(Something from the drafts/ Also I hope this image isn’t AI. It took forever to find one that wasn’t AI modified. Oh Pinterest what have you become?)
Pairings: Michael Jackson x Reader
Warning: Idk…mommy kink? Dom x Sub relationship? Stepping on dicks? BDSM?
Tags: Michael Jackson/Reader, Michael Jackson AU, Soft!Michael Jackson, Regressed Michael Jackson, Domme Reader, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink, Foot Fetish, Heel Play, Boot Worship, Submissive Michael Jackson, Needy Michael Jackson, Post-Orgasm Guilt, Emotional Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Reader-Insert, Second Person POV, Established Relationship, Toxic, Light Angst, Aftercare, Begging, Gentle Domination, Pet Names, Crying During Sex, Size Difference,
A/N: HEYY!! This was something in the drafts. I’ve been set free from my chains of college (not so much as work tho 😔😒) lol 😂 so expect more fics. I WILL also make sure to get through my inbox and respond to your asks and will respond to comments! I SEE EM GUYS!! THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT 😭 I can’t believe I lowkey “blew up” …anyway this one for the late night freaks
The apartment door barely clicked shut before Michael was on you.
He’d been quiet the whole drive home, eyes glued to you the whole time as you drive in the drivers seat. The second you kicked the door closed he dropped to his knees in the hallway like gravity had personally betrayed him, hands sliding up your jeans until his fingers hooked behind your calves.
“…please,” He whispered, voice already cracking into that soft, regressed little tone. Curls messy, cheeks flushed, black button-up half-unbuttoned like he’d been fidgeting with it the whole ride. “Just… tonight. I need it.”
You froze, heart hammering. The heels you had on made you tower over him and the sight of your favorite, soft, angel boy looking up at you and you looking down at him like this, was doing dangerous things to both of you.
“Mikey…” You reached down, sliding your fingers into his curls and tugging his head back gently. “You gotta come back to your senses. This feels like I’m taking advantage of you. You’ve been fighting this so hard—”
His eyes were glassy, pupils blown. He nuzzled into your thigh like a needy kitten, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the denim. “No. I’m still here. I want this. I need this, Mommy… just once. Please?”
The word slipped out so naturally it made your stomach flip. You bit your lip, glossy lips shining under the hallway light.
“…Okay. But don’t blame me for making you relapse.” You stepped forward, planting one glossy black heeled boot right on the bulge straining his sweats. The pressure made him whimper loud, broken, and pathetic. His hips jerked up instantly, grinding against the sole of your heel like he couldn’t help it.
“F-fuck… thank you,” he gasped, hands wrapping around your ankle to hold you there. “Harder… please, I’ve been so good all day—”
You pressed down a little firmer, watching his face crumble into pure bliss. He started humping your leg in shallow, desperate rolls, whining every time the sharp heel dug into him just right. His free hand clutched at your thick thigh, fingers sinking into the soft curve like it was his lifeline.
“Look at you,” you cooed, voice dropping into that sweet mommy tone that felt way too natural. “My pretty boy humping my leg like a desperate little puppy. You missed this, didn’t you?”
He nodded frantically, eyes wet. “Missed you. Missed being good for you. Tell me I’m good… please tell me you love me—”
You stepped off his dick only to slide your heel along his inner thigh instead, teasing. He chased it with another whine, lips parted, looking up at you with those big glassy eyes. “I love you, baby. So much. You’re my good boy. The best one.”
The praise hit him like a drug. He melted even more, pressing his face against your stomach, mouthing at the hem of your top while his hips kept rolling against your leg. “More… please more praise. kisses. I need it—”
You grabbed his chin, tilting his face up, and leaned down to kiss him slow and deep. He moaned into your mouth like he was starving. When you pulled back he actually pouted, bottom lip trembling.
“Not enough… keep going. Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me you want me. Tell me I’m the best.”
You laughed softly, manhandling him up by the collar of his button-up and walking him backward until his back hit the couch. He went down easy, legs spreading for you on instinct. You straddled one of his thighs, grinding down while you palmed him through his sweats as you began to pull them down. And the second your hand wrapped around his cock, skin on skin, warm and tight, his whole body shivered.
“Gentle… please,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Not too fast. Like… like you’re petting me. Yeah… just like that— ah— slower on the head, Mommy, I like it when you tease the tip first…”
You stroked him exactly how he coached you, slow and loving, thumb circling the head on every upstroke while your other hand stayed buried in his curls, scratching gently. He was a full whiny mess underneath you. Hips twitching, little gasps and whimpers spilling out every few seconds. “Fuck… I love your hand. Love when you take care of me. Don’t stop saying you love me… please don’t stop—”
“I love you, Michael,” you murmured against his temple, kissing him soft between every praise. “Love my sweet, needy boy. Love how desperate you get for me. You’re so pretty when you’re like this.”
He came with a broken little sob, spilling over your fingers while he clutched at your waist like you might disappear. Aftershocks rolled through him for almost a minute, face buried between your breasts, breathing hard.
Then the guilt started creeping in. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed.
“…This doesn’t mean anything,” he mumbled into your skin, voice small. “Just… one time. I’m still trying to heal... I—”
You cut him off with another kiss, slow and deep, and felt him melt all over again.
“Shh, baby. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Tonight you’re just fine.”
He nodded, already half-asleep and clinging to you like a koala, one hand still lazily stroking your thigh like he couldn’t let go.
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