fai ౨ৎ˚⟡˖

summary: during michael’s invincible album release, he does a meet and greet with his fans. not only does he meet the cutest little boy, but his mother might also be a sweet lil thing too..

sorry guys been xtra busy recently. more stories and the requests coming next week, also thank u for all the requests i’ve seen them and will be writing𑣲⋆

read part 2 here

“are you okay, baby” you said quietly, crouching slightly to whisper in the boys ear.

“i’m okay mama, it’s just very loud” zain whispered back, his head slightly bowed, the fedora tipping slightly.

you grabbed his tiny hand tighter, squeezing it to reassure him that you were there protecting him and nobody would hurt him.

you and zain were stood around 6 people away from michael, his cd signing allowing 500 lucky fans to get into the store.

when you had heard of the chance to meet michael, you did absolutely everything in your power to do so, for your little boy.

zain had loved michael from the moment he had first heard him on the tv when he was 1 years old. he had heard black or white, standing infront of the tv watching the music video whilst shaking his little shoulders, asking you to replay it multiple times before it became practically engrained into the walls.

it was then you went down a rabbit hole with him, playing every michael jackson song that was available to play at his request, his favourites accumulating to don’t stop till you get enough and remember the time.

he had even stood in the living room trying to copy the dangerous dance breakdown, eventually almost mastering it to the best of his toddler abilities.

he had become one of michael’s biggest fans, and he was only three and a half years old.

now you both were stood in the music shop, blessed to receive access after you had bought the invincible cd the day before, your son had been wrapped up in your arms as he bounced up and down, so excited to get his hands on the music.

the line finally began to shorten after what felt like years of being stood in the same spot, the sequins on zain’s white glove digging into the skin of your palms. his tiny suit ruffled every time his legs moved, restless from standing still for so long.

the table became easier to see as you got closer, michael sat there whilst his hands signed the cd alongside listening attentively to what the fan infront of him was saying, nodding politely.

you picked zain up, placing him onto your hip so you could talk to him closer.

“okay we are nearly there now, don’t worry baby. can you see him right there” before pointing towards michael.

“oh my gosh mama! he’s right there!” he squealed slightly, his hands grabbing your shoulders and wrapping around the back of your neck to hug you.

you giggled at his excitement, so happy to see your son laughing and getting tense with energy.

the joy ran like honey through your veins, it had been a difficult few months. struggling with money in order to put food on the table for your son and you and paying for clothes and bills. but you had finally gathered your footing, starting a new job that payed exceptionally, now able to fund zain’s michael jackson obsession.

the large, burly security guard stood next to the large sign beside the table, gently guiding you and your son forward and putting space between you and the person behind you, probably wanting to protect the little boy that shuffled his feet in anticipation along the carpeted floor.

michael’s eyes scanned the room, moving down the line towards the people he was about to meet. his dark brown eyes glinting and glittering under the bright lights before locking onto someone, the little boy dressed up as him. he laughed out loud, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he stared in shock.

michael tried to focus on what the man standing in front of him was saying, his hands signing the cd with the all too familiar signature, but his mind and eyes kept wandering back to the little boy.

you moved forward, going up the steps of the platform to the table, guiding your son towards the table. your heartbeat began to race, an unexpected nervousness overcoming you at the sight of the handsome king of pop.

the cloth covered table covered the majority of zain’s body, only his bright eyes and fedora peeking over at him, his hands gripping the table so tight his knuckles nearly turned white.

“come on, honey, he can’t see your outfit” you said, laughing quietly at his pose.

your hands went under zain’s arms, placing him onto the table infront of you, hands resting gently on his lower back to steady him and make him feel safe. a symphony of ‘awh’ echoed behind you, the cuteness of the moment forcing everyone to look.

michael laughed loudly, his head tipping back before his head came forward, looking over zain’s outfit in awe.

“you look like me!” michael exclaimed, his voice going a tiny bit higher, his finger grazing zain’s tiny knuckles.

“well… i-i… mamaaa” zain stuttered, turning around suddenly and burying his face into your neck.

he had become all of a sudden to nervous to even look michael in the eye, one of his favourite people ever was stood infront of him but all the attention was too much.

“it’s okay, baby. look, show him your dance moves, you said to me before that you wanted to show him something didn’t you?”

your comforting hand running over the length of his back, trying to coerce him to turn around to look at michael, who was staring at him in awe and you with a certain look in his eye that you couldn’t quite name.

zain turned, his back pressing against your chest as he leant against you. he looked at michael, a tiny hand coming out for him to shake.

“hi, i’m zain” he whispered, the other hand coming up near his mouth.

“hi zain, it’s lovely to meet you! you look amazing, your mama said you wanted to show me something?” he leant closer, his other hand coming up to bend the small fedora back to uncover his face.

zain shuffled forward a little bit, before getting into position. he span in a circle, the cloth bunching under his feet, before he brought one hand to his lower stomach and one hand to his hat, his leg propping out. zain ended his quick performance with his hand grasping the little fedora and tilting it down to block his face, and then coming up to a point.

michael clapped, getting to his feet to give him a proper standing ovation. he wrapped the boy up in his arms, giving him a hug and a kiss on the top of his head, a huge smile painted across his face.

“wow, that was amazing! you could take my place one day.”

looking at the interaction between michael and zain, any random person would think it was between a father and son the way he cared so much. he held his hands in his, nodding along and consistently complimenting zain, whether it was on his dance moves, his outfit or his cute curly hair.

“and mama must be very proud of you, huh? at having a son with such god given talent” michael said suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his.

“oh he’s amazing, he’s loved you since he’s been able to move around, always dancing in the living room to your songs, aren’t you?” you tickled zain’s sides lightly, causing a high pitched giggle to fall from his mouth.

“is that so, zain? well you have made my day with your little dance moves and your cute little smile” michael said, “guess we know who he got that from”

his eyes locked onto your face, more specifically your shiny lips, before running up and down your body, taking in your full appearance.

you shyly dipped your head, a small, nervous tilt of your lips making you look even more prettier to michael. the black zip of your bag brushed against your hands as you opened it, reaching into grab the cd and place it on the table.

“zain was so excited to come here, dressing up as you was his idea actually. but it was a surprise cause he usually doesn't like wearing this stuff” you looked at zain, his hands locking infront of him as he swayed from side to side.

michael’s hands took the cd off of the table, before taking the cap off the pen and bringing his head down, writing a little message to zain with absolute concentration before signing off with his iconic signature.

you turned your head to zain, tilting his hat back and pulling his jacket down as it had ridden up to his waist in all of the chaos. you asked how he was, wondering if this was becoming too much for him before he smiled at you, confirming that he was as happy as can be.

“here you go, little man”

he placed the cd in zain’s hands, his large eyes scanning over the writing before turning it towards you.

“mama, what does it say?”

you and michael burst into laughter, zain’s head tilted as he looked at you with confusion.

“we will read it later baby, come on”

the security guard motioned to michael that it was time for you to move on, the moment stopping all too soon for his liking, but he understood the need to keep on time.

“well it was lovely to meet you zain, and you too mama, you have raised him beautifully” he whispered towards you, his hand taking yours in a handshake before bringing it to his lips.

you felt your body get hot, eyes widening in shock, a slight sweat building up on your brow bone as you grew increasingly flustered.

turning towards zain, a nervous laughter bubbling in your chest as you moved to pick him up off of the table.

“say bye, zain” you whispered in his ear.

zain shot forward, wrapping his arms around michael’s neck in a hug, his face buried into the crook of his shoulder.

michael’s large hands moved to his back, one supporting his back, the other engulfing the back of his curly hair. his eyes shut as a warm smile grew on his face at the young child’s sweetness.

“bye zain, thank you for coming today”

zain moved backwards towards you, his legs wrapping around your waist and head resting against your chest, your hands moving to grip his back slacks to hold him up.

he waved a small goodbye, his eyes filling with tears at the departure.

“bye mikey!”

you smiled at michael, before walking down the steps, around the back of the set up to leave the store.

zain stifled a small cry, his lip trembling and a few tears slipping down his chubby cheeks.

“mama, i miss him already” he muttered into your shirt, your hand resting on his head.

michael’s doe eyes followed you out, before turning slightly to his head of security and whispering something into his ear before getting a nod in return.

the man gripped the walkie-talkie on his waist and brought it up to his lips before saying something inaudible into it.

as you walked closer to the door, whispering comfort into zain’s ears as he sobbed gently into your neck, a man dressed in black stopped you, the words ‘SECURITY’ painted across his chest.

“are you zain’s mother, the little boy michael just met?” the man said, sounding very serious, a pit forming in your stomach.

“oh um.. yes i am, is there a problem?” your voice twinged with confusion, wondering if you had done anything wrong.

he glanced around to see if anyone was nearby before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a folded note and placing into your slightly closed hand that rested on zain’s hip.

“have a good day, ma’am” ,turning and walking back to the cd signing.

staring in confusion at the man’s back as he walked away, you glanced back at your son, a deflated look painted across his face.

“let’s go and get something to eat, and we can read what michael put on the cd, yeah?”

you walked into the cozy restaurant, being led to a booth in the corner, placing him along with your bags into the corner and sitting down yourself.

you read zain the menu, allowing him to pick what he wanted before reading it off to the waiter along with your own order.

the day had clearly began to wear on zain, his eyes beginning to droop and gradually becoming more clingy and wanting your affection.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, guiding him to lean against you as you held the cd in your hands.

“should we read this together then, baby?”

zain nodded his head, his legs swinging over your thighs and getting more comfy so you can read the message to him.

“okay, it says: dear zain, thank you for showing me your dance moves, i was very impressed at how good you are - especially that spin, that was amazing. i might have some competition!

keep dancing, keep smiling and i hope you enjoy this album, maybe you can make some new moves for me? love, michael jackson”

zain’s smile widened, his pearly teeth showing, “mama, he said that i was amazing?”

“he did, baby! you must have blown him away with your coolness!” you giggled, ruffling his curls as his eyes squinted due to his grin.

you turned the cd in your hands to look at the full thing, before flipping it onto the back, black marker standing out against the blue background.

your eyebrows furrowed at it, wondering how you had missed him writing on the back.

‘mama, there is something very special about your son, the way he allows the music to take over his body is amazing, it reminds me of when i was a child. he has a beautiful spirit and i hope he keeps that for the rest of his life. you have done an amazing job at raising him.

take care of yourself, michael’

you read it in your head, a warmth in your chest growing. someone else had noticed the spark in your boy, the ever growing spark growing brighter in his eyes as he grew older, something different from the other children in his class.

remembering the note that had been placed into your hand and then stuffed into your bag as you focused on finding somewhere to eat in the big city, slipping into the black purse and pulling out the note.

‘please call me, i would love to meet you and your wonderful son again. - michael’

the number underneath was written in big bold letters, a contrast to the cursive writing on the cd, obviously written by the security guard.

smiling at not only the note on both the cd and the paper, but also at your sons excitement, the plates clinked against the table.

grabbing the knife and fork and cutting your sons food into smaller pieces, passing the fork to him to eat.

“i’m glad you had fun today, baby. i love you”

michael had struggled with sleep for as long as he could remember.

ever since he was a child, he’d been plagued by irregular patterns, the byproduct of intense rehearsals and the grueling schedule of the jackson 5. even at five years old, michael had been forced to work deep into the night, sacrificing the quiet, restorative hours a child needed to grow, turning his body into an instrument that never truly shut down. in interviews and press junkets, he’d always been the one to emphasize the importance of sleep to his younger fans, preaching about health and the creative fuel of a well-rested mind, but the irony was a bitter pill. it never reflected his own life. peace was a language he struggled to speak, true, calm rest remained perpetually out of reach.

when he did manage to drift off, it was usually in the gray, hollow hours of the early morning. the crushing weight of stress, the relentless hum of media pressure, and the suffocating grip of his own perfectionism meant his mind was a wildfire that didn’t know how to die down. he would lose himself in the music for hours, chasing a sound only he could hear, leading to a cycle of overworking that left him shivering with exhaustion. he’d often say, with that soft, humble tremor in his voice, that he couldn't sleep because he was afraid god would give his ideas to someone else if he wasn't awake to catch them, that someone else would take the inspiration and turn it into something greater.

but now, as he slowly pushed open the door to your shared bedroom, he finally started to believe the long, agonizing days were worth the toil. having you in his life, waiting for him, changed the gravity of his world. at the end of every exhausting night, there was a finish line, and that finish line was you.

he stepped into the room, his hair still damp from the shower, dark curls clinging to his neck. he was bone-deep exhausted, his steps heavy and dragging, as if he were fighting through thick water. his brain felt like it was flickering, on the verge of a total, desperate shutdown. the only reason he’d come home at such an “early” hour was because quincy had effectively cornered him, watching with growing concern as michael started nodding off right in the middle of a recording session, his head dipping toward the microphone.

he saw the way your form settled under the covers, your cheek pressed soft against the pillow, the blanket pulled up just enough to frame your face. michael felt his shoulders drop, the tension of the day finally beginning to seep out of his bones. he moved with practiced, reverent care, sitting on the edge of the mattress and tucking the edge of the blanket neatly under your chin so he could get a better look at you. he brought his knuckles up, tracing the curve of your cheek with a feather-light touch, his thumb lingering over the bridge of your nose. your hair created a messy, dark halo against the pillows, and your lips were parted, emitting slow, steady puffs of air that fanned warm against his skin.

he loved watching you like this. completely unburdened. in sleep, your face was free from the stress and doubt that the world tried to pile onto everyone. you were effortlessly beautiful, a sight that made the frantic pace of his own life feel like a distant, chaotic memory. these were the nights he lived for, the ones where he could come home to find you already bathed in the scent of home. he wanted nothing more than to shed his clothes, curl into the space you provided, and listen to the rhythmic, grounding cadence of your heartbeat while he buried his face in the curls of your hair.

“baby,” michael whispered, his voice a gravelly, exhausted hum. his thumb brushed gently over your eyebrow, a silent invitation for you to return to him.

you were a light sleeper, and the shift in the mattress weight stirred you instantly. your eyes cracked open, squinting against the dim light as you fought the fog of sleep, blinking until your vision finally locked onto his silhouette.

“mike?” you questioned, your voice thick and hoarse with sleep, struggling to bridge the gap between dream and reality. “what are you doing up so late?”

michael smiled down at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling with the kind of genuine warmth that only ever surfaced when he was with you. “quincy decided i should go home for the day. after a couple of sessions, i just started to doze off. he could tell i was running on empty.”

your lips turned into a soft, concerned frown, your eyebrows creasing as you reached up, your hand cupping his wrist. you could feel the erratic, tired pulse beneath his skin. “you must be exhausted.”

michael let out a huff of air through his nose, his eyelids fluttering as he fought his own fatigue, humming in agreement. “yeah, i was. i was thinking about you the whole time, though. missed you a lot.”

you let out a sleepy, contented hum, your lashes heavy as your eyes drifted shut again. your thumb traced lazy, rhythmic circles over the center of his palm, trying to soothe him even in your half-conscious state. “missed you too.”

“quincy wanted to talk to me about one of my songs. we named it starlight at first, but…” he trailed off, his touch lingering, absentmindedly stroking your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “i think thriller has a better ring to it.”

“i like that a lot,” you muttered.

“i already have an idea about what i want the album to be named as well. and i really want to make a music video to match the theme. i’m thinking about getting a hold of john landis to help direct.”

you forced your eyes open, “he did schlock, right?”

michael chuckled, the sound low and musical in the dim light as he nodded. “he did. he’s got the vision.” he leaned in closer, his movements slow and deliberate, before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “you’re so smart.”

he didn’t pull away immediately, instead, he lingered, planting a gentle, worshipful kiss at the corner of your mouth, then brushing his lips against your cheek. “so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice catching slightly, raw with the adoration he felt in his chest. he looked at you as if you were the only light in the world, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the sheer comfort of being near you.

“y’tired baby?” michael questioned, his voice a soft, melodic murmur that seemed to vibrate against your skin. your eyelids felt like lead, a pleasant, heavy weight pulling you further under. you offered a small, drowsy nod, too languid to find the words. he sensed your drift, his expression softening into one of absolute devotion as he leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss right to the tip of your nose.

“my sleeping beauty,” he whispered.

michael loved you like this, warm, drowsy, and radiating a sweet, unguarded affection. he continued pressing a constellation of soft kisses across your forehead and down the curve of your cheek and jaw, before leaning back to nuzzle his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut.

“m’ so tired,” he sighed, the words heavy with the weight of the day.

“come to bed.” you whispered, shifting back to peel the covers open for him. michael didn't waste a second, he moved into the empty space, the mattress dipping under his weight as he carefully lifted the blanket, waiting until he was settled and secure before letting it drape over you both. once he was comfortable, he reached out, his fingers brushing your curls away from your face, his eyes twinkling with a soft, quiet wonder as he admired you.

michael then pulled you in, his arms wrapping around your shoulders to draw you flush against his frame. your arms instinctively snaked around his back, and he let out a long, shuddering sigh of pure relief. he lived for this, the closeness, the softness of you against him, the way he could finally hear the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. your skin was a balm, your scent a sanctuary that quieted the static in his brain. he moved to press lingering kisses into your hair, scooting closer until your legs were tangled together, grounding him in the warmth of your shared space.

“m’ sorry i couldn’t come home earlier,” he whispered into your hair.

you knew that ache in his voice well. he carried a deep, ingrained guilt about his lifestyle, the endless, bone-weary hours in the studio, the rehearsals that demanded everything from his body and mind. you knew it took a toll on the two of you, the missed dinners and the late-night departures, but you had long ago realized that the measure of his love wasn't in the number of hours on a clock. it was in the way he always made the effort, no matter how exhausted he was, no matter the circumstances. that was enough.

“it’s okay.” you hummed, your hand tracing soothing, circular patterns against the small of his back. you tilted your head back, looking up at him with a lazy, affectionate smile, and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his jawline.

“i promise i’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, his voice now soft, thick, and slurred with the onset of sleep.

“you already do, mike.”

as your own eyes began to flutter shut, you could feel his frame finally yielding to the fatigue, his body becoming heavy and boneless against you. his breathing leveled out into the slow, cadence of deep rest. you smiled in the darkness, letting his warmth pull you down into the quiet drift of sleep.

𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

SUMMARY— jealousy gets the best of you when your bestfriend’s brother / longtime crush brings another woman around. the next few weeks are utter turmoil.

loosely based on ‘lacy’ by olivia rodrigo

WC— 2.7k

CONTENT/WARNINGS— nondescript fm reader, angst w/ a happy-ish ending, brooke shields lowkey tryna take our man, some cursing, reader is stubborn and a lil insecure. not yet proofread.

and sure, he is probably holding onto your waist a little too tight while you engage in a conversation with some famous actor you like. and maybe he is shooting him death-daggers behind his aviators--but, he's not jealous.

michael was supposed to be rubbing elbows with his fellow industry-mates, but once this schmuck wandered over to you, he suddenly had nowhere to be.

michael isn't territorial, though. territory is such a crazy word itself and michael would never think of you like that. never. you’re his precious little p.y.t., the whole reason he wrote the song, obviously.

still he cannot shake the feeling that the man wants you, as if you aren’t already michael jackson’s girl. official, at that.

and michael knows he shouldn’t care. he knows attention comes with the territory of being seen in public with him. people stare. people hover. people flirt because they think it’s harmless or funny or impossible.

but he's human before he's michael jackson.

so he just stays close to you for the rest of the night, closer than he usually does. his hand retires its hold from your waist and finds your lower back instead. every photo taken, he stands to where everyone knows your his.

by the time you get home, after all the glamorous clothes are off and the makeup is wiped, he holds you from behind in the bathroom.

"did you have fun tonight?" translation: did you forget about me?

you turn in his grasp and kiss his lips, "i had fun 'cause you were there."

that was really reassuring.

"i'm sorry if i was too close, i just hate sharing you, girl," he mumbles it into your cheek.

Synopsis: ᥫ᭡.

Paul McCartney had been your boyfriend for some time now, but things weren't always smooth between the two of you. Late night fights, boring dates, and unloyalty on his end. Michael your childhood best friend, starts comforting you through these troubled times, maybe a little too well.

(Orginal work was 11k words so I'm spitting this into parts, go read part 1 if you haven't <3333)

warnings; slow burn, slightly manipulative idk, cheating if you squint, arguments, suggestiveness

Paul didn’t say anything else after that. He just held Michael’s gaze for a moment longer, making sure the point had landed. Finally he turned and walked out the studio. The door shut somewhat loud behind him.

Michael stood there for a second, jaw still tight, staring at the space Paul had just left. He couldn’t believe what had just been said. He exhaled sharply through his nose and turned away, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his mouth. Who did Paul think he was talking to him like that? Telling him what to do, like he could just erase years of friendship because he felt insecure about it.

He didn’t waste any more time thinking about it.

Michael walked over to the phone near the side of the studio and sat down, already dialing the number without hesitation. Quincy, who had been sitting at the console nearby, glanced over at him briefly but didn’t say anything, just kept adjusting knobs and watching levels, he’d seen enough to know better than to get involved.

Michael waited for the line to connect, leaning back slightly in the chair, still annoyed, still heated, but quieter. He had something on his mind. He wasn’t about to sit with Paul’s words in his head any longer than he had to.

Meanwhile back at your home, you were unaware of what just happened.

Paul barely spoke to you that whole day, you guess he was still mad at you which was ridiculous. If anything, you're the one who should be mad, not him. You rested easy in your chair on the back patio, studying lines for a new movie you're starring in. Some movie taking place in New York, in all honesty, it just looked like a remake of Superfly, just with a longer backstory. Your hair lightly flowed from the wind as it passed by. You pulled your floral kimono over you, shifting in your spot. As you read through the lines, the phone rings. Your eyes flicked toward it, the ringing filling the air again and again like it wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

You set the pages down and picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Apple head," Michael smiled on the other line. You smiled to yourself, you always did when Michael called or talked to you. You picked up a purple grape from your bowl on the table before answering.

"Hey Michael, how are you?" You asked him sweetly still looking through your lines. You flipped to another page as you listened on the phone to him.

"M'alright angel, just at the studio with Quincy," he says tilting his head, glancing to Quincy. "How's your day been? Keeping busy?"

"A little, just looking over a movie script, eating some snacks," Michael loved the way you sounded on the phone, so cute and relaxed.

He did some more small talk with you before slipping in what just happened, "Has Paul talked to you today?"

"Not since this morning, and barely that," you say disappointingly. "I figured he had something important to do today," you say trying to shrug it off, but deep down it hurt, and Michael could tell. He hated that for you, he would never do that to you. "Why do you ask?"

"Just asking, and that sounds like a bull face lie by the way, that's no reason to talk to you," he says softly on the phone. "I wouldn't do that"

"Yeah I know, but it's alright, he's a busy man," you told him. Michael let out a playful hum at that.

“Yeah, real busy,” Michael rolled his eyes slightly, still thinking about it as he glanced toward the clock. “He actually came to see me down at the studio not too long ago.”

You sat up a little in your chair immediately, putting your lines down without thinking. “He did?” you asked, your voice lifting slightly. “What was spoken?” Your fingers tightened around the edge of the script for a second as you waited for his answer, already trying to piece together why Paul would’ve gone all the way down there. You tried to keep your tone light, like it wasn’t a big deal, but there was a small knot forming in your stomach anyway.

“He seemed pretty upset with me,” Michael said quietly on the other end of the line. “Came in insisting that we were doing something.”

“Doing what?” you asked.

“You know… stuff friends shouldn’t be doing,” he said after a beat. “He told me not to speak with you anymore. To leave you alone.”

There was a pause right after that, like even Michael didn’t like how it sounded out loud. Then he gave a small laugh, trying to shake it off. “I told him he’s got the wrong idea about us. I mean, that’s crazy. I’ve known you most of my life, and he’s just… not asking, but telling me to stay away from you.”

Your eyes widened at that, the script now completely forgotten in your lap. “He said what!?” you asked, pissed.

"And you know, I didn't wanna bother you about it. But I can't help but feel some type of way about it. I find it unsettling, it's like he's built up this resentment towards me," Michael said adding on. He knew just what words to use. In reality, Michael didn't care for Paul and didn't care for what he said either. What he did care about was you, and giving you what you deserved, which was a better man.

Your hand ran across your face in embarrassment and anger, how could Paul say this. After everything seriously. When you asked Paul to talk to Michael you emphasized the word talk. Not, go threaten your friend and tell him to stay away from you.

"God Michael, I am so sorry," you say shaking your head. "He's been acting like this for a couple of weeks now it's ridiculous," you blurted into the phone. "I-I told him to talk to you because, I don't know. I asked him what his problem was with you and he said he didn't like you kissing me or looking at me and i'm like? I've known Michael longer than i've been with you," you scoffed lightly.

"It sounds harsh but it's the truth," your voice came out faster now, more frustrated as you kept going.

Michael smiled at that, he liked hearing you defend him like that. "Right, we've been friends for years, we've always done stuff like that. You've been there for me and i've been there for you, which is why I found it odd on how he acted today," his finger traced lightly around the phone cord as he spoke, more relaxed now just hearing you.

You sighed lightly into the phone, "I'll talk to him Michael, i'm so sorry"

"It's not your fault y/n, you don't need to be upset," Michael assured you. "I'd be protective over you too," he says smiling lightly. "You're a beautiful woman, and an talented actress, you've got every man in the palm of your hand".

You lightly smiled to yourself, there he goes, trying to make you feel better.

"Oh please," you joked to him. "If anything, you've got every girl in the palm of your hand," you say chuckling. "I be seeing you"

Not every girl, he thought to himself. He chuckled shifting in his seat before responding, "Yeah yeah," he says. "On a better note, i've been recording a few demos for some songs."

"Oh really?" you asked Michael. "When I get some free time i'd love to hear them, i'm getting a little busy this week," you tell him getting up from your chair. The phone stayed tucked between your shoulder and ear as you gathered your things. You picked up your movie lines and slid them under your arm along with your small bowl of fruit.

"Yeah of course, just let me know. You got a new movie you working on?' he asks curiously. He listened to the movement through the line, imagining you already on your feet, moving around like you always did when you were multitasking.

“Yeah, supposed to be about some drug king in New York,” you said, shifting the phone between your shoulder and ear as you moved into the kitchen. “I think it’s just another spin-off from Superfly. You heard of it?”

“Yeah, course I have,” Michael said, a little more alive at that. “Loved it. That whole thing…the music… Curtis Mayfield on that soundtrack, man," he said in awe.

"Who you telling?' you say smiling.

He paused like he was picturing it. “That’s what I like about him,” he went on. “It ain’t just music. It’s like… it talks to you. You hear it and you feel like you somewhere else. Like you in the film, not just listenin’ to it.”

You nodded to yourself, peeling a grape as you listened. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. It feels like it belongs to the story, I love it too.”

Michael let out a small approving sound, like you’d said it right. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “That’s what good music is supposed to do.”

There was a brief pause, then his tone shifted again but with that little curiosity always underneath it. “But hey, I got another question for you.”

"Yeah go ahead," you tell Michael. You walked into your kitchen and pulled out some more fruit.

"Your favorite movie, it's Paris Blues right?"

"Of course it is, you know I love Diahann Carroll," you say smiling to yourself.

"Yeah I thought so," Michael leaned back. "I asked Paul and he didn't even know," he slipped in. "I had to tell him"

"He didn't know my favorite movie?" you asked quietly. It's small things like this that you wished Paul would pay attention to, instead of wondering who was looking at you. You found it annoying, you did love Paul, but you wondered if he felt the same way.

“Yeah, and then he goes, "Oh, you only wish to have her, that's why shes on my arm," Michael said, doing his best impression of Paul's voice. The way he said it made you chuckle despite how annoyed you were.

Michael smiled hearing it. "And I told him, I'm one of her best friends. That's enough for me," he said softly.

You shook your head, setting your bowl down on the counter. “Oh, Paul needs to stop it,” you scoffed. “I'll talk to him Michael, okay?”

“Alright, angel.” His voice softened. “I didn't mean to call and make you upset.”

“No, it's not your fault,” you replied quickly. “He's the one actin' crazy.”

Michael let out a small hum of agreement before leaning back in his chair. “Just call me when you can,” he said. “Okay?”

You smiled to yourself. “I will. He isn't gonna stop me from using my own phone either.”

That earned a quiet laugh from Michael. “Good.”

You picked your script back up from the counter and tucked it underneath your arm again. “Bye Mikey. Take care.”

“You too, angel.”

You could hear the smile in his voice right before the line went quiet. You couldn't wait till Paul came back.

On the other line, Michael hung up the phone putting it back. He felt bad, not for Paul but for you. He hated seeing you go through this, it was getting on his nerves. But Michael was gonna be there for you, regardless of what Paul's crazy ass said. He sat next to Quincy in the chair quietly, biting down on his tongue.

"What was that about?" Quincy asked already knowing.

"Nothing, just a cry for help"

Los Angeles, 1982. Few days later.

You pondered on what happened for the next few days, you were furious. Who did Paul think he was? You knew the conversation needed to happen. The problem was figuring out how to bring it up without it turning into another argument. It was a Friday afternoon and you just got finished doing a scene.

"Take 10 everyone!" The director yelled.

You let out a small huff, finally, you thought before walking away from the set. You walk to your makeup booth and sat down, "Can I get a water? And a snack?" you asked one of the workers.

You flagged down a worker, they nodded and walked off to get you what you needed. You leaned in the chair, legs crossed. You did a few touch-ups on your makeup, adding a little more eyeshadow and carefully lining your eyes again. The lights surrounding the mirror reflected off your skin, giving your face a warm golden glow. After studying your reflection for a moment, you reached for your blush and lightly brushed some across your cheeks.

"Here you are Miss," she nodded to you.

"Thank you pretty," you say smiling to her. Before she leaves you quickly ask her, "Hey has Paul been around? I thought he was gonna come watch me today."

“No ma’am, I haven’t seen him,” she replied. “I think he left after he dropped you off.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Haven’t seen him around since.”

You sigh to yourself lightly, and shake your head. "Get me a phone please," you tell her.

As she walks away you eat a piece of your fruit, chewing slightly harder than you meant to. It would have been nice if Paul could have just stood with you today, at least this one time.

The lady comes back with a small silver phone, she hands it to you.

You grab the phone and open it, you quickly dial Paul's number. "Walk with me" you tell the worker. You needed a witness for the bullshit that was just about to happen.

You walk outside to your trailer and walk in. You slowly pace back n forth in your heels waiting for him to pick up.

It took two full rings before he finally picked up, "Paul honey where are you? I thought you was gonna be here while I did my movie?" you asked him curious.

"I thought you said next week?"

Your brows immediately pulled together. “No, I clearly said this week.” You shook your head, already feeling yourself get irritated. “Do you even be listening to me?”

“Of course I listen,” Paul replied quickly. “I just forgot, y/n. I'm sorry.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead lightly. “It’s alright,” you said, though it didn't really feel alright. “You think you can come today? I gotta do another scene in a couple minutes. It's downtown." You found yourself hoping he'd say yes. You were always there for Paul. Always sitting through rehearsals, shows, interviews, whatever he needed. Surely he could spare one afternoon.

“Can't,” Paul answered. “I'm at a business meeting. Three hours away.”

Your expression fell. “What business do you got that's three hours away?” you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Look,” Paul said with a sigh. “I'm sure you're doing amazing like you always do. Just tell me all about it when I get home, alright sweets?”

"Seriously, you can't just come this one time?" you asked him, urging. "You're my boyfriend for crying out loud," you mumbled the last part not wanting to be loud.

“I'm sorry, alright? I'll be home soon,” he said, like that was supposed to make everything better.

You shook your head lightly. “Are you still mad? Is that what this is about?”

“Y/n, please. And no, it's not,” he replied, dismissing the question almost immediately. “I'll be home soon. Have a good day.”

Then he hung up. You slowly lowered the phone from your ear and stared at it for a second. What the hell was that? A business meeting? You turned and looked over at the worker standing nearby.

"Can you believe that?" you asked.

She let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she leaned against the counter. “No, I can’t,” she said honestly. “That didn’t sound right at all.”

You scoffed and popped another piece of fruit into your mouth. The more you thought about it, the more irritated you got. You were always showing up for Paul. Always making time. Always supporting whatever he had going on. Yet somehow when it came to something important to you, there was always a reason he couldn't be there. You sighed and set the bowl down.

You decided to make a different move. Reaching for the phone again, you dialed a different number before walking over to the couch. You sank into the cushions and waited for someone to answer.

“Hello?” he said on the other end.

“Michael? It’s y/n.”

“I know it’s you girl,” he replied right away, a smile already in his voice.

You couldn’t help the small smile that came to your face too as you shifted in your seat. You slipped off your shoes and pulled your feet up onto the couch, settling in a little more. “Hey…” you said softly, waving off the worker as she stood nearby. You can go, it’s okay. She gave you a quick nod before heading out, leaving the room quieter.

"How's life treating you?" you ask quietly, trying to make some small talk. You didn't want to seem so desperate for some attention right now, so you decided to ease into the conversation.

"Hm, it's been pretty good, just a little tired is all." Michael's fingers gently played against a piano.

"Hm, that's good. Not the being tired part, that's bad. But i'm glad you're good overall," you lightly shook your head to yourself.

Michael glances up from the keys before speaking, "What's going on hm? You're stuttering over your words."

"Yeah well, Paul was...." Paul. That name. Michael lightly rolled his eyes before contuinig on listening.

"He was supposed to be here you know, watching me do my movie and recite my scenes but, he just left after dropping me off," you scoffed. “Sounds shitty, doesn’t it?” you asked, your tone turning a little sarcastic as you stared off across the room.

"Yeah pretty rough, shitty." Michael, corrected himself. "M'sorry bout that."

"Not your fault, I guess he just doesn't really have time for me anymore. I make time for him but he rarely gives it back to me...it's like i'm an old guitar of his or something," you sounded annoyed and saddened. Imagine having to put up with this and you can't even get fifty percent of what you give in.

Break up with him. Thats what Michael wanted to tell you, but he kept quiet and continued to listen.

"And mind you he didn't tell me anything about this business trip he had today and now he's maybe like 3 hours away, m'like are you kidding?" you say defeated on the phone. Your nails lightly run over your face.

"And I told him, I said Paul. I'm gonna be doing a movie soon and i'd love for you to come watch me, he said yeah sure n now look, wheres he at?"

Michael could hear the little edge in your voice through the phone, that quiet attitude mixed with a pout you were trying not to show. He paused for a second, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“M’sorry, y/n,” he said softly. "What about…" he started, then hesitated like he was already checking his own schedule in his head. “What about if I could come down?”

Your mood shifted lightly, you sat up. "You'd do that? I mean it isn't too serious, i'm just practicing but yeah, you think you could make it?"

Michael got up from his seat, "Yeah i'll be there. You can count on it"

You smiled lightly to yourself, "Thanks Mikey baby, I appreciate it."

On the other end of the line, Michael went still for a second, like the words had caught him off guard in the best way. His grip tightened slightly around the phone, a small breath slipping out of him as he looked down, trying to act like it didn’t do something to him.

"You know I got you, see you inna bit," he says before hanging up.

You hum to yourself, your worries slowly decreasing. It was nice having Michael around, because he was there when you needed him. It's a shame you have to count on your best friend more often than your boyfriend. Seeing how Michael was a huge star himself, and yet he was able to make time for you. That meant a lot. You then get a knock on your trailer, you get up from the couch and walk over to the door.

"You've got 2 minutes left," the worker told you. You nodded and slipped your heels back on before walking back to the set. You walk back and see everyone is already getting back into their stations. A few other artists come around you to tidy up your hair and makeup. A small brush paints over your lips, applying just a little more shine.

"Ms.l/n, Michael is here," you were notified.

You turn your head and smile at him. There he was, just like he promised. Dressed in one of his jackets with jeans. He had on those shades, the ones he wore at his Grammy event, chewing some gum, most likely big red. His curls fell naturally around his face, slightly tousled. He pulled off the shades as he glanced around the busy set, cameras, lights and a whole bunch of talking. Wasn't nothing new to him. He finally spotted you getting prettied up by a few artist.

His eyes softened as he started walking up to you, "There she is," he says smiling. You walk towards him and wrap your arms around him, hugging him. His hands wrapped around you as well, traveling but just stopping along your waist.

"You chewin' real hard on that gum," you teased him still smiling.

"Well, you cheesing real hard, how bout that?''

"Oh shut up, i'm just glad someone's here to support me," you say shrugging.

Michael chuckled, still chewing on his gum, "He really couldn't stop by?' he then asked quietly.

You shook your head, "Quote, 3 hours away" you rolled your eyes. "I bet if he saw you here, he'd be back in less than 20 minutes"

"Yeah, considering how clear he made it to me," he then tilts his head down at you, "You talk to him about that yet?" he nods to you.

You hesitated, then shook your head. “No, not yet,” you admitted. “When he comes back, I’ll talk to him about that… and then some.”

Michael nods at you, taking in your feature just for a second. Your eyes, the way they grew slightly from when he was talking to you. The way your lips shined from the new application of gloss against them, so pretty to look at. What if he just leaned in for second just to kiss them?

"Michael?"

“Yeah, I heard you,” he said softly. “You need to go on set soon. I’m excited.” His eyes stayed on you for a second longer, warm and steady, before he nodded toward the set. “Go do your thang,” he added with a light chuckle. “I’ll be here watchin’.”

"Mhm," you hum before walking back to the set.

He watches the way your hips twitch as you walk, you were so sexy to him. The way your legs graced the floor every time you walked, hands swiftly flowing by your sides. A pretty young thang Michael would call you to Quincy, with a gorgeous smile and a playful persona.

You walked on set, heels clicking against the ground. You stand next to one of the actors getting ready to act out the scene. Michael sits in a seat pushed up front, given to him by one of crew members.

"Thank you," Michael nods to them. Before he gets settled in they quietly ask him for an autograph, sliding him a small poster and marker. Michael chuckled as he took the pen and signed off on the photo. He then sat comfortably, waiting for your performance.

"All take it back, scene 2."

You nod towards the director, then glance at Michael. He gives you a small nod, "You go it."

"And action!"

Michael watched you, such a natural. He loved how easily you slipped into character, like the cameras weren't even there. Every line came effortlessly, every emotion right where it needed to be. He found himself smiling more than once as he sat back and watched. The scene carried on for a while, take after take, until the director finally called for a break. The set immediately came alive with movement again. Crew members adjusted equipment, actors wandered off to their trailers, and conversations filled the space that had been silent moments before. You let out a breath as you stepped away from the cameras, rolling your shoulders and scanning the crowd.

You then walked right over to Michael, "How'd I do?"

"You did perfect, as always," he says getting up from the chair hands by his side. His glasses were tucked in his jacket, still chewing.

"You still chewing on that gum?" you chuckled glancing to his mouth. You then start walking outside to your trailer. Michael followed after walking beside you. "Does it still have flavor in it?"

"You wanna find out?" he asks you quietly. The words slipped out faster than he could count for, and judging by the look on your face, you'd caught it too. He didn't mean to say it out loud.

You glanced over at him, "What that mean Michael?" you asked him. Was he flirting with you?

Thoughts like this had been sitting in the back of his mind for months now, maybe longer. Long enough that sometimes he forgot he was supposed to keep it there.

Michael felt the corner of his mouth twitch when you asked him. He knew exactly what he meant. That was the problem. You were just about the last person he should've been saying things like that to. And for a brief second, he wondered what would happen if he just told you. Just telling you the thoughts he had with you, kissing you, giving you the sweetness you deserved. But the thought disappeared as quickly as it came.

Paul.

The name flashed through his head like a warning sign.

Instead, Michael reached into his pocket and slipped a pack of big red from his pocket. He pulled out a piece. "See how long it last with you," a quiet laugh bubbled in his chest. If he couldn't get himself out of this conversation, maybe the gum could.

Oh, that's what he meant, you thought, it sounded strangely confessional. No "that's not what I meant," none of that. You could be over thinking about it, it was joke.

You glanced down at the silver gum stick in his fingers, then back up at him. Your hand moved before you really thought about it, taking it from him slowly. You unwrap the silver plastic from the gum and pop it in your mouth. Your tongue catches it first before your teeth do. Michael stares at you, eyes focused.

"Mhm," you say to him you continue walking. He walks besides you, analyzing what you just did. As you both walk, a few people come walking up to you.

"Michael Michael!"

"Y/n!"

Shit, was the only thing you thought. Michael looked at you, he knew that look. The reporters nodded, scribbling notes down as another camera was lifted in your direction.

"Y/n how are you this beautiful afternoon?"

"Oh i'm doing amazing, just finished up doing a scene," you say flashing a smile at the innocent question, but you knew there was more.

"I see you have the King of Pop with you here, is Michael perhaps going to be in the movie?"

"Unfortunately no, Michael just came to be supportive of me," you nod to the cameras.

"That's right, y/n has worked hard on this," Michael agrees into the mike. "It's important she feels appreciated."

"You know Y/n where is Paul? Has he been around?"

"Of course he has, he's my boyfriend. He dropped me off earlier today," you say slightly irritated at the question. In a sense, it felt like a lie you were telling. Lying for Paul. Yeah Paul was there, on his own time.

"He's off on a business trip, a couple of hours away," you clarify. Of course, they asked you more and questions, just nosy. But Michael stood right next to you, keeping you calm, making sure you didn't feel too bad. He hovered over you, slightly taller, his jaw tightened every time he watched you talk. His eyes glanced over you as you talked about the movie.

"So stay tune, it's coming soon," you say giving that pretty smile. "Wish I could talk more but i'm done for today," you say walking off. As you do you pull Michael with you.

You quickly stepped into the trailer and shut the door behind you. The noise from outside instantly faded, leaving only a dull murmur beyond the walls. Michael chuckled softly at you.

"Nothing is funny. They're so…" you said, rubbing your forehead.

"Nosy," he finished for you, taking a seat across from you.

"That's one word for it. One question turns into twenty. Then somehow they're askin' about things that ain't even got nothin' to do with why they're there. Just a bunch of..."

But before you could finish the phone rang. You glanced over to it, and so did Michael. You picked up the phone, crossing your legs, "Y/n, who am I speaking with?"

"Saw you on the tv. He's there?" you heard on the other line. Paul.

You rolled your eyes, "He came to support me, unlike other folks."

"You can't just go a few minutes without him can you?" Paul asked you irritated.

"Do not start," you tell him crossing your leg tighter, trying to keep yourself from going off while Michael was there. "If you would've just paid attention to what I said a couple of days prior, it would be you being here instead. But you don't give a shit do you," you say lightly stressing the last part. You then take a breather, you got pissed, real pissed. You've been holding it in for so long that's starting to boil over.

There was silence on the other end. Not the kind where the call had dropped. The kind where Paul was trying very hard not to say the first thing that came to mind.

Finally, he let out a slow breath. "That's not fair."

You laughed once, it wasn't a happy laugh. "Not fair?"

"No." His voice remained calm, but you could hear the frustration creeping in. "I've been working, y/n."

"And I've been working too."

You could practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't appreciate hearing that Michael's there filling in for me," he says annoyed.

Your grip tightened around the phone. "Nobody's filling in for you. You're leaving me alone, and I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with me. No matter what I do, it just seems like i'm never as important as you are to me," you mumbled quietly. You couldn't believe it, you felt your eyes stinging and watering. Were you actually about to cry?

Michael saw, for a moment, he wanted you to hang up. Just hang up the damn phone so he could pull you into a hug and tell you to forget about all of it. Forget about him. But he didn't. He sat where he was, elbows resting on his knees, quietly listening to the scene unfolding in front of him. Every now and then his eyes would flick up to you. You looked angry. No. You looked hurt, months of holding back how you felt started to build up. And somehow that was worse.

"Yeah, tonight," You then say. You hang up the phone and lightly rub over your eyes. You sat quietly not saying anything, just taking a breather.

Michael finally spoke, "You alright angel?"

"Yeah just, I don't know what I do wrong. Seriously," you scoffed. "I mean, I'm loyal. I do what I can do, do you know how many times i've had to stop what i'm doing just to cater to something he had going on?"

"Sounds like a man child," Michael muttered.

You lightly glared at him, "Don't," was all you said.

"But it's true isn't it?" Michael asked not caring about your serious tone. He was fed up watching you be used, and in a way sick of you defending your shit of a boyfriend. He tilted his head slightly, "I mean, can't remember anything about you, constantly putting your stuff aside just so he can be happy? It's ridiculous" he finished.

"You only see the bad stuff because that's all I'm telling you right now," you lie slightly. There you go lying for him.

"Then tell me the good stuff," Michael said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He eyed you, waiting for just another pathetic excuse, but nothing came out.

"Hmm." Michael hummed, shaking his head. "See, that's what I'm talkin' about."

You rolled your eyes immediately at that, you was about to say something until Michael cut you off.

“No, don’t do that,” he said, cutting through your reaction. “Don’t act like I’m just talkin’ to hear myself talk.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going, not even giving you space to dodge it.

"You keep doin’ this," he said, pointing slightly like he was emphasizing the pattern. “Him first. Him always first. ‘Is he okay?’ ‘Did he make it?’ ‘Is he mad? And when do you do that for you?” he asked.

"That ain’t fair to you, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.” He leaned back just slightly, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to stay calm but couldn’t fully hide it.

He let you sit in silence for a moment, neither of you saying anything. The argument that had seemed so important a second ago suddenly felt far away.

You stared down at your hands, you didn't feel like crying, but your eyes had started to water anyway. Michael saw and started to fumble with his fingers. Most of his frustration drained right out of him, his jaw softened. Maybe he'd pushed too hard. Maybe he'd said too much. You looked exhausted more than anything. Tired of defending yourself. Tired of defending Paul. Tired of carrying around feelings you'd been trying not to deal with.

Michael swallowed hard. The last thing he wanted was to be another person making your day worse.

"C'mere," he said softly. You didn't get up, you just sat there, legs crossed, eyes looking up in annoyance, and a small bit of hurt. He walked over instead. "Please." There was a small change in his voice on that last word, like he wasn’t trying to argue with you, just trying to reach you.

You scoffed at him, but slowly got up from the seat. Your arms were folded as you looked at him. He looked at you, your brown eyes and long lashes. He brings you into a small much needed hug, arms wrapping low around your waist. Slowly but surely, your arms wrapped around him, hugging his frame. You pressed your head against his chest, his hand slowly rubbed your back in slow circles. The smell of his cologne hit you next, soft and familiar, something sweet and warm that eased the frustration sitting in your chest more than you wanted to admit.

This felt, good. Hugging Michael felt good, it always did.

Michael's arms tightened around you slightly. "M'sorry," he said quietly. "You know I don't say nothin' to hurt you."

You knew that, but hearing those words hurt you a lil. "Yeah well, they hurt," you mumble into his chest. Michael let out a small sigh. You then lightly look up to Michael. There wasn't anything playful about his expression now, just the small frustration he's been carrying around all day. The kind that seemed to get worse every time Paul came up.

"You know what pisses me off?" Michael asked quietly to you, eyes low.

You frowned slightly. "What?"

His jaw tightened, "The fact that he had all day."

You blinked slow and shook your head lightly, "Michael—"

"No." His hand slid a little lower against your back, settling comfortably. His fingers spread there for a moment, the movement was small, you almost could miss it if you didn't pay attention. It made the frustration in his voice feel more real, like he was trying to keep himself together before saying something he'd regret. His thumb brushed lightly against the fabric of your shirt as he shook his head.

"He had all day to be here." His eyes searched yours. "All day. He knew this was important to you."

You looked away, "Michael I-"

Michael immediately shook his head. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make excuses for him." The trailer fell quiet, maybe a bit of gossiping from other people outside, but other than that. Silence. His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest second. Just a second, but you saw it. Michael saw your expression change. Saw the realization. Instead of backing away, his jaw tightened. Almost stubbornly. Like part of him was tired of pretending.

"If I knew you needed me somewhere," he said quietly, "I'd be there."

You stare at him, closely. "Yeah, I know" you say softly. You don't say anything, just stare.

"I want you to do better," he says quietly. His eyes pause on your lips. He then leaned in slightly, waiting, just to see if you'd pull away from him.

When you didn't, he pressed his lips to yours. He lingers on your lower lip, drawing it between his just enough to make the breath catch in your throat. Then he sucked it softly, the wet pull sending a jolt straight between your thighs, something you've never really felt with Paul. His tongue softly traced the seam of your mouth before he let go, only to capture your upper lip the same way, biting down just a little, enough to sting, enough to make you want more.

Oh Michael, you thought to yourself.

Your eyes lightly closed as you kissed him back, but why? Maybe because you didn't want to reject this. Maybe a small part of you wanted this, the feeling of being wanted, the feeling of someone taking control. Your lips slid against his, the slow press of your mouth turning the moment heavier, thicker. Your hands were lightly gripped at his jacket. He bit your bottom lip again then soothed it with a slow lick, you did the same shortly after to him. At the moment, you forgot all about Paul. You both then separate slowly from the kiss,

"Can you do that for me?" he asks you after doing so. For a second, you forgot what he was talking about, but right. Do better.

That kiss...definitely wasn't friendly. It was lined with a temptation you wanted to indulge in. You glanced to his lips, they were lightly smeared with your lip gloss, showing evidence of the temptation you fell for, Michael.

Michael knew the line was crossed, "Don't think too much, it's just a kiss," he says like it's nothing, even thought he knows it wasn't. "People kiss."

You lightly pushed him off and stared.

You wasn't sure what to say or do, yell at him? Scream? Smack him? He just kissed you and you didn't even stop him. In fact, you continued to kiss, and kissed longer till you could taste his gum flavor as well.

Better fact, you just cheated on Paul.

Michael watched the look settle on your face, "Hey...hey."

"Don't hey hey me Michael, are you serious" you scolded him. "Why, why would," you turned away. "I got to go," you say packing your stuff in your purse.

work of ©cherrishkissed ♡, I'll post the other parts laterrrrr, ignore typos!!!

If you wanna be in the tag list for everything JACKSON, ᥬᩤ click here!

current taglist! °❀⋆

no one has ever come close to looking as good as ‘come together’ 1988 micheal jackson!!!!!! 😩

after months of emotional distance, you file for divorce and move out. michael refuses to sign the papers and comes to your new apartment. (ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs 1/2)

solitude is now your best friend.

two months ago, you filed for divorce.

it wasn't an unplanned decision; it was crystal clear to you. the best thing you could do, for yourself and him. you didn't ask for michael's opinion.

this was the first time you were selfish in your marriage.