⋆𓏲ּ𝄢 1995 || HIStory era || husband!michael.j x wife!reader ⋆𓏲ּ𝄢
this has been in my drafts for a while im not a big fan of it but ✌️
ִֶָ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚ synopsis: you and michael get asked that same question once again and michael cant help but reminisce to the steamy night before
۶ৎ˖ִ ˚ wc: 2.1k
ִֶָ۶ৎ˖ִ ˚ cw: invasive media questions, sub!michael, dry humping, p in v sex, cowgirl!pos, creampie, kissing, touching, teasing/flirting, mdni !! not exactly proofread
“Are you two intimate?”
You internally roll your eyes. Live audience questions were always asking about you and Michael’s sex life. No matter how many times Michael dodged the question, it always came back to the same invasive curiosity, dressed up as harmless interest.
You look over to him, catching the same awkward smile he always gave every time the topic was brought up. He can't even look at you, staring somewhere by his shoes, he hesitates. “Why do you guys always ask this?-“ he tries to laugh it off. You can't help the faint grin quirking up at the corner of your lip knowing everything he's not saying.
Because he cant.
Its never that simple.
Michael couldn’t tell the journalist and the thousands of fans watching live how, just the night before, he’d been lounging on his bed, half-watching whatever was on TV. More focused on waiting for you to come out of the bathroom, listening for the water to shut off, for your wet footsteps on the floor because he simply couldn't resist you.
Michael turned his head towards the sound of the doorknob, brown eyes locking onto you instantly. Enjoying the way that the towel was draped loosely, a single fold hiding nothing. The dip of your cleavage, the damp curve of your shoulders decorated with small beads of water. his gaze flicking up to betray him, taking slow, heated sweeps down and back up.
“Miss me?” you ask, breaking the quiet.
Of course he did, it was only yesterday when he was holding a show, which was “Great.” in his words as usually you’d be sitting there front row cheering him on from the second he took stage. Except this time, you’d had other plans.
Plans that involved missing the show altogether.
Michael understood you had other things to do outside of being the love of his life. And he knew you couldn’t always just drop everything for him 24/7.
He knew that. Really, he did.
But that didn’t change the fact your absence yesterday still bothered him.
“Always, my angel," he murmured as you padded over now dressed in nothing but a loose camisole and panties, slipping between his spread legs where he sat on the edge of the bed. His large hands slid to your hips, slightly tugging you some inches closer.
“Are you still upset about the show?” Your fingers absently traced his jaw; the other sliding down the column of his neck as you tried to read his expression.
“What? No.” he was always such a terrible liar.
“Right,” you answered not buying it at all. “Michael, baby, you do understand that i was busy right?”
‘Busy’ the word alone making Michael’s fingers tighten briefly. “Yes, I know that.” his eyes glinting with something suspiciously close to mischief. “But you’re not busy now..”
‘Nice try’ you thought.
“Irresponsible,” you snipped at the obvious flirt. "You’ve got that interview at eight." the reminder’ a weak attempt at scolding the man, when you were really tempting him to choose wrongly. And he always did.
You saw him wince at the mention of his schedule, “Yeah..”
"Besides," you teased, letting your hands slip from his face, "you’ll be too wrecked by the morning." A smirk tugged at your lips. "And you can’t skip another one. It’s a bad habit, Mikey."
Michael caught your wrists before you could pull away, guiding them to his shoulders, only for his grip to slide right back to your hips. With a gentle tug, he settled you into his lap, his fingers digging in with just enough pressure to make you stay, “I know, I know-” his eyes swept across the floor, restless. “I just can't help it when-” he trailed off, but a kiss stole his words, smothering whatever excuse he was going to feed you.
In all honesty you understood his complaints, with all the am radio rounds and back to back interviews, you and michael barely stole five minutes alone without either of you passing out the moment you hit the bedroom. So if he was a little needy tonight? You wouldn’t blame him. Because, hell.
You were too.
Michael melted into the kiss, and you followed suit; lips parted on a breath as his warm tongue slide against yours, slow and searching. The taste of him was intoxicating, the way he always kissed like you were going to disappear the second he pulled away.
Your palm smoothed over his nightshirt to rest just above his quickening heartbeat, that throbbed in sync with his now growing print pressing against you eagerly. Michael noticed his bodys reaction and broke from the kiss, you could feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off of him. Too shamed to open his eyes to your smug expression he knew all too well. It was almost cute how, even after all these years together, some things just never changed.
“Already, michael?” God he loved the way you’d say his name like that. so tormenting. It was cruel. You adjusted your hips discreetly angling against his hard on flush against your clit.
A breathy moan escaped Michaels lips, gripping your hips trying to ground himself. Your focus drifted to his bambi eyes, catching the glint of desire he always so desperately tried to hide. “Can i?” he asked already reaching for your cami. Pathetic.
Your hum of consent is all the permission he needs—his hands already dragging the fabric up, peeling it over your head with deliberate slowness. The air hits your skin, cool against the heat of his gaze as it drops to your tits, perky and flushed, your nipples already peaking for him.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered more so to himself, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You cant help but enjoy the praise simpering slightly.
Michael drew near, trailing slow, feather-light kisses down the valley between your tits, his thumb reaching up to roll around your pert nipple.
This weakness made you crack, a low whine slipping past your lips as your fingers slid into his hair, guiding his mouth to your now swollen breasts and with him this close you could smell his cologne, the warm spice of his scent lingered in the air between you, and your hand instinctively curled a little tighter. youd only complimented it once, and from that day on it had become his signature.
Michaels tongue swirled around your aching peak, teasing before pulling it between his lips. The wet heat made you shudder as he released with a soft pop, leaving your peak glistening and sensitive. Not only that but you were practically dripping through your thin panties, you would only imagine the dark puddle you were leaving on his expensive, pants.
You rocked your hips along the hard ridge of his cock through his pants once more, his eyes squeezing shut again at the familiar feeling, completely and utterly weak for you just as he always was. “You’re getting my pants all wet.” he murmured, voice dripping with practiced charm—even if strained.
“‘S pretty.” Michael's large palms slid up your un seemingly trembling thighs, slow and reverent. One of his thumbs then brush against the delicate lace at the edge of your panties.
You suck in a shallow breath.
His eyes looked up to your face briefly, before his right thumb hooked under the fabric just below your core... and gently pulling it aside, the wet string between the cotton and flesh a lewd sight of just how desperate you were for him. Your eyes narrowed at his burning stare, “Pervert.”
Michael’s grin was all performance—that practiced, polite smile he wore for cameras and strangers.
“What? Never. I’m a gentleman.” the lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly as his slender fingers trailed through your slickness, warm, sticky from earlier arousal. His middle finger paused at your entrance, pressing just the lightest circle there, a teasing graze.
You bite your tongue not wanting to give him the pleasure of your reaction letting him continue his ministrations as you started to work on his waistband, because two could play that game. Your fingers grope for the zipper to his pants taking it down and pulling his boxers down with it, freeing his twitching shaft.
His leg tenses at the sudden exposure, a faint laugh escaping him as he pleads, “Baby, wait.”
“You want me to wait?” your hand was already wrapping around his manhood, giving him a stroke.
Michaels jaw clenched as he watched your thumb smear his pre, his hips jerked slightly into your palm. Pathetic. You’d only been holding his cock and he was already wrecked. A whimper escaped him, helpless against your slow paced ministrations.
“You ready, pretty?” you patronised sweetly, fully aware he was already struggling to keep it together.
“Don’t-” Michael’s protest died in his throat the second your thumb circled again, “Yes, god yes I’m ready.”
In one smooth motion you take his thick cock all the way inside your gummy walls to the hilt. Perfect. Fucking. Fit. You dont even feel like moving yet— just wanting to savour the feeling of having your cunt stuffed after weeks of nothing but constant press and overcrowded itineraries. Though after all they do say ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’.
“Feels good, angel” michael croaked revelling in the feeling of your snug walls.
You bit your lip as you began to move your hips, inch by inch, feeling him stretch you open until you could barely breathe. Your nails dug into his arms forming small crescent grooves, desperate for something to hold onto. Michael hissed at the sting, his hands gliding down to your ass, groping greedily at the fat, needing you just as much as you did him. “You like that, mikey?” you ground your hips down against his.
You can feel Michaels dick twitching inside your tight heat needy and oh so close. A thin sheen of sweat beaded along his forehead, his head lolling back now, nothing but broken little sounds and strained whines slipping past his lips.
“Just like that,doll” he managed, trying poorly to jerk his hips up in weak little thrusts to match the dangerous pace you’d set.
Your eyes dipped to the sticky mess of precum and arousal that glistened between you making wet obscene plaps as your skin connected each time. His face was so pretty like this; flushed, damp with sweat, mouth parted, all soft and spent beneath you. It pulled something greedy out of you.
You crashed your lips to his in a wet, sloppy kiss, swallowing the sweet little moan he let out for you. The sound went straight between your legs, and you clenched around him hard enough to make his whole body tremble beneath you.
Your chest pressed flush to his, your nipples dragging against the thin fabric of his night shirt every time your bodies met. The soft, damp cotton only made it worse the friction enough to make your breath hitch into his mouth as you kissed him, slow and sloppy, grinding down on him while he trembled beneath you.
“Angel, I-” Michael stuttered, voice ragged as his head tipped back again.
He wanted to cum so bad, you could feel it in the way his cock flexed inside you and how his brows stitched together tightly, but he was holding back for you. He always tried so hard not to ‘ruin it’ for you because it almost always got to his head whenever he came first makinh him feeling all guilty. It wasn’t easy, but he always tried his best to be good for his wife—even when you made it stupidly hard. Literally.
You answered with a soft hum and a roll of your hips. The beat between your legs got harder to ignore and Michael must have felt it near the base of him because one hand left the swell of your ass and slipped between you to find your needy little pearl. His thumb flicked over it fast and hard enough to make your breath catch as you started riding his cock with abandon, seeing stars you mewl, “Michael!”
your pussy spasmed around him, your stomach twisting in knots. You felt the warm liquid drooling from your insides and dripping down his base and balls making michael shiver, as you rode him with reckless abandon.
Orgasm hits as his palm slammed against your clit, the vice grip of your warm walls squeezing every last drop of hot cum out of him as he shoots deep inside your hungry cunt, his eyelashes damp with bliss. At least this time you came first right?
“Mr. Jackson?”
He blinks snapping upright, the bright studio lights rushing back into focus. “Are you okay?” the interviewer asks confusion written all over her face.
Michael clears his throat smiling sheepishly, heat blooming across his cheeks as he quickly straightened in his seat and smoothed a hand over his pants.
The set was still vibrating with music when everything changed.
“Cut! Reset for lighting—”
The director’s voice echoed across the studio, swallowed almost instantly by the bassline still thudding through the speakers. Michael stood under the hot wash of red and violet lights, dressed head-to-toe in that unmistakable red leather; sharp shoulders, sculpted lines, the costume that made him look almost unreal under camera glare. He was mid-performance mode, still half inside the character of the song, breathing slightly hard, eyes focused, intent.
Then, he saw his assistant answer his personal phone.
Michael frowned slightly, stepping back from the choreography mark. A production assistant moved to intercept it, but something in his expression stopped them. He took it.
The moment he took it from her, everything else in the room seemed to blur.
At first, he didn’t speak. Just listened.
Then his face changed, shocked and still.
The kind of stillness that spreads through someone when the ground under them disappears without warning.
“What do you mean..:” his voice broke slightly, then steadied itself again, forced calm. “No, no—tell me exactly what happened.”
A pause.
Then softer, almost whispering now:
“Y/N…”
Across the studio, someone called his name. Then again, but it was like he was already gone from the room.
When he finally hung up, he didn’t explain. Not properly, he just looked at the assistant closest to him.
“I need to go.”
“The shoot, Michael, we’re still—”
“I need to go, it’s the baby” he repeated, quieter but firmer.
And then he was moving.
No argument, no hesitation and an entourage scrambling . Just him slipping out of a world of cameras and choreography heading to his next greatest adventure.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive was a blur he didn’t remember in pieces, only in sensations.
The grip of the car seat under his hands, the way his heart refused to slow down. The unbearable repetition of one thought;
Not yet. Not like this. Not alone.
He sent a silent prayer “keep my girl safe and please don’t take her from me.”
Y/N hadn’t told him everything.
That part stung in a quiet way because he understood her too well. She always tried to protect him from panic, from disruption, from anything that might pull him away from work he felt responsible for. He could almost hear her voice in his head, soft and careful,
Finish the shoot first, then come home to me. I’m fine. Don’t worry.
But now she was in labour.
And she was in hospital.
And he was not there.
That was all that mattered.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Cedar Sinai was too bright.
Everything in it felt too clean for what was happening inside it, too white, too fluorescent, too indifferent to the fact that life was changing in one of its rooms.
Michael didn’t stop for security properly. People turned their heads as he passed, recognition blooming slowly, disbelief following right after, but he was already moving too fast to be anything but a man on a mission.
And then he saw it.
The labour ward corridor.
A nurse turned toward him, startled.
“Sir, you can’t”
“Y/N Jackson, I’m her husband,” he said immediately, breath tight, voice gentle but urgent. “Y/N. Please.”
Something in his face must have convinced her, because after a second she stepped aside.
And then he was there, at the door.
For one moment, he just stood still again.
Like his body needed time to accept that this was real.
Then he pushed it open.
~~~~~~~~~
The room was soft chaos, quiet but intense, the hum of machines, the focused calm of medical voices moving like rhythm around her.
And there she was.
Y/N.
Hair slightly damp, face flushed with effort and eyes half-lidded but searching.
And the moment she saw him, it was like the world tilted into something softer.
“What? baby?” she started, then immediately stopped, breath catching, because it hurt too much to laugh and cry at the same time. “Michael…”
He crossed the room in three steps, still in full red leather, still impossibly out of place in a room designed for something so raw and human.
And yet, he belonged there more than anything else.
He reached her bedside carefully, like she was something sacred he might break just by moving too fast.
“I’m here, girl” he said.
Her eyes flicked over him, incredulous, tear-bright.
“You’re—” she paused, breath shaking as another contraction passed through her. “What are you wearing?!.”
A weak, breathless laugh escaped him despite everything.
“I came as quickly as I could.”
“That’s not—” she squeezed his hand hard, grounding herself through pain and emotion at once. “That is so not fair, Michael. I am literally—” she gasped, then steadied, forehead dropping briefly, “—giving birth and you show up looking like that.”
He leaned closer instantly, brushing damp hair from her face.
“I didn’t choose the timing” he whispered.
Her grip tightened on him.
But she didn’t let go.
Neither did he.
~~~~~~~~~
The hours blurred after that in fragments of light and sound and held breath.
Michael never left her side.
He stayed close enough that she could always find him, his hand in hers, his voice low whenever she needed it, his presence a steady anchor through every wave of intensity. The world outside the room stopped existing entirely. The tour, the music video, the cameras, it all became irrelevant noise that didn’t matter anymore.
At one point, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently to hers.
“I’m so proud of you” he said quietly.
Her eyes fluttered open, tired but warm.
“You say that like I haven’t been crushing your hand for the last hour”
“I know” he whispered. “And you’re still… you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
That made her eyes fill again, softer this time.
“Stop, applehead” she breathed. “You’re going to make me cry and they said I shouldn’t waste energy on you.”
A faint laugh escaped him, shaky and overwhelmed.
“I don’t think you’re wasting energy on me?.”
“You don’t think? I’m literally birthing a you” she teased weakly.
“Girl” he gasped scandalised.
~~~~~~~~~~
And then everything shifted again.
A different kind of urgency filled the room, not panic, but focus sharpened into finality.
Michael felt Y/N squeeze his hand tighter than she had all night.
Her eyes locked onto his.
And he understood without words.
He leaned in immediately.
“I’m here” he repeated softly. “I’m right here, baby.”
The world narrowed to her breathing, his hand in hers, the steady guidance of the room around them, and the feeling that something impossibly large was arriving.
And then, a cry.
Small. Sharp. Real.
The kind of sound that splits the world into before and after.
Michael froze completely.
Y/N let out a broken, exhausted laugh through tears.
And then the nurse moved, and a second later, a tiny, living presence was placed into the world.
Into their world.
For a moment, Michael couldn’t breathe at all.
He just stared.
Like he didn’t trust that something so small could be real.
Then Y/N whispered, barely audible “Michael…”
He looked at her first, always her first.
Her eyes were wet, smiling, exhausted beyond words.
“It’s our son.”
Something in him broke open so completely it didn’t feel like breaking, it felt like expanding.
He reached out with trembling hands, as if afraid his touch might change everything too much.
And when he finally held him, the entire universe went quiet.
Michael’s head bowed instinctively, his forehead almost touching the baby’s, his voice barely there, “Hi…”
A pause.
Then softer, shaking with emotion he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Behind him, Y/N watched through tears unable to help herself, whispering,“You came in red leather for this…”
And Michael, still completely undone, gave the smallest, most helpless smile with a giggle.
“I told you I’d be here.”
And he had.
In every way that mattered.
~~~~~~~~
The room had finally softened into something like peace.
Their son lay against Y/N’s chest, wrapped in hospital blankets that still looked too large for him, his tiny breaths steadying into a rhythm that made the whole room feel quieter just by existing. Every so often he made a small sound, barely there, almost like a reminder that he was real and not something dreamt up in the middle of exhaustion and love.
Michael stayed close to the bed, still half suspended between disbelief and awe. The red leather was gone now, folded and left behind somewhere like a version of himself that didn’t belong in this moment anymore. What remained was just him, bare arms, open expression, eyes that hadn’t left Y/N or the baby for more than a second.
He reached out carefully, almost instinctively, letting his fingertip hover near their son’s tiny hand. The baby’s fingers curled weakly at the air, and Michael smiled like that alone meant something enormous.
Y/N watched him for a moment, then spoke softly.
“You’re staring.”
“I can’t help it” he replied immediately.
Her lips curved faintly, tired but warm.
A quiet settled between them again, comfortable now, no urgency left to chase.
Then Y/N shifted slightly, adjusting him closer, and turned her head toward him in a way that made Michael look up properly.
“I’ve been thinking” she said.
Michael’s expression softened at once. “About what?”
She glanced down at their son, then back at him.
“His name.”
“Prince” Michael said gently, as if still testing the reality of it.
She nodded. “Prince.”
A pause.
“But I don’t want it to just be that.”
Michael tilted his head slightly, listening fully now.
Y/N exhaled, steady but certain.
“I want his middle name to be Michael.”
The words landed softly, but they didn’t leave.
Michael didn’t respond straight away.
His face changed in the smallest way, like something inside him had gone still just to understand what he’d heard properly.
“Michael?” he repeated quietly.
She nodded. “Yes. Michael.”
Then, softer, more certain:
“Because he’s ours, but also because I want him to carry you with him.”
That did it.
Michael’s breath caught, small, quiet, like the air had shifted direction in his chest. His eyes dropped to Prince again, as if seeing him for the first time all over again, not just as a newborn, but as something that already held meaning far beyond the room.
“I don’t know if I deserve that, baby” he said honestly.
Y/N reached for his hand immediately, gripping it firmly despite her exhaustion.
“Don’t.” she said gently, but firmly. “Don’t start that.”
A faint, emotional laugh slipped out of him as he shook his head slightly.
He looked down at Prince again, overwhelmed in a way he couldn’t hide.
“He’s so small” Michael murmured.
“I know,” Y/N whispered. “That’s why it matters.”
Michael swallowed, then looked at her—really looked at her.
And something in his expression softened completely, unguarded and real.
“Prince Michael” he said quietly, testing it.
Y/N nodded once. “Prince Michael.”
A slow smile formed on his face then, disbelieving, almost shy.
“And in my family,” he added softly, still looking at the baby, “we already have the ‘Prince’ everywhere in the Jackson line.”
He exhaled gently.
“But this feels different.”
“How?” Y/N asked quietly.
Michael looked up at her, and there was no performance in it at all, just him.
“Because you didn’t choose it from my family,” he said softly. “You chose it because of us, our legacy and because for me, I’ll always remember you announcing him as the prince of pop at your last show”
A pause.
Then, almost smiling again, “And I like that he has it twice. From both sides. From my name… and from your heart.”
Y/N’s expression softened completely at that, emotion easing into something like warmth.
“You’re very poetic for a man who arrived in full red leather” she murmured.
A soft laugh escaped him.
“Girl, you’ve just had our son and you still giving me grief. I’ve had a very dramatic day.”
That made her smile, tired but real.
Prince stirred slightly and Michael immediately leaned closer again, instinct pulling him in.
“He’s really here” he whispered again.
Y/N nodded. “So are you.”
Michael didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he leaned in and pressed a slow, careful kiss to her lips, longer this time, like he needed her to feel it fully.
“I love you, thank you for our son” he whispered.
“I know” she replied softly. “You showed up in red leather, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
A faint laugh broke through him again, but it faded into something quieter as he looked back at their son.
Prince let out a small sound, and Michael gently rested his hand over the blanket again, protective without even thinking.
“Prince Michael” he said again, softer now, almost like a prayer.
Y/N watched him for a moment, then smiled through her exhaustion.
“He’s going to know exactly who you are.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“And he’ll know exactly who you are too” he said.
Then, after a pause, still looking at the tiny life between them “And he’ll never have to wonder where he comes from or how wanted he is.”
The room stayed quiet after that.
But it didn’t feel empty.
It felt full.
Like everything they were, everything they’d been, had finally found a place to rest.
~~~~~~~~<<<
The hospital room had shifted again as night settled in.
The bright clinical edges of the day softened under dimmed lamps, everything quieter now, the machines, the footsteps in the corridor, even the distant city outside Cedar Sinai as if it had agreed, temporarily, to keep its distance.
Y/N had drifted in and out of sleep, exhausted in that deep, bone-heavy way only labour leaves behind. Prince was now swaddled and resting in Michael’s arms, still impossibly small, still making those faint, instinctive sounds that made Michael keep looking at his face like he needed to confirm the miracle hadn’t vanished.
And Michael… had not moved far.
He sat in the chair beside Y/N’s bed at first, then on the edge of it, then eventually, carefully on the mattress beside her when she tugged his hand weakly without even opening her eyes.
“Stay, applehead” she had murmured.
So he did.
Now he was there properly, one arm resting protectively over her hip, while the other held their son.
He wasn’t sleeping.
Not even close.
Every few minutes, he would lean forward slightly, just to check Prince was still breathing the way he should. Then he would look back at Y/N, as if she might disappear if he stopped paying attention for too long.
Y/N finally cracked one eye open.
“You’re doing it again” she whispered.
Michael blinked. “Doing what?”
“Watching us like we’re going to float away.”
A faint, guilty smile touched his face.
“I just—” he paused, softer now, “I don’t think my brain has caught up yet.”
Y/N shifted slightly, wincing a little before settling again. “Mine hasn’t either and I birthed him.”
That earned a quiet laugh from him small, tired, affectionate.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“You did so well, my strong beautiful girl” he said, more serious now.
Her expression softened at that, but she didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she let her eyes drift toward the bassinet.
“He looks like you,” she murmured.
Michael shook his head immediately. “No. He looks like you.”
Y/N gave him a look.
“Both of us then.”
“Fine,” he countered gently.
That made her smile despite herself.
~~~~~~~
A quiet settled again, but it wasn’t empty it was full of everything that had just changed shape in their lives, something they had spend nearly decades waiting for.
After a moment, Y/N spoke again, softer.
“Are you going to sit there all night?”
Michael glanced at her, then back at Prince.
“Yes.”
“Michael.”
“Yes?”
“You’re not security.”
“I feel like I am now.”
That made her laugh quietly, then wince slightly again, which immediately made him lean closer.
“Careful baby”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Just sore, not dying.”
He studied her for a second.
“You just had a baby” he said.
“Yes” she replied. “And I can still move.”
A pause.
Then Michael softened again, his thumb brushing her hand.
“I don’t want to miss anything” he admitted quietly.
That one landed differently.
Y/N’s expression changed, gentler now, understanding him underneath the worry.
“You won’t” she said softly.
He looked at her.
“How do you know?”
Because she didn’t hesitate.
“Because I’m not going anywhere” she said simply. “And neither is he.”
That seemed to settle something in him, even if only a little.
But then his gaze drifted again to their son’s face.
“He’s so small” Michael whispered, almost like it was still the only sentence that made sense.
Y/N followed his gaze.
“I know” she said.
“And we’ll take him home soon” he added.
“Yes.”
“And he’ll hear music” Michael continued, voice softer now, more distant in thought, “and see trees and light, animals and have a childhood… and he’ll know it’s normal.”
Y/N smiled faintly. “Normal for us, maybe.”
A small laugh escaped him.
Then his expression softened again, more emotional than before.
“Neverland” he said quietly.
Y/N looked at him. “What about it?”
Michael hesitated, then glanced between her and the baby.
“I want him to grow up there” he admitted.
There was no hesitation in Y/N’s response.
“I know, that’s our home. I know we talked about somewhere else, but I know we are staying” she said simply.
That surprised him slightly.
“You do?”
She nodded.
“You’ve always talked about it like it’s… a feeling more than a place,” she said. “Like it’s something you build for people you love.”
Michael swallowed, looking down at their son again.
“I want it to be safe” he said.
“It will be” Y/N replied.
A pause.
Then, softer “Because you’ll make it safe.”
That made him quiet again.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forehead briefly against her hand just for a second, like he needed grounding.
When he pulled back, his eyes were a little brighter than before.
“I keep thinking about his name and how long we’ve waited for him” he said.
Y/N smiled faintly. “Our little Prince.”
He nodded.
“Our little Prince” he repeated, like it was still settling into him properly.
Then, quieter, “I hope he knows how wanted he was and is.”
Y/N looked at him for a long moment before answering.
“He will” she said gently. “Because you’ll tell him and we’ll show him.”
A silence followed warm, steady, no longer rushed by anything.
Prince made a small sound, shifting slightly in his sleep.
Michael immediately looked down again.
Of course he did.
Y/N watched him, then whispered:
“You’re not sleeping tonight, are you.”
He shook his head without looking away.
“No.”
A pause.
Then, softer “I think I’m just going to watch him for a while.”
Y/N’s voice turned fond.
“You’re going to do that forever.”
Michael finally looked back at her, and there was something quietly certain in his expression now.
“I hope so” he said.
And in the dim hospital light, with their son breathing softly between them, it didn’t feel like a beginning anymore.
It felt like forever.
~~~~~~~~~
Authors note: congrats to the worlds best parents.
Summery: you surprise michael with breakfast and he teaches you how to dance a bit.
The kitchen apartment smells of pancakes, the light sizzle of the pan as You flip the pancake in the other side watching the dough cook. Michael hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday since he doing the HIStory touring.
“Aw, baby” Michael’s soft voice carries from the archway connecting from the living room to the kitchen. Your face lit up as you spin around to see him, already dressed, in a red shirt tucked with a black pants and a belt tight around his lower waist.
“Good morning!” You put the now freshly baked pancake with the rest and then you walk speedily towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “You’ve been busy so I figured…”
“Baby thank you” His hands rest round your waist. “It’s nothing really” he leaned down you steal a kiss, pulling you close.
You both broke away smiling, “You’ve better eat them” you give him a pointed look still with a smile. He gave you one in return and your mood lifted anymore happier.
“I will” His hands leave your waist then he moves around the kitchen to grab plates. He puts two pancakes in each of the white with a blue floral design. Michael sits the plates in the bar. Watching him you couldn’t help but smile. A big bright one.
“Here ya go Baby” he says. Once you and Michael finished your breakfast, he washer the plates sayin “baby you can rest for a bit you made me breakfast” when ended your protest.
the radio started playing baby be mine. You immediately turned it up and started dancing which made Michael laugh. You had a certain way of dancing. Michael would tease you about it. Swinging your arms you almost looked like you were drownin.
“Baby….” He laughed as you got into the beats of song swinging yourself into it more Michael put the plates away and leaned against the counter watching you with his crooked smile.
“What?” You ask him laughing. He shrugs laughing, “c’mon” you nudge him. When Michael gets into it he GETS into it.
“Like this baby” he does a few dances, hands running down his body then he does a spin.
“Michael” you giggle as he gets more into it. His hips thrust as he grabs on to his belt.
“Michael!” You fold in laughter, you love when he dances it just makes you laugh especially the spicer ones. Getting more into the dances he grabs his crotch.
“Dont do dirty dancing my butt” you cross your arms laughing.
He shys a bit but smiles. “C’mon” he twirls you a bit. “See get into it” your hips sway to the beat. “Thats it” You smile at his words your face flushed.
He runs his hands up to just under your breasts to your hips, a silver goes down your spine as your body feels like it’s on fire, “Michael Joseph Jackson!” You laugh, his hands still remain on your hips moving with it.
“You’re really pretty dancing” he says bringing you close. “I thought you said I look like I was drowning?” You bit your lip to keep yourself from gigglin.
I just got an idea for a Michael x fem!reader so yall now of it the making of the BOTDF MV Debbie went into labor and Michael rushed to the hospital still in the outfit what if the was a fic?? Where the reader goes into labor and Michael rushes to get there and he’s in the outfit and it’s just fluff and comforting words Michael gives you, like idk but Has someone done that??? If so let me knowwwwww and if you want the idea to use jst tag me so I can read itttt tyyy (and give me credits or not idc ig)
I better see all of y’all still active in this fandom, in the two year interlude between Michael and pt 2
I do NOT want to go back to MJJcommunity forums to sleuth and find active fans or rely solely on wattpad or the dry ass tag on ao3 that was a waking nightmare
why can’t people leave Michael alone? It’s been almost seventeen years since we lost our Applehead. Netflix released the false documentary. Fans are switching up. Michael is now being brought back up in court (by Wade and James I think) and now I’m desperately hoping that some light will shine and the world will see how just innocent Michael is. My parents, my friends (except one irl and all of my SOL on here) and my family believe he’s a monster when all he wanted to do was heal the world. It’s sad really. I constantly grief over him, I never knew the man. Never met him. But in my heart he was my friend even though he had no clue I existed. One day I hope that the injustice of Michael Jackson will be served on those who have caused him pain. He just wanted to heal the world and the world failed him. Oh Michael you might be passed but in the lives on your soldiers of love your alive.
SYNOPSIS: a big argument between you and michael broke out mere days after he asked you to marry him. you didn’t think it was that serious, which is why you didn’t break off the engagement but michael being the petty man he is, refused to speak or see you for weeks. which leads to you attending the mtv 1995 awards, just to see him.
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI — fem!reader, secret relationship, angst angst angstttttt, hurt/comfort, makeup sex, public sex, petty!michael, toxic ish!michael, reader lowkey folds but who wouldn’t?, janet being the queen that she is, happy ending, no use of y/n
WC: 6.6k (guys i think i cooked a bit too much)
AN: this is based off of when michael ghosted lisa marie for six weeks and the only way she could see him was when he was performing. but also keep in mind that this is a work of fiction and the events in this fic shouldn’t be taken as an accurate piece of media! for reference to the title, i was listening to “oscar winning tears” and that’s how i got inspired for this fic lol.
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
neverland ranch, july 27th 1995
“michael you can’t be serious.” you say, watching the way your now fiancée is pacing right in front of you.
he stops his pacing, looking at you like you just told him to go fuck himself.
“i am serious, baby.” he starts, “what part of me askin’ for us to make our relationship public to the media and you moving in with me is a joke?”
you sigh. “mikey, i love you. and i want to marry you, i do. but im just not ready for my face to be revealed on every single newspaper or magazine yet. or for i don’t know,” you throw your hands in the air, “your crazy fans harassing me all because im getting married to their celebrity sweetheart.”
he pinches the bridge of his nose, like this whole talk you’re having with him is raising his blood pressure. “okay let me ask you this one thing.” he says.
you nod.
“you knew what you were getting into when we first started dating, right?”
“well yeah, but—”
“let me finish.” he snaps, holding up a singular finger.
you let out a scoff in disbelief, at the snappiness of his tone.
he’s never spoke to you like that before.
“when we started dating, i told you what it would be like dating someone like me. i even refused many many times because i never wanted you to have to deal with the media or the tabloids. but it was you that was persistent. it was you that wanted me so bad to the point you never cared about what anyone else thought. it was me who decided to keep the relationship secret because i didn’t want you to get hurt. i didn’t want you to have to deal with all of that pressure. and now because i’d rather let the world know who my wife is on my terms instead of the media leaking it, it’s a problem?”
“no, no of course it’s not baby, but—”
“but what?”
you close your mouth at his words, not even attempting to speak. michael is normally a calm and collected person who seems to have a lot of patience. but now at this moment, he’s giving you no grace at all.
“okay listen.” you start, speaking slowly. you’re trying not to say the wrong thing because one thing you’ll hate to do is make this situation even bigger than it needs to be. “i love you. i want to marry you. i hope to someday start a family with you, but when i said all those things about the media finding out about us, yes i still don’t care what they think because my love for you outweighs all of that worry. but it doesn’t erase the fact that im scared. im scared of what people will think because it’s not like im just a girl that you’re sleeping with, or your date to an award show. i’m going to become your wife soon and that’s, michael that’s a crazy jump. and damn me for wanting to enjoy the buildup of us getting married without the unnecessary stress of people finding out about us.”
you take in a lungful of air, after spilling out everything you’ve been bottling up since michael has made it known that he wanted to make you guys’ relationship public.
“mikey, please say something.” you whisper, when you see him take a seat at the other side of the couch. he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at the ground.
“there’s nothing to say.” he shrugs. “you’re not ready so im going to have to accept that.”
“what does that mean?” you ask.
“it means, come back to me when you’ve made up your mind.” he gets up from the couch, walking to the phone on the other side of the room.
“what do you mean, ‘come back to me’ like i work for you or something?” you snap, your tempter starting to rise.
you’ve been so calm throughout this whole conversation but now you just feel angry.
it’s like he can’t understand that you need time. you need time so you can mentally prepare yourself for your life to be completely turned around.
he stays silent, jamming his finger into the numbers before he lifts up the phone and puts it to his ear.
“michael are you even listening to me?” you stand up walking towards him so you two are face to face.
well not exactly face to face since he’s a couple inches taller than you.
he looks down at you and the look on his face makes you take in a deep breath without realising it.
it’s not the normal, loving look he gives you all the time. i mean of course, you can tell that he still loves you a lot because otherwise he would’ve never been so angry. but the look that is pointed right now at you is somehow distant. like he’s looking straight through you, and closing himself in a tiny box.
he’s secluding himself from you already and you both are still together in the same room, inches away from each other.
the person on the other side of the phone seems to pick up because he looks away from you and focuses on something above your head. “hi, yes i need you to send a car up, immediately.”
you gasp, grabbing his arm. he’s sending that car to come and get you.
“michael don’t do this.” you plead. tightening your hold on his wrist but he doesn’t even move an inch. he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore.
he’s shut you out.
“baby we can talk about this. we’re engaged remember. all im asking for is some time to think but this is too much. don’t hide from me.” you beg, your lip starting to quiver at the thought of him dismissing you so quickly without giving you a chance.
“okay, thank you.” he says, hanging up the phone and placing it back where it was. “the car should be here in a second to take you home.” he mutters, shrugging off your hold on his wrist and walking past you towards the spacious kitchen.
you follow him, tears springing to your eyes. you ignore the chef who’s at the stove cooking, and go to michael who’s opening the fridge, and taking out a carton of orange juice.
“michael.” you whimper, your chest starting to feel tight.
he ignores you, opening the cabinet and taking out a fresh glass.
“michael why are you doing this?” you say. “what happened to talking about things? why can’t you have a civil conversation without shutting people out whenever they don’t agree with you?” at this point tears are already starting to fall freely down your face, messing up your makeup.
you’re hurt. you’re hurt that he’s angry at you all because you want to protect yourself.
he should be able to understand. he should be able to see how terrified you are about the world finding out about you.
“michael!” you shout, openly sobbing in the kitchen and not giving a fuck about the chef staring at you like you’re insane.
you hate it when he does this. he does this every time he’s upset or angry. he just stops talking, stops acknowledging your presence. it’s like in his world, you don’t exist.
and you hate that he’s doing this to you. the woman that he went down on one knee to propose to a couple days ago. the woman that he says everyday is the love of his life. the woman that he wants to have kids with.
at that thought, you put your hands over your face, sobbing into your palms.
“the car should be here now.” you hear him say over your sobs.
you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “okay.” you whimper. you turn to leave, because no matter how much you plead, or beg for him to just listen to you, you know that he won’t. once he’s made up his mind, no one is changing it.
“i love you mikey. ill never stop loving you okay.” you stand there in the kitchen, waiting. waiting to see if there’s a change in his expression or even if he’s going to tell you that it’s all a big fat joke and you can still stay the night like you were meant to.
but no.
he says nothing, in fact he even turns his back on you so the only thing you can see is the back of his head.
with one final glance his way, you walk out of neverland ranch, hoping and praying that you’ll get to come back.
17th august, 1995
it’s been three weeks.
three weeks of voicemails, and you trying everything in your power to get michael to pick up the damn phone.
you never thought he’ll take it this far.
and to make matters worse, the times you’ve tried to visit the ranch, he hasn’t been there.
it’s like he’s actively, avoiding you.
the only times you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of him is from the screen of your television or from the tabloids.
and from the looks of it, he’s living his best life out there.
from the moments you’ve seen, he doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t look miserable. he looks… happy to mingle with his fans. and definitely happy to not be in your presence.
you feel sick. you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself for trying to grasp just a pinch of his attention just for him to prance around and act like you don’t exist.
this is the longest you guys have ever spent apart since you both started dating a year and a half ago.
it’s either you would spend a couple nights at the ranch with him or he’ll come and stay at your apartment.
even when he would go on his tours, you’ll always be there in the audience, making your appearance known.
hell, even his family know who you are, and they seem to love you.
you remember when you first started dating michael and you both tried to keep it under wraps but his family found out in mere weeks.
you’ve even been at their home in havenhurst a couple times.
just the thought, that you’ll probably never go back there and see sweet katherine again, has your stomach forming a knot.
but unfortunately you can’t let yourself go on like this. at the end of the day you are a woman before anything else and you can’t be sitting here being stringed along by a man.
even if that man is michael jackson.
31st august, 1995
it’s been two more weeks and at this point you don’t give a single fuck.
a couple weeks ago, you were still calling his landline, crying when the machine told you to leave a message all because you missed him, and all you wanted was for him to hold you in his arms and tell you it’ll be okay.
but now… fuck him.
honestly, fuck michael jackson.
at first you were calling him so he could just hear you out, and so you guys could fix whatever problems you both seemed to have but now the calls starting turning more serious.
you’re calling him so he can come and take the ring back.
it’s been five weeks of him ignoring your calls, or him refusing to be home when you try and visit him and all you’ve been doing inbetween, apart from crying your eyes out, is looking down at your left hand and seeing the big, 10 carat ring that is sitting comfortably on your finger.
if ghosting his fiancée is the new thing for breaking off an engagement then so be it.
because you’re not going to be here looking so goddamn stupid, when he’s there enjoying his life without you.
and to think all of this was because you wanted to wait just a couple more months before exposing your relationship to the world.
and that’s why you decided to do what you’re about to do.
you never wanted to get his sister involved. or anyone else involved, but at this point you’re desperate.
you’ve even tried to reach out to bill, quincy and even some of the staff at neverland and they’ve all told you the same thing.
“michael is busy.”
busy.
busy doing what? torturing your whole being with his silence?
and now you’ve sought out his baby sister because if it’s anyone that can get michael to talk to you so he can take back the ring, it’ll be her.
“hello.” janet’s voice immediately flows through the phone.
you bite your lip, tears starting to form because for the past five weeks, all you’ve wanted was to hear the warmth of michael’s voice and janet, she just sounds so similar to him.
janet says your name, causing you to clear out your throat so she doesn’t know that you’re fighting back tears right now.
“sorry.” you sniff. “um i just wanted to ask if you know where i can find michael because he’s been ignoring me… for so long and i-i need to give him back the ring.”
silence.
just pure silence on the other side of the phone.
you didn’t hear the click to indicate that she hung up on you so she should still be on the phone. why isn’t she saying anything?
“janet?” you ask.
“im sorry.” she clears her throat. “what do you mean you need to give him back the ring? what on earth has happened?”
you start to tell janet about everything, from the beginning where you and michael started arguing at the ranch five weeks ago, till when he practically told you to leave his home and has been ignoring your calls and visits ever since. at this point you couldn’t even hide the fact that you were crying.
“…i didnt even realise he was going to go this far janet. all i-i wanted was for us to talk about it and come to some sort of conclusion, as couples should do.” you sob.
“oh honey, im so sorry. if he wasn’t in new york right now ill go and kick his fuckin’ ass.”
you laugh at her words, despite the fact your nose is all snotty and your mascara is damaged from your endless tears.
you’ve never cried so much in your life ever. these five weeks have made you feel like all you do is cry.
but then you realise what she actually just said. “wait he’s in new york?” you ask.
“yeah, he flew over there early for a couple of press conferences, and signings before the mtv awards. him and i both got nominations for our music video ‘scream’.”
“oh my god, congratulations!” you say.
you’re only congratulating janet, it’s just unfortunate that michael is nominated as well. it’s such a horrible thought since you can’t help but love him so very much. but you’re hurting. just the thought of him makes your heart clench in your chest.
“well i hope you win,” you smile, emphasising on her winning. “but whenever you see michael just tell him from me that he needs to come and get his ring back.” your smile drops, at that thought.
because giving him the ring back is the last thing you want to do.
but you’ve been waiting for weeks just to hear a simple ‘hi’ from him and you’ve got nothing.
and you have to have some sort of respect for yourself.
“why don’t you come to the award show?” janet says, causing your mouth to drop.
“oh no—”
“yes! you have to come. you can fly with me and i can easily get you a seat in the front row. you know what yes, you’re coming. let me add you onto my list right now.”
“janet—”
she cuts you off, saying your name in such a tone that has you clamping your lips shut.
“you’re coming. pack a couple of clothes, we will be flying out in a couple of days. ill send you a car to pick you up and take you to the private airport.”
“janet, you really don’t have to.” she scoffs on the other side of the phone.
“no but i want to. and also i want you to be there when i give my brother a piece of my mind. because one thing you’re not going to is disrespect a woman, not just any woman, his fiancée.”
you go to argue with her again but you stop yourself. you’re so tired, so fucking tired of battling this all by yourself that it feels so relieving having someone take your side. even if that person is his sister.
“thank you. janet, thank you so much.”
“you don’t have to thank me. we’re going to be sisters soon, see you in a couple days.” as soon as she uttered those words, she hangs up the phone.
you didn’t even have enough time to tell her that you’re still giving michael back his ring and there would be no wedding for you both to be sister in laws.
NYC, september 7th 1995
you feel like you’re about to be sick.
this is the first time you will be seeing michael in six goddamn weeks and you feel like you’re going to throw up in your seat.
and to make matters worse, you’re sitting next to some a lister celebrity that keeps on giving you looks and wondering how the hell you even got a ticket, and especially one for the first row.
you swallow, your eyes shifting to the empty seat beside you that michael will be sitting in after he finishes performing.
just the thought of you watching him on stage, knowing that you’re about to hand him back the ring afterwards is another reason why you just may throw up.
the night has already been going on for quite some time, and you’ve been shifting nervously wearing a beautiful black dress, with a slit in the thigh.
it just so happens that it was michael who bought you that dress, the night he proposed to you.
after the first half of awards were presented, the curtain starts to lower and the whole place goes pitch black. the audience starts to scream when the curtain starts to rise and michael. your michael, steps onto stage.
you gasp, because he just looks so beautiful and majestic, which he has no right to be because you’re so very mad at him.
and it’s so hard being mad, when the first thought that entered your mind after not seeing him for six weeks was that you can’t wait to fuck him. even though you know that you’re never going to feel him inside you again.
damn him for making you feel this way.
you look down at your left hand and play with your ring nervously, watching the way the mixtapes of his music hit and how he immediately came alive on stage.
you sit there, staring in admiration at the way he floats around the stage like he owns it.
after about five minutes of his performance, he stops and everyone claps, congratulating him.
i mean you may want to strangle him or fuck him or both. but you can’t deny that he did amazing on that stage tonight.
“thank you.” he says in the mic.
“thank you so much.”
“i love you.” he points to a screaming fan in the audience.
you clench your eyes shut when he says that, wishing that you could hear him say that to you just one more time.
“some of us… likes to play it safe. and take each day as it comes.” he starts. “some of us like to take that crazy walk on the wild side.” you hear a couple of people scream when he says that.
“so… for those of us who like living dangerously. this one’s for you.” and with that he runs to the back of the stage, as dancers start filtering on, distracting us from him switching outfits.
you shake your head, letting out a small laugh at the fact that you thought he was done performing. your laugh immediately stops when his dancers reveal him wearing a suit and tie, with a black hat on.
he starts performing this part of the performance and it’s honestly like he’s trying to seduce you from the stage.
you cross your legs over each other, squeezing your thighs to try and get some sort of friction because there’s no way he’s there humping the air, grabbing his crotch and running his hands down his chest with orgasm worthy expressions on his face, without you getting turned on.
you let out a breath when the music stops and he grabs a mic saying his thanks to the crowd. you don’t think you would’ve been able to take any more of his dirty dancing without at least losing your mind.
this whole time, he still hasn’t noticed you and you’re glad. you’ll probably burst into tears if he locks eyes with you and acknowledges your presence.
“thank you. and for those of you, who made this record number one, i dedicate this to you.”
when the music hits, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt, that’s when you knew it was a huge mistake coming to this award show.
you should’ve stood your ground and told janet no.
because this is your favourite song from michael and he loves to sing it to you all the time, so just hearing him singing this song on stage infront of thousands of people makes your heart lurch in your chest.
as the song goes on, there’s already tears swarming your vision. he walks to the edge of the stage, taking in the audience as he’s singing, and that’s when his eyes fall on you.
“though we’re far apart…” you let a few tears drop when you see him point straight at you when he sings the words with a raise of his brow and a small smirk.
you scoff, wiping your tears with the pad of your finger. how dare he find this amusing after he’s just literally broken your heart, and made you experience twenty different emotions in the span of his fifteen minute performance.
after that song finishes, everyone including you stand up to give him a round of applause.
he smiles on the stage, giving everyone a bow. his eyes lock with yours again, but this time instead of holding the eye contact, you look down at the ground.
you hate that he has you feeling this way. at this point you just may hate him.
the awards continue on as normal and you start to feel more comfortable, watching all these artists get their awards.
you were a bit too comfortable that you forgot about the empty seat beside you until you smelt that familiar cologne.
you look up, your eyes widening when you take in michael wearing a black leather biker jacket with his collars popped out, and a matching pair of black trousers. oh and let’s not forget the signature sunglasses that he always wears.
he sits down silently in the chair beside you, getting comfortable with his legs spread so wide, you’re surprised they didn’t bump into yours.
you clear your throat awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest and focusing on the two celebrities who are making their way onto the stage.
they start to read out the award and the nominees and you hear ‘scream’ get mentioned. everyone starts to clap including you, and that’s when you see the camera pan to michael who you didn’t notice was staring right at you. he saves himself by pointing to the camera with a shit eating grin.
the camera was already able to catch your face but you still decide to look in the other direction.
“and the winner is,” the announcer calls, “michael jackson and janet jackson.” you start clapping hard when you hear janet’s name get mentioned.
yes you’re that petty.
michael gets up and starts walking to the stage, but stops and waits for janet who was sitting in the front row on the other side.
both of them walk onto the stage together and embrace in a hug. you see janet whisper something into michael’s ear which causes him to give her a terrified look.
they both take turns, saying their thanks to friends, family, producers etc, before they walk off stage holding their awards.
you can’t help but notice that michael is more rigid when he sits back down, instead of his laid back version that you saw before he got up to collect his award.
you still refuse to look at him, keeping your body pushed to the other side of your seat.
at this point, you have no interest in speaking to him at all tonight. at first you wanted to at least do the dramatic ring toss to the chest and then walk out on him but you feel like the only thing you’ll be able to do is cry and beg him to fuck you from the back.
maybe it’s possible to mail him the ring. yeah that sounds like a good idea.
you sigh, when there’s another commercial break and you decide to get up to go to the bathroom. this award show has been going on for hours.
you’re tired, heartbroken, horny and all you want to do is go home.
once you’ve finished in the bathroom, you fix your dress and start to make your walk back to the main room so you can sit back in your seat before the break is done, but you get interrupted by a hand on your arm.
you look up seeing michael, with his eyes still covered by his sunglasses.
“what are you doing?” you blurt out, when he starts to drag you down a long hallway.
“michael let go.” you hiss. trying to pull your arm out of his grip.
he ignores you, the same way he’s been doing for the last six weeks and just keeps on walking.
“michael joseph jackson, let me go before i scream.” you say, still trying to break his grip. but his hand is wrapped around your wrist so tight, that you won’t be surprised if there isn’t already a bruise forming.
you’re still trying to get him to let go of you when michael shoves open a door, that you’re assuming is his dressing room.
“what are you doing?” you yell. “are you— mmphh” your words are swallowed when michael crashes his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door.
at first you start to enjoy the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours, tasting just a hint of orange juice but then you remember how he had you leave neverland over a month ago, and didn’t speak to you since.
you push against his chest, panting.
“what. is. your. problem?” you shout, smacking him in the chest.
“you are actually more insane than i thought.” you scoff. “how dare you ignore me for six fucking weeks straight, and then have the audacity to drag me here just to kiss me? have you lost your damn mind?” you can’t stop shouting. after all these weeks of you bottling up your emotions, you can’t help but get it out.
“and,” you let out a dry laugh, “and it was all because i disagreed with you on one thing. not even disagreed, i just asked if we could wait a little more longer and you embarrassed me. you embarrassed me in front of your staff. you embarrassed me in front of quincy and bill when i asked them about you and you told them that you were too busy. yeah right, too fucking busy to check in on your fiancée!”
you didn’t even realise that the whole time you were shouting in his face, michael has been standing there with his hands behind his back with his head down.
he lifts his head up, removing his dark shades.
“you’re not breaking the engagement.” he says, his voice ten octaves deeper than his normal pitch.
you throw your hands up in frustration. “so after all i said, that’s what you have to say? after six fucking weeks of you not speaking to me, that’s what you decide to say to me?” you laugh, in disbelief. “michael i actually can’t believe you. but yes, yes we are done.” you start to twist your ring off of your finger but michael’s hand quickly reaches out to grab onto your wrist.
he pulls you towards him, so you’re flush against his chest.
you look up at him, your eyes filling with tears.
you blink them away, refusing to cry in front of him again.
“well i don’t want us to be done.” he mumbles, pushing your ring back down onto your finger. “i was mad. i was upset because i just wanted the world to see the amazing woman that i want to spend the rest of my life with. so im sorry for shutting you out, and im sorry that i took it out on you without communicating, but one thing i’m not going to allow you to do is walk away from me.”
you try and snatch yourself out of his grip because that was the most shittiest apology you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“baby.” michael says, pulling you back into his chest. “i said i was sorry.”
“i don’t care. you hurt me. you hurt me in the worst way possible and you think that stupid apology is going to work?” you scoff at his ridiculousness.
“i was angry and i just needed time to think.” he says, his grip loosening which gives you a chance to step back from his hold.
“time?” you say, your eyes narrowing. “one night is considered ‘time’. maybe a couple days, but six weeks michael? i called you every single day and you refused to answer. i cried myself to sleep every night, thinking that you hated me. i even called you on your birthday.” your lip quivers at the thought, and nothing could’ve stopped the tears that now start to fall down your cheek.
you start to openly sob, your heart clenching so tight that you’re convinced death would be a better feeling than what you’re feeling right now.
michael steps forward to embrace you in his arms and you hate yourself for the way you clutch onto his jacket, crying into his chest.
“shhh.” michael whispers into your ear, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your head. “i’m so fucking sorry for leaving it this long.”
“you hurt me so bad.” you cry.
“i know.”
“i hate you.”
“i know.”
“i hate that i still miss you every single day. even when you hurt me.” you hiccup, pulling away from his hold so you’re looking straight into his eyes.
“i missed you too. it’s just, after i got over the fact that maybe you were right to wait a bit before we realised our relationship to the media, i just got told that me and janet got nominated for scream and… and i got so busy with the multiple interviews and the rehearsals for my performance that if i did try and reach out to you it would’ve gave us away.”
you shake your head, your makeup probably a hot mess from your tears. “if you really wanted to fix things with me you would’ve found a way to contact me without the media detecting us.” you sniff.
“i know. and ill make it up to you, i promise baby. it wasn’t meant to happen like this.”
you shrug, stepping back from his embrace again. “i’m still hurt mikey, and just because i love you that doesn’t mean the wounds aren’t still open.”
“i know.” he says softly, stepping forward. “but just give me this one chance to make it up to you. i don’t care if it takes a month, a year or ten years from now. i just don’t want us to be apart for that long again.”
you look up at him, taking in the utter beauty on his face. the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes and his hands clenched tight like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing onto you again.
you bite your lip, hating the fact that you’re about to fold after weeks of telling yourself that you’re going to hand him back the ring and move on with your life but you can’t help the way your heart yearns for michael.
“okay.” you nod.
“okay?” he questions, probably shocked that you didn’t try and argue with him.
“okay.” you shrug. “i forgive you but i sure as hell won’t forget and if you ever,” you take a step forward so you finger is pressed to his chest. “ignore me for that long again then i just may cut off your dick and feed it to you.”
michael’s hand instinctively goes to cover his groin.
“i won’t do that again, i promise.” he says, before letting out a loud sigh. “and also because janet basically threatened me when we were on stage.”
you laugh at his words. “good. you deserved it.”
“i know.” he sighs, dropping his head in defeat.
you grab the collar of his jacket. “now come here.” you say, before you pull his lips to yours.
michael doesn’t waste anytime, pushing you against the door and bunching your dress up around your waist.
“i missed this.” michael says against your lips, lifting your leg up so it’s wrapped around his waist.
“you could’ve had this if you didn’t ghost your fiancée.” he smashes his lips against yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you moan when you feel his hand rub your cunt through your thong.
“im sorry. im so fuckin sorry baby.” he whispers, peppering kisses down your neck as he pushes your thong to the side and slips a finger inside of you.
“shitttt, you’re so fucking tight.” you hold the back of his head, letting out a whine at the thickness of his finger inside of you.
“it’s been so long.” you pant.
“i know. i need to stretch my baby out so ill be able to fit.” he pushes another finger inside of you, curling them so they hit that one sensitive spot.
“ahh— fuck. that feels so good.” you moan, pulling his lips back onto yours. you let out another high pitched moan, when you feel him add a third finger.
he uses his thumb to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.
“im gonna cum.” you grab onto his shoulder, not caring that you’re probably scrunching up the material of his expensive jacket.
“no.” you whine, when he pulls out his fingers and places them into his mouth. he groans at the taste, “fuck baby, you taste so good.”
you pout, undoing his pants just far enough so you can free his cock. “you didn’t let me cum.” you say, when he hitches your leg back around his waist and lines himself up with your entrance.
“baby i need to feel you cum around my cock.” he lets out a deep, guttural groan when he pushes inside of you.
“fuck. ive missed this. ive missed this so much.” he pulls down your dress just far enough so he can suck onto your boob.
you moan, when he starts moving his hips hard against yours.
“you’re so big.” you cry out, wrapping both of your arms around his neck.
“jump.” michael says, letting go of your leg. you jump, wrapping both legs around his waist as both of his hands settle on your ass. he pushes you against the wall, still pounding into you with quick, efficient thrusts.
at this point you’re a blubbering mess as you feel your orgasm build up low in your stomach.
“fuck fuck fuckkkk.” you scream, from the intense pleasure.
“tell me you’re going to cum.” he growls, his hands tightening on your ass so he can manhandle your body to drop you down onto his whole length.
you can’t form words so all you do is nod. you clench, feeling the overwhelming pleasure of your realise.
“shit, im about to cum baby.” michael moans, dropping you down even faster. you hide your face in his neck, as you just let him fuck you like you’re his own personal fuck toy. at this point, you’d love to be.
“godddd— fuckkkk.” you hear michael groan in your ear, pushing you down on his whole length as you feel his cock pulse inside you and the feeling of his seed filling your womb.
you both pant against each other, refusing to break apart.
“that was… the best sex… we’ve ever had.” you pant.
michael places his hand on the door, using it as an anchor to keep him standing.
he sets you down on the ground gently, as you immediately look around his dressing room for some tissues so you can clean yourself up.
you can’t believe you’ve just had sex when there’s literally celebrities right next door.
“i can’t believe we just had sex in public.” you laugh, wiping yourself with tissue and making sure that there’s no bodily fluids on your dress.
“neither can i.” michael scoffs, buttoning up his pants.
just as you two got yourself somewhat presentable, the door bursts open, revealing janet.
“oh my god, there you two are. i was looking for you everywhere.” she says.
you and michael stand there completely frozen. you have never been so grateful in your whole damn life, because if you and michael took any longer, his own sister would’ve walked into you guys having sex.
“are you guys okay? did you sort out everything?” she asks, leaning against the door.
you cover your face in embarrassment. janet has no idea that she is standing in the exact place, her brother just fucked you at.
“we’re fine.” michael says quickly.
“okay.” janet nods. “well just to tell you that the award show is over now and everyone’s starting to go to the after party.” she closes the door but not without giving you a weird glance.
oh she knows.
she definitely fucking knows.
“oh my god.” you say, looking up at michael with wide eyes. “we nearly got caught.”
michael lets out a loud laugh. “it’s okay. we didn’t get caught.”
“yeah but we nearly did.” you sigh, placing a hand on your beating heart.
“anyways,” you start. “i need to go to my hotel room and change so we can head to the after party.” you start to walk out, even though your legs are a bit shaky from the brutal fucking you just endured but you freeze when you realise michael is not behind you.
“what?” you ask.
“you want to go to the after party? together?”
you give him a smile, “yeah.” you nod. “i think it’s time to let all these women know that you’re a taken man.”
michael bites his lip, looking you up and down like he wants to fuck you again.
“i’m never letting you out of my sight again.” he says, grabbing you by the waist, and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“you better not.” you laugh. “because i won’t be so forgiving next time.”
and with that you both leave the dressing room hand in hand, preparing for your future of being in the spotlight as michael jackson’s soon to be wife.
sequel - running up that hill
extra AN: guys im sorry if the smut is shit or if i forgot to tag anyone. this is the longest fic ive ever done and mama is tired.
☙ SYNOPSIS: you’re janet’s best friend so you got invited to stay the whole summer with her at her home in hayvenhurst. you’ve always been attracted to her older brother, pff who wouldn’t? but little do you know he sort of has a crush on you too. so now you have to figure out how you’re going to survive six long weeks while being under the same roof as him.
⌫ WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI — post!thriller michael, age gap (reader is 21 & michael is 26), janet knows about readers crush and teases her about it, michael is such a gentleman, j*e doesn’t exist cause i said so, michael’s brothers being teases, also randy tries to flirt with reader a lot, jealous!michael, oblivious!reader, horny!reader, first kiss, virginity loss, sub!michael if you squint really hard, oral (m!receiving), riding, unprotected p in v, creampie (oops), no use of y/n, happy ending
☙ WORD COUNT: 6.0k words
✿ NOTES: guys i got a bit lazy at the end as i always do lol. but i hope you still enjoy it, this is also one of my personal favs mwah!
michael jackson masterlist ༻ navi
SUMMER 1985
you hum to the soft music playing in your car, feeling the warmth of a summer afternoon through your car window as you start to get closer to the hayvenhurst gates.
you cannot believe that you're staying the whole summer at hayvenhurst.
you've been friends with janet jackson since you both met at school in indiana but you lost contact over the years when your family had to move away. it was only recently that you both reconnected and have been inseparable ever since.
that's why she invited you over to her beautiful family home, to spend the summer and you are more than excited. not only are you going to be having the best summer of your life with your best friend but you'll also get to meet him.
yes, michael jackson.
when you were younger, you never actually got the chance to meet janet's older brothers but it was only when you moved away to a different state and you saw how popular the jackson's became that you realised that your friend had fine ass brothers.
you remember having a crush on all of them, not knowing who to choose, but there was always one that stood out from the rest and that was michael.
it was just a coincidence that he turned out to be a bigger star than the rest of them, with him going solo and having the biggest selling album of all time.
you pull your car to a stop, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head before opening your car door.
just as you go to open up your trunk so you can get out your multiple suitcases, the door of hayvenhurst bursts open.
“you’re here!” janet squeals, running towards you and giving you a massive hug.
you laugh, hugging her back just as tightly.
“im so excited to be here. oh my gosh this place is much bigger in person.” you gawk, looking up at the massive lawn.
“ehhh you get used to it.” janet smiles, before looking at the multiple suitcases and bags that are stuffed into your trunk.
“girl did you pack your whole life in here?” she laughs, helping you take out your stuff.
“janet im here for six damn weeks, i need options.” you giggle.
“fair enough.” she nods, “i hope you have a lot of bikinis in there because we’re about to be by that pool all the time!” she raises a brow.
you give her a look that means ‘girl be so for real.’
she laughs at your facial expression, grabbing a few of your bags and helping you to the door.
“but seriously,” you start. “are you sure your mom is fine with me staying?” you ask.
“pff of course! mommy is more excited for you to stay than i am. she did say there needs to be more women in the house.” janet laughs, dropping one of your suitcases right by the door.
“what about your brothers, will they be fine with me staying?”
“who cares what they think?” janet shrugs. “plus this estate is big enough for us to never see their ugly faces.”
you laugh at her words, going back to your trunk so you can grab a few more bags. it does really feel like you packed your whole world in here. but you’d rather have too much clothes, than too little!
you jump when you hear janet scream at the top of her lungs. “randy! michael! come down here!”
“what?” janet shrugs, when she sees your expression. “we shouldn’t have to carry all of this by ourselves.”
“janet it’s fine.” you smile. “this is all technically my stuff so i should be the one carrying it all.”
“girl please, i have brothers for reasons like this one.” right as she says those words, randy comes round the corner followed by michael.
“did you really have to shout that loud?” randy raises a brow, putting his hands on his hips.
you stop in your tracks when your eyes find michael’s. he looks even more beautiful in person.
“who’s she?” michael’s questions, his voice so smooth and soft spoken that it feels like you’ve been wrapped in a blanket.
“she’s my friend.” janet smiles, “and she’s staying for the summer so be nice.”
“oh ill be nice alright.” randy says, his eyes trailing your body up and down.
you laugh at his words, pulling out another suitcase.
“now go help the girl, that’s what i called y’all down for.” janet says, pushing michael towards you.
randy sighs, coming towards you and helping you with your bags.
“what’s your name?” he asks.
you tell him your name, fixing your sunglasses that are trying to slip off of the top of your head.
“that’s a pretty name.” randy smirks, shaking your hand. but not before squeezing it gently.
“randy stop flirting with my friend, and michael,” you look over to see that michael still hasn’t moved from his position by the door, “stop gawking and go help randy!” janet huffs, bossing around her older brothers.
michael sighs, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, and walking over to your car so he can help with the bags.
the first thing you notice when he steps near you is his cologne.
how can a man smell so damn good.
“hi.” michael nods, holding his hand out for you to shake.
his hand is big, way bigger than yours and you look down at the warmth radiating from his palms.
“hi.” you say, sounding just a bit breathless. “thanks for helping with my stuff, i know it’s a lot but i’m here for the whole summer and i wanted to make sure that i had enough clothes…” you trail off when you see the amused look on janet, randy and even michael’s face.
your face starts to feel strangely warm at the realisation that you just word vomited in front of michael jackson.
randy let’s out a laugh in disbelief. “no way.”
michael stays silent, still gripping your hand, and still staring into your eyes like he’s trying to look into your soul.
“girl.” janet shakes her head, a smile forming on her face, “come and get your butt in this house so i can show you your room.”
“right!” you clear your throat, letting go of michael’s hand who still hasn’t moved, and making your way to the massive doors of hayvenhurst.
“thank you again by the way!” you say over your shoulder to the two men.
“just come on!” janet laughs, leading you into the large foyer.
“i just embarrassed myself didn’t i.” you let out a nervous laugh.
“why did you just spill your guts out there?” janet laughs. “and to michael of all people…”
“i don’t know,” you shrug, “he’s just so nice and…”
janet throws her head back in laughter. “oh my god you totally have a crush on michael.”
“wha— no!” you exclaim, following your friend as she leads you up a large staircase.
“you definitely do. i can’t wait to tell the rest of my brothers and la toya. i mean, i think randy already realised.”
“janet i don’t have a crush on him!” you shout, following her down a long hallway until eventually you both stop at a door.
“mhmm, sure you don’t.” she laughs, “well if you do then this will become a very interesting summer!”
“well i don’t. so there will be nothing interesting to see!” you cross your arms.
“okay!” janet holds her hands up in surrender. “anyways this is your room, my room is just down that hall, to the left and if you must know michael’s room is down that way, all the way at the end of the hall. you can’t miss it.”
“janet!” you gasp, pushing her shoulder playfully.
“okay! okay! ill stop.” she laughs. “but i’m really happy you’re here, you’re gonna enjoy yourself so much!”
“i cannot thank you enough for letting me be here this summer, i know we’re going to have so much fun.” you pull her into a hug.
“that we are!” she says, pulling away. “i mean hot girl summer, remember?”
“exactly that!” you both cackle, doing the handshake that you both learnt when you were both just little girls in school.
“i’m going to leave you here and see how the boys are doing with your overwhelming amount of bags, and you can just meet me downstairs at the pool in, ill say maybe an hour?”
you nod. “definitely! i’m going to take a quick shower because the drive here was long, and ill meet you by the pool, if i can even find where it is.” you laugh.
“okay then how about i meet you here in an hour so i can show you where the pool is because id hate for you to get lost on your first day here!” janet giggles.
“yes, that’ll be amazing.” you open your door, stepping inside. “thank you again, janet.” you say, before closing your door and realising that you may have fucked up by coming here.
because the whole time you were speaking to janet, the only person who was on your mind was michael freaking jackson.
“so…” randy smirks, leaning against your car with his arms crossed.
michael looks up at his younger brother in confusion. “what?”
“so what do you think about pretty girl… janet’s friend.”
michael shrugs, “nothing? i don’t even know her.”
“oh but i bet you wanna know her.” randy laughs.
michael scrunches up his face, “no i don’t. she’s not my friend, why would i want to get to know her? stop being stupid randy.”
“well she obviously likes you.” randy says, raising his eyebrow. “pretty girl never even gave me a second glance when she saw you.”
“she has a name.” michael huffs, crossing his arms.
“ohhhh!” randy cackles, pushing his brothers shoulder. “you don’t like me calling her that do you? getting a bit protective aren’t you mikey?”
“oh shut up.” michael mumbles, feeling his face start to burn up.
“just admit that you like her.” randy states.
“i don’t know her, randy. how can i like someone i don’t know?” michael exclaims, getting frustrated by his little brothers pestering.
“so you’re saying you don’t find her attractive?”
“i— i don’t…”
randy laughs at his brother fumbling over his own words.
“it’s okay to find a girl pretty mikey.” randy snickers, finding this whole situation comical.
michael’s face now feels hot to touch, because he does find you attractive, more than attractive and this is the first time he’s ever met you. so how on earth is he going to handle spending the whole summer with you?
“what are you guys just doing standing there?” michael hears janet call from the open door.
“we’re talkin!” randy yells back.
“well less talking and more carrying these bags upstairs for my girl!” janet stomps back into the house.
“i swear sometimes i wonder who’s worse, her or mother.” randy shakes his head, doing exactly what his baby sister is asking him to do.
michael on the other hand is distracted by you. the way you showed up in tiny tank top, showing a sliver of your smooth stomach, and jeans that hugged your arse so perfectly that he wonders if they were painted on.
he sighs in frustration, annoyed by his own mind.
he shouldn’t be thinking this way about another woman, especially not a woman that’s the same age as his damn sister.
but for some reason he can’t, his mind is engraved with the thought of you.
for the past couple of days, all you and janet have been doing is lazing around by the pool, painting each others nails, shopping, gossiping about ex boyfriends, and just having fun.
you never thought hayvenhurst could be this welcoming, and have such a homey feeling. and you also didn’t expect janet to be correct about the mansion being big enough that you won’t even see her brothers or anyone else for that matter, because you’ve actually hardly seen them.
this is only your second week here so far, and you’ve only caught a tiny glimpse of marlon when he was on his way out to a date, but that’s it.
it’s like they all have their own seperate bubbles in the estate and only come out when they feel like it.
that’s why it was such a shock that when you decided to come into the kitchen late at night to grab a bottle of water, you found michael sitting on a stool at the island, with a notebook and a glass of orange juice.
you nearly run back out of the kitchen and back to your room because not only is the one person who you can’t get out of your mind less than ten feet away but also because you’re alone… with him.
a man who has been in your dreams for as long as you can remember and now he’s just there, right in your reach.
you’re probably going to embarrass yourself again.
he still hasn’t noticed you by the door way, too busy scribbling down notes.
“hi.” you mumble, stepping into the kitchen and making a beeline straight for the fridge.
michael’s head pops up at the sound of your smooth, velvety voice and immediately takes in what you’re wearing. he tries not to let his eyes wander, but it’s hard to stay focused when he can make out your tiny pyjama shorts, that look like they just about cover your arse.
he clears his throat, ridding his mind of those filthy thoughts. “hi.” his mouth forms a tight lipped smile, before he ducks his head back down and tries to concentrate on his notebook filled with unfinished lyrics.
you feel a small pang of hurt in your chest at the feeling of being dismissed. you get it, you’re just a regular girl who happens to be his sisters bestfriend and also staying in his home for the summer, but he doesn’t even care that you’re here, at all.
honestly why would he? he probably has hundreds of women fawning over him and you think that out of all of them, you’ll be the one to catch his attention.
ugh, you hate that you’re so delusional and you hate that you can’t get him out of your fucking head.
“sorry.” you apologise, taking out a bottle of water from the fridge. “m’ just here to get water, i didn’t mean to disturb you.” you give him the same tight lipped smile that he gave you and start to make your way out of the kitchen.
“it’s okay.” his soft voice, stops you immediately. “you didn’t disturb me.”
you turn around immediately at his words, biting your bottom lip.
“are you not tired?” you ask, mentally face palming at the question. you just got an invitation to carry on a conversation with your biggest obsession and the first thing you ask him is that? “im sorry, that’s not what i meant, i mean… its late and you’re not in bed like everyone else.” you shrug.
you should really stop speaking. because it’s like the more you speak, the more embarrassing shit comes out your mouth.
michael let’s put a soft chuckle. “it’s okay. i find it hard to sleep at night sometimes, so instead of sleeping, i write down all the ideas that keep me up.”
you nod in understanding.
“why aren’t you sleeping?” you see him raise an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips and how he easily flipped the question back onto you.
“i- i was sleeping!” you sputter out.
“yet you’re here standing in front of me.” your mouth widens in shock at his bold words.
he normally seems so shy and secluded but you didn’t know that he could be so bold and dare you say, funny?
before you knew it you found yourself on the stool right beside him, talking, laughing and joking around like life long friends.
“you’re so funny!” you laugh, after recovering from a laugh attack that he just gave you. you swear you probably have abs from how hard he’s made you laugh.
he shrugs, a wide smile on his face.
and that’s when you realise that it’s already later than it was before, and you are getting a bit tired.
you yawn for what feels like the twentieth time, and that’s when michael realises you should probably go to bed.
he stands up, stretching out his legs. “c’mon.” he holds out his hand so you can help you off of the stool even though he doesn’t have to. but he is a gentleman after all. “you need to go to bed. you’re practically falling asleep sitting up.”
“i do.” you yawn. “i really enjoyed talking to you tonight mikey.” you give him a tired smile.
“mikey?” he raises a brow.
“yeah. short for michael, do you not like that?” you ask, wondering if you’ve overstepped a line. you may have just spoken to him for an hour straight but you’re still practically a nobody to him.
“i like when you say it.” he says, causing heat to creep up the back of your neck.
was that him just flirting with you?
“okay.” you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “ill call you that more often then.” you smile, grabbing your unopened bottle of water.
“goodnight mikey.” you whisper, leaving him standing at the kitchen island all by himself.
as you walk out of the kitchen, michael takes a deep breath.
he never wanted this. it was okay at first because he thought he could keep himself busy and avoid you. but now that he’s heard your laugh, heard your sassy comebacks, saw the way you looked so relaxed in his presence… he just may have fucked up.
because now he has to have you.
you and michael have sort of made a routine since that one night you both spent talking in the kitchen. it happened once, then again, then again until every single night after that, you found yourself in that kitchen talking to michael about how your day went, what you and janet got up too etc. and he did the same, talking to you about his demo’s that he showed quincy, telling you about how he went to visit a children’s hospital with bill so he could give them toys and read them stories.
you never thought you could become even more obsessed with someone. but michael is genuinely one of a kind. he’s quirky, has a good soul, loves to compliment you. at this point you’ll consider him your friend.
you remember trying to hide it from janet the first night but she saw underneath all of your lies and is aware that you want michael jackson… badly.
she wastes no time with teasing you about him every chance she gets, like now.
“i can practically see you drooling.” janet snickers.
you gasp, hitting her softly on her arm.
“that was so loud, what if he hears!” you exclaim, looking over at the pool where michael and his brothers are relaxing.
“oh please, he’s already staring at you.”
your neck snaps towards michael, who’s laying on a float, with his shirt unbuttoned and swim shorts. you can’t exactly see if he’s looking at you since he’s wearing his shades, and marlon seems to be saying something to him. but with the way his head is pointed in your direction, you can’t exactly rule out the fact that he might be looking at you.
you lean back on your sunbed, scoffing. “why would he even be staring at me?”
“because he likes you, and you unfortunately like him.” she makes a face in disgust, still trying to get over the fact that you have a massive crush on her brother.
you laugh, “it’s not unfortunate, he’s cute. really cute.”
she pretends to gag at your words. “okay i can just about deal with you having a crush on my brother, but i can’t and won’t sit here and listen to you absolutely drool over him.”
“you started it. you should’ve never said anything.” you say, watching the way randy jumps into the pool, splashing everyone even you a bit.
“damn it, randy.” janet yells, wiping her arms off with her towel that was hung at the back of her sunbed.
“that’s what happens when you girls refuse to get in the pool.” randy grins.
“im tanning.” janet holds up her middle finger, before settling back and closing her eyes.
“what about you pretty girl, you wanna come in the pool with us.” you laugh at the nickname randy has given you, because unfortunately from the first day he met you and he called you that, it’s seemed to have stuck.
“sure.” you shrug, taking off your shades and plopping them on your sunbed.
janet lifts her shades up and gives you a cheeky wink.
“stop it.” you laugh, taking off your cover up that’s wrapped around your waist.
you slip into the pool, and right away you’re getting splashed with water from randy.
“randy!” you squeal, splashing water back at him.
you shriek, swimming to the edge of the pool coincidentally next to michael and his float.
“quit it.” michael says to randy, when he sees you trying to get away from him.
“oh you hiding behind mikey now?” randy smirks, when you hide behind michael’s float.
your smile is so big that you’re surprised your cheeks ain’t aching, “i thought i was going to have a peaceful swim in the pool not for you to try and drown me!” you joke.
“that’s why i never go in the pool with them boys!” janet shouts from her sunbed.
“you could’ve warned me!” you shout back, still clutching onto the edge of michael’s float who is laying there unfazed by this whole thing.
“it’s okay pretty, ill get you back next time.” randy gives you a wink before getting absolutely dunked by marlon.
“and that’s what he gets.” michael whispers to himself but you overhear it.
“hey!” you look up at him, brushing some of your wet curls out of your face.
“hey,” he says softly, smiling down at you.
michael tracks the way you bite your lip nervously before opening up your mouth to speak.
“were you watching me over there?” you grin.
“i was.” he says, honestly.
“why?” you question, putting both of your hands on his float, right near his shoulder.
“‘cause you’re pretty.” your heart speeds up at his choice of words.
“you think so?” you ask boldly, you have no idea where this surge of boldness has came from.
“mhm.” he hums, his gaze dropping to your lips. a sudden silence takes over and you realise that your faces are much closer than they were before.
“will yall just kiss already!” marlon shouts, from across the pool.
the tension snaps, you both looking in marlon’s direction.
“that’s what im saying!” janet shouts, making you duck your head in embarrassment.
“you guys are annoying.” michael mutters, settling back onto his float. you were so entranced by him that you never realised that he was leaned over his float just so he could be close to you.
you shriek, when randy catches you off guard yet again with a splash of water.
“you know what!” you shake your head, deciding to splash him back with everything you got.
“wait wait— pretty m’sorry!” he pleads, when you don’t stop.
“that’s what you get!” you laugh, you look back at michael’s float after being distracted by randy for so long, only to see that his float is empty and he’s making his way back inside with a towel on his shoulder.
“where’s he going?” you ask, “it’s still hot outside?”
“he might be jealous...” marlon says, raising a brow towards you and randy.
“huh?” you ask, seeing randy and marlon laughing. “why would michael be jealous?”
“pretty girl, have you not seen the way he looks at you? that man is obsessed!”
you give randy a look in utter confusion. “i- we… we’re friends, i think? i mean i- i find him cute but he hasn’t made any move that suggests he feels the same about me?” you just about sputter out your words, heat creeping up your neck at the thought that michael may feel the same way about you.
he did call you pretty, so maybe that might mean something. but so does randy and there’s nothing romantic about that?
janet says your name with a groan, sitting up on her sunbed. “babe i love you, i really do but you’re acting really stupid right now.”
“what?” you exclaim.
“he likes you!” marlon says, “you really thought this whole time that this was him just being friendly?”
“yeah!” you shrug. “he’s a nice guy!”
“oh my god.” janet throws her hands in the air, dramatically. “girl you better get your butt in that house and search for your man.”
you nearly choke at her words, “he’s not my man!”
“well he wants to be, and i know you want him to be exactly that, so stop acting like you don’t!” janet says, you stay in the pool, staring at her and her brothers in utter bewilderment.
janet says your name, “go!”
you blink away your nerves, swallowing nervously and getting out of the pool with randy’s help.
“make sure he’s not too mad at me aight, i just wanted to give you both a little push,” randy winks at you, sending you into the hayvenhurst mansion in search of michael.
“michael!” you yell, wrapping your towel around your waist.
you check in the kitchen, no sight of him.
you check the living room, nope, not there.
you remember janet saying that his room is on the same floor as yours, just the last door down the hall, so you decide to trust her words and find his room.
you get to his door, knocking on it a few times. “michael! are you in there?” you ask.
“mikey!” you knock again, not hearing an answer.
you go to knock again, but the door opens revealing michael who looks utterly pissed.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this furious before, and you want to know why.
“can i come in?” you question, when he just stands at the door in silence.
he steps to the side, letting you come into his room. you look around, seeing albums and vinyls everywhere.
pictures and post it notes stuck to every wall, his room basically looks like a studio booth, just with a bed in the middle.
you turn around when you realise he’s still silent behind you.
“michael what’s wrong?” you ask him, sitting on the couch that’s opposite his bed.
“nothing.” he shrugs. “you didn’t need to come and look for me.”
“well i do because you’re brothers were saying that you were upset, did i do something?”
michael looks at you, really looks at you and sees the desperation in your eyes.
“you did nothing, there’s nothing wrong.” he repeats himself, sitting on the edge of his bed.
you sigh, standing up and sitting beside him. “mikey…” you whisper, trying to amp yourself up so you can ask him the question. you are hoping that janet, randy and marlon aren’t setting you up because if they are, what you’re about to say will be embarrassing. “were you jealous seeing me with randy?”
michael’s head snaps up, and the look in his eyes tells it all. “yes. i was.” he admits, truthfully.
your mouth opens in shock at his words, because they were right. janet, marlon and randy were right, he does feel the same way about you.
“i— i hated seeing you two laugh with each other, or the way he kept on calling you pretty girl and—” before you can stop yourself you lean up and press a deep kiss on his lips, stopping him from speaking. after the initial shock of the kiss vanishes, michael closes his eyes, his hand coming up to the back of your head so he can deepen the kiss.
you let out a small whimper in the kiss when michael gently pushes you down onto the bed so he’s now on top of you. you grip onto his unbuttoned shirt, pulling his mouth harder against yours, as you let his tongue push past your lips. the kiss is desperate, messy, filled with heat and lust. but at this point you don’t care, this is all you’ve needed from when you first saw him.
he breaks away from the kiss panting, his forehead dropping against yours. you give him a few light pecks, not wanting your lips to leave his.
“you don’t have to be jealous.” you pant, your hand coming up to tangle in his curls. “because all ive wanted is you.” this time michael is the one kissing you, his mouth shifting into a grin, kissing you like he just the thought of you makes him hungry.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body more firmly on top of yours. you gasp in his mouth, when you feel something thick and heavy pressed against your stomach.
michael realises, breaking away from the kiss and looking down to see a massive tent in his swim shorts. you immediately see the embarrassment on his face. “m’sorry,” he sits up and covers his face. “you— you just drive me insane and you’re so pretty and…”
“mikey.” you say, sitting up and pulling his hands from his face.
“it’s okay.” you smile, biting your bottom lip. you put your hand over his bulge, giving it a squeeze.
michael groans, dropping his head back.
“baby…” he moans, just by the light touch of your hand.
“do you want this?” you question.
“yes.” michael says quickly when your hand goes into his shorts, finding his hot and heavy length. “ive never… fuck,” he curses when you wrap your hand around him, your fingers not even touching all the way, “ive never done this before.”
him saying that shocks you because he’s older than you by a couple years, and while you’ve had boyfriends and have fucked a few times… he hasn’t.
you’ll be lying if you say that you being his first doesn’t make you wet.
“that’s okay.” you whisper, climbing off the bed and getting on your knees right in front of him. you pull him out of his shorts fully, gawking at the length and thickness of him.
“baby, you don’t have to—” michael groans, his eyes rolling back when you wrap your warm mouth around his fat tip. you open your mouth wider, trying to get as much of him in your mouth as possible.
you bob your head up and down, humming at the taste of him.
“oh…” he pants, swallowing hard when you look up at him, your eyes filled with lust. “this feels so good.”
you hum, opening your legs a little wider, your clit throbbing just from you sucking him off.
you take him into your mouth deeper, gagging when his tip reaches the back of your throat. you come off his dick with a pop, swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting all the pre cum that’s oozing out.
michael bucks his hips, when you put him back into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and bopping your head faster.
you feel his dick twitch in your throat, knowing that he’s so close, “oh gosh…baby!” michael whines. his mouth falling open in utter bliss.
“wait, wait!” michael pants, gently using your hair to pull you off of him.
you look up at him, spit dribbling down your chin, your eyes glossy with lust.
“come here,” michael says, pulling you up from your position on your knees.
“wha— mphhh!” michael kisses you, groaning when he tastes himself on your tongue and pulls you onto his lap so you’re right above his throbbing length.
“wanna feel you.” he mumbles against your lips. you nod, pulling your bikini bottoms to the side and feeling your wetness coating your fingers. you reach behind you, raising yourself up as high as you can, feeling his tip breach your entrance.
your mouth falls open, feeling the delicious stretch of his tip pushing inside of you.
michael pushes his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.
you push your self down slowly, taking in every single thick inch of his length.
once you’re fully seated you pull michael’s face towards you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss.
you hold his face, staring into his eyes when you raise yourself up right to the tip and then drop yourself back down.
you moan, finding a steady rhythm and loving the feeling of his thickness stretching you open every time you reach the hilt of him.
“you feel so good,” michael gasps, leaning back on his hands and watching the way your pussy swallows him.
“hmm… so big. you’re so big.” you whine, bouncing faster and feeling that warm heat low in your stomach.
michael grips onto your hips, laying his back down on the mattress fully, even though his feet are still pressed on the floor.
you grind your hips, rubbing your clit and feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.
gripping your hips tighter, michael starts thrusting up into you, throwing his head back at the utter tightness and warmth of your cunt.
he swears he’s never felt such pleasure before in his life.
you shatter above him, flopping onto his chest, hearing his almost broken moans, while his thrusts quicken until you feel him push his whole length into you, feeling the warmth of his seed burst into your womb.
“holy shit.” is the first thing you hear, after the ringing in your ears subside.
you look up at him with a dazed smile, seeing how fucked out he looks.
his curls are sticking to his head, his eyes are completely glossed over. dare you say that he looks… reborn.
“i didn’t expect that to happen when i just came up here to check if you were okay.” you giggle, dropping your head back onto his chest.
“me neither.” he chuckles, “but im glad it happened.”
“really?” you say.
“definitely. ive been wanting to do that since i saw you.”
you hide your face in his neck, feeling embarrassed after you’ve already rode the fuck out of him.
“mikey.” you giggle.
he drops his head down, giving you a kiss on your temple. “im serious though, i didn’t like the way randy was all over you.”
you laugh, “he said he was just doing that so he could give us a little push and now you have to thank him because it worked!” you gesture between the two of you.
“nah i ain’t ever thanking that big head.” michael grins, rubbing a hand up your back.
you smile, leaning up to kiss him deeply.
who knew staying at your bestfriend’s home would have you shackling up with her older brother.
“you think they’re both okay up there? should i go and check on her?” janet asks her brother’s, who have long since came out of the pool and are just playing catch with a beach ball.
marlon snickers, shaking his head. “if you know what’s better for you baby sis, you better leave that girl alone until tomorrow morning. she ain’t coming down anytime soon.”
randy laughs, shaking marlon’s hand.
janet’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at what they’re getting at. after a couple moments of thinking it over, she nearly throws up at the thought. “ew gross! don’t be saying that marlon!” she shouts, throwing a towel at his head.
“you did ask!” marlon cackles.
“yeah right!” janet pouts, knowing that as disgusting as it is, marlon is right and now she’s unfortunately going to have to share you with michael.
because knowing you and knowing michael, you both aren’t letting each other go.
synopsis: after losing his virginity, michael is basically hard 24/7.
cw: smut, mentions of oral (m!receiving), mentions of virginity loss, dry humping, p in v, creampie (sorry this is like a baseline for all my fics atp), handjob, wet dreams, praise, dirty talk, whiny!michael (my fav), mutual obsession..? yo gang i stink at tagging stuff
requested !! (ty anon ily)
based off either otw/thriller!michael
michael’s face was buried so deeply in the crook of your neck that his desperate whines were muffled directly against your skin.
he was shoved deep inside you, his chest pressing into yours as he frantically thrusted, his hips jerking with a clumsy urgency that overrode his usual gentleness.
he couldn't stop the high whimpers escaping him every single time his hips slammed flush against yours, his hands clutching at the sheets on either side of your head because he was absolutely losing his mind.
should you say that you didn’t expect this?
no, you definitely did.
ever since the night of the 1980s grammys, your relationship had been rewritten into something insatiable.
you had both come home riding the high of the awards and lost your virginities to one another, and god, did that unlock a monster.
they always say that once you finally cross that line, it changes your body completely.
it was true.
giving your innocence to one another didn't satisfy the craving; it only made the hunger twice as bad.
now that your bodies knew exactly how good it felt to fuse together, the physical need for each other had become an actual addiction.
it was like a switch flipped, and suddenly neither of you could get enough of each other. you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, but michael was so much worse at hiding it.
he would literally whine and beg to take you, his voice cracking with a needy pitch that left him embarrassed afterward – yet he just couldn't help himself.
he got hard the absolute second you crossed his mind.
sometimes that desperation got so overwhelming – so violently thick between you, that there wasn't even time to pull your clothes off. he’d get so needy that he would grab you by the waist, dragging you onto his lap to straddle him.
you’d both start humping against each other like animals in heat, grinding together with a feverish friction that left you both mewling into each other’s necks as you chased the relief.
your underwear would already be drenched, soaked through with your slick arousal. michael would lose his mind at the wetness of it, his hips jerking uncontrollably against yours, fucking into you harder and harder until he’d choke out a broken cry as you both came, soaking right through your clothes.
it was a constant, beautiful torment for him.
frequently, you’d wake up in the dead of night to the heavy press of his weight. he’d be trapped in the grip of a vivid wet dream, his long fingers subconsciously wrapped around your waist to anchor you tightly against his hips.
hearing his frantic breaths and the desperate whines vibrating against your neck, you'd reach up to gently run your fingers through his messy curls, softly whispering his name to pull him out of it.
he’d wake up with a shudder, his movements coming to an abrupt halt. the second he realized he’d been dry-rutting you in his sleep, he’d squeeze his eyes back shut and bury his face deep into your shoulder, his skin burning hot.
"’m sorry," he’d mumble, sounding embarrassed.
“‘s okay, baby” you’d whisper, stroking his hair to settle him as you reached back down between your bodies, your fingers slipping under his waistband.
michael would let out a gasp at the contact, his body locking up tight. he’d be too embarrassed to say anything else, just letting out a small, needy whimper as his hips instinctively jerked forward into your palm, his body quivering as he shot his cum straight into your hand.
and it didn't matter how public or innocent the setting was; his mind was entirely corrupted by you.
just a few weeks ago, during a particularly hot day by the pool, the backyard had been full of his siblings laughing and playing music. you had been sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, completely oblivious, casually eating a blue popsicle to stay cool.
across the pool, michael had been completely hypnotized.
he watched the way your lips wrapped around the popsicle, his chest tightening as his mind drifted to how good it felt when you hollowed your cheeks to suck him just like that, or how incredibly filthy it would look to see his creamy white cum dripping against the bright blue stain on your tongue.
his eyes dragged down, eyeing just how good your body looked in that swimsuit, fiending over the sight of you.
he couldn't stop staring at your soft curves, his gaze locked onto how plump your ass looked pressed against the lounge chair.
he felt so dirty – so guilty for thinking that way about his sweet, precious girlfriend, but the blood rushed straight to his dick so fast it made his head spin. he just couldn’t seem to look away.
it could be something as sweet as you running your fingers through his curls, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest while cuddling under a blanket, or even just the mere scent of your perfume. all of it – every single little thing you did – had him losing his mind.
whenever you caught him like that – feeling the thick length of him pressing against you during a simple hug – you couldn't resist teasing him.
you’d shift just enough to grind subtly against it, whispering a soft, teasing comment about how bad he wanted you, even though the sheer sight of his needy state made your own thighs rub together, completely soaked with the knowledge that the slightest thing you did could turn him like this.
which was kinda how you ended up in this predicament tonight.
you were standing by the edge of the dining room, just listening to the loud chatter of the family gathering, when you felt the unmistakable warmth of michael hovering right behind you.
without speaking a word, he leaned over your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against your jawline before trailing a slow path down the sensitive skin of your neck.
your stomach flipped. you quickly looked around the crowded room, your heart hammering against your ribs as you tried to make sure no one was watching.
"michael..." you whispered, your voice a nervous warning as his mouth sank right into the crook of your shoulder.
he didn't care.
he didn't even look up at the crowd, engulfed by the scent of your skin. his fingers slipped down to lock tightly with yours, his palm burning hot as he gave an insistent tug and started guiding you away from the room. you obviously didn’t object. you wanted him just as bad.
so you swallowed hard, letting him lead you quickly past the noise of the hallway and straight up the steps.
the second you crossed the threshold of his bedroom, the door clicked shut, wasting no second to lock it.
michael didn't even give you a second to breathe before he was pressing you back against the wood.
he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that started out deceptively gentle. it made you melt against him, but it only lasted for a heartbeat.
you let out a soft sigh, and his tongue took advantage of that, pushing past your lips. he completely consumed your mouth, his tongue deep and demanding as it slicked over yours with an uncoordinated hunger.
you could hear the wet, sloppy friction of your lips sliding together, the heat of his saliva slicking your chin as he tilted your head back to get a deeper angle.
he swallowed your quiet gasps as his mouth tasted you, his tongue stroking yours with heat. you mewled into his mouth as your thighs shifted together, trying to relieve the ache between them.
“michael–” you tried to gasp out, your hips jerking forward to grind against his cock.
he interrupted you, muffling the sound of your voice under another kiss, his mouth sliding hungrily over yours. you managed to pull your mouth away from his, your breaths coming in ragged pants.
“michael, wait– they’re gonna notice we’re gone,” you breathed out, your head tilting back against the door to look up at him.
he didn’t care though, his eyes were glued to your mouth. instead of answering, his lips dropped to your neck. he sucked hard, bruising the sensitive skin under your jaw, leaving a mark that will definitely darken later. his tongue lapped at your skin as a moan escaped your lips, which only drove him crazier. your moans alone were pulling guttural groans from his chest.
his hands were all over you.
his long fingers dug bruisingly into your waist, anchoring you tight before his palms slid down, his large hands roughly cupping the plump flesh of your ass through your clothes and lifting you slightly to grind his rock-hard cock right into your dripping center.
a breathless whimper tore from his throat into your mouth, his grip tightening as his hands slid back up your torso, his palms slipping hungrily under your shirt to map out every inch of your bare skin.
he was squeezing your waist, his thumbs tracing the curve of your ribs, utterly fiending for the feel of you as the kiss grew messier.
“oh god, baby, please– need y’so bad,” he gasped out against your lips.
michael's hands slid down your sides to hook firmly under your thighs. he hoisted you right up off the floor, your legs locking around his waist. keeping you anchored against his chest, he stumbled away from the door, his long legs moving quickly across the room towards the bed.
he leaned forward, laying you down flat on your back as he climbed over you, his frame crowding over yours. he was breathing like he’d been running, his fingers shaking as he hooked them into the hem of your shirt.
"take it off, baby. lemme see you," he rasped.
he yanked it up and over your head in one clumsy motion, tossing it onto the floor. you didn't wait either, your hands scrambling to take his shirt off, peeling the fabric off his shoulders.
you planted your open palms firmly against his bare chest and gave him a push, catching him off guard just enough to roll him over onto his back, shifting your weight so you were the one straddling his lap.
your hands flew down to your waist, quickly peeling your bottoms and underwear off your legs and kicking them away entirely.
sitting bare on top of him, you felt his throbbing cock pressing perfectly against your soaking core through his jeans.
“need to be inside you,” he rasped.
you reached down to unbuckle his belt and pop the button of his pants, shoving the denim down his hips just enough to let his length spring free. his cock was obscene – flushed dark, with veins raised under the skin, the tip slick with precum.
you leaned your weight forward, holding yourself up with your hands as you ground yourself over him, a slow slide from the base of his cock all the way to the wet tip.
the friction was dizzying.
the contrast of his searing heat rubbing directly against your sensitive, soaking folds felt so overwhelming, sending a wave of electricity to the pit of your stomach.
michael looked like he was losing it beneath you. his head rolled back into the pillow, his jaw locked tight as his chest heaved for air. he could feel every single ridge of his cock being squeezed and slicked by your wetness.
"baby, please... you're killing me," he choked out, his voice strained with desperation.
his fingers dug bruisingly deep into the flesh of your hips, his knuckles turning white as he completely lost his grip on his self-control. "i can't... i can't take it– need to feel you..."
before you could grind against him a third time, his large hands clamped down hard on your waist, halting your movement. with an upward thrust of his hips, he guided his tip and buried himself all the way inside you in one deep push.
your head snapped back, a loud, high-pitched moan ripping from your throat that michael quickly caught by throwing his hand over your mouth, his own body trembling violently as he filled you completely. he let out a shuddering groan against your neck, his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
"y'have to be quiet, sweetheart" he choked out, his hips twitching inside you as he adjusted to the heat of your core.
the sensation of being buried deep was too much to handle.
a broken whine tore from his throat as his body took over, entirely overriding his brain.
he completely lost control of his hips, his lower body jerking up against yours in frantic, uncoordinated twitches. his cock pulsed within your gummy walls before he could even find a rhythm.
"can't– baby, i can't stop," he panted, his eyes completely blown out.
michael gripped your waist and pushed you backward, forcing you flat onto your back. you let out a squeal as his large hands slid down to hook under your knees, lifting your legs high and draping them over his shoulders.
he let out a high, pathetic mewl at how incredibly tight you felt from this angle, his face flushing a deep red.
he didn't waste another second.
gripping your hips for leverage, he began fucking into you, slamming his pelvis against yours with a frantic urgency.
the bedroom filled with a symphony of filthy noises. loud schlick, schlick, schlick sounds echoed with every thrust, his cock dragging a creamy ring of mixed precum and your own arousal out before plunging right back inside.
the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin was deafening. every single time he slammed flush against you, his pelvis hit perfectly against your clit.
both of you were miserably failing to muffle your noises. the force of his desperate ruts was so intense that the headboard began slamming violently against the wall.
any thought of staying quiet was completely forgotten. despite his own warning, michael was far too gone to care anymore, letting out loud, unbridled whines with every slam of his hips.
"ah... god, you're soakin' through the sheets, baby," he rasped. "milkin' me so hard... it's so wet, makin’ such a mess."
hearing those vulgar words come out of his usually polite mouth made a hot blush rise to your cheeks. a thrill shot through you, causing your walls to instinctively squeeze around him.
"m-mike, michael," you stammered out, your voice cracking, completely breathless as your head thrashed against the pillows. you were so overwhelmed by pleasure that you could barely mutter coherent words. "you feel so fucking good–"
the words dissolved into a high whine as he gave a particularly deep thrust right into your sweet spot.
it felt so heavenly, the pleasure was so intense, that hot tears slipped from the corners of your eyes and dripped down your temples.
his pace sped up even more, his curls damp with sweat as he looked down at you like you were his entire world.
"’m so close, mikey, please," you whined, your hands tightly clawing at his bare shoulders.
michael let out a broken moan at your begging, a breathless sob tearing from his throat. he looked so overwhelmed – almost in pain from how good it felt.
"gonna give it all t'you, baby. every single drop," he choked out.
he didn't slow down for a single second. the headboard battered against the wall as he buried himself to the hilt.
michael went rigid after he gave one final thrust.
a high, broken cry tore from his throat, his head dropping onto your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut.
the first rope of his cum shot out of him with a pulsing force, flooding your womb.
michael let out a trembling sob against your neck, his fingers digging bruisingly deep into your thighs as his cum spurt inside you in heavy ropes, painting your insides, filling every single fold and crevice until you were overflowing with his seed.
the volume of it felt endless, coating your walls and sending a wave of pleasure that triggered your own climax.
"baby, baby, baby," michael whimpered as his hips continued to twitch helplessly against yours.
he was spent, his chest heaving heavily against yours as he melted into you.
even as the spurts slowed, he didn't pull away.
he collapsed into the crook of your neck, his face buried deep as his skin burned hot. he let out small, shuddering breaths as the creamy mixture of his cum and your slick slowly began to leak out from between your thighs, cementing the mess you had made together.
michael shifted slightly, lifting himself up on his elbows just enough to look down. his gaze drifted to where you two were still joined, staring right at the thick white mixture slowly oozing out onto the sheets as he pulled out.
"you're so nasty, michael," you teased, though you couldn't take your eyes off it either.
michael huffs out a breathless laugh, biting his bottom lip as a deep blush rushes to his cheeks.
"you're lookin' too," he mumbled softly.
"but you looked first," you countered with a soft laugh, fingers gently tracing at the nape of his neck as he shook his head at you.
once the silence of the bedroom settled over you both, the house suddenly felt terrifyingly quiet.
michael shifted slightly, his cheek pressing against your shoulder. he blinked for a second, the fog in his brain clearing just enough for the stillness of the house to register.
"christ..." he breathed out. "do y'think they heard that?"
you let out a weak laugh, your hands playing with the ends of his hair. "michael, you literally slammed the bed into the wall for like fifteen minutes straight."
he raised his hands, hiding his face as his skin burned a bright red. "don't say that... oh, god, please don't say that. we're never going back downstairs."
───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───
sorry i always get carried away w/ sub!michael
also i edited this like 8 times n i got sick of rereading so if anything sounds off PLEASE let me know n ill take a look
one night, one dinner, one chance to get whatever had been simmering between the two of you out of your systems. that had been the plan.
the problem was neither of you seemed particularly interested in sticking to it.
three days later, michael was standing on your doorstep holding a couple of dvds and looking entirely too pleased with himself.
you opened the door after hearing a knock.
“you know normal people text first.”
“i did.”
you checked your phone. 'three minutes ago'.
you looked up. “michael.”
he grinned. “you answered the door.”
“because i thought something was wrong.”
“something is wrong.”
your eyes widened. “what?”
he held up one of the dvds. “i bought these and had nobody to watch them with.”
you stared at him, he stared back — then you laughed.
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
it became a pattern after that. you pratically hung out everyday.
not dates, at least not officially. just michael finding reasons to be around.
he’d stop by with food, you’d call him when you were bored, he’d send you pictures of random things throughout the day because, according to him, they reminded him of you.
sometimes it would be something sweet.
somehow, though, every conversation lasted longer than it should have, every goodbye turned into another twenty minutes, every plan to spend an hour together became four.
and neither of you ever seemed eager for it to be over.
· · ─ ·ʚ 𝟧 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 ɞ· ─ · ·
“you know,” michael began.
you were sitting on his couch, legs laying across his lap while some movie played in the background that neither of you had paid attention to in nearly half an hour.
“what?”
“i think janet tricked us.”
you laughed. “into what?”
“this.” he gestured between the two of you. “because there’s no way she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.”
“that’s actually very possible.”
“terrifying.”
“extremely.” michael nodded solemnly. “she’s powerful.”
“she really is.”
for a moment, neither of you said anything. silence that only existed between people who genuinely enjoyed being around each other. it was comfortable,
then michael looked over at you, really looked.
and suddenly you couldn’t remember what you’d been saying. or breathing. or anything, really.
his expression softened. “can i tell you something?”
your stomach flipped. “depends,” he smiled.
“i knew that date was gonna be a problem.”
“why?”
“because i liked you before it.”
your heart stuttered, but michael continued before you could respond.
“and then you showed up looking like that.” you immediately covered your face. “oh my gosh.”
he laughed.
“and then you were funny.”
“stop.”
“and then you were smart.”
“michael.” now, you were blushing heavily.
“and then i had dinner with you and realized i was completely screwed. you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. “you’re ridiculous.”
“i know.”
his voice was quieter now, “but i’m serious.” the teasing faded from his expression.
“i don’t just want the date,
i want this,” his hand brushed yours, squeezing your hand gently. “all of it.”
all you could focus on was him, and the way he was looking at you like he’d already made up his mind. like there had never been anyone else.
“good,” you finally whispered, michael smiling.
“good?” you squeezed his hand back. “because i want all of it too.”
and for the first time all night, michael looked completely speechless. which, in all honesty, might’ve been your favorite part.
it wasn’t planned, at least, not the way he wanted it to be. he’d spent days trying to come up with something perfect. something memorable, something that didn’t sound stupid.
unfortunately for him, the moment kept arriving and he kept chickening out.
so instead, here you were, on a completely ordinary night. you 2 just doing the things you do together all the time.
michael then rubbed the back of his neck, which was never a good sign. seeing him nervous immediately got your attention.
“michael.”
he laughed softly. mostly at himself. “i had this whole plan.”
“uh-oh.”
“yeah.”
“should i be worried?”
“probably.”
you smiled. “now i’m definitely worried.”
for a moment, he just looked at you.
“i like this,” he repeated, looking down. “us.” michael then took a breath,
“i know we’re already basically doing everything people in relationships do.”
you laughed. “that’s true.”
“like, honestly, i don’t even know what would change.”
“also true.” he smiled, but there was still nervousness underneath it. still uncertainty. you knew this mattered to him. a lot.
“but…”
he paused, now lifting his head to look at you again, then shook his head. “see? i had a better way to say this.”
you couldn’t help smiling. “you’re doing fine.”
“am i?”
“yeah.”
“i’m sweating.”
“you’re not.”
“emotionally, i am. you’re just so pretty.” you laughed, blushing some.
“i know i want you around..
i know i want the movie nights, the twister nights and random phone calls,
i know you’re the first person i want to tell everything to.” michael smiled softly.
“so i guess what i’m trying to ask is…”
for the first time all evening, he looked genuinely nervous.
“will you do me the honor of being your boyfriend?”
despite the dates, despite the hand-holding, and despite the way he’d been looking at you for weeks.. hearing him actually say it felt different, making a smile break across your face before you could stop it.
“you know…” you began.
michael groaned immediately. “don’t do that.”
“do what?”
“the dramatic pause.” you laughed.
“i’m thinking.”
“think faster.”
“michael.” you stated, already knowing what your answer was.
“please.”
you shook your head, smiling,
“yes.”
he blinked. “yeah?”
“yes. a million times yes
“really?”
you laughed. “really.”
the smile that appeared on his face was immediate, like he couldn’t quite believe he’d gotten the answer he’d wanted.
“that’s crazy.”
you stared. “what is?”
“you’re my girlfriend.”
you laughed.
“i am.”
he looked ridiculously happy. “wow.”
“you’re being weird.”
“i know.”
“very weird.”
“i don’t care. you’re mines, now." he grabbed your hips, lifting you to his lap as you squealed, placing popcorn kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle.
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