#mj ff

　WHEN MICHAEL CAST one last glance at the clock perched above the fireplace, he let out a tired sigh. The television screen was the only source of light in the room, its images throwing muted colours onto the singer’s exhausted face.

　It was almost three o’clock in the morning.

　Michael was no stranger to sleepless nights ━ those endless nights when he would sometimes find himself swamped with work. Yet tonight, it wasn’t that he lacked the desire to sleep. For once, he was utterly exhausted.

　But you still hadn’t come home, so there was no way in hell he was going to go to bed without you.

　His fingertips rolled over his thighs in a rhythm meant to be comforting and patient. He had been wearing his checked pyjama bottoms and his old white t-shirt ever since you had left the house a good six hours earlier.

　Michael was slumped on the sofa, a plate of ice cream abandoned on the coffee table, his eyes darting back and forth between Some Like It Hot and the clock, which, over the course of those six long hours, had become his worst enemy.

　He felt as though every tick-tock was actually mocking him, a way for it to remind him that you still weren’t there and that, despite the hours ticking by, time was passing oh so slowly.

　Michael had hesitated over whether to hurl the remote control at it or throw it into the fire. He wanted to put a stop to the taunts, but something told him that you wouldn’t appreciate him destroying your Canetti, which you had paid a small fortune for to fill that wall that had seemed too bare to you.

　He regretted not having invested in a dartboard instead…

　The singer shot another glare at his arch-enemy and, realising that only two minutes had passed, threw his head back, his curls falling limp against the velvet sofa. His stomach seemed to knot up again, and he found his lip caught between his front teeth.

　You should have been home at least a good fifteen minutes ago. Not that Michael was keeping tabs on you or expecting you to come home at a set time ━ no, you were perfectly entitled to have fun, he had complete faith in you ━ but your friend had phoned him from the bar where you were partying to let him know you were on your way home…

　And that had been twenty minutes ago.

　Michael liked to tell himself that he wasn’t the sort of boyfriend who made his girlfriend feel as if she were in prison with him but ━ damn ━ right at that moment he regretted it.

　He should have at least sent Bill.

　That was what his mind kept repeating over and over. He should have asked him to come and pick you up to make sure you got home safely, but your friend had told him that you had slipped away in a taxi, and it had been too late to send anyone to fetch you.

　Michael decided to wait another three short minutes before phoning Bill to ask him to come and pick him up so they could search the whole state for you.

　If anything happened to you, it would kill him. You had been his whole world ever since he first met you a few years ago. Love at first sight, Michael had told you, and ever since then, he had been certain that if you looked up love in the dictionary, you would find your name in the definition.

　You were going to walk through that door safe and sound, Michael was convinced of it; it couldn’t end like this. He took a twentieth deep breath, his foot unconsciously swaying from side to side on the coffee table.

　Where the hell were you?

　The metallic jingle of keys was enough to dispel the fear that was beginning to gnaw at him in the darkness of the living room.

　Michael sprang to his feet and raced across the room, his long legs giving him the edge. His hands were trembling slightly as he grabbed the door handle and flung the door open. The wood banged against the wall; there would surely be a mark, but he didn’t care.

　You had finally made it home safe and sound.

　"Oh, God thank you," he whispered. "I was getting worried sick, baby…"

　You had to cling to the door handle to stop yourself from falling. Your purse had slipped off your shoulder and was now dangling from your wrist, mirroring the pair of heels you were holding in your other hand. Your eyes were half-lidded, your lipstick had smudged and your eyeliner had run slightly at the corners of your eyes. You looked like a mess.

　"’m fi… ne…" you hiccuped.

　"Girl, you’re not fine," Michael chuckled, walking toward you. "Come here, let me help you get to bed━"

　You flinched back, almost falling to the ground as you pressed yourself flat against the door.

　"Noooooo!" you shouted suddenly. "Back… off! I have… a boyfriend, mis… mister. So… shoo!"

　Michael blinked. He let his arms fall to his sides, his eyebrows gradually furrowing. He glanced behind him, as if to check that there was no one else there whom you might be addressing, before turning his gaze back to you, looking completely confused.

　"You… you what now?"

　"A boyfriend!" you declared, trying to stand up straighter. "He’s tall and… handsome and str… ong… and he will… beat your ass… if you get too close to… me."

　If you hadn’t been so heavily intoxicated, Michael would probably have burst out laughing at the way you were talking. He wasn’t sure how you would react if he made fun of your hiccups.

　He opened his mouth to try to talk some sense into you, but when he saw how close you were to collapsing to the floor, he decided to take a different approach instead.

　"Oh, you got a man, huh?" he asked, taking a step closer to catch you just in case ━ he needed to get you to bed as soon as possible. "That’s a real shame, sweetheart. What’s he like, this boyfriend of yours?"

　You beamed at the question, swaying lightly.

　"The best… sings to… to me all the time…"

　"Does he now?" Michael mused, taking another step. "And where’s that man of yours now, mmm?"

　You face fell into a pout.

　"Busy… works too much…" you answered sadly. "… but if you try anything he’ll ki… ck you!"

　His amusement gave way to a sense of guilt. Michael knew he was working incredibly hard and was rarely at home these days. He had probably never realised just how much it might be affecting you until tonight, as he saw your eyes fill with tears. Michael panicked for a moment. He didn’t want to make you cry ━ he hated seeing you sad ━ so he stepped closer and placed a hand on your forearm.

　"Alright. I hear you, I hear you. I’m not trying to steal you, I promise. I’m just here to get you to bed safely. Your man would want you safe, right?"

　You looked at him suspiciously for a moment. His black hair curled around his face, with a stray lock resting against his forehead. He was looking at you with four large brown eyes that seemed strangely familiar to you. Surely, that wasn’t normal.

　"You know… you kinda look like him… like, a little bit…"

　"Oh yeah?"

　"Yeah…" you nodded, stepping closer. "… Same eyes… same… same smile…" you squinted harder. "… but my man is prettier… like way prettier… no offense…"

　Michael let out a laugh.

　"None taken. I’m sure he is, baby," he was smiling now. "Come on, pretty girl, let's get you to bed. I promise, I'm just helping, that's all."

　You let him guide you, but you kept your distance, your body tense. He led you to the hallway, his hands firm but gentle around your waist. You were mumbling things, your head rolling down to the side opposite his neck. The guy smelled of sandalwood and musk just like your boyfriend and it was enough to send you spiralling.

　"Miss him sooo much… like so, so much… you know how much?"

　"I’ve a feeling you’re about to tell me," he murmured, walking you around a corner.

　"He has those eyes… big, brown, doe eyes that just… he looks like Bambi, you know?"

　Michael flashed you a smile.

　"From Disney?"

　"Oh, yeah… but Mike’s waay cuter…" you missed a step. "Love kissing his nose too... so perfect... and his hair… so soft… he likes when I… run my fingers through it… he even purrs."

　"I do not purr," he chuckled sheepishly.

　"’course you don’t… you don’t have nice hair like him…"

　"Right, right."

　"... And his hands... things he does with his hands and his mouth, oh━"

　"Okay! Okay, wow," Michael cut you in, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. "That's enough detail, don't you think, sweetheart?"

　"You're just jealous..." you hiccuped. "He's the best... so sweet to me... makes me breakfast in bed and lea... ves notes for me when he goes to wo... rk... and dances with me in the kit... chen..." you let out a lovesick sigh. "Just love him sooo much..."

　He gently eased you down onto the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you. Michael was looking at you with such a shy smile that he almost felt childish about it. No one had ever spoken of him as kindly and affectionately as you had.

　He knew you loved him, even though you weren’t the sort to say it every day. In fact, you hardly ever said it, but he knew. It was written in all the small things you would do like giving him small things that made you think about him for no reasons at all or you staying up all night just to have a chance to see him after a long day at work.

　"You really love that guy, huh?" he murmured, taking off your shoes delicately.

　"With my whooole heart..." you patted your chest clumsily.

　"He's very lucky to have you."

　"’m luckier…" you hiccuped once more.

　You peered down at him, your head tilted at an angle that was giving you a double chin. You could see white teeth flashing at you. Your eyes squinted, trying to focus on his face in the dim light.

　"You look... familiar..."

　"Do I?"

　"Yeah... you kinda look like my Mi... ke... if i close one eye..." you squint harder. "... or both..."

　Michael laughed at you, putting your shoes aside.

　"Must be the lighting..." he bit his lips, trying to hide his giddiness. "Handsome guy?"

　"Very..." you nodded eagerly. "... most handsomest of handsome perfectsome man..."

　"Girl, that sentence makes no sense!" he threw his head back.

　You simply hummed and sank into the mattress, your eyes already fluttering closed.

　That was the moment Michael chose to get to his feet. He stood there for a moment, watching your chest rise and fall beneath your dress, which looked far too uncomfortable to sleep in. He would try to take it off you later, though Michael doubted you would let him in your current state. He was about to walk into the bathroom when he felt a hand grip his wrist.

　He looked down at you.

　"Tell him ‘m home... safe, 'kay? He gets so... worried when I go out... Don't want him to be mad..." you mumbled sleepily.

　"Don't worry, baby, he's not mad at all," Michael reassured you, sitting on the bed next to you, the back of his fingers caressing your cheek lovingly. "He could never be mad at you."

　"I know... he likes when I've fun... but... don't want to worry him..."

　"It's okay, he's not worried anymore, sweetheart, you can sleep," he cooed, his hand never leaving your face.

　For a moment, you seemed satisfied with his words, welcoming Morpheus gladly, but the very next second a wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows and your eyes flew open, your pupils almost swallowing your irises.

　"You need to… back off... Told you I had a man... I'll tell him to... kick you..."

　Michael laughed, pulling his hand away from your warm skin. He raised both hands in a gesture of peace.

　"Alright, alright. I don't want any trouble."

　He got to his feet and continued on his way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, as he reached for some cotton pads to remove your make-up, Michael looked at himself for a moment. His eyes scanned his face carefully and lingered on his nose. You had called it perfect, and it was true that you loved kissing him in that exact spot. Yet he was often embarrassed when you did it... But now that he had heard your drunken words, Michael couldn’t help thinking that perhaps... you were right.

At 10, you remember watching a TV show and not understanding why your big sister told you to leave the room when the two characters hid in a room alone. Or every time she’d make you leave her room you wouldn’t understand why she got so angry after entering her room. 

There’s so many things you don’t have an explanation for, even today. So many things that make you stay up at night or write about, wondering why it is the way it is. It’s things that make you forget everything around you in the moment, for example in class, and think about something else. 

One of them is falling in love with your best friend. You don’t really remember when the first time was that you thought about her in a not-so-platonic way. In a way you’re only supposed to see your lover. Your eyes take a heart form every time she walks past you, or even just looking your way. You’re sure whoever is watching from the outside when Mj is in your presence, is aware of your big and fat crush (you could call it love, you think). It’s gotten to the point where you hope your teacher partners you up with her when there’s a partner or group assignment. Even if you know that it’s unlikely, considering teachers don’t like to put best friends as partners or into groups, there's always hope to spend more time with her, right? 

That’s one of those things you can’t really explain to yourself.

Things that distract you so much you don’t even realize somebody is calling for you. 

“Y/n! I’ve been calling you for so long!” Betty snaps her fingers in front of your face, rolling her eyes. You snap out of your thoughts, flinching at the small distance between her fingers and your face. She almost hit you! 

“What? Where’s everyone else?” You look around surprised, seeing that only you, the blonde girl and another student talking to the teacher are in the room. The young girl stands up and starts packing her stuff, sighing. 

“Class has ended already, but you were staring out the window for so long so I got worried you died.” You snort at her comment, standing up too and putting your backpack over your back. 

“I was just…thinking about something,” you explain to her and leave the classroom, your friend walking following behind. 

“Yeah, something or someone,” she teases, catching up to you with a smirk adorning her face. 

“What? I was just thinking about what I’ll do later today!” You lie, feeling the heat creep up your face at being caught daydreaming about someone. Truth is, Betty isn’t dumb. She notices all the times you spent your classes staring out the window or at a certain girl, not really paying attention to your teacher or students talking. The blonde girl is an amazing friend, always encouraging you to confess your feelings to your mutual friend and see how it goes. She’s always full of positive vibes with a smile on her face, trying to help you. But it does get annoying sometimes when the only thing you can think about is how you’d get rejected, while she’s standing next to you telling you to just do it. 

“Come on, Y/n, when do you plan on telling her? I’m sure you won’t get rejected anyway. The way she looks at you tells me there’s no chance for her to do so,” she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. You turn your head to her slowly, hope filling you. 

“What do you mean? I’ve never caught her looking at me,” you say unbothered. Maybe trying to seem chill and unbothered will get her to say more. 

“Oh, you know, she’s also my friend and tells me things.” Betty shrugs and winks at you, coming to a stop next to her locker. 

“Betty, you can’t just say that and not expect me to demand more!” You frown and pout at her, adjusting the straps of your backpack. The girl shrugs and turns her back to you, getting her book for the next period out. 

“Hi, girls!” You gasp at the hand colliding with your shoulder, making you look at the pretty face of your friend greeting you. 

“Mj!” You smile and give her a hug, not having seen her through the whole weekend. Your eyes widen after remembering what your conversation with Betty consisted of, wondering if Mj heard any part of it. 

“I’m so happy right now. Just had my last exam,” Mj announces, doing a motion of wiping her sweat off her forehead. You chuckle and pat her shoulder, nodding. 

“That 's good. I still have math on thursday. Then I’ll be free, too.” Mj frowns and looks at you. 

“I thought that was already done last week?” She asks and tilts her head. 

You gulp, looking at her through wide eyes. The way she is looking at you right now has you biting your lip to hide a  smile. She looks so cute. 

“Uhm, yeah but the teacher was sick so we had a free period,” you explain and try to distract yourself with the sleeves of your jacket, playing with them. 

“Oh, that 's bad. You know, if you want to, we can study together. I can help!” She expresses happiness. You shake your head quickly, not knowing how you’d survive studying alone with your crush. 

“Oh, no no there’s no need to! I don’t want to annoy you more. Betty and I can lea-” Before you can finish responding, said girl turns around quickly and shuts her locker with a loud bang, startling you and Mj. 

“I forgot to tell you, but I can’t this week! My, uhm, my mom said we had this appointment we have to go to. And on Wednesday I have chore practice, yeah.” She nods, looking at you with a raised brow. You purse your lips. Something is telling you she is lying. 

“That 's perfect! Does tomorrow seem good to you? Then you can ask me the questions and if you still need help, you have Wednesday to study,” she says and turns all her attention to you. 

You nod quickly, trying to not seem too intimidated by her gaze and knowing that she has no problem with meeting you alone. You, on the other hand, can already feel your heart beating out of your chest so loud you’re sure if it was quiet in this hall, she’d be able to hear it too and your love for her would be exposed. 

You say goodbye to your two friends after the bell rings and make your way to your next and last class, thankful that only two hours separate you from laying in your comfortable bed and drowning in imaginary scenarios of what could happen between you and Mj tomorrow, if you happen to confess to her. 

The next day comes quickly, being woken up by the shrill sound of your alarm clock and groaning as you try to tune out the sound, slapping your pillow over your head and ignoring it. 

You click snooze, getting up from your bed with a loud sigh and getting ready for school, starting in the bathroom. You make sure to collect all the stuff you’d need for math studying, in case Mj decides to study right after school. If it was anyone else, you’d definitely get pissed at them wanting to study with you right after school. Like, we just had classes and you want to give me another one? No. But since it’s her, you could at least look forward to spending time with her alone. 

Your two friends greet you in class, Betty giving you a hug while Mj just nods at you, smiling, head buried in a book (like any other time, actually). You smile back at her, sitting down at your desk. 

“Do you already know what you need help with? I understand most of the stuff, so I don’t think we’ll have big problems trying to make your head understand.`` She smiles and closes the book, using her phone as a bookmark. 

“I looked at everything yesterday and highlighted what I needed for the exam, so I think I'm prepared for whatever.” You nod slowly, taking your stuff for English out of your backpack. The teacher walks into class, making all students stop talking and sit at their desks quietly. 

After classes, you follow Mj into the library and sit down at an empty table, silently thanking whoever decided to give the other students longer classes so you could sit alone with her at a table and not be interrupted by annoying students being too loud there. 

You watch her taking out her stuff, putting it on the table and opening her math book to look at a page that resembles everything coming into your exam on thursday. You watch her take out a pencil and an empty sheet to write on, already writing the date of today into an empty corner. Her eyes meet yours as she looks up. 

“Do you want to stare at me for the whole study lesson or also learn something?” She raises her eyebrows, smirking. You feel the heat creep up your neck and try to cover up your embarrassment with a cough, looking away. 

“What? I- I was just thinking about the questions I had for you,” you lie and shrug. She doesn’t let go. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think your questions will appear by staring at me the whole time,” she says, indicating that she doesn’t believe your explanation. 

“Can we just start,” you mumble and roll your eyes, ignoring the smirk grazing her face as she sighs and waits for you to get everything out that you need and start asking questions. 

After an awful (studying was the awful part. Being able to sit with her in this library was not the awful part) two hours of burning your brain with numbers and formulas you’re sure you wouldn’t ever need, the torture is done and you’re packing your things with Mj. 

“Thank you for using your time to study with me. I’m sure you probably had something else to do,” you thank her as you’re walking side by side out of the school building, fiddling with your fingers and trying to set your eyes on anything but her own. She’s looking at you, you can feel it. 

“Nah, I would’ve probably spent my time just staring and scrolling through my phone, anyway. This wasn’t wasting time either.” She says and shrugs. She pulls on the straps of her backpack, chewing on her bottom lip. Is she nervous? You look away shyly. 

“You know Y/n, I like spending time with you.” Your face light up at her statement. 

“I like it, too! It makes me feel at ease when we’re hanging out, all three,” you agree with her and frown when she comes to a halt next to you, sighing. 

“I meant us two alone, not with Betty. Like, when we’re doing things, y’know,” she trails off, her eyes moving to focus on something. You frown confused, already having an idea where this could be heading but a small part in you is still telling you it won’t be what you hope for. 

“What do you mean?” 

She shrugs. “Do you think that I don’t notice all the times you’d stare at me and look so out of it?” Now this is like a slap right in your face. 

Never would you have thought the girl herself, Mj, would take notice of your feelings for her and the daydreams plaguing your mind during class in which she is also a part of. Now you have two options; lie and say no, you don’t know, or admitting to everything, running away and changing your name. 

Your heart is beating out of your chest, feeling the thumping even in your ears and hoping she wouldn’t be able to hear it. Can she feel the heat radiating from you? You don’t know, but you’re sure flames could appear next to your face and smoke coming off your head any moment by the heat that you’re feeling on your face right now. It’s not everyday that your crush, the person you love, notices the stares you give her and how most of the time all you think about is her. So why did it have to be you that has to go through this embarrassment? 

“Y/n? See, you’re doing it again! You’re staring at me and not responding!” She huffs, seeming annoyed. You clench your jaw, nervously. Is she angry that you like her? It just keeps getting worse,you mentally slap yourself to wake up. 

“I’m not doing anything!” You protest, still confused at everything. 

“What I’m talking about is that if you’re so into me, why did you never plan on making a move?” She expresses annoyance. You open your mouth to respond to her but nothing comes out. Too speechless to even respond to her. 

Excuse me?

“What do you mean? You knew all this time?!” You ask shocked, your mind lagging at the fact that she knew all this time along of your feelings but didn’t make a move and now is asking why you didn’t make a move. 

“So you knew that I had feelings for you but never made a move and expected me to do the first step, when it was you who should’ve done it if you knew all this time?” You scoff. 

“Well, if you say it like that,” she shrugs shyly, pressing her lips into a thin line. 

“What do you mean? I’ve been stressed all of this time, wondering if we’ll even stay friends if I confessed only for me to find out now you had feelings, too?” You’re about to add something else when her next statement knocks the wind out of you. 

“I don’t think we can stay friends after this,” she breathes out, gazing into your eyes with a grin plastered on her face. How could she smile in this situation?

“What-” 

“I think it needs to be more than that,” she whispers, stepping closer to you and holding her hand out to grasp yours, pulling you closer. You look at her through wide eyes, no words coming out of your lips and too shocked to talk. 

“Did you really expect me to say we can’t be friends or anything anymore, after confessing?” She tilts her head, face moving closer to you. You gulp at the small distance between you two, butterflies exploding in your stomach when you feel her breath fanning over your face, noses touching. 

Your eyes flutter closed when you notice her moving closer, praying this isn’t some kind of dream in your head and that everything is real. Your prayer is answered when you feel her lips pressed into yours, moving slowly and savoring the moment. This feels way too real to be only a dream. Unless it’s a lucid dream, nothing could ruin this moment anymore. 

Your head feels dizzy and your whole body feels as if it was standing on a cloud, threatening 

to fall any moment in case all of this stops, after she pulls away. There’s a red tint painting her cheeks and you can’t hide the proud grin adorning your face at the realization that the reason for it is the kiss you two just shared. 

“Don’t laugh! You should be happy I said something, else you would’ve gone home wondering why you didn’t do anything,” she argues. You gasp, ready to protest but then shut up and roll your eyes at her after the thought of her being right sinks in. 

“Just shut up. I want to go home.” You joke and turn around, wanting to leave. You shriek with wide eyes when you’re pulled back by her hand, falling into her chest. 

“Not before you give me another kiss!” She laughs and leans in. 

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MICHAEL WAS PACING, his loafers almost leaving marks on the carpet. His jaw was clenched, his fingertips rubbing against one another instinctively. He was trying to remain calm, professional and patient, but it was almost impossible.

How could he keep his cool when his girlfriend had been filming a sex scene with another man?

He had tried to put on a brave face, thinking he would not feel a thing. After all ━ acting was your job, and Michael understood that perfectly well. However, there was a difference between understanding and seeing. And when he had watched your co-star gripping your breast a little too tightly for his liking, or how his eyes seemed to light up every time your gazes met... Michael had not been able to stop himself from interrupting the shoot.

Multiple times.

A cough there, a suggestion there... Luckily, you were very well-liked by the film crew and your reputation was second to none, otherwise, you were convinced they would have fired you. You had insisted that Michael come along, an idea you thought would help him understand that this sort of scene was just… mechanical, cold, awkward, and terribly embarrassing to do. You had wanted to reassure him, but all he had seen was a man with the woman he loved. 

Now, in your dressing room, sitting on the small armchair with your legs crossed and your jaw clenched, you were tapping your foot impatiently. Your blood was boiling, and you had to bite your lower lip several times to stop yourself from saying things you might regret.

You had not spoken a single word to him since the scene had finished. There were still a few reshoots to do before you could leave and this time you had insisted that Michael stay locked in your trailer. There was no way you were going to let him humiliate you in front of everyone again! 

The sound of his shoes thudding against the floor made your headache worse. You downed the last of the vodka in your glass in one go. 

"Are you done?" you gritted through your teeth.

Michael kept pacing around the trailer without even sparing you a glance. You rolled your eyes at him, putting the glass down on the small coffee table. Your dressing gown slipped slightly off your shoulder as you stood up, revealing the bare skin of your breast. You would be back on the set in twenty minutes.

"I asked you a question," you spoke once more, cupping his chin between your fingers. "When I ask a question, I like to be given an answer."

You were more than just annoyed ━ your boyfriend had just ruined a day’s work and he had the nerve to ignore you! You dug your nails lightly into his skin, your crimson polish almost disappearing.

In the blink of an eye, his large brown eyes met yours. They were so big and hurt that you almost felt guilty. Michael was not a manipulator, but sometimes, you felt like he was a professional gaslighter with the way he could melt your anger into remorse and softness. You eased off the pressure on his chin slightly.

"No," was the only word he pronounced.

"No?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "That’s all you’ve got to say after you’ve just embarrassed me in front of my director and crew?"

Michael turned his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"’Said I was sorry," he mumbled.

"Huh-huh, that’s not what I heard. You said no, not sorry," you corrected, turning his face back to yours so he would look at you. "You never apologised for embarrassing me in front of everyone. In fact ━ all you did was act like you were the one who got wronged!"

"Didn’t I?" Michael scoffed. "Weren’t you… with him? Right in front of me?"

Your expression changed completely, an amused grin replacing your previous frown.

"You mean… him just doing his job? Because that’s what it was, Michael ━ a fucking job!"

"Well, you have to go tell him that, 'cause he sure seems to have forgotten it was just a job!" he retorted.

"You're ridiculous," you scoffed.

The pressure on his chin completely disappeared as you took your hand away. You could not believe what you were hearing. Of course, you had known that Michael was jealous ━ he literally told you so, but you had thought... once he would see... You sighed, shaking your head.

"I shouldn't have asked you to come," you spoke after a few seconds and your voice was smaller than you had wanted. "It was a mistake."

Michael looked up at you, suddenly frightened. This time, it was he who approached you, raising his hand to rest it gently against your cheek. 

"Baby..."

"I don't want to hear it, Michael," you put some distance between you two.

The space between you bothered him even more, and his old demons seemed to be returning. He was afraid ━ afraid of losing you, afraid that you might leave him for someone else. The fact that you refused to let him touch you almost made him want to cry. 

"Baby," Michael tried again, stepping forward.

You stepped back.

"I said I don't want to hear it!"

"Please. Just... Just let me explain."

"Explain what?! Explain how you managed to turn my job into a personal attack on you? Explain how you made my director question whether I'm professional enough to handle a scene? Explain how you made me feel like I have to choose between my career and you?" you exploded, letting your anger out. "I would have never done this to you…"

You hated the way your voice had cracked on the last word. The truth had come out ━ it did not matter that you knew Michael was not selfish and was the most supportive boyfriend ever ━ he could never realise that his behaviour was having a negative impact on your own career. For him, it was simple: he was a man and the world belonged to him. But for you… things were different. You could throw a jealous tantrum at him and his team would see you as a madwoman and they would move on… But if Michael did the same? You would become the problem, the woman who could not handle her partner…

And if you could not handle him ━ could you even handle your job? 

He could never understand that.

"That's not what I was trying to do," Michael's answer came.

"Then what were you trying to do? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you decided to act like a child and make it all about you."

He shook his head.

"That's not fair."

"Fair? You want to talk about fair? I asked you to come here because I thought it would help! I thought if you saw how awkward those scenes actually are, you'd stop worrying. I wanted you to see that it means nothing! That he means nothing! That the only person I think about when I'm doing those scenes is you and how I can't wait to get home to you!"

Why were men such complete idiots? They never saw all the effort we went to for them, all the sacrifices! Yet when it came to taking offence at a scene lasting not even a minute and a half in a film lasting nearly three hours about a drug cartel, in which the man succumbs to every vice ━ well, then they saw everything!

Yet Michael was one of those men who really noticed. He would always compliment your hairstyle when you came back from the hairdresser’s, even without you having told him. He would always give you flowers and countless gifts that reminded him of you. When you were suffering from period pain, Michael would even go out and buy all your favourite sweets, cancel a session at the studio, and spend the rest of his time looking after you. A hot water bottle, a massage ━ he would even go so far as to feed you.

And you returned his love time and again.

So why the hell did he doubt you in front of other men?

"I didn't━I didn't know you were thinking about me..."

"Of course I was thinking about you!" you shouted. "I'm always thinking about you, that’s the problem. I spend so much time trying to make you feel secure that I forget to take care of myself. And now━" you gestured vaguely at the door. "Now I have to go back out there and pretend like my boyfriend didn't just humiliate me in front of everyone I work with."

You could see the guilt on his face in the way he held his hand behind his neck, his lower lip sucked between his teeth. 

"Baby, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to━I wasn't trying to━"

"I know you weren't trying to," you cut him off, softer now. "You don't mean to hurt me. You just do. And then you look at me with those big eyes and I'm supposed to forgive you. And I do, Michael, I always do. But━" your voice dropped to barely a whisper. "━it's exhausting."

He stood there for a moment, staring at you, frozen by your words. He seemed to be hesitating over what to say, but no sound came out. His full lips parted, then closed again. You noticed that his hands were shaking too, and Michael had to tuck them into his jeans pockets to hide it.

"So… so this is it, huh?" he said at last in a whisper. "You’re… you’re breaking up with me?"

"What?!"

Oh, how you hated when your boyfriend would put words into your mouth. Michael was always so insecure, always imagining the worst while also being so eager to be comforted.

"And where the hell did you hear me say this?"

He paused.

"I… I don’t know… You… You said you were exhausted so I thought…"

"Well, obviously, you thought wrong," you rolled your eyes.

A shy smile instantly wiped the dejected look off Michael’s face. He took his hands out of his pockets, took a step toward you, and then held out an arm to touch you.

You dodged him, and his smile faded just as his arm dropped.

"It’s not because I won’t break up with you that it means you are forgiven, Michael," you informed him, turning your back to him. "You will have to do better than that."

You heard him exhale behind you. You completely had him at your mercy and this thought alone was enough to make you shiver. You felt him walking toward you, stopping close enough so you could feel his breath. Michael did not try to touch you again. Smart man.

"Then tell me what you want me to do… and I’ll do it. Anything. I swear."

You finally turned to face him.

"Anything?" you repeated, one eyebrow raised.

"Anything, baby. You tell me," he nodded frantically.

You remained silent before going back to sit on the sofa. Your dressing gown opened a little wider as you crossed your legs, offering a brief glimpse of your slightly damp lips against the leather. His mouth opened slightly at the sight of the thing he loved to worship most of all. A groan escaped from his throat.

"Kneel."

You did not even have time to blink before Michael had already dropped to his knees with a thud. He placed both hands flat on his thighs, leaving a damp mark on the jeans. He never took his eyes off you ━ he did not even dare to blink or breathe too heavily for fear that you might change your mind.

"Someone’s eager," you whispered, pleased. "You want to make this right, mmm?"

"Yes," Michael nodded.

You glanced at the clock to check you had enough time for your plan. Fifteen minutes left. That was more than enough to edge him several times and make you come at least three times… maybe even four, given how hungry he looked.

"You will do as I say? No interruptions?" he agreed once more. "Mm. Strip."

Michael was so predictable. You saw him hesitate for a nanosecond, a twitch running through his fingers as they tried to move. You raised an eyebrow, and that was the trigger.

In the blink of an eye, his hands rushed to his red shirt, clumsily unbuttoning it. After several seconds of fumbling, the fabric parted to reveal his rich brown chest, where you could see a few lighter patches dotted across it.

You caught your breath slightly.

You never ceased to be in awe of his body every time he revealed himself to you. You still remembered the first time Michael had done so, how nervous and self-conscious he had been. He really had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed of.

Michael resembled the statues found in Greek temples ━ those Gods carved from marble. If you had been a sculptor, you would undoubtedly have carved his likeness in stone and erected a temple in his honour.

You let out a small sigh to let him know you were appreciating the view.

His large, graceful and slender hands, with which he had written masterpieces, then moved toward his leather belt as he stood up. His movements were more confident now ━ it always took him a moment to settle in before his shyness evaporated in a whirlwind of desire and confidence. Him feeling loved and desired by you always made him feel that way.

Michael pulled down his trousers without even looking at what he was doing, his big, doe-like eyes watching every expression on your face.

Your gaze swept over his body without the slightest hesitation, following an irregular line of his vitiligo. One eyebrow rose as a patch disappeared beneath his boxer. You looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to remove the last barrier.

He licked his lips for a moment, his lower lip remaining trapped beneath the weight of his front teeth.

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics ━ Michael loved to give in to your every wish, but he had that ever-present rebellious streak that loved to tease you a little, no matter whether he was already in trouble.

"The longer you take, the less time I’ll have to take care of you," you reminded him in a commanding tone.

A smile betrayed his pouting. Without further ado, he gently pulled down his boxer ━ just the way you liked it ━ and let them fall to his feet before following them to his knees once more.

Without realising it, you parted your thighs at the sight of his hard member, already pointing skywards. It was so swollen that fluid was already oozing from it. You had to bite your lips agonisingly hard to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

You reluctantly looked away, searching for his eyes so you could refocus on your task. Goodness, Michael must surely have known the effect he had on you! You could feel your own body responding to the sight of him, your clitoris craving stimulation. You clenched around nothing.

"Look at you…" you cooed. "So beautiful… Can you see what you’re doing to me?" you saw him nod as his eyes traveled down to between your legs. "Yet… you still don’t trust that I only want you."

You snapped your legs shut, thus depriving him of the sight of the leather soaked by you. In your mind, it felt like a punishment for him. In reality, it mainly gave you a moment’s relief as you discreetly rubbed your thighs together. You did not know how it was possible, but you were already very close to seeing stars.

"I do trust you!" Michael protested, aching to touch you. "I… I know that you love me…"

"Then why do you act like you don’t?"

He did not reply.

"That’s what I thought," you chuckled, letting your fingers traveled down your naked body. "Come here."

Your boyfriend crawled forward on his knees, stopping right between your legs. His hands returned to their places on his bare thighs, gripping his own skin to stop himself from touching you without permission.

God, you were about to come just from the sight alone.

"Good boy," you whispered, reaching out to cup his face. "Look at me."

Michael did as he was told. His eyes were glassy from love and desire.

"You do believe me when I tell you that I love you, right?" you asked, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I love you more than I’ve ever loved in my entire life. I could never want anyone else. You know that?"

"Yes… Yes, I… I believe you," he breathed.

You leaned forward, placing a kiss on his nose.

"Smart man," you murmured. "But I’m afraid you were too bad for me to forgive you already," you leaned back against the sofa, sighing dramatically as you released his face. "Mm… what should I do with you?"

"Anything you want," Michael pleaded. "Just… Please."

"Mm," you hummed. "Are you sure you can handle everything?"

He nodded desperately this time.

"Right," you chuckled. "Keep your hands to yourself, my love. No touching me or I stop."

Your boyfriend let out a whine that transformed into a moan as your hand closed around his member. His head fell back, hips bucking into your fist. You held him firmly without moving.

His cock felt almost scorching against your slightly damp palm, and it was so hard… Fuck, you had to stop yourself from getting up to ride him to climax. You applied pressure, finally moving your hand slowly up and down. His face contorted with pleasure as his breathing grew deeper and more ragged.

"P-please, b-baby…" Michael gasped.

"Shh," you stopped. "I didn’t give you permission to talk."

He groaned in frustration, his hips meeting each of your movements with desperation as you resumed your back-and-forth motion.

You leaned toward him, your lips tracing the curve of his throat, his jaw, his cheek and his nose. Every part of his face — of his whole being, in fact — belonged to you and could not escape your burning kisses. Your other hand set to work caressing your crotch in quick little circles. You did not need much stimulation to cross the finish line.

Your hand tightened around him, the pressure almost crushing his full testicles against the floor as you came, your body trembling with the sensation.

Michael pouted and whined, breathlessly begging you to bring him to the end too. Your moans were so loud that you were sure you could be heard from outside of the room.

Your heart was still racing, and your breath was still shallowed, when you came down from your high. Your mouth was still pressed against his skin, saliva drooling over it. You licked it back into your mouth, leaving a wet kiss behind as if to thank him.

When you opened your eyes again, that was when you realised he was desperately fucking your hand. Without a shred of remorse, you let go of his cock completely, thereby ruining his next thrust, and stepped back with a triumphant smile.

"Woman… you… you can’t… you can’t do t-this to me," Michael cried, frustrated. "Please, baby… Please. I… I won’t d-doubt you ever again, I p-promise, b-but p-please…"

"Oh, I know you won’t, my love," you mocked, your eyes glancing at the clock. "And that’s why you’ll have to think about your actions while I go finish shooting that scene, mmm?"

He opened his eyes, his irises twice as big as they normally were.

"W-what?"

You leaned forward once more to kiss the corner of his lips briefly.

( i believe it should be common sense that my works should not be used to train ai. also, spare me the bullshit of feeding my works into ai detectors. that shit is still ai and cannot be trusted .ᐟ i have been writing fanfiction since 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟥 for fandoms like one direction, h*rry p*tter, hunger games, grishaverse and asoiaf. i’ve also been studying french literature since 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟨, therefore, english isn’t my first language, but i always try to do my best .ᐟ ).

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦. ╱ 𝖬. 𝖩𝖠𝖢𝖪𝖲𝖮𝖭.

𝙎𝙐𝙋𝙀𝙍𝘾𝙐𝙏 ━━ 𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟰 ╱ 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟵. you met him after your first grammys performance, that's all it was supposed to be ━ a congratulations. instead, it became twenty years of almosts, with crossed paths, late-night phone calls, lingering glances, separate lives and feelings neither of you seemed able to leave behind. ( 𝖲𝖫𝖮𝖶 𝖡𝖴𝖱𝖭 ╱ 𝖲𝖴𝖦𝖦𝖤𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤 ╱ 𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖴𝖠𝖫 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳 ).

𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖶𝖨𝖪𝖨𝖯𝖤𝖣𝖨𝖠 𝖨𝖭𝖲𝖯𝖮 ( 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡 ━━ reader has no name and can be imagined however you want. this was just for fun. marriage date is also voluntary innacurate . . . ).

𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦. ╱ 𝖬. 𝖩𝖠𝖢𝖪𝖲𝖮𝖭.

𝙎𝙄𝙂𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇𝙎 ━━ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗥𝗔. some rockstars sign their fans' breasts. you wonder if your boyfriend is one of those. ( 𝖲𝖴𝖦𝖦𝖤𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤 ). 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒. flirting, teasing, 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗯𝘀, shy!michael.

𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 ━━ 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 𝗘𝗥𝗔. you have a new piercing and you can't wait to show it to your boyfriend. ( 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳 ). 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒. age gap, you!25+, 𝗻𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴, sensitive 𖬺 healing piercings, breasts worship, dry humping, oral sex ( f receiving ), dirty talk, brief mention of needle, praise kink if you squint, aftercare.

𝙎𝙋𝙀𝘾𝙄𝘼𝙇 𝙏𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙎 ━━ 𝗕𝗔𝗗 𝗘𝗥𝗔. you just had a fight with your boyfriend. unfortunately for you, he's also your boss ━ and you still have a work to do. ( 𝖲𝖴𝖦𝖦𝖤𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤 ). 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒. fluff, angst with a happy ending, mild language, jealous!michael, mention of prince ❨ oops ❩.

𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙃𝙄𝙈 ━━ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗥𝗔. as an actress known for her professionalism and talent, you were very well respected by everyone and especially your boyfriend. but when you decided to bring michael to a very special shooting, things get ugly pretty fast ━ it’s time for you to remind him his place. ( 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳 ). 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒. established relationship, sub!michael, dom!reader, jealous!michael, insecure!michael, orgasm denial, 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗷𝗼𝗯 ( m receiving ), praise kink, masturbation, reassurance.