Tamed at neverland
18+ smut
Pairing: dom!mature mike 2000โs era x bratty sub!reader.
Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you run back to Neverland, where you've been working as the nanny for Michaelโs kids. Michael uses his calm, dominant authority to pull the truth out of you, promises his lawyers will handle your ex, and takes total control. The built-up sexual tension finally breaks, ending with Michael completely claiming you as his.
18+ smut , mentioning mama, baby, angel , bratty reader , dom!โmike, sub-brattt!reader, a loooot of sexual tention, baby sitter , dirty talk , p in v , fingering, cumming , cheating, age gap , little bit fluff i guess not really , mature mike with plot A LOT MORE !!
The wrought-iron gates of Neverland Ranch swung open, welcoming you to what was supposed to be a temporary three-month nanny gig for Prince, Paris, and Bigi. At twenty-three, you were vibrant, opinionated, and relentlessly brattyโaccustomed to whining until you got your way, flouting small rules, and demanding total attention. Yet, beneath the cheekiness, you took genuine care of the kids, which was why Michael toleratedโand secretly adoredโyour spoiled antics.
The Quiet After-Hours
Every evening, once the children were tucked into bed, your shift technically ended. But you rarely left right away. Instead, youโd trail into the main living room, kicking off your shoes and curling up on the plush sofa beside Michael.
Over steamy mugs of chamomile tea, a deep bond began to form. You found yourself pouring your heart out about your personal life, specifically your stagnant, frustrating relationship.
"He's just so distant, Mike," you complained one night, tossing your head back with a loud, dramatically exaggerated groan. "We barely talk, he ignores my calls, and he treats me like an afterthought!"
Michael sat beside you, impeccably dressed in a loose red silk shirt, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intense, quiet gravity. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice a low, soothing rasp. "Heโs no good for you. A man who truly loves a woman doesn't make her feel invisible. You should have left him months ago."
"It's not that simple!" you pouted, crossing your arms and puffing out your chest. "We just bought a house together! The mortgage is in both our names, and breaking that contract is a total nightmare. I'm stuck."
Michael leaned in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto yours. A dark, calculating flicker passed through his eyesโa quiet patience. He knew the boy was a fool, and he was simply waiting for the inevitable collapse.
"You're never stuck," Michael murmured, his thumb briefly, almost casually, tracing the line of your jaw, leaving your skin tingling long after his hand retreated. "You just need a man who knows how to handle you."
The Arrangement
A few weeks later, Michael called you into his office. He explained that his schedule was about to explode with upcoming tour preparations and late-night studio sessions. He needed you to start sleeping over at the ranch three to four nights a week to keep the children's routine stable.
"Fine," you huffed, leaning against his mahogany desk, twirling a lock of your hair and putting on your usual spoiled routine. "I'll do it. But only if I get the best guest room in the house. The big one right down the hall from your master suite. With the king bed and the balcony. Otherwise, no deal."
Michael chuckled, a smooth, deep sound that vibrated right through you. He stood up, slowly towering over your smaller frame, his mature presence instantly dwarfing your bratty defiance.
"You think you can make demands in my house, do you?" he asked smoothly, stepping so close you had to tilt your head back to look at him. His hand came up, long fingers cupping the back of your neck firmly, holding you in place. "You'll sleep where I put you, little girl. But luckily for you... I already had that exact room prepared for you."
Your heart did a sudden, violent flip against your ribs.
Rising Temperatures
Over the next month, the domestic intimacy between you blurred the lines beyond repair.
One afternoon, Michael called you into his dressing room to help him pick an outfit for a press meeting. You stood there, complaining loudly about his velvet jackets being too formal, when the bathroom door opened. Michael walked out wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his hips, steam billowing out behind him. Droplets of water glistened on his chest and trickled down his stomach.
You froze, your mouth going dry, your bratty attitude completely evaporating. Michael noticed your wide-eyed gaze, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his lips as he deliberately took his time selecting a shirt right in front of you.
Another morning at 6:00 AM, he requested your presence in his bedroom to discuss the kids' weekend schedule. You opened the door to find him lounging under the silk sheets, bare-chested, wearing only his black drawers.
"Come sit," he commanded softly, patting the edge of the mattress.
You tiptoed over, sitting on the very edge of the bed, intensely aware of his long, muscular legs just inches from yours. As you talked, Michael reached out, casually pulling you back until you were half-reclining against his chest. Late-night conversations quickly turned into long, quiet snuggling sessions on the sofa, his long fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair while your mind raced with unexpressed desire.
The Betrayal
The breaking point arrived on a rainy Thursday night. You drove back to the house you shared with your boyfriend to gather more clothes for your extended stay at Neverland.
You unlocked the front door quietly, only to hear soft giggles coming from the upstairs bedroom. Walking up the stairs, your heart sank into your stomach. You pushed the door open to find your boyfriend in bed with another woman.
No words were exchanged. You didn't scream, nor did you give him the satisfaction of a scene. You simply dropped your house keys on the kitchen counter, grabbed your duffel bag, and drove back through the dark toward Neverland, feeling utterly numb, humiliated, and raw.
When you arrived back at the ranch, you bypassed the main living space entirely. You didn't want to talk to Michaelโyou felt too exposed, too small. But Michael had heard your car pull up. He knew something was wrong the moment you snuck past his room.
The Confrontation
You retreated to your guest suite, locked the door, and took a long, blistering shower, trying to wash the sight of the betrayal off your skin.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you, wrapped tightly in nothing but a plush white bath towel tucked over your chest, your heart stopped.
Michael was sitting right in the center of your king-sized bed.
He had shed his jacket, wearing only a unbuttoned black silk shirt and trousers. His arms were folded, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto you with an absolute, unyielding dominance that made your knees instantly weak.
"Michael..." you gasped, clutching the towel tighter to your chest. "What are you doing in here? I'm tired, I just want to go to sleep."
"Sit down, Y/N," he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, velvety rasp that echoed through the quiet room. It wasn't a request.
"No, Mike, pleaseโ"
"I said, sit down," he repeated, his tone so dark and possessively firm that your habitual bratty urge to resist instantly collapsed. Your submissive core took over entirely.
You walked over with trembling legs, sitting on the edge of the mattress, avoiding his eyes.
Michael shifted, moving up behind you. His large, warm hands settled heavily onto your bare shoulders, his long fingers digging subtly into your muscles, locking you right where he wanted you. He leaned down, his breath fanning hot against the shell of your ear.
"You went to that house tonight," Michael whispered, his voice dripping with smooth, manipulative authority. "And you came back looking like someone tore your heart out. Tell me what that little boy did to you, Y/N. You know you can't lie to me. You know I'm not leaving this room until you tell me everything."
A tear slipped down your cheek. "I caught him... with someone else. In our bed."
A heavy, dangerous silence filled the room. You could feel the sudden, fierce heat radiating off Michaelโs body. His grip on your shoulders tightened just a fraction, a possessive, dark thrill flashing through his veins.
"Good," Michael murmured raspy into your ear, shocking you. "Good. Because now you finally realize what I've known for three months. You were never his. You were always meant to be mine."
The Claiming
Before you could process his words, Michaelโs hand slid from your shoulder down to the front of your towel. With one slow, deliberate tug, he unpinned the tuck. The heavy terrycloth fell to your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air of the room.
You gasped, trying to pull the towel back up out of pure reflex. "Michaelโ"
"Don't," he commanded softly, catching your wrists in one hand and wrapping his long fingers around them, easily pinning both your hands together behind your back. His grip was an iron vise, completely rendering you helpless. "Look at me, Y/N."
You looked up, breathless, meeting his dark, hooded eyes. The sheer age gap, his decades of authority, and his absolute dominance completely overwhelmed your senses.
"You've been bratty with me for months," Michael purred softly, leaning in until his lips brushed against yours, his breath hot and sweet. "Demanding things. Teasing me. Pushing my patience. You wanted my attention so badly... and now you have every single bit of it. Are you going to be a good girl for me now?"
"Yes, Michael... yes," you whimpered, completely submissive, yielding entirely to his control.
"Say it properly mama," he growled lightly against your lips, his free hand sliding down to cup your breast, his thumb aggressively tracing your erect nipple, making you arch your back with a sharp moan.
"Please, Michael... I'll be good," you whimpered, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes. "I'm yours."
"That's my angel," he hummed darkly.
Michael leaned down, capturing your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, slick and demanding, claiming you entirely while his hand squeezed your waist, pulling your bare chest flush against his silk shirt. You tasted the warm, sweet scent of him, whimpering softly into his mouth as his hands roamed freely over your exposed skin, marking every inch of you as his.
He pulled back just enough to look down at your flushed face, his breathing heavy and raspy. He released your wrists, using his hands to part your thighs, sliding his fingers down to the damp center between your legs.
"Look at how wet you are for me baby," Michael whispered, his dark voice heavy with filthy praise. His fingers slid effortlessly into your heat, coaxing a loud, helpless moan from your throat. "All that bratty talk, but deep down, you just wanted your boss to take control, didn't you?"
"Yes... oh god, Mike, please!" you sobbed softly, writhing beneath his touch as his fingers set a agonizingly perfect rhythm inside you.
"Shh, quiet now,," he murmured, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clitoris with deliberate, tormenting precision. "Let me show you how a real man treats his woman."
Michael stood up briefly, stripping off his shirt and trousers until he stood fully bare beside the bed. His body was lean, elegant, and powerfully built. He crawled back over you, spreading your legs wide and positioning himself between your thighs.
He rested his full weight over you, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours as he slowly aligned his broad tip with your entrance.
"You're never going back to that house," Michael whispered, his voice dropping into a thick, hypnotic command. "Tomorrow, my lawyers will wipe him out. But tonight... you belong to me."
With one slow, heavy thrust, Michael pushed deep inside you, filling you completely.
You threw your head back, a loud, breathless scream ripping from your throat as your hands flew up to grip his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. The feeling of himโso thick, so mature, stretching you to your absolute limitโsent a violent wave of heat straight down your spine.
"Ah, fuck, mama... you fit me so perfectly," Michael groaned, a rare, filthy slip of his composure slipping out as he began to establish a slow, deep, devastating rhythm.
Every thrust was deliberate and heavy, pounding deep into your sweet spot, making the headboard clatter rhythmically against the wall. He gripped your hips firmly, lifting you to meet each power-packed stroke, refusing to let you escape a single sensation.
"Look at me while I take you baby ," Michael commanded, his voice raspy and breathless.
You opened your heavy eyes, tears of intense pleasure spilling over your cheeks as you looked into his dark, hungry gaze. "Michael... it's too much, I'm going toโ"
"Not yet," he growled softly, leaning down to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his hips slammed relentlessly against yours. "You hold it for me. You take every inch."
The friction was overwhelming, the wet, desperate sound of your bodies crashing together echoing throughout the vast bedroom. Michael dirty-talked continuously into your earโtelling you how soft you were, how much he had wanted you, how he was going to keep you locked in his bed for days until you forgot your ex's name entirely.
Your submissive body couldn't hold out against his relentless dominance. Within minutes, your walls clamped violently tight around his length, a shattered, screaming climax crashing over you in intense, blinding waves.
Feeling your slick walls pulsing around him pushed Michael over the edge. With a low, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hips trembling as he poured his hot, heavy release deep within your core, claiming you entirely.
Afterward, the room was silent save for the heavy, lingering sound of your mingled breathing.
Michael didn't pull away immediately. He rested his heavy frame over you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet, warm kisses against your damp skin. Slowly, he rolled onto his side, pulling you flush against his bare chest and wrapping his long arms around your waist, tucking you safely beneath the warm duvet.
"You're staying right here," Michael whispered softly into your hair, his voice returning to that gentle, familiar warmth, though his possessive grip remained tight. "No more tears. No more bad decisions. You're home now, angel."
Curled against his chest, completely surrendered and deeply content, you closed your eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.
Thankyou guys so much for reading!!
It means the world to make , i wish it was a bit longer.
If you have any requests comment below!
Love yall
