𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐈𝐓 ── .✦ 𝟐.𝟏𝐊
otw!era michael 𝒿ackson x 𝒻em!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝟏𝟖+ sexual contents (unprotected vaginal penetration, doggy style, explicit language, edging, sub!michael, dom!reader, masturbation (m & r receiving), lots of pleases lol), nickname usage (baby, mama, daddy, mommy, good boy… (i’m testing the waters 👀)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as michael wanted to be the one to call the shots, his body was drawn to your demands.
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐬é (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) double posts today idk who i’m feelin like but i love being in the mood to write! subby mike is on my mind heavy and i just have so many ideas lol be prepared
i do this for @mikesbian my michael subby soul sister
based on this anon’s request <3
A VELVETY NIGHT AT THE HAYVENHURST ESTATE, 1979.
Your ceiling fan turned lazily above you and Michael’s bed, stirring the heavy July heat that still was clinging stubbornly to the estate in Encino, California. The sounds of the night thumped faintly through the open window, and inside, very little lighting was casted from the single lamp draped with a maroon scarf, bringing a warm crimson shadow across your shared bedroom.
Michael was on his knees behind you, one strong hand braced on the mattress beside your hip, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. You were on all fours in front of him, ass raised, back arched in the same perfect curve that always made Michael’s mouth go dry. Your skin glowed under the lamplight, and your small textured gold hoops swayed gently from your ears. You wore nothing else except the thin gold chain around your neck that Michael had gifted you when you started dating years ago.
His dick–thick, dark, and slick as ever–was resting heavy against the cleft of your ass. Michael had been teasing the head along your wet folds for the last few minutes, just like you had told him to. Every time he tried to push it in, you shifted forward just enough to deny him.
“Not yet,” you said, voice amused. “You feel how wet I am, baby? That’s all for you.” You moaned, turning around to bat your eyelashes at the man. He was handsome, and whenever you two had sex, you knew Michael loved when you were in control. “But you don’t get t’ put it in until I say. Keep rubbin’. Nice and slow.”
Michael exhaled hard through his nose. “Mama… you’re killin’ me.”
“Am I?” You looked back over your shoulder again, eyes half-lidded, a little smile curling your mouth. “Or am I just remindin’ my man who decides when his dick gets used tonight?” You argue, biting your bottom lip. “Keep going, just the head. Drag it up and down nd’ be louder for me, baby.”
Michael obeyed. The broad head of his dick slid through your folds again, coating itself, catching on your entrance, then sliding past without sinking in. The slick sound filled the quietness of the room, both of your noises combined leaving echoes through the walls. Michael’s free hand flexed on your hip. He wanted to grip harder, to pull you back onto you, but he didn’t. You specifically told him not to.
“That’s it,” you murmured. “Good. You’re bein’ so good to me right now, Michael. Tell me how it feels.” You whimper.
“Feels like heaven nd’ hell at the same damn time,” he said, his voice croaky. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. Hot. I can feel you twitchin’ every time I feel it… I want inside, mama. Bad.”
“I know you do.” You say, reaching back between your legs and wrapping your fingers around the base of his dick, holding him steady while you rocked your hips just enough to keep the head kissing your entrance without letting Michael in. “But don’t think you’re goin’ in until I decide you’re ready. Nd’ right now, you’re not ready. You’re still thinkin’ you get to fuck me how you want. That’s not how this works tonight.”
Michael’s thighs tensed. “I’ll do it however you want. Please, angel… you know that.”
“I do know that.” You gave him a slow stroke with your hand, then guided the head to your entrance again and let just the very tip slip inside. The tight, wet heat closed around him for one teasing second before you pulled forward and off him completely. He made a frustrated sound that made your pussy twitch.
“Ah-ah. Stay still, Michael.” You looked back again, eyes sharp with authority. “You don’t thrust. You don’t chase. You stay still nd’ wait for me to take what I want. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
The words came out automatic, and something in your expression softened even as the teasing edge stayed sharp. You reached back again, took hold of him, and this time you pushed back slowly–taking the first thick inch, then another, then stopping with only half of him buried inside of you.
“There,” you breathed. “You feel that? That’s all you get for now. You stay still. Don’t you dare try nd’ bury the rest. I move, you take it.”
Michael’s jaw was tight. He kept his hips locked in place, even though every instinct screamed at him to drive forward. The heat of your pussy around the head and upper shaft was almost unbearable for him. You clenched deliberately around him, then relaxed, then clenched once again in slow pulses that made his dick throb harder than ever.
“Baby… fuck. You’re squeezin’ me so good. Let me in deeper, please.”
“Ask nicer.”
Michael swallowed. “Please, honey. Please let me feel all of that pussy. I’ll stay still after… I’ll do whatever you say. Just.. let me have it.”
You smiled and pushed back another inch, then another, until he was fully seated inside of you. Both of you groaned. You stayed there a long moment, rolling your hips in tiny circles so Michael could feel every ridge and flutter without the friction he craved dearly.
“All the way in,” you said softly. “Nd’ you’re still not allowed to fuck me. I fuck you. You feel how deep you are? How I’m holdin’ you? That’s mine.” You started, gripping the fluffy sheets underneath you.
“S’ all mine tonight, Michael. Every move you make is mine. You cum only when I say–nd’ not one second before.”
“Y-yes. Yes ma’am,” Michael managed. “It’s all yours, baby. All of it.”
You began to move–slow, calculated rolls of your hips, pulling almost all the way off him then sliding back down in a controlled rhythm that kept him deep but never gave him the hard, fast strokes his body was begging for. Every time his breathing sharpened and you felt that telltale swell of his sex inside you, you slowed to almost nothing, just the wet, filthy sound of your pussy gripping him while you stayed still.
“Not yet,” you said each time, voice steady. “You feel that edge, daddy? That pull? That’s me. I put it there, nd’ I decide when it breaks.”
Michael’s forehead dropped toward your shoulder. His hands stayed where you had told him to keep them–one on the mattress, one lightly on your hip. He was shaking with the effort of holding still when you stopped.
“Honey… I’m right there. Been right there for what feels like forever. Please… let me move. Just a lil’ bit.”
You reached under yourself and wrapped your fingers around the base of his dick where it disappeared into you, squeezing firmly.
“You wanna move? Then you wait till’ I tell you to. Nd’ when I do, you go exactly as slow or as fast as I say. Clear?”
“Clear. Yes ma’am.”
You released the pressure and began rocking again, a little deeper this time, a little more purposeful. The wet slap of your bodies together grew louder. You looked back at him over your shoulder, watching his face the way you always did when you had him like this… vulnerable and begging.
“You look so good behind me, Mikey,” you said, voice thicker now. “All strong nd’ hard… doin’ everything I tell you even though I know you’re dyin’ to take over. That’s my good man. Tell mommy what you need.”
“I need to fuck you,” he said, his moans broken. “So deep, so hard. I needa’ feel you cum on this dick so I can fill you up.” He admits.
“But only when you say. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you want.”
Something shifted in you then–the pure teasing dominance softening into the switch the two of you loved. You reached back, found his hand, and guided it to your clit.
“Rub me while I ride you from the front, baby,” you ordered tenderly. “Make me feel good… and if you get too close, you stop dead. No matter how good it feels. You understand me?”
“I do, mommy. I promise.”
Michael’s fingers found your clit immediately, circling with the exact pressure you liked. You started moving with more purpose–longer strokes, while still maintaining your control. It was deeper though, and every time his hips twitched forward on instinct you slowed or stopped completely, forcing him back to the edge and holding him there. Sweat slicked the both of you. The room started to smell of sex and that faint sweetness of your expensive perfume Michael repurchased for you a million times.
“Mama… please. I can’t… it’s too much. You’re so wet nd’ I’m so damn full. Let me cum. Or let me make you cum first–whatever you want. Just… use me. Please.”
You slowed again, staying buried deep, looking back at your man with dark, sparkling eyes.
“You wanna make mommy cum, Mikey?”
“More than anything.” Michael pleads.
“Then you keep that hand right there on my clit. You keep stroking me exactly like that. And you fuck me the way I tell you to.” You demand, your face scrunching from the pressure.
“You don’t cum until I give you the word. Can you do that for me?”
“I can do anything for you.” Michael whimpers.
“Prove it.”
You braced your hands on the mattress and gave Michael the order with the roll of your hips. “Deep, Michael. Now, please.”
Michael began to thrust–careful strokes that made both of you moan. He kept his fingers working your clit in tight circles, matching the rhythm you set. Every time you felt him swelling harder inside you, you’d murmur quiet “slower” or “stop”, and it would instantly make Michael freeze, buried to the hilt, breathing hard against your back while you clenched around him in intentional pulses that kept him right on the razor’s edge.
The power kept sliding between the two of you. When you got close yourself, you would order Michael to speed up, then slow him again the second your orgasm threatened to tip you over. When Michael got too close, you would reach back, squeeze the base of his dick, and hold him still until the urge passed. Neither of you fully dominant for long–because both of you started submitting to the shared game of denial and control.
Finally, your voice went high and shaky.
“Faster, now. Harder… Don’t you dare stop, Michael. M’ close–fuck, Mikey, I’m so close–”
Michael drove into you deeper, faster, exactly as you asked him to, fingers still working your clit. The wet sound of the two of your bodies filled the bedroom. You came first–tight, rhythmic contractions that milked Michael hard, your moan muffled against the silk pillow as you shook underneath him.
The second your orgasm started to ease, you looked back, your eyes wild, and gave him the word he had been waiting for the moment you two started making love.
“Cum. Now, Michael. Fill me up… give it to me.”
Michael’s control shattered. He gripped your hips hard for the first time all night and buried himself as deep as he could go, pulsing hard inside you with a broken, grateful sound. You kept clenching around him through every spurt, drawing every bit of it out, whispering the filthiest praises to him the entire time.
“That’s it… good boy… give me every drop… fuck, I can feel you throbbing, Michael. So fuckin’ good for me.”
You stayed locked like this afterward, both of you trembling, Michael’s chest pressed to your back, your hand reaching back to stroke his thigh.
Michael eventually pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck, his voice still extremely rough.
“You’re so dangerous when you get like that, honey.”
You laughed softly, still catching your breath. “Nd’ you love it.”
“I do.” Michael confesses, nuzzling behind your ear. “The next time we make love though… I’ll be the one havin’ you shaking nd’ beggin’.”
You smiled against the pillow, already sounding pleased at the idea. “We’ll see who ends up in charge.”
The two of you stayed tangled together on the bed, all sticky and worn out, already half-planning the next round of that slow and delicious torment–whoever happened to be calling the shots when it started.
And of course, it’d be you.
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