syn : he is insecure of his cute glasses library ;)
michael had never thought in his years of living that he would ever need glasses. that was until he fell down the stairs, missing a step from his blurry vision. you practically yelled at him to go to the optometrist and get a pair of glasses. and that’s what he did. one of michaels security took him to the car, and drove him there. leaving you sitting in the couch. hands running over your face. frustrated at a hard headed michael.
meanwhile, michael was contemplating even giving in to go to the optometrist. I mean, yea. he did need the glasses. but it was embarrassing. he had been avoiding this issue for a few weeks. now it had just caught up to him. he hated the fact that he had a pretty girl next to him. and he would be wearing glasses. looking dumb, and old. his overthinking was put to the side at the feeling of the car stopping.
“okay mr. jackson let’s go.” one of his security mumbled. helping him out of the car, and into the building.
michael walked out of his appointment feeling humiliated. not because someone in there said something. but because in his hands he had a chunky pair of glasses. he knew for a fact that when he walked into your shared home. you would surely be ashamed of him, disgusted by him. those thoughts ran through his mind the entire drive back home. god what was he gonna tell you.
you heard the car pull up in the driveway. immediately going on your feet. you wanted to know what happened at the appointment, and if any serious treatment was needed. the door opened, and you were met with a sad, puppy dog michael. his eyes were avoiding yours, his lips slightly downturned, and his forehead slightly moist. sweating out of nervousness.
“love? what happened?” your voiced was laced with worries. confused why your own husband won’t look you in the eyes. a million thoughts formed in your head.
“mikey, did someone in there say- or do something to you?”
his head finally lifted to meet your eyes. they were not the usual bright and happy ones you were so used to seeing. now they were hollow, and filled with insecurity. confused, you stepped closer to him. putting a hand one his cheek.
“talk to me angel”
your voice was smooth. leaving no room for argument. that’s when everything fell out. all the thoughts he had been feeling about these stupid glasses. the idea of him wearing them and looking a complete fool next to you. you were taken aback. how could he say these things. you hadn’t even seen the pair of glasses and you knew he would pull them off effortlessly. you’ve had enough hearing him talk down on himself.
“michael- stop, honey stop. let’s get one thing straight, I would never- and I mean never. stop loving you over a stupid pair of glasses. nothing could come between what I feel for you and I need you to know that. second, in all honesty I haven’t even seen the pair of glasses and I just know you can pull them off so effortlessly. give them a try mikey”
your words left his cheeks red. his head hanging low. and soft giggles leaving his mouth.
“gosh (name) you truly are my hype woman”
you smiled, taking the box of glasses out of his hands. you gently took opened the box, taking the out of the box. and handing it to michael.
“can I see em’ on?”
he nodded. accepting the glasses. leaning his head towards the ground, so you wouldn’t see them on immediately. that’s when you grabbed his chin, guiding his head to be alined with yours. your eyes widened. you almost melted on the spot. the sliver framed hugged his temples perfectly. the prescription on the glasses was pretty high you assumed. considering the fact it made his bambi eyes even bigger. he looks so cute hot in them. there were no other words to put it. michael on the other hand, shifted under your gaze. his eyes roaming around the house. he was honestly so confused by your reaction.
“baby- do ya’ like em’?” he questioned, smiling.
“do i like them? angel- i love them! you look so hot baby oh my goodness.”
michael mouth formed an “O” shape. smiling. out of all the reactions he was prepared for you to have. this was the least expected one. especially calling him hot? I mean hot wasn’t one of the thought he had for himself trying them on. but that’ll work for him. suddenly he stumbled backwards by you slamming your lips together. leading into a somewhat steamy makeout sesh.
Summary: Michael came to reader after an incident with his father then suddenly proposed to her.
Warnings: ‘you’, ‘your’, and y/n used, gf!reader, bf!michael, mentions of Joseph’s abuse towards Michael, fem!reader
Word Count: 930
No one quite loved like Michael Jackson. It was a unique and beautiful thing, the way he loved. Most days he worried his heart might burst with the amount of love he felt, for everyone and everything. When the world felt dark, Michael saw the light. Or in your words, he was the light.
It was a cool afternoon. You were in your room, home alone, when you heard the doorbell ring. You paused what you were doing and walked down the stairs to the front door. The door squeaked quietly as you opened it and peeped through the crack. It was Michael, looking like he was about to burst into tears. You immediately opened the door properly and looked at him in concern. “Mikey, what’s wrong?” You asked and gestured for him to come inside. Michael walked in and sniffled before asking if anyone else was home. You shook your head no. “Come on, let’s go to my bedroom,” you say gently and take Michael’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you carefully led him upstairs to your room.
As soon as you had shut yourself and Michael in your room, he approached, wrapped his arms around your waist, and buried his face in your neck as he finally let the tears fall. Your neck and shoulder was wet but you ignored it — you didn’t care — as you held him close. Michael’s body shook and trembled with emotion. He only allowed himself to be like this around you, his beloved girlfriend.
“He’s terrible to me, y/n,” Michael choked into your shoulder. “I know, love, I’m sorry…” you murmured, feeling deep pain for your boyfriend, and boiling rage for his father. Michael sniffled and looked up at you, his eyes wet and puffy from crying. Even in his sadness, his eyes were full of love and adoration as he looked at you. “This is going to sound crazy…” he said. You looked at him calmly. “Tell me,” you encouraged gently. Michael pulled back a little and took your hands in his. His eyes stared into yours intensely as he said, “I want us to run away together, start our own life.”
When he said those words, it almost felt like the world had stopped. You weren’t sure what to say, it was so sudden. Of course you wanted a life with Michael, but you still had a home here. You weren’t sure if you were ready to leave permanently yet.
“Michael…” you started gently. Panic flashed in Michael’s eyes at your tone and his grip on your hand tightened subconsciously. “Hear me out, baby, I know it’s crazy, but I’m in love you. I want to marry you and I want us to have children together,” he explained quickly. You bit your lip as you considered his words. “You really mean that? You want that? With… me?” You knew he wasn’t lying, he would never lie about that. But you still had to ask. Michael nodded. “Please marry me, y/n. Please have my children. I understand if you need time to think about it, but I want you, forever.”
“Let me sleep on it and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” You said, deciding that you did need time to think about it. Michael nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on your cheek. “Of course, my love,” he said lovingly. You sighed and gave him a soft smile before gently pulling him over to your bed. “Cuddles?” You asked, to which Michael nodded eagerly. “Yes, always”. The two of you laid down and Michael laid on top of you, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you, Mikey,” you murmured lovingly. “I love you, too, baby,” Michael replied.
The next morning came, and you awoke without even realising you had fallen asleep. Michael was still fast asleep on you and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon, which you didn’t mind. You stroked Michael’s hair gently and thought about what Michael had said the day before. You thought about his relationship with his father and how good it would be for Michael to be away from him. Your home life was good, you’d always have a place there. Michael was the love of your life, of course you wanted to marry him. It was sudden yesterday, but thinking about it now after a good night’s rest, you realise that you love Michael enough to do this. Although, you would tell him to wait a while before having a child.
Michael eventually started to stir, and your fingers paused its rhythmic motion. His eyes fluttered open and he squinted his eyes up to look at you. “Mornin’, baby,” he murmured with a small smile on his lips. He exhaled and relaxed his head again. “Good morning, my love,” you said back and continued stroking his hair. He smiled and murmured, “I adore mornings like this.” There was a slight hesitation before you replied, with confidence, “me too. I was thinking, Mikey…” “hm?” He hummed. “I want to start our life together too. Marriage, moving…” After you said that, Michael froze then looked up at you to make sure you weren’t joking with him. You were serious. After coming to this realisation, he smiled warmly and leaned his head up to pepper your face with his kisses. He pulled back and giggled as he looked at you with a sweet smile. “You have no idea how happy I am. I love you so much, baby.”
summary: a rainy movie night and a dumb game of twister turns into way too much tension once michael realizes you’re definitely teasing him on purpose
pairing: michael jackson x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT, teasing, tension, kissing, michael losing his mind a little
a/n: based on this ask :3 i loved writing this i haven't wrote for michael yet send more mike requests pls :)
The rain was so loud it felt like it was inside the house with us. We’d been rotting on the couch for hours, half watching some movie we didn’t care about, just eating snacks and poking at each other like bored cats.
I was still in Michael’s white button-up from earlier, the one I stole after getting caught in the rain. It barely covered anything, and I knew it. He kept looking. Not even trying to hide it anymore.
“You’re such a little shit tonight,” he said, dragging me closer by my ankle until my legs were across his lap. His fingers traced slow circles on my calf.
I smirked and let the shirt ride up higher on purpose. “You like it though.”
His hand paused, then kept moving, sliding higher. The tension between us had been stupid for weeks all those almost moments and late texts. Tonight it felt like it was finally going to snap.
Then he got up without saying anything and came back holding that ancient Twister box like he’d just discovered gold.
I laughed. “You’re actually insane if you think I’m playing that.”
“Scared?” He raised an eyebrow, that cocky little smile I hated (and loved).
“Please. I’m not scared of Twister.”
“Prove it then.”
We shoved the coffee table out of the way and spread the mat on the floor. He was in those gray sweats and a black tank, looking way too good for a random Wednesday night. The game started normal, but it didn’t stay that way for long.
Every stretch made it worse. My thigh brushing his arm. His hand grazing the back of my leg. When I had to reach across him, my ass pressed right against his crotch and I felt him getting hard. Fast.
“Fuck…” he muttered.
I looked back at him, trying not to smile. “You good back there?"
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
I didn’t deny it.
A couple turns later I leaned way forward for a green circle and the shirt completely gave up, sliding up to my waist. I was bare underneath. Completely. I knew he could see everything.
Michael went dead quiet.
Then we both lost our balance at the same time and crashed. I landed on top of him, straddling his hips, shirt bunched around my waist. His hands grabbed my ass immediately, squeezing hard as he pulled me down against him. He was rock hard.
The laughing stopped.
His eyes were dark, breathing heavy. “You’ve been soaked this whole time, haven’t you?”
Before I could answer, his fingers slid between my legs from behind, stroking through how wet I was. I gasped as he pushed two fingers inside me, curling them.
“Michaelll”
He pulled me down into a messy kiss, all tongue and heat, while his fingers moved faster. I reached between us and shoved his sweats down, wrapping my hand around his cock. He groaned into my mouth when I started stroking him.
“Fuck the game,” he said against my lips, voice rough.
He flipped me onto my back on the mat. The shirt got ripped open, buttons scattering everywhere. His mouth was on my tits instantly, sucking hard, biting just enough to make me squirm. His cock rubbed against my pussy, teasing my clit until I was shaking.
“Tell me you want it,” he breathed, dragging his teeth down my neck.
“I want you to fuck me” I whispered, lifting my hips. “Now.”
He pushed in deep in one thrust. We both moaned. He felt thick, stretching me perfectly. Then he started fucking me hard no more teasing. The sound of skin slapping and the pouring rain filled the room.
I dug my nails into his back, legs wrapped tight around him as he drove into me. It was messy, desperate, and exactly what we both needed.
When I came, it hit me so hard I cried out, clenching around him. He followed right after, burying himself deep and groaning my name.
We stayed tangled on the stupid Twister mat afterward, sweaty and breathing hard, the rain still hammering the windows.
He finally looked at me, half-smiling.
“Best fucking game night ever."
Tag list: (if u wanna be added to it please ask/dm me, i tried to add everyone so if someone's missing pls lemme know)
Request by anon: Hey can i request a archangel Michael x reader where Michael used young John Winchester vessel? Where the brothers find out that Michael have a sweet side that is only with reader despite the fact that she is half witch and half demon but is the most sweet and innocent girl that someone can meet and Michael just want to protect her from everything and the fact that she is pregnant with his baby so the baby would be a tribrid (angel demon witch) something crazy, powerful, and new? Just fluff and cuddling between Michael and reader and happy ending.
Summary: You're trying to live your life and help others as much as you can while Michael is out doing what he does best. When two hunters fall into your lap, Michael realizes the danger of the situation and comes right home, ready to give up everything for the woman he loves.
Square Filled: nurse au (2020) for @spnfluffbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
“Hi, Gertrude. How are you doing today?” you greet your patient with a smile.
“Oh, just fine, dear. You know I love seeing your face but I hate being back here.”
“I know. You did a great job last time. The cancer has gone down a bit. The treatment is working.”
“Good. I’m glad,” she smiles.
“I am here to take some blood and be on my say. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“You’re never a bother, dear.”
She puts out the same arm you’ve been using for the past year to take blood. She has been battling cancer for a long time and has been seeing you for treatment since the beginning. The best part about being a nurse is seeing patients grow and heal. Gertrude is on her way if she keeps up the treatments.
You grab the blue tourniquet and tighten it around her upper arm to constrict the flow of blood. It makes for an easy vein. You wipe an alcohol pad across her skin to sterilize it before poking at her skin to get her veins to show.
“You’ve been drinking water, right?”
“Eight glasses a day. My daughter makes sure I have it. I forget sometimes.”
“You have good veins. You’re doing everything right.” You grab the butterfly needle and she looks away before you stick her with the needle. She’s been doing this for a long time but seeing the needle enter her skin still makes her squeamish. “Alright, the needle is in, you can look now.”
“How have you and the baby been?” she asks with a smile.
You place your left hand on your growing stomach with a shy smile. When her blood is done filling one tube, you take it out and push in the next so that the second tube can be filled.
“He’s doing so good. Kicking a lot,” you chuckle.
“Awh, that’s good, dear. I’m glad to hear it. I remember having my first child. It seems like she never slept because all she would do is kick me.”
“Yeah, I’m glad he’s not much of a mover, especially when I’m sleeping. He must sense I need a break,” you wink. You get done filling all three tubes before taking the needle out and placing a cotton swab over the wound before tying it down with two pieces of skin tape. “Alright, I will be back in a little bit. You just relax.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she smiles.
You leave her room and head back to the nurses’ station where you package the blood correctly and have an intern rush this to the labs to get tested.
“So, when is Michael going to come by again?” one of your nurse friends, Jessica, asks. “We miss him.”
“You only miss his cookies,” you smirk.
“Maybe,” she shrugs with a smile. “I can’t help it. His cooking is so good.”
Whenever Michael does have time to come down, he always brings something he cooked for you to share with the other nurses. It’s his way of apologizing for never being around all the time.
“He’s busy with work,” you keep it vague. “I’m not sure when he’s gonna be back. All I know is that it’s soon.” You grab three more empty clean vials to take someone else’s blood who is next on your list. “Gotta go.”
You’re halfway to the patient’s room when you get a searing pain in your stomach. This kind of thing has happened before so you don’t want to alert anyone about premature labor or anything. You walk to the nearest bathroom and make sure it’s empty before leaning over the sink. You take three deep breaths and try to calm down in hopes it will ease your son’s worries.
“Baby, Mommy’s doing fine. I’m okay.”
That doesn’t seem to ease him so you look at your reflection and change the color of your eyes from their natural tint to pitch black. You use some of your magic to calm your son down which works once he feels the comforting aura. As soon as you know he’s not going to cause you any more pain, you turn your eyes back to their normal color and ease up on your magic.
“There you go, baby. See? Mommy’s fine.”
You’re half-demon and half-witch who doesn’t like to use powers unless you really have to. The only time you will is if a patient is in critical condition with no hope of survival. You have some healing abilities and try to help as many people as you can. You’re not as evil as a demon but you’re sweeter than a witch. Maybe that’s why Michael took to you many years ago.
You’re different than the others.
You leave the bathroom and continue with your shift, going from room to room to gather vitals, take blood, and check up on patients to get them anything they need. Once the clock strikes twelve, you take your badge and rush to the time clock.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes!” you announce to your friends and clock out.
You’re on your way to grab a quick bite from the cafeteria when two men step foot into the hospital.
“Help, he needs help,” the taller one says.
“Are you okay?” you rush over without thinking you’re supposed to be taking your lunch. “What happened?”
“He’s been stabbed. I can’t seem to stop the bleeding.”
“Come here.” You take them to an empty room and lay the shorter one on the examination table to get a better look at what you're working with. You unbutton his shirt and see a deep ash on his abdomen. “Oh, yeah, they got you good. What happened?”
“I walked into a knife.”
“Accident,” the taller one says at the same time as the shorter one.
“He accidentally walked into a knife,” the taller one grounds out, giving the shorter one a weird look.
“Right. Let me get the doctor in here.”
You’re about to leave when the shorter one sits up.
“Sweetheart, I just need some stitches and I’ll be as good as new.”
“This is a stabbing. I need to get the doctor.”
“Alright, then I guess we’ll leave. Come on, Sammy.”
He tries to get off the table but you gently push him back down so he doesn’t go anywhere.
“You’re going to get me in trouble.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he smirks.
“Wait here,” you sigh and leave the room. You return with a kit that will help you stitch his skin back together. You open his shirt the rest of the way to clean the wound when you notice something on the left side of his chest. An anti-possession tattoo. “You’re hunters.”
“I mean, sure, we like to hunt animals here and there but nothing serious,” the tall one stutters.
“That’s not the kind of hunters I’m talking about, and you know it.” You dab the wound to clean it and the man hisses. “I know an anti-possession symbol when I see one.”
“How do you know about hunting?”
You look at both men and flash your eyes black to show them what you really are. They lean back in shock but you’re quick to ease their concerns.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” You change your eye color back to normal and continue to fix the man. “I’m half-demon anyway. Half-demon and half-witch.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Helping as many people as I can with the curse I’ve been given. I didn’t choose to be this way. I was born a witch, a full-fledged witch who was happy in her coven. My coven was ransacked by a group of demons who took a liking to me. Long story short, I was with them for five tortuous years when they finally put a blade in my heart. Well, I had created a serum I kept in my body, much like the hex bags Rowena kept in her body to keep herself from dying, and I was brought back to life. Only this time, I was half-demon. I don’t know how or why because I never saw those demons again. Now I just keep to myself and help out as many people as I can.”
You don’t tell them about Michael because you know he’d be pissed if you kept telling people about him. He’s very hated in the hunting community, so the more people know about him the more you and your son can be in danger. You’re not sure why because Michael is nothing but sweet, kind, and loving. He’s good but most people don’t see that.
“What about you two? What really happened here?”
“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We were on a demon hunt not far from here when one of them stabbed my brother. I usually do the stitching but this seemed a bit too deep to just patch up.”
“Winchester?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve heard about you two. I never thought we’d meet. I tend to stay away from hunters.” You quickly fix Dean up and place a large cotton pad over the wound, securing it with skin tape. “I was on my way to get something to eat if you two want like to join me?”
“Sure,” Sam smiles.
You clean up the mess you made and escort the two brothers to the cafeteria. You and Dean get a hearty lunch while Sam gets something mild like a salad.
“Not to point out the obvious but I can see you’re pregnant.”
“Your point?” you ask and take a bite of your food.
“We’ve met a half-human, half-demon child before. He was too powerful for his own good.”
“Yeah, well, you haven’t met a witch-demon-angel tribrid before.”
Shit, you weren't supposed to tell them that an angel impregnated you.
“You got pregnant by an angel? Which one?” Dean asks.
“Doesn’t matter. I know what you’re going to say. Every child of an angel ends up motherless. They all die giving birth but not me. I am not going to let my child only know pictures and videos of me. I made a spell so powerful that I can draw from when I give birth. I don’t have to die.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Honestly, me either. It might not work. It’s all speculation at this point.” Your phone rings and you smile when you see who is calling. “Sorry, excuse me.” You answer it. “Hi, baby.”
“Darling, I’m sorry but it’s going to take a little bit longer until I can come home.”
“It’s okay, I get you’re busy.”
“I hate leaving you all alone without protection.”
“I don’t think that will be an issue. I met two hunters who I hear are the best. I just met them. Plus, I have my magic to protect me.”
“What hunters?”
“Sam and Dean Winchester.”
Michael’s ears ring at the mention of them. Panic envelops his entire body.
“Change of plans. I’m coming home right now.”
He hangs up abruptly and you pull the phone from your ear in confusion.
“That was weird,” you mutter. Since you stayed and helped Dean, your lunch break was cut down by fifteen minutes. “I have to get back to work. You can stay here and hang out if you want.”
“Sure, thanks,” Sam smiles. You leave the cafeteria to return back to work and Sam turns to his brother. “Are we staying?”
“She’s a demon/witch who got pregnant by an angel. Of course, we’re staying.”
Sam and Dean kept a close eye on you from a distance while you worked until your last break of the day. You don’t have to clock out for this one since it’s only fifteen minutes so you grab a granola bar to snack on and your tablet. You almost run into the brothers because you’re not watching where you’re going.
“Oh, hey! Have you been here the whole day?”
“Yeah, you know, just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Thanks but I’m okay. I have a couple of more hours left before I get to go home. You don’t have to stay here.” You walk around them to find an empty on-call room when you spot your boyfriend standing at the nurse’s desk. “Michael!”
You run into his arms and kiss his cheek but he’s staring at Sam and Dean with a deadly look.
“You alright?”
Sam and Dean are floored at who you’ve just kissed because they know exactly who this is. Dean met him when he went back in time to meet his father. It’s like he’s staring at someone he used to know but he has to remind himself that the person in front of him isn’t a young John Winchester. It’s Michael, the archangel.
“You know him?” Sam asks.
“This is my boyfriend,” you grin.
“Can I talk to you two alone?” he says and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll be right back, darling.” He takes them to an empty room and allows them to go in first. “I don’t care what you want. You win. Take whatever you want. Just leave her alone.”
“You don’t even know what we want,” Dean says.
“I don’t care. I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll leave Heaven alone. Just don’t bring her into it.”
Sam and Dean look at each other before the younger one nods in agreement. They make some sort of deal where Michael leaves everyone alone and no one will come after you or your son before and after birth. Michael leaves the room twenty minutes later and brings you into his arms.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving.”
“Now? I have two more hours of my shift.”
“Don’t worry about that. We need to go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home,” he smiles down at you. “I’m not leaving you anymore.”
You’re his entire world and he’d give up everything to make sure you’re safe and sound, even giving up the throne.
“Let’s go home, then,” you smile back.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
this could be heaven (if heaven was an actual place)
hello there! it’s time for the 2022 5SOS Song Fic Fest ( @5sos-fic-fest )! it’s here! we did it!
firstly! many many thanks to @allsassnoclass for organizing this event! this was so fun and i’m very very appreciative for your support and for keeping all of us organized lol.
this fic is inspired by the song Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa by FINNEAS. (it’s a good one! go listen!)
special thanks go out to @reveriesofawriter for reading like three different versions of this silly little story and also convincing me at least a few times that i was indeed capable or writing this. meghna ilysm, idk how i got so lucky to know you. also many thanks to @kaleidoscopeminds <3 somehow the moment i was questioning whether or not i should participate in this event, meg showed up in my dms to encourage me to sign up. she’s got super powers i stg. meg ily your support in all things means more than i could ever express. also - shout out to my roommate who let me read bits of this out loud to her to check for flow. she’ll never read this but bless her.
here this is on ao3 if that’s more your jam
happy reading :)
Michael is still getting used to not waking up alone.
Before, when he was off tour, he’d wake around 9. Though all of the health Tiktoks he’d get on his For You page (and his mother) would advise against it, he typically would immediately pick up his phone and scroll through the notifications that had gathered while he slept. Usually dumb things on Twitter and Instagram, late night DMs of dog videos from Calum, emails also from Calum related to something the PR team needs Michael to do. Eventually, he would climb out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen to wake up his coffee maker.
While the coffee brewed, he would feed the dogs and turn on a podcast likely suggested to him by Ashton (he was big on podcasts for a while). He would let the dogs out to the backyard before sitting at the island with his coffee to continue listening to the podcast. His second cup would be accompanied by a scroll through his news app to check up on what was going on in the world. After he felt caught up, he would retreat back to his room, get dressed, and text Calum or whoever he was writing with or his manager, all depending on what was to be done that day. He didn’t spend all that much time with his mornings; there was always something to be done and he didn’t want to get behind on things.
But still, it was a mindless routine. His mother or Ashton would shake up the routine every once in awhile by sharing some tip they had heard or read somewhere that would have Michael adding in a glass of lemon water before the coffee or a gummy multivitamin that he kept on his nightstand to make sure he didn’t forget to take them. But ultimately the routine stuck to the same general pattern until Michael went on tour and would have to relearn the whole thing upon returning to LA so many months later.
That all changed after Luke became a part of Michael’s world.
It depended on the day of the week. He taught early morning labs on some weekdays and it made more sense for him to stay at his place closer to campus to get to those since sweetheart, I love you but rockstars live too far from the campus. This particular morning was a Tuesday, which meant Luke wasn’t due on campus until a meeting with his advisor at 3PM. That meant they could sleep in. That was the first change to Michael’s routine: rising a bit later in the morning. But the purple painted below Luke’s baby blue eyes worried him more than he would ever let him know, so they slept in a bit.
The ridiculous sleep schedule was one of the first things Michael learned about Luke. Though it had taken a week for him to respond to Michael’s first messages to him after being set up by Calum and Ashton (It’s not my fault they decided to set me up with their hot musician friend the week before my qualifying exams, okay?), Luke’s initial suggestion that they meet for dinner at 10PM was the first of an endless number of times he would make Michael laugh. It was the lack of predictability of their schedules that made their amateur match-making friends first think that they might make a good pair. Six months since their first date at the diner across the street from campus and everyday Michael thanks his lucky stars that his best friends love getting in the middle of his business.
On this Tuesday, something stirs Michael closer to around 9:30. They’ve managed to remember to close the curtains for once so the room isn’t too bright and Michael is grateful to not wake up to the blinding mid-morning sun. He hears a scratch at the door (the dogs are still getting used to routines a bit later than they like). Michael turns his gaze to Luke, worried that the sudden noise will wake him.
Luke faces toward Michael, his chest pressed against the mattress and the blanket and sheets pushed down to the dip of his lower back. Michael’s eyes catch the constellation of freckles dotted along his back and shoulders that’s grown from summer afternoons at the beach with the dogs. If Luke were awake, Michael would probably trace a fingertip between them but again, his brilliant boy needs the rest. Blonde curls are splayed out on the pillow and half covering Luke’s face in a way that should look messy but somehow still looks like a piece of art. How Luke manages to look so angelic while unconscious is a mystery Michael thinks he could spend the rest of his life trying to solve and still come up with nothing.
Chapped lips puff against the pillow at a slow tempo and Michael figures there’s no way Luke is close to waking. He gently slides off the mattress to keep the beat steady and shuffles across the carpet to the door. He hears a quiet whine behind him and turns. Luke has lifted his head just slightly from the pillow. His eyes are hidden behind the hair that’s fallen in his eyes and his bottom lip is pouted in Michael’s direction. Michael laughs quietly and walks back toward the bed.
“Sleep for a few more minutes,” he mumbles through a kiss pressed to the top of Luke’s head and the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I’ll have coffee waiting on the patio.” Luke hums something that sounds like agreement to the plan (he rarely gets any argument from Luke when the promise of coffee has been made) and drops his head back to the pillow. Michael waits in the doorway for a moment, smiling at the scene of this boy he’s fallen so hard for even after just six months tangled up in his sheets. He pulls his eyes away and gently closes the door behind him, only just barely fighting against the temptation to crawl back into bed and let the whole day slip away from them under the cover of bright white blankets and sheets.
Michael shuffles down the hall and through a morning-sun soaked living room. The kitchen is lit up from the big windows over the sink, the light bouncing off of a flower vase sitting in the window sill painting the countertops with a pink glow. Michael starts brewing a pot of coffee, the dogs’ nails clicking against the kitchen floor behind him. Moose spends the whole thirty seconds it takes for him to dump a cup of food in her bowl whining and looking up at him with pleading eyes. He laughs quietly to himself and pets the top of her head before he returns to the coffee pot. Michael has taken a pause on the morning podcasts; he’s found that starting his days with quiet is more effective in lifting his mood. He likes not having to pause something when Luke eventually comes out to join him.
He is comforted by the sound of the dogs eating their breakfast and the coffee dripping into the carafe. He remembers the first time he felt that, how he got so worried that he was settling into some kind of domesticity too young. When he raised the concern with his mom, she only laughed, saying she had felt the same thing at his age. He thinks about how his parents have spent their mornings for the last thirty years.
He reaches into the cabinet above the coffee machine for a couple mugs (his, from a radio station in Cleveland, and Luke’s, bright red and reads Trust me! I’m an engineer.). He pours them each a mug (adding a couple spoonfuls of sugar to his own) before heading out the sliding glass door onto the patio. He’s found that the fresh air wakes him up probably even more than the coffee, if he’s being honest. It’s late September and living in LA means the tile under his feet is still warm despite autumn arriving a few days before. The dogs run around his feet before chasing each other into the grass and around the pool. Michael smiles, squinting against the light and takes a seat on the couch after setting the mugs safely on the coffee table.
As he drinks his coffee, he finds himself trying to somehow savor the moment more than he normally does (he’s gotten a lot better at being present just in general, his therapist would be proud of him). He leaves for a short tour in a couple days and as much as he loves being on the road, he finds he misses the mornings most when on a bus for weeks at a time.
When he was away in June and July for a summer tour, he was reminded for the first time in a while of why he had spent so long guarding his heart from something like what he had with Luke. It was a tour with six bands Michael had spent the end of his teen years traveling across the country with during Warped Tour. It was like traveling with family, and yet Michael found himself missing someone other than his mom on tour for the first time pretty much ever. When he talked to Calum and Ashton about it one night in the parking lot before bus call and asked if they thought he was too into Luke and I don’t know guys, maybe this isn’t good for me, maybe we need to take a break. Calum had only rolled his eyes but Ashton smiled kindly and patted him on the back to tell him it was the exact way he had felt about Calum out on his first tour and then handed Michael his phone already dialing Luke.
Realizing his heart didn’t belong entirely to himself anymore was an adjustment but after six weeks of almost nightly phone calls (sometimes Facetimes when Michael found himself missing Luke’s too big smile and California skies and eyes to match it) and the trip Luke made to the Chicago stop (Michael, I want to visit the Bean), he thinks he knows how to go about things this time around. (It’s another thing his therapist would probably be proud of him for.)
It’s the Chicago trip that Michael is thinking about when he hears the back door slide open and a moment later, a pair of lips pressing against the bedhead he’s yet to bother taming. Luke joins him on the couch, immediately moving to fold his long legs up under him and settle under the arm Michael holds out. His hair is tied back in a tiny bun and he’s wearing one of Michael’s old stretched out t-shirts that’s threatening to fall from his shoulder. Luke looks so good in the mornings, it should be criminal. He takes a sip of his coffee and hums to himself, delighted at the taste.
“Good morning,” Luke says in a voice still gravelly from sleep, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. He presses another kiss against Michael’s jaw and drops his head against his shoulder. Michael lets his fingers tangle into the curls at the back of Luke’s neck while taking another sip of his coffee.
“Sleep alright?” Michael asks with a laugh when he hears Luke yawn. Out in the yard, South settles in for a nap in the sun. Moose continues to run in circles around the smaller dog.
Luke leans forward to set his mug on the coffee table. “Like a baby,” he replies, and leans back into the couch. “I’m going to come over here and steal all your fancy pillows while you’re out on the road. Costco pillows are like bricks to me now.”
Michael laughs. “You could just stay here while I’m gone, you know? Calum is going to be here to watch the dogs but I don’t think he’d mind the company.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Luke says with a wave of his hand. “We’ve already planned slumber parties so we can gossip about you and Ashton while you’re on the other side of the country.”
“As long as Moose gets her special treats, the place is all yours.”
“Thank you, honey.”
They sit in the silence for a while, the jingle of the dogs’ collar tags and the windchime around on the front porch a delicate soundtrack as they finish their coffee. Luke moves to stretch out along the couch when Michael gets up to leave their mugs in the sink and grab his journal.
The remainder of their morning routine continues from there. Michael does some journaling, scribbling down some lyrics in the margins until he finishes up the prompt he had been working on. After a few minutes, Luke stands and wanders into the yard. He stretches and runs around with the dogs for a while (his bright laughter when the dogs run between his feet the music to go along with Michael’s doodled lyrics). Eventually, he returns to the patio and drops back onto the couch, his head dropping to the pillow on the opposite end of the couch from Michael.
Michael pauses in his writing and turns to look at Luke. He’s lost the hair elastic that had been holding the bun at some point and his hair looks something like a tiny lion’s mane the way it fans out against the pillow he’s resting on. His fingers are pulling at the bottom hem of the t-shirt he’s wearing in a way that just after they met earlier in the year, Michael has always interpreted as a nervous habit. He remembers being worried he was making Luke nervous somehow only to find out it’s just what Luke did when he was working through some puzzle or idea in his mind. Michael studies his face now, the way his nose will scrunch up just the slightest bit, the small lines forming between his eyebrows. Luke’s eyes don’t stray from their gaze up at the ceiling as he reaches a hand up to scratch at the pale stubble on his jaw. It’s like he’s tracing out invisible constellations on the ceiling of Michael’s back patio.
Michael lifts a hand and gently pats at Luke’s ankle, a silent back in a minute with more coffee. As he heads for the door, he can’t be certain if the quiet buzzing he hears in between the windchime is the hummingbird visiting the feeder outside the kitchen window or the racing of Luke’s mind. He settles on the possibility of both and opens the sliding door.
He leans against the island as the coffee maker whirs back to life and looks back out to the patio. Luke has sat up in preparation for more coffee and even from the far side of the kitchen, Michael just catches Luke’s dimple as he lets the dogs climb all over him on the couch.
He thinks back to his parents again, about one particular picture that’s hanging in the dining room back home in Sydney. It’s the two of them, probably about the same age Michael is now, Michael’s dad laughing at something and his mom smiling fondly behind her mug. Growing up, his mom had always told him that that’s what love should be; someone who never stops bringing you joy, who never stops making you laugh. Michael spent a very long time thinking that it would be okay if he never found that romantically, that it wasn’t something he needed.
He thinks about the lockscreen image on his phone, a picture Calum had taken when the four of them had gone out for brunch in Chicago before Luke and Calum had needed to head for the airport. In the picture, Michael is wearing one of Luke’s hoodies and has an arm around the back of Luke’s chair. Luke’s eyes are closed in laughter and Michael is smiling as he reaches for his coffee with his free hand.
Michael never intended to share his heart with someone else. But as he fills the coffee mugs again to head back outside, he finds himself making a mental note to print some pictures for the frames in his dining room.
+++
It’s their last night in Paris.
They had started the day ambitious, intent on trying the fancy place a couple blocks from the hotel for dinner but after a day of sight-seeing, they both knew that they were lacking the patience and energy required to get changed and be in public any longer. Michael had been trying to think of a way to make the suggestion to stay in to Luke in the back of their Uber when Luke lifted his head from Michael’s shoulder to shyly suggest that they chill that bottle of sparkling wine they had picked up the day before and order room service instead. Over three years together and it still sometimes surprises Michael how in sync they often are.
They pass a couple of the guys from Michael’s band and crew in the lobby (Ashton and Calum missing because there was something Ashton had needed to ask Calum at the bistro where they had their first date on Michael’s 2016 European tour). Michael waves to them while Luke asks for the ice machine location at the front desk. As they wait for the elevator, Michael intertwines his fingers with Luke’s, smiling at the way Luke never fails to squeeze their palms together every single time Michael holds his hand. It gives him butterflies that he was certain had all flown away when he was still a dumb teenager traveling across the country in cramped vans and kissing boys in the alleys behind shitty bars that had barely even let a teenage punk take the stage. He lifts their joined hands up to his lips as the elevator chimes its arrival.
Their room is golden from the light pouring in through the open curtains as the sun starts its fall toward the horizon in between the buildings they can see from their balcony. They tend to be messy travelers (it makes Ashton anxious whenever he has to stop by for an allergy pill or Michael's Switch charger) and this trip is no exception, their clothes all mixed together between two open suitcases in front of the bed. It's not often they're allowed so much time in one spot but between some additional promo for the new single and actual begging with his booking agent, the band and crew (and partners with airline miles burning a hole in their pockets) got four whole days in Paris. Michael's been highly reflective for a number of reasons on this trip and thinking about how far he's come in his career, to be able to have that flexibility in his touring schedule, isn't lost on him.
Luke doesn't wait for Michael to follow him before continuing through the entryway and launching himself onto the bed. Michael leans against the wall, a smile pulling at his lips at the sight of Luke wiggling out of a cardigan Michael is pretty sure was pulled from his own suitcase. He's been grateful to have Luke out on the road, though he's especially happy it was this week he was able to make it out rather than a week of back to back dates. As much as he loves being able to see his boyfriend standing side stage night after night, he felt that Luke needed the rest. It's been a long semester for him, finally nearing the end of his studies. Michael knows Luke loves the work (he has a habit of reminding him even in his sleep on his most restless nights) but he sent his advisor a last, final draft of his dissertation for edits a couple hours before boarding the flight to France and the weight off his shoulders is almost physically obvious.
Michael tosses his hoodie toward the couch and grabs the room service menu before taking a spot beside Luke, Michael’s head dropping to rest against his shoulder. As the sun continues its daily descent, the sky painting their room in shades of orange and pink and purple as it goes, they call out anything that catches their eye to each other until Michael grabs the phone from the nightstand and dials for the room service line. Luke shuffles around and settles his head against Michael's lap and whispers last minute additions to their order as Michael smiles in between items to the person on the other end of the line. Luke doesn't move once Michael hangs up so he spends a few minutes running his fingers through Luke's hair fluffing up the curls that spent most of the day squashed by a beanie. He senses that the action is likely putting Luke to sleep so he asks him to lift his head back to the pillow, announcing that he needs to shower before food shows up.
Luke sits up for a moment and presses a kiss against Michael's jaw before dropping his head back to the pillow. He mumbles a promise to not sleep through the food being delivered as he reaches for his phone to set an alarm. Michael laughs but by the time he reaches the other side of the room and turns back toward the bed, Luke is already asleep again. He leans against the wall beside the bathroom again and smiles at the scene before him. Their somehow lived-in hotel room is bathed in indigo as the last moments of the day fade from the Parisian sky with Luke nestled into the center of it. The whole scene is a combination of so many things that Michael loves: music, touring, this gorgeous city, the person he so head over heels for that he gets to share all of it with.
He sometimes wonders if he should be worried, doing the long distance thing for as long as they have. Maybe he shouldn't be as comforted as he is by how well they work with Michael on the road and Luke as busy as he is with school but somehow it works for them. It's not something he's ever experienced with any other relationship in his life that exists outside of others in the industry. Up against everything that should make it all fall apart, they stand steady. He's never been religious, barely even spiritual if he's being honest with himself. But something about the view his eyes are taking in right now, Luke and their life and the skyline just beyond the balcony, feels like Heaven. Or whatever Heaven is meant to be.
-
A few hours later, Luke is twisting off the wire cage from the bottle of wine they had picked up. They're out on the balcony and the air is just on the cool side of a late summer night, perfectly comfortable with a hoodie tossed on. Michael doesn't bother closing the door when he comes back to join Luke with a couple of flutes he found hiding beside the mini-fridge. He smiles at the concentration shown on Luke's face when he carefully drops the cage on the table between them and starts twisting the cork. Michael places the flutes on the table a safe distance from where Luke is sitting right as the cork pops! into a potted plant next to Michael. Luke's laughter fills the air around them and he reaches for one of the glasses.
Michael watches Luke gently filling the glasses and finds his chest filled with an emotion he's been feeling every few hours since he woke up that morning. He's still doing a pretty good job at being present but he can't help the way he allows his heart to start longing for the boy across from him even before he's left to get back to the lab and the hallways of the university building Luke pretty much lives in when he's not with Michael. It's like there's a weight of something dropped onto his chest the moment Luke steps onto another flight away from him. It's a feeling Michael has had described to him from just about every person he's met on a tour who has a partner back home they’re waiting to get back to. It's a feeling Michael was hesitant to believe he'd ever experience himself. Now he's filled two albums just trying to describe it.
Luke leans across the table and sets a glass in front of Michael. He sits up for a moment himself and presses his lips to the corner of Luke’s mouth in thanks. As he settles back in his chair, his mind is pulled back to where they are right now: together, on a balcony in one of his favorite places in the world, in love, drinking horribly expensive bubbles. Beneath the table, Michael taps a slow beat against Luke's ankle with his foot. He feels floaty, like he's drunk on the moment before he's even sipped from the glass in front of him.
They talk about their plans for the week in the same kind of way that they would while making Sunday dinner back in LA. (In their kitchen, a title the space received about six months ago once Michael finally got the guts to ask Luke to move in. At that point, Luke had taken over a third of Michael’s closet, his entire bathroom counter, and was on a first name basis with every mail person that stopped by the house. Luke found the formality cute though and made a big show of changing his address in the university records when his lease ended the following month.) Michael and the band are headed onwards to Germany the following evening. Ashton had preemptively conspired some sort of reason to convince Calum to continue on with them to the Berlin show so they can be disgustingly in love and engaged for a solid 36 hours before Calum follows Luke home to LA. Luke has some meetings at the end of the week and needs to schedule a conference room for his defense at the end of October. Michael reminds him that the dogs have their checkup at the vet Friday afternoon and Luke runs inside for a moment for his phone to add that to his calendar because he had in fact forgotten. He returns with a quilt from bed and the slice of chocolate cake they had ordered earlier.
Michael shifts his chair closer to Luke so they can share both. It doesn’t get much better than this, he thinks, as Luke steals a kiss in between a bite of cake and a sip of wine. But then, he supposes, the city reads his mind somehow and the Eiffel Tower starts sparkling between buildings in the distance just behind Luke.
Yeah, Michael thinks when Luke turns to see what Michael is looking at and gasps, pretty close to Heaven.
+++
They have three hours until Michael needs to be back at the bus and four until Luke needs to be checked in at the airport. But the previous night, drunk on chocolate cake and sparkling wine and each other, they decided they needed to visit the Louvre. Michael had bought the tickets online and texted his tour manager the plan with Luke kissing down his neck and laughing in bed.
They had to be strategic in their plan for this visit, knowing they were limited on time. Luckily for them, it’s gorgeous outside, meaning that the museum is a touch less busy than it might be on a rainier day.
Luke decides they should finish their visit with the Mona Lisa since it’s likely to be one of the busier galleries and because he thinks it’ll be a cinematic way to finish off the trip. His labmates had been insistent that he tell them everything about his trip upon his return home, going so far as to schedule an additional meeting just before their lab meeting that week to catch up. He smiles to himself as he lets Michael lead him to the next gallery on their list, thinking about the chocolates in his suitcase he’s brought to share with Ellie and Jacob in their lab’s tiny break room.
Before he knows it, Luke is looking up and there’s a small crowd gathered around the center of the last room on their self-guided tour. They take a spin around the room first, admiring the other pieces gracing the space. Luke loves a museum day, but even more than that, he loves a museum day with Michael. He loves watching the way Michael will drop Luke’s hand to lift it to rest his chin in, his eyes slowly panning over a piece and then reading the card beside the frame, his fingers adorned with chipped black polish scratching at his beard. Luke loves art but there’s something about watching an artist love art that fills his chest up with a feeling he can’t even describe.
Finally they make their way to the room’s centerpiece, Michael’s eyes wide and maybe a touch watery as they take in the view. He’s been quiet in this room compared to most of the others. He reaches his hand back down for Luke’s, his eyes not leaving the piece in front of him. Luke keeps looking between the painting and Michael looking at the painting. He’s struck speechless, whether from the art or Michael, he’s not sure. He’s looking up at the piece again when Michael squeezes his fingers to get his attention.
“Not to be a dork but can you take a picture?” Michael asks shyly.
Luke smiles. “Of course,” he says, pulling out his phone. “Also you took like 60 of me with the Eiffel Tower, you are not a dork.”
He snaps a couple shots of Michael smiling just to the left of where the piece hangs several feet behind him, his cheeks pink and hair almost falling in his eyes.
Michael plucks the phone from Luke’s fingers as they step away, letting the people behind them take their turn in front of the painting. “How do they look?” Michael asks as he navigates to Luke’s photo app.
“Perfect,” Luke says. He reaches for Michael’s free hand as they head for the hall that will take them back toward the museum lobby. “Though she’s got nothing on you, honestly.”
Michael laughs brightly as they reach the stairs back to the Pyramid. “Now who’s the dork?” he laughs and lifts their joined hands to his lips. “Thank you for coming with me. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Luke echoes, and they step out into the light.
Part 3 of this series: Guardian angel/protective Michael
Part 2:
Michael’s soul mate: Part 2: jealousy
Part 1:
Meeting Michael: headcanon
(ALRIGHT YOUVE ALL WAITED LONG ENOUGH! Back by popular demand the fourth installment Michael and his gift reader fic again thank you to everyone who’s liked reblogged or showed interest in this series or in my writing in general. I truly appreciate each and every one of you! I just wanted to remind everyone to feel free to send me any requests or fic ideas my inbox is always open and i’ll do my best to accommodate you and as always let me know what you think if you’d like more of this series and if you’d like to help out a starving artist my Ko-fi link is in my bio if you feel so inclined Thank you and now back to your previously scheduled program! Let the sinning begin😈😈😈😈)
-You’re both silent as you walk the rest of the short journey to your apartment the air tense between the two of you
-Michael keeps glancing at you but will quickly look away when ever you catch him, fidgeting nervously
-your hands shake as you take out your key to open your apartment. Michael notices and takes your hand in his to steady it, turning the key in the lock. You gasp slightly at the contact and you can feel rather than see him tense
-the next few moments feel like a lifetime as you wait for the door to click open before you’re both stumbling into the apartment.
-you’ve got michael by his tie pulling him along with you, though he doesn’t seem to mind in fact it grounds him in a comforting way
-He closes the gap between you and the kiss almost sears you with the force it. You wrap your hand around his tie a few more times to solidify your grip and Michael smiles deliciously against your mouth he makes a noise somewhere between and hum and a growl before speaking. “Oh, you are perfect, aren’t you?” he says pulling back slightly to look at you adoringly. You give him a smirk. “you have no idea.” You reply pulling his tie closer to force him back forward slightly. “I’d love to find out.” He replies and you laugh fondly. So quick witted, so Michael, you think to yourself pulling him forward for another kiss before pulling away.
-The archangel Michael whines, literally whines at the loss of contact, looking doe eyed and confused back down at you scanning, waiting. Enough with the waiting, you think to yourself as you begin to step backwards towards your bedroom pulling him along with you. You stop when you feel the bed against the back of your knees. Something about the movement seems to sober Michael up slightly, as a nervous look passed over his face. “Are you sure? me?” You laugh, but in a broken sad kind of way as you look back at this beautiful man, this archangel, who thinks he is nothing. “Of course I am.” you breath out, and in one swift move you spin him around and push lightly on his chest, releasing his tie to let him fall back on the bed.
At that moment he winces, and you remember oh shit his shoulder. You hurry to him again, apologizing profusely. “Michael, I’m so sorry. I- shit I didn’t even think about-“ before you can finish your sentence you find yourself flipped upside down in the bed beside Michael, who sports a mischievous grin on his face. You laugh again, hitting him lightly. “Bastard.” He places a kiss to your nose in a gesture that is heart achingly sweet, “it worked didnt it?” “For now” You reach forward to start helping him out of his shirt but are stopped by his hand which knocks your out of the way gently.
“Michael, what’s wrong with you talk to me.” You say dodging insistent kisses before he pulls back frustrated. “Cant you just- Can’t I just pretend to be normal just for a few minutes- just for this.” he says desperately and your world tilts off its axis. “Michael you are normal.” “No, I am not. I’m- I my body is not like my twins. It’s-“ he pauses for a few moments blinking away tears. “It’s broken.” he finished hanging his head. You want to cry and scream and hold him all at the same time but you go with the last option saddling up to his side.
“Michael..” you call softly frowning as he continues to stare at the ground. You crawl into his lap forcing him to look at you, taking his head gently in your hands. “Michael, -“ you pause as he looks up at you eyes full of tears and pain and suffering and you pause just from the sorrow you see in his eyes. “You are perfect. You. not your brother, not his body. Your body. Michael, you are my guardian angel, you are strong and you have been through a lot, but neither you nor your body is broken.” You say quietly, running your hands soothingly through his hair. He exhales slowly, eyes closing for a moment. “Michael, I want you. I want to be with you. The way you are.” His eyes snap open. “I don’t deserve it.” He breathes out, shakily. “Who said anything about deserving.” you reply and you rejoice at seeing him crack a smile. “I - don’t want to disappoint you.” He says honestly and your heart breaks for him.
You gently reach your hand forward at a slow pace towards his shoulder, giving Michael plenty of time to pull back but this time he remains still. You make contact, and he gasps slightly and you lock eyes monitoring his reaction. After a moment you shift to slip your hand underneath the collar of his shirt to touch the bare skin underneath., you can feel the elaborate scarring of his shoulder, a constant reminder to both of you of what he’s been through. You squeeze ever so lightly at the edge of his shoulder reassuringly, “Just be you.”
It is that moment, that exact moment, that Michael falls deeply, eternally, and irrevocably in love with you and realizes that he belongs to you always and forever no matter what happens. He will always belong to you. You’re seared onto his heart like a brand but one that he wears with absolute pride. He is yours and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hello there, fellow humans! Or maybe not, I’m not sure. Anyway, this is my first fanfiction for American Horror Story and for Michael, so I hope you like it. This is nsfw, so please proceed with caution. I’ll put some warnings in, so if any of that makes you uncomfortable, then please do not read. My requests are open, so you can check the list of people who I write for and then send in a request!
WARNINGS: VERY SPICY bondage, blindfold, mentions of blood, knife , mentions of scars, hints of master and daddy kinks... hickeys and bites... yeah uh enjoy?
You know that one scene from Apocalypse when they had Evan Peters in that room? Yeah that.
———————————————————————
The piercing cold of the room was something that felt impossible to get used to. Rooms shouldn’t be allowed to be this cold, there should be some type of law against it. Your body shuddered, trying to warm yourself up, but there was no use. You were just going to have to be cold.
It didn’t help that you had chains attached to your wrists and ankles, spreading you out like the vitruvian man model, a perpetual jumping jack. Even as you pulled against them, the metal wasn’t going to budge, keeping you in place. There was only maybe a centimeter of movement, but not enough to pull your arms into your body to be able to free yourself. Face it, you’re trapped.
To top it all off, there was a blindfold covering your eyes. It wasn’t tied tightly, and it moved just a little, but you were still blinded for the most part. The material felt soft and silky, and it was difficult, almost impossible to see through the black cloth.
Your back stung, the pain burning, and if given the chance, you were sure you could trace the raised marks on your back. Let’s just say that some people hadn’t taken too kindly to how... close, you seemed to be with the new visitor from The Cooperative. This displeasure had now taken the form of raised lines along your back, left exposed to the cold air of the chilling room. The cold and hot sensations were conflicting, adding a new level of discomfort here.
Any thoughts you’d been having were interrupted, the sound of boots hitting the concrete floor echoing through the space. You couldn’t exactly see it, but with the way it echoed, you had to be in a larger room. Involuntarily, your body shivered, this time not from the temperature. You could tell who was now in front of you just based on how he walked, to you, the sound was unmistakable.
Nothing was said for a moment, and you could feel his eyes gazingover your figure. Currently, you didn’t have on a shirt, courtesy of Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead, but at least you still had underwear. But was that a blessing or a curse? Because that’s really all they’d left you.
You could hear the sound of Michae’s breathing, and soon you could feel it ghosting over your skin, the air warm against the places it made contact. It was almost as if his hands were hovering over you, but not quite touching. Not yet anyway.
He let out a low chuckle, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. “Lovely. It’s a pity I don’t get to see you like this more often.” He let his hand gently trail down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
You laughed slightly, the sound almost bitter. “You can’t keep trying to capture me. I’m starting to think this is less about some evil plan and more because you’re lonely.”
He shook his head, grinning at you, even if you couldn’t see. “Lonely? No.” He moved his hand to trail down your chest, moving painfully slowly as he stopped just above your waistline. “You just look so beautiful tied up for me, and it’s hard to resist seeing,” he mused, and his body just felt closer to yours.
The words made you blush, and everything in you wanted to hide yourself, but that was literally impossible at the moment. The best you could do was turn your head to the side, as if that made any difference. But soon you felt his strong hand on your jaw, pulling your face back to him.
“Oh, don’t start with this now, darling,” he sighed. “You know I don’t like it when you look away.”
“I can’t even see you, so what difference does it make?” you snapped, and you knew that would probably get you in trouble, but you were feeling ballsy. Even if you were tied and couldn’t move, but that goes under the rug.
“Oh, so you want to talk back, do you?” he asked, laughing a little. His one hand moved and cupped your cheek, his fingers tracing your jaw line. “That just won’t do.” His touch disappeared, and you could hear his footsteps slowly circling to be behind you.
It felt like ages, but it was merely a few seconds. His body was just hovering centimeters from yours, but his presence was almost overwhelming. Your body shuddered, just waiting for him to touch you.
Your wish was finally granted, and his chest pressed into your back, his one arm snaking around your waist to pull you close against him. His other hand moved, but you couldn’t feel it.
That is, until a cool metal pressed against the skin of your throat, trailing just a little, but not enough to cut.
You swallowed, trying your best to hold your head up so that your skin wouldn’t get sliced from the blade. His hand around your waist gave a hard squeeze, stilling all of your motions.
“Now, don’t move, sweetheart,” he growled in your ear, making your breath hitch. “Because if you move, this will cut you, and I would hate to have to clean your pretty blood off the floor,” he added, his tongue flicking out to lick the shell of your ear for just a second. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
It took you a second to realize he wanted you to answer, but when his knee gently pushed the spot between your spread legs, you got the message.
“N-no sir,” you whispered, the words strangled as you tried not to move too much.
“I can’t hear you,” he taunted, knowing damn well that he could hear you loud and clear. The room echoed after all.
Damn him. “No sir,” you repeated, this time loud enough for it to echo for a second or two.
“That’s my good girl.” With that, he moved his hand to trail down the lashes you had on your back. The skin was still tender and sensitive, and your body spasmed for just a second each time he touched it. You grit your teeth, trying to still your motions, but the actions were involuntary. You just made sure to not move your head.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he whispered. He moved to place small kisses on each of the raised lines, inevitably moving the knife away from your throat. You took the chance to catch your breath, still trying not to flinch, otherwise he’d get angry.
He let his knife rest against your side, the cool metal pressing into your bare skin. He let it trail down to the backs of your thighs, occasionally leaving little nicks, enough for you to gasp each time.
“You like that?” he asked, his other hand traveling to your underwear line.
“M-maybe,” you answered, squirming just a touch at the contact. His hand traveled a little lower, making you gasp at the contact, attempting to lean into his hand some.
“I think we both know the answer to that one,” he said, letting his fingers travel where he wanted them to. Each touch made you whimper, desperate for more, wanting more of him. All of him.
You just whined, trying to press your body into his hand, but your chains made it hard to do that, and it was just you desperately pulling against them. He laughed, moving his hand away, making you groan with frustration.
“Be a big girl, use your words,” he teased, pressing a kiss into your shoulder. “Tell me what you want,” he ordered.
You sighed, shaking a little bit with the suspension. “P-please, I want you to touch me,” you started, your brain picking up speed as you just got desperate. “I want to feel you and I want you inside of me. Use your hands, use your knife, I don’t care,” you begged. “Please, daddy,” you added, knowing that it was his kryptonite, “make me feel good.”
Michael made a low sort of groan, moving his body back to push into you. “How could I say no when you ask so nicely?” he replied. He moved to position his head closer towards your neck, the spot where it meets your shoulder. You felt his teeth sinking into your flesh, making you cry out. He left a big bite mark, this one deep and you knew it wouldn’t heal for a while. You also knew it was only the first of many to come.
His hand moved back down to your underwear, pulling it a little. Considering he couldn’t pull it all the way down your legs, he used the knife to cut the fabric off, tossing the garment aside. Now, you were completely exposed and at his mercy.
“I’ve got you chained up, and I have you all to myself for hours,” he mused, his hand slowly creeping towards where you wanted it to be. “Are ready for me?”
“Yes sir,” you answered, your body clenching as you just waited.
“Good girl,” he said, and then he finally gave you the contact you’d been desperate for, causing you to moan and you could hear it echo through the room, back to your own ears.
He really did spend hours in there with you, taking absolutely no breaks. This man would keep you on edge for god knows how long, and then he’d blow your brains out. Your chest heaved, your nipples red and swollen, your body so far past exhaustion that you were sure you were headed to delirium. At some point, the blindfold had been pulled off, and you could see it on the floor somewhere. You could feel the combined juices running down your legs and dripping to the floor below you. There were a few blood droplets, too, and you had some new scars to add to your little collection, along with more hickeys that littered your body and bruises from grips that were just a little too hard.
The sound of both of your breathing filled the room, and you tried desperately to keep your eyes open, but you could feel sleep trying to overtake you. You were expecting that your wrists and ankles would soon be freed, but that wasn’t happening. You could hear Michael dressing, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him.
“Are you going to let me down?” you panted, completely spent. Even if he did let you down, you had no clue if you even had the energy to walk all the way back to your room, let alone get dressed.
“You need help getting down?” he asked, as if he didn’t realize you couldn’t free yourself.
“Well, duh,” you said, shaking your chains a little bit.
He walked over in front of you, grabbing your face and tipping your chin so that you were looking at him, and he pulled you in for a kiss. When he pulled away, he let go, smirking a little. “I’m sorry, darling, but I can’t. I have some business to attend to upstairs.” He started to walk away, stopping after a second. “Who knows? Maybe Mrs. Mead will find you and get you down. Or I’ll come back before she can,” he suggested.
“Wait, wait, you can’t just-“ but he was already gone, his footsteps receding down the hallway.
You yelled, screamed, but your voice was already hoarse from earlier. You tried desperately to wiggle free from the chains, but it was just as useless as before. You hung your head, your eyes just happening to see the little puddle of fluids on the floor, and you sighed.
That meant that someone else was going to have to find you like this, and the thought sent a flush of embarrassment to your face. But you didn’t have too much time to worry about that now, because you were falling asleep. You closed your eyes, and sleep overtook you. While you slept, you were left there, just waiting for someone to come find you and maybe help clean you up, and maybe walk, because damn were you sore.
