You & Me Against The World✨

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Off The Wall Era


"Michael! You're gonna drop me!"

You giggle wildly, your grip around his neck tightening as the two of you stumble down the hallway. Your heart thumps loudly with joy, the faint sounds of smooth, lively jazz drifts from an open window and you couldn't be happier.

He smiles down at you, his Bambi eyes twinkling with an ardent glow.

"And ruin this mood? Never. I'm so happy, girl."

You grin.

"Me too,"

Michael finally sets you down on your feet once you reach the room, fumbling in his pockets for the key as he hums the traditional tune the both of you can't get out of your head.

With just a crack of the door, you pull him in for a passionate kiss, your bodies colliding against each other in a blur of tangled limbs and mouths. Your body is ablaze with desire and your head swirls to a symphony of euphoria only briefly interrupted once your feet fly from underneath you.

The weight of both of your bodies tumble against the California king bed, causing an irruption of giggles among the two of you.

Michael presses a gentle kiss to your mouth peering down at you through long lashes, his slim frame nestled on top of you. Another giggle passes your lips once the realization hits you.

"I can't believe we did that," you gasp. "Michael, we're married."

You and your boyfriend Michael had just eloped in New Orleans. Like all elopements, it was a spur of the moment decision. A long, late-night conversation had led to a five-hour flight to the Big Easy, a ten-minute wedding ceremony, and the rest of your lives.

As rushed and impromptu as it was, you were completely satisfied with your decision. You were madly in love with Michael and couldn't think of another person to spend forever with. You were both young, two decades, and just a year under your belt with Michael's solo career just taking off.

You didn't know the first thing about marriage but it didn't matter. As long as you were together you knew all the stars would align.

His hands fasten to your waist as he grins down at you.

"Isn't it wonderful, Y/N?"

"That's Mrs. Jackson to you," You giggle.

You lean up to connect your lips once more. Kissing as boyfriend and girlfriend was always sweet but your kisses as husband and wife are sacred, reverent.

"It was wonderful," Michael hums. "No press, no fans. I bet nobody even knows we're here. It's just me and you, girl."

You melt against your handsome, newlywed husband as he peppers kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck. It feels as if all the world has melted away and the only thing left is you and him. Still, you can't help but briefly think about the weight of your actions.

"How long do you think it'll take everyone back home to figure out?" You question, running your fingers through his curls.

Michael sighs against your skin.

"I don't care. It's none of their business what we do, anyway. We're grown, married adults. You're my wife. Nothin' else matters."

You grin, inflamed by his confidence.

"I love you," you whisper.

He leans up to peck your lips for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

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