Dangerous era Michael x black reader
Warnings: none, just fluff and taking care of your man.
It's quiet, only the two of you in the room soaking in the calm and soothing sounds of the night.
Prompt. "I always feel calmer when you're around."
A/N: Thoughts and constructive feedback is much appreciated, but like Erykah, I'm sensitive about my ish so come correct peeps. This is me dipping my foot back into writing and into a new fandom. Enjoy!
It was serene really, being in the quiet, dark, peaceful kitchen with no one buzzing around asking questions, directing him to do this or that, or pulling him in a million different directions.
Michael picked up the slightly scalding hot mug and brought the rim to his lips before pursing them to lightly blow on the chamomile tea heâd fixed only a mere 15 minutes ago. The golden yellow liquid was supposed to be soothing and help put him at ease, however, it wasnât seemingly doing the trick. Michael raised his hand and tucked a few strands of his black hair behind his ear. With an easy sigh, he brought the mug to his lips and took a tentative sip.
The immediate warmth from the golden liquid filled his chest and the knot of tension began to ease within. Humming with content, Michael took another careful sip of the tea before placing the mug back in front of him on the counter and settling more comfortably in his stool.
It was during these quiet moments, that Michael was able to turn his brain off if only for a few minutes and pretend he wasnât the King of Pop or the most decorated Black vocal artist, but just Michael. You take away the songs, the fame, the dancing and what did you have underneath? A man from Gary, Indiana with a large family, feelings of insecurity, worry if he was enough and how to navigate such a brightly shining star that was in no way dimming any time soon.
Those were dangerous thoughts to have at times and he couldnât imagine navigating them alone or without his support system. Speaking of whichâŚ.
Soft footfalls could be heard coming closer as if a thief was creeping away from the scene of the crime. Coming from his right side, near the rounded archway of the kitchen, there you stood wearing the long sleeve ruby red silk pajama shirt that matched the silk pants Michael wore.
He took your appearance in; pajama shirt hem stopping mid thigh, silk scarf tied around your head to protect your doobie wrap, a pair of plush , cream colored house shoes on your feet and a soft but gentle expression on your face. You were his whole heart in human form and he thanked Jehovah for you every day.
Michael turned his torso to fully capture you in his gaze.
âHey mama, what are you doing out of bed? You ok?â He asked you while wrapping one of his large hands around his mug once again.
Walking closer to the island and essentially to Michael, you placed a hand on your hip before answering.
A small yawn escaped, parting your full lips. âBaby, you asking me why Iâm out of bed and knowing full well Iâm a light sleeper. You werenât next to me and so I came looking,â You were now within Michaelâs orbit and reached out a hand to smooth your thumb over his cheek. The tip of your long square shaped acrylic nail softly grazed him and tickled just a bit causing your man to let out a child like giggle and you gave him a subtle grin.
Taking the last few steps which would bring you directly in front of Michael, you moved closer and instantly his long legs were bracketing your body.
âEvery time.â He shook his head, slightly embarrassed that your nails still made him overly sensitive even though he should be used to the sensation by now. âI just wanted to take in the moment before coming to bed.â Michael hummed before tilting his head up slightly and capturing your lips in an unhurried kiss.
You knew how rare these moments were especially being a part of the Jackson family and ultimately the wife of THEE Michael Jackson. Today had been a wonderful first day of relaxation and you were so grateful that Michael could relax and be himself at home with you.
The pressure and stress of recording albums, creating choreography, and the constant interviews was damn exhausting. Letâs not even mention the toll it took on your sweet and gorgeous man cause if you could tell the world to back up and give him 50 feet you would gladly do so in a heartbeat.
You glanced over toward the mug that Michael had a loose hold on now and took inventory of the amber liquid. âChamomile I take it.â It was more statement than question cause you knew your man like you knew the lyrics to Mary Jâs âLove No Limit.â
Michael ducked his head but not before you saw that slow, easy grin slide onto his face. âYou know me well donât you girl?â He smirked before also glancing at the mug.
âThought it would help soothe me and get me to settle all the energy inside so I could get some sleep.â He brought both arms to settle around your waist has his elegant and long fingers clasped together at the small of your back.
Your hands rested on his broad shoulders and you couldnât help but admire the beautiful difference in your skin tones. If only people took time to learn what they didnât understand, instead of criticizing and assuming, it would make the world a better place. Â
Michael was a proud Black man and couldnât help the attack his body was under from having vitiligo, so the tabloids and even people in his own community were having mixed feelings and forming their own opinions about his appearance. You thought Michael was the most beautiful man youâd ever seen and told him so every day.
Raising your honey brown eyes to meet his chocolate brown ones, you looked him straight in the eyes, âI love you and I adore you, you talented and beautiful man. However I need you to finish your tea and come get some rest baby.â
Michael leaned his forehead against yours and gradually let out a breath and felt the rest of the knot heâd been holding finally release. His fingers unclasped and now held your waist in a firm hold as he gently squeezed your sides as if he was grounding himself in your presence alone.
âI always feel calmer when youâre around.â
Pulling back, Michael pursed his lips in a familiar way that let you know he was fishing for a kiss. Tangling your fingers in the hairs at the nape of his neck, you moved in and placed a soft kiss against his inviting lips and caught just a hint of chamomille. Tugging his juicy bottom lip gently, you pulled it in between your plump light brown lips and sucked it in.
Michael hissed and on instinct his fingers clenched against your hips and slowly moved to rest just above the dip of your behind. You held his bottom lip hostage for a  few extra seconds before releasing it with a soft pop.
Keeping steady eye contact, you laid one, two, three gentle kisses against Michaelâs lips before nodding your head toward the mug that was by now all but abandoned on the kitchen island.
By the look on your husbandâs face, he was smitten and eating up the affection like the ham he was. He glanced over at the now cooled tea and within seconds his decision was made.
Standing up and without releasing his hold on your waist, he bent his head down near your ear.
âThe teaâs not gonna cut it now mama.â Michael moved his hands to tap against your butt twice and turned you toward the same arched doorway youâd entered a short while ago.
You couldnât help but grin as you giggled a bit and breathlessly drew out his name, âMichaaael!â
With you both moving out of the kitchen and back toward your shared bedroom, the lone mug of chamomile tea was forgotten in the midst of whispered promises, soft glances, and loving caresses.
