𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐔𝐩

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An: Happy Birthday Michael!

Requested from Anonymous

~ Switching Things Up ~
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~ Switching Things Up ~~*~*~

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The rain had picked up slightly, turning the air cooler than when I left the house. My fingers tightened around the plastic bags, the droplets of water dotting my coat as I fumbled with my keys. I could feel the chill of the evening seeping through the fabric, making me eager to get inside. As soon as I unlocked the front door, I was greeted by the low hum of the TV in the living room and the faint scent of rain still clinging to the air.

"Michael, I'm home!" I called out, my voice barely carrying over the sound of the TV. The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across the walls. I could just make out his figure sprawled out on the couch, half-watching whatever was on. But as soon as he heard the door creak open, his head snapped up, and within a split second, he was on his feet, a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Baby!" Michael's voice was filled with excitement as he practically leaped off the couch. He bounded over to me like an overexcited puppy greeting its owner after hours of absence—though in reality, I'd only been gone for about 25 minutes. The sight of him, so eager and full of energy, made my heart swell with affection.

Before I could even set the bags down, Michael was already by my side, taking them from my hands. "Let me get those," he said, his voice a little breathless as he dropped them on the kitchen counter without a second thought. But before I could even thank him, he was pulling me into a tight hug, lifting me off my feet as he spun me around.

"Michael!" I squealed, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as I was swept up in his enthusiasm. "Put me down!"

But he only grinned wider, refusing to let go. "I missed you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness as he began peppering kisses all over my face—my cheeks, my nose, my forehead—anywhere he could reach. His excitement was contagious, and I couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up inside me.

"Michael, the groceries!" I managed to gasp between giggles, trying to pull away as he leaned in to kiss my lips. His kisses were warm and insistent, each one making it harder to focus on anything but him.

"Ugh, fine," he huffed dramatically, finally setting me back on my feet but not before stealing one last kiss. "But only because you said so," he added with a mock pout, turning toward the kitchen counter where the grocery bags sat. He began unpacking the contents with exaggerated care, as if he were handling something precious.

I watched him, a fond smile on my face as I joined him in the kitchen. "You act like I've been gone for hours," I said, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.

𝑀𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑒𝑙 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 • 𝐕𝐨𝐥.𝟑Where stories live. Discover now