Summary: (Y/N) stumbles upon some disturbing posts that make her sad and insecure. Michael is there to help her feel good again.
Based on Angst Prompt #42: "I am not good enough for you.", 100 ways to say I love you Prompt #39" Don't cry," Sexual Prompts #47: "Daddy loves you." and #62: "Open your legs." (Smut / Oral; Female Receiving / Fingering / Daddy Kink / Slight Degradation)
This is an NSFW story. If you feel uncomfortable reading stories like this one, please scroll through my works to find something you might like.
(Request) (Words: 3.3k)
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I know better than to lurk online, looking deep into the Tumblr pages. But it all started so innocently; one moment I was looking for Michael pictures from past tours, and then I found the fan theories. I told myself not to, I told myself that it would only hurt me, as it has done in the past, but my heart pounding in my chest drove my hand to click on the username.
Even then, there was still time for me to back away, but by then, the inner voice had taken over and all rationale flew out of the window. I searched for Michael's name on the blog and more posts than I had the energy to count popped up.
My heart ached from the very first words, the very first assurance that I am not good enough to be by Michael's side. I felt numb, for a moment my body going stiff, but soon after everything became heavy.
I am not enough for him, that much I knew. But I have been trying my hardest to become better because he makes me want to become better, and it hurts that I will never be good enough to be with him, it hurts knowing that. His fans constantly pointing it out is a different type of pain; the people that supposedly love him, talking about me in such a derogatory way, about my body, about my face, about my intentions. I have been called fat, ugly, gold-digger, fame-seeker, I have been called disgusting, and hideous, and all that, on top of the constant pairing edits they make with women hotter than me and the never-ending comparison with his ex... I knew what I signed up for when I started dating him, but this is getting out of hand.
I was hoping that until Michael would be home, I would be long asleep. But here I am, still awake and hearing his keys on the door. He said he would be home late, that recording would take too long, so why is he home so early?I shut my eyes tightly, burying my face in my pillow and hoping he is too tired to check if I am awake.
"Princess..." He sings softly, stroking my arm with his knuckles. I pretend I am too deep in sleep, but Michael continues.
"Babe, wake up. I brought Thai..." He pecks my shoulder cap, moving my hair out of the way, and bringing his lips to the base of my neck. As much as I would want to stay still, the back of my neck is one of my most ticklish spots, so I stir and try to muffle a giggle.
"Come on, get up. Let's have a bite."
"What time is it?" I ask, faking a groggy, sleepy voice.
"11. Come on. Let's go downstairs and eat. Or should I bring it upstairs?" He asks. I love how lively he is, even after hours and hours in the studio.
"Why did you bring Thai?" I ask him, slipping into my slippers.
"I was hungry for Thai... And it would be pretty rude if I only brought food for myself." He replies, stripping off his clothes.
"I am not that hungry." I mumble and he scoffs.
"You will be by the time I am done showering. I will try to be quick." He replies, leaning down to peck on my forehead, picking up his clothes as well to throw them in the hamper. I draw in a deep breath, pressing my hand against my forehead. I have to pull myself together and pretend everything is fine for Michael; he has too much on his plate now for me to add my problems to it. I pick up my phone, unlocking it to erase all traces that I ever dived so deep into the hate comments. My heart speeds up as I catch a quick glimpse of the words on my screen. I tighten my jaw and terminate the app, throwing my phone across the bed. I bring my legs to my chest, closing my eyes and trying to focus on my breathing, get to my happy place before Michael gets out of the shower.
I smile at him as he walks out of the ensuite bathroom, humming a little tune.
"Everything ok?" He asks, opening the drawer to pick up some briefs.
"Yep." I pop the p, trying to sound cheery.
"You sure?" He asks again and I hum.
"Yeah, why?" I ask him; he knows me too well, but I thought I could hide from him, at least for a little bit.
"You are sitting like a fetus." He points out and I exhale in realization.
"I was trying to not lay back down. I am a tad bit too sleepy. Maybe you should eat by yourself tonight..." I suggest and he shakes his head.
"Nope. Come on... I want you to hear about a tune I put together." He holds his hand out for me, which I take it reluctantly and get off the bed.
