summary: a perfect beach day with your sweet boyfriend should have ended in peace, but when his brothers’ usual teasing pushes Michael’s insecurities a little too far, you’re quick to remind him exactly where he stands ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
warning: sexual themes, smut, 18+, jealousy, insecurity & slight mild emotional hurt, fluff, family teasing, slight possessiveness, shower sex, already an established relationship, maybe a bit of a breeding kink thrown in there lol
a/n: hope u like this cute lil story!!! i have been quite busy with work and moving apartments, so i tried to write this quickly in between the chaos, have a nice weekend everyone <3♡‧₊˚
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A comfortable silence settled inside the baby blue Cadillac as a sweet beach day slowly came to an end. The smoldering California heat was finally beginning to subside.
This was one of those rare days when your usually busy boyfriend had cleared his schedule completely — an entire day devoted to you.
The scent of sunscreen and coconut lingered on both your skin. Your hair was still damp with saltwater, beginning to dry into soft, messy waves. Your curls looked untamed and golden, lightened by the sun. A warm, sun-kissed glow had settled over your skin.
You'd had a wonderful day, and you were silently grateful Michael had brought his Polaroid camera to capture it all.
Maybe it was the excitement of a new relationship — or the fact that you hadn't seen your sweet, hardworking boyfriend in an entire week — but you couldn't help staying close to him in the back seat. Almost draped over him.
Your fingers remained intertwined, your head resting on his shoulder, both of your curls blending together in the lingering warmth.
You glanced up at him instinctively. He looked down at the same moment. A soft grin spread across both of your faces before he leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You held his gaze for a moment longer — soft, loving, intense — his eyes catching the sunset so perfectly they looked like burning amber.
Your intimate moment came to a gentle halt as the car slowed to a stop. Sweet old Bill was probably tired of driving lovestruck youngsters around all day. Although he kept his distance and mainly handled pickups and drop-offs, he'd been around long enough to witness plenty of your softness together.
Bill adored Michael and you, of course — but sometimes the two of you were so in love it was basically a public service announcement, and he had no choice but to play third wheel.
"Finally home, lovebirds," the older man said, his brown eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror.
You gave him a bright smile and a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Thank you, Bill."
The man was practically a Jackson family member himself, and you couldn't help but see him in a fatherly light sometimes. He had a soft spot in your heart.
Michael gave him a quick handshake of thanks through the leather seats before stepping out. He immediately reached back for your hand, helping you out of the car.
The midday heat had softened into something gentler. The air smelled faintly of jasmine blooming nearby.
You walked side by side toward the house when Michael slipped an arm around your waist.
"This has really been one of the best days I've had in a while," he said, looking at you with the most lovesick expression in his eyes. "My beautiful angel."
Something warm spread through your chest at his words, your smile softening as you looked back at him — like you still couldn't quite believe he was real sometimes.
For a moment, his expression only deepened, like he was holding onto that sentence.
He squeezed your waist lightly before letting go as the front door came into view. He opened it slowly, and you both stepped inside.
Thankfully, most of the family members were out. The lack of cars outside confirmed it — except for a few.
Your suspicions were confirmed the moment loud commotion drifted in from the kitchen. You exchanged a quick look with Michael.
Ah yes — the sweet-talk trio.
Michael had always appreciated how much you liked his family, and they liked you just as much. But whenever even one of them was around — or all three together — it never took long before the teasing started. Words like foxy, sultry, and trouble were thrown around far too easily, always followed by jokes about how Michael had somehow "managed to land you" of all people.
Michael hated it more than he'd ever admit. Not because they were trying to be cruel — but because it always stirred something uncomfortable inside him. There was a trace of insecurity there, quiet and unspoken. Like he couldn't quite believe you were real — or that someone like you had chosen him at all.
You noticed it, even if he never said it aloud.
That's why you always called him pet names like pretty boy or angel face. Because to you, he wasn't just talent and charm and mystery — he was beauty itself. Soft. Rare. Irreplaceable. You just wished he could see it as easily as you did.
You walked into the kitchen hand in hand.
You were wearing a tiny denim halter dress that left little to the imagination, a gold pendant resting at your chest with a delicate "M" engraved into it — a gift from him, of course. On your feet were your wooden platform clogs, adding to your sun-drenched, effortless look. You looked like you had stepped straight out of a magazine.
Michael, however, could only look at you in awe — and slight nervousness. He already knew what was coming.
As soon as you rounded the corner, the three of them were there — Jackie, Marlon, and Jermaine sprawled around the kitchen island, lazily tossing a tiny basketball back and forth between them before they noticed the two of you.
Jackie spotted you first and let out a low whistle.
"Well, damn," he grinned, giving you a quick once-over. "Mike really let you leave the house dressed like that? Man's braver than me."
You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Ew."
Marlon immediately burst out laughing.
The flirting never really fazed you. They were Michael's brothers before they were anything else, and the idea of entertaining them like that was honestly almost funny to you. Besides, you knew it was all playful — none of them actually expected anything from it, and if anyone ever crossed a line, you would've made yourself perfectly clear.
Marlon laughed at your reaction, spinning the basketball on one finger before pointing toward the gold pendant around your neck.
"You see that 'M' around her neck, Jackie?" he said. "You ain't got a chance, brother." Then he looked at you with an exaggerated grin. "But me, however…" He placed a hand against his chest dramatically. "Now that's a different story, sweetheart."
You snorted. "Yeah right, Marlon."
Laughing softly, you tossed the beach towel in your hand at him, earning a loud cackle from the kitchen.
Michael, meanwhile, let out a long sigh. "Are y'all done now?" he muttered, already making his way toward the fridge.
Before anyone could answer, Jermaine cut in immediately, like he'd been waiting for his turn all along. He leaned back against the counter with a smirk.
"She trouble in that dress," he said casually. "Legs for days, all sun-kissed and pretty… got Mikey all lovesick." Michael shut the fridge door harder than necessary. Jermaine only grinned wider. "Bet he spent all day rubbin' sunscreen on your back and feedin' you grapes."
"Oh my God," you groaned, covering your face briefly. "You're just jealous he actually has somebody to rub sunscreen on."
The kitchen immediately erupted into loud whistles and dramatic "ooohs." Marlon nearly doubled over laughing while Jackie pointed at Jermaine like he'd just lost an argument.
You caught the small, half-proud smile tugging at Michael's lips before he reached for your hand again, pulling you closer against his side.
Jermaine noticed instantly. "Man, look at him," he laughed. "Holdin' her hand immediately like she gon' disappear." Michael's grip tightened slightly. "Our baby brother gone soft."
"Jermaine," Jackie warned through a grin.
But Jermaine kept going anyway. "You better keep an eye on her dressed like that, Mikey. Leave her alone for one second and somebody gon' steal her."
The kitchen went a little quieter after that. Marlon's grin faltered. Jackie shot Jermaine a look.
"I'm not soft," he snapped suddenly, voice sharper than before. "And y'all need to stop."
Marlon raised both hands innocently, already laughing again. "Ooh, he mad now."
Michael dropped your hand, cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment and irritation, before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen without another word. His footsteps disappeared quickly down the hallway.
Your expression immediately fell. "Mikey — come on…"
Usually, the teasing was harmless, mainly done to get a reaction out of Michael more than anything else. And you always reminded him of the same thing: no one could ever steal you away from him. Still, you knew his brothers could be knuckleheads sometimes — and this time they'd pushed too far.
You slowly turned back toward the trio, disappointment written clearly across your face.
"I expected better from y'all," you said firmly, pointing directly at Marlon. "Especially you."
Before Jermaine could even defend himself, you launched the cold water bottle in your hand straight at him.
"That's assault!" Jermaine shouted between laughs, jerking his head out of the way just before the bottle flew past him.
You ignored him completely, already hurrying down the hallway after your poor boyfriend.
A loud bedroom door slam echoed upstairs.
You quickly made your way up the staircase before turning toward his room, a small breath leaving you as you pushed the door open.
Michael was sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. Visibly upset.
He didn't answer at first. The teasing had gotten to him more than usual, stirring up all those quiet insecurities he always tried to bury.
You slowly approached him before stopping directly in front of where he sat. From this angle, you almost towered over him slightly. Gently, you reached down and held his colder cheek in your warmer hand, slowly rubbing circles across it.
"Hey," you said softly. "Talk to me."
Michael let out a frustrated breath. "They always do this."
You brushed your thumb across his cheek. "I know."
His gaze dropped to the floor. For a moment, he seemed unsure whether he wanted to say the next part out loud. Then he did.
"Sometimes I think they're right."
Your heart squeezed. "About what?"
Michael swallowed. "About you being too good for me."
The confession came out so quietly it almost hurt to hear. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head like he already regretted saying it out loud.
"I mean… I see the way people look at you," he added softly. "You could have anybody. Anyone would be lucky to have you." He swallowed again. "I just… don't know why you picked me."
You immediately shook your head. "Oh, angel face."
His eyes finally lifted to yours.
"Michael, do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"
A weak laugh escaped him. "I'm serious."
You threaded your fingers through his curls. "You're talented, kind, thoughtful, hardworking, beautiful — and somehow you still act surprised that I love you."
A faint blush spread across his cheeks. You smiled.
"Trust me, pretty boy. If anybody's lucky here, it's me."
The blush deepened immediately. He looked at you for a second longer than before, like he was trying to hold onto what you said.
Then you grinned. "Aaaand…" you continued, giving one of his curls a gentle tug and earning a quiet little huff from him, "you've got this wonderful singing voice, this crazy passion for everything you love, and the foxiest lady completely devoted to you."
"Aaaand…" you teased again as his face turned even redder, "one flash of that smile and I melt like ice cream in the sun."
"Baby…" he groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
You couldn't help but laugh with him, gently straddling his lap. You peeled his hands away from his flushed cheeks and cupped his face with both of yours, thumbs stroking tenderly.
"You're so pretty, Mikey," you murmured, affection thick in your voice. "You're mine… and I'm all yours."
Michael's breath hitched. The frustration in his eyes melted into something warmer, hungrier. He looked up at you like you were God's own gift — sun-kissed and glowing, somehow all his.
"You really mean that?" he whispered, voice low and rough around the edges.
You held his gaze for a moment longer, watching the way he seemed to soften under your words. Then you traced your thumb across his lower lip before slipping it gently into the warmth of his mouth.
He closed his eyes and sucked softly, almost in awe, his tongue brushing the glossy red of your nail. A faint flush rose to his cheeks almost immediately, his breath catching slightly as he looked at you again.
"And you know what, Mikey…?" you continued, voice dropping sweetly.
His lashes fluttered as he met your gaze, still a little dazed, before giving a slow shake of his head.
"I think you've been such a good boy today," you murmured, voice soft and steady. "Taking me to the beach… treating me like I'm heavenly and divine… and being so patient when your brothers tried to rile you up." A small pause. "I think you oughta be rewarded."
A soft hum vibrated against your thumb. You slowly pulled it from his lips with a quiet pop.
Michael let out a shaky exhale, already shifting beneath you like he couldn't wait another second.
You climbed off his lap, and he moved to follow like an eager puppy. Before he could fully stand, you placed a gentle hand on his chest and pushed him back down onto the bed, your fingers splayed warmly over his skin. His breath hitched at the contact.
"Uh uh, not yet, pretty boy," you murmured, smiling down at him. "You gotta watch me undress first."
"O-okay…" he whimpered, eyes wide and hazy with want as he stayed right where you put him.
You slipped off your chunky wooden clogs first, the illusion of being as tall as your boyfriend cracking immediately. Your red-manicured toes — matching your fingers — sank into the soft carpet. Michael watched with parted lips and that same reverent hunger, anticipation curling warmly in his stomach.
You reached behind your neck and untied the thick denim straps of your halter dress, then slowly peeled it down your body. As the fabric slipped over your chest, the cute polka-dot bikini came into view. Michael's breath caught sharply. You saw the way his swim trunks tented, his hand twitching desperately in his lap like he was aching for relief. A quiet, needy sound escaped him as he palmed himself through the thin fabric.
You paused with the dress right above your navel, giving him a teasing little pout.
"Angel… please," he breathed, looking absolutely devastated.
"That wasn't very good, was it, Mikey? I didn't say you could touch."
He could only stare at you in awe, eyes wide and shining with want.
You stepped closer, nearly between his spread knees, then continued sliding the dress down your hips until it pooled at your feet. You bent slowly to step out of it, your chest dipping right into his eye line, the delicate gold "M" pendant gleaming between your breasts in the golden sunlight.
As you straightened up again, you slowly reached behind your back and began untying the bikini top. You were so close to him now, barely inches away — close enough to hear the way he gulped.
No matter how many times you'd been intimate, Michael always reacted like this — like it was the first time he was seeing you bare, like he was falling in love with you all over again right in front of your eyes.
The bikini top slipped from your fingers and landed with a quiet thud on the floor. Michael's eyes were wide, dark with hunger and awe, drinking in the sight of you like you were something sacred.
He reached out with trembling hands, gently grasping the sides of your thighs before pressing his forehead against your stomach, breathing you in like he needed you to survive.
You couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped you. You threaded your fingers through his damp curls, tilting his face up gently.
"Wanna help me with the last piece, pretty boy?" you asked, voice low and sultry.
He looked up at you with the most loving, hungry expression — those big doe eyes full of adoration and want — and nodded almost shyly. "Y-yes," he breathed.
You guided his hands to the ties at your hips. His fingers were shaky with anticipation as he fumbled with the strings, but he eventually managed to pull them loose. The bikini bottoms slid down your legs and pooled at your feet, leaving you completely bare before him.
For a moment, Michael just stared, lips parted, like he couldn't quite believe his luck.
You gave him a soft, teasing smile before turning and walking slowly toward the bathroom, hips swaying gently. You paused at the doorway and glanced back over your shoulder with a playful pout.
"What? Aren't you gonna join me?"
You didn't wait for an answer — just stepped into the bathroom at a light, teasing pace and slipped into the shower, turning the water on and letting the warm spray fill the space with steam.
Behind you, you heard Michael scrambling to his feet, nearly tripping in his hurry. Clothes were shed in a clumsy rush, and then the shower curtain was yanked open. He stepped in without hesitation, pulling you into a hungry kiss the second the water hit his skin.
Your back met the cool tile wall as his body pressed against yours. You could feel how hard he was, flushed and aching, pressed warmly against your stomach. Heat pooled between your thighs at the contact.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his wet curls as the hot water cascaded over both of you, drenching your hair and turning your curls into heavy, dripping strands.
Michael moaned softly into your mouth before trailing desperate, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your neck, like he couldn't get enough of you.
His hands slid down your body with that familiar mix of shyness and hunger, reverent even now. One slipped between your thighs, and you gasped as his long fingers gently stroked through your folds, teasing with careful devotion.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered against your neck, voice husky and full of awe, barely rising above the rush of water. "So wet already… I can't believe you're mine."
He eased one finger inside you, then another, curling them slowly while his thumb found your clit and began rubbing in gentle, devoted circles. Your hips bucked into his hand, and he let out a soft, shaky breath against your skin, pressing his forehead to your shoulder like he needed the contact to stay grounded.
"It's only you that makes me feel like this, Mikey…" you moaned, voice trembling. "The only ever."
He pulled back just enough to look at you. The warm water had flushed his face a deep rose, droplets clinging to his lashes and tracing luminous paths down his cheeks and jaw. In the soft golden light filtering into the shower, he looked almost ethereal — those wide brown eyes dark with want, his curls plastered wet against his forehead.
A slow, gorgeous smile broke across his face before you pulled him into a desperate kiss.
Every time you got close like this, the shy boy who blushed at the mere thought of intimacy seemed to melt away. In his place was someone bolder, more confident — someone not afraid to use his words and tell you exactly how much he wanted you. It never failed to make your knees weak.
"God, baby… you feel so perfect," he murmured through the kisses as his fingers pumped deeper, steadier. "So warm and tight around my fingers… My beautiful angel. Look at you, taking me so well."
You could only moan into his mouth, biting gently at his lower lip as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. His thumb circled your clit with more pressure now — steady, relentless — while his fingers curled just right against that perfect spot inside you. The contrast between the quiet, blushing Michael everyone else saw and this version of him, here in the steam and golden light, sent heat flooding through your entire body.
"You're so gorgeous like this," he breathed, voice thick with emotion. "Moaning for me… all mine."
The pleasure built slowly, deliciously, your moans echoing softly against the tiled walls. But right before you tipped over the edge, you reached down and gently grabbed his wrist, stilling his hand.
Michael pulled back, breathing hard, eyes hazy with lust but flickering with that familiar thread of worry. The careful, gentlemanly side of him always surfaced at moments like this.
"Did I do something wrong, baby?" he asked softly, voice rough but tender.
You shook your head, still catching your breath. Without another word, you turned slowly in his arms and pressed your front against the cool tile wall. You arched your back and pushed back against him, feeling his hard cock nestle hot and heavy between your cheeks.
Glancing over your shoulder, voice needy and breathless, you said, "I need you so bad, Mikey… Please fuck me like this. From behind."
You could feel his heart hammering wildly against your back. His wide eyes went even wider — like a deer caught in headlights — surprise and desire warring across his flushed face. Even now, with the water streaming down his body and his obvious need throbbing against you, he hesitated. Always the gentleman, always worried you might feel like you had to do something bolder just for him.
"W-what…?" he stammered, hands settling lightly on your hips as if afraid to grip too tight. "Baby, you don't have to… I mean, if you want me to see your face —"
"Please, baby," you whispered, pushing back against him again, slow and deliberate. "I want you like this. I want to feel you deep."
That finally seemed to sink in. Michael let out a shaky exhale, almost a whimper, his breath warm against your wet shoulder.
"Oh lord… You're gonna be the death of me, pretty lady."
His voice was thick with both awe and lingering shyness, but his hands tightened on your hips with newfound, if still slightly tentative, confidence. A soft giggle escaped you, melting quickly into a moan as the thick head of his cock brushed against your slick folds, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes while his breathing grew heavier against your skin.
Then he finally pushed in — slow, steady, and so deep you moaned into the cool tile. He stilled once he was fully seated, chest pressed flush to your back, clearly fighting for control. The feeling of him buried so deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely, made your head spin.
His hips began to move in deep, rolling thrusts — intimate, controlled, each one pressing right where you needed him most. Every push pulled soft, needy sounds from your throat as the steamy air danced across your bodies and the running water murmured steadily in the background.
All the while, he trailed tender, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and the curve of your neck — sweet and worshipful even as his thrusts grew deeper. Like he couldn't stop himself from loving you gently, even in the middle of this.
He angled his hips just right and stroked that sweet, devastating spot inside you again and again. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core.
You were breathless. The words spilled out raw and needy. "Mikey… please," you moaned, pushing back to meet his deep thrusts. "Fill me up… I want you to come inside me."
Michael's rhythm faltered for a moment, a shaky groan leaving him as his lips pressed another lingering kiss to your wet shoulder. You felt his cheeks burn hot against your skin.
"Y-yeah?" he breathed, voice husky and a little shy even as his hips started moving faster, driving deeper with every stroke. The words tumbled out suddenly, unfiltered. "You want me to put a baby in you, angel? Right here?"
He panicked for half a second after saying it — but your frantic nod chased the worry away.
"Please… I want it. I want you to fill me up."
He cursed softly under his breath — a rare, rough sound that sent chills racing down your spine. You'd never heard anything like that from his mouth before. He buried his face in your neck, trailing more kisses there as his thrusts grew more desperate, deep and purposeful, like he was determined to give you exactly what you'd asked for.
His hands tightened on your waist, one sliding down over your stomach and up the front of your body before carefully, gently pressing against your throat — not squeezing, just holding you close and steady. The other wandered lower, finding your clit and rubbing fast but controlled circles against your sensitive nub.
"Then take it, sweetheart," he whispered hotly against your ear between kisses, trembling. "Take everything I give you…"
The bold words, the steady deep rhythm of him pumping inside you, his skilled fingers, and those sweet lingering kisses along your shoulder all combined to pull loud moans from your throat. You couldn't hold them back, and neither of you cared if the rest of the house could hear. Secretly, Michael seemed to like it — the way you fell apart so loudly for him, proof that only he could make you feel like this.
Pleasure crashed over you first, deep and shuddering. Your body tightened around him as you moaned his name, waves of it rolling through you. Michael followed right after with a broken, shy groan, pressing as deep as he could go while he spilled inside you, giving you everything you'd begged for. He held you close, trembling against your back, still pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as the water continued to rain down warmly over you both.
After a long, hazy moment, he eased out of you carefully and turned you in his arms, pulling you against his wet chest. His chin rested on top of your head while his big hands stroked slow, sweet circles down your back.
"You okay, angel face?" he asked gently, voice hoarse and full of tender concern.
"More than okay," you whispered, smiling against his skin.
He pulled you into a tighter hug, holding you like you were something precious, then kissed you softly. One hand came up to stroke your cheek in gentle circles. His eyes met yours, warm and full of quiet wonder.
"I love you so much, my sweet girl."
You grinned up at him. "I love you, pretty boy."
You both laughed softly, the sound echoing lightly in the steamy shower. The mood shifted back to something sweet and playful as you continued washing each other — rubbing shampoo into his curls, him carefully running soapy hands over your sun-kissed skin, gently rinsing away the last traces of the beach day.
Before long, you couldn't resist. "I don't think you're gonna be hearing any more teasing or flirting from them for a long time now."
Michael let out an embarrassed laugh, cheeks burning hot again as understanding dawned. "Oh god…"
You just smiled back at him with a big grin, feeling warm and content.
This really had been one of the best days in a long while.
