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Living in “Normal People Valley” has always been very boring and ordinary. Life here has always made you feel like an extra in an old black and white film. 

It’s just been you and your father ever since mom left him 7 years ago. They had a little age gap and your mother just couldn't handle his judgemental and rude outlook on the world. So she waited until you were an adult to leave the house. She said “go to school, become something better than us and the people of this town, and then you can come move to the city with me if you’d like.” 

You were always the closest to her, especially being the only child in the house and your father being at work from 9-5. Then mom would work nights at the hospital an hour away to save up money to eventually leave the toxic household. 

At first it hurt but then you put yourself in her shoes and understood everything. You definitely felt her when she left because your father started having these angry outbursts and took it out on you. He wouldn’t hit you or anything ever but he would drink and lash out and say mean things. You don’t blame her for leaving at all.

Going to college three days a week was your solace and going to the library to study, reading books involving your major and even reading simple little fairytales. That was the real escape you had. With your parents never really being on the same page throughout your adolescence you yearned for a proper fairytale ending for yourself. 

Yes, those stories evolved as you grew older and older but the ending remained the same. All you wanted was for someone to sweep you off your feet, love and cherish you, and take you away from this stupid little town. 

You have fooled around with some boys in the past but they never gave you that feeling the princesses talked about in books or how your besties would talk to you about the guys they just met while talking to you on the phone. 

Today was a self-care day. You studied at a cafe, thrifted some new henleys and jeans for the fall season and some new books and old films. You got off the bus fifteen minutes ago and were a couple houses down from your own, it's 4:45 so your dad should be on his way home soon but as you walk more you notice his car is in the driveway already. “Weird…” You think to yourself. 

You take your keys out and unlock the door, drop your bags down and take your shoes off while locking the door. “Dad? I'm home, you got off early?” There’s shuffling coming from the kitchen so you walk over.

He was standing over the island and vigorously carving a big wooden stake. 

“Dad what the fuck?!” You run towards him while waving your arms around trying to get him out of the little trance he was in. “HELLLLOOOOOOO!”

He cursed under his breath and looked up at you, his beady eyes widening. “I was in the middle of somethin’ sweetheart,” his words slurring slightly.

You’re standing in front of him in absolute disbelief. “Are ya starring in a play or something? Why is there a huge wooden stake in the kitchen?! D-Did you even leave the house today?!” 

As you’re rambling on with more questions your father is washing wood dust off his hands by the sink. “Sit down, we need to have a talk,” completely ignoring any questions you’ve asked him. You sit down in one of the dining room chairs with a huff. 

“What is it this time dad?,” you say with a sigh. You kept thinking to yourself, “Oh he’s gonna blame you for something that happened during his campaign” or something along the lines of “I told ya, ya can’t call ya mom anymore.” Blah blah blah. That’s all it is these days. He sounded like a broken record.

Your dad sat down across from you with a tired sigh. “I needa ask ya somethin’ and ya need to tell the truth, ya hear?” You nodded slowly while giving a side eye.

“What do ya know about the guy who lives in the big spooky house at the edge of town?” He said with the most serious expression. You leaned back and gave it some thought. While buying groceries you’ve heard some of the moms saying their children have been playing near the huge home but nothing about the man who owns it… 

Since you graduated you started baking again, before college it was one of your favorite hobbies. Now since you’re home more, you bake a new recipe at least once a week you’ve been going door-door delivering sweets. Some of the kids tell you about the scary stories they tell when they play near the house at the edge of town but again never about the mystery man… Now you’re cursing yourself for being too lazy and not hand delivering cookies to the estate yourself. You could get some real answers to your own questions.

All in all though, you never really minded the creepy house. It was a wreck ever since you’ve lived here but it got fixed up by the time you were in your junior year of college. You admired the gothic architecture from afar, always too busy and very shy to go up close and examine it. It also felt very intrusive, like that’s someone’s home ya know?

“I haven’t heard anything about the man… why?” You lean forward. He looks around as if someone else could be listening but it’s just the two of you…

“He’s makin a bad impression on the youngins so… me and some othas are gonna march up there and make him leave.” He said again, with a straight face. You couldn’t help but scoff. God, he was so hyperfixated on mom leaving, so he took it out on you, started drinking, did some overtime at work, and now he’s obsessed with some guy that lives secluded from everybody else. Mind you, no one’s seen him except for the kids (maybe). 

“Dad thats fuckin ridiculous are you serious?” you said while standing up.  “Do you hear how crazy you sound? And who else is going to ‘march’ on over to someone’s house UNINVITED?” You continued to angrily ramble on while he pretended to listen. 

He stood up as well now and looked at me. “Kelly, Susie, Norman, Randall, Billy, Veronica and all their kids are comin and some others. We’re gonna meet up in townsquare in two days at 8 p.m. ya can come with us if ya care about the well bein of your home.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you gettin the children involved dad? This man hasn't done anythin wrong…” You started pacing back and forth. 

He leaned against the counter and sighed. “Ya just know when someone is gonna messup and the mothers are sayin their children won’t stop talkin’ about this guy, he calls himself the maestro. That just sounds like a freak that needs to be stopped. So be there or don’t I don’t care. Imma order takeout for dinner.” Then he just walked away without another word.

You put your head in your hands and just sighed. What is happening? It feels like today was the most you heard of this man and now everyone wants to interrupt his peace for… no reason whatsoever. 

It’s been hours since that conversation, you ate dinner, took a nice long shower, read some of your book and now you’re laid back in bed staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t shake this odd feeling since that discussion with your father. The maestro… I wonder if the man really calls himself that or maybe if it's just to entertain the kids? You hope so. It was at that moment you realized you’re becoming just as obsessed as these other losers. But it isn't in the weird and borderline prejudiced way they are. It’s more of a fascination, you don’t even know what he looks like but you didn’t care you felt this invisible pull towards the direction of the house. 

Sighing you turned over on your left side and finally closed your eyes and decided you would be joining those dimwitted fools on their soul quest in two days time. 

𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

The day is winding down. You just had dinner with a friend who’s been out of town and now you’re sitting at your vanity in your candlelit room. You don’t know why you’re stressing so much over what you want to wear to… potentially break into someone’s house. To be honest this all seems like bluff from your father you do not think he actually has it in him but also you don't really know now. 

Anyways you stand up now to look at the options you’ve laid out on your bed to wear out. You laugh to yourself because this feels like you’re planning an outfit for a date. 

Your eyes keep drifting to a top you recently purchased two days ago at a salvation army almost an hour away from town. That’s where all the good clothes are around here. “Fuck it…” you curse to yourself, if you’re going to potentially get arrested tonight with all the beige moms in your town you might as well look good.

This top you’re choosing is a black satin material with a deep purple lace trim with other little lace details and two thin straps to tie around the back. You decided to wear jeans and boots because the fall chill is stronger at night. You’re so nervous but you can’t let anyone, especially your father know that.

The clock in your room reads 7:50 p.m. so you try to shake off as many nerves as you can and finally go downstairs. 

You and your father walk silently side by side together to town square. You can already hear the chatter of the concerned community of everyone before you approach them. Rolling your eyes you decide not to interact or talk with any of them. Again you’re intrigued by the mystery man and his manor out of genuine interest not because you think he’s disgusting and weird.

The walk to the mansion was about ten minutes from town square. Your father led the group while you stayed in the middle, hanging and talking to the children because it seems only they have a true common sense of things. Some of the adults carried the homemade stakes, torches, and flashlights. You roll your eyes when one of the younger men asks if you want a torch, like what is this? It's 1996. Why are we traveling to a house with torches and stakes? 

The old dark mansion finally comes into view. You’ve never been so up close to it, only seeing glimpses from afar where it just looks like a really tall cardboard cutout. From here you can actually smell the wood the home was built from and maybe the scent of candles. 

As the group approaches the gate two of the kids speak up, “Why don’t we just leave him alone?” and “He hasn’t hurt anybody, can we just go?” You look at the two boys with sympathy as the sibling of one of the kids starts to bicker. 

 “He’s a weirdo, there’s no place in this town for weirdos.” Your dad whispers gruffly under his breath as if he had years of trauma caused by this one man he’s never even met face to face. You scoff for what feels like the one thousandth time tonight. Surely there’s a record for that.

Right when you were about to knock some sense into him to turn around, the gate creaks open by itself. It must’ve been the wind… right?

Everybody gasps quietly and Noman says “t-that’s aint a good sound…” Dad ignores him and starts walking onto the estate. As we walked to the front door those doors opened on their own as well which was odd but nobody was commenting on it. 

The double doors had stained glass windows with a beautiful cobweb design, you imagined what it would look like during the daytime with the sun out and rays of light pouring onto the dark brown wooden floor. 

The doors closing behind us took you out of your trance as we all looked around to see if someone closed them but… no one was there. One of the neighbors tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly there were multiple cracks of thunder and gushes of wind coming at us from every direction though all the doors and windows were shut.

After that died down your father walked forward slowly with a straight face, he didn't seem moved or scared at all with what just happened. We all hesitantly and slowly followed him down the hallway, boxes were stacked on one another with dust and spiderwebs decorating them. 

The open doors we were walking towards to continue our trespassing journey closed on their own so we opted to go to the other open doors to our left. 

These doors opened for us and were guarded by two statues of knights with armor. The doors revealed a beautiful ballroom with black and white checkered floors, the white detailing was being illuminated by the moonlight shining through the tall windows, along with at least four chandeliers and there was a big fireplace warming the area as we stepped inside. 

The ballroom was pretty much the size of one football field. It was one of the most majestic sights your eyes have ever seen.

Before we could even reach the middle of the vast room some double doors to our right had opened and a crow flew down from our left and into the very dark entrance that was just revealed to us. 

Whispers from everyone and more cracks of thunder were all that could be heard. Your father started walking towards the doors slowly. The tail end of a black cloak could be seen blending in with the shadows of the dark space. We all watched in shock, mothers were holding their children, and grown men cowered in fear. Your father remained emotionless and you couldn’t move your palm from your mouth. 

With a crack of thunder and lightning the shadowed space was lit up for a split second and a tall figure, in a black cloak and what seemed to be a skull face, was revealed. Your dad led the group to inch closer and closer. Once we were almost to the entrance he halted everyone and ventured two inches in alone, then BAM a streak of lightning lit up the room and revealed the same figure again. Everyone moved back while gasping and screaming, including your father, as the cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.

The mysterious figure revealed half of his face and you could see his smooth skin and the doe-like brown eyes you have ever seen. The black eyeliner adorning his waterline and eyelids fit so well it could’ve been natural. 

The children sighed in relief which took you out of your trance because some of your questions have been answered: the kids have seen the man who owns the manor.

He removed the skull mask completely, “did I scare ya?” you could finally move your hand away from your face and your jaw dropped just a tiny bit. This was the most beautiful man you have ever seen. 

Now, you are definitely deprived of any affection and touch from anyone of romantic or sexual interest. However no sense of depravity on your end can change the fact you needed him. Not even in a sexual way he just had the aura of an angel sky above.

Maybe it’s because the thunder suddenly stopped and the moonlight was casting an ethereal glow on the him. You snapped out of your trance again when the children started saying hello to him and you swear he tilted his head in your direction. Your posture suddenly becoming the straightest it’s ever been.

Then your father just had to speak, “well ya didn’t scare me, maybe ya scared them but ya didn’t scare me,” like oh my god!! nobody cares.

The gorgeous maestro nodded his head toward him and said, “well that’s too bad isn't it?” God, how can he get any more handsome? His perfect face scrunched up in this almost smug expression. You must be ovulating. 

“I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.” GULP. He walked to the side and your dad said, “there won’t be a next time.” While mr. good lookin placed the mask down, he smirked and replied with, “Oh Really, no next time huh?” He removed his cloak to reveal a white ruffled poet top that looked like it came from the victorian era. 

“We want ya outta town,” your dad hissed out. Well maybe he does but you certainly need him in town. He went on… “We have a nice normal town, normal people, normal kids, and we don' t need freaks like you tellin’ em ghost stories.” While your father said all those nasty things the maestro walked about the ballroom adjusting his sleeves. 

You tried to move to the back of the group to avoid being associated with your troll of a father. “So ya don’t believe in ghosts?” The maestro replied with. Some of the kids and adults said “I do!” and you nodded nonchalantly reeaaallll cool.

You coulda sworn he smirked and looked directly at you. Your mind is playing games on you. Susan, one of the mothers, points a finger at him. “You see what you’ve done? Aren’t you ashamed? Young people are impressionable.” You rolled your eyes. AGAIN.

“Show em the neat stuff ya showed us!” One of the kids said, then his little brother slapped him upside the head while his mother did it right back to him. Then there was a strong gust of wind that knocked her upside the head. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. She’s always had it comin. 

Everyone looked around with different expressions on their faces. Scared, confused, shocked and intrigued. You were very intrigued. 

“You’re weird, you’re strange, and I don't like you, and you’re scarin’ these kids. Livin up here all alone” Your dad speaks up again unfortunately.  

“I’m not alone,” the maestro says while nodding. “And you’re right I do like scarin’ people, yes. But it’s just for fun.” He smiles and for a second it warms your heart. 

“Don’t you kids enjoy when I do my little— ya know,” He twirls his hands around in the air. You look to see the children’s reactions and they’re all nodding and whispering “yes.” 

Your dad then whispers something you didn’t catch but the maestro did. “Back to the circus you freak,” He opened his mouth just a little and you could see the sadness in his eyes and it broke something within you. You had barely just met the man yet you were filled with so much sympathy for him already.

You pushed through the group to stand directly behind your father, you put a firm hand on his shoulder and told him to back off but he didn't listen and just continued on talking.

“And do yourself a favor… ok? Don’t force us to get rough with you, because we will if we have to.” This made you roll your eyes severely. Why would he even try that? 1. Your father is old as hell 2. He’s been drinking so often that he probably can’t throw a proper punch and 3. Take a look at this group. NO ONE is hurting a fly. 

Maybe except you but you’ll be throwin punches at your own flesh and blood. 

After your father boldly said that the others in the group collectively started backing away amd saying “pfft nooo we won’t” told ya so. 

The maestro finally spoke up again in that soft spoken voice of his. “You’re tryin to scare me aren’t you?” He says while giving your father a sideways glance. Then suddenly he un-scrunches his face and looks at him directly. You straighten your posture.

“I’ll tell ya what, we’ll play a game.” He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. “Anybody here likes games?” He looks to the group currently cowering away. “HELLLOOOO,” he claps his hands together twice. “Game time!” The kids' expressions all widened at the words “game time.” 

You laughed to yourself, this whole situation seems so ridiculous but you haven't had any thoughts on leaving. It’s like something is compelling you to stay. 

“The first person that gets scared has to leave,” he points to the double doors behind us. “How about that?” he smiles. One of the mothers jumps and says that she’ll leave no problem. 

Your dad says he doesn’t play games with freaks, at this point you block him out. The maestro starts the game off with making silly faces making you and the children laugh gleefully. Your father and some of the other parents thought this was incredibly stupid and that the host was not taking this seriously.

A game that mind you, none of them wanted to play. It’s not supposed to be serious but theyre too dumb to see the point.

After enough rude bickering from both parties the maestro’s tone suddenly gets deeper and more serious, “Is this scary?” He then does something so unexpected and unhuman. He pulls his mouth apart and a huge tongue lols out and then he separates his jaw. It reminded you of one of the scenes from your favorite movie, “Beetlejuice.”

As soon as he did that the entire group gasped and screamed in terror. He then backed up and started snapping his fingers and yelling which caused large gusts of wind to swarm the ballroom and the fire in the hearth roared and grew taller. 

“By the way… did I say I was alone?”

Then suddenly something insane happened… many gray figures with ragged clothing appeared out of thin air… 

“Ghosts,” you whispered. So much was happening at once, the world around you was spinning, all you could hear were screams, and you had a chill down your spine.

“Meet the family.” The maestro said with a smirk and his arms were wide open. 

 Sometime after all the ghosts appeared and the wind settled down the maestro and his family started doing this interesting dance and everyone couldn’t stop watching. Whether it be in disgust, shock, or intrigue no one could look away. Including you.

While your gaze was stuck on the maestro dancing so gracefully in front of your eyes you didn’t realize you drifted away from your father, now standing aside the group but not too far.  

You felt a light tap on your shoulder. Your breath hitched and you turned oh so slowly, and what you saw surprised you. It was the maestro… but if he was dancing in front of you how was he—

“Shh come with me dear…” and with a quiet snap of his fingers you were both transported to another area of the mansion. You gasped and shook your head.

“What in the— how did you— huh?!” You were an embarrassing mess of confusion. He just stood back and smirked. 

“I’m a ghost darling. What you saw down there is another version of me, if you were to touch it, it would disappear into thin air. The one standing before you is the real solid version. My name is Michael by the way.” 

He extended his arm to shake your hand. His hands were silky smooth. You told him your name. 

“So you’re… dead?” You hesitantly asked Michael. He sighs but his smirk never wavers as he looks you up and down. 

“Yes I am technically not alive anymore. I died more than one hundred years ago however I have unfinished business here in the mortal world. I still have yet to know what that business is. Which is why I try to befriend as many children as I can to make them laugh and really lust for life.” He said all of this with a  smile on his face and you couldn’t help but smile softly too. 

“Would you like a house tour m’lady?’ You didn’t think your smile could get any bigger, you bit your lip and nodded. “I’d love nothing more Michael.”

As Michael gently took your hand in his he dragged you down the candle lit hallway showing you each room. He had a room for almost everything. He had a room for trinkets, instruments, two separate dining rooms, a drawing room, a room with all of his cute exotic pets, and a library the size of two football fields.

He even told you how he died. Michael used to be in the theatre when he was younger, then as he got older he started writing and directing plays and musicals.

So one night while rehearsing a number for his upcoming musical there was a chandelier that had been put in the studio just a week prior, some of the light bulbs must’ve been screwed on incorrectly and while he was walking under it, multiple had popped off and his hair and majority of his scalp got burned off.

Unfortunately during the era this happened they couldn’t treat Michael properly for his injury so he survived for as long as could he before he unfortunately died in his sleep.

You guys paused the tour in the library. He told you to pick all the books that caught your eye. “Really?” he nodded and waved his hand. The library had the warmest lighting due to the generous amount of candles lit. 

While you picked through the endless bookshelves your mind was occupied with so many thoughts. Not about how the man in the room is technically dead but… how the entire time he walked you through his gorgeous home you guys had this remarkable spark. You clung onto every word he said to you, he would never break eye contact with you, and he looked at you as if you hung the moon and the stars.

You shake your head and decide you should actually read the backs of the books you're choosing because this can be the only chance in a lifetime. However as you bend down to look at the books on the lower shelves you feel a presence behind you. 

It’s him of course. The man who’s been plaguing your mind for days. “Find anything to your liking?” You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod. “Good, let's head to my study.”

He reaches for your free hand and helps you up from your crouched position. You blindly follow him out of the room with a dopey smile on your face. As he walked in front you could smell his cologne wafting at you or does he just naturally smell that good? Do ghosts have pheromones?

As you got lost in your thoughts you both halted in front of another pair of double doors. You thanked him as he held one of the doors open for you. This room was just as magnificent as the others. There was a small fireplace which made the space very warm and welcoming, an old-school record player was spinning some beautiful instrumental tunes, and when you turn around you see Michael leaning against the huge desk that adorns the middle of the study. 

 “So how are you liking my humble abode so far?” He asked you with a warm smile on his face. You sat down in the nearest chair facing Michael. “I love it! Gosh it’s so so beautiful I’ve always admired it from afar and that was just from the outside… I wanted to apologize again for the uh intrusion. My father and his crazy mind, I already told you about my mother and what that did to him but even I, as his daughter, can’t seem to forgive him for his actions…” 

You bowed your head in shame. You had ranted to Michael as soon as the tour started, wanting to reassure him you had no part in this idiocy of trying to kick out an innocent man from town you, had only come out of pure curiosity. He had hushed you quickly and reassured you that he understood completely. 

He moved one step forward to stand directly in front of you now. “You don’t need to say sorry to me again, do you understand me, love?” Michael used two of his fingers and brought them under your chin to gently guide your head upright again. “Ah, there’s those eyes,” he smirked at you and pinched your skin softly. “I like lookin in em’” 

Is he actually flirting with you? How late is it right now? You must be hallucinating, that's gotta be it. You’re the daughter of the asshole mayor, your father, of this stupid little town that hates Michael and Michael is flirting with you. 

You blush and almost turn away but you feel his fingers tighten slightly on your chin. “Michael…” He tilted his head with that teasing smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes?,” as if he didn’t know. 

“I— I dunno this just doesn’t seem real to me there’s no way you… you,” before you can even finish your thought he moves away from you. Sitting in the chair next to yours. 

“Dove, I have a confession.” This raises your eyebrows. Since you’ve met him tonight he's confessed plenty of things so what's so different this time? “... Okay what is it Michael?” You try to say without stuttering. 

“Well the thing is… I’ve been watching you for a long time now. I know that sounds weird I know but the children were talkin’ bout how the sweet girl who bakes them desserts lived with the mean old mayor so I turned invisible and… observed you.” He went quiet while just staring at you with his big brown almost black eyes. He blushed but kept talking. 

“It started with a pure and innocent fascination. I just wanted to know what you looked like, sounded like, what your room looked liked and how you baked, and what all your favorite things are. I thought we’d have a lot in common with ya know lovin the kids and wanting to make them happy,” he smiled and you did too but then his smile kinda dropped. “Then… the fascination wasn’t so pure… I— started just hanging out with you in your room… without you knowing obviously again just curious. I’d listen to you gossip to your friends and I’ve watched you try on new clothes a-and I've watched… you.” 

You gasped. He doesn’t mean— 

“Yes I do mean that. I- I am ashamed I’m a disgusting man, a pervert, but I couldn’t stop you- you just looked so beautiful— heavenly and I’m sorry… you can leave if you want. I won’t be mad, I just couldn’t keep talking with you and not tell you.”

Michael, the maestro the fucking ghost. Has seen you masturbate. Great, that's wonderful even. You felt a little violated but only for a split second, because the other part of you… some sick sick part of you really liked the fact that he watched you. 

Before coming to the manor and even meeting Michael for some reason you always had this feeling you’d be attached to him in some way. Maybe you felt his presence all this time. So you rose up from the chair.

“Hey…” You softly graze his shoulder making him turn towards you. One of his large hands his covering half of his face. “It’s okay, I-I’ll forgive you under one condition…” He removed his hand and looked into your eyes with hope. You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders and sat him back down onto the chair. 

Then you sat up on the huge desk behind you and spread your legs. 

“You watch me again… while I can see you.” You’re both blushing profusely. 

“I- you can’t be serious,” he stutters and you smirk. “Oh but I am. You weren’t afraid to watch me while I was touching myself all alone in bed, but now I want you to watch me again, now. Take it or leave it Michael.”

It was so amusing to watch how shy he got. He was so charismatic while entertaining the others downstairs and talking to you so confidently while giving you the house tour. But now he’s reduced to a little mess and you hope to see more of that real soon… if he agrees to this proposition of course. 

You were about to apologize and jump out of the window before you heard it. A tiny sound that came from under Michael’s palm, a whimper. At first you thought you brought him to tears but you examined him further—  

His face was a cute shade of pink and some sweat dribbled down his temple and dripped down his wickedly sharp jaw. 

“Aw what was that Michael? Hm? You want it that bad huh?” Truly you don’t know where this boldness came from. You aren’t a virgin but you definitely don't have enough under you belt to be acting this way. You guess Michael brings it out of you.

He nodded and removed his hand, his lip looked swollen from him biting it. “Mhm please I— 

I need it. I wanna see ya so bad in the light.” He rambled on. While he was preoccupied you slowly started undressing yourself.

By the time Michael was finished he looked back to you and sucked in a breath. You were only in your bra and panties now. The warm candle light accentuating all your features and making your skin look like it was glowing. Michael never became harder so fast in his mortal or ghost life. 

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out and you giggled. He eagerly stood in between your legs and right when he was about to touch your thighs you stopped him. Your sock clad foot on the center of his chest. 

“Hmm I said watch remember? Or did you forget already?” You said in a teasing tone with no real bite to it.

He whimpered oh so deliciously again and sat his ass down. You smiled and stifled a giggle. Suddenly you grow a little nervous. You didn’t think any of this though you just thought with your pussy. Which is embarrassingly wet. 

So instead of risking this becoming awkward you didn’t speak and just started sensually stroking your sides and right above the waistband of your panties. Thank god they’re not an ugly pair, just a simple black pair with a lace trim. 

You used one of your hands to slowly rub yourself through the damp material, biting your lip. Michael mirroring your expression. 

Whimpering you finally moved your panties to the side and you're met with crazy amounts of slick practically pouring out of your hole. You can hear Michael groaning in his palm and the sound of him wrestling his belt with the other hand. 

You’ve never been this far gone while masturbating alone, only doing it when you can’t sleep or you’re ovulating. Your middle and pointer finger curling into your pussy making you almost howl as you arch off the desk. 

Michael has always been a very very patient man but right now he was about to lose it. 

“D-Darling please please let me touch you— let me make you feel good baby I-I need it I need to please—” He rambled but he didn’t miss your little nod as you pulled your fingers out. Michael moved at the speed of light, pushing you up further on the desk so he can sit on top of it with you. He knelt beside you he took your two slicked fingers with his left hand and brought them up to his plump lips and sucked. He moaned borderline pornographically while sucking your cream off your fingers he took his right hand and immediately picked up where you left off and shoved two long fingers into you without warning.  

“Oh Michael— fuck! D-Don’t stop please,” you moaned and begged for him. “Mmm you taste better than I imagined honey,” Michael cooed in your ear as he took his other hand and massaged one of your tits. 

His fingers reached spots you could never hit no matter how much you tried. You arched up so much you thought you were gonna fly off the fucking desk. 

“Mmm baby m’so close—” Apparently that admission made Michael stop immediately. You would kill him right now if he weren’t already dead. Before you were about to curse him out for eternity he kissed you. You melted into the kiss and moaned as he sucked on your tongue softly. 

“Honey I really need ya to come in my mouth, is that alright?” You never nodded so fast.  Michael then ripped your panties off your body but you couldn’t care less at the damage that’s been done, just needing his mouth on you.

Michael melted between your legs, wasting absolutely zero time before burying his face into your cunt. He ate you out with sudden, sloppy confidence sucking your clit, dragging his tongue through your folds, and fucking you with his tongue until your legs were shaking violently. He worshiped you completely, swallowing every noise and whine you made like he was starving.

Your thighs locked around his head, pressing his face deeper into your folds as you practically rode his face. You were already so close to an orgasm before. He sucked your clit hard, tongue working frantically while you came undone, your head knocking gently against the desk. Michael groaned against you, the vibration pushing you through your orgasm as you clutched at his hair, chanting his name over and over again.

He continued and overstimulated him until you tugged on his hair hard, he finally pulled away. After Michael kissed all on your thighs and left some hickies there and on your stomach he finally laid back on the desk next to you panting.

“Wow, I think I’d be the first woman to ever say she came from a ghost.” You said still slightly out of breath. You can’t believe this just happened and to think that was only from his hands and mouth alone. Your pussy got wetter just thinking about what his dick would feel like— 

You look Michael up and down and when you expect to see a bulge in his pants you see a big dark stain on the front of his trousers. Before you can utter a teasing comment his way he grips your thigh and says— “Not a word. I’ve been deprived of this for quite some time so give me a minute and I’ll be hard for you in no time. I suggest you rest while you can because I won’t get tired out very easily.” 

Gulp.

a/n: YAYYA YOU READ MY FIRST COMPLETED FIC SINCE LAST YEAR ILY... speaking of I'd like to apologize if you've been following me for a long time or you've asked to be tagged in an upcoming project/fic and I edged you every single time bc im a lazy pos IM SO SORRY DONT HATE MEEEE IM JUST A GIRL IN COLLEGE. but i truly love each and every single one of you and i hope to write more this summer and just more in general i just need to stop putting higher expectations on myself.

—sweetgirl out