Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
JUSTICE FOR NOLAN WELLS. Wells was last seen on July 4 on the island, where he was hanging out with a group of ( white) friends. The friends returned home, but no one has come forward with any information about what happened to him. Wells, a general business major and football player for Southwest Mississippi Community College, was wearing blue swim trunks, no shirt, and sunglasses.
Sheriff’s Department confirmed that a body matching the description of Wells had been found by the U.S. Parks Service. The body was discovered around 8:45 a.m. on the west end of Horn Island.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
pairing: michael jackson x janets!best!friend!reader
summary: after y/n and janet reunite, janet notices michael’s sudden shy demeanour and decides her and the other brothers need to act.
masterlist 🤎 part two
~1970~
the rhythmic tinkling of the doorbell rang through the house as y/n dropped the blocks in her hand, her head shooting up, alert like a puppy.
“mama, door!” she called out, hearing her mother dust off her hands in the kitchen, a few pans clattering before she wiped her hands on her apron, walking past y/n to open it.
all the houses along the street were small, only one story and painted the same, striking white colour.
y/n paid no mind to whoever was at the door, continuing her block sorting, pushing the star-shaped one into the star-shaped hole.
“i’m katherine, i noticed you moved in next to us, i thought i’d bring over some fresh cookies for you,”
“thank you so much, you didn’t have to,”
“it’s nothin’ big, don’t worry! is it just you here?”
“just me and my daughter. y/n darling, come say ‘hi’!”
at the sound of her name, y/n looked up, dropping the blocks and scampering to where her mother was at the door.
opposite her, a kindly-looking woman stood in front of her, holding a tin packed full of cookies.
“darling,” her mother crouched down beside her, “this is mrs jackson,”
y/n looked between her mother and katherine, offering a small wave.
“you know,” katherine knelt down, “i have a daughter around the same age, if little y/n was lookin’ for some friends in the neighbourhood?”
y/n’s mother looked to her, gasping softly.
“how’s that, sweetheart? you can make your first friend,”
the small girl just nodded, still too shy to say anything in front of katherine, who clapped her hands together happily.
”just send her over here whenever,” y/n’s mother smiled, “i’ll make some lemonade for them,”
that was how y/n ended up standing opposite janet, who was holding onto a doll in one hand, the other bunched into the side of her dress as she swayed from side to side on the spot.
“hi,” y/n was the first to speak, still half-shy as she held her own doll in one hand, “this is lily,” she held up the doll by the arm.
janet looked between her and the doll, before lifting hers too.
“daisy,”
and that was how the two girls started their friendship, y/n showing janet all the dolls clothes she had in a little box under the sofa.
“i think daisy would like a pink dress,” y/n fished out a little tattered dress, but janet took it like chanel, her eyes wide.
katherine came round later in the evening to find the two girls surrounded by little clothes, and shoes, and hats, and jackets, changing the outfit of their dolls every few seconds.
“they’ve been at it all afternoon,” y/n’s mother stood in the doorway beside katherine, a fond smile on both of their faces.
“just glad my janet finally has a friend of her own,” katherine said, watching as y/n helped janet wrap a tiny scarf round her doll’s neck.
“we best get goin’, we gotta take our sons for a show,” she said, her smile faltering for a second.
“a show?”
“well…see…my boys, they…they perform,”
“how so?”
“singin’…dancin’,” katherine said, her expression half-guarded, “whatever joe wants ‘em to do,”
y/n’s mother nodded, noting the look of weariness on the other woman’s face, and knowing not to pry.
she’d learn of the jackson 5 soon enough.
❀❀❀❀
~1971~
from that day on, y/n and janet had been best friends.
from visiting each other’s houses after school, to going to the park together with their mothers, the two girls were inseparable.
so naturally, y/n had met all the jackson brothers.
jackie was the oldest, then tito, and they talked to y/n the least out of all the brothers.
marlon would occasionally walk past and ruffle her hair, and randy would sometimes join in on playful teasing.
and michael, well, he didn’t talk as much either.
but all of them loved to tease y/n.
she was small, obviously being younger than them, and slightly smaller than janet too.
squirt.
that’s what they’d call her.
“watch it, squirt!” from marlon when he’d rush past, basketball in hand.
or a, “y’all playin’ dolls again, squirt?” in a mocking tone from jackie.
even michael used the nickname. “want anythin’ to eat, squirt?”
but when he used it, he made sure he didn’t hurt her feelings. he made sure y/n was actually comfortable with the nickname, and not to hurt her feelings.
the other boys teased her and janet relentlessly for being bossy and playing with dolls at their ‘big old age’.
but it was always michael who’d walk over later, holding the dress randy had snatched and hidden from her and janet, kneeling down to make sure she was okay.
“they weren’t too mean, were they, squirt?” he’d say, handing it back softly, helping push the doll’s arms back through the holes, as y/n would shake her head.
and even if she did, he’d make sure she was definitely not lying.
“they’re idiots, y’know that, squirt? pay ‘em no mind,”
and y/n would leave happy, knowing no matter where randy or marlon would hide her stuff, she’d always get it back from michael.
for a whole year, her life was perfect.
that was, until, katherine came to the door, a solemn expression on her face as she spoke to y/n’s mother.
the girl heard snippets of the conversation.
“encino…moving…the boys…the tour…music…”
moving?!
did that mean janet was going too?
that was how y/n ended up standing outside the house of the jacksons, one hand in her mother’s, and the other clinging hard to her doll, still dressed in the outfit janet had picked out.
she blinked hard, hot tears filling her eyes as she watched jackie and tito carry a heavy box into the back of their volkswagon van.
janet followed the boys out of the house, also blinking back tears as she clutched her own doll to her chest.
“katherine,” y/n’s mother said, as she walked to where they stood, watching.
janet stood beside her mother, swaying from side to side.
“i’m sorry about the girls,” katherine said, looking down where y/n and janet sniffled, mumbling things to each other.
“it was inevitable,” y/n’s mother said, watching as her daughter took off the miniature necklace from her doll, holding it out to janet.
“come on baby,” y/n’s mother knelt down, “janet needs to go with her brothers, alright?”
y/n just sniffled, gently handing the little necklace to the girl opposite her.
as much as it ached y/n’s mother to see her daughter upset, she knew visiting would be difficult too.
“bye y/n,” janet whispered, keeping her voice quiet as she sniffled.
any louder, and she would’ve cried more.
“bye janet,”
y/n watched with her mother as katherine led janet away gently, strapping her into the back of the car, not even registering the soft sound of footsteps coming towards them.
“hey squirt,”
y/n’s teary-eyed gaze was snapped from janet as michael tentatively knelt down, so he was eye level with her.
“wanted to give you this,” he held a book in his hands, the words ‘peter pan’ in cursive writing written across the front.
the girl’s attention was momentarily drawn to the book, slightly tattered round the edges, but still in good enough condition to read.
her hands were shaky as she took the book from him, holding it with both hands.
“it was my favourite book,” michael said, his voice gentle, “thought maybe you’d wanna read it,”
“oh michael…” y/n’s mother said, her voice full of gratitude as her daughter’s teary eyes flickered over the cover with slight curiosity.
michael was quiet for a second, watching the girl in front of him.
“catch you around, squirt,” he straightened, giving her hair one last ruffle as he headed towards the car.
marlon, tito, jermaine and jackie made sure to ruffle her hair as they walked past too, calling out a quick, “bye squirt!” as they did.
that was the last y/n saw of the jacksons.
she didn’t forget her old friend, but her life eventually went on without them, their memory kept alive by the doll she had, and the book michael had left her.
❀❀❀❀
~1986~
y/n had taken to modelling like a house on fire.
she had a commanding presence on the runway, a specific charm only she could muster for magazine shoots, and a face people would kill for.
but beneath all that?
she was almost still a child at heart.
it was early when she awoke to the sound of the postman walking past her house (she still lived with her mother), walking down the stairs with a mug in her hands and wrapped in her nightgown, to open the door.
a single cream, thick envelope lay at the bottom of the door, and in the front, her address scrawled.
she didn’t recognise the elegant, looped handwriting.
with a soft hum, y/n set her mug down on the table, mumbling a soft “morning” to her mother as she tore the envelope open.
a letter slid out from it, and on top?
a little, silver necklace.
the same one she had given janet when she’d left for encino.
surely not…
dear y/n,
oh god it took so long to find you! but im so grateful i did, and im so sorry it took so long for me to do so. us jacksons are having a reunion in encino next week, and i’d be so grateful if you could come. I’ve missed you so much.
lots of love,
janet
for a few seconds, y/n was frozen still.
her old best friend, janet, had remembered her? and invited her for a reunion? how could she say?
the compound in encino was huge.
it had a fountain in the middle and a long brick path, the house separate away from the public with a large black gate that had to be opened for her by security.
y/n hadn’t exactly thought about what she’d say, looking down at the dress she’d chosen - a simple black one and some heels.
was it too little? too much?
it was too late to change now, of course.
with a deep swallow, she raised her fist to the thick wooden door, and knocked.
one…two…three…four…
the door opened before she could count to five in her head, and there she was. janet.
and god, she was beautiful.
“janet,” y/n finally spoke, her eyes wide as she stared at the best friend she had had long ago.
before either of them could say another word, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, mumblings of ‘i missed you’ and ‘you’re so gorgeous, girl’ between them.
the house wasn’t too full, with all the brothers (except jermaine), sisters and their parents in the large living room.
jackie and tito were having a full discussion on the sofa, joe sat in his armchair and smoking a cigar.
marlon, michael and randy were sat on the floor, and rebbie and la toya were in their own seats, talking softly.
they only noticed y/n at the doorway when katherine froze from the kitchen door, a tray in her hands.
“y/n,” she said, her voice full of disbelief.
she’d hardly expected y/n to actually turn up.
the whole room was silent for a second before it erupted into loud gasps and exclamations.
“squirt, that you?”
“no way that’s y/n!”
“you’re pulling my leg, jan!”
only michael watched from the floor, silent, but a small smile on his face.
of course she’d heard of his fame now.
he’d released off the wall and thriller, he was all famous now. y/n hardly expected him to remember her.
y/n and janet spent a whole hour on the sofa together, catching up on life; y/n’s modelling, how fancy janet’s life was now, all about y/n’s mother (who couldn’t make it due to work).
it wasn’t until after dinner that michael got y/n alone.
jackie and tito were arguing over a card game at the dining table, marlon and randy had disappeared outside with a basketball, and the girls were somewhere upstairs.
y/n stood by the sink with her sleeves rolled to her elbows, rinsing a few glasses despite katherine insisting she didn't have to.
"you really don't gotta do that," michael's soft voice came from the doorway.
the girl jumped, almost getting her sleeves wet as her head snapped back.
“didn’t mean to startle you,” michael said, his voice sheepish as she shook her head, mumbling a small “it’s fine”.
he leaned against the frame, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, smiling almost sheepishly.
"old habits," y/n said quietly, “my mama would've told me off if i left without helping,”
a silence settled over them.
it wasn’t uncomfortable but it felt almost…nostalgic.
it wasn’t broken til michael walked next to her, picking up a tea towel.
“wash,” he said, eyes on her hands where she’s frozen, looking to him almost confused.
“you’re helpin’?”
“course,”
there was silence for a few seconds.
“surprised you didn’t forget me,” michael said, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.
“forget you? kinda impossible now you’re a big hit- sorry,” y/n caught the expression he gave her, one eyebrow raised as she winced.
”well, marlon always took my dolls,”
“he did,”
“and randy hid their clothes,”
“he did,”
“but you always gave them back,”
“i did,” michael said, drying off another mug and accepting a plate from her.
there was another silence, but it was less awkward, this time.
janet watched, her eyes wide as she peeked round the doorframe. oh god.
she matched up the stairs where all the brothers were sitting, playing some board game between them as the sisters sat on the bed and talked.
“family meeting,” she said, her voice as bossy as it always was.
“what did i do?” marlon looked up from the game, his piece still in his hand.
“nothing,” janet waved a dismissive hand towards him.
“then why're we havin' a meeting?" jackie asked.
janet folded her arms, letting them all watch her, waiting a deliberate second too long so they’d all lean in closer, desperate to know.
"because michael's in love,”
the room went quiet.
"...what?" tito blinked.
"with who?" randy asked.
“and do they like him back?”
“of course not, it’s mikey-,”
“don’t be a jerk marlon,”
“shut up jackie,”
“why don’t you-?”
“all of you, shut up!” janet hissed, narrowing their eyes in annoyance, “focus on the task at hand,”
“so who is it?” randy asked again.
“y/n,”
there was a pause between them all as they exchanged looks, their eyes blown wide as the sisters gasped.
then the room erupted with cheers and gasps of “i knew it!” and “ain’t no way!”
katherine, who had wandered in carrying a basket of folded washing, looked around at all of them.
"..what are y'all yellin' about now?"
"michael likes y/n," janet announced proudly, a grin on her face.
katherine blinked, before she stepped into the room, still carrying the basket.
“so what are y’all waiting for?” she asked, “get them together,”
that was how janet officially started ‘operation g.t.t’ (get them together).
janet didn’t waste a second.
“okay,” she clapped her hands once, pacing in front of them like she was briefing a military operation, “we’ve got a emergency,”
“this is not an emergency,” jackie muttered, “this is michael bein’ shy again,”
“it’s an emergency,” janet repeated sharply, pointing at him, “because y/n is here now. in the house. breathing the same air. do you understand the potential?”
“so what’s the plan?” randy leaned forwards.
“we make them alone together,”
“that’s it?” tito frowned.
katherine set the basket down with a knowing smile, “just don’t make it obvious.”
“mama, it’s already obvious,” marlon said, rolling his eyes as tito gave him a slap on the leg.
janet was already halfway out the room before anyone could argue further.
“where you goin’?” jackie called after her, looking to where she walked down the hallway in confusion.
“to initiate the first phase,” she grinned, like that was the most obvious answer in the world.
y/n was downstairs in the kitchen, still drying with michael alongside her when she saw janet walk in.
“hey jan,”
“hey y/n, got a sec?”
“uh sure,” y/n said, giving michael an apologetic look as he set down another cup, stepping off with janet.
“you busy tomorrow?” janet asked, trying to hide the excitement in her eyes as y/n shrugged.
“uh…no, not really,” y/n said.
“good,” janet nodded immediately, “stay a few days,”
michael blinked.
“what?”
“you just got here. you came all this way. you’re not leaving after one night,”
“i don’t wanna intrude…” y/n hesitated, glancing between her and michael.
“you’re not intruding,” janet said quickly, stepping further in, “this is literally the least intruding situation possible. you’re family,”
that word landed softly in the room.
michael looked down at the counter, like he was trying to pretend it didn’t affect him.
y/n’s expression softened.
“…are you sure?”
“positive,”
she turned slightly, finally looking at michael now.
“right, mikey?”
“oh…uh…yeah. of course. you should stay,” michael straightened a little, caught off guard, “i mean, if you want to. not like- y’know. you don’t have to. but you can. obviously,”
y/n nodded, smiling softly.
“i’ll stay a few days, then,” she decided softly.
janet smiled, turning her back to them as she moved towards the stairs.
their plan had officially began.
❀❀❀❀
comment on the taglist comment to be tagged in p.2!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❀⋆.ೃ࿔ ݁˖·┆ bad era michael jackson x curly-haired pop star reader
𑣲⋆ summary : in which michael jackson keeps loving you the same way, even as everything between you slowly starts to feel different.
𑣲⋆ type : angst
𑣲⋆ a/n : the song ‘lately’ by tyrese was heavily used for inspiration
m.list
೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 — present | 1989
The reporter clicked their pen once, then twice— their eyes flickering over the pop star seated in the velvet armchair a few feet across from them.
The celebrity wore a vivid red dress shirt, black slacks, his signature loafers, his hair done in a loose Jerry curl mullet with multiple stray pieces falling over his forehead, and Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses he refused to discard.
As the reporter cleared their throat, they cued the cameras to roll with a wave of their hand.
aaandddd action.
“mr. jackson,” they begin, “you’ve just concluded your first solo tour, correct?”
Michael nodded, a heartfelt smile breaking across his face, “That’s right,” he said softly.
“A hundred and twenty-three shows across fifteen countries,” the interviewer emphasized. “You were on the road for nearly two years. That's spectacular dedication, Mr. Jackson.”
The man responded shyly, glancing down. “Thank you.”
The journalist then went on to inquire Michael's thoughts on the many successful things surrounding his album: Bad, such as its five consecutive number one hits, its peaking at number one in twenty-five countries… The list goes on.
But then mentions of you followed.
“You’ve been married to y/n for about four years now,” they smiled, the interviewer's tone turned slightly teasing. “But the two of you have known each other for nearly two decades, haven’t you?”
Michael paused for a few moments, adjusting his clothes slightly before letting out a laugh under his breath.
“I've known her since my days in Gary, Indiana,” Michael clarified.
a series of claps traveled through the live audience seated across the room, their expressions smitten with Hollywood's most beloved couple.
Michael Jackson—a man whose unfathomable fame made him seem almost beyond human, with extraordinary talent and an innate sense of rhythm that set a standard musicians still struggle to reach today.
He had it all, and of course, most notably, that included you.
You, a woman whose fame rivaled the brightest stars, with a beauty adored by cameras and a talent so extraordinary that audiences often forgot they were watching someone perform at all.
With rumors of your relationship surfacing in the tabloids in the early 80’s, the two of you finally tied the knot in 1985, sending the world into a frenzy.
to the world, you were Michael Jackson and y/n l/n, the legendary Hollywood celebrities who controlled the media,
But to the both of you, you were something entirely different.
Just Michael and y/n, two curly-headed preteens who first met by connecting through La Toya and often met outside the Jackson family home in Gary, talking about nothing remotely important yet becoming indescribably dear to each other.
Michael, who had never fully understood what it felt like to be a child and explore friendship,
and you, who often spoke without thinking or restraint, easily bringing smiles to those you were around.
Although he eventually moved away from Gary in late 1969, you reunited years later in California in 1979.
It was like no time had passed between you.
The interviewer glanced at his notebook before clearing his throat.
“It's said the two of you began dating soon after you reunited,” they say. “Also, you asked her on the bench of a playground?”
Michael laughed, the memories of that evening flooding in like waves.
೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 — June of 1979
You were twenty that year, sitting on the park bench of your neighborhood as you held a melting light blue popsicle, your legs unconsciously kicking underneath here and there.
Your short curly black hair was pulled back lightly into a low bun, a yellow hair clip pinning your bangs back as you watched a crowd of grade schoolers making a racket around in the playground.
Michael sat beside you silently, also with a popsicle in hand, although his eyes were directed at the moloch below him.
He had just finished recording his fifth solo album earlier that month; the long, restless nights of recording vocals, arguing over creative control, and changing lyrics were over.
And you had just been accepted for a lead role in an upcoming movie expected to begin shooting in the coming fall.
With his quiet, you sighed before speaking up, “After this year, things’ll only get harder,” you murmured.
Michael's gaze had lifted from the ground, his deep-set brown eyes turning toward you with somberness, “You're not one to usually talk about that kind of stuff.”
You nodded your head in agreement, “I know. But now that everything’s coming together all at once, I'm a bit nervous,” you admitted, biting the last piece of your ice cream.
“Of what?”
“I don't know,” you huffed, looking down, “I don't know why I'm saying all of this anyway.”
Michael followed your eyes before redirecting him to the plastic convenience store bag that sat between you, reaching in and taking out another popsicle.
He unwrapped it, careful to leave the wrapper around the end of the stick before hanging it to you, who took it without a second thought.
You continued: “We’ll get even busier. We can already barely hang out these days; soon, we won’t be able to do it at all.” You bit into your new popsicle.
His brows knit together at this.
“What?”
You looked at him, a heartfelt smile across your face, “Let's hang out a lot while we still can, okay?”
Michael paused as he registered the meaning of your words along with the approaching and inevitable reality.
His lips folded into a thin line before he reluctantly nodded.
“..okay.”
After that, the two of you sat in momentary silence. You seemed strangely at peace with it.
As though losing time together didn’t frighten you at all.
But Michael couldn’t convince himself to be that way at all; his eyes narrowed over at you, who continued to stare at the floor.
He let out a deep and shaky breath.
“y/n,” he murmured.
Hearing your name, he watched as your eyes flickered over to finally meet him.
“..if I asked you on an actual date.. Would you say yes?”
You blinked, your mouth slightly agape from surprise.
Hues of red grew faintly at the sides of Michael's face, although he remained brave, continuing to meet your gaze headfirst.
You couldn't help but smile at his attempt not to look nervous.
“Yeah, I'd say yes,” you finally answered.
At this, he could physically feel his heartbeat in his ears, as if he could explode right then and there.
“Cool,” he managed to muster, his voice weary as he nodded before looking down at the moloch. “Cool,” he repeated.
laughing softly under your breath, you rose from your seat, Michael's eyes darting over to you as you stretched.
“I should go home now,” you announced, turning to him and his look of slight disappointment.
“Pick me up on Friday, okay?”
Had it been the heat? Michael couldn't even bring himself to breathe properly.
quickly, he gave a series of nods, watching as a sweet smile curled upon your lips before you turned to leave.
Michael would then look down at his open hands, where the sticky melted mess of his popsicle was all over, and he couldn't even feel it.
೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 — present | 1989
“That’s right,” Michael confirmed, “we were both reaching busy times of our careers… and the thought of us no longer being in contact frightened me, so I just.. you know, laid it all out,” he admitted sheepishly.
“If I asked you on a date, would you say yes?” The interviewer repeated before barking out a laugh, the live audience joining in.
playful offense took over michael features as he waves his hands. “I was nervous! stop that!”
the laughter subdued shortly after, the interviewer regaining their composure.
“So then Hollywood's most loved couple had begun to see each other in the summer of 1979, that’s a long time. You've kept it nicely under wraps.”
Michael smiled.
“but regarding the question I think everyone in America wants to know..” they begins, their voice dropping into a more serious tone.
“where is y/n?”
Michael's smile didn’t drop dramatically, but the warmth in it had slowly melted.
the interviewer continued. “she was an extraordinary actress, one who enveloped magic into any film she worked on.. but for the past two years, she’s been completely away from the public eye.”
“What’s the reason for this?”
Michael lowered his gaze, his fingers absentmindedly smoothing the crease of his slacks.
೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 — october of 1987
You had turned twenty-eight only weeks before.
The papers called it another golden year. Another award season. Another premiere. Another headline celebrating the woman who seemed to possess the world simply by stepping into it.
And somewhere beyond the cameras, beyond the velvet curtains and flashing bulbs, there had been a secret that belonged only to the two of you.
another life that existed only when nothing else was watching.
Three months.
Three months of whispered names spoken in the dark.
Three months of Michael running around in the middle of night to buy whatever it was you were craving.
three months of speaking of impossible things like tiny shoes, lullabies, and a room painted in soft colors.
Three months of allowing yourself to imagine a future that neither fame nor fortune had ever managed to give you.
And then, without warning, it was gone.
The house had never felt so large.
You sat on the cold hardwood floor with your knees drawn to your chest, fingers pressed against your mouth as though holding yourself together required physical effort.
It seemed wrong that the world continued moving—that telephones still rang, that cars still passed outside, that somewhere people laughed without knowing that yours had ended.
Michael knelt beside you, his arms wrapped around you with such desperation that it almost hurt. As though loosening his hold, even for a moment, would cause you to vanish entirely.
Your tears fell silently, frightening him the most.
The woman who the world knew to command entire theaters with a glance, who could bring audiences to tears with a single line, and could stand beneath lights and make thousands believe anything.
But here, beneath the dim glow of your bedroom, you looked impossibly small.
“Baby,” his voice trembled against your hair. “Look at me.”
His hand settled at the back of your neck, keeping you close enough to hear his uneven breathing.
“y/n” His voice softened when he said your name. “I got you.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there as though prayer alone could undo what had happened.
“I’ll take care of you.”
But the words didn’t land like comfort. They hung in the air because neither of you understood yet that grief is not something that leaves when promised enough love.
It would follow you quietly.
In every nursery window you passed.
In every question from reporters asking when you planned to start a family.
In the way your hands would eventually rest against your stomach without thinking, only for your breath to catch when you’d remember.
His arms stayed firm, anchoring you to him.
Michael lowered his head slightly, not fully collapsing into you, but close enough that the space between you no longer felt separate.
And even in his arms, even with him holding you as though he could keep the world from reaching you, something inside you had already gone still in a way you could not yet name.
It settled quietly.
And you stayed there, held, while the silence inside you deepened.
೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 — present | 1989
What could Michael have said?
The nights of him returning home late from rehearsals came in flashes although the space now hadn’t felt like a place to call home nor looked to be a space anyone had lived in, at all.
as you isolated yourself in the enclosure of your shared bedroom in the following days, it wouldn’t be weeks until the first time the two of you had dinner together again.
he could remember it vividly, the red stains and dark circles around your eyes that showed just how much you cried and wouldn't let yourself sleep—
these habits that lacked any respect for your body and mind, almost as if you were intentionally punishing yourself.
Michael wore a warm smile on his face that evening as he guided you to your seat at the table and served your food.
He had attempted to also create conversation, but you shut it down quickly and left back up to the bedroom with no more than a few bites of food.
your husband sat there for a few moments, soaking up your absence before he would put away your full plate food.
Then when night rolled around, he’d cautiously enter the bed with you already settled and your back to him appearing as if already asleep.
but you never were.
you’d stay up all night again, thinking— crying.
The hushed whines would also keep the man up, no matter how exhausted he was
and he’d listen, carefully, the tips of his fingers aching to reach for you.
But they wouldn’t.
Not anymore.
Michael adjusted his position in the chair once again, lifting his head to look at the interviewer, though his eyes remained distant.
The question circled through his mind once more.
Where is y/n?
In truth, Michael didn’t know whether he could still say that he knew you.
Your presence felt so far away, even while you lived beneath the same roof.
You, whom he barely exchanged sentences with through the long and dreadful hours of each passing day.
If Michael had been asked this question two years ago, he would have answered in a heartbeat.
But now, he didn’t have one.
His eyes flickered back to the ring on his fourth finger.
It had remained there since the day you exchanged vows.
Even through these years of distance, it had never left its rightful place.
Perhaps it was the only thing that had remained unchanged.
Michael didn’t know whether to feel grateful for that or sorrowful.
How had it become this way?
When had things gone wrong?
The both of you could feel the distance widening with each passing day, a gap that seemed impossible to cross. There were moments when it felt as though nothing would ever return to what it had once been—to the years when love had come so naturally, so openly.
Now, it existed only as a memory.
The sun would never feel quite that warm again, and the flowers would never look quite as beautiful.
Michael pressed his lips into a thin line before finally speaking.
“She worked very hard for a very long time,” he began quietly.
“People see the premieres and the awards and all those things, but they don’t always see how hard somebody works.
He smiled softly.
“I think she’s earned some rest.”
The interviewer nodded. “Do you think she’ll return to acting?”
Just look at him, he's fucking perfect, I want to ruin him. Not only does he have a gorgeous angel face, but that's how he hides his indecency. babeeeee, Thriller!era HOLY SHITTTTT, the boyfriend material who wants to fuck you at all costs, who can't take his eyes off you. fuckkkk, his eyes on your ass, your tits, all over you. His big, long fingers catch every edge of your body. He doesn't even care about scratching you a little or leaving his fingerprints on your skin. And when you're finally alone, fuck, this guy loves to show you when he likes you. And I mean, obviously this angel face is versatile, I mean... I'm screaming internally. 😩
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
If you don’t like the terms of endearment people use in the stories they write you are more than welcome to write your own… or shut the fuck up. “Mama” has been used as a term of endearment since the 70’s, you know one of the decades Michael Jackson was popular…
How you gonna ask writers to stop using it and then use it in your argument as to why it shouldn’t be used? I’m starting to feel like some of yall are not like us…..
kaledo-art
janainaart
annaxmalina
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
romaincrisis
germansingergirl
