(Title inspired by the bridge in Heaven Can Wait 🤭)
Off the Wall Era!Michael x Fem!Reader
❥𝒮𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ~ Michael is finally home for a sabbatical during the tour, but something about his has changed, making you remind him just how amazing he is 🖤
❥𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈/𝒞ℴ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓃𝓉 ~ angst, fluff, established relationship, reader comforting Michael, Michael showing low self esteem, playfulness, not fully proofread, (and a little bit of my “I can fix him” complex on display)
❥𝒲ℴ𝓇𝒹 𝒞ℴ𝓊𝓃𝓉 ~ 4.4k (ik im sorry💀)
You had been crashing at Hayvenhurst for a bit, (unbeknownst to Michael, but of course he didn’t mind either way). You had a key after all, and would just come in when you felt like it. His mother didn’t mind. She loved you, and was grateful for your companionship to her gentler son. His father on the other hand… well, let’s say he wasn’t too fond of your place in his life. You were deemed a distraction, and he didn’t like distractions. You ignored his presence nevertheless, being as though you’d love to see him buried 6 feet under, and if he pushed the wrong button, you’d see to it that it happened.
The house was rather empty now, save for Katherine, who always stayed behind while the boys traveled, so you pretty much hid away in Michael’s room. Eventually after much waiting and longing to see the face you have turned to mush for, the Jackson boys return, grateful for a long awaited rest. You were sleeping, so you didn’t take note of their arrival until hours later, when a hooded and glasses wearing Michael sneaks into his room, shutting the door softly. He’s unaware of your presence at first, but once he takes heed of your gentle snores that he adores, he immediately faces the other way, doing his best to stay inconspicuous. He’s beginning to unpack bags so softly you can hear a pin drop, occasionally flinching if he heard you shift in his mattress, scared of his cover being blown, but one zipper was a bit too loud, eventually causing you to fully awake.
With a groan, you stretch your limbs and slowly open your heavy eyes, adjusting to the atmosphere. Once you’re awake, you see Michael’s silhouette in the setting California sun, facing away while he pretends to put something on a shelf.
“You’re back!” You exclaim in a lazy excitement, stretching once more. “I hope it’s okay that I crashed here.. just missed you and wanted to feel close” You follow.
He nods softly, still not turning to you, and replies. “Yeah… we’re on a break right now since we have a stop nearby.” His voice is calm, but it’s false. His heart is racing inside. “You can stay anytime you’d like.. and I'm glad you did, I missed you too” he finishes, moving around the room and avoiding your gaze. At this point, you can sense that something is off. He seems distant, but you can’t place it.
“Mikey..?” your voice laced with concern, “are you okay?? you seem off.. Did Joe do something?” Michael’s shoulders tense as you start to conjure the explanation, ultimately to no avail.
He doesn’t answer, just shaking his head no and continuing to fake a task. “Then why won’t you look at me.. I haven’t seen you in weeks…” A hurt is laced in your voice, and he exhales shakily, but still no response. A bubbling frustration forces you to rise from the bed, walking towards him. He hears you and freezes in your gaze, head bowing as if he feels shame.
“Michael, look at me…” You try your best to stay calm, but the curdling anger is laced in your command. Michael sighs in defeat and slowly turns, head still lowered. Then you see it. The bandages wrapped around an obviously thinner nose, bruising peaking out the uncovered skin. “Mike…” You start, hand slowly raising to your mouth in shock and slight disbelief. “What.. what did you do..?” Your voice is gentler, but still kissed with concern, stepping closer to examine the procedure.
He seems embarrassed, shy… and hesitates for a moment. “I… well I got into an accident at dance rehearsal so I had to go get it fixed…” he started.. his fingers fidgeting with each other while he tried to hold your gaze though his shades.
Before he could finish his explanation, your hands are reaching for his glasses, pulling them off with the most featherlight touch, revealing more bruising at his under eye.. “Oh Mikey.. what did you do..?” you whisper, brain trying to wrap around what you are seeing.
“Well I.. i figured since I have to get it fixed, why not get a nose job.. make my nose a little smaller…” he confesses, eyes finally meeting yours like a puppy who is accepting its scolding. “It’s.. nothing crazy they just…. didn’t make my nose look so big anymore.” He shrugs it off like it’s just a small issue he has, knowing it is so much more for him.
You just stare, still trying to possibly understand why. “Michael why… why would you want to make your nose smaller..?” Genuine concern and confusion is evident in your tone and demeanor as your head tilts to the side. “Your nose is beautiful, why would you want to even-“ but you stop yourself. You know exactly what.. well exactly who placed these ideas in his head, so you force yourself into a deep breath, and continue to listen.
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Was just.. too big I guess.” He admits half heartedly, and leaves it there. “It’s no big deal… let’s just leave it alone ok?” He takes a deep sigh and reaches for his glasses out of your hands, making your eyes land there for a second before following his movement. “I missed my girl..” His voice floats in the air like a kiss, gently landing in your ears. “Cmere..” He grabs your hands and attempts to pull you forward, but you sort of hesitate, making his hold loosen and his eyes drop in defeat..
“Sorry.. sorry i’m just.. out of it you know.. groggy and stuff” You shake your thoughts away, allowing him to pull you into his embrace. “Hi…” You bring your gaze back to him, forcing yourself to ignore the caution tape blaring at the center of his face.
He takes another deep breath, this time of relief and smiles. “Hi darling…” His lips press to your temple and you melt instantly, running your hands under his shirt to his upper back, resting your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the sensation of your cold fingertips, making his embrace around you tighter, placing gentle kisses wherever he can reach.
A soft sigh escapes your lips, the breath dancing on his neck and ghosting his collarbone. His kisses become playful, eliciting a giggle out of you. “It tickles” you mumble with a smile, as you squirm in his embrace, burying your face deeper in the crook of his neck. He continues, hands playfully roaming your body. “Mikeeyy..” his name rolls off your tongue in a sing-song tone.
“Hmm..?” He coos, pulling away and looking into your eyes. The sight of him makes your heart sink again, but you swallow the big lump in your throat that is threatening to question further. In its place, you feign a smile, moving to him for a kiss, hoping to melt your thoughts away. He meets you there, the connection of your lips gentle, like an “I’m happy to see you” sentiment, before growing needy, tongues not yet exploring. It’s surface level, an innocent kiss, like the two of you are relearning each other. The taste, the scent, the feeling. “Missed you so much, pretty girl..” He breaks away to whisper, an intimate declaration between the two of you.
A smile creeps on your lips as you place a quick peck to the corner of his lips, faces barely an inch apart. “Really?” You raise a brow, asking playfully unconvinced. He nods, going back in for another kiss, this time more feverish, tongues finally breaking through into each other’s warm mouth. A gentle moan escapes from your chest, encouraging the innocently ravenous boy to explore you in depth, his kiss becoming increasingly needy. You join in, finally letting everything melt from your mind, but he hisses after your noses cross paths harshly, pulling away with a jerking motion that forces you back into reality.
He notices your guilty face, trying to break from the pain to tend to your concerns. “No.. no hey it’s okay.. it was an accident.” He comforts, trying to bring you back to the moment, but it doesn’t work. You walk away, making your way to the mattress to sit, hands running through your hair. He stands still, just watching you process.
After a beat, you look over to him, a sullen expression painted on his face and you sigh.. “You’re being too hard on him, regardless of your shock.. he needs you right now..” you think to yourself. You reach your arms out, gesturing to him. “Come here.. lemme see..” You command gently, and he hesitates again. “Michael. Let me see.” You repeat, a sternness threatening to take over. He mimics your earlier movements, running a hand through his hair, but eventually walks towards you, meeting you on the bed. You reach to turn on the bedside lamp to counteract the growing darkness caused by a disappearing sun, then sit cross legged to face your lover, and he follows.
His eyes avoid yours, but he grabs your hands, fidgeting with them like a child. “I'm sorry..” He whispers in concession, and your heart squeezes. You shake your head in negation, but he continues. “I'm sorry I shouldn’t have.. shouldn’t have…” but he’s not entirely sure what he shouldn’t have done, so he lets it trail off.
You take a hand from his grasp, and cusp his cheek, guiding his eyes into yours gently. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Michael but… what made you want to do this, like the real reason.” You ask and he tries to look away but you stop him. “No.” Is all you say, and he nods.
“My nose is too big… just makes me look ugly..” You can hear the lump in his throat, threatening to manifest into tears. “I figured, since I broke it, maybe it was my chance to.. to fix it, so that they’d love me.” He sighs, his eyes becoming glossy but he refuses to blink, refuses to cry in front of you.
“They? Who, Michael?” Your voice lowers, running your fingers gently through his hair. He leans into your touch, gently pecking it before responding.
“My fans.. I have to be perfect, they deserve it. They’re my family.” That tear finally breaks free, his hand immediately going to wipe it but you catch it before he can, letting the tear fall. You simply kiss the place left damp by his sadness, silently telling him that it’s okay to cry. That he doesn’t need to hide… not from you. As you pull away, he attempts to meet your lips with his, but you pull away, not allowing him to avoid the conversation.
“Mm-mm” You shake your head, you hold him in place, not allowing him to hide. “You don’t need to be perfect for anyone, Michael.” A reassuring tone, trying hard to hide the sadness that you truly wanted to convey. “You are so beautiful, you didn’t have to..” Your hand gestures to the bandages as you gathered your thoughts. “Didn’t have to do this Mikey..” Your voice is lowered, attempting to coax him, rather than scold him. “You’re so so beautiful, and I hate whatever made you feel otherwise..”
He flinches at your compliments, “You don’t have to lie to me.” He whispers, hiding away as more tears spill.
“I have never lied to you Michael..” you pause, a smirk forming as you cock your head to the side. “Well, except that one time when I told you all the ice cream was gone but I really just gave it to Janet.” A soft laughter escapes the fragile boy in front of you as he meets your gaze again.
“There he is.” You coo, leaning in close to him, cautious of contact to the fragile space. “There’s that handsome smile”. Your lips place a featherlight kiss, an affirmation to the tip of his tender nose. His eyes shut softly, a gentle sigh brushing against your skin from his nostrils.
You pull away and see his cheeks flush with a red that could paint roses. Silence fills the room for a split second that feels forever, but Michael breaks it with a heavy confession “I feel… really inadequate sometimes.” He confesses, holding onto your hands for comfort. “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough. No matter how much I practice, change, whatever, I won’t ever be satisfactory.”
Your heart sinks at the confession, seeing the boy, who works harder than anyone you’ve ever known, think this way about himself. “Oh my heart..” Is all you can say, but you wrap your arms around him, pulling him to your chest where you tenderly place his face.
Immediately at contact tears stream as his sobs shake his body and yours. He holds you as tightly as possible, like you’ll soon realize he isn’t good enough, the pressure squeezing your ribs. You hold him, allowing your fragile lover to expel his sorrows, his doubt, his fears, placing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.
“It’s okay.. its okay baby I’ve got you” you reassure him, hiding the pain in your voice as your own tears trickle down. “I’m not going anywhere.” The reassurance makes him grip you tighter, almost suffocatingly.
It's all overwhelming, you had never seen Michael break down like this before. So vulnerable, so… broken. The sensation of snot and tears drenching your t-shirt made you cringe, but you push past it, knowing that you’re comforting the most important person in your world. That you’re showing him that he can be himself to you, that he can feel this way with you.
Eventually, after what feels like a sacred eternity, he calms down, taking a minute to catch his breath. His head still rested on your chest as you run your fingers lightly across his scalp, the tranquility forming an idea in your mind.
“Michael?” His name leaves your tongue like honey for a sore throat, and he pulls away, looking at you with puffy eyes.
“Yes?” His voice is raw yet small, much more tender and devastatingly sweet.
“Can you change into your pjs and grab two flashlights for me?” Your request puzzles him and he hesitates.
“Flashlights?” He sniffles. “What for?” Curiosity peaks through his defeated tone, the infliction making your heart form a smile.
“I’ll tell you once you bring them okay?” A playful and promising voice laced in your statement. “And bring a towel and wet cloth. Lemme help clean your face.” You suggest, wanting to keep the moment intimate.
He rises slowly off the bed and begins to rummage through his things, searching first for some slumber pants that he quickly changed into, then your requested items. You watch in admiration, the lighthearted Michael making his way back to the surface.
“Found one!” He exclaims with a soft proudness, voice carrying to your ears like a cloud. He sets the first light under his arm as he searches for another, eventually finding it. He clicks them on and off to test their power, and makes his way back to the bed, placing them in your hand before he leaves to dampen a cloth.
A moment passes and he returns, one dry and one wet cloth in opposite hands. “Alright lemme see the wet cloth.” You direct, lightly patting the spot beside you for Michael to sit. He obliges, giving you the rag and you gently wipe away the secretions of sadness he expelled earlier.
In the areas closer to his surgery, you tenderly pat it, leaving the ghost of a kiss before moving to a new spot. You finish by drying the areas down with the dry cloth.
“Ok..” you start, moving to place the rags in the laundry that’s lightly scattered in the corner of his room. “Let’s go to Neverland.” You whisper, holding his hands as you lock eyes with him, exhibiting a whimsy for him to mimic.
“What-“ he starts, but you’ve already snatched a book off his nightstand before shutting off the lamp, leaving the room pitch dark. He looks around bewildered, but you’ve already hidden beneath his covers to notice. You flicker your flashlight once, the click echoing in the room as you allow it to shine through the blanket and he laughs.
“Mikey, come on!” You giggle, and he quickly joins you, flashlight in hand as he meets your face beneath the comforter. “There’s my Peter Pan.” The nickname he’s adored leaving your mouth makes him smile so wide.
“This is silly” He says through a cheese, but you shake your head.
“Nope! No such thing in Neverland.” Your face is riddled with wonder, only to be described as innocent. “Nothing is too silly here. This is our world. You, and me.” The way you say it makes him feel so large, so important but in a different way.
“You and me?” He asks, wanting to ensure you mean it. You grab his hand, placing a kiss to the palm.
“Just you and me.” The confidence and love in your voice melts his real burdens a way, even for just a little while. “You don’t have to be anyone here.” You drop your voice to a whisper. “Not Michael Jackson, not the most famous guy in the world, not the man shoved into public scrutiny..” You pause for a beat, and his eyes flicker away. Your plush lips kiss his temple, drawing him back to you. “Right now, in here with me, in our Neverland, you just get to be Michael. My Mikey, the kindest boy, and my favorite person in this whole world ok?”
He nods. “Okay.” He surrenders, allowing himself to just be Michael.
“Good.” You respond, handing him the previously acquired novel immediately after. “Can you read to me?” You ask, and his eyes light up. Of course he would. He loved to read.
“Of course.” He examines the book, titled “The Neverending Story” while you adjust yourself so you’re laying on his chest, his arms engulfing you while his hands open to the first page. When you both get settled into a comfortable position in your secret hideaway, legs intertwined in an innocent intimacy, you place your flashlight on the page and begins to read.
Every so often, he plants a gentle kiss to your crown, returning your earlier sentiments. The moment lasts, his voice and storytelling enthusiasm pulling the both of you into the pages. Eventually your eyes grow heavy, the flashlight starting to droop with your arm.
“Getting sleepy?” He mumbles, and you just nod, burying yourself deeper into his chest with a grumble. “Alright, angel.” The flashlight falls limp in your grasp, and he grabs it with a touch as light as a feather before placing it and the novel on the bedside table, careful not to shift you too much.
He sits for a minute, watching your chest ride and fall at a steady pace, watching the way your body makes a rhythm that you only trust him to hear. As he observes, you adjust, trying to be impossible closer to him. He laughs at the attempt, his hand running up and down your back, feeling the rhythm in his palm.
“Mghhm.. good night, Mikey” A deep sat exhale leaves your lips, your brain fully shutting down for the night.
“Goodnight.” He says in response before letting sleep overtake him. “Thank you for this. For letting me just be Michael.” he trails off before his eyes follow the influence of yours, your resting breaths a symphony of peace, bodies tangled in one another as the night settles.
The morning sun peers through the blinds and curtains, red slits projecting on the floor of the bedroom. After hours of a much needed, intimate slumber, Michael is up first, watching your soft breaths. His slender fingers comb through your hair, running down your side when he reaches the nape, then back up again.
He’s humming some tune, probably concocting his next masterpiece when your eyes flutter open, taking in the domestic sight.
“Morning sleepyhead” he coos, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. You smile, letting it absorb into your skin like a memory. As you adjust to your surroundings, you see the bandages, pulling you back in.
You don’t say anything at first, just gazing at it before you take your middle finger to gently run it along the bridge of his nose, the touch so light, he wouldn’t even know it was happening if he wasn’t watching.
He flinches, but you don’t pull away. “Does it still hurt?” You ask, voice a low velvet sound, pulling your hand away as you finish the path down the rearranged nose.
He shakes his head. “No… was just anticipating it to.” He confesses, his lazy eyes tracking your fingers as the rest on his chest. “Doctor says it will be a while until its fully healed but, pain will go away gradually.” His sleepy, informing tone elicits a nod from you.
“Michael..” You start, his eyes meeting yours at the beckoning. He wraps his arm around your waist, a gentle grip hooked on your shirt.
“Yes angel?” The sugar that coats the name gives you a rush, but you keep your head composed.
“Don’t ever do anything like this again…ever.” Your eyes gesture to his nose, then meet back to his. “This is it. Don’t ever do anything to your handsome face, or your body, anything from here forward.” Your tone leaves no room for silliness. You’re serious, even with how tender your voice is.
“Promise me” You cut him off before he can protest. “Promise me right now, Michael.”
A defeated sigh meets the air, and he just nods. “Ok.. I promise.” It’s a mumble, which you refuse to accept.
“Say it so I can hear you.” You urge once more, maintaining eye contact to connect your souls, to not let him hide from you.
“I promise.” The conviction in his second attempt made it sacred, made it true. “But what if..” His eyes squeeze shut, his grip on your tightening “What if they don’t love me anymore?” The desperate question made him look so small, so fragile, and it made your chest squeeze.
“Michael, you don’t even have to ask that” You reassure, letting your hand caress his warm cheek, bringing him back into the space shared between you two. “Those people out there, outside of those four walls,” a pause lingers, your hand pointing off for emphasis, “are obsessed with you, Michael” A laugh follows your words, and he chuckles softly too, face getting rosy and the thought. “Girls and guys alike, losing their minds over that special, handsome, sexy boy.” You tease, poking playfully at his ribs, his body coiling in response, giggling at the sensation.
A silence lasts for a beat, a millisecond even. “But even if they weren’t, you are so, so loved Michael.” You emphasize, eyes narrowing to ensure your point is resonant. “The people that mind, who will lose love for you because of what you look like or who you are, they do not matter.” A tear pools in his gentle brown eyes while a tiny quiver forms in his lips.
You notice, and you immediately go to kiss it away. “It’s okay. It's okay.” The affirmation so strong that he nods, a silent display of understanding. “At the end of the day Michael, when you come home and rest your head at night, when all the stardom is over, you still have all the love, the real, unconditional love, right here..” You grab his hand and place it on your chest, right where your heart beats, especially for him.
“You promise?” He whispers in desperation, his deep brown eyes looking to you with a plea, a need to be seen. “Promise that you’ll still love me?” He sniffles, wincing at the sensation it makes on his nose.
“Cross my heart, hope to die.” Your fingers make a plus-sign motion over your chest, as if making the statement a sacred ritual. “Anyone would be crazy not to love you.” Your faces grow closer, making your lips ghosts the words across his. “And I’m not crazy… well, sometimes” You joke, the breath of laughter escaping both of your bodies.
“You are a little crazy.” He retorts, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “But as long as it’s just for me… I can turn a blind eye.”
“Deal.” Your lips curl before you rest your head on Michael’s chest, his arms wrapping around you as you both take in the feeling of each other. The room is silent, the birds outside adding an almost orchestral ambience to the morning.
The silence grows loud, so you lift your head and face him, grabbing both sides of his face.
“Michael Joseph Jackson, aka, Michael, aka Applehead, aka Mikey, aka the sweetest boy on the planet,” you list all your sentiments to him, making his face shift to a beet red.
“Yes?” He asks through a shy smile, but you don’t answer at first. Instead your lips press gently to the tip of his nose.
“You are beautiful,” A kiss to his temple, “You are wonderful,” A kiss to his forehead, “You are incredible,” and finally, a lingering kiss to his lips that he returns, holding you there, savoring you before you pull away. “And I love you so, so, so, so, so, so” a kiss planted randomly to his skin after each so, making him erupt into laughter “so, so, so, so much.” You finish, looking him in the eyes. “You are already perfect, just the way you are.” That final praise lingers in the air, allowing itself to be tattooed into his brain and he nods in understanding.
“Just the way I am.” He repeats with bashful confidence.
“ I love you too.” He smiles, pausing for a beat then smirking. “So, so, so, so, so, so much” His giggling lips meeting your skin after every “so” just as yours did his.
As you playfully cry out “mercy!” in protest to the ticklish kisses, just loud enough for him to hear, his slender arms pull you into him and you both melt.
An intimate laughter coats the room as you let yourselves be pulled back into your sacred Neverland once more.
he was such a sweet soul I wish he knew just how special he was as just Michael
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