Honey

The reasons are

1.Some fics never end the way I was hoping

2.Sometimes all I want is angst/fluff

3.I like writing

Let’s get this party started

Dad!Michael Jackson

Attitude - daughter!reader talks back to paparazzi

Brother!Michael Jackson

Uncle!Michael Jackson

Heartslabyul

Riddle Risehearts

Trey Clover

Cater Diamond

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Ruggie Bucchi

Jack Howl

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore

Vil Schönheit

Rook Hunt

Epel Felmier

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Lilia Vanrouge

Silver Vanrouge

Summary: reader is Michael Jackson’s daughter, but becam worked for her fame, and she doesn’t put up with rude paparazzi/press.

A/n: age between Paris and Bigi (for age reference). This is my first official fic, reader’s attitude is lowkey inspired my Chappell Roan, reader is a singer

Wc:827

Michael loves all four of his kids. There has never been a dull moment with them, and he couldn’t have asked for better children.

However, he does have a special place in his heart for both his daughters, Paris and Reader. Both daddy girls since they were born.

You were nominated for three Grammys, for Album of the Year with your album Golden, Best New Song for the song Stardust, and Artist of the Year. When you originally got the nomination, your father had been more excited than you. Michael has been your number one fan since you started your career.

So you decided what’s the harm in him going with you, which led you to this current conversation.

One day when you both were at home lounging around, you asked, “Dad, do you want to come with me?” Michael looked at you a little unsure. “Are you sure, babe? I don’t want to take away from your night.”

You laughed a little, then comforted him, “Dad, I promise you’re not taking anything away from me. You’ve been my biggest supporter since day one. There isn’t anyone else I’d want there with me.” You could’ve sworn you saw him tearing up at hearing you say that, “Then yes, I’ll go with you.” And that was it, you and your father attending an award show.

—————

You and Michael are on the way to the event, both excited for what the night holds. You in a simple yet elegant gold dress, in honor of the album you’re nominated for, and Michael in a simple suit, that he insisted on wearing so you’d be in the spotlight.

“Nervous?” Michael asked, knowing what it’s like to arrive at these events, and wanted to make sure his daughter is okay.

You have a reputation of talking back to reporters and paparazzi. With a smile, you replied, “Never. I just hope people are respectful tonight. I’m trying to have a good time.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, then both laughed. “You know that’s not going to happen, right?” Michael asked, obviously knowing to answer. You looked out the window, laughed again, “Yeah… I know.”

As you guys get closer to arriving, Michael quickly reaches over and grabs your hand, gives it a gentle squeeze, and gives a reassuring smile, “It’s gonna be okay.”

As you both pull up to the front, you guys smile once again, and you prepare yourself for what the night holds. As you both get out, all you both can see are camera flashes, and in that moment you wished you were like your dad and brought sunglasses.

Michael, aware that the flashing lights could be harmful to your eyesight and that things could become overwhelming quickly, handed you both a pair of glasses. “Here,” he said with a knowing smile, as he handed you the glasses that still matched your outfits.

Putting them on, you both continue down that carpet, posing for pictures, having a great start to the night. You believe you are cursed; almost every run-in with the press and paparazzi, someone always pushes a boundary.

“[Reader]! Michael! Over here!” Someone shouted, but there are too many people yelling for you to be certain where it came from. Both of you having experience with this sort of stuff; pose in different ways. You kept hearing people shouting about wanting to see the back.

As you and your dad are fixing the back of the dress you hear it.

“Move already! We don’t have all night!” Someone shouted. It was like a switch was flipped inside of you, and you couldn’t help it. “Maybe if you gave us a second, instead of acting like a child, we’d be done already.” The person stammered for a response, while others didn’t know where to continue with photos or move on out of fear of being next to feel your wrath.

After that interaction you and your dad slowly but surely continue on down the carpet, until you both finally make it inside. Finally able to take a breath Michael could help but chuckle, “What are you laughing at?” You asked as you were confused see as you both only just made it into the building.

“Girl, you always know how to shut them down, at your age that was something I wasn’t able to do.” Your father explained, “It’s something I’m glad you’re able to do peach.”

You rolled your eyes, not at your dad, but as you contemplated the situation. "They just make me so angry sometimes. I understand that they need to photograph other artists, but getting upset and yelling at us about it is wrong." Your dad responded with a smile, reached for your hand, and said, "I know, babe, but let's not let that ruin tonight. I have a feeling we'll be celebrating with ice cream tonight." With that, you both headed to the hall to find your seats.

In*est

Age play

Gore

R*pe