"I Thought I Found The Cure": Your pent-up feelings for Michael end up betraying you, and what was supposed to be a quick breath of fresh air turns into the most explosive confession of your life.
"How to fix up a heart that I let down": Second chances are dangerous. They ask you to trust the same person who taught you what heartbreak feels like.
"Written in the stars": Trying for a baby sounds simple in theory. Then again, so does winning an argument against your husband.
"One more look and I forget everything": Some people leave scars because they hurt us. Others leave scars because they were the only ones who ever knew how to reach us. And sometimes the hardest thing to accept is that the person who broke your heart was also the person who once made it feel whole.
ℬackstage buzzed with energy— crew members talking into their little headsets as they shuffled by while the Jacksons got their final touch ups. You stood nearby, out of the way as you conversed with LaToya.
“You guys are on in five!”
With overlapped chatter the brothers arise from their seats with fresh curls and powdered faces. They gathered into a little circle to perform their ritual— something they do before every show— uplifting each other with chants and grunts to brings about a high, positive energy. The brothers filed toward the entrance. You gave him an achingly sweet boop on his nose as he passed by, “you’re gonna do great, baby.”
“Wait—“ Michael peeled away from his brothers, stopping in front of you. You titled your head curiously, eyes darting to the sparkly backs of his brothers to his hesitant face.
“A kiss for good luck?” he asked shyly, peering through his lashes with those big doe eyes— like he was guilty for asking such a favor.
Your heart tightened and you couldn’t help but pout— could he get any cuter than this. “Of course, angel,” you coo’ed, cupping his jaw to press a soft peck to his lips. His breath tickled your upper lip as he let out a sigh of satisfaction. The tension he didn’t know he had eased in his shoulders, lips curving into a smile.
He knew damn well he had about three minutes to get on that stage— but kissing you while everyone is waiting on him is such a rush! And makes him even more giddy for the performance.
“Where is Michael!?” Asked of the exasperated backstage crew.
He wasn’t hard to find.
As expected, all wrapped up around you with zero regrets. When you pulled away, his boyish grin stretched for miles as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. You pressed one more peck to his nose— careful of his makeup— and motioned him along.
Jackie and Tito let out a quiet huff of laughter with a shake of their head, while Randy Marlon gagged “Keep up that sappy shit, and I might just throw up on stage.”
Michael flushed and rejoined his brothers, keeping his face out of view. Looking over his shoulder one last time, you waved with your fingers and a mouthed a quick Love you.
He bit his lip as he and his brothers took their places.
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Funny how it takes losing something you never really had to understand how much it meant to you. Maybe that's what falling in love is… realizing the thought of someone choosing anyone else hurts more than admitting the truth to yourself.
ᴀ/ɴ: Soooo I kind of rambled about this in my blog somewhere hahahahaha I just couldn't help but be inspired by Steal My Girl from 1D and The Lady In My Life kind of hahaha. I just love those songs like I need them to be injected into me. Also why did this took me longer than necessary I'll never know why but here it is finally done.
The landline in Michael’s home studio rang about for 5 seconds before he grabbed it and responded, in full honesty he expected Q to call him telling him how he needed to record ‘The Lady In My Life’ and how the other recordings didn’t feel real. How he needed to beg as if he were to convince this lady to stay with him. Michael. What he didn’t expect was to hear your cracking voice trying to keep tears at bay from the other line. “Hi…” the pause you took only deepened his worry as he heard you sniffle. His free hand started to curl into a soft fist. “Mike, could you come and get me? Please I just… I just…” At this point Michael felt his throat starting to constrict, his chest growing heavy each second to every word you uttered. He suspected why you called, especially because he knew you were supposed to be on a date…
Oh Lord… the realization had dawned on Michael as he hurriedly put his loafers on, he grabbed some random jacket that was laying around, running out of the home studio. Michael hurriedly made his way towards the car, to which Bill was near, no words needed between the two of them. Bill saw the look on Michael’s face and that’s all the confirmation he needed as he hurriedly opened the door for him in the back seat and then Bill got in. ”Where to, Joker?” Michael turned his face to look at him as Bill looked at him through the rear view mirror. “You know where, and we need to get there fast.” Bill just nodded to Michael’s words as he knew the boy was tense, it must have been a hell of a phone call for him to behave the way he did. But another small factor that Bill knew and always took into account was how much you matter to the boy.
The street lights and the cars passing by became blurs as Bill sped through L.A in order to get Michael to you as he grew anxious by the minute. One leg bouncing up and down, he tried not to bite his fingernails off as he remembered you telling him it was a bad habit and that it wasn’t good for him, but he was sure you would forgive him this time. Michael kept on looking through the car window, his attention placed fully in finding you.
The moment the car came to a halt Michael pulled the door open and jumped out of the car, his eyes adjusting to the lighting, his head moving in all directions as if he was trying to find you between the crowds of people that surrounded the restaurant. “Mike?” The sound of your voice pulled him out of the trance as he looked at you standing in front of the restaurant in which you were supposed to meet your date. He looked at your tear stricken face, Michael couldn't utter any words out of him, as if there were no words to say. He just took three long strides to get to where you were standing, he was right in front of you. Michael took your face in his hands softly and wiped your tears, the feeling of his hands made you close your eyes for a split second to bask in his warmth. Opening your eyes again as you felt the loss of his warmth you looked at Michael again in that second he wrapped his long arms around your body. No words said. No words needed in that second.
The soft lighting of the streets allowed Michael to see your eyes even in the darkness as he shielded you from the cold by having both of his arms around you. He kept on looking into your eyes. At that moment he knew he didn’t want any other man to be with you. You were his girl, his one and only. If he needed to shout that or sing it so that the world could hear him, he would and there was no one that could stop him. You had become his muse, as if in that moment God had whispered in his ear that you were meant to be his, and he took that too personally.
Michael had made up his mind that night. No man ever was gonna steal you because he is gonna be the one to steal you away.
Despite Michael being deep in thought he guided you to where Bill was waiting in the car, opened up the backseat door for you and offered you his hand. You placed your hand in his for a second and felt how his hand enveloped yours, how his warmth replaced the coldness in your hands, how careful Michael was of his touch as if you were the most delicate thing to exist. So you looked at him for a brief second as you climbed into the car, his hand in yours. The street lights made his curls pop more making it seem like there was a halo on his beautiful head, the way his doe eyes searched your face as though trying to read every emotion you hadn't spoken aloud. Your fingers slipped away from his as you kept on observing him as he let go of your hand to close the door, hearing his footsteps as he made his way around the car.
He climbed into the backseat next to you as you kept staring at him. He gave you a shy smile and fastened your seatbelt before he fastened his. The instant you heard the engine of the car roar and felt it move, your breathing slowed a bit as one of Michael’s hands cradled the back of your head as if you were made out of porcelain. You rested your head against his shoulder,silent tears falling freely against your cheeks. The warmth that Michael provided you felt like home to you and it made your worries and hurt melt off for just a second. As if there was a bubble wrapped around you both. Closing your eyes as sleep took over your body finally feeling secure.
The instant Michael felt your body relax he turned his face slightly making sure not to make any sudden movements or move you in any shape or form he saw you had fallen asleep. He couldn’t help the way his hand moved your hair and tucked away as he kept on looking at your finally relaxed face. He wanted the moment to last forever as the car moved and street lights turned into a blur once again as Bill drove you to your apartment. He still couldn’t help but engrave every little detail of you into his brain.
He just couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even after Bill silently motioned through the rear-view mirror that they had reached your apartment. He couldn't bring himself to wake you. Not yet. Not when you finally looked at peace.
Oh… I’ve fallen…
How was I supposed to beg... before I knew who I was begging for?
This is what Q meant...
God.
Michael realizing he's been in love with you since forever and now has to go and sing 'The Lady In My Life' the way he's supposed to.
Content: basically you doing the "i cant pay rent" trend on Michael
"Michael, I can't pay rent," you said, putting your head down in hopes of not showing the laughter that threatened to rip through your throat. The camera was discreetly set up so that Michael didn't suspect a thing as he sat across from you, his glasses sliding so far down that his eyes could be seen over the frames as he read his book. The confusion on his face became more apparent as he tilted his head, brows furrowed with utter bewilderment.
"Baby, what are you talking about?" He spoke, his book still in his hands. His fingers were still in position to flip the next page.
"Like, I can't pay rent this month," your smile was becoming more apparent by the second.
"Are you okay? You don't pay any month," his book was now shut. The bookmark was placed in the spot for when he eventually came back to it.
"Michael!"
"What? It's true! You know I don't let you pay for anything," his hands were up now, the confused look phasing into a more playful one.
"Wait, is this that tiktack trend?"
The camera shook from your laughter, becoming blurry as it caught another confused look.
Fiancé!Michael who is more stressed about the wedding than you are. He keeps on stressing everyone around him, from his sisters to Bill, including yet again Jermaine.
Fiancé!Michael wants your wedding day to be perfect. Something intimate, something that feels like the two of you, but still beautiful enough to celebrate with the people you love. He spends weeks trying to find that balance.
Fiancé!Michael who insists on getting eloped despite the fact that you have said no, hesitating even more each time. He’s just so excited to be married to you.
The press noticed the ring on your finger and hasn’t shut up about it for weeks. So the moment Fiance!Michael has to answer questions about it in interviews. He gets a bit shy but loves talking about you, he could do so for hours.
Fiancé!Michael who brags about you in interviews, he does it in any type of way he can.
Fiancé!Michael who helps you throughout the organization process of the wedding, he loves being involved in it but also loves spending time with you. It’s a win win for him.
Fiancé!Michael who somehow turns every wedding planning appointment into a date. Cake tasting? Date. Venue visit? Date. Picking flowers? Also somehow a date.
Fiancé!Michael who loves when interviewees call you his “wife”, he doesn’t correct them he just sits there grinning like a madman.
Fiancé!Michael who practices his vows in front of bubbles because he gets too embarrassed practicing them in front of actual people.
Fiancé!Michael who has a little countdown written in his planner. Every morning he crosses off another day with the biggest smile on his face.
Fiancé!Michael becomes a ball of nerves a day before the wedding. He just gets nervous about everything, so you have to calm his nerves down.
Soon to be husband!Michael who completely falls apart the moment he sees you walking down the aisle. It's not just how beautiful you look. It's the fact that it's you. You're actually here, about to become his wife.
Soon to be husband!Michael who says his vows as he tries to contain his tears to no avail, Jermaine just ends up smirking at him and pats his back as he is one of his groomsmen.
Soon to be husband!Michael who smiles so sweetly at you when you say your vows, he just becomes a crying mess. He just can’t contain his tears when he hears you say the most loving and sugary stuff about him, as if he hasn’t said that stuff about you too.
Michael each time you say no to getting eloped in Vegas, he is just wants to be married already.
Like why am I thinking about Meredith's combo with Izzie (i think in season 2 or 1) in which Meredith denies being in love with Derek, like and how about that with the reader and Mature era Michael or Invisible era Michael... Just imagine that...
Maybe Michael is her mentor or tries to introduce the reader to music industry after hearing her songs and watching her perfomances. He just wants to helo her network but falls in love with her or something. Or maybe the reader's manager like tells her about her getting a mentor and it's Michael, and the fact is that they had or have a conection of some kind.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢SUMMARY: Michael only wanted your opinion on a song… he forgot to mention it was written about you. Also based on this request by the lovely @katgojo
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢Michael Jackson x Selena!Reader
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢A/N: Sooooo I'm back... writer's block hit me like a truck honestly specially yesterday, man I miss Michael a lot as if I knew him personally, (just me being parasocial). Anywayssss sorry for how long this has taken me to write again I really hope y'all enjoy it and like it, hopefully this isn't bad and makes you want to throw up. Actually as I was writing this I could feel how sugary this is, this is literally pure fluff. Also if y'all want to be tagged or added to the taglist please let me know and I'll add ya.
The quiet comfortable silence enveloped your body and Michael’s, he guided you through the studio, the lights dimmed enough to leave your body buzzing in anticipation. You could feel the nerves rolling out of Michael’s body as he held your hand in his sweaty one, lightly gripping yours every now and then. He had called you late into the night, 12:37 am to be exact, not that anyone was counting; he wanted you right here with him in the studio.
“Hi, angel face,” the words dripped into your ear as it was pressed to the phone. “Hi Mickey…” you said as you could hear Michael chuckle lightly from the other line. “Come to the studio as fast as you can. I need you here… I need… I need some help with a song…” Michael bit his lip and gripped on the phone lightly the cord getting tangled from him pacing around the studio. “I thought you finished already…” Michael scratched his neck lightly trying to come up with something. “Yeah I thought so too but Q said it needed a little more…” “Oh well I’ll be there in 30. Just let me get dressed.”
You couldn’t help the nervous tick of playing with your hands and twisting with your fingers as you sat on the studio floor waiting for Michael as he pressed some buttons on the sound board. When he finally stood up you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, the build up of anticipation was killing you and unknown to you it was killing Michael as well. Michael wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as he sat next to you on the floor. “Just listen to this…” Michael nodded to himself as if he was trying to reassure himself of what he was doing. Every thought on his head raced as he kept on looking at you and admiring you. He observed the way your hair glowed under the studio dimmed lights, the way your eyes started to shine when the tune of the song started and hit your ears, the way you moved your head lightly to the rhythm. He watched every little feature of you, how brows twitched as he patiently waited to see your reaction to the first line of the song.
Then Michael’s beautiful voice hit your ears, “I don't need no dreams when I'm by your side, ooh-ooh,” you bobbed your head up and down as you attentively listened to lyrics on each line and verse wanting to understand what he was conveying and saying on each of it. The pressure on Michael’s chest kept on increasing as he kept looking at you, nerves growing each second. Trying to keep his thoughts in a straight line which conveyed to be impossible as questions and what if’s raced through his mind like a formula 1 race.
Michael wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh nervously or bang his head against the soundboard as he kept observing your face, your expression neutral giving him absolutely nothing on what you were thinking about and it was killing him. “Can you hear it okay?” He just wanted to break off some of the silence that was silently adding more weight to his chest. “Yeah…” You said with a quick nod turning to look at Michael giving him a soft smile and then turning your face to look straight trying to keep your composure as the heat rushed through your neck. Michael nodded as he kept on looking at you offering a shy smile the heat in his neck had risen up to his cheeks as he thrummed his fingers in his jean clad thigh.
“Girl, I need to hold you,” as you heard the line the thoughts on your mind had turned blank, you had never heard Michael sing something like that despite that both of you almost every time you were in the studio, you both resided together. No thoughts. Just pure shock of hearing Michael liked that, you liked hearing this side of him but it couldn’t help the ache that started to settle in your heart from who the song could be directed at.
On the other hand Michael was sweating already, the nerves in him had become anxiety as he kept on lying next to you thinking what to do or say. Every little second to him had turned into hours of pure thoughts that made him want to shut his brain off for a minute and just be with you.
Then the next line came through the speakers in the studio and God knows how Michael wanted to scream those words to you and the world if he weren’t too shy to say. “You're everything this world could be to me,” Michael couldn’t help but look forward for a moment trying to keep his composure and fail miserably, he was trying to keep everything at bay. In that second you turned your head to look at him, you wanted to read his thoughts and feelings, curiosity was killing you to know what was going on and wanting to know for who it was. You turned your head to look straight and looked at the carpet beneath you. Michael turned to look at you again, seeing you and wanting to reach out.
As the last lines of the song blasted through the speakers you kept on staring at the carpet. “Say you're thinking of me.So baby, be mine, girl.” You wanted to rip out that carpet and wanted earth to swallow you whole so that you could escape from the question your mind aches to ask over and over again. Who is this for?
Michael’s body had a mind of its own as he moved his hand to reach yours, taking it in his with such delicacy as if you were made out of porcelain. He squeezed lightly making you look at him briefly as the song reached its end offering you a soft smile and nerves threatening to spill over him. The tunes of the song died down. You kept on looking at each other every passing second till it ended. “So… whose is it about?”
Michael couldn't help but gape at you, eyes wide like saucers, his hand in yours had stilled for a minute as he tried to gather his words. "...You don't know?” You raised an eyebrow at his question and shook your head lightly. Michael looked down at your intertwined hands and mumbled something out that you couldn’t quite catch. “What? Mickey, I can't hear you.” Michael kept on looking at your hands and mumbled the same thing a little bit louder this time, and you were still unable to listen to what he was saying. “Mickey I…I really can’t hear you when you mumble, please look at me.”
Michael was sure he was gonna die out of embarrassment, he lifted his head lightly, his hand still in yours, giving it a squeeze. “You”
“Me?” You ask, trying to put the pieces together. “Yeah, it's about you and for you.” Michael nodded to himself as he felt the pressure in his chest being lifted from him as he placed his other hand on it feeling the relief course through his body. “That one isn’t the only one…” You blinked surprised at his confession. “P.Y.T…” you stare at him trying to recollect your mind as it had shattered into a mess. "...The Lady in My Life..." You blink again at his confession, swallowing hard. The heat in his cheeks and neck got hotter by the second as if that was possible. "...Most of them are about you."
“Oh…” you let out and in that second Michael was panicking. “...Most of my songs are about you too.” The confession left your mouth before you could stop it and Michael sat there looking at you dumbfounded before bursting into a laugh. Making you look at him as he had gone crazy for a second before you followed.
After a few minutes the laughter between you had died down softly and Michael was staring into your eyes noticing the hues that shined through them, the way your noise scrunched every time he kept on staring for far too long. You stared back into his dark brown eyes, those beautiful eyes that had inspired thousands of songs and more to come. The silent question lingered in the air and a soft nod of your head gave Michael the answer he needed as he leaned in. The contact of his lips felt euphoric, sending electricity to your body. It was intoxicating the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hand cupped your cheek and the other one remained on top of your thigh. Michael felt lighter each passing minute as your soft lips grazed his, your hand remained on his chest and the other one played with his dark curls on the back of his neck. You were intoxicating to him, the only drug that he wanted to take for life.
◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ Michael Jackson never laughed when you didn’t understand something.
That’s what made it worse.
most people would sigh, or take over, or explain it in a way that would make you feel like you were twelve years old. But Michael was different, he stayed patient with you.
You sat beside him at the kitchen table, staring at the instructions with growing frustration, your tongue poking out slightly in an attempt to concentrate. He watched you quietly, careful to not disturb you.
He scooted his chair closer.
“Look.” His voice was gentle. His palm slid over the back of your hand, carefully guiding your fingers toward the correct spot. Just enough to point in the right direction for you to figure it out.
You were trying your best to focus. Unfortunately, Michael was very close. Close enough that his cologne overlapped your senses. Close enough that you could feel his curls brushing against you.
“There,” he said softly, eyes flicking up toward yours. “See? You almost had it.”
Heat crept up your cheeks. You mumbled something incoherent, suddenly becoming shy.
Michael leaned closer. “Hm?”
Your breath caught, because now he was really close. Looking at you with those ridiculously soft, wide eyes. Waiting to hear what you’d said.
I’m sad to see you gone, you don’t know how much everyone misses you here. Sometimes we all wish you were here with us. A lot of us selfishly want you back here…
I just wish you only had more time…
More time to see how much we love you.How much we appreciate you. How much we appreciate your art. How much we appreciate your spirit. How much we appreciate how beautiful you are. How much we appreciate everything that is you.
We wish you could have seen how your music continues to bring people together, how your words still comfort hearts, and how your legacy continues to inspire new generations every day.
We miss you and love you dearly Michael, you hold a place in our hearts. You live on through your music, your kindness, and your heart.
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Some people leave scars because they hurt us. Others leave scars because they were the only ones who ever knew how to reach us. And sometimes the hardest thing to accept is that the person who broke your heart was also the person who once made it feel whole.
ᴀ/ɴ: Hiiii soooo I've had this on my mind for a reallyyyyy long time honestly, I just needed to get it out of my system honestly. I just kept on listening to Mamma Mia by ABBA, and let me tell you I love that song and I hadn't realized how sad the song was until I heard someone cover it on tiktok as they played the piano. Man that destroyed me. So hopefully this won't destroy you all as much as it did to me.
The bright stadium lights hit your eyes as you can hear the excited chants of the crowds as you near the piano on the center of the stage. As the crowd held their breath the moment you sat down on the piano stool. Michael observed you from the tent in which he was watching the show, holding his breath far longer than needed. The anticipation to the song you were gonna sing was thrumming through his veins, the feeling leaving a coldness in him he had never experienced every time he heard you sing. He knew. He knew what you were gonna sing. He knew what you felt when you wrote the song. He knew what feelings resurfaced every time you sang it.
“I've been cheated by you since I don't know when” you sang softly to the mic hearing the crowd erupt into screams the moment they heard you sing. The first notes of the song resonated throughout the stadium as your fingers pushed the piano’s keys. Your eyes glued to the piano not wanting to look into the crowd because you knew he was there somewhere. “So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” the words dripped out of your mouth like sweet honey, closing your eyes for a brief moment trying to regulate yourself and not cry in front of the crowd.
“Look at me now, will I ever learn?” You opened your eyes, looking at the piano’s keys asking yourself the same question over and over again. The reminder of her and him in your mind is what made you question every little thing. When will you truly learn?
The desperation hit Michael hard in the chest, he knew that you knew he was here. He wanted you to look at him, to face him. At the same time he didn’t want it anymore, he didn’t want to keep on hurting you more than he already has. Each time every verse of the song left your lips the agony kept on growing, the internal conflict in his mind was even greater than before. Despite it all, he couldn't look away. His eyes followed every movement of your hands across the piano keys, every breath you took between verses, every slight tremble in your voice. The need to see your face became unbearable.He wanted to know what you were hiding from everyone in the crowd, including him. The anger. The hurt.. He wanted to know if there was anything left of the woman who once looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Yet you never looked up. Not once.
As your finger touched the next key you finally looked up to the crowd. “Mamma mia, here I go again.” In that millisecond Michael saw the smile filled with pain in your face, your eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. You saw him looking at you, even from a distance you could recognize the look in his eyes. The eyes don’t lie. His never did at least to you.
You turn your face towards the piano once again still smiling a tear falls softly from your eye leaving a wet trail against your cheek. “My, my, how can I resist you?”
Michael’s breath caught up in his throat and he still kept on looking at you. The crowd surrounding him and you became silent to him as if they had disappeared. The cameras disappeared. The stage, gone. All that remained was you in that forsaken piano with him miles away from you. Smiling through tears, not even bearing to look at him from a distance. Suddenly the song didn't sound playful or upbeat anymore. More than a confession. It was a story.
“I've been angry and sad about things that you do,” the line dripped into Michael’s ears, making breathing seem impossible, he knows what he has done and he is doing. You were aware of everything. It hurt him more than it hurt you.
Every tear you shed becomes two new wounds. One for you. One for Michael. All of it was his doing. “One more look” You look up again, looking at him directly and to Michael it felt as if you had reached within his soul and being. “And I forget everything, whoa,” he felt as if he could forget what he had done and bask in the moment with you despite the pain inflicted by his own hand, but what he couldn’t erase was the pain he caused you. He tightened his hands into fists and bit the inside of his cheek trying not to let out any emotion, despite the fact that Michael knew that you could read every little thing of him even from a distance.
You saw every little thing of him, and the more you saw the more it tore you apart, it was torture having him so close but oh so far. Even with the crowd chanting and singing along it felt as if you had been left alone with him. And you so desperately wanted it to be like that. “Yes, I've been brokenhearted,” you kept on singing, hitting the piano’s keys harder as you proceeded with the song, your own emotions kept on betraying you. Michael saw it from afar as his chest kept on constricting against his beating heart. “Blue since the day we parted,” the line leaves your lips as a few tears fall down your cheeks, hitting each key in the piano with more force than necessary. With each passing line of the verse the more force you added, your team watching from backstage swallowing hard as they’ve seen you in every stage of grief trying to go through it alone.
Michael saw every little movement of yours. He saw your frustration. He saw the pain. He saw the heartbreak. He saw it all. He closed his eyes for a brief second not waiting to miss a thing, taking a shaky deep breath in and out. All of it in an attempt to regulate his emotions, from not breaking down and shattering before hitting the backstage and trying to talk to you.
It was selfish. More than selfish, truly. Michael wanted, no needed to talk to you for at least a second. When will he truly learn?
“Why, why did I ever let you go?” Michael kept looking at you as you kept on spilling every little feeling and pain into the song and it was hitting him harder than ever. It was shattering every little wall and façade he had built up that no one could get past, not even his wife. The feeling was consuming every little part of him, every question that his brain had been repeating each day for months were now screaming at him.
“Mamma mia, now I really know,” you felt trapped by the lyrics as you kept on singing the final parts of the song, wanting the torture to be finally over. It was destroying you internally. Every little thing you had healed was gone. Every little stitch in your heart, ripped out. You were the one breaking every little thing you had built, it was a glorious feeling that would leave you stranded when the next came.
“My, my, I could never let you go” you sang the last line with a shaky voice, your breath leaving you as you stood up from the piano. The crowd returned to you with the loud chanting and applause, it made you feel high for a moment. Looking over at the tent in which Michael was in, you saw Bill escorting him out. Making you swallow hard as you kept on saying your thank you’s and goodbye’s to your fans.
The second you had ended the last line Michael felt the tears he had fought so hard to keep in fall as he motioned Bill to take him backstage. The dam had broken. Every little thing he had kept and piled up had broken out and started to flood every little thing in him, mind to body and body to soul. It felt like relief but God did it burn.
Your crew was scared that you were gonna break the mic as you held it in a steel grip, but they were more scared for the fact that Michael was backstage and you were walking over there to meet him.
The force in your walk as you swayed your hips, shoulders straight, steps steady and the soft delicate movement of your arms felt like an armour that hid every little thing that had come undone on that stage. You swallowed hard because despite that the armor that you had built in a few seconds would come undone the second you were in front of him. Michael saw the way you moved, he watched every little movement of yours, he saw the shield you had put on.
As you stopped right in front of him, you observed him, head to toe. You saw how he was unshielded, guard down, nothing to cover him. He was vulnerable unlike you. You swallowed hard as you kept eyeing him. “How’s the wife?” You didn't regret the words that left you, you were unapologetic of every little thing you were gonna say or had said, it was his fault afterall. Michael couldn't help the tiny flinch that left him when he heard your cold words directed at him. "Don't do that." He whispered, taking a tentative step forward, not wanting to move further as if you were a scared animal.
"Do what, huh?" You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips when you said it. Michael frowned at your scoff, not because he was offended but because it hurt him. He flexed his hand for a second wanting to move his arm and reach out but deciding not to do so. "Talk like that." You shook your head at the audacity this man had to utter of his mouth as you kept looking at him, you knew he was being vulnerable at the fullest but you didn’t want to let your guard down. Not again. "Like what?" You asked, wanting to keep playing whatever this was.
"Like I don't care." The disbelief showed instantly in your face as you let out a bitter laugh. Unbelievable.
The sound so bitter it almost made Michael cringe from it, never have heard a sound like that come out of you. Your expression turned sour and Michael saw your armour cracking every second of him standing right there in front of you. "You married another woman, Michael." The words hitting Michael like venom he looked down at the ground for a second trying not to cry in front of your very much present crew. He looked at you again. "I know."
“No, Michael. I don’t think you do.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest as if they were to create a barrier between the both of you, almost as if your arms were protecting you from a harsh truth. A harsh truth that sooner or later would destroy everything in its path.
"Did she make you happy?" The question leaving your mouth before you could stop it, it was blunt, no preparation for it. Michael stood there a few seconds that felt like ages, he was watching his next words, it felt like his life depended on them. "I thought she would." Michael whispered loud enough for you to hear, as shame hit him from every angle. His hands had become fists trying to stop them from completely reaching out as you nod looking at everything and everyone around you except him.
In that instant Michael looked at you, really looked at you. For the first time since you had stepped backstage, the anger was gone, the armour protecting you decaying slowly. Between the cracks he could see you, the one he had hurt and broken out of selfishness.
"I thought she would," Michael repeated softly, words barely a whisper, taking another tentative step towards you. Hands flexing again as his arms start to ache from the need to reach you. "But I kept looking for you anyway."
You look away from him, the sight of him has become poisonous. You wanted to run from the truth that you so deeply knew in your heart. You saw it in his eyes, in the way he would talk to the press, and the way he looked at her. "Do you hear yourself, Michael?" You scoff biting your tongue not wanting to continue spitting out venom. As you turned to look at Michael again you noticed the way he had frozen in his spot. "You kept looking for me?" You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Michael, you married her. You don't get points for missing me while you were with somebody else."
Michael looked at the floor again, he wanted to back down a second, because he was hearing the truth of what he had done. All of it laced up in venomous words, hitting the right spot that would leave him hurting for weeks. As Michael briefly looked up to look at you again he saw the shield was gone, the broken pieces and bits of you were dangling by threads so thin that he thought would break any moment now. "Then why?" The question hung in the air breaking every bit of silence between the two of you.
Michael’s breath caught up in his throat, his chest hurting more every passing second, fists tightening beside him and the ache in his arms grew. "Why her?" You hated how small you sounded when the question left you, it felt like a reminder of when he left you. When Michael didn’t answer you let out a breakthrough your nose that you didn’t know were holding. "Why wasn't I enough?"
“You were. It was me who wasn’t.” Michael whispered out the words looking at you dead in the eye, facing the reality that had haunted him. Your eyes widened a fraction, your hands turned clammy and a frown appeared on your face. Michael noticed it all. You shook your head taking a step back from him, unspoilt tears forming in your eyes. “You knew me.” Michael said all of a sudden in a desperate attempt to keep you beside him longer. “What?” You mumbled out as you turned your head sharply to look at him.
"You saw everything of me." His voice cracked slightly, he took another step forward. The distance between you both didn't feel like miles anymore; it felt like centimeters away. "The good parts. The ugly parts. The parts I spent my whole life trying to hide from everyone." Michael’s dark brown eyes found yours again, he kept holding on, not letting go. “I was afraid. Afraid that you leave, that-that I you wouldn’t be here with me no more.” The frown in your face long gone as you heard him. "So you married somebody else?" Michael nodded, shame taking over him as he admitted to it. "I thought if I started over, if I built something different..." He shook his head in disbelief before looking at you again. “So that maybe I wouldn't keep ruining the only thing that ever felt real." You looked away again, staring at your feet.
“You know you don’t get to come back just because you realized what you left behind.” You shook your head slightly and the grip in your microphone had become even stronger than before, as if that was possible. You looked up, you saw him dead in the eye. “The worst of it all is that I believe you.”
Your crew and Bill trying to disappear as they look at Michael and you interact after the concert. They do not want to be part of that combo.
during a solo trip to france, you unexpectedly meet michael jackson in a small record shop. you try not to think too much of it, but when you run into him again later in the hotel lounge, the pull between you is impossible to ignore.
request by my dear @michaeljacksonfanfictions
the blazing sun in france burns your skin while you try to look for the cafeteria you read about in that old book about the best places to go in france. you're not used to the feeling of freedom—the liberty and autonomy to go back and forth. you're living your vacation in the best way possible; you wish you could live this way every day.
unfortunately, that's not how real life works.
you move calmly through the streets, admiring how people can still be the same even across the world. kids running, teenagers laughing and screaming, the search for life—the feeling that you’re not alone. the world is too small, even if it seems too big.
but you miserably fail to find the cafeteria. however, you're not in the mood to go back to the hotel.
instead, you decide to go to the record store you saw yesterday. maybe you'll be able to find some good records.
the place is full of vinyl records and cds; it seems like a paradise to every record collector. it even has those vintage record players—a brown one with a silver needle grabs your attention. too expensive.
you walk through every department: rock, folk, r&b, soul, best of the 70s. but a noise, a loud sound of girls screaming, takes you out of your bubble. well, there must be a famous person nearby. you couldn't care less. and it looks like they can't get in, so you just proceed to look at the best of the 70s.
marvin gaye, donna summer, stevie wonder, barry white, donny hathaway, the jackson 5, the jacksons;
“you know, it's hard seeing young people being interested in this old music.”
a man's voice interrupts you. you don't look up to recognize who is talking to you; you're a young woman traveling alone—to say the least, being careful is what you have to be. although you still have good manners, you answer with your eyes fixed on the records placed in front of you.
“that's true. but if music is really good, it can travel through generations.”
“i hope mine is one of those.”
oh. you weren't expecting this.
you don't give it a second thought before finally looking at the person who is talking to you.
you're not prepared to see him: michael jackson right in front of you. you don't know how to react in this situation. not at first—something about the way his eyes are looking at you. you think he could hypnotize you with his doe eyes if he wanted to.
you stare too hard, but him? he does the same, and it makes a shiver go down your spine.
you're not capable of even breathing right.
“oh my god—i’m really sorry. i'm truly embarrassed.”
“you don't need to be sorry, baby.” he gives you a smile while he looks at you from head to toe.
you are burning.
“well, it's better if i leave you alone. it was genuinely a pleasure to meet you.”
you step outside of the record store without looking at him again. the crowd screams, and you feel suffocated with so many people around you. you ask yourself how he handles those people all the time. but he must be used to it; he's michael jackson, for god's sake.
you're still intoxicated with what just happened.
you saw michael jackson, and besides that, he was a true gentleman and smelled really nice, like flowers and peaches.
you left a distinct impression on him.
michael jackson is not a man who is easily impressed by people, but by you, he was.
in the first place, you weren't paying any attention to him—it was like he couldn't draw your eyes to him. instead, he was the one who couldn't stop looking at you; you have a breathtaking beauty that got him bewitched.
the way your skin seemed so smooth, or how the dress you're wearing hugged your curves perfectly. he felt an inexplicable attraction to you—this strange woman he had never seen in all his life.
you walked into the place without even realizing he was there. maybe that was what got him so impressed by you—how free you looked there. he wanted to talk to you, to listen to your voice.
and he did.
your exquisite voice was a true blessing to his ears, and you didn't even turn to see him. you didn't care that he was michael jackson, and this fact didn't hurt his self-esteem—it just made him more interested in knowing you and in finding out everything he could about you.
he kept repeating what you said to him: “if a song is really good, it can travel through generations.” that's what he believed; he wanted to create and inspire, and he often searched for more and more inspiration.
but that day, he didn't need to find new inspiration. because you found him without even realizing he was searching for something.
you went away without waiting for his answer.
he could have held your arms, pressed himself against you, and breathed in your sweet-smelling scent.
but he didn't.
because you would find him again.
you are tired.
the bad part about traveling is that you have so much to do, so many places to see, that you can't rest. although you really want to explore everything, you still are just a single person.
then, you allowed yourself to take one day off from your own vacation to rest. today you’re exploring the hotel you're staying at. you checked out the large garden, you took a look at the eccentric swimming pool, and by nightfall, you were taking yourself to the liquor lounge.
who are you trying to fool? you wanted to see him, but what are the odds of you seeing michael jackson again? silly girl. he's just the most famous man alive, and you just met him once and talked to him for less than 10 minutes.
but there was something there on that day. and the possibility of never seeing him again makes your chest hurt.
you needed to get him out of your system.
the hotel's bar was kind of empty. you don't know if something was happening there, but four big guys who looked like walls were sitting at a table in the corner.
the background sound was filled with jazz music; you needed to relax, you needed to forget about that day. you needed to think about it as only a good memory of your vacation.
the day you met michael jackson.
you're drinking a very sweet piña colada, the way you like it, when you see him. you don't know if all the drinking has you imagining people or a specific person, but you don't care. even if it's just a drunk dream, you walk over there, following your instincts.
“i didn't think i would see you again.”
“well, i knew you would find me.”
that's what michael said to you. but he was as surprised as you were; he looked into your pretty eyes and he saw that shining glaze that he knew would be his downfall.
“what do you mean?”
“when i saw you that day, i realized you're different.”
“i think you say this to everyone.”
“believe me, i don't. have you ever felt like some people are meant to be in your life? i watched you for more than half an hour before working up the courage to talk to you, and when i did, i felt fulfilled.”
he wasn't lying. he had thought about you every second since that day; he dreamed about you. he thought about the girl who looked at him as if she could see through his soul.
it was magnetic, all of it. he felt like he was being pulled by your magnetism; he wanted to know more about you. and he knew it—that he would see you again. the girl that he met in france, in the record shop.
“that's intense—”
“i’m sorry, i didn't want to be the creepy old—”
“no, i mean it's intense in a pretty way. because i felt the same, and i thought i was going crazy. it's not everyday that you meet michael jackson.”
you laughed. your hands were sweating, and you leaned closer to him. that night, michael noticed every expression on your face: the way you bit your lower lip when you were embarrassed, how a wrinkle would appear on your forehead when you asked him a question, and how you would look at him.
he always believed that the eyes are the window to the soul, and with you, he felt certain that he was right. you weren't trying to understand the misinterpreted version of him or to find out the deep secrets of his life; you were just being thoughtful with him.
you were being nice without asking for anything in return.
and in a world where people would often take advantage of him—always asking for something from him—you were real and honest, in the most beautiful way a person can be.
“i was pretty impressed when i saw you looking through the old records. it's not everyday that a pretty girl like you shows some interest in donny hathaway.”
“now, i think you're flattering me. you don't need to do that!”
“yes, i do need to do that.”
“why?”
there it is.
“so you will like me more.”
he was close to you, his mouth was slightly open, and you caught yourself stealing a glance at his soft lips.
what if?
your hand was placed on the table when he put his hand on yours. it was warm and smooth. his touch was soft.
a dead silence took over you and him, but you gave up. you pressed yourself against him, finally tasting his mouth. it had a minty flavor. it was good, so good. you could die kissing him. he deepened the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue. the wet sounds were loud enough for anyone nearby to hear; it was avid, urgent. your heart was racing, everything was making you feel dizzy. maybe his lips were a drug; you wanted to get high on him.
your air ran out. he smiled against your lips, and you said:
Why have I been thinking about "Mamma mia" by ABBA with like Michael??? Stick with me I have a vision here, like I can involve Lisa Marie here and make it messyyyyyy...
The silence was tantalizing as the presenter opened the envelope in which you already knew whose name it said, all it was left was the presenter to say it. Then the sensation of Michael’s hand on yours kept him grounded as he gave you three squeezes, he looked at the presenter, the camera focusing on him as he bit his lip.
“The winner is… Michael Jackson!” Michael turned to look at you, his eyes going a bit wide behind his aviators, you squealed the second you heard his name. Still in a bit of a shock you gave him a kiss on his jaw and that’s what it took him to stand up and head to the stage. You stood up looking at him lovingly and a proud smile adorned your face, as you clapped as hard as you could making your hands hurt a bit from it.
Michael approached the presenter as he gave him his award patting him on the back. The second Michael could approach the microphone to say his speech he smiled eyes finding you in the crowd. “Thank you,” he couldn’t help the smile that overcame his face when he heard the crowd scream, his eyes still on you, he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.
“I would like to thank my family, my sisters, and my brothers, including Jermaine.” The laugh that escaped you was covered by your hand as you watched him blow a kiss over to Jermaine as he pointed at him. “I would also like to thank my beautiful fiancee, who has been there from the start.” The lovesick smile started to appear on Michael as he kept on looking at you, he knew what you had asked him as he kept observing your eager nods to him. “Umm… I made a deal with myself that if I win one more award. Which is this award, which is seven. Which is a record. I would take off my glasses” You heard the crowd erupt around you as the words left Michael’s mouth, you kept looking at him with a cheeky smile painted across you.
He bit his lip, looked away for a second, revealing the lipstick mark that you had left on his jaw, and looked back and continued. “I don’t want to take them off, really. My fiance said I should, so I’m doing this just for her really… and the… and the girl in the back.” He took his aviators off, the crowd erupted again. You shook your head at the antics of your soon to be husband.
The girl in the back… you knew what he meant by that it only made a smirk grow in your face as he returned to you. The moment Michael was back in his seat next to you he placed his hand on your thigh as you leaned in, your mouth centimeters away from his ear. Your breath makes him shudder for a second. “I didn’t know I was the girl in the back,” you words making him giggle he turned his head slightly, his eyes connecting with yours. “The one and only. Thank you, sweetheart... for being there before any of this meant anything.”
Michael when he hears you refer yourself as the girl in the back. That man was so pleased with himself.
featuring: michael jackson & nugget (niece!reader)
synopsis: nugget gets her hands on a michael doll and has to show her uncle. michael is amused by the doll.
warnings: reader being a menace, michael mentioning he's 67.
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this. it had me cracking up the whole time i was writing it 😭
Since the movie dropped, your TikTok algorithm has been serving 95% Michael Jackson and 5% pity content from your other interests.
You didn't mind. After all, you'd always been your uncle's biggest fan, and most of the stuff showing up on your feed was more entertaining than you'd care to admit.
That is how you ended up with a Michael Jackson doll.
Doom-scrolling on a Thursday night, you stumbled across a TikTok about the doll. The best part? The creator had tagged the product, so of course you had to get it. Two days later it arrived at your doorstep.
You had to introduce the doll Michael Jackson to the real Michael Jackson, so you made your way to his house.
"I did a thing." Was the first thing you said when he opened the door.
"Oh no." He sighed, fingers finding the bridge of his nose. "Am I going to get in trouble with your dad?" You rolled your eyes. "My dad tries to act all tough, but he cried the other day when I told him I loved him."
"Nugget, you never tell anyone you love them."
"Fair."
You walked over to the couch and pointed at it, gesturing for him to sit. He sat down and turned his attention to you.
"Nugget, what do you have there?" He noticed the small box you were holding behind your back. "Okay okay, so I was scrolling through TikTok the other day and this one video came up with this really cool product, so I bought it." You smiled.
"Okay?" He looked confused. "So what is it?"
You opened the box and pulled out the doll.
He looked at it, then he blinked.
"WHAT IS THAT?" He let out a loud laugh, grabbing the doll. "That, is a Michael Jackson doll." You smiled.
He had tears in his eyes by now.
"Just when I think you can't surprise me anymore, you go and prove me wrong." He said, fanning himself.
"So... do you like it?"
"Are you kidding? I love it!" He giggled. "Can you get more of these?" He asked, looking at the doll. "Actually, there is one for every era." You wiggled your brows.
"Get them. Get all of them, that way we can do an opening on my TikTok account."
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Trying for a baby sounds simple in theory. Then again, so does winning an argument against your husband.
ᴀ/ɴ: I had so much writing this honestly, I was cackling half the time. So for once I was listening to Legendary Lovers by Katy Perry , God how I love that song and seeing the edits people make to the song, specially the Grey's anatomy ones, those always break my heart hehehe. Also, I absolutely love History by 1D, I'm a big fan if you haven't noticed hahahaha. I would also like to thank the lovely @sunshineyrosie for requesting this!!!
The night had settled in and the sky was painted in a dark black that made the stars shine even brighter, you took one look at the sky before closing the curtains of your shared bedroom with Michael. You made your way into the bathroom so that you could start on your skincare and get ready for the night, as Michael was just waiting for you in bed. After finishing and smiling softly at the mirror, you turned off the light and made your way towards your bedroom. As you made your way towards the bed, Michael admired you as you climbed in bed. “Come to the tour with me.” He didn’t even ask, he just demanded as if you would say yes in a heartbeat.
“Honey you can’t be serious right now?” You looked at Michael dumbfounded by his suggestion of him taking you on tour while both of you were trying for a baby. “Why not? I mean it’s the perfect chance to.. you know” Michael says in the most casual way ever as if the implication didn’t carry anything else. “And I don’t have to spend time away from you.” In full honesty you gave him that, both of you hated spending time away from one another, the endless phone calls and the thousands of letters told that story. On the other hand you didn’t want people up in your business with your husband, like the time that interviewer asked you if you had sex with Michael, you were just horrified by the question itself.
“Mickey, I mean it.” You said trying to put a stern face as you look at him with his stupid grim that made you fall over him everytime. “I do too, I’m completely serious.” Michael smiled looking at you, he just wants you with him all the time and the baby making was plus for him. “Michael.” You lifted your eyebrows at him. “What?” He giggled at your dismay. "We're trying for a baby." He looks at you as if you had said the most obvious thing on earth. “Exactly, baby.” He just nodded at you as you rubbed your face with your right hand for a second tired with his antics.“Exactly?” Michael nodded at you again, smiling getting a bit wider each second. “I don’t see the problem you know.”
All you could do at that moment was look at him with your mouth slightly parted, no words coming out as you tried to make a sentence to counter all of it. “We could get a bigger room.” You frowned softly pinching the bridge of your nose for a second. “Michael,” he just kept on going. “A suite.” You closed your eyes letting out a sigh through your nose. “Michael.”
“Several suites.” You open your eyes looking at him, brows furrowed trying to think how that would work. “That’s not the point and you know it.” You said softly as you looked at him while you pointed your finger at him. “Private entrances.” The frown in your face deepened because it seemed like your words had fallen to deaf ears. “Michael.” Then he nodded again. “More security.” It didn’t seem like he was listening anymore, it was like he was making a list of things to bring. “Doctors.” You looked at him surprised yet again, blinking the surprise out of your face and morphing into a stern look . “ You want to fly out my doctor all around the world?”
“If necessary.” Michael says as if it was the most normal thing in the world as he shrugged his shoulders. “Michael!” You said, you were completely surprised by now, at the same time you expected it. “What?” He says with a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m just being practical.”
“No you’re being insane right now.” When Michael heard your words he laughed as you kept on looking at him as if he had grown a second head. “I prefer committed, baby.”
That’s the moment you tried to put your foot down with Michael, he was being a bit ridiculous and over the top with it. Man you loved that about him tho. "No, Michael. We're not flying my doctor around the world." For a second Michael stopped and he looked at you as if you were insane, as if he wasn’t. “Why not?” He said with a tilt to his head trying to comprehend what you just said, almost like you were an alien. “Because it’s insane,” the words left you trying to reason with him as you moved your hands trying to make him understand a bit more. “It’s not insane.” Michael said as he shook his head trying to prove his point. “It literally is.” You said nodding as he was just stressing you out more. “What I said it’s practical.” He said proud of himself. “For who?” You put your hands to your face and breathed in and out for a second, trying to relax instead of stressing more. “Well, for us, sweetheart.”
“Michael, we're supposed to be trying for a baby, not planning a military operation." Michael was quiet for a minute. You opened up your eyes trying to decipher what he was thinking at the moment. “Well… aren’t we trying for a baby? That’s exactly why you should be there with me.” You blink three times not wanting to deal with that even longer so you just let out, “I’m ovulating.” Michael’s eyes widened at your words because he didn’t expect them for a second, and then he blinked. He blinks again. The third time he blinked he looked at you and said, “Well?” You look at him as if he had just asked the most stupid question ever. “Well, what?”
Michael just pulls the covers over himself. “Are we gonna do this or not?” You look at him trying to decipher how Michael’s mind works because at the moment you were even more annoyed than ever. "Michael Jackson, I am too annoyed to even look at you right now."
“Well then roll over.”
The reader listening to Michael make plan for her to stay with him as he tours around the world.
