mafia au
ʟᴏᴡ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇ
synopsis: michael and marlon’s (under)worlds collide after months of not seeing each other. the reunion goes about as well as expected.
ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱʜɪᴘ
synopsis: a look at the events that shaped the jackson boys into the men they are today.
ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴛᴇꜱ ꜱᴡɪɴɢ ᴏᴘᴇɴ
synopsis: if it took him 14 years to find happiness, he could reconcile with that.
ꜱᴛᴀʀ
synopsis: in which michael is more like his brothers than he would like to admit. and he’ll never admit it.
ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴏʟ' ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ
synopsis: you come to me on the day of my father's funeral and ask me to interact with my brothers and sisters? for free? - michael, probably
x reader series
got to get you into my life (michael jackson x reader)
ɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ
synopsis: you and michael have been in a situtationship and you’re hoping he’ll make it official for homecoming.
funeral (marlon jackson x reader)
ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ
synopsis: you thought your day couldn't get any worse after your boyfriend cheated on you. the vampire in the alley decided to test that theory.
funeral pt.2 (marlon jackson x male reader)
ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴘᴛ 2
synopsis: searching for your girlfriend in new orleans leads you to discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed.
mattress king (jackie jackson x reader)
ᴍᴀᴛᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴋɪɴɢ
synopsis: your job at hayvenhurst furniture boutique has its perks.
how your hands feel (marlon jackson x reader)
ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ꜰᴇᴇʟ
synopsis: your big comeback as an adult after a singing career as a child needs to be perfect, but you can't quite execute your vision. thankfully, marlon is there to help.
ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ꜰᴇᴇʟ; ᴍᴀʀʟᴏɴ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ x ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
synopsis: your big comeback as an adult after a singing career as a child needs to be perfect, but you can't quite execute your vision. thankfully, marlon is there to help.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: mdni 18+. fingering, cum swallowing, reader is a virgin, softdom!maron if you squint, porn with a little plot
an: you know...i sit up here thinking certain things that i write are my magnum opus, then i go and write shit like this lmao
“it doesn’t sound realistic.”
you sigh and place your hands on your hips in frustration. the track was a slight…okay, major deviation from your usual work, but as an artist who started as a kid act, you thought it was only right that you made your first debut as an adult come out with a bang.
every label had been scared to sign you after your first contract with epic ended when you were 16. everyone knew you as the bubblegum pop girl with the afro puffs and frilly dresses that danced and sang on screens about crushes and first kisses. no one knew how to market you once it was made very clear that you were no longer that little girl. at 26, you were ready for a comeback and you were sure this was going to be your foot in the door. or at least you could drum up enough publicity for a label to take a chance on the buzz created by your single.
if you could finish the single.
“what do you mean it doesn’t sound realistic? how realistic does a moan need to sound?” you frown as you look through the plexiglass of the recording booth.
you were in marlon jackson’s home studio where he was helping you with production. because no one would touch you with a ten foot pole, you had to reach out to childhood friends for favors. michael was still in hot water for helping berry gordy’s son, and the older jacksons saw you as that little girl who performed on american bandstand with them so many years ago. once they read the lyrics to the song, they awkwardly told you no, with tito outright threatening to tell your mother what you were trying to do.
marlon empathized with you. he knew what it was like to try and fight with a label for what you wanted; he’d done it twice, once with motown and again with epic. the epic situation had been so messy, you weren’t even sure if he would help you after you both discussed it, but he was receptive and you were grateful to him for it.
except for right now.
“you’re whining, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but i can tell you ain’t ever moaned a day in your life,” he said with a laugh.
you sucked your teeth and rolled your eyes, annoyance beginning to build alongside the anxiety you felt with this record. “well, i tried to do it like donna summer…” you mumble, embarrassed.
“wait,” marlon frowned, “you a virgin for real?”
a blush blooms across your face and you’re happy he likely can’t tell due to the light makeup on your brown cheeks. you bit your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “i don’t see why that’s an issue.” you frown.
he cleared his throat and shrugged, “it’s…not, but people are gonna be able to tell your heart isn’t in it.”
you decided to ignore the chuckle that escaped him.
“well then, why don’t you come in here and show me how to do it since you know everything.” you huffed childishly.
“you want me to record a reference track for you?” he asked, smirk playing at his lips.
you narrowed your eyes, “i bet you won’t.”
he pressed the record button and was out of his seat before you could blink. you hadn’t really spoken to marlon in a few years and from what you remembered he was a bit of a joker. it was unfair to put his childhood ways on him as an adult in his mid-twenties, but it was the only frame of reference you had for him outside of seeing a few interviews and performances. the jacksons last three tours had been a deviation from their motown days; see through costumes, with some of the boys going shirtless or ending the show shirtless and more suggestive dancing, despite not all of their lyrics not matching with the vibe. it was an interesting turn to watch. some of it actually inspired your comeback, except you wanted all of the lyrics to match the new aesthetic.
now you were wondering if you had bit off more than you could chew.
marlon entered the booth with a toothy grin and you rolled your eyes at him. he moved in front of the mic, grabbing the extra pair of headphones off of the stand. you could hear your track playing in your ears; a sultry r&b song that would, hopefully, do well on the charts when you finished it.
you just had to finish it.
you decided to take your own headphones off, you didn’t need marlon playing in your ears over the song you wanted so badly to do well. there was a stool in the corner that you decided to sit on and wait for him to finish messing around. you focused on your manicured nails, frowning when you noticed a chip in the french tips you’d only gotten a few days ago. your brief nail inspection was interrupted when you suddenly heard light sighs in the recording booth and your eyes moved up where marlon was still in front of the mic, eyes closed as soft whimpers escaped him.
oh.
his whimpers grew to light whines, but not like you were doing. you sounded as inexperienced as you were, he sounded like he was begging for something without actually saying what he was begging for. though, you supposed you could guess. you felt something warm in your belly, and shifted on the stool, frowning at the slick feeling in your panties. you weren’t so inexperienced that you didn’t know what was happening, but you were surprised by your reaction.
this was marlon jackson. the last conversation you two had before you asked him to help you out with your single was about gummy worms. sure you watched him grow from that kid into the man who was rolling his hips on stage and you supposed it wasn’t fair to keep him in a box the way everyone else had done to you when you were dropped on your ass for being a “kid act”.
but this was a lot for you to handle right now.
he was full on moaning now, breath hitching as if he was getting ready to…
you brought your lip between your teeth, and squeezed your thighs together, trying to create some kind of friction between you and the stool. dirty wasn’t quite the word you wanted to use about how you felt in the moment, but it fit.
marlon let out a ragged breath, his shoulders relaxing with a final exhale and he turned to you with a smile on his face as if he hadn’t just given the filthiest performance of his life over your song. his smile faded a bit and his tilted his head at you, “you okay?”
“fine.” you squeaked.
“you’re all flushed.” he pointed out.
“it’s hot.”
“the air is on,” he laughed, “c’mon i think i gave you enough for a reference. why don’t you try it?”
there was no way he was going to act casual after that. you waited for him to leave, but when he didn’t you raised an eyebrow, “are you gonna go back to the soundboard?” you asked him.
“did i freak you out that much? my bad.” he laughed, “i just thought i’d stay just in case…you really can get up from the stool. i don’t bite.”
“it’s comfy,” you say with a smile.
“you sure you’re okay? i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” he’s frowning now and you feel bad because you were uncomfortable, just not in the way he thought you were.
slowly, you get up from the stool, cursing yourself for wearing a skirt and stand directly in front of him, not daring to move an inch further. “see, i’m fine. now let’s…record.” you say with a tense smile.
“cool, the track is looping so you can go do your thing. i’ll be over here—”
“don’t!” you grabbed his arm as he went over to the stool, presumably to sit, “why don’t you sit…there?”
you point to the floor and he looks at you as if you lost your mind. frankly, he wouldn’t be wrong because you were beginning to think you were losing it too. the thought of trying to explain your precarious grip on reality to marlon made you want to cry, and all because he just moaned for 5 minutes in his recording studio.
or maybe it was something else making you want to cry.
“i’m not sitting on the floor,” he laughed as he went over to the stool and looked at it.
you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. the silence is deafening and you can feel his judgement. agony begins to build in your chest and you just know he's going to kick you out.
“hey, look at me.” you hear him say.
his voice is soft, reassuring even and you slowly bring your hands down from your face, feeling your eyes burn from the thought of seeing his disgusted face. the tears are welling before you could even get a good look at him and you quickly bat your eyes, trying to will them away. when you blink a few times, your blurred vision clearing, you can see him standing there looking at you with genuine concern.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, “you embarrassed about this?”
he brings his index and middle fingers up and spreads them, your arousal clear as day. you feel your face burn and the tears threaten to come again. “marlon i—”
“you what? you’re sorry?” he sticks one finger in his mouth, then the other and you can’t help but watch in fascination as those plump lips close around them before he pulls them back out, “you don’t have to apologize for that.”
he walks over to you and you just stand there in shock at what he’d just done. you wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming, but your arms felt like deadweight. “here,” he positions you behind the mic as if you’re a puppet, and you’re so dazed you might as well be.
“let’s try something.”
marlon places your headphones back over your ears and exits the booth for a moment. you hope he doesn’t want you to sing right now, because your voice is stuck in your throat and you know if you even attempt to open your mouth you might just cry. you try to imagine that little boy you argued with over gummy worms, but you kept seeing him. over the years you would watch him and his brothers even after you were dropped. it was hard to escape them, they were popular from the time marlon and michael were in elementary school all the way up until they were in their 20s. they all grew into handsome young men, but you had never noticed marlon like that.
and now.
now you didn’t know what to think.
you were so consumed by your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed marlon re-entering the booth or the fact that your track and started from the intro again. marlon stood in front of you, smirk on his face and you gaped at him, unsure of what was going to happen next.
“i’m gonna touch you, and you’re gonna record okay?” he said, not breaking eye contact.
“okay.” you mumbled.
“you gotta stop crying mama, i’m not mad at you for messing up my stool. i can always clean that up.” his hands were in your waist, “let me know if you want me to stop and we will.”
you can only nod. he gives you a reassuring smile as you feel his right hand leave your waist and disappear under your skirt. in your headphones you hear his soft, short breaths starting from what he recorded earlier and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. he tugs at your panties, slowly pulling them down around your thighs and you can feel the air hit you, causing a short gasp to escape your lips. he just nods in encouragement and continues, using his fingers to open you up.
his thumb brushes against your clit and you cry out, only for him to stop. you try to rock into his thumb again, a whine leaving you as you do, but it was already gone, his middle and index finger taking over to continue to work you open. this time a breathier whine leaves you, and you continue watching his face as he stares into your eyes, tongue running over his bottom lip. you realize he isn’t going to say anything until you’re done recording so you use his recorded moans as encouragement. you gasp when you feel those long, thick fingers inside of you and can’t hep but to clench down around him, moans rolling out of your mouth in ways you never thought they could.
you’d tried this on yourself before, not quite knowing what you were doing and embarrassingly nothing had really come from it, but this. this was different. this had you making noises that would make you blush any other day. hell, marlon had made you blush not too long ago with his own vocalizations.
finally his thumb finds your clit again and you make little keening noises, panting into the microphone like you’re trying to catch your breath after a run. there’s electricity running through your body as you try to buck into him, but he holds you steady never once taking those brown eyes off of you. there’s a brief moment when you were just making rhythmic humming noises, sounding like a harmony to marlon’s own moaning. you’re in the groove, the track in your ears taking you to ecstasy along with marlon’s expert ministrations, but, suddenly , he pulls out and your breath hitches as if you’re about to cry.
the static in your head and the tightness in your stomach felt stuck, as if something was supposed to come next but your body wasn’t sure what to do. “d-don’t stop,” you whine, and he just watches you as you stare pleadingly with you, “please don’t stop…”
you’re ready to beg if he wants you to. track be damned. dignity be damned. he has to finish.
you move your own hand down and he slips his hand off of his waist to stop you, shaking his head. you groan and whine and you think you might even start crying again. you felt undone standing in front of him, clenching your thighs together and squirming around hoping to build that friction back up so you can just…
“please, please, please,” you beg him pressing against his chest and nearly knocking into the mic.
he thumbs at your clit again and you’re gasping, wishing he would just let you feel his fingers again, even if it was just one. all you need was one more.
as if reading your thoughts, he finally inserts one then two fingers and you’re damn near trying to fuck them, sobbing because you never thought you could feel like this. there was no doubt in your mind that the track was ruined; you could not release this, but you could keep it…for reference. his name is on your lips as you feel yourself beginning to climax, and he must’ve watched your lips form an ‘m’, because he silences you with a kiss and you’re moaning into his mouth, gasping against his lips and clenching down on his fingers trying to ride out your orgasm.
“hey, hey, you okay?”
“no…” you sob.
“what’s wrong baby?” he questions, kissing your face every time a tear fell.
“i can’t send this to the radio…”
he laughs and you feel him pull his fingers from inside of you. you whimper, trying to press your thighs together again and he’s still laughing, “let me go babygirl, i wanna taste you again.”
you release his fingers then and watch as he does exactly what he said. seeing those lips wrap around his fingers makes you feel feral but you try to tamp that down. you can’t have him thinking you were already sprung just because he was the first person to finger you. the minute his fingers were out of his mouth, you kiss him, chasing the taste of yourself.
so much for trying to preserve even a little of your dignity.
“you can record your verses after we get cleaned up, and i can cut around this,” he says when you both come up for air.
“uh, what parts are you going to cut around because it’s all a little…much,” you say, the embarrassment from earlier creeping up on you again.
“my parts obviously and the more…realistic shit, because you sounded like something i'd have to buy in a back alley from a guy in a trench coat.” he laughed and you swat his arm.
“just for that, you have to leave yours in. i think we harmonize pretty well.” you say with a cheeky grin.
he raises a thick eyebrow, a playful smile on his face, “if you say so.”
a few months later as you and marlon hear your song on the radio for the first time, you swear you can also hear twin yells of both of your full names across los angeles county from voices that sound suspiciously like both of your mothers’.
synopsis: you come to me on the day of my father's funeral and ask me to interact with my brothers and sisters? for free? - michael, probably
word count: 6k
warnings: desecration of human remains...kinda lol
an: finally at the main story. proofread to an alarming degree so if you see a typo or sumn no you didn't lol i'm not looking at or editing this no more.
1991, encino, california
the press was outside of the gate of the home bill drove them to and justine had never been happier for tinted windows. cameras flashed and reporters held their microphones out to the closed windows, as they asked muffled questions to michael.
michael was more than just a successful businessman, he was also a very well-known philanthropist and regularly made his rounds to galas and luncheons for various humanitarian organizations. his popularity with the press wasn’t a surprise, but how they had known he would be here was a mystery. justine knew how calling the press worked, she had done it on a few occasions at michael’s request. press calls typically came after insignificant controversies, like the time he accidentally offended a city official who went on to make a big deal out of it. the press was outside of his “private” charity event the very next day and the story with the city official went away.
justine had suggested to bill that maybe he hire a publicist after that debacle, but bill just shook his head and told her that was more trouble than it was worth. the press could be your best friend or worst enemy and michael knew how to work them in his favor.
“he has a gift,” bill had laughed.
when bill parked, justine peered out of the car window at the other cars in the driveway. a rolls royce, much like the one they were in, a mercedes, two lexus’, one an ls 400, the other an sc coup. she spotted a cherry red bmw with the license plate ‘tito’ and wondered who exactly they were coming to see. michael didn’t clear his schedule for just anyone, and while she had to assume this was about his family due to the call from his brother, she wondered why she was being asked to tag along. it wasn’t rare for her to make arrangements for matters in michael’s personal life. the details were always vague, but if he had a dinner in los angeles with an unknown man who she only knew by the initials “sej”, then she charted the helicopter and made the reservations.
maybe this was no different from that.
the car door opened and bill was standing there, smiling down at justine. “done being nosy?” he asked.
her face burned in embarrassment as she exited in the car. “this is your first time at hayvenhurst, huh?”
“yeah, i um…” justine frowned, “bill, what exactly am i doing here?”
they both watched as michael emerged from the car and shut his own door. he seemed to be deep in thought as he stared at the house ahead of him. it was a beautiful home with carefully maintained grounds tucked into the encino hills. justine had never seen anything like it; even though she regularly drove past the mansions of the rich and famous, there was something about hayvenhurst that just screamed home.
“michael doesn’t ask things of people for no reason,” bill says as he turns his attention to the house, “this place has a lot of good and bad memories for him and sometimes he just needs…grounding.”
“i’m his assistant. what can i offer—”
“stability, organization, attention to detail, and reliability. all the things i hired you for.”
justine and bill both looked up, startled, at michael who looked amused for the first time that day. he gestured for them to continue toward the house, “shall we?” he questioned.
bill shook his head and laughed as he shut the other door, “you heard the man.”
the three made their way up to the front porch of the estate and michael pressed the doorbell. a faint “i’m coming!” was heard from the other side.
“is that arlene? i thought she retired,” bill said, straightening his collar and smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.
michael let out a snort and justine looked over at her boss to see if the noise had actually come from him. the amount of information she had been learning about him was beginning to overwhelm her.
who was this man?
the door opened and the short, older woman on the other side of it immediately lit up as she shuffled out of the door to wrap michael in a hug. he let out a light ‘oof’ when she grabbed him and didn’t hesitate to hug her back, a smile gracing his lips. “i oughta close the door on you, boy! why is this the first time i’m seeing you in so long?” she chided him, though playfully.
“i know arlene, i know and i’m sorry. it’s been busy lately, but i’ll do better. promise,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
she let go of him and gave him a look only an exasperated mother could before she turned to bill. her expression could be read as nothing other than amusement. “well look what the cat dragged in. bill, you don’t look a day over 70.” she laughed.
“nice to see you too arlene.” bill smiled as he wrapped her up in his arms.
justine noticed his red cheeks and turned to michael who looked as if he was holding back laughter.
“and who might this beautiful girl be?” arlene questioned as she broke her hug with bill. she gave justine a once over and then her head snapped to michael, “am i finally getting grandkids out of you? wait until i tell katy. and you know marlon's girlfriend just had another baby. it'll be like having another mikey and mar—”
“arlene, she is my assistant. i do still need to make sure everything runs smoothly while i’m here,” michael gave justine an embarrassed smile, “this is justine baker, justine this is arlene vernon. she’s been the house manager here since i was child, but now she’s mostly just my mother's gossip partner.”
arlene swatted his arm and turned back to justine, wrapping her up in a hug, “welcome to hayvenhurst. maybe you can get this one to finally loosen his tie and relax.”
justine hugged her back and thanked her for her welcome. to say she was overwhelmed in the moment was an understatement. somewhere between the ranch and hayvenhurst, she must’ve been swept up in a tornado and dropped in an alternate version of california. bill was always kind to her, taking her under his wing allowing for a smooth transition into her job as an assistant. michael kept her at arm’s length, not that she expected anything more from him as her boss. it was just jarring for him to be taking her to his childhood home and showing a side of himself that she never would’ve thought existed.
they entered the home and arlene led them through the main foyer and into a living room. everyone in the room was well-dressed in all black, three wore sunglasses despite the fact that they were indoors and one was in black mink coat. there were bouquets and wreaths everywhere, and if justine had to guess she would say they were walking into a funeral.
“michael…” she began, but stopped when every head in the room turned to them.
“oh my god, he got married!” a petite woman shouted, as she popped up from the couch like a jack-in-the-box, “i told you janet! you owe me a corvette!”
justine turned to bill, who laughed quietly at the commotion.
“michael, you told me i would be your best woman but you go and elope,” she walked so fast, she looked like a black blur, colliding into justine like an out of control rocket, “welcome to the family, i’ve always wanted a sister around my own age. we can go shopping—”
“la toya,” michael said as he held back a laugh, “she’s not my wife, she’s my assistant. justine.”
la toya backed away from justine and looked up at her brother with her eyes narrowed. “oh wait, are you the one who sent me posies on my birthday?”
justine, who was beyond mortified by the greeting from michael’s sister, shook her head in silence and looked past la toya to see the amused faces behind her. those same smirks and smiles she recognized immediately as resembling the one michael currently held on his face.
“that was charity and she was fired at your request.” michael reminded her.
la toya raised an arched eyebrow at her brother then looked back at justine and engulfed her in another hug. “welcome to the family justine, any capable employee of my brother is a sibling of mine. are you married? my brothers are chronically single and being a bachelor when you’re as old as they are is, frankly, embarrassing. and no marlon shacking up with your baby mama doesn’t count either.”
“tell me how you really feel.” a man, who justine guessed was marlon, said with a laugh.
“love her to death, i promise.”
“oh, she knows.”
“seriously though, jackie is getting up there, so consider it.” la toya whispered in her ear.
“um…okay?” justine whispered as she pat la toya, awkwardly, on the back.
“toya, i think you’ve scared her enough,” michael said, placing his hand on the small of justine’s back.
the gentle touch made justine’s eyes widen briefly, before she was able to school her features. she suddenly missed la toya’s bone crushing hug.
“fine. excuse me for being excited for my baby brother to be the first jackson to get married since rebbie. i mean, do you know how long ago that was?” la toya sighed as she waltzed back over to the couch and plopped down next to marlon.
“justine, these are my siblings,” michael gestured to the bunch as if he were presenting to the chairman of a board of directors, “rebbie, jackie, tito, jermaine, latoya, marlon, randy and janet,”
“…hi,” justine said with a nervous wave, “i’m sorry i’m intruding on your...funeral?”
“no need to apologize, it’s just joe.” marlon said with a shrug.
there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips like he wanted to laugh, but held it in to the best of his ability.
“marlon.”
“tito,” marlon mocked his brother, “it was only a matter of time.”
justine wondered what he meant by that. there was a possibility that this joe person had been sick for a while and the siblings had known it was coming. she knew that feeling, watching her own mother deteriorate before passing two years prior. it was what prompted her sudden move to california with no job lined up, support system or even a place to stay. she needed a new start and the only way to get it was by taking a flying leap. that leap of faith landed her on a secluded ranch in santa barbara with a reclusive businessman that paid her entirely too much for an entry level position.
“it was only a matter of time,” michael chimed in, “which is why i have to ask, which one of you did it?”
the argument that had ensued after michael accused his siblings of murder made justine fully aware of why he never talked about them. the amusement he held as he handled la toya’s…eccentricities and introduced them all as if there was no bad blood made her think everything between them was good.
she learned pretty quickly that everything was not good between them and also that this joseph person was not only joe jackson, a notorious racketeer who ran labor unions with an iron fist, he was also the jackson siblings' father. his name had been plastered all over newspapers in the mid to late 80s due to the rising crackdowns on organized crime. as gangs rose in the early 70s, the crime families began to lose power. joe lasted a lot longer in the game than he should have before the law caught up to him. his court case had ended in a mistrial and before they could retry him he fled the country and fell into obscurity. his death hadn’t even been reported until the day of the funeral, judging by the press outside the hayvenhurst gates. justine had been so wrapped up in work, she hadn’t had time to even look at the newspaper that day.
maybe then she wouldn’t have felt so blindsided by the news and could have made the connection herself.
“now why would you go and ask something like that, michael?” rebbie questioned, a frown on her face.
“maureen,” la toya laughed, “you were stuck up in bumfuck kentucky so long you forget who we’re talking about here. your brothers aren’t saints, hell, neither are you. don’t forget what joseph had you and me doing in ‘76. i wouldn’t be surprised if you did it, especially with how willing you were to be involved back then.”
“la toya, don’t talk to her like that.” janet frowned.
la toya simply shrugged, a look of indifference on her face.
“what did joseph have yall doing in ‘76?” tito asked, eyebrows raised so high justine thought they might jump off of his face.
rebbie cleared her throat, “it’s in the past, toriano. let’s drop it.”
tito looked like he didn’t want to drop it, but sat back in his seat when jackie gestured for him to stop.
“how do we know michael didn’t do it?” jermaine cut in, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
michael turned to his brother, “jermaine, if you thought i did it, why’d you call me to announce it? you’re all here for the funeral which means someone planned it and knew prior to today. and if you really think i did it, you can leak another article to the press about it.”
jermaine scowled, “i already told you, i didn’t know that guy was a journalist!”
“swing and a miss.” marlon snorted.
“marlon you’ve threatened to do it over the years,” jermaine whirled around to his brother, “and you’re the one with the skillset to pull it off.”
“you’re right ‘maine, i did it in the ballroom with a candlestick. congratulations, you won clue.” marlon said sarcastically causing la toya to laugh out loud.
justine coughed to cover her own laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. she felt michael’s hand move on the small of her back and stilled, refusing to look up at his face out of embarrassment.
“joseph had enemies so let’s not go around accusing each other.” tito said with a tone of finality, glancing over at michael with a disappointed frown.
michael’s hand tensed and that was when justine looked up at him, frowning at the expression on his face. she was getting the idea that he didn’t like upsetting tito.
“and fighting will only upset mother,” jackie pointed out.
jermaine shook his head, clearly not done, “michael started it.”
“and now it’s finished. dead it.”
“like joseph.”
“marlon.” tito snapped.
la toya and marlon high-fived each other but said nothing else.
“michael, why don’t you go see mother? you know arlene already told her you’re here,” janet suggested quietly.
he only nodded in response and guided justine out of the room. bill stayed and made his way over to the siblings to greet them.
justine wondered exactly how long bill had been a part of his life if he knew his estranged brothers and sisters. she knew he had been around since, at least, michael’s early twenties if the employee gossip back at the ranch was anything to go by.
“i’m sorry about that.” he said once they left the room.
he led her to the base of a staircase and paused, turning to look down at her. she couldn’t read his expression, though, she supposed she never really could before today. justine had seen him be everything from amused to a scolded child in the span of an hour and now he was back to the stoic businessman she worked for in santa barbara. it made her feel lost in how to navigate dealing with this moment. she got the idea that she didn’t need to offer comfort or condolences for his father; he didn’t seem to be affected by it. his issues with his siblings seemed to vary, so she didn’t know how to start there either. hopefully seeing his mother would help him in the ways she couldn’t. not that an assistant really could help outside of arranging a therapy session.
their professional lines were beginning to blur in ways she didn’t like.
“you don’t need to apologize for your family michael. grief makes people say and do crazy things.” justine gave him a reassuring smile.
“i’m apologizing for myself. bringing you here made me think that my brothers and sisters would behave themselves, but i’ve been away for so long i forgot they don’t know what good behavior is.” he said with a small smile, “and when i get around them, i lose all sense of what it means myself.”
justine raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t question it. he had started the argument with his siblings by outright asking if one of them had murdered their father. whatever made him start there made her think the bad blood went deeper than she initially thought.
“michael…” she began as he led her up the stairs, “do you really think one of your siblings did something to your father?”
he looked thoughtful for a moment, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. it made him look less like her boss and, once again, like an embarrassed child rooting around for an excuse for his actions. “you know joseph the crime boss who bucked the criminal justice system and fled. we know him a little differently,” he paused, “they would be justified if they did do it. i wouldn’t blame them…maybe i should’ve said it that way.”
justine smiled a little and turned to him when they reached the top step, “yeah, maybe you should have. you can still apologize.”
“after i see mother. c’mon,” he lapsed into a less formal speech pattern, “she’s right down the hall.”
as they walked down the hallway, justine couldn’t help but admire the architecture and decor of the home. it was tastefully decorated, not too over the top. she had watched enough “lifestyles of the rich and famous” to know that being rich didn’t come with a sense of style. the gaudy “return to the gilded age” decor that the older, wealthy elite loved was tacky in her eyes. gold appliqués on white walls and gold plated mirrors with intricate designs weren’t her cup of tea.
hayvenhurst felt like a home and not a museum exhibit for a french royal. she appreciated that.
michael brought her to a door at the end of the hallway and knocked twice, waiting for the person on the other side to speak. when no response came he frowned, “mother, it’s michael.”
footsteps were heard immediately after that and the door flew open. justine frowned at the red rimmed eyes of the woman who answered hidden behind a pair of eyeglasses. she had no time to take anything else in as the woman, who she assumed to be michael’s mother, threw her arms around him. he didn’t hesitate to hug her back, burying his nose in her hair and rubbing her back. “i won’t scold you in front of company, so welcome home,” she sniffled into his shoulder.
“i’m sorry, mother,” michael said softly and justine wondered if he was apologizing for her grief or for not visiting often enough.
“i know you’re busy, you all are, but…” she paused and broke their hug, her eyes settling on his face as she took him in, “make time mikey, okay?”
he nodded, “i will. i promise.”
“now, please introduce me to your friend. pardon my manners, sweetheart,” she said as she gave justine a warm smile. her wet eyes betrayed her as tears collected at her waterline and threatened to spill over her cheeks.
“mother this is justine, my assistant. justine this is my mother, katherine jackson.”
justine knew this was the katherine receiving money from michael once a month. why her last name was different on the checks she prepared, she wasn’t sure. “it’s nice to meet you mrs. jackson,” she smiled politely.
“oh, please, call me katherine.” she said and gestured for justine to give her a hug.
michael watched them both embrace, a small smile pulling at his lips. “i’m sure you’re both hungry. i had bernadette hold lunch until you came.” katherine pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, “your siblings weren’t too happy about that.”
“you didn’t have to do that.” michael shook his head, but justine could tell he secretly loved the attention.
“jermaine does say that i spoil you.”
he rolled his eyes, “jermaine’s a schmuck.”
“michael.”
justine laughed. “sorry mother,” michael chuckled softly, “are you joining us?”
“no, i have some more arrangements to make. your father left a few surprises behind.”
his smile dropped from his face and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “what kind of surprises?”
“none that you should worry your pretty little head about. you’ll know when the time is right, i need to find a way to tell your siblings. they all have differing…temperaments.” she said with a sigh.
michael could only nod in agreement. “alright, well i’ll bring something up for you later.”
“thank you mikey, and it was nice meeting you justine. i hope you’re able to enjoy your stay while you’re here.” katherine said as she re-entered her room.
when the door closed michael glanced down at justine, and she tried to read his expression but failed to decipher it. she raised a manicured eyebrow at him and waited for him to break the silence.
“well, are you ready for lunch?” he questioned finally.
“michael,” she paused as she attempted to find the right words to use, “how deeply are…or were you and your siblings involved with your father’s affairs?”
“justine,” he said, his tone was light as he bent down toward her ear, “don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. because if i tell you, everything changes.”
she swallowed, but refused to back away from him, “like what?”
he straightened and gave her a small smile, “how about we eat first? i’m sure you’re hungry.”
justine fixed him with a frustrated look. “michael i am your employee. i schedule your meetings and answer your phone, this is out of the scope of my job description. i thought you needed me here to do my job, not whatever this is.”
“what did i tell you when you asked bill why i brought you here?” he questioned, his eyes never leaving hers.
she was finding it hard to hold eye contact with him, but refused to be the first to back down. her frustration emboldened her to not look weak in front of him. she may have been his assistant, but she was still a person, something more than just an employee that could be dragged along to different parts of california to deal with her employer’s family issues.
“you hired me for my stability, organization, attention to detail, and reliability.” she repeated his words from earlier, verbatim.
“if i didn’t need you, i wouldn’t have asked you to come. you would still be back at the ranch, eating that peanut butter sandwich you bring everyday,” amusement danced in his eyes, “understood?”
justine blinked a few times, her frustration melting away to shock, “don’t speak to me as if i’m a child. not after i watched you behave like one with your brothers and sisters.”
he stood up straight, a soft laugh escaping him as he did, “how about that lunch?”
the lunch prepared for them had been a lot better than the peanut butter sandwich currently sitting in the tin lunch box on justine’s desk back in santa barbara. not that she would ever admit that to michael.
a spread of croissant sandwiches, antipasto, and tea cakes took up the expanse of the dining room table everyone congregated at to eat. bill had taken his lunch in the kitchen with arlene much to justine’s amusement. she had never once seen the man behave like he had a crush on anyone.
she had to admit it was cute.
the jackson siblings seemed to be over the argument michael caused earlier, all having conversations amongst themselves as if they hadn’t been accusing each other of murder. even michael made small talk where he could. justine noticed he avoided specific brothers in his conversations, namely jermaine and he and marlon seemed to talk around each other. they would never directly address one another, while somehow responding to each other. if anyone else noticed they didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it.
justine found it fascinating how they were able to pull it off.
“is the food good?”
justine looked to her left at michael and nodded, “it’s great, ms. bernadette did an amazing job.”
he watched her face for a few seconds then picked up a napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth. justine’s eyes widened in embarrassment. “you should’ve just told me i had something on my face.”
“you have something on your face,” he said with a cheeky smile.
“you’re lucky we don’t have an hr department.” she muttered angrily, fixing him with a glare.
michael shrugged, “we do, actually. me.”
justine simply gaped at him as he stood up and asked for his siblings’ attention, a comeback dying on her tongue.
“i wanted to apologize for earlier. i didn’t mean to accuse anyone of anything.” he said as his eyes swept over his brothers’ and sisters’ faces.
“we know you didn’t mean it mikey.” jackie said with a reassuring smile.
“so can we all be cordial with each other from here on out?” tito asked the group, “i don’t like ya’ll cuttin’ up in front of company.”
“you can be specific tito, clearly you’re talking about three people,” randy said, stuffing a piece of cake in his mouth.
“instigating counts as ‘cuttin’ up’.” marlon pointed out his attention on his pager.
“it does, so shut up randy,” tito nodded.
janet laughed at her brother who in turn flicked her on the forehead. tito went to scold randy further while marlon slipped out of the room with his pager still glued to his hands. “you would think no one raised that boy with any manners.” rebbie commented, with a shake of her head.
when randy opened his mouth to comment, tito shut him up again.
justine was pulled from her people watching by a tap on the shoulder and looked up to see michael with a covered plate in his hands. “i’m going to take this to mother. you okay down here?” he asked her.
she narrowed her eyes at the amusement in his own, “do i have a choice in the matter, boss?”
“would you like for me to make watching my siblings one of your tasks?”
“you planning on giving me a bonus for that?” she tilted her head to the side in curiosity.
“anything you want,” he said, squeezing her shoulder with his free hand, “i’ll be back.”
when justine turned back to the table, all of michael’s brothers and sisters were staring at her with, what felt like, the same exact smile on their faces. she hadn’t even noticed when marlon sat back down, but even he was leveling her with an amused look.
“you sure you two aren’t a thing?” la toya asked.
“no we’re not, we’ve just been…messing around.” justine could feel her face heating up as she realized what she said, “i mean, joking. we’ve been joking around.”
“i’m usually not one to pry into my siblings’ affairs,” la toya started, earning a cacophony of teeth kissing, groans and scoffs from the table, “but when michael does grace us with his presence, it’s never with a woman, let alone an assistant. he didn’t bring chastity around once.”
“her name was charity, toy.” janet said with a sigh, “and leave justine alone. if michael wants to bring her around, he can.”
justine sent a silent thanks to janet as she tried to disappear into her seat. a welcome distraction came when jermaine decided to address his siblings by tapping his water glass with a spoon. she caught tito and jackie rolling their eyes at his antics and wondered exactly what everyone’s deal with him was. she supposed every family had a problem child, but so far at least three of the siblings exhibited that behavior.
“i think we should at the very least be trying to figure out who did this.”
“why kick a hornet’s nest, jermaine?” jackie questioned, “it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
“has anyone seen the body?” la toya asked.
“he was cremated.” tito said.
marlon whistled, looking at everyone over a pair of prescription glasses. “yeah, that ain’t him.”
justine hadn’t even noticed when he switched out his aviators. he seemed to move entirely too quickly and quietly for someone who drew so much attention when he spoke up about something.
“how the hell do you know that?” tito frowned.
“the urn is full of sawdust.” marlon shrugged as if it was the most obvious explanation.
rebbie put her hand over her mouth, “you dumped out our father’s ashes?”
“i dumped out sawdust,”
“marlon,”
“that is indeed my name tito.”
“i thought when we sent you to that shrink, you were doing better.”
“i’m fine, haven’t had murder on my mind since ‘85…ish.”
“you sell weapons illegally. weapons that are typically used in murders.” randy pointed out.
“but i do not get high on my own supply. also, no one at this table does anything legally so why are we harping on what i’m doing?”
tito gave him an exasperated look, “because you dumped our father’s ashes!”
“sawdust and i put it back. no harm no foul.well, i suppose it was foul to do that if it was actually him…but it isn’t, so i’m good.”
“he copes with humor.” janet whispered to justine.
“ah,” justine nodded as she watched the exchange.
“janet i can hear you and i do not like how much you sound like my therapist,” marlon looked at justine, “i promise i’m not crazy.”
“only someone crazy would dump out ashes to make sure they’re ashes.” randy said.
“sawdust.”
randy nodded, “that you were told was ashes.”
“we can keep circling back to that, but the fact remains that it’s sawdust.”
“okay fine, let’s say it is sawdust—” tito started with a roll of his eyes.
“it is.”
“what does this change? on paper he’s dead, mother’s getting his affairs in order. lets just make peace with it and move on.”
“i agree with tito.” jackie said.
marlon didn’t seem to be done and continued on, “because if joseph faked his death after escaping prosecution here to a country with no extradition that means he’s in some shit and is likely moving as we speak.”
“he’s not wrong,” randy pointed out.
“i’m never wrong,” marlon scoffed, “you have one nervous breakdown in your twenties and you never get taken seriously again.”
“to be fair…” rebbie began.
“you’re not about to be fair.”
she rolled her eyes, “we can never tell when you’re being serious.”
“okay… that was a fair assessment, i’ll give you that,” marlon conceded, “but, i wouldn’t joke about something like this.”
“so all the times you threatened to do it, you meant it?” jermaine accused, “how do we know this isn’t some elaborate plot?”
“plot for what? i have nothing to gain from killing joseph or helping him fake his death. but i know you would do anything to get back in his good graces.” marlon shrugged, “you should try therapy jermaine, it worked for me.”
“did it?” randy laughed.
“yes, randy because had this been a few years ago i would’ve shot you in the ass, then you’d have two bullets in your ass.” marlon said casually.
janet leaned over to justine again, “a madame at a brothel chased him down the block and shot him in the ass.”
justine just nodded, her concern for the jackson family growing more and more by the minute. “she didn’t shoot me in the ass, she shot at me!” randy snapped.
“she grazed a cheek. she shot you in the ass.” la toya giggled.
“okay, that’s…enough everyone.” tito looked as if he was trying to be serious, but couldn’t hide the laugh threatening to spill from his lips, “it’s fine to keep your eyes and ears open but we’re not gonna look too deep into this, joseph possibly being alive, mess.”
michael chose that exact moment to show his face again and sat down next to justine. the siblings were eerily silent, faces a perfect mask of neutrality as if they hadn’t been discussing the possibility of their deceased father still being alive. if michael noticed their silence or expressionless faces, he didn’t say anything about it.
“everything okay?” he asked justine.
“great.” she said, showing too much enthusiasm, much to the chagrin of the rest of thee jacksons.
“did they say something to you?”
“no.”
“so they ignored you?”
“no! they were perfectly…normal.”
“so you’re still not telling the truth…”
he looked so pleased with himself and justine wanted to knock the cheeky smirk off of his face.
“did he just call us weird?” la toya whispered to marlon.
“he would not be wrong.” marlon said, patting his sister’s shoulder.
“michael can we talk for a moment?” justine questioned.
the day was beginning to get the best of her. what started as a normal day behind her desk outside of michael’s office door, had become the strangest and most difficult task she could’ve ever taken on as a receptionist. she had learned so much and yet so little about her boss and his family that it was beginning to feel as though she was being integrated into the family.
she left one crazy family after her mother’s passing, she was not looking to adopt a new one.
michael simply nodded and waited for her to stand before leading her into the den so they could speak without interruption. he pulled her over to the couch and they sat down, making themselves comfortable. justine watched michael’s face noting that he looked more open, less like he usually did. being home and around his mother could’ve done that for him, she supposed. he seemed to really love being around katherine despite the fact that he didn’t visit often. she wasn’t sure, but she guessed his siblings didn’t live in the house, so it couldn’t be that he was avoiding them at all.
she wondered what was keeping him away.
“i need you to tell me what’s going on right now. what did you bring me here to do?” justine questioned, her hands clasped in her lap so she didn’t fiddle with her skirt.
michael watched her, his gaze steady, but she didn’t look away from him. before today, she would’ve called him intimidating, but after she saw so many different sides of him she refused to be. whatever his motivations were for this, justine couldn’t make heads or tales of, but she knew she needed to get out of whatever tangled web he was weaving between her and his family. “if i told you, i brought you here because there’s a price on your head due to your proximity to me, would you believe me?” he questioned, his expression neutral as if he were talking about the weather or how the traffic back to santa barabra would be.
justine tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow, “that isn’t funny, michael.”
synopsis: in which michael is more like his brothers than he would like to admit. and he'll never admit it.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: non-graphic depictions of gun injuries, mentions of guns, murder and child abuse.
an: getting into the michael of it all we're finally in the main story timeline at the end of this lol
1979, hollywood, california
“the irish and the italians are about to kill each other and the fbi will take care of the rest…”
michael half listened to the phone call between quincy and some associate as he sat in one of the man’s plush office chairs. they had just completed one of the biggest projects of michael’s life and he, for some reason, felt as though there was still something missing.
infiltrating and destroying a crime outfit was no small feat, but michael had done it without compromising too many of his morals. quincy always found it funny how self-righteous he could get while actively working in their criminal enterprise, but michael did feel conflicted at times. his brothers were good, maybe too good, at engaging in criminal behavior. he was never quite able to turn on that cruelty or tap into that meanness that allow him to fully take advantage of someone by loaning them money at inflated interest rates, kill someone in cold blood, threaten workers and withhold their benefits for not bootlicking a corrupt union, or…whatever it was randy was into these days.
he should really check up on him.
suffice it to say, michael was not like his brothers, but he also wasn’t not like his brothers. his need to differentiate himself made him sound like he was insulting them at times, not acknowledging that they were all products of their upbringing and that he had always been seen as…better. he and jermaine were favored, but it was always to their detriment. jermaine couldn’t quite live up to exactly what joseph wanted and it wasn’t a secret that joseph would dispose of his own sons if he no longer found any utility in them. if there was ever going to be a successor to the “jackson criminal empire”, it was between michael and jermaine.
until it wasn’t.
there were always competitions between the boys, but michael knew he didn’t need to do much to be seen; he was a genius, that’s what joe called him when he wasn’t mad at him for some minuscule fuck up that would be corrected not too long after. because that’s what michael did, if he made a mistake it was corrected as soon as it was discovered. jermaine was joe’s pride and joy, his first official heir. michael didn’t actually know he was in competition with jermaine until jermaine left hayvenhurst, yelling about how he’d given everything to joseph just to be overlooked and treated like he wasn’t capable. in michael’s mind, he had been talking about joseph’s right hands. he did tend to treat those men better than his own sons. being a favorite of joseph’s as a son was sometimes no different from being a disappointment.
he didn’t know how to feel about jermaine resenting him over joseph’s fickle attitude.
jackie and tito took it all in stride. neither one of them wanted it as bad as jermaine did, if at all. marlon was only ever in competition with michael, but it was brotherly. he’d work and work and work until he could win a game or follow joseph’s directions, and beam at michael because he’d finally done it.
“did’ja see mikey? i did it!!”
michael loved how much marlon lit up when he accomplished something. it was a far cry from the man he stood face to face with the year prior, eyes devoid of anything resembling the kid who used to run along with him at jackie’s heels, moving cement bricks almost bigger than them back in gary. though, he supposed he had been slowly watching that kid disappear for a few years until he finally left. he still hears whispers here and there about the contracts he’s on and tries to keep up with him, even if it was through the grapevine, but when marlon disappears, he’s gone until he pops up again leaving a trail of violence in his path.
he remembered being told to “follow the bodies” if he needed to find his brother. that unsettled him.
“yeah! yeah, michael’s right here actually,” quincy looked at michael, “mr. gordy says hi,”
michael gave a small smile which quincy took as the go ahead to greet berry on his behalf. the only thing michael really knew about berry gordy was that joseph hated the man and jermaine worked closely with him. he would see his brother standing behind the politician during press conferences and in news articles. he was never named, but he knew that was on purpose. whatever jermaine was doing for the gordys was enough for him to be seen, but not known publicly. michael couldn’t even ask him exactly what they were doing, and quincy didn’t seem to know either despite his working relationship with berry, complicated as it was.
“we’re in california right now, new york is a little hot with the war goin’ on. i hear detroit got hit pretty hard…”
suddenly, michael hears berry’s voice in the office and looks up at quincy, who was putting the receiver down as quietly as he could. whatever berry was saying, quincy wanted michael to hear it.
“what all do you know about the jacksons?”
“never met the rest, and i’m not in the business of getting in my mentee’s personal life. you worked with jermaine longer than i have with michael, he hasn’t told you anything?”
michael frowned. “he told me what he thought i wanted to hear, but i need some more information.” berry explained, “his father is becoming a pain in my ass.”
“old joe, huh? had to make a deal with him just to work with michael,” quincy said with a chuckle.
berry didn’t laugh, “he always expect finder’s fees for his sons?”
“he seems to see them as products, so yeah,”
as accurate as it was, michael never thought of it that way. it put things into perspective for him. joseph made everything transactional, even his kids.
“i don’t need him nosing around in my shit, and jermaine seems to always want to cave to his ridiculous whims despite the fact that he works for me. i can’t have him working with the labor unions while i’m actively trying to dismantle them. there’s no money in labor rackets anymore, joseph jackson knows it but he keeps trying to go back to the only thing he knows.”
quincy leaned back in his seat, “if jermaine is partial to working with his father and joseph is always lookin’ for a quick buck, why not make that work in your favor?”
“because whatever hold that man has on his sons is worth more than gold to them, or, at least to jermaine. he came to me, angry and ready to work, but that father…”
“what are your plans gordy? you never just call me to complain.”
there was a pause on the other line. “i need you to plant a seed for me,”
“to?”
“michael. you’ve done all you needed with him, he helped you dismantle those boys claiming to be genovese associates, helped you move up with the italians, and brokered that deal with the gambinos. send him back to his father. the only way to get jermaine’s focus is when he’s angry at someone and he did his best work when he was mad at michael and his father.”
“mr. gordy, you’re asking me to send my best worker away for your business. i have to ask, what’s in it for me?”
michael felt like a bargaining chip again.
“what’s in it for you is i won’t have that boy’s head on a stake by 5 o’clock tomorrow.”
quincy laughed then, loud and obnoxious and michael failed to see what was funny. berry gordy had just threatened to kill him. it wasn’t his first death threat, but it was one he was going to take seriously. gordy sounded desperate and desperate men, typically, made good on their word, consequences be damned. it was different from the usually calm and calculated man that he was. if joseph was causing that much grief for him, he wondered how jermaine was handling it.
“berry, before i make a decision, i want you to call up your vegas contacts, then maybe an associate or two back in harlem and encino. actually, you only need one, pick one person, anybody in the world you know and ask them about the jacksons. get an idea of what would happen if you killed their brother, then call me back when you’ve cooled off a bit.”
“jones—”
“gordy. do it.”
the call ends and michael springs up in his seat, “quincy, what the fuck?”
michael rarely cursed, but he felt the word was fitting concerning he may have a pending bounty on his head.
“just, wait,” quincy assured him.
“wait? he just threatened to kill me if you don’t use me in some hamfisted attempt to make jermaine into his loyal right hand? why am i even being used like that? i don’t want my brother to hate me because of my father!”
“michael.”
“what? why are you so calm we—”
the phone rang and quincy put his finger up to answer, pressing the speaker button.
“you told me you knew nothing about the jacksons.”
“i said i never met them.” quincy corrected.
there was silence on the other line for a few minutes and michael felt his palms begin to sweat. “michael’s off limits,” was all berry said, his tone resigned, “but joe? he’d better watch his back.”
“fair enough.”
michael didn't think that was a good compromise either.
1983, encino, california
“boys, i’m glad i could get all of you together today,” joseph said as he regarded his sons with a smile.
each jackson boy sat in the den of their childhood home with looks of suspicion and apprehension on their faces. it was never good when joseph wanted them together and they knew it. jackie and tito had known that their younger brothers would go for various reasons, and knew they needed to be there just in case joseph roped them into something. despite what jermaine and michael thought, they were just as susceptible to joseph’s manipulation as marlon was. randy seemed to move to the beat of his own drum, but he was still the baby brother who wanted to tagalong. jackie knew even tito held a respect for their father that wouldn’t let him ignore the man.
“what is this about joseph?” jackie asked.
joseph’s smile faded and he raised an eyebrow at jackie, “you want me to get to the point, huh? you got somewhere to be?”
when jackie didn’t respond, he continued, “i have a job for you, one that is gonna make us a lot of money.”
the boys didn’t give him a reaction. “it’s important that i have you boys involved in this. we can be seen as legitimate, like the gambinos or the genovese.”
“that era is dead joseph and you know it. they barely operate the way they used to. the gangs and the drug traffickers run everything now and the feds are watching them even harder. what is your big plan to put ‘us’ on the map like that?” jackie questioned.
“gordy is out, likely for good, unless he ever decides to go underground. his allies and contracts are ours for the taking.”
“there’s a jermaine-sized elephant in the room that you’re forgetting,” marlon pointed out, “no one’s touchin’ him and by extension any jackson with a ten foot pole. especially not after that charity gala shit.”
“the day i ask you for advice on anything other than how to polish my beretta’ll be the day hell freezes over,” joseph snapped, “you stick to what you know and i’ll handle logistics.”
“well joseph the best way to polish your beretta would be to stick the barrel in your mouth and—”
“marlon.” tito sighed.
“just stickin’ to what i know.” marlon said with a grin.
“he’s right though.”
all attention turned to michael, who usually never said much during these meetings. his eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark aviators, his fingers tapping against his denim covered thighs. each brother knew his anxiety was building from just being in the room with joseph. michael had strategically distanced himself from his father under the guise of mentorship and learning the tricks of the trade from other allies to their family. quincy jones taught him how to operate high enough above the board so that he was never regarded with suspicion, but low enough that he never had to continuously prove himself to those who worked deep in organized crime. michael’s intentions weren’t to hurt or get over on people, he wanted to amass wealth to help those who couldn’t help themselves. the legitimate ways to do that took too much time and even at 25 he was world weary enough to know that someone like him was never going to be able to achieve those dreams in a legitimate way.
most people in his line of work saw his efforts as futile anyway or not worth trying to execute on a large scale. he could understand why they thought that way. feds were cracking down on criminal organizations every day, wrapping people up in rico cases and turning top bosses into snitches. it all seemed to be falling apart so quickly, that the general consensus was to extract as much wealth from this as you could and get out before you got caught up too.
michael just refused to be that pessimistic about it.
“gordy has an entire family that’s going to keep his work going, nothing is up for grabs.” he said, “so what is this really about joseph? there’s no way you think our best bet is to try to make a name for ourselves when we should be laying low.”
joseph regarded michael with a look of surprise and crossed his arms over his chest. michael’s fingers kept dancing on his thighs as joseph stared at him. “take off them glasses, boy.” joseph demanded.
michael could feel his brothers’ eyes on him, and he knew what they were thinking. they wanted him to rebel, say no, tell joseph to fuck off, but michael wasn’t like jackie, who would try to reason with joseph, he wasn’t like tito who could take his words in stride, he couldn’t forgive and forget like jermaine had, trade insults and threats like marlon, and he wasn’t a rebel like randy who would leave the room mid-sentence on joseph if he didn’t like what he was hearing.
so michael complied, taking the aviators off of his face and stared at joseph’s shoes. “you can’t even look me in the eye.” the older man shook his head, “you grown now? still living at your mama’s house, up under her titty like you ain’t got the potential to be something other than a glorified intern to quincy damn jones. hell, even randy moved into his own shit, and you still sulk around your childhood bedroom with a chip on your shoulder like i didn’t raise you up to be the best of us.”
“who owns this house?” michael asked quietly.
“what, boy?”
“who owns the house joseph? because my name is on the deed. i saved it when you almost lost it with one of your schemes.”
the silence in the room was suffocating for michael. he wanted to look up just in case joseph tried to hit him, just so he could see it coming, but he didn’t. “i live in my home and i allow you to come on the property to see mother or gather us around for a family meeting. if i changed the locks and told bill the gate doesn’t open for you anymore, what would you do?” he questioned.
more silence.
“bill is my—” joseph started.
“he’s on my payroll. most of your employees are because you can’t pay them,” michael looked up then, “you’re desperate, joseph and when you get desperate you start losing things. what else have you got to lose, your life?”
“that a threat?”
“it’s an inevitability.”
“i built you, all of you. you’re products of me and the empire i created for you to inherit. all i got out of it was two low level thugs, a failure who couldn’t create a lane for himself, a trigger happy nutjob, an ungrateful smart ass, and you…the fuck do you even do, boy?” joseph turned to randy.
“insider trading mostly, but i dabble in art dealing.”
“you mean theft.” jermaine said.
“tomato, tomahto.”
the rest of the brothers looked at randy with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, “diversify your portfolios.”
michael couldn’t help but give his youngest brother a small, soft laugh. randy had always been a jack of all trades.
“well, at least one of you is good for something,” joseph huffed, “the rest of you…”
he turned to leave the room, “i built an empire and i’ll build another. i don’t need you.”
and with that he was gone.
“when did you put the house in your name, michael?” jermaine questioned.
“mike just put his foot up joseph’s ass and that’s your main concern?” marlon laughed, “i almost wanna call him back in here so he can do it again.”
“always knew you still had it in you.” randy elbowed michael in the side and grinned.
michael put his sunglasses back on and tried to sink into the couch cushions. it felt good to talk back to joseph, it reminded him of his childhood when he would be more vocal in his rebellion. it always led to a chase or a beating, but speaking up on behalf of himself or his brothers was something michael took pride in back then. over the years he saw how futile it all was, especially as each jackson boy became a dim light under joseph’s “preservation of the family” which only ensured that they never left their place under his thumb. they did eventually, with varying degrees of success and a lot of added baggage. michael didn’t think his brothers were fully free.
as much as he liked to pretend that he was, he knew he wasn’t either.
“so now what?” randy asked, “you know he ain’t done.”
“continue living your lives,” jackie said, “something is coming for him and he wants us to run point while he figures out his next move. he didn’t have the resources to take on anything gordy was doing even if he could get his hands on the man’s portfolio. he’s circling the drain, let him drown on his own.”
michael nodded in agreement. “i like that idea too,” tito said with a resigned look, “if you have any loose ends with him, tie ‘em up now.”
“i just don’t understand why he won’t outright ask for help instead of…whatever this is.” jermaine frowned.
“that man has an ego the size of texas, i can only imagine what kinda’ discussion he had with michael when it came to the house.” marlon said, “he probably sent bill to do it.”
“you’re right, actually. ” michael said with a chuckle.
“psychic and a nutjob, your skillset gets more complex by the day,” randy snorted.
“steven randall, you have two seconds to explain how i’m a nutjob.” marlon said.
randy turned fully to look at his older brother, “marlon, just last week a russian pulled a gun on you and you grabbed the barrel, put it to your forehead and told him to shoot.”
“that is something a nutjob would do.” jermaine commented.
“they were testing us, i passed.” marlon shrugged, “they think you’re a pussy though.”
“marlon.” tito warned.
“oh, so i can be a nutjob, but he can’t be a pussy? would you rather me call him a bitch?”
“that’s just crass marlon.” jermaine frowned.
“bitch is crass, but pussy ain’t?” randy questioned.
“i happen to think nutjob is crass,” marlon said.
“we can call you headcase instead.”
“i’d rather you both call each other by the names your mama gave you.” tito snapped.
michael sighed and smiled as his brothers went back and forth with each other. he liked it when they could just be. everything about their recent meetings had been jobs, plans, trading information and trying to talk joseph down from his desperation to be “on top”. they hadn’t been able to have normal conversations with each other in such a long time that even this stupid exchange between marlon, randy, tito and jermaine was refreshing.
he glanced at jackie, who looked to be deep in thought and nudged him. “something on your mind?”
jackie shook his head, “nothing for you to worry about mike.”
“jackie.” michael frowned, “i’m not a kid anymore.”
“you’re right, you’re not,” he gave michael a small smile and patted his thigh, “but i’m just not ready to have this conversation right now.”
“will you tell me when you are?”
“yeah, i will.”
1987, encino, california
michael watched as the movers took what was left of his belongings and placed them in the back of the truck.
around ten years ago, michael had noticed a fracture in the jackson family. one that had drawn lines of division between his brothers, their work, and their parents. when they came back together, he hoped it was a permanent fix, but after the attempted hit on joseph that ended up injuring him and tito, the fracture appeared again. it started with marlon who disappeared with only jackie knowing his whereabouts. tito hadn’t liked that. there wasn’t much they didn’t tell each other, especially when it came to their younger brothers. he tracked him down, much to the disappointment of jackie, but wouldn’t talk about what he found with anyone. jermaine spent most of his time trying to find exactly which associates of the gordys could’ve done it and randy bounced between hospital visits and helping his siblings with various plans to get back at whoever hurt their brothers.
no one asked him if he even wanted that. michael just wanted his brothers to be there for him while he tried to navigate life after someone tried to kill him. he stayed out of the more dangerous aspects of their work for a reason. he didn’t knock the people who worked in the criminal world, he skirted around the darker parts of it himself but sometimes toed the line if he were being honest. whatever joseph was into to cause someone to try to blow him up, michael would never find himself dealing with something like that.
after a few years of tense reunions and secrets being revealed, he decided it was time to move on with his life. he told his father and brothers that he was done in ‘84 when he was healed enough to return home, but he was really done now. the writing was even on the wall with quincy, who desperately wanted michael to stay on one path when he wanted to forge his own.
he wanted to cut ties with everyone and start over.
“michael.”
well. maybe not everyone.
“mother.”
“marlon’s here to see you off.” katherine said softly.
michael looked at his mother, “i thought we agreed to keep this under wraps.” he frowned.
“i wanted him to talk to you. it’s been three years since you’ve spoken, and he has someone he wants you to meet.” she said with a reassuring smile.
katherine patted him on the back and left the driveway. michael swallowed and tried to make himself not feel betrayal from his mother. ultimately, she was always going to want her kids to be able to forgive each other. michael hadn’t given marlon the opportunity to apologize after he left. to this day, he still didn’t know why jackie and tito would tell him to ask marlon where he went, but he refused to. marlon was grown enough to walk up to michael and explain himself. he needed his twin and the man wasn’t there. michael remembered thinking the worst from his hospital bed, just for marlon to show up at hayvenhurst with balloons and flowers like everything was normal.
he wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to abandon him again.
“you finally movin’ out, huh?”
“figured it was time.” michael said as he turned away from the moving truck.
marlon stood there with a small smile on his face, but that wasn’t what caught michael off guard. the little girl in his arms who bore a faint resemblance to their mother, with her father’s eyes, and brown coils surprised him. “mar…” michael starts.
“her name is nicole. gigi and i were a little paranoid about letting people know we were parents, but mother finally convinced me to tell you all,”
“is keeping secrets the only thing you know how to do?”
“mikey—”
“don’t mikey me, marlon. i’ve told you time and time again that you can come to me about anything. you don’t trust me? you think i would’ve put your baby, my niece, in danger? you disappear, then you pop back up with jokes to distract from the fact that you’re a flake and you can’t handle it when shit gets hard.”
the words were coming faster than michael could think, tumbling out of his mouth despite knowing he didn’t want to hurt his brother. or maybe he did. because he was hurt that marlon continued doing this to him after all of the effort he put into making sure his brother knew he was there for him and that he didn’t have to carry anything alone.
but marlon left him to carry things alone all the time.
“michael that’s not fair—”
“what’s not fair is me waiting in the burn unit for you to come and jackie giving me non-answers about where you were. not fair is you showing up again and not giving me an explanation. not fair is you lying to me for years about what joseph had you doing just for me to find out from my mentor that you were contracting. i watched you become a completely different person for three years until you up and left, marlon. i get hurt, you leave, you can’t handle me being mad at you so you fuck off again and now you’re showing up to tell me about a kid you’ve had this entire time as if you, once again, don’t trust me enough to know about her? i’m not doing this with you anymore, or at all.”
the way marlon looked at him broke his heart, but michael wasn’t in the mood or space to try and clean up his words. he meant what he said. even if he didn’t mean to say it like that, he wanted to get it off of his chest. “michael,” marlon swallowed and michael pretended not to hear the emotion in his voice, “you were still a kid the first time i took a contract for joseph.”
“we were both kids—”
“i wasn’t a kid no more, i,” he paused and seemed to remember he was holding his daughter. he put her down and whispered something in her ear that made her nod and run up to the front door.
michael watched as her brown puffs bounced with each step, and wished he could’ve watched her grow up. he wished marlon trusted him enough for that. she grabbed the handle and opened the door before looking back and giving him a wave and a smile showing off her missing bottom tooth. he gave her a smile and a wave back as she entered the house.
“i had a lot of anger and frustration and resentment when i was a kid that got worse as i got older and i bottled that up. i internalized a lot of what joseph said about me, and i wasn’t handling that well. the explosion was kinda my breaking point, man,” marlon crossed his arms over his chest, “jackie sent me, gia, and nikki to her people down in savannah and i got my head on straight. otherwise i think i would’ve ended up dead behind you and tito.”
michael couldn’t even appreciate the explanation because it still felt like there was something missing. it wasn’t enough to justify the behavior in his eyes.
“you talk to me like i’m so much younger than you marlon, we’re 17 months apart. you act like i wasn’t there with you when joseph would beat our asses, or when he’d pack us up and take us to gary for the summer to move bricks from one spot to the next to ‘build character’. we both got shit from him, mar.”
marlon shook his head, “he ever tell you how useless you are because you can’t get something done as quickly as your little brothers? ‘you’ll never live up to your older brothers either, you won’t inherit shit from me because you can’t keep up, marlon, see how michael does it? do it like michael. keep up with michael. why can’t you figure it out? i can’t always be around to explain this shit over and over and over again so you need to get it now and get it right’.
“i got a gun as a prize after fucking up so much and i think joseph wanted me to…” he pauses and michael can see him trying to take a deep breath, maybe even count backwards in his head before he continued, “i was so fucking fed up with being a failure that i didn’t kill that guy for joseph, i did it for me. i was tampering with people’s guns who pissed me off for fun. you know that’s why bill acts like i might annihilate the entire family, right? when bobby got hurt, that was me, ted lost a finger, i did that, and i’d take their failed contracts and do them myself. at 16, michael. i was taking people out just to show them i could be better, that i was better. joseph wasn’t just pulling shit out of his ass when he called me a ‘trigger happy nutjob’ a few years ago. i was, maybe i still am, but i can regulate my emotions a little better now so that’s a plus.”
“you still could’ve told me—”
“i couldn’t tell you anything, because you’d look at me the same way mother started to and i couldn’t have that. you don’t know what it’s like to have your father look at you like you’re nothing and your brothers constantly pitying you, and your mother look at you like you’re a stranger in her house. she didn’t mean to, i know she didn’t, but i saw it, mikey.”
michael swallowed and if he dug deep enough he could remember their days in gary when joseph was laying into all of them, he’d have an extra word or two for marlon. he always seemed to take in stride though, he’d smile and ask michael if he wanted to play not too long after. he remembered the days when marlon would come home to hayvenhurst after a day out with joe quiet and spaced out, and he remembered not wanting to ask what was wrong because he was afraid of the answer. how their inability to share with one another tumbled from there, because if michael could notice and not say anything how could marlon trust him to listen?
their reunion a few years ago should’ve fixed it though. they’ve more or less had this conversation and still marlon kept things from him.
“well, you don’t have to worry about telling me anything from now on. if you can’t be there for me or trust me enough to be there for you, then you can stay out of my life for good.”
marlon opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself before nodding slowly, seemingly unwilling to argue with him. “if that’s what you want, fine.”
“it is.”
he couldn’t take it back now.
santa barbara, california, 1991
“mr. jackson, your brother is on line one.”
his assistant stood hesitantly in the doorway of his home office, smoothing out the wrinkles in her pencil skirt as he looked up from some paperwork on his desk. from his expression she wasn’t able to tell what mood he was in, just that he seemed…calm.
after the contract with the los angeles county board of labor fell through the previous morning, she cancelled his meetings at his behest and left him alone for the day. he typically needed a few hours to decompress after something went wrong. she could only assume he was currently in the process of figuring out who sabotaged the deal and when they needed to be paid a visit. for the most part, she was content to schedule, field communications, sort through mail, and ignore the inflated paycheck that was wired into her account from a country she had never heard of.
justine knew when to keep her head down and her nose out of michael’s business. not even a two months earlier, she watched his gardener, ricky, be walked out by bill, the head of security and chauffeured off of the property in a rolls royce. the gardener’s own car was driven to the garage and when it reemerged three weeks later, it had been stripped down, rebuilt and gifted to an associate of michael’s who had recently gotten married.
“i have five brothers, justine,” he tucks a stray curl behind his ear and fixes his gaze on her, “did he say who he was?”
“no sir, he said you wouldn’t pick up if you knew who it was.” she said, relaying the other man’s message verbatim.
the jackson siblings were an enigma. michael was tight lipped about them, only ever mentioning something about sending his sisters birthday gifts. there was gossip amongst staff; whispers about two older brothers in vegas, two in los angeles, and various other siblings in different places that no one knew enough about to say exactly where they were. michael kept his family secrets close to his chest and in his line of work it made sense.
“so it’s jermaine,” he said to himself, shaking his head in exasperation, “thank you justine. i’ll take it from here.”
she nodded and turned to leave, shutting the door behind her for privacy. when she sat back at her desk, the red blinking light on the phone turned green indicating that he had picked up the call. justine went back to her previous work; sorting through various invoices that needed to go out to contractors by the first of the month. the work was mind numbing enough that she could focus without thinking about what that phone call could have been about.
this was the first time she ever heard a name in regard to his siblings. michael hadn’t seemed too excited to hear from him either if his immediate reaction was anything to go by. she tried to think if the name jermaine was familiar to her; had she come across it while compiling documents? maybe it was tucked away in michael’s rolodex that she updated quite frequently.
the sound of michael’s door opening broke her out of her thoughts and she went back to her work of preparing invoices, marking which ones were overdue and needed to be accompanied by a personal message from her boss. “justine, clear my schedule and buzz bill. i need to head to encino for the day,” michael said as he walked past her desk without a glance back.
“yes sir,” she nodded, moving to pick up the phone.
he paused at the doorway and turned back to where she sat in her cubicle. justine’s finger hovered over bill’s direct line as she caught his gaze. he looked okay, but that never meant anything. michael claimed to not have a poker face, and bill would back him up on that sentiment, but justine didn’t think she ever saw him be anything other than reserved.
“do you have any plans today?” he questioned.
she blinked owlishly at him before clearing her throat, “finishing up these invoices and getting them ready for delivery. i also needed to prepare for your meeting with mayor lodge next week. her assistant requested an itinerary, but rosie didn’t have the lunch menu together yet,” she explained.
“that can wait. i’d like for you to accompany me to encino. it’s a bit of an emergency,”
the only thing justine knew about encino was that a monthly stipend was sent via certified mail to an address there. on the last day of each month, she would personally write the check, have michael endorse it, and get it ready for pick up by the mail carrier. the name on the envelope wasn’t familiar, but whoever katherine scruze was, she was very well taken care of.
“we’ll need to leave now, if we want to make it before lunch.” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
justine noticed that he didn’t question her about any plans she may have had outside of work. she didn’t have any, but his assumption that she didn’t was a little embarrassing. it was bad enough she had no social life to speak of, but for her boss to come to that conclusion despite the fact that they didn’t discuss their personal lives was mortifying.
she made a quick mental note to at least attempt to find a hobby after today.
“sure, i can come,” she said as she stood and grabbed her purse and coat, “will i need to make any further arrangements for travel or lodging? i know you like to be discreet when you travel…”
she pressed the button for bill’s line and he picked up on the first ring, “justine, what’s going on sweetheart?” he questioned, and she couldn’t help but smile because she knew he was smiling on the other line.
bill was a lifeline and father figure to michael and would find a way to adopt the younger employees on the ranch as well. it was always a good sign if he took a liking to a new face. it meant they could be trusted which in turn put michael at ease.
“morning bill. mr. jackson needs to go to encino, it’s urgent,”
he didn’t even respond before hanging up. justine stared at the phone in shock before putting it down and forwarding all of the incoming calls to voicemail. “it sounds like bill is getting the car. if you’re ready, mr. jackson?”
michael simply nodded and gestured for justine to exit the room first.
“oh, and justine,” he said once she had crossed the threshold, “call me michael.”
something in justine’s brain short circuited at the request and she looked back at him with her eyebrows raised, “okay mr….michael,”
he gave her a short chuckle, “you’ll get used to it.”
synopsis: if it took him 14 years to find happiness, he could reconcile with that.
word count: 7.2k
warnings: non-graphic depictions of gun injuries, mentions of guns, murder and child abuse. depiction of ptsd and dissociation.
an: this kinda ran away from me and resulted in this lol. the overarching story is just art imitates life with a few creative liberties taken. also kind of a look into the what ifs of the brothers' relationships with each other if they didn't find ways to overcome their upbringing. still not the main story, but a precursor to it. i have more to say but i'ma stop rambling lol
1978, manhattan, new york
“you gonna tell me what that was about?”
marlon shrugged as he continued cleaning his revolver. the smith & wesson model 15 was a favorite of his, it had been the first gun he was able to call his own. a gift from joseph after a job he completed when he should’ve been celebrating his 16th birthday. it hadn’t been a simple gift either, joseph made him work for it.
“put it back together and you can keep it.” he’d said, shoving a box with the stripped revolver at him.
it wasn’t his first time doing it, but it would be his first time getting to keep one. he had been stripping guns and switching out parts for joseph so often that he was sure he could do it in his sleep. but despite what joe thought, marlon wasn’t stupid. he wasn’t just some robot who shot his father’s enemies and disposed of the weapons. he knew everything was a test or a potential setup. it wasn’t enough to scratch off the serial numbers or wear gloves to make sure his prints didn’t transfer. he had to make sure joseph included all of the parts in the gun because one missing piece could result in missing fingers, a jammed gun, or worse.
sometimes he wondered if that was what his father wanted.
marlon adopted that cruelty at times. he didn’t like how his anger and resentment manifested, but he knew it was best to get it out of his system when he could. if joseph had a favorite associate that needed something for a quick job, marlon was tasked with finding it and making sure it was ready for use. a simple addition of a homemade switch or altering the binary system of the gun sounded good to the untrained and uninformed, something he took advantage of.
“didn’t know you was one of joe’s boys,” bobby, one of joseph’s favorites, said as he regarded marlon with a laugh, “he usually takes those other ones everywhere. you not good enough?”
if bobby ended up pulling the trigger and causing runaway fire from the increased cycling, maybe he just didn’t know what he was doing. if he ended up with powder burns and partial deafness and needed to be taken off duty, marlon saw it as an unfortunate circumstance. and if marlon could walk in the front doors of a car wash, baby faced and unassuming, ask to see the owner about a job, and shoot him in the face at joseph’s behest with no problems then maybe he was good enough.
maybe he was better.
the only problem was the people around him weren’t stupid either, namely bill, his father’s closest associate tasked with making sure the boys were okay when he wasn’t around. he caught onto what was going on and confronted marlon about it.
“i know what you did to bobby.” he said one day in the kitchen at hayvenhurst.
marlon looked up from the sandwich he was eating and swallowed, “what’d i do to bobby?”
“you knew that switch was faulty when you put it on.”
“the switch wasn’t faulty,” marlon said as he picked the crust off of his bread, “it wasn’t even the switch that caused the runaway fire. the disconnector might’a been rusty, or loose. you know joseph buys guns from anybody without vetting them.”
“marlon. did you tamper with that gun?”
“so what if i did?” he asked bill, his eyes on his sandwich crusts.
“you could’ve killed him.”
“wouldn’t‘a been a loss, he talks too much.”
“hey, look at me.”
marlon is only 16, not too far away in age from michael and the differences between the two were stark. marlon carried a weight to him that came from being in his brothers’ shadows. no matter how hard he tried or how much effort he put in, it was never enough. bill sought to find a way for him to have an outlet for that weight before it crushed him.
“you can’t do that.” bill said, “just because someone made you mad, you can’t make the unilateral decision to hurt them.”
bill doesn’t like the way this child looks at him. he’s only known the jackson boys since the youngest, randy, was around 9. marlon had been 13 then, a bright eyed kid who didn’t carry the weight he had now, but he could see the armor building even back then. with each backhanded compliment, outright insult, and complete disregard, joseph chipped away at someone who could’ve been good. now there was a shell sitting in front of him. a little soldier who could switch between detachment and behaving the way a child his age should in an instant.
or, at least, he could pretend well enough.
“joseph makes unilateral decisions to kill people and sends me to do it. how’s that any different?” marlon asked, and he resembled his father then, dead-eyed and detached, “if i can be told to shoot someone in the back a’ the head while they’re eating dinner with their family, how’s it wrong for me to decide to not tighten the disconnector in a gun someone’s s’posed to use for a job?”
bill wouldn’t pretend to be okay with what joseph had his adolescent sons doing. tito and jackie shouldn’t have been running numbers as far back as their high school years, jermaine shouldn’t have been privy to or participating in labor union intimidation, michael and randy had no business learning about the way joseph conducted “business”, and marlon never should have never been given a gun.
the other boys could make a clean break at the very least. marlon couldn’t.
bill would go to joseph with his concerns, letting him know that marlon had purposely injured bobby, maybe even intended to kill him, and joseph, instead of trying to stop it, encouraged it.
“sometimes you gotta play dirty to get to the top. good job.”
and after all of the constant judgement, that praise felt so good.
“marlon! hey, i asked you a question.” georgia snapped her fingers in his face, her eyebrows raised.
“ask me again, baby,” he said, as he looked at her, trying to shake himself from the blank stare he knew he was giving her.
“don’t baby me. you’ve been acting strange all night. whose apartment did we go to after the club? you went up there like you were about to kill whoever it was and came back like a kicked puppy.”
“that was my brother and sister’s place,” he answered truthfully, “they were at the club tonight. that’s why i didn’t let you do the job.”
georgia frowned and leaned forward, placing her hands on the wooden table in their hotel room. she stared down at him, trying to attach an emotion to the look on his face.
she couldn’t.
“you never told me you had siblings.”
“you never asked,” his eyes went back down to his abandoned gun in front of him and he continued cleaning it.
“i’ve asked you about your past which included your family and home life. i’ve shared mine with you even before we moved in together and started all this shit, i told you everything.”
“gigi, you know i love you, right?” he asked her.
“well right now i’m not so sure, baby.” she said as she stood up and turned to walk over to the window.
she looked outside at the night sky, allowing the glow of the crescent moon to comfort her. georgia knew her boyfriend wasn’t firing on all cylinders, which was fine with her because she wasn’t either. no one in the business they operated in was. there was a detachment you had to have to live the life they did and she understood that. she just wished it wasn’t beginning to seep into their relationship.
marlon for all of his jokes, wide smiles, and tenderness was actually very quiet and pensive. it was always interesting to catch him sitting by himself, deep in thought. it was even more interesting how quickly he was able to switch when someone called him to come be the life of the party. the way he turned “on” and became a completely different person never ceased to amaze her. but when he was off, he was off. it was almost like he was waiting for instruction before moving again. when they first got together, she asked about his past and he’d told her he was from indiana, but spent his adolescent years in california. his father got him into contract killing, and he’d been doing it since he was 15.
never a mention of siblings or even a mother. georgia assumed the woman was either dead or had abandoned him.
“i have five brothers and three sisters,” georgia felt familiar arms encircling her waist and allowed him to settle behind her, “my younger brother, michael is the one who tripped the alarm to keep me from killing that guy.”
“why would he do that?” she frowned.
“he don’t like what i do. no one does really and that’s why i stay away.” he said softly, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder.
“you’ve been doing it since you were a kid. why would they care now?”
“no one knew the extent of what i had goin’ on. and if they did they ignored it…maybe they just didn’t care. i don’t know. but that’s just the thing with middle kids, we kinda fall under the radar,” he chuckled.
she caught his reflection in the window, his lips were curled upward in a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. “thank you for telling me,” she said softly, deciding what he told her was enough.
georgia turned, causing marlon to lose his grip on her, and grabbed his face, repeating their kiss from the dance floor of studio 54. “you can tell me anything marlon, okay? because i care.”
he nodded, chasing the kiss with a peck to the corner of her lips, “i know mama,”
she kept her hand on his jaw and stared into his eyes, a frown forming as she noticed how hard he was trying to focus on her. his eyes drifted then refocused with such frequency she wondered what was on his mind. “marlon are you okay?” she asked him.
“yeah.”
“you don’t like talking about your family do you?”
“no.”
“okay…” she said softly, “we don’t have to talk about them.”
georgia pulled him into a hug and weaved her fingers through his afro, gently massaging his scalp. she felt him wrap his arms around her again as he buried his face in her neck and took a few deep breaths as if trying to ground himself. “you ready for bed, baby?” she questioned, voice gentle.
“i still gotta finish—”
“i was being nice by asking.” she warned him and he chuckled into her neck, his shoulders shaking which let her know he was feeling better.
“okay, yeah. let’s go to bed.”
1981, las vegas, nevada
vegas was supposed to be an easy in and out job. they had discussed the logistics forwards and backwards and everything seemed to be going well at first. georgia made it back to the sublet apartment they were staying in after she took care of her mark. she was already in the process of packing their things when a knock came to the front door.
immediately she knew it wasn’t marlon. he had a key and even if he had gotten locked out, they had a special knock they both used to let the other know it was them and not a stranger. she grabbed her pistol and snuck over to the door to look out of the peephole. on the other side of the door was a man of average height, who looked somewhat familiar to her. she took in his thick brows, and the shape of his eyes and nose and realized he resembled marlon. her hand hovered near the doorknob as she tried to think of what she should do.
she took the safety off of her gun and unlocked the door, only cracking it open, “what do you want?”
“you can put the gun down baby girl, you need to come with me,” he said, causing her to look at him in shock.
“excuse me?”
“marlon got into some trouble and he’s in the hospital. he’s fine, but they have him drugged up and he’s been begging for you,” he said sounding annoyed and not the least bit concerned.
“what kind of trouble? and who are you—”
“tito jackson his older brother, and whatever shit you two been into bit him in the ass and got his smashed his face in. like i said, he’s fine, they’re taking him into surgery tomorrow—”
“surgery?!”
“you try getting hit in the face with the butt of a rifle and see if you still have a nose after the fact,” he scoffed, “you comin’?”
that was how georgia found herself rushing down the hallway of sunrise memorial hospital to her boyfriend’s room. tito had assured her he was fine, but the words he used to describe marlon’s injuries still alarmed her. him needing surgery was even more alarming. “he’s in here,” tito said, nodding to a closed door and pushing it open for her.
she thanked him as she entered and immediately frowned when she saw marlon laying in a hospital bed, with a brace covering his nose. his eyes were bruised, lip swollen, and his right eye seemed to have a burst blood vessel judging by how red it was. another man who sat by the window, looked up and gave her a quick nod in acknowledgement before his gaze went back to marlon.
“mar…” she whispered as she walked over to his bedside and grabbed his hand.
“hey baby,” he said softly, attempting to smile at her, but it only came out as a grimace, his face unable to move much due to the brace and his various injuries.
“what the hell happened?” she kept looking him over and felt as though she saw a new bruise or scratch every time she thought she was done cataloging the damage to his face.
“ah man, it was goin’ s’well,” he slurred his words, and she guessed he was still on some pretty good pain medication, though the swollen lip may have also been contributing to the lisp, “shot up the fuckin’ mgm presidential suite so good s’gonna be closed for repairs for weeks.”
“marlon…” tito sighed as he made his way over to the other man who was seated near marlon on the other side of his bed.
“c’mon tito lemme tell the story. i felt like tony montana, baby,” she could tell he was trying to smile again but gave up when his face wouldn’t quite cooperate with him, “then this guy came outta nowhere and boom, my face just fuckin’ explodes. thought he shot me, but he just hit me with a rifle and ran like a pussy—”
“boy.”
georgia turned and saw the other guy looking at him with his eyes narrowed. “drugs or not, you don’t talk like that.”
“sorry dad,” marlon rolled his eyes and winced, seemingly regretting that action, “heard they gotta reconstruct my nose. got mangled pretty good. by the way…you met my brothers? excuse my manners, s’tito an’ jackie.”
“tito brought me here babe,” georgia said quietly before turning to jackie, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“likewise.” was all he said in return.
“did you get your target?” marlon asked her, again attempting to express some sort of emotion by raising his eyebrows.
that didn’t quite work out for him either. “yeah, he’s good and dead.” she said, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.
“that’s my girl.”
“y’all do this together?” tito questioned.
“sometimes. i’d rather she didn’t do it all,” marlon murmured, his eyes drooping, “she's good at it though. might even be better than me…”
he was out then, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. “we tried everything to get him to sleep, guess he was just waiting for you.” jackie said.
georgia licked her lips as she watched marlon sleep and continued holding his hand, trying to place what she was feeling at the moment. he was alive, breathing and even joking, but something in her made her wonder if they should keep going. there was always the threat of death or getting hurt, but georgia and marlon lived as if they were immortal. this moment reminded her that they weren’t. they could meet their match at any time. she could lose him and vice versa.
“have you told the rest of your siblings? he told me there were a lot of you,” she turned to his brothers, if only for a quick distraction from marlon’s injuries and the threat of possibly losing him.
“no, he wouldn’t want it to get back to our parents.” tito said, “some of our siblings have big mouths.”
“have either one of you ever tried to get him to stop?”
“no. we should’ve, but we didn’t.” jackie said as he leaned back in his seat.
“hindsight is twenty, twenty,” tito said, “we gotta figure out the now and if that means putting him to work somewhere else, then that’s what we’ll do. who exactly gave y'all this job?”
“walter yetnikoff—”
“yall took a contract with the russians?”
“rubles convert to the american dollar and that was all that mattered,” georgia said defensively, “we know what we’re doing. this is a first, nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“and it won’t happen again,” tito said, “you’re both done.”
“excuse me—”
“you think either one of you has any business doing this?” tito questioned.
“you let him go on for damn near ten years and now you wanna be older brother of the year? i agree that maybe we need to stop but don’t try to sit up here and act like neither one of us know what we’re doing or like we’re just some kids.” georgia snapped.
jackie gave tito a look before he moved his gaze to georgia. “you’re right, we haven’t been as involved as we should’ve been and you may feel like it ain’t our place to pull you or him out now, but we’re making it our business now. once he’s out of the hospital, we’re pulling him out.”
georgia pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded slowly, “okay…okay. fine, but don’t demand shit from him. he doesn’t like that. he can think for himself, he may be your little brother, but he’s still an adult.”
“he won’t listen to us anyway,” jackie admitted, “but we know someone who can get him to.”
1981, encino, california
“oh my god, look at baby mar mar,” georgia gushed as she picked up an old photo of him as a child.
she recognized jackie as the one holding him and another little boy, who she could only guess was a sibling due to the resemblance. “jackie has been old his entire life,” she commented and marlon let out a surprised laugh.
“gigi…” he cleared his throat as another laugh threatened to leave him, “what the hell?”
“what? he’s literally holding you in his arms, you had to be what, 8 here?” she questioned, looking back down at the photo.
“actually i’m pretty sure i was 11,” marlon said as he took the framed photo from her.
“and who is that?” she asked, pointing to the other child in the photo.
“that’s michael.”
“ah, mr. fire alarm himself,”
“yep, that’s him.” marlon said with a faint smile.
“am i meeting him today?” georgia questioned as marlon put the photo back on the bookshelf.
he shrugged, “it’s kinda hard to get us all in one place at the same time. maybe, maybe not. i’m actually not even sure what this is about. we haven’t had a family dinner in years, or not one that i’ve been called to.”
georgia swallowed and covered her nervousness with a smile. she looked up at him, and couldn’t help but feel like she was looking at a completely different person from the man she met in los angeles at 21 years old. it wasn’t just the new nose, which had healed nicely considering the damage done in the first place. she didn’t like it when his shoulders tensed and his jaw was set as if he was looking for the next threat. even in his childhood bedroom, he seemed to be on edge. anyone who didn’t know what to look for would never be able to tell. it was never in the tone of his voice, he could keep that neutral. it was always in his body language. “relax, baby. no one’s gonna hurt you,” she assured him, as she reached up to cup his jaw.
he furrowed his brow, “i’m fine.”
“you’re tense.”
“i’m nervous,” he told her, “like i said, we haven’t had a family dinner in years. hell, i haven’t seen a lot of my siblings or even my parents since i left. i just wanna know why now after three years.”
“maybe they’re worried. has anyone else been away as long as you have?”
he shrugged, “i only kept up with jackie and tito, and even then i didn’t pry into anyone else’s lives.”
georgia already knew this. when putting it all together she had to talk to, not only the jackson siblings’ mother, but the siblings themselves. jackie and tito let her know that it was best to leave their father out of it since he was the reason for marlon’s issues now. she didn’t like referring to them that way but after vegas, the small things she noticed about how he dealt with trauma were amplified now. he lost focus more often than not, he was quieter than usual, and he jumped at any opportunity to take on a new contract no matter how dangerous it sounded. georgia had kept him from what she could; expressing concern, pointing out the obvious holes in the requests, telling him the money wasn’t worth it and that they were being lowballed.
it was almost as if he didn’t care. marlon had been very picky when it came to his jobs before vegas. they always sat down together to see what made sense and what didn’t. now it was like he was itching for something to do, which was never the way to go about the work they did.
georgia looked back at the black and white photo, and couldn’t help but smile at it again. she wondered how the child in that photo became the man standing next to her today. she hoped tonight would leave her with answers and some understanding of her boyfriend and why he was estranged from some of his family. she knew they would need a support system to deal with whatever fallout came after this, and she hoped his family could be that.
she was also going to need a support system for their next job. one she hadn’t told marlon about yet.
“i don’t think checking in on your siblings is prying,”
marlon simply shrugged, seemingly done with the conversation. georgia sighed and leaned up to press a kiss to his jaw. he returned the kiss by taking her chin and tilting her head upwards to capture her lips with his. she could feel him attempting to part her lips with his tongue and opened her mouth, allowing him inside. they stood there, holding each other and kissing in marlon’s childhood bedroom until a knock interrupted them.
“break it up lovebirds,” a familiar voice called from the doorway.
they both looked up and marlon immediately rolled his eyes, “what do you want randy?”
“mother wants to see what you did to your face.” randy said with a laugh, “you’re like the fourth one to come up in here with a new nose.”
he turned and left, his laughter still heard down the hallway. marlon frowned, “the fourth?” he muttered and georgia raised an eyebrow.
“what are the odds?” she laughed to herself.
the two left the bedroom and made their way downstairs and into the den where katherine jackson sat with randy, tito, and jackie. when she spotted them, katherine immediately stood up and met them halfway before scooping marlon up into a hug. georgia watched as he slowly hugged her back and settled into her, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“marlon david jackson…” she started, sounding angry, but couldn’t seem to hold the venom she had for his absence, “don’t ever do that again.”
“yes ma’am,” he said softly.
she stepped out of their hug and gave him a once over, touching his face, her thumb running down the length of his nose. “what happened?”
“got into a little fight,” he said with a shrug, “you should’ve seen the other guys.”
she didn’t laugh or even crack a smile. “this stops today, marlon.”
he frowned.
“mother—” jackie started.
“no, i’m not waiting for anyone else to get here. i know everything. every little detail that could be tracked down and given to me, i know. it stops today.” she demanded.
marlon’s eyes narrowed and georgia braced herself. this wasn’t what they planned. “what exactly is this family dinner?” he asked, “because it feels more like i’m getting jumped.”
“baby—” georgia began.
“you in on it too?” he asked her.
“well, i’ve been worried for a while and i don’t wanna see you get hurt again. i think we should both stop. we had a great run, baby, a real good one and now we can settle down and—”
“and what start a family? get married? you want that with me? someone you think is so fucked up that you have to lie to me and get my family together to make me quit—”
“marlon, don’t use that language in your mother’s house,” tito warned him.
marlon turned and left the den before making his way to the foyer and exiting the home. he needed air and space to think about what had just happened. the most insulting part was that he hadn’t been working since he had been cleared by a doctor to resume strenuous activities. he was contacted often, but georgia would talk him out of a job if she didn’t like it and so far she hadn’t liked any of them. now he knew why.
why didn’t she just ask him to stop? why resort to blindsiding him with this? and under the guise of a family dinner with people he hadn’t spoken to in years.
“marlon.”
“gia, i need a minute.” he said, not turning around to look at her.
“look, this didn’t go as planned and i’m sorry you’re upset. i just needed you to see that people are worried and want what’s best for you.” georgia said quietly.
“what’s best for me…”
“yeah,” she swallowed, “what’s best for us. you, me, and our baby.”
it came out in a whisper. she hadn’t been ready to tell him, but she hoped the news would calm him down a little.
he turned around then, slowly, and regarded her with a look she couldn’t quite read. she wanted to ask him what he was feeling. georgia desperately needed a reaction from him whether it was good or bad.
“gigi…” he began, before swallowing and watching her face again.
she walked over to him and took his hand in hers, “baby?”
both of them were interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the hill. it stopped in the circular driveway and the person who stepped out of the car looked like the boy in the photo with marlon and jackie.
this must’ve been michael.
he was all smiles as he approached both of them, a sharp contrast to marlon and georgia’s upset faces. when he approached them he seemed to see they were in the middle of a moment and paused. “i can come back…” he said, looking between the two of them, smile fading.
marlon plastered a smile on his face and turned to michael, “hey mikey, long time no see.”
georgia gave him a polite smile, and tried her hardest to not react to marlon’s lack of a reaction to her news.
“well whose fault is that?” michael asked.
marlon tilted his head to the side, “excuse me?”
“you disappeared marlon.”
“michael, right?” georgia interrupted, “we were just headed back inside—”
“i was leaving.” marlon said and she could see from the set of his jaw and feel how tight his grip was on her hand that he was getting more upset by the minute.
michael looked at georgia and gave her a small smile, “and you must be georgia, it’s nice to meet you.”
marlon looked between the two of them and georgia wanted to know how all of this was going wrong so quickly. it seemed as though everyone wanted to deviate from the plan she, tito, and jackie had created to make sure marlon didn’t feel as though he were being attacked. it was clear ms. katherine and michael were more than a little upset at marlon for leaving, staying away, and getting hurt in the line of work his father had introduced him to. this wasn’t supposed to be them airing their grievances, though, this was supposed to be them working to help him get out.
“marlon, your girl put this together for you. the least you could do is stay. for once.”
“michael, i get why you’re mad at him, but please this isn’t what this is for—”
“why would i stay here michael? you want me to be stuck living in everybody’s shadow as the son who can’t do shit? was i never supposed to build anything for myself?”
“and what did you build, marlon? you knock off a couple ‘a no name crime bosses and think you really built somethin’ for yourself?”
“michael.” georgia said a bit louder.
marlon let go of her hand and shook his head, “no, let him talk. what else do you think about me?”
“i think we could’ve helped you before you left, i think you could’ve at least trusted me to listen to you if you felt like you couldn’t talk to mother about it. you used to tell me everything, marlon.”
the look on michael’s face was hard to read. he was upset, georgia might even say mad, but all she saw behind his big brown eyes was someone who really missed their brother.
“i couldn’t tell you and you know that." marlon said quietly.
“yes you could—”
“no i couldn’t, michael. look, i’m not…i’m done with this. the contracts, all of it. i need some time away from everyone though, because this doesn’t feel good.”
michael frowned then, “so you’re just gonna run again?”
marlon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “michael…mikey. give me a week and i promise i’ll be back.”
michael closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around his brother. georgia watched, her chest tight from the events of the day. marlon returned the hug and they both stood there embracing each other. “if you don’t come back—”
“i’ll be back.”
“good.”
“and mikey?”
“yeah, mar?”
“the hell happened to your nose man?”
michael laughed, but didn’t break their hug, “don’t laugh.”
“i won’t.”
“i was giving an award to quincy and fell off the stage.”
marlon snorted, his shoulders heaving, “of course that’s how you break your nose.”
they both laughed with each other as they let go of their embrace and georgia smiled a little at the unshed tears in their eyes.
maybe things would be okay.
los angeles, california, 1984
the explosion at the shrine auditorium had shaken georgia to her core when the news broke in the middle of the day. the phone calls from family and friends asking if she’d heard anything from marlon or if the authorities had contacted her were overwhelming. she had no idea if he was okay and wouldn’t until he came stumbling into their apartment and pulled her and nikki into a crushing hug, murmuring “‘i love you”’s and “i’m okay”’s which helped her anxiety about the situation. he explained what happened as best as he could, but it was haphazard, like his brain was moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. tito would be released from the hospital the next day, but michael was going to have to stay for a while it seemed. joe was playing the role of concerned father, and the jackson siblings were in planning mode, trying to figure out what the next course of action should be.
“marlon,” georgia began, licking her lips, “should you be involved?”
he was holding their sleeping daughter in his arms, his eyes glued to her face as if she’d disappear if he looked away. “of course i’m gonna be involved. someone tried to kill my brothers.” he said trying to keep his voice even.
“that’s not what i mean, i just don’t think you should be involved outside of providing weapons if you’re going to do anything at all,” she said gently.
“gia this ain’t just some hit. tito and mikey are in the hospital.”
“i get that marlon but you…” she took a deep breath as she tried to search for the right words, “you’ve been doing really good where you’re at. contracting wasn’t good for you and going back to handling weapons outside of just selling them may not be the best.”
“i’m not having this conversation with you right now. we can have it later, but i’m not even about to consider not riding for my brothers.”
“hey, we’re a family marlon. you can’t just make a unilateral decision to go and do something like that.”
“gia, they could’ve been killed, someone was killed.”
marlon often wrestled with his place as a former contract killer. he had been ruining families and traumatizing people since he was 15 and knew he was no saint, but being on the receiving end of that panic and terror wasn’t…ideal. he understood necessary evils and knew not every kill was some one off revenge plot; he’d killed what society would deem as bad people. tito and michael weren’t bad people, hell, neither was billy davis. he was just a casualty of whatever war gordy was trying to start with them.
“that’s what worries me.” georgia said with a frown.
“i’m not going to die, gigi.”
“you can’t promise me that.”
he looked up from nikki and closed his eyes, “georgia…”
“marlon, if you go…if you pick up a gun to kill someone, don’t come back here.”
“you gonna change your mind if i use a knife?”
“boy don’t patronize me.”
“then don’t give me ultimatums, especially when my family is involved.”
“we’re your family too!”
“georgia if you think i’m not gonna come back to you, you got another thing comin’.”
“i can use a weapon just as good as you, marlon.”
“oh, okay,” he stood then and went to put nikki on the couch, and kissed her forehead before going into their bedroom.
georgia swallowed and closed her eyes, attempting to count backwards from ten as she listened to marlon rifle around their bedroom. she knew he was packing a bag, and she could tell from the look in his eye from her threat that he was pissed. their emotions were high due to the events of the day and she was mostly trying to keep him from making a terrible decision. his brothers were likely on edge too, and there was no doubt in her mind that they would all do some serious damage behind tito and michael. that kind of energy wasn’t good for anyone, especially marlon.
when she looked up, he was watching her from the doorway of their bedroom with a duffle bag over his shoulder. “you gonna change the locks on me?” he asked her.
“this won’t bring you peace, marlon. tito and michael need you to be there for them, they don’t need you getting yourself killed.”
“i’m at peace when my family’s good and they ain’t. i broke something between me and michael when i left and i’m gonna fix this,”
“we won’t be here when you get back,” she said, eyes burning with tears.
“don’t worry gigi, i’ll always find you.”
there was a time when that would’ve comforted her, but now it scared her. “at least tell me where you’re going now.” she said quietly.
“the apartment near encino, jackie’s meeting me there.”
“okay.”
his hand was on the doorknob, but his eyes were on their daughter, still asleep on the couch, “you really gonna leave me?”
“you’re leaving me right now, so what's the difference?"
he swallowed, “…like i said, i’ll find you.”
los angeles, california, 1991
“it’ll be quick, gigi. i probably won’t even stay for the whole thing.”
“marlon.”
having this discussion mid-diaper change wasn’t ideal, but he had to bring it up sometime. marlon finished fastening his son’s diaper and lifted him off of the changing table with a grin. “tell mommy to let daddy go to encino to see if your grandjoseph really kicked the bucket, deuce,” he whispered to him, causing georgia to roll her eyes.
“grandjoseph?” she snorted.
“i’m workshopping it,” he said settling the baby on his hip, “seriously, i would just be going to confirm and then coming back. you can come with me.”
“you know how i feel about your father. i don’t care if he’s dead or not and i’m not going to mourn him.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “besides that, we’re not pulling nikki out of school to go to a funeral for a man she’s never met.”
“being mad on my behalf ain’t good for you, baby.” marlon said with a frown.
“you forgive too easily.” she shrugged, then returned her son’s gummy smile as he watched her from his father’s arms.
“can’t dwell on it you know? that ain’t good for me,” he says then sighs through his nose, “i won’t go. i’m sure jackie or tito’ll reach out and tell me what’s up.”
“don’t make that kicked puppy face,” georgia groaned and stepped forward to kiss him, “go. tell your mama i said hi, and marlon…”
“yes gia?”
“if he is actually dead, what does this mean for you?”
marlon shrugs, and readjusts deuce in his arms, “doesn’t mean anything, i guess. closure, i can finally stop waiting for him to apologize. not that i ever thought he would, but i can finally make peace with that.”
georgia watched his face for a few minutes and crossed her arms over her chest before letting out a sigh, “you really know how to tug at a girl’s heartstrings. please behave yourself and if anything happens, call me.”
“you gonna come to my rescue if shit gets shaky, mama?” marlon grinned.
she smiled, “i know where you keep that heckler and koch g11, you told me you ‘sold’. if shit gets shaky, i’m coming to get you and then i’m gonna get you.”
marlon stared at georgia then looked down at deuce, who was yawning as if he hadn’t just screamed himself awake 20 minutes prior, “i’m ‘bout to give you an irish twin.”
“marlon,” she laughed, “give me my baby and go see if your daddy is really on the express train to hell.”
he burst into laughter, “gia, what the fuck?”
she held her hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook. “i’m sorry baby, i had to.”
marlon put deuce in georgia’s arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead then his. “tell nikki i’ll see her tonight.” he said with a smile.
“i will, and marlon, seriously if it gets weird, come home. i know you and michael haven’t spoken, but i don’t want to see you go back to that place because you both can’t get past this.”
“michael had every right to do what he did, i’ve made peace with that too. if he wants to make up, fine, if he doesn’t, i have to be okay with that.”
“i think it was a bit much.”
“you’re biased,” marlon smiled wryly, “i fucked up, let my insecurities get the best of me and it cost me a relationship with my brother.”
“i don’t think it’s quite that simple mar, but you’re right, maybe i am biased. i don’t like seeing you hurt and when you came home that day, you were hurting, bad.” she cupped his cheek with her free hand, “in all your healing and self reflection don’t forget that you weren’t the villain in everyone’s story, okay? you’ve told me why you moved the way you did and yes, people were hurt, but you did what you could to preserve whatever good they saw in you. you were spiraling, marlon, i saw it, jackie saw it and tito saw it. your mother saw it too, that’s why she wanted you to meet with michael so badly before he left hayvenhurst, so you could explain yourself.”
“i think nikki was his real breaking point, he might not’ve laid into me the way he did had i not blindsided him with her.”
“did you tell him that i wanted to keep her a secret?”
“we made that decision together, so no i didn’t say that.” marlon said softly, “i don’t think it was wrong, even if everyone wasn’t happy with it. the family doesn’t have the best track record for letting kids be kids and with the work we were doing, i didn’t want to risk it.”
“hell, what we do now isn’t the best thing for her to be exposed to.”
georgia pursed her lips, “have you thought about stopping?”
“have you?” marlon questioned, eyebrows raised in genuine curiosity.
he and georgia always discussed what was next for them. having a baby and a ten year old in the house made their lives as weapons dealers complex. nikki was curious, constantly asking what they did for work, and making hints about career days and meeting other parents so she could go on play dates. telling her that they were in sales was a working for now, but her questions were beginning to evolve as she got older and marlon and georgia, eager to overcorrect behavior from their own childhoods, didn't want to lie to or mislead her.
“yeah, actually. i just don’t know what happens next.” she looked like she wanted to say more, but stopped herself, “but let’s worry about it later. you need to get to your mama’s before traffic gets bad,”
“invitation’s still open,” marlon said as he closed the space between them and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“pass, because if la toya steals my babies again i may have to hurt her,”
marlon snorted a laugh, “she’s a thief, she likes to steal. that includes her niece and nephew.”
sometimes you really gotta stop asking people what they want to read or if they want to read sumn and just write it lol like i get wanting a guaranteed audience for feedback or just general interaction, but ultimately you gotta write for you and let the chips fall where they may.
synopsis: your job at hayvenhurst furniture boutique has its perks.
word count: 863
warnings: mdni 18+. graphic depictions of sex, piv sex, unsafe sex, cum eating, overstimulation, dom!jackie, terms like daddy and babygirl used, filthy, pwp,
an: jackie owns a furniture line and that's all i needed to know.
the luxury furniture market was surprisingly lucrative, which you hated because it meant you were constantly busy with whatever project your boss had for his budding furniture line. the money was good though, and you had a quick rise from the sales floor to the back office and made a name for yourself as a quality control specialist. no piece of furniture was designed without your input and even prototypes had to come to you first for inspection. the newest piece, a sage green daybed with a frame made of recycled plastic and fiberglass, and a plush, lightweight hypoallergenic fabric that was soft and durable. it was easy to clean, a plus for parents of small children who still wanted the luxury look and feel.
you were proud of it with its sleek, modern design, neutral color, and comfortability. it was sure to sell off of the floor the minute it was in stock.
but.
it still needed one more test.
one phone call was all you needed to make and the next thing you knew, your ears were ringing, nerves frayed, and your vision was going in and out with spots appearing every time you tried to focus on what was going on around you. incoherent babbles were the only thing tumbling from your lips as jackie fucked into you, one large hand hiking your thigh around his waist and the other was somewhere, you honestly weren’t sure anymore.
a part of you wasn't even sure if you were still earthside.
your body tensed and after the third round, you couldn’t even tell him you were about to cum. you faintly hear him murmur something in your ear and he’s cumming inside of you, your orgasms rocking in tandem with each other. you go limp and you can feel him peppering your face with kisses as he slowly pulls out of you, leaving you whimpering at the loss of the full feeling he had given you. “shh, it’s okay baby girl. i got somethin’ for you.”
you think he’s done, that he’s about to go and get something to clean you both up with, but instead his fingers are nudging your too-sensitive folds as he pushes inside of you, curling them in a way that makes you cry out. he’s going for a fourth orgasm, something you’re not sure you have in you, but he surprises you when he pulls his fingers out. when you feel him nudging at your lips, they just fall open and you taste your release mingled together with his, your lips closing around his thick digits. you can hear faint whispers of, “good girl, that’s my girl. go ‘head and swallow for me, can you do that? swallow for daddy.”
the muscles in your neck somehow cooperate with your brain and you swallow, groaning around his fingers as tears prick your eyes. “aw, c’mon sweetheart we got one more in us don’t we?” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
you try to talk around his fingers and he just chuckles at you, murmuring about how silly you are and how cute you look like this. “what do you think, baby?” he says softly, “how’s the fabric feel?”
he removes his fingers from your mouth, a trail of your cum and saliva trailing down your chin as he does. you want to laugh because you cannot feel anything let alone the fabric against your back, you don’t even think you’re still on the daybed. he could’ve moved you to his desk for all you knew. “use your words, love.” he instructs you, positioning himself so that the head of his dick teases your folds.
you groan again, and the tears come as you try to will yourself to say something, anything. “tears of joy? you like it that much?” he questions, as he enters you for the fourth? fifth? time.
“it is your design, i knew i could trust you with this one,”
when he bottoms out you sob, trying your hardest to match his thrusts, but you just can’t. you can tell he’s trying his hardest to be gentle, but jackie is only gentle when he talks to you, everything else about him is rough; his sex, his stamina, and his propensity for ensuring the furniture in his line could withstand anything. you had seen him jump on prototypes, leave them outside and drop them when moving them, but your favorite was when he decided he needed to piledrive you through the polypropylene filled fabric.
he’s rocking into you so hard and, faintly, you hear something strange. at first you think it’s you groaning, but the only noise leaving you are just pathetic whimpers. jackie’s busy panting in your ear so it isn’t him.
then a crack.
his arms instinctually wrap around you in a bone crushing hug as you both hit the floor, your eyes widening as you orgasm from the impact.
“baby, babygirl you okay?” and he sounds so alarmed that you almost want to laugh at him.
you just lay there underneath him, staring at the ceiling and finally manage to utter a few words, “no more fiberglass legs.”
𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓷 (drabble) - michael jackson x black female reader
synopsis: michael let you spend an ungodly amount of his money on pretty, frilly pieces from anywhere you wanted. the only contingency of this arrangement was that you had to model them for him. easy enough.
pairings: sugar daddy!michael (mature era) x sugar baby!blackfemalereader
content & warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI — smuuuut, pnp, explicit language, pleasure dom!michael, service dom!michael, ooc!michael, michael loves lingerie, bratty!reader, spoiled!reader, reader is black, age gap, use of "daddy, mama, love, princess" etc., groping and fondling, fingering, mentions of oral (f!receiving), mentions of p n v, praise kink, edging, ass smacking, female body inspection, free use
wc: 1.1k
an: is this even a drabble? chile anyways... i love big daddy and big bratty so bad, i keep thinking about how they got to how they were in worst behaviour soooo this drabble came to be. are you happy to be in paris? is still otw (trying to crank it out today buuut don't hold me to that cause they taking it slow rn and I wanna honor their laaauuuvve). for now - enjoy a lil insight into my fave chaotic couple in the bcu (bee's cinematic universe).
You had an obsession.
Specifically, a lingerie obsession. You had so many bras — lacy, sheer, balconette, demi, push up — and panties? There were so many… thongs, boyshorts, lacy, crotchless, barely there g-strings, cotton, lace, satin.
The inspiration to collect unique pieces came after your first sponsor gave you your first luxury gift from La Perla.
It was an absolutely beautiful set, something to admire.
The silk was lush, and the blush pink fabric contrasted romantically on your deep skin. The balconette cups hugged your bouncy breasts just right, nipples playing the most arousing game of peek-a-boo for whoever would have the pleasure of seeing. Handcrafted lace lined the sides and straps snug to your shoulders. The thong sat low on your waist, complementing the softness of your tummy while adding a little extra flare to how your wide hips curved at the sides of your body to your round, perky ass. Both were intricately embroidered with black roses, the mixture classic and coquette, but interesting, edgy, and breath-taking on you.
It made you feel beautiful. Made you more aware of your power, your femininity.
Michael immediately noticed how much you loved lingerie, as a connoisseur himself.
He let you spend an ungodly amount of his money on pretty, frilly pieces from anywhere you wanted. The only contingency of this arrangement was that you had to model them for him. Easy enough.
And when you did your first haul, he focused all his attention on you. Sat on the foot of the bed, amused, as you tried on every single piece. You blushed as Michael repeatedly told you how gorgeous you were, body adorned in some of the most amazing designs he ever saw in his life. You had impeccable taste. He particularly loved how your eyes lit up while you gushed, talking about how you lucked out in a sale or found a particularly elusive archival set, or about how high quality the material was. He really tried to ground himself. Ignore the feeling of his lap tightening. Ignore his desires. He wished you were closer, so much so that his hands twitched at his sides as he resisted the urge to touch you.
Being around you lately brought him back to another version of himself, one he thought was long gone.
“C’mere, princess.”
You were too wrapped up in your own excitement to notice the signs of his growing arousal. Michael paused for a beat as you stood between his open legs, his eyes darting around to take in the visual treat in front of him.
“You really like it, big daddy?”
“Love it. You’re stunnin’. I am curious about sumn’ though... does the material feel good, love? May I?” Michael’s eyes cut up to yours, running his thumbs over the purple embroidery against your nipples.
He had to know how tingly that made you feel, right?
“Mm, yes… it is very soft,” He mused, one of his hands lowering to feel the softness of your panties… His palm flattened against your mound, rubbing absentmindedly, fingers against the matching floral stitches above your clit, “these are wonderful quality. Such an amazing find, baby.”
He let you squirm for a moment against his touch before chuckling, planting a kiss on your hip and sending you off to try on another pair.
This was a game to him.
So you came out swinging. The red thong set you tried on next made him suck in a breath and groan. He had to get a closer look. You weren’t sure how it happened, but soon you were bent over the now obvious bulge in his lap so he could see the material better, doing quality control. His murmurs of admiration were soft, telling you about the origin of the rare fabric as he teasingly pulled the string between your cheeks, making your pussy pout and eventually spread.
And when you tried on the last set, it was the piest de resistance. He stood behind you in the mirror, kissing on your neck as his hand wrapped around you, thumb sliding rhythmically across the olive green silk between your legs.
“You know I love you in green, princess.” You moaned softly, sliding your trembling hand on top of his for more pressure until the silk had a visible wet patch right on the gusset, his thumb covered in your wetness.
Every try on session after that went left.
His lingerie inspections got more and more thorough, making you so wet that you soaked through every single pair. Sometimes you touched yourself in them, propping your leg up next to him on the bed as he watched intently. Sometimes he stuffed them in your open mouth as he fucked you from behind to enjoy your muffled moans, so good and deep it made you drool. He kept his favorites, admiring the slick seat and scent of you before putting them in his pocket all day for “good luck”. It stung that you never saw them again.
But he went too far one day and ripped a pair trying to get them off you. You scowled when he did it the first time, and your irritation amused him so much that he adopted it into a routine.
It made you so mad every time you heard that familiar tearing sound. But it was hard to stay mad when his apologies were mixed into the sounds of him slurping your pussy, or through his teeth as he served you deep strokes in missionary, the egregious evidence of his inability to control himself dangling off one of your legs.
Post-nut clarity would settle and you’d be mad all over again. Sure, he was the one buying them but there was no need to keep shredding such lovely garments into pieces just to touch you when you’d gladly take them off.
One time in particular, you voiced your frustrations directly.
“You need to set up a whole discretionary fund at this point to buy me new panties.”
“And why is that?” Michael asked in casual amusement. “I woulda thought I was successfully influencin’ you to stop wearin’ ‘em around me, instead of encouragin’ you to buy more.”
And there it was, his agenda.
You huffed. “But I like themmm… and these are really expensive, big daddy. Too much money for you to be clawin’ and shredding them to pieces.”
“I bought them, princess. I know how much they cost.”
“I have to repurchase the sets just to replace them.”
“And I have no problem with that….” You heard his sentence trail off, unfinished.
“- but you’re still going to rip them off me.”
He grinned, nodding. “If I feel like it, princess, yes. Anything else?”
You pouted and he stroked your cheek gingerly, kissing your temple in reply to successfully end his contribution to the conversation. Michael always found you extra cute when you pouted but he’d never tell you that. He had to maintain some mystery.
“Fix your face, unless you want me to fix it for you.”
