thriller!michael gaining a habit by checking your pulse/heartbeat to make sure your there ‧ ₊ ˚ .
in big, large crowds michaels anxiety would pick up. sure, he should have been used to it. it was his job. but the man couldn’t help it. that’s why he loved having you around. you were his ground, his medium. if you weren’t there his security made sure to at least have something that reminded him of you to ground him. yet nothing eased him more than you, physically being there.
one thing he loved to do was check your pulse. even just pressing his two fingers, lightly against your wrist. or pressing his kisses down a bit hard at the pulse point at your neck. those little things helped him more than you realized. when nights got crazy with his dad, all he wanted to hear was the steady thump of your heartbeat. it calmed him. some nights you would wake up at 2 in the morning to hear him crying over the phone, begging for you to put the phone speaker against your chest. and you did, and it helped him.
one night whilst he thought you were sleeping he confessed. exposing how most night he couldn’t sleep without you. explaining how your heart beat was like a nursery rhyme for him. making him fall asleep instantly. telling you how much he loved to hear it, how it consoled him. you almost cried on the spot hearing how seen you were. michael still doesn’t know that you were awake that entire time.
in all honesty you hadn’t picked up on that small habit until the late night phone calls. you didn’t mind, it was cute. you loved the fact that your man had to feel your steady heart beat just to make sure you were there. other times, it hurt you. thinking about him having this feeling that your not real, too good for him.
but, michael would be michael. continuing to keep the habit. making your neck, your left upper chest, and your wrist to be his favorite kiss points. also asking if he could sample your heartbeat for an upcoming song in his bad album.
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can u do jaafar!michael where its based on the scene where he just got back from getting his nose done?? instead of joseph its u who saw him
bandages | michael jackson
pairing: jaafar!michael x reader
word count: 2,0k
summary: where y/n catches michael sneaking into the house after his first nose job
a/n: thank you sm for requesting <3 (where do i put this on the masterlist? lol)
warnings: angst, self-doubt, established relationship
The house is unnervingly quiet as Michael opens the front door, the hinges giving a faint squeak. Almost too quiet. He squeezes through the narrow opening and closes the door behind him with a soft click. With his head lowered, he heads straight for the stairs, hoping not to be seen. He reaches the middle of the staircase just in time, a door opening somewhere downstairs, voices following. Quickly, he picks up his pace. Once upstairs, he carefully avoids the floorboards he knows will betray him, sneaking his way through the house.
He doesn’t want anyone to see him after what he’s done.
His pulse pounds against his throat as he reaches his parents’ bedroom. There is no other way to get to his own room. He has no choice but to pass it. Holding his breath, he continues on his way and hears someone walking through the entrance hall, likely a maid. Suddenly, he hears a sound from behind his parents’ bedroom doors, as if someone is moving inside. He startles, a sharp breath catching in his throat, and hurries past.
His bedroom door at the end of the hall comes into view, and with every step, the sound of his heartbeat grows louder in his ears, drowning out everything else. His hand trembles as he reaches for the doorknob and steps into the safety of his room. Leaning his back against the door, basically blocking it, he immediately lets out a breath, relieved that no one has seen him.
Michael knows he cannot hide his nose surgery forever; it is far too noticeable a procedure. Yet, in his mind, it makes sense to put off the inevitable revelation as long as possible, especially since he hasn’t told a soul about it. One morning, he simply looked in the mirror and saw Joseph staring back at him through his own reflection – specifically Joseph’s nose, that is – and booked the consultation before he could lose his nerve.
He was terrified, incredibly and utterly terrified. Medical procedures always frightened him and the significance attached to this one made it all the worse.
He dreads the day he will have to stand before him and admit what he has done. The day he gives him the satisfaction of knowing what his ugly words drove him to do. That years of being told he was ugly, that his nose was too big, too awkward, too wrong, had finally gotten to him.
“You’re back!”
Michael’s body goes rigid when he realizes he isn’t alone. You lie sprawled across his bed, absentmindedly kicking your feet as you flip through a magazine. You haven’t looked up yet; the article you’re reading apparently too interesting to spare your boyfriend a glance. For one fleeting second, Michael is grateful for it as it gives him a few extra seconds to figure out his next move. However, his mind has gone completely blank; he can’t think of a thing, except – SHIT!
You lift your gaze from the magazine and smile at him, but he immediately turns his head away, his cap and sunglasses obscuring his face. You caught a brief flash of something white on his face, your smile fading almost instantly. You frown, sensing that something is wrong.
“Michael?”, you whisper, barely making a sound, and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the magazine long forgotten. With each step you take toward him, he flinches and your stomach drops. His entire body is tense; he presses his back against the door so hard he’s practically trembling. One hand is behind his back, gripping the door handle tightly, as if he’s about to bolt at any moment.
“What’s.. going on?”, you ask, but the question dies halfway through. You are close enough now, close enough that him turning his head away no longer helps. Your gaze falls on his nose and the bandages wrapped around it.
“What..?” The word escapes in a shaky breath. Michael presses his lips into a thin line and his eyes remain fixed on the floor. Because he is terrified of what he might see in your expression when you look at him like this. He couldn’t bear it if you were to see him differently now.
You cautiously raise a hand, very slowly. He notices from the corner of his eye and instinctively shrinks away, as though making himself smaller could soften whatever you’re about to say. You gently cradle his chin and turn his head toward you, leaving him no choice but to look at you. He doesn’t resist.
The extent of what he has done is now unmistakably visible right there on his face. Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. When he spots a hint of sadness in your gaze, not disgust, not disappointment, his shoulders loosen ever so slightly. Evidently, he senses no threat coming from you. You had never given him any reason to fear judgment or condemnation, but Michael’s mind liked to convince him of the worst.
Without saying a word, you gently remove the sunglasses from his face to look into his eyes. You almost drop it when you look into his deep brown, big, beautiful eyes, a hitched breath escaping your throat. Dark purple bruises surround both eyes, a sign that his nose was likely broken. His eyes radiate such profound sadness and vulnerability that it takes your breath away, leaving you momentarily dizzy as you realize what it all means. Why he did it.
You don’t dare touch his face, afraid even the gentlest contact might hurt him, so your hands just hover uncertainly beside his face while you’re searching for the right words to say. You can’t come up with anything and because Michael can’t bear it any longer, the uncertainty of it all, he beats you to it.
“It’s for my sinuses”, he says softly, his voice cracking at the end. He can’t even look at you when he says it, averting his gaze once more.
“Oh, Michael”, your breath trembles as the words leave your mouth. You know he’s lying and he knows that you know that he’s lying. You know why he did it and he knows that you know why he did it. He has told you about it often enough. That he wants to look like a real superstar, that his nose is simply too big, too ugly. All words his father drilled into him from early childhood, until eventually, he came to believe them.
You have witnessed firsthand how Joseph talks to him even to this day, how he tears him down at any chance he gets, mocking him, belittling him, calling him ugly when he is quite literally the most beautiful man in the world. The irony of it all makes your blood boil.
You had loved his nose, it fit him so well. You still do. His entire face was perfect to you, is perfect to you. Changing it won’t change how you see him. But it hurts knowing he never got the chance to see himself through your eyes instead of Joseph’s. You feel like you’ve failed him. That you didn’t do enough to blur Joseph’s words out, to make him feel comfortable in his own skin, to accept himself the way he is. But you never had any chance, Joseph’s damage had been done long before you came into his life.
What hurts most is watching him try to hide from you.
It’s all becoming too much for Michael. He simply can’t meet your gaze, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He reaches for his sunglasses and squeezes past you, flexing his hand because he had been gripping the door handle far too tightly. You don’t let him get far, though. Quickly, you grab his wrist. He stops abruptly and looks at you, so sad and hurt that it breaks your heart. A grown, beautiful man, broken by the words of a man who ought to be supporting him, who ought to love him just as he is. Who terribly failed him.
Without hesitation, you pull him into a tight embrace, careful not to touch his nose. At first, Michael is taken aback and stands rigid in your arms, caught completely off-guard.
“Does it hurt?”, you murmur against his shoulder, planting a feather-light kiss there. His breath shudders and then, slowly, almost hesitantly, his arms wrap around you. He pulls you close until there’s no space left between you, squeezing you tightly against his chest.
Only then does his body relax. You can tell by the way he hugs you back, that he’s so grateful to have you, to have someone who will always have his back, no matter what. You can feel his heartbeat underneath his skin.
“A bit”, he sniffs. You both know he isn’t talking about the surgery. The deepest wound had been there long before the bandages ever were. Neither of you says so.
Michael’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly. You feel it in the way his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, in the way he leans just a little more of his weight against you, as though holding himself upright has suddenly become too exhausting. Silence stretches between the two of you, broken only by his uneven breathing against your shoulder. Gently, you rub your hand up and down his back, reminding him that you are there.
“I ruined my face.” The words are so quiet you almost miss them. Your heart cracks and you pull back just enough to look at him, keeping your hands resting lightly against his sides so you don’t risk brushing his nose.
“What?”
“I know you loved my old nose. Now I look like this, awful”, he swallows hard.
“Do you want to know why I loved your old nose?”, you ask, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
“Why?”
“Because it was yours”, you explain, your fingertips carefully smoothing the sleeve of his overall. “And I’ll love this one for exactly the same reason.”
For a long moment, you simply look at him. Michael doesn’t know how to respond to that. He is overwhelmed by the gentleness in your voice, in your eyes. It feels almost foreign, being looked at with so much love when he’d spent most of his life expecting criticism instead. He wants to believe you, desperately, but Joseph’s voice is louder, older, woven into him too tightly to simply disappear.
With the same care you’d shown when removing his sunglasses, you reach up to the brim of his cap now, lift it from his head and set it aside. Soft curls, flattened from being tucked beneath it for hours, spring free. You gently comb your fingers through them, brushing them back from his forehead, careful not to go anywhere near the bandages.
“I just..”, your voice catches for a moment, unsure how to phrase it. “I just wish you would’ve told me.”
He lowers his gaze, feeling embarrassed that he ever thought, even if it was only for the split of a second, that you could ever resent him for what he’d done. You slip your hand into his, the touch making him look up nervously as he squeezes your hand.
“I would’ve been there to hold your hand”, you tell him, your thumb stroking over his knuckles. “You didn’t have to be scared by yourself.”
A fresh tear rolled down Michael’s cheek. “I know”, he whispers hoarsely. “I just.. I couldn’t.”
“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you”, you say, your own voice trembling now. “How incredibly beautiful you are, inside and out. I hate that he spent your entire childhood convincing you that you weren’t enough. Because you’re more than enough, Michael.”
The bandages are covering the aftermath of what has been done to him. Years of shame, years of hearing the same cruel worlds, years of pretending they didn’t matter – all of it crashes over him at once. Immediately, you wrap him in your arms again. This time he doesn’t hesitate and buries his face against your shoulder as carefully as he can, mindful of his bandaged nose, while his body shakes with quiet sobs.
summary: inviting michael over for a sleepover turns into your love confession to him.
you sat cross legged on your couch, excited hands nestled in your lap. your heart was beating with joy at the thought of your crush, well.. best friend, michael, finally coming over for a sleepover. you’ve begged him to stay over for weeks now, but he always declined, explaining that he and quincy were really busy working on michael’s newest album, Off the Wall.
you heard a loud ding, and you jumped from your seat on the lounge and ran over to the door. you grabbed onto the doorknob, swinging it open.
michael stood there, silent and embarrassed. he had a little pillow in his hands and a folded up blanket. his eyes darted around, pink blush forming on the apples of his cheeks
you gasped and hugged him, “hi michael! how was the drive here?”. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close. you felt his body tense up as your breasts smushed into his chest. you could feel his heart beating like crazy.
“oh, it was nice.. had a lil’ nap..” he muttered, pulling away from your touch, “I’ve been so tired, working on that album all day..”, michael sighed, stepping into your house.
“I’ve heard. but right now, let’s just chill. get that off your mind.” you grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the living room. he stumbled around on the cool marble floor as he struggled to hold onto his blanket and pillow, the two items nearly falling out of his grasp when you grabbed him so roughly.
“here! sit!” you commanded, patting the cushion. he nodded and sat, crossing his legs as he placed his little pillow behind him. he took out his blanket, throwing it over his head, leaving a small gap for his little face. he then wrapped the rest of the soft cloth around his thin body, snuggling up inside. he looked like a little potato.
“I’m gonna go get some pop corn, just sit and relax!” you exclaimed. michael smiled and nodded, watching you run into the living room to start cooking the popcorn. you were in such a hurry, you hope he didn’t notice.
michael sat there silently, the tv still playing some alpha-bits cereal ad. he blinked as he observed what was on the big screen. he quietly waited for your return.
you finally came back with a big bowl full of pop corn. you sat down and handed it to michael with a big smile on your face, you felt very proud handing your homemade popcorn over to him. “made it all by myself!” you grinned, making a funny face at him. he giggled softly, “I bet it’s gonna taste amazing..!”, he dug his hand into the bowl, taking a hand full of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth. you felt your heart lit up as michael began chewing.
“wow, y/n.. this is really tasty! what did ya’ put in here?” he gasped, bringing a hand to his mouth. “just some love, that’s all.” you brushed your hair back jokingly, flashing him a big, fat smile. “that was so good, I want some more!” he rejoiced, continuing to devour the rest of your famous popcorn.
the two of you watched tv together. that damn popcorn being mentioned in most of your guys conversation. ugh’, that popcorn was taking too much attention away from you!
-
“so, michael.. do you have a crush on anyone?” you asked, placing a hand on your chin. michael gasped, his face reddened up like a tomato. his heart suddenly started beating faster, he’d never felt so flustered ever!
“what!?” he spoke, tilting his head, his eyes widening with a flustered expression. “crush..?!” michael muttered out, he whispered the innocent word as if it were a crime. “y/n, you’re so crazy..!” he giggled, blush appearing brighter and redder in his little cheeks.
“it’s just a question, mikey..” you giggle, wrapping your arm around him. “okay, instead of telling me, you have to guess mine.” you booped his nose with your finger, the contact making him jump.
“Um, okay..” he hesitatingly answered. he stared off as he began thinking. who could you possibly have a crush on anyway? you did talk about love a lot, but you never talked about getting dates or going on ones at all. “oh, y/n.. I have no idea.” michael confessed, turning away from you.
“here, look. I’ll give you a hint. his name starts with a m!” you teased, putting your hands on your hips. he sighed and thought for a moment. “m-marlon?!” michael growled, swiftly turning his head towards you. “eugh! no! think again!” you joked.
his jaw dropped as he realized what you were saying. you liked him..? like.. a crush!! that’s actually crazy.. michael never thought you’d like him, he thought you and him were just friends!!
“me..?” he spoke, pointing at himself. you blushed and nodded slowly. placing your hands in your lap. “it’s been you, michael.” you confessed, your little heart skipping a beat, “for a long time now..”
“that’s.. so weird. I never thought you liked me, not even for a moment.” michael was in complete denial. he never thought the prettiest girl, you, would actually like him. but, he is the king of pop anyway, girls throw themselves at him!
“michael, can we?” you tilted your head, flashing him doll eyes. he looked away, his body shaking with both joy and nervousness. did you wanna kiss him, hug him? he didn’t know, he was so nervous he couldn’t even think.
as he sat there having a mini-heart attack, he felt two hands on his face, and then soft, glossed lips meet his.
he moaned as he felt your tongue explore his mouth. sweet gasps escaping from him. your hands roamed around his body, settling at his thin waist. you then pulled away, spit connecting the two of you. you gazed into his doe eyes, sparkling with desire.
“michael, do you love me?” you asked, grabbing his hand. he stopped for a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes. he sighed, and then looked back at you, and nodded. “I love you, y/n. will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, holding your hand tightly like he was never gonna release it ever. “yes!” you marveled, wrapping your arms around him.
~
that night, michael became your first ever boyfriend. he was so amazing. loving, caring, all the things you could ever dream up. but his work schedule was crazy hectic as always. but you still loved him, even if he wasn’t by your side day by day. at least you were his.
꒰ა˚₊✧ SUMMARY: michael drags you to studio 54 to have fun with him after a rough breakup.
WC: 1.1k
TW: none just fluff and a little angst.
A/N: reader is depicted as a black female!! also i was thinking of the song stayin alive by bee gees cuz that was out in the 70s so yah. this is lowkey kinda bad but its ok!! want more michael?? click here!!!
you were at home. crying your eyes out. your boyfriend of one year broke up with you because “he lost feelings” and “things are different nowadays” you were even more mad then sad because he couldn’t even tell you face to face he called you and told you things were over
so now all your doing is sitting at home, eating ice cream and binge watching random shows that come on the television. your mom and dad try their best to comfort you and say things like “your 19! you will find someone better trust me”
you just ignore it half of the time. you spent your fridays and saturday nights alone. you’re almost never outside. only one person has cared enough to stay in touch with you. and that’s michael.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
it was saturday night and your phone rings. you already knew who it was but you still acted like you didn’t when you picked it up
“hey who’s this?” you stifled back a giggle.
“it’s michael! i just wanted to say im sorry about your break up and everything again.. for the 100th time. but you need to get outside and have some fun.”
you groan “have fun where michael? there’s no where to have fun at?”
“you can come with me to a club?”
“michael you know. i feel.. so tired and ugly i just don’t wanna go anywhere”
“hey hey! don’t say that. cmon just trust me and come with me. please? pretty yourself up. though you don’t really need too. but pleaseee.”
you stay quiet for a while “..fine..”
“see you in 20?” you could hear michael’s excitement through the phone
“yay! okay bye, Y/N see you!”
“yea yea” you smile despite yourself
“bye bye michael.” you hang up
you sigh and get up. you only had 20 minutes and you already showered. you rummaged through your closet and settled on the orange tight glittery dress. you shrug and put it on. then you put on some white sequin stilettos.
you know it takes you a while to style your hair so you start that right away, straightening it then curling the ends.
about 20 minutes later your finally done. your dark honey brown skin shiny. you walk downstairs. your mom is surprised honestly because she hasn’t seen you get ready like this in weeks.
“honey. where are you going?” your mom looks happy of course but confused
“out with michael. illl be back later i really gotta go.”
“oh! o-okay!! see you then.. be safe! seriously!”
you pick up ur right purse from the coat hanger and rush out the front door. you see michael’s all black car waiting for in the front. you climb in the back knowing bill is probably in the front and michael is in the passenger
“heyy!! you look pretty!” he chuckled
“aw thanks michael. so where are we going?”
“you’ll see.” he looked ahead at the road
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
you and michael arrive at this club called “Studio 54” there’s people of all shades. everyone dancing and singing. it was just good vibes. it started out awkward at first.
michael trying to convince you to dance with for like 40 minutes straight. suddenly one of your favorite songs starts playing “stayin alive” by bee gees. it was literally the only song that was stopping you from going into depression when your boyfriend broke up with you.
you finally go up to michael and start dancing. your bracelets shaking, and glinting at the light. michael automatically starts dancing with you. trying to lighten the mood he spins you around. you smile. a genuine one. michael can’t remember the last time he’s seen that.
you laughing, and giggling. dancing around. your hair bouncing around. you don’t have a care in the world really.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
when the nights over, your straight hair is slightly puffy. your legs and feet hurt a little but you feel amazing
“thank you michael for dragging me out here. i feel okay. like everything’s gonna be okay.”
“your absolutely welcome. you looked like you had fun. a lot of fun.” he chuckles
“i absolutely did. i don’t even wanna go home”
michael is shocked “it’s late. you should get home. it’s starts getting unsafe”
“yea i know. but i thank you seriously”
“your welcome. you needed it so badly i could tell. just happy i could break a barrier” he nudges you
you laugh and finally make it to the car. where bill was waiting.
you climb into the backseat while michael gets in the passenger. then bill starts driving you home
that’s it. literally (couldn’t find a cute ending im sorry😭)
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Though our souls were destined to be with one another, I had to go against the universe to prevent it from happening. She was beautiful, charming, and loving.
I was a dog at my worst. I had been working day and night, waiting for the day to end just for it to start again and repeat the cycle.
My love for her was unconditional, but it hurt me to see my baby asleep in bed alone whenever I came back, whether it had been from rehearsals, filming, or recording.
The night I decided to let my baby go wasn’t a night you’d have imagined it to be like. The raindrops echoed outside as I tapped my foot anxiously against the floor, waiting for her to come downstairs.
“Mike? What’s up with you?” Her voice was soft and loving, as always.
“I think this—we—us should stop.” God, I sounded like an idiot. I couldn’t even formulate a normal sentence without feeling a lump in my throat.
“What the fuck?”
Her curse sounded like a deep cut against already bleeding skin.
My baby’s loving and sweet. It’s my loneliness that has taken over our love
Summary: You wake up in Michael’s bed after a night of drinking and flirtatious behavior.
Notes/Warnings: 18+ only, adult consensual flirting, drinking (be safe) F goes home with stranger (never do this!) adult language.
Had to write something with Michael from Hoard. There will be a few chapters for him and his F!Reader. How Joe looked in the clip I needed to write something! ❤️s are appreciated…so are reblogs! Feedback is also welcome! Wanna be tagged, just let me know.
*Oh, you’re awake.”
You blinked in the low light of the room. Glancing in the direction of the deep raspy voice, you gasped. You covered your mouth with your hand.
The night came crashing down on you.
You had been stood up. You had been nursing your fourth cocktail when he walked up. His dark curls, the hint of a chain laying against his chest under the black button down.
“What’s a pretty girl like you, leaning against my spot all alone?”
“Who said I was alone?”
He only chuckled, making his cynical mouth curl into a smirk. With a quick motion of his hand and a cold one was placed right in front of him.
He took a swig and brushed his mouth clean with the back of his hand.
“So are ya going to tell me or will I have to start inventing stories?” His tone was brisk, almost bored it made you wonder why he even cares to ask.
You finally relented. You knew you couldn’t win against him. “Set up through friends. He never showed.”
“Fucking loser.”
“Hey, maybe his car broke down.”
He rose an eyebrow. “You’re defending him now, almost five drinks in?”
You pressed your lips together. “Alright, fucking loser.”
The curls on his head bounced as he threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Knew it.”
The night had crawled on. More drinks had been had, it wasn’t long before you longed to feel him, touch him. You knew he noticed and you welcomed, anything that came from him. You could practically feel yourself grow hungry for it.
At one point, he had grabbed you to stop from being a little wobbly. His large hands certainly knew how hold you in place. They did even a better job when he held you to him to kiss if it could even be considered that. More like devouring between two very hungry people.
“We only kissed. I like when my girls actually respond to me and my touch.”
His voice interrupted, your imagination. You were keen in wanting more to have happened the night before.
He finished towel drying his hair and drew close. You could smell the crisp scent of his soap, it made you tremble and the hunger you felt from last night returned.
“I have to head into work soon sweetheart. You are gonna have to run along.”
“But..but.”
A smirk curled his lips once again.
“Look darling, maybe some other time.”
You reached out and managed to tug on the white tank top he was already wearing. “Please?”
He looked you up down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face so your eyes met his.
“Now if we do, sweetheart. Don’t be catching feelings since I saved you from weaving and wobbling home by your lonesome last night, alright?”
“Yes.” You agreed in a soft voice, defeat in your heart.
“Yes, what?”
Your stomach immediately knotted furiously. You could taste your desire for him.
“Yes, sir.”
He smiled, for the first time since you met him. “That’s my sweet petal. I like the sound of that.” And he let go of your chin. “Now be a good girl and take off my white t-shirt.”
