Reverie - Michael Jackson Imagines

Human Nature✨

Off The Wall Era

A thick, lecherous heat had filled the room despite the cool night breeze that puffed out of the cracked window. The warmth was nearly impossible to avoid with the both of you so dangerously close. You withered underneath him as he speckled a constellation of California kisses against your neck.

A shallow breath manages to escape you as your fingers reach ardently for his curls but soon retract at the feeling of him prodding beneath you, the classic indicator that you'd gone just a bit too far.

"Michael," you sigh, shifting beneath him. "we can't."

The words had no sooner left your mouth before he reluctantly rolls away from you. He plops against the mattress with a frustrated sigh and you cover your face in familiar embarrassment.

You and your boyfriend Michael had been together for quite a while, the middle of your teen years to be exact. What started out as a juvenile, puppy love had developed into a deep and intricate adult relationship. You had become best friends and learned to love and respect each other like that of adults well beyond your years. However, along with the mutual love and respect was a lot of unbridled physical attraction that was beginning to pose a problem.

Despite your years together, you and Michael had yet to take the next big step in your relationship- giving all of yourselves in the most intimate and physical way.

You'd agreed that you wanted to wait until the moment was right and the both of you were ready but there were other restrictions, such as Michael's commitment to his religion that prohibited premarital sex You both seemed satisfied with waiting things out but since the both of you had turned twenty-two, the tides had changed.

You were beginning to find abstinence to be boring and ridged. You were growing increasingly curious about exploring your sexuality. It was nights like these that you felt like pushing the envelope and giving in, but the moment things began to get hot and heavy you chickened out.

"I just don't get it, Y/N," Michael starts. "the mood is always right, and you have to go and mess it up."

You sit up against his headboard, gripping a throw pillow to your half naked chest. You keep your eyes fixed to a Charlie Chaplin poster that's lopsidedly taped to a facing wall. You're far too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry."

Michael groans in response, and slouches beside you.

"Do you think I'm ugly, Y/N? Is there something about me that turns you off? Am I not desirable to you?"

The sexually flustered desperation in his voice makes you feel even worse.

"That's nonsense, Michael," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I think you're the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on. Plenty of girls do. I just- I just don't know. I keep chickening out."

Michael scoots closer to you, draping a lanky arm around your waist.

"What are you afraid of?" he whispers. "it's just me. I promise I'll be really gentle. I'd never hurt you."

A small smile manages to settle on your lips, and you reach over to adjust a curl that had gotten smushed in your heated kisses.

"That's not what I'm afraid of," you speak slowly. "I'm just scared that if we go all the way, it will change things. What if you don't love me the same? Will you get bored with me?"

These were the thoughts that constantly creeped into your mind whenever you two got too close. Michael was a known sex symbol around the globe and could easily have any woman he chose. Women of all ages were willing and ready to jump his bones. It was only a matter of time before he got tired of you and found someone better.