Tell Me That You Love Me, All The Time

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

“Michael I can’t believe you right now.” You say sternly your chest heaving up and down.

“Baby, calm down.” He walks towards you timidly.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?!” Your voice is now up several decibels and you look at him with dagger eyes like at any moment you might strangle him.

“Please baby, you know how I hate yelling.” He pleads, tears forming in his eyes. You take one shaky exhale still furious but trying to control your tone. “I just- how could you? You kissed her.” Tears now forming in your own eyes as you look at him.

“No, no baby and I know that’s how it looked I’d be upset too, but please let me explain.”

“Fine.” You reply sharply.

“Ok, ok thank you.” He says sitting down on the edge of the bed. “When you went to the bathroom that girl came up to me and was being nice, bubbly, saying how much she liked my music and everything and then I don’t know she must’ve misread the situation and she kissed me and well I guess that’s when you had walked out of the bathroom.”

“How did she misread the situation?”

“What?”

“How did she misread the situation?” You repeat.

“I don’t know. I was just being nice, I don’t know.” he poorly defends him.

“Were you flirting?” You walk towards him the fiery look back in your eyes.

“I- I guess… maybe. I was just trying to be nice.” You have closed the distance to him and are now standing over him.

“You shouldn’t be flirting with anyone but me, and you especially shouldn’t be letting anyone else kiss up on you.”

“I- I…” he tries to protest but then you’re on him, kissing him with a fierce passion. He reaches his arms up to wrap them around your waist but you stop him, removing them.

“No.”

“Baby, please.” He whines.

“No. Did I say you could touch me? You’re gonna do what I say, till I prove I’m the only woman you need.” You say, your jealousy boiling over. He just lets out a loud exhale through his nose as a response. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but secretly he loved when you got like this, all jealous and possessive. He loved the way you’d take control, telling him what to do. You take both your legs and straddle his lap, pulling your dress up at the sides then lowering yourself to start grinding against his already growing erection. You start off at a slow tortuous pace causing a soft moan to fall from his lips. He instinctively thrusts his hips up to try and get more contact but you push them back down.

“No.”

“Why?” He whines.

“I told you. I am in control tonight. Stay still.” You command. You continue grinding down on him, now harder, circling your hips, and he keeps moaning louder. You weave your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck tugging slightly as you lean down to give him a kiss before moving down to suck on his neck, knowing you’ll leave your mark. You could feel the slick of your own wetness soaking through your panties and getting onto his dress slacks. You lift your hips off him and pull your panties off, your bare pussy sitting on his pants now. He gasps at the sight and you could tell he was more needy than ever so you start grinding down again. You were drawing the filthiest moans out of his lips mixed with curses and you felt electric pleasure from the way you had him worked up. You felt his cock twitch beneath you and you knew he was close, so you stopped.

“Please angel, I’m close.” He pleaded.

“No, not yet.” Your lips pull into a devilish smirk, turned on by your hold on him. He lets out a single whine is response knowing there was no use fighting you. You sat there not moving for a good thirty seconds, just staring at him lustfully, knowing how much it’d drive him crazy. Then without saying a word you reach behind yourself and pull down the zipper of your dress then pull the garment fully off leaving you completely naked before him. You feel his cock twitch as his eyes land on your bare round breasts.

“Suck them.” You command holding your own breasts with your hands. He listens immediately, his mouth latching onto one of your breasts sucking hard, tongue circling the nipple. As his mouth works your breast you reach down unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers to free his aching cock. You start by rubbing your palm on his tip getting it slick with precum, then pumping your hand up and down the shaft causing him to involuntarily buck his hips up.

“No.”

“M’sorry.” He whispers, barely audible.

“Enough talking, get back to work.”

You continue pumping him, your grip firm and you occasionally rub the tip with your thumb. He starts to moan around your breast, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine.

“Switch.” You command, and knowing exactly what you mean he moves from one breast to the other. He starts to whimper as you grip him harder, pumping your hand like you want to milk him dry.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“What?” He says, his mouth coming off your breast.

“Tell me, you’re mine, that I’m your only girl.” You repeat.

“I’m y-y-yours beautiful, you’re my- ohh god! My only girl!” He manages, trying to keep his composure as he sits on the edge of his orgasm again. He was weak under your touch, all the power in your hands, the man who owned the stage was falling apart because of you, before your very eyes.

“C-can I cum now baby? Please?”

“No.”

“Baby please! Please I can’t… s’overwhelming t-t-too much.” A genuine sob leaves his throat as a single tear runs down his cheek.

“Sorry. Not yet, you’ve been a bad boy.” Hearing that he lets out a guttural groan, from somewhere deep inside him. You remove your hand from him, and bring your head down to his cock and lick a slow deliberate stroke up his shaft, then circling the swollen tip with your tongue. His cock twitches once again, against your tongue and you watch him squeeze his eyes shut, hands gripping the sheets, trying not to buck his hips, forcing himself to obey you and not move. You then stand up and he lets out as whine as you break contact.

“Where, where ya going?” He whines again.

“Condom.” You answer him. “Scoot back on the bed and reach your arms back to grab the rails.” He lets out a relived sign at your words, and scoots back on the bed to comply with you. You walk over to the nightstand and pull a condom out of drawer, then come back and roll it onto his thick length after taking out of the packaging. You straddle him and tease his cock with your entrance before stopping to undo the tie on his shirt. You take then tie off and momentarily put it to the side while you slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. Once you finish the buttons you pull his shirt off his arms and discard it to some corner of the room. Even in your current state of mild anger you can’t help but drink in his beautiful dancer’s physique. Your eyes trail down his defined chest and stomach appreciating the slight sheen of sweat already there. You run your hands up and down his chest and torso taking you time to admire his body. You then grab the tie you set aside and use it as a rope to tie his wrists to the rails of the bed. He looks up and you licking his lips, eyes drunk with lust waiting impatiently for you start riding him. You line yourself up with him and without warning fully seat yourself on him causing a yelp to leave him.

You are riding him with a certain urgency you didn’t know you were capable of. With each snap of your hips you used his cock to grind against your clit. As you keep rolling your hips loud moans and whines leave your mouth as your need for pleasure takes over your body. You sweep down to lay a sloppy wet kiss on his lips and he meets you with his own mouth slipping his tongue inside yours. His breath was hot against your mouth and he let out whimpers of ecstasy.

“Mmm angel you fuck me so good. Feel so good around me god baby.” He whines out.

“You’ve… been… so…. bad” you say between thrusts.

“I’ve… been… so… bad baby… so… so… bad” he pants out. You sit up and ride him harder and deeper chasing your impending orgasm. He gives up resisting and deliberately bucks his hips up once.

“M’sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Mmmm whatever.” You don’t give a damn anymore and let him continue thrusting up into you to match your pace.

“Michael you’re so- fuck- mmm you fill me so well so good, so good!”

“Baby please, please you c-can’t say that I can’t control- can’t hold back any long I need to cum so bad.” He cries tears of overwhelm stream down his face.

“It’s- it’s ok baby you can… you can cum now.”

“Thank you baby! Ohhh godddd! Thank you- you’re so perfect baby I- ohhhh!” He screams out. The two of you then hit your peak at the same time, your walls clench hard around him as you try your best to ride out both your orgasm, breaking your previously steady rhythm.

“Fuck Michael, you’re so beautiful, so good!” The last ounce of anger finally leaves your body as you pull off him and clasp on the bed next to him.

You wrap your arms around his waist sinking into him.

“Uh baby… a little help here?”

“Ohh right… I completely forgot.” You respond realizing his hands are still tied up. You sit up and gingerly untie the tie releasing his wrists. You slink back into him, nuzzling your head into his neck and pull the sheets over the two of you. Then you wrap your arms around his middle and he slides an arm under your back resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you with half lidded eyes blinking from exhaustion.

“All is forgiven. I trust you.” You coo.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too Angelface.” You whisper back.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

It started since the second you saw him walk into the Michael movie set.

You swore you’ve never seen a man so perfect for you, so kind, so thoughtful, you feel your body screaming every time he talks. He’d always hang out with you in between takes telling you some old story about his family, sharing your favorite songs, you’d noticed the way he’d stare at you for a little longer than needed or how some way he’d always find a reason to put his arm around you, everyone noticed your natural chemistry, it was like you were magnets pulling each other, you just couldn’t stay away.

But there was always something or rather….someone stopping you from getting too close to him, his fiancée, she was cool or so you’ve heard.

She was always there, sticking out like a sore thumb, always standing behind him like she was his bodyguard, eyeing you down, smiling at you then rolling her eyes as she turned around…always there.

But there was one day…one peaceful day, where she was nowhere to be found, which was the moment both of you snapped.

After the day wrapped Jaafar pulled you into his trailer, kissing and gropping on you like a man starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, he felt his head go hazy the moment his lips touched you, he hasn’t felt this way in a long time…10 years to be exact. He grinds his bulge against as he pushes you against the wall, hard, not letting you leave even if you wanted to.

“This is wrong” he says as he kisses and bites your neck “M’ engaged” he said feeling the slightest bit of guilt, he was raised better than this after all.

“Then why are you here?” you say in between raged breaths

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t have any answers, not a verbal one at least, his hands going up your dress and hooking to the fabric of your panties was enough.

And then it kept going. Everytime Maddie was foolish enough to take hehe attention away from Jaafar he was on you

She arrived late to set? You were in his trailer stuffing your mouth with his dick

Girls night with her friends? He was at your place almost immediately

He felt so high off of you, and you of him, you knew this was wrong but you just couldn’t stop, the thought of you giving him something he hasn’t felt in so long just excited you that much more.

“Does she get this wet for you baby?” you would ask softly in his ear as you were riding him in a slow agonizing pace that had him sweating and moaning your name like a prayer.

“Tell me Jaafar, does she move like this for you?”

He would shake his head no, mumbling against your lips, his arms wrapped around your waist hoping he was able to memorize your every curve, hoping this would never end.

“no no no” he kissed you sloppily “She’s nothing like you, i don’t lie baby, you’re the best” he said biting his lip, thrusting his hips right back into you

This could be a problem.

…

Upon arriving to the Japan premiere the crowd was buzzing with excitement as you walked through the carpet, stopping to get some pictures with the rest of the cast. Suddenly you see him come out of the car, wearing a black michael-inspired jacket, he looked amazing, good enough for you to eat, he steps out of the car with his usual warm smile, waving at the crowd and just as you’re about to get excited…she’s stepping out of the car as well, you didn’t even notice that you rolled your eyes, you act like it’s whatever, it just makes you feel a little bit better, at least.

But he’s all you think about.

The second Jaafar saw you in your beautiful dress he could take his eyes off you, the way it pushed your boobs up and hugged your body in all the right places, he wish he could take it off right then and there and fuck you while everyone is watching.

“Look at me” Maddie said snapping Jaafar out of his trance as they posed for the cameras. He couldn’t look at her, he just gave her a faint smile then turned his attention away from her. She noticed. And you did too, you couldn’t help but smirk right at her.

…

You heard him in the distance “I’m here with my fiance tonight and…yeah she’s amazing” he smiled to the interviewer.

If she so amazing, why was he on your side of town every other night? you thought

Throughout the premiere, every conversation with Jaafar seemed to earn you another glance from Maddie. They weren’t subtle, either—her eyes flicking between the two of you whenever he leaned in and touched your waist or laughed at something you said.

You caught her watching more than once, her smile growing tighter each time, while Jaafar either didn’t notice or chose not to acknowledge it.

“You look…just gorgeous” he said as he gently stroked your arm, the difference between the way he looked at you and how he looked at her was so striking

“I don’t think i’m the one you should be calling gorgeous” you said making him roll his eyes into the back of his skull. He really didn’t want you to know, but before leaving he had a nasty fight with Maddie…about you. She basically prohibit him from coming close to you tonight, which of course, he didn’t follow.

The rest of the night happens in a blur, you notice Maddie got up and left in the middle of the movie, not before shooting a look at you, for a second you thought Jaafar would get up to follow her, but he didn’t, he looked in between irritated and calm.

And then you’re right back where you started, is this gonna end ever? you’ll just fuck around and find out

You enter your room while Jaafar is desperately kissing you

“Jaaf-“ he cut you off

“No, please stop” he said as he kissed your neck “It’s been too long, need you so bad”

You nodded and pulled him to the bed, you hover over him, his hands go to the back of your dress, slowly pulling down the zipper as you worked on unbuttoning his shirt and pants

Once you were both naked he quickly flipped you over “I’ve been thinking about this since i saw you today” his hands roamed through your body, like it was the first time he saw it

“She’s nothing like you” he bites his lip before moving his hand down to your clit, circling over it, staring down at the way your pussy pulsates every time he touches it, every time he praises you.

“You make me go crazy” he says as he lines himself up to your entrance “I would’ve never acted like this before knowing you, m’ crazy for you”

Is it really love if it’s not this crazy?

He slams into you, making the headboard creek against the wall, taking all his pent up frustration out on you, he burried his head on your neck, whimpering and moaning your name

“You missed me J?” You say softly against his ear, his thrusts are rough against you, but the moment you talk you can feel his dick twitching inside you

“S-So much mmmph” he said “Can’t stay away from this, can’t help it” he grunts

“Fuck J you fuck me so good” you claw your nails on his back “How come she has this at home and she doesn’t appreciate it? hm?”

“She’s a bitch” his mouth betrayed him before he could even think, his hips snapping harder into you “She’s not like you, she’s fucking jealous that she would never get me like this for her again”

“Jaafar” you gasp loudly feeling your orgasm build up as his dick touches that spongy spot on you

“I got you baby” his hand goes back down to your clit, earning a sweet moan from you “Need it, i need it so bad baby, c’mon, be good to me”

Your hips buck up as you cum, the way you squeeze around him is more than enough for him to cum too, he wanted to pull out, but god knows your pussy felt so good around him, he couldn’t deprive himself from painting you with his dick.

After a while he pulls out of you, moving to the bathroom to get a damp towel to cleanse you up. He softly moves the towel over your pussy making you whine a bit from how sensitive sensitive you are

“Sorry” he chuckles softly as he finishes “…Mind if i stay for a while?” he said in his distinct shy tone, like he didn’t just put you through the mattress.

“As long as you’d like”

The next day came, sun beaming through the blinds of your room, you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to se next to you and notice Jaafar gone, probably back in his room in the middle of the night now laying by her side again. Suddenly you feel a big warm pair of hands embracing you from behind, then soft lips leaving kisses at the creek of your neck.

You turn to your side to meet him, his curls are messy, but he’s wearing that same smile that always pulls you right back in.

“Good morning” he says caressing your cheek giving you a sleepy grin

You smile back at him “Do you remember last night?” you asked

“Can’t forget if i tried”

This was always gonna be a problem.

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I’m sorry if the second half feels kinda rushed??? i feel like i lost my magic touch with smut it was so difficult to write omg

requested　﹒　anon ♡

The late afternoon sun filters through the grand, arched windows of the entry hall at Neverland, casting long, dancing shadows across the gleaming marble floors. Michael is sitting on a long, ornate bench, its dark, carved wood a stark contrast to the bright, airy space. He's wearing a simple, white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of black, tailored trousers. His feet are bare, a small, uncharacteristic act of casual comfort that speaks to the quiet solitude of the moment.

He's fidgeting. His long, elegant fingers tap a restless, syncopated rhythm on the polished wood of the bench. He checks his watch, a sleek, gold Cartier, then immediately regrets it, a small, frustrated sigh escaping his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous, agitated gesture that is so unlike his usual, polished poise. He's waiting.

And then, he hears it. The crunch of gravel on the long, winding driveway. The low, familiar rumble of an engine. A slow, bright smile spreads across his face, a genuine, unguarded expression of pure, unadulterated joy. He's on his feet in a single, fluid movement, a graceful, almost dancer-like burst of energy that is full of a boyish, impatient anticipation.

The heavy, oak door swings open, and you step inside, blinking against the sudden shift from the bright California sun to the cool, dim light of the hall. The door swings shut behind you with a soft, solid thud, and before you can even take a proper breath, he's there.

He wraps you in a hug that is so tight, so fiercely possessive, it almost knocks the breath out of you. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, a contented, sighing sound of pure, unadulterated bliss.

"You're back," he murmurs, his voice a muffled, happy rumble against your neck. "You're back."

"M'back," you echo, your words a soft, breathy laugh as you wrap your arms around him, your hands splayed across the warm, solid expanse of his back. "Miss me?"

He pulls back, but only just enough to look at you. His face is a beautiful, brilliant smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a light so bright it could rival the California sun. And then, he starts kissing you.

It's not a passionate, demanding kiss. It's a barrage of soft, sweet, impossibly warm kisses, a joyful, chaotic celebration of your return. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your chin. He's a flurry of affection, a human hummingbird, a whirlwind of happy, welcoming kisses. You're laughing, a loud, unrestrained sound that is full of a deep, abiding happiness, trying to duck and dodge his playful assault.

"Michael!" you gasp, between fits of laughter. "Stop! I can't breathe!"

He finally relents, pulling back with a final, soft kiss on your forehead. He's still holding you, his hands gentle, firm on your waist, a happy, contented hum vibrating in his chest.

"Sorry," he says, but he's not sorry at all. His smile is a full, brilliant, megawatt thing that makes your heart do a funny little flip. "I jus' missed you."

"I missed you too," you say, your voice a soft, affectionate murmur. You reach up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Your fingers linger on his skin, a soft, familiar caress.

"I have a surprise f'you," you say, a playful, mysterious glint in your eye.

His own eyes light up, a childlike, eager curiosity that is utterly endearing. "A surprise?" he repeats, his voice a low, intrigued whisper. "What is it?"

"You have to wait," you say, pulling away from him and taking a step back toward the door. "I have t'go back to the car t'get it. Don't peek."

You turn and disappear back through the heavy oak door, leaving him standing in the middle of the grand hall, a look of happy, confused anticipation on his face. He paces, a slow, restless circuit around the marble-topped table in the center of the room, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He's like a kid on Christmas morning, a bundle of excited, nervous energy.

The door opens again, and you reappear, your arms laden with goodies. You're holding a large, familiar red and white bucket, the glorious, greasy aroma of fried chicken filling the air, a stark, delicious contrast to the usually pristine, scent-free environment of the house. Tucked under your arm is a black plastic DVD case, the colorful, cartoonish image of a giant, floating baby on the cover.

His eyes widen, a look of pure, unadulterated delight on his face. "Is that…?" he asks, his voice a hushed, reverent whisper.

"Is it what?" you ask, a playful, innocent smile on your face. "This old thing?"

He closes the distance between you in three long, eager strides, his eyes fixed on the bucket. "KFC," he breathes, the word a happy, worshipful sigh. "I was just thinking about how good KFC would be."

"And that's not all," you say, presenting the DVD case to him with a flourish. "I present t'you, the cinematic masterpiece of our time: 'Honey, I Blew Up the Kid'."

He lets out a loud, delighted laugh, a beautiful, uninhibited sound that echoes in the vast, empty hall. He takes the bucket from you, his fingers brushing against yours, a warm, electric spark. He peeks inside the bucket, inhaling deeply.

"Oh, you're a saint," he says, his voice full of a grateful, almost tearful sincerity. "A true, honest-t'God saint."

"I try," you say, a self-satisfied smirk on your face. "Now, I'm going t'go change into something a little less… public. I'll meet you in th' theatre."

You give him a quick, mischievous wink, then turn and head for the grand staircase, your footsteps a light, happy sound on the marble.

You find him in the private theatre, a space that is less a room and more an experience. There's no stadium seating here, no sticky floors or overpriced popcorn. Instead, a single, plush, red velvet armchair sits in the center of the room, an oversized, decadent throne that is big enough for two. It's facing a massive, wall-sized screen, the soft glow of the menu screen for the DVD casting a warm, cinematic light across the space.

He's already in the chair, looking small and almost swallowed by its plush, velvet expanse. He's kicked off his shoes and has the bucket of chicken balanced precariously on the wide armrest. He's already wearing a pair of soft, grey sweatpants and a faded black Motown t-shirt, a comfortable, casual look that you rarely see him in outside the privacy of your shared spaces. He looks up as you enter, a soft, welcoming smile on his face.

You've changed too, swapping your jeans and t-shirt for a pair of your own soft, worn-in pajamas. You climb into the chair beside him, the velvet cushioning sighing under your weight. You snuggle up against him, your head resting on his shoulder, your legs tangled with his. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, a gesture that is as natural and as essential as breathing.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice a low, soft murmur against your hair.

"Ready," you say, your voice a happy, contented sigh.

He presses a button on a small, remote control, and the theatre lights dim, the room plunging into a soft, velvety darkness. The screen flickers to life, the familiar, boisterous theme music of a 90s family comedy filling the silence.

He reaches for the bucket, pulling out a piece of chicken. The crispy, golden skin glistens in the light from the screen. He breaks off a piece, holding it to your lips.

"Open up," he says, a playful, commanding tone in his voice.

You obey, your lips closing around the piece of chicken. It's glorious. Greasy, salty, a little bit spicy, a forbidden, delicious treat in this temple of health-consciousness. You moan, a low, guttural sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"Good, right?" he asks, a proud, triumphant smirk on his face as he takes a bite for himself.

"Amazing," you say, your mouth still full.

You settle in, a comfortable, happy silence falling between you, broken only by the sounds of the movie and the occasional, happy sigh as you both devour the chicken. You pass the bucket back and forth, your fingers slick with grease, your hearts full of a simple, profound contentment. It's these moments you cherish the most. Not the grand, public spectacles, not the dazzling, sold-out concerts, but these quiet, private moments of pure, unadulterated normalcy.

The movie is exactly what you expected it to be: ridiculous, heartwarming, and utterly delightful. You find yourselves laughing at the same silly jokes, your bodies shaking with shared amusement. He's completely engrossed, his dark eyes fixed on the screen, a look of childlike wonder on his face. He's humming along to the soundtrack, a soft, tuneless murmur that is more endearing than any symphony.

About halfway through the movie, he shifts, reaching for the thick, fleece blanket that is draped over the back of the chair. He shakes it out, a billowing cloud of soft, warm fabric, then drapes it over the both of you. It's a cozy, intimate gesture, a small, simple act that makes your heart swell with a love so fierce it almost takes your breath away.

You snuggle deeper under the blanket, your body pressed against his. The warmth of him, the softness of the fleece, the delicious, greasy remnants of the chicken, the silly, comforting drone of the movie—it's a perfect, self-contained bubble of happiness.

You can feel yourself starting to drift, the events of the day, the contentment of the moment, a warm, heavy blanket pulling you down into a soft, welcoming sleep. Your head is still on his shoulder, your breathing starting to slow, to sync with the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

You're vaguely aware of the giant baby on the screen causing some kind of chaos in a shopping mall, the familiar, boisterous sounds of a cinematic climax. But it all seems very far away, muffled and distant, like you're hearing it from underwater.

You feel him shift again, a slow, deliberate movement. His arm tightens around you, pulling you even closer. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, a gesture that is so full of love, so full of a deep, abiding tenderness, that it makes your heart ache.

"Love you," he murmurs, his voice a low, sleepy mumble against your hair.

You try to respond, to tell him that you love him too, but the words won't come. You're too far gone, already floating in that warm, hazy space between wakefulness and sleep. You manage a soft, contented sigh, a nonverbal response that you know he will understand.

He shifts again, his own body starting to relax, to soften. His head droops, resting against yours. You can feel the soft, tickling brush of his hair against your cheek, the warm, steady rhythm of his breath, a slow, calming cadence that lulls you deeper into sleep.

The movie plays on, its bright, flashing lights a silent, colorful spectacle in the darkened room. The bucket of chicken sits forgotten on the armrest, the last piece of chicken getting cold. Outside, the sun has set, the last of the day's light fading from the sky, plunging Neverland into a deep, peaceful darkness.

But in here, in this oversized, velvet throne, there is a different kind of light. There is the warmth of the blanket, the warmth of his body, the warmth of a love that is as simple and as profound as this. There is the quiet, rhythmic sound of two hearts beating in perfect sync, a steady, unwavering rhythm that is the only soundtrack that matters.

You fall asleep, a deep, dreamless, peaceful sleep, your body curled into his, your head on his shoulder. He follows you moments later, his own breathing deepening, his body going slack with sleep.

And there you stay, a tangled, sleeping heap in the middle of the private theatre, a silent, still portrait of a perfect, ordinary, extraordinary moment. A king in his castle, and you, his queen, asleep on a throne, wrapped in a blanket, with the faint, lingering scent of fried chicken in the air. A strange, beautiful, perfect fairy tale.

— 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 ♡ tagged: @hawtstreet @mjssolocup @king-mila @pheebsglow @camillemonroe @neverstreett @imeatingheehee @cottonkhandyy @loveposiie @khxna

you gently press a kiss to his cheek, sniffing the crook of his neck.

"w-what are you doing, mama?"

"i just want to make you feel good, huh? you smell so good, sweetie."

when you get on your knees you can see closer how hard he is.

"b-baby, what are you doing? don't do that. you're a respectable woman"

oh, a respectable woman? you want to laugh.

instead of laughing, you unzip his jeans and pull his hard length out of his boxers. you lick all his cock, gently caressing his balls.

"m-mama nghnnnnnn-d-don't do that nghnnn"

you let out a little chuckle. he's so cute when he's whining. now, you have your mouth around his cock. drooling all over it. it's wet.

"b-baby....nghnnnnn.....nghnnn...s-stop don't"

his sweet voice is telling you to stop. but unconsciously he presses his hand on your head, fucking your throat.

"ohhh-h nghnn i'm close....take.....nghnnnn take it off" he lets your head free. he moves his hips back, trying to get away from your mouth. but you don't let your hunt escape. you place both hands on his hips, keeping him there. his cum leaks from his cock. it's a lot, a bit of it slips from your mouth, but you take most of it.

"you're such a good boy, baby"

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Dates consisted of long walks where whenever your shoulders, and your hands brushed together...a sudden jolt made you both shiver and make your cheeks warm. And entire evenings were spent together, making deep talks about everything under the sun—yet when your eyes met, you both would go into a lull of silence, smiles on your bashful faces.

Michael had once been every bit as timid as you, maybe even worse.

But time had changed him. Fatherhood had changed him—and God, did he look magnificent with the glow it brought. It was like he was destined to be a father.

He'd became even gentler somehow. Calmer, certain. He walked with purpose, and confidence now, willing to do anything and lay down everything for his family, his world.

He became more self-assured.

He no longer questioned whether or not he deserved happiness.

Because every morning, happiness slept beside him.

Although for you, somehow, seven years of marriage hadn't changed one very important thing about you.

You were still impossibly, incredibly, and adorably shy.

The nervous smiles, the way you would tuck your face into Michael's shoulder whenever too people would look at you, and the way you would immediately pull away and look off into another direction when it was Michael that stared at you.

You never really grew out of that, not really. And Michael just thought it was the cutest thing ever.

———————

"Mrs. Jackson?" The interior designer called out as they walked into the living room.

"What color were you thinking for Ms. Paris and Mr. Prince's playroom?" They asked with a polite smile.

You looked up from where you sat next to Michael on the couch. Suddenly, every worker in the room looked at you. The decorators, contractors, assistants. Your cheeks immediately warmed.

You instinctively tried to hide your face into Michael's shoulder but he evaded you and sat up straight. You looked at him with a slightly horrified expression.

Michael smiled without even looking away from the papers in his lap. "Baby?" His voice was gentle. "What were you telling me this morning?"

You stared at him, eyes wide. "The..."

You swallowed. "The pale...yellow..."

"A little louder." He said softly. You almost melted from him saying that, biting your lower lip. He glanced at you, raising his eyebrow. "They can't hear you, mama..." he smiled, amused.

It wasn't fair, he was making you flustered! He knew damn well what he was doing to you—the effect he still had on you after all these years.

"Pale...yellow..." You spoke up a little louder than a mouse.

"I can't hear you, baby." He leaned in closer, grinning handsomely.

You huffed, what a tease! "Michael..."

He bit the inside of his cheek, putting a hand to the small of your back, encouraging you. "You can do it, beautiful."

You just closed your eyes shut, not bearing to look at Michael's expression in that moment. You can already see the teasing smirk on his annoyingly hot face.

"Pale yellow! I'd like...pale yellow." You spoke up. Michael smiled proudly.

The workers all hummed, enthusiastic about your choice. "Perfect! Great idea, Mrs. Jackson." They all the dispersed to get back to working on the new playroom.

You then gently smacked Michael's arm, your lips pressed together. He dramatically held his arm. "Owww...."

"Don't you oww me...you knew they heard me..." You breathed out, embarrassed.

"I did." He admitted easily.

Your eyes went wide, you covered your face and sank into the couch. "You embarrassed me..."

Michael laughed. "I helped you, baby."

"Helped? Michael you—you—"

"I did what?" He leaned in closer to you, his face mere inches from yours. His gaze flickering down to your lips as he smiled slowly. Your mouth was slightly agape, you could practically explode right then and there. "Hm?" He hummed with that shit-eating, handsome grin.

This really wasn't fair!

You tucked your face into his shoulder, making him laugh brightly.

"I hate you..." You said, muffled.

He kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, honey."

You groaned at that, making him laugh even more.

———————

One evening, the house was unusually quiet.

Prince had finally fallen asleep after playing and operating through out the day in a different time frame. Paris was tucked beneath her favorite blanket, hugging her favorite stuffed toy. Only the sound of warm water drifted from upstairs.

Michael sat by the piano, trying again and again. Another melody, another unfinished song that he wasn't satisfied in. Nothing sounded right for his new album Invincible. Until...

"Da de-de-da Da de-de-da, da de-de-da Da de-de-da, da-da..."

His fingers froze on the ivory keys, he peeked his head up at the stairs and headed towards the sound quietly.

"Da de -de -da, da de -de-da Da de-de-da de-de-da..."

You were humming. Like you always did.

You had always insisted to him that you weren't good at singing or that your voice wasn't good whenever he would ask you to sing for him throughout the years—but you were never really a good liar.

Whenever you were happy, at peace, and calm—you'd hum something that was composed with your heart. He noticed that the day you first met.

You hummed when he held hands with you, shyly looking away from each other on your first date.

You hummed when Michael laid his head on your lap, helping him doze off.

You hummed when you first cradled your babies: Prince & Paris in your arms, with the most radiant smile on your face.

His heart warmed. You were just so cute, so endearing.

He quietly reached inside of his pocket, producing his tiny handheld recorder he'd keep on his person always—you'll never know when inspiration channels back to you!

He then pressed record.

"Da de-de de-da, lda de-da-dum Da de -de -de -da, da-dum, da-dum, da-dum..."

His smile was so wide, it hurt his cheeks. He could already imagine your face when you realize you were gonna be in his next song.

He can always apologize later.

———————

Over the next few weeks, he collected that familiar melody you always hummed.

Every take was perfect, but really at this point—he just collected your humming because he was kinda obsessed with hearing it all the time. He was obsessed with you in general, really.

Sometimes, he didn't even record. He'd just watch you.

You stood barefoot in the kitchen one morning whilst he washed the dishes. You yawned. You wore one of his shirts, hanging off your shoulder. You balanced Prince easily on your hip, bouncing him in one arm as you fed Paris in her high chair with your other hand.

You had baby food on your cheek. Some kind of marker or paint staining the sleeve of his shirt. You thought you looked awful, but so be it.

But Michael...lord, he could barely breathe. He bit his lip, his scrubbing slowing down.

God...you are so beautiful. No.

Beautiful didn't cut it.

You were...everything.

He watched the way you kissed Prince's forehead gently, brushing his blonde hair.

He watched the way you laughed when Paris accidentally spilled her milk, cleaning it up with a smile.

He watched the way you weren't hesitant at all when it came to your family.

His stomach fluttered. Like he was in his twenties again, seeing you for the first time.

Butterflies.

He stopped scrubbing the plate, biting his lower lip even more as he eyed you wipe the back of your neck with a tissue, sweat dripping down your neck.

His thoughts wandered somewhere very dangerous at that moment...dear God, was he ovulating??

He let out a quiet whistle when he saw you fan yourself by flapping the hem of his shirt, showing the slightest bit of your stomach.

He swear he could've just fell to his knees at that moment.

Thank you Lord. He prayed for times like this.

You just had no idea...absolutely no idea what you did to him.

Even looking like this. Especially, looking like this.

He wished that everyone else in the house could just go for a moment so that he could kiss you, touch you...taste you—

Suddenly, the plate slipped out of his hands, almost breaking and making a loud sound in the sink. You jumped as Prince and Paris continued playing, not caring about the loud sound at all since they were also making loud sounds.

"Michael? Are you okay?" You immediately asked, turning around with concern etched on your beautiful face.

Michael couldn't answer you, he just kept staring at you with a flush appearing on his high cheekbones. You figured out that he was also feeling hot from the heat.

"It's so hot today, let's just sit down and rest for a bit." You said softly with a small smile on your beautiful face.

He just kept staring at you—naturally making you nervous. "Is there...something on my face...??"

He smiled. "Yeah."

You hurriedly wiped your cheek, "Did I get it?"

"No." He muttered. You rubbed harder. "Did I get it now?"

He shook his head, you frowned. He then reached to your face, brushing his thumb against the upper part of your cheek. "There, baby..."

Your breath caught, you gulped, sweat dripping down your neck. "Thank you..."

"'so pretty.." He mumbled, pupils dilated as he then placed lingering kisses to your forehead, to your temples, to your cheek, down to your neck...

"Michael, the kids—" You said, your breath caught in your chest as your face was incredibly warm.

As if on cue, Prince suddenly spilled his cereal on the floor, making Michael dip his head dramatically and exhale. He then started cleaning up after Prince.

You watched him clean, the flush still warm at the back of your neck.

———————

After that very hot afternoon, he found himself writing on random papers that evening. Words spilled out of him effortlessly.

All you got to do is walk away and pass me by Don't acknowledge my smile...

He smiled to himself, thinking about you.

When I try to say hello to you, yeah And all you gotta do is not answer my call...

It was all about you. Every lyric somehow circled back to you.

When I'm tryna get through Keep me wonderin' why when all I can do is sigh...

Every thought.

I just wanna touch you.

Every desire. Everything. All about you. He was crazy about you.

The woman who still gets awkward and adorable when he complimented her even after almost 2 decades together.

The woman who still hid behind him, tucking her face into his shoulder.

The woman who unknowingly riles him up, driving him absolutely insane.

He dropped his pen, burying his face into his hands, feeling flustered himself. God...this was too much. He smiled, laughing to himself. He could just die from happiness.

———————

Months later, he had finally finished making the song. He made sure to hide it from you as a surprise, but he just couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to see your reaction to it ASAP.

One late afternoon, the sunlight painted the Neverland gardens gold and orange.

Prince let out a laugh as he chased a squirrel around the lawn, Paris was sat next to the gardens, curiously watching the workers as they carefully planted the new flowers for the next season, and carefully trimming the hedges.

The fountains sparkled beneath the California sun, the wind growing colder. Michael watched his children for awhile, a smile on his face.

He then walked up next to you, taking your hand in his. You visibly became shy at that—making him grin.

"Come with me." He urged.

"What? Where?"

"It's a surprise, baby."

You thought for a moment, "I should stay with—"

He chuckled. "The workers are watching them. Just five minutes, please?"

He tugged you gently, you smiled, your heart warming at his request and went along with him. You had that cute curious look on your face, making his heart warm as well.

———————

He closed the door behind you, you both then sat in his personal studio in Neverland. He dimmed the lights, turned up the volume of the speakers, and pressed play. Soft strings floated all around your ears pleasantly.

Then...

Butterflies Michael whispered out in the start.

Da de-de-da Da de-de-da, da de-de-da Da de-de-da, da-da...

Your eyes widened at hearing a familiar hum. Not just any other hum. It was yours.

"Michael."

He just smiled, not answering you. Then his voice entered.

Smooth, gentle, longing, and sensual. It made your spine shiver delightfully. Then you started focusing on the lyrics at the chorus...

I just wanna touch and kiss And I wish that I could be with you tonight (You give me) 'Cause you give me butterflies Inside, inside and I

Your hands flew to your face in shock. As the lyrics unfolded, you slowly realized that every line, every word, every yearning confession, and every romantic desire...they were all pointed towards you.

"...Michael..." You breathed out, still covering your face.

He laughed, covering his grin with his fingers. "What?"

You refused to meet his gaze. "...It's about me."

"Mhm." He hummed lowly, tapping his foot along to the tempo. He grinned widely, biting his bottom lip. "Clever girl."

You felt yourself melt when he said that, you frantically fanned yourself with your hands.

"You—You...wrote these lyrics?"

He nodded casually, his eyes fixated on you, licking his lips.

"You...You think—wish—about kissing me this much??" You asked, an incredibly flustered expression on your face.

He shook his head with a serious look. "Nope. More."

Your eyes were impossibly big as you heard that he wanted to taste you! "Michael Joseph Jackson!" You yelped out.

"Okay, that one might be too dirty, I'll cut that one out...but y'know what I meant." He said with a breathy chuckle.

"I wish I didn't." You murmured, burying your lower face in the thick collar of your turtleneck.

"You liked it, didn't you?" He teased. You glanced at him and almost combusted.

"I did not say that!" You defended yourself weakly.

"You aren't denying it though..." He said in a sing-song manner, looking at you with that look in his face.

You stared at him. This was just so unfair!

You buried your face in your hands once more. "Oh my goodness..."

He then stood up from where he sat, leaning down at you and grabbing your chin gently, lifting your face until your eyes met. "So..." He whispered.

"Did the song work?"

"What...what do you mean?"

He patted your stomach affectionately, smiling at you with those pretty eyes of his. "You've got butterflies huh?"

You scoffed, looking away. "I do not..."

"You do." He leaned in even closer.

"I don't..." You murmured.

"You can't even look at me, mama..." He said gently in your ear, making you weak in the knees.

"Stop..." You could only protest weakly, not even trying to push or pull yourself away from him. You even had a dreamy smile on your face despite your words.

He grinned at that. "Nah." He stated simply.

"You're impossible, Mike..." You breathed out, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked at him.

"Yet you married me." He chuckled out. You rolled your eyes at that.

"I've been married to the shyest person in the universe for seven years..." He teased you, making you gasp and scoff playfully.

"Yet somehow...she still makes me shy too." He confessed, your eyes softened.

"You?"

"Yeah...everyday, baby. You drive me wild." He chuckled, a bashful smile on his face.

The confession had melted some of your embarrassment away. You then laughed, at least you weren't alone in your suffering. You reached to his face, brushing a loose dark strand away from his face.

"I love you, Michael." You said so tenderly, it made him almost weak in the knees too.

"I love you more." He breathed out, a bit desperate and so entranced by you.

He kissed you—slowly, passionately, lingering long enough for you both to smile into it. When you both pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours with a playful glint in his dark, bambi-like eyes.

“You know…” He started.

“Hm?”

“I wrote all those lyrics because every time I see you, I still end up wondering if I can steal a little more of your attention… another kiss… maybe convince you to spend the evening with me once the kids are asleep.” He said with half lidded eyes, biting his lip whilst looking at you.

Your cheeks immediately flared.

“Michael…”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that.”

“I just did.”

He chuckled as you lightly swatted his chest.

“You are so mean.”

“I’m teasing.”

“I know.”

“…Mostly.”

Your eyes widened again.

“Mostly?”

Before you could protest, he drew you into another kiss, and you laughed softly against his lips.

Just as his hands settled around your waist, and he started deepening a kiss, drawing a wonderful sound from you—

Outside, a loud crash and some shouts were heard.

You immediately pulled away from Michael and almost ripped the curtains. You and him gaped at what you saw.

“M—Mr. Jackson! Prince! Please…let go of the hose!” One of the workers pleaded as Prince just laughed mischievously and started spraying everyone in the vicinity.

Paris was in the garden beds, covered in dirt as she ripped out every new flower and replanted them back…root side up. She just smiled and cheered at her own accomplishment.

The workers were frantically and gently trying to stop the havoc of the two children, but failing miserably.

Michael sighed dramatically.

“Our children…”

“Our children!” You exclaimed out, already half way downstairs.

He blinked, he didn’t even know you were that fast as he watched you run out into the lawn, your skirt bundled up in one hand, chasing Prince around as he hosed down and waterboarded the newly planted grass.

Once you caught Prince into your arms, you went to Paris to stop her from making her own garden arrangement when suddenly—Prince broke free from your hold and ran around again.

When you looked away from Paris, she was gone in a second, following after her brother. Both of them laughing and squealing as they threw mud on the workers.

The workers just laughed light-heartedly as they let the two toddlers have their messy fun. You apologized profusely and didn’t hesitate to do so.

Michael watched you with a smile of pure adoration. You were really an amazing woman.

When it came to your family, you never hesitated to act and put aside your own nature.

He sighed dreamily, laughing a little as he watched you.

You then looked at the window upstairs.

“Michael!” You called out, the loudest he’s ever heard you call his name. He immediately sat up.

“Help me down here—Prince and Paris have somehow teamed up with the squirrel and is chasing the gardeners!”

The workers all yelled playfully as Prince, Paris, and the squirrel chased them. You couldn’t hold back your laughter either as you rushed over, trying—and failing—to hide your laughter as you scooped Paris into your arms and Prince running away.

He laughed brightly, immediately running downstairs to join in the chaos.

.

.

.

yet, even with this shift in your relationship, you didn't lose the easy friendship you'd always shared. you still hung out just like you used to, but now there was a sweet buzz humming underneath everything. michael was always flirting with you, finding ways to make your face burn, and though you'd never admit it to him, you absolutely loved it.

in turn, you never passed up an opportunity to tease him back, watching with satisfaction as he blushed and shied away from your touch. those playful days turned into quiet nights, with michael dragging you out on late-night walks around the neighbourhood. you'd walk hand-in-hand, your shoulders brushing, talking about everything and nothing until your eyes grew heavy.

it made you feel closer to him than you'd ever been before.

the change happened so easily it almost surprised you, but if you were being honest, neither of you wanted to slow it down.

and it wasn't that you guys wanted to keep secrets or didn't want anyone to find out about you two. you just really wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. you wanted the space to figure things out and enjoy the bubble of being together without any outside noise.

these days, the two of you had gotten pretty good at sneaking around. hayvenhurst was always buzzing with his family, which only made it more exciting.

michael would catch your eye from across the room, giving you a knowing look before slipping away. a few minutes later, you’d follow, only to be gently yanked into a dark linen closet or the narrow space beneath the back stairs.

his hands would immediately find your waist, dragging you flush against him before his mouth hungrily found yours. he’d hold you there, smiling against your lips as someone's footsteps passed just outside the door.

but it wasn't just the stolen kisses.

the two of you had recently started exploring whatever this was becoming. you still hadn't gone all the way yet — there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to rush it — but michael was eager, and somewhere along the way, he’d discovered just how much he loved making you feel good.

turns out, michael was a giver.

more than that, he was devoted to figuring out every single inch of you. he loved to kiss you — it was his favourite thing in the world, the way he'd lose himself in your mouth for hours — but he was just as obsessed with taking his time between your legs.

you couldn't even count how many times he’d ended up on his knees at the edge of his bed, his large hands pinning your thighs wide open while he buried his face in you.

he was an eater, plain and simple.

he’d spend hours down there, his tongue tracing your folds and sucking on your clit until your hips were bucking against the mattress and your throat was raw from trying to muffle your screams. he loved the taste of you, loved the drag of his tongue over your pussy. he’d stay down there until you were nothing but a trembling mess beneath him.

it had changed the way you looked at him. whenever you saw him working, all you could think about was the way he looked with his chin wet and his hair messy, looking up at you from between your thighs with those wide doe eyes, asking if he could do it again.

today was a day like no other. the heat at the hayvenhurst pool was buzzing with noise, music drifted across the patio, while his siblings were splashing and shouting over a game of... you actually weren't even sure what they were playing because your focus was on michael, and his was on you.

you’d been sitting on the edge, kicking your legs in the water. every time you looked up, you caught him watching you from his chair. he wasn't even trying to hide it.

his eyes would trail down the line of your swimsuit. whenever your eyes locked, he'd offer you a sly smile that made your stomach flip.

when you finally stood up and complained about the sun getting too hot, wanting to go inside to cool down. michael immediately stood up, saying he’ll accompany you.

you walked back toward the house together, your feet padding on the warm concrete patio before stepping onto the cool tile at the back entrance. the sudden blast of the air conditioning hit your damp skin, making you goosebump instantly. michael guided you up the stairs, the muffled shouts of his brothers fading more and more with every step you took toward his bedroom.

once you reached his door, he pushed it open and let you slip inside first, letting it click shut behind him.

you tossed your damp towel onto the chair by his desk, looking around with a grin. "thought you said you cleaned in here, mike. what's this?" you pointed to a messy pile of vinyl records and a couple of stray button-down shirts draped over his dresser.

michael scoffed, walking over with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "i did clean. that's... an organized system. i know exactly where everything is."

"sure you do," you teased, picking up a stray pillow from his armchair and tossing it lightly at his chest. "your socks are trying to escape from that bottom drawer, by the way."

he caught the pillow easily, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face. "hey, don't start. you're a guest in my room, you’re supposed t'be on your best behaviour."

"and if i'm not?" you challenged, crossing your arms.

michael tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a slow step toward you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "then i might have t’kick you out. send y'right back outside. throw y'in the pool, maybe?"

"you wouldn't," you laughed, keeping your eyes on his as you made a move to dodge around him toward the door.

but michael was too quick. with a quiet laugh, he stepped right into your path, his large hands catching your waist and steering you backward until your spine met the solid wood of his bedroom door.

he caged you in, his palms flat against the door on either side of your head. for a moment, you just stared at each other, both of you smiling, your breaths mingling in the quiet space. his eyes were bright and crinkling at the corners, before his gaze drifted down to your mouth.

the smile faded from his lips as he leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours. it was slow and sensual, his lips soft. it made your knees go weak. he tasted faintly of the soda he’d been drinking by the pool.

when he broke the kiss, he didn't pull back far. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your cheek.

"that swimsuit you're wearin'... 's unfair," he murmured, his voice low and raspy.

you bit your cheek with a tilt to your head, your hands finding his chest. "you don't like it?"

he shook his head.

"the opposite," he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips before his eyes trailed down your body. "you... y'look so beautiful. the colour looks so good against your skin, an' the way it fits you..."

“yeah?” you said so softly, with such a need in your voice that it almost came off as a moan to the boy in front of you. his cock throbbed — hard already, leaking and needy.

the slightest traces of a moan in your throat is what told him that this teasing was no longer innocent.

he nodded. his fingers gently hooked into the side strap at your hip, tracing the soft curve. his skin was still warm from the sun, making you shiver against the cool air of the bedroom.

his fingers tugged the elastic of your suit just a little bit, exposing a paler line of skin that hadn't been touched by the sun. he stared down at it, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth.

you swallowed, your fingers tightening in the skin of his bare shoulders to keep your balance. "michael..."

"mhm?" he murmured, his gaze slowly climbing back up your body, lingering on your chest before finally meeting your eyes. his other hand reached up, his thumb slowly tracing your lower lip, parting it just enough to feel the warmth of your breath. "what is it, baby?"

god. you could never get used to him calling you that.

"should we head back?" you whispered, mentally kicking yourself the second the words left your mouth.

michael let out a quiet chuckle, his thigh parting your legs and resting between them. "what are we in a rush for? we got time."

he leaned down, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his lips were soft against your skin, pressing a line of kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. you let your head fall back against the door, a soft sigh escaping your lips. your hands slid down his smooth back, feeling the muscles of his shoulders tense under your touch as he let out a low groan against your neck.

"y’taste like the sun," he mumbled, his teeth gently grazing the soft skin right where your neck met your shoulder, making a shiver run down your spine. "so sweet.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his eyes heavy as his hand slid up from your hip, his palm flat against your ribs, feeling the quick beating of your heart.

“so pretty," he whispered, his voice raspy with that tone you'd grown so addicted to over the last few weeks.

he closed the tiny distance between you.

the kiss was so soft and so tender. his lips pressed against yours with a sweetness that felt like a confession, filled with all the heavy words he hadn't actually said out loud yet. there was no rush, no urgency — just the gentle drag of his mouth on yours, tasting you so slowly it made your chest ache. it was the kind of kiss that made you feel cherished, like you were the only thing in his entire world.

your heart swelled, a soft sigh slipping into his mouth as your fingers curled into his shoulders, completely melting into him.

his gaze flickered downward again, and you felt the burning heat of his stare focus on your chest. with the cool air conditioning blowing directly on you, your nipples were hard, poking visibly through the fabric.

michael swallowed, his breathing going shallow. you could see the desire in his eyes — he looked spellbound, like he was looking at something precious.

you felt a rush of confidence, a quiet thrill at seeing him so affected. you looked down at your chest, then back up to meet his gaze.

"you wanna see them?" you whispered.

the question seemed to catch in his throat. michael's breath hitched before a low sound escaped him. he nodded, his hand on your waist tightening.

"please," he breathed. "yes, please."

your hands left his shoulders, reaching behind your neck to undo the thin strings of your top. with a slow tug, the knot slipped free, and you let the fabric fall away to the floor, baring your breasts to him for the very first time.

michael bit his lip, his head tilting back slightly as if he couldn't even believe what he was looking at.

he didn't immediately touch you. he just stared, his eyes dark and blown out. the adoration on his face made your heart do backflips.

"gosh," he whispered, his voice trembling. "you're... you're a dream."

his hand, still wrapped around your waist, slid higher. his touch was tentative as his thumb lightly grazed the very bottom curve of your breast.

you reached down to cover his hand with your own. you guided his palm higher, lifting it until his hand was fully cupping your breast.

michael let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling to map the shape of you. his thumb brushed over your nipple, and a gasp left your lips at the direct contact. the heat of his skin against yours was electric.

your hands gripped his shoulders as his thumbs gently rolled and pinched your nipples, sending sharp jolts straight down to your core. you arched your back, pressing yourself deeper into his hands, unable to hold back the soft whimpers slipping past your lips.

michael groaned at the sound.

"can i...?" he whispered, and you nodded immediately, not even letting him finish his sentence.

his head dipped down, pressing kisses along your collarbone before his mouth finally found one of your aching breasts. he swiped his wet tongue over the nipple first, making you shiver, before he fully took you into his mouth.

he dragged his tongue over the peak, swirling it lazily before pulling your nipple between his teeth, grazing it just enough to make your hips twitch against his thigh. his hand stayed busy on your other breast, squeezing and teasing the nipple between his fingers in sync with his mouth.

your hands push his damp hair out of his face, looking at where your flesh was sucked into his mouth. your jaw slacked.

his pretty face was flushed, and his eyes had fluttered closed as he got lost in the feeling of your tits in his face and in his hands. his tongue worked eagerly, flicking over your nipple while his free hand tweaked at the other.

your skin was slicked and wet with saliva, raised into goosebumps from the cold air he would blow onto it after a lick. it was an intoxicating sight, one that you would keep in your conscious forever to use whenever you needed him most.

your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as your head rested back against the door. "michael... oh fuck, michael... please"

he pulled his mouth away, the suction releasing from your wet nipple with a soft pop. "what do y'need?"

you choked on your words, having to swallow as you tried to find what to say, “just… more.”

his lips tilted into a smile as he stood back up, looming over you. he looked down at you with his eyes full of desire, lips glossed with saliva, and his hair messed from your hands.

it was bound to drag a reaction out of you.

and a reaction it did.

your hips were now in line with his and you were met with the hard of his cock pressing right into where you need it the most.

through his swim trunks, and your bikini bottoms, you felt the twitch of him against your cunt. you gasped in response.

“tell me,” he said, looking into your eyes.

but he seemed to already know what you want. he ground himself into the soft of your cunt, pressing the length of his cock right against your clit.

“oh shit, michael,” your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself melt against the door, hips coming back down shakily as the pleasure overwhelmed your body, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

he was so hard. he was so fucking hard that you could feel every throb of him against you.

you tried to tell him, tried to make yourself clear, but it came out sounding pathetic; broken apart with gasps and moans, “‘want— oh fuck— i want you… want you inside me.”

michael brought his head low, leaning down until his lips were teasing yours, "that what you want?"

truthfully, michael didn't even know where this confidence of his was coming from. his chest was tight and his heart was hammering so hard he was sure you could hear it.

you whined, your hips twitching underneath him. "god, yeah— yes, please," you squirmed, your hands grabbing aimlessly at his back.

your body was tingling, wired from his touch. michael’s hands slid down to grab the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up against the door.

you didn't even have to think; you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. his swim trunks were rough against your bare thighs. michael held you tight, his fingers gripping your ass to support your weight as he carried you a few paces over to his bed.

he let you down onto the mattress, his touch gentle as your back met the cool sheets. he was already crawling over you as soon as he placed you down, his bare chest hovering inches from yours as he settled himself between your thighs.

his chest hovered inches over yours, and as he looked down at you, the intensity in his eyes softened.

michael bit his lower lip nervously, his thumb brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead. his hand was slightly trembling against your skin.

"are you sure?" he whispered, his voice soft. "i want this to be perfect f'you."

"yeah," you breathed, your voice steady despite the frantic pounding of your heart. you reached up, placing your hand over his cheek. "never been more sure. do... do you want to?"

michael let out a shaky breath, a small smile breaking through his anxious expression. he nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "more than anything. 'm just… a little nervous 'm gonna do somethin' wrong."

his tone made your chest ache with affection. you tried to bite back your smile, a bubbly laugh building up in your chest.

"'s okay," you teased, your voice shaking a little as you tried to hold in your giggle. "we're just practicing."

it really was just a lame joke, a reference to your stupid excuse, but michael laughed anyway, rolling his eyes. "oh, shush," he murmured, leaning down to press a quick peck to your lips.

he stayed there for a beat, staring into your eyes, both of you biting back giddy smiles as the weight of the nerves started to melt into something comfortable.

"one second," he murmured suddenly.

before you could even ask, he scrambled off the bed, his feet padding quickly across the floor as he slipped out the bedroom door, leaving it open just a crack.

the sudden absence of his heat left you feeling incredibly exposed. you sat up slightly, looking down at your bare breasts and your bikini bottoms, your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. the anticipation made your stomach do nervous flips until you finally heard the frantic thud of his feet running back across the floor, getting louder as he got closer.

michael burst back into the room, slightly out of breath, a small square foil packet clutched in his palm.

a hot flush instantly crept up your neck and into your cheeks at the sight. "where'd you get that?" you laughed.

michael climbed back onto the mattress, a sheepish, boyish grin spreading across his face as he ducked his head. "jackie's room," he confessed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "i knew he kept a stash in there somewhere."

"ew, michael!" you let out a groan, hiding your face in your hands.

he laughed at your reaction as he crawled right back over you. your hands came down from your face as you lay back against the pillows, matching his smile.

he gave you another small peck to the lips before kissing down your neck, nipping occasionally to feel your body twitch against his, licking through the valley of your breasts, biting at the soft skin of your stomach, teasing the line of your bikini bottoms with his tongue, and eventually pulling the waistband down your thighs and sliding them off your legs.

his hand wrapped around your ankles and dragged you slightly along the soft sheets until your legs dangled off the side. you gasped softly when you felt his breath wisp along the inside of it, watching him carefully as he brought his lips to the flat bone of the interior and kissed the skin softly.

your stomach turned.

the sensation felt foreign but kinda good. each press of his lips and bite of his teeth as he made his way up to your leg had your heart racing.

"you're so pretty," he said quietly, his eyes still locked on the pretty mound between your legs.

"keep your legs spread f'me, okay?"

and despite your embarrassment, you nodded.

with his hand resting against the back of your thigh, pushing your legs up, his thumb found its way to your clit and pressed softly. your body twitched, jerking against his hand while your legs trembled.

your hand clasped over your mouth. he teased softly, rubbing gentle circles against you, watching the way your pussy gave under the pressure of his thumb.

your hand was still over your mouth as you looked down to look at him. and fuck. he knelt before you so prettily, with his hair framing his face as his arms toyed with your body, and his hips slightly grinding against the side of the bed.

his other hand released your leg, and you obediently kept yourself open for him.

he adjusted his hand, his palm splaying over your navel to give his fingers room to drag across your slit.

and then he brought his face down and dragged his tongue through you.

you inhaled sharply at the sensation. his tongue was so hot and so wet as it dragged over your body and dipped inside you and licked over your cunt.

you let out the shakiest and most pathetic moan you believe has ever come out of your mouth as you felt him fuck his tongue inside you, and he groaned against your body as he felt your pussy squeeze around his tongue and leak onto his taste buds.

he’ll never get over the taste of you.

his hair tickled at your skin as he drank you down. his hand gripped your thigh with such frenzy that it gave under the pressure of his fingers.

his mouth closed over you and worked to devour you, sucking and licking at the fat of your pussy and the nub of your clit.

it was all tongue and lips, all sloppy and wet as he enthusiastically made out with the most intimate parts of you. 

he had you crying out his name, choking out choppy moans, gripping the sheets until your knuckles ached. your hips fucked upwards, trying to take his tongue deeper. your thighs pushed down into the muscle of his shoulders as your legs twitched with every lick.

"so wet" he murmured against your skin before taking another taste of you.

he pushed against the back of your knees, lifting your backside off the mattress and folding you under yourself to give him room to shove his tongue inside you as deep as he could.

"o-oh, god, michael—fuck—how are you so good at that?" you whined shakily.

you felt him groan, rather than hearing him, the vibrations humming through to your clit, tearing another moan from your throat.

michael almost came at the sound of your voice cutting off as you felt one of his long, nimble fingers sliding inside you.

he clenched his jaw to stifle a groan for every time your tight little cunt squeezed around the length of his finger. every ridge and divot inside you had his head swimming with the fantasy of how they’ll feel around the thick of his dick, and he almost blacked out when he realized that he was no longer fingering you solely for your pleasure, but also doing so to stretch you out and make room for him as well.

you sat back on your elbows, and a whimper slipped out of you when you were met with the sight of him between your legs, hypnotized by the sight of of your pussy being stretched open by his fingers, his fingers covered in a sheen of your arousal every time he pulled them out and shoved them back in.

the desperate whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips slowly turned into sobs that were broken off with gasps.

"fuck, michael— i-'m gonna— oh fuck." your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging into the sheets while the other flew to his hair. your body tensed, the coil in your stomach growing tighter, begging to be released.

"c'mon, sweet girl. lemme feel it," he begged, lifting his head from your pussy to watch your face twist as you fell apart inside out.

your fingers pushed against his head, pushing his head back down to your cunt. and michael took it, letting out a deep groan.

"o-oh, god, don't stop, please don't stop," you pleaded.

micheal felt your pussy flutter around his fingers "are you cummi— oh god, you're cumming," and then he brought his mouth back down, drinking in what you were giving him.

sobs were forced out of your throat as your fingers curled back into the sheets, sending powerful waves of pleasure up through your veins until it exploded in your head and fireworks burst behind your squeezed eyes.

michael watched you carefully, tongue still tasting you, admiring your face as you broke for him. your beautiful face, contorted with the pleasure that he gave you, and your beautiful body, visible proof of just how ruined you are.

you sat up weakly as you came down from your orgasm. he had a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you, his mouth and chin glossed with your arousal.

you reached for his swim trunks, fingers hooking onto the waistband as you pulled him closer to you. you slid back on his bed to his pillows as he hovered back over you.

"this okay?" you asked softly.

"y-yeah," he whispered. your hands tugged at the drawstring of his trunks, loosening them.

his thick cock sprang free, throbbing and fully upright, the head already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. you swallowed hard at the sight of him, your stomach doing a nervous little flip.

he reached over to the nightstand, his trembling fingers tearing open the foil packet he’d snatched from jackie’s room. he struggled with it for a second, his nerves making him clumsy, which made you let out a soft giggle.

"don't laugh," he mumbled, "'m already nervous enough." he finally rolled it over his length. but he was smiling too, his eyes soft as he looked back down at you.

with slightly shaky hands, he wrapped his fingers around his length, sighing as he pumped his dick a few times, getting used to the snug fit of the rubber.

he settled his weight between your legs, his knees forcing your thighs wide as he leaned down. "tell me to stop if it hurts, okay? please," he whispered, his eyes so serious as he waited, refusing to make another move until you gave him a small, reassuring nod.

"okay," you breathed.

he let out a shaky exhale.

slowly, he nudged his tip against your wetness, slowly gliding his dick up and down your slit. he stroked his length against your opening, coating the condom in your slick over and over until you were gasping from the stimulation of it.

he bit his lip in concentration as he lined the head of his cock directly up with your entrance and finally gave a push.

the moment he began to enter, your eyes squeezed shut and a sharp gasp caught in your throat. a deep, burning ache bloomed inside you from the intense stretch.

"you okay?" he murmured, his voice strained as he watched your expression closely, searching every twitch of your face.

you opened your eyes to look at him as you nodded, your chest heaving. he had his jaw clenched tight. your pussy was hugging him so tight that he had to concentrate literally anywhere else, trying desperately not to cum right then and there.

"you're... you're so tight," he choked out, his voice cracking as he felt your cunt clench around him at his words.

even though it was only the head of his dick pushing past your opening, it felt like you were being split in half.

trying to ease the ache for you, his thumb reached down to find your swollen clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive nub to distract you from the fullness. you let out a broken whine, your hips twitching under his hand as the pressure started to melt the sharp burn into pleasure.

sensing your body yield, he slid another inch deeper. your walls stretched to accommodate him, squeezing him so tightly it made him let out a low groan. he pulled back just a fraction, drawing out before pushing in another inch, slowly paving his way inside you and fuck, it felt so good.

you only come to realize that his hips were flush with yours when you were pulled out of your haze by a whimper that reached your ears as michael's head dropped into the crook of your neck.

"“you’re… you’re inside me…” you breathe, your voice saturated with awe.

"y-yeah— i am— oh god. i'm inside you." he sat back on his calves just enough to see where you two connected.

he acted involuntarily, slowly tilting his hips back and forth, watching his cock slip in and out of you.

"michael," you whined, face burning from him staring so shamelessly. "it feels... feel so full. oh—" you gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your hand reached shakily to feel where his dick split you open.

"s-shit, feel like you're in my lungs," you said, and he let out a huff of a laugh.

"does it still feel okay?" he asked gently.

"yeah, feels different... but feels good." you ground your hips against him, trying to get used to the feeling.

"s-should i move?" he tried so hard to come off casual, like he wasn't dying to just fuck up into you, but he wanted you to be comfortable.

michael let out a shaky breath when you nodded, and slowly, he began to move.

he started with shallow, tentative thrusts, his hips rolling as he worked himself against your gummy walls.

it felt incredibly sweet, almost like he was trying to memorize the feel of you as he took his time, sinking all the way in before slowly drawing back out to the very tip. he leaned down to press soft, lingering kisses to your jaw and the corner of your mouth, his hands tangling in yours on the mattress.

"wanna kiss you," you spoke quietly, reaching up to take hold of his face.

michael’s chest swelled as he gave in easily, leaning over your body, dropping to his forearms to softly take your lips in his in a tender kiss.

with every slow slide out and push back in, a messy, squelching sound echoed between your thighs. you let out a broken whimper, your hands clutching at his damp shoulders as your hips rose to meet him.

"m-michael," you gasped, your head rolling back against the pillows.

he really did try to go slow, but his breath went ragged at your voice, jerking once into you, his pace quickening. he began to push deeper, and with one particularly deep drive, his cock slammed right against that sensitive spongy spot inside of you.

your entire body stiffened. a sharp jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, and a loud cry was ripped from your throat. you arched off the mattress, your thighs clamping tight around his hips.

"oh god—right there—michael, please," you sobbed, your fingers digging bruisingly into his back.

michael let out a pathetic whimper at the sound of your voice. he didn't try to hold back anymore. he began to slam into you with a frantic rhythm, his hips grinding against yours messily.

he felt everything as the walls of your cunt throbbed around him, sucking him in and squeezing him base to tip like you were trying to milk him.

"god, you're— you're squeezin’ me so hard," he choked out, his voice cracking. his face was flushed a deep red, his hair sticking to his face where it framed it. "'m gonna— oh— 'm gonna cum, baby, i can't—"

"cum for me, please, baby," you breathed, your own climax coil tightening so fast you could barely breathe.

he hit that spongy spot again and again, his deep thrusts sending you over the edge. your walls clamped down on him in squeezing ripples.

"i-i love you," he gasped out, voice broken. "god, i love y'so much. 'm gonna marry you."

you fell apart at the desperate promise of his words, sobbing his name into the quiet room as the white-hot waves of your orgasm washed over you.

the crushing grip of your climax was the final straw for michael. he let out a loud, shattered groan, his eyes rolling back as his hips locked hard against yours. he buried his head in your neck, his body shaking as he spent himself inside the condom, his cock twitching and throbbing deeply inside you as he poured everything into you.

he remained buried deep inside you, his chest rising and falling against your breasts as his breathing slowly began to level out. the quiet of the bedroom returned, save for the hum of the air conditioner.

suddenly, the weight of what he'd said in the heat of the moment seemed to crash down on him.

michael buried his face even deeper into the crook of your neck, his shoulders tensing up.

he hid his face from you, hiding his flushed cheeks and panicked eyes against your skin. he was quiet, so quiet that you could feel the anxious, rapid thudding of his heart right against your ribs. he was terrified that he'd said too much, too fast, and desperately hoping that the loud haze of your orgasm had somehow drowned out him pouring his soul to you.

"michael?" you whispered, your voice still incredibly soft and raspy as you came down from the high.

he didn't look up, just let out a small, muffled sound against your shoulder.

you reached up, your hands gentle as your fingers slid into his damp curls, cradling his head. you slowly guided his face up, forcing him to look at you. when his eyes finally met yours, his pretty face was burning a deep red, and his lower lip was tucked between his teeth.

"'m... god, 'm so sorry," he stammered. "i shouldn't have... i didn't mean to just blurt out things like that, i know 's fast, i just—"

"michael," you interrupted softly, a tender smile pulling at your lips. you stroked your thumbs over his high cheekbones. "i love you too."

his entire body went slack, the panic in his shoulders melting away in an instant. he stared down at you, his eyes wide and shiny, searchingly looking over every inch of your face to see if you really meant it.

"you do?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, as if he couldn't quite believe the words had actually come out of your mouth.

you nodded, your smile widening as you watched the relief wash over his face. a massive, giddy smile broke across his lips — one he tried so hard to bite back but failed miserably, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink.

he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss that tasted like pure happiness. when he pulled back just an inch, his eyes were beaming.

"i know we basically did this all backwards," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing your jaw, his voice incredibly tender. "but... will y'let me be your boyfriend? please?"

you couldn't help but laugh softly at how sweet he was, your heart melting. "of course, michael. you can be my boyfriend."

"so we're boyfriend an' girlfriend now?" he asked, his voice full of wonder, like he'd just won the lottery.

you nodded enthusiastically, making him let out another of those beautiful, breathless giggles. he buried his face in your shoulder for a second, just shaking with pure joy, completely on cloud nine as he held you tight against him.

he let out a long, contented sigh. he carefully rolled off you, tying up and discarding the condom, then immediately coming back and pulling you right against his side so your head rested on his chest.

his fingers began to mindlessly stroke up and down your bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. he'd occasionally lean down to press soft pecks to the top of your head, your forehead, and your nose, completely doting on you like he couldn't get enough of you.

after a few minutes of just holding each other, the quiet hum of the bedroom was suddenly broken by a repeating clacking sound.

michael blinked, looking toward the window. it sounded like something was hitting the side of the house. he frowned, carefully rolling off the mattress and walking toward the glass to see what it was.

the bedroom window was slightly open, just enough to let the summer air drift inside.

michael pushed the window open a bit more, leaning out slightly as he looked down. standing right by the edge of the grass was jermaine, holding a handful of tiny rocks. he leaned back, raising an eyebrow with a knowing smirk the second he saw michael's head pop out.

"you two lovebirds done?" jermaine called up, his voice loud and clear.

michael froze, the color instantly draining from his face. "w-what?" he stammered.

marlon walked into view next to jermaine, snickering loudly as he pointed a thumb right up at the window. "mike, next time, maybe close your window."

a deep flush instantly painted itself across your and michael's face, his eyes going wide as saucers as he turned to you, exchanging a panicked look.

you two had some explaining to do.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

ngl any time i type bikini bottoms im just thinking of spongebob

anyways i think im wrapping the series here, however, im kinda (heavy on kinda) open to having lil drabbles in the future abt these two bc i have attachment issues and prob will not be able to let them go</3

thanks for reading ily

"Mr Jackson, what do you think of this?" you'd turn to him to ask whether you should change part of the lyrics to your song.

"Mr Jackson, do you think I should do the hip move or stay in place during this part?"

It was always "Mr Jackson this, Mr Jackson that." Or at least, it started out that way. He wanted you to call him Michael, and you got comfortable doing so pretty quickly. You liked the way it sounded on your lips and so did he.

"You see, y/n," he'd lean in during award ceremonies and whisper in your ear "you must nurture that passion of yours."

He shook his head in the direction of the performer on stage.

"Look at her," he said in a disappointed tone. "You can read it on her face that she's counting one, two, three... That's the wrong way to do it. You must feel it. You must feel the dance, not think about." He turned towards you: "You're not like her, though. You're a natural. Stay curious, work hard and be humble, like you have until now. It will take you far."

His compliments made you feel like you were on top of the world. You loved to hear him praise you. You lived for it. Sometimes you wondered whether you were trying so hard to realize your own ambition, to impress the audience or simply to hear him praise you:

"There's my beautiful girl. You really showed them what how it's done!"

"You were electrifying, angel! Really let the music take you over there, didn't you?"

He'd say the nicest things after you got off stage and in those moments, you swear, it was worth all the trouble just to hear showering you in praise.

Staying by his side was intoxicating. Not only were you learning, but you were having so much fun. He'd take you to fancy restaurants, get you expensive gifts, take you on trips under the guise that you were learning the ins and outs of the music industry. Truth was - he liked you. But he kept it to himself and always remained respectful. You had a boyfriend now, and besides, you were much younger than him and he was afraid that confessing his love for you would ruin your professional relationship and affect your career. Nevertheless, underneath all those complicated feelings, he knew one thing and one thing only. He wanted you.

And you could never come to terms with your own growing love for him. It had started out as a crush - simple and natural enough, seeing as you were around each other a lot, and he was utterly charming. What you didn't predict, however, was that the little crush would bloom into a mature, a more primal desire for him.

So when you accompanied him to a ceremony at which he was honoured with a lifetime achievement award for his musical accomplishments, he was getting closer to figuring out your real feelings for him. As his protégé, you were invited to introduce him and present the award. Taking advantage of the opportunity to thank him for his support, you had prepared a speech.

His eyes followed you like a hawk as you lifted the hem of your backless emerald green silk dress and made your way to the microphone. He shifted in his seat, the gold detailing on his sleek black suit reflecting off his black sunglasses. While you were waiting for the applause to die down, giving polite smiles, he was admiring you. He took pride in being your mentor, in helping you show the world your God-given talent. In you he saw himself in his younger years - your work ethic and hunger, not for fame or money, but for excellence. That was what drew him to you most. Your beauty and charm were just added gifts that made him want to keep you close.

"I am honoured to present this award to the man who needs no introduction. I just need to say his name," you gestured to him and the crowd began chanting: "Michael! Michael!" An applause burst through too, and Michael turned to wave a hand and give a smile to the fans. "Seems I don't even need to say it, you already know," you chuckled. Your voice was heard above the last of the claps resounding through the hall.

"Michael needs no introduction," you said and he looked up at you. He had heard countless people say his name, scream his name, but somehow it had never sounded as sweet as it did when it came from you. "I would like to take this opportunity to say a few words about him. I've had the great fortune for a while now to learn from him." you continued.

"As a mentor, he is the most generous, patient and inspiring person I could have wished for. I have been blessed to learn from the great King of Pop himself. They say you should never meet your heroes, but I've met mine, and I can assure you that isn't true. I suppose it all comes down to the person beneath the fame. As a human being, there is no kinder and gentler soul than you. If only they could look into your eyes and really get to know you, Michael, maybe then they wouldn't be so quick to judge. No one else has given more of themselves to the world than you have and it's high time the world acknowledged it. This is for you, Michael," you raised the award to him.

Michael's lips extended in a bashful smile. He was moved by your speech, he hadn't expected it to be so - personal. Though you had voiced your appreciation of him plenty of times before, hearing you say it tonight on stage, before an audience, made his heart swell. He was grateful he had his shades on, otherwise people might have noticed tears forming in his eyes. He made his way on stage and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

The excitement of the night got to your head. Sitting next to him, giving him the award, getting a kiss, being taken home in his car - you were the happiest you had been in a while. And you wanted to get rid of an urge, so you asked your boyfriend to come over. You were enjoying yourself. He was doing it right the way you had asked him to. You were facing away from him as he was doing his part. You were fairly quiet, lost in your thoughts, barely letting out a whimper or two, until you were getting closer and closer. You felt his large hands on you, touching you everywhere, his kisses on your back. Imagined his face, lips scrunched up as he was nearing his own release, his breathy whimpers. Suddenly, you screamed out:

"Michael, oh, Mi-".

Your eyes widened in horror. You realized what you had done and bit your lower lip in shame. Your boyfriend stopped moving.

The next day you had a meeting with your team. The usual run of the mill meeting updating you on sales and upcoming schedules. You never seemed uninterested in them or unfocused, as your career was one of, if not the most important thing in your life. Nothing could be decided or planned without your approval. Today, however, you were completely out of it. So much so that your assistant kept shooting daggers at you for being so unresponsive. Not that it worked. The meeting ended without much being accomplished. Aware that your mood was not going to improve, your assistant shooed everyone out of office and closed the door behind her. You let out a sigh which you had been holding in for the past hour.

You didn't know how you felt. You weren't exactly heartbroken, nor were you happy that your relationship ended. The two of you had been together for almost a year and he was perfect: tall, gentle, caring... great in bed. You were even suspecting he might propose to you soon enough, which complicated matters, because you weren't really sure what your answer was going to be and you didn't want to let him down. "You don't love me anymore," he had said and you had denied it. A small voice inside you was telling you that he was right and you had already known it... for a while. You shook your head in disbelief at the situation you found yourself in. "Horrible, I am a horrible person", you thought to yourself, slamming a fist on the table. The next thought, however, was of the only person who could make you feel better.

Michael.

As soon as you realized you had thought of him, you felt heat spreading through your body and shook your head violently, as if the shaking could get rid of him.

Shutting yourself in your apartment, you made yourself a recluse. Two weeks had passed since your breakup and you were taking no calls or visitors. That was the punishment you had set to yourself for behaving so abominably, for having filthy thoughts. The invitation which had arrived for an award show, at which you were nominated and were certain to win for best summer song, you threw in the trash. Michael had called, but you ignored his calls. You felt growing distant from him, but you couldn't bear to face him with your desire for him still burning inside you.

At the start of the third week of your seclusion, Michael rang your doorbell. "Come on, doll", he urged you off the couch. "I'm taking you to dinner."

"I'm sorry, Michael. I don't feel like going anywhere, please."

"I'm not taking no for an answer, darling. You've been ignoring my calls, you've been living like a hermit for the past two weeks, and you didn't even appear at the event to collect your award," he said not reprovingly, but with a gentle voice. He sat down next to you, placing his large hand over yours, brushing it with his thumb. "What's got my favourite girl down, huh?"

The floral scent of his perfume emanated from him. You raised a pleading look at his eyes. He could sense your body tense with a truth that he was not sure he was ready to hear. You stayed quiet.

"Get ready, let's go," he patted your thigh. "You'll tell me over dinner. We haven't celebrated your win."

You shifted in your satin slip dress that emphasized your figure. Wiping your lips with the napkin, you thanked Michael for the meal.

"Well?"

Michael initiated the topic which had been looming over your heads all throughout dinner, bracing himself to hear what had you quiet and ignoring him for so long.

Your eyes wandered around the room in an effort to gather the courage to look him in the eye. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses at dinner. The penetrating gaze of his dark eyes made it seem like he was reading your soul.

"I am no longer in a relationship," you uttered.

He tried to suppress his satisfaction at hearing you say those words. It's not like he wanted to see you unhappy, but he would rather see you by his side. Not that he would ever purposefully do something about it, right? Other than throwing side remarks that your boyfriend fails to appreciate you and outdoing him each time with lavish gifts and gestures.

"Is that so?", he inquired with a placid expression.

"Yes."

Michael took your short answer as a cue to reassure you.

"It was about time you put an end to it, angel. You weren't exactly happy with him, were you?" he said confidently.

A little surprised at his boldness, you replied:

"I didn't break up with him. He did."

Michael's lips parted in surprise. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He broke up with you? Then he must be crazy, sweetheart. And you're sad over a guy like that? He doesn't deserve your tears or you anyway. And besides-"

"It's not that simple, Michael," you interrupted him.

"Then please explain it to me. I'd really like to know what would make someone leave a girl like you," he was getting defensive over you.

"It's all my fault," you blurted out "all of it."

"I'm sure it's not, baby. Come on, you can tell me. I'd really like to hear his genius reasoning."

You felt a sudden flush of warmth in your cheeks.

"I really couldn't, Michael," you replied sheepishly.

Michael was intrigued by your reaction. He was definitely curious, but he wasn't going to make you tell him. However, he could see your inner conflict play out on your face. Your expressions always gave you away - you wanted to tell him.

"Okay, Michael. I- um, I..." you began, but quickly covered your face with your hands. "Oh, dear, this is so embarrassing," you blurted out, lowering your hands to smooth the fabric of your dress. "Promise me you won't laugh when I tell you."

He nodded reassuringly.

"I called him by the wrong name," you breathed out in one go.

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"And that's a reason for him to break up with you? People get names wrong all the time. Nothing to worry about," he waved a dismissive hand, ignoring any thoughts that your confession might have stirred in him.

"Yes, but- this, uh, this happened during..."

Michael's gaze was laser focus on you now. He was waiting in expectation for you to finish your sentence. He felt his pants tightening around him.

"...during an intimate moment."

Michael let out a satisfied chuckle.

"Don't laugh, Michael. You promised you wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, doll," he replied with an amused grin on his face.

You became frustrated.

"It's not funny, Michael. He was probably going to propose soon enough and I ruined everything."

That wiped the smirk off his face. Now it was his turn to feel frustrated.

"And, may I ask what you would have answered him if he had?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" his gaze bored into you.

"Why are you doing this to me, Michael?"

"What is it that I am doing, y/n?" he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice. You weren't the only one who had been hiding your emotions.

"You're ruining my relationships. That's what you're doing. Not that you're actually doing something, it's just you're always on my mind. I try to like a guy and stay in a relationship but I can't. It's not that they're bad, but they're not you. They can never be you. It's like I subconsciously sabotage every chance at a relationship, because I don't want to be with anybody else."

Words were flowing out of your mouth, even you were surprised at your directness and Michael was taken aback by your honesty.

"Oh, my angel. If you only knew...," Michael softened and reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek. "I want you too. I just don't want to ruin things, you know. You're so young and you've got a bright future ahead of you..." He was fighting his own desires, while trying to protect you. "There is nothing more than I'd like in this world, but-"

You stopped him by planting a kiss on his lips, startling him. That was his sign of approval from you. He was completely convinced you reciprocated his feelings and all of his worries simply vanished in that moment. The satisfaction on his face returned.

"Oh, you like playing dirty," he grinned. "I can play dirty too."

The conversation was taking a dangerous turn. It was no longer one to be had in a restaurant.

"We need somewhere quiet, baby", he stood up and led you out.

You could see his jet-black hair and the way his shoulders swayed with each confident step. You had admired him for so long when he would walk in front of you, but this time he was leading you home with him. And you were going to touch and feel him, like you had always wanted.

"Now tell me, gorgeous," he turned to you as you reached his car. "Whose name slipped out? he asked, unable to suppress a teasing smile.

"Michael-", you playfully hit his shoulder.

He raised his eyebrows giving you a knowing look. He knew. You knew he knew. Yet he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted you to admit you called out his name while you were making love to another man. He wanted you to admit that it had always been him.

"Yours. Who else's? you flashed a bashful smile at him."

Still looking at you intently, he kissed your hand.

"That's my girl! Come on, let me take you home. At least you're safe with me. We both know you won't be screaming the wrong name tonight."