surprise! put a ring on it - michael jackson x reader
Pairing: Michael Jackson x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Michael make an announcement at the 1995 Video Music Awards.
Warnings: None.
Content: Fluff, established relationship, age gap (like 12 years), PG13 intimacy, nsfw implied, no use of y/n, michael calls reader “baby”, “my girl” etc, HIStory era, 1995 VMAs Mike (hot), reader is fem and in my head ~filipina~. there’s notes that she is poc, but you can read however you want (this is totally not a self-insert fic… pfft why would i do that…)
AO3 🔗 <- read it on ao3!
Word Count: 5.3k
A/N: my first mj fic WOOOOO i am so. in love with this man. i’m so serious this is not a laughing matter. this fic materialized in my head after i watched his vmas performance… my favorite era of his, i fear. his short fluffy curls GAAWWD hold me back. i miss him a lot. this is my first time posting on this blog! i’m usually on my other one. i do have some other ideas… michosis is not letting up soon so let me cook. comments, reblogs, and thoughts are mucho appreciated. thanks yall! ♡
Your hotel suite buzzes with activity as stylists, assistants, and various team members mill about the room, keeping a tight schedule as the evening’s music awards event draws near. You’re a plus one for the night, but hold an even greater role as Michael Jackson’s longtime girlfriend.
You fiddle with the ring resting on your left finger, staring blankly at the vanity placed in front of your chair. The ring’s weight still feels heavy; you’ve only just started wearing it daily this past week. You glance down at your hands, flexing your fingers. The large diamond fits perfectly, and you study it like you haven’t been staring at it so often that you’ve memorized every single reflective piece that bounces off the light.
One thing about your boyfriend: he has taste, and he knows exactly what you love.
Correction: not boyfriend. Fiancé.
A bead of sweat trickles down your back.
You swallow dryly and look back up at the mirror. Your makeup artist, Donna, has been rambling on about something you haven’t paid attention to. It takes you a second to hone in on the gentle undulation of her voice and catch onto what she’s saying.
“—And Marv, well, he’s doing better now, but the kids are getting crazier as they get older. You know what I mean?”
You blink slowly, take another second to settle in, and nod.
“Um, yeah, for sure, Donna.”
Donna gives you a knowing look before rolling her eyes and continuing to powder your face. You catch a playful glint in her expression as she eyes you in the mirror.
“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”
You duck your head sheepishly and shrug. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah?” She asks, moving on to work on your eyes. “Like that big rock on your finger?”
Your eyes flit away and then back at Donna’s reflection. You smile, bashful, and nod.
Donna chuckles. “Congrats, honey. Don’t think I got a chance to say it before.”
You glance down. “Thank you. We… I mean Michael and I, we haven’t really said anything yet.”
“Everyone knows, sweetie,” Donna chides playfully. She swipes some product onto your lids. “We were all wondering when he’d finally ask.”
You chuckle. “I know, it’s kind of been a long time coming. We feel ready now. It’s just…”
You trail off again, feeling a pit grow in your stomach. You start to fiddle with the ring again.
Donna fills the silence. “The press still don’t know?”
The grimace on your face appears immediately. “No. There’s no better way for them to find out than tonight, I guess.”
Donna nods without reply, finishing her work on your eyes. She gestures at you to look up. You study the look: neutral colors with a touch of rose, the same shade as your blush. The color palette compliments your brown eyes and medium skin tone, just the way you like it. Donna added a gold line on top of your black eyeliner, a simple touch to elevate the look. You nod and smile at her.
Donna does the finishing touches as she speaks again. “So how are you two going to approach the big reveal?”
You sigh. “Well, we haven’t really discussed it. I think we both mutually agreed that we just wouldn’t say anything unless someone asks us directly. Michael has a ring too; he says he got it just because he liked it, but I know he wanted to join in the engagement somehow.”
Saying that out loud brings a small smile to your face. Michael was just sweet like that. He never wants you to feel alone in what you two do together. Donna smiles as you talk.
“That’s wonderful, honey. Well, I’m wishing you both godspeed tonight. Just hold onto each other, like you always do.”
Donna squeezes your shoulder. You reach over to touch her hand briefly and look up at her, smiling. She pats you and finishes your makeup off with your lips.
You get dressed after your hairdresser comes over to adjust the small kinks in your updo. Your dark hair is pinned up in a messy bun, styled to look effortless and clean. You glance at the closed door. Michael’s on the other side, and you have yet to see him since you both started getting ready. You let out a slow, deep breath as more of your team flutters around you like birds, fussing over every small thing they notice needs fixing. After a few minutes, your assistant Charlie motions at you to stand.
“I’ll help you get your shoes on,” She chirps.
You smile, grateful. “Thanks, Char.”
You hold onto the back of the chair you sat on while slipping your feet into the gold heels. Charlie clasps them securely. When she stands, she gives you a once-over with an admiring smile.
“Stunning as always, my love. Do you want to take a peek?”
“Sure.” You walk carefully over to the mirror, testing out the heels. Slightly uncomfortable, but not totally impossible to walk in. The shoes click along the floor as a path emerges amidst the milling crowd, guiding you towards the mirror. You take your place in front of it and can’t help a small gasp escaping your mouth.
A glittering, black dress hugs your figure perfectly as it cascades down into a short train. You turn left and right, sneaking a glance at the nearly backless frame, held together by a few straps that complement your body. You run your hands along your stomach to your hips, feeling the silky material. You glance up at your torso and face, seeing body glitter shine subtly in the light and illuminating the soft features in your face.
You continue to admire the final look as you hear soft whistles and cheers sound behind you. You look around and wave people off, smiling and feeling a slight blush heat your cheeks. You don’t notice the door open off to the side and the almost immediate hush that falls over the room.
You smile at your reflection and say to no one in particular, “I think this is one of my best looks.”
“Indeed, it is.”
You turn to the side and see Michael leaning against the door frame, arms and legs crossed. He has his aviators on already, covering nearly half his face, but it still draws attention to the small half smile spread across his mouth. You glance up and down at him. He dons his armor-like leg guards on his shins atop fitted black pants, covering his staple loafers. He wears a fitted black leather vest, also shining in the light, with the collar popped open at the neck. His curls are cut short in a fluffy, stylish manner. You have the sudden urge to run your hands through them.
Michael stands out, but in the best way possible. Even after all these years, he still takes your breath away. Your smile widens as you twirl in place.
“Like what you see?”
Michael pushes himself off the door frame and walks over to you. He covers his mouth and rubs his chin slightly, laughing.
“I do. You look incredible, baby.”
That elicits a small giggle from your lips. The world hones in on the two of you as you watch Michael approach. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his shirt as he draws near. You don’t notice Charlie shooing everyone out, whispering a small, “We’ll leave you two alone for a few,” before closing the door with a soft click.
Michael goes to stand behind you and slides his hands around your waist, enveloping you in a gentle caress. He stares at your reflection with round, soft eyes, tracking your every move. You hold his gaze and lean against him like second nature. You both begin to sway back and forth involuntarily, looking at each other in the mirror. Michael leans down to kiss your shoulder above the dress strap. He straightens and catches your eye as he flashes a shy smile.
“So beautiful.”
Your blush deepens. “You look very handsome yourself.”
Michael laughs, a deep rumbling against your back. “Thank you.”
He glances down at your hands and takes your left one, his fingers grazing the engagement band. You turn towards him, still keeping close, your other hand on his chest. You both look down at the ring.
“How do you feel about tonight?” Michael asks, gentle.
You release a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Okay.” You rub Michael’s hand absentmindedly. His other one resting on your waist squeezes slightly. You avoid his gaze, fiddling with his jacket collar with your other hand.
“Just okay?”
Michael leans down to catch your eye, a knowing glint reflecting in his own. You chew your bottom lip and furrow your brows.
You sigh, shifting to reach both arms around Michael’s shoulders and pull him into a hug. You feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest as he pulls you close. His scent envelops your senses, calming you.
“No,” You mumble. “I’m nervous as hell.”
Michael laughs again, his embrace tightening slightly. “I am too, baby. But we’ll get through it together.”
You hum. “I know we will.”
You pull away and grab his left hand, running a finger on his own silver band and smiling. You bring your lips to it, keeping eye contact as you plant a kiss on top of his fingers and leave a lipstick stain behind. Michael’s grin stretches from ear to ear, a bashful blush tinging the top of his ears pink.
“Just don’t let go of my hand, my girl.”
You hit his chest playfully. “Never.”
Michael kisses the side of your head, careful to avoid your makeup, and slips his hand into yours as you both leave the room. He slides his aviators back on as Charlie appears next to you. She places your clutch in your hand and begins to rattle off instructions to the two of you. You nod absentmindedly as security leads you out into the hallway, to the elevator, and through the hotel lobby. As you approach the exit, you can already see the flashing lights from behind the window. Michael’s grip on your hand remains firm as you enter the frenzied crowd.
Cameras flash in your face, and the familiar chorus of excited voices and exclamations that always follow your fiancé rushes into your ears. You keep your head slightly down, focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Paparazzi and reporters call your name, Michael’s name, shoving notepads and audio recorders towards your faces. Your security team keeps a narrow path open for you to reach your car.
Michael moves behind you as you reach the open door. He helps you with your dress as you scoot inside, him following quickly behind. The door shuts immediately, drowning out most of the sound. You release a breath and find Michael’s arm again, slinking yours around it.
Michael reaches over to move a few loose strands framing your face to the side. He kisses your head again and looks down at you, adoration splashed all over his cheeks.
“Step one done,” He jokes.
You snort, which makes him laugh. “Yeah, out of a million.”
You both make idle chit chat as you drive to the event. Eventually you pull in and see an even bigger crowd of roaring fans, and numerous media outlets surround the award’s red carpet entrance. The car pulls to a stop and someone opens the door on Michael’s side. He squeezes your hand.
“Ready?”
You lean in to give him a small peck on the lips. His head follows yours as you pull back, Michael smiling softly as if wanting more. You shake your head, laughing.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Michael gets out of the car first, and the screams outside intensify. He holds his hand out to help you down. As you step fully out, you glance outward with a shy smile on your face before looking back at Michael. He takes your hand and mouths, “Hold on.” You nod as you both take off into the carpet.
You first pose to take pictures. Charlie materializes again to take your clutch from you, signaling that she’ll return it once you’re settled inside. You rejoin Michael as he poses for the cameras. His hand never leaves your waist as he guides you from one spot to the next. Near the end of the picture train, you raise your left hand to rest on Michael’s chest. You see him glance down at your peripheral, and you look up at him. He grins from ear to ear as he leans into your touch. You follow him, unable to keep your laughter in as you both lose your composure.
The frenzy behind the camera line rises to an uproar. You hear numerous exclamations of shock and joy from the crowd as Michael takes your hand again and leads you into the reporters’ section.
“Michael, is that a ring?”
“Hold up your hand, let’s see the rock!”
“Let’s see those smiles!”
You chuckle as you continue walking. A staff member speaks to Michael briefly before leading him towards the first reporter. You steel yourself and touch Michael’s arm. He leans down as you speak into his ear.
“How many reporters are we talking to today?”
Michael shakes his head. “I’m hoping only three.”
You know that’s probably wishful thinking as you station yourselves next to the first person. She’s a tall, beautiful woman sporting a big afro and wide smile. The camera crew adjusts themselves while she readies her cue cards. She looks at the two of you before rolling and greets you warmly.
“Hi, you two, welcome to the VMAs. I’m Shayla and we just have a few questions for y’all today, nothing major.”
Michael nods as you voice over a soft “okay,” and someone announces you’re live. You smile as the interviewer greets Michael first.
“Hello to the stunning couple here! Michael, could you tell us what you’re wearing?”
“Yes, well, these are custom, designed by my longtime stylists, Michael Bush and Dennis Tompkins. They’re wonderful, as you can see, and really tailor the elevated look I like.”
“Of course, you always look incredible. And you, my dear, this dress is gorgeous on you.”
You laugh. “Why, thank you. I’m wearing Versace head-to-toe.”
Shayla smiles. “Amazing. And…” She trails off, glancing down at your entwined hands. “I’m sorry, I have to ask! There’s also something shiny catching my eye on your finger. Is that what I think it is?”
You inhale deeply and flash a grin. You bring your hand up as if tucking back your hair and then rest it on your chest, breathing dramatically. “I do believe so.”
Michael covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he suppresses his laughter at your antics. You glance at him with mirth as Shayla lets out a not-so-subtle shriek into her microphone.
“Oh my god! Can I see the ring?”
You nod, laughing as you stick your hand out. She takes your fingers delicately, ogling the diamond before looking back at you.
“Okay, screw the cards! Congratulations! When did you propose? Did this just happen?”
You look at Michael, who nods shyly.
“Yes, this past weekend. I thought it was high time.”
He looks down at you, and you just nod back, giggling.
“So sweet,” Shayla muses. She looks at you. “And you’ve been together for a few years now, right?”
“Yes, almost four now. We’ve honestly been talking about it for a while now, but we finally bit the bullet. Actually, he finally proposed; I’ve just been waiting here.”
You point your thumb at him and roll your eyes playfully, earning a few chuckles from the camera crew and a light laugh from the interviewer. Someone from your staff signals that it’s time to move on and Shayla nods.
“Well, that’s amazing news, you two. Congratulations again and enjoy your night!”
You both give your thanks before moving along the carpet. Michael leans down to speak in your ear.
“That wasn’t too bad.”
You hit him lightly on the chest. “Don’t jinx it!”
He laughs as he leads you along. Michael stops a few times to greet the fans, mostly to avoid more interviewers. You say hi as well; most of them scream your name and unintelligible words above the noise. You just continue smiling and nodding before you’re whisked away to another interviewer close to the entrance of the awards building.
Almost there, you tell yourself. The interviewer Michael parks you next to is a middle-aged white man with a permanent smirk on his face. He looks up and down before flashing a grin. You smile politely before glancing up at Michael. You can’t see his eyes, but his jaw is set in a straight line, and you can see him gritting his teeth. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you in close. You don’t resist as the interview gets started.
“So, lovebirds, word travels down the carpet fast. You’re engaged? Congratulations.”
A mild tone of politeness oozes from the man’s voice. Michael nods curtly.
“Yes, thank you.”
“And you just happened to announce it first at tonight's awards show? Bold move.”
Michael answers again coolly. “Well, yes, we thought there wouldn’t be a better time.”
The man glances down at his cards and then looks up to address you. “You’ve known Michael for how many years now?”
Your polite smile feels stiff on your mouth as you reply. “About four.”
“Mm. And you’re how old again?”
You blink and tilt your head. Outrage flames in your chest, and you fight to stamp it down, praying any media training you’ve received kicks in at this moment.
“Now, sir, isn’t it improper to ask a woman of her age?” You bat your eyelashes and force your grin wider, hoping to exude witty charm rather than incredulous shock.
The man chuckles; it seems to have worked, for now. “It’s just, you seem so young. And no doubt you’ve read what folks have said about your… relationship.”
Your expression falters slightly. Oh yes—you’ve seen the headlines.
This Just In: Michael’s Hot New Fling (A Young One, At That)
Breaking News: Michael Likes Little Girls Now?!
Age Gap Love: In Fashion or Out of Style?
The content of those features is even worse. The media circus seems to know everything about you and Michael but the actual truth of your relationship. The stuff they say about you is vicious, hateful, and infantilizing, despite you being of age when you both first met. You knew what it would look like to the rest of the world, yet you underestimated just how nasty public scrutiny could get.
Michael has been through the worst, and you’ve been right by his side the whole time. You both felt less alone through everything, but it still hurt sometimes. Now, though, declaring your love and devotion proudly to the world and still being judged for it, you felt nothing other than simmering fury threatening to boil over.
But still, you forced yourself to remain calm. Tonight was Michael’s night, and yours. So you kept that smile plastered on your face and spoke through your teeth.
“Of course I’ve read everything. But I love Michael, and he loves me. We make each other happy. Now we’re engaged and can’t wait for married life together.”
You brought your hand to rest on his chest, and he grabbed it with his other, squeezing softly. He smiled down at you before frowning at the interviewer.
“I love her, and that’s all that matters.” He said firmly.
The interviewer cleared his throat and looked at his crew awkwardly. “Well then… one more question for you, Michael…”
He asked a standard question about Michael’s performance tonight, and before you knew it, you were led inside the venue. Michael greets other artists along the way to your seats in the front row. You see Janet and pull away from Michael for a moment to hug her and chat. She notices your ring and squeals in happiness, rushing to hug you once more and congratulating you.
“About time my damn brother proposes. Ahh, I’m so happy for y’all!”
“Thank you Janet, it really means a lot.”
The two of you hug again when Michael finds you. He also hugs his sister, chatting briefly before he takes your arm and guides you to your seats.
After you sit down, you slump against Michael with a groan.
“God, I thought that would never be over.”
He laughs in your ear, which sends warm tingles down your spine. Michael moves his arm to pull you against him. You nestle in closer as you let out a huff of breath. He rubs your arm up and down in a soothing motion.
“That last reporter was a dimwit. Are you okay?”
You shift to look at him. Michael’s face is inches from yours. You’re close enough that you can barely see his eyes behind his glasses, which flit all over your face, searching your expression. You give him a genuine smile, reaching over to smooth his hair back and caress the side of his face. Michael leans into your touch, breathing in deeply and giving your palm a soft kiss. You almost melt at the sight of him like this, so enamored and concerned with his beloved.
Again, the commotion around you in the auditorium disappears. Everything closes in, muffles in volume and out of focus. Your attention is locked in on the man beside you, like you’re the only two people in the world. He returns your smile and reaches over to squeeze your exposed thigh. Your breath hitches involuntarily, a blush rising in your cheeks.
You clear your throat as you reach to hold his hand. You clasp your fingers over his as you say, “I’m fine, baby. They don’t know anything about us.”
Michael nods, though his mouth remains downturned. “They really don’t. But still… They say awful stuff. The last thing I want in the world is for you to take those words to heart.”
You respond by squeezing his hand firmly. “Their words hurt sometimes. You know that; I’m only human. But Mikey, we’ve got something special. And your love gives me strength. I know who I am, and our love only gives me more courage to push through. I promise.”
Michael’s face lifts at your words. He looks down at your intertwined hands. His fingers rub tiny circles on yours as he hums.
“You help me be brave too, my girl.” Michael flashes you one of his brilliant grins, warm and blinding all at once. You can’t help but hum back in admiration and lean forward to kiss him softly.
He kisses you back, not fully leaning in, but lingering, not wanting to break apart from your embrace. You pull back slightly to give him a big smile. Michael just looks at you in wonder, drinking in your features as if you’re the only woman in the world. Everything around you suddenly rushes in again, blaring music from the speakers flooding your senses and calling your attention to the stage. You rest your hand on top of Michael’s, which never leaves your thigh the whole ceremony.
He leaves in the middle of the show to prepare for his performance, and when he steps out on stage, you already know that this would be one of his most iconic sets. The screams from the crowd and the fans on the balcony are deafening. You relish seeing him on stage, adored by everyone and looking so good. But what you love the most is how many times he searches for you in the crowd and looks in your direction. He even points a few times, cheeky and flirtatious, causing you to laugh every time.
The camera also keeps panning to you cheering and dancing in place. You don’t miss the glint of the diamond on your finger on the big screen and how Michael’s ring flashes in the stage lights. A subtle announcement, a proud declaration of your love.
Your chest swells with pure devotion. To the rest of the world, the man on stage is Michael Jackson, global superstar and legend. To you, he is the love of your life, the man you’ll spend the rest of your days with.
Michael finishes his performance with a bang and runs offstage. When he returns to your seat during commercial break, you stand up cheering for him with open arms. Michael sweeps you upward in a fierce hug and spins you in the air. You squeal, laughter escaping your body as the wind is nearly knocked out of you.
He sets you down and kisses you again, this time a little more deeply. You’re sure everyone around you is staring, but you could care less. He lingers a little longer before pulling back with a boyish grin.
“How’d I do, honey?”
“Flawless as always,” You reply, breathless. You return his expression with a bright smile and you take your seats as the show continues.
When Michael and Janet win their final award for the night, they take the stage and do their speeches. At this point, they make it short and sweet, but Michael adds a special touch to his words that shocks you with bliss.
“I won’t take too much time. Janet and I are very grateful for these awards, thank you MTV. Again, I want to thank God, my family, and especially my special lady in the front row.”
Michael points directly at you and your eyebrows raise in surprise. This is the first time Michael explicitly acknowledges you on stage all night. The camera pans to you as more screams erupt from the crowd. You blow a kiss with both hands and keep your hands on your chest. Your face hurts from how much you’re smiling, but you can’t stop.
Michael turns away in his shy manner, a soft smile on his face. Then he turns back to face you and keeps eye contact as he finishes speaking.
“You make me a better man. You’re the reason I do what I do. And I can’t wait to keep celebrating these moments with you for the rest of our lives.”
Michael blows a kiss back, his ring catching the light. Your eyes flood with tears threatening to spill, chest filling with emotion as he mouths “I love you” while walking offstage. The crowd erupts into a frenzy as the next announcers appear. They have to shout to be heard over the din. Although he didn’t say it outright, Michael might as well have told the whole world what you’ve both got coming next. And you couldn’t be happier.
Your head buzzes, feeling light and airy as Michael returns to his seat. Cheers follow him and don’t seem to settle as another commercial break returns. You turn to him as he sits down and shove him lightly.
“Real subtle, what you just did.” You tease.
Michael shrugs, biting his lower lip. You mirror him, fighting the sudden urge to pounce on him right then and there. God, you love him so much.
“What can I say baby, I just speak my truth.”
You lean to kiss his cheek and smooth his curls back. He follows your every move as you shake your head playfully.
“Well, I’m honored,” You chuckle. “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to begin, too.”
Michael takes your hand and plants a soft, lingering kiss on the back of it. You giggle and lean into him again as the ceremony reaches its finish.
At the end of the night, you both decide to go back to your hotel instead of the afterparty. The media is a full on circus in the pick up area. Reporters from every angle yell to dish out more information about your engagement, Michael’s proposal, and when you’re getting married. The door shuts behind Michael and the car peels away, leaving the din behind as you both retreat into your own private little world for the rest of the night.
The next morning, you flip a newspaper idly as the news plays on the TV in the background. Your feet are on Michael’s lap, him running his fingers absentmindedly on your skin as he eats breakfast.
Unsurprisingly, the two of you are splashed all over the front page. The King of Pop Engaged!
“Aw look, honey, this is actually a decent press photo of us.”
You turn the newspaper towards Michael. He leans in to take a peek. You’re both looking to the side in a candid way, Michael throwing a peace sign while your hand is on your chest, smiling brilliantly in the same direction. The photo catches the ring in the perfect angle, its glint shining perfectly on paper.
“You look gorgeous, baby,” He muses, and glances playfully at you. “If I’m not mistaken, that hand placement is suspiciously placed. Almost like you planned it for the photo op.”
You snort, putting down the paper and looking at your hand in admiration. “Well, strategic maneuver or not, I just love showing this off.”
“I know you do.” Michael grabs your outstretched hand and pulls you up to stand. You give him an amused look before bursting into giggles as he twirls you in place. He sways you back and forth, your chest flush against his torso as you dance to the TV noise.
You look up at him, smiling. He returns your gaze, warm brown eyes melting into you. You turn your head to rest against his body. You hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, thrum in your ears.
“I really can’t wait to marry you,” He whispers. His voice rumbles in his chest and you look back up at him. He looks at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you—smitten and hopelessly in love. Like every time he looks at you, he sees an angel come down to earth who will change his life forever.
You laugh, bright and airy. It fills the space and lights up Michael’s expression even more. He looks lovesick, like he’s seeing the face of God. Like the only thing he wants is you.
“I can’t wait to marry you and become Mrs. Jackson.” You reply, flirty and sensual all at once.
Michael groans, helpless, and smiles as he leans down to kiss you, pulling you in as close as possible. You wrap your arms around his neck as you stand on your toes to meet him. Michael kisses you deep and slow, like he’s memorizing every part of your body with every touch. His hands grip your waist, roam underneath your shirt to graze your skin. His touch is gentle, feathery light, but feels like fire. You gasp, breathless, pulling back slightly.
At your sounds, Michael emits a deeper groan, chasing your mouth as his grip on you tightens. He swallows your gasp in another deep kiss, swollen lips enveloping you in a desperate fervor. Michael breaks apart to bend down and lift you bridal style in one sweep. You yelp, laughing as he picks you up. He kisses you sweetly as he walks towards the bedroom.
You hum into his mouth. “Mikey, we haven’t finished breakfast yet.”
“We can finish it later,” He murmurs, continuing to kiss you as he leads you to the bed.
He lays you down gently onto the covers and hovers over you, basking in your face and body below. His eyes search you, full of wonder and adoration and complete devotion.
“I love you so much, my girl.”
You gaze up at him, this beautiful man with dark curls and gentle eyes, with an even gentler soul. Your heart swells until it threatens to burst.
“I love you more, Mikey.”
Michael grins, teasing.
“I love you most.”
