miss ke 💐

Maybe it was when he let his hair grow long again, dark curls whispering along his neckline. Maybe a few weeks ago, the first time you’d felt that heady longing sprout in your gut after he slipped past you in the kitchen, muttering a small “‘scuse me” with a hand held to your waist.

You studied that moment—the engulfing mass of his hand fit to the curve of your plush skin. Maybe this is the way it was always supposed to go—you craving something he evidently doesn't. And your okay with that. 

Relieved, you feel Jaafar's teeming eyes collapse from your face to the person by his side; his “girlfriend”. This was a new revelation in the Jackson household. Jaafar had always spoken to girls, dated, slept around—stories spread from Jermajesty to you, each one picked apart when the words hadn’t yet stung. When none of it mattered at all.

Now it's different. This is the two of them sharing longing gazes and loving smiles. This is something you fear—no, you hope—is permanent. 

You and jermajesty fight the Encino heat as a shitty blockbuster film envelopes Hayvenhurst's games-room in the sound of curses and corny one-liners.

This moment is familiar, comfortable. It's shared and stuffed whole with memories of you and Jermajesty, holding your stomachs as laughter drowned whatever movie you’d both been paying no mind too. 

Yet as your mouth opens to spit out another joke only he'll understand, you hear it. A thud. Hard against the wall, hurried like it was an accident. 

Then, ‘thud’, again. 

“Jer, pause.” “Huh?” “Pause!” The boy meddles with the remote ‘till taciturnity substitutes the TV’s gunfire. Puzzlement paints his face as his dark eyes shadow your own, looking to the ceiling–above is the bedroom only a floor away. 

But when the ‘thud’ appears again, it comes in the form of a wail. Gradual, sultry, slick with only one thing—pleasure. 

“No fuckin’ way.” Jermajesty curses through the hand now airtight over his mouth. He side-eyes you, sneer playing with the tips of his lips. 

Then; another moan, this one a repulsive and undisputable souvenir of the thing you’ll never have—‘Jaafar!’ 

“Hey.” Jermajesty jostles your side, and when your answer is silence, calling your name seems to do the trick. “Fuckin’ perv. Listenin’ to them fuckin’.”

“I am not!” That breaks the seal—Jermajesty lets out a crescendo of moans, each just as whiney and high as the ones you’ve seen in cheap pornos. 

“Shut up! Gross.” You shunt him ‘till he finally accepts defeat and puts on a childish pout. Yet to your utter bewilderment, the noises halt completely. Silence returns like there was never anything before it. 

It was what felt to be the longest week of your life.

There was no amount of music, of noise, of focus on how your steering wheel felt in your hands that would satiate your mind. It simply kept replaying that same sound, an echo haunting your paper-view in every stagnant moment.

‘Jaafar!’

Like a broken record. 

You mocked your own neediness when dusk swallowed the summer evenings. Your idiocy was evident when you caught yourself hoping that Jaafar was anything more than your best friends brother, the boy who had you on his shoulders in the pool when you were young, who'd tease and mock 'till you shot him a cold glare—the man who'd stare at you across a crowded dining table like he chanted your name in his head. 

Though as Monday eased into Saturday, you made good at disregarding his posts online (or his presence in general). Instead, you’d managed to shove things into each second of every day, leaving no space for thoughts of him.

Now, Sunday collapses on you. 

Some vile part of you hopes that he can’t make it to the dinner, somehow falling ill and in dire need of attention from his girlfriend. 

You let out a hearty sigh and realign your spine, stepping out of the car into the setting sun. 

Encino ardour wraps your body in sweat as you knock once, rotating to admire the view from beneath Hayvenhursts imposing front-door. The sky is ribboned in pinks and reds as shadow begins swallowing the evening.

You are content. You are okay. 

The door behind you unbolts with a click and a slide before you turn to meet who you presume is the housemaid. Yet as your lips effort to form a smile, you find the muscles unmoving. 

Oversized shadowy cargos. A sheer white tee. An acquainted pair of polished air Jordans. 

Your heart falters as your eyes rake over the towering form. 

Jaafar isn't smiling—not yet. Not ‘till he checks you over once more for himself. Then it was all teeth, sharp canines and plush lips. 

“Hey.” A voice smoother than the spineless wind dancing with your hair.

“Hi.” You are the brick wall, tone an unbending force. You tear yourself away from his scrutiny and ram past him in a manner even you feel the urge to apologise for. But not today. 

You catch his scoff before the door is slammed behind you.

You ignore it, your focus instead stumbling upon the first thing your eyes find security in—Jermajesty. The boy is lounged across the living room couch like it’d proposed itself for his personal use.

You revelled in his lax demeanour, in his untidy hair and serpentine smile. You only wish you could share how the fighting urge to run from his house was because of his elder brother. 

Dinner manages to feebly leash your nerves. Yet with that familiar presence only a few feet away, another unwanted emotion seems to seep into your stomach. Guilt. 

Jaafar Jackson is a thoughtful and gentle man. He carries himself like clouds carry rain—capable of flooding, yet determined to hydrate instead. His reserve is thick around him. You often find yourself grateful that the coyness the media receives is not the attitude he presents to you. 

But, he can also be gaudy, brash, a tornado capable of taking entire towns down. His drive finds no end—and that is a precarious thought. When he focuses, his elusive auburn eyes flicker and ignite ‘till said focus is satisfied. 

You take another bite of your mash, grinning as someone’s infectious laughter catches in your own, before you feel it–

His merciless focus, the one that brands your skin every other dinner.

Instead of shying-away this time, you meet his gaze with the sharpness of your own.

He doesn't give in. He waits, and waits, and waits ‘till your reaction—in the form of your foot meeting his shin—forces him to squint and seethe. 

“Shit!” Jaafar curses below his breath, knuckles now a milky-white against the table. He raises his brows and chews at his bottom lip, shoulders shrugging like he’s got no clue why you left a blooming bruise on his leg.

If he could, you’re sure Jaafar would interrogate your motives—shake you ‘till you revealed the reason you snubbed him at the door, why your ‘cold shoulder’ feels searing hot.

But the boy beside you plays the finest safety net. Jermajesty is blissfully unaware that the only thing holding Jaafar back is himself. 

As the hours pass from 8pm, to 11, to 12, night shows no sign of ceasing its heat. Somehow, you’ve indulged in Jermajesty’s choice of movie. It gives you something to study, a sort of amity acting as the cherry on top of the fact that Jaafar had left not long after you and Jermajesty escaped dinner—a habit built after years of being sent away from the dining room when conversation drew in darker topics. 

You reach for the glass on the coffee-table, but find it filled with only a few stray blocks of ice.

“Jer, I’m gonna’ get something to drink. You want?” The boy shook his head, eyes glued to the screen. “Don’t pause.” “What makes you think I was gon’ wait for you.” 

You shake your head at his wit, rising from the relief of the couch and dragging your taut body to the kitchen.

Nightfall ebbs in through the windows, making each callous corner that much smoother as you make your way to the fridge. A content sigh leaves your lips as icy air breaches your sizzling skin. Your drink could wait.

For now, the cold air is- 

“Boo!” Two colossal hands fall heavy on your shoulders.

You yelp and tumble backward ‘till you find your footing practically inside the fridge. Before you connect those hands to a face, your mind is swift to prompt you on who’s fingers dig into the apex of your shoulders. 

“Jaafar, get off!” You shimmy and hope your ire-laced tone is adequate in warding him away. 

It doesn't seem to do the trick. Jaafar is unswerving ahead of you, hands on his stomach like your fear is the funniest thing in the world. He giggles ‘till his throat parches, ‘till he finds your face and realises you are, in fact, not harmonising with the hilarity. 

“Aw, c’mon! I was jus’ joking around.” “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?”

The man toys with his pink bottom lip. “I’m staying here tonight.”

You nod indifferently, as if you arn't aware of his every move.

Jaafar slithers past you as your back meets with the kitchen island, another trifling “‘scuse me” mumbled when he moves to the fridge and disappears inside. 

“What d’you want?” “Nothing.” “Then why you out here?” He peers out of the door, brows furrowed. White engulfs your knuckles as you wrestle the urge to smack the dainty moles on the left side of his face clean off.

Even in a state of perplexity, the man is painted like God bowed scripture into a human being.

“Where’s your girlfriend.” Your demand is disguised as a question.

“So thas’ why.” Jaafar delves back into the fridge, locating the glass bottle of iced water like he hadn't just opened a coffin full of unanswered questions.

“What does that mean?” “Nothing.” He withdraws, shuts the fridge, and steals space on the counter ahead of you.

“Jus’ knew you didn’t like her. And she’s not my girlfriend…” He hesitates, bottle half-way to his mouth before; “It's complicated.”

Something splits open inside you and delight threatens to crawl out. “Either way-” You barely have time to retort before Jaafar robs you of words. “Was it last week?”

You cross your arms, hating how the grin behind the lip of his bottle widens. “What about last week?” You attempt sincerity, even if your eyes oppose your tone. You can't look at him as your face warms. 

“I heard Jer. To be fair, I didn’t even realise we were bein’ that loud ‘till he started mocking her.” He dwells on whatever words teeter on the edge of his tongue, his silence drawing your eyes as he searches the bottom of his bottle. You can tell something is looming—something you have no control over. 

“But we've all done that before, right?” Jaafar knows that you aren't exactly untouched, but he's also aware that your dull experiences by-far overshadow any good ones.

Yet even as he presses all your buttons, his voice remains laced with silk. 

Jaafar expects you to shove him or to contest like you typically would.

Instead, your lower lip meet's its fate between your teeth as your eyes drift to the floor, lost in a thought you can't quite come to terms with. 

The idea of someone making those sounds because of the man unwavering ahead, eyeing you like he knows of your weak attempts to not think of him all week, has that cavernous need nestling into the hollow of your stomach. You squeeze your thighs and tense the arms enveloping your front. 

Nothing halts the molten desire, the repulsive remorse, from soaking into your fingertips. 

“Wait.” Is all Jaafar says, faintly below his breath. Then; “Is us talkin' about this … Turning you on?” 

That hauls you from your thoughts like a siren to an air-raid. It's red hot, flashing ‘warning! get out! escape!’

But as you meet Jaafar's gaze, his features shaded only by the full moon, you find your feet embedded to the floor. You are unmovable. 

“Shut up.” You mumble. “Nah, don’t think I will.” Jaafar pushes off the counter and stalks toward you, grin subsiding into a flat line on his face. 

He's close now. So close you can smell the musk and pungent leather from his opulent cologne.

His brawny arms fence you in as his hands fall flat on either side of you, like he knows his entire being is an emergency exit sign. You inhale before he can steal your breath.

“What, uh…” He sinks his head as warm lips meet with your ear, chest kissing the hands still folded over your front.

“What’d you do when you went home, huh?”

Your desperate to counter, to make any sound at all—but when your lips unfasten, only air flee's. 

“Did your hand find that sweet spot between your legs when you thought of her callin’ out my name? Did you imagine what I did to her to make her sound like that?” 

You study the tiles behind Jaafar's head like you have any concern of where they're from, then ponder just how long that toaster's been around because it looks rather new when-

Two sizeable hands find your wrists and work them undone. You realise now, as his heated skin meets with yours, that no amount of distraction can mute his touch.

So, you let him mould you like putty, enjoying how he manoeuvres you as if he's aware the heat from his palms is enough to melt wax. 

“Jaafar.” You exhale, waning annoyance nothing but an afterthought in your tone.

Yet the inkling of reluctance has Jaafar unfolding your forearms and kneading them tenderly, up and down, gesture slackening the nausea in your stomach.

“Hey, hey… It’s okay. Jus’ wan’ help you out, yeah?” He finally retreats from the crook of your neck and studies your expression—low-lidded eyes, your parted lips, the sweat forming along your hairline as your glistening chest rises without rhythm.

God, you look like craving incarnate. You look so horribly, irreversibly unfulfilled. 

“Counter.” Jaafar mutters.

It barely takes you a moment to lift yourself with the aid of his sturdy arms. You teem as the cool tile meets your bare thighs, soon thawed by Jaafars lengthy fingers, rubbing and kneading ‘till they slacken to allow his entry. 

His thumb edges along your panty-line, pushing in deep circles just beside the place you swore would never involve the man now only inches away from it. 

“Hands on my shoulders.” Another demand, another order you comply with in seconds. 

“T-this is stupid, Jaafar.” You murmur when his head unearths the crook between your shoulder and neck, lips not kissing but merely pressed against your glossy skin. 

“I know.” Then his palm was on you, driving deep circles into your clothed clit.

An unversed sound seeps from the back of your throat, like a whimper braided into a sigh—it's the sound of pure and unpolluted relief. 

“Theeeere you go.” He exhales against you, whole body stirring as he nudges the spot your desire begins. 

“Fuck…” You whine into his shoulder, mouth undone against the white of his shirt.

“You wan’ more?” 

You nod wildly, indifferent to how pitiable and deprived you must sound. All you know is that if this thing infecting your abdomen isn’t reached soon, it’ll drive you mad. 

“Atta’ girl.” 

You drone as his palm lifts from your core, only to find his fingers working to unfasten your shorts. With one hand, he unbuttons each with a pop so he can elevate you with his other.

He glides them down your legs, watches them hook onto your bare foot with a soundless scoff before focusing on the part of you pleading for release. 

“P-please, feels so-!” You huff like your patience is running from you. Jaafar doesn’t respond with sound, he simply raises his ring and middle finger to your lips, countenance speaking the words you know he can’t be bothered too—'open’.

Your lips part as two lengthy digits find the pad of your tongue and sink ‘till his knuckle is inches from your lips.

“C’mon.” He urges, watching you take the length with ease, sealing them inside as they lather in your spit.

He pulls them out with a ‘pop’ and admires the twinkle of slick in the moonshine.

His unsoiled hand moves your panties aside and makes way for his wet fingers to find your bare, swollen clit. You shudder into his touch, shaken at how fast he reveals that syrupy spot aching for aid.

He's unhurried at first, circling lightly at the nub while he studies your already fucked-out expression. When he sees your eyes beginning to seal, head waving like it's too heavy to hold, his pace quickens. 

“Fuck!” You cry out before feeling his hand thrust your head into his shoulder. You whimper against his shirt, fingers clinging to the delicate fabric.

“God, haven’t even done shit n’ you’re practically shaking.” He mutters into your hair as his fingers glide lower, lower, ‘till they gather at the concaving entrance to your sleek desire.

He hovers at the birth of your need, knowing just how to threaten your usually gutsy attitude.

“Please…” Defeat feels like fire between your thighs.  “Yeah? You want my fingers so bad I ain’t even gotta’ ask you to beg?”  

“Yes, Jaafar. Please…” Your sentence is one song-like slur. You're drunk on whatever spell this man has you under, and you have no intention of ridding yourself of it. 

The earthquake that is two fingers gliding into you has your teeth burrowing into the tough flesh on his shoulder. 

“Theeeere she is… Lemme’ in.” His fat fingers are motionless inside you, waiting ‘till your tightness moulds to the foreign sensation.

Then, they’re sluggishly drawn out, pulling an abhorrent sound from the back of your throat, before submerging back into your core. 

Your body shudders with each torturous lunge, hands seizing anything they can; his shoulders, his shirt—his hair. 

Your fingers venture to his scalp and yank as he drives inside you.

Jaafar falters as a pitiable noise trickles past his lips—a whimper.

Stretched like a sigh after a hard day’s work, scrawny like he’d been waiting for someone to claw at his scalp ‘till the hurt settled and stayed. Your thighs contract around his lean waist.

“Fuck, I felt that.” He mutters against you as your hole clenches on his hand. 

“Do it again.” Curiosity seeps through his gasping words. 

You tug at his scalp again, receive another high-pitched groan, and squeeze on his fingers. It’s like you flicked a switch in him, suddenly working you with a firmer, harsher hand.

Jaafar's fingers alone stuff you full. That thought earns him another hearty moan. 

“So fuckin’ tight f’me, shit…” His fingers stretch you wide and scissor when you feel something shift inside you, almost threatening your bladder—Jaafar's curling his fingers inside your stomach. You cry out again, noise stifled by his shirt. 

“Shh, shh. Use my shoulder, thas’ right.” Jaafar is nothing if not persistent. Curling, unfurling, curling again ‘till you can’t tell whether the white behind your eyelids is you seeing stars or the sun rising.

It doesn't matter—nothing seems to as he jerks at the knot in your abdomen and works on you ‘till all you can retain is the feel of his frenzied mouth against your ear. 

“You are so pent up… I can feel it. Your pussy’s practically crying for me.” You miss the moment his voice distorts from song-like to starving. Now, it's gruff, guttural, untiring as he feeds you a sensation you can only describe as being filled.

“Say you needed this—you needed me.” “Needed—Ngh!” His middle finger discovers the spongy spot inside you, prodding at it ruthlessly. 

“C’mon, use your words.” “N-needed you… Jaafar!” 

“That’s right.” He rewards you by grasping your hair and tugging ‘till your neck is left vulnerable.

Another spot he’s never truly been able to explore 'till now—an unpolluted canvas practically pleading for his marks. 

“Jaafar!” You warn between wheezes, trying to drag him away from the one place that’d raise questions you won't know how to answer. 

He grumbles in frustration, combatting the urge to latch on and suck ‘till purple spots and darkened bruises freckle your neck and chest. He diverts himself by putting his thumb to work, kneading your clit.

Tears invade your waterline at the added sensation. “Shit—F-feel s’ good.”

“Yeah? You’re so sweet, God. Didn’t even know I was doin’ this to you.”

His thumb accelerates and sets your nerves alight. Your digits spasm in his scalp, your thighs quiver with each thrust, and the only sound in the kitchen is the slick of your pussy and a pair of panting sighs. 

“Anyone ever make you feel like this?” He speaks your name and it's like a being embraced by the sun. 

You shake your head and snatch onto the forearm pistoning into you. “N-no.” You let out weakly. 

“No wonder you're so overwhelmed. Poor thing.” 

His words give you whiplash.

Only moments ago, Jaafar used your pitiable behaviour as leverage, a way to force words from your mouth that, in any other circumstance, you'd never dream of uttering.

Now, even though the words are coated in a twisted kindness only Jaafar is able to bend, they seem sincere. 

But with the way his fingers lead you to your edge, each slide and thrust a cruel reminder of the impending orgasm only he’s capable of tearing from you, you feel close to moaning his name the way you’d overheard exactly a week ago. 

“Gon’ make it all better, promise, sweet girl.” 

Sweet girl. 

Jaafar grunts when your fingers tense in his scalp, mouth ajar beside your ear as each of his huffs slowly transform into groans.

God, are you affecting him the way he's affecting you? 

The thought has you chanting curses into his neck.

And then it dawns on you—his hands everywhere, his breath fanning your skin, the idea of him rock-hard in his pants. A wave from the ever-growing ocean of your orgasm arises in your gut. You arch into his hold. 

“Quiet,” he whispers, breath heating your ear, “or else I’m gon’ have to find another way to shut you up.” 

Another swell jolts your spine and slinks into your crux. Jaafar shifts inside you once, adapts to the new angle, before discovering the sweet spot that has you salivating against his white tee. 

“There! Fuck, right there…” Your a blubbering mess, practically putty in his arms as your orgasm teases and twists your core.

“Mmm, that it? Fuck, your doin’ s’ well.” You squeeze and flutter around his fingers at the praise. “Can’t believe how good your bein’ for me.” 

“G-gon’ come!”

“I know, I know. You’re so sensitive.” When he feels your breath wedge in your lungs, when he feels the way your thighs lock around his waist and trap his hand, he yanks you away from his shoulder and takes your face into his hold. 

Your own hand wraps around his thick wrist as you acclimatise to the new position, eyes wavering closed as each nerve is attacked by his fingers. 

“Nah uh, look at me, c’mon sweetie…” 

You force your eyes open and contest every instinct that begs to roll them to the back of your head.

“Wan’ see the face you make when you come from jus’ my fingers.” 

Those words, the ones now tattooed to your mind, are enough to flip your gut and land lopsided inside you. The knot that pined to unravel for the past week pulls ‘till your muscles are solid beneath your skin, and then undos in a crescendo of agonising, suffocating waves of release. 

“Thaaaat’s it, there you go.” 

Your body ignites, blood and bone and artery singing as your orgasm leaves your ears ringing and your vision white. It stains you as Jaafar works methodically through it, his tentative rhythm syncing with that of your spasming muscles.

Yet even as his fingers persistently tease your entrance, you feel the weight of his eyes on every feature. 

He’s reading you like a book, annotating every freckle, mole and scar, just to note how they mould to your fucked out expression.

The way your lips part on a hushed sigh, the way your neck arches as the closing current of your orgasm frees itself, the way your sweat falls in perfect beads down your front and disappears beneath your shirt.

Your like the cover of his favourite novel. 

Silence loiters between you, blanketing breathless shoulders with a weight you both now understand you’ve ruined any chance of purging.

Yet ahead of you, Jaafars expression is almost one of indifference, like what he did was just an errand for your tortured body. 

A creaky whine crawls up your raw throat as his fingers finally glide out of your slick. You watch the way he eyes his hand, engrossed by the mess of liquids accumulating and dribbling down his fingers to his wrist.

He raises the concoction to his lips just like he had his water, and unlatches. Jaafar grins, pearly whites on display, before his fingers land flat on his tongue and disappear behind his plump lips. 

“Mmm…” He keens at your taste, eyes never wavering from yours as he removes them with an enthusiastic ‘pop!’ 

Jaafar Jackson looks delectable. His hair is dishevelled from your nails, shirt wrinkled from your hands, shoulder damp and marked by your drool.

Your eyes lower to the thing twitching beneath his pyjama pants as his voice comes out like velvet, sultry and soft—like he hadn’t just fucked you raw on his fat fingers and gone faint from the aftertaste; “Better?”

You had crawled into bed with Michael one night, skin glistening from the expensive floral scented lotion you’d just delicately rubbed into your skin, settling comfortably in the sheets next to him. He was quieter that night — he mumbled at dinner, barely conversing with you, playing with his food. Michael didn’t have a large appetite, so his lack of eating hadn’t phased you as much as it did now. You didn’t expect him to be too chatty that night either, you had already had a heated disagreement a few hours earlier that remained unresolved — something that was becoming more frequent in recent times due to his demanding career.

So, when you nestled against him, his hands rigid at his sides, was when you noticed something was undeniably wrong.

“Is everything okay, baby?” You asked, peering up from his chest to glance at his pokerface.

“I think we should split up.”

The words hit you full-force, panic and shock instantly flooding your emotion — sitting up so frantically it made Michael flinch.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Your voice was frantic and distressed, face forced into a scrunch of anxiety.

Michael stayed silent for a few moments, not daring to meet your eyes, just staring blankly at the wall next to him.

“Michael, don’t fucking joke with me. Fucking say something.”

“Stop cursing, please.” He forced out, voice hoarse and low, attempting to keep his dignity.

You scoffed in disbelief, “So, you blurt out that you wanna break-up, but all you care about is a curse? Are you fucking serious?” Anger was the emotion at the forefront of your brain now, utterly disgusted with his coldness towards you mixed with the cruelty of his words.

“Things are complicated right now.” He started, still facing away from you, “I’ve got the album and the tour, and we’re fighting too much already because of it. It’s not good for us especially if I’m away for long periods of time. You deserve someone who can be around for you. Someone better.” He sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t want to let this progress and then end up hurting one another more.”

“‘Let this progress?’ Michael we’ve been together for three years, nearly four. You didn’t think to end things three and half years ago if you didn’t wanna get hurt? Are you serious?”

“I still love you, I just want to protect us both from pain.” He spoke quietly.

“Love? This isn’t love, Michael, this is cruel. This is worse pain. Someone who loved me wouldn’t treat me like this. Why are you doing this to me? To us?”

His heart clenched as your voice cracked, not brave enough to look you in your eyes, now brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry.”

The words felt faux as they left his lips — silencing encasing the room. You scoffed, standing up swiftly from the bed, rushing into the bathroom, slamming the door harshly behind you. You missed the way Michael flinched once more as the loud sound echoed throughout the quiet room, a single tear falling down his cold cheek — attempting to ignore your wails of despair from behind the door.

He saw you for the last time as you rushed out of the bathroom — bag full of your toiletries in hand as you raced towards the bedroom door, sobbing.

He called your name, but you cut him off, swearing brutally at him, along the lines of ‘Go fuck yourself, Michael’. Your memory of that night wavered thin now — your brain compartmentalising the pain to the back of your mind, pushing it the furthest away from to prevent you from punishing yourself with the hurtful memory.

You were packed and moved out the same night — moving back in with your parents, who comforted you for weeks on end as you experienced the worst heartbreak you’d ever felt in your life. The one person you loved and trusted the most in your life had been the one to hurt you the most, too. It was a strange phenomenon — to still love and yearn for the person causing you agonising misery.

At month one, you spent most days in bed — wallowing in your despair, reading old love-letters, staring at photos taken on your first tropical vacation, your anniversary, his birthday. You were torturing yourself — a bittersweet pain that you struggled to rid yourself of. Ending most nights by sobbing into your hand as you read the newspapers — headlines of your split plastered everywhere. Utterly devastated at how disgusting tabloids portrayed you as a deadweight on Michael’s blossoming career, that you were only dragging him down, that he made a good decision to free himself of you.

By month two, you got back to work. You had managed to find your new routine — working hard on your own music, pouring your damaged heart into each song, passion flowing from your lips with each lyric. You didn’t cry as much — only now and again when Michael would pop up on the television, his new album ‘Bad’ going world platinum again, just as his others did, his success booming. What irked you most was he looked perfectly fine — smiling happily for the cameras, performing on stage on tour with pure, irrevocable talent, adoration and excitement oozing off of him, like he didn’t destroy someone’s life two months ago.

By month three, you acted unaffected. You’d moved out into your own place — gaining some unwanted independence. You began going about your life like you’d never met him — going on a few dates, dancing at clubs with your friends with guys you were a stranger to, late night calls with men you knew deep down would never compare, but indulging in the fun of it nonetheless— heart fuelled by anger and frustration, desperate to get back at him. When you finally moved on sexually, you were irritatingly disappointed — no man on the planet could please you like Michael had. That’s what filled you with pure rage. Faking orgasms and pretending as though their cock’s even made half the stretch that Michael’s did had you furious — often pushing them away mid sex, ordering them to get out of your apartment.

You were now almost at month six and the ice in your heart towards Michael hadn’t let up.

You pretended, to your family and friends, that you were over it — that it didn’t affect you anymore. That you had totally moved on with your life. Wrong. You were still livid deep down — not a single day going by where you didn’t curl your fists up in fury at the thought of him. Fury that you still had an annoyingly large place for him in your heart — that no matter how bitter you tried to convince yourself you were about him, it did nothing to dilute the sickly sweetness that overpowered your heart.

And that lovesick heart of yours was pounding violently in your chest right now.

Sat in the back of a limousine, dolled up to the Gods — hair, makeup and outfit perfected to a T, you looked divine. So divine you were determined to make a statement — one just as bad his.

Ironic.

The man in question who you were dying to shock, self-proclaimed as ‘bad’, connotations to his new album, was someone you believed to be sweet, tender and loving. An album title you always thought was truly ironic as he was quite the opposite.

Not as of recent.

Diana Ross had been a thorn in your side since the day you and Michael met. Her relentless flirtatious energy towards the man you craved was angering — even before you called it official was she persistent with her teasing.

“So, you’re the girl Michael keeps talkin’ so much about.” She drawled, the day you met her, your handshake harsher than usual as you gripped her bony hand in your own, “Not his girl, yet though, right?” She laughed, “Better snatch that handsome thing up before I do.”

You confessed your love to Michael that night.

You did truly have intense feelings for him — but that old cow had given you the push you needed. No way in hell was she going to take him away from you — not on your watch.

So, rightfully so, you were anxious at the thought of her finding out about your split — wondering what her next move would be. You’d spend everyday reading the newspapers in a panic, skimming through a thousand words a second in an attempt to find any news of them being spotted together.

And the day came — a week before The 1988 Soul Train Music Awards. The very award ceremony you were heading to, looking so beautiful.

Michael and Diana were front page — pressed tightly against one another at a famous club. His smile was bright, wide and genuine — something you’d missed seeing in person, now adorning his captivating face because of that witch. She had looped her arm through his, the picture capturing her pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. The title read ‘MICHAEL MOVING ON ALREADY? — OLD FLAME REIGNITED’

Oh, he had really done it this time.

He knew how much you hated her — loathed her, actually. The older woman often getting in the way of your relationship throughout the years you were together — despite having a husband herself, she was betrothed with your man.

So, even if technically he didn’t owe you a thing as you weren’t his anymore, you silently felt fury at him for letting her kiss him for the cameras.

Therefore, your only response was to fight fire with fire — childish? Maybe. But, clever? Absolutely.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

The sound of Prince’s voice next to you in the limo tugged a devilish smirk onto your face as you nodded.

If Michael wanted to play dirty — you would play real dirty.

The car had rolled to a stop — flashes of the paparazzi’s intrusive cameras burnt into your vision as the driver pulled the door open. You stepped out, smoothing your dress, a wide smile on your face, waving sweetly as you waited for your date to exit the vehicle.

If you thought the flash was bright before, you were mistaken. Spots blurred into your vision as Prince stood next to you, instantly taking your hand in his own, confidence oozing from him as always, before smiling down at you. You turned to him — pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, lipstick now smeared across his skin, earning a knowing laugh from his throat.

Cha-ching!

Those pictures, dripping with revenge, were a real moneymaker — something that would put that sloppy, old hag’s attempt to make you jealous to shame.

Everyone knew of the musical feud between Michael and Prince — the two men battling for the title of ‘the biggest star in the world’. You knew that Michael took the cake — but, you also knew that seeing his biggest rival with his ex-girl would shut down any attempt of riling you up.

“Nicely done.” Prince whispered, lips close to your ear as you were ushered inside the building. He was aware of your vengeful plan — and more than willing to help aggravate his arch nemesis.

“You too.” You sent a wink his way, engaging in a childish, unison giggle, knowing exactly what you were doing was going to end messy, “I’ll see you later.”

You parted ways with your exes nemesis, not before letting him press a calculated kiss to your knuckles, peripheral vision burning as more cameras captured your (fake) romantic moment, before being ushered to your assigned seat.

You were fairly near the stage, around three rows in front, next to your favourite female pop-star and close friend, Whitney Houston. A real, genuine smile burst across your face when she seated herself next to you.

“Girl.” She breathed out a laugh, placing her clutch bag gently in her lap.

“What?” You laughed, smiling across at her in confusion.

“Honey, I think you know what.” She shook her head with a grin, “You made quite the entrance back there.”

Perfect.

The corners of your lips tugged up into a deeper smile, “Then my plan is working.”

Whitney chuckled, “I just know that poor man is beyond ticked off right now.”

“‘Poor man’?” You scoffed, “He is far from poor. You saw the papers, right?”

“Everybody did, sweetie.”

“Number one, not helpful,” You pointed a finger at her, ignoring the way she cackled, “And two, he had it comin’” You paused, “Everyone, including him, knows how much I hate her.”

“Hate who?”

You froze — the infamously familiar voice that once had you smiling like a damn idiot before, now had your face falling as your head lurched behind you.

And there he was.

Michael.

In all his annoying glory — sporting a dashing red button-up, a sleek tie around his neck, paired with a black suit jacket, that hugged the curve of the lean muscles in his arms in a way that your breath hitching in your throat.

It aggravated you that he looked so good.

But, you knew that he knew that you looked better.

Your irritation only blossomed as you glanced at the seat to your right — eyes rolling in annoyance as his name, scribbled onto a flimsy piece of paper on the chair right next to you, hit your vision.

Fuck award show assigned seats.

“Well, shit, girl.” Whitney mumbled, laughing under her breath as she turned away from the tension that was rising as Michael took his seat.

“Hello.” He spoke, voice soft and gentle, just like you remembered.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” Your voice came out harsher than expected, an angered frown visible on your face as a grin bloomed on his.

His mouth went to open, but you cut him off, hand shooing him away, “Actually, don’t even speak to me, please.”

“You look beautiful.”

“What did I just say Michael?”

You hated the way he smirked at your snappy tone, lip coming between his teeth as he obeyed your request, getting comfortable in his chair. You also hated the way your heart did an extremely noticeable flip in your chest at the compliment.

This night was going to be the death of you.

And it only got worse as Michael retreated to the stage, not once, but twice — each time looking more gracious and handsome as the next. He won Best Single and Album of the Year for Bad — the trophies enclosed around his beautiful, slender hands, ones that once gave you blissful satisfaction.

You despised your weak mind for the way you let it run away with itself — eyes trailing over his tall, elegant frame each time he’d take the stage. That infamous smile that had you weak at the knees did nothing to cool the desire that was overpowering your anger, the yearn for him only increasing.

Michael thumped into his seat next to you with a sigh, now two awards richer, running a hand through his long curls that cascaded down his shoulders.

You could sense he was looking at you — his smiling face visible in your side eye-line, but you refused to turn, your eyes fixated on the stage as the next category was revealed.

“Saw your little stunt earlier.” He whispered, “Real classy.”

You scoffed quietly, “That’s rich.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You knew that tone — that cocky, teasing tone that had you gritting your teeth.

You finally turned to face him, “Oh, right. I’m sure letting that old crow kiss you is a regular thing now, huh?”

“Saw that, did you?” He was testing you, it was evident in the way the knowing smirk on his face never faltered.

You were halfheartedly listening as your name was read for the nomination, not even bothering to care as you held your gaze with the man seated next to you — a brutal lock of eyes that said a thousand words. You were furious, failing to hide it miserably, and he, well, he was enjoying it.

“I did.” You started, “Nice to see a downgrade was my replacement.”

Michael’s smile flickered at your harsh dig at his life-long friend, “I think I could say the same about your date.”

“At least I have one.”

That sure wiped the smirk off his face.

“And definitely not a downgrade in the bedroom.”

You basked in his shock — the smirk he once sported now adorning your face, nearly missing the way your name was called from the stage, the room erupting in applause.

“Excuse me?” Michael’s voice was bitter, cold, mortified at your admission. A false one at that, but he didn’t need to know. Yet.

“Sorry, can’t hear you.” You shrugged him off, rising to your feet with a proud smile — at your award mostly, but also at your triumphant win in the petty disagreement, as loud cheers exploded in your ears.

You took the stage — a new found confidence oozing off of you, a gorgeous smile on your face as you took the award from the announcer’s hands, pulling them into a small hug. You thanked your producer, musical team, family and friends — humbleness evident in every word you spoke.

You looked perfect — utterly radiant under the bright lighting blaring down onto the stage, award glistening in your hands as your pearly white smile twinkled in the spotlight.

Michael, albeit still in an angered daze over your admission, couldn’t help himself but rake his eyes over your frame — breasts pushed perfectly up your corseted dress, the curve of the plush mounds visible to everyone’s eyes from the audience, eyes never leaving those perfect tits he’d once nestle his face into as he flung your legs over his shoulders and filled you to the hilt with his cock.

The thought had him readjusting his slacks — hard-on now painful against the restrictive clothing at the delicious reminiscing of your love-making.

It was your next words that had the sexual memories leaving his head.

“And I wanna thank my wonderful date for tonight— matter of fact, come up here! Prince, where y’at, honey?”

The room erupted into cheers once more — everyone but Michael, who attempted to drown out Whitney’s disbelieving laughter from two seats down from him, watching as you shielded your eyes from the light, searching for the man in the crowd.

Michael stared lethal daggers into Prince’s back as he sauntered up the stairs to the stage — his chest heaving in undeniable envy as he watched Prince pull you into a tight hug. Those gorgeous breasts now pressed up against Prince’s chest.

He was livid. Hands tightening around the material of his trousers, knuckles white as his grip turned taut.

“Not only is he a Pop King,” The room exchanged hushed gasps at the title, one that everyone knew belonged to your furious ex, “But, he’s also a fantastic plus one.” Laughs fizzled out the shock at your insinuation that Prince was only there with you, not for his own musical nominations.

Michael, however, had never felt fury quite like it.

That title was his.

One he worked so hard for — something him and that idiot, in his mind, up on stage with you had fought over for so many years. And you knew that.

He knew you were aggravating him deliberately.

Prince smirked, eyes finding Michael’s in the crowd, expression darkening, “Sorry, Michael.”

And with a smooth arm wrapped around your back, and a swift dip in the air — he kissed you.

Well, not actually.

His lips attached to the corner of your mouth, barely touching, but to the audience, and more importantly, the cameras, it looked as though your ex-boyfriend’s fiercest enemy was kissing the life out of you on stage.

And, boy, did everyone in the room eat it up.

Standing ovations and screams of joy sounded in the room as they clapped — basking in the pure drama of it all.

Prince pulled away from you with a smile, winking at you as you laughed, shaking your head. He took his hand in yours, guiding you backstage, the noise of the crowd dying down as you were ushered away.

“You’re evil.” You chuckled, chest heaving from the adrenaline.

“Well, maybe it’ll give him the push he needs to try get y’back.” Prince admitted, “Either that or to write ‘nother okay album.”

You shoved his arm playfully, “Oh, stop. Y’know it was a good album.”

“Sure, sweetheart, sure.” He teased, sending another smug wink your way, earning another giggle from your lips.

You’d barely made it ten steps backstage before an all familiar frame blocked your way.

You swallowed thickly as Michael’s cold, blank expression met your eyes, his hands curled at his side as he held your gaze — watching as the smile fell from your face.

He didn’t fail to notice how quickly you dropped Prince’s hand, either.

“Come with me. Now.” His voice was darker than his usual soft, gentle tone — not holding a deeper undertone of something that had a chill running down your spine.

“Oh, he mad now.” Prince spoke up, a soft, breathy laugh leaving his lips, “Don’t be jealous, brother, y’got ‘Ross don’t’cha?”

Michael’s jaw clenched, his gaze turning to Prince, eyes darkening into something icier, “I’d walk away if you know what’s good for you.”

Prince laughed once again, eyes flickering back towards you, “Good luck, girl.” He turned back to Michael, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Be sure to bring her back t’me when you’re done, yeah?”

Michael lunged, flinging his hand off his shoulder in a brutal shove, turning towards him with clear intent. You rushed in between a seething Michael and a laughing Prince, hands steadying the angered man on his chest.

“Enough. Both of you.” You hissed, “Just go.” You signalled to the amused man behind you.

Prince didn’t fight it — just turned to walk away with his hands in the air in surrender, chuckling as he went.

“Michael, what the hell was that for?” You snapped.

Michael didn’t speak — only grabbed your wrist in a firm, not aggressive, more so possessive, grasp, tugging you away, his longer legs moving swiftly with each stride, your own practically in a run as you fought to keep up.

He found a nearby bathroom, pushing the door open with all his strength, ignoring the way you winced at the sound of the handle harshly slammed into the wall. The door was shut and locked quicker than it had opened — before you were pushed against it.

“Me?” He started, answering your prior question, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, pupils blown in distress, “I think I should be asking you that question, sweetheart.”

The pet-name spat from his mouth with a curl of his lips — face contorted into a scowl.

You gained your pride, taking two hands to his shoulders and shoving him, your strength against his own doing as little as moving him a few steps backwards.

“Don’t get it twisted, Michael.” You retorted, “You started this with that bitch.”

Michael scoffed, “Go’head, baby, try and convince yourself I’m in the wrong here.” His tongue poked out from his inner cheek, “You’re insatiable.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.” Your voice seeping with distaste at the familiar pet-name, “You lost that privilege the second you gave up on us like we were nothin’.” You shook your head, “Would’ve let you have it back if you didn’t let that old slut rub up on you like you’re a fuckin’ groupie.” You laughed darkly, looking him up and down, “Not now. Lost every fuckin’ chance with me.”

Michael looked taken aback by your disrespectful words — teeth grinding together as he never took his eyes away from your own.

“I never gave up on us willingly.” He revealed, ignoring the way you scoffed with a laugh, as he took a step closer to you, “And as for her,” He paused, attempting to find the right words.

“See? You can’t even convince yourself there’s nothin’ going on there.” You cut him off, hands flailing in the air as you spoke theatrically.

“Let me finish, woman.” He shot back, “As I was sayin’ — she means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. She’s an old friend. Someone who mentored me as a kid. We have history — but nothin’ more than platonic. Barely even platonic, just professional.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Michael. No ‘professional mentor’ kisses their ‘colleague’ like that.” You air-quoted the words that felt faux with your manicured fingers, shaking your head, “Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”

“Not in that sense, no.” He started, “For actin’ like that with him? Maybe.”

You laughed in disbelief, “You just love it, don’t you? Pretending to yourself that I’m the bad guy, that I went up there and acted like that just to hurt you with no real reason?” You looked him up and down with disgust, “You’re so blind.”

“How many times, girl? There’s nothin’ going on with me and Di.”

He regretted the use of the nickname the second it left his mouth.

“Di? That sounds real professional to me, asshole.” You turned on your heel, clicking the lock back open and twisting the handle, pulling the door open in an attempt to storm out.

Before you could even move, the door was slammed shut once again. The loudness blooming a new found silence in the room, one that failed to occur from the second you walked in there.

Michael’s hand, despite his burning anger, remained gentle as moved your body back to face him, pressing you back into the door.

“Don’t even think about it.” He whispered, “You are not walkin’ away from me.”

“That’s ironic.” You bit back, “If you hadn’t have done that in the first place, we wouldn’t be havin’ this argument.”

“Y’think I wanted to do that? Think I wanted to sit there and watch you panic? Listen to you cry? Hear you cuss me out because of pain and anger I caused? No. That’s where y’dead wrong, girl.” He let out a shaken breath, “I have always, from the moment I met you, till this very day, loved you. Loved you so much I had to give you the life you deserved. I had to let you go. Had to get you away from the pain I was bringin’. No one wants to be with someone who’s never there, and when they are, they’re always fightin’.” Then, he went silent, his eyes now softened as they met your glassy ones, tears threatening to fall as you let him talk.

You both stayed in deathly loud silence, louder than any door slamming or screaming argument — silence that spoke more words than any you’d ever said.

You swallowed thickly, your resolve cracking as his admission settled in your brain, “That wasn’t your decision to make, Michael.” Your voice was quieter now, still with the same stubborn sharpness, but less accusatory, now filled with evident upset.

Michael breathed, his head hanging low, his forehead a mere few inches from your own, “I regret that night every fucking day.” He whispered, a vulnerable string of words that hung heavy in your heart, “Letting you walk out that door was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Why her?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, a stray tear falling down your cheek as you met his gaze.

“It wasn’t a personal attack. She was just at the same club and approached me.” He revealed, “The picture was taken before I even had a chance to say no.”

You shook your head, breaking the eye-contact as you looked at your feet, hiding your rapidly falling tears. Michael’s trembling hand reached for your face, a tentative hand cupping your warm cheek, lifting your face to meet his eyes once more.

“Mama..”

“Stop.” You turned your head, pushing his hand away with your own, “I can’t even look at you.”

“Don’t act so innocent.” Michael’s tone, that had once softened, grew the all too familiar iciness that had been evident the whole evening, “I’m trying to fix things here despite your little ordeal earlier. D’y’know what it’s like to see you kissing him up there? That used to be me if you even remember.”

You let out a low laugh, “He didn’t even kiss me, fool, ‘was all an act. Unlike you and Di.” You barked, “Y’know you actually blow my mind, you’re so—Mmmph!”

Michael connected your lips in a frantic kiss, cutting off your incessant bickering, lips moving against yours quickly.

You shoved him back, gasping for air at the sudden loss of breath, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Puttin’ that bratty fuckin’ mouth to better use.”

He kissed you again — mouth sliding against your own in a feverish lip-locking, a hand now gripping the nape of your neck, the other on the curve of your waist.

And this time — you let him.

You melted into him, hands flying to his face, eyes fluttering shut as you caved, droplets of tears falling onto the tops of your cheeks — falling deeper into his mercy. His tongue slid across the surface of your bottom lip, still awaiting permission despite his frustration. You allowed it, letting his tongue slide into your warm mouth, humming in delight at the taste of his minty breath on the hot muscle, revelling in the way he pushed his body into yours. His hands wondered — now travelling down your body to grab a handful of your ass through your dress, continuing his oral assault on your swollen lips.

“Jump.”

You obeyed, leaving his lips to leap into his arms — his hands cradling your behind as he connected your lips once more, settling you on the sink, slotting himself between your ajar legs.

Michael detached his mouth from own, moving his lips down the curve of your jaw, and down your exposed neck — letting his hips rock into yours involuntarily, while he sucked possessive marks into your skin, at the sound of your breathy moans, head tilted back to allow him better access.

“Michael, please.” You whined, voice a needy plea, hands sliding up into his hair, threading through his tight curls.

“Please, what, angel?” He mumbled against your neck, breath hot against your skin, fresh lovebites forming as he spoke.

“Please—mmhm—Need you, fuck.”

Michael pulled away, hands flying to your dress, pulling down the zipper harshly — before pulling you to your heeled feet, pushing it off your body swiftly, leaving you in just a skimpy bare of lace panties.

Ones you knew were his favourite.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He breathed, eyes raking over your bare frame, glossy doe-eyes peering up at him as he towered above you, “Wore my favourite just for me?”

You nodded, “Just f’you, Mike.”

Michael turned you, with precise smoothness, pressing your stomach against the cold of the sink, your bare back now pressed against his chest.

He slid a tentative hand up your side, toying with the tiny string the thong that clad your bottom half, as he locked eyes with your own in the mirror before you, “How am I supposed to know you didn’t wear them for him, mama?”

You pushed back against him, rolling your hips into the statement of his arousal, “Shut up about him and fuck me.”

A harsh hand connected with your left ass cheek — a half-gasp half-moan ripping from your throat at the sudden contact, “Thought I told you to keep that bratty mouth shut?”

You, testing your luck, ground against him once more, smirking at the way his hand tightened against your hand-printed behind, “Give me what I want then.”

Michael shook his head behind you — one hand working on his belt, pushing his slacks down along with his boxers, his palm wrapping around his achingly hard cock, pumping himself slowly, while the other pulled down your panties, now morphed into the shape of your plush folds from your leaking arousal, to the side, “Be careful what you wish for, doll.”

With one swift, sudden thrust, Michael pushed inside you — bottoming out instantly. A scream erupted from your throat at the instant fullness, your tight cunt struggling to adjust to the sheer size of him as his leaking tip kissed your cervix. Your pussy betrayed you as it clenched around him, drooling around him, coating his cock in your slick.

His hand flew to your mouth, his large palm enclosing around your swollen lips, muffling the whimpers that left you as you struggled around him — eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of him throbbing inside you.

“Keep those eyes open, mama,” He ordered, sliding out of you slowly until the only thing that remained inside your quivering hole was his plump mauve cockend, “Want you to see how pathetically you fall apart on my cock. My cock. No-one else’s.”

He pushed in again with the familiar harshness from before as your eyes shot open — now starting a brutal, animalistic pace that had you clawing at the tense of his hand that enveloped your mouth, hiding the high-pitched squeals and whines of pure, irrevocable lust that took over your mind, body and soul.

Michael groaned into your ear, eyes locked on your own as he fucked into you with such a pace and lack of gentleness that you’d never seen before. During your companionship, Michael took his time with you — worked you open with his mouth and fingers, took his time to get you ready for the thickness and length of him. But, not this time — all the pent up rage brought upon him from the start of the night now being fucked into you with every harsh rock of his hips.

Keeping you flush against his chest, his free hand slid down to where you connected — rubbing tight figure eights against your clit that throbbed for attention. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes rolling to the back of your head, ignoring any order he gave you to hold his gaze.

“Mmphmh—M-Mich—Michael, please!”

Words failed you as you cried against his hand, drunk on the way his cock dragged in and out of your gummy walls that sucked him in with each thrust — the sound of your feverish moans and your squelching cunt mixing with his breathy groans filling the air of the bathroom that now stunk of Michael’s intoxicating cologne and passionate sex.

“Take it, baby, take this fuckin’ dick.” He grunted into your ear, his words unlike his usual loving coaxes, “Make up for what’cha did.”

Michael hissed as you bit down on the skin of his palm, his hand pulling away from the source of pain as he meet your gaze in the mirror — your own expression now deepening into a scowl, “Fuck you.”

The words spat from your mouth, dripping with venom, at his words of blame, watching as his face scrunched up in frustration.

“Oh, you’ve done it now, ma.”

His pace never let up — if anything, since your oral stunt, it quickened. He forced you down, now completely bent over the sink as he created a new angle — his cock now driving deeper into your sopping cunt, abusing the sweet spot inside you relentlessly.

Now released from his grasp, your loud, incessant cries sounded throughout the small room — so voluminous that any passerby would hear every scream of his name.

His hand collided with your ass cheek again — cursing under his breath as the familiar feeling of a much needed orgasm crept up his abdomen. The lustful spark in your stomach blossoming much the same as he slid a hand into your hair, tugging your head upwards to look directly into the mirror once more. You were a state, completely, and literally, fucked — eyes streaming with tears that coated your hot cheeks, lips swollen and stricken with spit from his frantic kisses, and a small yet equally evident imprint of his fingers around your mouth where he held you harshly.

“‘M gonna cum so fuckin’ deep in this pussy that you can’t fuckin’ walk without flooding your little panties with my seed.” He grunted, never letting his thrusts faltering as you squirmed beneath him, “Who’s needy little cunt is this?”

Words failed you as you continued to cry — only desperate, eager whimpers falling from your lips.

Another spank connected with your ass cheek, coaxing a loud whine out of you, “Answer me when I ask you a fuckin’ question, woman.”

“Yours!—fuck, Michael, it’s all yours.” You panted, tears falling from your eyes faster than you could stop them.

“Say this pussy’s mine.” Michael spat, tugging hard on your locks of hair.

“My pussy’s all yours, baby, fuck—mmph!—Gonna cum!”

Michael hummed, clearly pleased with your response, his hips stuttering as he neared his own release, “Cum with me, beautiful, cum on my cock like a good girl.”

You cried out, loud and despairingly, as you finally broke — red-hot ecstasy taking over your body as you came, the flood gates of your pleasure breaking open to consume you. Michael followed, the tight clenching of your quivering pussy sending him over the edge, spurting his hot seed into your fertile cunt as he groaned lowly — the sensation of his cum filling your fluttering sex only furthering your own orgasm.

You slumped against the countertop — chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath. Michael stilled behind you, swallowing thickly as he softened inside you. He leant down, pushing his chest against your back, coated with a sheen of sweat, before pressing a soft, loving kiss to your shoulder.

His kisses trailed up to your neck, beneath your earlobe, your cheek, before using a trembling hand to tilt your head to the side, and pressing his lips against your own. You sobbed into the kiss, more tears, now from overwhelming emotion, falling from your eyes. Michael’s hand cupped your cheek — deepening the kiss, that once held so much irritation, resentment and anger, now filled with undeniable attachment, deep love and compassion.

“I love you.” Michael breathed, disconnecting your lips, resting his forehead against yours — singular curl that stuck to his slick forehead tickling your own, “Please be mine again.” He whispered.

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose, head reeling from the overstimulating rush of emotions.

“But don’t pull that shit again.” He added with a playful smile.

“Yeah,” You sniffled with a breathy laugh, “You too.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It kept you up at night — how can a man so infatuated not want to strip you bare and ravish you till the sun came up. Not want to see you, stark naked, in all your glory, writhing and whining underneath him as he took you.

Michael had his reasons.

Timidity. Inexperience. Insecurity.

But, the largest factor of all — religion.

Michael was a raised as a devoted Jehovah’s Witness — something his Mother had instilled in him from birth. A religion built on morality and modesty. A religion that forbid sexual intercourse before marriage.

Michael wasn’t as devoted as his Mother — ever since his album Off the Wall, he had slowly began parting ways with the religion. Distancing himself as the connotations of his album were subtly frowned upon due to mentions of sensuality and infidelity — however, his personal beliefs about a higher power still remained.

He still, after his parting, believed that sex was something marital and holy — something to be worshipped and protected, performed with someone you truly love and trust.

And he did. He did, wholeheartedly, love and trust you — with every fibre of his being. But, every time your hand would trickle down his body, grazing over the painfully obvious bulge that clad him beneath his slacks — he would stop you. The guilt that washed over him far greater than any aching pleasure he so desired.

As time progressed, and your relationship blossomed — that guilt diminished. Grower smaller and smaller with each tentative touch or pleading look you’d give him. Each one cracking the glass dome of restraint he had locked himself in.

You knew tonight you’d finally shattered it.

Michael was sat comfortably next to you on the sofa at Hayvenhurst, a gentle hand resting on the curve of your clothed knee, television blabbering in the background as you watched him. He looked gorgeous in every aspect, but right now — calm, relaxed, content, it took the cake.

“Watch the movie, lovey.” His voice soft and bashful, a blush creeping onto the round of his cheeks after catching you staring.

“I think my view is better.”

Michael breathed out a huff of timid air — your quick-witted flirting always got to him. “Stop. Y’know I’ll get shy.”

You giggled next to him, shuffling closer to his warm body, “I know y’beautiful, Mike.”

He laughed, turning his flushed face away from you in embarrassment, “Can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause..” “‘Cause, what, angelface?”

Michael groaned, finally returning his gaze back onto you, a smile he failed to suppress adorning his ethereal face, “‘Cause y’makin’ me think things that I shouldn’t.”

Ting!

The lustful lightbulb sparked so bright in your brain you almost saw stars.

There was your green light.

“Like what, sweetie.” Your voice now hushed, darker, deeper — an undertone of temptation that had Michael reeling inside, “Tell me.”

“B-Baby.” He was cracking — you were certain. The way he twitched as a calculated hand fell into the tense of his lap, stroking languidly along his clothed thigh, the denim scratching along your manicured nails — paired with a small knit in his eyebrows that made him look so deliciously adorable.

“What’s up, honey?” You teased, face now inches from his own bashful one, “Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ mind of yours.”

Michael whined, deep from his throat, as you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your mouth moved slowly — trailing to his warm cheek, to the sharp of his jawline, and ending on the smooth of his bare neck. The gentleness of your lips against his burning skin had him fluttering his eyes shut — basking in the sensation. His hands moved subconsciously, once against your knee, now hesitantly holding the curve of your waist as you pressed yourself against him.

“Wanna hear it, Michael.”

He whined again, ever so louder this time, a statement of his timidity, “Baby, please.”

Your lips left his skin to move upwards, meeting his gaze once more. He looked wrecked — torn between honouring his devout innocence or letting his dirty mouth reveal his secrets.

You made the decision for him, clambering over him to settle in his lap, legs either side of his twitching hips. His eyes shot open in surprise.

“Honey, I-“ “It’s okay, sweet boy, I know what you’re thinkin’, anyways. Someone else is doin’ all the talkin’ for ya.”

Michael knew exactly what you were on about.

His embarrassingly obvious hard-on pressed into the softness of your clothed cunt — your skirt ridden up your thighs so perfectly that the cotton of your panties now resided directly on top of the boner he was attempting to hide. Despite never seeing his gracious cock with your own eyes, you knew he was big — every ridge now digging into the slick of your covered folds, hugging his length through his pyjamas bottoms.

“Let me make you feel better, handsome.”

Heaven and hell. That was the only thought that plagued Michael’s mind in this moment. Did he remain pledged to his beliefs, or was the way your drooling cunt wrapped around him, despite the barrier of clothing, enough to make him crack?

With one flex of his grip around your waist, and a breathy whine from your lips — the restraint shattered.

His lips met yours in a feverish connection — sloppy and messy. Spit coating your lips and chin as he forced his eager tongue into your mouth — hands now splayed across the small of your back, pushing you closer. His mouth met yours in a frantic motion, quick and rushed, like he was afraid someone, or something, would stop him at any moment. Your hands slipped up his body, resting on the lean of his shoulders, before sliding into the sweetness of his curls.

He truly crumbled when your hips began moving.

A slow, tantalising rock against him — movements so precise and languid he was certain one harsh buck and he’d fill his boxers right then and there. You had played this game with him before — being in this compromising position wasn’t new to you and Michael. You had once, in a state of pleasure, picked up your speed as you rocked against him, but he quickly shut it down. Telling you, bashfully, he was soon to finish and felt wrong about it — paired with a pout and blush.

This time, though, when your hips picked up a swifter pace — he daren’t stop you.

He’d been agonisingly hard and denied an orgasm for months now — every time he’d nearly get there, the devil on his shoulder telling him to carry on and make a mess of his shorts, the angel on the other side would force him to halt your hips to a stop, apologising at the way you’d whine in disappointment.

Michael let you take what you needed — back arched, hands threaded through his curls as you fucked yourself on his clothed cock, the prettiest noises falling from your swollen lips.

“Y’look so beautiful like this.” Michael revealed quietly, hands following the liquid movements of your hips, eyes trailing over your frame, focusing on your erect nipples poking through your tank-top, the curve of your breasts becoming more visible with each bounce.

With every drag he guided along the ridge of his cock that relentlessly nudged against your puffy clit — your whines got louder, only forcing his cock to throb beneath.

Michael, all too familiarly, held you to a stop.

“Michael.” His name fell past your lips in a desperate plea, the pleasure depleting as you stilled against his crotch.

“I know, I know, sweet girl.” He reassured, leaning up to press a gentle peck to your pouting lips, “M’not stoppin’, don’t worry that pretty head. Just wanna try somethin’.”

He lifted you off his lap with strong precision — settling you down to a place you’d not explored with the temptation between your legs.

His thigh.

“There y’go, pretty.” He whispered, smoothing down the back of your hair in kind strokes, “Go’head, baby, take what’cha you need.”

Your head reeled at the sudden change in his disposition — the once shy boy had magically been transformed into a confident man as the remains of his restraint settled around you.

His new attitude sent a pulsation so strong between your thighs you ground down on his — the tense of his muscle rolling against your nub in the most sensual way. Something you’d never quite felt before.

“Oh, God.” You whined — ignoring the way Michael tched at the name used in vain, not once stopping as he dragged you along his leg, lip caught between his teeth as he ogled at you.

“D’ya feel good, pretty?” Despite his switch in confidence, he was still desperate for your praise, his voice cracking slightly as he met your glossy eyes.

“Mmhm—s-s’good, Mikey.” Your voice hit him right where he needed you most — the place between his twitching legs that had been denied touch for so long.

You didn’t miss the way his hips bucked ever so slightly upwards, chasing a grasp he undeniably craved. Your hands soothed that ache — reaching forward, ever so hesitantly, to palm the bulge in his slacks.

Michael gasped, hand flinching at your side, frantic eyes meeting yours once more, “This okay, angel?” You questioned.

Michael’s lip sucked between his teeth once again, glance flickering from your gorgeous smile to your manicured hands hovering over his crotch. An act he would once deny — but not this time.

He hummed, his voice high-pitched and needy, nodding quickly, “Please, mama.”

A curse fell from your swollen rosebud at the sound of his despair — your hand enveloping around his length beneath his bottoms.

“Oh, my Lord.”

He was done for — head falling back against the plush of the sofa, eyes rolled to his skull as the pleasure washed over him. You wasted no time in pleasing the man beneath you, never once stopping rocking your hips against him, as you slowly stroked him.

The scene was erotic — a dirty array of arousal in the way he bucked his hips unapologetically into your hand, cock throbbing under your palm, as you continued to hump the meat of this thigh, your slick staining the blue denim that had trickled from your soaked panties. It was enough for him — no direct physical contact, but just the right amount of pleasure to satisfy you both.

When your thumb swiped over the oozing head of his cock, Michael lost it. Whining so loud like he didn’t care who heard — the sudden boldness depleting faster than it had come around, now replaced by uncontrollable desperation.

“O-Oh, s-shit,” The curse fell from his mouth before he could suppress it, “G-Gonna cum, lovey.” His hips now fucking up into your hand pathetically, chasing a high he’d been yearning for for so long.

In your own state of blinding pleasure, your only response was a melodic whimper, his tensing thigh hitting the ridge of your clit that had your own orgasm building. Michael, with no prior warning, came with a cry, his milky white release soaking the material of his boxers — the neediest whines of lust filling the room. You soon followed — an exclaim of his name hitting his ears, only furthering his pleasure, as you came undone on his thigh, humping him at such a speed you were almost a blur in his glassy vision.

Michael heaved as he came down from a high that had been lingering on his mind since the moment you met him — an orgasm so strong he was twitching uncontrollably. You stilled against his leg, catching your breath simultaneously, peering down at his fucked out state.

“Thank you, pretty.”

“Ah, ah, I’m not done with you yet.”

Michael swore he died and went to heaven as you dropped to your knees beneath him — eyes hungry and dark, agenda unclear to him.

It was only when you lay your tongue flat against the rough of his jeans, the ones you had once fucked yourself on, licking up your essence that clad the denim, that Michael realised how much of a sex-hungry slut you were. The tang of your seeping arousal lingered on your tongue as you lapped up the mess you’d made on him — glancing up at him through your lashes at his knitted eyebrows and agape mouth. His suspicion that you were a cock-slut only deepening as you retracted your tongue back into your mouth, savouring the taste of yourself, and kissed your way up his leg, getting dangerously close to where he was pulsating.

“Mama, I—“ “Shhh, just gonna clean y’up, baby.”

Michael saw stars when you shoved his pyjama bottoms down his thighs and latched your greedy mouth to the wet spot that clad his boxers, a crackled groan ripping from his throat as you hummed around him. Your lips, settling right against the softening tip of his cock, suckled the cum straight from the cotton — his salty release flooding your tastebuds, colliding with the tang of your own essence in a delicious blaze on your tongue. His hand flew down to cradle your cheek as you lapped up the cum that stained him — his cock throbbing once more as your hands gripped his thighs, jeans now even more wet from your eager mouth.

“Baby—fuck, I-I’m gonn—“ With a strangled cry, another irrepressible spurt of cum shot from him once more, hands tightening ever so slightly around your flushed cheek as you greedily sucked up what he blessed you with — lapping up his second orgasm like you were dying of thirst.

Only when you pulled away, satisfied with your salty refreshment, did Michael’s breathing level out — blissed out expression meeting your devilish one.

And he knew — he had never loved you more.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ever since the four of them became inseparable, life had been a non-stop blur of shared closets, inside jokes, and endless group chats. the three sisters felt less like friends and more like a second family to her, the kind of bond where she could walk into their house without knocking. whether they were doing late-night drive-thrus, cramming for exams together, or just gossiping on their bedroom floor, they were her absolute safe haven.

so, when they called her to pack a bag for an official, old-school sleepover, she didn't hesitate.

the moment she knocked on their front door, it swung open before she could even drop her duffel bag. all three sisters were already waiting in the entryway, a chaotic flurry of matching oversized hoodies and messy buns. a deafening chorus of squeals and high-pitched "oh my god, you're finally here!" echoed through the hall as they instantly pulled her into a massive, suffocating group hug. the energy in the house was instantly magnetic and bubbling over with excitement. music was already blasting faintly from upstairs, the warm scent of freshly baked cookies drifted from the kitchen, and pillows were scattered all over the living room floor. they immediately grabbed her hands, dragging her inside while talking all at once about the movies they were going to watch, completely ready for the perfect night in.

"oh my god, finally!" latoya squealed, practically ripping the duffel bag out of her hands the second she stepped through the door. "we've been waiting for literally hours, i swear Janet was about to eat the raw cookie dough."

"i was not!" janet yelled from the top of the stairs, running down in her oversized sweatshirt and nearly slipping on the hardwood floor. she threw her arms around her, squeezing tight. "ignore her. i'm so glad you're here. we have so much to talk about, you have no idea."

rebbie walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel with a huge smile on her face. "okay girls, let her breathe first! but seriously, come inside. the kitchen is fully stocked, the blankets are already set up in the room, and we are not sleeping until at least four am."

"more like five," latoya corrected, linking her arm through hers and pulling her toward the stairs. "come on, let's go put your stuff in my room. we need to pick out which pajamas you're wearing tonight, i bought matching ones for all of us!"

she followed latoya up the stairs, the familiar wooden steps creaking beneath their feet as janet trailed closely behind, already buzzing about the playlist she had spent the last two hours curating. the warmth of the house wrapped around her like a blanket, completely erasing whatever stress she had carried in with her.

"wait, wait, wait," janet said, catching up to them at the top of the landing and gently grabbing her shoulder to spin her around. "before we even look at the pajamas, you have to tell us everything. did you see him today? did he say anything?"

latoya tossed the duffel bag onto her unmade bed and spun around, her eyes wide with instant anticipation. "oh my god, yes! please tell me there is tea. i've been dying for an update all week."

she couldn't help but laugh, feeling her cheeks flush slightly under their intense, eager gazes. before she could even answer, rebbie walked into the bedroom holding a giant bowl of warm popcorn, looking at her two younger sisters with an amused shake of her head.

"let her sit down first, you two are like vultures," rebbie teased, though she quickly set the bowl on the nightstand and sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, leaning in. "but seriously... spill. we want details."

she giggled, kicking off her socks and hopping onto the bed, curling her legs underneath her. "ugh okay, okay, fine! so, i was walking down the hallway earlier, right? and he was just standing there by his locker, looking ridiculously handsome as usual. and then, out of nowhere, he actually looked up, smiled right at me, and said hi."

"no way!" janet gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth as she leaned in closer. "did he just say hi, or was it like... a meaningful hi?"

"it was totally a meaningful hi," latoya insisted, nodding her head vigorously. "i'm telling you, he definitely has a crush on her. the vibe is so obvious."

outside in the hallway, michael was just walking past the half-open bedroom door, holding a glass of juice. hearing the sudden burst of high-pitched squeals and his sisters' frantic whispering, he paused. he leaned his shoulder against the wall for just two seconds, a quiet, amused smirk growing on his face as he listened to them completely over-analyze the whole interaction.

"i swear, you guys are making a big deal out of nothing," she blushed, tossing a piece of popcorn at latoya. "he was probably just being polite! and i don’t even like him !"

michael shook his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud at how dramatic his sisters were being. before anyone could notice him standing there, he quietly stepped away from the door and headed back downstairs, leaving the girls to their endless gossip.

"okay, enough gossip for a second, we need to get into character," latoya declared, jumping up from the bed and throwing open her closet doors. "pajama time!"

she and janet started rummaging through the shelves, tossing pairs of silk, flannel, and oversized t-shirts onto the floor. "wait, where is that new set we bought last week?" janet asked, digging through a drawer. "the one we said would look absolutely perfect on her?"

"oh, i found it!" latoya squealed, pulling out a matching set from the very back.

she handed it over, and when she held it up, her eyes widened. it was an incredibly cute, soft pastel-colored set, but the shorts were definitely on the shorter side, and the matching camisole top had dainty little lace edges.

"oh my god, yes! it's literally so adorable," janet gasped, clapping her hands together. "you have to wear this one tonight, it's going to look so cute on you!"

rebbie looked over from the bed and laughed, nodding in agreement. "it really is super cute. go try it on in the bathroom, let's see!"

she held the soft fabric in her hands, feeling a little shy but completely loving how pretty it was. "alright, alright, i'll go change," she said, giggling as she grabbed the tiny pajama set and headed out into the hallway toward the bathroom.

she slipped into the bathroom and quickly changed, checking her reflection in the mirror. the fabric was incredibly soft, and the pastel color looked absolutely perfect against her skin. when she turned around to look at the shorts, she realized they were definitely a little shorter than what she usually wore, hugging her curves perfectly, while the lace camisole top sat delicately on her shoulders. it was the perfect mix of super cute and a little bit playful. she unlocked the door and stepped back into the bedroom, feeling a tiny bit shy but smiling.

the moment she walked in, latoya and janet literally stopped what they were doing and gasped.

"oh my god, stop it right now!" janet squealed, jumping off the bed. "it looks even better than I thought it would! it fits you perfectly!"

"i knew it!" latoya cheered, clapping her hands and doing a little victory dance. "it is so incredibly cute on you! look at you, you look amazing!"

rebbie smiled warmly, nodding in total agreement. "it really does look gorgeous on you. see? i told you it would suit you perfectly. now come sit back down, we need to pick the first movie!"

"okay, fine, i'll keep them on," she giggled, smoothing down the soft fabric of her shorts. "but before we start any movie, i'm going to grab some more popcorn from the kitchen. we're already almost out."

"good idea, bring the soda too!" janet called out as she curled up under a pile of blankets.

she stepped out of the bedroom and back into the quiet hallway. the house was peaceful compared to the chaotic energy upstairs, with only the dim lights illuminating her way down the stairs. her bare feet made no sound against the wooden steps as she made her way toward the kitchen, completely unaware of anything else, just focused on grabbing the snacks for their perfect night in.

she stepped into the brightly lit kitchen, her bare feet padding softly against the cold linoleum floor. the room was quiet, a stark contrast to the giggly chaos upstairs. she walked over to the counter, reaching for the bag of popcorn kernels, completely unaware that she wasn't alone.

when she turned around, her heart skipped a beat.

michael was standing by the refrigerator, holding a glass of ice water. he had been in the middle of taking a sip, but the moment his eyes landed on her, he paused, his eyes widening just a fraction in sheer surprise.

the kitchen suddenly felt incredibly small, the air thick with an instant, unexpected wave of tension. michael’s gaze drifted down, taking in the sight of her in the pastel pajamas. the short shorts fully exposed her legs, and the delicate lace camisole sat softly against her collarbones, making her look both incredibly sweet and devastatingly pretty. a sudden, genuine blush crept up michael's own neck, his throat going completely dry as he quickly looked back up, looking incredibly flustered by the sight.

a soft, warm flush crept up her neck and rushed into her cheeks as well. she suddenly felt hyper-aware of how short the pajamas actually were, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"oh... hey, michael," she murmured, her voice a little softer and breathier than she intended, breaking the quiet stillness of the room.

michael slowly lowered his glass, his hand shaking just a tiny bit as he tried to clear his throat. a shy, slightly nervous smile played at the corner of his lips, completely replacing his usual composure. his voice was deep and smooth, but had a soft, hesitant edge to it that sent a tiny shiver down her spine. "hey. i thought you guys were upstairs planning a movie marathon."

"we are," she said, holding the popcorn bowl in front of her like a shield, though it didn't do much to hide how perfectly the fabric hugged her waist. "i just... came down to get some more snacks. we ran out."

"i see," michael murmured, taking a slow, almost cautious step forward to place his glass on the counter. he closed the distance between them just enough for her to catch the faint, clean scent of his cologne, though his eyes nervously flicked away for a second before locking back onto hers. he held her gaze with an intense, quiet curiosity that made her breath catch in her throat. "those are... nice pajamas. are they new?"

her cheeks burned even hotter. "um, yeah. latoya and janet picked them out for me."

"well," michael replied, his voice dropping a pitch, his fingers nervously tapping against the counter as a heavy, passive undertone filled the space between them. his eyes flicked down to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again, his shy smile widening just a fraction as his own cheeks turned a light pink. "they have good taste. it suits you really well."

"thanks," she whispered, completely trapped under his gaze, the unspoken tension between them practically vibrating in the quiet kitchen.

michael let the silence stretch for one more intoxicating second, looking completely captivated and a little breathless himself, before he finally broke the spell. he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief, electric moment as he tapped the side of her popcorn bowl, his gaze dropping shyly. "you better get back upstairs before they come looking for you. janet gets impatient."

"right. yeah," she breathed, giving him a shy, lingering smile as she quickly turned to head back to the stairs, her heart racing a mile a minute while his eyes softly followed her all the way out of the room.

michael walked down the hallway toward his own bedroom, the cold glass of water in his hand completely forgotten as his mind replayed the scene in the kitchen over and over again.

he couldn't shake the image of her standing under the warm kitchen lights. the sight of her in those pastel pajamas had completely caught him off guard, making his heart do a strange, sudden flip in his chest. a deep, intense blush rushed right back into his cheeks in the dark just thinking about how those short shorts had highlighted the soft curves of her legs, and he quickly covered his face with his hands, feeling incredibly flustered.

"oh god, michael, stop it," he muttered to himself, taking a deep, shaky breath.

he knew he shouldn't be thinking about her like that. she was his sisters' absolute best friend, practically a part of the family, and she was only upstairs for a fun, innocent sleepover. it felt so wrong to have his mind racing over how pretty she looked or how delicate the lace on her top was. he climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over his shoulders, determined to just close his eyes and force himself to think about literally anything else.

but the harder he tried to ignore it, the more his mind kept drifting back to the kitchen. he replayed the way her voice had gotten all soft and nervous when she whispered his name, and how his own hands had been slightly shaking when he set his glass down. he rolled over, burying his face in his pillow with a quiet, frustrated groan. he was completely captivated, and no matter how much his shy, guilty conscience told him to stop, his heart was still pounding a mile a minute at the memory of her lingering smile.

back upstairs, the bedroom doors slammed shut behind her, and the quiet, tense atmosphere of the hallway instantly vanished, swallowed whole by the explosion of pure energy waiting for her inside.

"finally! what took you so long, did you have to grow the corn yourself?" janet teased, immediately grabbing the popcorn bowl from her hands and setting it in the middle of the bed.

"i just... got lost in thought, sorry," she stammered, her heart still hammering against her ribs as she quickly crawled back into the mountain of blankets and pillows.

she shook her head hard, desperately trying to blink away the image of michael’s blushing face, the deep warmth of his voice, and the way his fingers had brushed against hers. it was crazy. he was her best friends' brother, and it had just been an awkward accident in the kitchen. she needed to completely drop it and focus on the night.

"okay, no more waiting! music first, then movies!" latoya cranked up the volume on the stereo, and the room instantly transformed into a private concert.

within seconds, the four of them were jumping up and down on the mattress, screaming the lyrics to their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. rebbie was using a hairbrush as a microphone, while janet and latoya tried to teach her a completely chaotic, improvised dance routine that had everyone laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. whenever they paused to catch their breath, they would dive back into the blankets, shoving handfuls of popcorn into their mouths and talking over each other about gossip, boys, and endless inside jokes.

every single time michael's face popped into her head, she would laugh a little louder, dance a little harder, or throw a pillow at janet just to force herself to stay in the zone. she was surrounded by her absolute favorite people, the room was buzzing with perfect, loud energy, and she was determined to just lose herself in the fun and completely forget about the breathless tension downstairs.

meanwhile, in his own bedroom, michael was still tossing and turning under his covers, the distant sound of his sisters' music and muffled laughter vibrating through the floorboards. he stared up at the ceiling, but his mind wasn't just stuck on how pretty she had looked in those pastel pajamas anymore.

a completely different thought suddenly hit him, making him sit straight up in bed.

he remembered what he had overheard just an hour earlier when he was standing outside the girls' bedroom door. he vividly recalled his sisters squealing and giggling, and her soft, blushing voice saying, "he actually looked up, smiled right at me, and said hi."

michael's chest tightened a little bit at the memory. a wave of nervous curiosity washed over him as he leaned his chin on his knees, staring into the dark room. who exactly were they talking about? who was the guy by the locker?

he started over-analyzing everything, his naturally shy and overthinking mind going into overdrive. he wondered if this mystery guy was her actual crush, or if she was secretly in love with someone from school. the mere thought of her smiling at another boy the way she had just smiled at him in the kitchen made a strange, unfamiliar spark of jealousy twist in his stomach.

he let out a soft, frustrated sigh, burying his face in his hands. he hated that he was caring this much, especially since she was his sisters' best friend, but he couldn't help it. he just kept wondering if her heart already belonged to someone else, or if the intense, breathless tension they had just shared downstairs meant that maybe, just maybe, he was the one actually catching her attention.

hours later, the wild energy in the bedroom finally started to mellow down. the loud music had been turned off, replaced by the soft, low hum of a movie playing on the television screen, casting flickering shadows across the walls.

the chaotic dancing and singing had completely exhausted them. janet was already half-asleep, curled up like a ball at the foot of the bed with a fluffy blanket pulled up to her chin, her eyes blinking heavily at the screen. rebbie was leaned back against a mountain of pillows, letting out a soft yawn as she lazily reached into the almost empty bowl for the last few crumbs of popcorn.

she sat cross-legged next to latoya, who was fighting a losing battle against her own eyelids, her head nodding off every few seconds. the heavy blanket felt incredibly warm and cozy over her legs, and the exhaustion from all the laughing and jumping was finally catching up to her too.

every once in a while, as the room fell into a peaceful, sleepy quiet, her eyes would drift toward the closed bedroom door. now that the noise had died down, the memory of michael in the kitchen began to sneak its way back into her thoughts. she wondered if he was already asleep downstairs, or if he was still awake, completely oblivious to how much her heart was still reacting to that brief, breathless moment. but with latoya softly snoring next to her, she just let her head sink deeper into the pillow, letting the cozy tiredness finally take over.

no matter how much she tried to let the cozy tiredness take over, sleep just wouldn't come. every time she closed her eyes, her mind instantly dragged her back to the kitchen, replaying the soft, deep pitch of michael's voice and the quiet, breathless look in his eyes. the bedroom felt suddenly suffocatingly warm under the heavy blankets, and her skin felt entirely too hot against the soft pastel fabric of her pajamas.

carefully, so she wouldn't wake up janet or latoya, she slid out from under the covers. her bare feet touched the cool floor, giving her a small rush of relief.

she quietly slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her until it clicked shut with barely a sound. the hallway was pitch black and completely still, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the window at the end of the hall. she padded softly down the corridor, her heart doing a nervous little flutter as she approached the bathroom—which was located directly across from michael's bedroom door.

she gently pushed the bathroom door open and stepped inside, leaving it a jar so she wouldn't make noise with the lock. twisting the faucet, she let the cold water run over her wrists before splashing a bit of it onto her face and neck to cool down her flushed skin. resting her hands on the edge of the sink, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the dim light, completely unaware of the shadow moving just across the hall.

inside his room, michael was staring blankly at his bedroom ceiling, still wide awake. the house had fallen completely silent hours ago, but his mind was still spinning in circles, completely unable to settle down.

then, through the quiet stillness of the night, he caught a faint sound. it was the soft creak of a floorboard right outside his room, followed by the quiet, distinct hiss of running water coming from the bathroom just across the hall.

michael sat up instantly, his heart doing a sudden, nervous leap against his ribs. he knew his sisters were exhausted and probably fast asleep by now, which meant it had to be her.

he sat on the edge of his mattress, his hands gripping the sheets as a heavy wave of shyness and hesitation washed over him. a part of him wanted to just stay in bed and ignore it, too nervous to face her again after how intense things had felt in the kitchen. but another part of him—the part that had been overthinking all night—wondered if she was okay, or if she needed something.

should he go out there? what if he made things weird?

he took a deep, quiet breath, his heart pounding in his ears. slowly, nervously, he slid his feet onto the cool floor, hesitating for one more long second before he finally stood up, quietly stepping toward his bedroom door to see if he should check on her.

he realized he couldn't just sit there anymore. his own skin felt completely flushed and hot from all the restless tossing and turning, and he desperately needed some cold water to clear his head and cool down.

taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, michael quietly turned the doorknob and stepped out into the dark hallway, wearing just his loose t-shirt and pajama pants.

but the exact moment he crossed the threshold of his bedroom, he froze.

she had just stepped out of the bathroom at that very second, and they ended up standing barely a foot away from each other, completely trapping her between the bathroom door and his own room. the hallway was narrow and cast in deep, silvery moonlight, making the sudden closeness feel incredibly intense.

michael's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes instantly widening as his hands instinctively gripped the sides of his doorframe. in the dim light, the sight of her in those short, lace-trimmed pajamas took his breath away all over again, especially with her skin still glistening slightly from the cold water. a heavy, suffocating wave of shy tension instantly locked them both in place, neither of them moving a muscle as they stared at each other in the absolute quiet of the night.

the silence in the narrow hallway was so loud she could practically hear the rapid thumping of her own heart. she stood completely frozen, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, while michael stood in his doorway, looking just as stunned and incredibly flustered.

"oh..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath in the quiet night. "i... i didn't mean to wake you up."

"you didn't," michael replied quickly, his voice dropping to a very soft, hesitant murmur. he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes shifting down to the floor for a second before drifting back up to her face. "i was... i couldn't sleep either. it's really warm tonight."

"yeah," she agreed, shifting her weight shyly from one foot to the other, acutely aware of how close they were standing. "i just came to splash some cold water on my face."

"me too," he said, a tiny, genuine smile breaking through his nervousness. he took a half-step back, creating just a bit of space, though his gaze remained totally locked onto hers. "are you... are you okay? you looked a little distracted upstairs earlier."

her cheeks instantly burned, grateful for the dim moonlight hiding her deep blush. "i'm fine. just... thinking about things."

michael let out a very soft, quiet breath that sounded almost like a sigh, his fingers nervously tapping against the doorframe. he bit his lip, his shy nature making him hesitate before he spoke again, his voice lower and full of that heavy, passive tension from earlier. "were you... thinking about the kitchen?"

her breath caught in her throat. she didn't expect him to be so direct, especially since he looked so shy. "maybe," she whispered, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "were you?"

michael's own cheeks turned a dark pink, and he looked down with a small, breathless chuckle, completely captivated. "yeah," he admitted softly, his dark eyes meeting hers again with total honesty. "i was. i couldn't get it out of my head, actually."

the confession hung heavily in the air between them, making the space feel warmer than before. they just stood there for a long moment, completely trapped in the quiet intimacy of the hallway, neither of them quite ready to break the spell and go back to bed.

the tension in the hallway suddenly became so thick you could have cut it with a knife. the simple confession that they had been thinking about each other shifted the entire atmosphere. it was no longer just awkward shyness; it was pure, electric, and palpable energy that made both of their hearts race at a completely frantic pace.

michael took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward, stepping completely out of his room. the movement was purely instinctual, driven by an invisible magnetic pull drawing them closer. in the dead silence of the night, the sound of their breathing—now a little shorter and heavier—echoed like an intimate secret between them.

his large, dark eyes, usually so reserved, held an intense warmth under the silvery moonlight. he didn't break eye contact for a single second. his gaze slowly drifted down her face, lingering for a fraction of a second on her lips, before sliding down to the delicate lace of her pajama top. every single second felt incredibly heavy, charged with unsaid words.

she felt completely hypnotized, unable to move an inch. her skin, which had just been cooled by the water, was burning up all over again under his gaze. she could literally feel the warmth radiating off his body, standing so close that she could have easily reached out and touched his chest. her fingers nervously gripped the soft fabric of her shorts, a sudden rush of goosebumps chilling her arms.

michael ran a nervous hand through his curls, but his eyes never left hers. he tilted his head down just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper that hovered only inches away from her face.

"i... i should probably let you go back to the room," he breathed, though his feet didn't move an inch. instead, his right hand came up to rest gently against the wall just above her shoulder, subtly trapping her in his space. "but i really don't want you to."

the undertone was so heavy, so loaded with a quiet, shared desire that the air completely left her lungs. they stood there, just a heartbeat away from each other, suspended in that delicious, forbidden mini tension right in front of the bedroom where his sisters were fast asleep.

she couldn't even form a proper reply. her throat felt completely dry, and her eyes darted down to his lips for a brief, agonizing second before snapping back up to meet his intense gaze. the fact that he was usually so quiet and gentle made this sudden boldness absolutely intoxicating.

michael's breathing hitched when he noticed her glance down at his mouth. his hand on the wall trembled ever so slightly, his knuckles brushing against a stray lock of her hair. he was fighting his own overwhelming shyness, his heart hammering so loudly against his ribs he was sure she could hear it in the quiet hallway. he wanted to lean in closer—he desperately wanted to—but the sheer intensity of the moment had him completely paralyzed with nerves.

"michael..." she finally whispered, her voice cracking just a little. she reached out instinctively, her fingers lightly gripping the hem of his loose t-shirt just to steady herself.

the tiny touch shot like electricity straight through him. michael let out a soft, shaky gasp, his eyes widening slightly before darkening with a heavy, uncharacteristic wave of hunger. he leaned down a fraction of an inch more, his face now so close to hers that she could feel the warm breath from his lips brushing against her skin. the scent of his clean cologne completely wrapped around her senses, making her dizzy.

they were both completely terrified of breaking the rules, completely aware that his sisters were just a few yards away, but the magnetic pull between them was overriding everything else. every cell in their bodies was screaming at them to close the tiny gap left between them.

michael slowly lowered his gaze to her lips again, his head tilting naturally as he began to lean in, his movements slow and agonizingly hesitant, giving her every chance to pull away. instead, she leaned her head back against the wall, tilting her chin up to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut in absolute anticipation as they stood on the exact precipice of their very first kiss.

the space between them completely evaporated as his lips finally, gently touched hers.

it was a soft, incredibly hesitant brush of fabric and breath. because it was their very first time, the kiss was filled with a beautiful, shaky innocence. michael’s lips were unbelievably soft, pressing against hers with a quiet, careful reverence, as if he were terrified of rushing her or waking the entire house.

a tiny, breathless gasp slipped from her mouth at the contact, and michael used that exact second to deepen the kiss just a fraction. his movements were slow and agonizingly sweet. he didn't lean in with a wild, practiced confidence; instead, his lips parted slightly, moving against hers with a shy, tentative curiosity that made her knees go completely weak.

her fingers tightened around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him just a millimeter closer. that tiny encouragement was all he needed. michael let out a low, shaky sigh into the kiss, his heart hammering wildly against her chest. the hand that had been resting on the wall slowly slid down, his long, slender fingers trembling slightly as they gently brushed against the side of her neck, his thumb resting right over her racing pulse point.

the kiss was sweet, slow, and completely intoxicated by their mutual shyness. every time their lips moved together, it felt like a quiet conversation, a shared secret in the dark hallway. when he finally, slowly pulled back just an inch, his lips lingered for one last, teasing second before he opened his eyes.

michael was completely breathless, his cheeks flushed a deep, dark pink in the moonlight. he kept his hand resting softly against her neck, his dark eyes looking down at her with a mixture of awe, nerves, and absolute captivation, neither of them knowing exactly what to say after the spell they had just broken.

the heavy silence returned to the hallway, but it felt entirely different now. the shy, breathless rush of the kiss hung in the air, leaving them both standing completely frozen, staring at each other with wide, wide-awake eyes.

it was completely obvious that neither of them was going back to sleep anytime soon. their adrenaline was pumping way too fast, and the absolute electricity between them had shattered any chance of tiredness. but because they were both so naturally shy, they just stood there in the dim moonlight, shifting nervously, completely at a loss for words. michael’s hand slowly slipped from her neck, his fingers nervously curling into his palm as his face burned a deep crimson. he looked down, then back up, biting his lip as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to break the ice.

the awkward, beautiful tension was building up again, and the fear of one of his sisters cracking open their bedroom door at any second was starting to become overwhelming.

suddenly, caught up in a sudden, bold rush of adrenaline, she didn't even think.

before her nerves could stop her, she reached out, her hands flattening against michael's chest. with a quick, decisive shove, she pushed him backward right into his own bedroom. michael let out a soft, surprised gasp, his long legs stumbling back a couple of steps into the dark room as he completely lost his balance for a split second.

she quickly stepped inside right behind him, grabbed the edge of his bedroom door, and pulled it shut until it clicked softly into place.

the room plunged into near-total darkness, save for the faint moonlight cutting through his window blinds. they were now completely isolated from the rest of the house, locked together in his private space, and michael’s jaw dropped just a fraction in sheer, flustered shock at how fast she had just taken control of the situation.

michael was completely frozen in the middle of his room, his back against the edge of his desk where he had stumbled. his eyes were wide, staring at her through the shadows as she leaned back against the closed door, her hands still resting on the doorknob. the click of the lock felt incredibly loud in the silence of his bedroom.

"oh god," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as the sudden rush of bravery completely drained out of her, leaving her entirely flustered. "i'm sorry... i just... i thought i heard someone moving upstairs, and i panicked."

michael didn't say anything for a long second, his throat completely dry. the darkness of the room amplified everything—the sound of their heavy breathing, the faint scent of his cologne, and the absolute reality that she was now in his room, wearing those pastel pajamas, with the door shut.

slowly, he let out a soft, shaky breath, his shoulders dropping as a tiny, incredibly shy smile broke across his face. "it's... it's okay," he murmured, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety pitch that always made her knees weak. he took a cautious step forward, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet. "you just... you caught me off guard."

"are you mad?" she asked, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked up at him through the dark.

"mad?" michael let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks burned a dark crimson. "no. no, i'm not mad at all. i'm just... really glad you're in here."

he stopped just a foot away from her, the familiar, intoxicating closeness from the hallway returning instantly. but here, behind closed doors, the tension felt different. it was safer, more intimate, but twice as intense. michael nervously reached out, his long fingers hesitating in the air for a fraction of a second before he gently took her hand, his palm warm and slightly damp from his own nerves.

"my heart is beating so fast right now," he whispered honestly, his eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. he guided her slowly away from the door, toward the edge of his bed, his shyness still completely visible in the way he kept biting his lip, yet he wasn't letting go of her hand. "sit with me? just... so we can talk. without having to hide in the hallway."

she nodded softly, letting him guide her across the room. every single step felt like they were walking on eggshells, the mutual shyness making the air between them thick and heavy again.

they sat down on the edge of his mattress at the exact same time. but because they were both so incredibly nervous and caught up in the rush of the moment, they didn't calculate the distance right—they sat down so close that their thighs were completely pressed together.

the contact sent a literal jolt of electricity through both of them. michael stiffened slightly, his breath hitching audibly in the dark room, but he didn't move away. not even a millimeter.

he was sitting so close that she could feel the intense, radiating heat coming off his body, completely wrapping around her. the scent of his skin was overwhelming. michael’s hands were resting on his knees, his long fingers twitching nervously as he stared down at them, his face burning a deep, dark crimson that he tried to hide by tilting his head down.

"i... i've never felt like this before," michael whispered into the shadows, his voice so low and velvety it was barely audible. he slowly turned his head to look at her, their faces now only inches apart because of how close they were sitting.

his dark eyes were wide, glittering with a mix of absolute vulnerability and pure desire. he nervously swallowed, his gaze dropping down to her lips for a lingering, heavy second before snapping back to her eyes. she could see his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. the sheer physical closeness was intoxicating; she could feel the exact rhythm of his racing heart vibrating right next to her, and the urge to close that tiny, remaining gap between their lips was driving them both completely crazy.

the suffocating silence between them stretched on, heavy and electric, until michael finally broke it. he cleared his throat, a tiny, nervous sound, and slowly shifted his gaze away from her face, his eyes drifting down to her lap before traveling up the pastel fabric of her pajamas.

"i, um..." he started, his voice cracking slightly before he dropped it into a quiet, breathless murmur. he rubbed the back of his neck, his knuckles practically brushing against her shoulder because of how close they were sitting. "i couldn't help but notice your... your pajamas earlier. in the hallway."

she felt her face instantly flush hot all over again. "oh. really?"

"yeah," michael whispered, a beautiful, incredibly shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson. he looked down at his own hands, his long fingers nervously wrapping around each other. "they're... they're really pretty on you. the pastel color, and the lace... it's just really delicate. you look beautiful."

he looked back up through his eyelashes, his dark eyes wide and completely sincere, filled with that raw vulnerability that always took her breath away. he nervously bit his lower lip, his gaze dropping to her lips before snapping back to her eyes.

"when you were standing under the moonlight out there," he confessed, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper that was meant only for the two of them, "with the water still a little wet on your skin... i just completely forgot how to breathe. i couldn't look away."

her breath completely hitched in her throat at his words. the sweet confession made the air in the room feel twice as warm, and the intense closeness between them became completely unbearable.

neither of them could take the distance anymore.

slowly, almost magnetically, michael started to tilt his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a quiet, undeniable intensity. he didn't rush; his movements were slow, hesitant, and completely filled with that deep, agonizing shyness that made every millimeter feel like an eternity. his face began to inch closer to hers, his warm, shallow breaths now directly brushing against her cheek, sending a frantic rush of goosebumps down her neck.

she didn't pull away. instead, she leaned forward just a fraction, her eyes mirroring the exact same heavy desire.

as their faces drew closer and closer, the extreme proximity was intoxicating. michael’s gaze drifted down to her lips, his lower lip trembling slightly as he nervously bit it before letting it go. his right hand, still resting on his knee, slowly slid across the mattress, his long, slender fingers trembling as they brushed against the side of her thigh, silently seeking her support.

they were so close now that the tips of their noses gently grazed against each other in the dark room. the absolute electricity between them was popping, their frantic heartbeats practically melting into one wild rhythm as they hovered just a single breath away from each other, completely trapped in the beautiful, suffocating tension.

the tiny gap between them completely vanished as their lips met for the second time, but the hesitation from before was gone, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming wave of shared desire.

the kiss started soft, but as the intense tension finally broke, it deepened instantly. their mutual shyness was still there, but it was being completely overridden by a frantic, breathless curiosity.

for the very first time, their hands couldn't stay still.

michael let out a low, shaky gasp into her mouth as his right hand finally left the mattress. his long, slender fingers trembled as they slid up her arm, his palm burning hot against her bare skin before wrapping gently around the back of her neck. his fingers tangled directly into her hair, gripping it softly to pull her closer, while his other hand came up to rest flat against her waist, his thumb tracing the soft fabric of her pajama top. the sudden, intimate touch sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down his spine.

she couldn't help herself either. her hands slid up his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy thumping of his heart, before her fingers wrapped around his shoulders and slid up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down into the kiss.

because it was their absolute first time experiencing something this intense, the sheer physical sensation left them both completely stupefied.

when their lips finally parted for air, they didn't pull away completely. they stayed hovered just an inch apart, their foreheads resting against each other, both of them completely breathless and dazed. michael’s dark eyes fluttered open, wide and filled with absolute wonder and a trace of beautiful shock. his hand was still resting on her waist, his fingers twitching slightly as if he couldn't believe he was actually allowed to touch her like this. they just stared at each other in the dim moonlight, completely stunned and utterly captivated by the realization of what they had just done.

the heat in the room completely boiled over as their lips crashed together again. this time, the polite, tentative boundaries they had kept up out of sheer shyness completely dissolved.

michael let out a soft, defeated groan against her mouth, entirely giving up his usual hesitation. instead of trying to control his nerves, he completely surrendered to the moment, letting her take the lead as his long fingers gripped her waist a little tighter, silently begging her not to stop.

driven by a sudden, intoxicating rush of adrenaline, she didn't even think about her next move. it was entirely instinctual.

she shifted her weight forward, her body naturally following the momentum of the kiss. as she leaned into him, michael's shoulders began to give way, tilting backward onto the mattress. she kept her lips locked onto his, crawling forward until she was completely hovering over him, her knees sliding to either side of his hips until she was sitting directly on his lap.

with one final, breathless tilt of his head, michael collapsed completely flat onto his back beneath her.

the transition was seamless and utterly dizzying. michael lay stretched out on the bed, completely pinned beneath her smaller frame, his chest heaving up and down in short, frantic gasps. his dark curls were scattered wildly across his pillow, and his face was a deep, burning crimson in the shadows. his hands had slid from her waist down to her thighs, his fingers trembling violently against her skin as he looked up at her from below, his large eyes wide with a mixture of absolute shock, submission, and total captivation at how completely she had just taken over.

the kiss turned deeper, heavier, and completely consuming. with her sitting directly on his lap, every single point of contact between their bodies was magnified a thousand times over. the initial shock of the position faded, leaving behind a raw, suffocating wave of heat that filled the tiny space between them.

as she shifted slightly against him, her body pressing closer to his hips, she suddenly froze into the kiss.

right beneath her, through the thin, soft layers of their pajama fabric, she could clearly feel that michael was hard. the undeniable physical proof of his excitement was pressed directly against her, firm and burning hot.

michael let out a sharp, choked gasp straight into her mouth, his entire body going completely rigid beneath her. a deep, dark flush instantly rushed from his neck all the way up to his cheeks, turning his face a violent shade of crimson in the shadows. he was so naturally shy that the sudden realization that she could feel everything completely paralyzed him with an intense, beautiful embarrassment.

his hands, which had been resting on her thighs, gripped her fabric tightly, his long fingers trembling violently. he didn't try to move away—he couldn't even if he wanted to—but his eyes fluttered open, wide and dark, looking up at her from the pillow with a mixture of absolute vulnerability, shock, and a quiet, pleading desire that showed just how deeply she was driving him completely crazy.

the heavy, electric atmosphere in the room completely shifted as the initial shock faded into pure, unadulterated instinct.

michael lay pinned beneath her, his chest heaving with every frantic breath, his heart hammering so loudly she could feel it vibrating against her own ribs. the intense shyness that usually paralyzed him suddenly morphed into a quiet, desperate boldness. he couldn't just lie there anymore; the feel of her body pressed directly against his excitement was driving him completely out of his mind.

slowly, his long, slender fingers tightened their grip on her hips, his palms burning hot against the fabric of her shorts.

with a soft, shaky gasp into the kiss, michael slightly arched his back. his hands guided her waist, gently pulling her forward and then pushing down, forcing her to slide just an inch over him. the friction of their bodies rubbing together through the thin pajama fabric was so sudden and intensely sharp that a loud, breathless moan escaped her throat, echoing softly in the dark bedroom.

michael let out a deep, choked groan against her lips at the sound, completely losing his grip on his restraint.

his hips moved again, this time a little more fluidly, a little more demanding, as he began to dictate the slow, heavy rhythm beneath her. he kept his eyes locked onto hers, wide and dark with a wild, vulnerable hunger, watching her reaction in the dim moonlight. every tiny, calculated movement he made forced her to grind directly against his hardness, sending violent jolts of electricity straight down both of their spines and destroying whatever little innocence they had left.

she completely gave in, letting his hands completely control the slow, heavy rhythm of her hips. every single time he guided her to slide down against him, the intense friction against his hardness sent a sharp, intoxicating wave of pleasure straight through her core.

the sensation was so overwhelming that a loud, breathless whimper started to climb up her throat. desperate to keep quiet and terrified of making too much noise in the house, she quickly bit down hard on her own lower lip, trying to stifle the sound as her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut.

michael noticed instantly. his dark eyes widened, staring up at her through the shadows, completely mesmerized and driven crazy by the sight of her biting her lip to hold back her groans. his hands tightened on her waist, his thumbs digging into her skin as he arched his hips up one more time, making her grind directly against him.

"m-michael..." she gasped out, her voice trembling and completely breathless as she looked down at him, her hands clutching his shoulders for support. "what... what are you doing?"

michael let out a deep, broken sigh, his head rolling back slightly against the pillow. his face was burning a dark, violent crimson, and his chest was heaving up and down at a frantic pace.

"i... i don't know," michael whispered honestly, his voice dropping into a shaky, velvet murmur that was filled with absolute vulnerability. he looked back up at her, his eyes dark and completely wide with a mix of beautiful confusion and raw desire. "i don't know... but it feels so good. please don't stop."

michael was trying just as hard to stay completely quiet, but it was getting entirely impossible.

the sound of her muffled whimpers and the sight of her biting her lip was pushing him completely over the edge. he clamped his own mouth shut, his jaw clenching so hard that the muscles in his face went completely tight. every time his hips arched up underneath her, forcing that slow, friction-filled rub between them, a deep, heavy groan would threaten to burst out of his chest.

to stop himself from making a sound that could wake up the entire house, michael buried his face directly into the crook of her neck.

his hot, frantic breaths were uneven, burning against her bare skin as he let out a series of sharp, muffled gasps right against her collarbone. his long fingers dug even deeper into her waist, his grip trembling violently as he tried to anchor himself against the overwhelming waves of pleasure. he was moving beneath her with a desperate, quiet intensity now, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in the darkness as he fought to keep his voice trapped inside his throat, every single breath he took turning into a shaky, silent plea against her skin.

she buried her fingers into his dark, messy curls, pulling his head even closer against her neck as another wave of intense heat rushed through her. the feeling of his mouth against her skin and the slow, heavy rhythm of his hips underneath her was completely overwhelming.

"it... it feels so good for me too, michael," she whimpered into the darkness, her voice breaking into a shaky, breathless whisper right next to his ear.

hearing her admission completely destroyed whatever little restraint he had left. michael let out a muffled, trembling gasp directly against her collarbone, his entire body shuddering beneath her smaller frame. knowing that she was feeling the exact same incredible pleasure made his heart race even faster, and his hands gripped her waist with a sudden, desperate strength, guiding her to move against his hardness with a faster, deeper intensity that left them both completely breathless and dizzy.

the frantic pace of their movements was driving them both completely out of their minds, and michael’s hands, driven entirely by pure, raw instinct, finally began to wander.

his grip on her waist loosened just a fraction as his long, slender fingers started to slide slowly upward. his palms were burning hot against the fabric of her pastel pajama top, tracing the curve of her ribs as they moved higher and higher. michael was trembling so violently that he could barely keep his hands steady, his breath catching sharply in his throat as he realized exactly what he was about to do.

before his courage could fade, his hand slid up completely, his palm gently cupping her chest right over the soft fabric.

the moment his fingers brushed against her breast, a loud, muffled gasp escaped michael's throat, buried deep in the crook of her neck. his entire body shuddered underneath her, and his eyes flew wide open in the darkness, filled with absolute shock and a trace of beautiful fear at his own boldness. his hand stayed there, frozen for a split second in pure amazement, before his fingers instinctively flexed, squeezing her softly through the thin material.

the touch sent a massive jolt of electricity straight down her spine, making her arch her back into his hand as a breathless whimper slipped past her lips. hearing her reaction, michael let out another deep, shaky groan against her skin, his thumb starting to brush gently across the tip of her breast while his hips kept up that agonizingly slow, friction-filled rub beneath her, pushing both of them completely over the edge of control.

the overwhelming pleasure of his touch was immediately followed by a sudden, sharp realization that crashed over his mind, making his heart race even faster with pure panic.

she was his sisters' close friend.

he knew, with absolute certainty, that what they were doing was completely wrong. if his sisters ever found out that he had their best friend pinned down on his bed like this, touching her so intimately in the middle of the night, it would be an absolute disaster. he was supposed to be the responsible one, the one who kept his distance, but looking up at her face in the dim moonlight completely shattered all his willpower. he knew it was bad, he knew he shouldn't be doing it, but the feeling of her body on top of his was a temptation he simply could not resist. he was completely powerless against it.

and she was trapped in the exact same internal battle.

she knew she was crossing a major line by being in his bedroom, doing these things with her friends' brother. the guilt should have made her pull away, but every single time his long fingers squeezed her chest or his hips arched up beneath her, all those logical thoughts completely melted away. she couldn't stop herself either. the mutual realization of how forbidden this was only added a dangerous, intoxicating layer to the tension, making them both crave each other even more desperately as they abandoned every single rule they were supposed to follow.

the agonizing friction between their bodies continued to blur every single line of restraint, and as his hips arched up once more, michael felt something that completely short-circuited his brain.

through the two thin, damp layers of their pajama fabric, he could clearly feel a deep, spreading wetness coming from her.

the realization that she was completely soaked for him hit him like a physical blow. it drove him completely, utterly insane. his breath caught violently in his throat, and his dark eyes snapped wide open, staring up at her in the dim light with a wild, dazed intensity. the pure, intoxicating proof of her desire destroyed whatever little shyness he had left, replacing it with a sudden, overwhelming wave of dark confidence.

his hands gripped her waist with a sudden, bruising tightness, pinning her hips firmly against his hardness so she couldn't pull away.

"y-you're..." michael choked out, his voice dropping into a deep, incredibly raspy whisper that trembled with pure arousal. he swallowed hard, a dark flush covering his entire face as he looked straight into her eyes. "you're so wet right here... through your clothes."

she froze, her face burning a violent crimson, but michael didn't let her hide. he arched his hips up again, deliberately sliding his hardness directly against that damp, burning spot, making them both let out a muffled, breathless groan.

"that means you like it," he murmured against her lips, his voice trembling but laced with a quiet, desperate triumph. "you like what i'm doing to you, don't you?"

she swallowed hard, her heart hammering so violently against her ribs she was certain he could feel it. his blunt, whispered words left her completely exposed, and the sheer embarrassment mixed with the intense pleasure made her head spin.

"y-yes..." she breathed out, her voice nothing more than a faint, shaky whisper directly against his ear. she buried her face in his neck to muffle her voice, terrified that even the quietest sound would echo through the hallway. "yes, michael... i love it. it feels so incredible."

hearing her confession, completely raw and vulnerable in the dark, made michael let out a sharp, trembling gasp. his fingers dug even deeper into her hips, his knuckles turning white as he anchored her to him.

"be quiet... please," she whispered desperately against his skin, her lips brushing his neck as she bit down on her lip again to hold back a sudden, heavy whimper. "someone... someone might hear us."

michael’s whole body shuddered underneath her at her plea. he nodded frantically against her shoulder, his jaw clenching so hard it hurt as he fought to suppress the deep, ragged groan building in his chest. he completely understood the danger, but the feeling of her damp pajama fabric pressing tightly against his hardness was driving him too far gone. holding his breath, he tilted his hips up again in a slow, agonizingly deep slide, forcing them both into a suffocating, breathless silence as they tried to survive the overwhelming heat without making a single sound.

the sound of her timid voice, that weak, trembling "yes" crashing against his ear, completely made michael lose his mind. but what was driving him absolutely crazy, more than anything else, was watching her struggle with all her might to not make a sound.

feeling her bury her face against his neck to stifle her cries, hearing her let out tiny, broken whimpers trapped at the back of her throat, and seeing her cruelly bite her lower lip in the shadows... all of it acted like the most powerful aphrodisiac on him. this total vulnerability, this mixture of panic and pure pleasure, was pushing him straight over the edge.

the more she tried to hide, the more michael's excitement skyrocketed, becoming almost painful.

"j-just like that..." he murmured in a tiny, breathless whisper, his voice broken by a shiver that shook his entire frame.

he raised a trembling hand to caress her cheek, his fingers sliding gently down to her mouth to delicately touch her bitten lip, silently urging her to release it so he could catch her complaints. with his other hand, he pressed her even more firmly against him. the fact that she had to hold back her groans made every single rub, every movement of the hips he forced upon her, a thousand times more intense. he deliberately played with that limit, slowing down the rhythm and then picking it right back up, cruelly savoring the tiny, broken sighs she couldn't manage to keep inside, which died directly against his burning skin.

her fingers dug deeper into the soft fabric of his shirt as he picked up the pace beneath her, his hips moving in a rhythmic, torturous friction that had them both completely gasping for air.

every single time she tried to swallow a groan, her entire body would shudder, and michael would feel that sharp, exquisite contraction right against his hardness. it was a beautiful, agonizing feedback loop. the tighter she clamped her jaw, the more his fingers bruised her hips, pushing her down onto him to force another stifled sound out of her.

"please," she whimpered, her voice cracking as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "michael, i can't... it's too much."

"i know," he breathed back, his own voice completely wrecked, rough and uncharacteristically dark. "i know, sweetie... just stay right here. don't move away from me."

he was completely blind to everything else now—the risk, the house, his sisters sleeping just down the hall—none of it mattered compared to the damp, scorching heat spreading between their pajamas. shifted by pure instinct, michael slid his hands from her waist down to the back of her thighs, lifting her slightly just to bring her down harder against him.

the sudden, deeper impact made her eyes snap wide open, a sharp, high-pitched gasp slipping past her lips before she could stop it. michael caught the sound directly with his own mouth, leaning up to kiss her frantically, drinking in her whimpers and her taste as they completely melted into the quiet, breathless rhythm of the dark room.

the slow, agonizing friction between them was no longer enough. the thin layers of their pajama fabric felt less like clothing and more like a cruel barrier keeping them apart, and they both could feel the sudden, undeniable shift in the air. they wanted more. they wanted to go completely all the way.

michael’s breath hitched as a heavy, desperate ache settled deep in his chest. his hands, still trembling violently against the back of her thighs, tightened instinctively, pulling her hips down against his hardness with a sudden, needy force. he wanted to strip away the clothes, to feel her bare skin against his, to completely lose himself in her. the fear of getting caught and the intense shyness that usually governed him were completely gone, burned away by a raw, overwhelming urge to take this as far as it could possibly go.

she felt it too, a fierce, hollow ache pooling deep inside her that demanded to be filled.

she stopped trying to hold herself back. leaning down, she pressed her chest entirely flat against his, her heartbeat racing frantically against his own. she began to shift her hips on him with a new, deliberate urgency, non-verbally telling him exactly what she was craving. they were both completely dazed, hovering on the exact edge of a point of no return, both of them silently silently consenting to cross the final line into the darkness together.

the heavy, suffocating tension reached a breaking point where words couldn't be avoided anymore. michael’s breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, his lips brushing against her ear as he struggled to find his voice through the sheer intensity of his nerves.

"can i..." he choked out, his whisper incredibly soft, trembling with a mixture of intense shyness and desperate desire.

his hands slid up from her thighs, his long, warm fingers resting gently against the waistband of her pajama shorts. he didn't pull them down; he just held her there, his large, dark eyes looking up at her in the dim light, completely wide and pleading for permission.

"can i try... try it with you? please?" he murmured, his face burning a violent crimson as he explicitly asked to cross that final line. "i want to... so bad. if you want to."

she stared down at him, her heart doing a violent flip at his raw, honest question. the gravity of what they were about to do settled over her, making her voice shake even more than before.

"michael..." she whispered, leaning down so her lips almost touched his. "i want to. but... this is my first time. i've never done this before."

michael’s eyes widened slightly in the dark, a soft, breathless gasp leaving his lips. the confession didn't make him pull away; instead, a wave of pure tenderness and a strange, comforting relief washed over his face, softening the intense hunger in his eyes.

"really?" he murmured, his voice dropping into the gentlest, most vulnerable whisper. he swallowed hard, his grip on her waistband loosening just enough to caress her hip softly. "it... it is for me too. i've never done this with anyone."

the admission hung beautifully in the quiet space between them. the world's biggest superstar, pinned beneath her in the dark, admitting his own innocence. knowing that they were both standing on the edge of the exact same unknown territory completely erased the lingering fear, binding them together in a sudden, deep trust as they prepared to take that huge step together.

she nodded slowly, the weight of their mutual secret making her heart pound even faster against her ribs. she leaned down until her forehead was resting against his, her breath warm against his cheek.

"okay," she breathed, her voice a tiny, barely audible thread of sound. "but... we have to be so careful. we have to be even more quiet now, michael. promise me."

michael nodded frantically against the pillow, his long fingers instantly tightening around her waist to pull her closer, as if physically anchoring them both to the promise of absolute silence.

"i promise, i promise," he whispered back desperately, his voice cracking with emotion.

he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming. the stakes felt impossibly high now, but the pure, overwhelming connection of sharing their very first time together made the risk entirely worth it. holding his breath, he slowly began to guide her shorts down her hips, both of them freezing at every tiny rustle of fabric, completely locked in a tense, suffocating silence as they prepared to cross the line.

every single movement had to be completely slow and deliberate now. holding his breath, michael wrapped his long arms securely around her waist, his touch incredibly gentle as he prepared to shift their positions.

with absolute care, he rolled them over together on the mattress, making sure the heavy blankets muffled the slight creak of the bed springs. she felt a sudden, dizzying rush of air as she was lifted, and a second later, she was the one lying flat on her back against the soft pillows, with michael's tall, slender frame hovering completely over her.

he rested his weight on his forearms on either side of her head, careful not to crush her, his chest heaving silently against hers.

looking down at her in the dim moonlight, his dark eyes were completely wide, filled with a mixture of raw reverence and absolute nerves. being on top made everything feel intensely real, the heavy heat of his body pinning her down and leaving them both completely exposed to the unfamiliar territory they were about to explore together.

hovering over her in the quiet room, michael completely froze, his breath catching so hard in his throat it felt like his heart had stopped entirely.

the view of her lying beneath him in the dim moonlight was completely breathtaking. with her dark hair splayed out across his pillows, her cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful crimson, and her lips slightly parted as she gasped for air, she looked more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. the shadows cast a soft glow over her bare shoulders and the gentle rise and fall of her chest, making the moment feel almost sacred to him.

he was completely, utterly transfixed.

his large, expressive eyes widened as he drank in every single detail, a wave of profound reverence washing over his face and melting away a fraction of his frantic nervousness. he felt incredibly small, yet unbelievably lucky, to be the only person in the world looking at her like this. his gaze dropped to her lips, then drifted back up to meet her eyes, his entire body trembling slightly from the sheer emotional weight of the view before him.

sensing the weight of her eyes on him, michael swallows hard, his face burning an even deeper shade of crimson. he slowly shifts his weight, sitting back on his knees just enough to give himself room, though he never takes his gaze off her for more than a second.

with trembling fingers, he reaches down to the hem of his pajama shirt. his movements are incredibly hesitant, a textbook display of his deep, natural shyness. he hesitates for a long moment, his knuckles brushing against his stomach, before he slowly lifts the fabric up and pulls the shirt over his head, discarding it quietly onto the edge of the mattress.

without the shirt, his tall, slender frame is completely exposed to the dim moonlight. his shoulders are lean, his chest rising and falling in rapid, silent breaths that reveal just how fast his heart is racing.

he pauses again, his hands hovering nervously over the waistband of his pajama pants. he looks down at her, his large, dark eyes filled with a beautiful, raw vulnerability, silently checking to make sure she's still okay with every single step he takes. slowly, carefully, and without making a sound, he slides the remaining fabric down his long legs, completely shedding his final defense and leaving himself just as exposed and vulnerable as she is.

returning to her side, he hovered over her once more, the sudden heat of his bare skin against hers sending a massive jolt of electricity through both of their bodies. for a second, neither of them moved, just listening to the synchronized, frantic racing of their hearts in the absolute quiet of the room.

then, michael leaned down and closed the final distance between them.

their lips met in a kiss that was completely different from before—it was deeper, heavier, and charged with the raw knowledge of what they were about to share. michael’s mouth was burning hot against hers, his lips parting softly to drink in her quiet gasp. it started off incredibly tender and hesitant, a gentle tasting born from his natural shyness, but as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, the kiss instantly deepened.

he let out a low, shaky vibration against her mouth, a soundless moan of pure surrender.

his long fingers slid into her hair, gripping the strands gently to tilt her head just right, deepening the angle of the kiss. they moved together in perfect, breathless harmony, their tongues tangling in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that completely erased the outside world. the kiss became their lifeline, a way to pour all their overwhelming love, desire, and anxiety into one single point of contact, while keeping them both completely locked in the silent, forbidden safety of the dark.

breaking the kiss for just a fraction of a second to catch his breath, michael rested his forehead against hers, his eyes completely dark and hooded with intense desire. slowly, deliberately, he let his hands begin to wander.

his long, slender fingers started at her bare shoulders, his palms burning hot against her skin. he traced the delicate line of her collarbone, his touch so light and careful it felt like a silent reassurance, a way to make sure she was still with him at every single step. a full-body shiver ran through him as he slid his hands down the sides of her ribs, his thumbs lightly brushing against the sensitive skin there.

every time her breath hitched, his hands would freeze for a second, his large eyes scanning her face in the moonlight to check on her before he kept going.

gaining a little more confidence from her warm response, his hands wandered lower, mapping out the gentle curve of her waist. his palms smoothed over her hips, pulling her body just a fraction closer to his bare chest so he could feel the frantic, rhythmic pounding of her heart against his own. it was a slow, intoxicating exploration, his hands memorizing every single inch of her shape in the absolute silence of the bedroom.

breaking the kiss just enough to look at her again, michael rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in shallow, uneven pants. his large, expressive eyes scanned her face, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and her dark hair completely fanned out across his pillow.

"you're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice incredibly low and raspy, trembling with an intensity that came straight from his heart.

he brought one hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb softly brushing over her warm skin. his gaze drifted down her body, taking in the soft contours of her silhouette in the dim moonlight before returning to meet her eyes.

"you're completely magnificent like this... i can't even breathe," he murmured against her lips, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold her close. the sheer awe in his voice made the words feel like a sacred promise, entirely stripped of any pretense, leaving only the raw, breathless truth of how deeply she captivated him in the quiet darkness.

the agonizing wait and the intense closeness had pushed them both to a point where they couldn't endure the distance for another second. hovering directly over her, michael’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, his entire body trembling from the sheer effort of holding himself back. he slid his hands down to frame her face, his long fingers tangling gently in her hair as he tilted his head down, his dark eyes wide, dark, and completely consumed by a desperate, protective tenderness.

"can i..." he choked out, his whisper so low it was almost lost in the quiet room. his throat swallowed hard as he explicitly forced the words out, his face burning with a beautiful, raw shyness. "can i enter you now? please, sweetie... i want to be inside you so bad."

hearing his raw request broke the last shred of her restraint. she looked up into his eyes, her gaze completely clouded with a heavy, overwhelming desire that had become almost painful to bear.

"yes," she breathed out, the word escaping her lips as a soft, slightly begging whine. she arched her hips up just a fraction against him, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. "yes, michael... please. now. i can't take it anymore."

her pleading tone sent a violent shiver straight down michael's spine. the raw vulnerability of her voice, combined with her explicit permission, completely shattered his remaining control, leaving them both completely breathless as he prepared to finally cross that final, sacred line.

holding his breath, michael slowly slid his weight down between her thighs, his long body trembling with an intensity he had never felt before. the absolute silence of the room made every single heartbeat feel like a thunderclap against his ribs.

with his face burning a deep, feverish crimson, he reached down between them. his fingers were shaking violently as his hand closed around his length, his touch incredibly hesitant. it was a completely surreal sensation—the intense, throbbing heat of himself held in his own hand, completely bare and exposed to the quiet night.

slowly, with agonizing care, he guided himself forward until the very tip of his warmth brushed directly against her opening.

the initial point of contact was completely electric. just that tiny, feather-light touch sent a massive jolt straight up his spine, making his vision blur for a fraction of a second. for her, the sensation was just as overwhelming—a sudden, blooming heat right at the threshold, a soft, damp friction that felt incredibly large and intimidating, yet intensely desired.

he didn't push forward. because it was their very first time, he simply held himself right there, hovering at the absolute edge of her. the hypersensitive skin of his tip rested gently against her, feeling the frantic, fluttering pulse of her body welcoming his heat.

"oh god..." michael whispered, a tiny, broken gasp escaping his lips.

he froze completely, his arms locking on either side of her head as he looked down into her eyes. his chest was heaving silently, his raw, dark gaze completely locked onto hers, making sure she was breathing through the sudden, intense rush of nerves as they both hovered on the exact precipice of becoming one. taking a deep, shaky breath, michael braced his weight on his forearms, his eyes locked completely onto hers as he made the conscious choice to move forward.

with agonizing slowness, he began to push inward.

the immediate sensation was unlike anything either of them had ever imagined. for michael, it felt like being pulled into a tight, incredibly hot, and velvety glove that wrapped around his sensitive skin with a breathtaking pressure. the sheer warmth of her body enveloping him made his head spin, a low, helpless gasp dying at the back of his throat as he forced himself to stay completely in control, moving only millimeter by millimeter.

for her, the feeling was a sudden, intense fullness that stretched her open, a deep, heavy warmth that filled the ache inside her with a stunning reality. it was tight—almost painfully so at first—making her jaw clench automatically as her body adjusted to the unfamiliar weight and shape of him taking up space inside her.

"shh... just breathe, sweetie, just breathe," michael whispered, his voice completely wrecked and cracking with emotion as he felt her body tense slightly.

he stopped moving entirely, burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting her get used to the initial stretch. he could feel the frantic, rhythmic pulsing of her walls squeezing tightly around him, a sensation so incredibly intimate and intense that a violent shiver ran through his entire length.

slowly, as she let out a long, trembling breath and relaxed beneath him, he pushed just a fraction deeper, discovering the intoxicating friction of their skin sliding together for the very first time. they were completely suspended in the quiet darkness, both of them overwhelmed by the raw, magnificent reality of finally being connected, one slow, careful inch at a time.

the intense tightness of her body was almost too much for him to handle. as he pushed a fraction deeper, the sheer, crushing warmth of her walls enveloping his sensitive skin triggered a sensation so acute, so entirely overwhelming, that his control completely fractured.

"ah... oh god..."

the sound slipped past his lips before he could stop it—a low, helpless, and completely broken groan that vibrated deep in his chest. he instantly buried his face in the pillow right next to her ear, his teeth clenching hard as he tried to swallow the rest of the sound, terrified of being too loud but completely powerless against what he was feeling.

it felt entirely incredible. because it was his very first time, he had never known that a sensation could be this pure, this intensely hot and demanding. the way her body gripped him so tightly, molding perfectly to his length with every millimeter he moved, was sending waves of sweet, agonizing friction straight up his spine.

his long fingers dug desperately into the mattress on either side of her head, his knuckles turning white as his hips gave a tiny, involuntary twitch forward, sinking just a little bit further into her breathtaking warmth. he was completely dazed, completely undone by the magnificent reality of how tight and perfect she felt around him.

hearing his broken groan right next to her ear, combined with the deep, slow movement of him filling her completely, it became impossible for her to hold back anymore.

"mhnn..."

a soft, breathless whimper escaped her lips, a sound of pure surrender that she tried to muffle by biting down on her lower lip. the sensation of him sliding against her tight, sensitive walls was completely intoxicating, a wave of intense heat that rippled straight through her core and made her toes curl against the sheets.

hearing her voice, michael’s entire body went rigid for a split second. his eyes snapped open, looking down at her through the dark, completely wide and burning with a new, dark intensity. the sound of her groaning because of him, because of what his body was doing to hers, sent a violent rush of adrenaline straight to his heart.

it was the ultimate confirmation that she was feeling the exact same beautiful, overwhelming pleasure, breaking down the last of his hesitation as they melted completely into the rhythm of their very first time.

the shared vulnerability of their voices completely broke the dam. holding his breath, michael slowly, carefully pulled back just a fraction of an inch before sinking back into her, establishing a very slow, incredibly gentle rhythm of movement.

every single glide of his skin against hers was pure fire. the friction of her tight warmth wrapping around him with each slow push was so intense that they both felt entirely overwhelmed.

"mmh..." michael choked out a muffled groan, his eyes instantly widening in panic as the sound slipped out.

he immediately reacted, burying his face directly into the crook of her neck. his lips pressed hard against her skin, using her shoulder to physically smother the quiet, breathless sounds that kept threatening to tear from his throat. his entire body was trembling, his long muscles locked tight as he tried to absorb the sheer pleasure without making a sound.

she was struggling just as hard. as he slid deeper, a sharp, incredibly sweet wave of sensation hit her, forcing a soft gasp up her throat. she instantly clamped her hand over her own mouth, her fingers pressing tightly against her lips to stifle the whimper that followed.

they lay completely locked together in the dark, the room completely quiet except for the rustle of the sheets and the heavy, synchronized sound of their frantic breathing. every slow, shallow movement was a battle against their own voices, their bodies melting into an intoxicating, silent rhythm as they fought to hide every single breath and groan from the rest of the world.

the overwhelming sensation of him moving inside her, combined with the agonizing effort to stay quiet, became too much to bear. she needed to anchor herself to him, to the reality of who was holding her so gently in the dark.

she wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck, pulling him down until his ear was right against her lips.

"michael..." she breathed out, her voice a tiny, trembling whisper that was thick with emotion and desire.

hearing his own name slip from her lips in that desperate, intimate way hit him harder than any of the physical sensations. michael’s entire body shuddered, a soft, fractured gasp escaping him against her skin. his rhythm broke for a second as he froze, his fingers digging into the mattress as if he were trying to keep from completely losing control right then and there.

it was the sweetest, most vulnerable sound he had ever heard, and it made him press his hips forward just a fraction deeper, completely undone by the way she said his name in the quiet darkness.

he buried his face deeper into her hair, his eyes squeezed shut as her voice echoed in his mind. hearing his name like that made it completely impossible to hold back the overwhelming wave of love and desire crashing over him.

"i'm here... i'm right here," he breathed against her ear, his voice barely a shadow of a whisper, completely wrecked.

he couldn't help himself anymore. the rhythm of his hips became just a fraction faster, a little deeper, as the sheer bliss of her tightness drove him forward. every slow glide inside her was an intoxicating torture. he wanted to move harder, wanted to lose himself completely in her, but the absolute necessity for silence kept his movements agonizingly controlled, making the pleasure twice as intense.

"mmnnh..."

another helpless groan bubbled up from his chest, and michael quickly brought his own hand up, biting down hard on the side of his index finger to physically block the sound from leaving his mouth. his shoulders shook with the effort, his lean muscles straining under the dim moonlight as he poured all his energy into staying quiet.

beneath him, she was reaching her own limit. every time his hips connected with hers, a deep, beautiful warmth rippled through her core. she pulled her hand away from her mouth just long enough to arch her back, her fingers digging deep into the muscles of his bare shoulders, before burying her face directly into his chest to smother her own desperate whimpers.

they were both completely drowning in the sensation, their skin slick with a light sweat, desperately clinging to each other in a frantic, beautiful battle against their own voices.

the friction of their bodies moving together in that tight, agonizingly slow rhythm was pushing them both completely past the brink of what they could handle. every single slide of his skin against hers was pure, undiluted heat.

clinging to him as he sank deep inside her once more, she couldn't contain the truth of what she was feeling anymore. she pressed her face right into the crook of his neck, her breath burning hot against his skin as she whimpered it out.

"michael... oh god, it’s too good... it feels too good," she confessed in a desperate, broken whisper, her fingers tightening like vices on his bare shoulders.

hearing her say those exact words—hearing the sheer, unfiltered pleasure in her trembling voice—sent a violent shockwave straight through michael's entire frame. his hips buckled slightly, sinking into her as far as he could possibly go, and a long, shuddering gasp tore from his lungs.

"i know... i know," he choked out against her hair, his voice completely ruined and dripping with a raw, breathless ecstasy. "it's... it's too much, sweetie... you feel so amazing around me... oh god."

he couldn't even pretend to maintain his composure anymore. the sheer bliss of how tightly she gripped him, combined with the intoxicating knowledge that they were driving each other crazy in the absolute quiet of the night, made him lose his breath entirely. he squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth clenching hard as he buried his face back into the pillow, both of them completely lost in the overwhelming, beautiful madness of how incredible it felt to finally be one.

driven completely past the point of no return by her words, michael’s control dissolved into pure, instinctual need. the slow, shallow movements gave way to a deeper, more urgent rhythm, his hips driving into hers with a desperate, heavy friction that made the mattress creak softly beneath them.

every time he buried himself fully inside her, the intense, velvety heat of her walls wrapping around his length sent a violent shudder through his spine. he was completely breathless, his mind spinning from the sheer, overwhelming ecstasy of it.

"mhnn... please..." she whimpered against his neck, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist to pull him even closer, wanting every single bit of the incredible pressure he was giving her.

the feeling of her thighs locking him in, completely surrendering her body to his, made michael let out a sharp, ragged gasp. he instantly brought his hand up to cover her mouth, his long fingers gently pressing against her lips to catch the beautiful, loud whimpers that were starting to escape her. at the same time, he bit down hard on his own lower lip, tasting the copper tang of blood as he fought to swallow a loud, deep groan of his own.they were moving together in a frantic, sweating, and beautifully messy harmony. the quiet room was filled only with the wet, friction-heavy sounds of their bodies colliding and the agonizingly muffled sounds of their pleasure. michael’s chest was heaving against hers, his heart hammering so violently it felt like it would burst through his ribs, completely consumed by the magnificent, forbidden fire of holding her like this in the dark.

as they fell deeper into the rhythm, the initial shock and nervousness completely melted away, replaced by a pure, intoxicating confidence. their bodies began to adapt to the incredible sensation, formatting a perfect, seamless harmony that made the pleasure amplify a thousand times over.

michael found his stride, his long frame moving with a fluid, mesmerizing intensity. he wasn't hesitant anymore; he knew exactly how she felt around him now, and the sheer familiarity of her tight warmth made him crave more. his hips drove forward with a heavier, more deliberate force, sliding deep into her core and drawing out the sweetest friction they had ever experienced. every single plunge felt deeper, hotter, and infinitely more intense than the last.

she arched her back completely off the mattress, entirely consumed by the waves of ecstasy rolling through her. she didn't just endure the fullness anymore—she chased it, her hips instinctively rising to meet his every downward stroke, locking him in a breathless, tight embrace that drove him absolutely wild.

"oh god... sweetie... sweetie," michael unraveled, his voice a frantic, breathless loop against her ear.

he couldn't keep his eyes closed anymore. he looked down at her, his large, dark eyes completely glazed over with an intense, unadulterated passion. the sweat was trickling down his temples, his muscles fully flexed and straining under the moonlight as he pushed them both higher and higher. the need to stay quiet was still there, but it was being utterly crushed by the sheer magnitude of how good they were making each other feel, turning the silent bedroom into a pressure cooker of raw, beautiful desire.

she couldn't hold it in for another second. as he plunged deep inside her again, a wave of pure, overwhelming ecstasy crashed through her body, threatening to shatter the silence of the room.

desperate to smother the sound, she reached up and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling his head down with a fierce, sudden urgency. she slammed her lips against his, locking them together in a deep, frantic kiss, and let out a long, heavy groan right into his mouth.

the sensation of her hot, breathless whimpers vibrating directly against his own tongue sent an absolute electric shock straight to michael’s core.

"mmnnh... !"

michael let out a muffled, choked-out gasp into the kiss, his mind completely fracturing. the raw intimacy of swallowing her groans, of feeling her voice melt directly into his own throat while he was buried deep inside her tight warmth, was too much. his hands gripped her waist like a vice, his knuckles turning white as his hips began to drive into her with a new, completely unchecked intensity. they were literally drinking each other’s voices in, their mouths completely sealed together as they shared every single breath, gasp, and desperate moan. the kiss became a chaotic, beautiful battleground of silent pleasure—each downward stroke of his hips drawing a new, muffled whimper out of her that michael immediately captured and swallowed whole, both of them completely drowning in the suffocating, magnificent heat of the moment.

locked together in that suffocating, deep kiss, the absolute silence of the rest of the house only amplified the sounds they were making in the dark. as the rhythm grew heavier and the friction between them reached a fever pitch, a new, incredibly raw sound began to fill the quiet room.

it was the unmistakable, rhythmic slapping of their skin colliding—the wet, heavy sound of his hips striking hard against hers with every deep, unchecked plunge.

the sound was so intensely intimate, so explicitly loud in the quiet darkness, that it made michael’s mind spin completely out of control. every time he drove forward, the slick friction of their sweat-sheened skin meeting created a steady, intoxicating echo that seemed to vibrate straight through the mattress.

"mmnph... !"

michael groaned heavily into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers as he tried to swallow his own reaction to the sound. his face was burning, completely undone by how raw and primal everything had become. the sheer physics of their bodies completely melting into one another was no longer a secret kept just by their breathing; the room was alive with the heavy, frantic pace of their collision.

hearing the slick, heavy slapping of his skin against hers only pushed her further over the edge. she arched her hips up higher, meeting every single strike with a desperate force of her own, the sound of their impact growing louder, faster, and completely undeniable as they lost themselves entirely in the magnificent, sweating heat of their rhythm.

the intense, friction-heavy rhythm and the suffocating closeness were building toward something completely uncontrollable. every deep, wet plunge of his hips sent waves of blinding heat straight up his spine, and michael could feel the undeniable, electric tension pooling heavy and tight at the base of his stomach. he knew exactly what was happening. it was a completely new, terrifyingly beautiful sensation that threatened to rip his consciousness away entirely.

beneath him, she was riding the exact same volatile wave. the heavy, relentless friction of him filling her so deeply had coiled a tight, hyper-sensitive knot of pure ecstasy deep in her core. it was stretching tighter and tighter with every single strike of their skin colliding, pushing her to the absolute absolute edge of a cliff she had never jumped from before.

"michael... michael..." she gasped out, tearing her mouth away from his just long enough to breathe, her eyes completely blown out and unfocused in the dark.

"i know... i feel it too, sweetie," he unraveled, his voice dropping into a desperate, frantic pant.

the realization that they were both about to cross that final line together sent a massive surge of adrenaline through his muscles. michael’s pace fractured, becoming faster, harder, and completely desperate as he chased the tightening coil inside him. his hands gripped her hips, pinning her down to meet the sudden, intense acceleration of his movements, both of them completely breathless as the overwhelming pressure built to an absolute breaking point in the quiet darkness.

the shared peak of that first time is an absolute revelation, a sudden blur of uncharted sensations that washes over them both at the precise same second.

for her, the climax arrives as an intense, electric release that starts from the very center of her being and ripples outward. it is a feeling of total surrender and burning warmth, where her internal walls begin to contract in helpless, rhythmic, and incredibly sensitive waves around him. each pulsing spasm is a stunning mixture of relief and pure pleasure that completely steals her breath, making her lose all sense of time and space. she discovers a profound physical release, a beautiful wave of fulfillment that leaves her shivering and completely anchored to him.

for michael, feeling those tight, desperate contractions wrapping around him is the ultimate trigger. the peak of his pleasure is so sharp and concentrated that it feels as though his heart completely skips a beat. a blinding warmth rushes up his spine before exploding into a deep, heavy release, his entire length pulsing as he pours himself fully into her velvety heat. every single muscle in his long back locks into rigid, straining lines as he gives in to a total loss of control, melting into a physical fusion he never could have imagined before tonight.

together, they finally figure out how their bodies truly connect and respond to one another in the dark. they discover the intoxicating domino effect of their intimacy—how her tight, pulsing warmth triggers his own release, and how his deepest push answers hers perfectly. they experience the heavy, drifting afterglow where their racing hearts slowly sync back up, and their slick skin cools against the sheets. even the extreme sensitivity that lingers right after, making the tiniest movement almost too intense to bear, becomes a new language they share as they lie tangled together, catching their breath in the quiet room.

the heavy, frantic sound of their breathing gradually slows down, echoing softly in the absolute quiet of the room. neither of them moves. wrapped tightly in the heavy warmth of the blankets, michael slowly lifts his head from the pillow, his long curls damp with sweat and falling slightly into his eyes as he looks down at her.

their eyes meet in the dim moonlight, completely wide and wide-open with awe.

looking at each other, still entirely breathless, the reality of what they just did finally begins to sink in. a beautiful, overwhelming wave of realization washes over them both. they aren't just a boy and a girl hiding in the dark anymore; they have completely crossed the line into something entirely new, sharing an ultimate, permanent bond that belongs only to them.

michael's large, dark eyes trace every single feature of her face, glowing with a soft, protective adoration that is completely unfiltered. his long fingers tremble slightly as he reaches up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead, his touch incredibly tender.

"we... we really did it," he whispers, his voice still completely ruined, a low shadow of a sound that carries the immense weight of their shared secret.

she looks back up at him, her chest still heaving slightly against his, her heart hammering a steady, frantic rhythm right under her ribs. seeing the absolute devotion in his gaze makes a soft, emotional smile break across her lips. the initial shock of the intensity melts away into a deep, comforting warmth. they lie there completely locked together, silently acknowledging the beautiful magnitude of their very first time, utterly consumed by the magnificent reality that they now belong to each other completely.

the reality of the ticking clock starts to hover over the quiet room, but looking up into his soft, adoring eyes, the very thought of getting up and leaving becomes completely unbearable. she doesn't want to break the spell. she doesn't want to pull her skin away from his warmth, step out into the cold air, and pretend the world outside still matters.

she wants to stay. she wants, more than anything, to spend the entire night wrapped up in his arms and fall asleep right next to his heart.

clinging to him a little tighter, she buries her face back into his chest, her fingers gently curling into the fabric of the sheets beneath him.

"i don't want to go," she confesses in a small, fierce whisper against his skin, her voice holding a desperate honesty. "michael... i want to stay here. with you. all night."

hearing her say it—hearing that she wants the exact same thing he’s been secretly praying for—makes michael’s heart swell so painfully it brings a sudden warmth to his eyes. a breathless, incredibly relieved smile breaks across his lips. he doesn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.

"then stay," he breathes out, his voice cracking slightly with emotion as he instantly tightens his long arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. "please don't leave, sweetie... stay right here with me. sleep here."

he pulls the heavy blankets all the way up over their bare shoulders, tucking them in so perfectly that they are completely hidden away from the rest of the world. he kisses the top of her head, his lips lingering against her damp hair, completely overwhelmed by the beautiful, comforting reality that he doesn't have to say goodbye to her tonight.

he smiles into the quiet darkness, the sheer happiness of her decision making him feel completely invincible. he brushes his thumb gently across her cheek, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips before speaking.

"i'll find a way, sweetie," he whispers, his voice thick with a fiercely protective tenderness. "i'll sneak you out before anyone is even awake, or i'll hide you right here in my room. i'll make sure nobody sees you, i promise."

but then he pauses, looking down at her face illuminated by the faint moonlight, and the absolute devotion in his eyes grows even deeper. his fingers tangle gently in her hair, pulling her just a fraction closer against his chest.

"and you know what? even if they do see you... i don't care," he confesses, a soft, defiant laugh escaping his chest. "let them see. i really don't mind anymore. i'm so tired of hiding everything, and i'm definitely not letting you go tonight. all i care about is right here. i just want to stay with you."

the absolute certainty in his voice leaves no room for doubt. he shifts his body slightly, anchoring her against him so perfectly that their heartbeats seem to sync up in the quiet room. he pulls the heavy comforter tightly around them both, sealing them away in their own little world, completely indifferent to whatever consequences tomorrow might bring as long as he gets to wake up with her in his arms.

she feels the steady, comforting beat of his heart beneath her cheek, his words hanging in the warm air of the bedroom like a promise. hearing him say that he doesn't care about the risk, that he just wants to protect her and keep her close, makes a sudden rush of pure emotion tighten in her throat.

she looks up at him, her eyes shining in the dark as she drinks in the sight of his face, so open and completely vulnerable just for her.

"i love you," she breathes out, the three words escaping her lips in a tiny, fierce whisper that shatters whatever quiet distance was left between them.

michael freezes for a fraction of a second, his entire frame going completely still against hers as the words hit him. his breath hitches softly in his chest, his large eyes widening slightly as if he can't quite believe the sheer beauty of what he just heard.

then, a soft, incredibly broken sigh escapes him, and his face softens into an expression of pure, unadulterated devotion.

"oh god... i love you too, sweetie," he unraveled, his voice cracking with the heavy weight of how much he means it. "i love you so much."

he leans down instantly, burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding her so tightly it feels like he wants to melt their bodies together. his hands cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he presses desperate, warm kisses all over her jaw and her shoulder, completely undone by the perfect, beautiful certainty of her love.

Michael was obsessed with you.

His obsession was so intense that it scared him.

He loved how your skin glistened in the sunlight, how your hair fell down your back, how your nails were always polished pink, how you smelled like vanilla every time you walked past him, how your gloss was always intact on your lips.

He dreamt about smudging it. With his fingers, his lips.

He knew he was gone the second you had walked through Hayvenhurst’s door hand in hand with Janet, giggling about something together.

He felt guilty for fantasising about his little sister’s best friend but he couldn’t help it. He was mesmerised by your smile, your scent, your eyes. He was obsessed.

It wasn’t long before you caught onto his little crush. He barely ever had the courage to lock eyes with you but you still caught him staring one too many times.

“I like your sweater”

Michael froze, he recognised the sound of your voice. Velvet.

He slowly turned around and saw you taking out a tub of ice cream from the fridge. He had sneaked into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich at 1am.

“We are watching a movie” you said, a wicked smile on your lips, “Janet and I”

You knew you had him in a chokehold when you saw the look in his big bambi eyes. This was the first conversation and his face was pale, oh he was starstuck.

“You don’t speak?” you laughed softly.

Michael cleared his throat then, “I do”

He internally giggled at the words that just left his mouth, god knows he was already writing his wedding vows in his little notebook that was tucked away under his pillows.

“Good, someone’s gotta sing” you smiled, leaving the kitchen. You didn’t look behind but you knew he was looking at you.

This first encounter was 3 weeks ago. Long, painful 3 weeks for Michael. Small talks were made but he was always at a loss of words when he would converse with you.

You teased him a lot. Wearing short skirts whenever you visited Janet, biting your lips mid conversation with Michael, complimenting his hair. You mostly did it because it made his checks red and because you enjoyed making him stumble over his words, a broken ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth with every flirty compliment you passed on.

“I thought you liked me” you said, once again crossing paths with Michael in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

“I do” he said quickly, almost dropping the bread.

“Then why haven’t you asked me out yet?”

The question caught him off guard. His mouth opened but no words escaped it.

You slowly walked over to him, biting your lips making him melt. He was a puddle in your hand.

“I think you should take me out to dinner” you stated softly, your eyes flickering to his lips just for a second.

“Please” he whispered.

You raised your eyebrows, a confused look on your face.

“I mean, yes, yes I will” he said, straightening up his posture.

He was red in the face, short of breath and his palms were sweaty. He wanted to die, in your arms.

The first date was now 5 weeks ago. Lovely, blissful 5 weeks for Michael.

And you.

Sneaking around, hand in hand, running up the stairs so no one can see you two together. Soft kisses pressed against your lips, giggles passing mouth to mouth.

He loved the way you held him, the way you touched him, the way you kissed him. He was shy but needy. Timid but whiny. Needed you to guide him but as soon as he was hot enough, he would relish you.

He was gentle and generous, would make you cum with his mouth before you would even have the chance to unbuckle his belt.

He was possessive. No one knew you were with your best friend’s older brother so every time you came over to meet Janet, all the other Jackson brothers would come by and say hello in the most flirty way.

Michael hated it. He made sure you knew who you belonged to that very night.

“Why can’t we tell them” he whined as his fingers softly brushed your entrance.

He had almost started crying when you entered his room. He hated his brothers for flirting with you and he hated the fact that he couldn’t tell them to back off.

Before you could answer, his fingers were dipping in you. And they were rough, he wanted you bad.

“You’re mine” he said through clenched teeth as his eyes watered from frustration, almost making it sound like a threat.

You held his face in your palm, your thumb quick to wipe the tear that escaped his waterline, “I’m yours, Michael” you breathed out, struggling to keep up because that’s just how good his fingers felt inside you.

As you threw your head back, he realised that he loved the way you moaned his name like it was a prayer. You were his goddess and your body a religion that he worshiped every chance he got.

God, he truly was obsessed.

A/N: wanted to make this a blur with like 500 words and it still stretched out to 800+ words oof.

If you liked this, please consider reblogging/liking/commenting below, it really helps! :)

Also, I’m looking for my MJ moots so you know what to do mwah mwah

Thank you so much <3

"i think a lot of people take things out of context and repeat things they've heard online and through articles without taking the time to understand it." michael's voice is smooth and filled with a softness you couldnt help but smirk at.

you breathe through your nose as he continues to answer. "my skin color has changed overtime because of my skin condition. i've had it since i was young. that's all."

there's an uncomfortable pause after he finishes. the interviewer tilts her head, not really satisfied with his answer. "but you can understand why some people don't believe that right?" she presses. "i mean-it's a big change. some would say-"

"can we move on?"

the interview turns her head to you, and you see a few of your PR managers behind the cameras shaking their heads, making X's with their hands and fingers. you ignore it. you had little media training, so they couldn’t really control you even if they wanted to.

"i mean, seriously, come up with something else." you say, straightening in your seat. michael taps your hand as an attempt to stop you but you've already hit your limit. "he's explained himself countless times, you people are obviously hard of hearing so cut it out.”

“cut” one of the directors in the back announces and the cameras are cut off from the livestream.

on the way back to neverland, you just stare out the window. you were still a little frustrated, but when michael poked your left arm, your hardened expression softened and you turned to face him.

“you done brooding?” he asks you.

you let out a little laugh and uncross your arms. “sorry.” you murmur. michael grins at you and he grabs your hand gently. “for a second, i thought you were gonna jump over that coffee table.”

your eyes roll and you shake your head.

“i was nooot.”

he leans forward and kisses your temple. suddenly the tension in your shoulders and head released. “i appreciate it, baby. i really do. those questions can get ridiculous.”

“yeah i’ll say.”

michael scoots himself into the middle seat so he could be closer with you. “it did feel good hearing the mrs. jackson though.” he smirked, nudging your shoulder with his.

you giggled, looking down with a bashful expression. you were proud to be a jackson. so very proud.

his smile widens like he’s won an award by getting that reaction out of you.

Award shows. Oh, how you hated them. The pretence, the press and especially being around so many coked-up celebrities never felt right to you. Of course, they’d never admit to being drug-addicted losers, but you knew better. What kind of normal person sniffles and fiddles with their nose without actually needing to blow it? Right right. You hated it. As simple as that. You hated it all, loathed it even. But your boyfriend wanted you to be there for him. It’s the Grammys after all, and his latest album is nominated in pretty much every major category. He’s going to win it all. That’s a given. He’s going to sweep up every award, and you’ll be there to kiss him in front of the cameras every single time he gets up to collect another golden gramophone.

Maybe, just maybe, you like that, but that’s a big maybe. Showing off who you are to the rising star. You don’t want to admit it, but your ego inflates every time someone reminds you that you’re dating Michael Jackson. Of course, there's no guarantee that he’ll marry you—he’s yet to bring that conversation up—but who gives a shit? Michael Jackson is yourboyfriend. Yours. And that’s all that matters.

The car ride to Shrine Auditorium and Expo Hall is tedious and silent. You’re stewing in your own self-pity. The idea of simply jumping out of the car crosses your mind. Michael notices.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.” He mutters, plucking at your Afro to fluff it up at the back.

“Shut up, Mike. I don’t want to do this.” There’s no venom in your words. Michael knows that. He merely scoffs and lifts your knuckles to his lips.

“You gonna be in a mood all night? The cameras are gonna catch every scowl.” He pecks each knuckle on your hand.

Instead of responding with sarcasm, you turn to him and smile obnoxiously in a silent “I’ll pretend’ manner. Michael snickers. His lips are still lazily grazing your hand as he stares at you. God, you’re so annoyingly sassy, but he loves it. He loves how blunt you are—maybe because he’s had to be sweet and gentle all his life. You’re unmoving, like a mountain withstanding a lightning storm. So sexy. So infuriating. The car drives over a speed bump, breaking the slight sexual tension that had been building between you both. When it turns the corner into the Expo hall parking lot, you swiftly remove your hand from his delicate grip.

Cameras flash in a staccato motion. It’s overwhelming. Nauseating. Michael steps out of the car first, aviators hiding his gorgeous eyes. The cameras flash faster than before, journalists asking senseless questions all at once. Michael pays them little mind, flashing his oh-so-charming smile at them, giving them little satisfaction. He rushes to your side of the car before opening the door for you. He whispers a quick “smile, woman,” into your ear and you oblige. Photographs of you both entering the Hall are taken. Every move you make, every breath and every micro expression is documented. You’re already over it.

The ceremony—to you at least—is lacklustre. A few performances here, award winners there and unnecessary speeches flow through the Hall at a painfully laggard pace. You’re nearing the brink of sleep, but you fight it off. Can you imagine what the press would say if they caught you slumped in a theatre chair at the Grammys? Not only would that embarrass you, but your loving partner. You blink a few times, and finally, finally, Michael’s name is said.

“Male Pop Vocal Performance goes to Michael Jackson!”

And then another.

“The Grammy for Record of the Year goes to…Michael Jackson!”

And another, and another, and another until your lip gloss has finally gone dry from pressing chaste kisses on Michael’s perfectly sculpted face.

Your eyes stay fixed on him, blue-black and gold military-esque jacket glistening under expensive lights. He looks ethereal. Otherworldly. You have to admit you’re enjoying yourself now. Watching your man win 8 awards in one night gives you an indescribable high, a high he seems to notice because when he wins Album of the Year, he dedicates it to you. You kiss the bottom of his chin, a light red lipstick stain glistening on his as he accepts the award onstage. His speech is short but cutting, telling the crowd—and those watching at home—how much you inspired him throughout the album’s creation.

And soon after, the show ends, and the cameras stop broadcasting. You just have to suffer the post-award show interviews, and then you’ll be free from this glitz and glam-covered purgatory. Right?

Wrong.

“We’re going to the after-party,” Michael bounces. he hops smoothly, as if his bones are made of springs.

You want to melt there and then. Michael practically skips to your shared limousine, holding the door open for you to enter. He jumps in after you.

“I’m not going. No way.” You murmur. Michael shakes his head, holding your hand as he did on the way here.

“It’ll be fun! Drinks, food, music and dancing,” he practically sings, words dancing in the air like magic dust, “Please?”

“You’re way too jolly for my liking,” You scoff. He’s used to this, you getting all irritated by his famous lifestyle. He understands. He really does, but tonight is different. He won 8 Grammys for god’s sake; first person to do that, ever. Let alone being a black man to set that record. He’s elated, buzzing with justified pride. You can literally feel him vibrating beside you. “But fine. We’ll go to the damn after-party.”

Celebrities dance and sing alone to their own song in the warmly lit club. Alcohol flows through the room in waves and bodies sway in their elegant outfits. Some stars have changed into completely different attire. Show-offs.

You mingle as much as you can. Michael stays beside you for the most part  until he’s swept away by David Bowie. He says something about “wanting to introduce Michael” to a few friends. Your arm reluctantly unhooks itself from Michael as you dolefully watch him vanish into the crowd. With a frustrated smile, you find an empty seat near the back booth in the club. A few stars greet you. Some stable nearby chairs and make small talk with you while others remain standing. You notice a few snorting coke by the bar, sipping on something strong right after.

“Good lord, get me outta here.” You mumble inwardly, pinching the bridge of your nose, disconsolation evident in your mannerism. You can hear your boyfriend's heavenly laugh in the distance. Too heavenly for your liking. A piercing pang drops in your gut and, without further thinking, you get up and stride confidently towards the sound of Michael laughing again. When you make it to him, you see her.

Diana fucking Ross.

“Oh hi!” She gleams mockingly at you, waving her hand in your direction while her other hand caresses Michael’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be here, y/n.”

“Hi,” you mimic her tone, although less enthusiastically. Michael stiffens when he glances in your direction. Your jaw is clenched, and your hands are balled up in tight fists. “Didn’t think you’d be up at this hour either.” You smile wickedly.

Diana laughs it off, her lanky fingers still raking sensually over Michael’s shoulder. Michael doesn’t even move. He remains still, an awkward grin plastered on his even more awkward face. You’re not surprised he’s not moving. Michael has never been good with situations like this, and you’re well aware of the history between him and Diana. Fucking weird either way. There isn’t any situation where a woman should be all ‘touchy feely’ with a man 14 years older than him.

“What’s got you laughing so much, babe?” You question his loud chuckles from a minute earlier. Diana responds for him.

“A little inside joke between us from years ago!” She keeps up the pretence, You wouldn’t understand, sweethearts!”

Sweetheart? Who is she calling sweetheart?

“I have time.” You pry.

“Ah, it's nothing serious.” She grins.

“Seems serious enough to have you eye-fucking my boyfriend.” You quip.

Michael’s eyes widen behind his aviators. The three of you stand in thick, unbreaking pressure unnoticed by the rest of the party. Rage envelopes you in a fuzzy hug. Diana’s hand continues its journey around your man’s shoulder. Her thumb and index finger circle his chin, and without warning, she puckers her lips and kisses Michael right above his chin, leaving a purple lipstick stain on his lower's lip in its wake.

The damn within you cracks. Anger as thick and hot as molten lava seeps from every orifice and pore.

“You fucking bitch! I’m gonna fuck you up—” You lunge forward, your hands grabbing Diana’s hair as you drag her to the ground. The music keeps playing, muffling Diana’s pained and shocked screams. She’s completely taken off guard. Never in her life has anyone of Michael’s dates or girlfriends stood up to her like this. In fact, none of them stuck around long enough to have to deal with bullshit like this.

You straddle her on the floor, fists bashing at every inch of her face and chest. Each blow to her face is met with a curse and wince from her. Diana’s eyes water in agony. She cries for help, but her wails are nullified by the beating rhythm of music. Ironically, Michael’s ‘Beat It’  bounces out of large speakers, loud and deafening. Michael freezes completely. The only thing he manages to move is his hand as he disgustedly wipes Diana’s lipstick stain off his lip. He watches the scene unfold before him, eyes glistening—not with sorrow but with endearment too shameful to admit. You’re going batshit crazy on Diana right now, and he…likes it?

“Heavenly Father…” He mutters in absolute awe for you, “What a woman.”

One loud piteous cry from Diana eventually draws people’s attention, specifically David—who had been the one to take Mike away from your hold hours again. He hooks his arms under yours and drags you off of Diana. You don’t go out without a fight, kicking at her mindlessly as David drags you away. One kick in particular hits her ribs, drawing out a sharp cry from her.

All eyes are on you now. The music has stopped, and murmurs about the debacle travel to and fro. Michael eventually snaps out of his daze. His body shakes off the last remnants of sudden paralysis as he crouches down in front of Diana—not to check on her but to inspect your violent artistry. His large sunglasses hide the glint in his eyes. Diana shields her face in both hands, embarrassment evident in how she curls into herself on the floor.

Behind Michael, David still holds you back. He repeats “calm down” in your ear whenever you try to pounce. Your chest heaves energetically, hands grabbing at David’s arms when you finally try to get yourself together. He doesn’t mind. He’s seen shit like this before. If he was honest, what you did is nothing compared to what he’s witnessed on past occasions.

Soon enough, Michael is at your side, replacing David’s hold on you in a subtle manner. Instead of holding you in an undertook like Bowie had, he lovingly places his warm hands on your waist and hugs you from behind.

“Woman, you’ve done it this time,” Michael whispers. Someone rushes to Diana’s aid while another calls for medical attention. He rubs gentle circles over your hip bone with his thumbs and sighs, looking around the room. Cops could be on their way, though the chance of that is unlikely. Having police in a drug-ridden club would look bad for the Academy and the club itself.

“Who’s she feeling like? Kissing on my man? In front of me!” You lunge forward, but Michael holds you back.

“Enough, pretty thing.” Mike’s tone is stern now. As much as he’d like to entertain this further, he’s aware of how damaging this could be for you both. “Let’s go. She’s not going to press charges.”

“And you know this how?” You scoff and reluctantly ease up in his hold.

“Trust me.” He doesn’t explain further. You know what he means, and you hate it. As much as their…relationship irks you, you know Diana’s got a soft spot for him. If need be, he’ll toy with her heartstrings to get you off the hook.

The limousine ride to your hotel room is quiet. Michael massages your bruised knuckles and chuckles to himself.

“Ain’t shit funny,” you mutter, a faint smile splayed across your makeup-shone face, “I could go to jail.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you went all ‘Muhammad Ali’ on her.” He huffs, spreading his legs and shifting in his seat. He clears his throat when you notice it.

“Really, Mike? You’re sick.” You giggle.

“Might need you to beat up on me too.” Michael jokes bashfully, leaning in to kiss you.

“Boy, wash your face first…and scrub them lips extra hard.” You push him away. He pouts in mock offence but understandably nods and snickers, leaning back in his seat as the car rolls forward through the late night.

taglist

@pyt03 @lov3lylxvender @nobleumbrashrine @zerosugarcherrydrpepper @angeleface @fanficreader33 @beberock375 @michaeljacksonsleftnipple @xxhoneymo0n @kordulka @iiovey0u @michaeljacksonsbae @ningizuo @tellybearyyy @kneelarmhstrung @mikejacksbabymommaaaaa @nunusmoll @istayuptoolateonthisapp15 @funkaoverwar @khxna

Husband!Michael who never ever fails to open the door for you. He never lets anyone beat him to it, and he most certainly doesn't allow you to open the door.

Husband!Michael who constantly takes photos of you, even when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. Reading? Picture. Talking? Picture. Watching a movie? Picture. Breathing? Picture.

Husband!Michael who starts leaving hints that he's ready for a kid. He buys books on parenting, leaving them purposely in plain sight. Talks about how sweet his nieces and nephews are, all while side eyeing you to see your reaction.

One time he was sitting beside you on the couch and without prompting said, "Yknow, you would look really good pregnant. Like really really realllly good."

You look at him like yeah right, but he's looking incredibly serious.

Husband!Michael who runs victory laps around the Neverland estate when you tell him you're pregnant. He’d take a long lap, and run back to you panting.

“you’re positive???”

When you nod he would scream and take yet another lap.

Husband!Michael who immediately starts building a nursery and buying all sorts of baby clothes, despite not knowing the gender. He buys you anything and everything that could help make the process easier for you. You have a whole closet now full of pregnancy balls.

Husband!Michael who just about faints when he first sees the baby through the ultrasound. He held your hand tightly, eyes brimming with tears. The sight of him made you emotional, and you squeezed his hand.

He kneeled beside you and kissed your hand, "I promise you, I will always be here to take care of and cherish you and our baby."

And there wasn't an inch of you that didn't believe him.

Masterlist

you're younger than he is, but that isn't a problem—at least for him. it doesn't matter. not when you see his soul like nobody else can.

one time, you told him that you felt like he was your soulmate.

at first, he laughed about it, and you didn't like his reaction—but c'mon, he's an older man, what was the proper way to react to that?

but then, something weird happened. one night, he had this dream: you were the sun and he was the moon. he was orbiting not around the earth, but around you.

that was a strange dream.

of course he told you. your reaction? you started laughing, calling him a crazy old man.

but then, things started to make sense, like the way he always knew about the spot on your neck that would make you melt.

or the way you would recognize his favorite things even when he had never told you, like the specific way he drinks tea: always with four drops of sugar and one of milk.

and he swears he never told you any of that.

that was—according to google—soulmate behavior.

so when michael is in bed and you are there by his side reading a book, he looks at you.

he stares at you so deeply that you can feel goosebumps all over your body. well, you don't look at him, but all your focus on reading goes into space.

"baby, i think we're really soulmates."

"i told you that a while ago, but you only believe it now?"

he doesn't say anything; instead, he gets closer to you and has the audacity to close your book. you can feel his breath against your back; he starts to press gentle kisses on your neck.

a short whine escapes from your mouth when you feel his boner growing against your ass. he's so hard that you have no choice besides humping on it.

you already so fucking wet—thank god, you're wearing a nightgown. michael slips his panties to the side and gently puts his hard cock in.

he stretches you so well; he thrusts in that sweet spot, and it's so, so, so good—he whispers the sweetest words in your ear, you can feel that thing inside you growing until you reach your limit.

you're squeezing him so hard, you're so wet for him, it's too much for him; he cums deeply inside you, while he tells how much he loves you and how you're a good girl for him.

you're glad he is your soulmate.

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