Hello would you mind writing something about mature Micheal and him loving to smack his gf or wife’s ass. Haha he seemed to be into that and it would be a fun story to read. Thank you 🤭
he LOVES slapping back and that’s facts𑣲⋆
summary: mature!michael can’t keep his hands off of his younger wife!reader
⋆˚꩜｡ the small door to the baby pink volkswagen beetle slammed shut behind you, the wide sunglasses pushed up into your hair to keep it out of your face as you opened the trunk of your car.
a creak emitted from the white front door, michael’s head popping out to check if you were home, obviously hearing your car pull up in the huge driveway.
“hi, baby! can you help me grab these bags please”, waving cheerfully, clearly having a dopamine rush from all of the shopping you had just done.
michael hummed, his socked feet pattering down the concrete as he got closer to you, watching you bend over to reach further into the trunk.
standing behind you, waiting for you to pass him the bags of luxury goods you had just acquired, he took in your appearance.
the black juicy couture velour tracksuit hugged you tight, and as you bent over, the jacket rode up, revealing a tiny bit of your lower back.
the gems from the juicy logo stretched tight across your ass, glistening in the los angeles sunlight, making michael lick his lips and grab your waist. his ivory hands gripped you tight and pressed you up against his lower half as you reached for the final bags in the trunk.
“mikey, i can’t reach the bags, you’re pulling me back,” you giggled, clearly amused by his touchiness.
“m’sorry pretty girl, you’re just so irresistible” he hummed, before taking a step back and swinging his hand to meet your backside in a quick slap, watching the flesh jiggle beneath the velour material.
you jumped, quickly turning around and giving him a pointed look. pushing the small bags into his hands, almost giving him a silent instruction to get away from you and take the bags in instead.
michael laughed, a deep, raspy vibration from his chest, head tilting back as he turned on his heel, his dark, fluffy hair bouncing with each step towards the house.
shaking your head, a manicured hand reached above you to grab the trunk before slamming it shut. god, what were you going to do with that man and his hands.
⋆˚꩜｡ on a much needed night off with michael, you were both in the kitchen. the moscato wine glugged as it left the expensive bottle into the tall crystal wine glasses on the marble counter.
the staff had been sent home in, what felt like, a once in a lifetime opportunity to spend some alone time with michael whilst he wasn’t absolutely exhausted from working all day.
you turned towards him, the fabric of your sheer nightdress swishing at your waist as you brought the glass to your lip gloss stained lips, leaving a shiny pink mark on the rim.
michael stared at you as you took a sip, reaching behind you to grab the wine glass whilst his other hand rested on your hip to steady himself.
“so are we watching a movie tonight? i know there’s this really good one that’s just come out, i think you’ll like it” you questioned, wiping the top of your lip.
“mm.. we can if you want, although i had other ideas about how tonight might go…”, his voice lowering more as he spoke, his head dipping to become face to face with you.
“oh? like what, baby?”, tilting your head, knowing exactly what he was referring to but wanting to tease him a little bit.
he placed the glass back onto the counter, both hands now caging you in.
“you know, me and you… upstairs…” he trailed off, eyes flicking over to the grand staircase.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your lips closer to his, feeling his breath fan across them.
“let’s go then, baby”, a high pitch giggle emitting from you as you swiftly turned, still carrying the wine glass in your hands.
as you turned the corner of the counter, moving towards the staircase, a smack echoed throughout the kitchen.
michael smirked, his hand landing perfectly on the round flesh beneath your flowy dress.
“ouch! oh my gosh, michael.. why do you still catch me off guard when you do that, i should expect it by now..” you groaned, now walking backwards and facing him.
he shrugged, a proud smile painted across his face, before grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs.
⋆˚꩜｡ the broom swept across the living room floor, the toys being brushed aside so you could reach the biscuit crumbs on the floor.
you had just put your son down for a nap, it being much needed as he had seemed to have so much energy today that by the early afternoon you were absolutely exhausted.
michael had been locked away in his studio all morning, having said that he had an idea, shooting up from bed and running down the hallway into the studio.
your hair fell out of the loose updo you had temporarily placed it in, further adding to the sensory overload you were having.
you stood straight, holding the toys your son had thrown around the room, turning to place them into the toy box. michael stood in the doorway, you had been so focused on cleaning up that you had not heard him walk into the living room.
you jumped slightly, his presence unexpected, before throwing the toys into the toy box and slamming the top shut.
“hey, hey.. what’s the matter, pretty girl” he said, concern lacing his voice, his arms stretched out to grab you.
“i’m just so exhausted, it’s like he wouldn’t just have a moment of downtime. he kept jumping up and running around to grab something he shouldn’t be touching, and he usually isn’t like that so it just stressed me out” you whined, your head falling onto his chest as you leant on him.
his dressing gown clad arms wrapped around your back, his hands sliding further down your back to rest on the curve between your lower back and ass.
“it’s alright, baby, is he asleep now?”
you nodded against his chest, your eyes shutting in a moment of relaxation.
“should we go and sit outside for a second, let you clear your mind. if he wakes up, the chef will definitely hear and let us know” he whispered, his head resting on yours.
his hands moved further down, bringing a few small taps to your butt for comfort and also because he's obsessed with the way it feels in his hands.
michael moved back, his hands still gripping your waist before turning you around, his arm wrapped around you to keep you pressed against him as you walked outside for a moment of peace.
“You’re already going to bed?” Michael looks up from his spot on the couch in his bedroom.
“Yes, my angel,” you say, focused on putting on your pajamas. “It’s already 10 pm and I am exhausted”
Michael lets out an exasperated sigh and throws his head back.
“But, I’m not tired,” he says. You giggle.
“Then don’t go to bed,” you say. You put your bonnet on and hop underneath the covers. You close your eyes.
A couple of minutes go by and you feel someone hovering over you. You open your eyes and see Michael.
“Need something?” you ask.
“I want to go to bed with you.” Michael says.
“Come,” you pat his spot on the bed. He points at his hair. “Oh.”
“I’ll braid it down for you,” you say.
“Really?” Michael asks.
“Sure.” Michael runs to get all the supplies needed. He plops down right in front of you.
You start to part Michael’s head into smaller sections using the tail of the comb. Then you begin to braid it.
“This feels really nice,” Michael says.
“It’s relaxing, huh?” you ask.
“Very,” he answers. You smile. “My mother is rough when she does it.”
You softly laugh at him. He's never liked getting his hair done.
“So is mine,” the two of y’all continue to sit in comfortable silence while you braid his hair.
"Your hair is so pretty and long," you say. You can tell he's grinning from ear to ear by the way his shoulders lift.
"I need a haircut," he says.
"You're just fine," you reassure him.
"You're fine," he flirts, tilting his head backwards to face you. You roll your eyes and kiss his forehead.
"Don't flirt with me this late at night, angel," you joke.
"I'll save it for the morning then," he says. "I'll braid your hair after you're done," Michael suggests. You shake your head 'no' even though he can't see it.
"I'm tired and I already put my hair up, maybe tomorrow," you say.
"You're no fun," he pouts. You laugh at him. “If you were an animal, what would you be?” Michael asks.
“I dunno,” you start, pausing from the piece of hair you were braiding to think. “A domesticated one, for sure.”
Knock knock
“Come in,” Michael softly yells. The door opens and some of his brothers pile in. "What do you guys want?" he asks.
“It was a little too quiet in here,” Jackie says.
“We thought y'all were up to something,” Jermaine adds.
Marlon walks over to the bed and flops down.
"Awww, you combing his head?” Marlon asks.
"Just braiding his hair," you explain, hyper focused on the task. His brothers giggle.
"Shut up," Michael mumbles under his breath to his brothers.
“Do me next!” Jermaine says, he walks over. “I want my afro to be bigger than my head tomorrow.”
"No," Michael answers for you.
"I was asking her," Jermaine reiterates.
"We're going to bed after she's done," Michael says in an annoyed tone. "So, no."
Loves holding your hand, tracing circles on your skin, playing with your fingers while talking, and wrapping his arms around you whenever he gets the chance. Really good at fingering; it came naturally to him the same way he moves his fingers on stage to the rhythm of the music. OTW, Era Mike was shy at first about being intimate, but as he got older and built trust between the two of you, he became a lot more confident.
He’s a Munch
Loves to eat like nothing else in this world, especially when y'all first started dating, and he was a bit inexperienced (of course, Big Mike figured it out eventually). Loves it when you sit on his face.
Favorite Position
Anything that lets him stay close to you. He's the type who wants eye contact and sweet kisses, loves missionary and cowgirl, his favourite view is the faces you make during sex, absolutely hates doggy style, can't see your face, properly kiss you, and can't see your tits bounce up and down in time with his thrusts.
Places He Likes to Fuck
At home, on the couch while watching movies, in bed, especially in the mornings, in the recording booth if you can be quiet (he definitely turns the mic on a few times to remix your moans into the song) @boredpretty One place he wants to try that he would never tell anyone about, in a tree.
Kinks
Praise- he begs for it so good, needs the reassurance that he's being good and making you feel good, kissing- loves a good nasty sloppy kiss that has spit running down both of your chins, especially if it drips onto your boobs, Lowkey tickling not fully but his skin is very sensitive so he loves it when you have long nails or when you gently brush your fingertips over his skin especially the skin on his neck, back and shoulders it makes him shiver everytime.
Aftercare
Amazing at aftercare; the most gentle man ever won't wanna get up and just wants to cuddle but quickly reminds himself that you need more than that, insists on doing all of the aftercare even when his legs are shaking harder than yours. Runs you both a hot bath and insists on drying you off when it's time to get out; gets so clingy after sex, only wants to sleep skin to skin so he can really “feel you”.
Tag list : @cocomilaa @blcknebula @stiflersbabymama @callmeoncette @needjoekeery @nuttyrebelflower @1eliana123-blog @ladyearthsea @rastharex @darkgreengrl @bananajoeclone @violet0182 @minghaossv @melynex @thebabykashmere @ghoulxeg @simply-lovley44
warnings: fan hysteria, paparazzi culture, invasive interviews, sexual jokes/humor, suggestive concert moments, screaming fangirls, fame, chaos, confident Michael
guys pls go easy on me with this one 😭 i wanted to try something a little different and i honestly don’t even fully know how i feel about it yet. this isn’t really a x reader fic, it’s more michael-focused, and i experimented a little with the writing style/structure just to see if i liked it. i’ll probably go back to my usual style after this, but i wanted to step outside the box for a second and try something new because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone
hopefully you guys still enjoy it as much as i enjoyed putting this together <3
This is very long, by the way, 15 pages on Google Docs, which is one of the reasons why I did not get out no comment part 2
--------------
The Jackson house was quiet for maybe three seconds before Michael’s voice came blasting through the speakers again.
“—don’t stop till you get enough—”
Jermaine groaned dramatically from the couch.
“Again?”
Janet snorted from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a magazine.
“You say that, but you still know all the words.”
“'Cause it’s everywhere,” Jermaine argued.
“You say that every day and then sing along every single time.”
“I do NOT sing along.”
“You absolutely do.”
Katherine shook her head softly from her chair, smiling while folding laundry.
Everywhere was an understatement.
Radio stations couldn’t seem to go more than twenty minutes without mentioning Michael somehow.
If it wasn’t his music playing, it was people calling into stations talking about him.
Talking about his voice.
His dancing.
His smile.
His outfits.
His everything.
Jermaine reached over and switched the station.
Michael.
Another station.
Michael again.
Another station.
A DJ laughing into the microphone:
“Ladies, please stop calling the station asking if we know Michael Jackson personally. We do not.”
Then the announcer’s voice came through the speakers excitedly.
“And in entertainment news tonight, Michael Jackson has officially been voted one of this year’s Sexiest Men Alive…”
Everybody froze.
Janet rolled backward onto the carpet, laughing.
“Oh, this is getting ridiculous.”
Jermaine looked personally offended.
“WHO voted for this???”
The announcer kept going excitedly:
“Magazine sales have reportedly exploded overnight with stores selling out within hours…”
Joe reached over and shut the radio off instantly.
— — — — —
By the next morning, it was worse.
Much worse.
Magazine covers were EVERYWHERE.
Huge glossy pictures of Michael covered storefronts all across the city.
Dark sunglasses despite the fact that it was clearly nighttime in the photoshoot.
Gold chains around his neck.
Black shirt hanging halfway open.
The photographers on television sounded insane.
“MICHAEL LOOK OVER HERE…”
“THAT’S THE COVER.”
Camera flashes exploded nonstop around him.
Michael leaned back against a cream-colored couch, looking completely relaxed while women somewhere behind the cameras could literally be heard screaming.
Marlon stared at the TV.
“…what kinda photoshoot is this?,its nasty.”
Janet grabbed the magazine from Marlon’s hands.
“MOVE ”
Then another photo.
Michael is shirtless this time.
Gold chain against his chest.
Curls damp around his face.
Gray sweatpants hanging low enough to make Katherine immediately cover her eyes.
“Oh no”
Jackie stared at the page in disbelief.
“Why he laying like that???”
Jermaine looked traumatized.
“Exactly, and WHO told him to pose like this?”
Another picture.
Michael stretched out across the couch with one arm behind his head while staring directly into the camera through dark sunglasses.
The comments beneath the televised reveal were somehow worse.
“That man could ruin my life, and I wouldn't even complain.”
“Those sweatpants are disrespectful to my mental health.”
“HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING.”
Another girl clutched the magazine to her chest dramatically.
“If Michael Jackson asked me to bark for him, I would.”
Katherine looked Appalled.
“Michael Joseph Jackson, this is not how I raised him.”
Then the special moved into concert footage.
And suddenly, everybody got quieter.
Because no matter how much they joked…
Michael really was different onstage.
Bigger somehow.
The screen flashed with clips from different performances around the country.
Crowds screaming before he even appeared.
People fainting.
Crying.
Shaking.
The second Michael stepped onto the stage during one concert, the sound from the crowd became almost deafening.
The commentator spoke over the footage.
“Michael Jackson concerts have started drawing record-breaking crowds across the country…”
“Fans describing his performances as less like concerts and more like spiritual experiences.”
Michael spun across the stage effortlessly while the crowd screamed so loudly the audio almost distorted.
Sweat rolled slowly down his neck beneath the lights.
Chains bounced against his chest while he danced.
Then…
He ripped his shirt open.
The crowd LOST THEIR MINDS.
People crying.
Security guards looking stressed.
Then the footage cut again.
Another concert.
Another crowd absolutely losing control.
A girl somehow broke through security and sprinted toward the stage.
Michael barely had time to react before she launched herself directly into his arms.
The audience screamed.
The girl looked up at him, realized she was being held by Michael Jackson
Then passed out cold
Michael looked genuinely panicked.
“Oh my God ”
“Is she okay???”
Security rushed over while Michael stood there trying not to laugh.
Then another clip.
A girl climbed onto the stage sobbing so hard she could barely stand.
Michael gently grabbed her hands to steady her before kissing her cheek quickly.
The girl collapsed to her knees SCREAMING.
actual screaming.
The microphone picked it up and everything.
Jermaine pointed aggressively at the TV.
“SEE?!”
“COMPLETELY OUTTA HAND AND HE LOVING IT TOO.”
Then another clip.
Another concert.
Another fan somehow getting close enough to grab at Michael’s waistband, trying to pull his pants down, before security practically dragged her backward through the air.
Michael jumped back, startled.
Katherine looked horrified.
“These girls have lost their minds.”
Janet had tears running down her face from laughing so hard.
The montage somehow got even crazier.
Clips of girls lifting handmade signs:
“MICHAEL, I SKIPPED MY WEDDING FOR THIS.”
“I WANT YOUR BABIES.”
“STEP ON ME.”
Jermaine looked physically disgusted.
“Why are they acting like this”
Then, one concert clip played that made history.
Michael was dancing near the front of the stage when a woman in the crowd suddenly flashed him.
Michael froze mid-dance.
The crowd SCREAMED.
Michael started laughing
Not even subtle laughing.
Full smile.
Head thrown back.
Trying to keep performing while clearly caught off guard.
— — — — — —
Michael looked unreal onstage.
Sweat dripping slowly down his neck beneath bright lights.
Chains moved against his chest while he danced.
Spinning effortlessly.
Moving like his body was made for music.
The commentators spoke over the footage.
“Fans and critics alike have become fascinated not only with Michael Jackson’s music… but his stage presence.”
“Many are calling him one of the greatest performers of his generation already.”
Then came the interview montage.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Michael sat comfortably in a chair, wearing black sunglasses despite being indoors.
Smiling.
Relaxed.
The interviewer smiled carefully.
“So Michael… you’ve said before that you don’t do dirty dancing.”
Michael nodded immediately.
“That’s right.”
Janet already started yelling.
“Oh, he KNOWS he lying.”
The interviewer grinned.
“Well… on that note, we actually prepared a few clips.”
Michael froze.
“…oh no.”
The screen behind him lit up instantly.
Michael thrusting during concerts.
Grabbing his crotch.
Dropping to his knees.
Humping the stage.
Sweat everywhere.
Fans screaming like the world was ending.
The interview audience LOST IT.
Michael hid his face, laughing immediately.
The interviewer turned back toward him slowly.
“…you don’t dirty dance?”
Michael was laughing too hard to answer.
Then finally:
“No comment.”
“…no comment.”
The audience SCREAMED.
Another interviewer leaned forward afterward.
“You’ve always described yourself as respectful toward women.”
Michael nodded seriously.
“I am.”
“I’m a gentleman, it is how I was raised to be.”
Then the montage started, again. (He's gotta stop all that lying, he was a gentleman though)
Fast clips.
Michael hugging women around the waist.
Pulling fans close while smiling.
Whispering in girls’ ears backstage.
Kissing women’s hands.
Calling women “good fish.”(I love this man so much i-...)
Checking somebody out before immediately trying to act innocent afterward.
The audience was screaming again.
One clip showed Michael walking past a woman before quietly muttering:
“That’s good fish right there.”
The woman literally started CRYING
The same woman during a later interview:
“MICHAEL JACKSON CALLED ME GOOD FISH.”
“ So I’m getting it tattooed on my body.”
The interviewer looked back toward Michael slowly.
“…a gentleman?”
Michael shrugged innocently.
“Well…”
“I’m also a man.”
The next interview clip was somehow even worse.
The interviewer gestured toward a massive screen behind Michael.
“So there seem to be… specific things people obsess over when it comes to you.”
Michael immediately looked suspicious.
Then the clips started rolling.
Close-up of Michael gripping a microphone.
The audience screamed instantly.
The interviewer:
“Apparently… the hands are a very big topic.”
“What I wouldn't give to have those inside of me.”
Michael bent forward, laughing.
Then another clip.
Sweat rolling slowly down his neck during a concert.
Women screaming in the background.
“The neck has also become… surprisingly controversial.”
Even Michael looked shocked now.
“Oh my God”
Then came the abs.
Quick shirt-ripping montage.
The audience practically exploded.
One man in the audience yelled:
“I UNDERSTAND IT NOW.”
Michael was fully crying, laughing at this point.
“I’m literally just standing there”
The interviewer nodded seriously.
“That appears to be enough.”
— — — — — — — —
The interviewer smiled too sweetly.
That was always the warning sign.
Michael sat comfortably in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, sunglasses pushed slightly down his nose, while the audience watched him carefully.
“So Michael,” the interviewer started carefully, “a lot of people are… curious about your personal life lately.”
“Uh oh”
The audience laughed.
The interviewer continued anyway.
“There are rumors about women throwing themselves at you backstage…”
A pause.
“And honestly, after seeing those concert clips, I think everybody wants to know the same thing.”
Michael leaned back slowly.
“And what exactly is that?”
The interviewer smiled.
“Are you actually as innocent as you pretend to be?”
Michael blinked once.
Then twice.
Then:
“What kinda question is that?”
The audience erupted laughing.
The interviewer kept pushing.
“Well, people think your image is very… sweet.”
“But your performances are very suggestive.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“Mhm.”
“So are you secretly a heartbreaker?”
Michael looked genuinely confused.
“Secretly???”
The interviewer laughed harder now.
“So you admit it?”
Michael shrugged.
“I think people project a lotta things onto me.”
“Some of y’all need hobbies.”
The audience absolutely exploded.
Then the interviewer asked the WORST possible question.
“So… are you a virgin?”
The room went SILENT.
Michael stared at her for a full three seconds like he genuinely could not believe what he just heard.
“…you people ask very strange things.”
The interviewer looked embarrassed now, but still laughed awkwardly.
“So that’s a no?”
Michael adjusted his sunglasses calmly.
“That’s a none-of-your-business.”
Then he smiled slightly.
“But thank you for your concern.”
— — — — — — — — —
“So Michael,” she started smoothly, “you’ve become something of a… sex symbol recently.”
The audience screamed immediately.
Michael sighed dramatically.
“Uh oh”
The interviewer laughed.
“No, seriously. Women are losing their minds over you.”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently???”
She gestured toward the crowd.
“Michael, there are people outside this building right now screaming your name.”
Michael shrugged innocently.
“I can’t control that.”
The audience laughed.
The interviewer leaned forward slightly.
“But do you enjoy the attention?”
Michael smiled behind the sunglasses.
“…maybe a little.”
The interviewer continued.
“Fans describe you as charming… seductive…”
Michael immediately pointed at her.
“Now hold on”
The audience erupted laughing again.
“I never said all that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she replied quickly.
“Your concerts said it for you.”
Then the interviewer smiled again.
“There are also rumors that you flirt backstage.”
Michael blinked once.
“…define flirt.”
The interviewer laughed harder now.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Michael leaned back comfortably.
“I’m friendly.”
“Friendly?”
“Mhm.”
“Calling women ‘good fish’ is friendly?”
Michael immediately started laughing again.
One audience member screamed:
“CALL ME GOOD FISH PLEASE”
Michael pointed toward the audience.
“See? They like it.”
The interviewer shook her head, laughing.
“So are you telling me all these women are exaggerating?”
Michael adjusted his sunglasses slowly.
“I think people say a lotta things about me.”
“That’s not a denial.”
Michael smiled.
“That’s because I didn’t deny it”
— — — — — —
A security guard sat in front of the camera, looking completely exhausted.
“I’ve worked concerts for years.”
“I’ve never seen anything like Michael Jackson fans.”
Another guard shook his head immediately.
“No, seriously. These people are DIFFERENT.”
One guard continued:
“One girl jumped onstage, passed out, woke back up, and tried to run toward him AGAIN, slipped, fell, and almost broke her neck.”
Another:
“Somebody stole my walkie-talkie.”
“One woman bit me.”
The interviewer off camera:
“…bit you?”
The guard stared directly into the camera
“BIT ME”
— — — — — — — —
The mansion interview aired last.
The camera followed interviewers through giant black gates while fans screamed outside them.
Then the mansion came into view.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Animals wandering the property.
Michael looked happy.
Not nervous.
Not exhausted.
Happy.
He greeted them wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and no sunglasses for once.
One interviewer smiled carefully.
“You seem… different lately.”
Michael looked down briefly before smiling.
“I feel different.”
The camera quietly caught details around the room.
Another coffee cup was sitting beside his.
A jacket hanging over a chair that clearly didn’t belong to him.
Michael noticed the camera glance toward it and smiled to himself.
Then another interviewer asked:
“So… are you in love?”
Warnings: swearing, paparazzi harassment, age gap discourse, media pressure, chaotic behavior, protective reader, fluff/humor
Tags: michael jackson x reader, black reader, protective reader, chaotic reader, funny reader, media trained michael, public relationship, paparazzi, interview gone wrong, crack treated seriously, fluff, series potential, 90s michael jackson
Taglist: @simply-lovley44 @cocomilaa @blcknebula
inspired by this post @callmeoncette
The flashing cameras almost blinded you the second the two of you stepped out of the black SUV.
“Michael! Michael over here!”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Michael, is the relationship getting serious?”
“Y/N! Y/N!”
Michael’s hand tightened around yours immediately, thumb rubbing softly against your skin in that quiet way he always did whenever crowds got overwhelming.
“You okay?” he murmured softly.
You looked over at him in disbelief.
“Am I okay? Baby, are you okay? They yellin’ like zoo animals.”
Michael physically had to bite back a smile.
“Baby”
“No, because why are they barking at us?”
The interview host standing near the carpet entrance laughed awkwardly before quickly straightening up when Michael looked over.
Michael lowered his head slightly, curls falling near his face as he tried to compose himself.
“C’mon,” he whispered, gently guiding you forward.
The relationship had gone public barely three weeks ago, and the media had been losing their minds ever since.
Not because Michael Jackson had a girlfriend.
But because you were absolutely terrible at public relations.
You didn’t smile politely at rude questions.
You didn’t dodge disrespect.
And you definitely didn’t care about Hollywood etiquette.
Which explained why Michael’s publicist currently looked like she was five seconds away from cardiac arrest.
The interviewer smiled brightly as cameras zoomed in.
“It’s wonderful to have you both here tonight.”
“Thank you,” Michael answered sweetly.
You nodded. “Appreciate it.”
The interviewer turned toward Michael first.
“So Michael, your fans have been very curious about this relationship. It’s definitely surprised a lot of people.”
Michael smiled politely. Calm. Practiced.
“Well, I’m very happy,” he said gently. “She’s very special to me.”
Then the interviewer looked at you.
“And what’s it like dating the biggest star in the world?”
You shrugged.
“He steals my food.”
Michael looked scandalized.
“I do not steal your food.”
“Yes you do.”
“I ask for it.”
“You ask after it’s already halfway gone micheal.”
The interviewer laughed softly.
Michael covered part of his face, already embarrassed.
Then the interviewer made the mistake.
“So…” she started carefully, “there’s obviously been conversation online about your age and maturity level compared to Michael’s. Some people think you may not fully understand the pressure that comes with being with someone like him.”
Michael’s smile dropped instantly.
You felt his hand squeeze yours once.
Warning, begging even...
Please don’t.
“Uh,” Michael started softly, “I don’t really think...”
“And some critics,” the interviewer continued, “have questioned whether you’re prepared for this kind of public relationship.”
Michael inhaled slowly.
“Baby,” he whispered under his breath.
Too late.
You blinked at the woman.
“What kinda stupid-ass question is that?”
The entire audience and crew went silent.
Michael froze beside you.
The interviewer stared.
Cameras zoomed in on you so fast it was almost violent.
You frowned.
“No seriously. How are you qualified to have this job if that’s what you ask people?”
“baby” Michael whispered, horrified.
“I’m serious,” you continued. “Y’all get paid to be weird and disrespectful on television and then act shocked when somebody says something back.”
The interviewer looked absolutely stunned.
“Well, I...”
“And another thing,” you cut in. “Every interview this man does, somebody feels comfortable disrespecting him as long as they smile while doing it.”
Michael looked down at the floor, shoulders already shaking slightly.
“You ask rude questions, pry into his personal life, make slick comments, then try to hide behind professionalism when people call it out. It’s weird.”
The interviewer opened and closed her mouth for a second.
“And now suddenly I’m immature because I’m not sitting here pretending that question wasn’t rude?”
“Baby,” Michael mumbled weakly, “you can’t say that on television.”
“Yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yes I can and I will.”
“And honestly,” you continued, “half the interviews he does feel less like interviews and more like y’all trying to see how uncomfortable you can make him before he reacts.”
Michael physically turned away now, trying to hide the fact that he was laughing.
The interviewer awkwardly cleared her throat.
“S-So Michael… about the question I asked earlier...”
“What she said,” Michael answered immediately.
The interviewer stared at him in disbelief.
Michael finally looked back over at you with the brightest grin you’d seen all night.
--------
By the time the two of you finally made it inside the venue, the tension from the interview had completely shifted.
Mostly because Michael could not stop laughing.
“You embarrassed me,” he whispered as the two of you walked through the hallway toward the backstage area.
You looked at him incredulously.
“I embarrassed you?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, still smiling. “You attacked that poor woman.”
“She attacked you first.”
Michael shook his head, curls bouncing slightly.
“You called her stupid on live television.”
“I said the question was stupid.”
“That is not better.”
You crossed your arms dramatically.
“Well maybe she should stop asking dumb questions then.”
Michael tried to stay serious for about three seconds before another laugh escaped him.
“There you go again,” he mumbled.
“Oh, don’t do that,” you said, pointing at him. “Don’t act so pleased with me now after sitting there acting all shocked.”
“I was shocked!”
“You were laughing!”
“I was trying not to!”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.
“You liked it.”
Michael immediately looked away.
Which told you everything.
Your mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God, you DID like it.”
“I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Michael covered part of his face with one hand, already smiling again.
“You should’ve seen your publicist’s face,” you continued. “That lady looked like she was about to pass out.”
“She probably was.”
“Well maybe next time they’ll stop asking you weird questions.”
Michael slowed down slightly then.
The teasing expression on his face softened into something else, something softer.
Something genuine.
“You really don’t like when people disrespect me, huh?”
You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious.
“Smile,” Will said quickly, leaning in closer, pulling himself into frame with Mike.
Their heads were touching. Will’s smile came easy, like he could pretend this was nothing more than two friends hanging out.
But Mike was still looking at him. Not the camera. Him.
Click.
The flash went off. Will blinked, laughing under his breath as he pulled back just slightly. The countdown for the next photo started.
“Alright, focus,” he said, still smiling. Leaning back in.
Mike doesn't move.
“I can’t,” Mike says nearly against Will’s ear.
He turned his head. Their eyes locked.
Click.
The next flash went off, but neither of them reacted to it. They were too close now. Noses nearly brushing, breath slipping into the same shared space.
“Mike,” he said softly.
“Will,” Mike answered.
Their eyes searched each other. Will couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
Mike reached out and touched Will’s cheek.
“I missed you,” Mike murmured, his gaze flicking down to Will’s lips before lifting again. “so much.”
Click. The flash goes off.
Something in Will sparked all at once. His whole body buzzed, like he’d been thrown back onto one of those spinning rides, except he wasn’t moving at all.
He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. His lips parted, but the words dissolved before they could form. Confusion and want tangled together somewhere beneath his ribs, too knotted to pull apart.
Mike must have seen it on his face, because he nodded, tilting his head as he leaned in.
“Yes,” he whispered, and Will felt the words against his lips. “Just like this. I missed you like this.”
And then Mike kissed him. His arms came around Will and pulled him closer, and the tiger slipped from Will’s hands and fell forgotten to their feet. Will went weak under the kiss.
Click.
The photo booth flashed one last time, catching the moment.
Time cast a spell on you — Chapter 34
Artist: sqnnnvvviii (on TikTok) / shrimphater333 (X)
mike talking about will to everyone literally all the time in college and he's like 3 months in and then finally one of his friends is like "wow you must really love your boyfriend" and mike just shuts up and stops like a deer in headlights because "what no he's my best friend" and then he's like 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩 and that's how he realises he's in love with will byers
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