— Things you and Marlon do that convinces everyone around you that the both of you are never going to separate.
— suggestiveness but nothing else
# 1 ‘STOP TALKING ABOUT HER!”
Marlon shuffles into the kitchen after being cooped up in his room, scratching at his forehead and yawning slightly, looking around. “You guys cookin’?”
Jermaine and Jackie turn around, the eldest nods and hold up the pan. “Jus’ some sausages, y’know its like 10am right?” Marlon shrugs and strides over to the stool.
“Wait, are those smoked?”
Jackie nods.
Marlon sighs and leans his chin on his hand. “My girlfriend lovesss those, she can devour like 5 of them in a few minutes, god shes so cute. Maybe i should—“
Jermaine groans. “Shut up man.”
“Why?” Marlon huffs, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Because you always talk about her, we damn near know her whole life.” Jackie explains. “Now shut up, and eat.”
# 2 LOUD AND LOUDER
The sun was beaming down on the pool, making it shine a rich light blue. The others were already in the pool except Marlon, who was pacing by the sidelines.
“Marlon, quit all that pacin’.” Tito says, splashing Michael with water, which made the younger boy splash some back. “I can’t, what if she doesn’t come? what if she—“
“Marlon!”
A familiar voice calls out and he whirls around, his face lighting up. you entered through the gate and rush over to him in your pink bikini, a big grin on your face.
you throw yourself in his arms and he spin you around, causing you to giggle.
After you arrived, his brothers were basically nonexistent, you two were busy chatting and arguing loudly—every word not leaving their ears.
“Jeez, both of them combined is like nails on a chalkboard..” Michael mumbles.
# 3 KEEP IT PG-13
Most family nights included partners as well, which meant Hazel, Carol, DeeDee and you were all in attendance beside your respective partners.
the film had ended already, a thriller with multiple plot twists, you all were discussing the scenes and what confused one another the most.
“I jus’ don’t like how they were getting dirty while there was danger, makes no sense.” Hazel said, tucked into Jermaines side, who obviously agreed with her.
Everyone else agreed.
But Marlon? he had to make his opinion known.
“It’s not that crazy, its all the adrenaline, i mean id definitely be on (name) the wholeee time.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, which made you shove at his shoulder, and everyone else cringe.
“Marlon! Keep that to yourself!” Jackie exclaims, clearly disgusted by the image of his little brother even thinking about doing that.
(masturbation, perverted behavior, he doesn't know you)
hayvenhurst
thursday, 1978 — 1:00 pm
“hey mikey, where are you going?” the sun was beating down on michael’s arm. he threw his hand in the air, lifting his foot out of the swimming pool. “it’s too hot…i’m gonna grab some more juice, marlon,” he gripped the empty glass, walking across the garden.
he stood in the kitchen, placing the empty glass in the sink. contrary to what he had said, he didn't fill the glass with more orange juice.
he was thirsty for something else.
he scratched his nose while walking up the stairs. he pushed open his bedroom door, checking if anyone else was in the hallway before closing it.
he was alone for the first time in hours.
he stretched his arms.
he finally allowed himself to think of you.
his throat felt sore every time he remembered you. and this time was no different. he opened the drawer, searching for the hidden magazine. he swore to himself that he would throw it away, but it was easier to think about than actually do.
the drawer was full of letters from his fans. fans who were supposed to be his only focus.
if it wasn't for you.
you held the spotlight in michael jackson's heart.
the stunning model from players magazine.
his pupils dilated when his hands touched the magazine. if his brothers saw it, he would be the joke for the rest of his life.
there it was. he pulled the magazine from under the papers. he moistened his lips at the sight of you.
players girl pictorial - edition.
you were the playmate of the edition he was holding, posing fully nude on the cover. the sight of your naked nipples was making his dick grow hard.
it was embarrassing. because of an unknown woman, he was acting like a teenager, hiding under the bedsheets.
it wasn't his fault.
you looked so sensual. he opened the magazine with a sense of urgency. he wanted to see more of you.
on the third page, you were sitting on a velvet armchair. wearing an unbuttoned blouse and a black skirt…spreading your thick thighs. you weren't wearing any underwear.
that was one of his favorite pictures.
he trembled imagining your taste. were you sweet? did you taste like heaven?
he grabbed his bulge through his pants. gripping his dick while biting his lip. he turned to the next page, and oh, you were groping your own boobs—and sticking your tongue out.
he was a lost man.
he took his dick out of his pants, staring at your body. he didn't want to be this kind of man…although…he couldn't avoid it. his hand was around his dick; he spread his pre-cum along his length.
your eyes, your mouth, your tongue. he wanted to fill your juicy mouth with his dick. he would grab you by the hair, and you would take him so well.
“n-nghhn….m-mama….” he whined, feeling his chest tightening. he shut his eyes, imagining his hand was your warm lips and the wet sounds were your mouth drooling over his dick.
“pl-eease….please….i’m gonna cum” he opened his eyes, he stared at your boobs—and then at your mouth. “take it all for me, n-nnghm” his stomach fluttered with the growing feeling. he was about to cum. his pace quickened. he grunted while thrusting his dick into his hand. finally, with a buzzing in his ears and a burning in his throat—he came. the white fluid splattered onto the magazine; his cum was all over your picture. the paper became a mess, the white strings dripping onto your body.
feeling like a pervert, he lost himself in the pleasure of you, smearing his cum over your tongue.
preachersdaughter!reader who reads the bible everyday in the morning before heading with her father to the church, but at night, she can’t help but think about the boy that attends every Saturday.
preachersdaughter!reader who is not allowed to have tattoos, piercings, or anything that is not “of god”. Though she wishes she could get a belly ring.
preachersdaughter!reader who loves her father, she really does, but when the punishments and rules get too much she wishes it was different—that she was someone else’s child, then prays away her ungratefulness.
preachersdaughter!reader who meets michael at church, seeing him and his brothers leave at the end of the session and couldn’t help but lay eyes on the shy one, lucky for you, michael noticed you as well.
preachersdaughter!reader who has kept her virginity until marriage like her family wants, but unfortunately, the boy who seemed so shy before is bold enough to try and pull her purity apart.
preachersdaughter!reader who tries to wash away the guilt that eats away at her, prays away the thoughts of michael, keeps her hands that wander under cotton panties at night busy with studying the holy word.
just thinking about how big michael’s hands are and how one would completely be able to wrap around my throat— not even in like a choking way. imagine he was just holding you hut oh hello!! completely enveloped. or the way his hand would splay over your lower back or when he holds onto your waist, it would cover so much. him holding onto your hips. and his fingers!!! just holding his hand would make me spiral knowing my own would be swallowed up by his, lord have mercy.
reader trying to stay quiet during a movie while jermaine or jackie is fingering her 👀👀👀?
ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ
، summary𓈒 jackie is late for your date (bars)
، pairing𓈒 bf!jackie Jackson x gf!black!fem!reader
، warnings𓈒 no use of y/n, 18+ mdni, fingering, clit play, public, soft dom!jackie, little to no plot fr.
، notes𓈒 first req for sigmunddd– wheeeww, i like himmm, he cool or wtv…enjoy. (this was rushed – emp AND THEN cry abt it..)
، taglist𓈒 @divaaprincess, @cannonindeez, @saigesspace, @junhuisfairy, @dicksapointed, @bbybeminee, @4ngelfacee (go here to be added!!)
Jackie had one hand draped lazily over the top of the wheel, his teeth dug deep into his lower lip.
He was running late. A full forty five minutes past the time he was supposed to be sitting outside your building with the heater blowing, waiting on you to walk down those concrete steps.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, flicking his wrist to check the heavy watch resting against his dark skin. The second hand swept round and round, totally unbothered by the fact that his pulse was racing a mile a minute.
Jackie loved you. Fuck, he loved you so bad it made him feel stupid sometimes. You were his anchor, his quiet spot, the one girl in the middle of all his noise who didn't ask him for a damn thing except his time. And here he was, fumbling the easiest assignment he had all week: a fucking movie date.
His life wasn't normal, and he knew you were always trying your best to be cool about it. While you were balancing a real schedule; work, responsibilities, regular, non famous people shit, Jackie was locked in studio sessions that bled into the early hours of the morning, dealing with brothers who argued over shit like it was life or death, managers breathing down his neck, and fans who thought they owned a piece of his breath. You never threw it in his face, either. You just adjusted, you adapted, you understood that his world was loud, and fast, and constantly pulling him in six different directions.
But understanding it didn't mean you didn't get tired of it. And Jackie knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that right now you were sitting on your couch, coat probably already draped over the back of a chair, arms crossed over your chest, looking at the clock and getting that little crease right between your eyebrows. The one he usually loved to kiss away, except tonight he was the reason it was there.
He pulled up to the curb of your apartment complex, the tires crunching against the loose gravel at the edge of the street. He barely had the car in park before he was cutting the ignition, grabbing his jacket, and getting out.
When he reached your door, he didn't even knock hard. Just three soft taps, resting his forehead against the painted wood for a second to catch his breath.
When you opened the door, you looked so fine it actually made his stomach hurt a little bit. You had your hair done up all soft and pretty, skin glowing under the warm light of your hallway, dressed in something cozy but cute…all for him. But your eyes? Oh, you were irritated. Not screaming mad, not throwing shit– the quiet typa annoyed that was just as worst as you being loud.
"Baby," Jackie breathed out, instantly stepping into your space, his hands coming up like he was surrendering. "I know. I know, I know, I know. Don't even say it. I'm fucked up for this one."
You leaned back against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, giving him a long, slow look up and down. "Jackie. Forty five minutes?"
"The session went over, man. Jermaine wouldn't cooperate, and then Joseph came in talking 'bout– look, it don't even matter. No excuses," he cut himself off, taking a step closer, his tall body blocking out the cold night air behind him. He reached out, his long, dark fingers gently wrapping around your wrist, tugging you just an inch closer. "I'm sorry, for real. I hate keeping you waiting. You put all this effort into lookin' this good for me, and I'm out here acting like a fool."
You let out a soft huff, your lips twitching just a tiny bit, though you tried to keep your face stern. You couldn't stay truly mad at him when he got like this; looking down at you with those huge, brown eyes.
"You ruin my night before it even starts," you grumbled, though your tension was already starting to thaw under the warmth of his hand.
"Nah, un uh, night ain't ruined. I'm fixin' it right now," he promised, bending down so his face was level with yours, his dark lips brushing against your cheek, moving down and lingering right by the curve of your jaw. "Come on. Get your bag. Next movie start in twenty minutes. Anything you want at that concession stand, it's yours. Popcorn, candy, three of them damn giant slushes you like– I'm buying the whole lobby."
You couldn't help the small laugh that came up then, shaking your head as you move to grab your purse. "You think you can buy your way out of trouble?"
"I'm sho' gonna try," he grinned, that gorgeous, brilliant smile of his flashing, all white teeth, pulling you out the door before you could change your mind.
By the time he maneuvered the car into the theater parking lot, he was moving so fast. He paid for the tickets, practically sprinted over to the concession counter, and loaded up his arms like he was preparing for a winter storm. He bought the largest tub of buttered popcorn they had, two boxes of your favorite chocolate, and a large cherry slushie, bumping the theater door open with his hip while you followed behind him, chuckling at the ridiculous sight of him before sipping at the cold drink.
"Jackie, we're not gonna eat all this," you whispered as he led you down the dark, sloped carpet of the theater.
"Don't matter. You said you was mad; food fix mad," he muttered back, throwing a playful look down at you as he found two seats way in the back corner.
The theater was dark, and illuminated only by the flickering light of the previews bouncing off the giant screen. There were maybe five or six other people scattered throughout the front and middle rows, but the back was completely empty. Jackie shuffled down the aisle, letting you slide into the seat next to the corner seat right up against the wall, dropping all the snacks onto the empty chair beside you before sitting down in the seat right next to yours. (So the snacks was on your side, on the left, Jackie on your right.)
He settled his long frame into the plush leather, adjusting his leather jacket before slinging his arm casually over the back of your chair, fingers instinctively going to your shoulder. The warm scent of him immediately filled your senses, washing away whatever tiny bit of irritation you had left.
"We good?" he asked quietly, leaning his head close to yours as the lights dimmed completely and the main movie began to play. His breath was warm against your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
"We'll see," you teased, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Depends on if the movie's good."
Jackie chuckled softly. "Mmmhmm." He hummed, grabbing some as well. “It better be…”
For the first twenty minutes, it was normal. You ate popcorn, sipped your slushie, and watched the screen, feeling Jackie’s fingers rub against your shoulder. But Jackie wasn't really watching the movie. He was watching you. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept tracking the curve of your profile; the way the flickering light from the screen washed over your smooth, rich brown skin, the full shape of your lips as you chewed, the way your eyes lit up at a funny scene.
He felt that ache in his chest again. He'd been away all week– in meetings, rehearsing until his legs hurt, being paraded around like a product. He hadn't touched you in days...like really touched you. And sitting here next to you, smelling you, feeling your warmth...it was driving him crazy.
Slowly, Jackie brought his right hand right on over. His long fingers stroked the bare skin right above your collarbone, his thumb lazily tracing the line of your neck.
You shifted slightly, glancing at him sideways. "Jackie, watch the movie," you whispered under your breath.
"I am watching," he murmured back, the tips of his fingers on his left hand digging slightly into the skin of your shoulder, pulling to him as he leaned over to kiss on your cheek.
Though his right hand slid lower. His fingers skimmed down your front, sliding under the hem of your top just enough to touch the warm skin of your stomach.
You caught your breath. "Jackie..."
"Shh," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were resting right against the delicate skin of your pulse point on your neck. He pressed a lingering kiss there, feeling your heart leap against his mouth. "Just relax, baby. Nobody back here but us."
"We're in a public place," you hissed softly, your hands clutching the armrests.
"And? They watching the screen. I'm watching you."
His hand moved from your stomach, slipping smoothly down to your thigh. You were wearing a soft skirt, and Jackie’s eyes darkened in the slightly dark theater as he realized how easy you were making this for him, even if you didn't mean to. His fingers gathered the soft fabric, slowly pulling it up, inch by inch, exposing the smooth, dark warmth of your thighs to the cool air of the theater, his lip coming in between his teeth.
You snapped your mouth shut, darting a nervous glance down toward the couple sitting four rows ahead of you. They were completely glued to the screen, completely oblivious.
Jackie’s palm settled heavy and hot on the inside of your knee. He didn't move it higher right away. Instead, his thumb just began to stroke slow circles into your skin, applying just enough pressure to make you sigh.
"Jackie, stop..." you whispered. It sounded breathless, almost desperate, even to your own ears.
"You don't want me to stop," he whispered back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He licked at your earlobe gently, making a tiny, suppressed squeak leave your throat. "You was mad at me, right? Gotta make it up to you. Gotta treat my girl right."
"This isn't– hu–"
You clamped your teeth together hard, catching the sound in your throat as his hand finally slid up. His long fingers smoothed over the warm skin of your inner thigh, rubbing against the fabric of your panties. Jackie let out a low, satisfied breath against your neck.
"Yeah," he breathed, his fingers teasing the elastic edge of your underwear, not going under yet, just pressing through the thin fabric right over your slit. "Look at you. You still mad at your boy?"
You shook your head frantically, your hand coming up to grip his wrist, but you weren't pushing him away– you were holding onto him for dear life.
"Tell me," Jackie urged softly, his fingers just resting full and heavy over your pussy, pressing down just enough to make you arch your back off the seat an inch. "You still mad?"
"No," you breathed, swallowing hard, your knuckles turning white where you gripped his sleeve. "No, Jackie, please..."
"Please what, baby?" he murmured. He shifted closer on the seat, his left hand moving from your shoulder to cup your chin and tilt your face up to his. "Tell me what you want."
"I don’t…Just..." you whispered, tears of pure sensation prickling at the corners of your eyes. "People..."
"Don’t cry, baby. I got you," he whispered, chuckling at the nonsense you were saying.
Jackie slid his hand beneath the waistband.
The immediate slickness of your pussy met his fingers, and a low groan almost escaped his own throat. He restrained himself, biting his lip hard as his fingers found your soft, swollen pussy. He parted you gently, his middle finger gliding through your folds, coating himself before he began a slow circle right over your hole.
Your head fell back against the headrest, your eyes fluttering shut as a violent shudder wracked your entire body. You bit your bottom lip so hard, desperate to keep from letting out the moan that was clawing its way up your throat.
"Shh, that's it," Jackie whispered, his voice in your ear. "Hold it in, baby. Good girl. Stay quiet for me."
He sped up his finger just a fraction, matching the rhythm of the beat pulsing through his own veins. Every time the movie got loud, Jackie pushed a little harder, dragging his long finger down, swirling it around, then dipping just the tip inside you.
"Jackie– !" you gasped, his name coming out as a tiny, desperate squeak. You tightened your legs, trying to crush his hand, but he just laughed, his long fingers easily working against your slick folds, pushing deeper, filling you up just an inch before pulling back out to tease your wet hole again.
"Tighter than a motherfucker," he groaned under his breath, his own heart hammering against his ribs like a war drum. Touching you like this, where anyone could turn around if you slipped up, it was driving him crazy. He was getting hard as a rock inside his pants, but he didn't care about himself right now. He wanted you completely unraveled. He wanted to feel you break under his fingers. “Put your leg up, baby.”
You lifted your leg up onto the seat before spreading your right leg for a better advantage. He added a second finger, slowly stretching you, sliding deep into your heat while his thumb came up and started circling on your precious little clit.
“Mnnhmm–” Your hips hitched up off the seat automatically, chasing the feeling. You grabbed Jackie’s leather jacket, pulling him closer, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you tried to muffle the small, pathetic whimpers coming out of you. Every stroke was slow, making your skin feel as though it was on fire.
"Look at me," Jackie demanded softly, his voice a commanding raspe in the dark.
You forced your eyes open, heavy lidded and blurred with tears of pleasure, moving your head away from his neck to look at him. Jackie was looking right at you as his fingers worked continuously on your pussy beneath your skirt.
"Don't close your eyes," he whispered, his fingers curling, moving up now, pressing, finding your g spot, making your toes curl inside your shoes. "I wanna see you take it"
"Huhn– Jackie– I'm gonna cum…" you whispered, your right hand balling into a fist at his jacket.
"Go 'head," he encouraged, his rhythm becoming faster, and wetter, and deeper. He was dragging his fingers out until they almost left you, then curling them back in, hitting that deep spot over and over again until your breath was coming in short, ragged hitches while your face screwed up in pleasure. "Right here, baby. Cum for me. Keep it quiet, though. Keep it all in for me."
You bit down heavily on the shoulder of his jacket, the thick leather muffling the high, trembling cry that ripped from your chest as your entire body went taut as a bowstring.
Your slick walls clamped down hard on his fingers, pulsing in intense, wet waves around them. Jackie kept his thumb pressing against your clit, his fingers still inside you, riding out every single spasm of your orgasm until you were trembling from head to toe. “Shit.” You hissed as you grabbed at his wrist, squeezing tightly as your hips lifted on their own, jolting as you rode his hand, your breath quivering.
Jackie didn't move his hand right away when you removed your hold on him. He kept his fingers gently rested inside you, feeling the sweet, lingering quivers of your pretty pussy slowing down. He kissed your temple, then your cheek, then pressed a sweet, tender kiss to the corner of your lips, tasting the salt of a tear that had escaped your eye.
Slowly, he slipped his hand out from beneath your skirt, letting the soft fabric fall back down over your thighs.
You slumped back into the seat, letting your left leg drop, completely boneless, as some might say, your head rolling back against the headrest as your pulse slowly began to settle down to normal.
Jackie lifted his hand to his mouth, wrapped his lips around his coated fingers, tasted your slickness on his tongue and groaned. He slipped them out, wiping them lazily onto his pants.
"You still mad at me, baby?" he whispered, squeezing your shoulder, arrogant little smirk evident in his voice.
You let out a weak breath, "I hate you," you mumbled softly, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
Jackie laughed softly, the vibration buzzing delightfully against your cheek as he pressed one last kiss to the top of your head.
"Yeah, yeah. I love you too, baby. Now watch the movie."
GIRL—I just realized this was you!! I was abt to tag your old acc in a “support blk writers” post n i saw that your acc was gone??!! 😭😭💔 im sorry im so fucking slow
LMAFOFOF its okay 🥹🥹 thank u for tagging me tho queen i love you
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.
— What to do when you meet the preachers daughter? the put together, disciplined, and worst of all—the child of a man your father hates. Oh! and you’re not allowed to be affiliated with her. Michael knows what to do. You break the rules.
preachers daughter!reader x jacksons era!michael, religious themes, loss of virginity, reader is 19 and michael is 20, strict parenting, etc.
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