jaafar jackson’s muse

to portray his uncle, much more than facial resemblance is required. the dance is what is going to tell everything; that's the reason that every day he spends more than 18 hours dancing in front of mirrors.

it's his first time seeing you.

when you open the door, he's surprised. you're beautiful—and you're dressed like a ballerina. not with a leotard and a tutu; you're wearing yoga leggings and leg warmers even though it's not that cold.

you smile at him. you have a pretty smile. you introduce yourself to him. his body has an immediate reaction when he hears your voice: a shiver goes down his spine, and his heart skips a beat.

"nice to meet you too. i'm jaafar."

"i know who you are. i'm sorry for being late. i think we can start with a relevé, what do you think?"

"no problem, ma'am."

you see him every tuesday.

but the fourth tuesday you see him is, for some reason, different. he's waiting for you with an iced caramel latte. it's not your favorite drink, but you still gladly accept.

jaafar is gentle in many ways: when he opens the door and lets you pass first, or when he asks you about how you spent your weekend. you convince yourself that he acts like this with everyone.

"did you like your coffee?"

"i did, thank you. are you enjoying our classes? i mean, i hope i'm not being too harsh on you..."

"no, it's totally fine—being honest with you...i'm not a ballet guy, you know. but michael was, and now i'm just trying my best with everything: the jazz classes, the hip hop classes...all of them."

you admire how jaafar is so determined to make the movie happen—his eyes linger on you. but not in a creepy way; you feel as if he is trying to unveil your soul.

it's overwhelming having all his attention on you; it burns you inside. that glance is what compels you to say:

"you're special, jaafar...in many ways. shall we start? today i want you to spin and spin as much as you can."

since he brought you coffee, you have started to be more open with him—it's not that jaafar has a crush on you.

alright.

maybe he has a little crush on you. otherwise, he wouldn't feel like a teenager every time you touch him.

but it's inevitable, when you're so sweet.

or when you pay attention to whether he's doing the spins right; the way you tilt your head if he fails to find his center. it's not like you're doing it on purpose; you're just being yourself, so charming.

today is no different.

he's warming up in the dance room while he waits for you to arrive.

you look stunning when you open the door; he feels like every time he sees you walking through that door, the urge to have you to himself grows stronger.

you're talking on the phone. your voice is quiet, almost like a whisper, but he still can understand what you're saying.

something about meeting someone...

and you finish the call saying, "goodbye, baby."

he is almost freaking out—because the thought of having a crush on a girl who is in a relationship and is his ballet teacher is totally fucked up.

and so unfair. because that means that the tension he felt was unilateral; you literally said that he was special. well, maybe you just meant special. and nothing more.

he pretends he's okay.

he can't find his center, no matter how many times you say to him that the secret is in the balance, not the force. he keeps replaying the memory of you calling someone other than him baby.

he could be your baby.

the next spin he does ends with him on the floor. his whole body is in pain: his feet, his knees. he wants to throw it all away—but you go abruptly to his side.

you don't know what happened to him; it's the first time he has fallen down in such a way. you're worried. you moisten your lips as you reach for his hands—they are soft, warm, and big. he doesn't look at you for a moment.

you just stay there with your fingers interlocking with his, and for a while, everything slows down.

the earth stops orbiting.

you stop breathing.

it's just you and him. you have no idea how much time has passed before he finally says something. he holds your hand tighter than ever, and he starts to get too close to you.

too close, in a way that you can feel his fresh breath, and you smell his intoxicating fragrance. and now, all you can think about is jaafar.

your thoughts are all on him; he's all on you.

"i just need to know one thing. are you with someone?"

"jaafar? n—no."

before you can complete your answer, his warm hands are now on your chin, and then you feel his lips pressing against yours. it's too good to be true. his hands run all over your body, leaving you in ecstasy. he presses closely against you, his tongue travels in your mouth—he bites your lower lip—and you breathe sharply.

fuck, it's too good.

the way he touches you, the way your body reacts to his. you're drowning in his arms; when he finishes kissing you—you're still dizzy and your legs are like jelly. thank god he's still holding you so firmly.

his voice is deeper, as if he had run a marathon; he's staring at you intensely, and you're melting every time he gently rubs your back with his hands.

"i have wanted to do this since the first time i saw you entering through that door."

"really?"

"really, baby. and i think now you have more things to teach me than ballet." you roll your eyes, and while he gives a sweet laugh, you gently smack his lips with yours.

"yeah, maybe i can teach a few things that aren't about spinning, mr. jackson."

1971- Encino: Los Angeles, California

7:32 PM

Dinner had just ended. Your eldest sister cleared the table as everyone began to settle down, preparing for tomorrow.

You were the youngest of 7 kids, 4 sisters and 2 brothers. You and your sisters are models. Representation– familiar faces from billboards, to ads, movies. Your family was definitely a household name. But behind closed doors, safe to say you were definitely the princess of the house.

“Alright you two,” your mother smiles down at you and your twin brother. “You two go get ready for school tomorrow. I’ll tuck you in after cleaning this up.”

You both finish up your juice and give the cups to your mom.

“Goodnight daddy,” you say softly as you kiss him on the cheek. “Night-Night my Angel.”

Just as you were going upstairs to your room, you overhear your parents talking below you.

“Jackson’s huh,” you heard from your father, “living next to us? What’s the possibility?” 

“Well baby,” your mother says, “they are rising stars and you know–California has a lot of opportunities for them.”

“Plus,” she smiles, “s’nice to have another mother who understands having gifted children.”

Your father quickly kisses her forehead before heading to their bedroom, “I know honey.”

Next Day 

4:57 PM

You hear three soft knocks to your bedroom door.

“Babygirl,” your mother comes in. “Do you want to go over to the jackson’s n’ give em’ these cookie’s momma made?”

You nod, “Just us?”

“Just us, Sugar.” Hearing that, you quickly mark the page you left off in your Disney’s Cinderella book. There was no purpose of that, you’ve read that same book a million times already.

You slip on your pink shoes, fluff out your dress and make your way outside.

“Hey sweet thing, you ready?” She reaches her hand out to you.

You take her hand and she mumbles to your drivers that you guys are quickly going down the road to greet the new 

neighbors.

You and your mother walk for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, you arrive at their gate. Immediately, it feels like there’s a million and one things going on. 

There’s people all outside the house, workers maybe. 

BUZZ

*Hello? Can I help you?* A tender voice acknowledging the two of you.

“Hi,” your mother says eagerly. “We–uh we are your neighbors, right down the street.”

For a second there was nothing.

“Just brought some treats and wanted to introduce myself,” your mother added.

*Oh, of course. Give me just a second.* The intercom clicked off. 

“Momma, what if they don’t want visitors right now?” you whispered. The weight of the tin full of cookies shifted in your mothers hands. Your mother then shot you a look.

“Babygirl, if somebody walked all the way down our driveway with homemade cookies, would I turn them away?” You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

“Exactly,” your mom responded smugishly.

 A low mechanical hum sounded from somewhere ahead. The large iron gates slowly began to open. Instinctively, you stepped a little closer to your mother.

As the gates parted, the property seemed even bigger than before. Men carried boxes in and out of the house while others unloaded furniture from trucks parked along the circular driveway.

“They’re still moving in,” your mother murmured. Before either of you could take another step, the front door opened. A woman emerged onto the porch. She wore a warm smile despite the obvious chaos surrounding her. 

The moment she spotted the cookies, her shoulders relaxed. “Hello there,” she greeted. Your mother smiled back immediately. “Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt. We live right down the road and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” The woman made her way down the steps toward the gate. “I’m Katherine.”

 “It’s lovely to meet you, Katherine.” The two women exchanged introductions before your mother lifted the cookie tin. “I baked these this morning.”

Katherine placed a hand over her heart. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.” A laugh escaped her.

“I don’t think we’ve cooked a proper meal in two days.” The adults shared a knowing smile. Then Katherine’s attention drifted downward. “And who is this pretty girl?”

You suddenly found the toes of your shoes very interesting. Your mother gently nudged your shoulder. “Go on, sugar.”

You looked up. “Hi.” 

Katherine’s smile widened.“Well, hello, sweetheart.”

A voice suddenly called from somewhere inside the house. “Mama!” You glanced toward the front door. A skinny boy with curious dark eyes appeared in the doorway. He couldn’t have been much older than you. The second he noticed strangers standing by the gate, he stopped. For a moment, neither of you looked away.

Katherine turned around. “Michael, come say hello.” The boy hesitated. 

Then slowly, he started down the front steps.

1980

That was 9 years ago.

You and Michael ended up attached by the hip.

You were different to him, someone finally genuine.

Everyone around him wanted something from him. You don’t. Because of that, Michael naturally gravitated towards you.

He’d just finished and released ‘Off the wall,’ his first solo album.

This was huge, he was separating himself from his brothers.

But to Michael, the bigger he became globally, the more important your friendship became to one another.

Whether it was sneaking out of rehearsals early just to lay in the park with you. Or staying on the phone with him, till dawn. Just listening to each other. Neither of you wanted to hang up first.

“Girllll, you would never believe what these paparazzi were saying–just to try to get weird information out of me,” He would often say with the biggest smile on his face. 

Or you would call him right after your two hour long practice, “Mikey, I cannot with this coach. How am I supposed to be captain and she won’t even allow me to lead the team properly.”

Michael chuckles, “sounds like college isn’t as fun as you thought it was gonna be, huh?”

You roll your eyes, “I should be on the road, singing like you are. All the girls do over here is just talk about you.”

“I’m flattered,” he snorts. “Make sure you tell them I'm available, always looking for some good fish.”

“Boy, you crazy.” You scoff as your smile increases.

1984 

Michael’s career skyrocketed like no other. He was huge, his face was everywhere. His name was everything.

It no longer hurt or surprised you when he began to miss birthdays or complain when he disappeared for months on end.

You understood his life in a way very few people did.

 You were busy yourself–shoots for Vogue, featuring in music videos, guest starring in movies or popular sitcoms. You were the face of the 80’s. You were booming and living up to your title of a “trendsetter.” 

The both of you were still close despite the busy schedule, he’d sometimes call from all over the world. Waking you up just to hear a familiar voice, or to get an opinion on an adlib or lyric he feels doesn’t fit.

Everyone around him knows that your opinion genuinely matters to him. You were his best friend after all, the only friend that’s been consistent even throughout his troubled times. You know why he canceled plans, why he sometimes disappears into recording studios for days. And because you never pressured him, he always knew to come back.

Seeing your status and relationships, everyone wanted to be like you–especially when they saw you on Michael’s arm.

After the Grammys: 1984

Micheal had just won eight grammys at the 26th annual Grammy Awards. The entire world is celebrating him, interviews, paparazzi everywhere, endless camera flashes. This was the win of the century.

But somehow, he still ended up in your hotel room. Shoes kicked off, his custom jacket hung neatly on the door. The high of all his wins linger in the air. Somehow it felt like you had won all those grammys too.

“Did I already tell you how proud I am of you?” you questioned for the eighth time. 

“Yes,” he giggled. “But I'm not opposed to hearing it all night long.” You snicker and throw your pillow at him. 

“What girl!” Michael proclaimed. “Don’t get cocky, you’re still my applehead.” He acknowledged that with a hm. 

“Hey,” he pauses for a moment. “Let’s do something crazy right now.” “Crazy? Like what,” you questioned your best friend.

He smiles suspiciously, “call your private jet–let’s go abroad.”

“Michael,” you shake your head. “We literally can’t.”

“Why not! C’mon let’s do something…spontaneous,” He tries to convince you.

“Mikey–” 

“Please?” He urges.

“Fine. Fine. Fine.” You start dialing the number to your assistant. “Where do you wanna go,” you glance at your friend.

“Spain.”

Eleven hours felt like eleven years. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

Why would you agree to this? You guys had nothing but the clothes on your backs. When he said spontaneous, maybe you thought disney or universal. Not Spain–but can you complain? You agreed.

The built-in television screen plays your favorite cartoons. Michael completely tuned in, laughing at every joke, in disbelief at every sad moment. You couldn’t think straight anymore.

“Michael,” he doesn’t notice that you called for him. “Michael Joseph Jackson!”

“What is it girl? Jeez loosen up a bit, will ya?”

“Mike what are we supposed to do,” you whisper. “We have nothing.”

“Chill out, I got you.”

“Mich–” he cuts you off. Michael finally looks at you, “Don’t you trust me?”

You roll your eyes and sit back into your chair. There was nothing you could do anymore. You folded your arms and turned toward the window.

Below, the city lights had long since disappeared beneath a blanket of clouds. The cabin had grown quiet. Most of the crew had disappeared to the front of the jet, leaving the two of you alone. 

For the first time all night, Michael wasn’t talking. That should’ve worried you. Slowly, you glanced over.

His eyes remained fixed on the cartoon playing on the television screen, but he wasn’t really watching anymore. His smile had faded. The excitement from the Grammys. It all seemed miles away now. 

“You okay?” you asked quietly. Michael blinked before looking over at you. “Hm?” 

“You got awfully quiet.” For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”

You narrowed your eyes. A laugh escaped him.

 “What?” 

“You’ve been running on two hours of sleep since Tuesday. You’re exhausted, not tired.” 

“Is there a difference?” “To normal people? No.” 

Michael grinned. “Good thing I’m not normal.” You groaned. “There he is.”

The laugh that left him this time sounded genuine. For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. Then he leaned back in his seat. “You know what’s crazy?” 

“What?” 

He paused,“everybody wanted a piece of me tonight.” You looked over.

His voice had softened. “The reporters.”

He ticked one finger. “The record executives.”

Another finger. “The photographers.”

Another. “The fans.”

His hand dropped into his lap.

“Everybody.” The cabin fell silent.

“But when I left…” A small smile appeared on his face. “I only wanted to see you.” Suddenly, the plane felt a lot smaller.

Your stomach flipped, Michael didn’t seem to notice.

Because instead of looking at the television, he was looking directly at you. “That’s why I came to your room.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re the only place that still feels normal.”

“You know,” Michael says.

“Hm?”

“When we’re eighty, we’re still gonna be doing stupid stuff like this.” 

You laugh.“Eighty?”

“Maybe ninety.” “Bold of you to assume I won’t be sick of you by then.” Michael gasps dramatically. “See? This is why I can’t take you anywhere.” 

You smile and lean your head against his shoulder. “Good thing you’re stuck with me.” 

“Forever, applehead.”

"now, michael, the world was completely shocked," oprah began, her voice dripping with that familiar, intense gravity as she looked between the two of you on the yellow sofa. "no announcement, no big wedding. just a sudden trip to the caribbean. people are asking... why the secrecy? what is there to hide?"

michael offered a tight, polite smile, adjusting the cuff of his black jacket. "we just wanted something for us, oprah. my life is so public. i wanted the most important day of my life to be private. between me, my beautiful wife, and god."

oprah shifted her gaze to you, her eyes narrowing with professional curiosity. "but you see, the public is skeptical. they look at a regular girl marrying the biggest superstar on earth, and the word 'financial gain' inevitably comes up. how do you respond to the critics who say you're just in this for the money and the lifestyle?"

the question felt like a slap, but you kept your posture straight, swallowing the lump of anger in your throat. before you could speak, oprah turned back to michael, pivoting without a breath.

"and michael, there have been rumors for years regarding your personal life. your innocence. some tabloids are even questioning the consummation of this marriage, wondering about your virginity prior to this wedding. is this a real marriage in every sense of the word?"

you felt the air shift next to you. michael’s frame went rigid. his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle twitch, and his chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths. he stared at oprah, his usual gentle demeanor completely vanishing, replaced by a cold, visible irritation. he was a proud man, and having his intimacy and his wife’s integrity questioned on global television was pushing him to his limit.

sensing the storm brewing, you reached across the small space between you and slid your hand into his.

your fingers laced through his large, warm hand, pressing your palm firmly against his. the moment your skin met his, you felt a tremor run through him. you gave his hand a reassuring, grounding squeeze.

“you know what i would tell the tabloids and the fans, oprah? i would tell them that parasocial relationships are unhealthy and obsessive. whether michael, my husband, and i consummated our marriage isn’t your business or anyone else’s. have i asked what you and your husband do in the bedroom?”

you didn’t give her a chance to respond before continuing:

“no oprah, i don’t ask. because i don’t know you and you don’t know me. nor do you know michael. you know michael jackson, “the flashy, king of pop”. but you don’t know michael. the real michael. none of you do. so, you can pretend to care about his wellbeing and his mental health all you want, but if you really knew what was best for him, you would stop assisting the public in spreading these lies and rumors.”

"well, we'll be right back after a quick commercial break," oprah said, catching the tension and looking directly into the camera.

the red light on the main camera blinked off. floor managers instantly began moving around the set, adjusting lights and checking audio cords, creating a wall of ambient noise around the couch.

michael immediately dropped his head, his curls falling over his face as he let out a sharp, angry breath. "i shouldn't have agreed to this," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. "she has no right. to ask you those things... to talk about us like we're a circus act..."

you shifted closer to him on the sofa, ignoring the crew buzzing around you. you used your free hand to gently cup his face, turning his head so his dark, liquid eyes had to meet yours.

"hey," you said softly, your voice a sweet, calm anchor in the middle of the chaotic studio. "look at me, lovey."

he looked at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, filled with the frustration of a man who felt constantly misunderstood by the world.

"i can handle anything they throw at us," you told him, offering a small, fearless smile. "let her ask her wild questions. it doesn't change what we have. it doesn't change what happened on that beach and it damn sure doesn’t change how i feel about you.”

michael swallowed hard, his face softening just a fraction under your touch. "she's trying to make it look like you don't love me. like you're using me."

"let them think whatever they want," you whispered, leaning in a little closer so only he could hear. "i am sitting on this couch, in front of millions of people, for one reason only. because i love you. i'm doing this for you, okay? we're a team. they can't get to us unless we let them."

michael closed his eyes for a brief second, breathing in your scent, letting your words settle the roaring in his chest. when he opened them, the tense, angry edge was gone, replaced by a quiet, fierce devotion. he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

"i love you too," he murmured, his voice steady now.

"let's tilt your chin just a fraction to the left when the camera tracks past," the director called out during a reset.

before you could even nod, michael was stepping into your line of sight, his fedora tilted low. his eyes searched yours, deeply serious but glowing with appreciation. "just a tiny bit, applehead. let the light catch your cheekbone right there. it’s going to look beautiful on you," he murmured, his voice a low, focused rumble.

"you got it, mikey," you whispered back, offering a reassuring smile.

any tweak, any minor adjustment, any note the production crew or michael gave you, you executed it flawlessly. if they needed another take to get the smoke effects just right, you stood your ground, keeping your energy high for him. you wanted to be the easiest, most supportive part of his day.

hours bled into each other until finally, the director’s voice boomed through the speakers: "and that is a wrap! thank you, everyone!"

the tension instantly evaporated from the room. before the applause even died down, michael was moving toward you. the intense, serious director-mind vanished, replaced instantly by the soft, warm husband you knew best.

he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and burying his face in the crook of your neck before pulling back to look at you.

"oh, thank god," he breathed, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across his face. he didn't care who was watching as he began planting warm, feather-light kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, and the tip of your nose. "thank you for this, angel."

the familiar nickname made your cheeks burn from how hard you were smiling, your hands resting against the crisp fabric of his suit jacket.

"take another shot!" your homegirl screamed, clearly way more intoxicated than you.

"absolutely not," you laughed, already holding the red solo cup your soror pressed into your hand anyway.

the entire line burst into laughter, the shared exhaustion of probate season completely washing away under the crisp october sun.

your matching denim outfits were causing a scene all on their own. short, distressed skirts. custom rhinestone-cropped tanks. line names and numbers proudly displayed across your backs in bold, glittering red script.

people were stopping in their tracks just to take pictures. heavy-hitter alumni from decades past were screaming, hyping y'all up and flashing the pyramid. the whole campus seemed to naturally part whenever your line walked through, because everybody knew:

the redz ran the yard.

you were standing near the greek plots, your shoulder pressed against one of your line sisters as the heavy bass from the speakers vibrated straight through the soles of your sneakers. the energy on the yard was already electric, but then the dj suddenly switched songs.

the opening beat hit. instantly.

absolute chaos.

"OH MY GOD!"

"LICK!"

"Y'ALL COME ON! GET IN LINE!"

screams erupted from every single direction. cups nearly went flying into the air as girls scrambled to clear the center. you were already grabbing your sisters by their hips, pulling them into perfect placement before the first verse even started. the crowd's energy doubled in a split second.

your pros quickly began clearing space, forming a human barricade with their arms linked.

"move back!"

"give them room!"

"redz coming through, back up!"

the crowd widened into a massive circle. a sea of phones immediately appeared in the air, screens glowing as everyone recorded. people started chanting the familiar lyrics, dancing to the rhythm of the heavy bass line. and then the stroll started.

you naturally took the front. always had. you were the ace of the line and also, your confidence had a way of pulling people in whether you meant to or not, an effortless magnetism that demanded an audience.

your body moved flawlessly with the beat. slow. controlled. intentional. every single step was perfectly synchronized with the six girls behind you. every sharp snap of your wrists, every fluid roll of your hips matched the cadence of the music. you threw your head back, letting out a sharp, echoed call, synchronized with your sisters that had the crowd absolutely losing their minds.

"okay then!"

"come on ace!"

"y'all better stroll!"

you laughed as you moved, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins. you were completely in your element, riding the high of the heavy bass and the adoration of the yard.

you were completely unaware that someone standing across the yard couldn't take his eyes off you if his life depended on it.

jaafar jackson.

he was tucked back near the edge of the crowd, the freshman who had been quietly struggling to adjust ever since arriving at howard a few months ago.

not because he didn't love the school. he did. he loved the history. the culture. the unapologetic black excellence dripping from every corner of the campus. he loved the traditions. but it was overwhelming. everybody seemed to know everybody. everybody belonged somewhere, firmly rooted in their cliques, their majors, or their organizations.

and after being so sheltered his entire life—growing up under the heavy, watchful lens of his family name—he still felt like he was a floater. he was still trying to figure out where exactly he fit without the weight of his last name doing the talking for him.

but there was one person he'd noticed almost immediately upon stepping foot on campus.

you.

it was impossible not to. you seemed to be everywhere. student government meetings. major campus events. late-night library sessions. community service projects.

everywhere.

people knew your name. professors knew your name, treating you like a peer. upperclassmen respected you. hell, half the returning alumni at the tailgates were stopping you to hug you.

he'd never actually spoken to you. he'd always been too quiet, too careful, lingering in the background while his friends did the loudest talking. but he'd definitely noticed you. especially whenever you walked across campus with that easy, soft smile that seemed to brighten up the entire brick walkway.

and now? now he was standing there, completely captivated, watching you command an entire crowd of hundreds of people without saying a single word. the sun caught the edges of your hair as you moved, and jaafar felt his throat go completely dry.

his friend elbowed him. right in the ribs.

"bro."

jaafar didn't answer. his eyes didn't even blink.

"gang, what are you looking at?”

still nothing.

his eyes remained completely locked on the way you caught the beat, the sharp precision of your movements contrasting with the bright, carefree laugh on your lips.

his friend followed his intense gaze across the circle, before immediately letting out a loud, dramatic groan.

"oh nah."

jaafar blinked, finally snapping out of the trance for a fraction of a second.

"huh?"

"you gone."

"what are you talking about?" jaafar muttered, trying to play it cool as he adjusted the collar of his jacket, though his ears were turning warm.

"you are absolutely gone. the redz got him y'all, pack it up," his friend laughed, shaking his head and calling over a few of the other guys in their group.

jaafar didn't even defend himself. he just looked straight back toward the center of the circle, completely drawn in again.

you were smiling. laughing with your line sisters as you continued to stroll to the song, your skin glowing, looking completely radiant beneath the golden afternoon sun.

then you ended up coming his way. you were in front of him and his friends now. and he could not look away.

you glanced at the sea of bodies, screaming students, and raised phone cameras, your eyes met his.

everything around him instantly disappeared. the loud bass from the dj booth. the screaming crowd. the overlapping noise of homecoming.

gone.

just you.

looking directly at him.

your movements never stopped. you didn't miss a single step of the choreography. you continued strolling with your line, fluid and perfect.

but there was a new, knowing look in your dark eyes. a sudden spark that wasn't there a second ago.

like you'd caught him.

like you'd known he was watching this entire time.

and then—a smirk.

small. quick. dangerous.

it tugged at the corner of your lips for just a heartbeat before you looked away, tossing your hair over your shoulder and continuing to move down the line as the song faded out.

jaafar's stomach immediately dropped, a sudden, heavy flutter hitting him right in the chest. his heart beat a little too fast against his ribs.

"yeah." his friend sighed dramatically, patting him heavily on the shoulder. "it's over for you."

"man, shut up," jaafar muttered, a reluctant, helpless smile finally breaking across his face as he looked down at his shoes, trying to catch his breath.

his friends laughed, hyping him up and throwing arms around his neck. "he got that look. man, you're cooked."

jaafar smiled and ran a slow hand over his face, his eyes drifting back one last time to where your line was being swarmed by proud alumni. because unfortunately, his friends weren't wrong.

he definitely had that look. the one where logic had completely left the building.

⊹₊⟡⋆

“girl, did you see the way jaafar was looking at you?”

your line sister, rosalie, was halfway through re-curling a section of her hair when she asked the question, the smell of heat protectant and hairspray filling your off-campus apartment.

you glanced up from the bathroom mirror, carefully applying a layer of high-shine lip gloss over your liner, trying to act like your heart didn't do a little flip at his name.

“girl, did you see the way all the niggas was looking?” you teased, popping your lips and turning around to face them with a knowing look on your face.

the room erupted into instantaneous laughter, a couple of your line sisters throwing their heads back against the pillows on the bed.

“i know that’s right!”

“exactly.“ you said, as you dapped her up.

your best friend, chelley, pointed the fluffy tip of her makeup brush directly toward you from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. “no, but seriously. that freshman got it bad. he looked like he forgot how to breathe when we strolled in front of him.”

you rolled your eyes dramatically, though your cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. “girl, please.”

“and i’m already knowing he finna be at the function,” she countered, a knowing smirk on her face. “hey, alexa! play wgft by gunna!”

“girl, hush,” you muttered, biting back a grin as you turned back to the mirror to adjust your earrings. the three of you burst into a chaotic fit of laughter again, the comforting warmth of sisterhood making the room feel alive.

football saturday always felt magical, but tonight was on a completely different level. this was homecoming and the football game had ended with a massive win after being on a losing streak, the stadium had been absolutely electric, and the campus had been packed to maximum capacity all afternoon with tailgates and old friends. now, the nighttime parties were just getting started. and everybody was heading to spades.

by the time your group arrived, the line was wrapped entirely around the block, spilling out into the neon-lit d.c. streets. the deep, heavy thumping of the bass was already vibrating through the thick brick walls of the venue, making the anticipation in your chest grow.

people were dressed to absolute impress. it was a sea of high-heeled boots clacking against the pavement. thigh-high leather. designer matching sets. oversized vintage leather jackets. greeks throwing up their signs under the streetlights. alumni showing out. athletes holding down the front of the line. everybody.

“oh, it’s packed-packed.”

“of course it’s packed. it’s homecoming!” you replied.

you followed closely behind your line sisters as the bouncers unhooked the velvet rope, ushering y'all right past the line. the perk of being the newest redz on campus meant doors opened automatically.

stepping inside, you were immediately hit with a wave of air, colorful lights flashing, and a bass so incredibly loud you could feel it rattling right in your chest. the dance floor was a shoulder-to-shoulder sea of moving bodies. the elevated sections were completely overflowing with bottles of champagne sparkling in the dark. the dj was working overtime, seamless transitions keeping the crowd at a fever pitch.

your friend grabbed your hand tightly, pulling you through the thick of it. “come on, the girls got a spot over here!”

the four of you squeezed tightly through the dancing crowd, sliding past people who were shouting greetings and trying to pull you into their circles.

and almost immediately—jaafar saw you.

he was standing with a tight group of his friends in a section of their own when you walked in. he had been laughing at something one of his boys said, a cup in his hand, looking effortlessly handsome in his jean jacket and his white tee.

but the second he seen you, his entire conversation stopped. mid-sentence. gone.

the sounds of his friends talking, the clinking glasses, the shouting across the booth—he didn’t hear another single word. all he saw was you, looking completely radiant, your hair catching the red glow of the club lights.

his friend followed his frozen, intense gaze down to the main floor, then let out a low chuckle, nudging him. “i’ll be back.”

jaafar didn't even hesitate. he set his cup down on the ledge, already moving his large frame toward the steps of the section.

“where you going, bro?”

he completely ignored him, eyes locked on your position in the crowd.

“jaafar! hold up, gang!”

too late. he was already making his way through the dense crowd, broad shoulders cutting a path through the dancing students. he was completely determined. focused. finally. he was finally going to just walk up and talk to you. buy you a drink. introduce himself properly without the noise of the yard. something. anything to get your attention.

he got about halfway across the floor, close enough to almost call your name, before the dj suddenly switched songs.

instantly, the entire energy of the room shifted.

your sisters eyes widened in pure excitement. “oh my god!”

they were already screaming, their arms instantly shooting into the air.

“come on!”

“let’s go!”

before jaafar could even take another step to reach you, your line sisters had completely surrounded you, locking arms and pushing outward to create a perfect circle. the crowd immediately started moving back willingly, a wave of whispers and hype spreading through the club because everybody knew exactly what was about to happen.

“make room! back up!”

“deltas coming through, give 'em space!”

people practically parted like the red sea, creating a wide opening right in the middle of the packed dance floor. phones instantly appeared in the air, screens glowing brightly as cameras started recording from every angle. the dj turned the volume up until the speakers screeched, and suddenly, all eyes in the building were on you.

you stepped right into the front position, a confident, dazzling grin spreading across your face as the adrenaline took over.

then—

“one! nine!” your voice rang out clear and sharp through the entire club, amplified by the sheer power behind it.

your sisters answered instantly, chanting the traditional response back to you at the top of their lungs.

“one nine! one three!”

the entire room erupted into pure awe. your sisters fell into a flawless, tight formation behind you, and the stroll began.

the club lost its absolute mind. everybody was cheering, singing along to the lyrics, bouncing to the heavy rhythm. you moved effortlessly with your line, completely synchronized, every sharp drop of your shoulders, every fluid step, and every unified turn reflecting years of deep tradition and sisterhood flowing through your veins. you were commanding the room, a literal queen in her element.

and then, as you spun around to transition to the next step, your eyes found him.

jaafar.

he was standing right near the very edge of the cleared circle, pushed back by the crowd but refusing to look away. watching you. again.

you smiled, the mischievous spark returning to your eyes. oh, this was just too easy.

without missing a single beat of the choreography, you took a sharp step forward, locked eyes with him, and pointed your finger directly at his chest. starting the second chant.

“you!” you and your sisters mouthed over the loud music, hips swaying perfectly to the bass. “you want this!” you said, gesturing you your body.

his friends absolutely losing it.

“OOOOHHHH!”

“she talking to you!”

jaafar instantly covered his face with one hand, laughing despite himself, his cheeks burning as his boys hyped him up, jumping around him.

you simply smirked, a dangerous, playful little twist of your lips, before turning sharply to the other side of the room, throwing your hip out and pointing again. “you! you want this! but you can’t have shit!”

and just like that, you were moving again, traveling effortlessly across the floor, leading your line with a mesmerizing grace, captivating every single person in the building.

jaafar adjusted his jacket, unable to stop smiling as he watched you move away. he really should’ve been annoyed. every single time he got close enough to finally introduce himself, something chaotic happened to pull you away.

but instead, he found himself completely entertained, a deep sense of intrigue settling into his chest. because you knew exactly what you were doing. you were teasing him. just enough to keep him hooked. giving him a look, a brief smile, a deliberate point in his direction, and then disappearing back into the safety of your line.

his friend shook his head, coming up beside him. “boy.”

jaafar laughed, his eyes never leaving your moving figure. “what?”

“she got you chasing. she definitely playing with you.”

he watched you continue across the room, completely owning every single inch of the venue, the strobe lights painting your skin in shades of gold and violet.

“maybe,” jaafar murmured, a confident, low undertone entering his voice. his eyes stayed fixed on you, watching the sharp, synchronized final steps of the song. “but eventually, that stroll gon’ end.”

his friend started laughing, crossing his arms. “and then what, jackson?”

jaafar’s smile widened, a soft, determined look settling in his eyes. because for the first time all night, you looked straight back at him through the parting crowd. and you held his gaze. just for a lingering, quiet second. a silent challenge. before you turned away to hug your sisters.

he shook his head, completely, utterly gone.

“and then,” he said quietly, his voice smooth and certain over the dying applause, “i’m taking her home.”

after the song you and the girls had retreated back to your spot, laughing loudly, hips moving before your brains could decide if the song was even good or not.

jaafar and his homeboys had been circling for at least twenty minutes. you’d caught him watching from his section across the room, still. he wasn’t hiding the stare. he wanted you to feel it. and you did. a warm, electric pull in your lower belly every time your eyes met.

he waited until you separated from your group to order a drink. your first mistake. the bartender hadn’t even turned around before you felt the heat on your back, not touching, but close enough to where you felt his presence.

“let me buy you a real drink,” he said, his voice lower than the music, his lips neared your ear.

you turned. his face was ridiculous. his sharp jaw, smile, eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners when he smiled. “a rum punch is a real drink.” you replied.

“not tonight it’s not.”

his confidence should’ve been annoying. instead, you were intrigued. you said yes and he’d ordered you both shots.

the flirting unfurled fast and shameless.

“you harass all the girls on campus like this?”

“just the pretty ones.”

you’d rolled your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, but you were smiling. you couldn’t stop.

the dj played a bounce track. the kind of beat that bypasses thinking and went straight to the hips. you turned, pressing your back to his chest before you could talk yourself out of it.

his hands found your waist instantly. respectful. barely there. a question more than an answer. you answered by rolling your hips back, once, slow, dragging the motion out until you heard his breath catch.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he murmured.

“doing what?” you said, innocent. wide-eyed as you looked up and back at him through your lashes.

his jaw was tight. the teasing smirk from earlier had dissolved into something hungrier. his fingers flexed on your hips as he pulled you tighter against him, to let you feel exactly what your little performance was doing. “you know what.”

the song changed and you kept dancing.

his mouth dropped to your ear again. “you’re so beautiful, but you have to stop teasing me.” he pleaded.

the command in his voice slid down your spine like warm honey. you turned in his arms so that you were face to face, chest to chest, your nose nearly brushing his chin because your heels only brought you so high.

“or what?” you teased once more.

his eyes darkened, pupils swallowing his iris. “or you won’t be leaving this club with your girls.” he said, “you’ll be coming home with me.”

your mouth went dry. the liquor was humming, loosening the bolts on your better judgment, “and what if i want that?”

his smile broke slow—surprised and pleased and just a little bit dangerous. “then go ahead and say bye, because you’re not leaving this function with them tonight.”

you laughed, bright and breathless, and when you looked over your shoulder, they were already watching. chelley raised an eyebrow, as she recalled you said you wouldn’t be going home with a certain freshman while rosalie mouthed go and made a shooing motion.

you turned back to him. “let’s go.”

⊹₊⟡⋆

his apartment was on the fourteenth floor of a high-rise in downtown dc, all floor-to-ceiling windows and dark hardwood and minimalist furniture that looked expensive.

the door had barely clicked shut before his mouth was on you.

the kiss being different than you expected. not rushed, not sloppy. deliberate. exploratory. like he was learning your lips, cataloging each angle and curve. his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones, and that tenderness undid something in your chest.

he pulled back just long enough to reach for his phone. a few taps, and then floetry’s voice filled the room, low and honeyed. say yes..

you made a mental note to ask him later what his young self knew about this album.

but later. because right now, his hands were sliding down your sides, tracing the contour of your waist, hips, thighs, every inch of you cataloged and claimed. his mouth followed—hot, open kisses along your jaw, neck, the dip of your collarbone. your dress was a barrier and you both resented it.

“can i?” his fingers found the zipper, paused, waited.

“yes.”

the fabric pooled at your feet. his exhale was a shudder.

he then knelt in front of you.

your breath stopped. his hands spread your thighs apart, throwing one leg over his shoulder. gentle but insistent, and he just … looked.

“so sexy,” he breathed. not performative. reverent.

and then his mouth was on you.

his tongue parting with the same patience he’d kissed you with—slow strokes that mapped every fold and dip, learning what made your hips jerk and thighs tremble against his shoulders. he groaned against your skin, the vibration traveling straight up your spine, and your hand flew to his head, fingers twisting in his curls. not guiding. clinging.

he found a rhythm and deviated from it constantly, keeping you squirming, chasing. one moment soft, feather-light flicks that made you whimper; the next, a deep, flat pressure that pulled a sound from your throat you’d never made before. your knees buckled. he caught you, arm circling your waist, holding you upright and open to him.

“right there—don’t stop—” you pleaded.

he didn’t. he stayed exactly there, relentless and focused, until the pleasure built to a pressure so immense you thought your ribs might crack. he worked you through your orgasm, softer and softer, until you were gasping, oversensitive, pushing weakly at his shoulders. you pulled him up and kissed him. tasting yourself on his lips.

“my turn.”

he let you undress him. you’d found the hem of his shirt, dragging it up and off, revealing miles of smooth brown skin and muscle that tensed under your touch. you kissed a path down his chest, pausing at each pectoral, tracing the waistband of his jeans with your tongue. his stomach quivered.

belt buckle. button. zipper. all prohibiting you from getting to him. his length finally sprang free, thick and heavy. you wrapped your palm around him. warm. you looked up at him through your lashes as you took him into your mouth.

“fuck.”

the word was ripped from him, raw and involuntary. his head fell back. his hand finding the back of your head, not pushing, just resting there as if he needed an anchor. you hollowed my cheeks and took him deeper, letting spit slick the way, your tongue pressing flat against his underside. his breathing went ragged.

you could’ve stayed there longer, lost in the rhythm of it, but his hand moved to your chin, tilting your face, pulling you to him.

“i need to be inside you.” his voice was wrecked. “now.”

he crashed your mouths together, the kiss sloppy and desperate, all the restraint from earlier gone. his hands gripped your thighs and lifted, and your legs wrapping around his waist automatically. he carried you all the way to the bedroom, laying you down on cool sheets. the weight of him settled over you, the blunt pressure of him sliding into you inch by inch. a stretch. a fullness. a moan caught in both your throats.

the sex that followed was … not sweet. not tender. it was deep and driving and urgent, the kind where every thrust punched a sound from your lungs. he folded your legs up, pressing them to your chest, and the angle making your eyes roll back.

sweat slicked between the two of you, but neither of you cared. the music kept playing, distant now. the city lights painted silver stripes across his shoulders.

you don’t know how long it lasted. you were both lost enough that you’d lost track of whose moans were whose. long enough that your thighs ached and throat was raw.

the end came crashing and simultaneous—his groan buried in your neck, your red nails raking down his back, both suspended in that bright moment before reaching your highs.

the aftermath, the tangled limbs, damp sheets. your head on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder blade. the music had shifted to something softer, playing softly into the quiet. you were pretty sure it was i want to be your man, by zapp.

you could feel him thinking. the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

“i don’t usually do this.” he spoke,

“yeah, i bet you say that to all the way girls you take home from clubs.” you joked and the two of you shared another laugh together.

the truth is that you’d believed him. you traced the line of his jaw with one finger, felt the faint rasp of stubble, the warmth of living skin. he was a sweet boy. when people raved about him, they all had one thing in common. he was the nicest guy they’d ever met.

“well, i don’t usually go home with guys from clubs.”

he caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, then your wrist, then the tender skin inside your elbow. “then i’m glad you made an exception tonight.”

neverland ranch, october 7th 1995

its been a month since the mtv awards. which means its been only four weeks since you and michael have announced to the public about not only your long term relationship but also your engagement.

at first it was okay.

you remember going into that after party with michael, hand in hand and enjoying the whole night. of course, you expected the media to pick up on it quickly but not that quickly.

literally the next day, you and michael were plastered on the front of every single newspaper.

‘michael jackson's mysterious lover.’

when you first saw that you couldn't help the way your heart was beating outside of your chest. you were scared because now everyone knew your face, your name, where you went to school, where you worked.

they knew everything.

and you already knew that your life would change because hello, you're about to get married to the biggest pop star in existence, but you didn't think that you'll become as famous as him.

now, just a month later from the public hearing about you. your whole life has changed drastically.

you have now permanently moved in with michael at neverland. you were already planning to move in with him anyways but unfortunately it happened more sooner than you thought.

as soon as you both left new york, all you did was try and go to your apartment to grab a couple of clothes, and instead of doing that, you had to hide in a random shop because your apartment complex was flooded with paparazzi. you remember calling michael immediately, and telling him that it's almost impossible for you to get into your apartment because of how crowded it is.

since that day, michael made sure that you've not only permanently moved into neverland but also that whenever you go out without him, you have your own personal security detail.

at first it sounded fun and you felt somewhat important, but now it just feels suffocating.

it’s like you can’t do anything without the public judging you for it. now you understand how michael has been feeling this whole time.

oh and let’s not even get started on the letters.

yes, you’ve been sent letters.

from michael’s fans. some of them are nice. congratulating you on the engagement, or saying nice things like you’re pretty, or you and michael are the perfect dream couple, but some of them are so disgustingly mean and disrespectful that it’s a shocker that michael has fans that are literal bullies, all because you’re dating him and they’re not.

“baby are you awake?” you hear michael’s sleepy voice from beside you. “i can hear you thinking.”

you let out a small smile at his words, turning around so you and him are face to face.

“yeah ive been awake for a while. m’ just nervous about today.” michael wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you so you’re flush against him.

“i know you are. it’s okay to be scared.” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” he suggests, and just the thought of him telling you that you don’t have to do an interview that is practically set up so the whole world can get to know you better, is so heartwarming.

because you and him both know that you don’t have to do it, but it’s the fact that if you don’t, the media will get you one way or another.

“i know.” you mumble, playing with the collar of his pyjama shirt. “but i don’t know,” you shrug, “i think it’ll be best if i just get it over and done with. and maybe people can see that i’m actually not a ‘money hungry bitch’ like they’ve been saying for the past couple of weeks.”

michael immediately frowns at your words. “baby… i told you to stop reading the tabloids. they’re always negative and no matter what you do, they’ll continue. all you have to do is ignore them like i said.”

you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your face in the crook of his neck so he can’t see the tears that are springing to your eyes.

“im sorry.” you apologise, your voice slightly muffled from your position.

“stop,” michael says softly, “you don’t need to apologise for something that’s not your fault. all you’re doing is existing and like i said, the media finds a problem with everything.”

you sniff, pulling back so you can look your fiancée in his eyes. “i just sometimes wish you wasn’t so famous and i wasn’t such an average girl from california. i just want your fans to like me.”

“it doesn’t matter what they think. all that matters is, i love you, so very much. and i plan to spend the rest of my life loving you. nothing that the fans say will ever change that okay.” you look down at his words making michael hook your chin with his finger so you’re staring straight into his eyes. “i said okay?”

“okay.” you nod. “but i still want to do the interview.”

“are you a hundred percent sure?”

“yes, michael. i want to do it.” you lie. yes, you want to do the interview but that’s only because you can’t help but wanting to be loved by the people. you don’t want them to think that you’re some evil woman who their idol happens to be marrying. you want them to see how much of a genuine soul you are.

god, you hate being such a people pleaser.

“okay. we’ll do it. but baby, if you feel uncomfortable once in that interview just say the word and ill end it.”

you nod, giving him a small peck on the lips. “of course. now let’s get ready before we’re late.”

your hands are shaking.

and you can't stop your leg from bouncing.

you and michael are both sitting on a couch in a well lit studio, waiting for the interviewer to get her team ready so you guys can go on air.

just knowing that you’re going to be live is nerve racking.

michael puts a hand on your knee, stopping you from bouncing it.

"it's okay." he whispers. "you'll be fine."

you nod, grasping michael's hand that's placed on your knee.

the interviewer comes from backstage, sitting across from you with a soft smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"are you guys ready?" she asks.

you nod, but michael speaks up. "do you mind if i see the question sheet before we start?"

"of course." the interviewer says, passing michael the sheet. you can't exactly see what's on it, and you're sure you don't want too. but michael looks through it thoroughly and circles the questions that he deems appropriate. "if you don't mind, those questions are the only ones we'll be answering today." he says with a smile.

"that's fine by me." the woman nods, before you hear the director shout 'quiet on set!'

"hi," the interviewer smiles at you both. "i'm here this morning with michael jackson and his newly found fiancée..." she trails off looking at you, so you could tell her your name

"i—" you go to tell her your name but michael immediately cuts you off.

he tells her your name, followed by, "i'm sure you already knew her name from the papers." you can't help the way his hand tightens around yours, already signalling that he's getting a bit annoyed.

"of course, apologises. it just seemed to slip my mind." the interviewer laughs.

"hmm." michael hums.

you look up, locking eyes with michael's social media manager who accepted this interview on behalf of you two and you see the slight shake of her head in discontent of michael's actions.

"anyways, ill like to congratulate you both on your engagement."

"thank you." you smile.

"and ill just like to ask, how did you keep the relationship a secret for that long? i mean you're not only in a relationship, but you're engaged. we all thought you were a single man michael and suddenly you pop up out of the blue with a woman?”

“uhh…” michael starts. “i never actually specified before if i was single or dating. it’s just that we both,” he smiles at you, “felt like we needed privacy, away from the media, away from the tabloids. just something that we can enjoy, just the two of us, until we both were ready for the world to know about our relationship.”

“fair enough.” the woman nods, before directing her next question at you.

“and you, how were you able to catch the eye of the michael jackson. from what im aware of you were just a normal woman, working a normal job, then you show up on his arm? how did that happen?”

you laugh, “i— uh i actually don’t know. i saw him a couple times, at his tours, or at some of his signings and then one day, he noticed me. he noticed me and we started talking, being on the phone together every night until he finally asked me on a date. sometimes when i think back at it, it doesn’t really seem real, that that’s how it happened, but yeah.” michael gives your hand a small squeeze, letting you know that you’re doing well so far.

“so you were one of his fans?” the interviewer questions, raising a single brow.

you let out a nervous laugh. “i mean… yeah, if you put it that way.”

“and how do you now deal with being in the spotlight? is it overwhelming? do you regret—”

“i didn’t circle that question.” michael interrupts, pointing at the notebook the woman is holding.

“right.” she laughs, “sorry.”

you bite your lip nervously, as the interviewer starts to sprout out questions directed at michael, asking about his upcoming tour. asking him about his album that was released this year, just completely forgetting that you’re in the room. which surprisingly you’re totally fine with, you were already nervous being here, and after being asked all these questions that had your heart racing, you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“i think what the people want to know is, when’s the wedding?” your ears perk up at that question because you and michael haven’t exactly agreed on a date.

“we’re planning to do it very soon, but unfortunately we can’t give out the date since we are both very private people, and we’ll love if we can have some sort of privacy the day that we marry.” your heart warms at his words, because that’s all you want.

“and do you guys plan to have kids in the future? have you spoken about kids, because michael you’ve always wanted to be a dad correct?”

“yes i want to be a father.” michael states, “and yes we’ve spoken about kids, multiple times. but we’ll choose to have them when we’re ready.”

“okay so i want to get this off my chest, before we start wrapping up this interview, but there’s a little tiny bit of gossip going around.” the interviewer starts.

your heart rate starts to pick up at her words.

“so what ive been seeing is, at the mtv awards, you and michael were caught having a heated argument.”

you swallow at her words because you know exactly what moment she’s talking about. the moment where michael scoped you out outside of the ladies bathroom and practically dragged you to his dressing room.

“i didn’t circle that question.” michael grits out, his hand tightening around yours.

“i know but—”

“but nothing.” he snaps. you and everyone else in the room seems to be shocked at his tone. you’ve seen the interviews when michael has been talked down on and berated, but he’s always responded with calm and calculated responses. “i already told you that we’re private people, and what goes on in our relationship is no one else’s business. so like i said, i didn’t circle that question.”

“right. apologies mr jackson.” the interview takes in a deep breath before planting the fakest smile ever on her face. “so i guess that’s the end of today’s interview, thank you both so much for attending.”

“thank you.” michael smiles, before standing up with your hand in his and walking off set.

once you both reach his dressing room, he immediately cups your face.

“you okay?”

“im fine, mike.” you smile, even though your hands are still shaking.

“good.” he nods. “even though that interview may have been a bit difficult but it’s definitely one of the more tamer ones.”

“i can tell.” you laugh.

michael looks up over your head, and you turn around and see his social media manager beckoning him over.

“im going to get security to escort you to the car, just wait there and ill be there in a second, okay.” he looks in your eyes, making sure that you’ll be okay if he goes to have a talk with his social media manager.

“that’s fine, ill be okay.”

“okay.” michael nods, placing a short kiss on your lips before signalling security, to escort you out.

almost immediately you are ushered out of the studio, and towards the car that is on the other side of the road.

what you didn't expect when you stepped outside was a massive crowd, filled with screaming fans and cameras flashing.

you cover your eyes, the flashing lights blinding, as you let one of the guards pull you towards the car that seems so far away.

"hey! back up!" one of the security yells, but you don't see, you can't see because everything is so bright with all the flashing.

you hear them scream your name, asking you all sorts of questions.

"where's michael?"

"is the relationship really genuine?"

"are you using him for his fame and money?"

“who actually are you?”

“were you really his fan?”

you try and shut out all the yelling but it's getting difficult when you're getting shoved in multiple directions. there's too little security and too many people trying to get at you, and you still don't understand why?

yes you're michael's significant other but you're not him. you shouldn’t be bombarded like this when you’re not even a pop star.

just a little more further to go, you're nearly to the car and then you can finally breathe.

"i said back up!" you hear the security who has a tight grip on your arm yell.

the guard let's go of your arm so he can push some people back, leaving you somewhat vulnerable.

the pushing and shoving starts to get worse the closer you get to the car. you let out a gasp when one of the security guys stumbles into you from the force of the crowd, causing you to trip over your dress.

the only thing you remember apart from the roaring crowd in your ears is falling on the ground hard. you let out a whimper in pain at the sharp, pain in your wrist and knees.

instantly, you're being helped up on your feet. "miss, are you okay? are you hurt?" one of the security men ask you, his hands gripping your shoulders. this was the one that stumbled into you, causing you to fall.

"im okay." you mumble, biting your lip to stop your tears from falling. you cradle your wrist in your other hand, dropping your gaze so the crowd and the cameras can't see the pain and embarrassment written all over your face.

after what feels like forever, of pushing, shoving and yelling from the crowd and security, you finally reach the car. once you sit in your seat, you let out a big breath. you ignore the soreness of your wrist, keeping your head down, not even realising that the car is driving off without michael inside.

you still don't even realise that the car pulled round to the back of the studio, where there's no crowd.

and you definitely didn't hear the car door open, and the sound of michael getting in the car beside you, followed by bill and two other security guys.

“hey, baby.” michael says, placing a hand on your sore knee which you’re pretty sure has a bruise forming.

your leg jerks at his touch, causing him to frown.

“you okay?” he asks, leaning his head down so he can catch your gaze.

you look up at him, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. you see the change in michael’s facial expressions when he realises that something is wrong.

“what happened?” you continue to stare at him, not knowing the best way to say that his beloved fans were the reason you accidentally got hurt.

michael sees the look on your face and immediately looks up to bill and the other security that are also in the car with you.

“what happened? i left her alone for five minutes and now my girl is lookin’ like she’s about to burst into tears?”

“sir—” one of the security men starts.

“bill?” michael questions, raising a brow.

“i didn’t get told anything, i was with you the whole time.” bill shrugs, looking at michael in confusion.

michael sighs, looking back down at you who still hasn’t said a single word.

“baby, what happened?”

“it wasn’t that bad.” you mumble, your voice just about heard over your laboured breathing.

your chest feelings unusually tight.

“tell me what happened, and ill determine whether it was bad or not.”

you shrug, telling him everything. how you got taken out the front entrance, completely being swarmed by his fans, and how your security detail got so overwhelmed with the amount of people that one of them knocked into you, causing you to fall.

by time you were done telling them everything, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“…i’m sorry. i probably made it sound worse that it actually was.” you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. you’re pretty sure that your makeup that you made sure was absolutely perfect for today’s interview is now ruined.

michael pulls you into his chest, wrapping both of his arms around you.

“m’ so sorry, my sweet girl.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your head.

“it’s okay.” you mumble, soaking in the warmth that is coming from his body.

“no it’s not. you could’ve gotten seriously hurt. and bill, i’m going to need to you to have a word with your team because there’s absolutely no reason why they didn’t take her out the back entrance when they know the front is always packed with fans.”

bill nods in understanding, whispering something to the man beside him.

“you didn’t get hurt did you?” michael asks, looking down at you.

“my knee is sore and my wrist aches a bit but apart from that i’m fine.” you manage a small smile. michael lifts up your wrist that you didn’t even realise you were cradling, and placing a small kiss on it.

“sorry.” he whispers, kissing your wrist again.

you smile, your first genuine smile since you woke up in his arms this morning. “you’re so sweet to me, mikey.”

he hums, dropping a kiss on your lips. “maybe it’s because there’s nothing and no one on this planet that i love more than you.”

you’re smiling so wide that your cheeks are starting to hurt. “that’s so cheesy.” you laugh.

“i know.” he smiles back, as you lay your head back down on his chest and enjoy the car ride back to neverland.

for the first time today, you’ve finally realised that as long as you have michael by your side, everything should be okay.

note: well… cheatfic with langdon is a must. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

Rain poured outside your place while you paced around the dark living room in just an oversized t-shirt and panties. Tears ruined your vision from completely breaking down about what happened yesterday. You kept thinking about the whole idea of selfishness. People always acted out of their own desires. It was totally selfish to prioritize yourself, but it was just as selfish to play the martyr to protect someone else. You pushed him away for his own good, even though he begged you not to make him leave. You thought you were saving his marriage, but you were really just saving yourself from the guilt. Being the other woman made you feel sick to your stomach every single day. You hated knowing someone else was waiting up for him at night.

You tried to act like the good guy by ending things, but you just broke both of your hearts. Making that choice for him without listening to what he actually wanted was incredibly selfish. You secretly wanted him to leave his wife for you, even if the thought made you sick, and you know you wouldn’t ask him for it. You wanted him to blow up his own life so you didn’t have to take the blame for ruining a family. That made you just as bad as him. You just wanted the easy way out of this mess. That just made everyone human. Your brain couldn’t stop thinking about the memory of the argument you had with him yesterday. It got you fucked up the whole night. That entire fight proved exactly how selfish you really were. You started the argument so that you could feel better about yourself.

You remembered exactly how his body felt against yours right before you ruined everything. “I’m not giving up on you,” Frank muttered when he tightened his arms around your waist. You forced yourself to shove against his chest because you pictured his family waiting for him at home. The guilt made you feel sick to your stomach every time he touched you. “You need to stop wasting your time on me,” you said while you shoved his hands away from your body. The truth was you desperately wanted to keep him close, but it felt completely wrong to let the affair continue. You hated yourself for wanting him this badly. “I want to be here with you,” he argued when he took a step closer to stand right in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around your own torso because looking at him hurt too much. “We can’t keep doing this behind her back,” you whispered when more tears fell down your cheeks. Frank reached out to rest his palm right over your chest. You felt his body heat right through your shirt. “Why can’t you just be selfish for once?” he asked with total frustration in his voice. You stared at his hand before you looked up at his face. He looked so desperate, and it made you feel even worse. He was literally begging you to let him ruin his own life. “I know exactly how you feel about me,” he stated before that arrogant assumption completely pissed you off. He had absolutely no idea that looking at him was terrifying.

He didn’t know how hard it was even to breathe when he got too close to you. You couldn’t admit you actually loved him, so you just pushed him away instead. “You don’t know anything about me,” you snapped when you took a huge step backward. “Just get out, Frank!” you yelled when you pointed toward the front door. You remembered the hurt look on his face right before he finally walked out, and it should stay that way, but the silence in the living room made you feel completely lonely right now. That’s why you came running the moment you heard a loud knock against the door. You wiped your face quickly, but you didn’t even look through the peephole. You grabbed the handle to open the door because nobody else would show up at this hour. You weren’t the only person acting out of your own desires in this mess.

Frank was an exact mirror of that exact same selfishness because he refused to leave you alone. He stood on the welcome mat as the rain soaked his clothes. He stared right at your messy state before he stepped inside your place. He walked over the threshold to force you to take a step backward. He reached behind his back to shut the door completely. He stopped right in front of you and took a deep breath. You saw the clear pain on his face when he looked at you. He saw how much you wanted him despite the argument you had yesterday. You thought about how wrong this was, but you actually wanted him closer. “Frank,” you whispered when your voice cracked from all the crying.

“You shouldn’t be here right now,” you breathed out when you took another step back to create some distance between your bodies. Frank lifted his right hand to hold your jaw so his thumb could brush across your cheek. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” he whispered when he stared down at your mouth. You wanted to run away, but you simply refused to retreat any further. “Your wife is waiting for you at home,” you said while you stared at his wet shirt. He traced his thumb over your cheekbone while he leaned his face down closer to yours. “I can’t just go back and act like this doesn’t exist,” he muttered when he stepped into your space. You felt his breath against your neck, and more tears slipped down your face.

“Think about your kid,” you whispered because you needed to stop this before it went too far. “You can tell me to leave right now,” he said right against your neck. “I’ll walk out if you truly want me gone,” he added when you leaned directly into his palm instead of shoving his arm away. Frank moved his free left hand to your waist and walked both of you backward until your shoulders bumped against the nearby wall. “We shouldn’t do this,” you warned him when you lifted your hands to press them against his chest. “This is a bad idea... You know it,” you argued when you tried to push him away, but he just leaned his body against you. “I don’t care,” he muttered because he was completely selfish tonight. “I know what I want right now,” he added right next to your mouth.

Frank tensed under your touch when your fingers stopped pushing and slid underneath the wet hem of his shirt instead. He let out a shaky breath against your jaw before he leaned down to press his mouth slowly against yours. Your body softened against him completely. You slid your palms up his chest under the fabric before you pulled your hands out to wrap your arms tightly around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back just as slowly. His left hand left your waist and slid upward to join the other so he could hold both sides of your face while his lips moved over yours. You tasted the salt from your own tears when they slipped down your cheeks and caught between your lips. He tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

He held onto your face like you were going to disappear if he let go. You clung to his neck and parted your lips to let his tongue slide against yours because the deep contact made it hard to breathe. You finally pulled away just enough to gasp for air. “You’re just going to leave me in the end,” you whispered with tears falling down your cheeks. Frank rested his forehead against yours. He opened his mouth to say something to reassure you, but no words came out because his wife and kid were actually waiting for him at home. He knew you were right, so he leaned down to press his lips against your neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against your collarbone before he brought his face back up to connect your mouths again.

“Please don’t go,” you cried out into the kiss. Frank dropped his hands from your face so he could wrap his arms entirely around your body and hold you so tightly it almost hurt. He pressed his body flush against you right there against the wall. His breathing was jagged when his chest heaved against yours. The kiss was completely messy. It was built entirely on apologies neither of you could actually say out loud. You let go of his neck to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him down against you like he was the only thing keeping you upright. He kissed the tears directly off your cheeks before he found your mouth again. You choked on a sob in the dark. Frank shifted his right hand up your back to tangle his fingers in your messy hair.

He held your head and kissed you like it was the last time he ever would. You finally broke the kiss to catch your breath. Frank moved his mouth down to bite lightly at your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access while you ground your hips forward against him. Frank grabbed your waist to walk you away from the wall. You stepped backward while he moved forward until you backed right into the couch. You dropped onto the cushions before Frank stepped right between your parted legs to lower his hips onto yours. You felt the hard bulge in his wet jeans right against your panties. “Fuck- you want this too,” he grunted when he looked down at your face. You stared right back at him without trying to hide how desperate you felt.

“Mm- just don’t stop,” you whined when your head rolled back against the couch. Your hands let go of his shirt to slide down his back to grip his ass. You squeezed him hard to force him to grind harder against you. “Christ-” he cursed right next to your ear when you rutted up against him again. He rubbed his erection right against your panties over and over. It made you gasp loudly because the rubbing against your clit felt incredibly good. The wetness pooling in your cunt made you forget about everything else. You wanted his cock inside you instead of his wet jeans getting in the way. Frank grabbed the hem of your oversized t-shirt and lifted it over your head. He realized you weren’t wearing a bra underneath when the fabric moved past your breasts.

He threw the shirt onto the floor before he looked down at your bare chest while he rested his left hand against the cushions to support his weight. He panted harder when he reached out with his free right hand to grab your breast so his thumb could rub roughly over your hard nipple. “Haaah- Frank,” you cried out when you arched right into his hand. He pinched it hard before he leaned down to suck the other nipple right into his mouth. You arched your back right off the cushions when Frank sucked your nipple into his mouth. He always gave your breasts so much attention whenever you ended up together. It felt like he found genuine comfort in you whenever he suckled like this. He licked over your nipple before he sucked on it even harder.

“Nngh- p-please,” you whimpered when you tangled your fingers into his wet hair. He stopped grinding his hips against yours so his left hand could lift from the cushions and slide down between your bodies. His fingers slipped past your thighs until he found your clit through your panties. He rubbed you right through the cotton to make sure your cunt got all the attention. “Ahhhnn- right t-there,” you panted while you stared up at the dark ceiling. You felt his hot breath on your chest because he refused to let go of your breast. You couldn’t even think about the terrible argument while his mouth and hand worked together perfectly. You wanted him to keep doing this forever. You tilted your hips up against his hand to force his fingers harder against your underwear.

“God- please don’t stop,” you begged when your thighs parted even wider for him. He just kept feeding on your breast while his hand kept moving over your panties. Frank suddenly bit your nipple before he sucked it down and twirled his tongue right over the swollen nub. “Nnn- t-that hurts,” you cried out when tears came to your eyes because the bite actually hurt. You winced from the pain, but Frank immediately encircled his fingers on your clit right through the fabric. The attention down there completely made up for the pain. You shoved your hips upward into his hand while his fingers moved in circles. He pulled his mouth away from your chest to look up at your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before he pressed a peck against the same nipple he just bit.

Frank gave you another kiss right after that while he breathed against your chest. “I just couldn’t help it... It’s been so damn long since I had you,” he grunted when he leaned his forehead against your collarbone. He hooked his left fingers into the elastic waistband to pull your panties completely to the side. He slid one long finger right into your slick opening without any warning. “Fuck- you’re so wet for me,” he muttered when your tight walls squeezed around his knuckle. You let out a shaky breath because feeling his finger deep inside your cunt felt incredibly good. He began to slide his finger all the way in and out to get you ready. “Has it really been that long?” he asked while he peppered your neck with kisses.

He kissed his way up to your jaw while his hand kept moving between your thighs. “Mmn- yeah,” you whimpered when you tilted your head to give him more room. You couldn’t even lie to him because your body was totally desperate for his touch. “I didn’t touch myself at all... I was just too busy,” you confessed while his finger stroked deeper into your wetness. The truth was that touching yourself never worked anyway. It just didn’t feel anywhere near as good when it wasn’t his fingers or his cock inside you. “Hngh- oh god,” you gasped when he added a second finger to stretch your soaking cunt. Frank let out a chuckle against your neck because he liked hearing exactly how much you needed him. He thrust his fingers in and out of your wetness while he pressed kisses right against your neck.

Frank was really the biggest asshole out of everyone in this entire situation. He should definitely feel bad about doing this. He should feel totally guilty about cheating on his wife, but he clearly did not care right now. He was only thinking about how much he missed you while his fingers completely filled up your cunt. “Nngh- right there,” you whined while your hands grabbed his shoulders. You ground your hips up against his hand every single time he pulled his fingers back just to force him to go even deeper on the next thrust. He moved his mouth up to kiss the back of your ear. “You’re so damn pretty it actually drives me crazy,” he whispered right next to your earlobe. Your wet walls clenched down hard around his moving fingers because his dirty praise felt incredibly good.

“F-fuck... haah- I’m getting so close,” you stuttered out while your nails dug right into his wet shirt. “Mm,” he hummed before he left one more kiss on your ear. He leaned his upper body back to watch your face while his hand kept thrusting inside your cunt. Frank kept his fingers thrusting deep inside your wetness while your panties were pushed to the side. The cotton was completely soaked with your slick, so his hand slid easily inside your opening. He watched your hips rise up against his hand. “You feel so good, baby,” he grunted out while he watched your wetness coat his fingers when he pulled them back. “Mmf- yeah,” you whimpered because the pet name made everything feel completely natural between you two.

He thrust his fingers deeper until your legs got completely weak. Your walls clenched around him, but you desperately wanted his cock inside you instead of just his fingers. You lifted your head up to look past his messy hair so you could see his face. He quickly reached up with his free right hand to push the wet strands out of his eyes. “Ahhn- I-I think I’m gonna cum,” you stuttered out while your toes curled right into the couch cushions. Frank suddenly stopped moving his hand completely. “Don’t cum yet,” he ordered when he hovered directly over your body. You stared right up at him because you wanted to know exactly what he was going to do next. He wiped his face with the back of his free right hand.

“I want you to cum while my cock is inside you,” he stated before he pulled his fingers out and stood up from the couch. You realized he managed to unbutton his wet jeans with his free right hand without you even noticing earlier, while his left fingers worked your clit. You could actually see his pre-cum soaking right through the front of his underwear. Frank offered his hand right after he got off the couch. You kicked your panties off completely before you grabbed his fingers to let him guide you straight toward your bedroom. Your bare feet padded against the floorboards while he walked down the hallway like he owned the entire apartment. Being completely naked without making out along the way did not even bother you.

The quiet walk actually felt perfectly fine because the anticipation built up perfectly between you two. You crawled onto the mattress when Frank pulled the wet shirt over his head. The soaked fabric hit the floor right before his jeans followed. Watching him strip his underwear off made your heart beat faster. It was almost embarrassing how tall his cock stood when he watched you lie back against the pillows. “You’re really just gonna stand there staring?” you teased when you spread your legs wide open. “Come here,” you ordered when you patted the empty space right in front of you. The mattress dipped under his weight when Frank climbed onto the bed to kneel right between your parted thighs. He lowered his body down to hover directly over you while his left elbow planted right beside your head.

Your hair tangled in his free right hand when he pushed the messy strands away from your face. The way he looked right into your eyes made you feel completely vulnerable. You lifted your head up just enough to kiss his mouth softly, but Frank broke the contact a second later to catch his breath. “Nobody else gets to make you feel like this... right?” Frank asked while his right hand slid down between your bodies. His fingers wrapped around his own erection to rub the slick pre-cum right over the tip. “Tell me exactly who gets to have you,” he demanded right next to your ear. Your breath hitched, but you just looked him right in the eye without speaking. “Answer me,” he repeated when you refused to reply. “Y-yours... just yours,” you whispered before you grabbed the back of his neck to pull his face down for another messy kiss.

You just wanted his cock inside your cunt already. He kissed you back hard while his right hand kept stroking his own cock right between your bodies. He eventually wanted more, so he guided his erection down to rub the tip directly against your slit. “N-ngh... right there,” you whispered against his lips because his tip felt incredibly good. Frank drew his mouth away from yours once he felt you grinding up against his hips. “I’m going in,” Frank whispered when he hovered right over your opening. You nodded your head, and you grabbed his upper arms before his cock finally pushed inside you. You shut your eyes tight while you held your breath when he slid all the way inside your cunt. “Just breathe for me,” Frank grunted out when he started to move his hips at a really slow pace.

He brought his right hand up from between your bodies to cup your jaw before he pushed his thumb right past your lips. You opened your mouth to take his thumb inside. “I shouldn’t even be here right now,” Frank muttered while he watched you suck on his thumb. You pushed his thumb out of your mouth with a soft pop that leaves his hand resting right against your cheek so that you could look straight up at his face. “Mmf- but you are,” you gasped out while your nails dug hard into his shoulders. Frank thrust his hips down incredibly fast just to get a bigger reaction out of you. “H-hngh... hahh...” you stuttered out when your hips bucked up against the mattress. “I just can’t keep away from you,” Frank admitted right before he pounded into you so hard that the bed frame hit the wall.

“A-ahhn... mmf,” you gasped out under him. His pace slowed down right after your walls clenched tight around his cock. “Shit- you feel so good,” Frank whispered before he leaned down to kiss you deeply again. “I love-” he murmured right against your mouth before he caught himself. You reached up to grab his right hand off your face before you turned his palm away. You brought the back of his hand to your lips to kiss it. “Mmn... shh... It’s okay,” you whispered softly before you kissed his hand again. He could not finish his sentence, but that did not bother you at all. “It’s okay,” you repeated quietly before you left another kiss on his knuckles. He suddenly gripped your hip tightly with his left hand when he lifted his elbow from the mattress because your reassurance actually frustrated him.

Frank started thrusting his cock deep inside your cunt much faster now. The rough movement made the bed frame creak loudly as it touched against the bedroom wall. “N-ngh... haah- p-plea-” you gasped out loud while your body trembled under him. He let out a grunt before he pounded into you without holding back. He flipped the right hand you were holding to let his palm cup your cheek again. His thumb caressed your face while he continued sinking deep inside your walls. Frank leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed the exact moment he did that. “Shit.. you feel- good-” he whispered between quick breaths. “You’re beautiful... you’re really good to me,” he praised you right over your lips.

You kissed his lips again right after he praised you. He smiled at you before he moved his face away from yours. Both of your eyes opened up when he broke the kiss. Frank got up on his knees when he slid both of his hands down until they held your hips. You watched him kneel above you, and he kept moving his hips against you while he thrust his cock inside your cunt. “Mmn- g-good-” you gasped out when your legs spread wider for him. He let out a moan when he pounded deep inside you again. “You- mhhn- feel really good,” you whispered when you reached down to hold onto his right wrist resting at your hip. Your other hand trailed over your stomach before it moved up to your chest. You started playing with your own nipple between your fingers.

“Yeah?” Frank asked before he pulled his cock back to the tip, and he drove his hips to sink deep into your cunt again. “Ahhn- yes... so… s-so good,” you whined out while your body trembled under him. Frank watched your fingers play with your own nipple as he approved of what you did. He kept watching your chest while he kept thrusting his cock inside your cunt. He actually could not seem to look away at all, so he pulled his right wrist from your grip to move his hand up to your other breast while his left hand slid off your hip to anchor heavily against the mattress. His right hand captured your tit to give it some attention. His thumb rubbed right over the peak while his fingers squeezed your breast. “Y-you like that?” he asked when he squeezed it hard.

You nodded your head before he flicked your nipple with his fingers. “A-ah! F-fuck-” you gasped out when you arched your back off the bed. Frank slowed down his movements, but he made sure to push his cock completely deep into your cunt. He went all the way in until his pelvis met your thighs to leave no space between your bodies. He ground his hips forward just to make sure you took his entire length. He pulled his hips back slightly to start moving again before the sound of your thighs slapping against his hips filled the room every time he thrust forward. You spread your legs wider so he could push himself even deeper inside you. You let go of your own breast, and you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer against your chest. He let out a grunt before he went back to pounding into your cunt.

Frank cleared his throat to catch his breath before he talked. “I didn’t think we would get to do this again... mmf- but I’m all yours,” he grunted out while sweat dripped down his back. He pulled his cock out of your cunt before he shoved it back in while he panted against your neck. His right hand left your breast to slide down and grip your waist while his left hand lifted from the mattress to hold you tight against his body. “I-I need you too...” you stuttered out because his pace made it so you could barely think. You let your arms fall from his neck right after that to rest beside your head. You just lay there under him while he took complete control. He slowed his pace down again so he could make it last longer. You felt totally worn out, but you just let him sink heavy thrusts into you.

He lifted his head up from your neck, so you kept watching his face while your hips moved up to meet every thrust. His grip on your waist tightened while he pushed into you a few more times. He checked your reaction every time he bottomed out. He moved his right hand up from your waist to wipe the sweat from your forehead. He slid his hand down so his palm rested flat against your cheek. You shut your eyes to lean into his touch, but you opened them a few seconds later so that you could look right up at him. He panted above you with the effort of every heavy thrust. His thumb dropped lower to stroke your bottom lip for a second. He dragged that same hand away from your face before he reached all the way down to your cunt.

“Shit- I need to cum soon,” he warned you when his fingers slipped right against your cunt. You reached down to grab his other left hand resting on your waist so you could pull it up to kiss his knuckles. You mumbled an apology about the fight you both had yesterday when your throat tightened up, and you swallowed hard. Frank leaned down to leave a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t apologize... fuck- I need you,” he answered while he kept rubbing your slit. Frank started playing with your clit while he began to fuck you much faster. “Ahhhnn- s-stop... It’s too much,” you whined out when your walls clenched tight around his cock. You tried to turn your head away when heat bloomed across your cheeks and neck from being this sensitive to his touch.

You smiled a little just thinking about how you were finally back together. He rubbed his fingers directly over your clit to pull another loud moan from your throat. Your hips bucked up off the mattress so you could take him even deeper. “You’re gonna cum on my cock for me, aren’t you?” he asked while he ground his fingers harder against your slit. He let out a laugh right above you when his smile got even wider. He let out these little groans over you, so the sound sent a shiver down your spine and made you need him even more. “Y-yes- haah... m-mm!” you cried out because he hit the perfect spot inside you. Frank watched you completely fall apart right under his hand. You shifted your knees in to wrap your legs tighter around his waist to trap him against your body.

“Nnngh-” you whined, and your walls squeezed around his cock. He pulled his left hand away from your lips to grab your knee before he pushed one of your legs off his waist to force it open against the mattress. He kept his right hand between your legs and his fingers rubbed your clit. You wrapped your other leg tighter around his back when he changed his position. “God- you look so damn good,” he grunted out when he looked down at you. He watched everything you did while he moved inside you. He stared at the way your mouth parted open when you gasped for air before his eyes tracked the way your fingers reached back up to play with your own nipple. He pulled his cock out until only the tip was inside you before he thrust deep into your cunt.

Frank pushed his hips forward so his whole length filled you again. “Haah... yeah- just like that,” he told you when his pelvis met your thigh. “Mhm- you feel so tight,” he repeated over and over, and he forgot about his wife at home. He kept pushing into you at that slow pace while he ground his fingers directly over your clit. “Shit- I’m close... I’m gonna cum,” he warned you between his loud breaths. “Yes- m-me too... ahhn- please,” you whined out when you let your head fall back against the pillows. He leaned his upper body down so you could reach up to kiss his neck, and you relaxed against the bed. You took his slow thrusts while his fingers kept rubbing your clit. You knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

“Inside me... p-please- just fill me up,” you begged him when he pressed your open leg wider against the mattress. He grunted loudly when he tried to hold back so that he could make sure you finished first. “Mmf- fuck... I’m-” his words got cut off before he buried his cock as deep as it could go inside you. His fingers rubbed hard against your clit to push you over the edge until you came on his cock. “O-oh god- yes!” you screamed out loud while your walls clenched tight around his cock. He kept moving his hips forward a few more times before he came deep inside your cunt and pulled his right hand away from your clit. He let go of your open leg to wrap his arms entirely around you so both of you could hold onto each other.

“Haaah... mmn,” you panted out while your chest rose up and down. Frank drops his body right on top of yours while he keeps his cock buried deep inside your cunt. He moves his hips back and forth so he can slowly grind against you. He pushes his pelvis forward like he wants to make sure all of his cum gets pushed inside. You feel his cock throb deep inside your walls while your clit pulses because you just came. “Shit, you took all of it,” he grunts out when your cunt occasionally clenches around his length. He leans down so he can pepper your face with kisses. He kisses your cheeks before he moves down to kiss your jaw. He keeps telling you how perfect you look under him. “You feel so damn good,” he praises you between his kisses.

Both of you let out quiet laughs because you finally get to do this again. You wrap your arms around his back to bring him closer. “Nngh- don’t pull out yet,” you whisper out so he knows you want him exactly where he is. He rests his head right next to yours against the pillow, but he doesn’t pull out of you. He closes his eyes before he lets out a loud breath. “Sorry… about everything,” he mumbles out while he hides his face in your neck. Guilt builds inside his chest because he just lied to his wife a few hours ago. He feels bad about the lies he spits through his teeth so that he can see you. He feels guilty, but it isn’t enough to make him pull his cock out of your cunt. He is totally exhausted from being a coward all the time.

He feels tired no matter how hard he tries fighting for a marriage that never gets better. He hates that he keeps making promises he can’t keep. His brain feels totally broken because he knows he shouldn’t be here in your bed. He knows everyone thinks he is a good husband, but his insides feel totally rotten from all the lying. He tried to do the right thing for years, but the fight just drained right out of him. Frank doesn’t want to try anymore because the guilt just drains him. He put his wife and everyone else above himself for so long that he can’t even feel bad about fucking you right now. He knows he is foolish for coming here today. He wishes things were different so he wouldn’t have to sneak around just to be with you.

Frank is just too tired to care about the consequences anymore. “Mmf- I don’t want to go home,” he grunts out when he holds you tighter against his chest. “I love you,” you whisper back while you run your fingers through his hair. His breath brushes against your collarbone while his body is pressing against yours. “I want to keep you here forever,” you whisper, and you let out a breath right against his ear. He rubs his nose right against your jaw while his cock twitches deep inside you. People always tell you that selfishness is the worst trait a person can have. They talk about it as if it were the root of every bad thing a person could do. Like every terrible decision starts with someone choosing themselves over somebody else.

They make it sound so simple when they explain it that way. You spend your whole life hearing how you should put others first before yourself. You move your legs to hook your calves over the back of his thighs so you can keep his hips against your own. “I’m not going anywhere right now,” he promises while he kisses your shoulder. His body relaxes against you to press your own deep into the mattress. Your arms tighten around his back so you can keep him as close as possible. He moves his hand up to tangle his fingers in your messy hair. You let your eyes close while you enjoy his body touching yours. “I missed this so much,” he whispers when he lets out a breath against your neck. His thumb strokes the side of your face over and over.

You could feel yourself melting right into the mattress under his touch. If being selfish is actually so terrible, then you don’t understand why it feels so damn good right now. You don’t understand why being chosen feels better than doing the right thing. You don’t understand why guilt keeps losing every single time happiness enters the room. He moves his hips just enough so he can be deeper inside you if that’s even possible. “You always say that, Frank…” you tease him while your hands slide down his back. He lets out a hum right against your collarbone in response. Your nails lightly scratch down the center of his back before they rest right at his waist. You know you are ruining another woman’s life just by keeping him in your bed.

You know there is another version of this story where you are the villain. You know there is another woman who would hate you if she knew your name. Frank places his lips against the pulse point on your neck for a long second. You swallow hard while a tight knot forms in your throat. “Are you really spending the night?” you ask, and you bite your lower lip for a second. He nods his head immediately to answer your question. The guilt is boiling in your stomach whenever you think about it, but that feeling disappears the second he touches you. It fades so fast that it almost scares you, and sometimes you wonder what that says about the kind of person you have become. “I’m not leaving,” he answers while he looks up at your face and stares right into your eyes so you can see exactly how serious he is.

“It just feels so complicated sometimes,” you whisper, and you let out a sigh. His hand slides up from the mattress to cup the side of your neck. You tilt your head just to lean right into his palm. Your chest rises and falls against his with every breath you take. You aren’t trying to justify the cheating or make excuses for the lies you both tell. You know wrong is wrong, no matter how pretty it looks. You just accept that human nature is inherently flawed and greedy. Maybe people were never meant to be as selfless as they pretend to be. Maybe everyone has a line they swear they will never cross until they are in the moment to do things they thought they wouldn’t do. You run your fingers through his messy hair over and over.

He lets out a satisfied grunt because he clearly likes the attention. You just want to keep him trapped in this bed forever, so nobody else can have him, and it shows how humans will walk toward whatever gives them the most pleasure, even if it destroys everything around them. People are built to survive, and you tell yourself that stealing someone else's happiness is just another way to get by. He moves his head to leave another kiss right under your jaw. “You think way too much,” he grunts while his breath hits your neck. Frank moves his body just a little while his cock twitches deep inside you. You let out a whine before wrapping both arms tightly around his shoulders. “I can’t help it,” you whisper when you tighten your grip on his back.

He buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck. His body makes you feel safe despite the terrible situation you are in. You know it makes you a bad person, and everyone always paints the other woman as a complete villain who ruins happy homes without a second thought, but nobody ever talks about how much this actually harms you in the process. He rubs his thumb gently over your hip bone to comfort you. You try to ignore the terrible twisting feeling in your chest. “It’s gonna be okay,” he lies before he gives your body another kiss. You know he only says that so you will stop worrying. He doesn’t actually have a plan to fix any of this mess. “You don’t actually know that,” you whisper back while a tear slips down your cheek.

Nobody talks about the waiting, and no one mentions a thing about the humiliation. You only ever get the leftover pieces of him after he gives his best parts to his wife. You have to hide at home, and you can’t call him when you really need him. You don’t get any holidays, and you don’t do anniversaries. Your stomach drops just thinking about the empty hours you spend alone in this place. It always gets way too quiet in the bedroom whenever he finally walks out the door. It is a totally self-destructive cycle that you willingly choose to repeat every single time he knocks on your door. You squeeze your eyes shut because thinking about it just makes you picture how it will happen repeatedly, and your hands hold onto him a little tighter. You know exactly how it ends, and you open the door anyway.

You trade your own self-respect just for a few hours of having him in your bed. You let yourself believe that being a secret is better than not having him at all. You convince yourself that crumbs are enough when you are starving. He lets out a soft groan before he moves his body slightly to relieve the weight on his elbows. Your hands slide down his back to push your palms right against his lower back. You can feel his heart beating against your chest. “Can we not talk about that stuff right now, hm?” he begs you while his hand on your waist gets tighter. The situation hurts you constantly, but you beg him not to leave every time he tells you he needs to go. You keep hoping the ending will somehow change if you love him hard enough, and desperation makes people accept the absolute bare minimum just to feel less lonely.

Both of you know this will eventually have to stop, but you hold onto him anyway, and maybe that is the cruelest part of all. You just lie there under him while you let the selfishness win, but it isn’t always about hurting people. You turn your face to leave a long kiss on the side of his head. His hands tighten on your waist in response. Sometimes it is just about wanting something so badly that you stop caring what it costs. He finally lifts his head up just enough so you can look directly at his face. “Fine,” you whisper when you reach up to push a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead while you finally give in. Frank lets out a grunt of total relief right before he closes the distance between your mouths for a kiss. He rests his forehead against yours before he breathes out, “I just need you.” He starts to slowly thrust his cock into your cunt again just to distract you from what you are thinking.

You know keeping him here makes you the worst person in the world, but you simply refuse to care anymore. Selfishness ruins everything it touches, and it feels way too good whenever he chooses you like this. The frightening part is not being ignorant of the difference between right and wrong, but actually understanding it perfectly. You know exactly what this is and who gets hurt. None of that changes the way your chest softens when he looks at you like you’re the only place he wants to be. People like to believe selfishness comes from cruelty when it really just comes from wanting something you were never supposed to have. Human beings have always been remarkably good at choosing what feels good today over what will hurt tomorrow.

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⠀⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-six © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀⠀

“4 more!”

Janet sits beside you as you finish up your set of crunches.

You’re always asking about her routine so she brought you here to her home gym to see how she really trains.

“whew” you lay back exhausted. The sweat is dripping off your body, you’re 100% positive there’s an outline of you on that mat.

“Good job, knew you could do it” you smile, ignoring the tingling feeling her praise gave you.

“so what’s next?”

“I usually do a cool down at this point”

“which is?” you sit up on your elbows

“stretching,” she sees your head tilt

“don’t worry, it’s not that bad” she laughs and pulls you to your feet.

“okay so” she stands behind you “bend over…”

you bend forward and look back at her wondering what she’s doing.

“oh I’m just standing here to assist, can’t have you getting hurt on my watch” her smile told a different story.

You begin slowly touching your toes and give a slight groan feeling how deep the stretch is.

Janet feels bad but not really, your shorts were riding up perfectly and seeing your body lengthen and legs spread made her lock into a daze.

“what now?” you look between your thighs

she sits down “okay now I want you to lean back on me and lengthen your legs as far down as you can,” she was hoping you wouldn’t notice her breath quicken.

you get into the position and she wraps her arms around your waist “okay now stretch”

“mmm,” you point your toes “this one feels nice!”

She could feel your damp skin lay on hers, she wasn’t thinking clearly when she softly whispered in your ear, “you smell so good”

you stopped stretching and shifted under her touch as she traced your stomach

“we-we should focus on stretching-“

“that’s what you want?” she smiled and watched you lean more into her.

Janet's hands made their way down to the elastic band of your shorts

“no”

“good girl," she licked the sweat from your neck.

“just keep doing what I say, it’ll be like a workout recovery routine”

You moaned as she took your shorts down and knelt in front of you.

Janet bent one of your legs back and leaned in giving you a deep kiss.

before you knew it her slick folds were grinding down on yours, you moaned and shut your eyes

“look at me baby, want you to keep your eyes on me” Janet moved your hair from your face.

you bit your lip and fluttered your eyes, wanting to make her proud.

your gaze moves to her defined abs and up to her sports bra

“ask for what you want-“

you cut her off with a desperate plea, “please let me touch you”

your hands smoothed over her skin and she let your fingers trace her nipples

she threw her head back and started to grind faster pulling sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make.

the coil snapped in your stomach and your juices coated the gym mat, “please let me have it, wanna feel you on me”

Janet once again was gonna give you what you asked for. Your eyes rolled back as you felt her warmth cover your slit entirely, she smiled satisfied and put your trembling legs back down.

Janet tilted her head, “another session tomorrow?”

you taste the mixture you both created off her fingers

coach!tashi who’s lowkey a sugar mommy. if you’re doing good in your classes, practices and most importantly matches. she buys you whatever you want. you guys spend your off days at the mall, swiping tashi’s card endlessly and leaving with several bags.

coach!tashi who calls you on your off days. she likes to make sure you’re eating and hydrating properly, and that just because it’s an off day doesn’t mean get to forget about tennis. she likes to talk to you about your next matches, your competitors and what you need help on.

coach!tashi who’s doesn’t care when you have a bratty attitude at practices. you can moan, groan, be snarky out the mouth all you want. the ball will always be in tashi’s court and you both know that whatever tashi wants will happen. she let’s you act out all practice, she doesn’t really speak on it. she continues practice as normal, showing her unbotheredness.

coach!tashi who waits until you reach the locker room to pin you against the wall, quickly attacking your neck and removing your spanks in the same breath. “you wanna give me a hard time today when i’m just helping you get better. do you know how fucking selfish you are?” tashi cursed, her hand now between your legs, now palming your already soaked cunt. “you never wanna learn. you just wanna bitch and groan all the time. do you know how lucky you are to have me?” tashi’s hands went to pull your panties to the side, before sinking her slender fingers inside of you. “you always want your way, you spoiled brat.”

tashi’s fingers pumped in and out of you, her fingers curling inside of you once every time she fingered fucked you deep. “it’s my fault for making you this way. she continued fucking the spongy spot that she knew sent you over the wall. “but it’s okay..”

“because now i’m gonna fix it.”