⊹ ࣪ ˖ SYN; as personal assistant, your supposed to keep your dirty little secret to yourself. This time.. you couldn’t hold it anymore. Not when michael’s insecure about his nose.
. ⊹ 🍮🥄 ៹ ݁contains: sexual themes, eating out, soft!dom thriller michael. fem!reader & use of ! nicknames. michael is downbad, lwk fwb , he begs. (f! receiving.) ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
Michael had a habit of turning his face ever so slightly whenever someone lifted a camera.
You'd noticed it months ago. Never enough for anyone else to question it, but enough that you found yourself wondering why every photograph seemed to catch only one side of his smile. It wasn't until one evening, long after rehearsal had ended, that he finally admitted it.You'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, sorting tomorrow's schedule into neat piles while he absentmindedly stood in front of the mirror, fingers brushing lightly across the bridge of his nose. "I think it looks... strange." His voice barely carried across the room.
You looked up. He didn't. "I don't know." His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "I just..." The sentence dissolved before it ever reached the end.The mirror suddenly seemed much more interesting than you.You closed your planner.Walked over without saying anything. He kept his eyes on his reflection.You kept yours on him.Then, with all the gentleness in the world, you reached up and rested your hands against either side of his face.
He finally looked at you. "I like your nose." A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "...You don't have to say that."
"I'm not saying it because I have to." Your thumb brushed lightly across his rosy cheek. "I'm saying it because it's true." He searched your face as though expecting to find the joke somewhere hidden inside your expression.He didn't.
Before he could think of another reason to disagree, you leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss against the bridge of his nose. Just one. When you pulled away, Michael blinked at you in complete silence. "...You kissed my nose, minnie."
"I did."
"...Why?" You smiled. "Because I like it." The room stayed quiet for another moment. Then, almost shyly, his hand drifted back to his face.
Not to hide it this time. Just to touch the place you'd kissed. "You are..." He looked down at the floor, still smiling to himself. "...You're somethin' else." You only shrugged. "Just for you, mr jackson." Without another word, he leaned his forehead against yours, his smile lingering this time.
you avert eyes, you clear your throat. you feel the heat, looking down at your hands, so you finally blurt it. halfly.
"i actually think about riding you. your nose..." you mumble so clear to his ears. your tummy flips, and you clench your thighs so embarrassingly stupid you slam your face into your palms. "f-for how long?" he blurts, biting his cheek while his hands creep up to your sides. "h-how long have you been thinking like that? about me? minnie-"
"since forever. fuck- shit-" you blurt, pushing him away, "i-i'm so sorry Michael i don't wanna be a weirdo but-" Michael reaches for your waist, as his body lowers to meet you, dominating, peering. "say it again. minnie, say you want to ride my nose. i'll give you everything you ever wanted, pretty lady."
"Don’t call me that.. Michael, let’s just-"
"i will call you whatever i want, baby." he's mean. a new found confidence lies under his smug grin when he forcefully plops you onto his lap. he even had the audacity to shrug off your cardigan to reveal your white shirt that tightly wrapped around you. "say it, baby."
you look away from him, and in that moment, he lowers his face down, trying to catch your shy eyes while his nose grazes your cheeks, your jaw and your lips. "c'mon baby, say it," he whispers desperately. "please.." you look at him, warmth creeping onto your cheeks. you feel his length against you. "i wanna ride your nose," you mumble softly.
the confession was enough for him to shuffle his body flat on the bed and palm your bottoms, and your begging made it worse. he growls, literally growls and gropes your tits until you gasp. "sorry sweet girl, please.. just sit on me i-- please-" his mouth agapes when he sees your cute brows twist up while he pants with desperation.
"i wanna make you cum on my face.. please."
"Shit!" you cry, feeling your panty slicken as he dry humps your core through your frilly undergarments. he can't hide it. the way he's smiling through his bitten lips and creased brows. he can't fucking hide it the way he's been wanting it. "mm. shit- pretty girl." he groans, "so wet, all for me." you knew Michael was a fucking pervert, you felt his eyes only on you way before you began to deny it. you squirm under his touch, still anchoring on his lap while a finger catches your slick to lick.
"Michael..." you whimper, and he melts, cock still hard, now irritated. he clamps you down until the zip goes undone on itself from him rubbing you on his crotch. "s-wanna make your dreams come true." he grottles. "pretty girl. please. shit- just." he mutters.
"sit on me." he begs.
and so you do, lowering down slowly still in your panties as he clamps you down himself, "please, baby... sit." he begs, pushing your weight down onto him as you feel the vibrations of his moans against your core. his nose digs into your clit, rubbing against the fabric, rubbing against you as you slowly tilt your hips to grind on him. he slaps yours ass before ripping your panties to the side. "s-so eager.." you mumble, and he grips your thighs until you yelp in response. you're moaning through his fucking noises, his lips sloppy, slowly licking long strides against your folds while his nose catches your slick and rubs figures on your clit. "s-slow down! mike- I’m sensitive."
"S-sorry baby." his muffled response got you twitching with ease, perky tits and hard nipples rubbing against the headboard as you look down at the view, his brows peaking out and creasing in the way that which you know, he's enjoying it.
your hips shift slightly rough, tentative, testingg the waters. the weight of his hands on your thighs doesn’t falter, digging into you, holding you just firm enough to remind you he’s still there, still sloppily exploring your folds before your own mouth. still looking at you like you’re some kind of divine miracle; like he’s been starving for years. you shiver. his breath fans across your skin, uneven and warm, and your fingers rest against his soft curly hair, tangling, tugging when he nudges deeper into your clit. he pauses, pressing the slightest kiss to the inside of your thigh and you gasp, not because it surprises you, but because of how gentle it is. He looks at you as he stops, cock throbbing in his undone pants, hands unwaveringly still on your thighs as he gropes them, wanting more. waiting, for you to respond.
"Michael." you whisper, breathless, not knowing what you’re asking for. not knowing if you’re asking him to stop or to keep going or to never move again.
from beneath his lashes, cheeks flushed and lips parted, your tummy churns at the sight of his soft features, eyes eager and submitting at your body. you've never seen this perspective of him- and to feel it? so hot your breathe unevens. even with the way his grip tightens, even with how wrecked his breathing sounds, even with how his eyes are glazed over like you’re the only thing he sees. "You’re doing so good, f’me baby." your chest tightens at your own words, and you try to breathe through it. you try to stay focused, but the room feels too hot, your head too light, and all you can feel is the press of his fucking mouth and the tremble in your own legs.
you then try to form a sentence. something. anything.
but all that slips out is a broken moan and his name again, breathier this time. more vulnerable. more undone when he pushes you off of him, landing you on your back as as towers over you. he peppers kisses on your stomach, and you see his face glisten under the soft lights, painted in your own clumsy wetness. he kisses your thighs, whispering filthy praises as he bites the side for a while. he lifts your thighs onto his shoulders, you pant. "yes mike, please... you're so hot."
he hums at that, clearly pleased, clearly affected, and it sends a sensitive vibration through you that makes your thighs tighten instinctively around his shoulders. he doesn’t move. if anything, he pushes his rough tongue in further, lets himself sink into it. "been dreaming about this beautiful pussy." he groans against your walls, his soft eyes tearing up at the side of his hands and lips kissing your beautiful core. "let me be yours, please."
"i'll be so good. let me make love to you, let me eat you. shitt! i’ve got you. i promise." Michael practically begs while he laps at you. you clench around his head, tugging onto his curls while he deliberately uses his bridge to rile up your swollen clit. your moans only power him, your hands move down to his cheeks, cupping him gently, and you tilt his face up. he looks dazed, wrecked, so far gone, and yet, completely focused on you. the momentum starts to cave at a pace that makes you tremble, and Michael’s getting confident. way more confident.
you breathe in, eyes starting to sting at the corners from the intensity of it all, from the way he’s looking at you like you’re everything. like this moment is everything. you whimper.
"Mikey-," you say again, trembling. "i think i’m gonna-"
he nods like he already knows, like he’s been waiting for it, like he’s been holding himself back just to let you fall apart the way you need to. not rushed. not forced. he continues to lap onto you, through your shaky breaths and broken moans, your hips stuttering into his face while he precums into his briefs.
your fingers coil tighter in his hair. your back arches. and you let yourself break loud, you cum with a guttural moan that shakes your whole body to jerk up while sweet Michael moans into your core, feeling your heat wash up against him. he continues to rub circles with his tongue, kissing the sides of your folds as you try to calm down. Micheal’s hands left imprints on your thighs and waist, and he reclaims those mouldings again when you look at him like you've reached nirvana. "i just came. in- baby- i just came in my pants." he slightly chuckles, breathless as you reach for his warmth.
quieter, Micheal kisses the inside of your thighs before reaching your chin. he tilts them to his face, and you see his nose, lips and chin glossy with your mess. he's awkward, smiling, rosy cheeks and his eyes are pleading, hungry but, pleading. "You did so good f’me pretty, c-can i get a kiss?"
"you..let me sit on your nose, ride your face til i came in your mouth but you're shy to kiss me now?"
"i-i..just wanted to ask baby,"
Michael whines playfully, brows knitting as he nuzzles closer into your neck, kissing your jawline before he reaches your lips. he looks at them with thirst, looking back into your eyes. "i want my kiss..please.." and so you kiss him relentlessly, years of tension finally unsettling like the first wave of climax sent to shake down your body. you feel heat pool again when you straddle him, legs still a little firm to control. your slick panty gets thrown off to the side, and you strip your thin white shirt, watching Micheal’s eyes dart to your tits and flushed face.
"mike," you pause, eyes daring to look up at him dangerously, "now let me ride you." you watch his brows spring up, smirk on display as he lowers down to kiss you, deep and rough. "shit..that's my good girl..using her words." and the night was longer than it seemed.
mil talks ૮ • ﻌ - ა. i think ts was too rushed.. heh help >.< I’m working on a longer fic, just wanted to feed y’all <33 please let me know if u enjoyed. And if u wanna be added to the Taglist > here.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: smut , fingering , smut with plot , soft (subby) dom!mike , secretly engaged , unprotected (don't ever.) Michael basically makes you pregnant
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀: heavy angsty themes, unplanned pregnancy , cameo of j*e Jackson , forbidden love , fem!reader. secret engaged. both scared for their life's.
૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝒌𝒂𝒊': first ever long fic damnnnn to my long fic writers THIS IS THE WORST PAIN. so please LET ME KNOW (I'm begging yall.) if this was good! feedback & comments & reblogs IS ALWAYS appreciated. don't be scared to comment <33 ily.
𝟭 𝗮𝗺. 𝗛𝗮𝘆𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝟭𝟵𝟳𝟴.
𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍’𝒔 hand slid up to cup you jaw, thumb brushing softly over your cheek as he pulled you closer.
His lips met yours again, deeper this time, tongue teasing yours as he kissed like he’d been dreaming of this for years. You gasped softly into the kiss and your tug on his soft hair.
Eyes wide, full of longing and need, you whispered, "I need you, mike..." The words made him pause just long enough to glance down at you, chest heaving, a mixture of disbelief and desire in his eyes.
Your big eyes staring up at him, lips already swollen from his kisses, seemed to pull him in further.
He kissed you again, slower, savoring you, before his lips trailed to the side of your neck, his hand still gently cradling your jaw, teasing just enough to make you tremble.
Heat pooled low in your belly, and though nothing else had happened yet, every touch and kiss was enough to make it feel like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.
He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, eyes dark. His voice dropped low, rough with desire. "C-can I touch you?"
you swallowed hard and whispered, breathless, "Please..angel please..." His hand slid further under your shirt, fingers brushing over the soft curve of your breast through your bra. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and he immediately kissed you again.
slower and deeper this time. His mouth is warm and sure, hands trailing along your waist, slipping beneath your sleep dress to touch your bare skin.
His lips move to your neck, dragging along the sensitive skin just below your jaw. "you smell so heavenly...baby," he murmurs, voice sweet and innocent.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders. And when he slips a hand beneath your sleep dress, eyes locked on yours, his sweet voice drops to a whisper that sends shivers straight to your core,
"Let me make you feel good, yeah? but y' gotta be real quiet f'me okay?" His fingers slip, sliding over your panties and the moment he feels the dampness there, he lets out a low groan.
"F-Fuck, lovely." he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours for a beat. "already wet f'me?"
You nod shakily, unable to speak, hips twitching as he rubs slow, deliberate circles over your clothed slit. The pressure of his fingers through the thin fabric has you gasping, legs parting on instinct.
then he presses a little harder, and your breath hitches, your body arching into his hand with a quiet, needy whimper. Michael smiles against your neck, voice low and sweet. "Sound so sweet f’me, baby."
You shiver as his hands slide up your legs, thumbs brushing gently along your inner thighs. Then he leans in close, until his breath is hot and heavy right against your dripping cunt.
He doesn’t touch you yet. Just breathes. Watches. Fingers going up and down your slick folds as you writhe under him, desperate and aching. "Look at you," he murmurs, completely entranced.
His thumb swipes gently through your wetness. "My sweet beautiful girl." You bite your lip, a whimper slipping from your throat. "Shhh baby, we don't wanna wake the others up don't we?"
then, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, soft and lingering, before sliding his tongue slowly up your slit, groaning low against you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted.
The moment his tongue touches you, it’s over. He moans and whimpers low against your pussy like he’s tasting something he’s been craving for years.
He starts slow, teasing licks through your folds, lips wrapping around your clit just enough to make your whole body jolt. And then he does it again. And again. Each time a little rougher. A little wetter.
A little more desperate. "Fuuuck," he groans into you, hands gripping your thighs, keeping you open for him. "You taste so good, so good baby."
You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, hips lifting off the bed as he sucks your clit into his mouth. It’s messy, and dirty, the sounds of him licking you echoing through the room, wet and filthy and perfect.
Then suddenly, he’s slipping two fingers back inside you pushing in deep, curling them up in just the right way, and your moan breaks into a whimper. "Ngh—Michael—!" he groans again, like your voice alone is enough to make him lose it. Then he adds a third finger.
Your back arches, legs trembling as he fucks them into your soaked cunt fast and deep, his palm smacking softly against your skin with every thrust. His mouth never leaves your clit tongue flicking, sucking, devouring like it’s the only thing that matters.
"Let go, my sweet girl," he mumbles against you. "Wanna feel you." You’re already so close.
you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t stop yourself from grinding against his face like your body’s got a mind of its own. The pressure snaps.
you cry out, thighs clenching around his head as your orgasm crashes into you. Your fingers tug at his hair, your hips jerk, your moans breaking into soft, high pitched whines as you fall apart in his mouth. But Michael doesn’t stop.
He keeps licking. Keeps fucking his fingers into you like he wants to memorize the way you cum.
And when you finally start to go still, trembling and breathless beneath him, he pulls back just enough to kiss your inner thigh, lips swollen, chin glistening with your slick.
He crawls back up your body, kissing a trail from your trembling thighs to your stomach, over your chest, leaving warm, messy kisses across your skin before finally reaching your mouth.
He kisses you hard. Hungry, deep, desperate, his lips still slick from tasting you, his tongue dragging over yours like he needs more of you in every way.
You can feel how hard he is now, pressed between your thighs. It’s driving you crazy every movement, every breath just making it worse. Still kissing you, he breaks just long enough to whisper, breathless, "n-need to be inside you, baby. Can’t wait no more." You nod, dazed, still catching your breath.
michael shifts back, and in one smooth motion, he pushes his shorts and boxers down, finally freeing his cock.
You can’t help the soft gasp that leaves your lips, and Michael smirks through heavy breaths. He leans down again to kiss you, while his hand slides up your thigh.
Then suddenly, he grabs one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder. His other hand cups your breast, fingers squeezing, thumb brushing softly over your nipple as he lines himself up.
"Look at me..please baby." he murmurs, voice low and thick with heat. You do. And then he slides in.
Slow at first, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep inside you, your walls fluttering around him. You moan his name, back arching off the bed.
Michael’s jaw clenches, his hand tightening on your thigh. "F-Fuck, lovely…"
he groans, eyes fluttering shut for a second. "You feel—so good—fuck."
His hips start to move, deep, rolling thrusts that drag every inch of him along your soaked walls. He keeps your leg hooked over his shoulder, the angle letting him hit every sweet spot, his other hand still cupping your breast like he can’t get enough.
"So perfect…so tight for me—fuck!" he pants, voice all praise and heat. You moan louder, nails digging into his arms as he starts to pick up the pace,
hips slapping against yours, breath hot and ragged, all while he keeps watching your face like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Michael's rhythm starts to falter, his hips snapping faster, rougher, his breathing growing messier with each thrust.
His brows are furrowed and lips parted.
"Oh my goodness—shit baby," he moans, head dropping forward.
"Y-you feel so f-fucking good, baby—s-shit, you’re so tight—oh fuckk—" The way he says it, so breathless, whimpering, makes your whole body react.
Your walls clench down around him instinctively, squeezing him hard, and it pulls another choked moan straight from his throat. His voice breaks again.
"Ohhh f-fuck—just like that—my s-sweet g-girl.. shit—" He sounds so good. Ruined. Wrecked.
Like he’s completely unraveling inside you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, gasping for air, thighs trembling as he pounds into you deep and fast, hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.
Then he brings his hand down, finding your clit like he knows exactly what you need.
His fingers are messy, fast, rubbing tight circles in sync with his thrusts. You cry out, arching under him, clutching at his biceps as he holds himself over you and keeps fucking you through it.
"Yess m-mikey—!" you sob, voice high and desperate. He groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
"That’s it, sweet girl," he pants, kissing your jaw, your neck. "C-come on—cum for me again—please, I need to feel it—need to feel you fall apart on me."
You’re so close, your legs starting to shake, your fingers gripping him like a lifeline, your moans breaking into breathless little whimpers.
And all you can hear is him—moaning, gasping, whimpering, praising you like he’s gone completely stupid from how good you feel.
Your whole body locks up as that final wave crashes over you—tight and hot and overwhelming.
You cry out his name, legs shaking, back arching as you cum hard around him, fluttering and pulsing deep on his cock.
michael chokes on a moan—high, broken, wrecked. "fuuuck—so good—so fucking good, baby—"
He doesn't pull out in time, gritting his teeth through a loud, desperate groan as he grinds a little harder and spills in, all in your pussy, sticky and thick ropes of cum painting your skin while his hips twitch and his breath catches in short.
He collapses forward slightly, chest rising and falling, eyes still glazed with pleasure. Then his gaze drops down, seeing the mess he made of you, and he groans again, softer this time, like it’s too much to handle. "Shit,"
he breathes. "you’re so fucking perfect…" He leans in and kisses you slow and warm.
his hand brushes your cheek before moving to the nightstand, grabbing some tissue from a pack you kept there. "I got you." he murmurs.
you hum softly as he wipes you clean—gentle, patient, still pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, your shoulder, anywhere his mouth can reach.
And when he’s done, he tosses the tissues aside and crawls back into bed, settling in beside you. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his chest like he has to keep you close.
You feel his breath in your hair, slow and steady now. His hands finds your waist, his thumb stroking lazily over your skin.
Then he whispers, barely audible in the dark,
"I’m sorry..i'll clean you up better tomorrow yeah? Joseph and the rest are here..so there's not much I can do baby..."
You kiss him back sleepy. "It's okay angelface..you made me feel really..really good."
the room was dark and quiet.
Michael was already asleep beside you, one arm lazily draped across your waist, his breathing slow and steady.
for a moment, you let yourself pretend, pretend you weren't hiding, pretend there wasn't a ring tucked away where nobody could find it, pretend everything was okay.
Then your stomach hurt. You immediately sat up. a sharp wave of nausea hitting you out of nowhere.
Your hand flew to your mouth. "Oh goodness." The movement woke Michael instantly.
He was always like that. Light sleeper. The second you moved, he was awake. "lovely?" His voice was rough from sleep.
You pushed yourself off the bed. "Bathroom." He still doesn't understand what's going on. "Y'okay?"
No.
You weren't. You practically stumbled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. the nausea passed after a few minutes, but the panic did stay... because this wasn't the first time.
Suddenly all you could hear was your own heartbeat, Michael's face, The secret engagement ring and...Joe. Joe. Joe.
you leaned against the sink, trying to breathe, trying not to think. Because if you thought about it too hard...you'd start crying.
a soft knock.
"pretty baby?"
Michael. You closed your eyes. "I'm okay angel."
lie.
Because Michael knew you.The door opened a crack.Then he stepped inside. Concern written all over his face. "What happened?"
"N-Nothing baby..don't worry." Immediately —"Nah." His hand found yours. Cold fingers wrapping around cold fingers.
"Baby, What happened?" And that was all it took. Your eyes filled immediately. Michael's expression changed. "n-no." His voice dropped.
"What is it my baby? please..talk t'me baby...did I hurt you while we were makin' love?"
You couldn't even look at him, saying it out loud would make it real. "I think..." Your voice cracked. And suddenly you were crying. "I think I might be pregnant.." It was Completely silence.
Michael froze. For like one horrible second. Then again. You couldn't read his face. Then your chest hurt. "Mike...say something." His eyes finally lifted.
And fuck. He looked terrified. Just as terrified as you felt, i mean hello?....Secretly engaged. Living under the shadow of everybody else's opinions.
And now maybe—Maybe a baby.
A shaky breath left him.You watched him process it, the panic, fear and reality.
Then his hand squeezed yours tighter. not letting go. "Okay beautiful." You stared. "What?"
His voice wasn't steady...Not at all. But he kept talking anyway. "Okay."
"Michael—"
"W-we don't even know yet." His eyes were shiny now. "You hear me lovely?" You nodded.
"We don't know." Another squeeze. "But if y' are..." His voice cracked.
And for the first time all night he looked every bit as young as he actually was. Just a scared young adult.
"If y' are baby...wow." He swallowed hard. "We'll figure it out. 'kay?" Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.
Because that wasn't the problem, the baby wasn't even the problem. The problem was everything around it.
Joe.
all the pressure,The expectations, The way people already looked at you. Like you didn't belong. Like you were getting in the way.
Michael knew exactly what you were thinking.
Because he looked away. Jaw tightening.
"You talked to my Joseph again, didn't y'?" The question wasn't really a question.
You just stayed silent, and that was enough. Michael closed his eyes. Immediately understanding and angry. not at you, Michael was never mad at you.
At him. "What'd he say?" You shook your head. "Forget it."
"Beloved, talk t'me, What did that bastard say?" The hurt in your expression answered before you could.
And suddenly Michael looked sick. Because he already knew. He knew exactly what kind of things Joe said.
"He..thinks I ruined you.." The words came out before you could stop them. Michael's face darkened instantly. "He said that?" You looked down.
"He thinks I'm a problem." Michael couldn't believe it. "Baby, fuck... y'know you ain't the problem right?" The response came quickly.
"That fucking bustard, how dare he...fuck. i'm so mad.."
"M-michael, it's okay..you know how Joe is."
"I don’t care, he can not talk to my woman like that." His voice shook.
"You are not my problem." Tears slipped down your face. And that made him look even more upset, he hated when you cried.
Especially over things other people put in your head. Michael stepped closer. Both hands finding your face. Making you look at him.
"My Pretty baby, don't cry..listen to me okay?"
You could hear the emotion in his voice now. "I chose y'." Your breath caught. "I chose y'." He said it again.
like, he needed you to understand. he needed himself to understand. "They didn't choose y'...i did."
The bathroom felt too small for all the emotions trapped inside it.
Everything all tangled together. Michael looked down at your hand. At the hidden ring. Then back at you. You cried so hard.
The second your voice cracked in that bathroom—too loud, you already knew what was coming.
You just didn’t want to believe it. Michael was still in front of you, hands on your face, breathing uneven, trying to keep you steady like he always did when everything was falling apart.
But then—Footsteps. Down the hallway.
Both of you froze. Michael didn’t even have to look.His jaw tightened instantly. "No." You barely breathed it.
"Michael…" The knock came anyway. not soft also asking...a warning. Then the door opened.
Joe. He didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was already angry. His eyes moved first to you. Then to Michael. Then to the bathroom.
"Why the hell is there yelling in my house at this hour?"
Michael stepped slightly in front of you without even thinking. Protective. "Go back to your room."
Joe’s eyes narrowed. "I asked a question."
Michael didn’t move. "Leave." That one word changed the air. Joe walked in anyway. Joe Jackson didn’t ask permission in his own house.
His gaze landed on you again. Longer this time.
"Still here," he muttered. like you were something that had overstayed its welcome.
Your stomach dropped. Michael felt it.You could tell by the way his hand clenched slightly at his side.
"You don’t talk about her like that." Joe let out a short laugh. "Oh, I don’t?" A step closer.
"Then what the hell do you call it, Michael? Sneaking her into my house like this? Acting like I don’t see what she’s doing to you?" Michael’s breathing changed.
"She’s my fiancée." The word hit the room like a gunshot. Joe’s expression didn’t change at first. Then it hardened. "Your what?" Michael didn’t look away.
"Fiancée." You felt your blood run cold.
Because that wasn’t supposed to be said..not like this, not here.
𝐎𝐓𝐖 🍮🥄 ˚₊‧ your boyfriend's reaction to you being insecure in a bikini. ❤︎ 𝗽𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 , 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 , 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽. . ﹒ ﹒ ﹒ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) mini blurb.
𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 was waiting on the bed with his sunglasses in one hand when the bathroom door opened.
You nearly turned around and went right back inside. The bikini had looked fine in the store and fine in your hands.
But now, standing in front of him, suddenly felt ridiculous. Your arms folded instinctively across your stomach.
Michael saw that, his smile faded. not because he disliked what he saw. because he recognized insecurity the second it appeared. You looked away first. "i-it's ugly isn't it.." The mattress shifted quietly.
When you looked back, he'd already stood. "Why do you say that baby?" You shrugged Unable to explain it properly.
Michael stopped in front of you, Close enough now that you could smell his cologne also close enough that looking at him felt harder than wearing the bikini.
His eyes travelled slowly over you once.. taking you in. Appreciating. The look alone made heat creep into your face. Michael's expression softened. "Baby.. my beautiful lady..." You immediately looked down. That made him smile.
His fingers found your chin, lifting it gently until you looked at him again. "Look at me please.." You hated how nervous you felt. And he could tell.
His hand slid from your chin to your cheek. Thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You've been standing in that bathroom worryin' about this, haven't you?" You didn't answer. Michael laughed quietly. but not at you, never at you. It was the kind of laugh that said he'd already figured it out.
His other hand settled carefully at your waist. You felt your pulse immediately betray you.
"I don't like when you talk about yourself like that." His gaze dropped briefly. Then returned to yours. "Especially when I get to look at you." The words came out so naturally that they made the butterflies in your stomach active again. Michael seemed embarrassed the second he realized he'd said them out loud, His eyes flickered away.
a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, very shy. Always shy when he meant something. You loved that about him. "Michael..." He shook his head Still smiling to himself.
Then his hands settled at your waist properly Drawing you a fraction closer. "You know what I see?" His voice was quieter now. You shook your head. For a moment he simply looked at you. Like he couldn't believe you genuinely didn't know.
Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your forehead trailing down to your neck. His hands never leaving your waist."I see the prettiest girl I've ever known." You immediately groaned. Michael laughed. "Look at you."
"Michael Stop it. I'm serious."
"So am I baby." The answer came too quickly. His forehead rested lightly against yours. A smile still lingering on his lips. And suddenly he looked far more nervous than you did.
His thumb moved gently against your side, Back and forth. "I don't want you hiding from me, ever. do you hear me baby?" You looked up. Michael's eyes were impossibly soft. "If you're nervous, tell me you're nervous."
"But don't stand in front of me thinkin' there's somethin' wrong with you." His gaze dipped once more before returning to your face. A faint smile appearing again. "Because, baby...fuck." His hands squeezed your waist lightly. "There really isn't."
( 💌 𝓀𝒶𝒾; never be insecure my loves, you are truly beautiful the way u are! )
𝒉e's your 𝒃rother's 𝒃est friend. 𝒚ou're off limits to each other... so why does it never feel that way?
౨౿ 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 / angst / fluff .ᐟ ⊹──. oral sex ◟ munch!jaafaar ◟ cum eating ◟ ℱ.ᐟreader. both basically very dumb. 𝜗𐑞 ◟ ͜ ◞
Your grandma's house always had that warm feeling. It always smelled like lavender and cinnamon.
It was the kind of place that never changed. The same old floral curtains. The same squeaky hallway, same family photos hanging just a little crooked.
And apparently...The same attic that held thirty years' worth of things nobody had touched.
Grandma sighed dramatically as she looked up the staircase. "I wanted both of my grandchildren today." You smiled apologetically. "I know...."
"He promised me he'd come." She sighed again. "He really wanted to." She waved her hand. "I know, sweetheart. Work is work."
Just then, the front door opened. "Grandma?" a familiar voice called. "In the kitchen!" she answered. A moment later, Jaafar appeared in the doorway. curls hidden beneath his cap. A white t-shirt stretched across his shoulders, dark jeans, and two iced coffees balanced effortlessly in one hand.
He smiled the second he saw the two of you. "I brought reinforcements." Grandma's eyes lit up. "Oh, you're an angel." he smiles shyly. "I've been told." You raised an eyebrow. "By who?"
"Myself." You couldn't help but laugh. He held one of the coffees toward you. "For the poor soul who got volunteered." You roll your eyes. "You mean forced."
"Tomato, tomahto." You accepted it anyway. "...Thanks." He smiled. "You're welcome." Grandma clapped her hands together. "Wonderful." She pointed toward the hallway. "The attic." Both of you looked up. "...Do we have to?" you asked. "Yes." Jaafar sighed dramatically.
"I knew being the backup brother came with consequences." Grandma laughed. "If her brother couldn't make it, then you're the next best thing." Jaafar placed a hand over his heart. "I've waited years to hear those words."
"Oh please..."
"You know it's right."
An hour later...Dust covered almost everything. Old Christmas decorations, boxes filled with photo albums, three broken lamps, a sewing machine that probably hadn't worked since the nineties and so much more.
Jaafar dropped another heavy box beside the hallway wall. "I think I just aged...five years." You looked at him. "You've carried..." You counted. "...Four boxes." Before you could say something. Grandma appeared with another stack of blankets. "My room upstairs still needs sorting." You looked over. "My old room?" She nodded.
"There are still books, toys... all sorts of things." Jaafar smiled. "I think we deserve a smaller room." Grandma smiled sweetly. "I think you'll be fine." Your old bedroom looked exactly how you remembered it...faded wallpaper, the bookshelf filled with old novels, a tiny vanity covered in forgotten hair clips..even the glow in the dark stars were still stuck to the ceiling.
"...Wow." You slowly walked inside. "I haven't been in here forever." Jaafar wandered around behind you. "So this..." He picked up a tiny stuffed dinosaur from the shelf. "...was your kingdom?" You immediately reached for it. "Queendom, you mean." You corrected, then, He held it above his head.
"wow." You try to reach for it again. "J-jaafar." He grinned. "You seriously slept with this?" You nodded frantically. "I was seven."
"So cute." He teases. "Give it back." You warned. "Nope." You stepped closer. "I'm warning you."
"What are you gonna do?" You narrowed your eyes. "This." You reached for it. He laughed and stepped backward. "You've still got short legs."
"Oh, shut up."
"You can't reach."
"I absolutely can." He kept moving around the room while you followed. "You are so annoying." You finally caught the sleeve of his shirt. "Got you."
"Oh?" He turned. You tugged. He lost his balance. "Oh—" The old mattress caught both of you with a soft bounce. both of you laugh.
Jaafar rubbed the back of his neck. "I think your grandma just heard that." You pushed his shoulder...very lightly. He pushed yours back. "That's cheating." You shoved him again. He caught both of your wrists this time. "There."
"No, Jaafar! let go." You tried twisting away. He laughed. "You giving up?"
"Never." You leaned forward, trying to knock him off balance. Instead...He slipped. One second you were laughing but then—He was hovering above you.
One hand planted beside your head. The other still gently holding your wrist. The laughter disappeared, You suddenly became very aware of how close he was.
His eyes searched yours. "...You okay?" he asked quietly. You nodded. "...Yeah." both of you moved. You looked up at him. He looked down at you.
His eyes searched yours, then drifted—slowly—to your lips. Yours did the exact same. Back to his eyes. Then his lips....and again.
It almost felt like whoever moved first would change everything. Jaafar let out the smallest breath through his nose, a nervous laugh almost escaping. "I've imagined this more times than I'd like to admit..."
Your heart skipped. "...really?" He smiled, barely. "You have no idea." You swallowed. "I kept telling myself you were off limits."
"My brother's best friend," you whispered. "My best friend's little sister." a minute passed...
"You know..." you murmured. "What?"
"I'm grown now..." He kept looking at your lips. "I can see that, beautiful."
You bite your lips. "And you're still looking at me like I need permission." His eyes softened. "I think I'm asking for yours.." You didn't answer. Instead...You reached up. Your fingers curled lightly around the back of his neck.
He looked at you one last time, silently asking. You closed the distance first, and whispered; "then fuck me, Jaafar." and he wasted no time, The kiss landed hard. Just enough to make both of you smile against each other's lips.
His hand slid gently from your wrist to your waist, pulling you just a little closer. You kissed him again, way longer this time. He answered. Slowly at first...Then with a little more certainty. The kind of kiss that had been waiting years to happen. You smiled into it.
He laughed quietly against your lips. "I can't believe we're actually doing this, your. brother's gonna kill me.." he whispered. "Stop talking." You said breathlessly. "Oh?"
You pulled him back down before he could finish teasing you. He kissed you again, deeper this time, lingering just long enough to make you forget about the dusty room, the boxes, even why you had come upstairs in the first place.
His forehead rested against yours when you finally paused, both of you breathing a little heavier, unable to stop smiling.
⟡﹒ ◟ ﹒
You could feel the way he was hesitating, his fingertips barely grazing, almost shy. So you reached down, took one of his hands gently, and guided it under your joggers until it rested against the warm fabric of your panties. His eyes widened, his entire body freezing for a second. "Please…touch me." you pouted, your voice soft but desperate, looking up at him through your lashes.
Jaafar’s jaw clenched, his cheeks warming. "I–I…can't.." he stammered, clearly overwhelmed, but his fingers flexed ever so slightly against you, already feeling the dampness there. He swallowed, gaze flicking from your pleading expression to where his hand was between your legs, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening.
Slowly, hesitantly, he started to stroke you through the thin fabric, his breathing quickening with every tiny sound you made. The warmth and wetness beneath his touch sent a shiver through him, and when you whimpered soflty again, he bit his lip hard, fighting the urge to just tear the panties aside and fuck you right there and there.
Jaafar’s breath was coming faster now, his fingers rubbing gentle, nervous circles over your clothed clit. The friction had you rolling your hips down against his touch, but every movement also pressed you into the growing bulge beneath his pants. You couldn’t help it, you shifted closer, grinding lightly against him as his breath hitched, his other hand gripping the bed sheets like he didn’t know where else to put it.
You reached for that hand, guiding it up to your chest. His eyes flicked to yours in surprise, but when you placed it over your breast, his fingers curled instinctively, squeezing through your shirt and bra. The combination of his touches had you letting out a soft, shaky whimper against his lips, which made him groan quietly into the kiss. It wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel him, really feel him.
You broke the kiss for just a moment, your lips wet and swollen, and slid your joggers and panties down your thighs, kicking them aside on your old bed at your grandma's house. Without giving him time to process, you took his hand again, the one that had been rubbing you through the thin fabric, and guided it between your legs until his fingers met your bare, slick pussy.
jaafar froze, a sharp breath escaping him, His fingertips twitched slightly against you before he swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. "You’re…s-so warm." he whispered, almost like he was talking to himself.
His thumb kept rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking against his hand, chasing that sharp, sweet pleasure. Your breath came out in shaky bursts, his eyes glued to the way you moved for him.
His fingers moved inside you faster now, curling expertly as he matched the rhythm of your hips grinding against him. Every wet, slippery sound of your arousal seemed to drive him further, and he couldn’t help the small, shaky moans that escaped his lips.
You tugged at his hair, hard enough to make him gasp, and he let out a sharp, breathy whine, eyes closing for a split second. His pace didn’t falte. If anything, it quickened, fingers plunging deeper, curling just right to hit all the right spots. The room was filled with the slick, wet sounds of your pleasure and the occasional whimper or gasp that slipped past your lips.
You slowly peeled off your shirt and bra, tossing them aside, and he couldn’t stop staring. His hands trembled slightly, but finally he pulled his own shirt off, revealing the toned chest. Your breath hitched, and heat pooled low in your belly, you were already dripping just from looking at him.
he gazes down over your naked body with awe.
"Your really beautiful..." he murmurs, kissing down your neck and breasts, suckling for a moment on one nipple, making you moan softly and arch up into him, carding your fingers through his hair. "i’ll give you what you need, angel..trust me." he promises.
when he sinks into you, he nuzzles his face into your tummy, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin "Your so soft, beautiful. " he mumbles, scooting further and further down. "Want me to eat you out, princess?" he asks sweetly.
you couldn’t help but be turned on when he was like this. all soft and needy for you. nodding in approval, allowing him to lay between your legs. he decides this isn’t good enough and throws your thighs over his shoulders. "such a pretty pussy.." he licks his lips, eyes dancing over your flesh. the praise goes straight to your core, clenching around nothing and he smiles.
"So ready for me..mmh." he leans in slowly, tongue finding your clit first like a magnet. "mmh.." he hums, swirling and flicking it slowly. you let out a quiet breath, getting comfortable under him.
his arms were hooked under your thighs, thumbs spreading your folds open. Jaafar seals his mouth around your clit, sucking softly with sounds that go to your head. "j-jaafar..." you sigh, watching him. he pulls away enough to speak. "you like that, baby? i know you do.." then he’s leaning back down, tongue licking a long, slow trail from your entrance to your clit, setting spit dribble down it afterwards.
"shittt, you taste so good..." he mutters, eyes closing as he gets lost in making you feel good. he makes out with your pussy messily, tongue plunging in your hole every now and then. "fuck.." you moan, hips rolling up to his face, making your clit nudge his nose now. he leans in more, shaking his head a little with more pressure.
as you get wetter, he sucks it all up, tongue flicking relentlessly as he works you closer to the edge. "jaafar, shit—" you tug at his hair, pulling a moan out of him that vibrates against you. "close, princess?" he murmurs into your pussy, thumb rubbing over your clit quickly as he fucks his warm tongue in and out of you.
you nod eagerly, rolling your hips to his face and he just takes it. he was a pleaser. "fuck j—c-cumming!" your body twitched as your orgasm washed over you, seeing stars as jaafar kept licking and lapping up every drop. his tongue swirling around in your hole, hoping to get any and every last taste of your cum.
only when you started whimpering and jerking, he slowed down and pulled away, face messy with your slick. "god, beautiful, you’re so perfect. can i get another?" he pleads in an almost innocent tone, lips kissing your inner thighs. you’d be here all night if it was up to him.
You were just about to answer—
BZZZZT.
Your phone vibrated loudly across the wooden floor..It buzzed again. You both slowly turned your heads.
📞 Big Brother Calling...
Jaafar closed his eyes. "...You've got to be kidding me." Jaafar stared at the phone. Then he looked at you, between your legs. You covered your face with both hands. "Oh no..."
no no no! i'm still here, i just lost a lot of motivation & I've been very busy with life (+ mjblr is messy asl the last days.) but, i'm just reblogging i'll be back dw <3 i love you anon.
I’m so sorry for asking again I’m Literally desperate Can u do Janet x femreader please with shower sex and make sure u include that showerhead 👀👀👀👀
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Moist • Janet x reader
⤷ ゛Synopsis ˎˊ˗ Janet just can't help but touch you in the shower
𑣲⋆ warnings : Shower sex. Use of shower head. Lots of fingering 🙂↕️
There was nothing better than the feeling of warm water against your skin. The steam loosened up all the stress that you’d been feeling from the day as Janet pressed one of those needy kisses against the back of your neck, her hands wrapped around your wet body, droplets of water sliding down your bodies as she let out a satisfied breath. Her hands dropping down to your hips.
"Jan," you whispered, but it was just barely heard above the sounds of the water splashing against the perfectly tiled shower floor.
"Yeah, baby?” You already knew what she was trying to do, running her wet fingers up and down your waist like she couldn't help but touch you.
"I'm trying to shower and you're in here being nasty," you giggle, rolling your eyes.
“You think so?”
“I know you." Her fingers ran up and down your skin before pressing a delicate kiss to the crook of your neck.
"C'mon, let me play with you a bit," she spoke in that soft, sensual tone, her fingers stopping just below your breasts, drops of water falling against her fingers. The heat from the water combined with the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other, creating the sensation that the water could evaporate at any moment in the enclosed space.
"Mm, I want you to." You turned to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing one of those desperately needed kisses to her soft lips, earning a low, pleased hum, her hands finally settling down at your waist before pulling away. Her lips settling on your damp collarbone. The pads of her fingers are messing with the sensitive bud of your nipple, earning a low whimper.
Her movements were slow and deliberate as she trailed her fingers in between your thighs, your core aching painfully as she slipped a finger inside, curling it slightly. Your fingers wrapped around her forearm, digging into the skin. Walls clamped down on her finger as she added another one. Your head falls against her chest as your back presses up against the glass walls of the shower.
"Shit, your fingers are so good," you whined, your legs almost feeling like they could give out as she pumped her fingers in and out. The wet squelching sound mixed with the usual sounds of the shower.
Her thumb rubbed lazy circles around your clit before deciding that it wasn't enough, letting her fingers still move fluidly inside you, grabbing the showerhead to place it a good distance away from your clit.
“Is that good? Tell me how good that feels," she cooed.
"It's so good; keep doing that—fuck." Your legs felt like jello; the only thing holding you up was the glass wall. The ache that pooled in between your legs only intensified that rope that threatened to snap as you ran your fingers down her body, landing down at the sensitive bud of her clit, gently rubbing at it before sliding your finger past her folds, making her hand drop. The pressure from the showerhead is subsiding.
“Oh—” she whispered, the steam from the shower, your fingers stuffed in between her gummy walls that couldn't help but flutter against your fingers, sucking you in almost felt too much, mixed with the sweet sounds of moans, heavy breathing, and whimpers as you reached your high. Your body lurching forward instinctively as you cried out, your free hand digging into her slick skin as your fingers curled with each pump of your fingers as she guided you through your high.
Her hips rocked gently against your fingers, the desperation of finally reaching that high getting to her, making her head spin, hazy with flat-out desire.
“Mm, you're doing so good; use that shower head," she whined, feeling the sudden feeling of water shooting against the sensitive spot.
"That's it; I'm so close." Her breathing sped up, seeming louder than the water that was slapping against the tile.
"Jan, please come for me." You could tell she was on the verge of giving in. Her body slumped against yours, damp bodies pressed tightly together as if it were the last time you'd experience each other's touch. Her hips sputtering uncontrollably against your hand, her face twisting into something that was beyond pleasure as her high came and went in waves, a giggle brushing past your lips from watching her knitted face.
❤︎ 🗝️. 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 looks for after the 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡. the entire evening he'd been smiling until his cheeks hurt, shaking hands, thanking producers, hugging everybody who had anything to do with the album, accepting congratulations from people he barely knew. cameras flashing every few seconds. music still echoing through the ballroom. everybody wanting five minutes of michael jackson.
all he wanted... was five minutes with you. so the second the elevator doors close behind the two of you, something changes. the smile he'd been politely wearing all night softens into one that's completely different. the one that belongs to you.
it's almost funny how impatient he gets.the hotel hallway isn't even that long, but somehow he's already reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like he'd been waiting hours to do it. you laugh because he's practically dragging you toward the room. "mike..."
"hold on..."
"we're almost there." except he doesn't. the key barely makes it into the lock before he's looking at you again, grinning so hard you can't help smiling back.the door swings open. he doesn't even wait to close it properly before stealing a quick kiss.then another. you laugh into the next one. "baby..."
"what?"
"the door."
"one second."
he says it without looking away from you. eventually he reaches behind himself, blindly pushing it shut with his foot.
there. better.
the suite is finally quiet. just the distant hum of london outside the windows and the soft lamp beside the enormous hotel bed. he lets out the biggest sigh. the kind that sounds like he's been holding it in all evening. "c'mere." you don't even think about it. somehow the two of you end up sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket long forgotten over the back of a chair, his bow tie hanging crooked after hours of being tugged at. you're tucked comfortably against him, one hand finding the soft curls at the back of his neck, gently running your fingers through them.his eyes close immediately. "mm..." he practically melts. "feels nice, applehead?"
"don't stop." it's so automatic that you smile. all night people had been fixing his jacket, straightening his collar, touching his shoulder to congratulate him.
but this... this is different. this is home. you brush one small stubborn curl away from his forehead. "you did really good tonight, baby." his eyes open. he looks at you with that shy little smile that somehow survives every sold out show and every standing ovation. "oh yeah, angel?" he asks quietly. "yeah."
"you really think so?" you almost laugh. "michael..." your thumb brushes his cheek. "i've never been more proud of you." he looks downfor a second. then back up. like he wants to believe you. like hearing it from you somehow means more than hearing it from an entire ballroom full of people. "i was nervous." he admits so softly you almost miss it. "i know baby."
"thought maybe..." he shrugs. "i don't know."
"you were amazing baby." another tiny smile. "thanks, angel." he leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. just breathing for a moment. letting the night settle.
after everything... after all the applause...
after all the noise... this is the part he'll remember. eventually you nudge his shoulder. "alright."
"what?"
"go brush your teeth." he groans dramatically. "do i have to?"
"yes."
"five more minutes baby."
"michael."
"two." you laugh."one." he sighs like you've asked him to climb a mountain, finally standing up before reaching a hand back toward you. "c'mon."
"Huh, where?"
"if i gotta get ready for bed..." that crooked grin appears again. "...you're comin' with me."
so the two of you end up standing side by side in the big marble bathroom, taking turns at the sink, bumping elbows, laughing over absolutely nothing while his tuxedo jacket hangs forgotten over a chair and tomorrow's schedule sits unopened on the desk. because the world could have michael jackson for a few hours. but at the end of the night... he always came back to being just your boy. ❤︎
. ⊹ 🍮🥄 ៹ ݁ How kissing & life would be with 1976 bf braces michael!
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆let’s talk about 1976 michael! becoming completely obsessed with the fact that you both have braces. not in a weird way—he just thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. he catches himself smiling every time you laugh because the little flash of silver reminds him that he isn't the only teenager dealing with sore teeth, broken brackets, and being told not to eat caramel every other week.
he notices everything. the way you subconsciously cover your mouth when you laugh too hard. the way you refuse to smile in photos until he tells you to stop hiding. eventually he starts smiling with his teeth on purpose whenever you're around, hoping you'll realize neither of you has anything to be embarrassed about. after you've been dating for a while, kissing becomes less scary than either of you expected. there are still the occasional tiny bumps of metal that make both of you stop for a second before laughing, foreheads resting together while michael quietly mumbles, "we're gettin' better at this."
he likes that it's something only the two of you understand. nobody else gets why the two of you randomly grin at each other after orthodontist appointments, or why he immediately notices when you switch the color of your bands. he definitely notices. every single time.
sometimes he'll spend half of rehearsal distracted because you've changed from pink to red. and when someone jokingly tells you you'd both look "so much better" once the braces come off, michael almost looks offended on your behalf. because, honestly? he doesn't think they take anything away from you.
if anything, he thinks they make your smile even sweeter. he'd probably miss them a little once they're gone, not because he likes braces themselves, but because they'd become part of this little chapter of growing up together. something only the two of you shared. years later, he'd still laugh whenever he'd find an old polaroid of the two of you, all afros, bell-bottoms, wide smiles, matching silver brackets catching the sunlight without either of you caring anymore. <3
whenever he kisses you. at first he was so careful, stopping every few seconds because he was terrified of bumping your brackets or hurting you. now he just naturally knows how to tilt his head, how to move a little slower, how to smile against your lips when you accidentally laugh halfway through. it's become something only the two of you understand. sometimes you'll pull away after a kiss with the tiniest click of metal, both of you freezing for a second before dissolving into quiet laughter. michael always laughs first. not because it's embarrassing, but because somehow every awkward little moment feels special when it's with you.
he starts finding reasons to kiss you more often than necessary. before rehearsal. after rehearsal. when you hand him his jacket. when you tell him goodnight. sometimes just because you smiled at him from across the room.
he'll lean in like it's the most natural thing in the world, one hand tucked into the pocket of his flared jeans while the other gently cups your cheek, smiling into the kiss because he already knows you're smiling too. he secretly loves that your braces make you both slow down.
there's no rushing. no dramatic movie kisses. just two teenagers learning each other a little more every day. and every now and then he'll pull away only an inch, forehead resting against yours, looking at you with the biggest grin. "...still not tired of kissin' me?" you'll shake your head before he can even finish asking. he smiles even wider. "Oh you pretty girl." then he kisses you again anyway. not because he needs to. just because he can.
later that night, lying in bed, he'll catch himself touching his own braces while thinking about you. it makes him laugh, realizing the thing he'd once been so self-conscious about has somehow become one of his favorite reminders of being seventeen, because every memory attached to those silver brackets somehow includes you.
yousharknotpass
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