Michael Jackson imagines 2

Depressed

(This was way too cute I had to put it in haha!)

Wiping the newly washed plates in the huge kitchen of Neverland- still preferring to do it yourself rather then have one of Michael's staff do it, thoughts echoed around your head. Thoughts of negativity, tiredness and a strong feeling of being unmotivated. Today was one of those days when depression gets its way.

Hearing a patter of footsteps, Michael enters the kitchen wearing black dancing slacks, fedora and red shirt, sweaty from dance practise. Even on days off he continues to work, full of energy- the complete opposite of you. No one else was in the house as michael prefers to spend these few days as a couple.

Licking and gently biting one soft pink lip, Michael paces over slowly, coal coloured curls swinging delicately. Those familiar, strong arms wrap around your fragile body tightly, pulling you into a loving hug. Hot sighs echo in your ear, making tears spring into both eyes for no reason. "I love you Y/N." Michael whispers sweetly, if randomly, in a low pitched voice.

Not being able to handle the overwhelming abundance of emotions, salted tears fall down each cheek, alerting your husband that something was wrong. He looks with furrowed brows and a hint of concern in those wondrous brown orbs and instantly recognises the signs of depression. Changing his stance slightly, Michael begins to lecture you out of concern. "Why didn't you come and find me, huh? I need you to talk to me about these things Y/N. Ain't no good feeling like this when no one can help, is it now? Baby, I can help but only if you tell me as soon as the feeling arises!" That familiar Gary accent escapes from each parted lip as both manly hands rested upon your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

Sighing worriedly once again, Michael urges you to take his outstretched hand and, feeling like a child again, you followed every instruction. In silence, Michael leads slowly through the lavish wooden hallways filled with favourite memorabilia and up the grand staircase, until reaching the bedroom.

Of course.

That's his solution for many things. Had an argument? Sex will fix that. Feeling bored? Let's have sex. Quite frankly, although it feels so good... crazily good, he needs to learn that not everything revolves around sex.

"No." Pulling the hand away from his, whilst shaking your head like a child, Michael turns to watch in shock. "I'm not in the mood michael. I don't want to.' You whined, beginning to walk away before he stopped you by grabbing ahold of that hand once again.

Staring firmly, Michael explained calmly, "I know." That was enough to stop any girl in her tracks. Compliant, Michael took his opportunity and led you into the dark bedroom, pulling his wife's willing body into the luxurious, plump pillows and thick duvet, which felt like heaven. Curling up into this softness tiredly, you kept your eyes open long enough to watch Michael lay the fedora on the bedside table and crawl into bed, one leg intertwining with yours. With that beautiful face lay facing you, he blinked each doe like eye and smiled small. "Sleep baby, it'll make you feel better." Michael whispers in a soft voice, one leg rubbing yours soothingly, allowing you to disappear into a world of welcoming darkness.

****

"Y/N? Wake up darling, I'm gonna cook some food." A soft, humming voice woke you from a peaceful slumber to see Michael standing over the huge bed, grinning cheekily. "Hiya sweetheart, I left you asleep for a while but I'm about to start dinner." He explained sweetly, gesturing to the little clock which read 8:45 and pecking one blushing cheek. The three hour nap really lightened the depressive mood, leaving a feeling of being relaxed, refreshed and certainly hungry for more then dinner.

"Okay baby... thank you." You replied softly and sincerely whilst stretching and sitting up against the golden gold headboard, thankful for everything. Smiling still, Michael just shook his head and waved it off, beginning to get changed into some older clothes to cook in. Caramel coloured body tensing sexily whilst undoing that dancing shirt, he turned around to face the wall shyly, aware that you were watching. Each perfect curl shook as he trembled under your gaze, the things you make him feel are unexplainable.

As Michael reached to grab a top from the drawers, you spoke up. "Keep it off." His surprised face turned to meet a lustful gaze, brown eyes turning sultry as he unintentionally stared with bedroom eyes.

"I want my sexy naked chef to cook for me tonight." You whispered , both nostrils flaring in need as a look of doubt flushed through his face. So you gave something he couldn't refuse. "Please... daddy." The words simply fluttered into the air, whimpers and groans following suit as Michael gulped, affected by the small moment. Swallowing harshly, he replied, almost uncertainly. "I thought you weren't in the mood."

Well played Jackson.

It's times like this when regret comes to play. "I wasn't." Gritting teeth in sexual frustration and continuing. Sensing this, Michael chuckled lowly and stepped back over to the drawers to pull out a black apron.

"Your wish is my command." He joked, throwing the discarded red shirt at you before setting the material overhead and tying the sash around his slim waist. Tugging both slacks and boxers down, the apron covered what you really longed to see, although made blood flow though each vein faster then before. The bed was a perfect place to admire the handsome chef who turned around to open the bedroom door and in the process showed his cute little butt on full display. Each rounded cheek jiggled, causing small yet lustful giggles to erupt.

"Something funny, huh?" He laughed, pearly whites on display and quickly scooped you in his arms bridal style. Shrieks erupted from each lover at this new found excitement and Michael carried your dainty body down to the kitchen once again, setting his beautiful wife on the countertop and set about cooking a lavish meal of white wine glazed salmon and asparagus with the window letting in the dark of the night. Soft lights reflected in both eyes and watching him concentrate on the asparagus in the pan made you realise how lucky it is to have someone like him. Someone to cure your depression by just being himself.

And you could not wait the night to fall.