#michael x reader

“oh my goddddd!” you sob, covering your mouth and falling to your knees in disbelief. you can’t believe you’ve been chosen.

the security lifts you up by your arms, encouraging you to go onto stage with michael who’s standing at the edge of the stairs with his hand outstretched to you.

you climb up the stairs, tripping in the process. your heart beating a million times faster than it usually does. michael grabs a hold of your arm, stopping you from falling flat on your face and pulls you into a hug, his hand cupping the back of your head while he sings in your ear.

you take in his scent, smelling like tom ford, mixed with something fruity. you don’t even care when you smell hints of sweat from him performing all night long, you’ll gladly lick it off his skin if he asks you to.

he holds you tighter. one arm wrapped snuggly around your waist while the other one hands the mic to his mouth. you start crying, still not believing that you’re in his arms.

your sobs start to turn more heavy, as your heartbeat picks up pace, before you know it, your legs give out underneath you. your grip loosens around his neck, and it feels like you have no control over your body at all.

michael freezes when he feels your full body weight slump against him.

“shit.” he silently says under his breath when he sees your head loll forward onto his chest. he quickly catches you before your body can reach the ground. leaning down so he can grab the back of your knees, hoisting you into his arms.

the security grasps onto what just happened, quickly coming onto the stage and taking you out of michael’s arms.

“don’t drop her.” michael says into the mic, concerned about your well being.

he knows that it’s not uncommon for his fans to be fainting at his performances, but this is the first time a fan has fainted in his arms.

he’ll remind himself to check on you after the show like he does with all his fans that either get injured or faint at his performances.

you open your eyes groggily, noticing that you’re in a white lit room, laying on an uncomfortable flat bed.

“what just happened?” you ask, your mind going back to you just being at a concert, being picked up from the barriers and going on stage with… “oh my god!” you shout, shooting up from the bed.

a woman comes into the room, holding cookies and a bottle of water. “you shouldn’t move that quickly after passing out.” she says, her brows furrowing.

“i passed out…” you say. “while on stage with michael jackson?” you exclaim, your hands coming up to your face with disappointment and also a twinge of embarrassment.

not only did you get picked to go on stage with him but you fucked up by passing out? in front of everyone? in front of him??

you just want the floor to swallow you up whole. the best moment of your life just turned into the worst moment of your life.

“are we still at the stadium?” you ask, quickly wondering if you still have enough time to go out there and enjoy the rest of his performance. you called sick into work to be here damn it!

she nods with a sympathetic smile, “yes but it’s over now. you’re in one of the rooms that are made for people like you that faint at concerts.”

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. tears start to spring to your eyes because you’re so disappointed in yourself. now you’re going to be plastered all over the internet as the girl who fainted in front of michael jackson.

hey, at least you got to hug him before your body absolutely betrayed you.

“here.” she hands you the cookies and the water. “you need to drink and eat something. you passed out because not only was your heart rate extremely high but you were also dehydrated.”

“thanks.” you mumble, looking down at your lap. now all you want to do is go home and cry into your pillow at you making a massive fool of yourself.

your dreams have just been shattered.

“since you seem fine, i’m going to leave but when you’re more steady on your feet, security is outside to help escort you out of the stadium.” and with that she gives you one last smile, before leaving.

you nod, chewing slowly on the cookies and taking small sips of your water.

a knock sounds on the door, the door opening revealing two security guards. one of them in plain clothing. your brows furrow in confusion. do they want you to leave now?

but it’s only when they step aside, your jaw dropping mid chew when you see who’s behind them.

“oh my god.” you nearly drop off the bed when michael walks into the room with a small smile on his face.

“hey, you okay?” he immediately asks, moving towards the side of the bed.

“..that’s m-michael jackson.” you look at the security for some sort of help, pointing to michael in utter shock. “that’s… he’s speaking— michael jackson is speaking to me!”

michael laughs, dropping his head. he’s still dressed in his gear from the show, beads of sweat still sticking to his skin. it’s as if he came down here immediately after he finished performing.

“i just want to know if you’re okay.” michael chuckles, ignoring your panicked state. you guess he’s used to fans fawning over him.

you nod your head rapidly, “uh-huh.”

“i just wanted to come down and check on you since you fainted while we were on stage together. i was extremely worried.”

michael jackson was worried about… you?

and he had the decency to personally come down and check on you himself?

you feel like you’re about to pass out again with the overwhelming dizziness you’re experiencing.

maybe you’re still unconscious and this is all you just hallucinating, because there’s absolutely no way michael jackson is standing only a arm width away from you.

“..i’m okay. i just can’t believe you’re right in front of me.” you let out a nervous laugh, fiddling your fingers together.

“that’s okay.” michael laughs.

“i’m sorry for being a disturbance.” you start, guilty that you probably passed out straight onto the floor, interrupting the whole performance.

michael shrugs like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “i luckily caught you before you fell and just handed you to security, it wasn’t as bad as you’re makin’ it out to be.”

okay now you’re definitely going to pass out.

he caught you.

in. his. arms.

that is like a dream come true. fuck being unlucky. you’re now extremely lucky because yes you fainted but you fainted in michael jackson’s arms. he held you.

some fans will die for that opportunity.

michael laughs suddenly, crashing your thoughts of him.

“i guess i did hold you in my arms.” he smiles. he finds you funny, really funny.

“shit did i say all that out loud?” you exclaim, embarrassment eating you up alive. you quickly cover your mouth realising you just accidentally swore in front of him. “oh fuck— oh sorry.” you speak behind your hand, closing your eyes in defeat when you fail at not swearing.

at this point you’re just a walking, talking mess.

michael can’t help but smile at your cuteness. your eyes are wide with shock. you’re plump lips parted with awe at his presence.

hm… not only are you funny but you’re gorgeous too. with your pretty pink outfit on, your hair done to perfection.

‘good fish.’ michael nods to himself.

michael licks his lips, biting the bottom one. making your eyes drop to his mouth.

“how about you let me know you got home okay by givin’ me your number.” one of the security steps forward trying to tell him that it’s not a good idea fraternising with a fan but he just holds a hand up stopping the guy in his tracks.

you on the other hand, can’t believe you’re hearing correctly. yup, this is definitely a hallucination. you’re going to snap back to reality in a second and officially be deemed as crazy.

“this ain’t a hallucination and you’re definitely not crazy, mama. i’m asking for your number.”

you’re not even focused on the fact that you just said another one of your thoughts out loud or that you’re starting to feel lightheaded. your only focus is that he just asked for your number. and he just called you a pet name.

michael immediately gets concerned when he sees your eyes drop and your body lean to the side. “again?” he lets out a chuckle in disbelief, when he catches your body from falling off the bed and gently laying you flat on your back.

luckily this time you were only passed out for a few seconds before you open your eyes, sitting up with a gasp. “no way i just did it again.” you groan, looking at the three men in the room. one of them who’s one of the biggest stars in the world and happened to ask for your damn number.

“you’re starting to concern me, y’know that right.” michael shakes his head. you’re funny, pretty and you have a habit of passing out every second.

surprisingly that makes him drawn to you even more.

“so will i be getting that number?” michael asks again, raising a brow.

you nod enthusiastically, nearly knocking your head off your shoulders. michael asks the security for a pen and paper, letting you scribble down your number with your name attached at the end.

michael reads the note, saying your name and loving how it sounds rolling off his tongue.

he could get used to that.

he tucks the note in his pocket, giving your whole body one last once over. “these boys are getting a bit restless with me being here out in the open, so I’ll have to leave. but ill call you tonight okay?” he says.

“okay.” you let out a breathless sigh. your voice sounding foreign from your own lips.

“speak to you soon, mama.” and with that he turns around and leaves. leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

what the fuck just happened.

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your face warms up in embarrassment, your arms coming up instinctively to cover your boobs.

you shouldn’t be embarrassed since he is your boyfriend, but you two have only been together for about two months and you haven’t even been intimate yet.

he’s never seen you naked before. not even a bikini.

so this is the first ever time, he’s seen you half naked and it happened to be accidentally because you were too damn reckless to get ready in the bathroom.

“hey, mike. you still there?” michael hears marlon say in his ear, but the only thing he could focus on is the sight of your perfect, full boobs that were just in his face right now.

“mike?” marlon says again when michael still doesn’t reply.

he’s frozen. one hand with his phone to his ear, unmoving. and the other hand holding his discarded jacket. but the funny part is the way his mouth is agape, staring at your covered chest like he can still see the smooth plump skin, and your hardened nipples through your palms.

you’d probably be laughing right now if you wasn’t as caught off guard as he is.

“i—” you clear your throat, swallowing hard. “..i thought you was meant to be at the studio today.”

he doesn’t reply. not to you and definitely not to marlon who is so close to hanging up on him.

since he’s still somewhat frozen, you shrug because it’s not that serious. he is your boyfriend and he is going to see your body at some point, it just happened to be today.

it just seems more intense, because he still hasn’t stopped staring at you.

you stand up, his eyes trailing down from your chest, to your barely covered mound, his mouth opening even wider.

you tut, your embarrassment fizzling away to amusement. “honey, my eyes are up here.”

his eyes snap to yours. the first sign of movement he’s made since he caught you in here practically naked.

michael clears his throat, turning his back so you can’t see the uncomfortable tent in his pants. “marlon, imma have to call you back.”

“but we were just—” michael hangs up, not interested in anything else marlon has to say. he keeps his back turned, squeezing his eyes shut. but once he closes his eyes, he can’t stop thinking about your boobs. how they’d fit perfectly in his hands. how he wants to squeeze on them, kiss them, suck on them, play with them like they’re his own special toy.

while michael still has his back turned and it’s like he’s having his own personal battle with himself, you continue getting ready, until you’re fully dressed.

michael nearly jumps out of his skin when you tap his shoulder.

he turns around, a sigh of relief escaping his lips when he sees that you’re fully dressed. he doesn’t know what he would’ve done if you were still there, barely clothed.

he’s a gentleman. he shouldn’t be having all these nasty thoughts. even if they are about his girlfriend.

“you okay?” you ask, a smirk forming on your lips.

michael nods. “yeah um…” his eyes instinctively look down to your now covered chest, he closes his eyes, heat starting to rise to his cheeks. “…quincy wasn’t- he… i didn’t— i mean i wasn’t… i—”

you nod, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing. he is so downright adorable that it just makes you want to squeeze his cheeks.

he’s nervous, all because he saw your boobs.

“mikey, it’s okay.” you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck.

“hm?” he hums, not exactly trusting his mouth to form coherent words.

“you saw my boobs, it’s no big deal.” you shrug, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

hearing you say the words out of your own mouth, makes him duck his head shyly. his hand coming up to grasp onto your hip.

you laugh, your hand coming up to stroke the back of his hair. “you’re so damn shy it’s adorable.”

“no it’s not just that,” he says raising his head. his eyes, filled with nothing but love and admiration. “you’re just so pretty, can’t believe you’re all mine.” his other hand snakes down to where your ass is, giving it a small squeeze.

“…and also because i wasn’t prepared to see that when i walked in.” his eyes pointing down to your chest, making you laugh.

“it’s not my fault, i thought you wasn’t home!” you whine.

he bites his lip, his hands starting to rub up and down your waist, his hands slipping under your top. “i mean i wouldn’t mind that kind of view every time i come home from now on.”

you gasp, “what happened to the shy michael from a couple moments ago?”

he shrugs, his hands crawling up until they reach your bra covered chest. he boldly pulls down the cup, one of his hands engulfing your whole breast. “hmm they feel good too.” he mumbles, his eyes fixed onto his hand that’s under your shirt.

you let out a small moan, when he pinches your nipple using his fingers.

“take off your shirt.” michael says, biting his lip so hard that you won’t be surprised if he drew blood. “i think imma need a proper look.”

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