myiah

michael jackson → series, drabbles, & one shots

series ⤵︎

back before the world changed (1)

the summer debutante (1)

the summer debutante (2)

to be continued

drabbles ⤵︎

in the headlines

one more picture

poolside exposures

not enough

to be continued

one shots ⤵︎

you were scared, weren’t you?

charity night

a familiar stranger

to be continued

contents: suggestive, sneaking around.

summary: just short headcanons of michael sneaking around with you

𑣲. before a concert one night, you hid behind a curtain backstage while the crew moved equipment just feet away. michael’s fingers traced your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies touched. a soft gasp escaped from you when his lips brushed against your neck. you spent the whole time trying to stay quiet.

𑣲. one night hayvenhurst was dark and far from empty when he slipped you inside of his bedroom. he guided you to his bed, his breath warm against your ear as he kissed you deeply. “stay quiet,” he murmured, even as his hands wandered lower.

𑣲. the hallway was quiet except for the soft creaking of the floorboards under your feet. michael tugged you into an empty room pressing you back against the door with a quick kiss. “we shouldn’t be doing this here,” you whispered. “i know, baby. that’s the fun of it.” he said as his hands were already sliding under your shirt.

𑣲. in the shadows of the recording studio after hours, michael pulled you onto his lap in the chair. your lips met in a heated rush, your bodies shifting closer with every second. the footsteps outside echoed, forcing you to freeze mid kiss.

𑣲. during the time you and michael would spend with his brothers, after a while you would head to the kitchen for more snacks. michael would follow you shortly after. leading to him pining you up on the counter, standing between your legs as he planted wet open mouthed kisses down your neck.

𑣲. you hid in a closet at a crowded afterparty, michael’s jacket draped over both of you to muffle any sound. his hands roamed under your clothes, fingers teasing at sensitive skin while you tried not to moan. someone called his name from the hallway, making the short time come to an end. “we’re never gonna have alone time.” michael groaned as you laughed.

𑣲. backstage at the arena, michael took you to a supply room filled with spare cases and cables. he kissed you hard against the wall, one hand gripping your hip as the other hand moved to your jeans. “need you,” he murmured. “so bad.” you knew it was risky, but you didn’t stop.

𑣲. the hotel corridor was empty when you two met in secret, michael brought you into his suit. your clothes came off in a hurry, bodies pressed together on the bed with an urgent need. a knock at the door made you scramble to cover up, sending your hearts racing.

𑣲. during a rehearsal break, you found yourself on a couch in a room with michael. he kissed all over your neck while his fingers slipped between your legs, drawing out soft whimpers. you bit your lip to keep quiet as voices passed by outside.

.ᐟcontents: smut, established relationship, romantic tension, pet names (pretty, baby).

.ᐟsummary: you’ve never had a reason not to trust michael. so when he asks if he can try something different on you, saying yes comes naturally. what you didn’t expect was everything that followed.

i’m working on a taglist!! lmk if you’d like to be added to it.

“c’mon pretty. you gotta hear me out on this.” you looked over at michael, already knowing where this was going. it wasn’t the first time tonight he’d tried to convincing you, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

he had a habit of never asking for something directly, always finding some way to charm his way around the question until you agreed to it.

“michael, i don’t understand.” you sighed, placing your magazine on the nightstand as you gave him a confused look. “you keep bringing this up , but you refuse to actually tell me what you’re talking about.”

he let out a quiet laugh, looking entirely too amused by your confusion. “relax, pretty. i promise you’ll like it.” that somehow made you even more suspicious.

whenever michael said something like that, it usually meant he had already thought everything through. “i’ve been thinking ‘bout something…” he started again, voice low as if he was testing the waters.

his fingers traced patterns on the blanket between you, never quite reaching you but close enough that you felt the warmth of him anyway. you watched him for a long moment, waiting, but he didn't rush. he never did when he wanted something this badly.

“like what?” you asked, trying to sound calm even though your stomach had started doing that never flip it always did when he looked at you like that. like he had all the time in the world to wear you down.

michael moved slightly on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. his eyes stayed on yours, the kind of look that made it hard to hold onto any kind of suspicion. "just something i've been wanting to do for you," he said, almost shy himself now.

"something that'd feel real good, if you'd let me." you frowned a little, still not catching on. “michael, you’re not making any sense.” he smiled at that, like your confusion was the cutest thing he’d seen all day. “i know. i’m not trying to confuse you. just… trying to figure out how to say it.”

his hand found yours, thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. “you trust me, right?” you nodded before you could stop yourself. of course you trusted him. he was michael. the one who always made sure you were comfortable, who never pushed too hard, who waited until you were ready for everything.

“good,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your palm. “because i wanna try something different. something that would make you feel really close to me.” your breath caught a little at the softness in his voice, but you still weren’t sure what he meant.

heat crept up your neck anyway. “oh,” was all you managed. michael watched your reaction, his thumb moving in those slow, soothing circles. “hey. it’s okay,” he said softly “we don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just… i’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“how i could take my time with you, no rush, just me and you and whatever feels good.” you swallowed hard, fingers tightening around his without meaning to. the idea was still unclear, but the way he spoke made your thighs press together on instinct. “i’ve never… no one’s ever…” you whispered.

"i know," he said, voice even gentler now. "that's why i want to be the one. i want to show you how good it can feel. how safe it can be." he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, then another to the corner of your mouth. "you don't have to decide right now. but if you let me, i'll go slow. i promise.”

the room felt warmer suddenly. your heart was beating too loud in your ears. michael stayed close, patient as ever, waiting for you to find your words. his free hand rested lightly on your knee, not pushing, just there. a question without pressure.

you bit your lip, looking down at where his fingers were still linked with yours. “you really want to?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “more than anything,” he answered. “but only if you want to. silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with everything unsaid. then, you nodded slowly.

michael’s smile was soft and bright all at once. he didn’t gloat or rush. he just leaned in and kissed you again, slower this time, like he was savoring the yes. “thank you, baby,” he murmured against your lips. “i’ll take care of you. every second of it.” his hand slid a little higher on your thigh, still asking.

you felt yourself relax into the touch despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. michael noticed, of course he did, and he pressed another kiss to your jaw, then lower, to the spot just beneath your ear that always made you shiver. "lie back for me," he whispered. "let me show you."

the mattress creaked softly as you eased onto your back, the blanket bunching beneath you. michael hovered above, his warm brown eyes never leaving yours. he moved some of your hair from your forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down to kiss you again, slow and tender.

his hand slid down your side, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist through the thin cotton of your nightdress. "so beautiful f’me" he murmured against your mouth, voice low and full of affection. "just relax. i got you." he kissed a path down your throat.

his fingers found the buttons at the front of your nightdress and worked them open one by one, each movement careful and slow. when the fabric parted, he paused to press a kiss to the center of your chest. “tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?”

you nodded, breath catching as he continued downward. michael shifted lower on the bed, settling between your thighs with a quiet exhale. he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and eased them down your legs, setting them aside with the same gentle care.

his palms smoothed up the insides of your thighs, thumbs stroking soothing circles. “look at you,” he said softly, almost reverent. “so pretty. so sweet.” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the soft skin above your knee, then another a little higher.

each kiss moved closer, until his breath warmed the most sensitive part of you. “i’m gonna take my time.” he whispered, as he dove in. his tongue traced a slow, deliberate line along your folds, tasting you with a quiet hum of approval. one hand stayed on your thigh, holding you open, while the other rested lightly on your stomach.

he licked again, slower this time, focusing on the spot that made your hips twitch. "does that feel nice?" he asked, voice muffled but warm. "tell me what you like." you managed a soft sound of encouragement, fingers threading into his hair. michael smiled against you and continued.

his tongue moved in steady, patient strokes circling and flicking with just enough pressure to build a sweet ache. every so often he would pause to kiss the inside of your thigh or murmur something soft like, "you taste so good," or "i love hearing those little sounds you make."

he kept his rhythm easy, watching the way your body responded. when your breathing grew quicker, he adjusted, pressing his tongue more firmly and holding it there for a moment before resuming the gentle licking.

his fingers stroked your thigh in time with his mouth, grounding you. "you’re doing so well," he whispered between licks. "just let go when you’re ready. i’m right here." the pleasure building gradually, warm and steady, until it peaked in a slow, rolling wave.

your thighs trembled around his shoulders and a soft cry slipped from your lips. michael stayed with you through it, easing you down with lighter, slower licks until the aftershocks faded. only then did he lift his head, lips glistening, eyes bright with quiet pride and affection.

he crawled back up beside you, pulling you into his arms. you buried your face against his chest, still catching your breath, and a small laugh bubbled out of you. "you did a good job," you told him, voice light and teasing.

michael chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "yeah? i was hoping you’d say that." he gave you a gentle squeeze, both of you dissolving into quiet laughter that filled the small bedroom. "c’mere, i wanna hold you for a little bit longer.”

.ᐟcontents: angst, little suggestive content, michael makes it up to you, happy ending implied.

.ᐟsummary: michael begins to question if he’s enough for you. when the discussion becomes an argument, he tries to make it up to you.

usually, when you and michael spent late nights together in the studio, it was never quiet for long. he’d ask for your opinion on a new melody, ramble about ideas he had for the future, or excitedly explain something he couldn’t wait to bring to life.

tonight was different. the studio had been unusually quiet, the only sound being the faint hum equipment and the rustling of the newspaper in michael’s hands. you watched from across the room as his expression slowly changed.

his eyes scanned over the headlines, with a look you weren’t used to seeing. “don’t you read these headlines?” michael asked, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. you looked up from where you sat, your brows knitting together. “not really.”

he let out a quiet sigh, dropping the magazine onto the table. “it’s always something,” he shook his head. “every week there’s another story. another rumor.” his eyes flickered back to the page. “i don’t even know where they get this from.”

you frowned. “why do you even read them?” he looked up at you. “because they’re everywhere.” he answered almost immediately. “i can’t escape ‘em.” he picked the magazine back up, his thumb absentmindedly flipping pages before stopping on another article.

“look at this one.” you moved closer, glancing down at the page. another bold headline stared back at you. ‘insiders say she’s growing tired of his schedule.’ your eyebrows pinched together. “they’re ridiculous. you know that.”

“are they?” he asked quietly. you looked up. his eyes never left the page. “they all say the same thing.” he laughed under his breath, though it lacked real humor. “that you’re eventually gonna get tired of waiting on me.”

you folded your arms across your chest. “and you believe them?” he couldn’t even look at you. “i don’t know.” he admitted after a long pause. “sometimes…” he closed the magazine, letting it fall onto the table with a dull thud. “sometimes i think they’re right.”

you sighed, bringing a hand to your temple. “michael, don’t say that.” your voice strained slightly. “if i’m still here, why would i be tired?” he stayed quiet for too long, his eyes finding the magazine on the table again. “you shouldn’t have to wait around for me.”

you frowned. “what?” he finally looked at you. “i think you deserve better.” he said it so suddenly, so calmly, that for a second you weren’t even sure if you heard him right. “better than what?” michael looked away. “better than someone who’s always busy. someone who can give you what you need.”

you stared at him for a moment, almost waiting for him to take the words back. “michael…” he looked away. “i’m serious.” the frustration you felt wasn’t because he was upset. it was because the way he said it was like he’d already made that decision for you.

“you don’t get to decide what i need.” his eyes lifted back to yours. “i’m just trying to be realistic.” you shook your head letting out a quiet breath. “no, you’re trying to convince yourself that i’m going to leave.” the room fell silent. michael didn’t try to argue, and that hurt more.

he looked down, his voice quieter when he finally spoke. “i just know what this life does to people.” he glanced around the studio, at the unfinished songs, and the scattered papers. “i know how much it takes from me.” his expression softened. “and i don’t want to take something from you too.”

you stared at him, your chest tightening. you didn’t even know what to say. not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you couldn’t believe he actually meant it. “i can’t believe you’re listening to them.”

michael’s expression shifted. “what?” you gestured between you. “the headlines. the people who don’t know anything about you.” your voice grew heavier with every word. “you’re letting strangers convince you that they know what’s best for us.”

he looked away. “that’s not what i’m doing.” “isn’t it?” the room went quiet. “you’re sitting here telling me that i deserve better, like i haven’t spent all this time choosing you.” he rubbed hand over his face, letting out a tired sigh. “i’m only trying to be realistic.”

“realistic?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “no, michael. you’re letting a bunch of strangers tell you what our relationship is supposed to look like.” his jaw clenched. “you think i want to believe them?”

his voice had raised the first time that night. “you think i enjoy reading this stuff?” he picked the magazine back up, holding it out before letting it fall onto the table again. “it’s everywhere. every headline, every article. they’re all saying the same thing.”

he looked back at you, his expression somewhere between frustration and defeat. “after a while, you start wondering if maybe they’re right.” the room suddenly started to feel cold, and neither of you spoke.

you let out a shaky breath, rubbing your forehead before reaching for your bag. “i think i should go.” michael’s head snapped up. “what?” you didn’t plan on stopping. “i just…” you swallowed. “i can’t do this right now.”

you slung your bag onto your shoulder, turning towards the studio door. “wait.” his voice wasn’t loud. if anything, it was quieter than before. you stopped, your hand hovering over the doorknob. “please.”

you closed your eyes for a brief moment before turning around. michael stood up. “i didn’t mean it like that,” he said quietly. “i wasn’t trying to end this.” his eyes searched yours. “i promise, that’s not what i meant.” you didn’t say anything. he took a hesitant step closer.

“i wasn’t saying i don’t want you.” he shook his head. “it’s exactly the opposite.” his voice caught in his throat. “i want you so much that…” he sighed, looking down for a moment. “i’m terrified i’m never going to be enough for you.”

he took another step. “and i know that doesn’t make what i said okay.” his shoulders fell. “i just got in my own head.” “i let those headlines convince me that maybe…” he paused, swallowing hard. “…maybe you’d be better off without me, and i’m sorry.”

you went quiet, looking at him like you were trying to understand how he could ever believe that. “michael…” your voice softened. “i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” the tension between you lingered as michael stepped closer until his body was inches from yours.

his hands liften slowly, fingers brushing your wrist before guiding it gently above your head against the door. it wasn’t forceful, just enough to hold you there. the way he paused, asking you a silent question, waiting for any sign to stop. “can i kiss you?” he whispers, voice low and unsteady with everything he hadn’t said.

his free hand resting at your waist, his thumb tracing a slow circle near the hem of your shirt. you nodded, and he leaned in. the kiss was soft at first, almost careful, hid lips moved against like he was cherishing the moment. then it deepened, his tongue brushed yours in a slow, intentional stroke.

heat built between you as his body pressed closer, you felt the hard line of him against your thigh. his fingers tightened just slightly on your wrist, not trapping you, while his other hand slid down to grip your him, pulling you against him. he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

his breath was ragged. “i want to make this right,” he murmured, lips gazing his jaw. “let me show you.” after that night, michael never questioned your love for him again. because every time he looked at you, he was reminded that you weren’t there because you had to be, you were there because you loved him.

a familiar stranger

thriller!eramichael! x black!femreader!

.ᐟcontents: fluff, fluff, fluff, slow burn, strangers to something more, mutual pining, subtle flirting, slight awkward tension, lingering glances, black reader implied a bit.

.ᐟsummary: you just moved to encino, and you don’t know where to start off. continuously bumping into a familiar face begins to make things a bit easier.

also, i was thinking about creating a taglist. let me know if you’d want to be added to it.

ever since you moved to califoria, things had been difficult. whether it was the unfamiliar streets, or the dry summer heat that clung to your skin. or the fact that everyone seemed to know somebody, while you knew nobody.

your mother kept insisting that you would settle in eventually. but you weren’t so sure. so whenever the walls of your new house started feeling too small, you’d wander. that afternoon, the sun had driven almost everyone indoors, leaving ventura boulevard unusually still.

you found yourself slipping into a tiny record and thrift shop tucked between two large storefronts, the sign was faded and barely hanging on. a bell chimed softly as you stepped inside. the placed smelled of old vinyl, and dust that had settled over years of forgotten treasures.

there was a radio somewhere behind the counter that crackled faintly, playing a tune that was quiet enough to blend into the air. there wasn’t a customer in sight. you moved between different aisles, lazily flipping through stacks of records out of boredom than interest.

most of the covers looked older than you, but every now and then one caught your eye long enough for you to smile. lost in thought, you reached for a record on the highest shelf. it slipped. “oh-“

you stumbled backwards before you could catch it, bumping into someone. the impact was gentle, enough to make you spin straight in embarrassment. “i’m so sorry,” you blurted, immediately crouching to grab the fallen record.

another hand reached for it at the exact same time. “oh.” you looked up. the first thing you noticed was the way his dark curls framed his forehead. or his big brown eyes, maybe even the black leather jacket that hung loosely over his t-shirt.

he flashed a small smile, he seemed shy. “no, that was all my fault,” he said softly, handing the record back to you. “i wasn’t paying attention.” his voice was gentle. you blinked. “…thanks.” the quiet music in the store seemed to stop, he let out the softest laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i guess we’re both apologizing for the same thing.” despite yourself, you smiled. “i guess we are.” your gaze drifted over him again, this time with a little more attention. there was no way. “hey,” you spoke carefully, almost scared that you’d embarrass yourself.

“aren’t you-“ a knowing smile spread across his face before you could finish. he’d clearly been asked the question many times before. “michael,” he answered quietly. hearing him say that made you even more certain. “…jackson?”

he gave a small nod, his smile turning almost bashful. “that’s me.” you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. “i knew it. i just… didn’t want to sound crazy if i was wrong.” “you wouldn’t be the first,” he said with a chuckle.

you smiled looking down at the record in your hands. “i just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” when you looked back up, he was just looking at you. then he smiled. “thank you.” you nodded, “well…,” you finally said, “it was nice meeting you.”

“you too.” you smiled one last time before making your way to the register, the bell chiming as you stepped back into the afternoon heat. somehow, california didn’t feel too bad anymore.

after the first few weeks you spent wandering in california, you found some places that were really comfortable. the bookstore became one of your favorite places. it wasn’t like the crowded malls, or the busy sidewalks.

it was quiet, and tucked away just far enough from the main road that most people forgot that it existed. you wandered through the shelves without much of a plan, trialing your fingers over faded spines until you made it to the children’s section.

“what about this one?” the voice made you stop. it sounded familiar. you peaked around the bookshelf, spotting him almost immediately. michael stood feet away, a stack of colorful picture books tucked beneath one arm while another rested open in his hands.

beside him stood the man that you briefly noticed outside the record shop weeks ago, hands folded in front of him as he waited painfully. “i think they’d like that one,” the man said, nodding towards the book. michael studied the book for another second before smiling to himself.

“yeah,” he murmured. “it’s funny.” you couldn’t help but smile. somehow, seeing michael jackson standing in the middle of a children’s aisle, carefully debating picture books, wasn’t what you’d expected. it was nice. you decided not to interrupt, you quietly stepped away from the shelf.

“hey.” your footsteps came to a stop. you turned, finding michael looking directly at you. he smiled, his expression brightening the second your eyes met. “record shop,” he said simply. you laughed. “bookstore.”

“guess we keep finding the same places.” you nodded. “either that,” you smiled. “or california is smaller than i thought.” he laughed softly. “maybe a little bit of both.” the man beside him glanced between the two of you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“friend of yours?” michael looked over at him, shaking his head. “not yet,” he said with a quiet laugh. “we’ve just… ran into each other a couple of times.” you smiled. “apparently we have a habit of doing that.” “well,”the man introduced himself, extending a hand. “i’m bill.”

you returned the handshake, introducing yourself in return. “nice to finally put a name to the face,” bill said. “same here.” michael repeated your name quietly, almost to himself. “that’s a pretty name.” heat crept into your cheeks. “thank you.”

your eyes drifted to the stack of books tucked beneath his arm. “that’s quite a collection.” he glanced down, smiling as though he’d almost forgotten he was carrying them. “i’m trying to decide which ones to take.” “for?” “i’m visiting a children’s hospital this afternoon.”

he ran a thumb over the cover of the book in his hands. “i like reading to the kids whenever i can.” your expression softened. “that’s really sweet.” he shrugged, a little bashful. “i just hope they like the stories.” you stepped closer to the shelf, scanning the colorful covers. “can i make a recommendation?” michael looked up.

sunlight spilled through the windows, catching the warm brown of your skin as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. michael glanced away almost as quickly as he’d looked, clearing his throat before speaking again. “please.”

the next time you ran into michael, it was entirely by chance. it had been nearly three weeks since you last saw him at the bookstore. life had slowly settled into something that almost resembled routine. california still didn’t quite feel like home, but it was starting to feel familiar.

saturday mornings were your favorite. the farmers market stretched for blocks, filled with the scent of fresh fruit, warm bread, and bouquets of flowers in every color imaginable. you found yourself lingering at one particular stand, carefully brushing your fingertips over bundles of daisies and sunflowers.

“those one’s don’t last very long.” the florist smiled apologetically, pointing toward a nearby bucket. “these will.” you nodded, thanking her before reaching for a bundle of white lilies. “those are pretty.” the voice was soft enough that you almost missed it. you turned.

michael stood on the other side of the flower stand, a small smile already forming on his face. bill stood a few steps behind him, giving the two of you space while pretending to look through another display. your eyes widened slightly. “hi.”“hi,” he repeated, smiling.

for a second, neither of you said anything. then you laughed softly. “this is becoming a little strange.” his smile grew. “what is?” you glanced around at the crowded market, then back at him. “the fact that we keep finding each other.” he looked amused. “i was thinking the same thing.”

your gaze dropped back to the flowers in your hands. “i guess i just have good timing.” your grip on the flowers loosened a bit. “or i do,” he said, a little playfully. you looked back up at him, a small smile forming. “are you always this confident?”

he laughed softly, shaking his head. “not usually.” you tilted your head. “usually?” he nodded, still flashing a sheepish smile. “i’m just saying… we’ve run into each other three times now.” “so that’s enough evidence?” you laughed quietly, turning your attention back to the flowers.

“i’ve always liked these.” michael looked down at the bouquet in your hands. “lilies?” you nodded.“they’re simple, but they stand out.” he smiled at that. “that’s a good way to describe them.” his eyes moved back to the flowers. “my mom likes them.” “really?” he nodded.

“she always says flowers make a place feel warmer.” you smiled softly. “i think she’s right.” for a moment, the two of you just stood there, surrounded by the noise of the market and the people moving around you. “do you come here often?” he asked.

you glanced around. “actually… not really.” his eyebrows lifted slightly. “no?” you shook your head. “i’m still finding places around here. i haven’t been in california for very long.” michael nodded slowly, listening. “really? where did you move from?” you told him, and he smiled.

“that must’ve been a big change.” you laughed softly. “it was. i’m still getting used to everything.” “i understand.” something about the way he said it made you look at him. “you do?” he nodded. “sometimes new places can feel a little strange at first.” you smiled. “yeah. exactly.”

he glanced around the market. “i should probably let you get back to your flowers.” you looked down at the bouquet in your hands. “and you should probably get back to whatever you were doing.” he smiled. neither of you moved right away. it was strange.

three times now, you had run into each other by chance, and somehow saying goodbye felt harder each time. “well…”“well,” you repeated. he laughed softly. “i guess i’ll see you around.”you smiled. “seems like that’s what we do.” “yeah,” he said, looking at you for a moment longer. “i guess it does.”

you watched him walk away, disappearing slowly into the crowd until the familiar curls and the black leather jacket blended in with everyone else. for some reason, you found yourself smiling. it was strange. a few weeks ago, he was just someone you accidentally bumped into in a quiet record shop.

now, somehow, you found yourself hoping you’d see him again. you looked down at the flowers in your hands, a small laugh escaping you before you turned back toward the market.

a few steps away, bill glanced over at him. “you like her.” michael looked over, almost caught off guard. “what?” bill only smiled. “you heard me.” michael looked back toward where you had been standing, the crowd already swallowing you up.

“i just think she’s nice.” bill didn’t respond, and somehow that said enough. because the truth was that michael didn’t know exactly when it happened. somewhere between the record shop and the bookstore, or between conversations, he’d started looking forward to seeing you. and that was new.

the next time you saw michael, it wasn’t as surprising as it used to be. maybe because, by then, he wasn’t just some stranger you’d happened to run into. he was someone you recognized. someone whose laugh you knew.

someone you found yourself looking for in crowded places, even when you told yourself you weren’t. and maybe, without either of you realizing it, the little moments between you had started becoming something more. the conversations lasted longer, and the goodbyes became harder.

and every time you walked away, there was always the same small thought lingering behind. i hope i see him again. except this time, when you stepped into the bookstore, you weren’t expecting anything. you were only there to browse. to lose yourself between the shelves for a while.

but then you heard his voice. “i had a feeling i’d find you here.” you turned, and there he was. michael stood a few feet away, that same soft smile appearing on his face. and somehow, seeing him again felt less like a coincidence and more like something you’d been waiting for.

after spending some time together, the two of you eventually found yourselves standing outside the bookstore, neither one of you in much of a hurry to leave. the quiet conversations had become a familiar feeling by now.

even the lingering goodbyes. the way neither of you seemed ready to be the first one to walk away. you glanced down at the book in your hands, smiling. “i think this is the longest we’ve gone without accidentally running into each other.” michael laughed softly.

“i was thinking the same thing.” you looked back at him. “maybe we’re finally out of coincidences.”a small smile appeared on his face, but he looked away for a moment, almost like he was gathering the courage to say something.

“you know…” he started. you waited. “i was thinking maybe next time, we don’t have to leave it up to chance.” your eyebrows lifted slightly. “what do you mean?” he looked back at you, his smile turning a little shy. “maybe we could go somewhere. just the two of us.”

you stared at him for a second. then a small smile tugged at your lips. “michael…” he tilted his head.“are you asking me out?” a quiet laugh escaped him, and he looked down, almost embarrassed. “i was trying to.”

that made you laugh. “you could’ve just said that.” “i know,” he admitted, smiling. “i just wanted to ask the right way.” something about that made your expression soften. because despite everything the world knew about him, standing there with you, he was just michael.

“then yes,” you said quietly. his smile widened.“yes?” you nodded, “yes.” for once, you wouldn’t have to hope you’d run into him. now you knew you would see him again.

poolside exposures

.ᐟcontents: fluff, mutual pining, best friends, soft!michael, to be loved is to be seen, soft confession, mutual pining, light intimacy.

.ᐟsummary: you’ve been over to hayvenhurst a hundred times before. but that night by the pool, something in the way michael looks at you feels different.

one more picture

you had been to hayvenhurst more times than you could count. it wasn’t anything new anymore, walking through familiar hallways, leaving your shoes by the door, knowing exactly where everything was without asking.

things worked that for as long as you could remember, in a way you never questioned. when michael had called earlier that morning asking if you wanted to come over and swim, you hadn’t thought twice before saying yes.

the back door was already open when you followed him outside, warm summer air wrapping around you as the pool came into view. “you really just wanted someone to swim with,” you teased, dropping your bag onto one of the lounge chairs.

michael glanced back at you, the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “maybe.” you laughed, “i knew it.” sliding off your sandals before walking toward the edge of the pool. the water looked inviting enough after spending the afternoon in the heat.

“just don’t push me in,” you said, pointing a finger at him over your shoulder. “i actually did my hair today.” he almost looked offended. “i wasn’t going to.” you turned back towards the water, “good.”

that was when a hand landed lightly between your shoulder blades. “michael-“ the rest of your protest disappeared beneath a splash. cool water swallowed you whole before you surfaced again, coughing through a laugh. you pushed your hair back with both hands, glaring up at him.

“i just told you not to do that!” he stood at the edge of the pool, trying very hard not to smile. “you were getting in anyway.” you splashed water at him, “that’s not the point.” he was trying his best not to laugh. “then what is it?”

“then what is?” you gestured towards your head. “look at my hair!” he laughed, it was an actual laugh this time. “it’s wet.” “exactly!” you pushed your wet hair back again, frowning at him. “i literally did my hair for this, you know.” michael looked at you like that didn’t change anything at all. “yeah,” he said.

then, a little quieter, like it wasn’t supposed to be said out loud. “you still look pretty.” you stopped for half a second. then immediately splashed him.“no i don’t, michael.” he blinked, water dripping from his sleeve. “what?”

“i look like i drowned.” he shook his head a little, like you were being ridiculous. “you don’t.” you narrowed your eyes at him, unconvinced. he sighed, almost smiling to himself. “fine.” he stood from the edge of the pool, brushing his hands off against his shorts before reaching for the camera he’d left on the lounge chair. “i’ll prove it to you.”

you blinked. “prove what?” instead of him answering, he lifted the camera. all you heard was a click. “michael!” click. you laughed, throwing your hands up to cover your face as another flash went off. “stop!” he only laughed, lowering the camera for a second before lifting it again. another flash.

you groaned dramatically, ducking lower into the water in a hopeless attempt to hide from him. “that isn’t fair,” you muttered, peeking at him through your fingers. he looked down at the camera, smiling to himself as he wound the film with his thumb. “hold still.” he said firmly. “i’m not holding still for anything.”

naturally, you did the exact opposite. you swam toward the deeper end of the pool, sending a wave of water behind you as michael stayed where he was, watching with that same quiet smile you’d known for years. click. “you’re unbelievable,” you laughed, turning back to face him. “come here.” you shook your head, “no.”

he held onto the camera like he didn’t plan on stopping. “one more.” a small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “you’ve said ‘one more’ like five times already.” he made this face like he was genuinely trying to remember. you laughed under your breath, pushing a wet strand of hair from your face. “yes.”

michael leaned back just a little, trying to get better angles. “then what’s one more?” you couldn’t help but laugh. shaking your head, you swam back toward the edge anyway, resting your arms on the concrete beside him. “you know,” you said, catching your breath, “for someone who invited me over to swim, you’ve spent an awful lot of time sitting there.”

michael looked up from the camera. “who said i was staying dry?” before you could ask what he meant, he set the camera carefully on the lounge chair behind him. then, without another word, he jumped in. the splash hit you immediately. and when you resurfaced, he was already swimming toward you like he hadn’t just done it.

eventually, the fun you two were having faded into something softer, the kind that didn’t need to be loud anymore. the water settled around the two of you, gentle ripples brushing against the pool’s edge as you drifted closer without really thinking about it. “i’m getting cold,” you admitted, hugging your arms around yourself as you floated near him.

michael glanced at you for a second before pushing himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his body as he stepped onto the edge. “c’mere.” you didn’t hesitate. you swam over, placing your hands on the edge as he crouched down beside you. he reached for your hand and pulled you up carefully, steadying you as you climbed out.

for a moment, you just stood there, water running down your arms. his hand stayed around yours a second longer than necessary. not enough for you to fully notice. but enough to feel it. then he let go. the two of you moved without really talking after that, wrapping towels around your shoulders, finding the nearest lounge chairs, and letting the night air settle over you.

the backyard had started to shift into evening. the sky wasn’t bright anymore, just soft and dimming at the edges, like everything was slowly letting go of the day. you leaned back into the chair, pulling your damp hair off your neck. michael sat beside you, the camera resting loosely in his lap again.

for a while, neither of you said anything. it wasn’t awkward. it never really was with him. just quiet in a way that felt familiar. you glanced over at the camera, then back at him. “can i ask you something?” he looked up right away. “yeah.” you hesitated for half a second, still not looking at him fully. “why do you take so many pictures of me?”you said it lightly, like curiosity, not complaint.

but michael didn’t answer immediately. his fingers tightened slightly around the camera before he looked down at it, like he was searching for something in it he couldn’t quite say out loud.“i don’t know,” he said at first. then he shook his head a little, like that wasn’t true. “that’s not… true.” you turned your head slightly toward him now. he exhaled, quiet.

“it’s just-“ he paused, jaw tightening for a second like he was trying to find the right version of the truth that wouldn’t change everything. “when i’m with you, i don’t want to forget it.” you blinked once. “…forget what?” he finally looked at you then. “you,” he said simply. the word hung there longer than anything else had that night. you didn’t say anything right away.

and he seemed to realize that too, because he looked down again, thumb brushing the edge of the camera like he needed something to hold onto. “that sounds stupid,” he added quickly, softer. you shook your head a little. “no, it doesn’t.” the night around you felt quieter somehow. michael let out a breath, almost a laugh, but it didn’t really have humor in it. “i think about you a lot,” he admitted, like it came out before he could stop it. “more than i should.”

your grip on the towel tightened slightly. “michael…” he finally set the camera down beside him. “i just…” he looked at you again, this time not pulling away. “i don’t know how to say it right, but i like you.” no joke after it. just the words, sitting there in the soft summer air like they’d always been there, waiting. neither of you said anything for a moment.

you let out a small breath, looking down at your hands for a second like you were trying to find the right way to say anything at all. then you looked back up at him. “you know…” you started quietly. michael glanced at you, waiting. you shifted slightly in your chair. “you could’ve just said that earlier.” he blinked. “what?” you shrugged, but there was something softer in your expression now. “i think i would’ve listened.”

his grip on the camera loosened slightly. “yeah?” he asked, quieter now. you nodded once, like it was obvious to you. “yeah.” another moment passed between you two, but it didn’t feel heavy anymore. like something had already been understood without either of you saying it out loud. you glanced at him again, a small smile forming before you could stop it.

“so…” you leaned back in your chair a little, letting the moment settle. “are you gonna make a photo book of me?” michael let out a breath that sounded halfway between a laugh and something nervous, looking down at the camera like it had suddenly become very important again. “maybe,” he admitted. you smiled to yourself, shaking your head a little.

then you shifted in your seat, turning slightly toward him. “wait.” he looked over. “what?” you reached out, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “let’s take one together.” he blinked. “together?” “yeah,” you said simply, like it was obvious. then he slowly lifted the camera, adjusting it so it could fit both of you in the frame without either of you having to stand.

you scooted a little closer on the lounge chair, your shoulder brushing his. “don’t make a weird face,” you said. “i don’t make weird faces,” he replied immediately. you looked at him. that made him smile a little anyway. “okay,” he said softly, settling the camera in both hands. “ready?” “yeah.”

contents: fluff, mutual pining, best friends, soft!michael, yearning (kinda), to be loved is to be seen

summary: michael can’t stop taking pictures of you. no matter where you go, michael’s camera follows. you never understand why he insists on taking one more picture. maybe one day, he’ll finally tell you.

poolside exposures

“smile!” michael would say before he took yet another photo of you. the flash went off, quick and bright, like it always did. it was sharp enough to make you blink and laugh at the same time. “i don’t get it,” you laughed, squinting at him while he lowered the camera. “why do you always take photos of me?”

michael would never explain why. instead he looked down at the camera as if it needed adjusting, even though it didn’t. he moved his thumb over the edge of the camera out of habit, like he was grounding himself in something he understood more than the question he just asked.

“michael?” you prompted, softer this time, as if you weren’t trying to corner him. like you were just curious. he let out a small breath through his nose, almost a laugh. then he shrugged. “it’s just a good shot,” he said. “a good shot?” you repeated, skeptical. “it’s just me.”

that made him pause for a moment, longer than it should have. “yeah,” his voice quieter this time. “i know.” somehow that made things worse. you laughed, rolling your eyes like you didn’t care, turning slightly away from him as the sun hit your shoulder in a warm way. behind you, you heard the soft click of him pressing the shutter button on the camera again.

“michael-“ “hold still,” he interrupted, but his tone was firm. so you did. the camera clicked again.

──── ۶ৎ ────

another time, michael had taken a picture of you when you were getting ready to go out with your girlfriends. he just happened to be over. that was what you told yourself, anyway. you stood in the mirror, pulling at your earrings. half listening to the music drifting from somewhere down the hall.

that was when you noticed him in the reflection. he was leaning against the doorway, camera already in his hands like it belonged there. “michael,” you sighed, catching his eyes in the mirror. “what are you doin’?” he didn’t answer right away. instead, he lifted the camera instinctively.

“don’t,” you warned automatically, though there was no real heat behind it. the shutter clicked anyway. you turned to face him fully this time. “i’m leaving in like five minutes.” he frowned. “i know,” and something about the way he said it made you slow down. he wasn’t smiling this time. he lowered the camera a little, but didn’t put it down. “you’re going out again.”

you blinked. “yeah? with the girls. i told you.” michael nodded, a little too quickly. “right.” he said it like it was obvious. like he wasn’t supposed to feel anything about it at all. but his grip on the camera tightened anyway. you turned back towards the mirror, smoothing out your top, trying not to overthink it. “you’re acting weird,” you said lightly, like it was nothing.

“i’m not,” he answered but it came out faster than usual. that made you pause, glancing at him through the reflection. “michael…” he exhaled, “it’s just…” he started, then stopped, jaw tightening slightly as he looked away for a second. you waited. he shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “you’ve been going out a lot lately.” you turned to face him.

“it’s summer, that’s the whole point.” he looked at you, nodding. “i know.” then, almost like he didn’t mean to say it, he added, “you look like you’re having more fun out there.” that made you turn a little more fully toward him. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he shook his head immediately. “nothing. forget it.”

but he didn’t move, and neither did you. you softened a little, confused now. “michael…” his fingers adjusted on the camera again, like he needed something to do with his hands. “it’s fine,” he said, too quickly again. then, after a second, he spoke quieter. “just don’t disappear on me, okay?” he said it like a joke. like it was casual.

but it didn’t really sound like one. you stared at him for a second, then let out a small laugh to break the tension. “i’m literally going for like two hours, mikey.” “i’m gonna miss you.” he said, nodding, but his eyes flicked away for a second like that wasn’t really the point.

then, like he was forcing himself back into normal, he lifted the camera again. “hold still. one more picture.” he said. he smiled this time as he clicked the shutter. only a little. you were still trying to touch up your top when the horn sounded outside. “oh! gotta go, that’s them.” michael lowered the camera slightly. “i’ll be quick,” you said, grabbing your bag from your bed.

he nodded. you brushed past him toward the hallway, and he instinctively stepped aside, camera still hanging from his hand like he’d forgotten what to do with it. at the front door, you glanced back at him. “don’t take fifty more pictures while i’m gone,” you warned, pointing at him. that made him huff a quiet laugh. “no promises.” you rolled your eyes, smiling anyway, and pulled the door open.

then you were gone. the door clicked shut behind you. and almost immediately, the house felt different. not empty exactly. just quieter in a way that made everything he was trying not to think about suddenly louder. michael stood there for a moment, still holding the camera. then he let out a breath and walked back down the hall.

──── ۶ৎ ────

later that night, michael was back at hayvenhurst. the house had long since quieted down by the time he shut himself in his room. he set his camera on his bed, emptied the day’s photographs beside it, and smiled to himself. he always did this part slowly. not because he had to, but because he didn’t want it to end too fast. one by one, he picked them up.

you laughing mid-turn. you squinting at the flash. you in front of the mirror, distracted, and not realizing he was still looking at you through the lens even when you weren’t posing. he smiled a little at that one. “you never stay still,” he murmured to himself, like he was teasing you even though you weren’t there to hear it. but his tone wasn’t frustrated. it was fond. like it was something he liked about you.

he leaned back against his headboard, letting the photos rest in his lap for a second. “you always think it’s just pictures,” he said quietly, like he was continuing a conversation you’d started hours ago. he sighed, picking one up again, carefully, like always. “maybe one day…” he exhaled, almost a laugh, soft and uncertain. “i’ll find the time to tell you.”

his eyes stayed on the photo when he said it. “that it was never just about the pictures.” then he set it down gently with the rest, like it mattered too much to crease. and somewhere out there, he knew you were laughing with your friends, completely unaware that you had already become his favorite part of every roll of film. not something he was trying to hold onto.

just something he didn’t know how to stop noticing.

────────────────────

pairing: michael! x blackfem!reader!

contents: arguing, misunderstanding, soft angst, emotional tension, hurt/comfort, silent treatment, begging, mentions of diana

summary: a phone call turns into an argument. the argument follows you all the way to a charity gala. michael spends the entire night trying to make you forgive him, and you spend the entire night pretending it’s not working.

━━━━━━━━━

the evening started off perfectly. which in hindsight should’ve been a sign something was up. at least, that’s what you told yourself at the time. hayvenhurst was quiet in that rare, soft way it usually got after a certain hour. even the air felt like it didn’t move too much. it was peaceful.

maybe a little too peaceful. you sat at the edge of michael’s bed, adjusting your bracelet on your wrist for what had to be the fifth time, while he moved around the room getting ready for the charity event.

every second, you’d catch him adjusting something. either his tie, his jacket, a loose curl that fell into his face, and then his tie again. you watched him mess with it again before shaking your head.“michael.”

“what?” he asked immediately. “the tie’s not going anywhere.” you said, standing up and walking over to him. he barely had time to react before you reached up, fixing his tie correctly.

“stop stressing,” you muttered. “just try to be calm.” your fingers brushed against his collar as you fixed his tie for what was hopefully the last time tonight.

“there,” you said, stepping back. “now stop touching things.” michael glanced down at it before looking at you. “what if it gets crooked again?”

you stared at him. “michael.” “what?” “you haven’t even moved.” a grin tugged at his lips. “still. anything could happen.”

you laughed, reaching up to smooth the front of his jacket. “you’re impossible.” “that’s not what you said yesterday.” “oh, really?” he nodded.

“what i remember is you calling me charming.” you rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t stop smiling. “keep dreaming.” his grin only widened. before he could even come up with a comeback, the phone rang. the sound cut through the room, ruining the moment. michael sighed dramatically.

“saved by the bell,” you teased. “very funny.” he crossed the room and picked up the receiver. there was a long silence in the room before he spoke up. you knew something was wrong.

“hello?” a pause, then a smile appeared on his face. “hey, diana.” you watched as he leaned against the dresser. “no, we’re almost ready.” a laugh escaped him. “no, you don’t.”

there was another pause, which made everything worse. his smile grew. “you’re impossible.” your narrowed your eyes. whatever she was saying, she was clearly entertaining herself. “diana.” he said, shaking his head. “you’re being ridiculous.” her response on the other end must have been immediate. “well, thank you.”

he laughed again. “oh, stop.” you stared at him, he didn’t seem to think anything of it. if anything, he looked amused. his eyes drifted towards you, catching you staring. “yeah, she’s here.” he paused, “mmhm.” then his smile faltered slightly. “no, don’t do that.” he laughed again, quieter this time. “diana.” you knew that tone.

the one he got whenever someone crossed a line and he refused to acknowledge it. “no, she’s not.” a pause. michael glanced over at you once more. “she’s sitting right here.” he hesitated as if she said something wrong. then, completely oblivious, he smiled. “i’ll tell her you said that.”

after a few moments later, michael finally hung up. the receiver clicked back into place, then the silence crept in. you stared at him. “…what?” the fact that he had to ask made the whole thing worse. you let out a short laugh. “nothing.” “it is not nothing.” he shot back, you grabbed your purse from the bed.

michael frowned. “why are you upset?” that stopped you. slowly, you turned around. “are you serious?” “what did i do?” you stared at him. “diana was flirting with you.” immediately, he shook his head. “no, she wasn’t.” “michael—“ “she was joking.”

“that’s what you always say.” his expression tightened. “what is that supposed to mean?” “it means she always crosses a line and you never do anything about it.” there was a beat of silence.

“because there aren’t any lines to cross.” you laughed in disbelief. “right.” “why are you making this into something it isn’t?” he asked. “why are you pretending it isn’t happening?”

michael ran a hand through his hair. for the first time all evening, he genuinely sounded irritated. “maybe because i don’t need you deciding what’s best for me.” the room went still, and his words hung there. “oh.” immediately michael’s face changed. not because he meant it, but because he realized how it sounded. by then, it was already too late.

“that’s not what i—“ a knock interrupted him, “mike? car’s ready.” it was bill. the timing couldn’t have been worse. michael looked at you, and you looked away. neither of you said anything. after a moment you headed to the door. the walk to the car was silent, painfully silent.

normally, michael would’ve filled the silence with something asking if you had everything, making some joke, humming to himself. tonight, there was nothing. just the sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway. by the time you reached the front entrance, bill had already opened the door. the evening air hit your skin immediately.

the limousine waited at the curb, while bill held the door open. you slid inside, nodding your head at bill as a small ‘thank you’. a second later, michael followed. and somehow the silence began to feel deafening. streetlights drifted past the windows in slow golden streaks. the city blurred by outside, while neither of you moved inside. neither of you spoke.

you kept your attention fixed on the window. michael kept glancing your way when he thought you weren’t looking. every time he opened his mouth, he seemed to think better of it. every time, until finally. “i’m sorry.” his voice was quiet. almost swallowed by the hum of the engine.

you kept your eyes on the passing city lights. neither of you spoke for a moment. “you should be.” the words came out before you could stop them. the second they did, you felt this twinge of guilt.

michael visibly sank back into his seat. “i didn’t mean it like that.” you nodded. “i know.” his head turned towards you immediately. the answer clearly wasn’t what he’d expected. “you do?”

“i know you didn’t mean it, but that’s not the point.” you finally looked at him. “the point is that you said it anyway.” the apology vanished from his lips. for a second, neither of you looked away.

then you turned back to the window. the city continued to blur past in streaks of gold and white. and michael, for once, had nothing to say. by the time the limousine slowed to a stop, the silence had settled back between you.

outside, flashes from photographers lit up the night. the charity event had already begun. the second the door opened, the noise hit you. laughter, conversations, even the distant clink of glasses. flashes from photographers illuminated the entrance as guests filled inside of the ballroom.

michael stepped out first, and immediately people began gravitating toward him. some offered handshakes, while others greeted him by name. a few simply wanted a moment of his attention. michael smiled politely through all of it. you’re stayed close beside him, offering your own greetings when necessary.

to anyone watching, nothing seemed out of place. you smiled, michael smiled. the two of you looked perfectly fine. that was the worst part. as you moved through the venue, michael kept glancing your way. subtle enough that no one else would’ve noticed.

you ignored every single one. the ballroom itself was beautiful, crystal chandeliers casted a warm light across the room of elegantly dressed guests. round tables filled the room, decorated with white linens, flowers, and enough silverware to make you nervous.

eventually, an usher led the two of you to your table. michael pulled out your chair automatically. you thanked him. something in his expression faltered. only for a second. then he took his seat beside you. slowly, the crowd began to thin as guests settled into their seats. you were just beginning to think you’d talk to michael, but there was something else planned. “michael!” you froze.

you could recognize that voice from a mile away. michael brightened. “diana.” of course. she crossed the room with a smile, reaching him before you could even process what was happening. “look at you,” she said, straightening his lapel before he’d even gotten a chance to greet her properly. “you look handsome tonight.” michael laughed softly. “thank you.”

“no, really.” diana rested a hand on the back of his chair. “you do.” you looked away, almost immediately. you already knew where this was going. “how many people have stopped you tonight?”

“i don’t know.” he said, his voice a bit too soft. “a hundred?” diana asked. he shot her a look, “what?” she laughed. “i’m serious.” michael shook his head, smiling despite himself.

across the table, your jaw tightened. it wasn’t even what she was saying. it was the way she said it. as if the rest of the room didn’t exist. as if you didn’t exist. “you know,” diana continued, “i knew that tie would look good on you.”

michael blinked. “you did?” she smirked, “of course. i always know.” something about what she said made your stomach twist. michael, completely oblivious, continued to laugh.

then diana finally looked at you. “oh.” just “oh.” as if she’d only just realized you were sitting there. a polite smile appeared on her face. “it’s nice to see you.” before you could answer, her attention had already shifted back to michael.

finally, someone else called her name from another table. diana sighed dramatically as if she didn’t want to leave. “everyone wants something tonight.” michael laughed. she squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“i’ll come steal you later.” then she was gone. the silence that followed was immediate. you started at the table that was set in front of you. beside you, michael shifted in his seat. like he already knew he was in trouble.

the event carried on around you. the speeches came and went. applauses echoed throughout the ballroom. at some point, dinner was served. a waiter placed a plate in front of you before moving on to the next table.

you barely looked at it. beside you, michael noticed immediately. of course he did. he tried to leave it alone, but he just couldn’t. “you haven’t eaten anything.” you kept your eyes on the stage. “i’m not hungry.”

michael glanced down at your untouched plate. “you should eat.” a short laugh escaped you. “there it is.” his brows furrowed. “what?” “you sound just like her.” the words hit harder than you intended.

michael went quiet, immediately. the room buzzed with conversation around you, but suddenly it felt very far away. “that’s not fair,” he said softly. you look at him for the first time in what felt like hours. “no?” “no.” his voice was too soft, not in a defensive way. he was hurt.

you looked away again. “it’s not even about the flirting anymore.” michael sighed. “then what is it about?” you stared at your plate. for a moment, you considered dropping it. instead, you sighed. “it’s watching people decide things for you.”

his expression changed slightly, but enough for you to notice. “you let them.” “who?” “you know who.” michael looked down. you continued before you could lose your nerve. “she talks for you. she tells you what to do. she acts like she knows best for you all the time.”

you swallowed. “and the worst part is you just let it happen.” the words sat between you two. “you don’t have to keep everyone happy all the time, michael.” for a second he didn’t say anything. the noise of the ballroom faded into the background.

“i know.” you laughed softly. “you do?” michael’s shoulders slumped. the fight seemed to leave him all at once. “yeah, i do.” you looked at him. he looked miserable. “i’m sorry.” this time, there wasn’t any hesitation. just honesty.

“i shouldn’t have said what i said earlier.” you stayed quiet. “i understand why you’re upset with me.” his voice dropped lower, like you two were alone. “you were trying to look out for me.” you felt your anger begin to crack.

michael noticed it. “i’m sorry,” he repeated. the corner of his mouth twitched into a small, hopeful smile. “please stop being mad at me. i’ll do anything.” despite yourself, you rolled your eyes. his smile widened. “please, pretty?” “we’re at a charity event.” “i know.” you sighed softly, but you couldn’t help smiling. “and people can hear you.” “i don’t care.”

you stared at him. he looked too pleased that you were finally talking to him. “michael.” “what?” “you’re impossible, michael.” his grin softened. “does than mean you’re forgiving me?” you considered him for a moment. “no.”

his smile immediately dropped. “seriously?” you took a sip of your drink. “mm-hm.” michael stared. “you can’t be.” “i am.” you laughed. “after all that?” after all that. as if his apology had been some grand sacrifice. “you think one apology fixes everything?” “it should’ve helped.” a smile tugged at your lips. “it helped.” his face brightened. “but i’m still mad with you.” the disappointment was immediate.

you had to look away before you smiled. beside you, michael groaned quietly. “oh, come on.” you shrugged. a few seats away, someone began speaking at the podium. neither of you were listening. “baby, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“keep what up?” “whatever this is.” he gestured vaguely between the two of you. “the whole pretending to hate me thing.”you finally laughed. a genuine one this time. his eyes lit up instantly. “there she is.” michael leaned slightly closer. “please forgive me.”

“no.”

“please.”

“no.”

“please.”

you rolled your eyes. across the room, applause broke out. neither of you acknowledged it. for a moment, the silence between you felt different. then michael spoke again. quietly this time. “so we’re okay?”

the question caught you off guard. suddenly he looked nervous. genuinely nervous. like he wasn’t asking about the argument anymore. like he was asking whether the two of you were okay.

your expression softened despite yourself. he noticed immediately. “please?” he tried one last time. the hopeful look on his face was almost enough to break your resolve. almost. you sighed dramatically. “i’ll think about it.” michael pressed a hand to his chest. “oh, thank God.” despite everything, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

the second he saw it, his entire expression softened. like he’d been waiting for it all night. “there you are,” he murmured. you rolled your eyes, but there wasn’t much conviction behind it anymore. “don’t.”

“what?” he asked, smiling. “that.” “what am i doing?” “you know exactly what you’re doing.” michael’s grin only widened. for a moment, he looked down at his hands. then back at you.

his smile faded slightly. “i’m sorry about diana.” the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. he held your gaze. “i should’ve listened to you.” you stayed quiet. “i know she can be… a lot sometimes.”

a small laugh escaped you. “sometimes?” “okay, all the time.” that earned the smallest smile. michael’s shoulders relaxed. “i’m serious, though.” his voice dropped lower.

“i’ll handle it.” you searched his face for a moment. “and you mean that?” “i do.” this time, it was impossible to hide your smile. “you know,” you said, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

that only made his grin widen. “i know.” the ballroom carried on around you, but it felt distant somehow. like the two of you had slipped into your own little corner of the evening. his expression softened again.

“again, i’m sorry.” he said quietly. “for all of it.” you held his gaze. “i know.” something in your chest eased. “besides,” he added, leaning in slightly, “i still have the rest of the night to get back in your good graces.”

you shook your head. “good luck.” his yes sparkled with amusement. “i’ll make it up to you when we get home, pretty.” the confidence in his voice made you laugh. “that’s bold promise.”

pairing: thrillerera!michael! x fem!reader!

contents: fluff, established relationship, flirting, kissing, pet names (baby), kinda protective michael, horror movie date, reader gets scared, comfort, physical affection, hints of playful teasing

summary: michael drags you to a horror movie you said you wouldn’t survive, spends the whole night teasing you about it, and watches you go from stubborn denial to quietly clinging onto his arm every time something jumps on screen, acting way too calm for someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.

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the phone rang just as you were able to settle into bed while reading one of the magazines that came in the mailbox.

with a sigh, you reached over to your nightstand for the receiver. “hello?”

“hi baby.”

a smile tugged at your lips. “what do you want?” he laughed immediately. you could picture him him perfectly — his head tipped back, shaking it as if you were the unreasonable one.

“that’s a terrible thing to say to your boyfriend.”

“i asked because i know you.”

“wow.”

you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling while your finger twisted the phone line. “last week you called because you needed help moving furniture.”

“and you helped.”

“because you wouldn’t stop asking.”

“you had fun.”

“i carried a couch.”

“with me.”

you shook your head, unable to stop the smile threatening to appear. there was something you found so unfair about michael. he could be annoying and charming at exactly the same time.

“so,” you said, settling deeper into your pillow. “what’s the plan?” he went quiet for a second. too quiet. immediately your eyes narrowed. “michael.”

“there’s a movie playing friday night.” you groaned before he could continue. that made his laughter echo through the receiver.

“i didn’t even tell you what it was.”

“i don’t need you to.”

“yes, you do.” he paused, it was a quick pause but definitely noticeable. “it’s horror.”

for a moment, all you could hear was the faint sound of him moving around on the other end of the line. the silence that followed was all the confirmation you needed.

you sat up. “absolutely not.”

“baby.”

“no.”

“c’mon.”

“michael, the last scary movie we watched had me sleeping with a lamp on.”

“for one night.”

“three.”

“okay, maybe three.” you could hear the grin in his voice. which only made you roll your eyes harder.

“you’re supposed to be helping your case.”

“i am.”

“how?”

“i’ll protect you.”

a laugh escaped before you could stop it. “protect me?”

“yeah.”

“from the movie?”

“exactly.”

you shook your head. he sounded completely serious. which somehow made it funnier. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and yet you’re still thinking about it.”

your mouth opened. then closed again. unfortunately, he noticed.

“see?”

“don’t start.”

“that wasn’t a no.”

you hated when he was right. especially because he knew it.

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friday night rolled around much faster than you would’ve liked. one minute it was a casual conversation over the phone. the next, you were standing in front of your bedroom mirror trying to decide if you hated your outfit or not.

you smoothed your hands over the front of your shirt for what felt like the hundredth time before stepping back to look at yourself again. nothing was wrong with it. at least, you didn’t think there was.

you were just nervous. which was ridiculous. it wasn’t your first date with michael. far from it. still, there was always something about seeing him that made your stomach flutter.

maybe it was because no matter how often you spent time together, he still had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the only person in the room. or maybe it was because he’d spent the entire week reminding you that this movie was happening.

every single day. your phone rang wednesday. then thursday. and both conversations somehow ended with michael laughing at your increasingly dramatic complaints about horror movies.

a glance at the clock told you he should be arriving any minute. almost immediately, your stomach flipped. “get a grip,” you muttered to yourself. the words had barely left your mouth when the doorbell rang. your eyes widened, of course he was right on time.

after one last glance in the mirror, you hurried from your room and toward the front door. the moment you pulled it open, any remaining irritation you’d been holding onto about the movie disappeared.

michael stood on the porch with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, a smile already spreading across his face the second he saw you. his dark curls framed his face perfectly, and despite the evening sun already beginning to disappear, a pair of sunglasses rested on top of his head.

“hi.”

you hated how effortlessly he could make you nervous. “hi.”

his smile widened. “you look pretty.” heat immediately rushed to your cheeks. “don’t start.”

“what?” he asked innocently. you rolled your eyes, and he laughed. before you could come up with a response, he gently held out his arm.

“ready?”

you eyed him suspiciously. “for the movie?”

“for the movie.”

“the horror movie.”

“the very same.”

you groaned. michael only looked pleased with himself. a few minutes later, the two of you were on your way to the theater. the drive was comfortable.

the radio played softly in the background while michael drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and occasionally glanced over just to smile at you. every time you caught him doing it, he looked completely unapologetic.

by the time you arrived, the parking lot was already filling up. bright neon lights reflected off the theater windows while groups of people crowded near the entrance. the second you stepped inside, the smell of fresh popcorn hit you.

“okay,” michael said, turning toward you. “snacks.” you pointed toward the concession stand.

“you promised.”he looked offended.

“i always keep my promises.”

“that’s debatable.”

“baby.”

you laughed as he guided you toward the line. a few minutes later, the two of you walked away carrying far more snacks than either of you realistically needed. one large popcorn, and two drinks. a ridiculous amount of candy.

and somehow, despite michael being the one who insisted on buying everything, you ended up carrying half of it. “how is this fair?”

“you’re doing great.”

“i’m carrying all the candy.”

“exactly.”

“that’s not an answer.” his grin only grew. you were still muttering complaints under your breath when you reached your theater. the glowing sign beside the entrance read: the house on blackthorn hill

you stopped walking. slowly, you turned to look at michael. he immediately started smiling.

“no.”

“baby.”

“absolutely not.”

“c’mon, we already discussed this.”

“that title alone sounds haunted.”

“that’s the point.”

you stared at him, and he stared back. then he gently took the popcorn from your hands and nudged you toward the entrance.

“you’re gonna love it.”

“i don’t agree with you.” michael laughed as the two of you stepped into the dark theater. somewhere deep down, you had a feeling this was going to be a very long night.

michael lead the way down the aisle, carefully balancing the popcorn under one arm, and the candy held in the other. you followed behind him with the drinks.

the theater was already beginning to fill up, scattered conversations echoing through the dim room as people searched for their seats. when you finally reached your row, michael stepped aside to let you sit down first.

“after you.”

you narrowed your eyes. “being polite isn’t gonna make the movie less scary.”

he laughed. “just sit down.”

you muttered something under your breath that made him grin as you slid into your seat. a moment later, he settled beside you. the popcorn found its place between the two of you. drinks went into the cup holders. somehow, despite your earlier complaints, most of the candy ended up divided between your laps.

for a while, the theater lights remained bright. people continued filing in. somewhere a few rows behind you, someone was laughing loudly enough to draw annoyed looks from half the audience. the advertisements flashed by one after another until eventually the first preview appeared.

“finally,” michael muttered. the trailer began with dramatic music and a car speeding down a highway. within thirty seconds, the audience had been promised explosions, car chases, and at least three different scenes involving somebody jumping through a window.

you leaned toward michael. “that looked terrible.”

“you’re impossible to please.”

“it looked terrible.”

his shoulder bumped yours. the next preview wasn’t much better. a comedy this time. then another action movie. then a romance that earned a dramatic groan from someone in the audience. you found yourself becoming distracted from the horror movie entirely.

until suddenly, the screen faded to black. the lights in the theater dimmed completely, and a hush settled across the room. your stomach dropped.

beside you, michael smiled. you didn’t even have to look at him to know it. his grin only widened. the opening notes of the score echoed through the theater as the movie began.

the movie had apparently decided to stop being subtle. one jump scare turned into two. then three. every time you started convincing yourself you were fine, the soundtrack would suddenly go quiet and somebody would wander into a dark room alone.

which was never a good sign. the latest victim was slowly making his way through the basement of the house, so you already knew something was going to happen.

you just didn’t know when. which somehow made it worse. your fingers tightened around a handful of popcorn when the character took another step followed by two more.

the theater was completely silent, then something lunged out of the darkness. you jumped. not dramatically, but it was enough for michael to notice. the popcorn nearly slipped from your hand.

beside you, michael’s shoulders shook. you immediately turned your head. his hand was covering his mouth. trying, yet failing not to laugh. you rolled your eyes which only made his expression only became more amused.

“don’t.” the whisper barely left your lips.

michael leaned slightly closer. “i didn’t do anything.”

you stared at him. he stared back as if he was completely innocent. you looked away first. mostly because you were trying not to smile. you turned your attention back to the movie, and unfortunately it only got worse.

the house seemed darker now, and the music felt more unsettling. every hallway looked the same. every shadow looked suspicious. at one point, you found yourself instinctively leaning closer whenever something tense happened. not enough to notice at first. just a few inches, but it felt familiar.

it wasn’t until michael shifted slightly and your arm brushed against his that you realized what you’d been doing. he noticed too. of course he did. you could practically feel his smile.

without taking his eyes off the screen, he quietly moved the popcorn a little farther away. creating space between the armrests. the gesture was so casual it almost looked accidental. you rolled your eyes. but you didn’t move away.

a moment later, another loud noise exploded through the speakers. your shoulders jumped. and this time, michael finally lost the battle against his grin. the jerk.

you shot him a look. even in the darkness, you could see the amusement written all over his face. “don’t.” the warning came out as little more than a whisper.

his grin only widened. you rolled your eyes and turned back toward the screen. unfortunately, that was your first mistake. because the movie only seemed determined to get worse.

the story had moved deeper into the house now, and the lights barely worked. plus half the characters had either disappeared or died. and every hallway seemed to stretch on forever. the tension never let up.

every scene felt like it was waiting for something. the audience had gone completely silent. every now and then, somebody would gasp or somebody else would jump.

but otherwise the entire theater remained still. you found yourself sitting farther forward than before. your attention locked on the screen despite yourself. a floorboard would creak, or a door would slowly open. nothing major happened.

then another scene. another hallway. another terrible decision made by another character who clearly had no interest in surviving. you pressed your lips together. the music faded. your stomach immediately sank. you hated when the music faded.

it always meant something was coming. then, the main character slowly lifted a flashlight. the beam swept across an empty room. nothing. across another corner. nothing. then one more, thats when the figure appeared so suddenly that the entire theater reacted at once.

a chorus of gasps filled the room. you jumped hard enough that your shoulder knocked into michael’s. before you could even think about it, your hand grabbed onto his sleeve.

just for a second. just long enough to recover. then you immediately let go, pretending it never happened. pretending like your heart wasn’t racing, even pretending michael hadn’t noticed.

you looked over, he had definitely noticed. the smile was back. smaller this time and less teasing, yet more amused. you narrowed your eyes. he lifted both hands slightly in surrender. like he was innocent, and completely not at fault for you being so scared.

you turned your attention back to the movie, despite your best efforts, you found yourself drifting closer every time something tense happened. it wasn’t intentional. at least, that’s what you told yourself. but eventually your arm was pressed against his. and neither of you moved away.

another scare hit and it made you flinch. michael’s arm immediately shifted against yours in a comforting way. you hated how much that helped. for the next few minutes, you focused less on the movie and more on convincing yourself you weren’t scared.

which worked right up until the movie’s final act. the house was burning. people were screaming. even the soundtrack had become one long nightmare. and just when it seemed like everything was finally over, but the movie pulled one last trick.

the audience relaxed, so did the characters relaxed. even you relaxed. then the screen exploded with one final scare. you gasped. your hand shot out, and this time you didn’t grab his sleeve. you grabbed his arm. holding on without even realizing it.

for a second, all you could hear was your own heartbeat. then slowly, painfully, you became aware of two things. the first was that you were still holding onto michael, and the second was that michael looked entirely too pleased about it.

your eyes met. his grin appeared immediately. you groaned under your breath. and despite the fact that the movie wasn’t even over yet, you already knew you were never hearing the end of this. fortunately for you, michael seemed more interested in watching the movie than embarrassing you. for now.

you turned your attention back to the screen, determined to pretend the last thirty seconds had never happened. the problem was that your hand was still wrapped around his arm. and the longer you thought about it, the more aware of it you became. the sleeve of his jacket beneath your fingers.

the warmth of his arm. the fact that he definitely knew you were still holding on. heat crept into your cheeks. slowly, you loosened your grip. immediately, another loud sound echoed through the theater. your fingers tightened right back up.

beside you, michael’s shoulders shook. you closed your eyes, it was unbelievable. the movie’s final act seemed determined to test your patience. every time it looked like the characters had escaped, something else happened. another reason for absolutely everyone involved to leave the house and never come back.

by now, the audience was completely invested. people gasped, and someone muttered an anxious “nope” from a few rows behind you. and honestly? you agreed. the main character was making terrible decisions. as usual.

the climax finally arrived in a blur of shouting, rain, flashing lights, and dramatic music. you found yourself sitting forward despite everything. completely invested and stressed. and still holding onto michael.

the house burned, and people were screaming. the villain was defeated. then came the suspiciously happy ending. you immediately narrowed your eyes. there was no way it was over.

horror movies never ended that easily. sure enough, one final scare hit right before the credits. the entire theater reacted at once. you jumped, again. and somewhere beside you, michael finally laughed. it wasn’t loud, but it was just enough for you to hear it.

“i hate you,” you whispered.

“no, you don’t.”

the smile in his voice was impossible to miss. before you could come up with a response, the screen faded to black. the credits began to roll, and all around you, people started moving. conversations returned. the spell of the movie finally broke.

for a moment, neither of you stood. then michael looked down. you followed his gaze, it was straight on your hand which was still attached to his arm. your eyes widened. immediately, you let go. michael’s grin became absolutely unbearable.

“don’t start.”

“i didn’t say anything.”

“you’re about to.”

“i’m not.” he was lying and you could tell. which meant the ride home was going to be a nightmare.

the parking lot was noticeably quieter than the theater lobby.

most people had already started heading home, disappearing into rows of cars beneath the glow of the streetlights. somewhere in the distance, you could still hear conversations about the movie, people arguing over the ending and whether it had actually been scary.

you personally thought the answer to that question was obvious. it had been terrifying. you would not be accepting further discussion. unfortunately, michael seemed determined to continue the discussion anyway. the grin hadn’t left his face once, not in the lobby, and not even when you guys were leaving the theater.

and certainly not now. “michael, quit it.”

he laughed immediately. “i didn’t say anything.”

“you were about to.”

“i wasn’t.”

liar. you shot him a look as the two of you reached the car. michael only looked more amused. the worst part was that he wasn’t even being mean about it. if anything, he seemed entirely too pleased with himself. like he’d just witnessed the greatest moment of his life.

“you grabbed my arm.”

you groaned. there it was.

“michael.”

“you did.”

“i know.”

“and then you didn’t let go.”

“stop talking.”

his laughter echoed through the nearly empty parking lot. it was warm and familiar. the kind of laugh that always made it impossible to stay annoyed with him for very long. which was incredibly unfair.

“you were scared.”

“i was startled.”

“baby.”

“there’s a difference.”

“mhm.”

he was absolutely impossible. before you could continue arguing, michael stepped closer, the teasing smile gradually softening into something gentler. something that immediately made your heart start acting ridiculous.

“for the record,” he said, “i liked that you held onto me.”

your entire train of thought derailed. completely.

“what?”

his smile widened slightly. “i liked it.”

heat immediately rushed to your face. “don’t say things like that.”

“why?”

because then he looked at you like that. because then your stomach did annoying little flips. because then it became impossible to remember whatever argument you’d been trying to make five seconds earlier. you looked away. which only made him laugh again.

a second later, gentle fingers caught your hand. you glanced down as his hand slipped into yours. he’d held your hand a thousand times before. somehow it still affected you every single time.

“c’mere.”

suspicion immediately filled your entire body.

“why?”

“just c’mere.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“please?”

you rolled your eyes, but you stepped closer anyway. immediately, michael leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. it was gentle, and made your stomach feel warm. your argument vanished. completely.

when he pulled back, he looked entirely too proud of himself. “that’s cheating.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yes, you do.”

his grin returned, it was bright and victorious. and despite every intention of staying annoyed with him, you felt yourself smiling. unfortunately, michael noticed.

“there she is.”

you groaned.

“get in the car.”

his laughter followed you the entire way to the passenger door. the second you reached the door, he pulled it open with an exaggerated flourish. you stared at him. he bowed.

“your ride, ma’am.”

you rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and yet you’re getting in the car.”

unfortunately, he had a point. you shook your head and slid into the passenger seat. before you could say anything else, michael gently pushed the door closed.

a moment later, he disappeared around the front of the car. through the windshield, you watched him climb into the driver’s seat, still looking entirely too pleased with himself.

the door shut. for a second, neither of you spoke. the parking lot lights filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow across the inside of the car. then michael turned toward you. and immediately smiled.

“what?” you asked, noticing that he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

“you look really pretty.” that nearly made you lose it. and somehow, despite everything, it made you smile too. the drive home could wait another minute because the next thing you knew, he pulled you in for another kiss.

this time it was more urgent, making you guys forget where you were really at. by the time you pulled away, you realized you were practically straddling his lap. the both of you basically panting, as he laughed. “baby, we should probably wait till we get home.”

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