SATIVA — Michael Jackson x F. Reader
— SUMMARY: You smoke weed with Michael and you both lose your inhibitions.
— WARNINGS: switch!mike, dirty talk, marijuana usage, light teasing, dry-humping, a bit of crack & fluff, lotta petnames, use of mama, motorboating (kinda?), unprotected p in v, prone bone, facial, blowjob, switch!reader, sorta sub4sub at the end if you squint a little bit, reader’s playfully mean, dialogue heavy! not proofread
— WC: 4.4k
— A/N: My apology for edging y’all for 3 weeks. (Side note: i think i’m gonna use this smoke divider every time i write something while high.)
While the sun dipped gently between pillowy white clouds, Michael andyou sat in your garage listening to side A of Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder. It was your first successful attempt at creating your own cassette tape, and you convinced your boyfriend to take the evening off away from record executives to listen to it and a few others. Of course, that meant you’d want to smoke some weed, so Michael basically forced you to leave the garage door open, not wanting to get s secondhand. Crickets chirped in conversation while the summer night’s breeze tickled across your skin, causing the hairs on them to stand rigid.
“God, he’s just got the most insane falsetto, doesn’t he?” Michael mused as the vocals dripped out of your boombox.
“Mm, yeah. ‘Specially with this,” you jumbled while you held smoke in your lungs, waving your half smoked joint at him. You blew out another puff, smiling up at the ceiling as you watched the greenish-grey smoke curl about the air up there. You could swear the visual of smoke was a perfect representation of how the music felt in your ears. A giggle escaped your throat before you could even register that you’d been staring up so long, your eyes starting to dry out.
“What’s so funny?” Michael asked as he looked at you somewhat cautiously. He’d been around while you’ve smoked a handful of times, but this time you seemed…different. More affected. Your head was lolling back on the couch every time you tried lifting it up to look at him.
“I see the music…It’s so…” you broke into another fit of giggles, finding your thoughts funny enough to bring thick teardrops to your eyes. “Bugs, this feeling…I can’t explain it, but everything feels so picturesque and important right now. The music…so pretty.”
“Uh-huh…I think it’s all a mind game from the weed, girl. You just seem pretty high.” He shook his head softly, resting a hand on your thigh and caressing it to ground you.
“No, you don’t understand. Yes, it’s the weed, but it makes everything so much better. I need to smoke sativa more often,” you stated as you finally looked over at him, his big brown eyes boring into yours.
“I thought you smoked weed?” he questioned with a scrunch of his brows. You broke out into a chorus of laughter, his innocent response tickling you.
“That is weed, silly! They’re just different plants,” you responded, booping him on his nose.
“Oh, ha. What do you usually smoke?” he replied, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“Indica. Sativa makes you more excited ‘n hyperactive. Indica relaxes you ‘n mellows you out.”
“Is that why you’re acting so different?”
“Yeah, I feel like a ball of cotton candy right now.” You turned around and leaned back, placing your head in his lap. “Before you say anythin’, I know that doesn’t make sense.” You took one last drag of your joint, holding the smoke in your lungs a little longer, tickling your insides as you exhaled it out.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!“ you exclaimed, frantically waving your hands around to clear Michael’s personal space of the smoke. You blew it straight to his nose like an idiot.
“No, it’s fine. I was gonna ask…can I try it?” he asked with a soft grin on his face.
“You sure? You don’t feel the need to just ‘cause I am right? Did I accidentally peer pressure you? Shit, I’m such–”
“Baby, stop. I’m just curious, is all. I’m in my twenties ‘n I haven’t even smoked a cigarette, just lemme try it?” he interrupted. You sat up and handed the joint to him cautiously, eyeing him to make sure he didn’t change his mind.
“‘Kay, but it’s a lil’ strong, so just take a tiny one. Your lungs are still virgins,” you joked as he followed your instructions—kinda. He pulled smoke into his mouth and blew it back out almost immediately, holding eye contact.
“Nothin’ happened,” he said, disappointed.
“That’s ‘cause you have to breathe it into your lungs, dumbass! Do it again,” you teased him.
“I knew that! Jus’ wanted you to tell me what to do,” he pouted, clearly lying. He attempted his second hit and followed your instructions properly this time, holding the air in his lungs a little longer than you thought he should’ve for his first time. Just as you were going to make him breathe, he blew the marijuana from his lungs with a lazy smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.
“Wow, it tastes weird. Like nature and…is that lemon?” He turned his head as he asked, coming a little too close to your lips in the process. “Oh, hi pretty.”
“Hi, gorgeous. How you feelin’?” you asked him as you took the joint from his long fingers. You dragged in another hit, realizing your high almost buzzed away as you took care of your boyfriend.
“I’m feelin’ great. You…Yeah, weed definitely makes things better. You’re so pretty,” he said as he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. You left his side to put the joint out in the ash tray on your coffee table, reaching down as you did so. Unbeknownst to you, Michael was eyeing your ass without a care in the world. Grabbing ahold of the garage door remote next to the tray, you hit the clicker to close it, as the sun was almost fully obscured by the horizon.
Michael was a bit too quiet during it all, so you hurried back to his side to make sure he didn’t green out.
“Still feelin’ good, baby? You’re so quiet,” you questioned, pecking him on his cheek.
“Yeah, ‘m just real into you. You get prettier the more I look at you…How’re you doin’ that?” he asked earnestly.
“It’s definitely the weed’s doing ‘n not mine. Ugh, I’m so jealous! I wish I could experience bein’ high for the first time again,” you pouted.
“Can I kiss you?” Michael asked suddenly, seemingly too lost in his own head to have paid attention to what you were rambling on about.
“Of course. Y’know that’s better when you’re high, too?” you asked with a wiggle of your brow.
“Lemme try it out then.” He cradled your cheek in one hand and your waist in the other, crashing his lips into yours.
You’d never felt so high in your life. Your head was swimming with the marijuana and Michael’s presence. Every movement of his lips and his tongue felt like another hit of the joint—euphoric and heady.
The noises eliciting from his throat only added to the pleasure. Every whimper and whine came out like he was surprised that kissing could be this good. He bit your lower lip and then pulled away abruptly.
“My God. This is…I never wanna stop. How d’you you stay so calm when you smoke? I feel like an animal,” he expressed through labored breathing. His eyelids were heavy with want and the marijuana.
“I’m not always calm, just more experienced at hidin’ it.” You gave him a kiss on the neck, fully letting the unsheathed lust take over you now. “You feel an animal, huh?” you questioned seductively.
“Y-yeah,” he squeaked out, sounding nervous. You separated your lips from his neck, looking him in his chocolate colored eyes.
“And why do you say that, Michael?”
“Because I wanna…” He gulped audibly, anticipating the feeling of your fingers slowly crawling up the length of his neck.
“You wanna what, pretty boy?” you teased, stopping your fingers right under his chin. “Speak up.”
“I wanna be all over you. Y’know, like in a sexual way. Is that okay?” he asked genuinely. You grabbed onto his jaw and brought his face closer to yours.
“Yeah? Wanna touch me, baby?”
“Please? Can we kiss ag–”
You interrupted him by colliding your face with his, throwing your leg over his lap and settling onto him. The force would’ve knocked the wind out of him if he wasn’t so calm. You slid your hand from his jaw and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your breasts against his upper chest and lower face in the process. Your mouth still tasted like the flower, and he felt consumed in the best way possible.
“Y-yes, jus’ like this,” he whimpered when you broke for breath. His hands groped everywhere he was coherent enough to; your thighs, the back of your head, your waist, and then your ass. The feeling of his hands there caused you to grind absentmindedly, your inhibitions basically nonexistent. He groaned heartily into your mouth.
“Can I put my face in them?” he asked suddenly, flitting his eyes between your own and your boobs peeking out the opening of your tank top. You very noticeably got wetter at that and looked down at him with stars in your eyes.
“Yeah…” You grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him in as he moaned into your chest, inhaling the scent of your body lotion and the weed coating your clothes. His hips jerked up into yours at the feeling of a giggle escaping you; your tits pushed into his face farther as your body responded to it.
“Mike, you’re so h-hard, fuck.” Your hips ground against his harder, desperate to relieve both of you in the process. You slid your arms from around his neck and gripped his face with both hands, yanking him away from your tits. “I wanna taste you, Michael.” His eyes widened comically at your admission.
Something was different about your behavior, though. You seemed…less assertive. You even pouted at him a bit, which he wasn’t expecting.
“P-please, can I?”
Was he hearing right? Did you ask for permission? He stared at you dumbfounded.
“Michael? Can I please suck you off?” you tried again, bucking your hips harder. You didn’t even have it in yourself to feel embarrassed by how desperate you were acting. Every fiber in your being wanted nothing other than to be on your knees for him in that moment. It’s funny, him being so submissive made you feel sort of submissive in turn.
“Yeah, mama. Just never heard ya ask before. You okay?” Michael eyed you as you sunk onto your knees on the plush carpet before him, bewildered by the change in power. You licked your lips hungrily as you unzipped his slacks before answering him.
“Mhm. I just wanna show you how good you can feel. Let me.” A hint of dominance seeped out at the end there, soothing his nerves. You stood up on your knees a bit higher as you rushed his pants and briefs down, impatiently ready to strip him nude. His heavy dick slapped against his abdomen with a thick pthck! He was leaking heavily and he was big. Instead of being intimidated by his size, you took it as a challenge.
“Your dick’s so pretty,” you complimented him, meeting his gaze through heavy lids and thick lashes. “Just wanna swallow you whole.”
“Mama…’M shy,” he whined, leaning his head back. You took him in both hands and stroked him teasingly slow.
“Look at me while I do this, baby. I wanna see if ‘m doin’ a good job.”
His eyes looked back into yours, then caught on to the sight of your hands stroking him. The contrast of your neat, clean, manicured fingers doing something so obscenely dirty made his dick spasm in your palms.
“You like when I do this to you, Mike?” you asked. At first he thought it was to tease, but he then realize you genuinely wanted praise, and something flipped in him.
“Yes. You’re so good at this, mama. Perfect,” he sighed out.
You let out a soft hum of contentment and brought his leaking tip to your mouth, sticking your tongue out to let a droplet of precum land on your tastebuds. As it sunk into the wet muscle, you groaned obscenely and took his tip into your mouth immediately, all while maintaining eye contact and stroking where your mouth didn’t touch.
“Oh! Yes. God yes, feels so…!” he babbled out. His hips bucked up a little. “Take more, pretty. Need more,” he instructed awkwardly, not used to the switch in dynamics. You obeyed anyway, shoving the thick length of him further into your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks, drooling into his pelvis.
You took his order almost too literally, forcing yourself to swallow him as far into your throat as anatomically possible, still massaging the inches that couldn’t fit with your hands. You gagged as his hot tip nudged your uvula, causing tears to prick into your waterline.
You sniffled around him as you held it, enjoying the look of pure bliss on Michael’s face. His jaw was completely slack and his left hand was suspended in the air in between you two, seemingly wanting to grab onto something but being too far gone to complete the action. You flattened your tongue and dragged it up his base, as you bobbed your head up and released his dick from your mouth with a loud pop!
“Say somethin’,” you whined to your overwhelmed boyfriend. He snapped back into focus and used his suspended hand to thread his fingers into your thick hair and grip the back of your head.
“You got a real dirty mouth, mama.” He watched as you looked up at him for approval, precum and spit sliding down your chin and tears drying under your eyes. “Again?” he moreso suggested instead of directed. You nodded your head passionately and let his massive hands guide you back over his tip, this time placing your hands flat against his bare thighs as you focused on relaxing the muscles in your throat.
“Good job, baby. You’re takin’ me so well,” he cooed as he watched you work your mouth around his thick base. He could feel your throat constrict and then detract as you bobbed up and down precariously, trying not to trigger your gag reflex.
You pressed your hands into his lap as you pulled your head back up to his tip, letting your throat free up for some air. Next whine escaped his mouth at the crude sight of you, and his eyes caught sight of his precum sliding in between your breasts.
Before he could comment on it, you swirled your tongue in between the slit in his tip and began bobbing your head against his dick faster, milking his arousal between each slurp. You went further and further as the spit and his slick spread around his sex, lubricating enough to make him slide into your throat with ease.
“My goodness, baby. C-can see me in your throat,” he whimpered as he saw the prominent fullness in your neck every time you sucked him in further. That elicited a moan from you, causing the sound to vibrate from his dick to his lower stomach.
You dragged your hollowed mouth up his length and popped off of his dick once more, with a request.
“Cum on my face?”
He nodded in a trancelike state, completely hypnotized by your sweet voice, the marijuana, and the crackling of the boombox; now stopped, waiting for the cassette to be flipped to its B-side.
“Gonna paint a picture on you,” he whispered softly as he stood up, positioning his pelvis in front of your awaiting lips. “Stop me if it’s too much.”
You nodded your head as you reached up for his sex, pumping him a few times before taking him into your hot mouth once more.
Michael grabbed your head with more fervor, setting the pace by pushing and pulling your drooling mouth around him. His long thumb from his free hand came up and wiped a tear from your eye as he cooed at you gently.
“Wish you could see how p-pretty you look like this. Doin’ such a good job,” he complimented you, much to your own enthusiasm.
Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you coughed down a few gags when he hit the sensitive part of your throat again. Through teary eyes, you could see his own fighting to stop from rolling into his skull as his orgasm approached. You took one hand and jerked the size of him that couldn’t fit, then massaged his balls, coaxing his to his release. Your other hand was occupied scratching up and down his thigh, grounding him for his peak.
“I-I’m gon–” He yanked you back watching the drool that connected you to his sex snap and land on your chin, and fisted himself impatiently, on the brink of letting go.
“Give it to me,” you commanded before sticking your tongue out, and that was enough to get him to let go.
He came with an uncharacteristically high screech, painting your face, your collarbone, and your tits with his release. The vision beneath him compelled him to drag his orgasm out, not ready to let go of the sight. Everything about the way you sat waiting for him, mouth open, felt like a dream. Reluctantly, he slowed his pumping to a stop and sat down, growing sensitive and his wrist cramping.
As he let go of himself, you licked your lips and reached out and grabbed it to place a tender kiss to his tip, causing him to shiver at the overstimulation. You then took your thumb and swiped it over the droplets that covered your face, taking it into your mouth and sucking it clean as he watched in silent awe. When you were done, you looked up at him expectantly.
“How was it?” you asked him slightly coyly.
“Baby, I…That was perfect. You did such a good job,” he praised enthusiastically as you stood up. He kicked his pants and briefs off his ankles completely and tilted his head at you.
“C’mere,” he said, grabbing you by the the hand and leading you down into a kiss. You kissed back noticeably needily, causing him to realize just how much of your own physical pleasure you pushed aside to accommodate his. He snaked his free hand down your waist and onto your ass, placing it into your jean pocket possessively.
“Can I take your jeans off?” he asked you lowly, resting his forehead against yours.
“Aren’t you tired?” you asked him with a frown.
“Didn’t your jaw hurt? Wasn’t I makin’ you gag ‘n tear up?” he retorted.
“Yes, but–”
“But nothin’. Lemme return the favor. Please,” he begged.
“Okay…Here.” You stood up more erect and guided his hand from your pocket to the zipper of your jeans. He took the hint and undid it, smiling at you gratefully, and pulled your jeans down your soft legs. He made eye contact with the patch of moisture on the crotch of your baby blue panties and sucked in a breath.
“Oh, you’re so– Did I make you this wet?” he asked, voice full of surprise.
“Yes. You always make me this wet, pretty boy. Feel it.”
He took his thumb and grazed it against your clit, making you whine at the contact.
“You need me, mama?”
Jesus, his delicate voice was gonna be the absolute death of you.
“S-so bad, Mikey. Need you so bad,” you whined pathetically.
He hooked his index and middle fingers into the hem of your soaked underwear, drawing them down the expanse of your thighs while you watched him in utter lust. If he didn’t have the weed in his system to aid any nerves, Michael would’ve gotten self-conscious by your heavy gaze.
A feeling of pure hunger was starting to envelop you as he helped you step out of your garments and pulled your bare lower half toward his mouth. As much as you loved when he ate you out, your body was craving something else. You wanted him in you.
“N-no. I want you to fuck me,” you stumbled out. “From the back.”
His eyes nearly lodged themselves from their sockets at the admission. If he weren’t already half hard, his dick would’ve flown straight up from your words.
You watched your words dawn across his face with your bottom lip lodged between your teeth, and sat on your hands and knees in the space behind him on the couch, waiting.
“Hurry up baby, I’m drippin’.”
Dazed, he got on his knees and positioned himself behind you, stroking his dick to harden it some more. You could hear the slippery sound behind you and looked back, clenching around nothing at the pure erotica.
“Mm, love it when you touch yourself like that for me,” you remarked, voice laced with desire.
He scrunched his brows together and squeezed his eyes shut, steadying himself on the arm of the couch in front of you with his free hand.
“I’m gonna push in. Just lemme know if it hurts,” he whispered into your ear above you. You could feel the heat radiating from his crotch as he hovered over you. Restlessly, you pushed your ass onto him, wordlessly telling him to hurry the fuck up. He obliged immediately.
The stretch was pure rapture, pain and bliss all in one engulfing motion. Your entrance cried for him as he slowly willed himself deeper and deeper, tugging him to your g-spot in one agonizingly slow thrust.
Cries of pleasure and overwhelm filled the stuffy garage, and the small amount of trapped smoke circulated through both of your lungs and back out as carbon dioxide, creating a heady feeling that pushed you both towards the brink of otherworldliness. Everything felt so unreal, yet so present at the same time. There were no accurate words.
Michael retracted his hips after a moment of stillness and kissed your shoulder in an action of devoted love. You shivered at the touch.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ huge,” you hiccuped out, grabbing onto his forearm.
“You’re so warm. I didn’t know it could feel like this,” he sighed as he unsheathed himself halfway. Feeling your walls squeeze for him, he stuttered his hips forward again, this time faster and harsher, and the slap of your ass against his thighs made him see stars.
You cried out and arched your back, dipping your chest lower onto the cushions as you felt your strength wavering. The new position made you both react in wonderment and he picked up his pace, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your waist and pounding into you harder.
“Ple-ase. Need you closer. Please, please,” you begged, reaching back in an attempt to pull him on top of you as you slowly sunk your legs down.
Michael, still keeping up his brutal rhythm, trailed his hand from your waist, wrapped it under your shoulder, and curled his arm around it, as he slumped onto your back. His hips rutted into yours sloppily, like he was learning how to fuck for the first time, but his tip kissed your g-spot expertly with each jut. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge by the second.
“I love you s-so much. Am I doing good?” he asked you in between a poorly covered sob.
“Shh, shh. You’re doing so well, my love. Feels so– fuck! I’m so close, baby,” you cooed to the best of your abilities. You could feel your mind slipping into oblivion, your subconscious taking over as you felt yourself near your peak.
He dropped his hand from the armrest of the couch and trailed it down your side, pushing down on the couch cushion by your hip to make enough space to reach under your stomach. He used that limited space to squeeze his hand between your clenched thighs, searching for your sensitive clit, never easing up on his thrusts.
You turned your head on its side and bit his arm, while he mumbled out unintelligible praises and thank yous.
At one particularly synced thrust to your g-spot and rub of your clit, you tore your mouth away from his arm and shouted out, squeezing your core around him and and spilling your release onto his thighs and the cushions underneath you. His torso was sticky in a mix of both of your sweat, and you could hear him pant and whine into your ear as he picked up his speed, trembling on top of you.
“Michael!” you moaned as you felt him speed up impossibly faster.
“A-almost there, baby. Lemme cum inside. Please?” he sobbed, and you could feel hot tear slide into the crevice of your neck. “Please, wanna give–”
“Fill me up, Michael,” you coaxed him alluringly.
“Yes, o-okay. I’m gonna–”
He shoved himself unrealistically deep, and you could feel the bulge form in your lower stomach from the welcome intrusion. A hot, thick spurt of liquid shot into your throbbing core as he came around you with a cry that sounded like something between a confession and a prayer, your name continuously flying from his lips.
You peppered kisses to his shoulder as he shivered on top of you, attempting to steady himself from the overstimulation of two profound orgasms back to back. You felt higher than ever, despite the high from the weed having worn off somewhere between the loss of clothing.
“I love you, Michael. Did you enjoy yourself?” you asked him timidly, hoping you didn’t overwhelm him in a negative way as you chased for your own release.
Taking a deep breath, he unwrapped his arm from your shoulder and heaved himself away from your spent sex, pulling out with a whine from the both of you. He stood up and grabbed his underwear from the fluffy carpet, sliding them on with a content smile and shaky legs. He found your damp undies and helped you sit up on the couch to put yours on as well, before sitting down next to you.
“That was…Everything felt enhanced? I more than enjoyed myself,” he mused.
“Told ya! It was the weed,” you retired with a grin.
“Can you smoke some more ‘n, like…blow it in my face? I didn’t like the taste or how it burned my throat, but I kinda liked how it made me feel.”
“What the hell? How you gon’ make me do all the work for the both of us?” You shook your head with a soft smile on your lips. “Fine, but let’s clean up and shower. I’m doing it in my room this time.”
“I love you,” he teased, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.
“I love you too, poser.”
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