mjsbrat

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part I, the beginning.

you pushed open the heavy, soundproofed door to the control room. the windowless room full of sprawling mixing consoles and dreams. you stood in the doorway, clipboard pressed to your chest like a shield, trying to keep your breathing steady.

junior production assistant to teddy riley.

the words still felt unreal. twenty-four years old, fresh out of college, and somehow you’d landed your first real job on the most anticipated album of the decade. dangerous. michael jackson’s album.

how the fuck is this your life?

you hadn’t spoken more than a polite “good morning” since you started about a week ago. you’ve always been soft-spoken by nature, but around him, the instinct to stay quiet grew even stronger. you simply did your job: making sure the tapes were labeled and ready, keeping the schedule tight, taking detailed notes on takes, and quietly refilling water bottles before anyone had to ask.

you had never forgotten what teddy had told you on day one: “stay out of the way, but stay useful.”

so that’s exactly what you did.

you lingered silently in the back of the control room all day, every day. watching michael and your boss work for hours on end on a single beat. it took everything in you to keep your eyes away from michael. his presence was… intense. he was larger than life, yet almost as soft-spoken as yourself.

one afternoon, during a short break, michael stepped away from the microphone and walked into the control room, wiping sweat from his brow. teddy and the rest of your colleagues stepped out of the room for a chat. you stayed, quietly organizing the tapes for the next take, turning your head down to stay focused on your task.

he stopped beside you.

“you’re always one step ahead,” he said softly.

your heart slammed against your ribs. you looked up at him slowly. his large brown eyes stared down at you, warm but intense. you felt your cheeks start to heat up.

“just doing my job, mr. jackson,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. scared to step out of line.

a small smile tugged at his lips. “michael,” he corrected gently.

“michael.” you nodded shyly. returning a small smile to him, unsure what else to say, you went back to your task.

from that day forward, he interacted with you. it was always in small ways… a quiet “thank you” when you handed him fresh water exactly when his voice started to strain, or a soft “goodnight” as he headed out the door.

the days blurred together in a haze of creativity and caffeine. you moved quietly through the studio like a shadow, until michael found a way to pull you into the light.

it happened on a long thursday evening. the atmosphere in the control room was thick with frustration. michael, teddy, bill bottrell, and bruce swedien had been going back and forth for hours on a song structure that wasn’t quite locking in. the track, still untitled, kept falling apart in the bridge.

you were refilling water bottles in the corner when michael suddenly turned in his chair, his eyes finding you.

“what do you think?” he asked. the room went quiet. your stomach dropped. you froze, clutching an empty bottle.

“i… i’m sorry?” you whispered, voice barely carrying across the room.

michael leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking at you with genuine curiosity. “the structure. the bridge into the chorus. you’ve been listening to every take. what do you feel is missing?”

your cheeks burned. you had never felt so put on the spot before. suddenly you became very aware of your age and lack of experience… and very aware you were the only woman in the room.

“i don’t—“ you started, terrified to overstep. your eyes looked towards your boss for guidance. you were just the assistant. the girl who made sure the tapes were labeled and the important people stayed on schedule. not someone whose opinion mattered to michael jackson.

“oh, teddy, you’re scaring her,” michael chuckled as he slapped teddy’s arm with the back of his hand. “tell her she can talk to me.”

teddy laughed at michael’s shove and lifted his hands, motioning for you to come closer. you placed the waters on the table and cautiously made your way over towards the men, your heart hammering in your chest.

“so?” michael asked, tilting his head to the side as he awaited your response. his eyes stared deep into yours as you quickly looked away from the way it made your heart leap in your chest.

after a long, calming breath, you spoke carefully, “the bridge feels… too expected,” you murmured. “it builds tension but then drops too safely into the chorus.” you paused for a second, moving so you were in between the chairs michael and your boss were sitting in, looking to get a better view of the board.

“if you held the note a little longer on the last line, really let it suspend, and brought the bass in underneath instead of the drums… it would feel more like a release. like a breath, you know?”

silence.

you immediately regretted speaking. too much. too bold. welp, you can kiss this job goodbye!

you looked over your right shoulder to find michael staring up at you, eyes bright with something new. he turned slowly back to the console, played the section again, then made the exact adjustment you suggested… holding the note, dropping the drums, letting the bass glide underneath.

the room shifted. the song clicked. teddy let out a low whistle.

michael leaned back, a slow, radiant smile spreading across his face. he looked at teddy and pointed in your direction. “you see that? she hears it. i want her in every session from now on.”

your breath caught. michael’s gaze returned to you, intense and focused in a way that made your knees feel weak. something shifted in that moment; he had locked in on you.

later that night, after the others had finally packed up, michael lingered. you were gathering your things quietly when he approached, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks.

“your idea was perfect.” the sound of his voice stopped you dead in your tracks. it was like he stole all of the air from your lungs. you looked up at him, flustered as you tried putting together a sentence, anything.

“thank you…michael.”

he smiled at the sound of his name on your lips. you had expected him to slip out of the room quietly behind you, but instead he leaned up against the wall, studying you further.

you felt your breath hitch, unsure of what to do. you turned your attention to your things, trying your best to avoid direct eye contact with him. instead you focused on grabbing your scattered papers from the table in front of you.

“long day,” he said quietly, almost awkwardly, eyes still fixed on your every move. you nodded in agreement, avoiding his gaze. “was it a long day for you too?” he asked casually, pushing for an actual answer from you.

“i guess,” you mumbled as you looked up to view the clock hanging above the exit. 12:18 a.m. michael took notice of your slight movement and followed your eyes to view the time himself.

“what time did you get here?” he asked, his voice soft and curious. you had to stop yourself from looking at him as if he had three heads. why on earth would michael jackson care to hold such a mundane conversation with someone like you?

you turned your head in his direction, finally meeting his gaze. he looked so… normal.

“um, around 7, i think?”

“7 a.m.?”

“yeah,” you replied as you finished stuffing your notepads and folders into your bag, “guess it has been a long day.”

“is it tiring?” he inquired, refusing to let the conversation die. you shifted on your feet slightly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you looked back up at him.

“yeah,” you answered honestly, “but i don’t mind. this is everything i’ve ever dreamed of.”

michael studied your face, the way your eyes started to twinkle as you spoke to him about your dreams. he smiled at you, a soft and kind smile.

“what made you want to work in the studio like this?” he asked, real curiosity painted across his face.

“i’ve always been drawn to the magic that happens behind the scenes,” you answered truthfully, “the way one small decision on the board dictates the entire sound… i don’t know.”

michael smiled at you as you spoke, and the sight of him in front of you had your heart beating so loud you were scared he was going to be able to hear it. he stared at you, barely blinking as he took in everything about you. you felt… vulnerable? like he was figuring out every part of you right there in that moment.

“i know it’s late,” michael started, “but if you’re not too tired, i could show you a few things.”

every single part of you that was exhausted before was awoken like it had been hit with a bolt of lightning… and you knew it was all over your face. you couldn’t contain your smile as you very quickly dropped your bag down on the couch next to you.

“not too tired.” you grinned; you felt like you had hit the lottery. and michael couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm as you both made your way back to the console.

the hours slipped away. as you sat in your boss’ chair next to michael, the studio felt smaller. like the rest of the world had melted away. he made you feel comfortable instantly, speaking in a soft and warm tone that made you relax more and more with each passing second. he took his time explaining different techniques he had learned throughout the years, making sure you fully understood the process before he moved on to the next thing.

somewhere along the way michael started to sprinkle in some questions about you. he asked you things like: what kind of music moved you when you were a girl? what do you hope to create one day? how did it feel to be fresh out of college and thrown into this world?

you opened up bit by bit, your soft voice gaining a little more confidence as he listened so intently. he made it so easy, which shocked you. it amazed you how tentative he was. it seemed like he really cared about what you were saying.

in return, he began sharing pieces of himself, small at first, then deeper. he spoke about his bad tour, which had just wrapped up within the last year. what it’s like being away from home for months, sometimes years on end. in his rawest confession, he told you about the quiet loneliness that comes with being who he is.

and you were a goner.

you could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes as he spoke. the way he spoke so openly and honestly took you by complete surprise. yet, it felt natural. like you had known him forever.

“i’m sorry you feel so lonely,” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. michael stared at you, his big eyes growing even softer at your words.

“it’s okay,” he replied, looking to switch the conversation off of himself. “what about you?” he asked as he turned away from your gaze, almost shy-like.

“what about me?”

“are you lonely? or do you have someone?” he asked, voice softer than ever before. you felt your heart skip a beat at his question.

“no and no,” you answered, “not lonely. also not seeing anyone.”

michael scanned your face the entire time you spoke; you had never felt so listened to before. he made you feel like you were the only person in the world with the way he looked at you. you felt like you could stay there forever and never run out of things to talk about. it was almost four in the morning when michael finally glanced at the clock.

“you must be exhausted,” he said, voice husky from hours of talking. he stood and offered his hand to help you up. when your fingers slid into his, he didn’t let go right away, allowing his touch to linger. his hand was warm, and so much larger than yours.

“do you have a car here?” he asked softly, slowly dropping his hand from yours.

“no, no, my car is a piece of junk that’s always in the shop,” you laughed. “i’m just going to take a cab.”

“absolutely not,” michael protested, grabbing his jacket from the couch, “i’ll take you home.”

“it’s okay, really—“

“i’m not taking no for an answer,” michael replied, grabbing your bag to carry it for you without even asking, like he had been doing it forever. “let’s go.”

the drive was mostly quiet. michael was driving, something he told you was rare that he does for himself, and you were next to him, spewing out directions as the city lights blurred past the windows. when he pulled up outside your modest apartment building, the air felt thicker with tension.

michael turned to you, his gaze intense in the dim light. “thank you for tonight,” he whispered. “for being you.” before you could respond, he reached over and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that made your breath catch. you felt as if you were floating out of your body. “you’re different,” he finished, as he searched your face for any sign of discomfort. he moved towards you slowly, like he was giving you every chance to pull away, and pressed his lips gently against yours.

the kiss was soft at first, slow and respectful, as he gauged your comfort level. when you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss. his hand slid into your hair as he pulled you closer to him. his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, asking for access, which you granted immediately. he kissed you with such passion it made your stomach drop, similar to the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. it was exhilarating. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“i’ve wanted to do that for days,” he admitted, voice low. “you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

you didn’t know what to say back to him. so instead, you sat there in the quiet dark. your heart pounding, your mind reacting. the first fragile boundary between the two of you finally crossed.

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part ii, the honeymoon stage.

the days that followed the kiss felt like a dream you were terrified of waking up from.

you did your absolute best to stay professional in the studio, but it was impossible to hide how giddy you felt whenever michael was near. every time he looked at you, your stomach fluttered and your cheeks warmed. a small, secret smile would tug at your lips when he passed you a note with a quick lyric scribble and a heart at the bottom. you found yourself constantly replaying the feeling of his lips, and the feeling of his tongue swirling around yours. you were completely drunk on him.

michael, meanwhile, was becoming completely obsessed.

he noticed everything. the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating. how you preferred your coffee with a touch of cinnamon on busy mornings. how you always smelled faintly of vanilla and the rose lotion you loved. the nervous little habit of biting your lower lip when you were trying not to speak out of turn. he catalogued it all.

that first week following the kiss, he started carving out time for the two of you outside the studio.

it began small. one evening after a long session, he took you to a private overlook in the hills before taking you home. the city sparkled below while he played unreleased tracks for you on a portable cassette player, his arm eventually slipping around your shoulders. the two of you sat there for hours, as he told you more and more about his life, saying “i’ve never felt safe enough to tell anyone these things before.”

another night, he brought you to neverland. it was 2 a.m., and there the two of you were, riding the carousel like children. michael’s laughter, bright and unguarded, mixed with the cheerful mechanical music as you spun under the twinkling lights.

“you deserve to have fun too,” he told you softly, watching you spin on the painted horse with pure adoration in his eyes. “not just work.”

that night was special. it was the first time he made love to you. you had never felt so cherished and completely cared for in your entire life. you had never been so intimate with someone before. yes, you’ve had sex, but you’ve never had someone be so gentle with you.

he took his time with everything. he took his time undressing you, his fingertips tracing every inch of newly revealed skin like he was memorizing every part of you. his mouth mapped your body while he placed warm, wet kisses trailing from your neck to your breasts, sucking gently on your nipples until they ached, then lower, across your stomach, until his breath ghosted over your core.

the first slow stroke of his tongue drew a broken, needy moan from deep in your throat. he was patient, devastatingly attentive, learning exactly how you liked to be licked and sucked. the wet sounds of his mouth working you open filled the quiet room, mingling with your soft gasps and whimpers. he hummed in pleasure against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine.

“that’s it, my sweet girl,” he praised, voice muffled. “let me hear you. you taste so good… so perfect for me.”

his tongue fucked you with slow, deliberate devotion until your thighs trembled violently around his shoulders and your fingers were desperately tangled in his soft curls. the orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. it was completely consuming, overwhelming, leaving you shaking and gasping as waves of pleasure crashed over you again and again. michael moaned against you, lapping up every drop of your release like he was starving for it, savoring you until your body had nothing left to give.

when he finally rose, the weight of his body settling over yours felt like coming home. skin against heated skin. his scent, cologne mixed with sweat, surrounded you. he positioned his thick cock at your entrance and pushed in slowly, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time.

the stretch was intense, a deep, burning fullness that made you gasp as you wrapped your legs around his waist. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, forehead pressed to yours, sharing the same ragged breath.

“are you okay?” he whispered, voice strained with the effort of holding back. his warm, slightly damp skin pressed against yours everywhere. his curls falling onto your face.

you nodded, nails digging into his back as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled by him.

“please… move.”

he made love to you like he was trying to fuse your souls together. deep, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. the room filled with the slick, intimate sounds of skin against skin, your soft, desperate moans, and his low, consistent praises. every thrust felt like it reached deeper than your body, like he was searching for parts of you no one else had ever touched.

“you feel incredible,” he groaned, voice raw and trembling. “so warm and tight around me… like you were made to fit me perfectly. i’ve never felt anything like this.” one of his hands stayed linked with yours above your head, fingers tightly interlaced, while the other worshipped your body. his thumb brushed against your sensitive nipple, trailing his palm down your side, fingers finding your clit to circle in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. every movement bound you tighter to him. you felt engulfed in him. lost in the heat of his skin, the taste of his kisses, the relentless pleasure building inside you until there was nothing left but him.

he brought you over the edge again like that, kissing you through your orgasm as you clenched and fluttered wildly around him, trembling and gasping into his mouth. the intensity left you sobbing his name, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as you pulled him closer. only then did he let himself follow, shuddering with a low, broken groan as he pulled out at the last second and pumped himself rapidly, painting your stomach with thick, hot ropes of his cum.

afterward, he collapsed beside you and pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in existence. his fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns on your back while he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your lips. you could feel the emptiness from him between your legs, the stickiness of his release on your skin, the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek.

“i’m falling so hard for you,” he whispered against your skin, voice raw with emotion. “you make me feel… insane.”

you curled tighter into his chest, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. in that moment, you felt utterly tied to him; body, heart, and soul. it was everything, and you had fallen completely.

you weren’t the first one to say it. you were lying with him on the large couch in his private sitting room at neverland, a week after the passionate night the two of you shared. the lights were low, with a crackling fire directly below the television playing his favorite cartoon. he was holding you in his arms, your face flush against his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he shifted slightly.

“i love you,” he said, voice low and unwavering. “i know this is fast… maybe too fast, but i’ve never said those words and meant it this much before.”

it was fast. dangerously fast. but hearing those words from him, feeling chosen by him, made your heart swell so much it practically hurt. you lifted your head to meet his eyes. he was looking at you like you hung the moon and stars.

“it feels like everyone always wants something from me,” he continued softly, lacing his fingers with yours. his grip was warm, almost a little too tight. “but you… you just give. you make me feel safe. i need you. i’ve never needed anyone the way i need you.”

the words made you melt. it was a dizzying rush of love mixed with the quiet thrill of being so desperately wanted by him, of all people. you were completely overwhelmed with emotion.

“i love you too,” you responded quickly, grabbing his face with both hands to pull him in for a steamy, passionate kiss.

the gifts followed immediately after. each one more thoughtful than the last, each one showing how deeply he paid attention.

first, a small velvet box waited on your usual table in the studio. inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny music note pendant. the note read: for the girl who hears the music in everything. wear this and think of me.

a few days later, a beautiful designer purse appeared at your apartment. soft leather in a warm gold-brown tone that matched his favorite dress of yours perfectly. “for carrying all those notes you take for me, i love you,” the card said.

then came the earrings. exquisite gold hoops with small diamonds that caught the studio lights. he’d noticed you admired a similar pair in a magazine left lying around. when you put them on with trembling fingers and looked up at him shyly, his smile was radiant.

“they suit you perfectly,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush your hair back so he could see them better. his fingers lingered on your skin.

“everything looks better on you, baby.” his new name for you.

you had never felt attention like this ever, and it was coming from him. the way he made time for you, the way he noticed every tiny detail, treating you like you were the most precious thing in his world.

as the weeks went on, you found yourself canceling plans with friends without hesitation. not because he ever asked you to, but because you wanted to. your mind was consumed by him. you began dressing with him in mind every morning. you started waking up earlier so you could make sure you looked perfect for him. always making sure to wear the gold necklace and earrings he’d given you, because you loved the way he noticed. he noticed every single time.

michael went out of his way to ask you for your opinions in the studio. constantly turning around in his chair to engage with you. he never made you feel small or less than. your dreams of producing and writing felt brighter than ever, but they were slowly becoming tangled with the dream of him.

he was pulling you deeper into his world, and you went willingly, heart racing, completely enchanted.

before you knew it, you were spending every minute of every day with him. mornings and evenings in the studio were dedicated to him: taking his notes with extra care, keeping his tea at the perfect temperature, dimming the lights the moment his eyes started to squint. nights were spent in his bed, filled to the brim with his cock while he kissed your face and whispered how perfect you were; his muse, his everything.

so when he told you he had to leave town for a few days for a charity event, your heart shattered. it wasn’t normal. you knew it wasn’t normal to be so entangled with someone that the idea of being apart for 48 hours felt impossible. you had begged him to stay, taking his packed bag from his hands and forcing him down onto his bed. straddling his lap firmly while you licked his neck, placing delicate kisses below his ear, whispering “stay.”

“i’m sorry, baby,” he practically moaned, placing his hands gently on your waist while you continued your assault on his neck. “i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“how are you going to do that?” you whispered, sucking his earlobe into your mouth gently.

“you’ll just have to wait and see, baby,” michael replied, lifting you off his lap and placing you down onto the bed next to him. he stood slowly, like he was just as desperate to stay there and worship your needy body. “i’ll be back before you know it. help yourself to anything in the house; my card is on the table. you can use it for anything,” he said sincerely, as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “i love you so much,” was the last thing he said before he slipped out the door and out of your life for the next two days.

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part III, the switch.

the night before michael was due back, you went home to your apartment for the first time in weeks. you hadn’t realized how long it had been until you noticed your answering machine flashing with dozens of missed calls from your friends and family. when was the last time you were with anyone other than michael?

sleeping in your own bed felt… wrong. it didn’t feel like your bed anymore. the whole apartment felt like it was something out of a past life. it all happened so fast that you didn’t even realize what was happening. you had become so consumed by him that you had a hard time figuring out where he ended and where you began.

the night was sleepless. you couldn’t stop thinking about seeing him. it was like you couldn’t even breathe without him. he was the only thought on your mind, fully pushing out your earlier realizations that you didn’t even recognize your own life anymore.

the next morning, you took extra time getting ready, ensuring that you looked exactly how he liked. you even slipped on a shorter skirt than usual, one you typically save for after work hours, just to surprise him once he showed up to the studio.

everything was perfect. except for your piece of shit car that wouldn’t start no matter how many times you turned the key.

you groaned, flopping your forehead onto the steering wheel in frustration. as you were about to go back inside to grab the phone to call a cab, your neighbor, mr. harlan, called out.

“car trouble again?” he asked as he was standing in the doorway with a briefcase in his hands.

“as always!” you replied, still turning to go back inside.

“you going to work? i can drop you off”

mr. harlan had given you rides to work before, when you were just an intern, before you met michael. he was a nice man, one who never gave the creeps. he was about 45, with salt and pepper hair and a kind smile. he reminded you of your father.

“i can call a cab; it’s okay.”

“i’m going right down the road from there, it’s no trouble, sweetheart.” you looked down at the watch michael had gotten for you, realizing that if you weren’t at the studio in thirty minutes, teddy would have your head on a stick.

“are you sure?” you asked politely. mr. harlan just motioned for you to get in the car, and you did.

the ride was short and pleasant, making small talk with mr. harlan as he asked you about your job, making a quick comment that “no one’s seen you around for a while.”

before you knew it, you were at work, with five minutes to spare. you turned to him with a genuine smile, “thank you so much mr. harlan, really.” you leaned over and gave him a quick appreciative hug. he patted your back gently. you smiled brightly as you pulled away, “you’re a lifesaver.”

after a quick touch-up in the bathroom, you made your way to the control room. wanting to make sure you set everything up perfectly for michael’s arrival later in the day. as you walked in, you felt your heart skip a beat. michael was already there, sitting at the mixing board with a notebook and pen in his hand.

“oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed, feeling your heart rate increase at the sight of him.

he didn’t turn around. he didn’t move a muscle.

you dropped your clipboard and bag on the couch as you made your way over to him. “what are you doing here?” you asked excitedly. “i thought you were getting in later?”

nothing.

your heart rate spiked again, not from excitement, but from rising dread. your stomach twisted with confusion.

“is everything okay?” you asked, grabbing his shoulder gently. he didn’t even look at you. just continued scribbling in his notepad like you didn’t exist.

you were interrupted by teddy, bruce and bill’s arrival to the room. which signaled it was time for you to be the junior assistant producer, not the concerned girlfriend.

your stomach twisted with nerves all day long. every thought was consumed by the terrifying possibility that the love he had poured into you so completely could be taken away in an instant.

his silence was tearing you apart. what happened? did something happen on his trip? did you do something?

you tried your best to carry on with your routine as normal, but this time he ignored every gesture. when you gave him more water, he didn’t even turn his head to look at you; he just continued his conversation with your boss. when you lowered the lights for him later in the session, he didn’t mouth ‘thank you’ to you like he normally did. he was stone cold. it was like you weren’t even there. it was driving you crazy.

it was eating you alive. every ignored glance, every silent dismissal, carved a deeper hole inside your chest.

the day dragged for what felt like an eternity, your chest aching with confusion, desperate to get anything out of michael. once the others stepped out for their smoke break, leaving you and michael alone, you approached him. your voice barely above a whisper.

“michael… what’s wrong? did something happen? you’re scaring me.”

he finally turned his head, eyes dark and cold. he had a look on his face that you had never seen before. it made your chest tighten.

“who was that?” he asked calmly, voice low and controlled. you looked at him with pure confusion.

“mr. harlan?” you asked, keeping your voice low in case anyone was lingering in the hallway. “he’s my neighbor. my car wouldn’t start this morning, so he gave me a ride… is that what this is about?”

michael searched your face for what had to be the thousandth time since he met you. only this time, he wasn’t studying your face to memorize it. he was hunting for a sign of dishonesty. “a ride,” he repeated, keeping his glare intense.

“yes, michael. a ride.”

“then tell him to give you one back home,” he stated coldly as he stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. he brushed past you without another word.

the next week was agonizing.

every day he came to the studio late, and every day he left early, without looking in your direction once. he wore his aviators the entire time, like he was deliberately blocking you from seeing his eyes.

you spent every day watching him ignore you at work, then spent every night calling his bedroom phone dozens of times, leaving messages of desperation that always went unanswered. each silent hour chipped away at your sanity. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. you felt like a shadow of yourself…. like you didn’t exist for yourself anymore. instead, you were an extension of him, and you couldn’t function without him.

you started to make mistakes at work. on thursday, day 4 of silence, you handed teddy a mislabeled tape. he scolded you right then and there, in front of your colleagues, and in front of michael. the old you would’ve been devastated to make such a stupid mistake at a job that meant the world to you… but the new you was only devastated that michael sat there, expressionless behind his aviators, watching you fight back tears at the embarrassment.

he offered you zero comfort as he left early again that day.

by friday, you were physically and mentally exhausted. you felt hollow. starved. like someone had reached inside your chest and ripped out the warmth he had so carefully filled you with. the same man who told you he loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone was now making you feel completely discarded. unimportant. unworthy. the contrast was physically painful. every small movement he made sent your heart lurching with desperate hope, only for it to crash violently when he looked straight through you.

the guilt was relentless. michael’s silence made it crystal clear: this was your fault. you had done this. the realization made you nauseous. all common sense vanished. you knew deep down you hadn’t done anything wrong, yet the guilt ate you alive.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you were unraveling at a terrifying rate.

teddy and the others had stepped out to grab dinner, and to your surprise michael stayed behind. leaving the two of you alone for the first time in days. the studio was silent except for the low hum of the equipment. michael stayed sat at the mixing board, staring at a track list. you stood at the back of the room for a long moment, heart hammering, before you finally spoke.

“michael…” your voice came out small and shaky. “please. i can’t stand this anymore.”

he didn’t turn around.

you moved closer until you were standing right beside him. tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “i’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. there’s no one else. only you. i’ll do anything to make this right. i love you.” you confessed through a shaky breath.

he removed his aviators slowly, setting them on the console with deliberate care, before finally turning to look at you. his eyes were dark, filled with jealousy and hurt. he stood from his chair, towering over you in the dim studio light.

you were shaking, guilt and desperation clawing at your throat. “tell me what to do,” you whispered brokenly. “i’ll do anything. please.”

michael stared at you for a long and heavy moment. jealousy and love twisted together in his expression. then he walked past you without a word. for one terrifying second, you thought he was going to leave. instead, he locked the studio door with a quiet click that echoed throughout the tension filled room.

“get on your knees,” he ordered, voice low and commanding.

“what?” you choked out, baffled by his tone and words.

he stepped closer, pupils blown wide, the thick outline of his cock already straining against his jeans. he looked at you like he never had before… like he was starving and possessive.

“prove it to me,” he said, voice low and rough. “prove that you’re mine.”

in that moment, something shifted in him. the power he had over you was intoxicating, and he knew it.

your legs gave out before your mind could catch up. you dropped in front of him, knees hitting the carpet, heart hammering so hard you felt dizzy. you looked up at him as he unzipped his jeans, pulled out his thick, heavy cock, and fisted it slowly right in front of your face.

“open,” he ordered.

you obeyed instantly, lips parting. he grabbed the back of your head and pushed forward, sliding his cock into your mouth in one quick thrust.

“fuck… that’s it,” he groaned, voice dripping with lust. “take it like a good girl.”

he fucked your mouth with deep strokes, holding your head in place while you drooled and gagged around him.

“look at me,” he growled, fingers tightening in your hair. “look at me while i own this pretty mouth.”

you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes lightly lined with tears as you took him as deep as you could. you felt your panties pool with your arousal at his words. you felt completely dominated by him… and you seemed to love it by the way you were throbbing underneath your skirt.

his thrusts were relentless, caring only about his pleasure for the first time. your throat tightened around his length as you struggled to breathe through your nose. you were too desperate for him to want you again to even consider tapping out.

sensing you needed a break, he pulled out suddenly, leaving you gasping for air as he stood above you. his cock was glistening with your spit as he stroked himself roughly, staring down at you with dark, possessive eyes.

“you okay?” he practically moaned out; the sight was fucking obscene. the way he towered above you, tugging at his length. he looked so powerful. he had complete control over you, and he loved it.

you were breathing hard, chest rapidly falling up and down, your heart going a million miles a minute. you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded at him, he’s still making sure i’m okay. that was the loudest thought in your head.

he shook his head slightly, acknowledging your consent, then slapped his cock repeatedly against your lips. “beg for it,” he demanded, “beg me to fuck your throat some more.”

“please, michael… please use me. i’ll be a good girl i promise.”

a dark, satisfied sound left his throat as he slid his cock back into your mouth, fucking it harder.

“good girl,” he rasped. “look so pretty gagging on my cock, baby.” he moaned his pet name for you so easily that it made your stomach twist in desire. his praise was the most important thing in the world to you. hearing him call you good, pretty, baby being enough to get you clenching around nothing as he used you.

“i’m gonna come down your throat,” he growled, staring down at you with possessive eyes. “and you’re going to swallow every drop like a good girl. do you understand?”

you whimpered around his cock, nodding desperately as best you could. with a low, guttural groan, michael buried himself deep and came hard. thick, hot spurts of his release flooded your mouth and slid down your throat as he held your head in place.

“swallow it all. that’s it… good fucking girl,” he moaned.

you obeyed, throat working around him as you swallowed every drop. the act felt degrading and intimate all at once. something he had never made you do before.

when he finally pulled out, you were gasping, coughing… and so wet. your lips were swollen and slick with a mixture of your spit and bits of his cum. you felt owned and wanted all at once.

michael dropped to his knees in front of you almost immediately. his hands were gentle as they cupped your face, his eyes softening.

“come here, baby,” he whispered before pulling you in for a deep, claiming kiss. his tongue brushed against yours, tasting what he had done to you. he eventually pulled away, pressing a quick kiss to your nose before resting his forehead against yours.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, looking up at him with tear-stained and desperate eyes.

“i know,” he responded, brushing his thumb across your swollen lips. “i’m terrified of losing you,” he confessed softly, sincerity laced in his words. “i love you so much.”

you felt all of your anxiety wash away in that exact moment. you hadn’t even noticed how he didn’t apologize for ignoring you all week long… all you felt was pure relief. like you were an addict finally getting a fix.

“i love you so much, michael.” you replied, grabbing his face as his forehead remained against yours. “you’ll never lose me.”

for the first time, his love felt conditional… and you had just proven you would do anything to keep it.

────୨ৎ────

part IV, the descent.

the days after that night in that studio were so euphoric. you were on a complete high, reeling from the way he degraded you in such a loving way. beyond relieved that he had finally put you out of the misery of missing him. things felt so good again.

he returned to his loving and attentive ways immediately, reminding you exactly why you had fallen in love with him. he thanked you for every small thing you did for him in the studio, and resumed asking you for your opinion on tracks. once he even pulled you into his lap when people left the room, whispering how proud he was of you. repeatedly saying, “no one understands me like you do.”

the sex returned instantly too, but now it carried a new edge. he was still tender for the most part, taking his time worshipping you and pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck like he wanted to taste your heartbeat. but occasionally he would hold your throat while he stretched you wide with his cock as deep as he could go, admiring the way he could see the outline of himself in your stomach. sometimes making you repeat “i’m only yours” like a prayer before he lets you finish.

you learned very quickly that if you ever upset him, he would simply draw back. sometimes slowly… sometimes all at once. and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing his warmth. losing his love.

the more love he gave you, the more intoxicated you became. you strived to be perfect for him; wearing his favorite outfits, the lipstick he complimented most. it felt right. it felt natural to cater to him. you loved how it made you feel when he was pleased with you. you would go to the ends of the earth to keep him smiling at you.

the gifts kept coming: new louboutins, surprise weekend getaways, beautiful lingerie…  one evening, tangled together in bed, hot and sweaty after your respective orgasms, he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a leather journal.

“i’ve been wanting to give you this,” he whispered, handing you the small notebook. “you’re the only person i’ve ever given everything to,” he said. moving his hands to brush your hair behind your ear so he could watch your face as you opened it.

inside, michael had written several pages of his own thoughts, lyrics, and little love notes with silly drawings scribbled next to them.

you looked up at him with loving eyes. he looked so handsome. the warm firelight danced across his face so delicately. his curls, sweaty and loose, fell into his face as he looked back at you.

“flip to the end, baby.”

you flipped through the blank pages of the journal to find a note at the end: “because your mind is as beautiful as you are. write everything here. i want to know every part of you. love, michael.”

“i don’t know how i ever worked before i met you,” he said, voice genuine. “you’re my muse. maybe i can be yours… write all of your ideas here. for songs, for your future, i’ll help you get everything you’ve ever wanted.”

your mind was dizzy with love. you had never imagined love could feel this strong, this consuming, this holy.

you rode him like you were trying to climb inside his soul. you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his hips, sinking onto his thick cock in one slow, greedy motion. a broken moan left your lips as he stretched you open. michael’s hands gripped your waist tightly, but he let you set the pace, watching your face twist in pleasure as you adjusted to his size.

you rolled your hips desperately, taking him deeper with every movement. the wet sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, along with your soft, needy whimpers for him.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, eyes dark as you began to bounce on his cock. “look at you. so fucking obsessed with me.”

you leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest, riding him harder. “i love you,” you gasped. “i love you so much.”

his grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you deeper. “then show me,” he rasped. “show me who this pussy belongs to.”

his words sent a fresh wave of heat through you. you rode him faster, grinding down on him with every stroke, chasing the feeling only he could give you.

“god, you feel so good,” he moaned, eyes dark as he thrusted up to meet your rhythm. “this pussy was made to be fucked by me. made to be filled by me.”

you came hard around his cock, the feeling of him pulling you deeper combined with the quiet shame of being so openly objectified sending you over the edge. as you cried out his name, clenching around him, he flipped you over without warning.

he pinned your wrists above your head and fucked you through your orgasm with deep, punishing thrusts.

“you’re mine,” he growled, voice low and possessive. “no one else gets you. no one else gets to touch you. no one else gets this.” he slammed into you harder. “say it.”

“i’m yours,” you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure slipping down your cheeks. your overstimulated pussy being fucked mercilessly by him, “only yours, michael.”

“you belong to me,” he moaned as he came inside of you for the first time. “take it. take all of me.” he buried himself to the hilt, pushing himself up against the deepest part of you. you felt his cum flood deep into you as he throbbed inside of your clenching hole. he stayed pressed up against you for what felt like forever, breathing hard against your neck while he slowly and gently fucked his hot seed deeper inside of you.

you had never been finished in before. the feeling was overwhelming. physically and emotionally. you could feel each strong spurt marking you from the inside. filling you so completely that the excess started to leak out around where you were stretched tight around him.

emotionally, you felt claimed. and it terrified you how much you wanted it. how badly you needed to be his.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you clung to him, trembling. he lifted his head from your neck and kissed them away as he softened inside of you, murmuring how much he adored you. he pulled out gently and gathered you into his arms, holding you impossibly tight. “my perfect girl,” he murmured, stroking your hair. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

from that point on, he stopped pulling out and always finished inside of you.

the months following blurred into something you no longer recognized as your own life. michael had meticulously wrapped himself into the very fabric of your being. he was at the forefront of everything.

you stopped having car issues because michael bought you your dream car, and then gently suggested you just use one of his drivers instead. “it’s safer,” he said one night while kissing along your collarbone, “i can’t focus if i’m worried about you, baby. let me take care of you the way you take care of me.”

he started paying your rent without asking, then soothed your hesitation with soft kisses and quiet logic. “i feel guilty that you’re paying for a place you’re barely at anymore. you’ll always have a home with me.”

every time your family or friends called, he was right there. rubbing your back gently as you spoke, whispering sweet nothings in your other ear.

his anger was never loud. he never raised his voice at you. he was never violent. he didn’t need to be.

he had trained you well.

teddy had a guest in the studio one night, a member of the new band blackstreet, who teddy swore was going to be the next big thing. you must’ve spoken to the man for too long, or smiled at him too warmly, because you felt michael’s eyes burn into you immediately.

you instantly felt guilt twisting in your stomach… you knew that look. you had learned to read every subtle shift in his mood like your life depended on it. and right now, it felt like it did.

michael didn’t give you the silent treatment like before; this time he simply removed the warmth. he stopped calling you “baby” or “sweet girl”, and when you reached for his hand in the car, he let you hold it but offered no squeeze in return. at night, he still held you close, his body a solid presence against yours, but the tender kisses behind your ear and along your arms were gone. the absence of those small affections carved deeper into you than any argument ever could.

you tried desperately to bridge the gap. one evening, curled against his chest in bed, you whispered, “i love you.” he responded with the same words, voice soft, but he didn’t look at you. his gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, and the conditional nature of his love had never felt more real, or more terrifying.

the fear that he might slip away completely ate away at you. you couldn’t bear another day of his emotional distance. so that night, after he left for a late meeting, you slipped into his favorite lingerie… a delicate black lace set he had once said made you look like his own personal angel.

your hands trembled as you fastened the garters. you had bought a shiny pair of metal cuffs earlier that day… cuffs you hoped would prove how far you were willing to go. when you heard the front door open, your heart slammed against your chest. you stood in the middle of the bedroom, the cuffs dangling from your fingers, the dim lamplight casting soft shadows across your barely-covered body.

michael stepped into the room and stopped short, eyes widening slightly at the sight of you.

“what are you doing?” he asked, voice low, a mix of surprise and something darker flickering across his face.

you stepped closer, holding the handcuffs out to him like an offering. your voice came out breathy, laced with desperation and a dangerous kind of devotion.

“i’m offering you everything,” you whispered, eyes locked on his. “all of me. i’m yours to use however you want.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, the air between you thick with tension. then something in his expression shifted; hunger overtaking the lingering coldness. he grabbed the handcuffs from your hand, the metal clicking softly as he circled behind you. he pulled your arms back firmly and locked the cuffs around your wrists, the cool bite of the metal sending shivers down your spine, before pulling you back into him. you could feel how hard he was already… your desperation making all the blood rush to his cock.

his hand slid down your body possessively, reaching between your legs. his fingers brushed over your soaked lace panties, pressing against your aching pussy.

“look at how wet you get when you submit to me,” he murmured, voice rough and low against your ear. he pushed the lace aside and sank two fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep. you gasped, knees nearly buckling at the sudden fullness.

“so fucking eager,” he continued, pumping his fingers slowly, deliberately. “so pathetic and perfect for me.”

he withdrew his fingers quickly, leaving you throbbing and empty, and guided you toward the large mirror. he bent you over the edge of the bed, your cuffed hands resting against your lower back. you watched in the reflection as he freed his thick cock, stroking it only once before lining himself up.

“eyes on the mirror,” he ordered, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “i want you to watch exactly what i do to you… and what you let me do.”

he thrust into you in one brutal stroke, the sudden stretch intense and consuming. his pace was instantly rough, giving you no time to adjust as he yanked back on the cuffs restraining your arms behind your back, forcing your body to arch for him.

“that’s it,” he groaned, voice low and filthy. “look at how this pussy swallows my cock. so desperate to be fucked by me.”

the combination of the restraints, his degrading words, and the relentless pleasure left you trembling. tears of overwhelming sensation slipping down your cheeks as you stared at your reflection; flushed, bound, completely at his mercy. the fucked-up thing was how much wetter it made you. he could feel it, your arousal coating his cock and dripping down your thighs.

“you love this, don’t you?” he growled, slamming into you harder, using the cuffs to pull you back onto him with every thrust. “you love it when i use you, love knowing i own every inch of you.”

“yes- yes, i love it,” you sobbed, voice breaking.

“good girl,” he praised, “who do you belong to, baby?” he asked as he started rolling his hips, swirling the tip of his cock impossibly deep inside of you. “tell me.”

the filth spewing from his lips mixed with the overwhelming pleasure sent you spiraling. you screamed out “you, you, you” as your orgasm crashed over you violently. your pussy clenching around him as you cried out for him, tears flowing freely now.

michael didn’t slow down. he fucked you through it, chasing his own release. he followed right behind with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go before shooting his load inside of you.

he reached down between your thighs, where the two of you were still connected, and carefully scooped up the cum that was dripping out of you and down his cock on his fingers before grabbing your hair with his other hand to force you to look back into the mirror.

he moved his cum soaked fingers in front of your face, and without him needing to say a word, you opened your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, hallowing your cheeks to suck him clean.

he moaned deeply at the sight of your reflection in the mirror in front of him, pushing his fingers deeper in your mouth as you also watched yourself taste him.

he gently pulled out, unlocked the handcuffs, then turned you around and pulled you into his arms. the sudden gentleness after the roughness made you latch onto him harder. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead, your temples, your swollen lips.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice hoarse but warm again. “i needed that. you always know what i need.”

after that night, you consciously stopped making eye contact with other men, especially when michael was around. you had noticed how much more he praised you when your attention belonged only to him.

he would always be subtle, pulling you in for a hug from behind and whispering, “you’ve been so good to me lately.” before showering the back of your neck in kisses.

the two of you spent countless sleepless nights together curled up on the couch flipping through the journal he gave you. he would pull you into his lap, gently rubbing your back as he flipped through your scribbles of lyrics and arrangement ideas.

subconsciously, you were writing what you thought he would like. you memorized the way he worked in the studio. you convinced yourself it was still passion for the work. but he had become your work. your mentor. your provider. and you were so thankful he was all of those things wrapped into one.

“these are beautiful,” he would whisper, pointing to different lyrics throughout the journal. “i love the way you think, baby,” he’d say, kissing your temple. and all you could think about was him.

the long days in the studio dwindled as the album neared completion. the energy was bittersweet. a mix of pride and quiet melancholy as everyone sensed the end of a chapter approaching.

one afternoon, teddy pulled you aside near the back of the control room while michael was momentarily out of earshot.

“you’ve been incredible, kid. michael’s been singing your praises nonstop. to me, to the label, everyone. he really believes in you. i’ve got some more hands-on work coming up with blackstreet after this wraps. real producing credits. you earned this. you should thank him; he’s the reason doors are opening for you like this.”

you smiled, a small flicker of genuine professional excitement warming your chest for the first time in months. “teddy, wow, i… thank you. that means everything.”

that night, curled up against his chest on the couch, you told him what teddy had said. your voice was gentle, full of gratitude.

“he said i earned it… and that i should thank you. that you’ve really been looking out for me.”

michael pulled you closer, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. his voice was low, warm, and laced with that familiar need.

“he’s right, baby, you did earn it… and you should thank me,” he said softly, placing a quick kiss to your skin as he lifted his head from your neck. he looked at you with those big brown eyes, soft and vulnerable but laced with quiet desperation. “thank me by working with me.”

you furrowed your brows, completely confused. “work with you?” you repeated, searching his face.

“i can’t imagine doing another album without you. you always know what i’m thinking before i even say it.” his thumb brushed your lower lip, eyes soft but intense. “i’ve given you everything… haven’t i? i kept my word,” he paused, his fingers gently tracing your jaw, “please give this to me.”

you felt that familiar pull; the intoxicating mix of love and the deep fear of disappointing him. but this time there was no internal fight. you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips with complete devotion.

he really had given you everything. a life of luxury, of love. he had taken a chance on you when no one else would. and now he was offering you a future by his side.

“i’ll resign after the album is finished,” you reassured him, sweeping the curls from his face as his eyes grew larger with each word that fell from your lips. “i don’t want to do any of it without you either.”

your manicured hands shook with nerves as you finished applying your lipstick. taking a long last look at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was just the way he liked it. your hair was curly, his favorite. your nails were simple and elegant, and the same goes for your makeup. you took a slow step back from the mirror, and smoothed out the black dress you had spent way too long picking out. you smiled at your reflection.. it was perfect. short enough to drive him crazy, but not so short that members of his team would side-eye you as you slipped through the back entrance with the special pass he’d arranged.

six months. six excruciating months of aching emptiness. every night you would lay in bed replaying his voice in your head, wondering if this time apart was slowly erasing you from his world. you couldn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in, even though he called you basically every single day while he was away to tell you just how much he missed you.

michael had been away on his bad tour for what felt like ages now. any chance he had to come back home to see you, he would take it… but it’s november. and you haven’t seen him in truly what felt like an eternity. the last time being your birthday. he had just finished his first american leg, right before he was about to jet off to europe for months on end. you can still remember the taste of his lips, the smell of his skin, and the feeling of his fingers tracing circles on your back while he held you close. but those memories had started to feel like ghosts. fading, distant, leaving you haunted by the fear that you were only real to him in stolen moments.

you’ve spent every agonizing day of the last six months dreaming of being with him. well… every day was agonizing with michael. not because he wasn’t the perfect man. he is. in every single way. he’s a gentleman, he’s funny, caring, passionate, talented… the list goes on and on. the agonizing part? he won’t tell anyone about you. the secrecy had carved a deep wound inside you, a constant ache that whispered you might never be enough for the man who had the entire world at his feet. part of you understands… he’s the most famous person in the world. at the absolute height of his career, constantly surrounded by flashing lights and screaming crowds.

you’ve been seeing michael for about a year and a half now, and if you’re being candid, you thought he would be proud to show you off by now. it’s not because you’re jealous of the lavish events he gets to attend, or the celebrities he’s constantly surrounded by. you couldn’t care less about the fame or attention that would come with being publicly his. you just wanted to feel like he actually cared about you. that he was proud to call you his girl. anytime you bring it up to him, he always approaches the conversation with a deep level of understanding… but nothing ever changes.

each gentle reassurance he offered you only deepened the longing and the quiet dread that you were nothing but his hidden treasure. cherished in private, but completely invisible in public. normally saying something along the lines of, “i give so much of myself to the world. the world gets every part of me… almost every part. you’re the one thing that’s all mine.”

you knew it was the truth. you knew michael wouldn’t lie to you… but deep down you couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t the entire truth. the fear gnawed at you: maybe he liked the distance. his team works tirelessly to make him appear single, approachable, obtainable. he’s the name on the tip of every females tongue. the one everyone wants. the one everyone is talking about.

but none of that matters. because tonight, he was back. and he was finally going to be all yours. yet even as you repeated that to yourself, a hollow ache lingered in your chest… the familiar pain of hoping this time would be different.

your heart hammered the entire ride to the venue. michael insisted on having bill pick you up from your place, even though you told him a million times you could take a cab. but once michael has his mind set on something, that’s what was going to happen. so there you were, in the back of bill’s SUV. before he closed the privacy partition, he said to you how good it was to see you again, with a genuine smile.

you spent the entire car ride in silence, other than the faint murmur of the radio. you could barely hear it anyways with how loud your heart was beating. your stomach was doing flips, your hands sweating in anticipation. after what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled into the loading garage at the los angeles memorial sports arena. bill came to your door, opening it for you graciously while extending his hand to help you out of the vehicle.

“thanks bill” you said, smiling warmly at him while grabbing his hand. you carefully planted your heels on the ground as you stepped out of the car, gathering your bearings as you fixed your dress and hair.

“you ready?” bill asked. your eyes met his and you shook your head yes excitedly, probably faster than you should’ve. bill chuckled at your excitement and closed the door behind you. “come with me, i’ll bring you to him.”

as you made your way through the garage door and into the bustling maze of backstage corridors, you could hear the roar of the crowd echoing through the walls like thunder. you could hear the stomps of their feet waiting for michael to finally grace the stage. the sounds of their excitement only made your heart beat faster. you felt the exact same way as the thousands people just a few feet away. you couldn’t wait to see him either.

bill was leading you down a long hallway that felt like it would never end. so when he finally stopped in front of a door and said “he’s just in there” you couldn’t help yourself from wasting no time to open it. you needed to see him. now.

the second the door opened, it was like a weight was lifted from your chest. there he was. dressed in his leather jacket with all of the buckles and zippers, shirt half-unbuttoned, and curls styled in place, framing his face perfectly. he was hyping himself up in his mirror, repeating affirmations when his eyes opened at the sound of the door, meeting yours through the mirror he was looking in. his gorgeous brown eyes locked on you and that handsome smile broke across his face, the one that makes his entire face light up.

“baby!” his voice was warm honey as he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled you into his arms. you melted instantly, wrapping yourself around him like you were trying to climb inside his skin. he smelled intensely of cologne, that unmistakable michael scent that made your brain short-circuit. he squeezed you back just as hard, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent the same way you were doing to him.

“i can’t believe you’re finally here,” you whispered against his neck, squeezing him tighter. “i thought i was gonna lose my mind waiting.” your words barely captured the months of silent tears, the endless nights wondering if he truly missed you even half as desperately as you missed him. he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest as he lifted you off your feet for a second, spinning you playfully.

“my impatient girl,” he teased, setting you down but not letting go. his hands cupped your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks gently. the contrast between the softness of his hands and roughness of his taped fingers making your heart skip a beat. “missed you so much, counted every single day without you,” he cooed as he started peppering kisses across your face. “you look beautiful” he murmured between kisses, “as usual.”

you smiled wide, a deep blush creeping onto your face as he continued his affection all over your skin. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed you” you confessed honestly, “you like the dress?”

his hands finally released your face, taking a step back to look you up and down. he smiled, biting his bottom lip as you did a little spin for him, purposely sticking your ass out as you did so. he chuckled watching you as you gave your behind a lil wiggle.

“i love it” michael said softly, stepping closer to you again. “you like dressing up for me, hmm?”

you grinned up at him, sensing his flirtatious tone. feeling bold, you ran your fingers down the front of his jacket, tugging lightly at one of the zippers. “i’m glad you like it... considering i only wore it so you’d want to take it off of me”

michael’s eyes darkened with heat, but his smile stayed playful. he leaned in and finally kissed you. a kiss so slow, deep, and so full of longing it made your toes start to curl within your heels. you pressed yourself further up against him, never wanting to be away from him again. “oh i’ll take it off of you.” he murmured against your lips, not wanting to pull away from the feeling of your wet tongue colliding with his after so long. your earlier self-doubts melting away at the taste of him.

a loud sudden bang at the door stopped you both in your tracks.

“mr jackson! it’s show time!” the voice yelled through the door. michael sighed, hesitantly removing his mouth from yours. the loss of contact made you whine, trying to go kiss him some more. he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from making contact with his mouth again. he slowly leaned down and placed his forehead up against yours, placing a delicate kiss to your nose instead.

“two hours baby, yeah?” he cooed gently, “two more hours and then i’m all yours.” you smiled looking up at him beneath your lashes.

“two hours” you repeated, moving away from his tender grasp, not before you quickly and sneakily placed a quick peck to his lips. “break a leg handsome.”

michael smiled wide at you, you could see the adrenaline and excitement coursing through him. he was born for this. born to perform. as he turned to make his way to the door, you started to follow behind him, until he said, “there’s a tv in the corner, you can watch everything from in here. there’s snacks, some drinks. help yourself darling,” the words making you stop in your tracks in the center of the room. he didn’t even notice. as he approached the dressing room door, he turned the handle and looked back at you, “i’m so happy you’re here.” he said in his soft voice before leaving the room to make his way towards the sounds of violent screams.

and as quickly as you saw him, he was gone again. you tried your best to push down the disappointment that was clawing its way into your mind. he didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that he wanted you out of sight for the duration of his show. before you could allow yourself to think about it any longer, he appeared on the small tv screen in the room. the sound of the crowd echoing between the television and the hallway behind the closed door of his dressing room. he looked breathtaking. unreal. you don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how BIG he becomes once he steps foot on a stage. the soft spoken man melts away, and morphs into the most popular entertainer in the world like magic.

as the show went on, you couldn’t stop the familiar sting of being tucked away from returning, and it returned sharper than ever. two more hours of watching him shine for everyone else while you remained invisible.

you decided to take him up on his offer and looked around the dressing room for something to snack on and drink. rummaging through the mini fridge, you pulled out the container of orange juice and started to pour yourself a glass. as you’re doing so, you turn to watch michael on the screen. you felt a slight pang in your chest, wishing you could really watch him perform, not through a screen. you turned your attention back to the glass and that’s when you noticed the unopened bottle of vodka on the corner of the table. you grabbed it, opening the top and pouring a bit into your glass of oj. might as well... considering i’m not going to be interacting with anyone anyways. with nothing else to do but watch him on the small screen, one glass turned into two… then to three. each sip only amplified the longing and resentment bubbling inside you—the alcohol loosening the tight grip you usually kept on your pain.

the more you drank, the faster the time went, and soon enough the tv turned off, signaling the show was over. you were laying back on the dressing room couch, dress slightly riding up with your glass of vodka and orange juice in your hand when the door finally opened back up. you looked up at the sound, and watched as michael stepped into the room and closed the door behind him quickly. he had changed a few times during the show, not in the dressing room you were in, and was now sporting a thin white unbuttoned collared shirt, with a white shirt underneath. the belts and buckles were gone, replaced by the cloth belt from the way you make me feel. his once perfectly groomed curls were disheveled, hair was slick with sweat, along with his face and chest.

he entered the room smiling wide, chest heaving up and down violently. when he turned to look at you his chest stilled, taking in the sight of your long legs on display. your tits practically spilling out of your dress as you leaned back into the couch with your almost empty drink in hand. you couldn’t help but smile the sight of him, he looked insane. even though you were spinning with mixed emotions, the effect he had on you was magnetic. you leaned over and placed the drink on the table and stood, pulling the bottom of your dress down and adjusting your chest. he watched you intensely the entire time, really taking the time to look at you up and down. you made your way towards him, trying your best to mask your thoughts with a wide smile. after all, you’ve waited months to be with him. at least he was here now. you jogged towards him and practically knocked him over while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you were unreal tonight baby” you praised in his ear while holding him tightly. you could feel how fast his heart was beating. how hard he was struggling to catch his breath. not just from two hours of performing... but also from the sight of you.

he chuckled against you, wrapping his arms around your lower back as you pressed into him. “thank you darling… i smell” he said with a laugh. you moved your head so that your face was up against his neck, breathing him in. he smelt of stage lights, sweat, and yet somehow, his cologne still shone through. creating an intoxicating mixture in your nose.

“you do not” you giggled, gently pressing a kiss to his clammy neck before pulling away to look at him. he eyed you with a playful grin tugging at his lips.

“and what have you been up to since i’ve been gone?” he asks, raising his eyebrows and moving his head to gesture towards the now open and very visibly depleted bottle of liquor left on the table.

you mirrored the look on his face, raising your eyebrow playfully as you met his eyes after looking at the dent you made in the bottle. “you said to help myself, sooo..” you trailed off, grabbing his hands in yours, swaying his arms exaggeratedly, voice laced with tipsy entitlement.

he gave you a breathy laugh, dropping your hands and leaning forward to give you a quick peck on the lips. “lemme get changed mama.” he said sweetly, a stark contrast from the powerful voice you watched perform for two hours straight. as he was about to grab his change of clothes, a loud knock on the door stopped him dead in his tracks.

“mr. jackson! KABC is ready for you. you decent?” the voice of michael’s manager yelled behind the closed door. michael tensed immediately, turning around to meet your gaze.

“yeah!” he yelled back, “just gimme a minute.” he moved closer to you, grabbing your hands gently. “i’m so sorry baby. i completely forgot with the chaos of the show, seeing you… i have a quick interview.” he explained softly, rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb. he could see it all over your face. your disappointment. “won’t be long i promise.”

you sighed, but the sound came out shaky, heavy with months of buried pain. finally looking up at him. deep down you understood that this was his job, and it came with the territory. if you had been sober you would’ve realized that your being upset was childish and unfair to him… but you weren’t sober. then the resentment crashed over you like a tidal wave. six months of lonely nights, of being his secret, all of it surging forward as you thought about how he had kept you locked in this room for two hours like you meant nothing to him.

“really?” you huffed, dropping his hands. “i thought you said ‘two hours and i’m all yours’” you repeated to him in a mocking tone. the words left your mouth before you even had time to think about them. your hurt and slightly drunken mind taking over completely, leaving your moral compass out to dry. after all these months apart, you just thought his attention was finally yours. but the truth is, it’s never truly just yours. that realization burned like acid in your chest.

“i know, i know” michael whispered, clearly trying to keep his voice down so the people at the door don’t overhear him. “and i will be all yours, i just need a few more minutes baby okay?”

“ugh!” you groaned loudly, stomping your heels against the ground. the sound echoed your growing fury. michael’s jaw tightened at your actions, annoyance flashing across his face. he looked at you with shock, you had never dared of acting this way in front of him before, but you didn’t even care. all you cared about was getting him to prioritize you, to listen to you.

then another knock.

“mr. jackson, can i let them in?” in one smooth motion, he gently but firmly guided you toward the large walk-in closet at the back of the room.

“hide baby. just for a few minutes, please.” he whispered, voice low and calm like this was normal. because it was normal. you didn’t exist to him outside of your little bubble, and his request to get you to hide was a cruel reminder that he didn’t seem to care, and maybe he never truly did. your stomach dropped at his words, as you looked up at him with disbelief with raw, searing anger spread all across your face.

“hide?” you hissed, planting your feet. “are you fucking serious right now?” your voice growing louder now, cracking with hurt and rage. he strengthened his grip around your wrist, not harshly, but just enough to show you he wasn’t playing as he continued to walk you over to the closet. “you won’t even let me walk out the door past them will you?” you slurred as he dragged you across the room, “you’d rather act like i don’t even exist it’s fucking infuriating”

“please stop swearing” michael stated firmly, “and lower your voice. don’t need this from you right now” he muttered. before you knew it he gently pushed you behind the rack of glittering jackets. “it’s just for a few minutes. i promise. i love you”

you rolled your eyes at his words, “oh do you? doesn’t seem like it michael. after everything, this is what I get?”

the knock came again. louder this time, michael’s manager clearly growing impatient. you crossed your arms, pouting hard as you ducked behind the clothes, the scent of his stage costumes surrounding you. your heart was racing. you could feel the anger rising in your chest. the heat engulfing you in the tight space. this again. sneaking. hiding. like you were some dirty little secret. like you didn’t matter to him at all.

the knock came again. louder this time, michael’s manager clearly growing impatient. michael looked at you with a look you had never seen on him before. he looked desperate. desperate for you to comply, desperate to prevent the people just on the other side of his door from hearing you. you groaned audibly again, knowing you won’t win against him. you crossed your arms, pouting hard as you ducked behind the clothes, the scent of his stage costumes surrounding you. your heart was racing, pounding with a toxic mix of fury and heartbreak. you could feel the anger rising in your chest, hot and suffocating. the heat engulfing you in the tight space. this again. sneaking. hiding. like you were some dirty little secret. like after a year and a half, you still didn’t matter enough to him.

the door to the dressing room opened and you could hear the voices of the men entering the space to interview him. you leaned against the wall of the closet and muttered profanities under your breath. shocked and devastated that this is how your grand reunion with michael is unfolding. reduced to cowering in the dark while he played mr. perfect for the world. the voices in the room were muffled, but you could still hear michael’s smooth, professional tone as he handled the interruption. he was too good at this. charming, quick, and completely in control. the “king of pop” wrapping up loose ends while you stood in the dark like a burden or something to be ashamed of, tears of rage stinging your eyes. your arms crossed so tight that your nails dug into the skin.

this is bullshit.

minutes felt like hours. the rage and heartbreak from months of being hidden boiled hotter with every second trapped in the dark. finally, you heard the faint noises of the men leaving the room, followed by the door clicking shut. footsteps. then the closet door slid open. michael stood there, his eyes sweeping over you frantically… flushed cheeks, pouty lips, noting the way you were practically vibrating with attitude. just then something shifted in his expression. a storm of frustration, guilt, and raw hunger flashed across his face. he hated seeing you like this, god, did you look good.

“baby” he started, voice low.

“don’t ‘baby’ me.” you stepped out, shoving past him. your voice was loud, louder than it had ever been with him before, “six months, michael! six months of phone calls and ‘i miss you, baby’ and ‘soon’ and the second we’re finally together, you shove me in a closet like i’m some groupie you’re embarrassed of! i’m sick of it!”

michael caught your wrist before you could storm off any further, pulling you back against his chest. hard. the sudden contact stole the breath right out of you. his body was still warm from the stage, muscles tight under his shirt, and the scent of him made your already dizzy head spin. his heart pounded violently against you. he was furious at the situation, at himself, but the fire in your eyes only ignited something deeper, more possessive.

he stared down at your wild, furious eyes, biting the inside of his mouth as he searched for the right words. “don’t yell,” he repeated, his tone heavy with guilt and growing irritation. he wasn’t used to anyone talking back to him, least of all you. yet your defiance stirred something deep and hungry inside him. “i told you this was how it had to be right now. you said you could handle it.” he stated plainly, grabbing your chin to force you to maintain eye contact with him. his grip was firm, eyes burning with a mix of love and frustration.

“well maybe i can’t!” you yelled, twisting in his hold while staying pressed against him. “i hate all of the hiding! i hate pretending that i’m not yours. i want all of you, all the time! not just when it’s convenient for you. not just for stolen minutes every few months. this is bullshit and you know it!” you slurred while pressed up against him, voice cracking with months of pent-up pain and loneliness. whining and all stubborn like. not caring who could be hearing you from the hallway. you knew deep down that he wasn’t trying to hurt you.. you also knew that you were pretty drunk. and insatiably hungry for his undivided attention. and at this moment, it seemed like picking a fight with him was the only way he would prioritize you, or at least understand where you were coming from.

his grip tightened. his eyes dark with intense possessiveness. barely restrained desire flooding through him as he fought the urge to claim you right there. he spun you around so your back was flush against his front. one arm banded across your waist, the other tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him in the mirror across the room. the image of the two of you together was enough to make your center start to ache. his tall frame dominating yours, your dress riding up your thighs. it instantly sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

“i told you to stop yelling” he said softly, lips brushing your temple. “you’re acting like a spoiled little brat right now…” he continued, trailing his taped fingers down the front of your dress, just slightly above where you’ve missed him the most, “so desperate for my attention that you’ll throw a fit just to get it…” he hated how much he loved seeing you like this… unraveling, furious, and still so needy for him after all these months apart. guilt twisted in his chest, knowing he was the reason for your outburst, yet the fire in you only made his desire burn hotter.

you shivered hard against his touch and at his words. this is far from the michael you’re used to. then again… you’ve also never pushed him like this before. part of you was terrified that you were actually pissing him off, but the ache in your heart and the heat pooling between your legs made it impossible to stop. you were so angry, so starved for him. for all of him.

“then do something about it,” you challenged, voice breathy as you glared at his reflection. attitude written all of your face, “or are you just gonna keep hiding me every time someone knocks?” michael’s hand slid slightly higher, palm pressing flat against your stomach, pulling you back harder against the very obvious evidence of how much your attitude was affecting him. his cock throbbed painfully against you, the long separation making every second of restraint feel like torture. he wanted to punish you and worship you at the same time. torn between frustration at how you were acting while he was at a work event, and an overwhelming need to taste you. you could feel the length of him pulsating against his pants, pressed firmly against your barely covered ass. you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, your hazy mind instantly switching from rage to lust. even in your anger, your body betrayed you. craving the only man who could make you feel this alive and this broken all at once.

“such a brat” he said, voice dropping into a dangerous register youv’e never heard him use on you before. his tone thick with pent-up hunger and frustration. god, you were pushing every button he had, and some deep, possessive part of him he didn’t even know he had, was thrilled by it. his fingers teased you slightly, as he moved them across your covered skin before abruptly removing his touch. he stared at you through the mirror, eyes dark. “fix your dress,” he ordered quietly, “follow bill out to the car. i’ll be right behind you.”

you stared up at him, chest heaving, equal parts furious and desperately turned on. your heart twisted in your chest. you hated how easily he could still unravel you, how your body betrayed you with throbbing need even as your mind screamed that you deserved so much more than this. the constant hiding, the tiny scraps of his attention. after six long months of aching loneliness, here you were: soaked and shaking for the same man who kept you locked away like something shameful. it made you feel pathetic and in a weird way, powerful all at once. at least you made him tick.

“whatever” you mumbled, pouting while you smoothed your skimpy dress down. your voice came out small and whiney, but inside you were screaming. torn between wanting to scream at him and wanting him to pin you against the wall and finally give you everything you’d been missing. as you turned to leave you made sure to press up against him one last time, “asshole.” you slammed the door loudly behind you, causing bill and a few others to snap their heads towards you. michael’s worst nightmare. people taking notice of you. a dark, petty satisfaction mixed with fresh panic in your chest. part of you wanted them to see, wanted to force his hand, but the other part feared you’d just made everything worse.

bill approached you quickly, whispering “is everything okay?”

you looked at him and raised your hands and shrugged your shoulders as if to say, fuck if i know. “michael asked for me to wait in the car”

bill nodded and rubbed your shoulder gently, “c’mon lets go” as he began ushering you towards the exit. you fell into step behind him, heart racing, still burning with anger, but also thumping hard at the thought of what your night ahead looked like. this was uncharted territory, and it made you shake in anticipation.

the second you slid into the backseat you slumped back, crossing your legs deliberately as a way to try and keep yourself composed. five minutes turned into ten… which then turned into twenty. with the time passing by achingly slow, the anger started to curdle into something worse: cold, gnawing regret. what did he mean when he muttered ‘ridiculous’ as you left? what if your tipsy outburst had pushed him past his limit? the thought made your stomach twist painfully. you’d waited six months for this night, and now you might have ruined it with your big mouth and bruised pride.

with nothing to do but think, you started to sober up at the realization that michael sent you out here alone so he wouldn’t be seen leaving with you. he sent you out here so he didn’t have to deal with you. the thought made your chest tighten painfully, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you couldn’t stop yourself from biting your nails in anticipation of his arrival, nervous that you had turned him off from you for good, even though his body was saying otherwise. maybe it was too early for hangxiety, but you were beating yourself up at the fact that you chose to drunkenly confront him at his place of employment. normally you could tell what he was thinking, but not this time, and that uncertainty was slowly destroying you.

michael finally entered the vehicle after what felt like an eternity, closing the door with a quiet click that somehow felt louder than the roar of the crowd still echoing outside the arena. the privacy divider was already up. the interior was dark, cool, and smelled like leather and his cologne. the air physically got thicker with his presence, especially once he didn’t pull you into his lap immediately, like you had hoped. instead, he settled on the opposite side of the seat, leaning his head back against the headrest with his eyes closed like he was utterly exhausted from the show. or of you. normally you could tell what he was thinking, but not this time, and that uncertainty was slowly destroying you. panic bloomed in your chest. had you really broken something between you? the fear only made you more desperate for any sign that he still wanted you.

“michael,” you started, voice already pitching into a whine. no response. he just loosened the top button of his shirt and exhaled slowly. you leaned forward, glaring at him in the low light. the desperation became too overwhelming… you needed his attention. you needed to know he still wanted you, that your angry words hadn’t destroyed the fragile connection you’d been clinging to for a year and a half.

“michaelllll” you dragged out, your voice cracked with need, the anger now tangled hopelessly with fear and longing.

nothing. not even the tiniest movement from him.

you dramatically crossed your arms with a vocal hmph. inside, your heart raced with anxiety. please, just look at me, touch me, tell me i didn’t ruin everything. so pathetic. if fighting with him was the only way to get his attention, then so be it.

“so that’s it? you drag me out here after months apart, shove me in a closet like i’m some cheap groupie, and now you’re just gonna ignore me the whole ride?” you spat at him, still nothing. the silence felt like a knife twisting deeper into your chest. panic and increasing anger swirled together. he didn’t even open his eyes. the car pulled smoothly away from the venue, the city lights streaking past the tinted windows.

“you say you love me yet you act like i’m embarrassing or like it’s embarrassing to be with me” you huffed loudly, kicking off your heels and tucking your legs under you so you could turn in the seat to fully face him. “this is so unfair” you whined, “i waited forever. i was good. i didn’t tell anyone. i stayed quiet like you asked. and the second i finally get you, you treat me like i’m some… some inconvenience.” the silence stretched. you could see the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth, but he still didn’t look at you. that only made you angrier. and more afraid of his next move.

“god! what a great fucking-“ his hand moved so fast you barely registered it. the sudden touch sent a violent shock through your body. his long fingers were sliding up your bare thigh, pushing the hem of your dress higher. your breath caught hard at the feeling of palm engulfing the sensitive skin of your upper inner thigh, barely touching… teasing.

“behave,” he said quietly, voice low and commanding. his eyes were still closed, like touching you was so casual he didn’t even need to look. but his fingers kept moving.. slow, deliberate strokes along your inner thigh, inching higher with every pass. the contrast between his calm control and the storm raging inside you made everything feel more intense. desperate for more.

you whimpered, instinctively parting your legs just a little. “then pay attention to me,” you whined, pushing your hips slightly toward his hand. “you promised i would have your attention after the show. then you promised after your interview. then you said to wait for you so i waited and now you won’t even look at me? you’re so fucking infuriating i swear—” your words tumbled out in a needy, broken rush, laced with both defiance and desperation. he squeezed your thigh firmly, a warning squeeze that sent heat flooding to your core.

“i said behave, baby” you looked up from his hand to see his eyes crazed, finally looking at you. his tone was stern, and his grasp was tight.. but the way he called you ‘baby’ and the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth told you everything. he was loving this. thoroughly enjoying how undone you were, how your defiance had crumbled into desperate need for him. “you’ve been huffing and puffing since the dressing room, and i’ve had enough of that attitude.” his fingers slid higher, brushing dangerously close to where you were already soaking wet and throbbing for him. he traced light, teasing circles just under the edge of your panties but refused to go further no matter how much you squirmed.

“michael-“ you breathed, beyond desperate now. any remaining fight in you melted away as you surrendered to his touch, craving his control after fearing he was done with you. you reached for his hand, trying to guide him where you needed him most. he caught your wrist easily, pinning it to the seat beside you.

“uh-uh. you’re not in control,” he murmured. his voice was low and satisfied, “you wanted my attention? you’ve got it. but you’re gonna sit there like a good girl and behave until we get to the house. then we can deal with all this whining properly.” you let out a frustrated little whimper, hips rocking uselessly against nothing as his fingers continued their slow, maddening tease under your dress. you felt so small and needy under him. he had never been this dominant with you, and you were quickly learning that part of you loved it. the car kept gliding through the los angeles night, the city passing by like nothing was happening in the backseat. and michael? he just leaned back, closing his eyes again. perfectly composed. while you were losing your mind silently next to him.

“good girl” he murmured, the praise sending a fresh wave of submissive heat through you, mixed with relief that he still wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

the car finally rolled through the private gates, signaling our arrival. the moment the door opened, michael stepped out first, then reached back for you. before you could even say a word, he scooped you up into his arms like you weighed nothing. one arm under your knees, the other wrapped securely around your back.

“michael!” you yelped, surprised.

“quiet,” he said simply, voice low and final. you buried your face in his neck as he carried you inside, heart hammering with a dizzying mix of lingering shame and an overwhelming need to please him. the house was dark and quiet, just the faint glow of security lights guiding his way up the grand staircase. every step made you more aware of how tightly he was holding you, how strong he feels carrying you with ease.

the second he crossed the threshold of his bedroom, he kicked the door shut and pushed you up against it, hard. his mouth crashed down on yours passionately. no more teasing, no more patience. this kiss was pure hunger. he consumed you, tongue sliding deep, claiming every whimper and gasp like he owned them. and he did. his body pinned you to the wood, hips pressing forward so you could feel exactly how hard he was. you moaned into his mouth at the contact. fingers tangling in his curls, pulling him closer. in that moment you felt completely his, something you had been craving since the moment you met him.

he broke the kiss just long enough to groan against your lips, “you’ve been a real pain in my ass tonight.” he then pulled back slightly, eyes dark and intense as he raised one of his large hands. he extended his index finger right in front of your mouth.

“suck.”

the command hit you low in your belly. you didn’t hesitate, parting your lips and taking his finger into your mouth, sucking obediently while staring up at him. the slight saltiness of his finger hitting the back of your throat. you swirled your tongue around it, showing him exactly what you wanted to do to other parts of him. you felt yourself grow increasingly wet at the simple truth: you’d do anything to keep his attention on you.

michael’s eyes flared with heat, clearly reveling in your obedience. he began pushing himself further up against you, becoming desperate for some friction. “that’s it… look at you. so desperate for my attention you’ll suck on my finger like a needy little thing.” he pushed his finger deeper, slowly fucking your mouth with it. “all that whining and yelling… and now you’re soaked for me, aren’t you?”

he pulled his finger free with a wet pop, then spun you around so your plump chest pressed against the door. his hands yanked the hem of your dress up over your hips in one motion, exposing the flesh of your ass.

smack.

the sharp sting of his palm making you cry out in a half-moan half-whine. heat bloomed across your skin. any last trace of defiance melted away as you surrendered completely, desperate to be good for him.

“brat,” he murmured, voice thick with arousal as he rubbed the spot he’d just spanked. “picking fights with me at work… is that how desperate you are for my attention baby?” he spanked you again, slightly harder this time, making you moan loudly, arching your back into him.

“yes!” you gasped, the word tumbled out so easily, your voice shaky with need.

“say it,” he ordered, pressing his hard length against your ass through his pants, grinding slowly. “tell me how desperate you are.”

“i’m so desperate,” you whined, voice shaky. “i need you, mikey… i need you so bad. please-” the plea came from deep in your chest, raw and broken. shame and relief twisted together inside you. shame for how quickly you’d folded… relief that he was giving you his complete undivided attention after so long.

he chuckled darkly, smoothing his hand over the stinging skin before sliding his fingers between your thighs, teasing over your soaked panties. he pressed the wet fabric against your clit in slow, torturous circles. you were trembling against the door, hips twitching every time he grazed that swollen little bundle of nerves. you’ve never felt so unsure of his next move before… and the anticipation had you pulsating around nothing, your mind hazy with desperate submission.

“so wet for me,” he murmured, voice dark with satisfaction. he was savoring every whimper, every twitch of your body, drinking in how completely you’d given in to him. before you could register anything, he dropped to his knees behind you. you gasped as he pushed your dress up to your stomach, attaching his mouth to you instantly. hot and insistent through the thin, drenched lace of your panties. he licked long, slow stripes up your clothed pussy, sucking the soaked fabric between his lips, tasting you like he’d been starving for it.

“oh my god, michael!” your forehead pressed harder against the door as your legs shook around him. he licked faster, teasingly quick, flicking his tongue right over your clit until you were whimpering and grinding back against his face. you felt utterly owned. lost in the overwhelming pleasure when, just as suddenly, he stood up again.

“on the bed,” he ordered, voice rough. “now.”

you practically stumbled over, climbing onto his massive bed on shaky legs. he followed, shedding his shirt as he moved. you followed suit, slipping your dress off quickly as you waited for him on the bed. the way his eyes devoured you made your pulse race even faster. his hungry gaze made you feel small and desired all at once, deepening your submissive surrender. he pushed your thighs apart and settled between them, dragging your panties down and off to expose your slick heat.

at first, his tongue was slow and teasing.. lapping lazy circles around your clit, dipping inside, savoring every drop. you moaned, threading your fingers through his curls, trying to pull him closer.

then he changed pace.

he sucked your clit hard into his mouth, and at the same time pushed two long fingers deep inside you, curling them perfectly against that devastating spot. the sudden intensity ripped a broken cry from your throat as pleasure slammed into you like a tidal wave, almost too much to bear. your back arched violently off the bed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer overwhelming sensation. you moaned loud, grinding your hips down against his face shamelessly, chasing the pleasure like you were starving for it. his tongue flicked fast and merciless while his fingers fucked you deep and relentless, stroking that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes and sent white-hot ecstasy racing through every nerve in your body.

“mikey! fuck! i’m so close—“ the words came out as a desperate, sobbing plea. you were right there, trembling on the razor’s edge, every muscle tightening as the orgasm threatened to shatter you. he pulled back just as you were about to finish, leaving you empty and throbbing. the denial hit you like a physical blow. cruel, devastating, and so intense it made fresh tears spill down your cheeks. your pussy clenched around nothing, aching painfully for release.

“no,” he said calmly, lips shiny with your arousal. you let out a broken whine, hips chasing his mouth desperately, pathetically, but he just smirked. that knowing, satisfied smirk that told you he was loving every second of your torment. he gripped your hips and pushed them flush back down into the bed with ease. “that’s for calling me an asshole. bad girls don’t get to cum.”

the words burned through you, mixing sharp humiliation with a desperate, submissive thrill that made you even wetter. you were completely at his mercy, and you both knew it.

michael pushed himself up, quickly leaving your thighs and crawling over towards the top of the bed. he positioned himself so that he was leaning back against the headboard. you were still flat on your back, thighs open and trembling as you turned your head to watch him. his blown pupils met yours as he opened his legs slightly, unzipping his pants.

“come show me what a good girl you can be” he said in practically a moan, voice deep and dripping with lust.

you flipped yourself around and crawled to him eagerly, hands shaking with overwhelming need. you frantically freed his cock. his length slapped back against his stomach as he lifted himself to help you remove his pants and boxers in one go. he was rock hard, thick and flushed, the tip glistening. the sight of him, so heavy and ready, made your mouth water and your core throb with fresh desperation. you wrapped your fingers around the base and leaned down, first swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, licking up the bead of precum with a soft, needy moan. you sucked just the head into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, flicking your tongue right under the ridge the way you knew drove him crazy. you could feel the veins of his cock pulsating against your tongue. god, did you miss him. michael groaned deeply, one hand resting lightly on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

“that’s my girl… look so pretty wrapped around me.” his praise made your heart squeeze painfully with love and relief, pushing you deeper into submissive bliss. you took him deeper, sliding your lips down his shaft until he hit the back of your throat. you bobbed your head, sucking him with wet, needy, obscene sounds, eyes watering as you looked up at him through tear-lashed lashes. he moaned as he started to slowly thrust his hips up to meet your mouth, pushing himself as deep as possible while lightly pushing your head down further.

“mm, love fucking this bratty mouth” he moaned, voice rough with pleasure. you moaned around him at his words. he sounded so filthy, spewing words you never hear him utter before. the vibrations of your moans pulled a deep groan from his chest, he could feel the tight coil in his stomach start to build. “wanna cum in that pretty pussy,” he growled, pulling you off his dick with a wet pop as he leaned forward and flipped you over onto your hands and knees so fast it made your head spin. doggy style. a position the two of you had never done before.

michael usually loved watching your face as he fucked you, wanting to take in every emotion that flashed across it, wanting to look deep into your eyes as he filled you up passionately… but tonight he clearly wanted to make a point. he wanted to remind you who you belonged to.

you felt so exposed, ass up, back arched as he knelt behind you, completely vulnerable and dripping for him. michael rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down your dripping folds, teasing your entrance, tapping himself harshly against your swollen clit. every slow drag sent electricity shooting through you, the emotional intensity was almost too much to bear. you felt completely consumed by love, need, and desire.

beg,” he ordered, voice low and commanding. “tell me you’re sorry for being such a brat”

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered, pushing back against him desperately. the tone in his voice making your cunt ache. “i was being a brat, michael.. please, i need you. i’ll be good, i swear!” he pushed in just the tip, stretching you, then stopped again.

“louder.”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry michael, please fuck me. i need your cock so bad daddy—” the word slipped out raw and needy, your voice breaking with desperation. he slapped your ass at the nickname and with one deep thrust he buried himself to the hilt. the stretch was perfectly overwhelming. a burning, delicious fullness that stole the air from your lungs. you cried out in pleasure as he started moving, giving you no time to adjust to his size like he normally does. every brutal thrust sent shockwaves through your body, the wet slap of skin on skin and the obscene squelch of your soaked pussy filling the room.

his tempo was relentless, pulling all the way out until just the tip was stretching you, then slamming back in… again and again… slow, devastating withdrawals followed by brutal, deep strokes that knocked the breath out of you each time.

“fuck! michael!” you cried out, fingers twisting in the sheets. he reached forward and tangled his hand in your hair, tugging your head back firmly. the pull arched your back deeper, forcing you to take every inch as he claimed you completely. the overwhelming sensation of being so full, so dominated, so consumed by him, made tears spill down your cheeks.

“missed this pussy so much,” he growled, voice rough with pleasure as he drove into you. “missed you. every single night on tour i was thinking about you, baby.” his words hit you like a punch to the chest, the raw emotion in his voice mixing with the relentless pounding of his cock, making the pleasure almost unbearable. he slammed into you again, grinding deep before pulling out and repeating the motion. tears spilling from your eyes from the intensity, but it felt so good you couldn’t do or say anything other than cry and moan as he fucked you like he never has before. “that’s it,” he growled. “take it. take every inch like the good girl you claim to be.”

your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and washed over you without warning. vision whitening as your walls clenched violently around his thick cock, wave after wave of blinding pleasure crashing through you. your whole body shook uncontrollably as you cried out his name like a prayer. he didn’t stop, fucking you through it with deep, punishing strokes, chasing his own release. you yelped as he reached between your thighs with his free hand, grazing where the two of you were connected with his long fingers. keeping the same intensity, still fucking you hard, he wiped up some of your cum and started sucking on his fingers.. tasting you.. the filthy sound of him savoring you only made him slam into your spent and sensitive pussy even harder, his growl vibrating against your back.

“good girl,” he rasped, as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and attached them to your pulsating clit. the hand in your hair tugged a little harder, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. you were helpless, arched, and utterly his. “you’re all mine. this tight pussy is all mine. mm love how you squeeze around me… so fucking perfect.” his voice was dark velvet, dripping with possessive satisfaction as he felt you fluttering around his cock.

you whimpered loudly, legs still shaking from your orgasm, “yours.. i’m yours” was all you managed to get out. the overstimulation caused your mind to go blank, nothing existing except the burning stretch of him inside you and the crushing weight of how completely he owned your body and soul. his fingers went back down and rubbed your clit at a rapid pace, like he didn’t care that you had just finished around him, like he was determined to break you apart again.

he released your hair and attached the now free hand to your tit, squeezing and pulling your nipple between his fingers. he leaned over you, chest pressed flush to your back as he continued fucking you from behind. the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, the relentless slap of his hips against your ass… it was all too much. every sense was flooded by him. you could smell his sweat and cologne, feel every ridge of his cock dragging inside you, hear his ragged breathing in your ear. you were drowning in him, consumed entirely, and he was just as lost in you. the sensation of him slamming into you mixed with his assault on your clit and nipples becoming too much for you as you started feeling another orgasm creep into your belly. the pressure built impossibly fast, bordering on painful pleasure, your body trembling violently as another devastating climax threatened to rip you apart while he fucked you like he never wanted to stop.

“fuck. fuck i’m gonna cum again” you warned. your voice was completely wrecked. he instantly let go of your nipple and stopped rubbing your clit, causing you to sob out.

“no please.. please” desperate to release, your body shaking violently as another orgasm hovered just out of reach, the denial tearing through you like fire. michael chuckled darkly, straightening up again and this time moved his hand to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but possessive.

“you’ll cum when i say you can” he growled, pushing his cock as deep as possible without pulling out. instead he started grinding his hips in slow, devastating circular motions from behind you, swirling the thick head of his dick against your cervix. the pressure was exquisite, every roll of his hips dragging against that deepest, most sensitive spot inside you. the noises that fell from your mouth were unholy. your pussy tightened around him desperately, fighting your climax.

“i love you like this. whiny, spoiled, desperate… i love every part of you.” michael whispered hotly in your ear, his voice rough with emotion and lust. before gently lifting you by your neck so that you were flush against him. both of you on your knees, your back pressed tight against his sweat-slicked chest as he kept one hand around your throat and the other on your hip so he could slam your hips back to meet each one of his frantic thrusts. the new angle made him feel impossibly deeper, thicker, like he was reaching parts of you no one else ever could. after months of aching emptiness and today’s painful fighting, this felt like pure reclamation, for the both you. the tightness in your stomach only intensified, you moaned loudly against him, trying your hardest to keep yourself from spilling around his cock. every powerful stroke dragged you closer to the edge while his hand on your throat reminded you exactly who you belonged to.

“i’m done hiding you” michael moaned in your ear, his lips grazing your earlobe as his thrusts became erratic, signaling he was close himself.

“i’m done with all the sneaking around. i don’t care anymore. i want them to know. want them to know you’re mine.” his words hit you harder than the thrusts, cracking something open inside your chest. hearing him claim you out loud sent a fresh wave of overwhelming heat and emotion crashing through you. he fucked you even harder, like he was pouring every missed night, every hidden moment, every ounce of love and frustration into your body.

“michael please! oh god—” you begged. he groaned deeply, hips stuttering as he got close.

“gonna fill you up, baby. want you dripping with me… cum with me.” with a few final, punishing thrusts, he buried himself as deep as possible and came hard, as did you. you clenched impossibly tight around his throbbing shaft, feeling every thick pulse, every hot spurt as he flooded you, forcing his cum deeper and deeper inside you while grinding his hips against your ass to push it as far as it would go.

“fuck… that’s it,” he breathed, voice hoarse with satisfaction. “take every drop. want you always, no matter what. you’re mine.” michael stayed buried deep inside you for a few more moments, both of you trembling, hearts pounding in sync as you clung to each other like you’d never let go again. he pulled out slowly, a soft groan leaving his lips as he watched his cum drip down your thighs. the sight seemed to satisfy something primal in him. he then gently flipped you onto your back and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms.

“come here, baby,” he whispered, voice soft and warm now. all the dominant edge had melted away, leaving only the gentle, loving man you’d missed so desperately.

he wrapped himself around you completely, one arm under your head, the other stroking slow, soothing circles up and down your back. his skin was still warm and slightly damp from exertion, his heartbeat strong and steady against your cheek. michael slowly leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose… tiny apologies and promises all at once. each one healing the wounds from today’s fights and the months of distance. you curled into his chest, still trembling from everything. he pulled you in even closer, holding you tightly, tucking your head under his chin like he never wanted to let go again.

“you okay baby?” he asked quietly, fingers gently combing through your messy hair. “i wasn’t too rough?” his voice carried genuine concern, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in his world.

“i’m perfect,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. “that was crazy.. in the best way.”

he let out a soft, relieved chuckle as he kissed the top of your head again. his hand never stopped its gentle stroking along your spine, warm and comforting. the steady rhythm grounded you, washing away the last remnants of anger and insecurity.

“i love you,” he said after a quiet moment, the words simple and sincere. “not just when you’re being good…” you chuckled against him, playfully swatting his chest. he laughed with you, tilting his head down to look at you. your eyes moved up to meet his, giving him a second to collect his thoughts.

“i love your fire. i love how you push me. i love how you make me feel alive even when the whole world feels heavy… you’re the only person who sees me. not the money, not the fame, not the ‘king of pop’… just michael. and i don’t take that for granted. not for one second.” his voice cracked slightly with emotion, years of carrying the weight of fame finally shared with the one person who truly saw him.

you felt tears prick at your eyes, looking up at the man who owned every inch of your heart. he reached down to caress your cheek with his thumb, the look of pure vulnerability and passion in his big brown eyes stripping away every last wall between you.

“i’m sorry being with me isn’t easy,” he continued, voice thick with emotion. his arms tightened around you protectively, as if he was trying to shield you from the pain he’s caused, “the hiding, the secrecy, the tours… not being fully integrated into each others lives… i know it hurts you.” he paused, wiping a stray tear from your eyes with such tenderness it made your chest ache. “most importantly, i’m sorry for making you feel like a burden. like an embarrassment. i’m so sorry baby. i never wanted to make you feel that way.”

“it’s okay baby” you whispered in response to him, reaching up to play with his sweaty loose curls that were enveloping his beautifully flushed face. “i knew what i was getting myself into when this started. i shouldn’t haveyelled at you.. especially while you’re just doing your job. i’m sorry too.”

michael shook his head at your words, “you don’t deserve to be treated that way,” he tilted your chin up so he could look deeper into your eyes, his own dark and sincere. “i meant what i said earlier. i’m done hiding you. i want the world to know you’re mine. we’ll figure out how to do it right, together. completely on our terms, when you’re ready. no more being confined to dressing rooms. no more closets. no more waiting in cars. i want to show you off. i want everyone to see the woman who makes me the happiest i’ve ever been.” his voice was filled with quiet determination, the kind of promise that healed every crack today had made.

you smiled up at him, heart completely and utterly full. “really?”

“really.” he leaned down and kissed you slowly, tenderly, pouring every ounce of love, regret, and devotion into it. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “i promise to give you all of me now. every piece.”

you stayed like that for a long time, tangled together under the sheets, legs intertwined. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin while you whispered soft promises and shared gentle kisses. it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with him. two hearts finally laying everything bare after spending so long apart. in his arms, you felt completely seen, completely loved, and completely home.

“i love you too,” you whispered against his lips. “even when you’re being an asshole.” michael laughed softly at your joke, the sound warm and beautiful as he pulled the covers higher around you both.