Seven minutes in heaven ⋆˙⟡
𑣲 Sypnosis: You and Michael Jackson have been best friends since childhood, but everyone around you has noticed the insane sexual tension between the two of you. So your friends decided to set up a game of “Seven Minutes in Heaven” hoping the two of you would finally end up locked in the closet together and confess your feelings and your desire for each other.
𑣲 Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem! reader
𑣲 Tags: Michael Jackson, best friends, Off the Wall, smut, seven minutes in heaven, fem reader, +18, best friends to lovers.
𑣲 Era: Off The Wall.
« November 28th, 1979 »
All of your friends, including Michael, had gathered at Michael’s house to have a few drinks and hang out for the night. Ever since the success of Off the Wall, he barely had any free time anymore, but you’d been begging him for days to make time for everyone, and especially for you. Eventually, he managed to squeeze it into his ridiculously busy schedule just because you asked him to.
Everyone was spread across Michael’s expensive couches, while you sat right beside him, your hand resting comfortably on his thigh as you leaned against his side. Being overly affectionate with each other had always been normal for the two of you. You were constantly touching, constantly too close, constantly wrapped around one another without even noticing it.
And honestly? The sexual tension between you was impossible to ignore. Every single person around you could see it. Everyone except the two of you. Well… not entirely.
Deep down, both of you knew there was something there, because friends didn’t act the way you and Michael did. You never left space between yourselves. He’d hold your hand while walking, or you’d cling to his arm without thinking twice. You were always hugging, always pressed together like separating simply wasn’t natural.
Your friends exchanged knowing glances across the room before quietly nodding at each other. It was time to put their plan into motion.
The idea was simple: play spin the bottle, except whoever the bottle landed on had to spend seven minutes locked inside the closet together. And your friends had already prepared for every possible outcome.
If the bottle landed on any of them instead of you and Michael, they planned to pretend they were making out, or doing even more, just to make sure that if it finally landed on the two of you, neither of you would be able to back out of it.
All of you sat down on the floor in a circle, with Michael Jackson right beside you. He glanced over and gently squeezed your knee with a smile while your friends started explaining the rules of the game.
“You already know how this works,” one of Michael’s closest friends announced with a grin. “If the bottle lands on you, you gotta go into the closet together and have fun, but we’re adding somethin’ extra.”
He lifted a shot glass dramatically.
“Every time we spin the bottle, everybody takes two shots. Makes things more interesting.”
The bottle spun across the floor before finally pointing toward one of your friends. Everyone took two shots, though honestly, some people had already had way more than that beforehand.
Then the bottle landed on Michael’s best friend, the same one who had explained the game.
The two of them disappeared into the closet together, already fully committed to the ridiculous plan they’d prepared earlier. Not before everyone took another two shots first, of course.
Only a few moments later, loud moans started echoing through the room, instantly making everyone burst into laughter. Then came soft thuds against the closet door. It sounded way too believable.
Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting that much passion barely three minutes in.
“They must’ve really wanted each other, huh?” Michael joked, turning to you with a laugh. “Sounds like they’re gonna knock the whole closet door down.”
You laughed along with him before glancing around at your friends, who were already much drunker now, nearly crying from laughter at the performance happening behind the door.
Seven minutes passed, and both of them came stumbling out of the closet laughing and clinging onto each other, obviously pretending, but honestly, it looked incredibly believable. Their clothes were slightly messed up, their faces flushed, and they looked a little sweaty.
You stared at them in surprise, not realizing they supposedly wanted each other that badly. At the same time, nervousness settled deep in your stomach, because you knew that if it landed on you, you’d have to do the same thing… otherwise it’d just get awkward.
By now, you, Michael, and the rest of your friends were already getting pretty drunk. The alcohol was hitting fast. Everyone was louder now, more shameless, more touchy.
The bottle started spinning again. And landed on you.
Your stomach flipped nervously as you quickly downed the two shots, earning loud cheers and laughter from your friends.
But there was one person who didn’t seem nearly as amused.
Michael’s smile looked forced, his jaw tight as he stared at the bottle. The idea of hearing you moan for someone else clearly wasn’t sitting well with him. His hand rested on your thigh, and you noticed the way his grip tightened slightly around it.
Then the bottle spun again. And landed on Michael. Your heart immediately started pounding. So did his.
The two of you looked at each other for a second before you quickly glanced away, embarrassed, reaching for the two shots and drinking them almost instantly. Your friends looked way too satisfied with themselves now, clapping even louder than before.
Neither of you knew what to say as you walked toward the closet together. You were nervous.
Because no matter how much tension had always existed between you, neither of you had ever crossed these kinds of lines before.
Still, you both stepped inside and closed the door behind you.
Darkness surrounded you immediately, except for a faint little light that barely allowed you to see each other. You were standing impossibly close.
Your back rested against the wall while Michael stood directly in front of you, his legs brushing against yours. His hands hovered dangerously close to your waist, occasionally grazing it by accident.
Or maybe not by accident. Neither of you spoke. You were both too drunk, too hot, too aware of each other. And somehow, that made everything worse.
You bit your lip nervously, and Michael instinctively looked down at your mouth before one of his hands settled more firmly on your waist. The friction between your bodies felt almost unbearable already.
Your friends had planned everything perfectly. Instead of setting a seven-minute timer, they’d secretly set it for thirteen.
They knew both of you would struggle to make the first move, so they were determined to make sure you actually enjoyed those “seven minutes.”
“Can you even see anything?” you asked awkwardly, your hands brushing lightly over his chest.
“Not really,” he murmured softly. “But I can see you a little.”
His voice sounded nervous too.
Your fingers started playing absentmindedly with the fabric of his shirt. Usually this kind of closeness was normal between you, but now everything felt different. You were drunk, overheated, and years of tension had finally reached a breaking point.
Michael looked down at you with a faint smirk while one of his hands slowly caressed your waist, his fingertips barely brushing your skin and somehow making the atmosphere even hotter.
“How long d’you think we’ve been in here?” you whispered.
“Maybe five minutes?” Michael guessed quietly, trying to listen to what was happening outside the closet. All he could hear was your friends laughing hysterically.
In reality, you’d only been inside for a minute and a half.
“This is their fault,” Michael muttered, finally gripping your lower back more confidently with one hand while the other stayed firmly on your waist. “They did this on purpose.”
“You think?” you replied before you could stop yourself. “Honestly… I think this was gonna happen sooner or later.”
The second the words left your mouth, your eyes widened.
“Shit. Forget I said that, okay?” you rambled nervously, shutting your eyes. “I’m really drunk and we’re way too close and I’m sayin’ things that don’t even make sense…”
“Stop talkin’.” His voice came out low and rough.
And before you could even react, Michael kissed you. Like he’d been holding himself back for years.
His hands slid firmly against your lower back, pulling you tightly against his body while he kissed you with a desperation he could barely contain anymore. You kissed him back just as intensely.
His breath tasted like mint and alcohol, addictive and warm, while his lips moved against yours with experience and confidence. Your fingers tangled into his curls as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss even further.
Soft moans kept slipping from him between kisses, and every sound only made the heat pooling inside you worse. Michael couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop kissing you like he’d lose his mind if he did.
Slowly, his hands drifted lower toward your ass before he paused.
“Can I?” he whispered breathlessly.
The second you gave him permission, he kissed you again with the same intensity while squeezing your ass and lifting your legs around his waist.
You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, throbbing against you, and honestly, you were desperate for more too. More than kisses. More than touching.
Michael slowly started grinding himself against you, biting softly at your lower lip as louder moans escaped him.
Then one of his hands slipped away from your body and rested carefully over your clothed pussy, rubbing you gently through your jeans.
“Can I?” he asked again, quieter this time.
You nodded desperately.
He slowly unbuttoned your jeans, watching your reactions the entire time. He loved how expressive you were, how sensitive you became under his touch.
Then his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties, sliding over your lips and instantly feeling how wet you already were. You’d never felt this good before, and your moans became louder, shakier.
Michael was painfully hard himself, but right now he only cared about making you feel good.
He pulled your panties down slightly and looked at your pussy for a second, biting down on his lower lip while a strained groan escaped him.
“Want me to touch you?” he whispered carefully, waiting for your answer.
“Please, Michael…” you begged quietly, aching for his fingers already.
And that was all the permission he needed.
Slowly, he pushed one finger inside you, moving it gently before adding another, groaning softly at the feeling while his thumb started massaging your clit in slow circles. His other hand slipped beneath your bra, teasing your nipple carefully.
The pleasure was impossible to describe. You found yourself moaning directly against his ear, and every sound you made only seemed to make him harder.
Michael watched every reaction carefully, figuring out exactly what made you feel best, learning every sensitive spot that made your body shake beneath his touch. Then he kissed you softly before trailing kisses down your neck, never stopping his fingers.
You were getting close.
And the way Michael looked at you only intensified everything. His eyes were full of desire and control, watching you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and his fingers sped up. So did the movements of his thumb against your clit.
And only seconds later, you came all over his fingers with a louder moan than you probably should’ve let out.
Michael immediately kissed you again before slowly licking his fingers clean while looking directly at you, a smug smirk resting on his lips.
He was still painfully hard. And you noticed. Your hand slid over the bulge in his jeans, squeezing gently.
“Need some help?” you whispered, biting your lip.
Michael let out a shaky breath before guiding your hand over him exactly the way he wanted, groaning softly at the pressure.
But only seconds later, the timer suddenly went off.
“Fuck” Michael cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated. You almost never heard him swear, which only proved how badly the interruption annoyed him.
He bit his lower lip, quickly fixing his hair and clothes while you did the same before both of you stepped out of the closet looking far different than when you’d entered. Really sweaty and flustered.
“You enjoyed that a little too much, huh?” your best friend teased immediately with a laugh and a wink, considering everyone had very clearly heard you moaning.
A few moments later, you sat back down beside Michael. Then suddenly, you felt warm breath near your ear and his hand settling onto your thigh again.
“You still owe me somethin’,” Michael murmured with a smirk before casually taking another shot.
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© mjluverrrr ™
Notes: Omg i’ve been so fucking busy, but soon i’ll be able to write more. I hope y’all enjoy this, i really enjoyed, i love writing smut <3
