♡ Movie Night
Michael Jackson x Popstar!Reader
Summary: When Michael’s new biopic comes out, you hold a family movie night when viewing it for the first time. Your children and grandchildren get to watch their cousin perfectly emulate their father/grandfather and his climb to superstardom, while you and Michael get to take a little walk down memory lane.
Contains: Fluff, Reader and Michael being reminded of their youth (retired pop legends), suggestive but not overly so, just sex/sexual acts being alluded to once or twice lol, takes place in the same universe as my series but can be read as a standalone oneshot as well.
Word Count: 3.5k
Song(s) of Choice: None (but multiple mentioned in passing)
Masterlist
These days it wasn’t very often that your whole family was together at the ranch like this, typically you only gathered this way for Christmas, Easter, or the occasional summer during which your grandchildren were out of school. In short? You gathered at Neverland Ranch for family affairs, special occasions, and this one served to be the most special of all. Your husband—the famed King of Pop—had a cinematic film made about his life and career, and it was set to premiere at the Uber Eats Music Hall in Berlin. Michael and you had already opted to not attend the premiere itself in a humble consideration of not taking the spotlight off of his nephew on his big day, as such he was kindly sent a copy of the completed film by the producers. Now, you and your big family were seated in Neverland’s theatre room ready to watch it on premiere day.
You and Michael, naturally, were seated beside each other while the rest of your family were spread around you; but still close by.
“Does everybody have what they need?” he asked, looking around at everyone. “Because I’m telling y’all now, nobody’s getting up once this movie starts playing.”
Choruses of varying volume sounded out all around you both as affirmation was given in response to Michael’s question. Everyone had their snacks, their blankets, and toilets around the home had been used before entering the room. You securely held a big bucket of popcorn between you two while you nuzzled into his side, and he kept his arm around you while his other hand picked up the remote.
With that your husband of over forty years hit play, and you were greeted by the sound of the live version of “Wanna Be Starting Something” playing. Eventually the film started with Michael rearing to go on stage during his 1988 bad tour. From there it went back in time to the winter of 1966 Gary, where you see a child version of Michael dreamily looking out at children playing in the snow from his living room window.
“The little boy playing you is adorable,” you hushly squealed in his ear. “Just looking at him reminds me of you at that age.”
Michael chuckled, “His name is Juliano,” he whispered back, taking some popcorn in his hand and eating it. “I met everyone when filming started.”
“Oh?” you gasped, “I can only imagine what meeting you must’ve felt like.”
He remembered clearly how excited the boy had gotten upon laying eyes on Michael when he first entered the set. Excitement that’d eventually devolved itself into tears of joy as he professed to Michael being his idol. It was a confession that he’d heard for Lord knows how many times by now in his life, far too many to count. But it was always, without fail, the most heartwarming coming from a child who still had their whole life ahead of him. He’d been that child himself once, when watching James Brown in black and white on his family’s colorless television while growing up in Gary.
Being that same inspiration for the children of future generations had been greater than any award, title, or accolade he could’ve ever been given. If asked, it was his greatest achievement. Not just in his career, but in life. It was what made every late night and hardship worth it.
In the film, Michael and his brothers were rehearsing in the living room just as they used to do before their come up. They even accurately portrayed how nervous and avoidant with his eyes Michael would be when Joseph sat on the couch dissecting their routine.
Joseph kept demanding little Michael look at him and he wouldn’t, and naturally one of your younger grandchildren questioned it. “Why won’t you look at him, Grandpa?”
Without hesitating, he answered: “Because my daddy scared me, sweet pea.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” Michael answered before stuffing more popcorn into his mouth.
And they all did during the scene where little Michael asserted they didn’t need to rehearse more, after Joseph ordered them to when returning home late from a show; because they already “did good” and he wanted to go to bed. When he started getting whipped on screen a couple of your kids glanced at their father to see his reaction. While Joseph had mellowed out by the time they’d come around and behaved a lot calmer compared to when he raised his own kids, they’d heard stories from Michael growing up about how heavy handed of a disciplinarian their grandfather had been. It made them feel all the more fortunate that their own father had been so gentle and patient with them as kids.
Michael didn’t move a muscle, he focused on the screen as he watched a child version of himself scream and cry while being struck. Then sighed when he saw him curled up in the bathroom crying after while his mother tried to get him to unlock the door.
“That wasn’t nice!” another of the young ones exclaimed.
“That’s right, that’s why we never did it to you.” their dad, your oldest son, replied while pulling them close.
“Are you ok?” you asked him while the film bled into a montage of the Jackson 5 doing shows and contests all over Gary.
“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing your arm and pulling you closer. After knowing him as long as you have, you could tell he meant it. By now he’d long learned to let go of that pain, it was just a tad hard viewing it from an outside lense in film. Thankfully, it hadn’t depicted the true intensity of what he’d gone through growing up.
After Suzanne de Passe introduced herself as a creative assistant from Motown Records to Joseph backstage, there was a jump to 1968; when the boys had gotten signed and began working on their debut album.
“You know that’s him singing this part?” Michael stated, during the “Who’s Loving You” studio recording scene.
“Really?” your oldest child, your daughter, responded in surprise. “He sounds just like you.”
“I thought that was you, Dad.” your youngest son stated.
“All him,” Michael shook his head, “Talented boy,”
The film soon jumped to 1971, well after they’d made their debut as the Jackson 5 and were doing shows and press all over the country. You grinned wide when you’d seen a familiar group of three girls, you and your sisters’ group, walking backstage on what you could only assume was the same place you’d met Michael in the first place: American Bandstand.
On screen, Michael had frozen in place with a short gasp and tensed up when he’d seen the girl playing younger you. You, your sisters, and manager were walking towards them all and you gave Michael a smile and friendly wave when passing him.
“Hi,”
He quickly turned around and watched your retreating figure with his jaw slightly hanging. Suddenly remembering he could in fact speak he’d exclaimed a “hi” back to you and waved excitedly with a grin when you turned around to look at him again. Giggling, you’d clutched onto the arm of your older sister as you turned back around.
Michael continued to watch you leave until Joseph forced him around and shoved his head hard to make him walk. “Get‘cho ass on that stage, boy!”
“Oh, how cute is that?” you gasped, “I can’t believe they actually included that.”
“You’re just as important to my story as anything else in my career, Tink. Of course they did.” he chuckled. Granted, he didn’t like how it was in the form of such a historically inaccurate throwaway moment. Never mind the fact they got the year wrong. Alas, the film was more about him than your story together so he supposed he could let it be.
“Baby that’s sweet,” you cooed, leaning up to press a firm kiss on his cheek. “I feel like the scene could’ve been more accurate though.”
“You know I was just thinking that?”
.
“It’s Jaafar!” one of your grandchildren exclaimed when he appeared on screen the first time. The year 1978, when Michael had began talks of working on tracks with Quincy for the Off the Wall album. You all marveled out loud at just how much he resembled Michael while in costume and makeup, especially when he began speaking. It mentally sucked you both back in time as you watched him begin to record in the booth, a time that was still…simple. A lot less claustrophobic, before all the pandemonium that succeeded Thriller.
“I can already tell he’s gonna be perfect,” you said, digging your hand in the popcorn bucket.
Michael hadn’t answered you this time. He’d already seen Jaafar practicing his dance moves, his mannerisms, his voice, all before filming even began. He’d even spent a lot of quality time with Michael just listening to stories from his youth, and asking necessary questions about events from the past to help with his portrayal. He’d known Michael personally as his uncle, but knowing him personally as the King of Pop was an entirely new avenue and he wanted to make sure he had it right enough for the film.
So far he wasn’t disappointing, but you hadn’t expected him to to begin with.
After watching the success of Off the Wall play out in a short montage, you and Michael laughed at a scene that played in his room after he’d first gotten Bubbles.
Bubbles stared at a copy of the new record that was laid out on the floor. “That’s me, that’s my new album.” Michael said, then Bubbles dug through one of his record crates and pulled out a copy of a very familiar one.
It was yours, the one you’d release in 1978—Survive—to critical success. You were seated in a chair in a short, black sequined dress with white thigh high boots on. Your legs looked long with one crossed over the other. It made you both laugh because you remembered him really liking that cover.
“Now why’d you dig that out of there?” Michael laughed at his new chimp friend before gently plucking it from his grasp and admiring it. He turned it back around for Bubbles to see.
“You think her legs look foxy too, don’t you?” Bubbles tilted his head innocently, before lightly patting the vinyl album while making little sounds.
Hearing the question made everyone else join in on the laughter before Michael continued on screen. “Well get that outta your head, alright?” he harmlessly scolded while putting the album away.
“She’s your new mother now, so you should think better of her than that.” He opened his arms for Bubbles to jump into his lap, when he did he pulled his favorite children’s book from off his comforter to show him instead.
“I miss Bubbles,” you said to Michael with a sigh. That chimp, truly, had been your little baby until your first actual baby arrived in 1990. Then you had to move Bubbles into a sanctuary once he inevitably got too big to keep at home.
“Me too,” Michael whispered back, kissing your head. “We can go down to Florida to visit him sometime.”
.
Michael had stormed out of the house after just being told by Joseph that he would be releasing a new album with his brothers, and embarking on a tour to promote it. Despite him having just released his own work.
“Let’s go,” he said to Bill once he reached the car.
He could see how upset Michael was, and he knew him well enough to know he’d tell him what was wrong on his own time. So instead he asked a simple question:
“Where do you wanna go?” He asked while opening the door for him.
“You know where…” was all he replied with.
He had in fact known exactly where “where” was, evident as they pulled up near the mailbox of exactly where he needed to go; your home. Michael had thrown the door open and jumped out of the car to jog over to a big tree that was in your yard. He hadn’t even bothered to shut the door, Bill ended up doing it for him as he climbed the tree to reach the first story roofing beneath your bedroom window.
“Why are you breaking into the house?” one of your grandchildren asked curiously, causing some of you to laugh.
“I’m not breaking in,” Michael said between chuckles. “That’s the house your grandmother was living in with your GG Olivia, this was how I used to come and see her.”
You couldn’t even count the amount of times you remembered hearing Michael’s soft knocking at your window, both before and after you’d started dating. During the times he needed a friend, and any time he wanted to spend “personal” time with you without worrying about his family barging in. By then it’d just been you living at home with your mother, and she typically didn’t bother you when you were in your room with the door shut.
It had been his sanctuary for a time, and you enjoyed how the film depicted as much.
“Michael?” the actress playing adult you said when she opened up the window to let him inside. “You normally call first, what are you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you,” he said, his feet thudding against the floor when he dropped down into your room. He briskly paced the floor as you closed your window, and ran a hand down his face.
“About what? What’s wrong?”
“Is your mother here?” he asked abruptly, stopping in his tracks and giving you his full attention.
“She—No…she stepped out almost an hour ago,” you replied, beginning to grow concerned. “Is this about my mother?”
“…No,” Michael sighed, he dragged himself to your bed and sat down. “No, it’s not about her…I just wanted to know if it was just us right now.”
On screen, you slowly moved away from the window to sit next to Michael on your bed. “Did something happen?” you asked, and he confirmed immediately with a nod of his head.
“You know who happened,” he confirmed, and your response was a deep sigh.
You watched him explain to, well, you that Joseph had gone behind his back to green light another Jackson’s album and tour. Despite him having wanted to embark on a solo tour for his own album.
“I had it all planned out,” he sighed, “All of it…but Joseph keeps exploiting me. He keeps doing things to keep me from pulling away from my brothers. It’s not fair.” He turned his head to look at you after he was done venting.
“I figured if anyone was gonna know where I’m coming from…it’s you.” he confessed as you affectionately rubbed his back.
You did know where he was coming from, going off memory. When you’d originally released Survive you naturally couldn’t do a solo tour because you were still an active member of your family group. You’d released a group album around the same time and had to do a tour for that instead, not that you had complained at the time. You really hadn’t felt ready to venture off on your own in that way yet, you’d only been eighteen at the time.
Michael had been different, he’d achieved a level of artistic freedom for himself that he hadn’t felt since he left Motown. He had wanted it to grow, to flourish and develop as he continued to mold his craft in any way that had allowed. But his father had stamped all of it out by pulling him back into the group, akin to a pile of crabs in a bucket. As far as his father had been concerned: anything any of them did, they did as a family. Creativity be damned, personal wants be damned.
That was unfair to someone who had so much more to give than that like Michael did.
“He ruins everything, and he clearly does it on purpose.” he huffed, “I need my freedom.”
“When my sisters decided they needed their own space, they just moved out.” you explained with a shrug. “Maybe you can do that too?”
Michael chuckled, “I’m not ready for that, Tink.” He leaned up off his legs and rested his hands behind him on the bed. “It’s not that easy.”
“Most things in life aren’t, but…we can also overcome all of that for things we want badly enough.” you countered, and Michael just stared at you.
“Girl you were not that deep at that age.” Real Michael said to you.
“Sshhhh, Michael! You’re ruining the scene!” you hissed hushly, to which Michael laughed into his fist. You’d really gotten into it.
“…I do want it badly…I wanna do my own thing, but I also love my family.” Michael sighed, looking down. “So then what do I do?”
“Michael…you have a very special gift and you always have.” you told him, moving closer and resting a hand on his cheek to turn his head towards you.
“Nobody, not your father, not your family, can take that from you. It’s yours to share with the world if and when you’re ready, however you well please.” You, oh so gently, brushed your thumb across his cheek as you gave each other full eye contact. “So what are you gonna do?”
He hadn’t responded, he soaked in the words of affirmation you’d given him and stared into your eyes like you’d hung the stars by hand. Instead of answering with words, he slowly leaned in until his lips met yours in a gentle kiss. You kissed him back immediately and your lips moved together in a steady rhythm, their own dance. It slowly picked up intensity as he lied you down on your bed and climbed on top of you. You clutched onto his flannel covered shoulders for security as you were now steamily making out on your bed, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist
“This is so weird to watch, knowing it’s supposed to be you guys.” your youngest daughter said, resting a hand over her eyes. Some of the others agreed while Michael just shook his head.
“How do you think y’all got here?”
.
On screen, Bill watched the front door to your old Calabases home open and Michael step out with a glow that replaced the dark cloud hung over his head earlier. Before he fully exited the threshold of your house, you grabbed his chin to pull him into a final searing kiss.
He chuckled and tipped the hat on his head low to give you both some semblance of privacy while he waited for Michael to come back to the car.
You both eventually pulled away from each other with an audible lip smack, and began to grin like fools as Michael rocked back and forth on his heels.
You were silent for a few beats, then Michael cleared his throat before speaking. “Um…thank you, I really needed that—t-the talk that is.” he shyly sputtered, rubbing the nape of his neck.
“Just the talk?” you giggled, and he bit his lip.
“Well, everything…” He shrugged. With a final peck to your lips, he had promised to call you later before telling you goodbye and walking down your pathway as you shut the door.
Bill tipped his hat back up and noticed a newfound spring in his step as he approached the car, a toothy grin on his face while he did it. It made him cross his arms with a knowing look.
Michael noticed and slowed to a stop in front of Bill. “What?” he laughed.
“Nothing,” Bill casually shrugged, “It’s just…I remember on the way here you said you’d only be 30 minutes, then you’d be right out.”
There was a hint of Michael’s eyes widening as he stuck his hands in his pockets. He licked his lips before responding. “I guess I lost track of time,” he dismissed.
“Lost track of time,” he repeated before casually checking the watch on his wrist. “So, you don’t have an explanation for how 30 minutes of talking turned into almost an hour and a half?”
Michael’s shoulders stiffly raised up as high as he could get them as he avoided Bill’s gaze. He bit his lip, to stop his smile from growing, before bashful swaying his body from side to side.
Even the smallest of mannerisms she remembered Michael embodying, Jaafar replicated on screen as if it came just as naturally to him.
“Nope,” was what he shyly answered with.
While you and Michael had gotten to know each other physically during your time as boyfriend and girlfriend, you hadn’t had actual intercourse until you wed in ‘84. Considering the, admittedly, small inconsistencies that could be found in the film thus far who knew what they were implying happened in that house.
The two stared at each other for a few seconds, then Bill pulled Michael into a playful headlock while said man shrieked and laughed in amusement. He guided Michael towards the back passenger door and opened it for him before tussling his fro a little.
“Get in the car, Casanova.”
Like clockwork, one of your grandchildren had another question. “But what were you doing in there?”
Michael’s answer was very him, “Probably playing twister, I don’t remember.” All you could do was laugh in response.
──── ♡ Lord knows I wasn’t trying to write this much, I got lost in the sauce of dialogue and nearly couldn’t find a point to stop. I could probably write 10k words worth of this, but I think what I have is enough for what I was setting out to do. I haven’t seen anybody write something with this concept (or maybe I’m just slow and didn’t look hard enough), but maybe this’ll get the ball rolling. 👀 Thanks much for reading! ♥︎
