mia

[thetruemia]

𝒹e jolis mots pour dé jolies personnes ⊹ s!her taurus-baby

afro-latina requests/asks always open!

MICHAEL JACKSON

۶ৎ learning you +18

۶ৎ before you say I do

۶ৎ leave you alone

۶ৎ letting go of a grudge +18

[thetruemia]

you were too busy riding the man beneath you.

michael laid down, head pressed back against the mattress as you straddled him. sweat beads clung to his forehead, sliding down his temples and along his sharp jaw. his big hands were anchored firmly on your hips, his thumbs digging into your skin as you worked above him. you leaned back, your palms flat against his thighs, and you moved your body up and down on his length with a slow, deliberate grace, tilting your head back as you let out a ragged, intoxicating sound of pure pleasure.

michael had come to your house just for the night, wanting nothing more than to be by your side, to talk, to cuddle, and to love up on his sweet girlfriend. but one thing led to another, and the air between you had turned thick and heavy, suddenly you were kissing him hungrily, begging him, even after he had repeatedly told you he couldn’t, not while your parents were awake, watching tv downstairs. he couldn’t do it; his sweet, anxious soul couldn’t bear the idea of your parents finding out about your passionate lovemaking. he kept his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw set, convinced that if they heard even a single creak of the bedframe, he would be so mortified he would simply die.

but he couldn’t resist you, not when your hands kept moving over his bulge, not when you were gripping him through his pants, making it impossible to rebel against the idea of making love, right there and now.

so here you were, on top of michael, wringing out every possible whimper, moan, and groan from his throat. he tried to stay quiet, for the sake of the innocent souls of your parents downstairs, but he truly, and sincerely, couldn’t contain the sounds of his pleasure. he bit down hard on his own lip, his teeth grazing the skin until it stung, trying to swallow the noises that threatened to give you both away.

“baby,” he whimpered, his voice cracking and breaking under the weight of his own desire. he hissed through his teeth as you moved faster on top of him, his eyes glassing over, his vision becoming flashes of hot white as his hands trembled against your waist. his head tossed from side to side on the pillows, his hair damp and messy, and every time you bucked up against him, a low, guttural sound escaped his chest that he couldn’t fight back. he was lost, completely consumed by the way you were breaking him down, his own fear of being caught finally dissolving into the overwhelming intensity of your touch.

“michael, oh baby.” you groaned.

“fuck.”

you were just as lost in pleasure as he was, your own teeth sinking into your lip to keep your voice low, letting out soft, ragged puffs and groans into the stagnant air of the bedroom.

and then you stopped moving.

michael swallowed hard, the sudden stillness creating a void that felt almost painful against the frantic rhythm he’d been craving. his eyebrows creased in confusion as he peered up at you, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure while you halted your momentum on top of him.

“mama, why’d you—“

his question died in his throat, replaced by a sharp, shaky intake of air as you suddenly began to roll your hips against his. you weren't moving up and down anymore, instead, you were grinding, making tight, warm, circular motions that frictioned every sensitive nerve he had. his eyebrow twitched, his entire frame shuddering as, for a second, his eyes rolled back into his head. the shift in your posture caused him to slide even deeper inside of you, and you took him, all of him, with a greedy, possessive grace.

as you continued those agonizing, slow rolls, you reached down and took hold of his large hand. you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, guiding his index and middle fingers toward your lips. you teased him, pulling his digits into your mouth and swirling your hot, wet tongue around his fingertips, watching his expression shatter into pure, unadulterated need. he was trembling beneath you, completely undone by the intimacy of the act, his restraint finally, irrevocably, shattered.

michael could’ve cummed right there.

at the sight of you on top of him, in complete control, riding him like you were born to do it, like he was born for this moment, born to be inside of you, like you were made for him. simply put, the feeling of your tongue on his fingertips overwhelmed his senses. he couldn’t bear to look, feeling as if he were defying god just by witnessing such an obscene, beautiful sight.

“oh god..”

the pleasure was becoming unbearable, in all of the right ways. michael momentarily cursed under his breath, quickly asking for forgiveness as he lolled his head back, eyes fluttering shut. his brain began to cloud over, he couldn’t think anymore, and he’d forgotten how to breathe correctly. he was hiccuping now, his whimpers raw, whiny, and mixed with desperate, jagged breaths.

you could feel michael twitch deep inside of you, with a heavy heat pooling into your stomach, forming a tight, pulsing knot. your face tightened, eyes glossing over in pure pleasure as your knees started to tremble against the mattress.

you began to roll your hips faster, desperate to chase that overwhelming, jagged edge of sensation. the bed frame started to creak rhythmically under your combined weight, and you transitioned into moving up and down, michael letting out a guttural, shaken groan every time your hips slammed down and connected with his.

and as michael kept hitting that same spot over and over, your jaw clenched, and you felt the hot knot in your stomach snap, michaels legs shook beneath you, a train of ‘please’s’ escaping his lips. he was utterly, totally fucked out that he couldn’t even control the sounds of words that had left his lips.

you simply worked him into overtime.

and as you looked down, the breath was snatched from your lungs.

michael, was crying.

not just eyes glossed over, he was genuinely sobbing, tears dribbling hot and fast down his cheeks. his chin trembled uncontrollably, his eyebrows knitted together in an expression of sheer, overwhelming intensity. he didn't know what to do with his hands, his fingers just clutching at the meat of your hips as if holding on for dear life. soft, broken puffs of air escaped his trembling lips, and sometimes, you couldn't even tell the difference between his heavy, rhythmic moans and the high, puppy-like whines that slipped out.

his eyes were so big, dark brown, and blown wide to the point of complete, hazy bliss. his body rolled in waves of violent trembles as he tried, and failed, to regulate his own ragged breathing. you had tainted his poor, innocent soul, and he knew it, he knew he had sinned, that he had finally, completely given in to the fruit of lust.

he looked up at you with such raw, unmasked vulnerability, his chest heaving with every sob. his internal conflict was written all over his face, a mixture of guilt and absolute, earth-shattering ecstasy. but even through the tears, even through the shame he felt for the act, god knows he would do anything to have you ride him like that again. he was yours, body and soul, surrendered to the pleasure you drew from him, completely undone by the weight of how much he loved you.

[thetruemia]

no way I just hit 100 followers. I literally love every single last one of you’s 🥹 I love tumblr, and I love writing and sharing my ideas with you guys and I really appreciate those that love them. in honor of my 100, I’ll be doing a double post. I’ll be releasing a sub!michael spicy ff soon.

I literally love all of you guys. mwa

[thetruemia]

michael had been holding a grudge.

it was entirely out of character for him. in all the time you’d been dating, and throughout the entire duration of your friendship before that, michael had never been the jealous type. he certainly wasn't one to hold onto resentment for long. he was the definition of understanding. he always handled conflict with a rare, quiet maturity, remaining patient and fiercely loving with you, even when things got difficult.

ever since yesterday, when you attended that studio session with him, the shift had been palpable. while he was trapped inside the recording booth, focused on the tracks with quincy and forced to play the part of a polite host to a room full of strangers, you had retreated to the far back. you’d spent the entire session giving your undivided attention to some man, someone michael didn't know, didn't recognize, and frankly, didn't care to learn the name of.

the sting of it had started long before that, though. you had been distant from the moment you woke up, offering him no kisses, no soft touches, not even a trace of the affection that usually acted as the glue between you two. watching you pour that warmth into a stranger while he stood behind the glass, hungry for even a glance from you, had been agonizing. it gnawed at him, turning his patience into something sharp and cold.

the moment you arrived home, he hadn't said a word. he had moved through the house in a stiff, controlled silence, wasting no time in the shower before dressing and abandoning the bedroom entirely.

now, he stood in the kitchen, the moonlight filtering through the window and catching the pale rim of his glass. he poured himself a drink of orange juice, his movements deliberate and quiet, the empty space beside you in bed, the space that should have been occupied by him, felt like an absolute void.

you sat perched on a barstool by the island, lips pressed into a thin, anxious line. your manicured fingers danced and swirled against each other, a nervous fidget you couldn't suppress as you searched for the right words, anything to thaw the ice radiating from him.

“michael.” you spoke, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes fixed on the rigid set of his shoulders.

“hm?”

he didn't bother to turn around. the only response was the steady, clinical sound of orange juice pouring into the glass, the liquid hitting the bottom with a hollow chime that only deepened the silence between you.

you inhaled, a slow, shaky breath that did nothing to settle your nerves.

“are you upset?” you asked. finally, he moved, shifting so his lower back rested against the counter. one arm remained folded tightly across his chest, acting as a barricade, while he brought the glass to his lips.

“what would i need to be upset about?” he countered. his voice was so flat, so utterly devoid of his usual warmth, that it made your chest physically ache.

“you’ve just… been off lately,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone steady. “you haven’t spoken a word to me since we got home.”

“have I?”

“michael.” you said, your voice gaining a touch of sternness, your head drifting to the side in genuine confusion. you were baffled. in the history of your relationship, you were rarely the one at fault. you took care, you were mindful, and you had never done anything to warrant this kind of distance. the disconnect felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, and it was starting to make you feel like you were losing your footing in your own home.

he knew you were confused. it was written in the genuine furrow of your brows and the way your eyes searched his, looking for an answer you truly couldn't find. he could see it, but he also knew that you needed to learn. there were boundaries, and sometimes, even you could be in the wrong.

“did i do something?” you questioned, your brows knitting together in that familiar, heart-tugging way. “can you tell me if i did? i want to know what’s bothering you.”

“yeah.” he sighed, the weight of the day finally audible in his voice as he set his glass down on the counter. “all day, you haven’t shown me any affection. at first, i thought i’d done something to upset you, but then we got to the studio, and instead of being with me, you were off roaming around, wrapped up in a conversation with some guy.” his tone was stern, but it remained laced with that gentle, underlying ache that was uniquely his.

you folded your lips into a thin, tight line, letting out a soft, defeated sigh.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t think i’d done anything wrong, i was just talking to him,” you gestured, your voice small. he shook his head, turning his back to you again as if the sight of you was too much to bear.

“nothing you do is wrong in your eyes.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart crack. you slowly pushed away from the island, stepping up behind him. you reached out, grabbing his arm with a gentle, tentative grip, and turned him around to face you.

you peered up at him, your eyes beginning to glaze over. “okay, i’m sorry,” you whispered. he looked down at you, the hard set of his jaw finally beginning to soften as your hands slid down to hold onto his wrists.

“i shouldn’t have done that. i should’ve been with you,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly. “that wasn’t a smart move, and your feelings are valid for the way i acted.”

he inhaled faintly, the tension in his shoulders finally dropping as he exhaled. his palms came up to rest firmly on the sides of your waist, anchoring you to him.

“they are valid.”

“i know.” you frowned, your heart still stinging but the distance between you beginning to close. you reached up, cupping his face in your palms and leaning in to press a gentle, apologetic kiss to his cheek.

you lingered there for a moment, letting the warmth of his skin ground you.

“how can I make it up to you?”

but michael had other ideas entirely, and he was intent on making sure you forgot every other man in that room by the time the night was over. his way of "making it up" to him was a relentless, consuming reclamation of your attention.

he had you positioned on the bed, your legs pulled back and held firmly in his hands, his grip tight behind your knees as he kept you trapped in the center of his focus. the world had shrunk down to the friction, the heat, and the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. your chest was heaving, your body trembling and shivering uncontrollably under his deliberate movements, your hair a chaotic halo spread across the sheets.

you were so far gone, so completely blissed out, that your hands fluttered up to hide your face, a shy, instinctive reflex to keep him from seeing just how undone you really were. but michael didn't look away, he watched every twitch, every shiver, as he wrung the fourth orgasm out of you, his own movements steady and demanding.

your mind was a white-hot blur, stripped of any ability to form a coherent thought, let alone keep track of the passing time. your moans were no longer rhythmic or polite, they were raw, whiny, and wrenched from the very depths of your soul. your throat began to ache, turning raspy and hoarse from the intensity of the sounds you couldn't suppress. feeling a sudden, burning wave of embarrassment at the sheer hunger of the lovemaking, you shakily brought your hand up to your mouth, pressing your palm against your lips to muffle the sounds that were still spilling out of you.

whenever you tried to muffle yourself, michael’s pace only quickened, his hips angling with a precision that was almost cruel in how perfectly it found that spot deep inside you. your toes curled against the sheets, the knot in your abdomen tightening into a searing, white-hot ache that threatened to blind you, flashing bright spots across your vision.

“i know you got one more in you,” he murmured, his voice thick, gruff, and vibrating against your skin.

“do it for me, baby.”

he reached down, his long, slender fingers finding you with devastating accuracy. he began to trace slow, tender, agonizingly gentle circles over your overstimulated, hypersensitive center. the contrast of his rough, deep thrusts, measured and slow, against the feather-light touch of his fingers was sensory overload. every movement sent jagged, electric shocks coursing through your entire body, making your thighs clamp down around him, desperate to keep him exactly where he was. you were completely at his mercy, his rhythm dictating every gasping breath you took as he pushed you further, refusing to let you escape the intensity of the moment.

and you did. in fact, you had three more, each one shattering the last shred of your composure until you were nothing but a puddle of gasps and blurred senses beneath him.

but the moment the final wave crashed over you, the tension that had been clinging to the room evaporated. somewhere in the haze of that relentless, hungry lovemaking, michael had simply forgotten why he was angry in the first place. the grudge, which had felt like a mountain earlier that evening, had been dismantled, replaced by the heavy, sweet exhaustion of being completely and utterly his.

[thetruemia]

you were fed up.

fed up wasn’t even the word anymore. you were jaded, deeply exhausted, and completely exasperated with michael. the constant, suffocating weight of his absence had settled into your bones, turning what used to be patient understanding into a cold, lingering resentment.

at the beginning of your relationship, things had flowed so smoothly. michael was incredibly sweet to you, the absolute epitome of a gentleman. his soul radiated a rare, pure joy and a gentle warmth that practically cast a spell over everyone he met, and that genuine innocence was what truly gravitated you toward him in the first place. even though he was a global pop star navigating a level of fame that felt entirely alien to you, you knew from the very start that his world was packed with demanding schedules, endless studio sessions, and pressures you couldn't completely comprehend. but even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, that man had always put in the time and effort for you. he used to make you feel like his only priority, anchoring you with soft late-night phone calls and spontaneous, quiet moments away from the flashing cameras.

but now, as time progressed, your relationship with the singer became incredibly rocky. you guys weren't publicly known for dating, a deliberate choice that was supposed to protect your privacy but had instead turned into a slow-burning psychological torture. because you were kept hidden away in the shadows, the vacuum of information was filled by a relentless media machine. rumors conspired quickly between him and other famous women in the industry, including his prominent exes.

every morning felt like a gamble with your own sanity. you would walk downstairs only to find the newspapers splashed with agonizing pictures. there would be high-definition photographs displayed across the front pages with michael facing another gorgeous woman, playfully touching her arm, or laughing directly in her face with that dazzling, intimate smile you thought belonged only to you. the tabloids ran with ridiculous, sensationalized titles that tore at your confidence and forced you to question the entire validity of your relationship.

it was the public intimacy that hurt the most. while you were confined to the quiet security of his private estates, the rest of the world got to see him being charming, attentive, and physically affectionate with women who fit the pop-star narrative perfectly. even if your rational mind told you it was just industry networking or harmless publicity, your heart couldn't block out the constant noise. every headline felt like a subtle mockery of your hidden status, making you wonder if he was hiding you to protect you, or if he was simply keeping his options open while you waited faithfully at home.

of course, you had brought it to michaels attention, desperately seeking a lifeline to pull you out of your own head. but whenever you confronted him, he would wrap you in his familiar, soothing warmth and reassure you with that soft, pleading voice. he told you that the media is just gonna say what they want just to make a coin, that they're lying, and that he has absolutely no romantic interest in the women he would be paired with in the papers. for a moment, looking into his eyes, you wanted so badly to believe him. you wanted his words to be enough to quiet the storm inside you.

but then, things started to get severe.

the fragile peace he offered couldn't hold up against the sheer weight of the media onslaught, and the rumors started getting worse. the tabloids grew bolder, more vicious, and increasingly specific. at first it was with diana ross. the paper was suddenly flooded with pictures of them together. him smiling brightly in her face, completely unbothered by the cameras, while she was touching and caressing his arm with an undeniable, seasoned intimacy.

as your eyes scanned over the headlines, something in your soul felt so irked. it wasn't just a random starlet anymore; this was diana, a woman who held a massive, legendary piece of his heart and history. seeing the physical contact printed in ink, the effortless closeness that you were forced to deny yourself in public, triggered a visceral wave of nausea. the reassurance he had given you felt paper-thin, completely shredded by the look of pure adoration on his face in those photographs, and the sinking realization hit you that his excuses were no longer enough to stop your heart from breaking.

“MICHAELS SECRET LOVE: WHY HE CANT KET DIANA GO.”

“IS DIANA ROSS THE TRUE LOVE OF MICHAELS LIFE?”

“CLOSEST CONFIDANTE OR SECRET ROMANCE?”

you ripped the paper to shreds, your hands trembling with a sudden, sharp burst of fury as the fragile newsprint tore apart under your fingernails. you quickly threw the mangled pieces deep into your garbage can, desperate to banish those images of him and diana from your sight, as if destroying the physical paper could somehow erase the toxic doubt blooming in your chest. you stood over the trash, chest heaving, trying to breathe through the suffocating knot in your throat and convincing yourself that you were done letting fictional headlines dictate your peace of mind.

but more came, and the universe seemed determined to prove that your nightmare was only just beginning. this time, it was brooke shields.

the next wave of tabloids hit with a deafening roar, and this time, the images felt like a physical blow to the stomach. brooke was young, stunningly beautiful, and possessed a pristine, hollywood elegance that the media absolutely devoured. the front pages showed them everywhere together. glitzy red carpets, intimate after-parties, and quiet car rides where they leaned in close to whisper to one another. the headlines practically screamed about a budding, picture-perfect romance between the world’s biggest pop star and the ultimate turning-heads starlet, completely erasing your existence with every bold font and sensationalized paragraph. seeing him with her, looking so effortlessly matched in the public eye while you remained hidden behind closed blinds, made something shift inside you. the anger from before dissolved into a cold, paralyzing dread.

“MICHAEL & BROOKE: HOLLYWOOD’S HOTTEST MAYBE COUPLE?”

“AMERICA’S SWEETHEART AND THE KING OF POP!”

“HOLLYWOODS GOLDEN PAIR?”

you’ve grown sick of it. absolutely sick. the endless loop of the same empty excuses spun around in your head until it made you dizzy with anger. you’ve called michael to address the situation too many times to count, pouring your heart out over the static of a long-distance line, and all he could ever muster up was a dismissive, soft ‘stop reading the articles, baby’ or a hurried ‘I can make it up to you, i promise.’ those gentle terms of endearment, which used to make your heart melt, now just felt like a cheap band-aid over a gaping wound, a tactical way to hush you up until his next press conference.

and eventually, after that thin line of patience finally snapped, after having long, agonizing nights spent thinking about your decision in the quiet dark of an empty bed, you wanted to drop michael, completely. he was just too flirty, maintaining what felt like a endless roster of beautiful, famous women while you were sitting home alone, being fiercely, quietly loyal to a man who didn’t even consider you outside of his private life. he got to live a double life, enjoying the thrill of the spotlight and the company of hollywood icons, only to come back to your unconditional love whenever it was convenient for him.

it didn’t feel fair. it was a twisted, one-sided dynamic that was slowly eroding your self-worth. you shouldn’t have to live under constant, suffocating stress, constantly feeling like you were competing with gorgeous women who didn’t even know you exist. you were fighting an invisible war against ghosts and media darlings, and michael was letting you drown in it just to protect his carefully crafted image. you deserved to be loved out loud, not kept like a dirty secret hidden behind drawn curtains.

and the moment you told him, he begged on the other line, like how he always did. you could hear the immediate shift in his demeanor, the smooth, confident pop star vanishing to reveal a panicked, desperate man.

“no—michael, no. i’m done.” you finalized, sighing as you rested a hand on your hip, trying to steel yourself against the familiar ache of his pleading tone.

“baby, no. please, cmon. this is so unfair and you know it. you can’t just throw us away over nothin.”

“no, michael,” you countered, your voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “what’s unfair is that i’m sitting at home, waiting for you everyday while your out there doing god-knows-what with everyone else.”

“you know that’s not true,” he rushed out, his words tumbling over one another. “what did i tell you baby? stop reading those stupid tabloids. they don't know me. they don't know us.” there was a brief pause, a heavy silence over the line before he whispered the ultimate hook, the line he always used to disarm you.

“you trust me, don’t you?”

but you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you. you turned around to lean against the cold wall of your home, letting out sarcastic huffs that felt more like choked-back tears. you raised up a hand, waving it at the empty room as if dismissing his ghost right then and there.

“i’m done michael. please do this for me for once and leave me alone.”

“baby—“

but you hung up, placing the phone back into its holder with a final, decisive click that severed the connection completely. your chest was rising up and down rapidly, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared at the plastic receiver for a long, heavy moment. it felt like a monument to all the hours you had wasted waiting for it to ring. rolling your eyes at your own lingering hesitation, you turned on your heels and marched out of the room, making your way down to your kitchen.

you reached out for a bottle of champagne hidden in the back of your cabinet, a bottle that was originally meant for a celebration that michael had inevitably canceled. you quickly pulled it out, your hands trembling so violently that the glass clinked against the counter. with a sharp twist and a dull pop, you forced the cork out, barely even caring about the foam that threatened to spill over your knuckles.

fighting back tears, your chin was trembling uncontrollably as you shakily brought out a wine glass from the shelf. you poured the champagne into it with an unsteady hand, watching the golden liquid fizz up aggressively at the top, the tiny bubbles popping and bursting just like the illusions you had held onto for so long. you raised the glass to your lips, desperately needing something. anything, to numb the sharp, hollow ache opening up inside you.

you turned around, leaning your lower back against the cool marble counter as you brought up the glass to your glossed lips. shaking your head in pure disbelief at how things had ended, you stared into nothing as a couple of hot tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving wet tracks in their wake. you sipped some of the champagne, the cold burn of the alcohol stinging your throat, though you wished more than anything that it could ease the tight, suffocating lump forming there.

you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe one stubborn tear from your cheek, bitter resentment finally flaring up to replace the sadness.

“sorry ass excuse for a man.” you muttered to the empty kitchen, the words tasting like poison on your tongue.

and then, shattering the quiet house, you heard a sharp knock on your front door, followed immediately by the loud chime of the doorbell ringing and echoing throughout your entire home. you quickly sniffled, wiping away the fresh tears with your fingers as you hurriedly fixed your hair and adjusted your clothes in a desperate attempt to look composed. “coming!” you yelled out, your voice cracking slightly under the strain as you set the champagne glass down and made your way down the long hallway toward the front door.

as your hand touched the brass knob, you sighed heavily, swinging the door open, forcing a polite, detached smile.

“hello? how may I help y—“

but your sentence stopped right in your throat, the words dying instantly as the air left your lungs.

there he was, in all of his frustratingly, fine glory. michael stood tall in a jacket and jeans, looking so effortless that it made your chest ache with a sudden, vicious pang of longing. he was holding a massive, beautiful bouquet of flowers tightly against his chest, with a couple of small, glossy gift bags dangling from his other hand. and the look on his face, he looked deeply concerned, his dark eyes wide and searching, his eyebrows furrowed with genuine anxiety while his lips were turned into a slight, vulnerable pout.

but as his eyes settled on you, his eyes twinkled, widening with a sudden flash of hope, his lips forming into a soft, relieved smile before speaking.

“hey—“

but as quickly as you opened it, you slammed the door. the heavy wood clicked shut with a loud, definitive bang that echoed through the quiet foyer. your eyes were wide, your chest heaving up and down rapidly as you took a few cautious, trembling steps back from the door, as if he could somehow pass right through it. you stared at the solid wood, your hands curled into tight fists, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.

for a moment, it was total, suffocating silence. you held your breath, listening so intensely that the quietness itself felt loud. and then, through the thin gap at the bottom of the frame, you could hear the soft rustle of plastic and paper as the things in his hands were carefully placed down on the ground of the porch.

and then he knocked, a gentle, rhythmic tapping against the wood that sent vibrations straight to your core.

“can you open the door?” he asked, his voice muffled by the thick wood.

you stood frozen in the center of the foyer, your bare feet glued to the floor, not daring to move an inch.

“please?” he begged softly, the word stretched out with a familiar, childlike vulnerability that usually broke you in seconds.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone, michael.” you spoke, voice shaky.

it was a long, heavy moment of silence, the quietness stretching between you like a taut wire, before you heard him let out a deep, heavy exhale on the other side of the panel. you could picture him out there, running a hand through his curls, looking down at his shoes in absolute defeat.

you really considered leaving his sorry self outside, to stay in the cold night air, to let his guilt bubble up until he felt himself completely drowning in sorrow. you wanted him to sit on that porch and stew in the mess he created, letting karma come right around the corner to bite him in the behind for once. because at the end of the day, you had every right to feel the way you did. you had every right to feel like you weren’t being considered, weren't being taken seriously, and like your immense loyalty and feelings weren’t being reciprocated in the slightest. you had spent months swallowing your pride for the sake of his career, and you were completely justified in wanting him to feel even a fraction of the isolation you felt every single day.

“I know I messed up.”

“i know i haven’t been the best man to you lately,” he confessed, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with a raw sincerity that made your chest tighten. “i’ve been so caught up in the studio, so caught up with the cameras and the managers, that i haven’t been able to make it up to you properly. i’ve been selfish, baby.”

at the weight of your heavy silence, the quietness stretching between you like a fragile thread, he continued.

“i’m not gonna take no for an answer, girl. you know i cant leave you alone. i won't do it.”

you bit back a small smile, staring down at the polished hardwood floor. even in the middle of a breakup, when you were entirely justified in your anger, his unyielding persistence and that subtle, confident charm still had the power to disarm you. it was infuriating how well he knew you, and how easily he could melt the ice around your heart with just a few softly spoken words.

and it was true, michael couldn't leave you alone. to him, you were his baby, his love, his best friend, his everything. no matter how bright the stadium lights were, or how many thousands of screaming fans chanted his name, you were the only anchor that kept him grounded to reality. despite the toxic dynamic that had formed between you two over the months, with the constant cycle of breaking up and getting back together, it felt like the chaos just made you guys stronger in a strange, unbreakable way.

almost like the more you got sick of him, the more he wanted you. the moment you pulled away, his instinct to chase you kicked into overdrive, refusing to let the one pure thing in his life slip through his fingers. with every single argument that threatened to tear you apart, this man always came to your door with endless gifts, and endless apologies, willing to humble himself completely just to see you smile again. he would buy out entire boutiques and spend hours crafting the perfect words, proving that while he might belong to the world during the day, he belonged entirely to you at night.

“it’s either you open this door, be the beautiful, mature woman that you are and stop holding a grudge, or these flowers and expensive gifts are gonna get soaked. i swear someone said it was supposed to rain in ten—“

but you were already at the door, slowly cracking it open so that your tear-streaked face was visible through the narrow gap.

at seeing your appearance, michael’s eyes softened instantly, the playful, teasing tone dying in his throat. he took a step closer to the door, his heart sinking as you fully opened it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide behind the heavy wood.

“have you been crying?” he asked softly, his voice barely a breathy whisper.

you shook your head quickly, wiping your face with the back of your sleeve and sniffing softly. “no.”

he tilted his head to the side, rolling his eyes in amusement at your stubbornness. he gave you that silent 'girl' look, his eyebrows raised in perfect disbelief that you could even try to lie to him when the proof was written all over your face.

“mhm, and I’m broke.”

at that you giggled, and he smiled, stepping over the bouquets and gifts to step inside of the house. hovering over you, he placed both of his hands on the sides of your face, using the pads of his thumbs to swipe under your eyes.

“cmon, girl. your too pretty to cry.”

you stared up at him, swallowing the lump in your throat as you pressed your lips together, trying to stop the trembling of your chin, as your eyes glossed over. you felt a single tear escape, tracking hot down your skin before his thumb caught it.

“i mean it,” he whispered, his voice dropping into that deep, earnest register he only used when it was just the two of you. he leaned his forehead gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i hate seeing you like this. especially when it's because of me. i hate it so much.”

you wanted to pull away, to tell him that his sweet-talking couldn't erase the ache of the headlines, but the sheer weight of his presence was paralyzing. standing in the quiet foyer, wrapped in his scent and his undivided attention, the rest of the world, diana, brooke, the flashing cameras, and the gossip columns, seemed to just melt away into irrelevance. he was here, holding you like you were his entire universe, and the anger you had tightly clung to only minutes ago was slipping right through your fingers.

as more hot tears fell from your beautiful eyes, michael felt his heart crack inside. the sight of you completely broken down because of his lifestyle was a heavy blow, stripping away all of his usual playful charm and replacing it with a raw, aching guilt.

“baby.” he whispered, shaking his head in absolute distress. he leaned down, pressing tender, lingering kisses to your damp cheek, your shaky lips, and your temple, trying to absorb your sadness into his own skin. “don’t.“

as he parted from you slightly, his hands leaving your face, you sniffled, bringing up a hand to wipe your face of your salty tears. noticing the subtle shift in your posture, michael reached down to grab the beautiful bouquet of flowers and the heavy gifts he had left on the floor, presenting them to you like an offering of peace

“look.” he spoke, faintly smiling in a desperate attempt to cheer you up and bring back a glimmer of the smile he loved so much. “i even brought you your favorites.”

your eyes drifted down toward the bags, and you noticed the iconic CHANEL sign imprinted on the sleek black bag in bold white letters. right next to it was another bigger one branded by PRADA, and another luxurious, heavy box branded with a gold H in the middle of it, straight from hermès. even the massive bouquet in his arms was overflowing with perfectly bloomed, fragrant red roses, your absolute favorite.

you huffed, your mind spinning as conflicting emotions fought a violent war in your chest. you truly didn't know whether to spew words at him, to cuss him out senseless for trying to buy his way back into your good graces, or to cry even more at the sight of your favorite high-fashion brands all gathered in one hand of his, proving just how desperately he wanted to make it up to you

“i hate you.” you shook your head, laughing softly through your fading tears as you moved forward to embrace him. the anger that had felt so solid only minutes ago evaporated completely against the familiar warmth of his chest.

michael immediately let out a soft, breathy chuckle, carefully setting the heavy bouquet of flowers down on the foyer floor and dropping the designer bags right alongside them. he didn't care about the expensive silk or leather anymore; his hands were already moving to wrap his long arms tightly around your waist, pulling you so close against his body that there was no space left between you. he rested his chin in your soft hair, closing his eyes tightly as he let out a massive, trembling sigh of relief that shook his entire frame. the crushing anxiety that had gripped him on the drive over finally dissolved, replaced by the deep comfort of having you back where he needed you.

“love you more.” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion, his arms tightening around you as if he were trying to weld your souls together.

and now, it was official. the great michael jackson could never leave his precious girl alone.

[thetruemia]

you were getting married.

you had already signed for your precious marriage license, the official document tucked away safely as a reminder that everything was becoming real. one by one, reservations were made, the venue secured, the catering, arranged, every little detail falling into place just like how you wanted it. your days seemed to blur together with planning, phone calls, and endless checklists.

everywhere you went, you were met with warm embraces and excited smiles. congratulations and I’m so happy for you became words you heard almost daily, especially from your husband-to-be’s family, who welcomed you with open arms and treated you as though you had already been part of them for years. their excitement was contagious, making each passing day feel even more special than the last.

and then there was the dress. after countless appointments, racks upon racks of fabric, and more fitting rooms than you could keep track of, you found it. the one. the moment you stepped out wearing it, something in your heart simply knew. every delicate detail felt as though it had been made specifically for you, fitting perfectly in all the ways that mattered. not long after, you found the heels to match, complementing the picture you had imagined so many times in your head. for the first time, standing in front of the mirror, you could truly see it. the aisle, the vows, the ring on your finger, the look on your husbands face.

but marriage, for as long as you’ve known it, was love made tangible. a vow to stay when life got difficult and a promise to celebrate when life became beautiful. it was looking at one person and deciding that every tomorrow felt brighter with them in it. marriage was the weaving of two threads into one tapestry, different colors, different paths, yet impossible to separate without unraveling the whole.

you had everything you were supposed to want. a soon-to-be husband, a home, a future, but not the one person you had always pictured beside you.

you grew up in indiana with michael, back when you were just the kids next door. you still remember the sharp clink of pebbles against your window glass late at night. he would stand below in the dark, begging you to slip outside so he could show you the stars at the perfect hour. when it was time for him to leave, he held your small hands in his, gently wiping away your tears. he promised he would come back for you, and you believed him.

and he kept that promise. through every step of his rising career, from the early rush of the jackson 5 to the explosive release of off the wall, michael always rushed right back to you to celebrate. he would show up at your door, holding fresh flowers for you and your mother, stepping into your home with a familiar warmth. late at night, your bedroom became a sanctuary where he could finally unwind. he would talk for hours about events, his dreams, and the eccentricities of his life, like the pet giraffe and the llama he walked down the street. on the nights the road kept him away, he would call and stay on the line until dawn. he talked until his voice grew tired, while you just sat in the dark, happily listening and twisting the tangled telephone cord between your fingers.

you were michaels ultimate escape from the pressure. through the brutal days of pushing his body to the limit, the endless rehearsals, and the strained vocal sessions, it all became bearable because of you. he kept going because he knew you were out there watching and cheering him on from afar. no matter how exhausting the world became, his only real comfort was knowing that at the end of it all, he was coming home to your face.

you were his reason, his why for everything he did. and slowly but surely, in the quiet spaces between the chaos, michael realized he was falling deeply in love with you.

it all became clear the day he visited you again, tangled up together in your bedroom. that was the night you shared your first kiss, the night you finally gave yourselves to each other and became whole. from that moment on, michael knew he could never leave you behind. he stayed glued to your hip, holding onto you tightly, completely unwilling to ever let you go.

but slowly, michaels promises began to ring hollow. his world grew heavier, swallowed by touring, endless promotions, and the crushing weight of being a global superstar. there simply weren't enough hours in his day anymore. the midnight phone calls faded into silence, and the surprise visits stopped. on your nightstand, the vibrant flowers he used to bring began to wither and droop, shedding dry petals until he eventually stopped showing up altogether.

the harsh reality finally struck you: he had moved on. to him, what you shared was just a childish crush, a sweet phase of his youth that he was completely willing to leave behind in the past.

and you did too. you forced yourself to move forward, but he still lingered in the corners of your mind, every single day. your life felt so bland now that you were committed to someone else. knowing you were supposed to spend eternity with another person felt like a quiet betrayal of those late-night whispers in your bedroom. all those futures you had dreamed up with michael had to be buried, forcing you onto a completely new path in life.

but you honestly didn’t want to.

you didn't want to let him go. your mother was the one who finally convinced you as you broke down, crying bitterly in her arms. she held you tightly, shushing your heavy sobs and whispering into your hair that it was all for the better. she swore it was the only way to save you from waiting for a ghost.

and even now, the reality of it heavy in your chest, you stood directly in front of your husband on your wedding day. you were inside a church, a quiet house of god, with the pews packed to the brim behind you with the familiar faces of family and friends. your sheer veil had already been tossed back over your shoulders, framing your expertly glammed makeup and the perfect curls cascading down your spine. the dress was everything you had ever dreamed of, fitting flawlessly just like you planned. your husband stood close, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours, never letting go now that you had both finished pouring out your vows.

but yet, everything felt so hollow. it felt like you were just a little girl playing dress-up in clothes that didn't belong to you. everything about this moment felt entirely wrong, twisting your stomach into tight, sickening knots.

“do you, take her to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, remain faithful to her so long as you both shall live?” the officiant’s voice echoed through the church.

your eyes lifted slowly, watching your husband nod. his eyes glossed over with tears as his grip on your hands tightened, pulling you just a fraction closer. “I do,” he spoke.

“do you, take him to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, remain faithful to him so long as you both shall live?”

you froze the exact second the question was turned on you.

paralyzed as the weight of the question crashed over your shoulders. the officiant’s words rang out like a death knell in your ears, but instead of focusing on the man in front of you, you kept your eyes glued to the ground. the white fabric of your gown blurred in your vision. everything inside you screamed that this was a mistake; it didn’t feel right, and it shouldn’t be him receiving your forever. you didn’t want it to be him, you wanted the boy from indiana who used to throw rocks at your window. a heavy sob caught in your throat, making your chin tremble. you bit your bottom lip, the iron taste of panic sharp on your tongue as you fought a losing battle against your tears.

“I—“

“will you?”

at the sudden sound of a voice, you whipped around. a wave of shock rippled through the pews as the entire crowd erupted into a chamber of loud, horrified gasps. your heart didn't just skip a beat, it dropped completely into your stomach at the sight of the familiar figure standing right in the middle of the aisle. there he was, dressed in a sharp, tailored beige suit that clung to his frame. his face was a raw canvas of desperation, his eyes locking onto yours with a pleading intensity that instantly shattered the sanctity of the church.

michael.

he continued walking down the aisle, his boots clicking softly against the wood as he called your name, the sound barely above a whisper. yet, it cut through the shocked murmurs of the crowd like a knife. his eyes never drifted from yours, each step heavy with the weight of years spent apart.

“sir,” the officiant spoke. “you shouldn’t be here—“

“Ive loved you ever since we were kids,” michael spoke, his voice cracking with the sheer weight of his confession. a groomsmen stepped forward, reaching out to intervene, but michael violently shrugged the man’s hand off his shoulder, never breaking eye contact with you. he pointed a trembling finger at his own chest, his eyes wide and begging. “and if you’ll have me—”

“I want you to be my wife,” he declared, the words ringing like an absolute truth through the sacred space. you watched with glossed-over eyes as the shock in the room shattered into pure chaos. several groomsmen lunged forward, grabbing roughly at michaels tailored suit, pulling and holding him back as he fought against their grip just to stay facing you.

“what the hell are you doing?” your husband barked.

“I’m sorry, I love her!” michael screamed back, his voice straining as his limbs were being pulled back. he violently struggled against the heavy weight of the men forcing him toward the doors, but he didn’t let up for a single second. through the chaos of flailing arms, he managed to lift his head, his frantic eyes locking completely onto your own.

“will you have me as your lawfully wedded husband from this day forth, to have and to hold? in richer, for poorer!”

you could feel the air leave your lungs, the suffocating noise of the church suddenly fading away. in an instant, your mind pulled you backward in time, bringing you right back to those quiet nights in your childhood bedroom. you were laying down side by side, facing michael in the dark. he would brush a stray lock of hair from your face while you peered up at him. he looked back down at you with nothing but pure love and admiration melting in his gaze, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he slowly leaned in to kiss your plush ones.

“one day, I’m gonna marry you.”

but the memory shattered as reality rushed back. you couldn’t believe his words, and you certainly couldn’t believe that this was the way he would do it. waiting until you were standing at the altar, in the absolute middle of you getting married to another man.

“baby, please!”

but seeing his face now, hearing the raw desperation in his voice, it all took you back anyway. it dragged you right back to the days where he would show up at your doorstep every other day with fresh flowers in his hands. the days where he would still pull you out into the dark to watch the stars when they shined their brightest. the days that he would take you out, promising to bring you back home safe and sound before 10. you remembered him sitting on your bedroom floor, playing his unreleased music just to hear your opinion, making sure the song was absolutely perfect coming out of your mouth. the days where he would kiss you senseless until your brain turned to complete mush, and those sweet, ridiculous nights where you would stay up until dawn, talking about how you were going to get married and how you were going to have eighteen kids together.

the truth crashed over you, and it all came back in a rush of realization. over those long, miserable years, michael had never actually vanished. he was always there, keeping his promises in secret. he was the ghost throwing those faint rocks at your window late at night when you felt the most alone. he was the anonymous soul sending flowers to your door, accompanied by mysterious, unsigned notes. you finally understood why those silent, suited men used to arrive at your house with heavy packages, flooding your pantries with food, stacking your closet with clothes, and filling your room with stuffed toys. he had been taking care of you all along.

you felt the room spin as the realization hit you like a physical blow. in reality, michael hadn't abandoned you at all. it was you who pushed him away. you were the one who let the doubt creep in, assuming he had forgotten your face and moved on with his glamorous life. you were the one who started to think he was too high in power, too consumed by his pop star life, and ultimately too good to ever love a woman like you.

your body moved completely involuntarily, as if an invisible thread was pulling you straight toward him. you slowly began to walk down the altar steps, your cold hand sliding out of your husband’s tight grip without a second thought. as the distance between you and michael began to shrink, the tears blurred your vision, and your lips slowly curled up into a genuine, breathless smile for the first time all day.

“I do.”

[thetruemia]

“michael.”

you softly whispered, your voice wavering slightly as your palms pressed flat against the singer’s broad chest. michael was softly, gently planting a line of warm kisses down the side of your neck, causing a quiet giggle to escape your throat at the ticklish touch, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart hammered furiously against your ribs as if it were trying to claw its way right out of your chest.

you had been dating the singer for about a year now. despite his fame and the constant demands of shows, tours, and recording, you and michael had built a healthy, steady relationship. no matter how busy life became, he always found his way back to you and made time for the people he loved. and on the rare occasions he couldn’t, you understood, because michael had a life of his own, and so did you.

your relationship wasn’t public, nor was it widely known. sure, michael had been spotted with you a couple of times. once while taking you out to dinner, and another at the fair, where he proudly handed you the biggest giraffe plushie on the shelf. but aside from that, people didn’t really know your name, or who you were. and michael made sure of it. not because he wanted to hide you, gods, no. if he could, he would show you off to the entire world. but to him, it was about your safety, protecting your privacy and the innocence of a life untouched by fame. because if there was anyone who understood how quickly the public could invade and take those things away, it was michael.

and after a long, exhausting day of rehearsing, singing, and dancing, michael couldn’t wait to see your face again. to hear your voice, catch the familiar scent of your perfume, and be reminded of the comfort that came with your presence. if he was being honest, he’d missed you all day. maybe more than he cared to admit. so later that night, back at the hayvenhurst estate, freshly showered and dressed in a robe loosely tied at his waist, he sat by the telephone, absentmindedly twisting the cord around his fingers. it didn’t take long for him to give in. bringing the receiver to his ear, he dialed your number and asked if you’d come over.

and you did, you always did.

and when you arrived, he simply couldn’t take his hands off you.

“missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft as his lips brushed against your skin. the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and despite yourself, a smile tugged at your lips. resting your palms against his bare chest, you gently pushed him back just enough to look at him. the sight of him made your smile widen, dark curls still damp from his shower, brown eyes fixed on yours as though he’d been waiting all day to see you.

“i missed you too,” you said softly, bringing your hands up to rest at the nape of his neck. your eyes lingered on the faint frown pulling at his lips, and your smile softened. even after all this time, you could always tell when the weight of the day was still sitting on his shoulders.

“but…” you trailed off, tilting your head to the side, “i think that michael jackson has had a long day and needs—“

“oh my gosh,” he groaned playfully, throwing his head back. a laugh immediately bubbled from your lips.

“…some rest.” you finished, bringing your hands down to his shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze.

michael sighed. “you are my rest, girl.”

you giggled at his comment. “really? I’m your rest? michael, your ridiculous.”

“I’m serious mama.”

you then rose onto your tiptoes, your hands coming up to cup his face as you pressed a quick peck to his frowning lips. “i’m serious,” you murmured. “really, michael. i can’t imagine how exhausted you are.” your tone softened, thumbs brushing gently over his skin. for a moment, he didn’t say anything. he simply leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a woman like you in his life.

the way you loved him, and weren’t afraid to show it, scared him a little. not because he couldn’t return it, but because he couldn’t quite believe that someone’s heart could hold that much warmth. your soul seemed to radiate it, quietly and constantly, like something impossible to dim. he saw it in the way you gently handled children during hospital visits with him, in the patience you gave to strangers, and in the way you moved through the world with a softness that never felt forced. your lips were almost always curved into a smile, revealing those bright, pearly whites, as if kindness was simply the way you existed. and you kept giving it, even to people who didn’t always deserve it.

perhaps, that’s how he fell in love with you.

not only did he see it in the way you cared for other people, but in the way you cared for him. you never failed to call and make sure he was okay, never failed to show up when he needed you most, never failed to meet him with a tenderness that made him pause every time. sometimes, he truly believed he didn’t deserve it.

having his childhood stripped away, cameras and microphones pushed into his face long before he could understand the weight of it all, the pressure had rested on michael’s shoulders since he was young. immense fame only made everyday interactions harder as he grew older; he was, at his core, quiet and introverted. while electrifying on stage, he remained guarded and profoundly shy in his personal life, as if the world beyond the spotlight always felt a little too loud, a little too close.

but the moment he met you, something in him changed. he changed.

you were like a spark ignited in the dark. his rock, his lover, his partner, his best friend. you were everything all at once, making even the hardest parts of life feel a little lighter. no matter how many long, relentless, exhausting days he had, they somehow felt worth it in the end.

because he always knew he could come home to you.

and he’s always felt the need to make up for the fact that you simply existed in his life. he would shower you with gifts, plan dates, give you his time, his attention. michael never failed to show his love in every way he knew how: financially, physically, emotionally. and yet, it still never felt like enough to him. it was as if nothing he did could ever truly match what you gave him so effortlessly. sometimes, he thought he would need to meet god himself just to say thank you for creating someone like you and bringing you into his life. and if he could, he would.

michael’s arms slid up from your waist, settling gently over your shoulders before coming to rest along your arms.

you fell quiet under the weight of his gaze. his eyes twinkled as they held yours, steady and soft. it was moments like these when he could effortlessly steal the breath from you, your heartbeat quickening as your knees threatened to give way beneath you, all from a single look. as if, in that moment, you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

you were slightly startled as you felt yourself being gently guided backward, your knees meeting the soft edge of his mattress. slowly, he led you to sit down, his hands steady and sure. and you did, settling onto the bed as his eyes never once left yours.

your eyebrows creased in quiet confusion as he reached for your hands, lifting them gently so your palms rested easily within his, larger, warmer, completely enveloping yours.

he let out a soft, breathy giggle at your expression, as if it amused him in the most tender way, before leaning in to press a kiss right between your brows. he inhaled slowly, exhaling through his nose as the warmth of his breath fanned across your face, and then he rested his forehead against yours.

“you know i love you so much,” he said softly.

the corners of your lips curled into a small smile, and you nodded, holding his gaze.

“i love you too, michael,” you said softly.

he nodded in return, a quiet understanding in his eyes, as his thumbs gently stroked the backs of your hands in slow, steady motions.

“i wanted tonight to be special,” he began, his voice softer now, almost careful.

“every night is special with you.”

he laughed at your words, head dipping shyly. “you always know what to say, huh?”

“but..” he began, staring down at your joined hands. “I’ve always felt like I haven’t been able to properly repay you for how good you’ve been to me.”

you shook your head, your brows knitting together as your lips pulled into a small frown. “what? no, michael. that’s ridiculous,” you said, letting out a humorless huff. “my love for you is priceless.”

at your words, michael’s eyes lifted to meet yours. “but tonight, right now,” he said softly, “i want to show you how much i love you.”

“not through gifts,” he added with a small huff, though a smile tugged at his lips. “not just through words. or kisses. or telling you over and over again like some kind of chant.” he let out a quiet laugh, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

but then his smile slowly faltered, the softness in his expression deepening into something more vulnerable. “will you let me show you?” he asked quietly.

you stood up, your expression softening as your hands slowly slipped from his. you lifted them again, gently cupping either side of his face, holding him as if he were something delicate and cherished. leaning in close, your lips hovered just barely against his.

“show me, michael.”

at that, his lips found yours in a slow, gentle rhythm that was entirely his own. your lips parted on instinct, welcoming the hot, sensual warmth of his tongue. he crossed his hands flat against your back, pulling you flush against his chest as you tangled your arms around his neck, a breathless giggle escaping into the kiss. he stepped forward, guiding you back until you sank into the soft mattress beneath you.

as he parted from you, leaving your lips flushed, bruised, and swollen, you almost winced at the sudden rush of cold air brushing against them. you were already aching for his warmth. he wasted no time before pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips trailing a path of burning heat from your jawline all the way down to the sensitive skin of your neck.

you brought your fingers up to tangle in his soft curls, letting out quiet, breathless sighs of contentment. his lips pressed hard against your neck, gently sucking on the sensitive flesh before soothing the growing heat with a gentle, comforting flick of his tongue.

once his lips traced down to the sharp edge of your collarbone, he broke the contact and came back up to meet your eyes. the raw, breathless look on your face made him completely fold.

your chest rose and fell with heavy breathing, your hair spilled out like a dark halo across the bed. your eyes softened, lowering into a gaze full of nothing but pure love and heavy lust, your lips flushed and parted as if you physically needed so, so much more. michael simply couldn’t resist. neither did you want him to.

he called your name softly, his hand moving slightly up under your shirt until the heat of his palm finally met your warm skin. a sharp breath hitched in your throat as you inhaled, and he leaned down further, gently pressing his forehead against yours.

“Is this okay?”

all you could muster was a nod.

as he moved to slowly pull your shirt up and over your head, his mouth never left yours, continuing to kiss you deeply. his free hand began a slow, agonizing trail from your stomach up to your chest, before sliding around to the small of your back and finally coming to rest, fingers gripping the soft curves of your ribs.

he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and that was a fact.

when he finally broke the kiss, he caught the instant, evident pout on your lips that made a soft smile tug at his mouth. leaning down, he hooked one of his long, slender fingers around the waistband of your shorts, gently sliding them down the length of your legs before letting them drop carelessly onto the floor.

and now, you were bare beneath him.

well, almost.

to be honest, no one had ever been allowed to see you in a state like this. you were completely vulnerable, your body so bare that your undergarments left very little to michael’s imagination. he knew you had never bared such a delicate, fragile piece of yourself to anyone before, and he wanted to carry the memory of this moment with him forever. he felt deeply honored. honored to be the very first. the first to witness such a sight, and the first to handle you with this level of tenderness, showering you in a love so profound it spilled right out of his heart and into his every movement.

and before you knew it, pieces of your undergarments came off too.

and michael couldn’t help but stare.

you were so heaven sent. looking at you now, he truly believed your body had been meticulously sculpted by the gods themselves. his eyes traced your soft, blushing curves, the gentle swell of your chest, the inviting fullness of your plush thighs. it wasn’t the first time michael had seen a woman bare, but with you, everything was entirely different. it felt as if he was being shown something ancient and profoundly sacred, leaving him almost hesitant, as if he were too scared to even touch you.

but under the heavy weight of his gaze, your chest twisted with a sudden wave of embarrassment and diffidence. your arms instinctively flew across your body to shield your chest, while your legs crossed over one another to cover your womanhood. the vulnerability felt too overwhelming, and you couldn’t bring yourself to dare meet his eyes.

and at this, michael swore he could feel his heart physically break inside his chest. his lips pulled down into a sorrowful frown, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrists. he called out your name in a mere whisper, waiting patiently until your eyes finally rose to meet his, prompting a soft, reassuring smile to break across his face.

“mama, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your cheek. smoothly, he pried your arms open with careful tenderness, guiding your hands up until they wrapped securely around his broad shoulders. moving lower, his hands nudged the sides of your knees, gently spreading your legs and guiding them to lock around his lower back, anchoring you to him.

“let me see you. I wanna see all of you. all that you’ll give me.”

and at that, he could instantly feel the way your entire body relaxed against his solid frame. when he leaned back slightly, his hands began a slow, burning trace from your stomach up to your breasts, giving them a gentle, teasing squeeze that sent a sudden wave of intense heat rushing straight to your ears.

he smiled at your reaction, trailing his warm hands back down your stomach to smooth over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Im gonna undress now too, ‘kay?” he whispered, shrugging off his robe in one fluid motion.

you took a sharp, shallow breath, nodding as the smooth expanse of his bare chest was revealed. he wore nothing beneath the robe but his boxers, and without once breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled them down to his ankles, stepping out of them to stand completely bare before you.

as he watched your gaze slowly drift down his body, your heart began to hammer so fast against your ribs that you were utterly convinced he could hear it echoing in the quiet room if he just listened hard enough.

michael had always carried a slender frame for as long as you could remember. his life was built on passion, forever rehearsing and dancing, an artistic devotion that had sculpted his physical form. he was tightly toned, his abs always showing prominently against his stomach, and his chest beautifully lean. you held a deep adoration for his body, truly believing that he was a creature devoid of any imperfections.

what you couldn’t believe was how big he would come out to be.

would you be able to take it?

michael, letting out a soft huff at your shameless staring, leaned over you and tilted your head up to meet his gaze. he pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips, then another to the corner of your mouth. when he brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, you completely melted into the warmth of his palm, lifting your own hands to rest gently around his.

“I wanna take care of you.” he spoke soflty, merely above a whisper.

“I want to do this out of love for you, and all I ask is that you let me.”

you looked up into his eyes, finding them so incredibly sincere, so soft and agonizingly tender that a sudden wave of emotion hit you, causing your eyes to gloss over with tears.

you nodded softly, and a warm smile broke across his face. “we're gonna take care of each other. and if you feel uncomfortable, or feel like you want to stop, i need you to tell me, okay?” he whispered.

“I’m here to make you feel good baby, it’s all about you.”

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “okay.”

he leaned in once again, pressing a soft, loving kiss against your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, michael.”

michael then shifted his gaze downward, carefully taking his length into his palm while using his other hand to ensure your legs were securely locked around his waist. he rolled his hips, pumping himself a few times to prepare, before slowly aligning his heat right at your entrance.

with a sharp inhale, he gently pressed forward, keeping his movements incredibly nice and slow. at first, as his tip brushed against your innocent opening, a sudden, burning heat flared up. a helpless gasp erupted from your lips, the sensation making you feel as though you were being split wide open. a deep, intense stretch bloomed within you, causing your breathing to turn completely shaky. your face turned up in discomfort as you sucked in a sharp, quiet hiss, your eyes glossing over with tears at the overwhelming stretch.

michael immediately pressed his forehead firmly against yours, anchoring you to him. “i know baby, shh,” he cooed softly into the quiet space between you, his voice a soothing lullaby as he began inching his way even deeper into you.

slowly, but surely, the initial pain melted away into a wave of pure pleasure. he gave your body plenty of time to adjust, sliding in and out in slow, deep, rhythmic strides that left you completely breathless. soft, long sighs escaped your lips, your eyelids fluttering shut at the intoxicating sensation. michael noticed the shift immediately, the old bed creaking softly beneath your combined weight as you tilted your head back, your eyes snapping shut and your back slightly arching off the mattress.

“michael more, please.”

and with his pace gradually quickening, your jaw went completely slack. you genuinely felt like you were ascending to another world, your mind becoming so heavily clouded with a mix of raw pleasure and heavy lust that it felt agonizingly good, almost entirely overwhelming. your moans shifted, becoming higher pitched with every movement. it was a deep, soft, and gentle kind of lovemaking, but the intensity was undeniable. michael couldn’t help but stare down at the absolute bliss written all over your face, desperately wanting to burn the image into his mind forever. tiny beads of sweat began to form along his hairline as he worked above you, his eyes tracking the way your breasts recoiled with every single long, deep stride he took within your body.

and as michael angled his hips just so, a sudden wave of friction made your body lock up in pure shock. he had uncovered a spot so deep within your core that you began to see stars, your mind completely spinning. a beautiful warmth burned across your skin, your hands trembling as your fingers buried themselves into the soft comforter beneath you. you gave a sharp gasp, your back arching high off the bed and your toes curling under as michael returned to that sacred spot again. over and over.

“oh…” he groaned. “right here? right here baby?”

you nodded frantically, hiccuping with moans. “ye…yes..yes.“

with every deep thrust that knocked the wind clean out of your lungs, you could feel yourself truly becoming whole with the man on top of you. as his heavy weight settled over your frame, he hugged you tight against his chest, your warm, sweaty skin pressed perfectly skin-to-skin. your chin rested heavily against his shoulder while deep in your abdomen, your stomach began to coil, forming a tight, hot knot of anticipation. the way michael kept thrusting in and out of you, never failing to hit that exact spot inside of you perfectly in all the right ways, combined with the relentless series of "i love you's" spilling desperately from his mouth, left you completely overwhelmed.

you were utterly overwhelmed with love, overwhelmed with his touch, in a way you had never experienced before in your life. it felt as if the remaining space between your bodies completely dissolved, two separate hearts learning the exact same rhythm until you could no longer tell where one ended and where the other began. it was a tide rising much higher than either of you expected, carrying you both into a world that felt as if it had always only ever belonged to you and michael.

it was like you fit together perfectly, like pieces of a story that had spent years searching for the very same page. and right then, time seemed to completely unravel around you, leaving behind nothing but the absolute certainty of being fully seen, known, and cherished completely.

with the very last bit of strength you could muster up from your body, fresh tears spilled from your eyes. “mi..michael, i’m—” you choked out, your voice trembling as the overwhelming sensation finally pushed you completely over the edge.

“together,” he breathed against your skin, his pace quickening into a fierce rhythm. he was completely determined to push you over the edge of that beautiful wavelength, determined to spill absolutely everything he had left inside of you. all of his love, his loyalty, his life, and his heart.

“cmon baby.”

and together, you both completely surrendered to the wave. everything you had ever held onto just slipped away into nothingness. your body jerked and shook harshly under michael's frame from the intense overstimulation, your toes uncurling and curling tight at the sheer satisfaction of the release. michael bottomed out inside you with a deep, breathless moan, and you could feel his incredible warmth and his love spill into you, filling you completely.

as your legs began to shake and your tense muscles contracted, your chest heaved up and down uncontrollably from the leftover adrenaline. michael's eyes softened with pure tenderness, and his warm hands immediately came up to your legs, smoothing over your thighs to gently massage the spasming muscles. he leaned in close, using his other hand to wipe away the stray tears on your cheeks while placing soft, lingering kisses against your lips.

“hey, look at me.”

your eyes drifted to his.

and he smiled softly, gently stroking your flushed cheek with the pad of his thumb. “you with me?” he asked, his voice incredibly tender and quiet. as if he were carefully comforting a frightened animal.

you nodded, letting out a few soft, shaky huffs of breath as the residual adrenaline slowly left your body. a quiet, helpless giggle escaped your lips as you were gently being brought down from such an incredible high. answering his tender question, you nodded once more, your gaze entirely locked as you stared deep into the warmth of his eyes.

and with you wrapping your arms tightly around his broad shoulders, he instantly hugged you back with equal fervor. both of you lay there completely bare, with him still resting deep inside of you, sharing that pure, skin-to-skin warmth. your body was utterly exhausted from the intensity of it all. he leaned down to press a lingering kiss against your temple, before slowly shifting to lay down flat beside you, pulling your frames together so that you were perfectly tucked against his chest.

“so this is how you were gonna repay me, huh?” you muttered softly, pulling back just enough from the hug to flash him a teasing smile. you lifted your hands up, letting your fingers rest comfortably in the thick expanse of his soft curls as you looked up at him.

michael let out a soft, melodic laugh at your teasing. “mhm. i did it properly too,” he murmured proudly, leaning back in close to your face. “with how loud you were—”

your face burned a bright, furious red, and you instantly brought a hand up to smack his bare chest. your eyebrows furrowed as you nervously spun your head around to stare at his bedroom door, before looking back at him and bringing your voice down to a sharp whisper. “oh stop it! do you think your family heard?”

“oh no,” you groaned loudly, immediately bringing both of your hands up to cover your burning face from his sight. “this is awful. that would be so incredibly embarrassing. so obscene, michael,” you muffled against your palms.

he let out another soft laugh at your dramatic reaction, gently prying your hands away from your burning face so he could look at you. “relax, baby. i’m joking,” he murmured softly.

“you are not!” you whisper yelled.

breaking the mood for a split second, michael paused and lifted a single eyebrow. “now that i think about it, i have a pet parrot,” he said, “and he tends to stay up at night.”

he let out a bright, echoing laugh as he watched your face turn completely mortified.

“you know they can repeat noises, right?”

and who knew that for the entire next day, michael would try to continue his usual daily routine while constantly having to hear his own name being screamed every five seconds, a loud and unyielding reminder of your intense lovemaking from the day before.