°🍎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ms. Applehead

౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ

"Why are you putting bows on her head at this time of night, Marlon?" you ask. “That’s the least of our worries!”

“But, she looks so adorable with them on!” Marlon defends .

“She has no hair!” you exclaim. “And, it’s bed time,”

You and Marlon have been parents for the past seven months. You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who is identical to her father. She has Marlon’s plumps lips and big eyes. And even though she’s still young, you can tell that she’s taking after Marlon’s goofy side.

She already has you and Marlon wrapped around her tiny finger too. Any time you hear her cry, it breaks your heart. But sometimes, you just lay her back down into the crib until it stops. That's one of those nights.

“I’m so exhausted,” Marlon mumbles, swaying back and forth.

"How do you think I feel?" you ask. "She's been crying for the past thirty minutes!"

"I don't understand," he starts. "We bathed her, changed her diaper, fed her, we even put on her favorite song." The favorite song, of course, being a vinyl of rain noises.

"Maybe her bow is too tight!" Marlon suggest. "Marlon, if you touch my baby's hair one more time." you threaten. "What! That's probably the problem." he says. "I know we shouldn't be doing this all the time, but let's just turn the lights off and-," you explain.

"Nope!" he cuts you off. "Marlon..." you try. "Sunshine, imagine being in her position," he says.

"I am not about to do this," you roll your eyes.

You kiss your baby girl on the forehead while she cries more, reaching her arms out to you. Then you kiss your husband on the cheek. "Have fun, pretty boy,"

You skip out of the room and into yours.

“My bed!!” you exclaim. You reach for your bonnet on the night stand and put it on. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper to the comforter.

You turn off the lights and settle underneath the covers. For once, you are in bed before 9:30pm. You’re dozing off into a sleep but you feel the door open and the spot next to you sink.

“Sunshine,” you hear Marlon whisper.

“Yes?” you answer.

“She’s still crying,” he says. You flip onto your side.

“I’m going to bed, she’s just feeling a little cranky,” you explain.

“I feel bad” Marlon whispers.

“She won’t remember it 10 years from now,” you say.

“Should we get a nanny for Wednesday?” Marlon asks.

“Nah, let’s just leave her in the crib alone while we’re states away!” You sarcastically answer.

“Baby.” Marlon says.

“You and your obvious questions,” you turn back on to your back. .

He rolls his eyes and pinches your arm.

“Ouch!” you squeal.

“You’ve been mean today,” he says.

“Just a little cranky not mean,” you correct.

“I swear where our daughter gets it from,” Marlon says under his breath, now knowing that you’d hear him.

You lift your head and glare at him. His eyes meet yours in fear.

“I know, I know,” he says. He stands up from the bed and starts to leave the room.

“Actually, that’s not couch worthy, you can come back,” you say.

Extra:

“Wait, wait, y’all let your ladies tell you when to go sleep on the couch?” Jackie asks.

“Yes,” Tito, Jermaine, and Marlon answer in sync.

“But don’t you pay for the house and all the furniture?” Jackie questions, turning over to Marlon.

“Yes,” Marlon answers.

“Didn’t you pay for that bed?” Jackie asks.

“Yes,” he answers again.

Jackie tilts his head in confusion.

“My wife scares me,” Marlon whispers. “After she had the baby, she’s been running a tight ship,”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asks.

“I think I’m replaceable?” Marlon suggests.

“Dee Dee tells me the same thing!” Tito laughs.

౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ

౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ

“I could puke” you groan.

“What’s wrong?” Jackie quickly asks, like clockwork, he’s right at your side.

“My insides are eating… my insides?” you complain, you clutch your stomach.

“Your insides are eating your insides?” he asks confused.

“I feel like I’m dying,” you roll over onto your stomach and scream into the pillow. You’re beyond frustrated and your body clearly isn’t in a good mood today.

“Period?” he asks.

“Yes,” you mumble, face still in the pillow.

“I’ll go get your medicine,” Jackie softly says, he rubs your back and heads towards the medicine cabinet.

You force yourself to sit up from your spot. He hands you the medicine bottle but you fail at opening it. You hand it back and he twists it open with ease.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” you say. He laughs and passes over three pills. “Thank you, baby,”

You throw the pills in your mouth and drink the water on the night stand.

“I feel disgusting,” you say, staring at the wall.

“You’ll be fine,” he says. “I almost went to medical school, you know?”

“You watched five episodes of general hospital,” you groan. Clutching your stomach from the sharp pain.

“I’m going to nurse you back to health!” Jackie shouts. He runs out the room.

You look over towards the night stand where stacks of magazines lay.

“I wonder if one of these have a step by step tutorial on how to carve my pain out,” you think.

30 minutes later, Jackie walks back into the room with a bowl of soup. He hands it over to you.

“Awwww, Jackie!” you squeal. You place the bowl in your lap.

“Eat up, then rest,” he grins.

You eat your soup while Jackie cracks jokes on you so you can laugh. Occasionally, you will continue to feel cramps and when you do, Jackie would rub your back.

After an hour later, you start to feel nauseous.

“I’m going to puke again,” you whisper to Jackie. He starts to help you out of the bed but you begin to stumble.

Your vision goes in and out and you fall back.

“Y/N?!” you hear.

———

You wake up in the middle of the queen sized bed. There’s an ice pack underneath a towel on your forehead and a tight grip on your hand.

“You’re awake!” Jackie says.

You slowly lift your hand to wipe your eye.

“Be careful!” he quickly says. “If you need anything, I can do it for you.”

You point your vision towards him.

“Wipe my eye,” you sarcastically say. But he does wipe your eye. “What happened?” you ask.

“You fainted. But, you’re fine now! I cracked open a book and it just said you were dehydrated or tired,” Jackie explains.

You smile.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Always,” he answers. He moves over the ice pack and kisses your forehead.

౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ ——-౨ৎ

by the time you turned eighteen, you cut her off entirely. you didn't want to give her another chance to ever disappoint you again, and you thoroughly meant it.

now that you were grown and generating a little buzz with your own girl group, diana had suddenly started calling. she was constantly asking to set up times to meet and offering for you to come meet your new siblings. you denied her every single time, of course. you were perfectly fine with not seeing her again because you had already made your peace with the past. that was until you and your group were invited to perform your number one song off your new album at a major award show.

all the biggest names in the industry were going to be there, so you knew diana would be in attendance too. you couldn't decline the invitation because it simply wasn't fair to the rest of your group, and you really needed the exposure. so, you sighed and said yes.

when diana heard you were performing, she attempted to contact you once more—this time through your father, wondering if you would want to do a duet on stage or something. you declined immediately. absolutely not. you would never give her the satisfaction.

michael hadn't planned on going to that particular award show either. he had more than enough going on in his life at the moment. the media was slandering his name in all kinds of ways, spreading false narratives and ridiculous rumors, claiming he hated himself, and saying everything terrible under the sun. it was completely exhausting for him.

you had seen the articles yourself, and you felt incredibly bad for him. you believed that even though he was a major celebrity, people still had a right to keep parts of their lives private. the way everyone dehumanized him was entirely unfair. but since he was being honored with a special award that night, his team advised that it would be in his best interest to go. reluctantly, he showed up.

when you first made eyes with him on the red carpet, you were in complete shock. everyone around you was starstruck as well. when your eyes met, it felt like he was staring straight into your soul from across the crowded carpet. the only thought you could muster up in that moment was how gorgeous he truly was.

feeling overwhelmed, you shyly turned your head and faced the other way to continue talking to your friends. that was when michael really got a chance to admire how beautiful you were from afar. "who is that?" he thought to himself, completely captivated. later, after being directed to his seat in the very front row, he finally found out your name, but what he didn't know was that you were diana ross' daughter.

soon enough, the opening notes to your hit song began to play, you walked out onto the stage and began to sing. the funny thing was, you actually hated this song. you didn't believe a single word you were singing because you thought it put out the wrong message about settling for less in relationships. yet, you sang it so beautifully and put so much emotion into it that the track had made it all the way to the top of the billboard charts.

the writers didn't care about your complaints, the label didn't care, and the audience damn sure didn't care because of how loudly they were reacting. they were singing the song nearly word for word, clapping along with the beat.

watching from the front row, michael was completely infatuated with you. you had a beautiful voice and an even more beautiful smile. he decided right then and there that he wanted to know you.

right after your set finished, the stage producers rushed over and told you that you and your group would be the ones presenting michael jackson with his award.

your heart was in your ass, to say the least. you couldn't believe this was happening. but before you could panic, you were walking back out, reading the cue cards you were given, then handing the heavy trophy over to him.

your hands brushed against each other lightly, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. he smiled warmly and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, which completely took you by surprise.

"thank you, beautiful," he whispered near your ear before stepping up to the mic for his acceptance speech.

you and your girls exchanged wide-eyed looks as you walked off the stage. "do you know him?" one of them whispered.

"no i don't, i swear!" you responded, your heart racing. but little did you know, your mother was waiting right in the wings for you.

"hi baby! how are you! you did wonderful! i’m so proud of you, my gosh! you definitely get it from your mother," diana said loudly, wearing a proud smile for anyone watching.

"hello diana. please excuse me," you said coldly, walking right past her toward your dressing room. she was absolutely not about to ruin your performance high.

when michael finally left the stage, his mind was still completely occupied by you. he wanted to know everything about you—what you liked, what you didn't like, where you were from, and even what you looked like when you woke up in the mornings. he wanted you bad. but he couldn't seem to find you anywhere for the rest of the night. so, he did the next best thing. he wrote you a quick note and had it delivered directly to your hotel room.

when you got back to your room and unpacked your things, there was a knock at the door. you opened it to find the concierge handing you a note.

we don’t know much about each other but i would love the chance to take you out and get to know you, michael.

his personal phone number written right at the bottom.

you staring at it, thinking this had to be a joke or a sick prank. that was until you actually dialed the number. the phone only rang twice before a soft, familiar voice answered on the other end.

"hello?"

your breath hitched in your throat. you had spent the last hour convincing yourself that one of your group members or a prankster from the label had somehow slipped that note into your bag. but hearing that unmistakable, gentle tone made your stomach do a complete backflip.

"hi," you whispered, suddenly feeling very small in your massive hotel bed. "is this... michael?"

"yes, it is," he replied, and you could practically hear the warm smile in his voice. "i’m so glad you called. i was hoping you would. you were absolutely incredible tonight. i couldn't take my eyes off you."

your cheeks burned hot. just hours ago, you were on that massive stage, trying your best to ignore the fact that you hated the very lyrics coming out of your mouth, while trying to dodge your mother's sudden, manipulative burst of affection backstage. you hadn't even fully processed the sheer weight of what happened afterward.

"thank you," you said softly. "you looked really nice as well."

michael softly blushed on the other end of the call, clearly pleased. the two of you continued to talk for a while, losing track of time, before he finally asked if he could come pick you up. you agreed. you spent the next hour getting ready, picking out a nice outfit, and then you were gone. michael and his security guard, bill, picked you up in a sleek car and drove you to one of the best, most private restaurants in new york.

after a wonderful dinner where the conversation just seem to flow so easily, he took you to a nice luxury boutique that he had completely shut down just for you, telling you to pick out anything you wanted. you were reluctant at first, but after his gentle insistence, you accepted a few things.

afterward, you ended up back at the hotel, standing out on the balcony watching the people, the flashing lights, and the beautiful city skyline. the night ended with a very small, gentle kiss goodnight. it wasn't too much, and it wasn't too intimate, but it was incredibly sweet.

by the next morning, the headlines were absolutely crazy. you and michael’s faces were plastered everywhere. the sun barely had a chance to peek through the curtains of your hotel room before your phone started ringing off the receiver.

you groaned, rubbing your eyes and reaching for it, thinking it was just your group members wanting to obsess over the night before. then you saw the morning paper that had been slipped under your door. there were clear pictures of you and michael from your night out.

one was of him holding the door open for you outside the restaurant, another was a blurry but obvious shot of the two of you laughing inside the boutique, and the biggest one was a photo of that sweet, gentle goodnight kiss outside your room. the headlines were completely wild, calling you "michael's secret romance" and asking where this mystery girl had come from.

and before you could even process how fast the media worked, the phone started ringing again. this time, it wasn't a random number or your friends. it was your dad.

"hey, dad," you answered, your voice a little shaky from all the sudden chaos.

"honey, are you okay?" he asked immediately, sounding deeply worried. "i'm guessing you haven't seen the papers yet, but that's not even why i'm calling. your mother just called me screaming her head off."

you sighed heavily, leaning your head back against your pillows. of course she did. "what did diana want now?"

"she's furious," your dad said gently, trying to calm you down. "she saw pictures of you and michael. then she was yelling about how you ignored her backstage but had time to go out with one of her closest friends. she thinks you did this on purpose to hurt her or use her name to get close to him. she's in a total jealous rage, honey."

it completely made sense to you. diana always loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to major stars like michael. the fact that her estranged daughter—the one she had ignored for years—was now the main topic of conversation next to the biggest star in the world was eating her alive. she couldn't stand that she wasn't the star of the narrative.

"i don't care what she thinks," you told your dad honestly, looking out at the city view. and that was the absolute truth.

"i know she wasn’t a great mother to you, but maybe this is a chance to finally put things behind the two of you," your dad said over the line, "people change. maybe you should try to reconcile."

you scrunched your nose, completely disagreeing. you knew diana, and this wasn't about maternal love—it was about control. before you could even start explaining that to him, your phone gave a sharp beep, signaling a waiting call. you pulled it away from your ear to check the screen.

"hold on father, i’m getting another call," you said.

you clicked over, pressing the phone back to your ear. before you could even say hello, that familiar, soft voice came through the receiver, sounding incredibly stressed.

“hello?”

“hi michael”

"i’m so sorry for all of the drama," he said quickly, voice laced with genuine guilt. "i should’ve been more careful. i never wanted to put you in the middle of all this media mess."

hearing how worried he was instantly softened your posture. after everything you'd read about how the press treated him, you realized he was probably terrified that he had ruined things with you.

"it’s okay, michael. i’m not upset with you," you assured him, keeping your voice calm and steady. "the press is going to do what they do. you don't have to apologize."

you could hear him let out a quiet, relieved sigh on the other end. "thank you," he murmured. he paused for a brief moment, the tone of the conversation shifting into something much warmer. "i really enjoyed the time that we of you shared last night. i'd love to see you again."

a small smile tugged at your lips, the drama of the morning momentarily fading away. "i'd love that too," you agreed softly. "i'm leaving the city today, but i'll let you know whenever i'm back in town."

"i'll hold you to that," he replied, a hint of that sweet smile returning to his voice. "have a safe trip."

after a few more quiet words, you hung up the phone and tossed it onto the mattress. you let out a long, heavy sigh, staring up at the hotel ceiling. your dad was still waiting on the other line, but honestly, he was the least of your worries right now.

you knew your phone was about to start blowing up all over again, and you still had to hear your manager’s mouth about this entire incident the second you walked down to the lobby.

an entire month later, and you and michael’s schedules had been completely conflicting. michael was buried in tour prep and grueling dance rehearsals, while you were constantly in and out of the studio recording new tracks and campaign shoots. but despite the distance, nothing faded or fizzled out. you two talked on the phone nearly every single night.

during one of those late-night conversations, he asked you about your upbringing. you told him that it had just been you and your dad growing up and he opened up about what it was like for him to grow up with such a big family in the spotlight.

you felt a small twinge of guilt for not mentioning diana, but to be fair, you figured that it was public information, if he wanted to find it he could’ve. besides, you didn't consider her a mother in the first place, so why bring negative energy into your safe space?

one night, you were sitting on your bed, carefully painting your toes while waiting for michael’s call. when it finally rang, you picked it up with a smile, but the smile quickly dropped. michael sounded completely distraught.

"michael, what’s the matter?" you asked, setting the nail polish bottle down.

"are you really diana’s daughter?" he blurted out, his voice heavy with confusion and hurt.

you sighed, your heart sinking slightly. "yes, but—"

"and you didn’t think to tell me this?" he interrupted, sounding breathless.

"honestly, michael, no. i didn’t," you responded truthfully, keeping your voice steady. "because it doesn’t matter to me."

"well, it matters to me—"

"and why is that?" you countered.

he sighed, "because diana is a friend of mine."

you rolled your eyes hard, a sudden wave of irritation washing over you. "are you sure that’s all she is to you?"

"what are you trying to say?" he asked, his tone turning defensive.

you took a deep breath before responding, trying to ground yourself. "michael, i could care less about diana. i like you. regardless of your ‘friendship’," you said, crossing your legs. "in my eyes, she isn't my mother. she couldn’t even tell you my favorite color if you asked her. please. don’t let her ruin a good thing between us."

there was a long, painful silence on the other end of the line. you could hear him breathing, processing everything.

"i understand that, lovey," he finally said, his voice dropping to a soft, troubled whisper. "i just... i need some time."

and with that, the call ended.

you slowly lowered the phone from your ear, staring at the phone in absolute disbelief. a pit of anger and hurt formed in your stomach. you couldn't believe that diana was truly that evil, that she would reach out to michael and use her relationship with him just to sabotage your happiness. her own daughter.

the anger burning in your chest was too much to ignore. before you could talk yourself out of it, you found her number and hit dial. the line didn't even ring three times before she picked up.

"hello?" her smooth, practiced voice echoed through the speaker.

"diana, stay out of my life," you snapped.

there was a sharp pause on the other end. she immediately recognized who you were from your hostile tone, but she quickly masked her surprise with that airy, fake ass tone she always used. "you’re my daughter. why would you ever want that?"

"because you’re a poor excuse for a mother," you spat back, not holding a single thing. you were done playing nice.

diana let out a dry chuckle. "is this about michael? dear, you do know he’s been in love with me for years, right?"

the sheer malice and jealousy in her voice made your blood run cold, but you refused to let her see how much it stung. "i don’t care," you told her, your voice dropping to a deadly, quiet calm. "he could’ve been in love with the pope. i meant what i said, stay out of my life. what i do doesn’t concern you. you lost that right a long time ago."

before she could even attempt to weave another lie, you slammed the phone back onto the receiver, cutting her off completely.

the moment the line went dead, the walls felt like they were crashing in on you. you grabbed the nearest pillow, pressed your face deep into the fabric, and screamed at the top of your lungs. you were so damn frustrated.

she had ignored you your entire life, and now that you were finally building something for yourself—both in your career and with a man you actually cared about—she just couldn't sit back and let you be happy.

your lovely boyfriend, Jermaine who likes to eat.

yeah.

that’s it.

all he does is eat when he gets to your house.

it was one of those days where you were just chillin at home. you watched tv while painting your nails. you had a movie on while painting your toes a light pink.

you had a whole bunch of snacks with you since you didn’t know which one you wanted and you didn’t wanna go back up if you wanted a different snack so you just brought them all to the couch.

you got a call on the telephone, you didn’t feel like getting up at all, so you let it ring.

they kept calling though, it was about 5 calls later until you sighed and walked weirdly so that your painted toes wouldn’t get smudged.

you picked up the phone, “hello?”

“Hey, mama.”

you softened up immediately after you knew it was your boyfriend calling.

“Why you ain’t answer the phone?” he asked.

“Cause I’m painting my toes and didn’t want them to get messed up.” you replied.

“Mm, mkay. You doing anything else after that?”

“Nah, not really, why?”

“I have an off day today. We all did pretty good during rehearsal so Joseph let us have a free day. Maybe he getting pussy tonight, I don’t know. He been extra nice lately.” he told you.

“Ah, you better enjoy it while you still can, cause after that ends, you gon’ be missing it.” you say, chuckling a little.

“Yeah, whatever. Can I come over, mama?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure! You got my spare key, right?”

“Sure do. I’ll be over there soon.” then he hung up. desperate much.

you made sure to grab yall some snacks. you grabbed twinkies, zebra cakes, oatmeal pies, swiss rolls and the little cupcakes with the white inside and the swirly icing on top.

you put the snacks in a bowl and then hide the boxes and lock them up because he would’ve took them if you didn’t. he has a history of doing that.

not even 15 minutes later he opened the door. when he saw you, he ran to you and kissed you. “Hi baby” he said laying on your chest now.

“Hi, my love.” you said kissing his forehead and patting his afro.

when he started settling into you, he heard plastic rattling. he sat up and saw the bowl full of snacks.

“Are these for us?” he asked you. you nodded.

“Awww. I should really just lay you on the mattress and fu—” “Shut up, Jermaine, anyway pick what you want.” you cut him off.

“Well, I kinda want them all.” he took the bowl and sat on the other side of the couch.

“Do you not get fed at home?” you asked him.

“I do”

“So why you keep taking my food?”

“Well you offered them to me, ma.”

“WELL I DIDNT TELL YOU TAKE THEM ALL.” you said as you launched yourself over there trying to take the bowl.

he got up and ran around the house, so you got up and started chasing him.

after a good 5 minutes you got tired and gave up, you sat back on the couch and laid down, tiredly.

Jermaine came back and opened up the cupcake, he put it in your hand.

“ ‘m sorry mama, they yours anyway.” he put the bowl down and flipped you over so that you laid on top of him.

“Love you, baby.” he said, pecking your lips many times.

“You love me or you just love my snacks?” you questioned.

“Both.”

you slapped him arm, hard.

“OUCH! No only you baby. Damn you be hittin’ hard, ma.”

“Cause you deserve it.”

he cupped your ass and kissed you. “Do I still deserve it now?”

“Yes.”