Laylawrites

Michael is your first boyfriend, and to say you’ve been overthinking everything you’ve been doing in the relationship is an understatement. More-so when it came to intimacy, how you two don’t share the same knowledge on it.

Your friends hasn’t failed to constantly remind you how lucky you are to have a boyfriend who doesn’t mind going at your pace, not one complaint leaving his mouth when makeouts don’t go further, because if you’re satisfied with it, it’s more than enough for him.

Yet that doesn’t mean you don’t have thoughts to take it one more step, urges even. Your shy nature getting in the way of your hunger is beyond frustrating, and tonight is a great example of it.

You take your hands somewhere they haven’t been, dipping fingertips inside his pants to lightly tug. You speak before he had the chance to raise a questioning brow.

“Please, I—“ You swallow, ignoring how hot your face already is, or your brain screaming to you you’re not ready when that’s not how your heart is feeling. “I need you.”

The silence that follows is thick, hearing every distant chatter outside the mobile van, every rise of each other’s chest to breathe. You almost pondered if you mistakenly said it in your head and should repeat, until you felt warm hands grab ahold of yours.

His thumbs swipe across your knuckles gently, eyes searching in yours for any hesitancy. “Are you sure?”

You nod, reassuring by leaning in for another kiss. His hands push against your shoulders for your back to hit the cushions of the couch, breaking the kiss to leave small nips into the heated skin of your neck.

You gasp at the new sensation, lolling your head to the side to give him more skin to paint as many hickeys as he wants. How long you forced yourself to deprive any affection that go past kisses from him, you’re convinced he could make you come just from this alone.

You focused so much on the softness of his lips on your sensitive skin that you failed to remember when he started to take off your jeans, now left in your panties that are embarrassingly soaked too soon for your liking.

“You’ll tell me if you change your mind about this, right?”

You were fearing that would happen in the next couple minutes, but with the way he starts to slip his hand under the damp fabric for that first push of his fingertip to your entrance, you can barely see that happening anymore.

Your muscles tighten, the rest of his digit sinking, can’t help but clench around just the smallest part of him inside you.

“God, you’re so tight… I can’t imagine how you’ll take me.” He murmurs, doing a slow agonizing flex of his finger inside. He watches every uneven, ragged breath leave you, every sharp pulse being sent to you when he nestles deeper, not wanting to miss any discomfort your face might make.

Your body flutters around him, gasping at a second finger prodding to enter alongside with the one already in. He brings a hand to cup the side of your cheek, sprinkling kisses on all around your face. “Talk to me, ma. Is this still okay? How’re you feeling?”

Bless him for continuing to check in to see if you still want this, for you had your eyes squeezed shut since this started. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down to see his hand between your legs, pulling such lewd noises from you that makes you want to hide your face into the crevice of the couch.

Your walls begin to welcome each slow pump of his finger, which has you buck your hips up to brush against his hardening bulge, thinking you’re ready. “Yes, I’m okay— just—“

Your sentence dies as you feel his free hand get ahold of your hip, putting a stop to your desperate grinds. “Impatient, are we?”

He huffs out a giggle from your pout, seeing you not understand why he’s dragging this on the night you’re finally willing to take things to a next level. “Sweet girl, you’ll regret me not stretching you out first before taking me. I know you want it, and you’ll have it, but trust me for right now.”

And with that, he sinks a second finger in, pushing in as deep as it can go. They still for a long moment, letting you adjust, letting the heat coil heavier inside of you.

Every slow drag is calculated, rhythm perfect and precise, making sure your body has no choice but to open up for him. Your body jerks from a particular sharp stroke, a wrecked gasp leaving you, your stomach beginning to tighten. You were expecting to be met with pure bliss a few seconds later, but he retracts his fingers back, glistening in the light from your slick.

Your stomach does a flip at the sight of him bringing the two fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while holding your overwhelmed gaze. “You’ve been hiding this sweet taste from me for this long?”

He knew you wouldn’t respond, too busy covering half of your face that’s been burning up each second. He fumbles with the fastenings of his pants, dragging them halfway down until he’s bare for you to admire.

Your mouth nearly goes dry at the sight, how heavy his cock sits between his legs. You feel your cunt begin to clench around nothing, the anticipation overbearing.

As if he could hear your worries, he leans down to press a small peck to the corner of your lips. “It’ll fit, I promise.”

You hold onto his forearms as he lets you feel the weight of it first, heated head of his cock dragging slowly across your clit. Your breathing shatters, his grip on your hips tightening as he drags himself across again, coating his cock in your wetness with each glide.

Your thighs tremble from every teasing press, gasping each time it swipes past your entrance. You sense how he’s waiting for your permission, working you up until you don’t have a choice but to plead for it.

“My baby looks eager to take me. Is that what you want?”

You think your broken mewl is sufficient for an answer, but Michael doesn’t agree. He tilts your chin down, thumb brushing against your lower lip to coax out a response.

“Y-Yes, I want it.”

You’re thankful Michael isn’t mean enough to have you repeat yourself a bit louder, your words followed by the first slow, shallow push.

He pulls out, to have you feel the loss for a cold second, and then pushes in deeper this time. The stretch burns, fills, overwhelms every inch of your body. It’s nothing like his fingers at all, embarrassed from the ounce of confidence you held a few minutes ago that you could handle what he carried.

He holds his own ragged breaths and groans to hear yours instead, to not miss out on any discomfort you might show. After each push, he’ll let you adjust around the length, then roll another inch of his cock.

His hips then flush to yours, the fullness hitting you like a punch to the lungs. Warm hands grab ahold of yours to remove them from your face, peppering kisses to the knuckles. “Don’t get shy on me, ma. Need you to watch how well you’re taking me.”

He doesn’t let go of your wrists, bringing them to rest against his chest. A helpless noise escapes you as you bring your eyes down, watching the way his cock disappears after every steady thrust. The quick brush of his pubic bone to your clit sends jolts through you, mouth falling open around a silent gasp at the added pleasure.

He moves with perfect control, cock sinking into you with dizzying precision. You feel your orgasm crawling up from behind, how sharper it feels than what you get given whenever you get needy all alone with your own hand between your legs.

His is right around the corner as well, another deep thrust, holding for just a second before pulling back again. You couldn’t stop the plea you spilled, body melting, hips continuing to snap forward to push you further, higher, closer.

“That’s it, let go f’ame. You’re doing so good—fuck— squeezing me so tight like you can’t get enough.”

You let your orgasm rip through you, breath hitching so sharply it feels like your lungs forgot how to work. It cuts through you like a blade, setting fire to everything inside of you. You let out a silent cry that catches in your throat, back arching as the tension finally snaps. He doesn’t miss the way you fall apart, the way your eyes flutter, the way your whole body clenches around him like it’s trying to keep him there forever.

Which what has him break, hips stuttering once, twice — and then he pulls out in one swift slide, bunching up your shirt to spill all over the expanse of your stomach.

You both share heavy breaths, pupils blown wide. He lets his forehead rest against yours, the world narrowing to the press of his body against yours, wishing this moment doesn’t have an end. You swipe a bead of sweat off the side of his jaw, now holding the side of his face like you can’t bear to be apart from him.

Before he could ask once again if you’re okay, your lips find his. You feel the slow, wet press of his tongue, head tilting to deepen the sensational kiss.

૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝒌𝒂𝒊': first ever long fic damnnnn to my long fic writers THIS IS THE WORST PAIN. so please LET ME KNOW (I'm begging yall.) if this was good! feedback & comments & reblogs IS ALWAYS appreciated. don't be scared to comment <33 ily.

𝟭 𝗮𝗺. 𝗛𝗮𝘆𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝟭𝟵𝟳𝟴.

𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍’𝒔 hand slid up to cup you jaw, thumb brushing softly over your cheek as he pulled you closer.

His lips met yours again, deeper this time, tongue teasing yours as he kissed like he’d been dreaming of this for years. You gasped softly into the kiss and your tug on his soft hair.

Eyes wide, full of longing and need, you whispered, "I need you, mike..." The words made him pause just long enough to glance down at you, chest heaving, a mixture of disbelief and desire in his eyes.

Your big eyes staring up at him, lips already swollen from his kisses, seemed to pull him in further.

He kissed you again, slower, savoring you, before his lips trailed to the side of your neck, his hand still gently cradling your jaw, teasing just enough to make you tremble.

Heat pooled low in your belly, and though nothing else had happened yet, every touch and kiss was enough to make it feel like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, eyes dark. His voice dropped low, rough with desire. "C-can I touch you?"

you swallowed hard and whispered, breathless, "Please..angel please..." His hand slid further under your shirt, fingers brushing over the soft curve of your breast through your bra. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and he immediately kissed you again.

slower and deeper this time. His mouth is warm and sure, hands trailing along your waist, slipping beneath your sleep dress to touch your bare skin.

His lips move to your neck, dragging along the sensitive skin just below your jaw. "you smell so heavenly...baby," he murmurs, voice sweet and innocent.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders. And when he slips a hand beneath your sleep dress, eyes locked on yours, his sweet voice drops to a whisper that sends shivers straight to your core,

"Let me make you feel good, yeah? but y' gotta be real quiet f'me okay?" His fingers slip, sliding over your panties and the moment he feels the dampness there, he lets out a low groan.

"F-Fuck, lovely." he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours for a beat. "already wet f'me?"

You nod shakily, unable to speak, hips twitching as he rubs slow, deliberate circles over your clothed slit. The pressure of his fingers through the thin fabric has you gasping, legs parting on instinct.

then he presses a little harder, and your breath hitches, your body arching into his hand with a quiet, needy whimper. Michael smiles against your neck, voice low and sweet. "Sound so sweet f’me, baby."

You shiver as his hands slide up your legs, thumbs brushing gently along your inner thighs. Then he leans in close, until his breath is hot and heavy right against your dripping cunt.

He doesn’t touch you yet. Just breathes. Watches. Fingers going up and down your slick folds as you writhe under him, desperate and aching. "Look at you," he murmurs, completely entranced.

His thumb swipes gently through your wetness. "My sweet beautiful girl." You bite your lip, a whimper slipping from your throat. "Shhh baby, we don't wanna wake the others up don't we?"

then, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, soft and lingering, before sliding his tongue slowly up your slit, groaning low against you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted.

The moment his tongue touches you, it’s over. He moans and whimpers low against your pussy like he’s tasting something he’s been craving for years.

He starts slow, teasing licks through your folds, lips wrapping around your clit just enough to make your whole body jolt. And then he does it again. And again. Each time a little rougher. A little wetter.

A little more desperate. "Fuuuck," he groans into you, hands gripping your thighs, keeping you open for him. "You taste so good, so good baby."

You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, hips lifting off the bed as he sucks your clit into his mouth. It’s messy, and dirty, the sounds of him licking you echoing through the room, wet and filthy and perfect.

Then suddenly, he’s slipping two fingers back inside you pushing in deep, curling them up in just the right way, and your moan breaks into a whimper. "Ngh—Michael—!" he groans again, like your voice alone is enough to make him lose it. Then he adds a third finger.

Your back arches, legs trembling as he fucks them into your soaked cunt fast and deep, his palm smacking softly against your skin with every thrust. His mouth never leaves your clit tongue flicking, sucking, devouring like it’s the only thing that matters.

"Let go, my sweet girl," he mumbles against you. "Wanna feel you." You’re already so close.

you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t stop yourself from grinding against his face like your body’s got a mind of its own. The pressure snaps.

you cry out, thighs clenching around his head as your orgasm crashes into you. Your fingers tug at his hair, your hips jerk, your moans breaking into soft, high pitched whines as you fall apart in his mouth. But Michael doesn’t stop.

He keeps licking. Keeps fucking his fingers into you like he wants to memorize the way you cum.

And when you finally start to go still, trembling and breathless beneath him, he pulls back just enough to kiss your inner thigh, lips swollen, chin glistening with your slick.

He crawls back up your body, kissing a trail from your trembling thighs to your stomach, over your chest, leaving warm, messy kisses across your skin before finally reaching your mouth.

He kisses you hard. Hungry, deep, desperate, his lips still slick from tasting you, his tongue dragging over yours like he needs more of you in every way.

You can feel how hard he is now, pressed between your thighs. It’s driving you crazy every movement, every breath just making it worse. Still kissing you, he breaks just long enough to whisper, breathless, "n-need to be inside you, baby. Can’t wait no more." You nod, dazed, still catching your breath.

michael shifts back, and in one smooth motion, he pushes his shorts and boxers down, finally freeing his cock.

You can’t help the soft gasp that leaves your lips, and Michael smirks through heavy breaths. He leans down again to kiss you, while his hand slides up your thigh.

Then suddenly, he grabs one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder. His other hand cups your breast, fingers squeezing, thumb brushing softly over your nipple as he lines himself up.

"Look at me..please baby." he murmurs, voice low and thick with heat. You do. And then he slides in.

Slow at first, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep inside you, your walls fluttering around him. You moan his name, back arching off the bed.

Michael’s jaw clenches, his hand tightening on your thigh. "F-Fuck, lovely…"

he groans, eyes fluttering shut for a second. "You feel—so good—fuck."

His hips start to move, deep, rolling thrusts that drag every inch of him along your soaked walls. He keeps your leg hooked over his shoulder, the angle letting him hit every sweet spot, his other hand still cupping your breast like he can’t get enough.

"So perfect…so tight for me—fuck!" he pants, voice all praise and heat. You moan louder, nails digging into his arms as he starts to pick up the pace,

hips slapping against yours, breath hot and ragged, all while he keeps watching your face like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Michael's rhythm starts to falter, his hips snapping faster, rougher, his breathing growing messier with each thrust.

His brows are furrowed and lips parted.

"Oh my goodness—shit baby," he moans, head dropping forward.

"Y-you feel so f-fucking good, baby—s-shit, you’re so tight—oh fuckk—" The way he says it, so breathless, whimpering, makes your whole body react.

Your walls clench down around him instinctively, squeezing him hard, and it pulls another choked moan straight from his throat. His voice breaks again.

"Ohhh f-fuck—just like that—my s-sweet g-girl.. shit—" He sounds so good. Ruined. Wrecked.

Like he’s completely unraveling inside you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, gasping for air, thighs trembling as he pounds into you deep and fast, hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.

Then he brings his hand down, finding your clit like he knows exactly what you need.

His fingers are messy, fast, rubbing tight circles in sync with his thrusts. You cry out, arching under him, clutching at his biceps as he holds himself over you and keeps fucking you through it.

"Yess m-mikey—!" you sob, voice high and desperate. He groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

"That’s it, sweet girl," he pants, kissing your jaw, your neck. "C-come on—cum for me again—please, I need to feel it—need to feel you fall apart on me."

You’re so close, your legs starting to shake, your fingers gripping him like a lifeline, your moans breaking into breathless little whimpers.

And all you can hear is him—moaning, gasping, whimpering, praising you like he’s gone completely stupid from how good you feel.

Your whole body locks up as that final wave crashes over you—tight and hot and overwhelming.

You cry out his name, legs shaking, back arching as you cum hard around him, fluttering and pulsing deep on his cock.

michael chokes on a moan—high, broken, wrecked. "fuuuck—so good—so fucking good, baby—"

He doesn't pull out in time, gritting his teeth through a loud, desperate groan as he grinds a little harder and spills in, all in your pussy, sticky and thick ropes of cum painting your skin while his hips twitch and his breath catches in short.

He collapses forward slightly, chest rising and falling, eyes still glazed with pleasure. Then his gaze drops down, seeing the mess he made of you, and he groans again, softer this time, like it’s too much to handle. "Shit,"

he breathes. "you’re so fucking perfect…" He leans in and kisses you slow and warm.

his hand brushes your cheek before moving to the nightstand, grabbing some tissue from a pack you kept there. "I got you." he murmurs.

you hum softly as he wipes you clean—gentle, patient, still pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, your shoulder, anywhere his mouth can reach.

And when he’s done, he tosses the tissues aside and crawls back into bed, settling in beside you. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his chest like he has to keep you close.

You feel his breath in your hair, slow and steady now. His hands finds your waist, his thumb stroking lazily over your skin.

Then he whispers, barely audible in the dark,

"I’m sorry..i'll clean you up better tomorrow yeah? Joseph and the rest are here..so there's not much I can do baby..."

You kiss him back sleepy. "It's okay angelface..you made me feel really..really good."

the room was dark and quiet.

Michael was already asleep beside you, one arm lazily draped across your waist, his breathing slow and steady.

for a moment, you let yourself pretend, pretend you weren't hiding, pretend there wasn't a ring tucked away where nobody could find it, pretend everything was okay.

Then your stomach hurt. You immediately sat up. a sharp wave of nausea hitting you out of nowhere.

Your hand flew to your mouth. "Oh goodness." The movement woke Michael instantly.

He was always like that. Light sleeper. The second you moved, he was awake. "lovely?" His voice was rough from sleep.

You pushed yourself off the bed. "Bathroom." He still doesn't understand what's going on. "Y'okay?"

No.

You weren't. You practically stumbled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. the nausea passed after a few minutes, but the panic did stay... because this wasn't the first time.

Suddenly all you could hear was your own heartbeat, Michael's face, The secret engagement ring and...Joe. Joe. Joe.

you leaned against the sink, trying to breathe, trying not to think. Because if you thought about it too hard...you'd start crying.

a soft knock.

"pretty baby?"

Michael. You closed your eyes. "I'm okay angel."

lie.

Because Michael knew you.The door opened a crack.Then he stepped inside. Concern written all over his face. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing baby..don't worry." Immediately —"Nah." His hand found yours. Cold fingers wrapping around cold fingers.

"Baby, What happened?" And that was all it took. Your eyes filled immediately. Michael's expression changed. "n-no." His voice dropped.

"What is it my baby? please..talk t'me baby...did I hurt you while we were makin' love?"

You couldn't even look at him, saying it out loud would make it real. "I think..." Your voice cracked. And suddenly you were crying. "I think I might be pregnant.." It was Completely silence.

Michael froze. For like one horrible second. Then again. You couldn't read his face. Then your chest hurt. "Mike...say something." His eyes finally lifted.

And fuck. He looked terrified. Just as terrified as you felt, i mean hello?....Secretly engaged. Living under the shadow of everybody else's opinions.

And now maybe—Maybe a baby.

A shaky breath left him.You watched him process it, the panic, fear and reality.

Then his hand squeezed yours tighter. not letting go. "Okay beautiful." You stared. "What?"

His voice wasn't steady...Not at all. But he kept talking anyway. "Okay."

"Michael—"

"W-we don't even know yet." His eyes were shiny now. "You hear me lovely?" You nodded.

"We don't know." Another squeeze. "But if y' are..." His voice cracked.

And for the first time all night he looked every bit as young as he actually was. Just a scared young adult.

"If y' are baby...wow." He swallowed hard. "We'll figure it out. 'kay?" Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.

Because that wasn't the problem, the baby wasn't even the problem. The problem was everything around it.

Joe.

all the pressure,The expectations, The way people already looked at you. Like you didn't belong. Like you were getting in the way.

Michael knew exactly what you were thinking.

Because he looked away. Jaw tightening.

"You talked to my Joseph again, didn't y'?" The question wasn't really a question.

You just stayed silent, and that was enough. Michael closed his eyes. Immediately understanding and angry. not at you, Michael was never mad at you.

At him. "What'd he say?" You shook your head. "Forget it."

"Beloved, talk t'me, What did that bastard say?" The hurt in your expression answered before you could.

And suddenly Michael looked sick. Because he already knew. He knew exactly what kind of things Joe said.

"He..thinks I ruined you.." The words came out before you could stop them. Michael's face darkened instantly. "He said that?" You looked down.

"He thinks I'm a problem." Michael couldn't believe it. "Baby, fuck... y'know you ain't the problem right?" The response came quickly.

"That fucking bustard, how dare he...fuck. i'm so mad.."

"M-michael, it's okay..you know how Joe is."

"I don’t care, he can not talk to my woman like that." His voice shook.

"You are not my problem." Tears slipped down your face. And that made him look even more upset, he hated when you cried.

Especially over things other people put in your head. Michael stepped closer. Both hands finding your face. Making you look at him.

"My Pretty baby, don't cry..listen to me okay?"

You could hear the emotion in his voice now. "I chose y'." Your breath caught. "I chose y'." He said it again.

like, he needed you to understand. he needed himself to understand. "They didn't choose y'...i did."

The bathroom felt too small for all the emotions trapped inside it.

Everything all tangled together. Michael looked down at your hand. At the hidden ring. Then back at you. You cried so hard.

The second your voice cracked in that bathroom—too loud, you already knew what was coming.

You just didn’t want to believe it. Michael was still in front of you, hands on your face, breathing uneven, trying to keep you steady like he always did when everything was falling apart.

But then—Footsteps. Down the hallway.

Both of you froze. Michael didn’t even have to look.His jaw tightened instantly. "No." You barely breathed it.

"Michael…" The knock came anyway. not soft also asking...a warning. Then the door opened.

Joe. He didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was already angry. His eyes moved first to you. Then to Michael. Then to the bathroom.

"Why the hell is there yelling in my house at this hour?"

Michael stepped slightly in front of you without even thinking. Protective. "Go back to your room."

Joe’s eyes narrowed. "I asked a question."

Michael didn’t move. "Leave." That one word changed the air. Joe walked in anyway. Joe Jackson didn’t ask permission in his own house.

His gaze landed on you again. Longer this time.

"Still here," he muttered. like you were something that had overstayed its welcome.

Your stomach dropped. Michael felt it.You could tell by the way his hand clenched slightly at his side.

"You don’t talk about her like that." Joe let out a short laugh. "Oh, I don’t?" A step closer.

"Then what the hell do you call it, Michael? Sneaking her into my house like this? Acting like I don’t see what she’s doing to you?" Michael’s breathing changed.

"She’s my fiancée." The word hit the room like a gunshot. Joe’s expression didn’t change at first. Then it hardened. "Your what?" Michael didn’t look away.

"Fiancée." You felt your blood run cold.

Because that wasn’t supposed to be said..not like this, not here.

© KAIOMII. ‎‎‎ ❤︎ all rights reserved. all works are a work of fiction. do not copy.