Plan3tCh1ld

A smirk crept on your face as you glanced towards your peacefully sleeping boyfriend.

Should you or should you not? You sat and debated for a few seconds. He just looked so calm and comfortable….yeah, you definitely should do it.

He had the thick blanket pulled up to his nose, you would’ve thought he couldn’t breathe. He always complained about being cold so this was no surprise.

You swiped to the camera app and started recording. The flash automatically turned on making the bright light shine on the bed. You turned the camera toward Jermajesty.

He shifted from the blinding light interrupting the dark sight of the back of his eyelids. “Maj.” you whispered tapping him. He hesitantly opened his eyes, his hand reaching from under the covers to block the harsh light.

“Girl, the hell is you doing?” He mumbled, voice deep. “I want it.” You told him.

Still in a daze, your voice sounded muffled to him. “Huh?”

“Maj, I want it.” You whined, hands tugging the covers from off his face.

“Need to turn that damn light off,” his face scrunched up. “And want what?”

“Stop playing, I want it.” You stifled a laugh, purposely rubbing your hand across his bare chest.

He blinked a few times, registering what you said. “You want it now?” he wondered.

You nodded, “I want it now.” You watched his eyebrows raise, and paused for a moment before shrugging.

“Shit, come on then.” His thumbs hooked on the waistband of his sweatpants, aiming to tug them down.

“Boy, what you doing?” You asked, voice raising a bit higher as if you were genuinely concerned. Your hand flew out to stop him from flashing the camera.

A look of confusion covered his face, his attention bouncing from your hand to your face. “You said you want it.”

“Yea, I want my ice cream from downstairs.” You told him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He smacked his teeth, finally putting two and two together.

“I got some ice cream for you right here. Now turn that camera off.”

The office smelled of strong, freshly made coffee, cigarets and newly printed newspaper. Phones rang every two minutes, typewriters clicked frantically and people walked around without looking where they were going as they read their new drafts.

Y/N could feel it before she even heard it. She simply massaged her temples and threw Michael, who sat in the office table across her, a ‘please, save me’ look.He snickered at her.

“L/N!” J. Jonah’s voice rang throughout the Daily Bugle office. “How’s the Spider-Man piece going?” His head popped out of his office door, a frenetic expression on his face.

Michael stifled a laugh as he watched the scene unfold before him, and that earned him a glare from his girlfriend. He looked down at his camera and bit his bottom lip, trying to hide another smile.

“It’s done, Jonah. I left it at your table this morning.” Y/N replied with a tense smile, pointing towards his office.

“Did you, now?” He mumbled, wandering back into his office. Y/N just stared after him.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment, counting to three in order to get it together. Her boss had the tendency of making her lose her temper a little bit.

After a few seconds of counting, she opened her eyes and was met by the most beautiful pair of big brown eyes she had ever seen: her boyfriend’s. Michael stood in front of her desk with a tiny smile on his face, as he usually did. He wore s pair of capri cream pants and a maroon sweater. Y/N felt as is she could take a bite out of him right on the spot. So, obviously, she said the first thing that popped int her mind:

“What’s up, Bambi?”

“Bambi?” He questioned, looking actually confused.

“Mhm,” She got up from her chair, pressing her palms flat against the desk and leaning towards him. “With those pretty brown eyes.” She glanced briefly to see if anyone was watching and stole a little kiss from him. Michael felt blood rushing into his cheeks, a warm feeling taking over him. He held his breath for a split second before looking at Y/N, shaking his head negatively with a grin.

“Are you ready for lunch? I heard Mr Delmar has the good stuff today.” Michael finally asked, grabbing Y/N’s coat from her desk and motioning to the exit with his head. “Turkey sandwich heaven. Your favorite!” He extended the coat, motioning for her to pass her arms through it as he held it open.

Y/N put one of her arms through the sleeve, a content sight escaping her. “Thank goodness. After everything Jonah put me through today, I could use a big, fat—“

“Jackson! L/N!” A loud, authority voice cut her off mid-sentence. The couple exchanged a glance before turning around to where J. Jonah stood, a cigar between his fingers and that usual look of chaos on his face. “Bank robbery! Need both of you covering.” He pointed the cigar at them. “With any luck Spider-Man will show up.” He didn’t even wait for a response, just walked back into his office blabbering some nonsense and slammed the door shut.

‘Oh, no.’ Michael gulped.

Y/N looked up at him. “Well, so much for lunch, huh?”

Michael let out a nervous little laugh and nodded, eyes wide. He needed a plan ASAP.

“I, uh— I just need to make a phone call.” He blurted out. “Meet downstairs in five?”

“Uh huh.” Y/N nodded. “I’m gonna grab my bag and some notepads.” She added, already making her way to the supply room. Michael gave her one last nervous smiled and sprinted to his desk.

He grabbed the phone and dialed in the number in a rush. The line rang a few times (the longest three rings of his entire life, Michael would later say) before Bill picked up.

“Hello—“

“Bill, I need a favor!”

🕸️ྀི

Michael felt his palms getting sweaty as he walked side by side with Y/N. Lucky for him, she had her hands tucked inside her pockets due to the cold weather. He took a look around, trying to get it together. Failed.

His senses left him completely overwhelmed.

Every conversation bled into the next. Sirens wailed somewhere across New York. A taxi horn blared three blocks away. The sweet scent of fresh flowers drifted from a nearby florist, only to be swallowed by cigarette smoke and the warm smell of fresh bread from the bakery across the street. He could hear hurried footsteps, racing heartbeats, distant crying. He could almost feel it all, too: the anxiety, the grief, the anger clinging to strangers as they brushed past him. Every sight, every sound, every smell crashed into him at once, his heightened senses refusing to filter any of it. His senses refused to let anything go unnoticed.

By the time Y/N finished speaking, he realized he hadn’t heard a single word she’d said.

“Earth to Mike.” Y/N stood in front of him while shaking her hand in front of his face, trying to grab his attention. He snapped out of it and gulped before offering her a nervous smile. She stared at him. “Hey, you okay?”

He nodded slightly and tried to offer her another smile. “Yeah, ma.”

She threw an accusatory look at him. “You sure, Mike?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” He brushed it off and threw one arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “What were you just saying, hm?”

“I was just saying we’re almost there. Just one more block, I think.” She enlaced her fingers with his as his hand hung off her shoulder.

Michael took a quick look around, searching for Bill. “Yeah, right.”

Y/N looked up at him for a second. “Do you think he’ll show up?” She couldn’t help but asking, her mind wandering to Spider-Man. She hoped he would.

“Bill? Oh, I'm not sure...” He answered with a shrug.

Y/N frowned. “What does Bill have to do with anything I just said?” Confused laced her voice. She shook her head. “I am obviously talking about Spider-Man!”

Michael finally looked at her at that sentence. “Spider-Man?” He blurted out. “Oh, I don’t know I—“

He got cut off by two cops that sprinted past them.

The couple stared after at them, Michael focusing on what one was saying over the radio.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Hostages negotiations have already began and they’re armed to the teeth—”

“Hostages...” Michael mumbled under his breath. He needed to hurry up. “Uh, baby?”

“Mhm?”

“I need to uh, set up the camera.” He motioned to the device hanging from his neck from the leather belt.

“Oh, right.” She shook her head slightly. “Yeah, I figured. I have to go interview civilians and authorities in the perimeter, too.”

Michael allowed himself a moment to look down at her.

To anyone nearby, it looked life a boyfriend staring lovingly at his girlfriend. Which, in some level, was. But also it was so much more than that. It was Michael about to go risk his life and silently praying for the universe to not take her from him while he was doing what he was meant to do. It was Spider-Man pleading for any higher force to not take away his anchor.

“Promise to stay safe?” He asked in a quiet voice, eyes locked on Y/N’s. He tried to memorize every single detail in her.

She smiled. “Always.” She said, nodding. “Stay safe too, okay?

Michael let out a breathy laugh and nodded. “Will try my best.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you, okay?”

“I love you more, Mike.” She closed the space between them with a quick peck on the lips. When they pulled away though, Michael pulled her closer again by their still enlaced finger and gave her a proper kiss.

Y/N thought his lips felt like heaven. Soft and warm and sweet. He caressed her lips with his tongue before deepening the kiss. Y/N sighed into his mouth and took her free hand to the nape of his neck, fingers running through his curls.

The kiss ended with a couple of lighter kisses over each other’s lips. “I love you.” Michael repeated one more time before stepping back, Y/N still holding his hand.

Well, at least he thought she was holding his hand.

Y/N frowned. She could’ve sworn she had just released her grasp over his fingers in order for them to go their separate ways. But when she glanced down at their hands, the sight made her very confused: Michael’s palm placed flat against hers. No finger enlaced. No hand holding the other. It almost looked like they were… stuck?

Michael followed her gaze down, eyes widening a bit at the sight.

‘Dang it!’, he thought.

Sometines, whenever he got nervous, his spider abilities went through the roof. At times it was the webs—he couldn’t move his hands too harshly or they would start shooting at every and any thing. Sometimes it was the super strength—he still recalled breaking Y/N’s handle, lamp and bed frame the first time they had been together. At other times it was this—he got stuck. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that knew about Spider-Man that he could walk on vertical surfaces, hang from buildings and moving vehicles, among other things. And, when he got nervous, he got sticky. Which led up to this precise moment where he physically couldn’t move his hand away.

“Mike?” Y/N looked up at him with confusion.

Michael let out a nervous laugh before shaking their hands together slightly. “Static electricity , huh?”

Y/N looked very unimpressed, but at the same time very confused. “I guess…” She mumbled with a small shrug.

‘Get it together, man.’ Michael told himself as he reached for their joint hands with his free one, peeling one finger from hers at the time. When he reached the last finger—pinky, to be precise—it came off with a pop. He let out a tiny laugh.

“That was weird.” She mumbled, gazing at her palm while holding her own wrist . “Well, gotta go.” She blurted out after a few moments, placed a quick kiss on Michael’s cheek and made her way into the crowd before them. “Stay out of trouble!” She shouted without looking back.

Michael ran his hands through his pants in nervousness, eyes not leaving Y/N as she walked away. That was until he spotted another familiar face already making its way into the crowd after her. Bill.

Michael felt his shoulder loosening up a little. He let out a shaky breath and offered Bill a nod. “Thank you.” He silently mouthed.

Bill just nodded back at him.

Michael immediately ducked into an alley just across from where he previously stood. He looked around in a rush, just to make sure no one was watching and dropped his bag on the ground, beginning to wiggle out of his sweater.

He changed so fast he almost walked out with the mask facing backwards.

He looked back to the chaos that waited for him, took a deep breath and a few quick jumps, warming up and trying to ease up his nerves.

“Alright.” He reached out for the fabric hanging on his forehead and pulled the mask down.

Spider-Man was on his way.

🕸️ྀི

“AWO!” Spider-Man’s voice echoed through the buildings of Manhattan as he swung above the streets.

Y/N smiled up at the sight, shielding her eyes from the sunlight with a hand. She turned her attention back to the civilians, searching for her next interview or for someone in need lf help.

“Y/N!” Bill’s voice rang in her ears, grabbing her attention.

“Bill? What are you doing here?” She frowned before giving him a quick hug. She absolutely loved Bill. Couldn’t possibly know why he was there at that precise moment, but she was grateful for it nonetheless.

Bill had worked at the Daily Bugle longer than anyone could remember. He'd reported on everything from blackouts to mayoral elections, and whenever Jonah wasn't breathing down her neck, he was usually the one slipping her advice over bad coffee and stale donuts. He also was some sort of father figure for Michael, always being there when and wherever he needed. Y/N was very grateful.

"Thought I'd rescue you from another terrible angry cop interview.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, so you’ve been reading the Bugle?"

"I've been reading you ask all the wrong questions."

She gasped dramatically, a hand flying and clutching her chest. "I do not ask the wrong questions."

“Oh, sweetie, you do."

"I absolutely do not!”

Bill pointed toward a shaken bank employee sitting on the curb.

"Come on."

He started walking, Y/N trailing behind him.

"Watch and learn, kiddo.”

They stopped in front of the woman and Bill crouched slightly.

"I'm Bill, with the Daily Bugle."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but starting taking notes nevertheless.

🕸️ྀི

When Michael crashed through the skylight of the bank the crime scene was set. His eyes swept across the room.

Four men armed to the teeth wearing balaclavas stood separately while about fifteen civilians sat on the ground with their writs bound. Bank workers were tied up on the other corner. Children and elders were placed behind a wood counter.

Still, he tilted his head to the side with unnerving calm. He raised both his hands. The men just stared at him while pointing their guns at him. The closest one held a riffle up to Michael’s eye level.

“Now hold on, you guys. No one needs to get hurt here today.” He began.

“Spider-thing, we’re gonna need you to leave. Or else…” Riffle man threatened, getting the barrel closer to Michael’s face.

Michael, bless him, let the sass get the best out of him. “Spider-thing? Oh, you wound me…” He simply raised a hand a lowered the gun, a cocky grin spreading across his masked face. “AWO!”

With that, he fired a web at two guns at the same time; the one being held closer to him and the other across from where he stood. He jumped and flipped back, while firing another web.

He crouched on top of a marble pilar in the center of the bank, civilians staring in awe at their savior. But before he was able to take down another armed guy, one of them fired, the bullet grazing his left arm. “Ouch!” He yelled. “Okay, that hurt a little.” He mumbled, checking his bicep. Only a scratch, but it managed to draw some blood and rip his suit.

One of the men swung a metal pipe onto him, hitting him in the ribs. Michael let out a huff of breath before launching himself into the wall across the room, taking the man down with a quick on the face. “Sorry!” He yelled after at the sight of the man’s bloody nose. “Well, not really.” He mumbled under his breath.

He turned to the scene unfolding before him, throwing himself gracefully onto the ground. Two guys came for him at the same time, and the fight resumed.

Punches, scratches, webs. Michael managed to swing away from their gunshots.

“HEE HEE!” He shriked before landing smoothly on the ground.

His eyes traveled to a little boy who had his bottom lip trembling. One of the criminals was making his way to him with a gun in hand and a nasty look on his face. Michael threw himself between them and tackled the man to the ground, webbing him so he wouldn’t be able to move.

He looked down at the boy and crouched until they were at eye level. “Hey, buddy.” The boy sniffled. “You were really brave, you know that, right?” Michael brushed one of his tears away with the back of his hand.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Y-yeah, mister Spider-Man!” He said with the bravery of a determined six year old.

Michael chuckled. “Stay right here with your mom until the police tell you it’s okay.”

The boy nodded.

Michael held out his hand for him to shake. “Deal?”

The little boy managed the tiniest, toothless smile before reaching out and shaking Spider-Man’s hand.

“Deal!”

Finally, it seemed that he managed to stop all of the bad men. He felt sore, bloody and tired. But also relieved. He placed both hands on his waist and took a look around just as policemen started to enter the perimeter. He was just starting to breathe.

That was until he felt the hair at the nape of his neck standing up. A cold feeling rushed through him and he felt every muscle in his body tensing up. His heartbeat lurched. There was only one thing and one thing only that had that effect on him.

The certainty that she was in danger took over him. He had to get to her.

Michael didn’t think. Before he could even process what was happening, he was already swinging through the same skylight he came.

🕸️ྀི

Meanwhile, Bill and Y/N had managed to interview a few more people. The latest was a cop who was giving Y/N a piece of his mind on his thoughts on Spider-Man.

“Well, but shouldn’t you be a little more grateful to, you know… have some help?”

The cop shook his head and ran his fingers through his thick mustache. “You hear me, young lady, eh? That guy is a punk! He runs around wearing that ridiculous costume of his doin’ our job, thinking he has ANY right to—”

Y/N and Bill exchanged a tired glance, silently telling each other to wrap it up with that guy. But before either of them could say anything a sound of tires screeching and a worrying BANG cut them off.

Steel groaned. The ground shook. A veil of dust blurred everyone’s vision. People started to scream. The cop fell over the crosswalk. Y/N was already reaching down to help him when Bill looked up. His complexion immediately changed. His eyes traveled back to the journalist before him.

“Y/N!”

She only had time to look up and realized the sun had disappeared over her. Her body froze and her eyes widened: a massive piece of steel came crashing down to exactly where she stood.

She closed her eyes shut, waiting for the impact. But it never came.

Next thing she knew, air was knocked out of her lungs and she swung thought the Manhattan skyline. A strong arm was wrapped her waist, keeping her close and secure. “I got you.”

When Y/N opened her eyes and was met by no other than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

He swung them through the buildings with his free hand, dogging the collapsing building remains.

Somehow, through all that, Y/N noticed his arm had a bloody wound. Sharp, straight and precise. “Y-Your arm is bleeding.” She pointed out bluntly, like she hadn’t been almost turned into pancakes a few seconds ago.

Spider-Man looked down at her. He scoffed. “You almost got crushed by a steel beam and this is your first thought?”

Y/N didn’t reply. Just kept staring at his blue mask. She noticed the right eye lens of it had a crack.

Michael felt her body shaking against his. He felt his heart sinking into his chest.

‘She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay’, he kept telling himself over and over again. He was breathing so hard Y/N could hear it through the mask.

“You okay?” He finally managed to ask as they approached the ground where it was safe. He lowered them down with gentleness, arm not leaving the grip on her waist.

Y/N hesitated, but nodded after a moment. “I—uh,” She shook her head, feeling her mind hazy. She hadn’t really processed what just happened in the last minute. “My boyfriend. I gotta find him.” She started to wander away without further explanation, looking at some point behind of Spider-Man.

Michael felt his heart sinking even further into his chest. ‘I’m right here, mama.’ He wanted to say. God, how he wanted to say. All he wanted was to hold her and tell her she was okay. He clenched his jaw.

Y/N stopped on her tracks after a few steps, turning back to Spider-Man. “T-Thank you, for—“ She motioned to nowhere in particular. “You know.” She nodded. “Thank you, Spider-Man.”

Michael bit his bottom lip. He felt his eyes stinging a little bit as he stared at her. She was in shock. “No problem, ma’am.” He tried to keep his tone lower than usual, so she wouldn’t recognize it. “I’m sure your boyfriend is okay.”

Y/N simply nodded and turned around again, proceeding to walk away from him.

Michael watched her go. And when she was finally out of his sight, he let out a huff of air and grabbed a streetlight that stood tall next to him.

He leaned on it and closed his eyes. His breath was uneven and one gloved hand traveled to his tight chest. He felt like he couldn’t breath properly.

‘She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.’

🕸️ྀི

Y/N’s eyes kept glancing everywhere, scanning around for Michael.

She asked a few firefighters if they’d seen him. Policemen. Paramedics.

“Have you seen a photographer? About this tall, curly hair, red sweater.” She had asked, desperately. “His name is Michael.”

Nobody had seen him.

At some point the sun started to go down and Y/N sat down on the crosswalk. Her heart was racing on her chest and her mind had a million thoughts rushing through. All about Michael.

“There you are!” A familiar voice rang through her ears, which broke her train thoughts.

Y/N looked up and saw Bill.

She let out a shaky breath and got up, throwing her arms around him.

“Have you seen—

“No, kiddo.” He answered before she finished. He pulled away from the hug, but kept and arm over her shoulder, starting to lead the way. “I’m sure Mike’s okay.” He nodded down at her. “Now let’s get you home, okay?” He ran his hand over her arm, trying to warm her up.

But Y/N didn’t want to go home. She wanted Michael.

🕸️ྀི

The drive was quiet. Y/N kept looking out of the window, hoping and praying to catch a glimpse of the face she was looking out for.

Bill kept gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual, guilt starting to eat him away. ‘If only Michael would tell her…’ He kept thinking.

When they reached her house, Bill made sure she was alright before leaving. Y/N assured him and he left after some insistence.

An hour passed. Almost two, now. Y/N felt as if she could feel every second passing.

She sat on the couch with a comforter draped over her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the static dancing across the television screen.

Shock had a funny way of delaying itself.

At the time, she’d been too busy looking for Michael to process what had almost happened. But now, in the silence of her apartment, it finally caught up with her.

She could’ve died today.

The realization settled somewhere deep inside her, quiet but suffocating. Life wasn’t something you could plan or bargain with. Sometimes it changed in the space of a heartbeat.

Y/N started to reach for the remote, needing to distract her mind, when she noticed her hands were shaking. She clasped them together took them to her lips, blowing hot air at it. The remained in that position for a few seconds.

A soft knock on her window snapped her out of her thoughts. She frowned and turned slowly toward her fire escape.

“Oh my god.” She mumbled under her breath, the comforter slipping from her shoulders as she scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping over it in her rush to reach the window.

Michael stood outside, one shoulder slumped against the brick wall, barely keeping himself upright. His curls were damp and disheveled, one eye already beginning to swell beneath a bruise. His split lip curled into a small, sheepish smile the moment their eyes met.

Y/N’s hands trembled badly as she struggled to open the window, and when she finally she fell angry for about two seconds as she stared at him. How dare he disappear on her like that?

“You—” But then, at the sight of a bruised eye, upper lip split with dried blood over it and his torn maroon sweater, the anger went away as quickly as it came.

She opened her arms.

Michael let out the smallest breath of relief before collapsing into her. The impact nearly knocked Y/N off balance, her feet stumbling backwards as she wrapped both arms around Michael tightly.

She held him as though letting go might make him disappear again and guided them back to the couch. He dropped onto it with a groan and pulled her to him, holding her closer and burying his face on her shoulder

“You have no idea how happy I am that you’re okay.” She mumbled, her voice muffled by his arm as he held her. “I thought…” Her voice broke and she stopped mid sentence.

Michael felt awful. His eyes fluttered shut. “I’m here,” He whispered. “I’m here, ma.” He placed a kiss the top of her head and hold her tighter. “You’re okay.” He whispered. Another kiss. “I’m right here with you.” He kissed her forehead one more time, his eyes getting glossy again.

Y/N sniffled and leaned back to look at him, taking in the sight of her bruised boyfriend. She shook her head faintly and cupped his cheeks gently, careful not to touch the bloody mess. She examined his face for a second longer before closing the gap between them with a kiss.

Michael kissed her back immediately. Relief washed over him so completely he almost melted into her. He deepened the kiss just enough to linger, letting out a quiet breath he had been holding all day long against her lips.

She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.

“You scared me, Mike” Y/N admitted when they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other’s. She pulled further away after she didn’t get an reply from him. “I looked everywhere for you.”

Michael felt his blood running cold. He froze.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Silence. His mouth parted, but the answer never came.

Silence settled heavily between them.

Y/N searched his face for something. An explanation. An excuse. A reassurance. Anything. Instead, all she found were tired brown eyes that looked just as shaken as she felt.

She let out a humorless laugh, blinking back fresh tears.

“That’s it?”

The hurt in her voice cut deeper than any bruise he’d earned that day.

But Michael didn’t know what to say. He only felt his heart beating on his chest and his mind racing at the possibilities of what could’ve happened on that day. He could still feel the weight of her in his arms. The terror in her voice when she’d thanked him. The way she’d walked away searching for him while he’d stood there unable to tell her she had already found him.

Every apology he wanted to give died behind his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered at last.

She let out a sigh and placed a hand on his chin, gently turning his face toward the light so she could inspect his injuries. Michael let her.

“Come.” She said quietly, getting up from the couch and making her way to the bathroom where her first aid kit was. He obeyed immediately and followed after, groaning in pain as he got up.

Michael set on the sink, Y/N standing between his spread knees with a wet cloth as she cleaned his face. He winced and hissed through his teeth at the contact with his busted lip.

Y/N didn’t apologize. As he stared at her mending him up he thought she looked upset. She had every right to be.

He kept observing her every tiny movement. The way she furrowed her brows when she was on edge. How she bit her lip in concentration, the same way she did whenever she was writing.

Michael turned his face and placed a small kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

His lips lingered there for a second before he looked back up at her through impossibly large brown eyes.

“Keep still.”

“Sorry.”

Five seconds later he kissed her nuckles.

“Mike,”

“Sorry. I’ll behave.”

He didn’t.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh as he placed another kiss on her wrist.

“Well, you’re impossible, but I’m done with your face.” She stated while peeling the last adhesive strip from its packaging and smoothing it carefully over the cut on his cheek. She stated at him for a few moments before locking eyes with his injured arm. She could see a bloodstain forming at the sleeve of his sweater.

“Let’s see…” She lifted the sleeve and tilted her head in confusion. Her fingertips gently hovered over the skin around the injury, a strange look on her face. “Huh…” Something about it tugged at the back of her mind. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was, though.

A weird wound rested bloody on his bicep. It wasn’t a scrape, no. A perfect clean line sliced across his upper arm. She brushed her thumb over it gently, still concentrated.

Michael watched her, his eyes traveling from the wound to her a couple of times. “What?” He asked casually.

Y/N looked up. “Where did you get this?”

'Why is she such a journalist?’ Michael pleaded on his mind.

“I d-don’t know.” He shrugged—which made him wince instantly. “I probably bumbled into something in all that mess,” He forced a laugh. “Didn’t even noticed.”

Y/N kept staring at the wound.

Michael reached out and cupping her cheek, which finally stirred her attention back. “I don’t remember, baby.” He let out another nervous laugh. “D-did the beam hit you?” He tried to deflect.

Y/N’s eyes turned to him, a small crease forming between her brows. She blinked. “What beam?”

Michael’s hand slipped from her cheeks. “You said—”

“I didn’t say anything about a beam.” She cut him off. Michael felt his mouth getting dry. “I only said the building colapsed.” She pointed out. Not accusing, just… curious.

Michael felt his heart pounding loud enough that he could heart it. So loud even Y/N could probably hear it

‘You absolute idiot!’ Michael cursed himself internally.

“Bill!” He blurted out the first lame explanation that came into his mind. “Bill told me.” Y/N just stared, looking unconvinced. “He called and I— you know.” He nodded. “Just to make sure everything was alright.”

Y/N felt her mind racing everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Her eyes traveled back to the wound on the left arm. Then to his bruised right eye.

She definitely wasn’t convinced. But she wasn’t convinced he was lying, either. Something tugged at the edge of her memory.

Spider-Man clutching his left arm.

A streak of red blood against the deep blue of his suit.

The image flashed through her mind before disappearing just as quickly.

Nothing clicked fully on her mind. Just… something.

Michael could practically see the wheels turning beginning to turn on her head. His stomach twisted.

He reached for her hand again, pressing another absentminded kiss to her knuckles. “I love you, mama.”

Y/N didn’t answer. She simply kept looking at him.

And slowly, she lifted a hand to the nape of his neck, her fingers absentmindedly combing through his curls as her eyes searched his face for something.

Where were you today, Mike?

Taglist:

Everything felt so right.

Maybe it was the way your limbs were tangled with Michael’s under the sheets as his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close, taking in every little bit of your warmth as your chest rose softly, or maybe it was the fact that you could see each feature of Michael's face, from his nose, down to his perfectly molded jawline.

“You tired?” he whispered, already knowing the answer, considering the weight of sleep was already bearing down on you, now showing on your face as you tried to blink back the sleep.

“Mhm, I’m gonna sleep,” you yawned again, finally letting your eyes close, hearing the faint sound of an “okay” dance off of Michael's tongue in that usual soft tone.

There were a few moments of silence between the two of you as you attempted to drift off to sleep, yet despite how tired you were, your mind seemed to be too active for your body to completely relax.

Michael hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear the fact that his heart was nearly beating out of his chest, his breathing quickening in uneven waves as his mouth opened and closed, his brain debating on whether he could even say this out loud even if you were asleep.

“God, I really hope you can't hear this,” he whispered, his eyes glancing over your sleeping features as he watched your chest rise and fall. The feeling of your breathing feathered over his skin as he let out a sigh.

“I wish I could say this to your face when you're… y’know, awake, but I’m such a coward,” he laughed softly so as not to wake you.

“You're just, ugh, so pretty, and you always smell so good. I'm kind of addicted to you,” he started, pausing before starting again. “And when you're around, I get so nervous and trip over my words. I hope you don't notice, but if you do, you don't say anything, which I preciate” The nervousness that once bubbled up in his stomach disappeared now that the words that he'd been waiting to say were finally tumbling out.

At first, you wanted to tell him that you had yet to fall asleep, but hearing that he was hoping you wouldn't hear it immediately stopped you in your tracks as you kept your breathing steady, waiting for what he possibly had to say that you couldn't be awake for.

“This is startin’ to make me go crazy because…” there was a pause, something in the air shifting when he stopped speaking. “I really love you.” You nearly choked on your spit, swallowing the cough that threatened to slip out.

Oh god.

Did he really just say that he loves you?

No, no, it was just sleep playing tricks on you, wasn't it?

Spoiler alert it wasn't

“Do you really mean that?” Your words came out before you even had time to think about it, and it was safe to say Michael was completely startled. His once even breathing turned panicked as he sat up, nearly falling off the bed as he tried to scoot away as much as the tangled sheets would allow him.

“I-well…I thought you were asleep.” He wasn't sure what to say, and he wasn't sure if he wasn't embarrassed or scared as his brain flipped through all the possible ways the situation could end.

“Do you really mean that, though?” You were completely ignoring his panicked way of speaking and the shock that overwhelmed his face, eyes blown wide like you weren't his best friend, but instead some random girl who ended up in his bed.

“Of course I mean it.”

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“C'mon, say that you…y'know.”

“I l-love you, okay?"

"I love you too, Mikey.”

©angelfacediary

Taglist :

It was a drizzly Friday night, a little past eleven. My boyfriend had just gotten off of a long business call and we were in our bedroom, my frame pinned between his and the sheets. As we lay, he definitely had my body, but my mind wasn't his at all. The cadence of the rain had taken my thoughts to another place. I slipped into my head, unintentionally allowing the most recent memories of my best friend to take over; us just sitting on his couch, talking trash about some movie on the TV. I loved him so much; we loved each other. I missed him, too. I hadn't seen him in two months, eight whole weeks. Which wasn’t unusual, but I was honestly starting to become restless. I was more than anxious to just hear his laugh, feel one of those amazing hugs, see his face. Thankfully, Monday morning was only a couple days away.

He was such a genuine and caring soul, always there for me when I needed him and never judgmental. I didn't mean to be such an annoyance, but he had become my only outlet when my boyfriend was too much for me to handle alone. However, my boyfriend knew nothing about him and never would. He'd probably lose the rest of his mind if he were ever made aware of Mike's existence. Mike certainly knew of him, from the many calls and texts I'd send whenever I needed to vent my frustrations. He would always listen and give me uplifting words to renew my sanity, but he had made it clear that he was in support of me, not my relationship. On several occasions, he'd advised me to move on, citing that I deserved better. I heard him, but I never really listened. I loved my baby, and I wasn't ready to give up on us just yet. I was willing to walk through this storm with him, because I knew he'd do the same for me. More than anything, though, I was hopeful that the real him, the warm and compassionate person I just couldn't shake from my brain, would eventually return to me.

Contrarily, my best friend lived by his words, practicing exactly what he preached. He himself was still on the search for Mrs. Right. Though I didn't at all understand how a man with all his beautiful qualities could remain unattached for so long. He was thirty with a successful career, a couple of cars, his own home, no children, and he was very easy on the eyes. Not to mention an unbelievable personality that I'd yet to find in anyone else. He was a dream. I just didn't get it.

He was Michael Joseph Jackson. My homie. My confidant. My shoulder to cry on. And one of the few reasons I still had the strength to endure.

“Ooh, Michael,” I cooed, feeling especially euphoric as I dug my fingertips into my pillow.

“What the fuck?” Suddenly, everything stopped. I slowly opened my eyes, realizing what a terrible mistake I had made. “...Who is Michael?”

Crippling anxiety washed over my entire being as I stared up at Cameron’s heavily creased brow, horrified and completely lost for words. Hoping like hell that it wasn't showing on my face. I had no idea what to say to him, but I did know, all too well, what his response to this mess would be.

"The number you have dialed cannot be reached—"

Jermajesty shut his phone off and tossed it against his bed in frustration.

"What did I do wrong?" he mumbled to himself, pacing his room back and forth as he recalled what happened just a few hours ago.

You left so abruptly and it left him confused. You were never the type to overreact, especially when it came to the girls Jermajesty dated or had flings with.

You simply "never cared"— at least, that's what Jermajesty told himself.

So why now? Why were you acting like this now?

He never meant to kiss that random girl. He doesn't even remember who it was or what she looked like.

Why does it bother him?

Why does the thought of upsetting you over a girl bother him this much? You two were friends, nothing more.

Deciding that he needed advice, he got out of his room and called Genevieve, Randy, and even Jaafar out to the living room.

"What's going on?" Genevieve asked with a curious smile on her face. "This isn't one of your silly snapchat videos again, right, Jer?"

Jermajesty shook his head and told his older siblings to sit down.

"Is this about a girl?" Jaafar asked, making Jermajesty nod. Randy's eyes widened and pointed a finger at Jermajesty accusingly, "Don't you fucking dare tell us— Did you get someone pregnant?"

"What?!" Jermajesty exclaimed as he watched his siblings' eyes go wild.

"Jermajesty Jackson! I swear—"

"Who is it?!"

"I'm not ready to be an uncle—"

"It's about Y/N!" Jermajesty screamed. The protests of his siblings stopped altogether for a second before erupting into chaos again.

"You got her pregnant?!"

"What the fuck, Jermajesty!"

"I mean, I kinda knew you guys had a thing but what the fuck—"

"I DID NOT GET ANYONE PREGNANT!" Jermajesty stood up in anger and cursed his siblings out. "Jesus fucking Christ! Let me talk!"

Seeing as his siblings immediately shut their mouths, he took a deep breath and faced them again. "Okay," he exhaled. "Now, I'm already embarrassed enough to ask you three, of all people, for advice. So shut up and take this seriously."

He continued, "We fought, I guess? I don't really know. She saw something on my phone and got upset— even though she told me she didn't care and I tried explaining but she didn't want to listen and—"

"Okay, okay. Slow down, Jermajesty." Genevieve placed a hand on Jermajesty's arm and gently pulled him down to sit beside her on the couch. "Tell us what happened. From the start."

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

As he finished his extensive explanation of what happened, he looked at his siblings sheepishly. The three of them looked stunned, to say the least. Baffled, even, as if they couldn't believe what their younger brother had just told them.

Randy let out a short scoff, "You're so fuckin' dumb, man." Before Jermajesty could let out a reply, Randy continued. "You seriously don't get why she got upset? Nothing comes to mind?"

"I mean— I guess she was just being overprotective? She gets like that sometimes. Doesn't approve of some of the girls I've liked—"

"And why do you think she does that?" Genevieve asked, making Jermajesty shrug.

Jaafar rolled his eyes and sighed, "Do you seriously not know or are you in denial? It's clear as day. I feel like you're just denying it."

"Denying what!" Jermajesty sighed. He looked at their eyes with a look that pleaded for clarity before looking away. "I'm just as confused as you are."

"We're not confused, Jermajesty. You're just simply avoiding the only logical answer." Randy replied.

"And that is?" Jermajesty asked sassily, already regretting that he asked his siblings for advice.

"She gets protective over you. She fusses over you. She cares about you a lot, even if she refuses to let anyone else know," Genevieve proceeds to list every obvious thing about you to Jermajesty, making him groan.

"Why do you think she got upset over the video? Why she feigned indifference when you tried to explain?"

Jermajesty stayed silent. Genevieve spoke up again. "You seriously cannot be this stupid, Jermajesty."

"Can y'all stop calling me stupid and stop answering my fucking questions with more questions?" Jermajesty shouted.

Jaafar shot him a warning glare before speaking up. "Don't talk to us like that. You're the one who asked us for help, okay? It's not our fault you can't see it even if it's right in front of you—"

"Okay, fuck you—"

"Wow. Okay, Jermajesty—"

"No, seriously," Jermajesty scoffed, throwing his hands up. "You've never said anything useful and I know why! You like her!" Jermajesty exclaimed, making Jaafar laugh bitterly.

"Is that really what you're going with?"

"Tell me I'm wrong," Jermajesty challenged.

"I don't need to."

The confidence in Jaafar's voice only irritated Jermajesty even further.

Jaafar let out a slow breath before setting his drink down on the coffee table. He stood, closing the distance between them just enough to make Jermajesty instinctively straighten.

"Jermajesty," he said calmly, "you can be mad at me all you want. I honestly don't care."

He tapped a finger against Jermajesty's chest, hard enough to keep his attention. "But don't drag her into whatever this is."

Jermajesty's jaw tightened. "I'm not dragging her into anything."

"You already have."

The room fell quiet. Genevieve and Randy exchanged a glance but stayed out of it, sensing neither brother had finished.

"This isn't about my feelings for her. It's about yours. I know what I feel. I know what you feel. The question is, do you?"

Jermajesty's expression faltered for the briefest second but Jaafar caught it immediately.

Jermajesty replied, anger and fear in his voice. "She's my best friend. I don't want to make things awkward just because of— of you know!"

His siblings exchanged knowing glances, silently relieved that their younger brother finally admitted it— even if it was an indirect confession.

"I'd rather stay as friends with her than fuck it up and lose her."

Randy sighed, finally deciding to speak up as he stood up and patted his brother's shoulder. "Don't be a coward. Tell her. What's the worst thing she could do, huh?"

Jermajesty chuckled and shrugged lightly, "I dunno. Scream at me? Laugh at me?"

"I can actually picture her doing that," Randy replied, making Jaafar and Genevieve laugh in unison.

Genevieve stood up and wrapped her hand around Jermajesty's arm and sighed, "We know you know what to do, Jer. You've known this whole time."

Jermajesty nodded softly before locking eyes with Jaafar who gave him a soft smile in return. "No hard feelings?"

Jermajesty rolled his eyes playfully and nodded, clasping his hand against Jaafar's and pulling him in for a short hug. "No hard feelings."

"About damn time you realized your feelings for her. It was killing all of us. Especially me." Jaafar joked.

Jermajesty hesitated. "...Why haven't you told her about your feelings?"

Jaafar looked down for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "I thought about it. I really did."

That answer surprised everyone but Jaafar continued.

"But every time we were all together..." He looked at Jermajesty and shrugged. " I'd catch her looking at you."

Jermajesty blinked, "What?"

"Not all the time," Jaafar smiled knowingly. "But enough. She laughs a little harder at your stupid jokes. You're the one who can make her smile even when she's trying her very best not to. When she walks into a room, she looks for you without even realizing it."

"She does?"

Jaafar nodded. "Every time."

Randy and Genevieve burst into agreement, bickering about who won which bet, etc. Ignoring them, Jaafar looked back at Jermajesty.

"I had my feelings but somewhere along the way, I realized she looked happiest when she was with you. I wasn't going to compete with that."

Jermajesty swallowed. "You really mean that?"

Jaafar gave him a playful shove. "If I didn't, I would've punched you by now," he replied, making everyone laugh. "Now quit standing there and go to her."

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

"...Well," he muttered to himself with a nervous chuckle." No backing out now."

He climbed out of the car, walked up the familiar path to your front porch, and rang the doorbell, suddenly very aware that despite everything he'd finally admitted to himself...

He still had absolutely no idea what he was going to say when you opened the door.

The doorbell echoed through the house. You frowned, wondering who it could be. It was already midnight and you weren't expecting any visitors.

You pulled the door open. "Jermajesty," shock evident in your voice as you saw him stand outside your front door.

There he was, hands shoved inside his pockets, hair messier than usual, and his usual easy grin was nowhere to be found.

He looked nervous. "Hi," he greeted softly and you nodded.

"Hey."

"...Can I come in?"He asked softly. You hesitated for the briefest second before stepping aside.

"Yeah. Of course."

Jermajesty thanked you quietly as he walked inside.

"So..." You rubbed your hands together awkwardly after you closed the door behind him.

It was strange. Jermajesty had been in your house hundreds of times, yet tonight he stood there like a guest who wasn't sure he'd be welcomed.

You broke the silence first.

"If you're here because of the other night..." you began, forcing a small smile. "You really don't have to explain."

His brows pinched together. "What do you mean?"

"You were drunk," you shrugged. "Things just... happen. You don't owe me an explanation. I don't know why I freaked out to be honest. And it wasn't fair of me to walk out like that."

Jermajesty's shoulders sagged. He wasn't expecting anything from you, especially not an apology for last night. Frowning, he pulled you in towards the living room and sat you both at the couch.

"Why– Why are you apologizing?" Jermajesty asked and you shrugged. "Maj, I overreacted."

"No, you didn't," he shook his head, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. "I came here to apologize."

You raised an eyebrow. "Apologize? For what?"

"I know I've hurt you yesterday. And on other days too." He replied, his thumb lightly tracing circles against your hand as he continued. "I've been really stupid and...blind."

You stayed silent as he looked up at you. "And I'm angry that you're apologizing to me right now," he sighed. "I'm angry at myself for making you feel that you needed to apologize for last night."

"Jer—"

"Let me finish," he said as he squeezed your hand. "When I told you that I loved you, I—" his voice cracked in nervousness causing him to look away. You moved closer to him and squeezed his hand, willing him to continue.

"I told you because I meant it."

"Well, yeah, we're friends—"

"For fuck's sake!" he exclaimed, making you flinch. Regret filled him and he immediately apologized. "Shit, I–I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's hard for me to do this. Just... just let me talk okay? I'll tell you when I'm done."

You nodded and he smiled to himself before continuing. "Do you remember your first boyfriend? What's that guy's name..."

"Mark," you finished for him, cringing as his name left your mouth. Jermajesty nodded and chuckled shyly. "He hurt you. Embarrassed you even, yeah? A week later, you come crashing in my room and telling me he came to school with a broken nose."

You nodded before your eyes widened in realization. "I did it. I did it because I couldn't fathom the thought that some jerk made you cry like that. He cheated on you," he shrugged. "Breaking his nose was the least I could do."

"Do you remember summer '09? We spent an entire weekend at my uncle's cabin and my aunties were teasing me so bad... then your family arrived and I ignored you for the rest of the night..."

You rolled your eyes," Yeah, I remember."

"They teased me about you. Kept telling me that they knew I missed you so much."

"And did you? Miss me?" you asked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "So much. But we were kind of enemies during that time so I was never going to admit it out loud."

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. He let out a cough before speaking again.

"It all changed during my 13th birthday, I think. You gave me a comic book of a character you knew I despised just to get a reaction out of me," he laughed at the memory. "I saw you in a different light then."

"How so?"

"I don't remember having a conversation with you about which characters were my favorite. I don't even think we talked much about my likes and dislikes because you said it was 'too boring and boyish.'"

"But your gift," he continued, "told me otherwise. I knew you cared about me because you gave me something no one else did. A reminder of how you've always been listening to me."

Jermajesty let go of your hands and stood up, raking his hands through his curls as he paced the room. "I'm sorry. For leading you on. I– I've never been this stupid in my entire life and you know me, I always make stupid decisions."

He continued to ramble while you stayed seated, heart threatening to leap out of your chest as you realized where this conversation was going to.

" I love you." He said, making you freeze in your seat. He knelt down in front of you, placing himself in between your legs as he held your hands once more. "I love you so much it fucking hurts.

And no," he shook his head, eyes still boring into yours. "You're not just a friend to me. You've been more than that since my 13th birthday and I'm so sorry I've only realized it now."

"I realize now that I've been confusing and leading you on. I was just scared. I didn't want to make anything awkward by telling you how I truly felt and— Fuck. I... I'm saying it now, okay?

I was drunk, yes, but drunk words are just sober thoughts, right?"

You felt him lean closer and closer until his breath mixed with yours. "I love you. I always have been."

You let out a shaky breath as you stared at his eyes, begging you to say something. "Say something? Please?"

Your lips met his before either of you had the chance to think better of it. For a single heartbeat, the world seemed to stop.

Jermajesty's eyes widened in surprise, every word he'd been about to say dissolving into silence.

Then, just as suddenly as it happened, you pulled away. "Shit, I—"

"Shut up," he crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss, this time, felt more intense. You could feel every pent up emotion he's ever had as his hands trailed along your body.

You kissed him with just as much fervor. His hand moved to hold the side of your neck as he pulled you even closer.

Without breaking the kiss, you pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and sat him on the couch before straddling his legs. You pulled away as you sat on his lap, watching his eyes take in your entire appearance before he pulled you in for another heated kiss.

You tugged at his hair gently, making him groan in pleasure. His tongue prodded at your lips and you chuckled, opening up to let his tongue slide towards yours.

He moved his hands to your hips, gripping it tightly in desperation. You sighed in pleasure as he trailed kisses from the corner of your mouth to the crook of your neck, certain that he was leaving marks but you didn't care.

"Maj..."

"Move," he grunted. "Move, mama. Please," he begged, shifting his hips upward until you finally got the hint and nodded.

You moved your hips back and forth, watching Jermajesty shut his eyes in pleasure, his mouth slightly open as he let out ragged breaths.

You moved your hips back and forth, watching Jermajesty shut his eyes in pleasure, his mouth slightly open as he let out ragged breaths.

You felt him harden up underneath you which only added to your pleasure. He tapped his fingers against your hips and you nodded, rolling your hips against his in a quicker pace.

"Fuck, mama—"

Click.

Both of you froze.

Jermajesty's hands remained firmly on your hips while your own rested against his chest, the two of you standing far closer than either of you could reasonably explain.

"...Did you lock the door?" he whispered.

"I..." Your eyes widened. "I thought I did."

The front door swung open. "Hey! I think I left my charg—"

You and Jermajesty slowly turned your heads toward the foyer.

Your brother stood there with one hand still on the doorknob, his backpack hanging off one shoulder. His gaze flickered from Jermajesty's hands on your waist... to your hands on his chest... then back up to both of your faces.

The room fell deathly quiet.

"...Huh."

You immediately stepped away from Jermajesty as though you'd both been caught committing a crime.

"Hey, (brother's name)."

"Hi."

Jermajesty awkwardly cleared his throat, taking a subtle step backward. "Hey, man."

Neither of them looked away from each other. Then your brother looked back at you.

"So..." he said slowly, "...am I interrupting something?"

"No."

"Absolutely."

You whipped your head toward Jermajesty.

He blinked."...I mean—"

Your brother let out a disbelieving laugh, pointing between the two of you. "You know what? Don't even answer. I have eyes."

"It's not what it looks like," you blurted.

He walked farther into the house, passing the two of you with exaggerated slowness, making a point of glancing between your flushed face and Jermajesty's equally guilty expression.

"About damn time. God, you two are fucking insufferable. Next time though, lock the doors? I'll just... get my charger and leave the two of you alone."

He rushed towards the guest room and came back out with the said charger in his hands. Your brother quickly made his way to the front door before looking back at the both of you. "Use protection!"

"Bro!"

"Oh, God."

Your brother left both of you embarrassed as he shut the door behind him. Jermajesty looked at you and chuckled, "I love you."

“You made it!” You smiled as Genevieve pulled you in for a hug. Pulling away after a few seconds, she greeted your parents and both of your siblings. Being the hospitable host that she was, she quickly grabbed the food you and your family had brought over and called her brothers, Randy and Jaafar, to help with the other items.

“Hey, bug!” Randy greeted as he took your coat from your arms and placed it on the coat rack alongside your family’s coats. “Excited for tonight?” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, knowing what he meant. “Mhm. I’ll beat all of your asses in every game we play tonight,” you replied in confidence.

Randy immediately laughed in disbelief, “You wish! Jaafar, she thinks she can beat us on game night.” Jaafar, who was busy entertaining your older brother with small talk, turned his head towards the both of you and scoffed. “You keep dreaming, angel.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname he gave you, feigning indifference. You were about to reply but you heard your name being called from the living room. You turned your head and saw Jermaine with little Abu balanced on his hip.

“Hi, sir!”

Jermaine rolled his eyes playfully at the way you addressed him. “Kid, quit playin’ with me. I told you to call me Jermaine.”

You offered him a small smile as you shrugged your shoulders. “I know, I know. But it’s fun seeing your reaction every time I do it. Hi, baby!” You turned your attention towards Abu who was already holding his arms out for you. Jermaine chuckled at his son’s eagerness and handed Abu to you. “Don’t give her any trouble now. I’ll leave you two to it,” You nodded, spinning around and making Abu giggle as Jermaine patted your shoulder. “Oh, Jermajesty’s still up in his room. Please tell him to come down.”

🩵

With Abu still resting on your hips and playing with your hair, you walked up to Jermajesty’s room and knocked on his door. “Jermajesty! Your dad told me to drag you out of your man cave!”

You smiled down at Abu as he nuzzled his face onto the crook of your neck, fingers still playing with the ends of your hair. “What’s taking your big brother so long, hm?” you asked, not really expecting an answer from the toddler.

“Maj!” Your raised fist halted mid-air as the door opened, revealing Jermajesty in just his sweatpants. When you looked down at his bare chest, you let out an awkward cough and averted your gaze towards his doorframe. He chuckled and put on a casual white shirt before gently tugging you towards him. To your surprise, he placed a kiss on your cheek before pulling away and ruffling Abu’s hair then walking away as if nothing happened.

Abu gasped, covering his mouth and giggling in that typical childlike manner, teasing you as you stood there, in the middle of Jermajesty’s room, completely frozen.

“You coming, bro?” Jermajesty called out, pulling you out of your trance.

“Coming! Shut it, Abu.” You narrowed your eyes at the boy in your arms before following Jermajesty downstairs.

🩵

The chorus of complaints echoed through the living room before the current round could even finish.

"That was not the rule!" "It literally was!"

"You changed it halfway through!" "I did not!"

"You absolutely did."

"Okay, okay!" Jermaine laughed, raising both hands in surrender as the overlapping voices grew louder. "I think we've officially reached the point where nobody remembers how this game is actually supposed to be played."

"That's because Uncle Marlon keeps making up rules," Genevieve chimed in with a grin.

"I do not! How dare you—"

"You just did ten seconds ago," Randy Jr. pointed out, earning a wave of laughter from everyone else.

Your sister shook her head fondly from her seat on the couch. "How about we save ourselves another twenty-minute argument?"

"What're you suggesting?" your father asked.

"Charades!" one of the younger cousins blurted out almost immediately. Within seconds, everyone had abandoned the previous game without a second thought. The board pieces were swept back into their box, playing cards disappeared into their case, and the coffee table was pushed farther against the couch to clear a makeshift stage in the middle of the room.

Your brother disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a small bowl, a handful of folded slips of paper, and a pen. "Everyone write your name once. Random pairs!”

The room buzzed with conversation as the slips were passed around. Some folded theirs neatly while others crumpled them into tiny balls before tossing them into the bowl in the center of the coffee table. Jermajesty leaned forward from where he'd been sitting on the floor beside the couch, dropping his paper in with the rest before giving the bowl an exaggerated shake.

After everyone’s names were collected , Jermaine took the bowl and did the honors of drawing the names. One by one, he announced the pairs, each met with cheers, groans, or playful teasing depending on who had been matched together. Soon enough, only a handful of names were left in the bowl.

“Jermajesty…” Jermaine called out as he reached for another name. “And (your brother’s name).” Jermajesty’s shoulder immediately slumped while your brother clasped his hands together, already making his way towards him. Jermaine pulled the remaining two names and smiled, “Last but not the least, Jaafar and Y/N.”

From where he sat on the floor, Jermajesty watched the easy smile spread across your face as Jaafar bumped your shoulder with his own. He forced a smile as everyone continued joking around, quietly reminding himself that it was only a game.

🩵

It was finally you and Jaafar's turn to play, the competitiveness already radiating off the both of you as you stood and made your way to the middle of the room. “I’ll act first,” Jaafar offered, which made you nod your head. He reached into the bowl, unfolding the tiny slip of paper before immediately biting back a smile.

“Don’t mess it up, J,” you warned, playfully pointing a finger at him. Before he could respond, your father clapped his hands together. “30 seconds starting… now!”

Jaafar straightened, quickly miming the motion of spinning an invisible basketball on one finger before pretending to dribble down an imaginary court.

"Basketball!" someone shouted. “Aye, it’s her turn to guess! Don’t help her out!” someone else scolded.

"No!" He pointed enthusiastically at the person.

"Sports?"

He shook his head.

"N—NBA!"

Another shake. You narrowed your eyes, studying every movement instead of blurting out the first thing that came to mind. Jaafar pretended to bounce a ball once more before raising both arms high above his head, wiggling his fingers as though something had just swished through a net.

You stared for another second before guessing. "...Slam dunk?"

He tilted his hand.

"Three-pointer!"

He pointed at you excitedly before tapping his finger against his wrist to portray time and then covering his ears.

"Buzzer beater!"

He threw both fists into the air, “Yes!” The room erupted in cheers as gave you a high-five. “Okay, angel. Your turn.”

You smiled as your family cheered you on. You shuffled the pieces of paper with your fingers before finally picking one out. Internalizing the word, you smiled and tucked the paper in your pocket before looking back at Jaafar. “You ready?”

“Of course, angel.”

Across the room, Jermajesty shifted in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes never left you, watching as that smile of yours grew every second you were with his brother.

"Thirty seconds," Jermaine announced. "Go!"

Without wasting a second, you raised both arms behind your back, flapping them exaggeratedly like a pair of wings. Jaafar blinked, “...Bird?” You vigorously shook your head as you continued to flap your arms.

“Uh, eagle!”

You shook your head again.

“Chicken?” Laughter erupted around the room and you groaned. “Seriously?” you mouthed incredulously.

“What? It has wings!” he replied.

You rolled your eyes before trying again, stretching your arms wide and gliding around the makeshift stage.

"...Airplane?"

"No!" You screamed in frustration.

"You can't talk!" Randy Jr. laughed.

You let out a dramatic sigh before wiggling your fingers beside your shoulders as if they were delicate wings.

Jaafar snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “...Butterfly?"

No. “Ugh! Bat?"

No!

"...Fly?"

"You've got twenty seconds!" your brother announced, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. Jaafar immediately urged you to continue acting the word out.

Thinking quickly, you lifted both hands above your head, shaping an invisible halo before clasping your palms together as though you were praying.

"...Church?"

You groaned.

"...Prayer?" he guessed.

"Oh, come on!" Genevieve whined. "It's so obvious!"

"It is not!" Jaafar defended.

You looked up at the ceiling for a brief second, silently begging for patience. Then, with only a few seconds left, you dropped your hands. You pointed at yourself then directly at Jaafar.

“What?” he frowned. You pointed at yourself again then at him, eyes widening expectantly. The room had gone noticeably quieter, everyone watching the two of you with growing amusement.

Come on, Jaafar. You literally call me this.

Jaafar stared at you for another second, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he wracked his brain for an answer. Panicking, you looked at the time and let out a muffled scream at him, indirectly telling him to think faster.

After a few more seconds, his face lit up. "...Angel!"

You immediately pointed at him with both hands. "Yes!"

"TIME!" Cheers erupted throughout the living room. Your brother, ever the teaser, pointed at Jaafar and burst into laughter. “Dude, it took you the entire 30 seconds to get that?” he said in between laughs.

Jermaine looked between the two of you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "...Angel?" he repeated. "Why'd that finally make sense?" Jaafar rubbed the back of his neck, laughing sheepishly. "I..." He glanced over at you. "...I call her that sometimes."

A chorus of oohs instantly filled the room. You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head as the teasing only intensified. "Come on, guys. It's not a big deal," you insisted.

Jaafar laughed in defeat, throwing his hands into the air. "Can we move on?"

Across the room, Jermajesty leaned back against the couch, forcing out a quiet chuckle that never quite reached his eyes.

Angel.

He'd heard Jaafar call you that more times than he could count. It had always seemed harmless, just a normal nickname. But hearing everyone gush over it, watching the shy smile spread across your face as Jaafar unconsciously looked at you before explaining himself left an unpleasant weight settling in his chest.

Why does it bother me so much? he thought. It's just a stupid nickname.

He exhaled through his nose and looked away, rolling his eyes before anyone noticed he'd gone quiet. “Hey, I’m feeling kinda dizzy. Y’all mind if I retire for the night?’ The crowd immediately asked questions to which Jermajesty dismissed, telling everyone he was just tired and feeling a little under the weather. Eventually, his father agreed and told him to get some rest.

🩵

Your gaze instinctively wandered toward the couch where Jermajesty had been sitting only moments ago. Empty. You frowned. That was unlike him. Usually, he'd have a sarcastic comment ready after every failed guess, or he'd be the loudest one laughing whenever someone embarrassed themselves. But after the teasing surrounding you and Jaafar, he slipped out of the room.

It wasn't obvious enough for anyone else to notice. But you'd known him for far too long to miss it. "Be right back," you murmured to your brother, nudging his shoulder as you stood.

"Hm?" He barely looked away from the game. "Bathroom?"

You simply nodded, not bothering to correct him. You quietly slipped out of the living room, the sounds of cheering growing muffled as you made your way down the familiar hallway. Without thinking, your feet carried you straight to Jermajesty's room.

The door was slightly ajar but you knocked twice against the wood anyway. "Jer?" You pushed it open just enough to peek inside. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, absentmindedly spinning a basketball between his palms.

He looked up at the sound of your voice. "Oh." His expression softened almost immediately. "Hey."

"There you are." You stepped inside, gently closing the door behind you. Silence settled between you for a moment. You sat down beside him and nudged his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

Jermajesty looked down at the basketball again, giving it another slow spin.

"...Yeah."

You narrowed your eyes. "Liar."

A small laugh escaped him. "You always know."

"I do. So, what’s wrong?”

Finally, he sighed.

You. Jaafar. And whatever the hell was going on between the two of you, he thought.

He wanted to say it out loud so bad but fear took over him instantly. He glanced at you, opening his mouth before shaking his head. “... I just needed a breather. Don’t worry.”

You scoffed at his reply. “How can I not worry? You rarely back out of game night.”

He stayed silent. You sighed softly and looked around until your eyes landed on a framed photo of you and him on his nightstand. You smiled and took it in your hands, making Jermajesty look over and smile softly too.

You were still kids, not older than the age of 6. Your hair was styled in two high pigtails and you were wearing a shirt that matched his. His smile mirrored yours, big and bright, as he held out a peace sign and placed it at the back of your head while your arms were around him, wrapping his tiny body into a tight hug.

“Time flies, huh?” You muttered, tracing the edges of the photoframe lightly. He shifted closer to you and nodded while wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Mhm.” Placing the frame on your lap, you let your body lean against his as you looked up. “What really bothered you tonight, Jer? You can tell me.”

No, I can’t. If I say it out loud, there's no going back. He thought.

“There’s no point in lying to me, Jermajesty. I can read you like an open book,” you chuckled, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. He looked down at you, his face inches before yours, and stared.

Then why haven’t you figured it out yet? He thought, his heart aching desperately for you to finally understand.

You could see the thoughts running in his brain as clear as day. Sighing, you laced your fingers with his and offered a soft smile. “Okay, I won’t push. But you can always talk to me, okay? You know I don’t judge.”

He raised an eyebrow at you and you laughed. “Unless necessary. But, really. If there’s anything you want— or need— to tell me, I’m right here.”

2023 los angeles

if someone would've told you that during your acting class you would've fallen in love, you would've called them crazy. you hadn't walked into that classroom looking for anything other than becoming a better actor. romance wasn't part of the plan, and neither was finding someone who would slowly become your favorite part of every week. somehow, though, love had a way of slipping through the cracks when you weren't paying attention.

jaafar was different. he was kind, soft-spoken, endlessly patient, and so genuinely sweet that it caught you off guard. there was never any need for him to be the loudest person in the room or the center of attention. instead, he had this quiet warmth about him that naturally drew people in, and before long, you realized it had drawn you in too.

your teachers quickly noticed how well the two of you worked together and started pairing you for scene work whenever they could, always commenting on the "natural chemistry" between you. you didn't mind in the slightest. jaafar was an incredible actor, completely committed to every scene, and working opposite him always made you feel like a better performer yourself.

somewhere along the way, though, those scenes stopped feeling like just assignments.

every time the class was given a romantic monologue or an intimate scene, jaafar would look at you with such unwavering focus that the rest of the room seemed to disappear. he always held your gaze just a heartbeat longer than necessary, his eyes carrying a softness that wasn't written anywhere in the script. it was enough to make your pulse stumble, enough that more than once you nearly forgot your next line because all you could think about was how convincingly he looked at you.

the acting coaches praised the authenticity between you two, and neither of you had the heart to admit it was becoming less and less like acting.

then came the dates.

about a month into the class, jaafar had asked if you'd wanted to grab coffee before rehearsal one morning. the invitation had been casual enough that it didn't make your heart race until after you'd already said yes. the two of you exchanged numbers, met at a small coffee shop before class, and somehow spent nearly three hours talking.

he told you stories about his family. funny moments growing up, memories with his parents, stories about his siblings, aunts, and uncles that always made him smile while he told them. you noticed he never actually said anyone's name, but you hadn't thought much of it. everyone shared things differently, and if he wasn't ready to introduce names into those stories, you weren't going to pry.

instead, you found yourself wanting to know more about him.

he asked about your childhood, where you grew up, what first made you fall in love with acting, your favorite films, the places you wanted to travel, the dreams you hoped acting would someday make possible. every answer only led to another question, and before either of you realized it, you were laughing so much that you nearly forgot you had class to get to.

after that, the dates became a weekly tradition; sometimes it was coffee before class, other times it was dinner afterward. sometimes you'd wander around a bookstore for an hour, recommending your favorite novels to each other. other times you'd see a movie together, only to spend the drive home happily picking apart every performance like the acting students you were.

being together felt easy.

your first kiss happened after one of those dates, ironically, it was because of the michael movie. you had been scrolling through your phone when an article caught your attention, mentioning that the upcoming michael jackson biopic was still holding auditions as the filmmakers searched for the right actor to portray michael.

you turned your phone toward jaafar.

“you should audition for this,” you told him, having no idea that the very role you were showing him was the reason he was in your acting class to begin with.

jaafar looked down at the article before letting out a quiet chuckle to himself. there was something almost surreal about the moment. nobody in the class knew why he was really there. to everyone else, he was just another actor trying to sharpen his craft, another student chasing auditions and hoping for a big break.

if only you knew.

“i think you'd be really good for it. you're naturally soft-spoken like michael was, and really cute like michael,” you say without even thinking about it.

“oh, so you think i'm cute?” jaafar latched onto the one part of your sentence that made your composure immediately crumble.

you bit down on your lip as warmth rushed to your cheeks, silently cursing yourself for letting that one slip.

“yeah, yeah, you are... but seriously, i know taking on the king of pop would be a lot, but i think you can do it,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to the movie.

jaafar's smile softened instantly. you had no idea how much those words meant to him. you didn't know he'd already been cast and the entire reason he'd spent the last several months in acting class was because he was preparing to become michael.

you didn't know the countless hours he'd spent questioning whether he was good enough, whether he could carry the weight of portraying not just a global icon, but his own uncle.

yet somehow, without knowing any of it, you looked at him and saw exactly what the filmmakers had seen. you believed he could do it before you even knew there was something to believe in.

he wished, more than anything, that he could've told you the truth right then and there.

“only if you audition for ola ray,” he said instead, teasing you about being his love interest in thriller. you giggled, your cheeks somehow growing even warmer as you rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

“if they do a part two, i'll wait and audition for iman for remember the time, michael's first on screen kiss in all of his short films,” you said with a teasing smile.

jaafar raised an eyebrow. “oh, yeah? if you wanted to kiss me, you could just ask.” for a split second, your brain completely short-circuited. you stared at him, trying to decide if he'd actually just said that or if your imagination had gotten the better of you.

“hmm, you're so confident you're gonna get the role?” you teased, finally finding your footing again.

he laughed, shaking his head. “no, so if i don't, i'll have to watch you kiss someone else.”

your smile only widened. “now who wants to kiss who so bad?” you teased, thoroughly enjoying the way his cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of red.

it was impossible not to smile triumphantly at finally making him just as flustered as he'd made you, but your teasing only lasted for a moment. almost without thinking, you found yourself leaning a little closer across the table and jaafar noticed.

his smile softened again, his expression losing every ounce of playful confidence as something quieter settled over him. he lifted one hand slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, before gently cupping your jaw. his thumb rested lightly against your cheek, his touch careful and warm, as if he was still making sure this was really happening.

you both leaned in at the same time, closing the last few inches between you until your lips met in the middle in a soft, lingering kiss, right there in the middle of the coffee shop. it was gentle and tentative in all the best ways, like two people who had spent months dancing around their feelings had finally allowed themselves to stop pretending they weren't there.

when you finally pulled back, neither of you could stop smiling.

acting class had changed after that.

not because you and jaafar started acting any differently, but because now that your feelings were out in the open, neither of you were particularly good at hiding them anymore. there was still a level of professionalism the two of you maintained during class, always committed to your scenes and giving each other honest notes afterward, but the little things had become impossible for everyone else to miss.

the way he'd instinctively save the seat beside him before every class started, how the two of you were always the last to leave because one conversation somehow turned into five, or the soft smiles that would spread across both of your faces whenever your teachers announced you were paired together again. it didn't take long before everyone in the class realized there was clearly something more going on between the two of you.

for months, your lives settled into a routine that felt so natural it was hard to remember what acting class had been like before jaafar walked into it. the two of you continued performing together and keeping things mostly professional while you were there, but the moment class was over, he was yours.

some nights he took you out to dinner, while other nights you cooked together in your apartment, laughing every time one of you inevitably made a mess in the kitchen. movie nights became a weekly tradition, usually ending with your dog atlas insisting on curling up across both of your legs at the foot of your bed, refusing to move no matter how many times either of you tried.

sleepovers became so common that waking up beside jaafar started feeling as ordinary as waking up alone once had, and somewhere over the course of those months, he realized he didn't want to keep calling you the girl he was dating. he wanted you to be his girlfriend.

then came the day.

the moment graham king walked into your acting class, every conversation in the room came to an abrupt stop. nobody expected one of hollywood's biggest producers to casually walk into an acting studio, and judging by the confused looks everyone exchanged, no one had the slightest idea why he was there.

after introducing himself, he began talking about the michael biopic, explaining that after an extensive search, they had finally found the actor who would portray michael jackson.

sitting beside jaafar, you leaned over with a grin and gently nudged his arm. “did you audition like i told you to?” you tease.

jaafar let out a small laugh, but it did little to settle the nerves that had been building in his stomach since the moment he'd walked into class that morning.

you had noticed something was off almost immediately. he had been quieter than usual, smiling whenever you looked at him but seeming distracted, as though something was constantly pulling at the back of his mind. you'd assumed he was nervous about an audition or maybe something going on with his family, never imagining that the reason for his anxiety was sitting only a few feet away from him.

because jaafar already knew exactly why graham was there.

he knew that within the next few minutes, everyone in the room would learn who he really was, and as excited as he was for the announcement itself, all he could think about was you.

for weeks he'd been carrying around a completely different plan for today. after class, he was going to take you to dinner at one of your favorite restaurants before finally asking you to be his girlfriend. he'd thought about what he wanted to say more times than he could count, wanting the moment to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

now, he wasn't sure if he'd even get the chance.

he'd never wanted to keep something this big from you. graham had made it clear from the beginning that nobody in the acting class was to know he was jermaine jackson's son or michael's nephew. the entire point of sending him there was so he'd be treated like every other aspiring actor, not like someone with one of the most recognizable last names in the world. he needed to learn, to struggle, and to grow without anyone treating him differently because of who his family was.

still, that didn't stop the guilt that had quietly settled in his chest over the months he'd spent getting closer to you.

he'd told you stories about growing up, about his parents, his siblings, his aunts and uncles, carefully dancing around names every single time. there had been so many moments he'd wanted to tell you the truth, especially as your relationship became more serious, but every time he thought about it, he remembered the promise he'd made and convinced himself he'd explain everything once he was finally allowed to.

he just hadn't wanted you to find out like this.

“and we're excited to announce the lead for the michael movie is... jaafar jackson,” graham said. your entire body seemed to freeze.

you watched as jaafar slowly stood from his seat, an almost shy smile spreading across his face before he walked over to graham and accepted a congratulatory hug. for a moment, you couldn't hear anything except the pounding of your own heartbeat, your brain struggling to catch up with what had just been said before the room suddenly erupted into applause, cheers, and countless voices talking over one another in complete disbelief.

“this is jaafar's first acting role, so we sent him here to get some acting lessons and told him not to tell anyone his surname or that he's michael's nephew or that this class was to help him prepare for the role, so jaafar didn't lie to you all, we did,” graham explained, almost as though he knew exactly what everyone in the room was thinking.

while your classmates crowded around jaafar with congratulations and endless questions, his attention never left you. through the sea of people between you, his eyes searched your face, desperately trying to read an expression he suddenly couldn't understand.

you looked completely stunned.

your eyes were wide as you sat quietly in your seat, your hands folded together in your lap while everything you'd learned about jaafar over the last year replayed in your mind. all those stories about his family where he had never once said a name. the countless conversations you'd had about auditions and acting. every date, every night he'd spent at your apartment, every moment you'd shared together. for months, you'd fallen in love with a man who had kept something so unimaginably huge from you.

but even through the shock, graham's words echoed in your mind. jaafar didn't lie to you all, we did. he hadn't been allowed to tell you.

that realization didn't erase your surprise, but it kept your heart from immediately assuming the worst because, knowing jaafar the way you did, you couldn't imagine him willingly keeping something like this from you unless he truly had no choice.

your acting teacher eventually dismissed class early, knowing nobody was going to be focusing on scene work after an announcement like that.

the second you stood from your chair, jaafar felt his stomach drop, you were the first person to walk out of the room.

his smile faded almost instantly as panic settled over him. after quickly excusing himself from graham and apologizing to the classmates still trying to congratulate him, he hurried after you, his only thought being that he couldn't let you leave believing he'd intentionally kept this from you.

“baby,” he gently grabbed your wrist once you were both outside and turned you around. you didn't pull back from him, but you also didn't know what to say. t

here were so many thoughts racing through your mind that you couldn't seem to grab onto just one long enough to put it into words, and judging by the nervousness written all over jaafar's face, he was terrified of what you were about to say.

“this whole time?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you'd intended and jaafar's heart sank.

“i wasn't trying to be malicious, or trick you, or intentionally lie to you, i promise,” jaafar says, his voice soft and full of sincerity. you nodded.

“i know but i just... i mean i get it, but... we've been going on dates for nearly a year, i've told you things i've never told anyone... i invited you into my home, my bed... i let you meet my dog, i don't let anybody meet atlas, because he usually hates everyone,” you say, and hearing yourself say it out loud makes you realize how ridiculous that last part sounds. despite everything weighing on your heart, you couldn't help letting out a small laugh. “but he really loves you,” you say, and jaafar can't help laughing too.

“i really love atlas too. i wanted to tell you, so many times, i did,” he says and you frown, because that was the other thing that held jaafar back from asking you to be his girlfriend.

he didn't want to enter a serious relationship with you if you didn't know the truth. every time he'd thought about asking you, the excitement of finally making things official had been followed by the same nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

if you found out afterward, would you think he'd built your relationship on a lie? would you feel betrayed that something so significant had been kept from you for so long? he wanted the two of you to start that next chapter with complete honesty between you, but every time he'd come close to telling you himself, he remembered the promise he'd made to graham.

he'd convinced himself that once the announcement was public, he'd finally be able to explain everything to you, answer every question you had, and then ask you to be his girlfriend knowing there would be no more secrets between you.

“did you not trust me? i wouldn't have said anything to anyone,” you say and jaafar immediately shakes his head.

“i know, baby... i know you wouldn't. i should've told you, i should've never let it be an ambush like that in class,” he says, guilt evident in his voice. “i hated watching you find out like that.”

you slowly ran your fingers back through your hair, trying to make sense of the last several months before your eyes suddenly widened.

“so months ago during one of our early dates when i told you that you should audition for the movie because you'd probably be good for it...” you trail off and he nods.

“yeah...” he says. you let out a disbelieving laugh, still trying to wrap your head around it.

“and all the stories about when your uncle would take you, your siblings, and your cousins to the amusement park and to the zoo, you really meant—” he gently cuts you off.

“family days at neverland ranch,” he says as he bites down on his lip to suppress a smile.

the words hung in the air between you, and suddenly every conversation you'd ever had with him replayed differently in your mind. all those stories he'd told you over coffee, during late-night drives home, or while the two of you were curled up watching movies suddenly had names attached to them.

he hadn't been vague because he didn't want to share his life with you. he'd been vague because he was trying to share as much of it as he could without breaking the promise he'd made.

“wow... wow,” you say, because you're not sure what else to say. “so michael is really your uncle?” you ask and jaafar nods.

“yeah.”

“so who's your dad?” you ask.

“you can't tell?” he asks with a teasing smile.

you roll your eyes, but you find yourself studying his face again, this time with completely different eyes than before. you'd spent nearly a year memorizing every feature of his face without ever thinking about who he resembled, but now that you knew the family he came from, the resemblance became impossible to ignore.

recognition washed over you almost immediately, followed by a laugh as you realized you'd noticed it before and convinced yourself you were imagining things.

“i always thought you looked like jermaine, but thought i was crazy for thinking that,” you say, and jaafar laughs while shaking his head.

“well you'd be right, jermaine is my dad,” he says.

you nodded slowly, and the silence that settled between you felt different this time. the brief moment of teasing had faded as the reality of everything finally settled over you. for nearly a year, you'd been falling in love with someone from one of the most well-known families in music, and you'd had absolutely no idea.

somehow, despite everything that had just changed, when you looked at jaafar, you still saw the same man you'd shared countless dinners with, the same man atlas adored for reasons neither of you could explain, the same man who held your hand during movies and kissed you goodbye after every date. he didn't suddenly feel like someone else.

he still felt like jaafar.

“i should probably... go now,” you say, needing a little time to process everything you'd just learned. jaafar's heart immediately dropped.

“wait, before you do... can i tell you what i wanted to tell you today?” he asks, and you raise an eyebrow, surprised that after everything that had just happened, there could possibly be something else he wanted to say.

“you had something to follow up being told you're michael jackson's freaking nephew?” you ask, and a soft chuckle escapes him.

“i had a whole plan for today, for after class. i was going to ask you to get dinner with me again, and i had this whole speech prepared,” jaafar says.

you raise an eyebrow. “a speech?”

“a big one,” he says, the nervous smile on his face making it obvious he'd probably rehearsed it over and over in his head.

despite everything still swirling around in your mind, the image of jaafar standing in front of his bathroom mirror practicing a speech made the corners of your mouth lift into the first genuine smile you'd had since graham's announcement. seeing that smile appear on your face seemed to let him breathe for the first time all afternoon, and you realized he wasn't worried about whether you knew he was a jackson anymore.

he was worried about whether you still wanted whatever the two of you had been building toward for the last year. you walked over to the bench nearby before sitting down, then looked up at him and nodded toward the empty spot beside you.

“okay, i'll hear your speech,” you say.

jaafar lets out a quiet laugh, relief softening every bit of tension in his face as he realizes you're giving him exactly what he'd hoped for.

a chance.

“during this dinner, i wanted to tell you that i’ve never met anyone like you. i had come to this acting class to learn, before taking on the weight of a global icon, i expected to go through monologues, learn techniques, learn what it means to be an actor, but i hadn’t expected you,” jaafar says.

your smile immediately softens, warmth blooming in your chest despite everything that had happened over the last hour. he was standing there in front of you, clearly nervous, pouring his heart out exactly the way he'd planned to before his entire world had been turned upside down. as sweet as it was, though, you couldn't resist teasing him just a little.

“is the whole speech this corny?” you ask. jaafar lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground for a second before looking back at you.

“that right there, is one of the things i love most about you, because i'm in love with you... and i was scared that if you knew who i really was that maybe you'd end up only seeing the jackson name. you made me feel normal, where i didn't have to be the man who came from a famous family, i could just be jaafar, a first time actor trying to learn what the hell to do,” he says.

you let out a soft laugh at the end of his sentence, but it was quickly overtaken by the sting behind your eyes.

he loved you. he hadn't stumbled over the words or said them by accident. he'd said them with complete certainty, like he'd been carrying them around for months, just waiting for the right moment to finally let you hear them.

suddenly, the shock of everything you'd learned that afternoon became so much smaller than the man standing in front of you. the famous last name, the movie, the pressure that was about to consume his life, none of it seemed nearly as important as the vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for you to hear him out.

“jaafar…” you say.

he gently shakes his head with a small smile, he's not done.

“i love our movie nights. i love when atlas lays on our legs and i can't move because it means i get to have you closer. i love when you dance while cooking when you think no one's watching you. i love how you yell at characters in movies for making dumb choices. i love you, baby, and i'm sorry i didn't tell you who i was sooner and you had to find out with everyone else, but i would love for you to be my girlfriend, if you'll still have me,” jaafar says.

your eyes widened as the last of his words settled over you, and before you could stop them, tears spilled down your cheeks. every little thing he'd listed wasn't some grand romantic gesture, they were the ordinary moments, the quiet moments, the ones that happened when nobody else was around.

he hadn't fallen in love with some perfect version of you, it made your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

jaafar finally let out the breath he'd been holding before walking over and sitting down beside you on the bench. the adrenaline that had been carrying him through his confession suddenly disappeared, leaving him feeling almost lightheaded as he took a slow, steadying breath. he'd finally said everything he'd spent weeks rehearsing.

now all that was left was your answer.

“i love you too, jaafar... it hit me so hard it scared me, but seeing you curled up asleep in my bed, i just thought to myself... i always want to wake up like this, next to him. i don't care what your last name is. i don't care if you came from the richest family or the poorest. i love you, and i would love to be your girlfriend,” you say.

the moment the words left your mouth, the nervousness he'd been carrying all day completely melted away. without wasting another second, jaafar reached up and gently cupped your face before pulling you toward him, kissing you with everything he'd been holding back for the last hour.

you melted into him just like you always did whenever he kissed you, your arms naturally wrapping around his neck as your fingers found the curls resting against the nape of his neck, gently playing with them the way you knew he loved. the kiss was slow and unhurried, filled with every emotion the two of you had struggled to put into words that afternoon.

when you finally pulled apart, neither of you moved very far away. your foreheads nearly touched, your noses brushing as you both smiled through damp eyes, completely content just to exist in the quiet moment the two of you had fought so hard to get back.

“the next few years... however long it takes to make this movie... it's going to be a lot,” he whispers to you.

you nodded before answering just as quietly. “i know.” there wasn't any fear in your voice, only understanding.

you'd watched how dedicated he'd been to acting over the last year, and if portraying michael required even more of him than acting class had, then you already knew the road ahead wasn't going to be easy. you weren't walking into this relationship expecting all of his time or attention. you knew this role meant something bigger than either of you.

“between rehearsals and filming, i don't know what my schedule will always look like, but i promise... i will always prioritize our weekly dates,” jaafar says.

you smiled and nodded.

you'd already anticipated that the movie was going to consume most of his life for a while. it was the opportunity of a lifetime, one he'd worked unbelievably hard for, and you would never ask him to choose between you and the dream he'd sacrificed so much to achieve.

instead, you reached over and intertwined your fingers with his.

“i'll be here every step of the way,” you promise.

the conviction in your voice made something soften behind his eyes. through everything that had happened that day, through the fear that you'd walk away after learning who he really was, the only thing he'd wanted was for you to still choose him, and you had.

“i love you,” he says.

the words still felt new.

hearing them sent warmth flooding through your chest all over again, and you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face. you weren't used to hearing someone say them to you like that, with such certainty and tenderness, but you already knew you could spend the rest of your life listening to him.

“i love you too,” you whisper back.

his smile only grew before he leaned in and kissed you again.

Jaafar had slipped away while you were asleep. The sheets on the abandoned side cooled your skin. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the television downstairs. 

A warm glow peeked from the cracked door, softening the darkness in the hallway. You stood and padded out the room to investigate. 

You crept down the dark wooden treads, your hand holding the slim black metal railing with a light grip. The highest section of the L-shaped sofa came into view, and after a few more steps, so did your man.

There he was, stretched comfortably across the sofa, his eyes glued to the screen.

A mischievous smile danced across your face and you hopped down the last few steps before turning into the kitchen. The soft patter of your bare feet on the cold tile echoed through the space. You stopped at the cabinet, opened it, and retrieved a glass. 

Water streamed into the cup as you filled it halfway before pulling it away from the dispenser. Diverting your gaze from the refrigerator, you looked at Jaafar.

Your eyes moved lower over his lean physique. He clutched the controller lazily beneath his chest, long, thick fingers working the buttons without a second thought. His plain white tee had ridden up, exposing his happy trail. 

The cold marble tickled your belly as you leaned forward against the kitchen island, taking another sip of water. You caught the print in his light gray sweatpants lying flaccid against his thigh, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

The familiar heat deepened between your thighs the longer you admired him. He looked completely absorbed in the game.

Before a nasty thought could cross your mind, a random piece of ice fell out of the dispenser with a clatter.

The sound was loud enough for Jaafar’s head to snap in your direction. His fingers halted on the controller. Your gaze met his, a boyish smile spreading across his lips.

“Did you sleep well, baby?”

“Mhm. I just needed some water.”

“Come here.”

You couldn’t conceal the goofy smile forming on your mouth that accompanied you as you made your way out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

You weren’t the clingy type. You enjoyed your own space often. But whenever you spent a few days at Jaafar’s place, you always gravitated toward him. He gave you that sense of security.

Jaafar sat up, moved the controller to the side, and opened his arms for you. You happily scooted closer, tucking yourself against his chest and burying your face in his neck. 

“I missed you.” You pouted. “Why’d you leave me upstairs?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He grinned, wrapping his arm around you. “You look so peaceful when you sleep.”

“Aww, that’s really sweet, baby,” you cooed, placing a light smooch against his skin. “But I want you.”

Jaafar’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right? What do you want, doll?”

You raised your head from his neck and smiled, your eyes meeting his, your arm resting on his chest. 

“First, I want plenty of kisses,” you said, leaning forward to press a gentle peck to his lips.

He smiled into the kiss, his thumb brushing along your cheek before he stole another. The video game droned on in the background, forgotten as the two of you traded slow, wet kisses. A laugh escaped you when he chased you for one more, pulling you close until there was hardly any space left between you.

“Anything else?” 

You nodded and bit your lower lip as your hand traveled down his body, making its way down slowly until you reached your destination. Your hand stopped at the top of the bulge in his sweats, semi-hard, stiffening each second your palm rested there.

“I wanna play with this pretty dick until it gets nice and hard for me. Please?”

“Damn,” Jaafar chuckled. "Go ahead. It's yours, ma.”

You hummed in delight and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Jaafar lifted his hips, helping you slide the fabric down to his knees.

His dick sprang free with a light tap against his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking from base to tip. He never took his eyes off yours.

You released him and slid down to your knees in front of him. The soft rug grazed your knees as you peered up at him.

You pressed your hands against his thighs, loving the warmth of his skin. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, firm and solid, a reminder of the hard work he put into training.

Jaafar looked down at you, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

He grabbed himself and tapped the swollen tip against your full, parted lips, smearing his pre-cum across them. The stickiness lingered on your skin, and you licked it up, savoring the taste. 

“Open up, princess.”

A moan of pleasure vibrated through your chest. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Jaafar sighed, his head lolling back. Lost in the sensation, his hand instinctively reached for your head, his fingers threading through your curls.

Your lips wrapped around him, slowly guiding him down your throat inch by inch. He groaned. Your hand grasped his thigh, fingers tracing the taut, defined muscle. 

Jaafar’s hips jerked forward with sudden force. The tip pushed deeper, catching the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex.

You gagged hard, your throat tightening around him. Saliva coated him, making each movement easier. Tears welled in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away.

“That’s it.” A tremor ran down his spine.

He held your hair, guiding your rhythm. “You’re doing so well, sweetie.”

You moaned around him in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, encouraged by the wet sounds filling the room. One hand worked at his base while the other occasionally squeezed his sack His grip steadied, holding you in place as his breathing grew heavier.

“Keep taking care of Daddy...” 

His words made you remove your hand from his balls and reach down to rub your slick-coated clit. The praise, the dirty talk, and the way he took your throat made you even slicker with arousal.

Jaafar sensed that familiar pull deep in his core, but he wasn’t ready. He always put your pleasure first. When he gently pulled away, you whined in disappointment.

”’S okay, baby,” he reassured, sliding his hand from your head to your chin. He gently tipped your chin up until your eyes met his.

“Look at that pretty face.” Jaafar smiled, his gaze lingering on your spit-slick lips. “Come sit on this dick.”

You stood, peeling the tank top over your head before letting it fall to the floor. The slight chill in the air caused your nipples to stiffen. Next came your drenched panties, your slick clinging to the fabric as you slid them down your legs.

Now completely nude, your brown skin shimmered beneath the low living room light. Every curve and contour of your body glowed.

Jaafar’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. His heart pounded as he admired you, watching your breasts rise and fall with each breath, taking in the smooth lines of your waist and the gentle slope of your belly. He didn’t know how he got so lucky.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, awe and desire woven into his voice. 

You climbed back onto the sofa and straddled him, your thighs pressed against his. Jaafar adjusted himself before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other.

As you lifted yourself onto your feet, you teased him at your entrance, your slick adding extra glide before you slowly lowered yourself. Your toes curled into the sofa cushion.

Jaafar leaned in, his soft lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. He pulled away just enough for your warm breaths to mingle as your eyes locked.

You smiled as you sank down onto his dick. A low, throaty moan escaped you as pleasure and the slight sting of the stretch washed over you. Your eyes settled on where your bodies met, watching him disappear inside you.

You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers brushing the curls at his nape as you cradled his head. You slowly rolled your hips, savoring the stretch.

“Yeah. Just like that, baby.” He nodded, watching you. “Take what you need.”

His large hands settled on your hips, his nails digging into your flesh as you moved.

“Mhm. Now bounce on it.”

“Ooh, I love it so much.”

You smiled, planting your hands on his chest before lifting yourself and coming back down on his dick with more purpose.

The way you rode him drove him wild.

He gave your ass a slow squeeze, your cheeks bouncing lightly against his palm each time you came up.

“Jaafar…” you hissed, eyes half-closed in bliss. “It’s so big.”

He stared at you with hooded eyes. Then, with a sharp smack, he popped your ass cheek. The sound echoed throughout the room; the sting made you gasp.

The sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room as your creamy essence coated his dick. Each time you came down, the tip grazed your cervix. Your body trembled, clinging to him with every movement.

“Baby, you’re gonna make me…”

“I know, Mama. Let it happen.” 

Jaafar tightened his grip on your waist, pinning you in place. He slammed into you, matching the rhythm of your bounces.

His forehead rested against yours as he searched your face. “You close, baby? Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah…” you whimpered. “I’m so close.”

“There you go,” Jaafar moaned. “Make a mess on me.”

His strokes became more urgent and powerful, driven by a desperate need to release. Each thrust landed deep, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh my God…”

A breathless cry escaped your lips. Your legs shook as you surrendered to the pleasure rushing through you.

You pulsed around him, milking him for every drop as you rode out the last moments of your climax.

“Ah, shit.” Jaafar grunted. His body tensed as his dick twitched, releasing hot streams of cum deep inside you. “You’re so good, pretty girl.”

You melted against him as Jaafar’s large hands kneaded your ass while he pressed lazy kisses along your jawline.