contents: making out, like two curse words, slightly frisky🫣, marlon interaction bc i love him, readers race isn't explicitly stated but it's implied that she's quincy jones’s daughter so do with that what you will
wc: 647
a/n: first time writing for mj so don’t judge if this is straight ass
Los Angeles, California - 1977.
The sun poured its warm golden rays over you and Michael from the rooftop, casting long shadows on the ground. The noise of the city hummed below, with cars honking ever so often as they navigated the bustling streets. The air was filled with the distant sounds of music drifting up from nearby cafes and street performers.
“Mikey- C’mon, we gotta go.” You tried to reason with your boyfriend, but his hands stayed planted firmly on your hips as he peppered kisses across your face.
“Five more minutes, baby.”
“Michael.”
“Hm?” he hummed innocently, placing another peck to your lips, which you couldn't help but return.
“You’re making this so damn difficult.” you groaned, but gave in anyway. You let Michael take your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles while he held your gaze.
“Y’know,” Michael began, his dark brown eyes softening.
“Sometime I’m gonna take you out, on an actual date. somewhere real fancy. no more hidin’ from everybody, yeah?” you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips that he mirrored.
“Is that before or after my father kills you for sneakin’ around with his daughter all this time?” you teased, which the boy only smiled at.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” you laughed, leaning back in to kiss him, which he eagerly returned.
You lost yourself in the moment, the warmth of Michael's hands trailing your waist, his mouth moving against yours with urgency. Michael tilted his head to further deepen the kiss with passion that you gladly mirrored. A soft sound escapes your lips, which only egged him on as his slender hands drifted to the small of your back, pulling you close enough that your hips harshly knocked into his.
Michael pulled away from your lips, moving down to press kisses along your jawline and the curve of your neck. You closed your eyes, inhaling shaky breaths as you rested your hands at the nape of his neck, urging him closer.
“Michael…” you murmured unintentionally, and you could feel him smile against your collarbone while he continued to plant open-mouth kisses that would definitely leave marks later. Michael’s hands slid down to your thighs, —the familiar warmth of his skin on yours was a feeling that you would never take for granted. Gripping your plush skin firmly, he pressed you against the wall, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso.
You almost didn’t notice the sound of the rooftop access door swinging open, and the voices of multiple boys overlapping.
“He’s gotta be up here, man.”
“Yeah, Randy, you’ve only said it about twenty times.”
“Man, shut up!”
“Michael! You up here!?”
You and Michael jumped apart like you’d been burned, red-faced and breathless. You slapped a hand over your mouth, and he made a shushing gesture with his finger. You ducked around the corner of the bulkhead as Michael smoothed his collar quickly, stepping out from the shadows of the concrete structure to meet his brothers.
“What’s goin’ on, guys?”
Despite the situation, you almost laughed at how unnatural the boy sounded.
“Mike! Where you been, man? We’ve been runnin’ around looking for you for ten minutes!”
“C’mon, Mike. Q’s already pissed off ‘cause he can’t find his daughter nowhere either.”
You heard him sheepishly chuckle, muttering a small ‘sorry’, then the sound of Michael's footsteps retreating, along with his brothers’.
To see if the coast was finally clear, you peeked out from behind the bulkhead, only to meet the eyes of the boy you recognized as Michael's older brother, Marlon, who looked straight at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. You could’ve sworn your heart dropped to your ass.
“Marlon, come on, man!” someone shouted, causing his head to whip to the side.
“Coming!” he looked back at you, making a ‘zip’ motion across his lips before darting off.
conformitygate WAS the friends we made along the way do you realize how many people's eyes you opened to how bad the duffers' writing is??? props to you bylers we won
“mike looks just like his dad” have we considered that parallels are a two way street, meaning ted wheeler could very well be a repressed homosexual man
hot take: i can’t handle fix it fics rn because it just reminds me that there needs to be a fix in the first place because the finale was so ass 💔 i need to read (or write) an au that exists as a completely seperate entity from the main show
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