted, voice breaking. he sounded completely gone. "please..."
a soft curse slipped from him the second your body tightened around him.
“that’s it,” he groaned. “good girl… fuck, that’s it.”
his thumb moved faster.
messier now.
like he was getting desperate too.
the pressure finally snapped.
your whole body jolted against him with a broken cry, your face burying into his shoulder while your body tightened hard around him, nails scratching at his back.
michael groaned loudly at the feeling, his hips stuttering completely for a second.
“shit–”
your vision blurred from how overwhelming it felt, soft little sobs and moans getting caught in your throat while wave after wave kept hitting you.
michael fucked you through all of it, one arm wrapped tightly around your back while his forehead pressed against your shoulder.
“fuck…” he groaned shakily. “atta girl.”
then quieter, almost like the words slipped out accidentally.
“been wantin’ this so bad.”
you clenched around him hard at the confession.
michael groaned hard, head tipping back against the edge of the hot tub.
his lips brushed against your jaw when he looked back at you again, expression completely wrecked.
“you don’t even realize what you do to me sometimes,” he breathed shakily.
“been tryin’ so hard to be good.”
another deep thrust made your breath catch.
“every time you bend over during those stupid twister games…” he groaned softly. “or prance around in those tiny little swimsuits…”
“honestly so mean of you.”
another broken groan slipped from him right after, his face burying deeper into your neck like he was trying to hide there.
little strained sounds kept leaving him every few seconds while his hips lost what little rhythm they had left.
“can’t—” he choked out softly. “fuck, baby…”
his grip tightened almost painfully at your hips before he finally buried himself deep inside you with a whine, warm spurts of cum filling you as his whole body went tense against yours.
you could feel him shaking slightly while he held you close, breathing unevenly against your skin as the water settled softly around both of you again.
the aftershocks rolled softly through both of you, fading little by little into soft tremors.
the world around you felt silent except for the sounds of bubbling water and uneven breathing.
slowly, you pulled back just enough to look at him properly again, your arms still resting loosely around his shoulders.
his curls were a mess.
lips swollen.
flushed all the way down his neck.
and the completely blissed-out look on his face made something warm burst in your chest.
the second michael noticed you staring, a breathless laugh slipped from him, his teeth catching briefly against his bottom lip when his grin widened.
you laughed too.
because somehow, even after all of that, the two of you still ended up the same way you always did.
still just you and michael.
───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───
ummm i didnt know how to end it butttt SECOND FICCCCC r we getting somewhere guys
also pls dont acc have sex in hot tubs or pools😭😭 (as hot as it is</3)
im sorry but WHY THERE GOTTA BE ANOTHER DOCUMENTARY ABT THE ALLEGATIONS MAN, WHY CANT THERE EVER BE A DOC ABOUT HIS ART AND HIS PROCESS AND HOW HE CAME TO BE AND ALL OF HIS HARDSHIPS AND STRUGGLES. like omg, hes a successful black man who started his music before the civil rights movement even ended, who has went through hell and back, and the only thing companies like netflix like to talk about and focus on are the allegations.
summary: a nightmare about michael's future leaves you clinging to him in the middle of the night while he comforts you.
a/n: hiiii y’all, i’ve been on tumblr for a while now but i only recently decided to start posting so this is my first time ever. blame tiktok, my fyp did NOT have to hit me with so many sad mj edits cause now i wrote this as a coping mechanism :(
the sleepovers at hayvenhurst always started by accident. one movie would turn into a film marathon and one conversation would turn into hours of talking neither of you ever wanted to end.
you and michael would cozily curl up at the ends of the his bed while rain tapped softly against the windows and the rest of the house sat in perfect silence around you.
michael would talk sleepily about music and dreams and memories while his curls fell messily into his eyes, his voice growing softer and slower the closer he got to sleep. the comfort you’d feel listening to him as you slowly drifted off beside him was the kind of peace that made you wish time would stop moving.
and maybe that was why the nightmare hurt that much.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜..・
the dream started softly, as you saw michael standing impossibly far away from you. he looked older and tired in a way you never saw the twenty-five-year-old michael laying beside you be, like the world had slowly worn him down piece by piece.
people screamed for him, but there was something peculiarly strange about their screams. it sounded wrong. it was far away from the love and admiration you'd hear whenever his fans greeted him. instead, those screams sounded like consumption. like they wanted pieces of him, wanted to take and take until there was nothing left beneath their hands. and michael, your sweet gentle michael, just kept giving, giving and giving until there was almost nothing left of him at all.
the dream shifted violently afterward. all you could see was flashes of newspaper headlines. all you could hear were cruel voices telling lies, repeating them over and over until they became louder than the truth itself. people using his softness against him and twisting his loneliness into something they could profit off of.
you saw him sitting alone in empty rooms and hiding behind dark sunglasses. you saw him surrounded by people that would eventually end up calling him names, mocking him and misunderstanding him in ways that broke your heart.
michael's once loving and alive eyes kept looking emptier and emptier, like every betrayal carved something out of him slowly over time.
he then looked directly at you. a soft, little smile appeared on his face. it was the same smile he always gave you whenever he was trying to protect you from worrying about him.
then came the feeling of loss. all you could feel was loss overwhelming your body and ripping straight through your chest, so sharp and suffocating it almost felt real. and no matter how much you'd look for him, no matter how desperately you called out for him, he wasn't there.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜..・
you woke up gasping, your heart pounding violently against your ribs. for a few seconds you genuinely did not know where you were. the dream still felt real in a way that clung to your skin, so vivid you could still feel the loneliness, the cruelty and the loss lingering inside you.
your breathing became uneven as you pushed upright fast beneath the blankets. your chest was heaving while tears burned painfully behind your eyes.
across the room, michael stirred sleepily at the sound. you pressed your hands hard against your face, trying desperately to ground yourself back in reality. michael shifted again beneath the blankets in the darkness when his sleepy voice drifted softly through the room.
“…hey”
hearing his voice made your chest crack open before you could stop yourself, a shaky broken sound escaping your throat.
michael sat up immediately after that, suddenly awake. “hey, hey, what happened?”
you could not answer, because now all you could think about was michael sitting alone somewhere in the future, looking unbearably sad while the world destroyed him piece by piece.
michael reached you within seconds in the darkness. and the second his hands touched your arm, you grabbed him hard like you were terrified he would disappear.
“whoa,” he whispered softly, voice still thick with sleep. “what’s wrong?”
your breathing sounded broken and panicked as you clutched desperately at his shirt in the darkness. “don’t let anything happen to you.”
michael blinked in confusion. “what?”
tears spilled down your face before you even realized you were crying. “please. i don’t want anything bad happening to you.” your voice cracked on the last word.
michael moved immediately, wrapping both arms carefully around you while pulling you close against his chest. “hey,” he whispered gently, his hand smoothing against your back. “talk to me.”
you shook your head hard against him. “it felt so real. the dream…”
michael brushed one hand carefully through your hair while the other rubbed soothing circles against your back. “what dream, sweetheart?”
you buried your face desperately against the crook of his neck. “they were hurting you." michael's brows furrowed softly as his chest tightened painfully. you clung tighter to him. “i don’t want you getting hurt.”
michael pulled back slightly, trying to see your face in the darkness. “nothing’s gonna happen to me.”
“but what if it does?” the desperation in your voice nearly broke him. “what if people are cruel to you? what if they misunderstand you? what if you get lonely?”
michael just stared at you silently for a moment. something about those fears hit him strangely deep because you were describing things he already quietly feared himself. he swallowed softly then carefully cupped your face in both hands. “look at me.”
you barely opened your eyes and his chest physically ached seeing you like this, seeing you cry over the mere thought of him hurting someday. “you had a nightmare.”
“no michael, it felt real.” your voice broke again. “i saw people hurting you and i couldn’t stop it…”
a tear slipped down your cheek. michael wiped it away instantly with his thumb like he couldn’t bear seeing it there. “listen to me,” he whispered softly against your hair. “i’m okay. i’m here right now. and you’re here too.”
“promise me you’ll be careful. please, michael.”
his arms tightened around you immediately, almost protectively. “i promise.”
“promise me you won’t let people use you.”
something crossed michael’s face, something small and sad and almost impossible to catch. because deep inside, he already knew he let people use him sometimes.
“i’ll be careful,” he whispered softly.
“you mean it?”
“mhm.” he reached up carefully, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead. “you know what i think?” he whispered.
you shook your head weakly.
“as long as you’re beside me,” he continued, “i’ll always be okay.”
michael held you while sobs shook through your chest harder than before. “i got you,” he whispered against your hair. “you’re okay, we’re okay. nothing’s gonna take me away from you.”
michael guided you both back down against the pillows afterward without ever letting go of you. somehow you ended up fully curled against his chest beneath the blankets, but neither of you mentioned how intimate this felt, nor the way your legs tangled unconsciously together, how his hand stayed buried in your hair or how you could feel michael’s heartbeat beneath your cheek.
michael kept rubbing slow circles against your back while your breathing gradually calmed. every few minutes his fingers would softly brush through your hair like he needed to reassure himself you were still there too. he pressed another kiss gently into your hair.
your voice came out tiny afterward. “can you hold me tighter?”
without hesitation he pulled you even closer until your body practically molded against his, until there wasn’t an inch of space left between either of you.
“better?”
you nodded weakly. “mhm.”
a small smile tugged softly at michael’s lips when he felt you finally relaxing against him.
“there’s my girl. you’re really cute when you’re all worried about me.”
“shut up.” you suppressed a smile, hiding your face in his chest.
“mhm, too emotional for compliments, are we?”
that instantly made you chuckle quietly through the your tears, burying your face even more against him.
“there she is,” michael whispered softly, genuinely relieved to hear you laugh again.
eventually exhaustion began pulling at both of you. you could feel michael getting sleepier beneath you, his breathing slowing while his fingers lazily traced comforting patterns against your back. but every single time you shifted even slightly, his arms tightened instinctively around you in his sleep.
his touch filled your chest with relief somehow, because it reminded you that your michael was still here. warm, sweet, alive and safe in your arms.
Precis- You thought leaving Michael behind was the best decision you could make. Unbeknownst to both of you, your separation was never accidental. What happens when you both become stars and meet with old wounds and pent up emotions.
Authors Note: Written with Bad/Early Dangerous era in mind, but any era works. Myb for the hiatus...
That was the last thing you had heard from Michaels publicist, or at least you think it was. Her tone so sincere and sweet, but the words lacked that same sweetness. All words seemed to jumble together after hearing, "you're holding him back more than you realize…” like a ringing in your ear. Of course you didn't want to believe that but at the time, Michael was just starting his solo career. Everybody knew he had something special about him and that without a doubt he'd make it big.
Especially you.
You had been there long before the headlines, before the screaming crowds grew impossible to hear over, before everybody suddenly wanted a piece of him. You met Michael Jackson through your uncle, who worked around the studio and occasionally helped manage sessions for the brothers. Meanwhile you helped get everybody comfortable and accommodated, like a mini manager per say. Furthermore, somewhere between long rehearsals and late-night recordings, Michael had started looking for you first whenever he walked into a room.
Being similar in age, you and Michael eventually grew close, he was calming to be around and in turn, you were there as a reminder that he was young in his fast paced life. Whether it was the studio, the family estate, or just walking down the boulevard, you were always there. Attached at the hip. Maybe that’s why it confused him so much when you suddenly left. Right when he was going to release Off The Wall, the moment he wanted you there the most for.
To be fair, you never wanted it to end like that. It was always in your head to eventually tell Michael how much he mattered to you. Unfortunately, others saw your closeness as an obstacle.
“Michael can't be seen with a woman this early into his career, it'll ruin the facade!”
“You don't really think y’guys will continue to be buddy buddy after he gets out there, do you?”
“I mean- c'mon- you're you, and he’s, y’know…”
Despite all this, you stayed. It got to you, of course it did, but you had known Michael for years. You were the same girl who he would sneak off with to the local park and mess around with while still being able to open up about life. You weren't going to be scared off by those who had no idea of your relationship or Michael himself. At least that’s what you thought until you finally got a glimpse of it yourself. The team started telling you less, when you would drop by all of a sudden Michael either wasn't there or was “busy”, and seeing interviews of him and his brothers up on the big screen, meanwhile, you were in the same place.
What did you have to offer? You were just a girl who was seen following Michael around like a dog, somebody who happened to get lucky because of her uncle. Nobody known. You were probably only there as convenience anyway, being one of his only friends because you were in proximity, nothing more. Once he meets others, would you be forgotten?
Insecurity slowly settled and you began losing hope. You couldn't help but feel as though you couldn't confide in him. Not only because you couldn’t reach him but also at the risk of unveiling how you truly felt for him. After months of your spirit being torn down, that image of you and him began to look blurry. Leaving it best to keep more of your space, never noticing how the lack of presence affected him.
The final nail in the coffin was over hearing him and his brothers in the studio at the end of a session. With the mindset of, now or never, blaring in you, you had finally planned to open up to Michael about everything and were just about to open the door– “Did you see all those girls man? Practically jumped on us!” You paused at the sound of one of his brothers.
“The one with the low cut top was about to get it if you hadn't talked to her first–”
“Don’t be mad she wanted a brother like me,” They bickered back and forth, “What about you, Mike? Y’know they were showing you all types of stuff over there,” All cackling away, you stopped reaching for the handle by then, “Don’t tell me you too good to look or touch, we’ve all took some back every once and a while” One of them teased, “Or are they just not pretty enough for ya?”
“‘Course not Randy, they're all attractive,” Michael softly exclaimed, feeling all eyes on him now.
“So what's the problem? I saw you staring at the one with short hair” One of them playfully said “Let loose a little, don’t act like you haven’t all of a sudden,” You were never one to probe within Michael's love life but based on what you had seen, Michael was one of the only brothers who never participated in such acts and was the most respectful even. It gave you closure to know that you potentially had a chance. Again, potentially.
“Like when you danced with that stacked girl for nearly an hour!”
“Or like when you kept sneakin’ away to talk to that hussy after shows…” Tito piped
It was then insecurity settled deep, you weren't famous, you weren't out there like those girls, nor did you think you had anything special. Being a constant in Michael's life now seemed harder to visualize. Just like when you were younger, he was always moving, meanwhile you were always exactly where you were left. He would only get bigger. Did you even have anything going for you? Being so lost in this fantasy of “young love”, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to be something.
It was then you turned back, deciding it would be best to set your own path in life. Think of your future more thoroughly. Not in the shadows, not waiting for an opportunity, One potentially without Michael. You had walked away before ever hearing him out.
“You guys always makin’ things somethin’ they’re not…” Michael muttered, “You know we were rehearsing for fun while everyone else partied, and that other girl was givin’ me advice about songwriting,” Michael quickly clarified, “Never saw ‘em that way,”
“Yeah whatever, should've known that one…” They all looked at Jackie knowingly except Michael, “Cause he too busy diggin’ that other fine chick that comes around here,” Jackie half heartedly joked while playfully punching him and rough housing him.
“Stop messing-”
“Don’t worry, we respect you for keeping your priorities straight!” Marlon raised his hands in defense, “You’ll get that girl in no time,” Michael didn’t bother arguing against his brothers after that, after all they weren’t wrong. He held you far dearer to his heart than anyone realized. Always getting flustered and nervous around you despite his onstage persona. It didn’t matter how pretty or how well known somebody was to him, they weren't you. Always treating him like any other. Normal. No cameras. No screaming crowds. Human.
But even then, you knew you couldn’t leave without saying something. After all those years spent beside Michael, disappearing quietly felt wrong.
“I know this is a bit of a surprise but I hope this finds you well and just wanted to let you know I wanna explore a little, find myself a bit more. I've spent the best years of my life with you Mike and I know you'll reach your dreams. I'll be here to talk if you ever need me! Promise!
Xoxo,
xxx-xxx-xxxx”
You left the note tucked beneath the sleeve of his jacket hanging back at the studio, exhaling shakily before slipping out the backstage door. You felt comfortable enough to leave with the thought that he would contact you if ever needed, or more so cared.
You never noticed the second pair of eyes lingering near the hallway entrance.
You should've known to be more cautious. You should've known when that woman touched your shoulder too softly. You should've known that the same publicist who claimed to have a good eye out for you didn’t want you there at all. Maybe it's why years later, it stuck with him how you could leave without a word.
He could remember the thoughts running through his mind when days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and then years without a trace of you. Spending the first few always asking for you, in his limited spare time, visiting places you both had gone to. Feeling, somehow, abandoned and an endless feeling of grief for years to come. Always fantasizing how you would've reacted when he accomplished something he was proud of. How you would've stayed during those nights he felt the lowest. It didn't matter where he went, it wasn’t the same without your proximity. And maybe that's why when he saw you on that big screen he froze. Not knowing if it was awe or confusion. Reminiscing those same moments from what felt like life times ago, once more. You spent years searching for a purpose, ambition, and he could see it.
Only a couple months before he released Bad, you got your big hit role. While you did find purpose, you couldn’t help that little voice in the back that constantly yelled, he never cared. For the first few months after deciding to “find your path” you waited. Every day you expected a call. A message. Something that would prove you weren’t as easily forgotten as you feared. But nothing came. Not from Michael, not from anyone. After what felt like half a year, you decided to leave the state entirely. No man came close to replacing what you had with Michael, it’s why it still hurts to know he never tried to reach out.
Even more so that you saw and heard him everywhere you went.
“God you're going to love this role,’’ your agent came bursting you out of your thoughts, “they offered to pay three hundred and ten for every five hours, not even counting the paid rehearsal,” she said damn near more excited than you.
You began glossing your lips attempting to mask productivity, “They must be really desperate if they're offering that much– what role is this for again?” you said finally turning to her from your vanity, “Because I’m not getting nude for anything–”
“Oh you– I’d never agree to have you do that!” she rushed towards you, “But i honestly can't tell you much either. They personally requested you. It's just some short film, barely even a full script description,” You cautiously looked up at her like you could hardly believe anybody would pay that much for so little time and more. “Don’t be so tense, the money's good, and as far as I know,” lightly grabbing you by the shoulders from behind, “a credible production.” You look back at your mirror and let out an exhale through your nose, “I hear a big name’s on it as well, could be good exposure for you,” Toothfully grinning at you, that made you almost laugh. Your name had already been circulating for years now, but she still said it like you were just starting out.
“Alright,” you said at last. “Send me the schedule.”
It almost felt odd how– convenient it all was. Your flights were covered. Your hotel was already paid for. Even your meals had been arranged in advance. It felt less like a job offer and more like someone had anticipated every reason you might say no, and removed them one by one. It was as though you had forgotten how sneaky somebody could be.
It was only a few days you had settled into Los Angeles, and you still felt as though you were being thrown out of the loop on purpose. Still, you barely had a reason to walk away from potentially a big opportunity.
Not yet.
“Cmon pick up the pace– excellent– just like that!”
A week of rehearsal, you began getting the hang of everything. Chaotic, yes, but it sure felt rewarding. While you still didn’t know the specifics to everything, you figured out you were the main lead in a music video. More so, a “love” interest based on how you and your partner moved together. He was more so a double for your real lead. Never seeing who you'd actually be performing with until later due to, "conflicting schedules”, or something. Even weirder, never hearing the actual song during practices, just an instrumental or beats of some sort to follow. Despite the secretiveness of it all, it didn’t affect you all much considering the check.
After a much needed spa day, you were back on the road. You had just stepped out of the sedan with your cheffur helping you out, “Ok– wardrobe check in thirty, after, your first onset rehearsal–” Your agent listed your schedule, already on to work not even ten steps out of the high end car, “Oh! Can’t forget–”
“I think thats– no way–”
“It SO is– oh my god!”
You were just a few steps in front of the designated set location before you began getting looks and whispers. It was expected considering the set was half a tropical lush pavilion and half cables, cameras and set dressers. It clearly caught attention, even from the distance you were at before entering the building, with hanging lights, floral arches with rosewood and white accents. Whoever the artist was clearly meant business–
“Please can I get a picture–” A young teen said, "You tried to quickly sneak off before any more attention was brought, “What perfume do you use!?” Trying to sign as many autographs without staying put, “How do you feel being on set of a Michael Jackson film!-” Profusely apologizing about needed to get somewhere– wait, did she just say Michael Jackson–
“Cmon, hun, we’re going to be late,” Your agent pulled you away in the middle of processing said information, “Assistants are already waiting for you in the dressing rooms, hurry, hurry!” She said while rushing you away while she went to producers.
Had you heard that right? Michael Jackson– film– together? Not possible. It had been years since you'd heard from him– even more so since you were in the same room as him. You definitely would've known if you were working with him– plus he never bothered to contact you anyway. He showed no means in caring for what you two had, you were now doing better things anyway. Forget him, it doesn't matter. Must've been Samuel Jackson instead–
If you weren't so caught up in your head, you would've noticed how you rushed into the wrong dressing room. Quickly closing the door and already deep in thought while pulling your top half above your mid section–
“Not quite what I imagined our first time seeing each other again would look like.”
Fuck
You jolted so hard your shoulder hit the wall behind you. There Michael was, standing near the vanity, staring like he almost couldn’t believe it was you standing there. Not exactly amused, nor exactly smiling, just curious and caught off guard. He quickly narrowed his eyes away, flustered with the sight he almost caught.
“Oh my God–” You quickly pulled your top down, mortified, “What are you doing here?” you finally blurted. Seeing him again brought a wave of euphoria and a crashing wave of resentment, there he was. The years clearly changed him, and not just physically. No longer that same guy who rambled, twitched with posture, and nervously kept to himself. Despite trying to avoid him, you saw him everywhere anyway. But in person, he was clearly more sharp, steadier. Aware of himself. However, his eyes still had that longing stare that even after years made you avert away.
Michael met your face again, “...This is my dressing room.” You quickly glanced around, finally noticing his belongings around. Feeling the heat rise to your face like you were some dumb nervous teen again.
“Oh.”
“Mhm.”
The silence hit you stronger than ever, you weren't prepared for the emotional turmoil, you weren't even sure you were ever ready to even see him again let alone unpack the past.
“Well I’m just–” You snapped to your senses, reaching towards the door, “I’m just going to go and–”
“You really disappeared.”
Pausing, back facing him. He sounded…hurt? Not accusing or angry, just genuine confusion. He saw you hesitantly turn to him, sharing that same confused look. Slight furrowed brows and frustration slowly seeping into your features. Even as the weight of feeling left behind settled into his chest like it did years ago, he still felt almost– blissful to see you. The years treated you well. He spent years sneaking into theaters just to see you again, despite it all, those screens had no chance to you right now. Your perfume lingered in the air, features blossomed since he last saw you in person, honeyed voice still rang in his ear, it began messing with his head all over again.
“Just,” A slight pause, vulnerably slowly easing in his demeanor, “...wanted to know why,”
Standing in disbelief, your mouth opened and closed trying to let anything out.
“I waited for you.” The only shred of vulnerability you could allow yourself to admit, already regretting what you said.
Thud– Thud–
“Set rehearsal starts in twenty minutes!”
You took that chance to quickly escape before you could ever get a chance to hear his reasoning for never reaching out. It made no sense to you how he could have the nerve to ask something like that when he showed no motion for caring about what you two had, it stung more knowing that you didn’t have a right to feel wronged when it was you who decided to leave. You didn’t know what weighed more on you, guilt or betrayal.
Michael’s gaze stayed on the spot you just stood, thoughts coursing through his mind on what you meant. Waited?
For him?
Staring at the door you had just left out of, his stance shifted. For years, Michael was under the impression you walked away because he did something, because you wanted to. At least that's what he tried to convince himself.
But that didn’t sound like somebody who wanted to leave. His brows slowly pulled together, jaw tightening. He was missing something.
What was he missing?
You were still shaken up from the encounter from earlier, so much so that thirty minutes breezed by without you noticing. Lost in your own thoughts not even realizing you were all dolled up by now. Outfit consisted of a cream lace tie front top, layered shawls and wraps draped loosely around your waist, soft fabrics cascading unevenly with flower accents. Perfectly matching the scenery around with the bohemian fairy-like outfit. Almost ethereal. Just now realizing that in a few minutes, you'll be in even closer proximity to Michael than you just were. And that encounter alone had you fidgety. If it was anything like your practice partner, it would get personal quick.
Were you in the right state to handle that? You didn’t know if you were nervous for the fact that you still had lingering feelings for him or for the fact that he would be able to truly see you– feel you. In all your years of performing for a screen, none had made you more nervous than this one. No one had made you more nervous than him.
“King Of Pop incoming– get on set already.” Your agent hurriedly rushed you. You turned to see him already in front of the cameras getting slight touch ups on his hair. Sighing quietly, you slowly made your way over.
As the instrumental flooded the set, Michael stepped toward you first. Despite the fast paced music, he gently held you. The second his hand found yours, he guided you into movement with practiced ease. Sharp turns. Quick footwork. Controlled. Yet somehow every movement still felt unbearably personal.
She’s got the look—
His grip adjusted against your waist, firm enough to guide but careful enough to never overstep. The choreography kept pulling you closer only to separate you again seconds later, almost teasingly. No hesitation. Like earlier never happened.
Step.
Turn.
Pull.
Your shawls swayed with every movement as he spun you back against his chest with seamless precision. Each step you both took, with more caress. Faces inching closer and closer, until they painfully snapped back.
She driving me wild–
A breath caught in your throat. The proximity was suffocating in the worst way possible, worse for the fact it felt as though you were the only one being affected by it. Could he notice?
Michael leaned closer during the next count, one hand sliding lower against your side as he dipped you slightly before bringing you upright again. His expression never fully changed, but his focus had.
It stayed entirely on you.
As if speaking to you through movement, showing you the best way he knew how to express his feelings. Like it was only you two on the floor. No cameras. No crew. Just you.
That girls my baby–
His voice so sensually playing repeatedly in your ears. Your eyes finally met his fully then.
Big mistake.
Because suddenly every unresolved feeling from years ago sat plainly behind his stare. Clear set desire and longing, you were hypnotizing him. The same man who thrived on perfection was now having his senses flooded by you–
“I left because I thought you would leave me first–”
You quietly blurted out once you got close for him and only him to hear.
“I thought you deserved better”
He slowed just enough for nobody to notice, but his full attention was on you as much as he didn’t want it to be.
“I left you a note–”
Turn.
“And you never ended up reaching out,” Eyes averted away, slightly glossed.
There was more to say, there was more you felt. But you couldn’t right now, not when it didn’t feel safe enough to know if he would play you again.
“And cut!”
You jolted out of his hold as much as you wished you could lean in deeper. Now escaping into the crew that were making their way towards the middle of the set.
“Felt so raw– so intimate and…–”
You could hear the director comment behind while you paced to your dressing room for a breather.
“You ran off so quick!” Your agent bursted in while you touched up your blush trying to distract yourself, “You two were in full sync–” Pausing slightly, you tried to ignore her while she unknowingly teased and giggled, “Like seriously in sync… rubbing all on each other and damn near kissing” You got up abruptly trying to get the image out of your head, not that she noticed, “Ugh, I can’t wait to see you out there for the mini reshoots,” Reshoots…you had be in arms reach of him again, “God all that tension in the air you would think you wanted to eat each other–”
“Leave.” You suddenly said, not baring the thought of him, “Just leave, please.” Turning to her and slowly losing your sense of self, “Right now– I can’t.” Turning your back on her again as you went to take a seat at your vanity again, you heard the door click shut. Moments of silence that made the room seem small. Closing your eyes just to imagine you weren’t there.
Till you heard another click–
“I’ll be back I just need a breather–” Your words caught in your throat the second you turned around.
He was there.
Michael stood still, like he’d been there the entire time you weren’t looking. Those same eyes that said more than anything right now.
“I tried chasing you,” Not knowing if he meant in the past, now, or both. “If I had a way to reach you…I would've." Quietly said. Like it cost him something to admit. Your breath stalled.
“I figured losing me just didn’t matter that much to you.” You slowly stood, forcing yourself to stay steady even as your chest tightened. Trying to not believe him so easily.
Michael was never good with words– or being vulnerable at all. But he wanted to, for you.
“I kept lookin’ for you in crowds for a while.” He slowly stepped closer, testing the waters.
“Michael…”
“You keep lookin’ at me like I’m a stranger.” Hiding how truly hurt he felt.
You stayed silent, not quite finding the right words yet but not backing away from him.
“You think I didn’t look for you?” he said quietly. “You don’t know what I was left thinkin’.”
He was close now. Too close for either of you to pretend this was still distant. A pause. The kind that says too much without words.
“You’re really gonna stand there and act like none of it mattered?” he asked softer.
Your breath hitched.
“You could’ve found me.” Finding ways to resent him.
Another pause.
He looked at you for a long moment before speaking again, quieter this time.
“And if I did… what was I supposed to say to you when I thought you abandoned me?”
That stopped you. Guilt eating away at you at the thought that he thought you left because you wanted to.
He shook his head slightly, almost like he was frustrated with himself more than you. He wanted closure, confirmation it wasn't in his head.
“Say you didn’t miss me.”
Something in your expression broke before you could stop it.
You closed the space between you first.
The kiss wasn’t gentle at first, more like relief that had nowhere else to go. Only taken aback for a second before he reacted. Like he’d been holding his breath for years and finally forgot how to stop.One hand came up to your face like he needed to confirm you were real. The other stayed at your waist, careful, like even now he was still trying not to lose you. You reached for his neck, feeling as though it was the closest you could possibly have him. Even after years of him longing for you, he held back his hunger for you, letting out only small grunts. Always thinking of you first.
When you finally pulled back just enough to breathe, neither of you fully let go.
“I tried. I really tried to move on.” Muttering quietly to him while he held you closer, “I’m sorry– I don’t know what I was think–”
“I’m right here.” He assured you, quick to not let you think this was on you. He too felt guilty for not fighting hard enough for you.
“I won’t let you go this time.” He leaned in this time, slow enough that if you wanted to stop him you could.
But you didn’t.
And for the first time, there was no confusion left between you. Only everything you both had been holding back.
King Of Pop and Hollywood Royalty seen SNEAKING off to…PARK!?
Soooo how we feelin with vampire MJ next...reblog with black heart if yall open to it! :D Finished this at night while having a graduation to attend in less than 5 hours LMAO Plz criticize me I'd love to know how I can get better as a new writer, TYSM FOR THE LOVE
⸝⸝ summary : you’re a young reporter that becomes famous for being the only journalist who doesn’t fall for michael jackson’s charm.
⸝⸝ word count : 2.5k
⸝⸝ tags : enemies to lovers(?), slowburn, bit of angst, oneshot
⸝⸝ a/n : first time writing a fanfic kinda nervous…. (pls be nice to me ><)
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the first few interviews between you and michael feel like controlled chaos. every producer in the building is stressed because nobody knows whether they're about to argue or end each other's careers on live television.
most interviews either praise and worship him like a God, but you, on the other hand, refuse to treat him the way everyone else does.
what's more surprising is that despite your bluntness, both of your chemistries become famous because of constant arguing and playful banters.
one of the earliest interviews started with michael arriving late on purpose because he found you annoying from the previous press interviews.
michael finally sat down, and you checked your watch dramatically.
"wow. i was starting to think you moonwalked on the way here."
the crew tries not to laugh, while michael just stares at her for a second before smiling slowly and replying.
"i considered it."
and the tension is immediately there. the whole interview is basically you both are trying to outsmart each other.
"so which version of michael jackson i'm interviewing today? the global superstar or the man who bought a pet monkey?"
he leans back like he's offended.
"you say it like those are two different people."
then another time, you kept throwing questions at him and noticed him dodging every question.
"y'know, you answer questions like a politician."
"and yet you keep inviting me back," he instantly fires back at you.
that specific part became insanely popular. the audience loves watching them because it never feels scripted. compared to other people interviewing michael feels rehearsed, but with you, it was entertaining because it was unpredictable.
there's one interview where you try to embarrass him by bringing up ridiculous tabloid headlines about him.
"'michael jackson sleeps in an oxygen chamber to remain immortal,' comments ?" you read dramatically.
"it's comfortable," he answered with a serious expression.
you broke character. letting out a laugh for the first time on camera.
and he notices, oh, he notices.
after seeing you laugh, he starts trying to make you laugh on purpose during interviews just to throw you off.
"do you enjoy being difficult?"
"only with you."
the audience in the studio loses it. you immediately rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you got flustered at his answer.
the interview became so popular that networks keep booking you guys together because ratings spike every single time.
even off the camera, you both bicker constantly. you kept complaining how he enjoys making interviews harder for you, while he says you kept asking invasive questions on purpose because you liked arguing with him.
neither of you realizes everyone around you just thinks you're in love with each other; you both heavily deny having any special relationship.
"he's arrogant."
"she's terrifying."
the crew just laughs it off, didn't believe a single word you guys said.
at industry events, both of you are always pretending to avoid each other. but somehow ending up meeting half-way every time.
you arrived at an awards show, already overwhelmed and exhausted at the chaos of the crowd, reporters, and celebrities. the second you saw michael arrive at the event, you immediately groaned mentally.
"oh great. him."
meanwhile he already noticed you within seconds of entering, doesn't matter how crowded it was, he always does. bill and his staff started to notice that he becomes annoyingly observant whenever you're around.
one time during an awards show, you'd be backstage preparing another interview with michael and reviewing your notes aggressively, determined not to let him derail the questions again.
"you rehearse insults before interviews?" a voice behind you says.
you jumped a bit before turning your head to him, to see michael literally reading your notes over your shoulder. you immediately closed your notebook.
"you're not supposed to see that."
he looks genuinely amused.
"you wrote 'annoyingly evasive."
"because you are annoyingly evasive."
"i think i got that. you underlined it twice."
michael would start seeking you out backstage without realizing he's doing it. after performances or interviews, he'll find an excuse to casually wander toward wherever you were, and his staff catches on way before he does.
"...you do know she isn't part of the stage setup, right?"
one of the staff says, but michael just ignores them.
sometimes before the cameras roll, he likes to ruin your composure just for the fun of it.
you were mentally preparing serious questions, suddenly he leans towards you and quietly mutters,
"you look nervous."
"i'm never nervous," you immediately replied defensively.
"your cue cards are upside down."
you looked at your cue cards, and they were indeed upside down.
"...i knew that." no you didn't. and you hate that he notices small things about you.
after interviews, the crew had already packed up ten minutes ago. while both of you kept lingering around each other longer than necessary, arguing about random things. whether he enjoys provoking you on purpose.
"oh please, you kept giving me vague answers on purpose just to irritate me."
"no, i do it because watching you get frustrated is funny."
thing is, michael feels more comfortable around you than almost anyone else. executives, media people, or even his own family, he was always careful and calculated because he was used to being watched constantly. but he gets unexpectedly playful when he was with you, it's strange.
he always find a way to get on your nerves, stealing your pen during interviews, changing your que cards, or sneaking behind you to give a scare because you get surprised easily.
but you never let him win either. if he hides your notes, you steal his glasses. mocking your questions? you threaten to bring up embarrassing tabloid rumors on live television.
the tension was so obvious that other celebrities started noticing too. there was one time when elizabeth taylor saw them arguing backstage and casually asked,
"...so how long have you two been together?"
"WE'RE NOT," both respond, immediately.
but the thing is, neither of you understands why you both keep gravitating towards each other. you tell yourself he's interesting to interview, while michael tells himself he just likes to challenge you.
years of interviews made you both subconsciously memorize each other's habits. like you learn that his moods are based on how quiet he gets before appearances, and he learns exactly what kind of jokes will make you laugh even when you're not supposed to during your job.
then the allegations about michael started.you thought it was nonsense, a bunch of bullcrap. even though you found him annoying most of the time, you just couldn't see him doing such awful things as the allegations stated after knowing him all these years.
so at first, it didn't really fully hit you; you thought this would just die down eventually. not until you walked into the newsroom and realized nobody's speaking about michael jackson like a person anymore.
just headlines, numbers, and scandal.
the discussions about michael used to be annoying to you, but it was normal, like arguments about his music. but now, it was different, colder. reporters who used to beg for michael's exclusives are now turning his back on him, acting like they were more superior now. what even irritates you is how they talk about him like he was already guilty when nothing is proven yet. it was against your morals, the whole point of why you became a journalist in the first place.
during a televised panel discussion, you sat with the other journalists while huge headlines flash behind them. it was overwhelming to say at least, everyone was talking over each other and trying to sound righteous for the cameras. you just stayed and sat quietly, remaining unbiased and maintaining your professionalism in the whole situation.
"public opinion doesn't turn this violently unless there's truth behind it," a reporter suddenly says.
you heard it, of course you did. you hated how easy it was for them to say such things.
"public opinion thought a lot of people were guilty before trials even happened. that's not evidence." you immediately cut in.
the entire room goes quiet for a second, because nobody expected you to push back. especially not you.
another journalist smirks at you.
“you sound very defensive of him.”
you snap back immediately.
"i'm defensive of the fact that journalism is supposed to involve facts before assuming one is guilty when nothing is even proven yet."
overnight, people started accusing her of being manipulated by michael jackson. fans were shocked when you defended him after years of combative interviews between you and michael. your own network quietly warns you to stop sounding 'emotionally involved.'
but you knew you were hard-headed because you kept going even after being told not to. not blindly defending him, not saying he's perfect, but refusing to participate in the media frenzy.
then the first interview with michael jackson after the allegations exploded, the atmosphere was different from their old interviews.
and you noticed the change immediately.
the teasing disappears, the room is quiet, and he stops sneaking up behind you because he doesn't know if he's still allowed to be close to you anymore.
he doesn't meet your eyes for long. he seems exhausted, guarded. smaller somehow. you realized he was emotionally preparing himself for you turning on him publicly, as everyone else has. your realization hurts you more than you expected.
and for the first time, you get nervous interviewing him.
your producers expect confrontation from him. they want tears, outrage, dramatic moments for the television. even your coworkers expect you to finally 'break' him on screen.
but instead, you ask quietly,
"how are you holding up?"
michael looks at you, genuinely confused. like he expected an attack from you, like kindness from you specifically feels impossible because he spent years thinking you disliked him.
he gives a careful PR answer at first, but your eyes landed at his trembling hands. you knew him well after all these years interviewing him, and you notice every small thing the audience misses.
at one point, you asked a difficult question- because you still have to, you're still a journalist. the room goes quiet afterward.
michael looks down for a second before answering quietly instead of defensively.
and suddenly you hate that question too.
because this wasn't the same man who used to challenge her back with smug little remarks anymore. this version of him seems deeply, deeply lonely.
the interview airs, and the public reaction is chaos. people accused you of going easy on him; others say you were emotionally attached.
and because the media loves turning women into villains, suddenly you become part of the story too.
'she's biased,'
'she's in love with him,'
'she's defending him for access.'
your coworkers become colder towards you. some openly mock you for still interviewing him.
you walked into the newsroom, your head up high. you didn't care about what the media thinks, let alone your coworkers. you stick to what you believe is right, even if it means losing everything.
"careful, your boyfriend's on the front page again," you hear someone joke.
the entire room laughs, except you. because now it doesn't feel funny anymore.
michael notices the backlash she's receiving because of him, and it genuinely messes him up. he was used to people attacking him, but watching you get dragged into it because you stood beside him? it destroys him.
so he starts pulling away from you on purpose. not because he doesn't trust you anymore, quite literally the opposite. distancing himself is a way to protect you; he doesn't want your career and reputation to be destroyed because of him.
he leaves right after the interviews, stops making smug little remarks, and stops trying to make her laugh.
you noticed, and you were angry- but in reality, you were hurt because you thought he didn't trust you anymore.
you walked backstage and cornered him, and a confrontation finally exploded between them.
"are you seriously avoiding me now?"
"you shouldn't be around me," he immediately says, not in a cold tone. just defeated, like he genuinely believes it.
you scoffed, getting angrier because he means it.
"they ruin everyone near me eventually."
you blinked, that was the moment where you finally understand how isolated he's become.
alone.
that made you more determined. so you published about pushing back against the media frenzy again, and the backlash was brutal this time. your network questions your professionalism, coworkers stop speaking to her normally, and tabloids are saying that you were romantically involved with michael jackson.
michael sees all of it.
after a particularly awful broadcast one night, you were alone backstage gathering your things after everyone else had left. your eyes were red and tired, you were exhausted, angry, maybe even wondering if defending him was worth losing everything over.
"you should've let them hate me alone."
you turned around, and you see him standing there. you get even angrier, because you could tell that he genuinely believes that people caring about him only ends up badly.
"well that wasn't exactly an option anymore, was it?" you snap back.
for the first time in a month, you both argue properly again. not the distant and careful conversations you've both been having. real emotion.
"why do you keep shutting people out? shutting me out like i'm everybody else?"
"you're destroying your own reputation trying to protect me, it ain't worth it."
"you don't get to decide for me whether you're worth standing beside, michael." you blurted out.
michael was silent because nobody says things like that to him anymore. all his life, he was surrounded by most people who either wanted something from him or were terrified of being associated with him.
but you were standing there, fully aware of the consequences, but you still refused to leave. that's the moment when his walls finally start to break.
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after the worst of the noise, you both start finding your way back to each other.
during backstage, a quiet moment where you hand him orange juice before an interview.
"if you start giving boring answers again, i'm walking out."
and for the first time in months, he smiles properly.
the playful teasing comes back gradually, but at first, it's small things. in one interview, michael made sarcastic comments under his breath during interviews again, which made you roll your eyes whenever he gets difficult on purpose. he started stealing your pen backstage like old times.
you immediately notice, because those tiny habits from him means that he feels safe enough to be himself around you again, you felt relief.
then the court case came in.
it felt exhausting instead of triumphant; it emotionally drained not only him but you as well.
the media coverage becomes nonstop, cameras and speculation were everywhere, and people were treating the trial like it was entertainment.
you kept defending michael and the importance of evidence on television, while most reporters sensationalize everything for ratings.
michael gradually stops looking numb and starts looking angry instead- not in a dramatic way, just years of exhaustion finally surfacing.
then when it becomes clear that there was absolutely no evidence on him that could prove the accusations.
after a major court developement in his favor, reporters swarm him outside the courthouse, screaming questions, shoving cameras onto his face.
now everybody suddenly wants access to him again, now that public opinion is shifting, like they didn't turn their backs on him.
through the midst of the chaos, he sees you, standing farther away from the crowd. not chasing headlines, just watching to make sure he's okay.
meeting his eyes, you gave him a small smile, and something shifted in him. so instead of addressing the reporters first, he walked directly towards you.
the crowd completely loses it. cameras were flashing everywhere, and people were yelling questions.
you were stunned to say at least. because you never thought he would publicly choose her side that openly before.
"you stayed," he says quietly. it was simple, honest, and devastating.
because to michael, that was the thing he couldn't get over- that you stayed when leaving him would've been easier. standing beside him when everyone turned away, and for the first time ever, he didn't feel alone in this world.
dededos
jacobvanloon
origamiaround
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
2087
janainaart
