You hadn't expected to be there. Still not quite understanding how Betty was able to drag you out to a bar downtown on Halloween. Your weren’t the going out type, in any sense of the word. The thought was always just... overwhelming.

Maybe you still weren’t accustomed to the city. Your mother had told you this would happen. That it was too big and you were used to a world too small.

Despite lacking in the social variety, something you even struggled with back in your hometown, you had fallen in love with the world and wanted to see it. In some way, even if it was baby steps. That being said, you hadn't been doing too well. You’d been working at the Daily Bugle as a writer for a few months now and had staved off every single invite thrown your way. An excuse always on your lips. Guilt nipping at your sides when your coworker’s faces would fall in disappointment. Looking away awkwardly as Betty would look at you knowingly, but not saying anything.

You weren’t the only one, as soon as you’d say no, they'd turn to Michael. Who of which, would look over his shoulder with a bagel half way to his mouth and a sort of dumbfounded look to his face. Muttering a, "what?" Completely clueless to the discussion happening around him.

"We're getting drinks tonight," Betty would say, eyes already on her desk because she knew what the answer would be.

But now there you were, sitting in a vinyl booth with cracks in it and the lights a dark orange and purple for the holiday. John brought over a flight of shots, all looking like an odd arrangement of colors that shouldn't be safe to consume.

"What's in them?" You asked.

He shrugged, grinning and reaching for one. "No idea."

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyeing the alcohol warily before grabbing one. It was a strange green color. Maybe supposed to be Frankenstein's Monster themed.

Just about to tilt the glass back at your lips, someone approached the table. Stumbling a bit as he ran into the corner of another booth.

"Sorry I'm late," Michael apologized, smiling a little sheepishly with dimples on show and handsome enough to heartbreak.

You blinked up at him, shocked by his presence and he seemed to halt in his steps as his eyes fell on you.

"I didn't know you were coming out tonight." He said, his voice low but carrying over the Halloween playlist the bar was playing.

Your lips parted, brain short circuiting for some reason. He looked handsome in his costume. It wasn't anything crazy. He was dressed in a cheap Dracula outfit. A boyish charm to it because he was still wearing his thick framed glasses.

Michael slid into the seat next to you, grabbing the last shot from the flight and threw it back without any hesitation. His face screwed up in momentary disgust.

You looked down at your own shot, your heart thudding in your ears. You might as well, you were there after all. You’d probably need the liquid courage and you tipped the rancid liquid back, your tongue souring.

Michael suddenly bumped your shoulder and you looked up at him, starstruck for a moment at his smile.

"It's good to see you."

"You see me every day."

"Yeah but, it's different."

You looked down at the table, not knowing what to say and thankful that the group swept Michael into some conversation about John’s latest article.

You weren’t quite sure if it was the alcohol that was making you feel hazy. Because you let your anxiety catch up to you, you were on your fourth cocktail of the night, but you felt... off. And not in any sort of ditsy intoxicated way. You had half hoped the drinks would soothe your mind. Lull your thoughts into silence. But apparently your physiology had other plans. Everything felt dialed to eleven. The noise. The sounds. The heat. Your clothes not fitting right. Your bones itched.

Too much.

You just needed to breathe. Yet as you tried to inhale slowly, it felt cloudy. Nothing was getting in. Your lungs expanded around nothing. Panicked eyes flicked over your coworkers, all drunk and laughing with heads thrown back. You couldn't even hear what they were talking about. Muffled and distorted.

Breathe. Why can't I breathe?

Your heart picked up and stumbled.

Michael turned to you suddenly, frowning, He might've said something. Might've asked if you were okay. Looking at you like he could see and that made it all so much worse.

You stood up without a word, using the table for leverage. Every limb felt too heavy and your head swam as you looked around desperately for an out. You just needed air. Air and you’d be fine. You had to be fine.

Your eyes caught the glow of an exit sign and your body practically slumped against it as you shoved it open, the sound of your shoes hitting damp cement echoed faintly in ears. You sucked in a breath, the air cold but... but it was wrong. Your vision swam, taking in the sight of skyscrapers. Cars honking and engines roaring. People shouting laughter as they stumbled out of bars. Crowded and loud and not what you needed. You needed—

Your shoulder hit the brick wall harshly as you slumped over, head spinning. Was your mom right? Were you in over your head? You couldn't even go out with people you considered friends and... God, did they even consider you a friend? Why would they? You barely gave them the time of day. Barely talked at work. Eyes focused on your article and headphones over your ears. Not knowing how to talk to any of them unless they started it. You weren’t even trying.

Sliding to the ground, the brick wall tore at your shirt but you didn't care. You didn't care as the rain soaked ground stained your clothes and you pulled your knees up to your face, pressing your eyes harshly into them until multicolored dots appeared. Your head was spinning and you felt nauseous. Awful. Like you could throw up your own skeleton and you were half tempted to try and yank it out. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Hey."

Your head flung up and it would've slammed into the wall behind you if his hand hadn't shot forward and cradled the back of your skull.

Michael was knelt down in front of you, his brows furrowed. Looking concerned and it made you feel worse.

"I'm fine," you blurted. It was all you could think of.

His head tilted to the side, lips pressed together in a way that told you he thought you were full of it.

"What's wrong?" He asked, completely ignoring your last statement. Inching a little bit closer like he was approaching a wounded animal. His hand gently fell from the back of your head to rest against the side of your throat, his thumb gently brushing over your racing pulse.

You didn't mean to but you leaned into his touch. The warmth of him comforting and the roughness of his hand grounding you a little bit.

"Nothing, just... I don't know, overwhelmed I guess. I'll be fine, Michael."

His eyes flicked between yours, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment. "You can talk to me, you know." He said slowly, offering you a slightly lopsided smile. "I don't bite."

When Michael pulled away, your stomach dropped in both disappointment and panic, but it was momentarily abated as he sat down next to you and leaned against the wall of the building. The lights of the city reflected in his glasses as he looked around before peering down at you. "I know the city can get a bit much."

Your lips parted, still feeling breathless but you weren’t sure if it was your panic attack or him. "How'd you know?"

He shrugged a shoulder, the action causing him to gently bump against you. "I get overwhelmed, sometimes."

You looked down at your shoes, shoving some gravel around. "Really? Even after living here your whole life?”

Michael nodded but was quiet for a moment. "The noise catches up to everyone sometimes." he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment and you took the opportunity to look at him. Really look at him.

He was beautiful.

"I can’t help but notice everything, so yeah. It gets loud," he muttered before slowly opening his eyes and you didn't have the thought to look away. Couldn't if you tried.

"How do you deal with it?" You asked, speaking low in fear you’d shatter whatever bubble that had surrounded you and drowned out the sounds of the city.

Michael leaned his head against the wall, still looking down at you and he smiled, bumping his knee into yours. "Distractions, mostly. Finding pockets in the city that help drown everything out. The sunsets too off the harbor, you’d be surprised how quiet it gets in the evening."

"That sounds beautiful."

He hummed, looking at you but seeing something far away. Echoes of a childhood clouded by nostalgia.

"The air is different. I don't know if clean is the right word, I mean it’s the harbor, but it was... I don't know."

"Calm?” You offered and he nodded.

"Yeah, calm."

"Would you ever move away?” You wrung your hands in your lap. The thought had been silently plaguing you for weeks. Shutting it off before it could take roots but you knew it was already blooming. It felt weak for even considering moving back home. Pathetic. A failure. Picturing your mom's face made your stomach churn.

Michael sighed, his lashes dark over his eyes as he watched you. Everything about him was sharp, visually at least. But there was such softness to him, like he knew how to handle fragile things carefully. He knew how to be gentle.

"No," he eventually admitted. "I’d be lost without New York, despite how chaotic it gets."

You finally offered up your own smile. "I don’t know, maybe you weren’t to be a farmer or something. Michael Jackson the farmer has a ring to it."

"Oh, does it?" He laughed, the sound light but rough around the edges. Hearing that sound was like a shot of strong liquor. But the sweet kind that goes down easy and it went straight to your head.

He was still smiling, but his lips pressed together and he considered you for a moment. So close and his breath was warm on your face. "Why do you always do that?"

Your own smile fell a bit, "do what?"

"Divert the conversation away from you."

It was your turn to shrug. "Not much to tell–"

Michael shook his head. "People want to know you. It wouldn't hurt to let them."

Your brows furrowed, chest feeling tight. "Are you people?"

His hand brushed against yours, calloused and warm. Comforting. His thumb slid against your knuckles as he looked at you. “I can be."

Michael seemed to be everywhere, yet nowhere when you expected him.

He'd come in late to work like always, throwing out muttered good mornings with a cup of what you knew was orange juice instead of coffee in his hand, that morning's edition of the paper tucked under his arm. There was a slight change in his routine, though.

Your desk wasn't on his route to his own. You were tucked away against the far wall, the morning light always bathing your desk in an annoying amount of sunlight with a glare on your screen that made it difficult to edit. Your hand was halfway to your cup of tea when a shadow suddenly fell over you.

"Mornin'." Michael grinned at you.

You froze, hand still hovering uselessly near your tea with your lips parted. Eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Um..." you blinked. "Morning?"

Michael dipped his head, looking sheepish before turning on his heel to head to his desk across the bullpen.

When he walked away, your eyes fell on Betty, who was looking at you quizzically before returning her attention back to her keyboard.

He'd say good morning to you now everyday, directly.

Half of you hated how much it made your day. Half of you didn't mind.

Snow had fallen in a blanket over New York City.

Christmas neared with every hour and you couldn't help but smile as the office slowly got more and more decorated.

The tree John had put up was a little pathetic, in a Charlie-Brown-Christmas sort of way, but it only made it more charming. Multicolored fairy lights were strung around the office along with tinsel and it made long nights a little easier to bear.

The hour was late as you were working on some of your latest articles, chewing on a pen as you hummed along to Christmas music you had playing in your headphones. You were a sucker for the holidays, it was a brief moment where you felt like the world slowed down a bit and got fuzzy at the edges.

You felt the vibration of someone knocking against your desk and your eyes flicked up, not all that surprised to see Michael standing there with two cups, one had steam billowing from the rim. He was often there late since he'd disappear for random hours at end. Your boss hardly gave him a hard time for it nowadays, given Michael usually had a Spider-Man interview to type up.

You slid your headphones off, the sound of Winter Wonderland playing faintly and the Christmas lights reflected in Michael’s glasses as he smiled down at you.

"Hot coco?" He offered, reaching a hand out and you thankfully took it. Repressing a shiver as your fingers brushed.

"Thanks, Michael." You mumbled before blowing on the hot drink. He'd even put whipped cream on top, something you weren’t aware the office kitchen had. You hummed in content as the sweet contents hit your tongue.

When you lowered the cup, the look Michael was giving you was unreadable.

"What?" You said dumbly.

His smile was soft and he lifted a hand hesitantly, "nothing, you just got..."

Your breath hitched as his thumb swiped against your lips, the rough pad of his finger sending jolts of electricity through you. Staring as he pulled his hand back, the sight of whipped cream on his thumb and you were sure you were as red as a tomato when you watched him suck his finger clean.

"Thanks," you muttered numbly, your mouth suddenly dry.

Michael was blushing too, but waved you off and hid behind his own cup as he took a sip of his orange juice.

"So, what are you working on?" He asked, voice a little rough around the edges as he rounded your desk to stand beside you.

His presence was... a lot. You didn't know how else to put it. Consuming but not in any way that was uncomfortable. He was warm and faintly smelt of cedar and citrus. A little bit of cinnamon too, given the gum he loved to chew.

"Um," you took another drink. Hoping it would knock some sense into you. “Just some of my latest stuff. Freelance. Also helping John with his latest article, he could proof read it fifty times and there’d still be a typo.”

"Freelance?" Michael raised a brow and set his drink down, leaning against your desk with one hand while the other rested against the back of your chair as he leaned closer to your monitor. "Can I see?"

"Oh," you were blushing for a whole other list of reasons. Showing your own personal work always felt leagues more vulnerable than anything else. "It's really not anything crazy, Michael."

He looked down at you, eyes an endless deep brown and dimples teasing at his cheeks as he smiled at you. "I'd love to read something, if you'd let me."

You gnawed at your lip as you considered him. This was Michael. Sweetheart, too good for this world Michael. He wouldn't be scrutinising or cruel. You knew that. You also knew he'd be honest. Maybe he was just the critic you needed to slowly step out of your comfort zone.

"Okay," you breathed, turning back to your computer and clicking on a few things before opening up your latest essay. You slid your mouse over to him, "have at it."

Michael looked at you for a moment before his gaze went to your writing and his gaze flicked seamlessly across the paragraphs.

Painfully silent.

You sat there as you wrung your hands, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the screen. Your throat tightened as you watched a crease form between his brows.

When he finished, he stood up and leaned against your desk, arms crossed and you buried your face in your hands.

"God, it’s awful isn’t it?"

You felt his fingers gently tug your hands away from your face.

"It’s perfect."

"Michael—"

"Kind of like you."

That shut you up, except for the disbelieving laugh that left you. “Ever the people pleaser."

It didn't mean anything. He was just being Michael.

"Which part is your favorite?" He asked, gesturing to your monitor and you considered for a moment before pointing at a section with a finger pressed to the glass.

"It's nothing award worthy but, I think I did a good job. I think the wording I chose made it…” you trailed off with a shrug. “Beautiful.”

Michael was quiet for a moment before his low voice swirled around you. "Yeah, I think so too."

When you looked up he quickly looked away and cleared his throat again. "So," he started. "You going to the office Christmas party?"

"Oh, I don't—"

"I'd love to see you," Michael offered and began to walk away. "You liven up the place."

And that's how you found yourself that upcoming Friday night.

You felt silly. Dressed up more than usual for a workday.

As you got ready you repeatedly told yourself it was not for Michael Jackson. Your dark blue sweater he had complimented months ago wasn't for him. Your skirt you ironed was especially not for him. Your heels you saved for special occasions were certainly not chosen at all for him. Not your sweet smelling perfume or the way you bothered to style your hair.

And all of it seemed to be true because two hours into the office gathering, Michael was nowhere to be seen.

You leaned against the wall, swirling your cider in your hand and the holiday music fell faintly in your ears mixed with chatter. You smiled faintly when addressed and helped take photos.

Trying desperately hard not to let the disappointment chew at your stomach.

You didn't know why you felt like that. Michael was in and out of the office all the time. A schedule not existent.

Hell, he was probably interviewing Spider-Man.

You couldn't compete with that. Not that Michael’s attention was a competition.

God, you felt stupid.

He was just a coworker with a knock-the-senses-out-of-you charm to him. That was all.

You should've known better than to let a few acts of kindness get to your head. It was presumptuous and egotistical of you to assume anything at all. And just flat out dumb. What would Michael want with you?

You looked down at your drink and bit the inside of your cheek. That was your problem. You would get too into your head but at the end of the day you’d just shrug it off as being pragmatic.

Pushing off the wall, you weaved your way to the kitchen and poured out your drink. You just wanted to lay down in your apartment. Curl up in a ball and cry in self deprecation as you put on a rom-com that set wildly unattainable expectations.

Shrugging on your coat, you muttered goodbyes to anyone who asked and finally took a breath as the elevator doors shut, slumping against the wall and watching the floors tick down with exhaustion.

When the doors dinged open, your eyes were in your purse as you dug for cash for a cab as you walked through the empty lobby. Heels clicking against the tile before you heard someone walk through the front doors just as you were walking out of them.

You didn't pay them much mind till you heard your name.

Looking up, you blinked in surprise at the sight of Michael through the door before taking a few steps back into the building.

His wool coat fit him snugly and his hands were shoved in his pockets. He looked bashful and romantic with snowflakes still stuck in his dark curls.

"Are you leaving?" He asked, shoulders slumped a little.

You bit at the inside of your cheek, your thoughts from earlier still loud in your mind. "Yeah, it's late and—"

"Stay." He blurted, looking surprised himself that he said it.

He's just being nice. Get over yourself.

"I'm gonna go, Michael." You offered a small smile, trying not to read too much into the way his face fell. "Merry Christmas."

You walked back out of the building, the cold immediately biting into your skin and you shivered. Your fingers trembling not just from the cold as you tried to wave a cab down.

Merely seconds passed before you heard footsteps approach. "Let me walk you home," Michael offered.

"But the party—"

"I only came to see you."

Your lips parted, not knowing what to say to that. Were you dreaming?

"Michael."

He smiled at you, his cheeks red from the cold as he stepped closer. "Let me make it up to you."

Your head was spinning and doubts, as always, crawled up your spine like a spider. Tickling each nerve ending and not letting you enjoy this the way you wanted to.

You swallowed thickly, looking away from him and out into the snow covered city. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

You didn't know why you felt like crying. You just felt... it sounded so pathetic, but you felt so small compared to him. Compared to everyone, really. A small town girl trying to make a name for yourself in New York City like so many others. Not unique or groundbreaking in anyway and Michael had met so many amazing people doing what he does as a journalist and you—

"You're thinking too much," he said quietly. His breath fogged in the air and you sucked in a breath as he brushed some hair away from your face. "Let me walk you home. Please?"

"Okay."

He nodded. "Okay, lead the way my lady." He gestured an arm out and you slowly turned, still hesitant.

The walk to your place was quiet but in a way that helped your heart calm down a bit. The distant sounds of the city a low lull and the streetlights caught in the glittering snow.

When you finally reached your building, you looked at him and raised a brow at his dumbfounded expression. "What?"

He shook his head, laughing a bit. "I didn't know you lived here."

"How would you?"

"It's just," he nodded down the street. "I live a block away."

Your own brows furrowed. "Then how in the hell are you always late in the morning?"

Michael waved you off, mumbling about being a heavy sleeper before he took a few steps closer to you. Looking at you intently, like he wanted to ask you something.

"You okay?" Is what he eventually landed on.

"Of course I am."

"I meant what I said."

You licked at your chapped, wind bitten lips. Doing your best to try and not think about how his eyes darted down to your mouth as you did so.

"I want to know you." His hand slowly lifted, resting gently against the side of your face, giving you the opportunity to pull away. When you didn't, he let his thumb lightly drag against your cheekbone. "Please, let me."

You leaned into his touch without thinking, the warmth of him being a magnet.

You didn't understand. Didn't understand him. Scared he'd get bored. Scared if you did let him know you, he'd lose interest.

Michael stepped closer, his other hand reaching up to rest gently against the side of your throat. "We'll go slowly, just... just teach me how to hold you properly and I swear I won't break you."

You shook your head. "You can't promise that." And part of you was terrified because he very well could. Michael could shatter you into pieces if he wanted to and you knew at the end of the day, despite how horrifying the heartbreak would be, you’d be thankful you even got to know him. He was just one of those people. A person that truly knew how to touch people with kindness. Tenderness. Giving glimpses of hope despite the world growing darker each day.

Michael’s eyes searched yours. "Then trust me."

"People don't always tell the truth."

He smiled, that boyish grin making your heart skip a beat. "If people always told the truth they wouldn't need trust."

You sniffed. "Fair enough."

Michael laughed lightly, the sound warming you up. "Is that a yes?"

Your own hand reached up and took hold of his wrist, taking in the warmth of him and feeling his own heartbeat. Steady and strong.

"Slowly?"

He nodded. "You set the pace, sweetheart."

Hell, you could've melted then and there.

Michael always let you catch your breath when you needed it.

Trying to offer his comfort in a way that wouldn't spook you into flight. Something you felt awful about, but he was beyond patient.

Giving you space when you needed it and holding you close when you might shatter.

Pulling you out of your head when you dug yourself deep into a hole. Feeling like a burden for the way you crashed sometimes, but he never seemed to mind.

You two weren't necessarily a thing. You had no idea what you were.

Friends seemed too... it didn't encompass you two correctly.

But you also weren't more than friends. At least that's what you assumed, given you’ve never kissed.

Though you thought about it often despite all your efforts not to, you really couldn't help it.

Feeling helpless as you looked at him from across the bullpen. Stealing glances when he was hunched over paperwork. Acting like you hadn't even seen him walk into the break room at lunch even though that was what you had been looking forward to all morning. Hand twitching with the urge to brush against his as he walked you home when he was able to.

It was hell, in a strange, painful and enjoyable way.

With Christmas gone and passed, John and a few others convinced you to go out for New Year's Eve.

Though you desperately wanted to know if Michael would be there, you didn't bother to ask. Even if he did say yes, it was never a guarantee with him.

You sat at a table, wine glass in your hand as you people-watched. Your dress provided little warmth. Betty had convinced you to go with something a little more revealing and not in your typical comfort zone. Albeit, it was gorgeous but you felt like an imposter.

You watched in a numb sort of detachment as the clock was a minute away from midnight. Watching people start to cheer louder, grins widening, couples getting closer. Your eyes danced around and faltered when a familiar pair of brown eyes met yours.

Closer and closer.

Thirty seconds.

Michael was wearing a suit. Different from ones he wore at the office. Glasses perched on his nose and hair still damp from a shower.

"Michael?”

"I'm sorry I'm late."

He took hold of your hands, pulling you up easily and you swayed a bit in your heels, the wine going straight to your head and you rested your palms against his chest to steady yourself. Breath hitching as his large hands rested against your waist.

"I didn't know you were coming."

Fifteen seconds.

"I didn't want to miss the turn of the earth with you."

You laughed lightly. The alcohol made everything a little hazy and warmer at the edges. A little easier.

"I'm happy to see you," the admission slipped past your lips and the smile he gave you was devastating.

Michael’s hands slid up from your waist to gently take hold of your face, tilting it up towards him.

Five seconds.

"Can I tell you something? Off the record?" He asked.

You blinked at him. Dazed and hormonal. You nodded, leaning into him.

The clock struck midnight and you didn't have a thought occur to mind as his face lowered and lips pressed against yours.

Didn't have a thought at all, simply the feeling of relief as you melted against him and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Thankful for the liquid courage as he deepened the kiss, tongue easily sliding into your mouth. Warm and you smiled into the kiss as you tasted hints of cinnamon.

You could do this.

You could be okay.

Slowly.

Michael’s hands dug into your hair, the crowd nonexistent, teeth gently bumping into each other and his glasses slipping down his nose as he kissed you like he'd been starving for it.

When you finally pulled back, his teeth gently tugged at your bottom lip. His grin sharp as he looked at you.

You knew you were red in the face for a whole list of reasons.

"Off the record?" You asked, voice wavering as you held onto him.

"Happy New Year." He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

He was a wonderful singer.

You noticed he had a habit of karaoke whenever he cooked. Dancing in a way that seemed second nature to him as he moved around the kitchen.

You’d watch from the couch, knees pulled up to your chest with your chin resting on top of them. A small smile on your lips.

A Bonnie Tyler song was blasting from the stereo, the beat crackling as he made pancakes despite it being 11pm.

The hours were odd.

Even for a journalist.

Noticing his lack of schedule at work was one thing, but you slowly started to spend nights at his.

Easing into... something. You didn't know.

He'd have random rain checks but insisted you stay and make yourself comfortable. Or you’d wake up in the middle of the night and he was gone, a sticky note on the nightstand saying John called him to do something. Sometimes he'd come back in the morning looking disheveled and wincing a bit, his notebook in hand and muttering about how he had an interview with Spider-Man.

"What's he like?" you asked one morning as you walked to work. One of the rare days where he'd actually be on time.

Michael hummed, shrugging. "What you'd expect, really. Humble. To the point." He smiled at you then. "Heroic."

You rolled your eyes. "Sounds like you have a crush."

Michael laughed and shook his head. "Wouldn't that be complicated."

"I don't know, seems like you're his type."

It brought you too much amusement as you watched him choke a bit on his drink.

"What?"

"You're the only person he does interviews with."

"That's because I'm a good journalist."

"Two things could be true at once, Michael."

Other things were odd, too. You supposed you noticed a while ago, though it remained in the back of your mind.

He was always bruised, something you were concerned about but he’d brush off your worry. Muttering about how he would get carried away when he would box at the gym.

Tugging his shirt down every time he lifted an arm to grab something off a shelf— your eyes briefly catching on a hint of blue and red underneath but you slotted it away into forgetful information. Not knowing what to do with it.

One day though, it settled.

The realization wasn’t slow by any means, more so a click in the brain.

The specifics of what led to the current events were fuzzy. You didn't really care to dwell on the details, not that you even would've had the chance.

Michael had been all over you, you can’t blame a girl for getting side tracked.

Nothing was special about the day initially. It was a Tuesday and the work day had been draining, as expected. Your eyes still hurt from hours of staring at a screen and Michael had been rampaged with questions from Jonah and Betty about his most recent interview with Spider-Man.

When the hour was running late, he knocked a fist on your desk and asked you to come over. Order some take-out, unwind.

How were you supposed to say no when he was looking at you like that?

An old Hollywood movie was playing faintly on the tv, a few boxes of Indian food spread out on the coffee table. Your breath felt a little tight in your chest and it had nothing to do with the spice.

Michael leaned back against the couch, legs spread far out in front of him, arm draped over the back and he was lightly playing with your hair. His fingers brushed against your scalp as he watched the movie.

If you were being honest, you had no idea what was going on. The music was nice, but so were the visuals. Not being able to help it as you kept looking into the corner of your eye.

Michael’s gaze slated to the side, dark brown catching in the light as he caught you staring and you looked away, blushing at the smile that stretched his lips.

"It's okay, you know?" He said quietly. Still twirling some of your hair around his fingers.

You looked at him again, a little breathless with his proximity. He was just so... beautiful. In every sense of the word.

"What's okay?" Your voice was quiet, a whisper carried faintly over the sound of the movie.

"This," he tugged your hair lightly, bringing you closer. "To want more. When I told you I wanted to know you, I meant it."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you resisted that urge to fly again. To lean away and say you didn't know what he meant. That it didn't mean anything.

Your heart thudded in your ears. Maybe you could be okay. With this. Maybe you could be fine.

"I know."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "So let me," his hand came up, thumb gently brushing against your bottom lip. "Teach me how to handle you properly."

"Michael.”

"Sweetheart," he tugged you a little closer, breath warm against your lips.

"Okay."

Michael leaned in closer, glasses perched on his nose. Looking at you intently.

"Okay?"

A laugh left you, involuntarily and a little hazy. "Yeah."

His mouth was on yours before you had the chance to blink, a hand burying itself in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you easily into his lap.

You felt weightless in his arms. A feeling you weren’t exactly sure how to describe but it made you feel strangely safe.

Your own hands twined themselves in Michael’s hair, the dark curls soft against your fingertips and his tongue easily mapped its way around your mouth. His smile into the kiss infectious.

He pulled back, dimples on show. You only had a moment to appreciate them before his mouth moved lower, trailing down your throat. Muttering between open mouthed kisses. "You're perfect."

You laughed, sighing in content at the feeling of his tongue sliding against your skin. "I'm really not."

"But you are."

"Michael—"

He took hold of your chin, making you look at him. His lips a little pink and tantalising. "Let me show you what I know."

Your brows furrowed but when you felt his grip tighten on your waist your breath hitched.

Then he stood up, taking you with him like it was nothing.

Your arms wrapped around his neck for support, not like you needed to. He held you easily as he walked to the kitchen and you felt light headed with anticipation.

Michael neared the counter, his arm sweeping contents to the side, sending a few things clattering to the floor but before any concern could flicker in your chest his mouth was on you again. You sat perched on the ledge, legs wrapped around him and fingers tugging at his shirt.

Michael’s hand was at your throat, the pressure light but intoxicating. His thumb trailing up and down along the center of your neck and pressing up against you between your legs and... he was a lot.

When you felt the hardness of him as he yanked you closer, an involuntary sound crawled up and slipped out of your mouth, right into his.

Michael paused before you felt him smile against your lips. He leaned back slightly, looking a bit dazed himself. Eyes dark beneath his lashes and his cheeks were tinted pink.

"Do you trust me?" His voice was low. Rough around the edges and heavenly.

You nodded before you even thought about it. But you supposed, yeah, you did.

A heartbeat passed before you watched him slowly lower himself to his knees. His large hands rested on your thighs as he pushed them apart gently, his eyes remained on you all the while.

Your hands were resting uselessly on his shoulders, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you stared at him wide eyed.

"Lift up for me?"

You didn't know if you were just hormonal or if it was the tone of his voice but you did as told almost immediately.

Your pants button and zipper were undone before you could blink and he was tugging them down your legs with your underwear, followed by your shoes.

"Michael..."

He was trailing kisses up your leg, his large hands caressing your skin before he took hold of your left thigh and hiked it over his shoulder.

A sort of guttural sound rumbling up his throat when he finally let his eyes fall between your legs.

"God, look at you."

On self-conscious instinct you tried to shut your legs but you weren’t going anywhere. His fingers dug lightly into your thighs which made your muscles twitch.

"Perfect," he mumbled before pressing a kiss directly to your clit that sent your hips jolting upward and your hands flying to his hair.

"Way to cut to the chase," you gasped in a half moan as his tongue began to work against you.

He hummed and you felt a jolt of electricity shoot up your spine, rocking against his face with embarrassment you were sure you’d feel in the morning.

"You taste like heaven," he panted, glasses fogged up as he ate you out like a man starved. His lips closed over you and you yelped when a finger sank inside of you.

Calloused. Larger than yours. Delicious.

His rhythm was even, curling up slightly and your back arched.

"More," you gasped. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. "Please."

"I was planning on it," Michael laughed lightly, looking up at you to gauge your reaction as he added another finger. His smile lazy as he watched your mouth drop open at the sensation of being stretched. Filled.

The slow drag of his fingers was torture and your face flushed red with the whine that left you.

It felt like a day dream, watching him between your thighs. Knealt down as if you were an altar he came to for worship.

Michael Jackson.

Shy, clumsy, nerdy Michael Jackson who was always late and always knew what to say.

He was so painfully perfect you could sob.

Why you? Why had you gotten so lucky?

"You're thinking too much," Michael said, picking up his pace and silencing your mind effectively as he then sucked your clit.

His fingers curled as he dragged them out and you felt the crash of an orgasm slam into you all at once. Nails digging into his scalp to hold him close, his tongue and fingers not stopping as he worked you through it. Smiling against you as you moaned his name.

You were panting heavily, hands falling from his hair to his shoulders as he slowly stood, his hands dragging up your legs as he did so. Your eyes heavy as they fell on his mouth which was glistening slightly.

Your rationality was cut off your shoulders, you were sure of it.

"Michael?”

"Hm?"

You slid off the counter, chest pressed against him and you reached up and took hold of his tie that had gotten loose. His hair was a mess and it made him look unkempt and terribly romantic.

You yanked on his tie, lowering his face to yours. "Bedroom."

He nodded, his enthusiasm nearly laughable if you weren’t so turned on. You stepped back, walking towards his bedroom and dragging him along by his tie. Michael followed like a love sick puppy as he stumbled over his feet trying to kick off his shoes.

You barely made it through the doorway of his room before you felt his hands take hold of your waist from behind and lift you, a laugh of surprise leaving you before he gently put you on the bed.

You were engulfed by him. Feeling him kiss up your back as he lifted your shirt, his fingers hot and searing against your skin. Turning underneath him, your hands pulled his face to yours, his mouth addicting and the smell of cedar and citrus was everywhere. His sheets soft beneath you as you felt his fingers work your bra off.

"Michael, please. I need—" His mouth latched onto the space beneath your jaw, sucking and biting and driving you insane. You tried to tug him closer if even possible.

He leaned back on his knees, staring down at you like you were some sort of miracle he'd been graced with as he undid his tie.

"You're perfect," he sighed after tugging his shirt off and your mouth watered at the sight of pure muscle with scars littering his skin and Christ, he was bruised again. Your fingers gently reaching out as they dusted over the injuries and the muscles in his stomach clenched as you did so.

"Stop saying that," you said quietly. Watching in a strange sort of fascination as Michael then undid his belt.

"You want me to lie to you?" He asked, his tone lower than you were ever used to hearing.

Your heart faltered and your brain short circuited as he took his pants off along with his boxers, the sight of all of him making you truly speechless.

Your eyes were heavy lidded as Michael crawled over you, his knee pushing your legs apart to make room for him to settle between your hips.

"Do you want me to lie and say I haven't thought about having you here like this for months?" He said into your ear, his lips grazing the shell and sending goosebumps over your flesh.

"I can lie and say I don't look at you everyday and fight the urge to kiss you senseless right in the middle of the office."

Your breath hitched when you felt the head of his cock brush up against your entrance, sliding up from the wetness and rubbing directly into your clit. The sound of Michael laughing low, vibrating in his chest against you made it feel like you were in some sort of opium induced haze.

He kissed up your neck to your mouth, catching your lips with a sort of ferocity that still had hints of restraint twined between it. You could tell he was holding back. And if he did, you thought you might cry.

You wanted all of him. In every way.

"I'm not perfect, Michael," you panted between kisses, your hands finding his hair again like a magnet. "But sometimes you make me feel like I am."

He paused, lifting his head to look at you and you couldn't help but smile at him as his glasses started to slip down his nose. You lifted a hand to take them, and you gently slid the frames off his face, blindly setting them down somewhere on the nightstand. Your breath hitching at how beautiful his eyes were.

"You want to know me, right?" You whispered.

He nodded, kissing the inside of your palm softly.

"Then let me know you, too."

Michael didn't take a moment to consider. Didn't seem to hesitate at your demand. He simply kissed you again and dragged both of your arms up above your head, twining his fingers with yours when you felt him start to push his cock inside of you.

The moan you let out was captured by his mouth. He was practically drinking you up, his own groan leaving him as he slowly pushed inside of your pussy. The pressure of it unlike anything you’d felt before.

His head fell into the crook of your neck and if you weren’t so dazed, you could've sworn he was shaking a bit.

"God, you're tight." He panted, teeth scraping against your searing skin. You thought he might've muttered perfect again but you didn't have time to think about it as he thrusted forward and completely bottomed out. The head of his cock bumping into your cervix and your hips bucked up into him on their own accord, your cunt clenching around him.

"Michael, oh my god." You cried, your fingers tightening in his hold as he began to move. The drag of his cock making you delirious before sinking back into you again, the pace slow and brutal and he barely seemed like he was holding it together as he breathed heavily into your ear.

His pelvis was grinding directly into your clit and if you didn't get more you genuinely thought you’d suffer from a psychotic break.

You laughed at the thought. He was making you lose your mind.

He lifted his head at the sound, peppering kisses across your face and smiling slightly, thrusting into you a little harder. "Something funny?"

Shaking your head, you looked at him, your mouth hung open as you moaned when he grinded against your clit again. "Please."

"Please, what?" He asked, looking a little too cocky. "Use your words, sweetheart."

How was this Michael? The first time you laid eyes on him you would've never expected he'd be the type of guy to eat you out on a kitchen counter.

"More, Michael. Please."

He picked up his pace a little bit but it wasn't enough and you felt insatiable.

"Michael."

Your tone was a little snappy but you couldn't currently find it in your heart to feel bad.

"I don't want to hurt you." The words were spoken into your mouth.

And if that didn't ignite a whole new flame of curiosity and desire...

Without thinking, you pulled your hand from his and wound it in his hair, yanking harshly to bring his eyes up to you. He didn't wince. It didn't seem to hurt him at all and you were half tempted to see what else he could take.

"Michael Jackson, if you do not fuck me with your full hearts content, I'm going to have a mental breakdown."

He blushed a little bit at your crude wording despite the fact his cock was buried deep inside of you and love bites were beginning to bloom across your body.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip as he looked at you. "You sure?"

You nodded. "Completely—"

He didn't let you finish as he pulled out before thrusting his cock back into you again almost violently, his bed frame sliding against the floor and slamming into the wall.

"Perfect," you moaned and when that got a laugh out of him, you thought you might come again by the sound alone.

It hurt a little bit and it was everything you needed. It really was. He was all over you, his hips slamming into yours with months of restraint snapping. One hand holding your jaw as he kissed you, his tongue tracing the side of your cheek as you moaned. Everything about him was electric. Powerful.

His other arm reached down and hooked beneath your knee, pulling it up so he could get deeper and the new angle made your head spin as you threw your head back and practically screamed his name.

Michael muttered praises into your skin as he fucked you like you asked. His bed frame rattling dangerously and the lewd sound of skin hitting skin filled the air.

You're taking me so well.

God, look at you.

You sound so pretty right now.

Say my name again, please.

You didn't realize you were crying till you felt his thumb scrape along your cheek.

"Fuck, you okay?”

You were crying from pleasure and if the sound of his swearing wasn't enough to drive you over the edge, it was definitely the dazed look to his eyes that did it.

"Michael, I'm..." you came with a cry, unknowingly biting his shoulder but he didn't seem to mind as he all but picked up his pace again. Working you through it and he moaned as he felt you clench around him.

"This is gonna sound so messed up, but you're gorgeous when you're crying. You know that, right?"

You weren’t sure if you answered him, you were sure the things leaving your mouth were unintelligible. And when you felt Michael start to falter in his pace, his thrusts getting harsher and more erratic, you knew he was close.

"One more for me, mama. Please." He kissed you again and you felt his hand slide between you before applying pressure to your clit in tight circles. "Together."

Your back arched and you seemed to come on his command and you felt the muscles in Michael’s stomach clench and tighten as he came inside you, your name a moan on his lips as he continued to thrust, not being able to stop himself chasing the high and when his eyes flicked down to where his cock was sliding in and out of you, you could've sworn you heard him whine.

The sound made you clench again and he shuddered before falling limp on top of you.

You were panting heavily but with difficulty, tugging on his hair to get his attention.

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled before rolling off you a bit but his arms remained fastened around you.

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, not quite sure if you were dreaming but... as your head rolled to the side there he was. Michael, though not out of breath by any means, the fucked-out look to him made your heart falter.

"I can't believe you're real." You whispered, not entirely meaning to say that out loud.

Michael laughed, lifting his head up to kiss you lightly on the forehead. "That good?"

"Oh, shut up." You sighed, leaning into his touch. "I don't know how you're not tired."

He shrugged. "I have great stamina."

That made you raise a brow and he blushed again.

When you woke up the next morning it was early. The sunrise only just beginning to kiss the skyline of the city.

Michael’s arm was heavy around your waist and when you moved a little bit, his hold on you tightened. Though when you looked over your shoulder, he was still asleep and...

Holy shit.

Your eyes were glued to the laundry basket and there it was.

A rumpled Spider-Man suit with the infamous mask discarded on the floor. Your stomach rolling a bit with the amount of blood on it.

You looked back at him, half convinced you were most certainly dreaming but no. No, this was all real. Michael was sleeping soundly wrapped around you, sunlight dancing along the planes of his face and making different hues of dark brown show in his otherwise black hair.

Either you were genuinely insane or Spider-Man was in bed with you.

Michael Jackson.

What?

When you felt him start to wake up, you panicked and shut your eyes, not knowing what else to do.

You felt him sigh against you as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before reaching over you to the night stand and grab something.

Your mind was spinning. Piecing together the scattered remnants of things you had seen but didn’t pay any mind to over the months. The odd hours. The bruises. The strength. The fucking suit hidden under his clothes that you sometimes got brief glances of.

"I know you're awake," he muttered. His voice still rough with sleep and sounding faintly amused.

You peeked an eye open and your breath hitched.

He had his glasses pushed up into his hair, looking at you because he knew you knew.

Michael smiled, a little hesitant. Maybe nervous. Did Spider-Man get nervous?

"Why?" You blurted.

His brows furrowed. "Why what?"

Your mind struggled to string together a sentence as his fingers traced patterns into your stomach.

"Why trust me with that?”

Michael’s eyes were so brown it felt surreal. Seeing them without the glasses to provide a shield in the daylight made you feel like you were admiring him for the first time all over again.

His hand gently rested against your cheek, his eyes searching yours.

Michael sighed, his hand sliding down from your face to take hold of your chin. Tilting your mouth up to his and he kissed you softly before leaning back just enough to speak.

"Off the record?"

You couldn't help it as you smiled. "Sure."

"If I plan on having you around here as often as I'd like, you were bound to find out eventually and I... I didn't want to keep hiding this from you. I wanted it to be on my own terms."

"So post-sex was your choice?" You were only teasing but you liked making his face turn a little red.

"Admittedly this was sooner than intended, I was hoping I'd wake up before you and have a speech ready. I was also hoping to wash the suit first."

You lifted up on your elbows and kissed him, sliding the glasses off his head and holding them in your hands. Now knowing he didn’t even need them.

"Off schedule as always, Michael."

"We're both going to be late today, I think." He said as he kissed you again, taking the glasses from your hands and tossing them carelessly somewhere in the room as he leaned you back into the sheets.

"Wait," you said against his mouth, brows furrowed as you looked at him once he leaned back. "You've been interviewing yourself?"

He rolled his eyes, continuing to kiss you. “I don’t want a lecture on the ethics of it.”

“I’m just saying, it’s—“

“Shut up,” he said through a laugh. Silencing you effectively as his tongue slid against yours and his hips settled between your thighs.

— 🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️ —

michael jackson masterlist

the friendship of you and geneveive has been going strong since you were teenagers, living in LA and being reckless. she was always quick to involve you into the activities the jacksons would cook up so when she called three weeks ago, screaming into the phone about inviting you to another family vacation, you were not surprised.

you remember, sitting on your bed with your bonnet on and listening to some music, painting your toe nails messily when she called and said: “girl, the whole crew is going! we rented this private villa in the bahamas, white sand, infinity pool, ocean views for days. jaafar, jermajesty, even marlon jr is coming. and you know they said you’re family. pack your shit, it’ll be like old times!”

your heart swelled at the mention of old times and your mind drifted to the thoughts of the days you tagged along with the jackson on their unique trips. most importantly your mind drifted to the thought of jermajesty and how it’ll be the first time seeing him in a while, half of it is your fault other half is his for not reaching out but at the same time your could’ve called.

but it has been a while since you seen him and since you seen the family, actually. you were so embedded in you studies . the family missed you and most importantly jermajesty missed you, unbeknownst to you. the last memory of you spending time with the jacksons was the first big family barbecue when you were nineteen and he was twenty, tall and quiet with that nerdy build and the softest brown eyes. every family event since holidays, premieres, random sunday dinners, you’d catch yourself staring at him.

but only god knew his gaze would always find you in a crowd or even in a room where it’s just him and his siblings, if you were there, you’d be the first thing he sees. you had a crush on jermajesty so deep it felt like dna. and you were almost positive he didn’t feel the same way but it was just a stupid little crush, nothing too serious.

within those three weeks of getting ready for the trip, you were able to book a hair appointment and nail appointment which was a first, considering how booked you thought everyone would be due to it being summer. you didn’t know why you felt the need to buy new bikinis even though you had tons from the previous trips but you felt like you needed something new or maybe it was to impress jermajesty, or even get him to bat a eye. you double checked your luggage tons of times, making sure you wouldn’t leave anything important even though you were used to stealing using genevieve’s stuff in case you forgot something but reassurance wasn’t the reason you felt the need to check your bag , it was nerves. you were nervous to see jermajesty after all this time, then you began to wonder-you wondered if he grew into his looks and how he looks as a man and not the boy that would chase you down with worms in his hand that he had found when playing in dirt, even though you’re pretty confident he would do that now. you also wondered if he remembered you, remembers your looks or the way your laughs sounds like.

you didn’t know why you and jermajesty never happened. it was either nerves or just the simple fact that neither of you could come forward and say the words that were bottled up for so long or maybe it was when you found out he had gotten into a relationship. the jackson family literally voted you and jermajesty most likely to get into a relationship, you could recall mama katherine giving you two know looks your whole life. you start to think that it was the sole reason you kept your distance for a while, yes you had exams but you still could’ve reached out to say hello or ask how everything is going but instead you locked in all semester, locking yourself away in the process.

now its summer and the semester has ended, so you couldn’t lock yourself away anymore according to geneiveve.

on the plane, it was buzzing with familiarity. jaafar sat next to his mom, like the mama’s boy he is. jermaine and randy jr sat next to each other and then jermajesty sat alone, headphones on. geneveive had saved you seat next to hers, near the front and her seat next to the window of course, she always managed to get the window seat before you. you sank into the soft leather with a relieved sigh, your curls bouncing as you got comfortable. you outfit screamed, comfy, oversized grey hoodie from aritzia engulfing you and your grey sweats to match. you applied light makeup, gloss and mascara. you didn’t know who you were trying to look good for, knowing all the other times you tagged along with the family you didn’t care what you looked like but this time it was different, very different.

genevieve was already chattering about villa plans and how excited she was to have you back with the family, you would laugh and lean into the conversation about bikinis and hairstyles, glad for the easy familiarity with everything.

down from the aisle across from you, you caught a glimpse of jermajesty . he really had grown up to be a young man, young handsome man. those chubby cheeks he once had formed into a defined jaw line and adam’s apple. his lips looked full and soft with a hint of his goatee covering his upper lip and some on his chin which made him look sexy.

your phone buzzed after take off, casually you lifted you phone making the screen light up to show you have gotten a text from jermajesty.

big head🥸: hey, i’m glad you came. i missed you.

i missed you.

not a we missed you, a i missed you. the text contained vulnerability and sincerity which surprised you a little bit. yes, jermajesty had always been chalant when it came to feelings and relationships especially friendships so you don’t know why you felt surprised, i guess it was just the simple fact he could text you so easily after all this time but you could barely bring yourself to pick up the phone and call.

you phone buzzed again, which was quick.

big head 🥸: why did you never reach out, jellybean?

your stomach did a little flip. jellybean. your heart squeezed at the thought of the nickname . he’d always teased you growing up whether it was playful jabs or comments at family events, one day when you five and jermajesty was six, he dared you to eat a whole container of jelly beans and bring you were never the one to back down from a dare you obliged which resulted to you getting terribly sick and vomiting all over you mother’s white fur coat which was laying on the couch next to both of you. that day jermajesty gave you name jelly bean behind fits of giggles and moans and groans coming from your lips. to your dismay, the nickname stuck and it became the main reason for your annoyance but this time you didn’t feel annoyed you felt something else and what ever it was it made your lips curl up.

you stared at the text longer than intended. what you wanted to say was ‘it’s my fault you forgot about me and got a girlfriend’ but that would’ve been weird so you came up with some bullshit.

sorry college had me locked away

the bubbles appeared in less than seconds.

big head🥸: bullshit.

you bit your lip to hide a smile and realized his intuition he had for you never faltered.

It’s not bullshit, maj. some of us doesn’t have the luxury of a famous last name.

once again, he started to text back fast.

big head🥸: still sounds like bullshit. you disappeared on us. on me. missed my jellybean

the tingle hit harder this time. you shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together under the blanket. who knew a harmless little nickname could have you in shambles.

dramatic much? I didn’t disappear, I just… got busy. family stuff gets complicated sometimes.

big head🥸: yeah not like that but it’s nice seeing u tho. you cleaned up nicely

you chuckled at his attempt to compliment you.

big head🥸: nah but in all seriousness, you’ve always been beautiful.

you didn’t know what to say next. you try to look for any playfulness or tease in his text but you couldn’t find any, it was genuine. you tried to play it cool.

yea well you cleaned up nice too :)

you looked at your text, hoping you didn’t come off as dismissive. after that jermajesty didn’t reply which made you feel like you had fucked up . you wished you had just told him how you felt or something equivalent to that but you had to be nonchalant and bottle up your feelings like all the time.

about halfway through the flight, when the plane lights dimmed and most people had dozed off, genevieve included, headphones on and blanket pulled up, your phone buzzed again.

big head🥸: come sit over here, bean.

you heart pounded. you stared at the text for a long moment, nerves fluttering in your chest. It’s just sitting. he’s probably bored. you took a slow breath, calmed yourself, and quietly slipped out of your seat. genevieve didn’t stir.

you moved down the aisle and slid into the empty seat beside him. he immediately shifted closer, his knee pressing against yours under the shared blanket the attendant had left. “what do you want, big head.”

now it was your turn to say nicknames, earning a laugh only you could hear. his eyes traced your face, your braids, the way your hoodie had ridden up a little. “nothin just missed you bean, thas'all .”

you laughed softly, trying to ignore the feeling of his leg brushing against yours. “i missed you too, jay jay.” you cooed.

he smiles. “been wanting to hear that pretty laugh for a while now.”

“ouu careful, what would maj’s girlfriend say?”

“maj’s girlfriend wouldn’t say anything cause’ maj doesn’t have one.”

questions instantly crowded your head.

when did this happen?

did he break up with her or did she break up with him?

“oh maj, m’sorry. that’s terrible m- what happened?” you acted like you cared even though should’ve but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel even the slightest bit of sympathy, that’s bad and you know it but you didn’t care.

he shrugged. “it was time, plus my mind was elsewhere.” you still had tons of questions but kept them to yourself. you shifted in your seat, letting yourself relax into the plush seat as jermajesty watched you with a certain look on his face.

“what about you, has anyone scooped you up yet?”

you grinned at the thought. “nope, never had any time to date.” time had nothing to do with it, i mean yeah there were plenty of guys that wanted to hook up within the dorms but you were saving yourself for someone that you trusted. of course you know what pleasure feels like, you had a fair share of vibrators and pathetically performed masterbations when you felt like you were going to cum but never actually cum (sounds excruciating).

your answer led to another question. “has anyone.. y’know” you were taken aback by the vulgarity. you never heard him talk like that but it kind of made a buzz spark in your stomach, the conversation was no longer innocent. unconsciously, your thighs clenched together as you felt the weight of this conversation on you.

“no uhm, im a virgin.”

you suddenly think of a memory about you and geneveive when you two were teenagers, talking in her bedroom drinking soda and painting each other’s nails.

“i’ll probably lose my virginity in high school, what about you bean?”

“uhmm probably high school too.”

looking back, you didn’t know why you were so confident because the plan obviously didn’t go as planned but genevieve had the luxury of a 6 foot tall boyfriend in high school who she dumped once she got tired of him.

your answer led to jermajesty raising a brow.

you immediately wanted to hand the microphone back to jermajesty. “you?”

“yes.” he blinked. “but if I could take it back and do it was someone I actually loved, I would.”

silence fell over you two, letting the his words process in your head.

“well it was nice catching up.” you say, abruptly. jermajesty watched you stand up and start to head back to your seat but stopped you.

“so that’s it?” he chuckled, brows furrowed at the sudden change in your demeanor.

“i have to go sit with gen.”

“bullshit.”

“boy, i’m getting enough of you saying everything i say is bullshit.”

jermajesty just grins, a glazed expression of tease on his face. you narrowed your eyes, letting out a grumble as you walked off and plopped down in your original seat.

you didn’t want to meet his eyes but you knew jermajesty was looking at you, laughing. this reminded you that even though he grew up he still was every bit of the little boy he was but the ache between your legs reminded you every bit of the man he became.

the rest of the ride was infused with melatonin for you. every time you got up to stretch or use the bathroom, you felt the weight of slumber come over you along with the weight of jermajesty gaze, tracing your hips and the curve of your ass in those leggings. he kept texting and you kept ignoring, wanting the rest of the ride to be peaceful.

by the time the plane started its descent into the bahamas, you deep slumber. you didn’t know how you fell asleep to easily, especially with the thought of jermajesty on your mind, you thought it was going to be impossible to sleep but a couple of humorous conversations with geneveive paired with the rain forest sleep music spewing from your airpods did the trick.

some moments later, you felt two taps on your shoulder. “wake up, sleepy head.” you grunted as you felt yourself slipping away from your sleep, eyes opening ever so slightly to see a familiar silhouette.

“we’re here,” genevieve murmured close to your ear, voice low and warm. “almost time to land. you slept the whole way.”

you blinked awake, disoriented and still carrying that low tingle from his texts. He was leaning over the aisle divider, eyes soft but intense as they traced your face, your messy braids, the way your hoodie had ridden up a little in your sleep.

the landing was smooth. customs was quick for the group. vans waited on the tarmac to take everyone to the villa. genevieve in the row ahead chatting with alejandra, leaving you and jermajesty in the back. his knee pressed against yours the whole winding drive along the coast. neither of you said much, but the silence felt heavy with everything unsaid.

the villa was stunning, sprawling white walls, private beach access, ocean views from every window, multiple wings for privacy. everyone claimed rooms quickly and crashed hard after the long travel day. you and genevieve took the beautiful corner suite with two king beds. she was asleep within minutes, not saying one word which made you wonder how she’s able to sleep so easily, in all your years of knowing her she never had a hard time slipping into bed and falling asleep. at that moment, you were jealous. you would’ve been in a deep sleep too if it wasn’t for a specific person, that person being a boy and that boy being jermajesty jackson .

you didn’t know if it was the smell of his sandalwood—aphrodisiac of a cologne that made your head spin or the warm brush of his knee against yours during the plane ride or the simple fact you had confessed to him that you were a virgin. what it was, it had you sitting criss cross on the bed with a pondering expression on your face.

suddenly a soft knock pulled you from your thoughts.

jermajesty stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light, holding a brand-new lego set—some big, spaceship or iconic building he’d grabbed from the gift shop near the airport. he looked a little shy in his gray sweatpants and simple tee, hair still messy from travel—goatee fuzz against his chin and upper lip.

“hey… couldn’t sleep,” he whispered, stepping inside quietly and closing the door behind him. “saw this and thought maybe you’d wanna build it with me? like old times.”

you smiled despite the late hour, sitting up in your thin, brandy melville tank top and shorts, braids loose and a little wild from sleep. “you’re still such a lego nerd, huh?”

“always.” he grinned softly. “come on, jellybean. let’s go to the living room. we can keep it quiet.”

you said yes without hesitation. the two of you moved to the floor of the living room, spreading the pieces out between you. “how long do you think it’s gonna take for us to finish this one?”

jermajesty grins at the thought, “I don’t know, maybe a couple of months.” he shrugs whilst fiddling with one of the lego pieces—beginning to build the pieces on top of each other. the lego bricks clicked softly as you built, knees occasionally brushing his, the kind of comfortable closeness you’d missed so much.

it seemed the more you sat there the more nervous you got—hoping the nervousness was only on the inside and not noticeable on the outside. after a comfortable lull, he spoke:

“so… why don’t you have a boyfriend ?”

you blinked. “um i’ve just been focusing on myself lately.” you shook your head, continuing to snap legos together—not bothering to lift your head and look at him. “why?”

once again the room is filled with silence. concerned, you finally cock your head at him. the air thickened between you. then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was soft at first—hesitant, sweet, like he’d been holding onto this moment for years. his hand gently cupped the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. for a heartbeat you froze, surprised, the remaining spark you felt on the plane came back to play, instead this time you felt it even harder.

he pulled back, slowly after a second, eyes searching yours, lip still lingering on yours. you didn’t know what to say. the words wouldn’t come. your heart was racing, lips still tingling, that ache from the plane suddenly burning hotter between your thighs.

jermajesty’s face fell. “shit… i’m sorry. that was stupid. i thought—” he stood up quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i should go. my room’s just down the hall. forget that happened. night.”

your eyes followed him as he slipped out before you could find your voice, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

you sat there on the floor surrounded by half-built lego, fingers touching your lips, body warm and confused and wanting. the kiss changed everything.

the ache only got worse.

before you knew it, it was the next morning—you barely slept after the kiss you jermajesty shared last night, you kept replaying the events in your brain—the soft flesh of his lips pressing against yours, the way his hand had gently cupped your neck, the nervous look in his eyes when he pulled back. you tossed and turned, all night which resulted in your bonnet slipping off in the middle of the night, braids messy against the pillow, body warm and aching between your thighs. by the time the sun rose you were still thinking about it, heart fluttering, a low persistent throb reminding you how badly you wanted more.

not even the slightest press of your thighs could conceal the ache.

frustrated, you eventually got up freshened up quickly, and went downstairs for breakfast with the family. the villa’s open kitchen and dining area overlooked the ocean. genevieve was already there, waving you over to the seat next to her. jermajesty sat directly across from her—which meant directly across from you.

you slid into the chair beside your best friend, trying to act normal and nonchalant. “morning, everyone.”

jermajesty’s eyes met yours the second you sat down. that same soft, intense look from last night. he gave you the tiniest smile, the kind only you would notice, the smile that hoped you forgot about something he knew you didn’t forget about

breakfast was full of family chatter —jermaine cracking jokes, alejandra making sure everyone ate, jaafar and marlon jr. talking about jet skis. but underneath it all, you and jermajesty kept stealing glances.

every time you looked up, his eyes were on you—tracing your face, your lips, the way your braids fell over your shoulder. you’d look away, cheeks warm, only to feel his gaze again a moment later. once, when you reached for the fruit bowl, your fingers brushed his as he passed it to you. the spark was instant. he held your eyes a second longer than necessary.

genevieve was right there chatting away, completely oblivious. “so, beach day today? m’ thinking we do some cute photos for insta first, then swim. you in?”

“yea, definitely,” you said, forcing a smile while jermajesty’s

you tried to focus on your plate, but the ache from last night was back—stronger now. every shared glance made your thighs press together under the table. he knew exactly what he was doing.

when breakfast ended and everyone started getting ready for the beach, the tension only built. you changed into that sage green string bikini, the one that looked sinful on your deep brown skin. the top barely contained your full breasts, one false move and your dark aerolas would slip out. the bottoms sat high on your hips and disappeared between your ass cheeks. you threw on a sheer white cover-up and headed down with the group.

you met up with genevieve in the main living area. she was in a cute yellow bikini with a matching cover-up, smiling brightly.

“ready, bestie?” she asked, linking her arm with yours.

“ready,” you replied, trying to sound casual even though your heart was racing.

the whole family walked down the private path to the beach together— jermaine and alejandra leading the way, chatting about the ocean views, jaafar and marlon jr. joking loudly behind them. you and genevieve walked side by side in the middle, but you could feel jermajesty’s eyes on you the entire time.

he walked just behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him. every now and then his hand would brush the small of your back “accidentally” as the path narrowed, sending little sparks up your spine. you kept glancing back, catching his gaze, and he’d give you that same soft, hungry look from breakfast.

the beach was perfect — white sand, turquoise water, and enough space that the family spread out naturally. genevieve wanted to take photos first, so she wandered a bit farther down with her camera. that was your moment.

You turned to Jermajesty, heart pounding, and grabbed his hand.

“come with me,” you whispered, pulling him away from the group toward a cluster of large rocks that gave just enough privacy.

“look, bean. m’so sorry about last n- mm!”

the second you were out of sight you pushed him against the warm stone and kissed him—hard.

he groaned into your mouth, hands immediately gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. the kiss was desperate, sweet and filthy at the same time. his tongue slid against yours, deep and hungry. one of his hands slid down to squeeze your ass, the other tangled in your ponytail, tugging just enough to tilt your head how he wanted.

“so y'not mad about last night?,” he panted against your lips between kisses.

you moaned softly, shaking your head—pressing your body tighter to his, feeling how hard he already was against your stomach. “you kissed me and just left… I couldn’t stop thinking about it-”

he cut you off with another deep kiss, walking you backward until your back hit the rock. his hand slipped between your bodies, fingers pushing the bikini bottoms aside and sliding through your soaked folds.

“shit, baby—you’re dripping,” he groaned, circling your clit with two fingers, pussy juices coating his goatee. “all this from when I kissed you?”

“mmmh—yes—touch me—” you whimpered, hips rolling against his hand. your braids brushed your shoulders as you tilted your head back. “don’t stop kissing me—”

he kissed you harder, fingers slipping into your tight, wet pussy while his thumb rubbed your clit. you were grinding on his hand, toes digging and curling in the warm sand whilst moaning into his mouth, the ocean waves covering most of the sound.

“fuck—your fingers feel so good—right there—ahh!” you gasped between kisses.

“my fingers feel so good?” he repeated, faintly against your cheek—lip between his teeth as he admired your expressions.

then—

“y/n? where you at?” genevieve’s voice called from closer than you expected.

you both froze. jermajesty’s fingers stilled inside you, but he didn’t pull them out. his forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged.

“fuck,” he whispered, stealing one last quick, filthy kiss. “later. i’m not done with you.”

he slipped his fingers out, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while looking you dead in the eyes. then he adjusted your bikini bottoms, gave your ass one last squeeze, and stepped back like nothing had happened.

you smoothed your cover-up, heart racing, pussy still throbbing, and stepped out from behind the rocks with a casual wave.

“right here! just taking some pictures with maj.”

genevieve huffed. “she’s my model, maj. go take pictures of jaafar.” she shooed jermajesty away before tugging you to the shore. you caught a glance of jermajesty walking towards the boys not failing to give you a wink while genevieve pestered you to pose for the camera.

from that moment forward you knew this trip was going to be like no other.

the rest of the beach day was pure torture.

you and jermajesty kept stealing glances, brushing hands “accidentally,” and finding little excuses to be close. every time genevieve turned her back he’d lean in and whisper something that was sweet but had lustful undertone like— “can’t stop thinking about you, bean” or “you look so good.”

by the time the sun went down and everyone headed out for drinks. you made some stupid excuse saying ‘my throat is a little sore n’ I don’t want to get you sick’ genevieve instantly understood, giving you the green light to stay at the villa alongside jermajesty who told a little white lie.

when everyone finally started heading to the bar, you and jermajesty went back to your suite.

you quickly escorted jermajesty inside, closing the door quietly behind him. he didn’t say a word. he crossed the room in two strides, pulled you up into his arms, and kissed you like he’d been starving for it all day.

you moaned into his mouth, hands fisting his shirt as he walked you backward to your bed. he laid you down gently but urgently, stripping your bikini and cover up off while kissing every inch of your deep brown skin—your neck, your nipples, your stomach, your thighs. he then stripped his shirt off as well—along with his swim trunks, cock flying feed and slapping his stomach.

“been thinking about this since breakfast,” he whispered against your skin. “since the plane. since that kiss last night. fuck, i need you”

he dropped to his knees between your legs, pushed your thighs wide, fingers coming up to spread your pussy lips before diving in. his tongue was filthy—long, slow licks through your soaked folds, sucking your clit hard while two thick fingers slipped deep inside you.

“ohhh fuck—yes!” you moaned, hand flying to his curls. “maj—please—your tongue feels so good—ahh!”

he groaned against you, fingers curling relentlessly while he sucked your clit, spit covering the achy bud—sounds of gush sloshing against your pussy from his mouth. you came hard within minutes, thighs shaking around his head—mouth hung open at the orgasm riding throughout your body.

right after that, he climbed up your body, cock thick and hard, and slid into your soaked entrance in one smooth thrust.

“fuuuuck—so tight and wet for me,” he groaned, starting a deep, steady rhythm. “this pussy feels even better than i imagined all these years.”

you wrapped your legs around him, nails digging into his back. “harder—please—maj!”

he fucked you deep and sweet at first, then harder, whispering filthy-sweet things in your ear the whole time—how pretty you looked taking him, how long he’d wanted this, how he was never letting you go again.

“oh my god! fuck! why are you fucking me like dis?” you cried, voice shaking as your body shook up and do with the thrusts of jermajesty’s hips.

“why am I fucking you like this?” he repeated your question, thrusts getting more harsh. “cause’ i love you. that’s why.”

his confession really fueled you and just like that you began to cum around him, moaning and whaling into the air. you were leaving a thick white ring around his cock, fingers digging in his biceps as your toes curls tightly—forming cramps in your muscles. your head thrashes to the side, letting jermajesty chase his high while you laid there. jermajesty came soon after you, pumping thick ropes of cum into you—hips stuttering and chants of your name pouring into your chest.

you held him as his thrusts faltered, letting his hips buck into you a couple more time before pulling out, making his hot load trickle from your your cunt to between your ass.

afterward he cleaned you up with a washcloth and helped slip your pajamas on. “I love you, big head.” you confessed.

You gave him a pretty smile through the mirror and turned around to walk to him, you fixed his hair before you rested your palms on his chest. “Go on.” you teased with a grin, the way he was looking at you sent your heart into overdrive. He sighed deeply, one hand reached out to hold your waist while the other reached to grab your hand and he pressed a sweet kiss to your palm. “You look absolutely stunning. Gimme a twirl, baby.” he crooned, as he raised the same hand over your head and you obeyed to spin in his hold. “Prettiest lady I ever did lay my eyes on.” he mused, he reached out to kiss you and you arched your neck back a little to avoid him, “Uh uh. Michael, I can’t mess up my makeup and we need to go.” you said in a half stern voice but he knew you didn’t really mean it. “Come on ma, just a small one? For the road?” he said, as he stared deeply into your eyes knowing you would give in before reaching to press butterfly kisses down the arch of your neck, deeply inhaling his favourite perfume on you, the one he gifted to you. “We have to go...” you whispered and your eyes rolled back, your voice didn’t even sound convincing to yourself as it trailed off while your neck fell back again and you gripped the lapels of his embellished white jacket. He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace before he reluctantly raised his face from your neck and gave you a gentle peck. “Do we really have to go? I just wanna stay home with you.” he said and gripped your waist tighter, almost sounding a little petulant. “Yes we do Michael, even Janet is going to be there. We need to support her.” you chastised. He hummed in half agreement before he let go to fix his gloves, and held out his hand for you “Showtime baby.” and you grabbed your clutch before you grabbed his hands, heels echoing through the house as you left. 

~~~

The limousine had finally reached the venue, there was so much chatter and chaos from the seemingly endless crowd outside, cameras flashing every millisecond, people holding signs, celebrities posing and waving as they walked down the red carpet. You rarely attended events like this because they usually lasted a long time and sometimes you would just feel drained from maintaining your appearance. This time you offered to attend with Michael to support him and to make a public appearance to shut down some not-so-nice rumours and outlandish speculations about your relationship. Your hands got a bit clammy in his hold, he gripped it a bit tighter before pressing a kiss to the top of your hand, “You ready, angel?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and took a look at his face to calm down your nerves, his eyes held no judgment and he sat in the car patiently. You gave him a firm nod with a smile, “Let’s do this.” he smiled back, “That’s my girl.” he put on his signature shades before he turned to Bill in the front and politely told him the two of you were ready to go. 

The camera flashes seemed to be as fast as the speed of light before the car door even opened up fully. The crowds and screams from the fans became louder, the photographers and paparazzi shouted out his name for him to slip for any juicy piece of information to twist to fit their narrative on the tabloids as soon as Michael stepped out. He paid them no heed, waving with one hand for a bit before he turned back to the car to hold your hand as you stepped out of the car then he simply moved your arm to rest in the crook of his elbow. Nothing could describe how insane the atmosphere became, everything seemed to magnify tenfold as soon as they all saw you stepping out of the limo. You showed off a confident smile on your painted lips with him, avoided the camera flashes burning your eyes and the barrage of intruding questions to the best of your ability as you both walked across the Grammy’s red carpet to the small stage for the pictures. The two of you posed, confident in the knowledge that you were one of the most dazzling couples of the year, your man was incredibly proud of how you were handling everything and taking the atmosphere in stride. “You’re doing great, baby.” he said in your ear which made you smile wider and lean your body a bit closer to him as he pressed a kiss to your temple and held your waist with one arm, and the cameras were even more blinding and the cheers were deafening. Everything felt like a blur, time seemed to slow and speed up at the same time. A few minutes later, with your ears ringing and what felt like a hundred camera flashes per second, Michael led you inside the venue. 

~~~

“Michael! [reader]!” you both turned towards the sound of a familiar voice calling out your name as you both were standing a bit idly after entering the venue. “Janet!” you squealed as both of you quickly walked to hug one another tightly. “It’s so good to see you.” she exclaimed while still hugging you and you parroted the same sentiment. “You look stunning. The suit looks so chic! And your braids!” you complimented after letting go of the hug but still holding onto her arms. “Says you! You look beautiful, like a swan.” she bounces back. Michael, on the other hand, was standing still with his hands behind his back, “Ladies, I’m right here, y’know.” You giggled and Janet playfully rolled her eyes, “Hello to you too, I guess.” before she reached out to hug her dear big brother and he also laughed. “I’m excited to watch you present on stage, and I’m so proud of you Janet.” you said in admiration and she thanked you sincerely. Michael excused himself to go speak to Quincy and Teddy in the distance while you animatedly chatted with Janet.

He finally came back to you, and he led you towards the front row reserved seats. After being seated, you made sure you looked presentable with the slit on your dress and Janet still hung around a bit. Michael sat next to you holding your intertwined hands on your thigh and he rubbed his thumb over the top. “You two are so sweet together, it’s almost sickening.” Janet commented with mock disgust and you felt your cheeks warm up under your makeup while Michael laughed jovially while he lifted your hand to place another kiss, “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Janet playfully rolled her eyes again, “Honestly, I’m going to get diabetes.” After some more talking, and watching a few of the awards being given out, Janet finally had to make her way backstage to begin her presentation. “Alright, you lovebirds have fun.” she said, you exclaimed, “Good luck Janet!” and Michael waved her off. 

A while later, Janet finally walked across the stage to make her way to the center of the stage and you cheered and clapped louder than anyone. She subtly adjusted her in-ear microphone and she stood holding a trophy, looking very proud and like the epitome of class. Janet’s voice rang out clear and confident; not once did she stutter as she delivered her speech on how much she cared deeply about and loved him in front of the hundreds of people watching in the venue and potentially thousands watching the broadcast on their televisions. The camera panned to his face and he smiled shyly before it grew and he blew a kiss, Janet looked incredibly giddy knowing everyone was cheering for him. She explained how Grammy awards are given out to legends and used Michael as an example then allowed a video to play- the video showcased his achievements, bits of his music videos, the people he was involved with and clips from his tours. “Now I am very happy to present the Grammy Legend Award for 1993 to my big brother, Michael Jackson” Janet said with a 1000 watt smile. The camera panned back to him wearing another shy smile, you clapped loud next to him and smiled, trying not to draw too much attention given it was his moment but your intentions were flung out the window as he reached over to give you a peck and a tight hug which you reciprocated with no hesitation. 

He stood up, looking every bit graceful and masculine in his regal attire as he walked up to the stage to receive the trophy and blew a kiss to the crowd (actually you) before hugging Janet. Michael stood behind the microphone stand and smiled, “I love you too.” and there were a bunch of women screaming from the crowd. “I hope this puts to rest another rumour that has existed for too many years.” he said and reached out to give Janet a side hug as they smiled wide at the camera. To you, they looked 20 years younger at that moment like two siblings just happy to participate on picture day. Michael delivered a heartfelt speech about rumours surrounding him, his strict upbringing and lack of a childhood transitioning into his career, what he hoped to deliver with how he creates his music, his self-expression, he talked about how he admired children and how they’re able to remain playful and innocent about life. For a beat he was quiet, you could see a pang of sadness flash over his face as he collected his thoughts before continuing his speech. He ended his speech and thanked God, children including sick and deprived babies, his parents, his siblings especially Janet and he expressed how proud he was of Janet too, everyone who has contributed to his career including Motown, Quincy Jones, Teddy Riley, his godson, Sony, “And finally, the beautiful woman I love the most and am proud to call my wife, [reader]”. The camera panned to you but you paid it no mind as you stared at him smiling wide with teary eyes, you blew him a kiss on the stage which he noticed and gave you a smile. You quickly grabbed a tissue from your clutch to dab at your eyes gently. He finally got off stage and made his way back to his seat, back to you so you hugged him and kissed his cheek, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you.” and he replied with the same. “I’m so ready to leave.” Michael groaned and you shared the sentiment, you were getting tired but there was still the rest of the event to sit through. 

After the awards were distributed, Michael and you quickly went to the conference area for more photos with his new shiny trophy, you opted to stay out of them this time. The interviewers and paparazzi were all vying for his attention for juicy gossip. 

“Michael, how would you describe your relationship with [reader]?” a female interviewer asked. Michael answered with a smile, “We’re deeply devoted to each other and our relationship is unshakeable.” He then answered some questions about your and his styling process and credits for the night. 

“Michael, being the King of Pop, how does [reader] deal with the consequences of your fame?” another piped up almost immediately. Michael answered, a bit sensitive to how blunt the question was but took it in stride, “I don’t like calling myself famous. I believe I was born to create music and heal the world through my craft. I know I have a lot of eyes watching me and people looking up to me. I would never put my wife in harm’s way, and I would do absolutely anything to keep her safe. Even still, [reader] is extremely strong-willed and brilliant, and she has adapted to my circumstances and my chaotic life, and she has stood by me through thick and thin throughout our relationship. I am forever grateful to her.” 

“Michael you’ve been married for almost a year now but you still have the rest of the Dangerous tour left to go, have you considered starting a family?” This made Michael smile shyly, “My fans are also important to me so I am taking preparations for the tour while also spending time with [reader] because we decided to enjoy more time together, but I would like to have children someday, God willing.” 

“How many kids do you want?” soon after another interviewer asked. Michael laughed a little before waving his hand in a ‘no’ gesture, “As many as my lovely wife is willing to give me.” after which his eyes drifted to the side where you were standing off the stage and smiled mischievously and you playfully rolled your eyes with an exasperated smile. 

“I will not be taking any more questions, thank you and have a good night.” he bid farewell then he made his way off the stage and to you. “Let’s get outta here mama.” His voice seemed tired and impatient, as he, once again, allowed you to hook your hand through his folded elbow before leading you to the car. 

~~~

As soon as you both got in the car, the partition went up thanks to Bill, Michael took off his gloves, you kicked off your heels and began taking off your own jewellery and gently packed them in some leftover tissue before placing them in your clutch- those earrings were making your ears sore and you were feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I never get used to these events.” you groaned as you slumped in your seat, Michael felt sympathetic so he bent down down to grab your calves, the sound of your dress swishing filled the air as he pulled them over his lap, he began to gently massage your feet. You let out a mewl, “Oh my god, that feels so good.” After a few minutes of silence, the calm settled a bit over the car as you simply enjoyed the ride a little bit, he continued to massage the arches of your feet as you basically melted into the leather. You pulled your feet off his lap and he looked at you confusedly and you smacked your thighs, “Come. Lay your head down, baby.” and he wordlessly shifted in his seat, albeit a bit awkwardly with one of his legs folded on the seat and the other on the floor before he laid across the seat so his head rested on your lap. You began to drift your fingertips through his scalp with gentle motions, careful not to press too hard and he groaned deeply while looking up at you like you hung the moon for him, “Thank you, baby.” You simply booped his nose in response to which he giggled. You continued to rub at his scalp, close to his eyebrows a bit and his temples to alleviate the tension. The rest of the ride descended into a tender silence as the car gently rocked on the way home, he dozed off on your lap and you continued massaging him as you watched the various colours whirring past your window, not having the mind to wake him as he looked too peaceful and too adorable especially considering his trouble with sleep anyway.

The car finally stopped outside the mansion, you gently stroked his cheek and shook his shoulder a bit, “Baby? Wake up, we’re home.” his pretty eyes slowly opened as he hummed before he sat upright, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You rolled your eyes, “Michael Joseph Jackson you did not just apologise for dozing off on your WIFE’s lap.” He laughed and muttered a quick “wait” before he got out of the car and ran around to open your side of the door. You were about to get out before he stopped you, he grabbed your heels with a finger hook, then quickly reached down to grasp your legs and placed an arm behind your body and before you know it you were getting carried bridal style, mindful of the slit in your dress. “Michael! I can walk! They’re all staring!” you exclaimed but you gripped him by the shoulders tightly, referring to Bill and the security personnel. “Let them.” was his simple response. Michael turned to them, still holding you in his arms and your face was basically steaming and you also said thank you before quickly moving your head down in embarrassment, he said, “Thanks Bill, thanks guys. Have a good rest of your night.” They were all grinning, enamoured with you two and happy to see their boss happy, “Thank you and good night to you too Mr and Mrs Jackson.” one of them responded. “Try sticking to just sleeping tonight, lovebirds.” Bill called out, suddenly and you heard someone cough, presumably to hide a laugh. Michael only giggled and you gasped in half outrage and half embarrassment, “Bill!!!” to which he responded with a bark of laughter, “Just kidding kid!” 

He began walking across to the front door slowly, his grip on you was secure, “Alright, you can put me down now.” you said and he just tutted you before he continued to walk, “Just let me love you, woman.” You said nothing in retaliation, content in his arms. The moon was shining brightly, the manicured gardens were beautiful and the outdoor lighting lit up the path. It felt like you were in a fairytale with your prince. “Reminds me of our wedding day.” he reminisced happily. You only buried your face in his neck, feeling shy, “It was a beautiful day.” Michael nodded, “You made it beautiful.” and you responded with a kiss to his cheek. After a few beats of silence and walking, he had the sweet idea to spin around while holding you, your dress swaying out, you squealed, your giggles rang out into the breezy air and held onto him tighter. 

Finally, he reached the door without any more incidents and put you down gently on the welcome mat before he opened the door, you stepped in first and Michael followed, he placed your shoes down and took off his own. Both of you were utterly exhausted and happy to be home after such a chaotic event. Events like this didn’t just mean attending, getting ready, preparations, organising security, interviews, photographs, networking, sitting through the event, going through different procedures- it was all draining. You both walked to your shared room together while stretching some sore muscles, Michael had already shrugged off his jacket and unbuckled his belt on the way while you began slowly emptying out your clutch. You two began methodically placing your belongings where they belonged in the room. You tried to reach for the zipper on the back, it was stuck. “Baby, can you please unzip me?” you motioned to your back as you turned around and he wordlessly obliged, gently unzipping you as his fingers grazed your bare skin sending goosebumps across. The effect his touch had on you would never disappear, your body was attuned to his. You muttered a quiet thank you before you let the dress fall and stepped out of it now clad in your underwear. “You go shower first ma, I’ll wait.” he said and you frowned, “Don’t be silly, join me.” You waved him over as you walked to the bathroom. He wordlessly obeyed as he began undressing himself and left his clothes in the laundry basket. You turned on the shower to warm up the water then used the toilet to do your business. You had dated and now you were married, both of you had seen the good, bad and the ugly so nothing affected either of you. Michael followed soon after and began washing his face to remove his makeup. After he finished, you also did the same. 

The two of you took off your undergarments before stepping under the warm shower stream. Together, you both stood under the steady stream of warm water, both of you releasing deep sighs as your chests rose then fell in sync, simply letting the water run over your heads to rinse off the day as you just stood in silence for a few minutes. He reached for your shampoo bottle to squeeze some onto his palm then rubbed the liquid across both his hands, “Let me, baby.” You smiled at him gratefully before turning your back to him and slightly laid your head back to which he began to press his fingers and palm through your scalp, evenly distributing the shampoo to lather and he massaged your scalp deeply. Your eyes closed at the feeling and you could feel the headache slowly dissipating. He then moved you gently so your head fell more central to the shower stream and began washing away the shampoo foam with his fingers. You finally turned around to face him and reached up to press a soft kiss to his lips, you hummed in pure bliss, “Your hands are magical.” He grinned deviously, you couldn’t see him but his motions paused, “Oh… I’m sure they are.” he said and then promptly smacked your ass. “Michael Joseph Jackson, you will behave.” you turned your face halfway to look at him with one stern eye. He giggled a bit before he stifled them and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” but his eyes still held mirth. You then also reached out to grab his shampoo to squirt some of it onto your palm and motioned for him to turn around. He ended up sitting down on the shower floor so you would have an easier time, “Maybe we renovate the bathroom so there’s a bench here or something.” and you hummed in response, a bit mindlessly before you began to demonstrate the same care and massaged the shampoo gently into his scalp, taking care not to rub too hard at the top of his head, you cleaned around his ears and behind his neck. You tapped his shoulder for him to stand up and he began to wash off the suds off his scalp. He leaned to give you a small peck before muttering a quick thank you.

You both grabbed washcloths each and began scrubbing your bodies with soap simultaneously, “Can you do my back, please?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, he simply turned around after handing you his soapy washcloth, you grabbed it and scrubbed a bit aggressively, making sure to get the sides and the tops of his shoulders, cheekily moving down to scrub his cute booty with a grin. “Naughty you.” he teased in a sing-song voice but didn’t complain. He rinsed off quickly under the shower then motioned for you to turn around after taking your washcloth from you and putting more soap on it, “Your turn, baby.” You turned your back to him and he began to scrub gently, it barely felt like he was scrubbing. “Go harder.” you demanded and he giggled, “Definitely heard those words before but in different circumstances.” You gasped and your hand automatically reached behind you to smack his abdomen, “You’re so shameless.” but your voice held no anger. “Only for you, ma.” he responded lovingly, before obliging and scrubbed harder. Both of you had finished the rest of your shower routine together, and again stood under the stream for a beat, the warm water was comforting as it soothed your aches and pains. You reached out to him first as you wrapped your arms around his waist and he also reached out to hug your shoulders, you rested your head on his torso as he rested his head on top of yours under the pelting water. 

After a few more minutes of just embracing each other and enjoying the intimacy, he turned off the shower and reached out of the shower door to grab your towels, he handed yours and you both dried off subtly before stepping out to dry off completely. “Here let me.” you grabbed his towel from his hands and motioned to his head, he walked out to the bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed and you began carefully drying off his hair with the towel. You then pulled out matching comfortable silk pajamas for the two of you and you got dressed together. Both of you roamed around the room and bathroom doing your nighttime routine. You walked to your vanity and grabbed the hairdryer, plugged it in and sat at the little chair and turned it on. You saw Michael moving to you in the reflection which made you pause and wordlessly hand him the handheld device and he smiled before grabbing it from your hold. He stood behind you and patiently made sure your strands/braids were dried and not damp, careful to not go too close to your scalp. The heat and his fingers in combination felt so good on your scalp, you felt drowsy and you released a small yawn, unable to hold it. “All done.” he said with quiet pride as he turned the hairdryer off, and you got up to grab the hairdryer from him, “Sit.” He hesitated this time, “It’s okay baby, you go to bed I can do it myself.” You gave him a deadpan look, “I wasn’t asking.” He held his hands up in mock surrender with wide eyes and he teased, “Someone’s bossy.” You huffed, “Well don’t test me and I won’t be.” Michael bit his bottom lip a bit before grinning like the cat that got the cream, “Nah I’ll keep doing it, you’re sexy when you boss me around like that.” and that shut you up but you still gently smacked his shoulder in retaliation. You turned the hairdryer on, since his hair was only shoulder length, his hair was quick to dry and it only took a few minutes. His hair looked like a lion’s mane, fluffy and adorable so you combed it down to tame it. You then put on your bonnet as the final step. 

“Alright, finally time for bed.” he said as he got up. Clearly he still had a lot of energy because the next thing you know your world turned upside down as he bent down to haul you over his shoulder, blood rushed to your head a bit which made you shout, “MICHAEL JOSEPH JACKSON! PUT ME DOWN!” and he said a quick “Ok” before he plopped you down on the plush bed. You quickly scrambled up to grab his pillow and threw it at his face which he half blocked with an arm but he still went “Oof”. “That’s what you get.” you huffed before crawling under the duvet, he was giggling but followed soon after, the two of you instantly gravitated to each other as Michael slid an arm under your neck to wrap around your shoulders, you rested your head on his chest and tangled your legs with his. He rubbed his thumb in circular motions over your shoulders, while you traced random shapes on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Michael’s music was dear to you, especially the ones written about you but his heartbeat was also one of your favourite songs. It didn’t take long for sleep to call your name, you felt as though you were slipping into dreamland so you reached down to press a kiss where his heart vaguely was, “G’night, love you.” to which a sleepy Michael kissed the top of your head and responded, “Love you too, baby.”

The next morning, the tabloids greeted you and the two of you made front page headlines with a prize-winning photograph titled, “KING OF POP AND HIS QUEEN GRACE THE 35TH GRAMMY’S RED CARPET IN MATCHING LUXURY!” You read the title and your eyes lingered on the photo on the front with a smug smile. Maybe your life was a fairytale after all.

masterlist

jaafar

“baby, you almost ready?” you hear jaafar call for you from downstairs. you were putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup because jaafar was taking you out to dinner to celebrate your two year anniversary as a married couple. before the two of you left, though, you had one more thing you wanted to do first.

you had been seeing the prank go around on tik tok where girls introduced their partners as their "current boyfriend," and every reaction had been funnier than the last. you especially couldn't wait to try it on jaafar because he wasn't your boyfriend anymore in any sense of the word. he'd been your husband for two years. if anyone was going to have the most confused reaction imaginable, it was going to be him.

you had a pretty nice following on tik tok, not full blown influencer big, but enough that you liked making videos just because they were fun. it had never become your career, and it never needed to. when jaafar proposed, he'd made it clear that if you wanted to work, he would support you completely, but if you ever decided you didn't want to, that was just as okay because he was more than capable of providing for the two of you. it had never been about control with him. it had always been about making sure you knew every choice was yours.

“yeah, baby, i’m coming,” you call back.

after one last swipe of lipstick, you set the tube down and made your way downstairs. the soft click of your heels against the floor was all the warning jaafar needed before he was already crossing the room toward you.

his eyes slowly wandered over you, taking in every detail of your dress until he bit down on his lip, completely captivated. “you look amazing,” he says.

you can't help smiling as you look him over too. dressed in a button up shirt and nice pants, he looked just as handsome as he always did, somehow managing to leave you speechless even after all these years together.

“thank you, baby. you look very delicious,” you say with a wink. his smile immediately spreads across his face, and he ducks his head as a familiar blush creeps into his cheeks beneath your praise. “can we take a quick video before we leave? do we have time? because we look too good not to capture,” you say.

jaafar lets out a quiet laugh before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, settling comfortably against you as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“of course we can,” he says. you smile, lifting your phone that was already open to tik tok, and finally press record.

“hi guys… as you can see, i’m here with my current boyfriend,” you start.

jaafar’s expression changes immediately. you watch it happen in the corner of your screen as his easy smile disappears, replaced by a look of complete and utter confusion.

“and we’re about to go out to dinner to celebrate our two year anniversary!” you continue with the same bright smile, but beside you, jaafar has already lifted his chin from your shoulder. instead of looking at the camera, he's looking directly at you, his brows drawn together as he tries to process what you just said.

“baby?” he says, confusion laced in his tone.

“hmm?” you ask as you look at him.

“what was that you called me?” he asks.

“my current boyfriend?” you ask. he nods without taking his eyes off you. “yeah, i was just telling my followers that we’re going out to dinner for our anniversary,” you say.

it takes every ounce of self control you have to keep a straight face. your lips threaten to twitch with every passing second because jaafar keeps cycling through a different expression of confusion, his eyes narrowing, then widening, then narrowing again as he silently tries to understand why his wife of two years had suddenly introduced him as her boyfriend... and why, somehow, the word "current" made it sound even more suspicious.

“i’m your husband,” he says.

you nod without missing a beat. “yeah…”

you answer as though that should settle the matter entirely, but it only leaves jaafar looking even more bewildered. he searches your face for some clue that you're joking, some tiny crack in your composure.

“am i being demoted?” jaafar asks. the question catches you completely off guard, and despite how hard you've been trying to hold it together, a laugh slips past your lips.

“no, of course not… what do you mean?” you ask.

“well current boyfriend sounds like i’m not your husband and that you might have another boyfriend on the way,” he says. your heart almost melts right there.

the sincerity in his confusion only makes it harder to keep the prank going because he's trying so earnestly to make sense of something that, in his mind, simply doesn't add up.

“well no, you’re my current boyfriend,” you say.

“i’m your husband of two years… i haven’t been your boyfriend in nearly 4 years, because i spent a year as your fiance,” he says.

another smile tugs at your lips. he's unintentionally laying out the entire relationship timeline like he's presenting evidence in court, hoping that if he explains it logically enough, you'll realize where you've misspoken.

“okay, baby, can i just finish making my video about where we’re going?” you ask.

“yeah, i want to finish the video, but why are you saying i’m your current—” he cuts himself off. his eyes flick down to your phone, lingering there for just a second before realization begins to settle across his face. the confusion slowly dissolves, replaced by a look that makes your stomach tighten because you know exactly what's coming.

he looks back at you. “are you pranking me right now?” he asks.

every bit of laughter you've been fighting spills out at once, leaving you doubled over as the sound echoes through the room. the effort of keeping a straight face disappears completely, and tears begin gathering in your eyes from laughing so hard.

jaafar just shakes his head with an amused smile before taking your phone from your hands. he turns it back toward himself and looks straight into the camera.

“just to let it be known, i am her one and only husband, and that’s never changing,” jaafar says. he ends the recording before handing your phone back to you.

your smile softens as you rise onto your toes to kiss him. the second your lips meet, one of his hands settles more securely around your waist, drawing you closer until there's barely any space left between you.

“i love you, silly girl,” jaafar says as he shakes his head. your grin only grows wider.

“i love you, more… current boyfriend,” you tease. jaafar drops his head with another laugh, already knowing you were going to get one last jab in.

“girl, get your ass in the car,” he says.

your giggles follow the two of you all the way out of the house, lingering between teasing smiles, stolen glances, and the easy kind of happiness that made even a simple drive to your anniversary dinner feel like something worth remembering.

jermajesty:

unfortunately, jermajesty didn’t know that he was about to become the latest victim of one of your tik tok pranks. you had been watching video after video of the "current boyfriend" trend, and every single reaction had you laughing harder than the last. almost immediately, you knew jermajesty had to be next.

when you head downstairs into the living room of your shared apartment, you find jermajesty exactly where you expected him to be, stretched out on the couch with a controller in his hands, completely invested in whatever game he was playing.

phone still in your hand, you walk over without saying a word and he doesn't have to look away from the screen to know you're there.

without pausing his game, jermajesty immediately lifts his arms, silently inviting you into the familiar spot between his legs. you settle comfortably against his chest, and as soon as you're situated, his arms naturally fall back around your waist, holding you there like it's the only place you're meant to be.

you open tik tok, smiling to yourself when you feel him press an absentminded kiss against your temple before returning his attention to the game.

“you gonna make a new video, mama?” he asks when he catches a glimpse of your phone screen and notices the app already open.

“yeah, i was gonna do a storytime about how my homegirl almost got in that fight the last time we went out,” you say. his laugh rumbles through his chest, and you feel every bit of it where you're leaning against him.

“yeah, they’re gonna love that one,” he says. your smile grows a little more mischievous knowing he can't see it, and you finally hit record.

“hey guys… i promised you a storytime, but there was someone who didn’t want to be left out,” you say. you hear jermajesty laugh again, so you tilt the camera up just enough to bring more of his face into frame. “so, as i sit there snuggled up to my current boyfriend while he plays video games, let me tell y’all what happened last week,” you say.

the words barely finish leaving your mouth before the clicking of his controller stops and his game is instantly paused.

you don't even have to turn around to know he's staring at you because you can already see his expression in your phone screen. his brows knit together, his mouth parts slightly, and every trace of focus he'd had on the game disappears as his brain completely abandons the mission in favor of figuring out what on earth you just said.

“hold on… what the hell did you just call me?” he asks. there isn't a hint of irritation in his voice. if anything, he sounds genuinely blindsided, like he's convinced he must have misheard you.

“my current boyfriend?” you say as you tilt your head back to look at him. the look on his face nearly breaks your composure. he's studying you so seriously, searching for some explanation that makes more sense than the words he just heard.

“what does current mean? you got another man lined up after me or something?” he asks. you shake your head innocently.

“no, i was just saying, i was going to tell my current boyfriend, you, and my followers the story,” you say.

jermajesty shakes his head, trying not to laugh even as his confusion continues winning the battle. “we’ve been together for five years,” he says.

you nod. “i know,” you say.

“so why you saying i’m your current boyfriend like you’re gonna replace me?” he asks. you shake your head again.

“no, you’re not being replaced, you’re my current boyfriend,” you say.

his eyebrows pull together even more as he looks at you, then at your phone, then back at you again. you can practically see the gears turning as he tries to connect the dots, and the second his eyes land on the screen one more time, realization begins creeping across his face.

“baby, are you fucking with me right now? stop saying i’m your current boyfriend,” he says. the second those words leave his mouth, your self control completely disappears.

laughter spills out of you before you can stop it, your shoulders shaking as you lean back against him. hearing you laugh is all jermajesty needs to confirm his suspicion because he starts laughing too, tightening his arms around your waist until you're practically trapped against his chest.

still chuckling, he reaches forward and looks straight into your phone's camera. “for the record, i’m her only boyfriend and i will be her husband,” he says before he ends the recording.

your laughter fades almost instantly, instead, warmth rushes into your cheeks as you turn to look at him, caught completely off guard by how naturally those words came out of his mouth.

“really?” you ask.

he nods before leaning down to kiss you. the moment his lips meet yours, you melt into him instinctively, every bit as comfortable there as you had been curled against him only moments earlier.

“mama, you’re mine forever whether you like it or not. i love you,” he says.

your smile softens into something quieter, something full of the kind of certainty that only comes after years of growing up together, choosing each other every day, and somehow still finding new reasons to fall in love. you snuggle deeper into his chest as he unpauses his game, his arm never leaving your waist.

“i love you too, maj.”

randy jr:

you were in randy’s car. you two were heading to hayvenhurst to meet the rest of the family for a fourth of july cookout. your phone was already propped up in the holder attached to the air vent while you fixed your hair, using the front facing camera on tik tok as a mirror while randy finished grabbing a few things from inside the house.

the driver's side door opened a moment later, and the second he settled into his seat, he leaned across the center console, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “you ready?” he asks.

you turn toward him with a grin. “yes, but let’s take a cute video together first… you know my tik tok followers love you,” you say.

randy lets out an amused laugh, already shaking his head because he knows exactly where this is going.

the first time he'd accidentally appeared in one of your videos, your comment section had practically exploded. thankfully, your followers were respectful, but ever since then they'd constantly ask when randy was going to make another appearance.

in reality, though, it wasn't so much that he liked making videos as much as he loved indulging you. if you wanted to drag him into another couples trend, he'd sigh dramatically, tease you for five seconds, and then do it anyway because seeing you happy was worth every ounce of embarrassment.

“of course, i can’t disappoint my fans,” he teases.

you roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. “whatever, boy,” you say as you hit record. randy leans over once more, stealing another kiss against your cheek before settling back into his seat, and your smile widens as you turn the camera toward the two of you.

“hey guys… happy fourth of july. i’m here with my current boyfriend randy, and we’re gonna head to his family’s house for a cookout and pool party,” you say with an easy smile.

you're so focused on sounding natural that you don't notice the way randy's expression changes almost instantly. his head slowly tilts toward you, his brows pulling together as he replays your words in his head, genuinely trying to figure out if he somehow heard you wrong.

“hold on… what did you just say?” he asks, a small, disbelieving laugh slipping into his voice. you blink at him with practiced innocence.

“i said me and my current boyfriend, which is you, we’re going to your family’s house for the cookout… is that not what we’re doing?” you ask.

randy studies you for another second before one eyebrow slowly lifts. “yes… that’s where we’re going. can i see your hand real quick?” he asks.

the second he says it, you already know exactly what he's thinking, and instead of giving him the hand he wants, you stretch your right hand toward him.

he looks down at it, then back up at you, completely unimpressed. “you know what hand i’m asking for, girl,” he says.

the tiny smile threatening your lips only grows as you finally place your left hand in his. he takes it gently, lifting it in front of your phone so the engagement ring catches the camera perfectly.

“now, everyone, i have a question. if this ring is on her left hand… why am i being called a current boyfriend?” he asks.

it's so unmistakably randy that you nearly lose it right there. he isn't even arguing with you anymore. he's presenting physical evidence to your followers, completely convinced that the ring alone should settle the debate.

you bite down on your lip so hard it almost hurts, doing everything you can to keep yourself from laughing.

“baby, stop come on, let’s just finish the video,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. you turn back toward your phone with remarkable composure. “okay, like i was saying, going to my current boyfriend’s family’s house for a cookout and a pool party,” you say.

randy lets out another incredulous laugh before turning fully toward you. “baby!” he exclaims.

“what?” you ask as you look at him.

“i just showed them the ring, they know i’m not your boyfriend, stop with the current boyfriend bull,” he says. the sheer disbelief on his face finally breaks whatever composure you had left.

a fit of giggles escapes you as you turn toward him, your shoulders shaking while he watches you with the kind of smile that says he should've known this whole thing had your fingerprints all over it.

he lets out a quiet sigh through his own laughter before looking directly into your phone. “this is my wife, and she’s not going anywhere,” randy says. your laughter softens as you look back at him, one eyebrow lifting.

“oh, so i’m a hostage now?” you tease.

randy immediately shakes his head, laughing harder now as he reaches over and gives your thigh an affectionate squeeze.

“stop playing with me, girl.”

the two of you dissolve into laughter together, and somewhere between the teasing, the engagement ring still sparkling on your hand, and the way he couldn't stop smiling at you even after you'd successfully gotten him with the prank, you realize this is exactly why your followers loved seeing him in your videos.

every trend somehow stopped being about the camera after a few seconds and became about the two of you, slipping so effortlessly into the comfortable rhythm you'd built together that it was impossible to fake.

The only exception was bubbles. You found bubbles sweet and funny, you didn’t pet him but you sometimes gave him treats and high fives. But even then, Michael had to be holding him for you to feel fully comfortable.

Last week at Hayvenhurst you were round for dinner—a usual occurrence given that the entire family loved you. After the washing up was done and the table was cleared, his family headed upstairs to go to bed but you and Michael had remained downstairs moving to the living room to watch a midnight movie—one of your favourite things to do together.

You both settled on a slasher horror movie from the early 80s that you both had never seen before, which was funny because the two of you hated scary movies but you thought why not.

“I can’t look.” Michael raises his hands covering his face.

“Neither can I…” You whisper with your own face covered by a pillow.

“How much you wanna bet he’s right behind her?” Michael whispers.

“No, no he’s definitely still in that closet Mike.”

“No way he can’t still be in there after ten minutes baby, i promise ya he’s right on her tail.” He whispers as both of you are practically trying to enter each other's skin with how pressed up together you are.

“I’m tellin ya mike he’s still in that closet, there’s too many people around for him to do somethin stupid.”

“Baby I'm tellin ya he’s not.”

“Fine. Let’s make a deal.”

Bad decision.

“Sure.”

“If he’s still in that closet, you owe me back massages for a whole week.”

“Deal. And if he’s not?”

“If he’s not…then….” You trail off trying to think.

“You have to pet all my animals.”

Your head whips towards Michael’s as he's chuckling with his head thrown back at your reaction, your jaw drops.

“Michael, no way.”

“Yes way.” He says still cracking up

“No.”

“Okay my llamas at least? Please c'mon they are the friendliest!”

“Y’know what? Fine. deal. Because I'm so certain his ass is still in that closet. And I can't wait to prove you wrong.”

“Whatever you say baby.”

You and Michael continue to stay huddled close together, he’s now sharing your pillow, joining you in looking over it at the television that's currently displaying the eerie silent scene that makes you and Michael hold you breath watching through narrowed eyes at the character walking through a dark part of the house, the sound of the characters footsteps making the floor board creak makes you grip onto Michael’s hand.

Suddenly…a loud bang sounds causing you and Michael to almost  jump off the couch, screaming as the killer attacks the character from behind—the killer who was in fact not in the closet.

When the gruesome scene finally ends Michael lowers the pillow and turns to you with a shit eating grin.

“No.”

“A deal is a deal baby.”

“Michael no. no. fucking. way. Are you out of your mind? I can't pet your animals!”

“Oh baby c’monn, please? This is a perfect opportunity for you to get over your fears.”

“No way Michael. Hell would have to freeze over.”

𓂃⋆.˚

Hell unfortunately didn’t freeze over, but his continuous begging, pleading and even bruising your ego by calling you a chicken–is how you found yourself the next day being dramatically pulled by his hand as Michael leads you to the cage where his two llamas are.

“Oh Michael I can't.” You whine trying to turn back around but he grips your shoulders redirecting you.

“C’mon baby I'm right here I promise they won’t hurt you.”

Finally approaching the llama side of his mini zoo at Hayvenhurst, you remain five feet apart from the gate as Michael walks in front of the two Peruvian llamas, extending out his hand to stroke the male one that comes to him first–Louie.

“Hi Louie, how are ya today?” He asks, speaking to his pet friend as if he was an ordinary human, stroking his ear and giving him a kiss on the side of his furry face.

Despite feeling anxious near his animals, you always melt at the sight of Michael interacting with them, it always touched your heart to see how loving and gentle he was along with how his beautiful spirit made even animals feel safe around him. 

After pressing kisses on the female one–Lola, he turns to you with a soft smile extending his hand, “C’mere baby, i promise they don’t bite.”

You begin to walk forward very slowly as if the llamas would charge at you “Oh gosh they’re lookin right at me mike!”

He chuckles at your dramatics shaking his head “They just wanna say hi baby, i tell em about you all the time.”

You continue to take agonizingly slow steps towards the cage which would drive anyone else insane but Michael is patient he doesn’t get irritated or rush you, when you finally stand where he is you cling onto him as he wraps his arm around your waist holding you close before giving your lips a peck.

“I got you baby I promise. Okay now just reach out your hand and stroke Lola’s fur, here look.” He demonstrates reaching his hand out and stroking the top of her backs fur soothingly “See? Just like that, soft n gentle she wont hurt you i swear on it.”

You take a deep breath as Michael rubs your arm supportively as you reach your shaky hand forward towards Lola, when Lola senses your hand she abruptly turns her nose to sniff it making you flinch backwards but Michael holds you firmly.

“Oh my gosh–”

“It's okay baby! It's okay! It's normal, she just wants to get used to your scent she won’t hurt you.” You roll your shoulders taking another deep breath.

“Mike, I don't know about this.”

“My love im right here she won’t harm you, okay? here lets do it together.”

He holds onto our wrist before sliding his hand over yours so that it becomes one as both of you lean it forward until your palm connects to her thick coat of fur as her soothing heat seeps through your fingers, you release a surprised gasp at the softness, this was your first time petting an animal–ever. 

“See? There you go baby.” Michael whispers with a proud growing smile watching you stroke your palm back and forth over Lola’s fur, he’s removed his hand from yours ages ago but you haven’t realised.

“Shes so soft and warm” You whisper unaware of the warm smile that's painted your own face. The llama makes soft humming sounds indicating she's enjoying the strokes just as Louie makes his way over wanting some attention too.

“Looks like Louie wants some love too baby.” Michael whispers, caressing Louie's furry face.

You decide to be brave, removing your hand away from Lola to move it towards Louie who is currently getting love from Michael. When Michael sees your hand reaching out for Louie his eyes light up with a big smile as you stroke Louie with a little bit more confidence, even moving to stroke his ears where Michael just was.

“Baby you’re doin it! Oh my gosh m'so proud of you.”

You smile shyly at your boyfriend's praises, feeling as if you were a child who just learnt to ride a bike for the first time.

“See? Look they love you baby, told ya so.” He whispers giving Lola some attention as you continue to pet Louie. 

“Wanna feed em?” He asks as you turn your head to him.

“Mmm..i dunno mike–”

“C’mon please? I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

You exhale softly knowing that you’ve gained a little bit more confidence seeing that they have in fact been harmless towards you so far. “Alright..but just a little bit.”

“Of course!” Michael says before reaching below to where a bucket of hay is, grabbing a small handful and placing it in your palms.

“Here baby, okay just reach your palms out and Louie will eat it.” 

Feeling jittery again, you reach out your hay filled palms slightly flinching when Louie’s attention is back on you as he heads over leaning his neck down before using his tongue to collect the hay into his mouth.

You laugh feeling the slickness of his tongue tickle your palms as he finishes it all hungrily you can’t help but watch in awe “Good job Louie.” You say stroking the top of his furry head.

This continues for about twenty minutes, feeding the llamas hay and grass with Michael who joins in whilst watching you fondly making sure you’re okay. He witnesses your fear of them melt away into adoration, a complete contrast of the scared girl he brought over to Hayvenhurst for the time. He sees your new confidence taking over as you continue to speak to them the way he does, and even shocking both him and yourself when you lean in pressing a kiss on both of them. 

You turn your head meeting Michael’s eyes that's already trained on you with pride mirroring his own warm smile with your own “I can’t believe I'm really doin this mike!” You exclaim excitedly as Michael laughs handing you more grass.

“I always knew you could baby. See? Completely harmless.”

“You’re right, they're sweethearts! I was scared for nothing!”

“Mhm, soo…are you ready for the tigers?”

He watches the smile on your face drop faster than lightening as he drops the bucket of grass laughing loudly holding his stomach.

“Real funny Michael.”

𑣲⋆｡˚

Thank you so much for reading <𝟑 .ᐟ

"Are you ready, Mikey?" You called out from his closet. Michael was laid out on his bed, waiting for you to show him the final result of your shopping spree.

You decided to visit your boyfriend after to show him your items which he technically paid for since you used his card.

“Yes, baby!” He responded, slightly perking up from excitement. He loves seeing your outfits especially when they hug your curves so well.

As you walked out, a smile formed on his face, eyes trailed down your outfit. “Tadaaa!” You gave him a 360, showing off the black top and jeans.

His eyes kept drifting to the key hole top, seeing your cleavage revealed. “You look so good, mama.” He smiled, swinging his legs off the bed, coming to his full 5,9 height.

“So you really like it? I was debating on getting the top, but—.” You were cut off by his lips on yours, large palms cradling your face in his hands. You moaned as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, letting him ease his tongue into your mouth.

Michael wasn’t the kind of guy to jump at intimacy the first chance he got so something must have set him off. “You look so pretty.” He mumbled against your mouth, lips meeting yours once again.

His hand trailed down to your chest, gently caressing your breast. His kisses moved to your neck, leaving a cool moisture against it causing you to bite your lip.

“M-Mikey, what’s gotten into you?” Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the heat build up in your panties. “Baby, I need you.” He wrapped his arms around your legs, picking you up.

You giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he continued to mark your neck. “Your brothers are home though.” He laid you on his bed, not paying your sentence any mind.

“We’ll be quiet.” He mumbled against your neck. His hands trailed up your shirt, meeting your warm skin making you arch into him.

He sat up, a dazed look on his face as he looked directly through the hole in the shirt. “Can I just buy you another one?” He asked, eyes coming up to yours.

“Why would you bu—” A loud rip sounded through the room as he tore the shirt, using the pre cut hole. You gasped, seeing the black fabric now in his hands.

“MICHAEL!” You yelled, now fully siting up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He quickly said, pushing you back down. Before you could even think about cussing him out, he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

Your hands clenched against the sheets, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth. His hand came to rub and pinch the other nipple.

“M-Mikey—fuck—you ripped my top.” You groaned. He disconnected his lips for a split second. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.”

As he slurped his nipple in your mouth, he let out a soft moan against it making you clench around nothing. You were truly soaked at that point.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers coming to rest against his curls. You tried to keep your moans to yourself, but he seemed as if he was on a mission.

He sat up to look at you, “Can I eat your pussy? Please.” Michael begged, a slight furrow in his eyebrows, lips wet from his recent ministrations.

You nodded, the desperate look on his face made you want to give him the world. He looked like he was shaking with need. He immediately wrapped his fingers around your waistband taking everything off at once.

The cool air blew against your wet pussy, and he pushed your legs towards your shoulders, opening you up for him. “You’re so wet, mama.” He whispers, kneeling down before you.

“All for you, baby.” You said. He wrapped his lips around your clit, giving it a gentle suck making your eyes roll back. “Oh my Goddd.” You moaned.

He flattened his tongue and delivered a slow stroke from your entrance to your clit. Your legs shook as you looked down to see his eyes closed, nose rubbing against your clit.

You would’ve thought you haven’t been eaten out in decades based off the way your body was reacting. His arm circled around your thigh, palm coming to rest on your tummy to stop you from moving.

He pulled back to allow a trail of spit to drop down your clit, and rubbed it in his with thumb. “Your pussy taste so good. It’s all mine right?” He asked, doe eyes trailing to look at you.

“Y-yes, Mikey.” Your legs shook, feet resting on his shoulder blades. He came back down warm tongue rubbing against your clit once again. You felt his finger prod against your entrance, using your wetness to ease it in.

You gasped, hips bucking into his mouth. “Mmm.” He moaned against your center. He slid in another finger now plunging them in and out, eyes watching your expression.

You covered your mouth with your palm, leaving the wet sounds of your pussy and his mouth circling around the room. You felt the heavy pressure in your stomach as your orgasm crept up on you.

He noticed your hips chasing after his mouth and sucked on your clit while curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against your g-spot.

“Cum f’me, mama.” He demanded causing your body to shutter. You released into his mouth and he didn’t hesitate to replace his fingers with his tongue, licking inside to collect every drop of your essence.

“O-okay, Mikey.” You said, pushing his head back from your now sensitive pussy. He removed his mouth, a slight line of saliva connecting his tongue to your pussy before it broke.

He stood up, unzipping his pants in a hurried rush dragging his pants and boxers down. His tip was dripping pre-cum, stiff dick slightly bouncing in the air.

“Need to be inside you.” He said crawling over your body, leaving kisses all over your face. “Give it to me, Mikey, please.” You begged while arching your back into him.

He slapped his heavy tip against your swollen clit a few times, before slowly entering it in. You whined wrapping your arms around him. His eyes rolled back as you tightened around him, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

“Mama, you feel so good.” He whimpered. He paused waiting for you to adjust. You felt your walls ease around him, legs shivering at the stretch. “Breathe for me, baby. Let me in.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes, slowing down your breathing to relax your body allowing him to push to the base. “T-too big.” You whimpered.

“It’s inside mama, can you take it for me? I-I wanna feel you cum around me.”

Michael knows exactly how to get what he wants. He knows how dirty talk makes you clench around him, falling more into his voice.

“I’ll take it for you, Mikey.”

“Yea? Y’gonna take it f’me?”

You nodded quickly, a whimper spilling out of your mouth. His hips slowly pulled out, snapping back into you. The bed creaked, headboard slightly hitting the wall.

Your bottom lip was once again captured between your teeth, a heavy exhale falling from your nose. “You hear her mama? I think she missed me.” He let out a giggle followed by a whiny moan in your ear.

He wasn’t wrong, the creamy sounds of your pussy hit your ears.

Your mind was practically blank as he continued to thrust into you, speeding up and sending moans flying out of your mouth. “I-I—” you don’t even know what you were trying to say.

“Shhh, you doing good f’me. I love this pussy.” He whimpered. He sat up, putting your legs around his shoulders and lifted your hips a bit to reach a deeper depth.

“MICHAEL!” You cried out, scrambling for anything to grab. You don’t even care about how loud you were, only feeling Michael.

“B-baby, don’t clench like that.” He whimpered, starting to move your body up and down his length.

He was simply dragging you back and forth on his dick, slamming you against him with force. He stared down at you which sent you spiraling into your second orgasm.

The headboard slammed against the wall as he begin to move his own hips burying his dick farther in your. “M-Mikey, I can’t take it.” Your hand flew to press against his abdomen.

“You can, mama. I need it—I need you around me.” He moved your hand out of the way, planting his hands beside your head. Your heart sped up watching him lean over you, your thighs now pressed against your chest.

“M-Mikey wai-FUCK!” You cried as his hips began slamming into you. You would’ve thought the bed was gonna break as it continued to slam against the wall.

“So good—oh my God—it’s so good.” He whispered, tears pricking his eyes. “I’m sorry mama—I just wanna cum inside you.” His hips slammed against your ass repeatedly.

“MICHAEL, KEEP IT DOWN!” You heard a shout from outside of his door. It seemed as if he didn’t process a thing, eyes tightly clenched above you as he continued to pound your pussy.

“C-can’t—pretty pussy—need it.” He began to babble indicating he was close to his orgasm. “All mine—gonna cum inside of you—make you a mommy.”

“W-wait!” You cried out, pussy sensitive to his neediness. Your legs flailed helplessly over his shoulders as he dug inside of you. Your body shifted moving up the bed and he followed after you.

“Take it—take it mommy.” He whimpered, hands coming to hold you down. His eyes stared down at you, pooled with tears that slowly rolled down his face. He was in absolute desperation to cum inside of you, mind clouded from the feeling of your pussy.

You couldn’t fight the third orgasm that took over you, clenching tightly around his dick. He let out a moan mixed with a deep grunt from his chest as ropes of cum shot into you.

“I love you—I love you—please.” He whimpered still grinding down into you, as he fucked both of your orgasms into you. You were in absolute shell shock, entire body practically vibrating below him.

The room was filled with heavy breathing, small whimpers leaving your mouth. “I’m sorry.” He whispered pulling out, eyeing the mixture of your essence dripping out of your hole.

“ARE Y’ALL DONE?!” He heard from outside of his room, suddenly shy and embarrassed. “SORRY.” He yelled back.

He cleared his throat, wiping the stray tears from his face and looked at you.

“I’ll buy you a new shirt, I promise.”

when you two started dating five months ago, he wanted that structure. he wanted to show you that he loved your mind and your spirit, that he could be the perfect gentleman who honoured the promises you both made to wait.

and for a while, it was easy. you slipped into a comfortable rhythm where everything else seemed to fade into the background. he loved the ordinary days most — the afternoons spent lying in your bed and talking about nothing in particular for hours, sharing snacks, or teasing each other until his stomach ached from laughing.

michael was the kind of boyfriend who couldn't keep his hands off you in the gentlest ways. he’d always reach out to loop his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side, or he’d absentmindedly drum out little beats against your knee with his fingers while you talked. it was the little things.

but lately, something had started to change.

every time he kissed you, the boundaries he'd worked so hard to maintain seemed to blur a little more. the sweet, chaste kisses had slowly shifted over the last few weeks, turning into something… hungrier.

you'd spend hours tangled together in the dark, your mouths moving lazily against each other's as your tongues brushed and tangled until both your heads were spinning. by the time he finally forced himself to pull away, his heart would be battering against his ribs, his jeans painfully tight. he'd lower his face into the crook of your neck, pretending he simply wanted to hold you a little longer when really he was trying to hide how badly he ached for you.

eventually, the heat didn't even need a kiss to spark anymore.

just being around you distracted him, clouding his mind with thoughts that left his skin burning with shame.

he'd started doing things he never would've dared during those first few months of dating. his hands, once so careful, had begun wandering without him even realizing it. he'd find excuses to press the growing hardness in his jeans against your hip during a simple hug, letting out a shaky breath as he subtly nudged himself closer just to feel the warmth of your body.

if you were standing in the kitchen, he’d hover behind you, his front flushing right against your ass while he pretended to reach for something, letting his long fingers drag along the curve of your waist a second longer than they needed to. he was becoming a fiend for your body, his lidded eyes constantly tracking the way your clothes clung to you or staring at your ass when you walked past him.

just the other day, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor by his stereo, letting his pet snake, muscles, coil lazily around your arms while your fingers brushed lightly over his scales. you were wearing his button-down shirt that slipped slightly off one side, exposing the smooth curve of your collarbone and the top of your shoulder. michael had been standing near the window, but his eyes were glued onto you.

he watched the slow glide of your fingertips along the scales, and a completely different — dirty image flashed in his mind. It was so filthy that it made his stomach drop.

he imagined walking over right in front of you, unbuckling his belt and letting his hard, aching dick spring free at your eye level. he pictured catching your wrist, gently lifting your hand away and guiding your palm straight onto his skin. he wanted to teach you exactly how to hold him, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and moving your hand in that same stroke you were using right now.

he could practically feel the warmth of your hand squeezing him, sliding all the way down to his base and back up to the wet tip. he’d bite his lip as he looked down at you, a groan slipping from his chest as you coated your palm in his precum.

a hot blush rushed straight to his cheeks the second he snapped back to reality. his heart was hammering, and he could feel the thick length of his dick swelling and pressing uncomfortably against the denim of his jeans.

michael quickly licked his lips, pressing them together in that nervous habit of his, pretending to fuss with the cuffs of his shirt as he tried to steady his breathing. he was terrified that if you looked up right now, you'd somehow see every sinful thought written across his face.

the guilt from those daydreams always ate at him later. it settled deep in his chest, making him feel sick for even letting his mind wander that far. he'd whisper quiet apologies to god on the drive back home and promise that it wouldn't happen again.

but then he'd see you the next day, and the cycle would repeat.

the very first time the boundaries cracked was a couple of weeks ago.

the house was full from a family gathering, and the distant chatter of his siblings echoed from down the hall. you were curled up against his side, one of your legs draped comfortably over his thighs while your fingers idly toyed with the buttons of his shirt. michael’s arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, holding you close while the pad of his middle finger slowly stroked back and forth against your leg. 

"i was thinking we try that little milkshake place tomorrow," you murmured, looking up at him with a smile. "the one down the street with the neon sign. you keep saying you wanna go."

michael nodded, but his mind was already completely somewhere else. his gaze had dropped, his half-lidded eyes slowly roaming over your face before sliding down to the bare skin of your collarbone. "mhm... yeah. okay," he murmured, his voice low.

you couldn't help the warm blush that rushed to your cheeks at the look he was giving you. "is something distracting you?" you teased.

his mouth curved into a small crooked smile, one that shows that he knew he was caught. "'m not distracted."

"no?" you smiled as he shook his head. you leaned up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

before you could even think about pulling back, michael’s hand came alive. his fingers slid up to cup your jaw, his long fingers dragging your face right back into his to completely cut off your retreat. though, the sweetness of the kiss was no longer there.

his mouth opened wide over yours, his tongue pushing past your teeth to slide deep into your mouth, tangling with yours deeply, stealing your breath. you let out a soft whine, your hands gripping his shoulders as his mouth grew hungrier, his lips sliding over yours in a way that made your ears ring.

his hands moved down to your waist, gripping you tight as he shifted his weight, pushing you backward until your back hit the plush couch cushions. he crowded right over you, his frame trapping you against the cushions as your legs opened and welcomed him in. the blunt pressure of his hard dick pressed perfectly against your core through his trousers. a low groan rattled in his chest as his hands slid down to cup your ass through your clothes as he dragged his length firmly up against you.

you let out a sharp gasp at the slide of it, your body trembling. hearing that little noise only seemed to drive him crazier. he loved it and wanted to hear more, so he gripped your hips and dragged you over him again, his own waist giving a nudge into you.

"michael, w-we shouldn't be doing this,” you managed to breathe out, breaking the kiss for a second, your chest heaving as you looked at him with wide eyes.

but he didn't let the words fully leave your mouth before he was leaning back in, capturing your lips again to swallow the rest of your protest. his mouth was so warm and wet, parting yours with a soft, demanding pressure that made your thoughts immediately start to scatter. you tried to hold onto the hesitation, but as his tongue slid back inside to tangle with yours, the worry melted out of your head, drowned out by the thick heat pooling in your belly.

his waist gave another firm nudge upward, his thick length grinding right against your soaking core. you let out a weak whine into his mouth, your fingers digging hard into his shoulders. michael groaned, breaking the kiss only to drag his lips down the line of your jaw, his breath puffing against your skin before he buried his mouth in the soft crook of your neck. he sucked gently at the sensitive skin there.

michael knew you both shouldn't be doing this. there was a small, nagging flicker of guilt at the back of his mind — the quiet voice of everything he'd been raised to believe about keeping things pure. every line drawn only existed until the moment he couldn't stand the ache anymore. but he was certain he was going to marry you one day, so did the rules even matter? it just felt too good.

so he continued to work you back and forth over his dick, his pelvis tilting upward to grind against you.

it wasn't like he was fucking you — but shit, now michael has a mental image of him fucking you, and it was not helping.

you felt exactly how hard he was beneath his pants, and the pressure of him against you only made you wetter. with each rut of his hips, your panties pressed deeper into your folds, soaking through the fabric and sending waves of pleasure through you.

you let out a whine that was a little too loud, the sound cutting through the room. michael’s eyes widened slightly in panic, his hand slid up to cover your mouth

"shh, y'gotta stay quiet f'me, honey," he whispered.

you nodded helplessly against his hand, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he started to grind against you again. you let out a quiet gasp when your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him down to press him even harder against you. the hard edge of his zipper caught on your clit with one upward push, sending a shock of pleasure through your body. and you were cumming before you could even think, his name slipping out of your mouth in a muffled cry as you squirmed against him.

michael looked down at you, his brows furrowing slightly as he breathed out. “christ, did y’just…”

but the way your hips were jerking against his was the only answer he needed. and with a low whimper, he was cumming too, his hips rutting into your lap as he spent himself, his cum soaking through his pants until a wet patch bloomed across the denim. his head dropped onto your shoulder, his whiny moans vibrating against your ear as his whole body went slack and melted against you.

the murmur of his family down the hall had felt miles away, drowned out by the sound of your ragged breathing. as the daze slowly cleared from his head, michael pulled back, his eyes still hooded and dark as he looked down between your laps at the ruined denim. a wave of guilt settled over the space.

you swallowed hard, looking up at him with nervous eyes. "michael... i can't believe we just did that."

he bit his lip, brushing his hand over his mouth. his fingers tapped lightly against his lips as his gaze roamed over your flushed face, grounding himself. his hand slid down to cup your jaw, his touch incredibly gentle as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead murmuring that it was okay, it didn't count because it wasn't actually sex.

since then, his mind was constantly working to find loopholes, finding ways to bend the rules to chase that feeling once more without feeling like he was betraying everything he stood for.

and it didn't take long for him to find his next excuse. a few nights later, tucked away in your bedroom, he talked you right out of your shorts, leaving you in nothing but thin cotton panties. you were already leaking through the material, the fabric turning damp from where your slick was pooling.

he knelt between your thighs. he could see the plump shape of your pussy from how they clung to you, almost see-through from how much your pussy wept for him.

he parted his lips and leaned in, burying his face into your clothed cunt. the heat of his mouth hit you right through the cloth, and a half-sobbed cry tore out of your throat, your hands flying down to clutch at his hair.

"o-oh, michael, fuck," you whispered, breathless, and he moaned in response — a sound so deep and guttural it vibrated straight to your core. it was filthy and hungry, like the sound of someone finally getting the thing they've been starving for.

his fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, tugging the waistband up tight so the wet cotton wedged deep between your puffy folds. he began sucking your arousal off your underwear, pulling the cloth taut with his lips as his tongue flattened out to lap greedily over your clit. he was on high off the taste of you, letting out these high, whiny moans that vibrated directly into your clit.

"michael, t-this is so dirty," you whispered, your voice trembling as your hips twitched against his lips.

he paused, lifting his face just an inch. he looked so incredibly pretty from that angle, his dark eyes hooded and his full lips glistening with your moisture. "s'not dirty, baby," he rasped, his soft voice slurring slightly from need. "you're too sweet for it t'be dirty. y'taste heavenly..." his gaze flickered down between your thighs for a second. "...and your panties're still on, so 'm only kissin' you... right?" he looked up at you through his eyelashes, waiting.

hearing his soft words phrased like that made you squirm against the sheets, your hands flying to cover your eyes. you couldn't even form a proper answer, just letting out a tiny whine behind your palm that served as agreement.

his mind was already a mess of filthy thoughts. he was imagining what it would feel like to tear the fabric away with his teeth and drown his tongue inside your wetness, picturing how loud you'd scream if he was sliding his dick into this soaking heat instead of just his mouth.

driven by his own thoughts, he pushed the solid tip of his tongue hard against your entrance through the barrier of your panties. you could feel the blunt shape of it trying to poke inside your hole, stretching the cotton taut against your opening.

you let out a loud whine, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise as your body bucked right off the mattress. your thighs started to tremble around his head, helpless as he ate you through the ruined cloth.

his tongue dragged up the damp fabric, slow and greedy, before his mouth sealed over your clit. he sucked hard through the wet cotton, making your thighs jerk around his head. michael was losing his mind, completely obsessed with the sweet taste of you soaking right through the cloth.

he groaned again, grinding his mouth deeper against you, smothering himself in your heat and slick as if he'd completely forgotten the cloth was even there. when your body tried to buck, his grip shifted, his large hands clamping onto your hips to pin you down.

he held you perfectly still.

he was fucking feasting, and your body knew it — your body was responding — every muscle tense, your thighs beginning to tremble.

your hands clutched at his hair, desperate, and you felt your own wetness smear hotter through the cotton as he shifted slightly, tongue tracing the edge of your panties now, like he was teasing himself just as much as he was teasing you.

he slowed down for a second, tormenting you by just pressing a soft, feather-light kiss right against your swollen clit — a touch so bare it made you cry out from the lack of pressure. his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, tugging the fabric up tight so the wet cotton wedged deep between your folds.

with your underwear pulled taut, he used the flat of his hand to rub the soaked material back and forth against your peak, using the damp cloth to grind directly into your slick center until you were sobbing.

he dropped his mouth back down over your drenched center, his lips sealing over your swollen peak. you let out a broken scream, silently thanking god that no one was home as his tongue plunged back into the wet cotton, flattening out to lick you with broad strokes that had your hips bucking off the bed.

the relentless lap of his tongue was pushing you right over the edge, your chest heaved, your fingers knotting into his dark curls as you felt the coil tighten in your tummy.

"y'close, baby?" he asked, his voice so soft. he felt the tremors running through your body. he paused his licking for a second, keeping his lips pressed to your swollen nub.

"let go, sweetheart," he mumbled as he looked up at you. "c'mon. lemme feel you. i got you."

his voice was your final breaking point. he lapped at you again, his tongue moving in fast strokes, flattening out to press the drenched fabric deep into your aching folds.

"thaat's it... god, you're so wet," he groaned against your skin, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still. "give it t'me, baby. let it out."

and then you were crashing over the edge. your back arched off the mattress, a loud, broken sob tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you in violent waves. your hips jerked uncontrollably against his face. michael stayed buried right against you, lapping over your clit as he worked you through your cries, greedily drinking down every single drop of your release through your panties until your trembling thighs went slack.

the room fell silent again, save for the sound of your ragged breathing.

it wasn't like you didn't know any better. you knew that you weren't supposed to be doing this. but you just couldn't say no to him when he made you feel like this.

and his sweet words were like nectar in your ears, making it far too easy for him to turn wrong into right. if he wanted to push his excuses further, you were going to let him.

besides, you were already so wet, your slick coating your pussy, and he was still throbbing, rock hard and desperate against your hip. there wouldn't be any harm in helping him out too... right?

so when he crawled back up your body, peppering tender kisses over your cheeks, your nose, and your glossy lips, making you melt right into the mattress. he kissed you like you were something precious, his hands trembling as he shifted himself between your thighs.

"baby," he whispered against your mouth, his voice raspy with need as his fingers worked at his unbuckled belt, pulling his length free. "'m achin' so bad f'you. will y'let me jus..."

you were nodding even though he didn't even finish his sentence. he guided the broad head of his dick straight against your soaked panties. he dragged his length up and down the damp seam, pressing the wet cotton deeper into your puffy slit. you whimpered his name, your thighs trembling from how sensitive you still were from your orgasm.

michael moaned in response, his hips giving a gentle thrust into you. his dick ground right against your core, making you squirm under him. he continued his movement once more, dragging himself over your slick before his fingers reached down, hooking the damp elastic.

he pushed it to the side, exposing your bare cunt to the cool air. a quiet groan escaped him at the sight, his long fingers guiding his dick straight to your pussy. his thumbs pulled your folds apart, a string of slick catching and stretching between them before snapping, glistening under your bedroom light.

he bit his lip in concentration as he glided through your slick, letting out a shaky breath as his hot tip smeared up and down your aching folds.

you squirmed under his dark stare, feeling so exposed with the way he was looking down at you. "michael…" you whimpered, your thighs trying to press shut to hide yourself from him.

"no, no, baby, please don't hide." his hands flew straight to your thighs, pinning them open wide. his voice sounded pathetic as he looked down at you.

he guided his dick right back to your center, rubbing his shaft up and down into your folds. the hot tip caught right over your swollen clit, making your hips jerk into him. he bit his lip, his brows knit in concentration as he stared down at the filthy sight.

you lifted your head to look, letting out a soft mewl at the sight alone. his dick was so thick against you that your folds were barely visible underneath him, completely buried beneath his girth, which was probably why he had to pull you so far apart. both of you were so wet — a messy mix of your slick and his pre-cum coating his length and your skin until it looked like he’d already spent himself all over you.

he was hypnotized by it, and so were you.

his thumbs moved to press his dick firmly against your cunt, dragging it back and forth over your opening, and you gasped at the pressure. he was moaning so much you'd think he was actually inside you, his chest heaving as he worked himself against your wetness. he bit his bottom lip — feeling the overwhelming need to bite onto something, anything — as he gently guided the head of his dick through your silken, dripping folds, and oh—

his tip caught right on your drooling entrance, popping against your tight hole and making you buck up hard into him.

"o-oh god— baby," he breathed out, his whole body shaking.

he froze right there, dropping his forehead against your collarbone as he let out a long, ragged exhale. his hands squeezed your thighs, trying to ground himself and pull his head together.

"okay..." he muttered more to himself than to you, lifting his head to look down where he was pressed against you.

he started sliding his length up and down through your wet slit again, taking slow, careful strokes. he tried to keep it gentle, dragging his shaft over your folds, but you were driving him insane — your moans and how soaked you were. and with every slide down, the head of his dick kept nudging itself right into your wet opening.

the restraint barely lasted. his breathing went shallow, his chest heaving as the feeling of your slick on his dick wiped his mind clean. those slow glides turned into desperate, messy ruts before he even realized what he was doing.

his pace was speeding up. the head of his dickkept catching on your drooling entrance with every push, popping against the tight ring and threatening to slip in. your entrance was constricting around his sensitive tip as you bit down hard on your hand to muffle your loud mewls, but it was practically useless against the noises tearing from your throat.

"b-baby..." he choked out, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he whimpered, his breath coming in hot, shallow hitches against your skin. "i-i can't... i can't—"

he squeezed your thighs tighter, his whole body shaking as he tried and failed to pull his hips back. he sounded out of breath, every word breaking apart in his throat as he dragged his wet head right over your swollen nub before pressing it right back against your tight opening.

"please, sweet girl... please jus'— jus' the tip?" his voice cracked, desperate against your skin as he practically sobbed the words out. "please let me jus' put the tip in."

you were already so dazed, your whole body aching for him. you brought your hands up to cup the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into his damp curls. you pulled him down closer, pressing your forehead against his as you let out a shaky sigh right against his mouth.

"o-okay, yeah, put it in," you whispered, your voice shaking as you spread your thighs just a little wider for him.

so he pulled his hips back slightly, the head of his dick barely hanging in before he pushed right back inside with a mewl. his hips slowly started moving back and forth, relishing the tight squeeze of your pussy gripping him every time he threatened to slip out.

but then he pushed forward just a bit more. you gasped at the new sensation rippling through you, a soft, wet squelch echoing between your thighs as he worked his tip in and out.

and of course, the fucking promise to wait flashed through your mind now of all times, but you couldn't help how good it felt to have his head stretching your walls. you couldn't help how your pussy was greedily sucking him in, only begging for more of him. you couldn't help the way your hips rolled up to swallow him deeper, or how your drooling center was coating his dick in your own slick.

michael was still trying so hard to fight his urges — desperate to keep his word and not push in more than the tip. but then your legs came up, wrapping around his waist and pulling him in deeper, shoving him further into your heat until both of you were gasping for air.

"s-shit, baby," he breathed straight against your lips, his whole body shuddering. your mind didn't even process the curse leaving his mouth — too overwhelmed by the fullness of him.

michael pulled back just enough to look at you, letting out a huff that was full of genuine disbelief. his cheeks were flushed dark, his eyes wide as he hovered over your face.

"did y'mean to do that?" he whispered as he looked down at where your ankles were locked around his waist.

heat rushed to your face. you bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze for a second before nodding softly. "i... i really want you, michael... so bad," you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.

the soft tone of your voice made his dick twitch against your walls. you bit back a tiny smile at the feeling, but he caught it anyway. he let out a quiet breath, a pretty, crooked smile spreading across his face. he bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes melting as they locked on yours.

"yeah?" he breathed. you nodded in response.

"can y'take the rest, baby?" he asked gently.

your brows furrowed in confusion. "the rest?"

you lifted your head, your eyes dropping down between your legs to see what he meant, and your jaw practically dropped. you froze as you realized he wasn't even halfway inside you. the girth of him had filled your entrance completely, so you'd assumed he was all the way in.

michael caught the exact moment it clicked in your head, letting out a soft chuckle. "oh, baby..." he cooed softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone to soothe your wide-eyed shock.

"'s okay, sweet girl. 'm gonna go slow f'you, i promise. just tell me if it's too much."

you swallowed hard, your mind racing as you looked back up into his soft, reassuring eyes. you nodded, your fingers tightening around his shoulders. "okay... yeah."

he nodded back, taking in a steadying breath. holding your gaze, he tilted his pelvis forward and pushed deeper, burying another inch of his thick length inside you.

a gasp tore from your throat as your walls stretched wide around him, your hips twitching on instinct.

"still okay?" michael whispered, his voice straining as he held himself still.

"y-yeah... keep going," you whimpered out.

you couldn't bring yourself to look away. your eyes dropped back down, mesmerized as you watched the length of his dick slowly disappear bit by bit into your wet opening. the sight of it made your cunt flutter around him.

michael let out a whimper at the tight squeeze, his hips accidentally bucking forward harder than he intended. he sank another two inches deep into your core, and a broken whine slipped out of your lips at the fullness stretching you open.

his thumb reached down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing the sensitive nub to help ease the stretch. the sharp sting melted into liquid heat.

"better?" he rasped, his thumb working you in tight circles.

"y-yeah... god, yeah," you moaned out, your head rolling back against the pillow as the pleasure washed over you.

michael watched your face intently, tracking every small twitch, every sharp inhale, and the way your features contorted in pure bliss. holding your gaze, he slowly tilted his pelvis forward, pushing deeper into your cunt. inch by inch, his shaft buried itself past your walls, stretching you open until he finally bottomed out, his pelvis grinding flush against yours.

you let out a broken gasp, feeling him so deep inside you it felt like he was reaching all the way up into your chest.

his dick gave a twitch deep in your gut, and a shaky "g-god..." scraped out of his throat.

you looked up at him, expecting him to be looking at your face or down where your bodies connected, but his hooded eyes were glued to your lower stomach.

you followed his gaze and caught your breath. there was an unmistakable, raised bulge sitting against the skin of your lower belly — the prominent shape of his dick pressing outward from inside your body. you could literally see the outline of his head tenting your skin from within, proving just how ridiculously deep he was buried inside you.

michael traced his thumb lightly over the rounded rise on your tummy, his mouth hanging open in awe as his whole body shuddered on top of you.

"look at you…" he rasped. a breathless groan spilled past his lips as he nudged forward just a hair more, watching the bulge shift under your skin. "takin' every inch… gosh, such a good girl."

the stretch was overwhelming, an aching fullness that made your toes curl into the sheets. you reached down, covering his hand where it rested on your tummy, feeling the heat of his palm pressed right over the spot where he was plugged into you.

"michael, please..." you panted, your hips twitching helplessly under him. "move... please."

and who was he to deny you? he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulled back, slowly dragging his length almost all the way out until just his tip was resting against your entrance before he plunged right back in, burying himself all the way to his hilt with a wet slap.

a loud cry tore out of your chest as he bottomed out again, your walls clamping down tight around him.

his pace picked up as he started working his hips in long, deep rolls, every thrust grinding his pelvis against your clit while his dick stretched your tight cunt. the squelching sound of your slick filled the room, loud and messy — a rhythmic plap plap plap echoing off the walls every time his hips slammed flush against yours.

"so wet for me," he whimpered against your jaw, his lips dragging down your neck to leave messy kisses while his hips pounded steady into your lap. "y'take it so good, sweet girl... look how deep 'm in you..."

he pressed down firm on the bulge on your belly right as he thrust deep, pushing his palm right into the swell of skin. the extra pressure was too much, making your hips jerk clean off the mattress as you writhed under him. you reached down, your fingers trying to push his hand away from your tummy.

"d-don't run, baby," he rasped, catching your wrist and guiding your hand up to grip the pillow, making sure you had something to clutch as you tried to find leverage. "y'asked f'this, didn't you?"

he leaned down and pressed his mouth over yours, capturing your lips while his hips kept grinding deep, burying himself flush against your pussy. you let out a whimper against his tongue, helpless as he worked you back and forth.

you were so close to the edge, your walls began to flutter around him. he felt the squeeze of your pussy gripping his dick and let out a broken gasp into your mouth.

"oh-oh... y'close?" he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes wide and hooded. "y'gonna cum f'me again, baby?"

you nodded frantically.

"yeah? c'mon baby... please cum on my— oh," he begged, his voice breaking into a whimpering mess as he slammed his hips forward again. "yes, yes, please... 'need to feel it,"

the snap inside you had you feeling like you were on cloud nine, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. your chest heaved, your voice so hoarse from screaming his name that your moans completely cut off into dry hitches. you couldn't even form a real sound as a wave tore through your core, your cunt violently gushing and squirting all over his dick, soaking his thighs and drenching the sheets beneath you.

michael felt the warm spray coat his dick, his dark eyes widening before he thrust even harder into your gushing warmth.

"o-oh... y-you're..." his breath hitched, his brain completely short-circuiting at the sight and feeling of you squirting all over him. his head dropped as he gripped your hips tighter. "oh god—"

"that's it, give it all to me," he rasped, his voice a broken mess in your ear.

your walls kept pulsing around him, milking every inch of his dick while you spurted everywhere. he tried to hold out, but the coil in his belly was too much to fight. his hips stuttered, a wrecked groan tearing from his chest as he shoved himself all the way in, burying his face in your neck as his body finally gave out.

with a stretched out whine, he came deep inside you. thick streams of his release flooded into your core, filling you to the brim until his dick was covered at the base.

he kept moving, taking slow, languid thrusts as he rode out his own high. his dick pushed his milky white seed in and out of your walls. with every slide, the mixture overflowed from your entrance, pooling between your thighs and dripping onto the sheets below.

his head was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged hitches against your skin while you both lay there catching your breath.

your hand moved up lazily, your fingers playing loosely with his curls as you stroked the back of his neck. the room was silent except for your panting, until a soft sniffle broke through the quiet.

your brows pulled together, your hand pausing in his hair. you gently pushed his shoulder back to see his face. "michael?" you whispered.

a single tear streak was glistening down his flushed cheek.

"were you crying?"

"no," he immediately mumbled, turning his head away and trying to hide his face in your neck while his hand came up to clumsily wipe at his eye. "n-no i wasn't."

a soft laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you tried to tilt his chin back up so you could actually look at him. he was so cute. "michael, look at me."

he let out a soft huff, his cheeks flushing. "i-i don't know," he confessed quietly. "it just... it felt really good."

you couldn't hide the smile spilling across your face if you tried, your heart melting at him.

"don't make fun of me," he whined softly, hiding his face behind his hands.

"'m not, i promise," you murmured gently. you reached up, gently pulling his hands away, and caught both sides of his face, your hands holding his cheeks as you pulled him back down to kiss him tenderly.

when you pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, looking up at you through his long lashes with so much affection that it made your head spin.

his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, holding you so close that there wasn't an inch of space left between your bodies.

tomorrow, the reality of what you'd just done would catch up to him. tomorrow, the guilt would return, and he'd have to face the stained sheets and the fact that every lie he'd told himself to justify this was gone.

he knew it counted — it always counted, you both knew it.

but for now, the unsaid truth hung quietly in the air, pushed aside just for tonight while all that mattered was the warmth of your skin against his, and the sound of your soft breathing as he held you tight.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

oh hey guys.. how are we doing on this fine day

Bistro Garden restaurant was filled with laughter, and family banters.

Today was considered the “Katherine Jackson Day.” Michael and his siblings planned and hosted a surprise 54th birthday party for their mother.

Of course, you came along with Michael as well.

Everyone was talking about memories, joking and bringing up stories. You were mindlessly eating and joining in once in a minute. Michael sat next to you joking along but he was focused on eating the food off of his plate.

You excused yourself from the table to take a walk around the place. It was a very beautiful place after all.

As you were walking, you felt a tug on your hand. You looked down and was greeted with Taj, Tito’s first son.

“Do you want to walk with me?” You asked the 11 year old boy, and he wasted no time as he nodded. You held onto Taj’s hand as you and him both explored the place yourselves.

The walk was surprisingly peaceful and easy going. Taj would talk about his new toy he got or music he enjoyed.

“My dad, got me this toy on my last Birthday! It was so awesome. You have to come see.”

“I will, and maybe I will bring you even more toys.”

“Really?!”

Taj’s eyes lit up. You nodded and gave his hand a squeeze as you both continue to walk.

Taj spoke out of curiosity.

“Y’know, Uncle Michael dances are very cool to look at. Can you do it?”

You laughed a bit and shook your head. “Who do you think I am? I cannot dance like him.”

“I thought he would teach you since you’re dating.” Taj emphasized on the word “dating.”

“Dating has nothing to do with him teaching me.”

Taj and you eventually came back around to where the rest of the family was at, and everyone seemed to finish eating. Michael walked towards you with a soft smile.

“You’ve been gone for a while with Taj.”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say he wanted to join me. Right Taj?” Taj nodded and gave Michael a huge smile.

“Okay, okay. I can tell he had a good time.”

Taj gave you a wave and Michael as he walked back to Tito. Michael laced his hands in yours, as he and you both said your goodbyes to the family and Katherine.

The car ride home, was just Michael being ridiculous.

“Y’know, if you can handle Taj then you could definitely handle being a mother someday.”

What in the world was Michael talking about. Taj is a nice kid, he isn’t a troublemaker.

“What are you talking about Mikey? Taj is a good kid. Don’t start with motherhood or something.”

“W-What?! I am stating the facts and obvious.”

“Mikey..” You groaned out.

“Look! Maybe someday..when we get married we can have a big family-“

“Big family?! Mikey!”

“I-I am just saying! A big family is a beautiful thing. The more kids the more laughter in the house.”

“Yeah! If you want it to be a zoo!”

“I am thrilled for it to be like a zoo!”

You sighed in defeat, you knew Michael would never shut up about this. Too stubborn of a man.

“How about you put a ring on me first before anything Mikey.” Okay?.!” You really did hope this was just a phase or baby fever, because this sounded insane.

Michael muttered under his breath. “Might as well do it now.”