Summary: Michael Jackson had never heard of you until tonight. But the second your name echoed through the Grammys for winning Best New Artist, everything around him seemed to blur. Your beauty caught his attention instantly, but it was your voice…soft, graceful, real-
that left him completely captivated.
Contains: yearning, soft tension, vulnerable Michael, admiration turning into obsession, slow burn, more possessive Micheal, smut, kissing, romance, and slight mention of breeding
I recommend reading part 1 before this part
That was how long it had been since Michael last saw you.
Months since the Grammys.
Months since hearing your voice for the very first time.
Months since that single moment backstage that somehow stayed trapped inside his mind no matter how hard he tried to move on from it.
Michael Jackson was used to admiration. Used to beautiful women trying to get close to him. Used to people chasing his attention.
But you were different because you never chased him at all.
You barely even looked at him.
And somehow that made him want you more.
Michael sat alone inside the recording studio late one night, fingers tapping softly against the armrest of his chair while a rough instrumental played quietly through the speakers.
Usually music came naturally to him.
But lately every song felt unfinished.
“Mike?” Quincy called from across the studio booth. “You listening?”
Michael blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
Quincy raised an eyebrow knowingly. “You’ve been distracted all week.”
Michael sighed quietly, leaning back in his chair.
“You keep replaying that girl’s demo.”
Michael immediately looked away.
The silence itself was enough of an answer.
A small smile pulled onto Quincy’s face.
“So that’s what this is about.”
Michael rubbed his hand across his mouth awkwardly.
“Mhm.” Quincy chuckled. “You only asked me to replay her vocals fifteen times yesterday.”
Michael ignored the comment, though the tips of his ears turned slightly pink. He hated how obvious this had become. Because the truth was… he had become obsessed with your voice.
At least that’s what he told himself.
But there was something about the softness in your tone that pulled him in completely. It sounded emotional without trying too hard. Gentle. Honest.
Michael spent weeks secretly following your career from afar.
Watching every interview he could find.
Listening to your songs late at night.
Reading articles about you while sitting alone in hotel rooms after performances.
And every time he learned something new about you, the feeling in his chest only grew worse.
You laughed loudly when nervous.
You tucked your hair behind your ear constantly during interviews.
Michael noticed everything.
Sometimes he caught himself wondering ridiculous things about you too.
What perfume did you wear every day?
Did you sing absentmindedly around the house?
Did your voice sound softer in the mornings?
“You should just meet her already,” Quincy said casually.
Michael looked down immediately.
“…What if she doesn’t like me?”
Quincy nearly laughed. “Michael, you are Michael Jackson.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
And strangely… Michael meant that.
People loved the performer.
But Michael always wondered if anyone could genuinely love him.
That was what scared him most about meeting you.
Because for the first time in years… he actually cared what someone thought about him.
“I finally made it…” I whispered quietly to myself while staring around the huge recording studio.
People rushed around carrying equipment while music blasted softly through giant speakers overhead. Dancers stretched near mirrors while producers talked over one another. Everything moved so fast it almost made my head spin.
I still wasn’t used to any of this.
Ten months ago I was singing inside a tiny café just to make enough money to survive after moving to America.
Now I was standing in Los Angeles preparing to work with one of the biggest artists in the world.
I turned at the sound of John’s voice.
He walked over quickly, excitement practically written all over his face.
“A little?” I admitted. “Okay… a lot.”
John laughed softly. “Relax. You’re gonna be great.” I looked around anxiously.
“What if he hates my voice?”
“Trust me,” John said confidently, “Michael specifically asked for you.”
“After the Grammys, actually.”
I remembered seeing Michael Jackson there briefly that night, though we never spoke.
Honestly, I didn’t even think he noticed me.
Before I could ask anything else, the studio suddenly grew quieter around us. People began moving aside respectfully.
Michael Jackson stood near the center of the room wearing a black jacket with dark sunglasses resting over his eyes. His curls framed his face perfectly while he spoke softly to someone beside him.
He looked smaller in person somehow.
Not physically—just… calmer. More human than he appeared on television.
Even from across the room, I noticed the slight change in his expression.
Like he forgot what he was saying completely.
The room continued moving around him, but Michael stayed perfectly still staring directly at me. His eyes slowly moved across my face like he was trying to make sure I was real.
My stomach tightened nervously.
John leaned closer to me and whispered quietly, “Told you he’d be excited.”
Michael finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and quickly removed his sunglasses.
For a second he looked nervous.
Which shocked me considering this was Michael Jackson.
He began walking toward us slowly, hands tucked awkwardly into his pockets.
The closer he got, the more I noticed little things about him.
The slight shyness in his posture.
The way he kept licking his lips nervously before speaking.
Then he finally stopped in front of me.
Up close, he smelled clean and expensive, something warm mixed with cologne.
His voice was much gentler in person.
Michael stared at me for maybe a second too long before quickly looking down with a shy laugh.
“You’re… uh…” He cleared his throat softly. “You’re even prettier than I remembered.”
John immediately smirked beside me while my cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
Michael seemed embarrassed too after realizing he said that out loud.
“I mean, uh welcome,” he corrected quickly. “I’m happy you came.”
I laughed softly, finally relaxing a little.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
Michael smiled at that. A real smile this time.
And something about it made my chest feel strangely warm.
What I didn’t notice though…
Was the way Michael looked at me like he had already become completely fascinated.
Like he finally found the muse he’d been searching for.
The next few months passed in a blur of music, cameras, rehearsals, and sleepless nights.
Working with Michael quickly became more than just a collaboration.
At first, the two of you barely spoke outside of rehearsals. Michael stayed quiet most days, shy in a way nobody expected him to be. He’d greet you softly every morning, ask if you’d eaten yet, then disappear into work before anyone could tease him too much.
But little by little, he started opening up.
It began with small things.
Him sitting beside you instead of across the room. Sharing snacks during late studio sessions. Quiet conversations while everyone else packed up for the night.
Soon, hours around each other started feeling natural.
“You two are together more than actual couples,” one makeup artist joked one afternoon while fixing your hair.
Michael nearly dropped the drink in his hand while you laughed awkwardly.
“We’re just working together,” I said quickly.
“Mhmm,” she hummed sarcastically before walking away.
Michael stayed suspiciously quiet afterward.
And honestly… that should’ve been my first clue. Because the truth was, Michael had started centering his entire day around you without realizing it.
If you weren’t at rehearsal yet, he noticed immediately.
If you looked tired, he worried the entire day.
If you laughed at another man’s joke too long, his mood shifted instantly.
Nobody understood how someone so adored by the world could become so soft over one girl.
Because for the first time in a very long time… someone made him feel human again.
The song you both were working on became huge before it even released.
Every producer in the building talked about the chemistry between your voices.
And honestly… they were right.
Whenever you sang together, something shifted in the room. It felt intimate without trying to be. One night during rehearsal, you stood inside the booth recording harmonies while Michael sat quietly behind the glass watching you, Completely focused.
You looked beautiful under the dim studio lights.
Headphones over your ears.
Softly swaying while singing your verse.
Michael barely noticed Quincy speaking beside him.
“She’s good, huh?” Quincy said casually.
Michael looked away immediately. “I like working with her.”
“…I think about her constantly.”
Quincy laughed softly. “Finally admitting it?”
Michael rubbed his hands together nervously.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Because these feelings felt stronger than anything Michael was used to.
You weren’t just some crush.
You had become part of his routine.
And every day he wanted more.
Meanwhile, I stayed completely oblivious.
Sure, Michael was sweet to me.
But he was Michael Jackson.
There was no way someone like him would genuinely be interested in me like that.
So every compliment, every soft stare, every lingering touch…I brushed it off as him simply being kind. Even when he started calling me late at night just to “talk about music.”
Those phone calls somehow turned into hours. “You still awake?” Michael asked softly through the phone one night around 2 AM.
I laughed quietly while laying in bed. “Michael, it’s literally two in the morning.”
“Then why are you awake?”
“…Couldn’t stop thinking.”
And deep down, Michael knew he was falling too hard.
The tension between you finally started becoming obvious during a rehearsal for the music video.
The scene itself wasn’t even romantic.
Michael’s hand rested against your waist while cameras prepared angles around you both.
The director adjusted something before calling out, “Alright! Stay close like that.”
You looked up at him innocently.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Why?”
“You’re squeezing my waist.”
Michael immediately loosened his grip like he’d been burned.
But the damage was already done.
Because now all he could think about was how soft you felt beneath his hands.
How good you smelled standing this close.
How easy it would be to lean down just a little more—
“Cut!” the director yelled suddenly.
Michael stepped away immediately, running a nervous hand through his curls.
The rest of rehearsal became torture for him after that.
Because every accidental touch between you felt too intense now.
And he was starting to lose control over hiding it.
Things finally exploded at the celebrity party.
The mansion was packed with actors, singers, models, everyone loud and glamorous and impossible to ignore. Music blasted through the house while cameras flashed outside nonstop.
Michael already hated being there.
But seeing another celebrity get comfortable with you pushed him over the edge completely.
The actor kept making you laugh.
And Michael watched the entire thing from across the room silently.
His jaw tightened harder every minute.
“Mike,” Quincy warned quietly beside him. “Relax.”
“You’ve been staring at them for fifteen minutes.”
Michael looked away briefly before muttering, “He keeps touching her.”
Quincy sighed. “Because he likes her.”
Those words hit Michael harder than expected.
Someone else liking you suddenly felt unbearable.
Because what if someone else got to you first? What if someone else became the person who made you smile every day?
The thought alone made his stomach twist painfully. Then suddenly he watched the actor lean down toward your ear to whisper something.
Before he could stop himself, he crossed the room quickly.
“Y/N,” he interrupted softly.
I turned immediately, smiling once I saw him.
The actor looked slightly annoyed by the interruption.
Michael ignored him completely.
“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”
Something in his voice sounded different.
The second you both stepped outside onto the balcony, the cold air hit your skin instantly.
Michael stayed quiet at first, pacing slightly while running his hands nervously over his jacket.
I frowned. “Michael, what’s wrong?”
“I know.” He sighed heavily before finally stopping. “I’m trying not to.”
Michael looked at you then.
His expression held something intense now. Something emotional and messy and impossible to hide anymore.
“That guy in there,” he said quietly. “Do you like him?”
“No?” I laughed nervously. “Michael, I just met him.”
The relief on his face appeared instantly before disappearing just as fast.
He looked down at the floor for a moment, gathering courage.
“I don’t like seeing other men around you.”
The confession made my heart skip.
Michael stepped closer slowly.
“I tried ignoring it,” he admitted softly. “I tried telling myself this was just work and that I was being ridiculous but…”
He shook his head quietly.
“It’s not just work anymore.”
My chest tightened hearing him say that.
“You make me nervous,” he continued with a soft laugh. “And nobody makes me nervous.”
I smiled a little. “Michael Jackson gets nervous?”
“All the time around you.”
The honesty in his voice made my stomach flutter. For a second neither of us spoke.
The tension between you suddenly felt impossible to ignore now.
Michael looked down briefly at your lips before quickly looking away again like he hated himself for doing it.
And somehow… that small action told you everything.
“I don’t wanna scare you away,” he admitted quietly. “That’s why I never said anything.”
“You could never scare me away.”
Michael’s eyes lifted back to yours instantly.
The look on his face softened completely after hearing that.
Then slowly, carefully he reached for your hand.
His fingers trembled slightly when they intertwined with yours.
“Come to dinner with me tomorrow,” he whispered. “Please.”
I squeezed his hand gently.
For the first time all night, Michael smiled fully.
Not the performer’s smile.
And standing there beneath the city lights, hand in hand with you, Michael realized something terrifyingly simple.
He was completely in love with you.
Dinner with Michael was supposed to be simple.
At least that’s what I told myself while sitting across from him at one of the most beautiful restaurants I had ever seen.
Soft candlelight flickered between us while quiet music played in the background. Michael looked calmer tonight, less like the superstar the world knew and more like just… Michael.
“You’re staring again,” I teased softly before taking another sip of my drink.
Michael blinked quickly, embarrassed after getting caught.
“Sorry,” he laughed quietly, looking down at his plate. “I don’t mean to.”
That made him laugh harder this time. A real laugh.
The entire night felt easy.
You talked about everything.
At some point dinner stopped feeling like a date and started feeling like something deeper. Like the two of you had known each other far longer than only a few months.
Michael watched you while you spoke like he never wanted the night to end.
When the restaurant started becoming crowded with paparazzi outside, Michael quietly suggested leaving.
“I know somewhere quieter,” he said softly.
“If you wanna keep talking.”
Michael’s home felt surprisingly warm.
Not cold or overly fancy like I expected.
The staff gave you both privacy while Michael led you toward a quieter dining area overlooking huge windows and soft city lights outside.
“You hungry still?” he asked shyly.
I laughed softly. “Michael, we literally just ate.”
“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly. “Right.”
“A little?” I teased. “You can perform in front of millions of people but I make you nervous?” Michael leaned against the counter quietly, staring at you for a moment before answering honestly.
“You make me more nervous than millions of people.” The confession instantly changed the atmosphere between you.
Everything suddenly felt softer. Closer.
Michael slowly walked toward you until only a small space remained between your bodies.
“I try really hard to act normal around you,” he admitted quietly. “But it’s difficult sometimes.”
His eyes flickered down toward your lips for half a second before meeting your gaze again.
“Because I want to kiss you almost all the time.”
My breath caught instantly.
The honesty in his voice made my stomach twist nervously in the best way possible.
Michael looked terrified after admitting it, like he was waiting for me to pull away.
Instead, I stepped closer.
“You can,” I whispered softly.
Michael stared at me for a second like he couldn’t believe what he heard.
Then slowly, carefully his hand lifted to my waist.
Soft enough to make my chest ache.
Michael kissed like he handled everything delicately, like he was scared of ruining the moment if he moved too fast. But the longer it lasted, the harder it became for him to hide how badly he wanted me close.
His hands tightened slightly against my waist while mine slid up against his chest.
And suddenly months of tension finally crashed between you both at once.
The kisses became deeper.
Michael pulled away only long enough to rest his forehead against mine, breathing unevenly.
“God…” he whispered shakily. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I smiled softly, fingers brushing against his curls.
The air between you and Michael felt different now.
He was still holding your waist gently, forehead resting against yours while both of you tried to catch your breath.
Neither of you spoke for a moment.
The silence itself felt intimate.
Michael’s thumb slowly brushed against your side beneath the fabric of your outfit, and the tiny motion alone made your heart race all over again.
“You’re trouble,” he murmured softly, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, you.” He smiled faintly before shaking his head. “You don’t even realize what you do to me.”
The way he looked at you made your stomach tighten.
Something deeper than that.
Like he’d been holding these feelings in for months and didn’t know how to stop them from pouring out now.
“You make it really hard for me to stay calm,” he admitted.
My cheeks warmed instantly. “Michael…”
“No, seriously,” he continued softly, almost laughing at himself. “I had this whole night planned out in my head.”
“Mhm.” He nodded. “I was gonna be a gentleman. Real smooth. Thought I’d take you to dinner, bring you home, maybe kiss you once at the door.”
Michael’s eyes dropped toward your lips again before he sighed quietly.
“Now I can barely think straight.”
The honesty in his voice made your chest flutter.
Slowly, your fingers moved up the front of his shirt, smoothing against the fabric while his breathing visibly changed.
Michael closed his eyes briefly like he was trying to regain control of himself.
“You’re dangerous,” he whispered.
That made him laugh softly before his hands slid carefully around your waist again, pulling you a little closer this time.
The closeness made the tension between you almost unbearable.
“You smell good,” he murmured absentmindedly against your hair.
I laughed quietly. “You always say that.”
“Because it drives me crazy.”
The confession came out before he could stop it.
Michael looked embarrassed immediately afterward, but you only smiled wider.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“You’re literally shaking.”
Michael groaned softly, dropping his head against your shoulder while you laughed.
“Stop teasing me,” he mumbled.
The second the words left your mouth, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Michael slowly lifted his head again, eyes darker now, more intense than before.
For the first time all night, he looked at you without hiding how badly he wanted you close.
And somehow… that look alone stole the air from your lungs.
“You should be careful saying things like that to me,” he said quietly.
My heart pounded harder. “Why?”
Michael stepped forward until your back lightly pressed against the counter behind you.
Just close enough to make your breath catch.
“Because I’m trying very hard to be good right now,” he admitted softly.
The tension between you both felt unbearable now.
Every glance lasted too long.
Every breath felt shared.
Then finally, Michael reached up slowly, brushing a curl away from your face with trembling fingers.
“So pretty,” he whispered almost to himself.
And the way he said it, so soft, so genuine—made your entire chest ache.
Because somehow, underneath all the tension and longing and heated stares…
Michael was already loving you far more deeply than either of you realized.
The next thing I knew, Michael had me pressed gently against the mattress, both of us breathless- crying, sobbing into the pillows as he works his long firm fingers into my puffy pussy.
My hands gripped the sheets beneath me as I tried to steady my breathing, but every touch from him made it impossible to think clearly.
“I can’t- Micheal please!” I sobbed out.
He kept thrusting into me, leaning closer behind me, one hand holding my waist carefully while his lips brushed near my ear.
“Keep saying my name like that,” he murmured softly, his voice deeper than before. “You have no idea what you do to me.” he nearly sounds like he was going to organism on the spot just from me moaning his name, The desperation in his voice only made my heart race faster.
Months of pretending the tension between you didn’t exist.
Now it was all spilling out at once.
He kept thrusting into me, increasing his speed even more both of us was gasping and moaning each other name.. like dogs in heat..
Michael kissed along your shoulder slowly, trying so hard to stay gentle, but every soft sound leaving your lips seemed to destroy whatever control he had left.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted breathlessly.
I turned slightly toward him, fingers gripping his arms tighter.
“Then stop holding back.”
Michael let out a shaky breath before pulling you closer against him, forehead resting briefly against your shoulder like he was trying to calm himself down.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
The honesty in his voice made your chest ache.
Not because of lust alone because underneath all the heat and tension was something emotional. Something intense.
Michael touched you like someone terrified of losing you.
Like someone who had spent months memorizing every laugh, every smile, every little detail about you and still couldn’t get enough.
“Mi- Micheal please.. I’m think- I think I’m going t-“ I couldn’t even speak properly..
“Not yet baby.. please not yet, I want to feel you come on my cock” he says so deeply in my ear.
His voice sounds deeper and soft more hungry for me.. he pulls out his fingers and turns me over, licking my juices off his fingers.
He lines his cock against my entrance as he begins to slowly push in.
“F- fuck! Ur so tight..” he says softly, he grips my legs as he pushes his full length inside of me.
“Ah- fuck Micheal it feels so good!” I couldn’t help but moan his name over and over like a spell. He is thrusting into me so hard… he driving me insane!
“Baby say my name…” I whispers in my ear
“MICHEAL PLEASE!!!” I moaned.
He groans and push my legs back and spread me open even more, being more rougher with me, he is driving into me like
He scared if he don’t, he’ll lose me.
“Baby you’re driving me insane, you keep clutching down on me.. getting so tight for me, baby are u going to come?” He says thrusting even faster than before..
“Yes I am!” I moaned out grabbing onto his arms as he fucks me shamelessly
“Look at me,” he whispered softly.
When you turned toward him, his expression nearly stole the air from your lungs.
Messy curls falling into his face.
Lips slightly swollen from kissing you.
Eyes completely overwhelmed with emotion and want.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he was saying it to himself.
Then he kissed you again, deeper this time, more desperate while his hands held you impossibly close like he never wanted space between you again.
And somewhere between tangled sheets, shaky breaths, and whispered confessions against skin…
The two of you stopped feeling like separate people entirely.
“Then come for me” was the last thing I heard as I let out my organism.
Last thing I remember was Michael pushing deeper into me, breeding me, filling me full of him..
Like we’re one… I was finally his and he made himself mines.
