anytime i hear ‘girl i could thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try’ i think my brain actually short-circuits and i burst into flames — like oh no michael ! the ghouls are here, come thrill me dada !
SYNOPSIS: after what took place between you and michael which was the result for a rift in your relationship and the cause of a six week separation, you both have finally came out to the media about your soon to be marriage. the media and his fans did not take this piece of information lightly and now you have to figure out how you’re going to handle all the overwhelming pressure of being the famous michael jackson’s soon to be wife.
WARNINGS: fem!reader, angst, reader has self doubt, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, small description of how reader and michael got together, protective!michael, possessive!michael, anxious!reader, this is michael’s redemption arc i fear, happy ending, no use of y/n
WC: 3.2k (this was meant to be way longer but i got a bit lazy soz)
AN: okay first of all this is a sequel to oscar winning tears so if you haven’t read that fic, please go and read it! for reference to the title ‘running up that hill’ (yes another music song lol) idk i just felt like this song can help you guys imagine some of the feelings that reader is going through within this fic.
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
neverland ranch, october 7th 1995
its been a month since the mtv awards. which means its been only four weeks since you and michael have announced to the public about not only your long term relationship but also your engagement.
at first it was okay.
you remember going into that after party with michael, hand in hand and enjoying the whole night. of course, you expected the media to pick up on it quickly but not that quickly.
literally the next day, you and michael were plastered on the front of every single newspaper.
‘michael jackson's mysterious lover.’
when you first saw that you couldn't help the way your heart was beating outside of your chest. you were scared because now everyone knew your face, your name, where you went to school, where you worked.
they knew everything.
and you already knew that your life would change because hello, you're about to get married to the biggest pop star in existence, but you didn't think that you'll become as famous as him.
now, just a month later from the public hearing about you. your whole life has changed drastically.
you have now permanently moved in with michael at neverland. you were already planning to move in with him anyways but unfortunately it happened more sooner than you thought.
as soon as you both left new york, all you did was try and go to your apartment to grab a couple of clothes, and instead of doing that, you had to hide in a random shop because your apartment complex was flooded with paparazzi. you remember calling michael immediately, and telling him that it's almost impossible for you to get into your apartment because of how crowded it is.
since that day, michael made sure that you've not only permanently moved into neverland but also that whenever you go out without him, you have your own personal security detail.
at first it sounded fun and you felt somewhat important, but now it just feels suffocating.
it’s like you can’t do anything without the public judging you for it. now you understand how michael has been feeling this whole time.
oh and let’s not even get started on the letters.
yes, you’ve been sent letters.
from michael’s fans. some of them are nice. congratulating you on the engagement, or saying nice things like you’re pretty, or you and michael are the perfect dream couple, but some of them are so disgustingly mean and disrespectful that it’s a shocker that michael has fans that are literal bullies, all because you’re dating him and they’re not.
“baby are you awake?” you hear michael’s sleepy voice from beside you. “i can hear you thinking.”
you let out a small smile at his words, turning around so you and him are face to face.
“yeah ive been awake for a while. m’ just nervous about today.” michael wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you so you’re flush against him.
“i know you are. it’s okay to be scared.” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead.
“you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” he suggests, and just the thought of him telling you that you don’t have to do an interview that is practically set up so the whole world can get to know you better, is so heartwarming.
because you and him both know that you don’t have to do it, but it’s the fact that if you don’t, the media will get you one way or another.
“i know.” you mumble, playing with the collar of his pyjama shirt. “but i don’t know,” you shrug, “i think it’ll be best if i just get it over and done with. and maybe people can see that i’m actually not a ‘money hungry bitch’ like they’ve been saying for the past couple of weeks.”
michael immediately frowns at your words. “baby… i told you to stop reading the tabloids. they’re always negative and no matter what you do, they’ll continue. all you have to do is ignore them like i said.”
you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your face in the crook of his neck so he can’t see the tears that are springing to your eyes.
“im sorry.” you apologise, your voice slightly muffled from your position.
“stop,” michael says softly, “you don’t need to apologise for something that’s not your fault. all you’re doing is existing and like i said, the media finds a problem with everything.”
you sniff, pulling back so you can look your fiancée in his eyes. “i just sometimes wish you wasn’t so famous and i wasn’t such an average girl from california. i just want your fans to like me.”
“it doesn’t matter what they think. all that matters is, i love you, so very much. and i plan to spend the rest of my life loving you. nothing that the fans say will ever change that okay.” you look down at his words making michael hook your chin with his finger so you’re staring straight into his eyes. “i said okay?”
“okay.” you nod. “but i still want to do the interview.”
“are you a hundred percent sure?”
“yes, michael. i want to do it.” you lie. yes, you want to do the interview but that’s only because you can’t help but wanting to be loved by the people. you don’t want them to think that you’re some evil woman who their idol happens to be marrying. you want them to see how much of a genuine soul you are.
god, you hate being such a people pleaser.
“okay. we’ll do it. but baby, if you feel uncomfortable once in that interview just say the word and ill end it.”
you nod, giving him a small peck on the lips. “of course. now let’s get ready before we’re late.”
your hands are shaking.
and you can't stop your leg from bouncing.
you and michael are both sitting on a couch in a well lit studio, waiting for the interviewer to get her team ready so you guys can go on air.
just knowing that you’re going to be live is nerve racking.
michael puts a hand on your knee, stopping you from bouncing it.
"it's okay." he whispers. "you'll be fine."
you nod, grasping michael's hand that's placed on your knee.
the interviewer comes from backstage, sitting across from you with a soft smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"are you guys ready?" she asks.
you nod, but michael speaks up. "do you mind if i see the question sheet before we start?"
"of course." the interviewer says, passing michael the sheet. you can't exactly see what's on it, and you're sure you don't want too. but michael looks through it thoroughly and circles the questions that he deems appropriate. "if you don't mind, those questions are the only ones we'll be answering today." he says with a smile.
"that's fine by me." the woman nods, before you hear the director shout 'quiet on set!'
"hi," the interviewer smiles at you both. "i'm here this morning with michael jackson and his newly found fiancée..." she trails off looking at you, so you could tell her your name
"i—" you go to tell her your name but michael immediately cuts you off.
he tells her your name, followed by, "i'm sure you already knew her name from the papers." you can't help the way his hand tightens around yours, already signalling that he's getting a bit annoyed.
"of course, apologises. it just seemed to slip my mind." the interviewer laughs.
"hmm." michael hums.
you look up, locking eyes with michael's social media manager who accepted this interview on behalf of you two and you see the slight shake of her head in discontent of michael's actions.
"anyways, ill like to congratulate you both on your engagement."
"thank you." you smile.
"and ill just like to ask, how did you keep the relationship a secret for that long? i mean you're not only in a relationship, but you're engaged. we all thought you were a single man michael and suddenly you pop up out of the blue with a woman?”
“uhh…” michael starts. “i never actually specified before if i was single or dating. it’s just that we both,” he smiles at you, “felt like we needed privacy, away from the media, away from the tabloids. just something that we can enjoy, just the two of us, until we both were ready for the world to know about our relationship.”
“fair enough.” the woman nods, before directing her next question at you.
“and you, how were you able to catch the eye of the michael jackson. from what im aware of you were just a normal woman, working a normal job, then you show up on his arm? how did that happen?”
you laugh, “i— uh i actually don’t know. i saw him a couple times, at his tours, or at some of his signings and then one day, he noticed me. he noticed me and we started talking, being on the phone together every night until he finally asked me on a date. sometimes when i think back at it, it doesn’t really seem real, that that’s how it happened, but yeah.” michael gives your hand a small squeeze, letting you know that you’re doing well so far.
“so you were one of his fans?” the interviewer questions, raising a single brow.
you let out a nervous laugh. “i mean… yeah, if you put it that way.”
“and how do you now deal with being in the spotlight? is it overwhelming? do you regret—”
“i didn’t circle that question.” michael interrupts, pointing at the notebook the woman is holding.
“right.” she laughs, “sorry.”
you bite your lip nervously, as the interviewer starts to sprout out questions directed at michael, asking about his upcoming tour. asking him about his album that was released this year, just completely forgetting that you’re in the room. which surprisingly you’re totally fine with, you were already nervous being here, and after being asked all these questions that had your heart racing, you finally feel like you can breathe again.
“i think what the people want to know is, when’s the wedding?” your ears perk up at that question because you and michael haven’t exactly agreed on a date.
“we’re planning to do it very soon, but unfortunately we can’t give out the date since we are both very private people, and we’ll love if we can have some sort of privacy the day that we marry.” your heart warms at his words, because that’s all you want.
“and do you guys plan to have kids in the future? have you spoken about kids, because michael you’ve always wanted to be a dad correct?”
“yes i want to be a father.” michael states, “and yes we’ve spoken about kids, multiple times. but we’ll choose to have them when we’re ready.”
“okay so i want to get this off my chest, before we start wrapping up this interview, but there’s a little tiny bit of gossip going around.” the interviewer starts.
your heart rate starts to pick up at her words.
“so what ive been seeing is, at the mtv awards, you and michael were caught having a heated argument.”
you swallow at her words because you know exactly what moment she’s talking about. the moment where michael scoped you out outside of the ladies bathroom and practically dragged you to his dressing room.
“i didn’t circle that question.” michael grits out, his hand tightening around yours.
“i know but—”
“but nothing.” he snaps. you and everyone else in the room seems to be shocked at his tone. you’ve seen the interviews when michael has been talked down on and berated, but he’s always responded with calm and calculated responses. “i already told you that we’re private people, and what goes on in our relationship is no one else’s business. so like i said, i didn’t circle that question.”
“right. apologies mr jackson.” the interview takes in a deep breath before planting the fakest smile ever on her face. “so i guess that’s the end of today’s interview, thank you both so much for attending.”
“thank you.” michael smiles, before standing up with your hand in his and walking off set.
once you both reach his dressing room, he immediately cups your face.
“you okay?”
“im fine, mike.” you smile, even though your hands are still shaking.
“good.” he nods. “even though that interview may have been a bit difficult but it’s definitely one of the more tamer ones.”
“i can tell.” you laugh.
michael looks up over your head, and you turn around and see his social media manager beckoning him over.
“im going to get security to escort you to the car, just wait there and ill be there in a second, okay.” he looks in your eyes, making sure that you’ll be okay if he goes to have a talk with his social media manager.
“that’s fine, ill be okay.”
“okay.” michael nods, placing a short kiss on your lips before signalling security, to escort you out.
almost immediately you are ushered out of the studio, and towards the car that is on the other side of the road.
what you didn't expect when you stepped outside was a massive crowd, filled with screaming fans and cameras flashing.
you cover your eyes, the flashing lights blinding, as you let one of the guards pull you towards the car that seems so far away.
"hey! back up!" one of the security yells, but you don't see, you can't see because everything is so bright with all the flashing.
you hear them scream your name, asking you all sorts of questions.
"where's michael?"
"is the relationship really genuine?"
"are you using him for his fame and money?"
“who actually are you?”
“were you really his fan?”
you try and shut out all the yelling but it's getting difficult when you're getting shoved in multiple directions. there's too little security and too many people trying to get at you, and you still don't understand why?
yes you're michael's significant other but you're not him. you shouldn’t be bombarded like this when you’re not even a pop star.
just a little more further to go, you're nearly to the car and then you can finally breathe.
"i said back up!" you hear the security who has a tight grip on your arm yell.
the guard let's go of your arm so he can push some people back, leaving you somewhat vulnerable.
the pushing and shoving starts to get worse the closer you get to the car. you let out a gasp when one of the security guys stumbles into you from the force of the crowd, causing you to trip over your dress.
the only thing you remember apart from the roaring crowd in your ears is falling on the ground hard. you let out a whimper in pain at the sharp, pain in your wrist and knees.
instantly, you're being helped up on your feet. "miss, are you okay? are you hurt?" one of the security men ask you, his hands gripping your shoulders. this was the one that stumbled into you, causing you to fall.
"im okay." you mumble, biting your lip to stop your tears from falling. you cradle your wrist in your other hand, dropping your gaze so the crowd and the cameras can't see the pain and embarrassment written all over your face.
after what feels like forever, of pushing, shoving and yelling from the crowd and security, you finally reach the car. once you sit in your seat, you let out a big breath. you ignore the soreness of your wrist, keeping your head down, not even realising that the car is driving off without michael inside.
you still don't even realise that the car pulled round to the back of the studio, where there's no crowd.
and you definitely didn't hear the car door open, and the sound of michael getting in the car beside you, followed by bill and two other security guys.
“hey, baby.” michael says, placing a hand on your sore knee which you’re pretty sure has a bruise forming.
your leg jerks at his touch, causing him to frown.
“you okay?” he asks, leaning his head down so he can catch your gaze.
you look up at him, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. you see the change in michael’s facial expressions when he realises that something is wrong.
“what happened?” you continue to stare at him, not knowing the best way to say that his beloved fans were the reason you accidentally got hurt.
michael sees the look on your face and immediately looks up to bill and the other security that are also in the car with you.
“what happened? i left her alone for five minutes and now my girl is lookin’ like she’s about to burst into tears?”
“sir—” one of the security men starts.
“bill?” michael questions, raising a brow.
“i didn’t get told anything, i was with you the whole time.” bill shrugs, looking at michael in confusion.
michael sighs, looking back down at you who still hasn’t said a single word.
“baby, what happened?”
“it wasn’t that bad.” you mumble, your voice just about heard over your laboured breathing.
your chest feelings unusually tight.
“tell me what happened, and ill determine whether it was bad or not.”
you shrug, telling him everything. how you got taken out the front entrance, completely being swarmed by his fans, and how your security detail got so overwhelmed with the amount of people that one of them knocked into you, causing you to fall.
by time you were done telling them everything, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
“…i’m sorry. i probably made it sound worse that it actually was.” you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. you’re pretty sure that your makeup that you made sure was absolutely perfect for today’s interview is now ruined.
michael pulls you into his chest, wrapping both of his arms around you.
“m’ so sorry, my sweet girl.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your head.
“it’s okay.” you mumble, soaking in the warmth that is coming from his body.
“no it’s not. you could’ve gotten seriously hurt. and bill, i’m going to need to you to have a word with your team because there’s absolutely no reason why they didn’t take her out the back entrance when they know the front is always packed with fans.”
bill nods in understanding, whispering something to the man beside him.
“you didn’t get hurt did you?” michael asks, looking down at you.
“my knee is sore and my wrist aches a bit but apart from that i’m fine.” you manage a small smile. michael lifts up your wrist that you didn’t even realise you were cradling, and placing a small kiss on it.
“sorry.” he whispers, kissing your wrist again.
you smile, your first genuine smile since you woke up in his arms this morning. “you’re so sweet to me, mikey.”
he hums, dropping a kiss on your lips. “maybe it’s because there’s nothing and no one on this planet that i love more than you.”
you’re smiling so wide that your cheeks are starting to hurt. “that’s so cheesy.” you laugh.
“i know.” he smiles back, as you lay your head back down on his chest and enjoy the car ride back to neverland.
for the first time today, you’ve finally realised that as long as you have michael by your side, everything should be okay.
this will sound crazy but sometimes i genuinely feel like some michael fans view this man as white. it’s already annoying enough because a lot of people are still ignorant about his vitiligo, thinking michael could control it, which is insensitive in itself. the reason why i believe some michael fans view him as white is through some fan art, the way he’s written in some fanfic, and overall perceived in and by the media. i know what i am saying is not anything new, but it is bothering me, while having the knowledge that michael, when alive, was always proud to be a black man, and had to basically force people to see that. you’re contributing to a harmful narrative if you do view michael as a white man, in any way, shape, or form, that’s an undeniable fact. i could go on about why i feel this way and how i do think that even some of his non-black fans are a contributor to why, not just press, weirdly enough, if that makes sense, even a little. because my conversation on how some non-black fanfic writers exclude black readers when it comes to making michael x reader fics ties into this a bit. also, going back to fan art, and how some non-black artists draw michael to have skin as pale as an actual white man, which is, problematic in itself. i am not even trying to offend anyone, it’s just something that’s been on my mind for a while.
SYNOPSIS: a big argument between you and michael broke out mere days after he asked you to marry him. you didn’t think it was that serious, which is why you didn’t break off the engagement but michael being the petty man he is, refused to speak or see you for weeks. which leads to you attending the mtv 1995 awards, just to see him.
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI — fem!reader, secret relationship, angst angst angstttttt, hurt/comfort, makeup sex, public sex, petty!michael, toxic ish!michael, reader lowkey folds but who wouldn’t?, janet being the queen that she is, happy ending, no use of y/n
WC: 6.6k (guys i think i cooked a bit too much)
AN: this is based off of when michael ghosted lisa marie for six weeks and the only way she could see him was when he was performing. but also keep in mind that this is a work of fiction and the events in this fic shouldn’t be taken as an accurate piece of media! for reference to the title, i was listening to “oscar winning tears” and that’s how i got inspired for this fic lol.
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
neverland ranch, july 27th 1995
“michael you can’t be serious.” you say, watching the way your now fiancée is pacing right in front of you.
he stops his pacing, looking at you like you just told him to go fuck himself.
“i am serious, baby.” he starts, “what part of me askin’ for us to make our relationship public to the media and you moving in with me is a joke?”
you sigh. “mikey, i love you. and i want to marry you, i do. but im just not ready for my face to be revealed on every single newspaper or magazine yet. or for i don’t know,” you throw your hands in the air, “your crazy fans harassing me all because im getting married to their celebrity sweetheart.”
he pinches the bridge of his nose, like this whole talk you’re having with him is raising his blood pressure. “okay let me ask you this one thing.” he says.
you nod.
“you knew what you were getting into when we first started dating, right?”
“well yeah, but—”
“let me finish.” he snaps, holding up a singular finger.
you let out a scoff in disbelief, at the snappiness of his tone.
he’s never spoke to you like that before.
“when we started dating, i told you what it would be like dating someone like me. i even refused many many times because i never wanted you to have to deal with the media or the tabloids. but it was you that was persistent. it was you that wanted me so bad to the point you never cared about what anyone else thought. it was me who decided to keep the relationship secret because i didn’t want you to get hurt. i didn’t want you to have to deal with all of that pressure. and now because i’d rather let the world know who my wife is on my terms instead of the media leaking it, it’s a problem?”
“no, no of course it’s not baby, but—”
“but what?”
you close your mouth at his words, not even attempting to speak. michael is normally a calm and collected person who seems to have a lot of patience. but now at this moment, he’s giving you no grace at all.
“okay listen.” you start, speaking slowly. you’re trying not to say the wrong thing because one thing you’ll hate to do is make this situation even bigger than it needs to be. “i love you. i want to marry you. i hope to someday start a family with you, but when i said all those things about the media finding out about us, yes i still don’t care what they think because my love for you outweighs all of that worry. but it doesn’t erase the fact that im scared. im scared of what people will think because it’s not like im just a girl that you’re sleeping with, or your date to an award show. i’m going to become your wife soon and that’s, michael that’s a crazy jump. and damn me for wanting to enjoy the buildup of us getting married without the unnecessary stress of people finding out about us.”
you take in a lungful of air, after spilling out everything you’ve been bottling up since michael has made it known that he wanted to make you guys’ relationship public.
“mikey, please say something.” you whisper, when you see him take a seat at the other side of the couch. he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at the ground.
“there’s nothing to say.” he shrugs. “you’re not ready so im going to have to accept that.”
“what does that mean?” you ask.
“it means, come back to me when you’ve made up your mind.” he gets up from the couch, walking to the phone on the other side of the room.
“what do you mean, ‘come back to me’ like i work for you or something?” you snap, your tempter starting to rise.
you’ve been so calm throughout this whole conversation but now you just feel angry.
it’s like he can’t understand that you need time. you need time so you can mentally prepare yourself for your life to be completely turned around.
he stays silent, jamming his finger into the numbers before he lifts up the phone and puts it to his ear.
“michael are you even listening to me?” you stand up walking towards him so you two are face to face.
well not exactly face to face since he’s a couple inches taller than you.
he looks down at you and the look on his face makes you take in a deep breath without realising it.
it’s not the normal, loving look he gives you all the time. i mean of course, you can tell that he still loves you a lot because otherwise he would’ve never been so angry. but the look that is pointed right now at you is somehow distant. like he’s looking straight through you, and closing himself in a tiny box.
he’s secluding himself from you already and you both are still together in the same room, inches away from each other.
the person on the other side of the phone seems to pick up because he looks away from you and focuses on something above your head. “hi, yes i need you to send a car up, immediately.”
you gasp, grabbing his arm. he’s sending that car to come and get you.
“michael don’t do this.” you plead. tightening your hold on his wrist but he doesn’t even move an inch. he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore.
he’s shut you out.
“baby we can talk about this. we’re engaged remember. all im asking for is some time to think but this is too much. don’t hide from me.” you beg, your lip starting to quiver at the thought of him dismissing you so quickly without giving you a chance.
“okay, thank you.” he says, hanging up the phone and placing it back where it was. “the car should be here in a second to take you home.” he mutters, shrugging off your hold on his wrist and walking past you towards the spacious kitchen.
you follow him, tears springing to your eyes. you ignore the chef who’s at the stove cooking, and go to michael who’s opening the fridge, and taking out a carton of orange juice.
“michael.” you whimper, your chest starting to feel tight.
he ignores you, opening the cabinet and taking out a fresh glass.
“michael why are you doing this?” you say. “what happened to talking about things? why can’t you have a civil conversation without shutting people out whenever they don’t agree with you?” at this point tears are already starting to fall freely down your face, messing up your makeup.
you’re hurt. you’re hurt that he’s angry at you all because you want to protect yourself.
he should be able to understand. he should be able to see how terrified you are about the world finding out about you.
“michael!” you shout, openly sobbing in the kitchen and not giving a fuck about the chef staring at you like you’re insane.
you hate it when he does this. he does this every time he’s upset or angry. he just stops talking, stops acknowledging your presence. it’s like in his world, you don’t exist.
and you hate that he’s doing this to you. the woman that he went down on one knee to propose to a couple days ago. the woman that he says everyday is the love of his life. the woman that he wants to have kids with.
at that thought, you put your hands over your face, sobbing into your palms.
“the car should be here now.” you hear him say over your sobs.
you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “okay.” you whimper. you turn to leave, because no matter how much you plead, or beg for him to just listen to you, you know that he won’t. once he’s made up his mind, no one is changing it.
“i love you mikey. ill never stop loving you okay.” you stand there in the kitchen, waiting. waiting to see if there’s a change in his expression or even if he’s going to tell you that it’s all a big fat joke and you can still stay the night like you were meant to.
but no.
he says nothing, in fact he even turns his back on you so the only thing you can see is the back of his head.
with one final glance his way, you walk out of neverland ranch, hoping and praying that you’ll get to come back.
17th august, 1995
it’s been three weeks.
three weeks of voicemails, and you trying everything in your power to get michael to pick up the damn phone.
you never thought he’ll take it this far.
and to make matters worse, the times you’ve tried to visit the ranch, he hasn’t been there.
it’s like he’s actively, avoiding you.
the only times you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of him is from the screen of your television or from the tabloids.
and from the looks of it, he’s living his best life out there.
from the moments you’ve seen, he doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t look miserable. he looks… happy to mingle with his fans. and definitely happy to not be in your presence.
you feel sick. you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself for trying to grasp just a pinch of his attention just for him to prance around and act like you don’t exist.
this is the longest you guys have ever spent apart since you both started dating a year and a half ago.
it’s either you would spend a couple nights at the ranch with him or he’ll come and stay at your apartment.
even when he would go on his tours, you’ll always be there in the audience, making your appearance known.
hell, even his family know who you are, and they seem to love you.
you remember when you first started dating michael and you both tried to keep it under wraps but his family found out in mere weeks.
you’ve even been at their home in havenhurst a couple times.
just the thought, that you’ll probably never go back there and see sweet katherine again, has your stomach forming a knot.
but unfortunately you can’t let yourself go on like this. at the end of the day you are a woman before anything else and you can’t be sitting here being stringed along by a man.
even if that man is michael jackson.
31st august, 1995
it’s been two more weeks and at this point you don’t give a single fuck.
a couple weeks ago, you were still calling his landline, crying when the machine told you to leave a message all because you missed him, and all you wanted was for him to hold you in his arms and tell you it’ll be okay.
but now… fuck him.
honestly, fuck michael jackson.
at first you were calling him so he could just hear you out, and so you guys could fix whatever problems you both seemed to have but now the calls starting turning more serious.
you’re calling him so he can come and take the ring back.
it’s been five weeks of him ignoring your calls, or him refusing to be home when you try and visit him and all you’ve been doing inbetween, apart from crying your eyes out, is looking down at your left hand and seeing the big, 10 carat ring that is sitting comfortably on your finger.
if ghosting his fiancée is the new thing for breaking off an engagement then so be it.
because you’re not going to be here looking so goddamn stupid, when he’s there enjoying his life without you.
and to think all of this was because you wanted to wait just a couple more months before exposing your relationship to the world.
and that’s why you decided to do what you’re about to do.
you never wanted to get his sister involved. or anyone else involved, but at this point you’re desperate.
you’ve even tried to reach out to bill, quincy and even some of the staff at neverland and they’ve all told you the same thing.
“michael is busy.”
busy.
busy doing what? torturing your whole being with his silence?
and now you’ve sought out his baby sister because if it’s anyone that can get michael to talk to you so he can take back the ring, it’ll be her.
“hello.” janet’s voice immediately flows through the phone.
you bite your lip, tears starting to form because for the past five weeks, all you’ve wanted was to hear the warmth of michael’s voice and janet, she just sounds so similar to him.
janet says your name, causing you to clear out your throat so she doesn’t know that you’re fighting back tears right now.
“sorry.” you sniff. “um i just wanted to ask if you know where i can find michael because he’s been ignoring me… for so long and i-i need to give him back the ring.”
silence.
just pure silence on the other side of the phone.
you didn’t hear the click to indicate that she hung up on you so she should still be on the phone. why isn’t she saying anything?
“janet?” you ask.
“im sorry.” she clears her throat. “what do you mean you need to give him back the ring? what on earth has happened?”
you start to tell janet about everything, from the beginning where you and michael started arguing at the ranch five weeks ago, till when he practically told you to leave his home and has been ignoring your calls and visits ever since. at this point you couldn’t even hide the fact that you were crying.
“…i didnt even realise he was going to go this far janet. all i-i wanted was for us to talk about it and come to some sort of conclusion, as couples should do.” you sob.
“oh honey, im so sorry. if he wasn’t in new york right now ill go and kick his fuckin’ ass.”
you laugh at her words, despite the fact your nose is all snotty and your mascara is damaged from your endless tears.
you’ve never cried so much in your life ever. these five weeks have made you feel like all you do is cry.
but then you realise what she actually just said. “wait he’s in new york?” you ask.
“yeah, he flew over there early for a couple of press conferences, and signings before the mtv awards. him and i both got nominations for our music video ‘scream’.”
“oh my god, congratulations!” you say.
you’re only congratulating janet, it’s just unfortunate that michael is nominated as well. it’s such a horrible thought since you can’t help but love him so very much. but you’re hurting. just the thought of him makes your heart clench in your chest.
“well i hope you win,” you smile, emphasising on her winning. “but whenever you see michael just tell him from me that he needs to come and get his ring back.” your smile drops, at that thought.
because giving him the ring back is the last thing you want to do.
but you’ve been waiting for weeks just to hear a simple ‘hi’ from him and you’ve got nothing.
and you have to have some sort of respect for yourself.
“why don’t you come to the award show?” janet says, causing your mouth to drop.
“oh no—”
“yes! you have to come. you can fly with me and i can easily get you a seat in the front row. you know what yes, you’re coming. let me add you onto my list right now.”
“janet—”
she cuts you off, saying your name in such a tone that has you clamping your lips shut.
“you’re coming. pack a couple of clothes, we will be flying out in a couple of days. ill send you a car to pick you up and take you to the private airport.”
“janet, you really don’t have to.” she scoffs on the other side of the phone.
“no but i want to. and also i want you to be there when i give my brother a piece of my mind. because one thing you’re not going to is disrespect a woman, not just any woman, his fiancée.”
you go to argue with her again but you stop yourself. you’re so tired, so fucking tired of battling this all by yourself that it feels so relieving having someone take your side. even if that person is his sister.
“thank you. janet, thank you so much.”
“you don’t have to thank me. we’re going to be sisters soon, see you in a couple days.” as soon as she uttered those words, she hangs up the phone.
you didn’t even have enough time to tell her that you’re still giving michael back his ring and there would be no wedding for you both to be sister in laws.
NYC, september 7th 1995
you feel like you’re about to be sick.
this is the first time you will be seeing michael in six goddamn weeks and you feel like you’re going to throw up in your seat.
and to make matters worse, you’re sitting next to some a lister celebrity that keeps on giving you looks and wondering how the hell you even got a ticket, and especially one for the first row.
you swallow, your eyes shifting to the empty seat beside you that michael will be sitting in after he finishes performing.
just the thought of you watching him on stage, knowing that you’re about to hand him back the ring afterwards is another reason why you just may throw up.
the night has already been going on for quite some time, and you’ve been shifting nervously wearing a beautiful black dress, with a slit in the thigh.
it just so happens that it was michael who bought you that dress, the night he proposed to you.
after the first half of awards were presented, the curtain starts to lower and the whole place goes pitch black. the audience starts to scream when the curtain starts to rise and michael. your michael, steps onto stage.
you gasp, because he just looks so beautiful and majestic, which he has no right to be because you’re so very mad at him.
and it’s so hard being mad, when the first thought that entered your mind after not seeing him for six weeks was that you can’t wait to fuck him. even though you know that you’re never going to feel him inside you again.
damn him for making you feel this way.
you look down at your left hand and play with your ring nervously, watching the way the mixtapes of his music hit and how he immediately came alive on stage.
you sit there, staring in admiration at the way he floats around the stage like he owns it.
after about five minutes of his performance, he stops and everyone claps, congratulating him.
i mean you may want to strangle him or fuck him or both. but you can’t deny that he did amazing on that stage tonight.
“thank you.” he says in the mic.
“thank you so much.”
“i love you.” he points to a screaming fan in the audience.
you clench your eyes shut when he says that, wishing that you could hear him say that to you just one more time.
“some of us… likes to play it safe. and take each day as it comes.” he starts. “some of us like to take that crazy walk on the wild side.” you hear a couple of people scream when he says that.
“so… for those of us who like living dangerously. this one’s for you.” and with that he runs to the back of the stage, as dancers start filtering on, distracting us from him switching outfits.
you shake your head, letting out a small laugh at the fact that you thought he was done performing. your laugh immediately stops when his dancers reveal him wearing a suit and tie, with a black hat on.
he starts performing this part of the performance and it’s honestly like he’s trying to seduce you from the stage.
you cross your legs over each other, squeezing your thighs to try and get some sort of friction because there’s no way he’s there humping the air, grabbing his crotch and running his hands down his chest with orgasm worthy expressions on his face, without you getting turned on.
you let out a breath when the music stops and he grabs a mic saying his thanks to the crowd. you don’t think you would’ve been able to take any more of his dirty dancing without at least losing your mind.
this whole time, he still hasn’t noticed you and you’re glad. you’ll probably burst into tears if he locks eyes with you and acknowledges your presence.
“thank you. and for those of you, who made this record number one, i dedicate this to you.”
when the music hits, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt, that’s when you knew it was a huge mistake coming to this award show.
you should’ve stood your ground and told janet no.
because this is your favourite song from michael and he loves to sing it to you all the time, so just hearing him singing this song on stage infront of thousands of people makes your heart lurch in your chest.
as the song goes on, there’s already tears swarming your vision. he walks to the edge of the stage, taking in the audience as he’s singing, and that’s when his eyes fall on you.
“though we’re far apart…” you let a few tears drop when you see him point straight at you when he sings the words with a raise of his brow and a small smirk.
you scoff, wiping your tears with the pad of your finger. how dare he find this amusing after he’s just literally broken your heart, and made you experience twenty different emotions in the span of his fifteen minute performance.
after that song finishes, everyone including you stand up to give him a round of applause.
he smiles on the stage, giving everyone a bow. his eyes lock with yours again, but this time instead of holding the eye contact, you look down at the ground.
you hate that he has you feeling this way. at this point you just may hate him.
the awards continue on as normal and you start to feel more comfortable, watching all these artists get their awards.
you were a bit too comfortable that you forgot about the empty seat beside you until you smelt that familiar cologne.
you look up, your eyes widening when you take in michael wearing a black leather biker jacket with his collars popped out, and a matching pair of black trousers. oh and let’s not forget the signature sunglasses that he always wears.
he sits down silently in the chair beside you, getting comfortable with his legs spread so wide, you’re surprised they didn’t bump into yours.
you clear your throat awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest and focusing on the two celebrities who are making their way onto the stage.
they start to read out the award and the nominees and you hear ‘scream’ get mentioned. everyone starts to clap including you, and that’s when you see the camera pan to michael who you didn’t notice was staring right at you. he saves himself by pointing to the camera with a shit eating grin.
the camera was already able to catch your face but you still decide to look in the other direction.
“and the winner is,” the announcer calls, “michael jackson and janet jackson.” you start clapping hard when you hear janet’s name get mentioned.
yes you’re that petty.
michael gets up and starts walking to the stage, but stops and waits for janet who was sitting in the front row on the other side.
both of them walk onto the stage together and embrace in a hug. you see janet whisper something into michael’s ear which causes him to give her a terrified look.
they both take turns, saying their thanks to friends, family, producers etc, before they walk off stage holding their awards.
you can’t help but notice that michael is more rigid when he sits back down, instead of his laid back version that you saw before he got up to collect his award.
you still refuse to look at him, keeping your body pushed to the other side of your seat.
at this point, you have no interest in speaking to him at all tonight. at first you wanted to at least do the dramatic ring toss to the chest and then walk out on him but you feel like the only thing you’ll be able to do is cry and beg him to fuck you from the back.
maybe it’s possible to mail him the ring. yeah that sounds like a good idea.
you sigh, when there’s another commercial break and you decide to get up to go to the bathroom. this award show has been going on for hours.
you’re tired, heartbroken, horny and all you want to do is go home.
once you’ve finished in the bathroom, you fix your dress and start to make your walk back to the main room so you can sit back in your seat before the break is done, but you get interrupted by a hand on your arm.
you look up seeing michael, with his eyes still covered by his sunglasses.
“what are you doing?” you blurt out, when he starts to drag you down a long hallway.
“michael let go.” you hiss. trying to pull your arm out of his grip.
he ignores you, the same way he’s been doing for the last six weeks and just keeps on walking.
“michael joseph jackson, let me go before i scream.” you say, still trying to break his grip. but his hand is wrapped around your wrist so tight, that you won’t be surprised if there isn’t already a bruise forming.
you’re still trying to get him to let go of you when michael shoves open a door, that you’re assuming is his dressing room.
“what are you doing?” you yell. “are you— mmphh” your words are swallowed when michael crashes his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door.
at first you start to enjoy the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours, tasting just a hint of orange juice but then you remember how he had you leave neverland over a month ago, and didn’t speak to you since.
you push against his chest, panting.
“what. is. your. problem?” you shout, smacking him in the chest.
“you are actually more insane than i thought.” you scoff. “how dare you ignore me for six fucking weeks straight, and then have the audacity to drag me here just to kiss me? have you lost your damn mind?” you can’t stop shouting. after all these weeks of you bottling up your emotions, you can’t help but get it out.
“and,” you let out a dry laugh, “and it was all because i disagreed with you on one thing. not even disagreed, i just asked if we could wait a little more longer and you embarrassed me. you embarrassed me in front of your staff. you embarrassed me in front of quincy and bill when i asked them about you and you told them that you were too busy. yeah right, too fucking busy to check in on your fiancée!”
you didn’t even realise that the whole time you were shouting in his face, michael has been standing there with his hands behind his back with his head down.
he lifts his head up, removing his dark shades.
“you’re not breaking the engagement.” he says, his voice ten octaves deeper than his normal pitch.
you throw your hands up in frustration. “so after all i said, that’s what you have to say? after six fucking weeks of you not speaking to me, that’s what you decide to say to me?” you laugh, in disbelief. “michael i actually can’t believe you. but yes, yes we are done.” you start to twist your ring off of your finger but michael’s hand quickly reaches out to grab onto your wrist.
he pulls you towards him, so you’re flush against his chest.
you look up at him, your eyes filling with tears.
you blink them away, refusing to cry in front of him again.
“well i don’t want us to be done.” he mumbles, pushing your ring back down onto your finger. “i was mad. i was upset because i just wanted the world to see the amazing woman that i want to spend the rest of my life with. so im sorry for shutting you out, and im sorry that i took it out on you without communicating, but one thing i’m not going to allow you to do is walk away from me.”
you try and snatch yourself out of his grip because that was the most shittiest apology you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“baby.” michael says, pulling you back into his chest. “i said i was sorry.”
“i don’t care. you hurt me. you hurt me in the worst way possible and you think that stupid apology is going to work?” you scoff at his ridiculousness.
“i was angry and i just needed time to think.” he says, his grip loosening which gives you a chance to step back from his hold.
“time?” you say, your eyes narrowing. “one night is considered ‘time’. maybe a couple days, but six weeks michael? i called you every single day and you refused to answer. i cried myself to sleep every night, thinking that you hated me. i even called you on your birthday.” your lip quivers at the thought, and nothing could’ve stopped the tears that now start to fall down your cheek.
you start to openly sob, your heart clenching so tight that you’re convinced death would be a better feeling than what you’re feeling right now.
michael steps forward to embrace you in his arms and you hate yourself for the way you clutch onto his jacket, crying into his chest.
“shhh.” michael whispers into your ear, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your head. “i’m so fucking sorry for leaving it this long.”
“you hurt me so bad.” you cry.
“i know.”
“i hate you.”
“i know.”
“i hate that i still miss you every single day. even when you hurt me.” you hiccup, pulling away from his hold so you’re looking straight into his eyes.
“i missed you too. it’s just, after i got over the fact that maybe you were right to wait a bit before we realised our relationship to the media, i just got told that me and janet got nominated for scream and… and i got so busy with the multiple interviews and the rehearsals for my performance that if i did try and reach out to you it would’ve gave us away.”
you shake your head, your makeup probably a hot mess from your tears. “if you really wanted to fix things with me you would’ve found a way to contact me without the media detecting us.” you sniff.
“i know. and ill make it up to you, i promise baby. it wasn’t meant to happen like this.”
you shrug, stepping back from his embrace again. “i’m still hurt mikey, and just because i love you that doesn’t mean the wounds aren’t still open.”
“i know.” he says softly, stepping forward. “but just give me this one chance to make it up to you. i don’t care if it takes a month, a year or ten years from now. i just don’t want us to be apart for that long again.”
you look up at him, taking in the utter beauty on his face. the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes and his hands clenched tight like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing onto you again.
you bite your lip, hating the fact that you’re about to fold after weeks of telling yourself that you’re going to hand him back the ring and move on with your life but you can’t help the way your heart yearns for michael.
“okay.” you nod.
“okay?” he questions, probably shocked that you didn’t try and argue with him.
“okay.” you shrug. “i forgive you but i sure as hell won’t forget and if you ever,” you take a step forward so you finger is pressed to his chest. “ignore me for that long again then i just may cut off your dick and feed it to you.”
michael’s hand instinctively goes to cover his groin.
“i won’t do that again, i promise.” he says, before letting out a loud sigh. “and also because janet basically threatened me when we were on stage.”
you laugh at his words. “good. you deserved it.”
“i know.” he sighs, dropping his head in defeat.
you grab the collar of his jacket. “now come here.” you say, before you pull his lips to yours.
michael doesn’t waste anytime, pushing you against the door and bunching your dress up around your waist.
“i missed this.” michael says against your lips, lifting your leg up so it’s wrapped around his waist.
“you could’ve had this if you didn’t ghost your fiancée.” he smashes his lips against yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you moan when you feel his hand rub your cunt through your thong.
“im sorry. im so fuckin sorry baby.” he whispers, peppering kisses down your neck as he pushes your thong to the side and slips a finger inside of you.
“shitttt, you’re so fucking tight.” you hold the back of his head, letting out a whine at the thickness of his finger inside of you.
“it’s been so long.” you pant.
“i know. i need to stretch my baby out so ill be able to fit.” he pushes another finger inside of you, curling them so they hit that one sensitive spot.
“ahh— fuck. that feels so good.” you moan, pulling his lips back onto yours. you let out another high pitched moan, when you feel him add a third finger.
he uses his thumb to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.
“im gonna cum.” you grab onto his shoulder, not caring that you’re probably scrunching up the material of his expensive jacket.
“no.” you whine, when he pulls out his fingers and places them into his mouth. he groans at the taste, “fuck baby, you taste so good.”
you pout, undoing his pants just far enough so you can free his cock. “you didn’t let me cum.” you say, when he hitches your leg back around his waist and lines himself up with your entrance.
“baby i need to feel you cum around my cock.” he lets out a deep, guttural groan when he pushes inside of you.
“fuck. ive missed this. ive missed this so much.” he pulls down your dress just far enough so he can suck onto your boob.
you moan, when he starts moving his hips hard against yours.
“you’re so big.” you cry out, wrapping both of your arms around his neck.
“jump.” michael says, letting go of your leg. you jump, wrapping both legs around his waist as both of his hands settle on your ass. he pushes you against the wall, still pounding into you with quick, efficient thrusts.
at this point you’re a blubbering mess as you feel your orgasm build up low in your stomach.
“fuck fuck fuckkkk.” you scream, from the intense pleasure.
“tell me you’re going to cum.” he growls, his hands tightening on your ass so he can manhandle your body to drop you down onto his whole length.
you can’t form words so all you do is nod. you clench, feeling the overwhelming pleasure of your realise.
“shit, im about to cum baby.” michael moans, dropping you down even faster. you hide your face in his neck, as you just let him fuck you like you’re his own personal fuck toy. at this point, you’d love to be.
“godddd— fuckkkk.” you hear michael groan in your ear, pushing you down on his whole length as you feel his cock pulse inside you and the feeling of his seed filling your womb.
you both pant against each other, refusing to break apart.
“that was… the best sex… we’ve ever had.” you pant.
michael places his hand on the door, using it as an anchor to keep him standing.
he sets you down on the ground gently, as you immediately look around his dressing room for some tissues so you can clean yourself up.
you can’t believe you’ve just had sex when there’s literally celebrities right next door.
“i can’t believe we just had sex in public.” you laugh, wiping yourself with tissue and making sure that there’s no bodily fluids on your dress.
“neither can i.” michael scoffs, buttoning up his pants.
just as you two got yourself somewhat presentable, the door bursts open, revealing janet.
“oh my god, there you two are. i was looking for you everywhere.” she says.
you and michael stand there completely frozen. you have never been so grateful in your whole damn life, because if you and michael took any longer, his own sister would’ve walked into you guys having sex.
“are you guys okay? did you sort out everything?” she asks, leaning against the door.
you cover your face in embarrassment. janet has no idea that she is standing in the exact place, her brother just fucked you at.
“we’re fine.” michael says quickly.
“okay.” janet nods. “well just to tell you that the award show is over now and everyone’s starting to go to the after party.” she closes the door but not without giving you a weird glance.
oh she knows.
she definitely fucking knows.
“oh my god.” you say, looking up at michael with wide eyes. “we nearly got caught.”
michael lets out a loud laugh. “it’s okay. we didn’t get caught.”
“yeah but we nearly did.” you sigh, placing a hand on your beating heart.
“anyways,” you start. “i need to go to my hotel room and change so we can head to the after party.” you start to walk out, even though your legs are a bit shaky from the brutal fucking you just endured but you freeze when you realise michael is not behind you.
“what?” you ask.
“you want to go to the after party? together?”
you give him a smile, “yeah.” you nod. “i think it’s time to let all these women know that you’re a taken man.”
michael bites his lip, looking you up and down like he wants to fuck you again.
“i’m never letting you out of my sight again.” he says, grabbing you by the waist, and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“you better not.” you laugh. “because i won’t be so forgiving next time.”
and with that you both leave the dressing room hand in hand, preparing for your future of being in the spotlight as michael jackson’s soon to be wife.
extra AN: guys im sorry if the smut is shit or if i forgot to tag anyone. this is the longest fic ive ever done and mama is tired.
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