#michael jackson dad

[orangecatauthor]

Smooth Criminal’s Cradle || Michael x Wife! Reader ||

Synopsis: Michael could barely leave you alone during your pregnancy he was practically more attached to than the baby.

Format: One-shot

⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼

You woke up early in the morning and couldn't move...Why couldn't you move? You frowned as you looked down. A pillow. Another one. Another.

"...?" You looked to your left. Pillow. To your right. Pillow. Behind your head. Pillow. Beneath your knees. Pillow.

"...Michael." No answer. You tried to sit up. Nope. You were officially trapped. Your belly too big for you to sit up.

"Michael!" His sock covered feet hurried down the hallway. "What happened?" he asked as he peeked into the bedroom. You blinked at him. "Why am I in a pillow prison?"

He looked at the bed, then at you before smiling proudly. "Oh! You said you couldn't get comfortable last night so...I made you a nest."

"...A nest." You said feeling grouchy.

"Mhm." He smiled.

"...Michael." you warned him.

"Mhm?"

"I can't get out." His smile slowly faded. "...You can't?"

You were starting to feel our of breathe in the pillow imprisonment "No."

"...Oh." He scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't think about that."

"I can tell."

He climbed onto the bed and started removing the pillows one by one until you were finally free. You sat up with a dramatic sigh. "...You know I'm pregnant, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Not an egg." He blinked before a shy laugh escaped him. "I know."

You couldn't help but laugh too, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for my nest. "

His face immediately lit up. "You liked it?"

You shook your head. "I hated being imprisoned. " His smile dropped.

"...But..." you continued, smiling softly, "it was really sweet." His grin came right back. "Good...I just wanted you to be comfortable."

You finally climbed out of bed, stretching your arms above your head with a relieved sigh. Michael stood there watching you with the softest smile you'd ever seen.

"What?" you asked, smoothing down one of his oversized shirts that barely covered your bump. He shook his head, his eyes never leaving you. "Nothin'..."

You narrowed your eyes. "Tell me."

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "...You're just..." He laughed quietly to himself before looking down for a second. "...You're so pretty."

You looked down at yourself. Messy hair. Sleepy eyes. One of his shirts and fuzzy socks. "Michael, I look like I just woke up."

"You did." He said.

"...Exactly." He stepped closer, resting both hands gently on either side of your bump before leaning down to press the sweetest little kiss against it. "I don't know..." he murmured with a bashful smile.

"I think pregnancy looks real nice on you." Your cheeks warmed immediately. "You are so biased."

He looked back up at you with that boyish grin. "No, you're just beautiful." Then, as if he couldn't help himself, he leaned in and kissed your forehead. "...I just can't stop lookin' at you."

You were in the middle of a yawn, stretching your arms over your head when you felt a hard poke against your side. Without thinking, you swatted the hand away.

Michael looked over at you, completely confused, his brows furrowing together. "What'd I do?" It took you a second before you realized what had happened. "Oh..." you laughed sheepishly. "I'm sorry. The baby kicked me and I thought you poked me." Michael immediately doubled over laughing, covering his face. "My baby already wants to start a fight between us." You laughed, pointing a finger at him. "The baby's just sad you're going away." His smile softened. He stood up and gently took your hands in his. "I'm gonna miss you," he said quietly. "Every single day." His thumbs rubbed over the backs of your hands.

"I'll call you all the time, I promise. And I'll be home before your due date." He leaned down and kissed your forehead before pulling back just enough to look at you.

"Do you want anything?" You shook your head. The morning sickness had stolen whatever appetite you had. "No..." you murmured. "...But my back." Before you could say another word, Michael was already walking behind you.

His hands rested gently against your lower back, carefully working out the tight knots with his thumbs. "Here?" he asked softly. You let out a long, content groan. "Mmm..."

He shook his head lightly. "I'll take that as a yes."

The next morning came far too quickly. You were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you wandered into the bedroom doorway, watching Michael zip up the last of his suitcase. "I'm coming with you," you mumbled. He looked over his shoulder before shaking his head. "No, you're not."

You frowned. "Why not?"

"Because it's five in the morning." You shrugged. "So?"

"So..." he walked over, gently taking your hands into his. "I don't want you standing around at the airport when you should be resting." You sighed.

"Michael." He caressed your arm. "Mhm?"

"I'm taking my husband to the airport."

He only shook his head. "No." You let out an exaggerated groan. "You are no fun."

He laughed quietly. "You'll get tired." You dramatically defended yourself. "I'll sit down." He argued back "You'll catch a cold." You shot back quickly. "It's summer."

"...You'll..." He paused, trying to think of another excuse. "...You'll miss breakfast." You couldn't help but laugh. "That's your excuse?"

He smiled sheepishly. "...Maybe." You crossed your arms. "I'm still coming."

"Nope." He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Michael." You pleaded.

"Nope. Nope. Nope."

"Michael Joseph Jackson." He bit back a grin. "No." You stared at each other for a second before sighing dramatically. "Fine."

His sighed. "Thank you." You looked away from him. "But I'm mad at you."

"You'll survive." He teased you back.

"I might not." He laughed again before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into the hug with a small sigh, resting your head against his chest. Neither of you said anything for a little while. His hand slowly rubbed your back before he kissed the top of your head. "Now." He pulled back just enough to look at you. "The rules." You immediately groaned.

"I know I know..." He smiled. "No lifting anything."

You only nodded and hummed as he droned on and on about his rules. "No climbing on chairs." "If you can't reach something..."

"...Leave it there." You finished his sentence. "Good. Don't skip meals."

"I won't."

"And if anything feels funny" He rested his hand over your bump. "You call me." You smiled softly. "You got it, boss" He looked at you for another second before leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I'm gonna miss you so much." Your heart squeezed. "I will too."

"I already miss you." You laughed quietly, poking him in the side. "Go away."

He jumped dramatically. "Ouch!"

"Go." You pointed at the car.

"You're mean."

"I love you too." He picked up his suitcase, giving you one last smile before heading outside. You watched from the front door as he carefully loaded the luggage into the car. Just as he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, you couldn't help yourself.

You wandered down the driveway toward the open window. The second Michael saw you, his whole face lit up. He immediately leaned out of the window, reaching for your hand before gently cupping your cheek. "One more," he whispered. You smiled, leaning in until your lips met his in one last slow kiss. He lingered for just a moment before resting his forehead against yours. "I'll call you as soon as I land."

"You better."

"I will." You smiled, brushing a curl away from his forehead. "Drive safe." He stole one last quick kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Take care of my two favorite people." You laughed softly, resting your hand over your stomach. "Only if you promise to take care of yourself too." He smiled, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I promise." Neither of you moved for a second.

"You gotta go," you whispered. "I know." He said, unable to take his eyes off of you.

"Go!"

"Gee...fine I'll go..." You smiled through the little ache already growing in your chest. "Michael." He laughed, finally signalling to the driver to put the car into gear.

As he slowly drove away, he kept one hand out the window, waving until he disappeared around the corner. You stood there long after the car was gone, your hand resting over your stomach. "Daddy's gonna be home before you know it."

You hadn't slept at all yet. had tried. You laid in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, glancing at the clock every few minutes. Every little sound had you reaching for the phone. By the time it finally rang nearly twelve hours later, you were already halfway to it. "Hello?" you answered almost instantly. "Hey, beautiful" Michael's voice came through the receiver followed by a quiet laugh. "You answered really fast." You smiled, sinking onto the couch.

"I've been waiting for your call."

You knew he was going to be upset but...oh well he had to deal with it. "You haven't been asleep?" You stayed quiet for a second. "No."

"Baby..." His voice softened immediately. "I told you to rest."

You rubbed your eyes. "I couldn't until I knew you landed safely." You heard him sigh, though there was a smile behind it. "I landed safe."

"I know now." You really did feel relived that he was safe in his hotel room.

"Everything okay?" he asked. You nodded before realizing he couldn't see you. "Yeah. Everything's fine. The baby kicked me twice today."

"Really?" His voice instantly brightened. "Mhm, already causin' trouble." You laughed.

"I think the baby's mad you left."

"I'm mad I left too." The two of you fell quiet for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to end the call. "I miss you," Michael admitted softly. "I miss you more."

He tsked. "That's impossible." You smiled to yourself. "Is not." He laughed quietly before you heard voices in the background calling his name. "I gotta get ready."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Already?"

"I'm on in a couple hours." Your heart sank just a little. "...Okay."

"Promise me something?"

"What?" You held the phone cord in your fingers playing with it absentmindedly.

"After we hang up..." his voice became gentle again, "I want you to go straight to bed."

You smiled, already knowing where this was going. "I'm serious. And no cleaning."

"I wasn't gonna clean." You couldn't stop smiling at how caring he was.

"Good."

"Anything else?"

He thought for a second. "Give the baby a kiss for me." Your smile softened as you rested your hand over your bump. "I'll give two."

"One from me..." he said quietly. "...And one from you."

"Ok I promise." Another silence settled between you, neither of you wanting to say goodbye. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you too."

"Sweet dreams."

"Break a leg." He laughed. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting." You said anything to stay on the phone longer with him. "I know you will."

You smiled to yourself as the line went quiet. Looking down at your stomach, you gently rubbed your bump with your thumb. "Daddy says goodnight."

Two weeks was all the tour had been going for. You were only halfway through folding one of Michael's shirts when a strange warmth suddenly spread down your legs.

You froze. "No." You looked down. "No, no, no..." The shirt slipped from your hands as another cramp rolled through your stomach, stronger than any Braxton Hicks you'd felt before. You gripped the edge of the table, bending forward with a groan. "...Oh..." Your breathing grew uneven as you hurried toward the phone, one hand supporting your back while the other dialed the number you knew by heart.

"Come on..." you whispered, another contraction forcing you to stop mid-sentence. "Come on, Michael..." The line continued to ring. You squeezed your eyes shut before remembering the time. He was on stage.

Your heart sank, but you quickly waited for the tone. "Michael" you breathed, trying to catch your breath between contractions. "...My water broke." You let out another shaky groan, gripping the kitchen counter as the pain eased just enough to continue. "I'm...I'm going to the hospital." You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don't call home...call the hospital. They'll tell you where I am." Another contraction made you double over. "I love you." The beep signaled the end of the message. You rested your forehead against the counter for a second before calling out as loudly as you could. "Maria!" Within seconds, hurried footsteps echoed through the house. The housekeeper rounded the corner, her eyes immediately dropping to the puddle on the floor before widening. "Oh my goodness!"

You felt a wave of nausea hit. "The baby's coming," you managed between breaths. Everything suddenly burst into motion. One maid grabbed your hospital bag that had been packed for weeks. Another called the doctor. One of Michael's security guards was already pulling the car around the front entrance. "Easy...easy," Maria said, wrapping an arm around your waist as another contraction hit. You buried your face against her shoulder with a pained groan, waiting for it to pass. "I've got you."

Slowly, they helped you outside. One guard opened the car door while another carefully helped you into the backseat, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. Maria climbed in beside you, taking your hand. "We're on our way." You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

"...He doesn't even know." Maria gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "He will."

Michael had barely stepped off stage when one of his security guards hurried over. "Mr. Jackson, the cars are ready. We have to head to the airport." Michael nodded absentmindedly, reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone. One voicemail. From you.

He smiled to himself before pressing play. "Michael..." Your voice was shaky, interrupted by a strained groan. "My water broke." His smile vanished and he stopped walking.

"...I'm going to the hospital. Don't call home..." You sucked in a sharp breath as another contraction hit. "...Call the hospital. They'll tell you where I am..."

Another pained groan escaped you. "I love you." The message ended. "...No..." he whispered before replaying it. "...No..."

"Sir?" one of the guards asked cautiously. Michael looked up, his eyes already filling with tears. "I have to go back."

"Mr. Jackson, the next show—"

"I don't care!" he cried. "My baby's being born!" Within minutes the tour was thrown into chaos. The next flight was cancelled, a private jet was arranged and Michael barely remembered getting on it. Twelve whole hours. He couldn't sit still. Every few minutes he'd stand up only to sit back down again, pacing the aisle with his hands tangled in his curls before burying his face in them. "I promised." he whispered brokenly. "I told her I'd be there..." Tears rolled freely down his cheeks as frustration settled deep in his chest.

It wasn't fair. You were bringing your baby into the world alone while he was thousands of miles away. The second the jet landed a car was already waiting. Michael climbed in before the door had fully opened. "Please," he pleaded. "Please hurry." The car barely came to a stop outside the hospital before he was running through the entrance. "Labor and delivery!" he called breathlessly. A nurse pointed down the hallway. "Room 214." He ran. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. Without knocking, he pushed the door open. The room was quiet. You looked up first, exhausted, your hair messy, dark circles beneath your eyes but smiling. Resting peacefully against your chest was the tiniest bundle wrapped in a pink hospital blanket. Michael froze.

His lip trembled. Without a word he hurried to your bedside, immediately cupping your face with both hands as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing your forehead once. Twice. Three times. "I'm so sorry...I'm sorry...I promised I'd be here. I tried, baby. I tried..." You smiled tiredly and gently took his hand.

"Michael..." He shook his head. "I wasn't here."

"I'm so sorry." You softly shushed him before tilting your head toward the tiny bundle sleeping against your chest. "Look." His watery eyes finally dropped. He stared. A tiny nose. Tiny lips. Tiny little fingers tucked beneath her chin. His breath caught. "She's..." His voice cracked into a laugh. "...She's a girl?" You nodded, unable to stop smiling.

"A little girl." He let out the smallest sob before looking back at you. "Can I hold her?" You carefully lifted your daughter into his waiting arms.

He held her as though she were the most precious thing in the world, terrified to move even an inch. His thumb gently brushed across her tiny hand and, as if she already knew him, her little fingers wrapped around his. Michael smiled through his tears, unable to look away. "Hi, baby," he whispered. "I'm your daddy."

⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼

[man-in-the-mirror58]

The love you give -> chapter 13- teaser

Masterlist - read the full series now

Comment if you want to be tagged: <3

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Plot: Michael joins you for your second doctors appointment to see the baby and he’s a little more than nervous

Themes: pregnancy, medical terms, fluff,

A/n: everything is purely fiction, this also happeneds during the year 1990 so entering the dangerous era. English is not my first language

Michael holds your hand tightly, his leg bouncing nervously as the two of you wait for the doctor to come in. It's your second checkup since finding out about the baby, so you know what to expect, but it's Michael's first. "Michael honey, stop bouncing-" he shoots you an apologetic look, trying his best to stop, resuming as soon as the door swings open and your doctor walks in. Michael stands up, politely extending his hand to introduce himself to Jordan. "Hi I'm Michael!" You bite back a laugh watching Jordan's eyes travel from Michael's hand to his face to you.

"Doctor Blake!" Jordan smiles, shaking Michael hand and gesturing for him to sit down. You watch amused as Jordan flips through the paperwork sitting on his desk, still very startled by the grand reveal that Michael Jackson was your baby daddy. "Um so the bloodwork looks good, your iron is a little low and your glucose is a little elevated."

"Is that bad?" Michael cuts the doctor off, leaning a bit forward as if being an inch closer he'll hear the answer better. "Ugh" Jordan's eyes dart to you and you mouth "sorry" giggling under your breath. "Not necessarily, I'll prescribe some iron supplements, give some dietary advice and I'll have you come back later in the week for a test for gestational diabetes-"

"What's that? That sounds bad! Is it bad?" You reach over and touch Michael's shoulder, pulling him back a bit. "Honey let the doctor explain!" You try calmly, petting his arm to soothe him. He nods, licking his lips, fiddling with his hands in his lap. "Look dad, I know this is a stressful time, but you and I have to team up to help mom and baby, you need to be calm for her, she's already going through the stress of having a life grow inside of her." The moment the doctor called Michael "dad" and you "mom" his heart skips a beat and his head whips around to look at you. "I'm sorry!" He says squeezing your hand. "It's ok!" You assure, looking back at Jordan to keep explaining.

"Well you will come in and drink 500ml of a very sweet drink, it's straight up glucose, very safe for you and baby. After that we wait and draw blood at 30 minutes, an hour and then two hours after the drink, results will tell us if you need to reduce sugar. Gestational diabetes is very manageable and goes away after you give birth." The doctor explains and you rub a slow hand over your belly, calming yourself down. "But let's not worry about that now, tell me how you've been feeling y/n?"

"Oh, the nausea has gone away mostly, I do however have a hard time sleeping, I get these hot flashes and it's just insufferable." Michael flinches remembering how cold you keep the bedroom nowadays. He has to sleep with his winter pajamas and a blanket, while you sleep almost naked, tossing and turning all night. He doesn't mind the cold, but he does mind the fact that you won't let him cuddle you, because his body feels like a furnace against your body. "Well I hate to tell you this, but what you're experiencing is the standard and because we've known each other so long I won't sugar coat it, it'll get worse!" He smirks and you groan, knowing even before he told you the that would be the case. "Is there reality nothing we can do to help her a bit?" Michael chimes in, sounding as concerned as ever. "I'll write down some stuff that could help, but every pregnancy is different, you'll just have to experiment at home and find what works." Michael nods, carefully listening to the doctor, he was always like that, observant and very aware when a person spoke to him, but more so when that person was the doctor handling his pregnant fiancee. "Ok now shall we see the baby?" Jordan claps his hands, looking excitedly between the two of you.

You stand up, going over to the examination table. "I'll give you a moment, then when you're settled just push the blue button!" Jordan says as he quickly leaves you and Michael alone in the room. You start unzipping your skirt, taking it off with your panties. "Whoa, what are you doing?" Michael quickly walks up to stop you. "I need to get undressed baby, he's a gynecologist after all." You laugh, folding your skirt and underwear, walking over to the examination table and sitting down, draping a one use sheet over your lower half. "And he'll look down there?" Michael sounds so unsure, it's comical. "Yes Michael, that's how we see the baby, come here stop worrying!" You stretch out your for him to grab and press the blue button to call the doctor as soon as he settles next to you.

The door opens and doctor Jordan walks in, stopping by the hand sanitizer dispenser. Michael tenses up, squeezing your hand a little harder, but not to the point where it becomes uncomfortable. "Ok, legs up and scoot down as much as possible!" You giggle when Michael looks at your face wondering. "Okay, everything looks good, I'll put the speculum in right now, just relax!" You hiss, squeezing Michael's hand. "Does it hurt?" He whispers near your ear. "No, it's just cold." You confess, breathing through your mouth. "The cervix looks great are you ready for the ultrasound?" Jordan asks, preparing the probe. "Um where does that go?" This time you can't stifle the laughter and Jordan can't hold back his smile either. "Inside me Mike, don't worry, I've had this done before."

"Women have to go through this all the time?" Michael asks. "Yep!" You tense up when Jordan puts the probe inside you. "Ok mom and dad, you ready?" He asks, pushing some buttons and then turning the screen around for you and Michael to see.

Tags: @smoothcriminalgf @kisscoqueen @neworleansgurl @inggu09 @gissellec1 @sarcasmismyfirstlove @bonesxinny@muddyloserlia @loverstar014 @getthisoverwith33 @softchaosdiary505 @persassyjacksonsblog @minaridior @xyahx @narratedillusions @mjenthusiaist @18lkpeters @julsicles@jisoonnieslover@sarcasmismyfirstlove @delusionalfreakfrick @misspiggyluver@vigilantlysassypact @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @asmodette @billiejeansis @michaelsflower @neworleansgurl @youremissing0u7 @tojiswifeforlife

[jvysimx]

Text messages between Michael!dad

IM SCAREDDD ITS MY FIRST TIME POSTING SOMETHING 💔💔

[man-in-the-mirror58]

-> chapter 12

Masterlist - full series and more

Comment if you want to be tagged

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem reader

Plot: after telling Michael you are pregnant a lot of feelings come tumbling over. What does he actually think about? Is he ready to be a dad? Are you ready to change your life forever? A few years ago you were just his lawyer and now you’re his everything, how will the two of you navigate that?

Themes: pregnancy, fear, angst, fluff, smut(18+), oral ( f receiving), slight daddy kink, bodily fluids, crying, cursing.

Wc: ~5.8k

A/n: this is around the year 1990 so Michael is working on the dangerous album. Everything is fake because it’s fiction. English is not my first language! Also this is not proof read!

You rock back and forth with Michael holding you tight to his chest, cradling you head against his shoulder. The sound of your baby's beating heart filling the space of the dark studio. Neither of you moved since the confession you made, standing there intertwined, absorbing the fact. "Michael, I'm scared!" You admit, lifting your head to look at him. His eyes are glossed over, cheeks red and lips swollen, he's been silently crying with joy. "I'm scared too y/n!" He admits, the back of his hand brushing your cheek, wiping away some of your tears.

"Are you mad?" The question is absurd to Michael, how could he be mad about something he's waited his whole life for. He suppresses a laugh when he's met with your eyes. You look genuinely worried, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. "Y/n no! Why would I?" His voice soft brushes your nerves as you drop your forehead against his chest, new tears making their way out of your eyes, soaking into the cotton of his flannel shirt. "Baby." The hold on your waist tightens bringing you closer if that were even possible. His left hand moves to brush through your hair, soothing you like your would a child.

"It's just, unexpected and we're not married and we've only been together for barely a year. We haven't even made it out to the public, oh god!" The realization of what you just said, shoots through you like lightning, causing you to jump out of his arms and start pacing the floor, hands nervously brushing through your hair. Michael stands frozen hands slightly angled towards you, reaching for you, but ultimately letting you free. "The press will rip you apart, they you haunt us. I can already see the titles, them calling me names, maybe they'll say I baby trapped you. What if they say Branca was right all along, that I whored myself to you to get you to sign with my law firm. Oh god oh god!" You were losing it, hyperventilating and trashing at your clothes feeling trapped. The room was starting to close in on you and you felt dizzy. Michael knows he has to intervene, stepping forward, grabbing you forcefully but still gentle. "Y/n stop that, stop! It doesn't matter what they say or do, we know the truth, we do! It's us just us!" You fight him, trying to escape his hold, but his stronger. "It's easy for you to say, my career will be over, they'll run me over, chew me down and spit me out like nothing."

"They do that to me all the time, it's part of who I am, I can't control it!" Michael defends, dropping your hands and stepping back. Your words hurt him, made him feel like you were holding him to blame. In your agitated state of mind something pushes through your conscience and you see him slump against the couch, crouching forward, elbows on his knees, head falling in his hands. The silence covers you both like a heavy blanket.

Instinctively your hands rest on your lower belly and you close your eyes sighing and cursing under your breath. Slow careful steps carry you to him. Michael lifts his head up, opening his arms for you to step into, settling onto his lap. Curled against him, head buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne. "I'm sorry, I - , I just hate this.." Michael's stomach drops, what if by this you mean him and his baby. One of his large hands flies to your abdomen, spreading his fingers over your front. "I hate feeling out of control. I can't do this alone Michael, I need you, I-" your voice cracks, unable to keep talking.

The fire in his chest settles, you don't hate him, he knows that, he knows you must be scared shitless. Understanding him kisses to top of your head, cupping your cheek to force you to look up at him. His soft lips land on yours, putting to rest some of your turmoil. "I'm here, I'm always going to be, we are partners in crime, remember?"

You giggle, blinking away some tears, which he catches with his lips, letting the salty liquid melt onto his tongue. He breathes you in, letting your scent invade his lungs, making him drunk. "My partner in crime!" You say, cupping his cheek, smiling at him, resting your forehead against his, your noses brushing together. "I love you!" Michael whispers peppering kisses all over your face, your lids, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth.

"Let's get home, I want to hold you!" Before you can protest, Michael already reaches over to grab the phone and dial Bill. "Coming right up joker!" Bill's voice comes through the receiver.

As you cuddle closer to him, suddenly you remember something, grinning and getting up from his lap. "What's wrong sunflower?" Michael tries to hide the concern in his voice, but fails. "I have more to show you!" Curious eyes watch you strode over to the desk to grab the huge envelope, coming back to him, curling into his arms again. "Here!" You show him the black and white pictures. "What am I looking at angel?"

"This blip of white, that's the baby, Jordan said it's the size of a blueberry.!" You point.

"That tiny?" He asks in awe, squinting his eyes at the blurry picture. You nod, looking at him analizing the image. Michael has only seen these pictures when his brothers's wifes were pregnant and showing them around for everyone. He's always wondered when the time would come for him to experience that. Now he holds his own pictures. Michael looks at you, you look the same as you did when he first met you, but now you have life growing inside you, his baby.

The door opens and in comes Bill's head, his eyes landing on you both. "Ready to go joker?" He asks and you nod, standing up. Michael goes over to the control panel, taking the cd out and putting it carefully back into the envelope. "Let's go!" He reaches for your hand, walking out with you. "Ugh before we step out, there's some paparazzi out there, only a few, nothing crazy, but we could work out to get you out separately, Sam is also here!" Michael nods to the plan, but then you surprise him, squeezing his hand. "No, let them take pictures if they want, we have nothing to hide. I love you!" The look of devotion you give him melts his heart. "I love you more!"

"Deal!" You grin standing on your tippy toes, kissing the tip of his nose, causing him to scrunch it up. You take a deep breath and walk hand in hand, opening the door. Bill was right there weren't many paparazzi, maybe 12 at most, but they came alive the second the door opened and Michael stepped through. But the second you make it out that door, that's when the screaming starts.

"Who is she?"

"Are you dating?"

"Michael is she your girlfriend?"

"How long has this been going on?!"

"Hei pretty look here!"

"Give us a smile!"

"Michael! Michael!"

Michael holds the door to the car for you, letting you settle in the back seat before him. He waves to the photographers giving them a few smiles, then slots right next to you. Leaning over you he grabs the seatbelt clipping it over your flat belly. "Drive safe Bill! We got special cargo!" You blush, biting your lip to supress a smile. "Special cargo huh?" You quirk a brow at him, causing him to blush, the tips of his ears a light shade of pink. "The most precious of all!" He whispers back, one of his hands resting on your tummy, caressing you through your blouse. Giggling softly you lean your head on his shoulder, watching out the window at the tall buildings passing by.

Your eyes flutter closed, the adrenaline from earlier finally draining out of you. Michael holds you to his side, humming softy in your ear, further lulling you to sleep. Bill spares the two of you a look in the rear view mirror, smiling, he's knows Michael since the age of 7, he's seen him grow into the man he is today. If somebody were to ask Bill you were the greatest blessing to happen to Michael, not his hits songs or number one albums, not his sold out shows or his masses of fainting fans, you, the woman who broke down the chains holding him hostage. Bill even remembers the night he met you.

- flashback to 1987 three years ago-

"Sir I'm telling you mr Jackson needs to hear this, you need to let me through. I know you, you are Bill Bray, his head of security, but most of all you have been here since day one." You stood a few inches shorter than him, looking up at Bill with a determination he's rarely seen from a lady your size. You had a vip pass and somehow squeezed your way backstage unnoticed, but he was still agile enough to tell an intruder out in a crowd. "Miss I really don't know what you're selling but Mr Jackson doesn't need to hear anything from you, please leave!" He's seen Michael's fans, dealt with them for decades now, this is a first though, none of them ever held their composure like this.

You cross your arms over your chest, puffing annoyed. "Sir I'm not a crazed fan, I'm a lawyer I told you, I'm here representing Goodwin law." You show him your business card, the one you shoved in his face just minutes ago when this bickering started. He almost believes you, but he can't risk, what if you end up being a psychopath. "Fine!" You slam the business card against his chest, his hand instinctively going over yours, while his other rests over the taser clipped on his belt. Your eyes flicker to the weapon, a shiver traveling down your spine. Retracting your hand from his chest you rummage through your bag, pulling out a thick file. "Read!"

He takes the file from you, opening it, reading over it glancing between you and the papers in his hands. "This is, what is this?!"

"You can read can't you?" Bill gives you a look and you immediately regret snapping at him. "Sorry! Those are court official documents, I need to show them to mr Jackson. Sir they are exploiting him! They treat him like a money mule and they don't give a shit about the impact it has in him." Bill's hands shake slightly, closing the file and giving it back to you. A quick motion of his head gives you the Ok to enter Michael's dressing room. "He'll be here in 10, I'll make sure he's alone. Don't make me regret this young lady!" He points a finger at you, almost like a father scolding his daughter. You give him a decided nod, looking like you're ready to tear down mountains if you have to.

Bill doesn't actually know what you and Michael spoke, how you approached him or how he responded, but later in the car he can tell something's troubling Michael. He recognizes the file on his lap as the one you gave him to read over. "You Ok joker?" Bill asks. Michael rubs his chin lost in thought. "Yeah... just stuff."

"You know I saw a pretty lady walk out of your dressing room, you catch some good fish?" A ghost of a smile flashes on Michael's lips, quickly disappearing into his thoughtful expression. "She was pretty wasn't she?" He asks absentmindedly, making Bill rise his brows in surprise. "You have her number?"

"I do, but I don't know if I should call her." Michael sounds sad, almost like he wants to cry, Bill knows all too well when emotions get the best of him. "I think you should!" Bill says decided. "You don't even know her!" Michael accuses, hands clasping the file in his lap, crinkling it. His grip is so strong his knuckles turn white. "I know her son, call her!" Michael glances out the window, tears flowing down his cheeks as he silently cries in the back of the car. "I need to see her, I have to see her." Michael decides. "Then I'll drive you to her first thing tomorrow. I have a good feeling about her joker!"

-end of flashback-

Bill couldn't exactly explain what exactly you did to inspire that much trust, maybe it was your feistiness and your fight. Or maybe it was just a feeling you give to people since everyone you meet seems to be on the same wave length as Bill was that night three years ago.

The car pulls in the driveway and Michael shakes you awake, whispering sweet nothings in your ears. "Sunflower, we're home! You need me to carry you?" He asks brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. You groan, rubbing your face into his shoulder, gripping his flannel shirt pulling him closer. Michael smiles, brushing your hair back. "I'm sure the bed is much more comfortable than the car mama!" The nickname has your head spinning, he started calling you that every now and then, but now given the situation it rattles through your bones and pours warm honey into you. "Just give me a minute." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head, undoing the seatbelt and opening the door to step out of the car. Michael quickly gets out of the car running around to help you get out. "Honey I'm fine!" You reassure him, patting his chest.

You walk to the house and Michael stands back a second, watching you, suddenly a flash of a dream he had a few years back, plays in his head. Looking around he realizes something, this is home, this secluded mansion on the outskirts of New York City, surrounded by tall trees circling around the land. It's like he's dream. He always thought that Neverland was gonna be his forever home, he built it like that, but the dream of your family never happened on Neverland grounds, it happened somewhere else. Now he knows, it happened here.

"Mike, you coming?" You shout, looking back at him. "Yeah!" He takes one more look around and then jogs all the way to you. "Silly boy!" You shake your head when he grins at you, bending down to leave a sloppy wet kiss to your cheek.

The house is warm, waiting for you, over the course of time you left your touch on the place as well. The stark difference? Not one object is out of place. Michael is a hoarder and you are a control freak, so you spend most of your free time organizing through his things, encouraging him to donate the things he doesn't need. You also begged him to paint the walls a cream color the red he chose was giving you headaches, he was a little reluctant, but agreed. You also wanted more light and tame colors, you appreciated his baroc style and the bold colors, but you suggested that maybe the sun room could be in shades of light brown and olive green, so he pleased you by giving you free hand to choose whatever you liked.

Now you spend most days here with him, only crashing at your apartment when Michael was out of the city working or when New York traffic showed to be impenetrable. This mansion, that you still argued was way too big, has become your home day by day. You befriended the staff as well, there weren't as many as there were at Neverland, it was only Gary the handyman and Gardner , Lou the chef, but she only came by twice a week and the maids Hannah and Jo. After living your whole life in the heart of loud consuming New York, the change to the quiet was a bit startling, but you had grown to love waking up on weekends and drinking your coffee with Michael on the back patio, enjoying the fresh air.

"Are you hungry? It's Thursday so Lou must've been by to do some cooking." Michael suggests and you nod, suddenly feeling in fact famished, you haven't eaten at all today. "Sure, I'll go take a quick shower, I still have the gel from the ultrasound sound on me." You explain, walking up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. The shower is quick and you find some old oversized clothes to put on, accompanied by fuzzy socks, one thing you hated here, was the always cold floors.

Coming into the kitchen your nose is met with the appetizing smell of chicken noodle soup being warmed on the stove. You find Michael setting up the table, putting a bowl down for each of you. He's also showered and changed into more comfortable clothes. His curly hair rests damp around his head, making him look boyish. "Chicken noodle soup! There was some lasagna and fish with vegetables, but I thought this was more enjoyable now." You smile, sitting down at the table.

"Are you nauseous?" He asks, pouring a big glass of water for you and one of orange juice for him. The disgust on your face makes him chuckle. "That combination, nasty!" You point to the juice and the steaming bowl of soup. "But no, not right now. This morning however I puked about 15 times, Shanon actually joked that maybe I was pregnant, so I got 10 tests, from different brands, all positive!" Sipping some of the soup you let it warm you up.

"Ten?" Michael knows you can be a little over the top, but this seems excessive. You nod. "I wasn't taking any chances."

"So then you went to the doctor?"

"Yeah, I had to bribe the front desk nurse, 200 bucks, but it was worth it, Jordan is the best gynecologist, he recently moved his office from Seattle." Michael eats some of the soup listening to you talk, he adores when you talk.

"How long have you known him?" Michael asks, deducting that Jordan must be an old friend of yours. "Oh long, he and Mark,were class mates in college." Michael knows of Mark, he knows you broke up when he asked you to marry him, but doesn't know much else, he feels a flicker of jealousy at the thought that you and your ex might be in contact. He wouldn't forbid you to talk to any of your exes but he wouldn't forbid feel more at ease to know. "Do you and Mark keep in touch?" He asks, looking at you through his lashes. "Sometimes, I know he's married now, his wife, Lexie, I think, she's a neurosurgeon, he has a daughter, but she's not Lexie's, last I heard they were expecting, but that was years ago so the baby is probably a toddler now." After that you make small talk, he tells you some more about the album, apparently he's hit a rough patch, because he feels like every song sounds like the other so he's struggling. You reassure him that inspiration will struck him when he least expect, helping him clean the table, doing the dishes together. From the outside the picture of you two doing life is so domestic and loving, Michael is truly amazed by how natural life with you feels.

You rub lotion all over your body, settling in bed with him. Michael reads, opening one arm for you to snuggle under. "I was thinking, maybe we should tell everyone after the first trimester is over, that means two maybe three more weeks? It's just this weird superstition I grew up with, my mom always said that women get way too excited and announce way too early they're pregnant, it breeds bad luck." Michael hums, brushing his hand up and down your back, closing his book to give you his full undivided attention. "Whatever makes you happy. If I could I'd take the moon from the sky and lay it in your hands." He whispers, sliding under the covers with you. "I know, I would do the same for you Mike."

"You're already doing more than that!" He kisses you softly, sliding his tongue in your mouth, dominating you. His hands grip your waist, holding your hips from grinding against his. "Mmm isn't this what got us here in the first place?" He jokes, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. "Oh shut up, the damage is done, so take off your clothes and make love to me Michael Joseph Jackson!"

"Oh we're doing full government names now?" Michael quirks, laughing softly. "Mhm, or I could call you daddy!" You suggest, squealing at the sudden movement he makes, turning you on your back hovering over you. "Say it again!" Michael begs, eyes dark with lust. You can feel him hot and heavy against your thigh. "What? Daddy?" You whisper in his ear, earning a groan from him, accentuated by a thrust of his hips against you. "Fuck!" You curse, throwing your head back to give him room to kiss. "I love you mama!" You shiver, excitement pooling in your panties. "I love you too, daddy!" You moan, grinding against him.

Michael takes his time peeling each and every layer of clothing, hands caressing your skin in adoration. Every move is monumental, you've had plenty of sex with him, but this time, this time around it feels different. Michael soaks you in, walking his fingers over the swell of your breasts. "Ahh." His eyes snap at you worried. "Just a little sore, that's all." Michael smiled to himself, your body is already changing to accommodate the life growing inside you. His hands massage the skin stretching over your belly, peppering soft kisses around your belly button. He can already picture you, heavy with your baby, tummy round and perky. Michael is excited, his hard cock twitching in his pants, begging to be let out. "Michael!" You sigh bowing off the bed, opening your legs wider for him to slot right between them.

Michael hooks your thighs over his shoulders, taking you in, pussy pink and puffy, dripping with desire, body arched and reaching out to him, begging to be consumed. An animalistic groan vibrates from deep within his chest, his tongue darting out to lick  up your slit. The sweet nectar of you melts onto his taste buds, making him drunk. "God it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted." He moans, going back for more, eating you like a starved man. He's everywhere, his tongue dances over you clit in sweet devotion. Warm, wet lips suction around your bundle of nerves, sucking hard, his head moving slightly from side to side. Michael moans against you, sending vibrations up your spine. "M-Mike!" You whine trashing under him. Hands threading in his lavish curls.

"Mmm" his strong voice pierces through your muscles, rolling up your back. It's consuming. Shallow breaths pass your plump lips and you feel like climbing up a high. Head dizzy, your hair rubs against the pillows turning into a birds nest. Michael looks up at you through his lashes, seeing heaven before his eyes, you look gorgeous, your head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight. A single finger circles your hole, teasing, earning a frustrated groan from you. Michael smirks against you, loving the effect he has on you. "Mike baby, don't tease!" You whine, causing a chuckle to bubble in his throat.

Two fingers enter you at once, giving you no time to adjust. He curls them just right, massaging that spot inside you, making you curl your toes. "Yess!" One of your hands lands on your mouth, trying to muffle some of the noise. "No baby! I want to hear you! Loud and clear!" Michael instructs, going back to his ministrations. Pleasure twists low in your gut, each stroke of his skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the sweet release. "Mmhm Mikey don't stop, please!" He wasn't planning to stop anyway, but hearing your strained plea only fuels him further.

The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your thighs tremble around his head, closing in on him. Michael loves this, he loves the feel of your smooth thighs caging him. He fucks you through your orgasm, leaping at the sweet juices leaking out of your pussy. When pleasure fades into overstimulation you shriek away and he pulls back, watching you. Your skin as a nice sheen of sweat glossing over, you chest raises and falls with each shuddering breath.

Michael takes his time crawling over you, wet sloppy kisses adoring your body in his wake. "I love you mama!" He says, brushing your hair back, catching your eyes. His words make you shiver, the weight of them sinking in. "I love you too Michael! I'm the happiest I've ever been!" You say back, sucking in a breath when the head of his cock teases your entrance. "I love you so much angel!" He enters you in one thrust, bottoming you. "Agh!" You moan half in pain, the stretch of him being a little much. "Sorry!" Michael drops his head in the crook of you neck, breathing through his nose to keep calm.

You shake your head, brushing your fingers through his curls. "Move my love!" You beg. A groan vibrates through his chest as his starts moving his hips. Each thrust is the same, deep and absolutely breathtaking. The room is filled with the sweet smell of you and him, the sound of skin slapping dancing around you. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed by his lips, each jerk of his hips stealing the wind out of you. "I can't hold any longer love!" Michael confesses, one of his hands coming down between you to rub your clit. The action causes shivers the pass through you, each nerve lighting up with need. "I'm close, please!" You beg, circling your legs around his waist, holding him as close as possible. His heart thunders against your chest, the thrill of it matching yours.

He starts moving his hips more vigorously, his fingers keeping up with the rhythm. His free hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye, causing you to open your lids to watch him. "Yes, I love you!" Michael lets out, dipping his head down to catch one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. "Mmm daddy!" That does it for the both of you. His orgasm crashing first, his dick twitching inside you, hot spurts of cum coating your velvety walls. Your own release follows, squeezing him tight, milking him of all he's worth.

Michael stills, breathing heavily. Sloppy kisses drape over your shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat on your skin. You sit intertwined for minutes, feeling him go soft inside, whining when he gets up from the bed. The cold air hits you as soon as the heat of his body leaves you. The combination of both your orgasms leaks out of you, feeling warm against your thighs.

On the verge of falling asleep you feel him wipe you down with a damp washcloth. "You tired y/n?" He asks and you hum nodding with your eyes closed, snuggling into the pillows. "Good, rest, you need it!" One arm stretches over to grab him and drag him into bed with you, but he moves away chuckling. "I'll be right back baby, just taking this back to the bathroom!" You protest but have no choice other than sit and wait.

Michael moves fast, dropping the washcloth into the dirty hamper and crawling in bed next to you. He pulls you against his naked body, draping a thin sheet over you. You place your ear above his heart. One of his big hands rests on your belly, his thumb drawing circles over your plush skin.

Morning comes sooner than you'd like, the sun rays creeping through the curtains, stirring you awake. Your hand reaches over to the other side of the bed, no longer feeling the flaming temperature of Michael's body. Disappointment settles in when your fingers are met with the cold sheets, meaning he's been gone a while. You listen closely hoping to hear him humming in the shower but you don't.

Getting out of bed you walk over to the en-suite, washing your face and brushing your teeth. A huge white shirt drapes over your shoulders paired with some cotton shorts as you make your way downstairs. The house is dead quiet, that only further upsets you, it means Michael is not home anymore. Rounding the corner and entering the kitchen you stand in the doorway, the place looks a bit too untouched, like somebody spend time to clean. In the corner of your eye, through the glass doors you catch a glimpse of something.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest and you feel like you can't breathe. Slowly you make your way onto the patio. On the round table breakfast for two sits waiting. Steaming cups of coffee and fluffy pancakes, fruits and toast, all your favorites. In the middle of it all, Michael arranges a few sunflowers in a vase using his perfectionist eye to make sure they sit just right. He hears you coming, looking up at you smiling ear to ear. "Oh my, Michael this is so sweet, but honey what about the studio, shouldn't you be there already?" You ask confused, walking up to him.

He comes to stand before you, shaking his head. Catching both of your hands in his significantly bigger ones he looks nervous, a bead of sweat traveling along his brow. "Y/n, if I tell you something, do you promise not to get mad, or panic?" He asks licking his lips. Fear settles into your bones. Your brain going into overdrive, what if he changed his mind about the baby? What if he breaks up with you?

"I can hear you thinking!" He jokes and you let out a nervous laugh. "No you can't!" You voice is shaking and you are on the verge of tears. Michael won't let you catch his eyes, looking down at your hands. "I can, I can because you are my soulmate!" Your breath catches and you gasp. "You are my savior, my best friend, my everything, the mother of my future child." He kneels in front of you, hands resting on your hips. Your hands fall to his shoulders and you look down at him, the picture of him down in both knees looking distorted through teary eyes. Silence follows, Michael just sits there, resting his forehead against your lower stomach. His shoulders shake as he sucks in a breath. "I've been keeping this with me since Christmas." He reaches the chest pocket of his shirt, grabbing something small out of there and fiddling with it.

"I was scared to ask, but I knew I wanted to ask, there has never been anyone like you for me." Realization settles into for you. Michael places a kiss over the shirt against your belly. He looks up at you, brows scrunching together when he sees your tear stained face. You cup his face, giving him a slight nod to keep going. That little gesture gives him some courage to keep going. "Y/n I usually have a way with words, but I've been going over this moment a million times and not once have I managed to perfect it. And last night holding you in my arms, feeling the weight of you on top of me, I had a dream, a dream a had a long time ago. When I woke up, that dream seemed closer than ever so I knew I had to make everything in my power to make it happen. I've been carrying this ring with me." He stands up, bringing the jewelry closer to your eyes for you to inspect.

It's you embodied in a piece of jewelry, a simple gold band with two pear shaped stones, a light blue one, the color of summer skies, his favorite and a dark red ruby, your favorite. "Michael!" You gasp, taking the ring in your hands, instinctively placing it of your ring finger, where it fits perfectly. "Will you be my wife y/n?" Michael asks, holding his breath. "Yes!" The decision in your voice rests his nerves and the you pause a second looking at him. "Yes?" He asks, almost like he can't believe it. You nod, breaking down crying, throwing your hands around his neck. Your lips crash against his and he holds you like he might die if he lets go. "I love you sunflower!" He mumbles against your lips, sniffing. He's crying too. "I love you too! Now let's eat some pancakes I'm starving!" You drag him over to the table, wiping away your tears.

Sitting down you take one more look at the ring, the shine of it catching your eye. "You like it?" Michael asks watching you move your hand in the sun. "It's perfect, did you make it?" You eat some of the food, looking at him blush. "I drew it, I wanted it to be a piece of both of us." He whispers, pushing some strawberries into your plate. "You need vitamins, I've read about it on the internet this morning!"

"You used the computer?" You gasp joking, making him laugh hiding his face in his hand. "I did!"

"What else did you read?" You ask, cutting up some toast for the two of you to share. "I ordered some books they should be here today or tomorrow, babies are a lot apparently." He says in disbelief. Your heart is filled with joy and you brush a loose curl behind his ear. "Mmm that's what I hear too, but I'm sure we'll be fine, I have you to help me!"

"And I have you!" Michael kisses the back of your hand, pulling your chair closer to him so he can lean over and brush his lips against your cheek. "Yes you do!" You assure him, your hand coming to rest on top of his over your belly. Peace has never felt closer than this.

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Micheal Jackson's Father Joe In Brazil Hospital After Stroke

Micheal Jackson’s Father Joe In Brazil Hospital After Stroke

Michael Jackson’s father Joe is in hospital in Brazil after suffering a stroke.

The Albert Einstein hospital in Sao Paolo issued a statement saying that the patriarch of the musical family was admitted to its intensive care unit on Sunday afternoon.

It also said he was suffering from an irregular heartbeat but gave no further details and did not say what condition he was in.

Mr Jackson is in the…

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