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dress — mj x popstar!reader

——

content: inspired by taylor swift’s dress (all credits to her! this is made just for fun <3)

warnings: angst, reader is a global icon, reader is also inspired by taylor swift during reputation era. mentions of anxiety, pain, and panic. let’s js pretend social media was already a thing during the 90s LMAO

author’s note: this is my first time writing after SOOOOO MANY YEAAAARS so pUHLEAAASEE BE KIND … 🥹 lmk if this should have a part 2 or what …

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

King of Pop, Michael Jackson. That was his title. Michael had fans all over the world, yet he stayed very humble. That made him even more famous. His kindness, understanding, and love for people and his work made him a living legend, which was his reputation.

After forging his path, he was dedicated to spreading his mission— to spread love through his music because he believes that music brings people together. Love was his message.

He was the man who sold out stadiums, broke records, and inspired generations. Wherever he went, crowds followed. Millions knew his name, his songs, and his signature moonwalk.

But behind the fame was simply Michael.

A man who loved creating music in the middle of the night. A man who found joy in making people smile. A man who believed that kindness cost nothing yet meant everything.

Despite being admired by millions, Michael was no stranger to loneliness. Fame came with a price. Every move he made became a headline. Every word he spoke was analyzed. The world knew Michael Jackson, but very few knew Michael the person.

And there’s Y/N.

Y/N has already established her name in the industry. From being a countryside singer to a global icon. Her songs always top the Billboard 100, winning multiple grammy’s, sold out shows, every singer's dream, she has it. Their fantasy is Y/N’s reality. She is young and passionate. But her life is not always glitz and glam. She has to pay for the fame she has right now.

In this industry, being unliked is not new. Well, not everyone would love your music, right? But for Y/N, it’s different. Some people love her music, some people don’t— or they just don’t really like her. Headlines, controversies, and scandals were linked to her.

“Y/N, the Global Icon was seen in public with a new guy after her break up!”

People talked about her as if she were not real anymore. As if the girl beneath the headlines is deceased and is someone they could just criticize. She was linked to a lot of guys; some were true, the majority were rumors. Rumors her so-called friends made to bring her down. It was unfair. So unfair.

She was criticized for writing many songs for her ex-boyfriends. Every song she releases is like a game for the public, guessing whose ex-boyfriend this new song is dedicated to. She became a joke, a laughing stock, and was labeled as a snake.

“Have you heard Y/N’s new song? I bet it’s about her new boyfriend again!”

“Every song she writes is about her ex-boyfriend. No wonder no guy stays with her!”

“She deserve every hate she gets, to be honest”

Every word thrown was like a knife, sharp, deadly. Y/N would be lying if she says it’s not affecting her; because it does. She might say she doesn’t care but deep down, it hurts her. Y/N couldn’t understand why people hate her, is it because of her music? her face? or they just really loathe her as a person?

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the television in the background.

Y/N sat on the floor of her bedroom, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She knew she should stop reading the comments. She knew she should put the phone down and walk away.

Yet she couldn’t. One comment became ten. Ten became a hundred.

Snake.

Attention seeker.

Slut.

Manipulator.

Each word blurred together until she could no longer tell where one ended and another began. Her eyes drifted toward the mirror across the room. For a moment, she stared at her reflection.

The same face that appeared on magazine covers. The same face that thousands of fans screamed for every night. The same face people seemed to hate so much.

Slowly, she stood and walked toward the mirror.

“Am I really the problem?” she whispered.

The question lingered in the empty room.

No answer came.

Only silence.

Y/N let out a shaky laugh and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Y/N was currently on her couch, rotting while eating a tub of ice cream. She was watching her comfort show, when her phone suddenly rang, it was Pam, her manager.

“Hey, what’s up?” she lazily answered.

“Uh, don’t what’s up me girl, i’m your manager” Y/N laughed with the sassiness of her tone. “You’re invited to a charity gala”

“Yeah right, they haven’t seen those nasty tweets and scandals about me, yeah?”

“They have, and they don’t believe a single thing about it” Y/N wanted to believe. Believe that people still see her as a good person, but with all the lies she sees on the internet? It was hard.

“Whatever. I’m not going.”

“You are, Y/N. I already contacted brands for your attire”

“Why should I? the media would just eat me alive and ask some stupid questions”

“Y/N, the media may hate you, but your fans don’t. Do this for the people who love and support you. Plus, who cares? Fuck the media. We both know the truth.” Her manager spoke, “Plus, this is the best time to clean your slate. Show the motherfucking world who the hell Y/N Y/L/N is”

She can’t help but to smile. Her manager is right, a lot of people still support her despite the scandals and controversies. It’s killing her, having to show up in front of dozens and dozens of journalists and photographers. The flashing, the uncomfortable questions, and the worst part, the judging stares.

But she will still do it, she’s gonna show everyone that she is not who the people and the media dictate who she is.

Charity Gala Day arrived. She was inside the limousine for the last 10 minutes, anxiety creeping her whole body. She was wearing the famous Chanel Black Chain Dress. It fit her like a glove, matching with her gold accessories and black high heels.

She was inside the limo, panicking, overthinking what the reporters would ask her and how the people would look at her. She was breathing heavily, cold sweats dropping from her forehead.

“Pam, I really can’t… I’m so afraid of what the media would say to me…” She said, hyperventilating.

“Y/N, look at me.” She forced her eyes on Pam.

“You’ve already performed in front of people. Thousands of people, to be exact.”

“T-That’s different…”

“How?”

“W-Well… They loved me…”

Pam, her manager’s gaze softened. She can feel Y/N’s pain and anxiety. She has been Y/N’s manager for years but this is the first time she saw her really break down.

“Then think about the people who love you. Think about the people who believe in you. The ones who streamed your songs, bought tickets to your shows, and the ones who defended your name when you couldn’t.”

Y/N swallowed hard. Pam held her chin and made her look at her in the eyes,

“You are not your rumors. You are not the headlines. And most definitely, you are not those idiots spreading fake news about you. They are just jealous because you’re talented, amazing, and beautiful.”

Y/N smiled. A genuine smile.

“Now, go in there, and remind us, who the fuck is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Pam’s words really did encourage her. She took one last deep breath and nodded. She’s going to face the cameras, and prove that no one can bring her down. The chauffeur opened the limo, and immediately, the cameras exploded in front of her.

“Y/N, over here!”

“Y/N smile for me, darling!”

“Are the headlines true?! Who’s your new man?!”

“Any comments about your scandals?”

Her chest tightened. The noise was overwhelming her. Questions being thrown at her from every direction. Some are harmless, some are harsh.

She kept her head up and smiled brightly, not stopping from walking.

“Just smile and wave, Y/N” she told herself.

She smiled so brightly, the cameras didn’t notice she was pretending. Then suddenly, the crowd became louder.

Not because of her, but because someone just arrived. The reporters rushed towards the entrance, the photographers turned their cameras away from her, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t the center of all attention.

She let out a big sigh, glad that the attention is not on her anymore, yet curious, so she turned her head to see who’s coming.

It was none other than Michael Jackson.

The crowd surrounded him, yet he carried himself with effortless calmness. He smiled and waved at every reporter and photographer, greeting them with the warmness he was known for.

Y/N was expecting him to walk past her. I mean, who is she besides Michael Jackson? But, she was wrong. As Michael made his way towards the entrance, he noticed her immediately. His glance landed on her softly, as their eyes met. Y/N sensed comfort in his eyes. He was looking at her with kindness.

No assumptions, No judgement. Nothing.

And somehow, that startled her more than the cameras ever could.

— :)

#michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson × y/n #michael jackson x you #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson fan fic #michael jackson angst #inspired by taylor swift #reputation era #popstar reader #first time writing a fic kinda nervous #please be kind #mj fic #michael joseph jackson #applehead

dress — mj x popstar!reader

——

content: inspired by taylor swift’s dress (all credits to her! this is made just for fun <3)

author’s note: this is my first time writing after SOOOOO MANY YEAAAARS so pUHLEAAASEE BE KIND … 🥹 lmk if this should have a part 2 or what …

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

After forging his path, he was dedicated to spreading his mission— to spread love through his music because he believes that music brings people together. Love was his message.

He was the man who sold out stadiums, broke records, and inspired generations. Wherever he went, crowds followed. Millions knew his name, his songs, and his signature moonwalk.

But behind the fame was simply Michael.

A man who loved creating music in the middle of the night. A man who found joy in making people smile. A man who believed that kindness cost nothing yet meant everything.

And there’s Y/N.

“Y/N, the Global Icon was seen in public with a new guy after her break up!”

“Have you heard Y/N’s new song? I bet it’s about her new boyfriend again!”

“Every song she writes is about her ex-boyfriend. No wonder no guy stays with her!”

“She deserve every hate she gets, to be honest”

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the television in the background.

Y/N sat on the floor of her bedroom, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She knew she should stop reading the comments. She knew she should put the phone down and walk away.

Yet she couldn’t. One comment became ten. Ten became a hundred.

Snake.

Attention seeker.

Slut.

Manipulator.

Each word blurred together until she could no longer tell where one ended and another began. Her eyes drifted toward the mirror across the room. For a moment, she stared at her reflection.

The same face that appeared on magazine covers. The same face that thousands of fans screamed for every night. The same face people seemed to hate so much.

Slowly, she stood and walked toward the mirror.

“Am I really the problem?” she whispered.

The question lingered in the empty room.

No answer came.

Only silence.

Y/N let out a shaky laugh and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Y/N was currently on her couch, rotting while eating a tub of ice cream. She was watching her comfort show, when her phone suddenly rang, it was Pam, her manager.

“Hey, what’s up?” she lazily answered.

“Uh, don’t what’s up me girl, i’m your manager” Y/N laughed with the sassiness of her tone. “You’re invited to a charity gala”

“Yeah right, they haven’t seen those nasty tweets and scandals about me, yeah?”

“Whatever. I’m not going.”

“You are, Y/N. I already contacted brands for your attire”

“Why should I? the media would just eat me alive and ask some stupid questions”

But she will still do it, she’s gonna show everyone that she is not who the people and the media dictate who she is.

She was inside the limo, panicking, overthinking what the reporters would ask her and how the people would look at her. She was breathing heavily, cold sweats dropping from her forehead.

“Pam, I really can’t… I’m so afraid of what the media would say to me…” She said, hyperventilating.

“Y/N, look at me.” She forced her eyes on Pam.

“You’ve already performed in front of people. Thousands of people, to be exact.”

“T-That’s different…”

“How?”

“W-Well… They loved me…”

Pam, her manager’s gaze softened. She can feel Y/N’s pain and anxiety. She has been Y/N’s manager for years but this is the first time she saw her really break down.

Y/N swallowed hard. Pam held her chin and made her look at her in the eyes,

Y/N smiled. A genuine smile.

“Now, go in there, and remind us, who the fuck is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N, over here!”

“Y/N smile for me, darling!”

“Are the headlines true?! Who’s your new man?!”

“Any comments about your scandals?”

Her chest tightened. The noise was overwhelming her. Questions being thrown at her from every direction. Some are harmless, some are harsh.

She kept her head up and smiled brightly, not stopping from walking.

“Just smile and wave, Y/N” she told herself.

She smiled so brightly, the cameras didn’t notice she was pretending. Then suddenly, the crowd became louder.

She let out a big sigh, glad that the attention is not on her anymore, yet curious, so she turned her head to see who’s coming.

It was none other than Michael Jackson.

The crowd surrounded him, yet he carried himself with effortless calmness. He smiled and waved at every reporter and photographer, greeting them with the warmness he was known for.

No assumptions, No judgement. Nothing.

And somehow, that startled her more than the cameras ever could.

— :)

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