can u do jaafar!michael where its based on the scene where he just got back from getting his nose done?? instead of joseph its u who saw him
bandages | michael jackson
pairing: jaafar!michael x reader
word count: 2,0k
summary: where y/n catches michael sneaking into the house after his first nose job
a/n: thank you sm for requesting <3 (where do i put this on the masterlist? lol)
warnings: angst, self-doubt, established relationship
The house is unnervingly quiet as Michael opens the front door, the hinges giving a faint squeak. Almost too quiet. He squeezes through the narrow opening and closes the door behind him with a soft click. With his head lowered, he heads straight for the stairs, hoping not to be seen. He reaches the middle of the staircase just in time, a door opening somewhere downstairs, voices following. Quickly, he picks up his pace. Once upstairs, he carefully avoids the floorboards he knows will betray him, sneaking his way through the house.
He doesnât want anyone to see him after what heâs done.
His pulse pounds against his throat as he reaches his parentsâ bedroom. There is no other way to get to his own room. He has no choice but to pass it. Holding his breath, he continues on his way and hears someone walking through the entrance hall, likely a maid. Suddenly, he hears a sound from behind his parentsâ bedroom doors, as if someone is moving inside. He startles, a sharp breath catching in his throat, and hurries past.
His bedroom door at the end of the hall comes into view, and with every step, the sound of his heartbeat grows louder in his ears, drowning out everything else. His hand trembles as he reaches for the doorknob and steps into the safety of his room. Leaning his back against the door, basically blocking it, he immediately lets out a breath, relieved that no one has seen him.
Michael knows he cannot hide his nose surgery forever; it is far too noticeable a procedure. Yet, in his mind, it makes sense to put off the inevitable revelation as long as possible, especially since he hasnât told a soul about it. One morning, he simply looked in the mirror and saw Joseph staring back at him through his own reflection â specifically Josephâs nose, that is â and booked the consultation before he could lose his nerve.
He was terrified, incredibly and utterly terrified. Medical procedures always frightened him and the significance attached to this one made it all the worse.
He dreads the day he will have to stand before him and admit what he has done. The day he gives him the satisfaction of knowing what his ugly words drove him to do. That years of being told he was ugly, that his nose was too big, too awkward, too wrong, had finally gotten to him.
âYouâre back!â
Michaelâs body goes rigid when he realizes he isnât alone. You lie sprawled across his bed, absentmindedly kicking your feet as you flip through a magazine. You havenât looked up yet; the article youâre reading apparently too interesting to spare your boyfriend a glance. For one fleeting second, Michael is grateful for it as it gives him a few extra seconds to figure out his next move. However, his mind has gone completely blank; he canât think of a thing, except â SHIT!
You lift your gaze from the magazine and smile at him, but he immediately turns his head away, his cap and sunglasses obscuring his face. You caught a brief flash of something white on his face, your smile fading almost instantly. You frown, sensing that something is wrong.
âMichael?â, you whisper, barely making a sound, and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the magazine long forgotten. With each step you take toward him, he flinches and your stomach drops. His entire body is tense; he presses his back against the door so hard heâs practically trembling. One hand is behind his back, gripping the door handle tightly, as if heâs about to bolt at any moment.
âWhatâs.. going on?â, you ask, but the question dies halfway through. Â You are close enough now, close enough that him turning his head away no longer helps. Your gaze falls on his nose and the bandages wrapped around it.
âWhat..?â The word escapes in a shaky breath. Michael presses his lips into a thin line and his eyes remain fixed on the floor. Because he is terrified of what he might see in your expression when you look at him like this. He couldnât bear it if you were to see him differently now.
You cautiously raise a hand, very slowly. He notices from the corner of his eye and instinctively shrinks away, as though making himself smaller could soften whatever youâre about to say. You gently cradle his chin and turn his head toward you, leaving him no choice but to look at you. He doesnât resist.
The extent of what he has done is now unmistakably visible right there on his face. Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. When he spots a hint of sadness in your gaze, not disgust, not disappointment, his shoulders loosen ever so slightly. Evidently, he senses no threat coming from you. You had never given him any reason to fear judgment or condemnation, but Michaelâs mind liked to convince him of the worst.
Without saying a word, you gently remove the sunglasses from his face to look into his eyes. You almost drop it when you look into his deep brown, big, beautiful eyes, a hitched breath escaping your throat. Dark purple bruises surround both eyes, a sign that his nose was likely broken. His eyes radiate such profound sadness and vulnerability that it takes your breath away, leaving you momentarily dizzy as you realize what it all means. Why he did it.
You donât dare touch his face, afraid even the gentlest contact might hurt him, so your hands just hover uncertainly beside his face while youâre searching for the right words to say. You canât come up with anything and because Michael canât bear it any longer, the uncertainty of it all, he beats you to it.
âItâs for my sinusesâ, he says softly, his voice cracking at the end. He canât even look at you when he says it, averting his gaze once more.
âOh, Michaelâ, your breath trembles as the words leave your mouth. You know heâs lying and he knows that you know that heâs lying. You know why he did it and he knows that you know why he did it. He has told you about it often enough. That he wants to look like a real superstar, that his nose is simply too big, too ugly. All words his father drilled into him from early childhood, until eventually, he came to believe them.
You have witnessed firsthand how Joseph talks to him even to this day, how he tears him down at any chance he gets, mocking him, belittling him, calling him ugly when he is quite literally the most beautiful man in the world. The irony of it all makes your blood boil.
You had loved his nose, it fit him so well. You still do. His entire face was perfect to you, is perfect to you. Changing it wonât change how you see him. But it hurts knowing he never got the chance to see himself through your eyes instead of Josephâs. You feel like youâve failed him. That you didnât do enough to blur Josephâs words out, to make him feel comfortable in his own skin, to accept himself the way he is. But you never had any chance, Josephâs damage had been done long before you came into his life.
What hurts most is watching him try to hide from you.
Itâs all becoming too much for Michael. He simply canât meet your gaze, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He reaches for his sunglasses and squeezes past you, flexing his hand because he had been gripping the door handle far too tightly. You donât let him get far, though. Quickly, you grab his wrist. He stops abruptly and looks at you, so sad and hurt that it breaks your heart. A grown, beautiful man, broken by the words of a man who ought to be supporting him, who ought to love him just as he is. Who terribly failed him.
Without hesitation, you pull him into a tight embrace, careful not to touch his nose. At first, Michael is taken aback and stands rigid in your arms, caught completely off-guard.
âDoes it hurt?â, you murmur against his shoulder, planting a feather-light kiss there. His breath shudders and then, slowly, almost hesitantly, his arms wrap around you. He pulls you close until thereâs no space left between you, squeezing you tightly against his chest.
Only then does his body relax. You can tell by the way he hugs you back, that heâs so grateful to have you, to have someone who will always have his back, no matter what. You can feel his heartbeat underneath his skin.
âA bitâ, he sniffs. You both know he isnât talking about the surgery. The deepest wound had been there long before the bandages ever were. Neither of you says so.
Michaelâs grip tightens almost imperceptibly. You feel it in the way his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, in the way he leans just a little more of his weight against you, as though holding himself upright has suddenly become too exhausting. Silence stretches between the two of you, broken only by his uneven breathing against your shoulder. Gently, you rub your hand up and down his back, reminding him that you are there.
âI ruined my face.â The words are so quiet you almost miss them. Your heart cracks and you pull back just enough to look at him, keeping your hands resting lightly against his sides so you donât risk brushing his nose.
âWhat?â
âI know you loved my old nose. Now I look like this, awfulâ, he swallows hard.
âDo you want to know why I loved your old nose?â, you ask, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
âWhy?â
âBecause it was yoursâ, you explain, your fingertips carefully smoothing the sleeve of his overall. âAnd Iâll love this one for exactly the same reason.â
For a long moment, you simply look at him. Michael doesnât know how to respond to that. He is overwhelmed by the gentleness in your voice, in your eyes. It feels almost foreign, being looked at with so much love when heâd spent most of his life expecting criticism instead. He wants to believe you, desperately, but Josephâs voice is louder, older, woven into him too tightly to simply disappear.
With the same care youâd shown when removing his sunglasses, you reach up to the brim of his cap now, lift it from his head and set it aside. Soft curls, flattened from being tucked beneath it for hours, spring free. You gently comb your fingers through them, brushing them back from his forehead, careful not to go anywhere near the bandages.
âI just..â, your voice catches for a moment, unsure how to phrase it. âI just wish you wouldâve told me.â
He lowers his gaze, feeling embarrassed that he ever thought, even if it was only for the split of a second, that you could ever resent him for what heâd done. You slip your hand into his, the touch making him look up nervously as he squeezes your hand.
âI wouldâve been there to hold your handâ, you tell him, your thumb stroking over his knuckles. âYou didnât have to be scared by yourself.â
A fresh tear rolled down Michaelâs cheek. âI knowâ, he whispers hoarsely. âI just.. I couldnât.â
âI wish you could see yourself the way I see youâ, you say, your own voice trembling now. âHow incredibly beautiful you are, inside and out. I hate that he spent your entire childhood convincing you that you werenât enough. Because youâre more than enough, Michael.â
The bandages are covering the aftermath of what has been done to him. Years of shame, years of hearing the same cruel worlds, years of pretending they didnât matter â all of it crashes over him at once. Immediately, you wrap him in your arms again. This time he doesnât hesitate and buries his face against your shoulder as carefully as he can, mindful of his bandaged nose, while his body shakes with quiet sobs.
summary: during breakfast Randy Jr reveals the two of you have the house completely to yourselfs
contains: heavily 18+, mdni!, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex wrap yo will donât be silly, size kink if you squint, belly bulge if you squint
notes: this is somewhat rushed..
you tossed and turned for what felt like hours
âwhy THE FUCK would he do thatâ
you thought to yourself endlessly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and aggravation
by the time morning came you were dead tired, you could assume that you only got three hours of deep sleep but the smell of something being cooked downstairs immediately woke you up
out of curiosity you put your ear on Jermajestyâs doorâŚnothing so you cracked it open and took a peep insideâŚempty room and a neatly made bed
you did the same with Jaafars room doorâŚnothing
you did the same with Randyâs room doorâŚnothing
you thought nothing of it and shrugged it off, the smell of cooked meat was distracting you so you headed downstairs and walked into the kitchen expecting to find someone standing over the stove or food on the counter butâŚnothing
you turned your head and looked outside the large kitchen window to see Randy Jr standing outside on the back patio in front of the grill, shirtless and a cigar hanging out his mouth
you stood still and let your eyes helplessly tracing his bare chest and shoulders, before trailing down to his v line disappearing into his shorts
you snapped out of it, blinking your eyes as you slid the glass door open and stepped out onto the patio to join him
he looked up from the grill and blew cigar smoke in the air âmorningâ he said and gave you a smile
âmorningâ you replied, you looked around the quiet backyard. âwhere did the others go? theyâre rooms and emptyâ
Randy Jr. turned a couple of sausages on the grill, then taking another puff of his cigar, letting the smoke drift away before answering
âthey left out earlyâ he said âsome excursions they had planned. somewhere on a boat or the mainland, they actually won't be back untilâŚat most tomorrow afternoonâ
âtomorrow?â you repeated, a sudden wave of relief washing over you. on one hand, it meant you didn't have to face Jermajesty and the embarrassment of last night, on the other hand, it meant you were completely aloneâŚwith Randy Jr
âyeah, just you and meâ he said as he turned back to the grill, picking up a clean plate from the side table. he piled it high with perfectly grilled sausages, thick-cut bacon, and a side of toasted bread he'd kept warm. âhm, you look a lil beatâ
âyou can tell?â you muttered, taking the warm plate from him
âa littleâ he chuckled, grabbing his own plate and gesturing toward the outdoor dining table. âcome on, sitâ
you both sat down on the comfortable patio chairs. the small talk came easily, you teased him about smoking a cigar at 10 in the morning, and he defended himself by saying there was no better pairing for grilling and he on vacation, then he asked how you were liking the house, and you kept your answers casual, somewhat pretending like last night didnât happen..at all
as you ate, you couldn't help but notice how relaxed he was but he always had this calming effortless, grounded charm that was incredibly easy to be around.
he finished off a piece of bacon and set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. his eyes locked onto you, a thoughtful expression on his face.
âsince we've got the whole place to ourselves today,â he started âwhat do you say to watching a movie in the cinema room downstairs laterâ
you looked at him, he had a lazy, confident smile on his lips, the sun catching the sharp lines of his chest. the lingering frustration from last night was still there, but looking at Randy, a very different, exciting kind of anticipation started to bloom
you took a sip of your orange juice and smiled back.
âyeahâ you said softly âiâm downâ
afternoon rolled around and the bright morning sun had faded into a lazy, overcast glow. after showering and changing into a fresh, comfortable set of loungewear, you headed down to the basement
the theater room was pitch-black except for the massive projection screen glowing at the front of the room. Randy was already there, he had changed into a pair of soft gray sweatpants but still shirtless
you walked in and took a seat on the large plush couch, settling down a couple of feet away from him. Randy glanced over, noticing the gap between you
âyou can sit closerâ he murmured âi don't biteâ
you let out a little giggle at his comment as you slid across the cushions until your side was pressed right against his warm ribcage. without a second thought, Randy draped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you securely against his chest. his thumb began to slowly stroke your shoulder, sending a shiver right down your spine
as the movie played, the dark room felt increasingly intimate. the unsatisfied tension from last night with Jermajesty was still humming under your skin, making you hyper aware of Randyâs warmth and the heavy scent of his cologne
leaning into his side, your hand naturally found its way to his thigh and yu began to mindlessly rub his lap, your fingers gently tracing the soft fabric of his gray sweatpants as you focused on the screen
he didn't object, his grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction as his thumb continued to caress your arm
but as you shifted your weight to get more comfortable, your hand slid a little too far inward
your fingers brushed directly against his lap, your palm flattening against his dick. even through the thick cotton of his sweatpants, the contact was unmistakable. he was semi-hard, and in that brief, accidental second, you caught a very clear feel of just how thick and large he was
you instantly pulled your hand back as if you'd been burned âshit- my bad i didnât mean to do thatâ you stammered, now putting your hands in your lap
Randy didnât tense up at all. he chuckled and looked down at you, his eyes full amusement
âdonât worry âbout itâ he murmured smoothly, brushing it off as he pulled you just a little bit closer ânothing to apologize forâ
as the movie continued to play, the memory of what youâd just felt in his lap was the only thing you could think about sending a pulse of heat straight to your core plus the frustration from last night was officially bubbling over, and you couldn't focus on the screen if you tried.
you shifted against his side, turning your head to look up at him. âi don't wanna watch this anymoreâ you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Randyâs eyes drifted away from the screen, locking onto yours in the dim light âwhat do you wanna watch then?â
instead of answering, you slid out from under his arm and climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs so you were looking directly down at him.
the change in position brought you very close together and through the thin fabric of your shorts and his sweatpants, you could feel him instantly twitch and harden beneath you
Randyâs hands instinctively came up to rest on your waist
âi don't knowâ you whispered, tilting your head slightly as you looked down at his lips
Randyâs eyes fluttered to your lips and back up to your face, he placed a hand on your waist, while his other hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, guiding your mouth to his
the moment your lips met, the restraint in the room completely evaporated
you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, arching your back and pressing yourself harder against his lap, your hands tangling into his short hair. Randy groaned deep in his throat, his tongue sliding past your lips and into your mouth, faintly tasting cigar from earlier
his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your hips as he began to roll his hips upward, meeting your pressure with a slow grind
the kiss grew deeper, the last of your hesitation melting away in the dark room, you let out a broken whimper, your hands moving from his hair down to his shoulders
he pulled one hand from your waist, his palm sliding up your ribcage, his thumb brushing the side of your breast through your shirt, the casual touch made your your back arching instinctively to press yourself into his hand
he tore his mouth away for a fraction of a second, immediately burying his face in the crook of your neck. he began to leave a trail of wet kisses along your jawline, his teeth nipping lightly against your skin
with his mouth busy tracing your throat, Randyâs hips rolled upward again, he met you with a slow, heavy grind that had you rubbing perfectly against his dick, even through the layers of your clothes
his hands slid down to cup your hips, his fingers digging in firmly as he guided your movements, setting a rhythm that had you whining softly
âRandyâ you gasped out, your fingers digging into his shoulders
âi've got youâ he rumbled, as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands sliding under the hem of your top
he pulled back just enough to look at you âwould you mindâŚif i taste you?â he asked
your brain momentarily short circuited at the sheer boldness of his question âwhat?â you gasped out, your voice breathless and barely a whisper
Randy gripped your hips and gently guided you backward and back met the plush cushions of the cinema couch. Randy slid down your body, settling between your knees
his hands slid under your thighs, lifting your legs and draping them over his shoulders
âi said..i wanna taste youâ he murmured, looking up at you from between your thighs
âyeahâ you whispered, slowly nodded
Randyâs hands slid up your calves, gently squeezing the back of your knees to keep you relaxed and open for him.
he pulled your shorts and panties off in one swift motion âso pretty..â
he leaned down and slid his tounge inside you, making you shiver and grip the cushions beneath you. he started lapping you up, but he didn't go fast or rough, he kept it incredibly soft and slow
his tongue moved in lazy, agonizingly deliberate strokes, tasting you with a pressure that made your hips instinctively twitch upward. he traced your sensitive folds with the tip of his tongue, swirling slowly around your clit
âRandy...â you gasped, your head rolling back against the couch cushions. you arched your back, your fingers digging deep into the fabric
he let out a low, muffled groan against your pussy, he ignored your silent plea for him to go faster, deliberately keeping the rhythm torturously slow and soft
Randy leaned in deeper, his tongue flattening out as he began eating you out incredibly, really good. he knew exactly what he was doing, his tongue swirling and pressing against your clit with a perfect, heavy pressure
âoh my god... Randyâ you whimpered, a broken, breathless moan escaping your lips as your eyes rolled back
hearing your reaction only seemed to drive him deeper, he gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you perfectly still as his tongue picked up the pace, lapping at you with a heavy friction that had your entire body trembling
âright there... shit, right thereâ you cried out, your hands flying to his hair, tangling your fingers in the short strands to hold him close âdon't stop, Randy, don't stop...â
a low muffled vibration rumbled in his chest against your inner thighs, acknowledging your praise but not slowing down for even a fraction of a second. he kept his tongue moving exactly where you wanted it, drowning you in a wave of pleasure
your hips rolled helplessly, trying to push closer to his mouth. you were so close your chest heaving as your breath came in shallow, desperate gasps
âRandy, i'm gonna...â you cried out, your voice cracking as your fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him against you
he locked his jaw and continued the current motion he was doing
your entire body went rigid. a loud, unfiltered moan released from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you in violent, pulsing waves. your thighs clamped tightly against his shoulders, your back arching completely off the couch as you rode out the orgasm
Randy stayed right there through every single pulse, his tongue continuing to lap gently at your sensitive skin, riding out the storm with you until your cries faded into ragged, trembling breaths.
slowly, your hips settled back onto the cushions. Randy slowly pulled back, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, he sat on his knees between your legs, looking up at you, his lips were wet, his dark hair slightly messy from your fingers, and a very pleased smirk was plastered across his face
you lay there for a long moment, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, your body still tingling from the aftershocks
Randy watched you with a quiet smug smirk on his lips softening into something much hungrier. he shifted, sliding back up the couch and sitting upright against the plush cushions. he reached down, his large hands wrapping around your waist, and easily pulled you up to sit straddling his lap once again
you looked down at him and slid your hands down his chest, tracing the sharp lines of his abs until your fingers reached the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Randyâs hands rested on your hips, watching as you slowly pushed the fabric down
his dick sprang free, fully erect, thick, and pre cum glistening at the tip. up close, seeing just how big and heavy he is made you bite your lip, you looked down at him and then back it
âyou sure about this?â Randy questioned, you didn't answer with words, instead you lifted your hips, aligning your entrance with his tip
Slowly, deliberately, you began to sink down and manâŚhe was incredibly thick, filling you out so completely that your eyes rolled back. Randy let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the couch as his eyes closed
âfuckâ he muttered as you took him all the way to the base
you gripped his shoulders for leverage and began to lift yourself, starting a slow, rolling rhythm
âRandy...â you gasped out, your voice cracking as you paused for a second, your hips resting against his lap. you looked down at him, your eyes wide and glossy with tears of pleasure âsâtoo bigâ
âtoo big?â he tilted his hips up slightly, burying himself even deeper, making you let out a high-pitched whimper. âitâs not even in all the wayâ
he laid his hands flat and firm against your waist, sliding it in deeper and began to drive up into you, thrusting his hips upward with a force that had you gasping for air
you clung to his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as your moans echoed loudly in the dark theater room. the slick, wet sounds of your bodies filled the air, completely drowning out the movie still playing silently on the screen
then he suddenly slowed down
he stopped the hard, deep thrusts, instead, he kept his flush against yours, grinding his weight in slow, agonizing circles that kept his dick deeply buried inside you, twitching against your tight walls.
you let out a frustrated whine, your hips twitching on his lap, trying to force him to keep moving âfuckâŚkeep goingâ
he chuckled and pushed himself deeper inside, you arched your and squeezed his shoulders
âyou just said I was too bigâ he murmured, his voice dripping with playful tone. he slowly pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the very tip to brush against your folds âis this better? less deep?â
you let out a frustrated fake laugh and looked at him âplease donât play with me right nowâ
he tilted his head to the side and gave you a cocky smirk âwhat?â âput it back inâ
âhow much you want itâ he teased, brushing his tip against your clit in tiny, agonizingly slow circles âask nicelyâ âyouâre so irritatingâ
he turned his head and leaned his ear closer âiâm not hearing you ask nicelyâ you sighed
âi want it. please, Randyâ he smirked, giving you a little nod âwant what?â
âi want you all the way inside meâ you pouted âplease RandyâŚi just want you to fuck meâ âthat's what I thoughtâ he mumbled
his hands gripped your hips and slammed you down on him, burying his entire length back inside you in one heavy, explosive thrust
the relentless friction of his thickness stretching you open was sending wave after wave of intense pleasure straight to your core. your fingers digging deep into his back as his hips drove up to meet yours with a heavy, wet rhythm.
âfuck! Randy...it's so much!"you cried out, your voice entirely breathless and raw. âitâs so fucking big!â
âtoo big?" he growled, his voice dropping into a dirty, gravelly register. âi thought you could handle itâŚtell me how good this big dick feels inside youâ
âit feels so goooodâ you whined, a high-pitched whimper escaping your lips as his crown brushed your deepest spot.
he paused for a fraction of a second, keeping himself buried to the hilt, letting you feel the absolute fullness of him âtell me where you feel it. how deep is it inside you?â
trembling, you pulled one hand away from his shoulder and pressed your palm flat against your lower stomach, just above your pelvis.
you gasped, your eyes rolling back as he twitched inside you, he smirked at your reaction as a idea came to his mind
âget on your feetâ you blinked down at him, your brain completely fried from the pleasure, looking at him with utter confusion. âhuh?, i can't... my legs are literally shakingâ
âi got you, get on your feet for meâ he repeated,
completely confused but utterly at his mercy, you slowly pushed yourself up. your knees trembled violently, you slowly pushed yourself up into a standing squat, your knees bent, planting your feet flat, still completely straddling his lap
rising onto your feet meant your hips lifted, pulling you almost entirely off his dick, leaving only the very tip of him inside you.
the sudden loss of warmth made you let out a desperate, disappointed whimper but before you could even complain, Randy reached up.
his hands wrapped securely around your hips and he pulled you straight down with a sudden, powerful jerk while simultaneously driving his hips upward.
âahâ!â
the sudden change in angle forced him even deeper into you, the gravity of your own body weight burying his thick dick to an impossible depth. now you definitely felt it in your stomach
âyeah, look at youâ Randy growled, looking up at you from below, his chest heaving as he stared at your completely ruined, ecstatic face.
âlook at how fucking deep it is nowâhe held you securely by the hips as he began to pull you down and push his hips up in a relentless, vertical rhythm.
every single plunge was incredibly deep, your knees buckling with every impact as he ruthlessly claimed you from below, the wet, heavy sounds of the friction echoing loudly in the dark room
âfuck! fuck! fuck!â you screamed, your head tossing back as you clung to the back of the couch for dear life. âit's too much!â
âhold on to meâ he commanded, his hands digging into your hips as he picked up the pace, his chest heaving as he rammed up into you
he shifted his grip slightly, his thumbs digging into the dimples of your lower back, guiding you into a faster, more punishing rhythm. the slick, squelching sounds of your bodies colliding grew frantic, completely filled the room. the tension building so rapidly in your lower stomach that your legs began to shake violently.
âoh my god! mâso close!â you screamed, your fingers digging into his shoulders now, trying to pull him closer even as the depth of his thrusts made you want to escape.
âcome on thenâ he commanded, his eyes burning into yours. he delivered three, four, five brutal, bottom out thrusts, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper âlet me feel you cumâ
you let out a broken, high-pitched moan as your walls clenched around him in a tight. the orgasm immediately hit you, snatching away all your strength.
at the feel of your tight, pulsing release, Randy lost the last of his restraint. he let out a couple of huffs, his head snapping back as he delivered one final, incredibly deep, driving thrust
be held you tightly against his hips, his body locking up as he came inside you, his thick dick pulsing deeply against your cervix as he filled you completely
for a long, breathless moment, the only sound in the theater was your matching, ragged breathing. slowly, your knees buckled completely, and Randy caught you, gently guiding you back down into his lap as you both melted into the plush cushions of the couch, tangled, exhausted, and utterly spent
hou lay across his chest for several minutes, your forehead resting in the crook of his neck as your heartbeats slowly synchronized. the heavy, lingering scent of sex and sweat enveloped you both in the quiet, dim glow of the basement screen. Randyâs hand rested gently on the middle of your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles against your bare skin while he caught his breath
âyou okay?â Randy murmured
âmy legs hurt so fucking badâ you mumbled into his skin, your voice muffled
a quiet, chest heaving laugh vibrated against you âyou were trying to tear my shoulders apart with your nails, but I'll take the credit for thatâ
ânigga you asked for itâ you chuckled softly, wincing slightly as you shifted on his lap. rvery muscle in your legs felt like complete jelly, and the sensitive, swollen ache between your thighs was a vivid reminder of just how deep heâd been
âcome on. let's get you cleaned upâ
before you could offer to walk he scooped you easily into his arms, carrying you bridle style out of the theater room. you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against his warm collarbone as he carried you up the basement stairs and down the quiet hallway to your assigned room
he kicked your bathroom door open with his foot and set you down gently on the edge of the marble counter. while you sat there catching your bearings, Randy reached into the deep soaking tub, turning the handles to start a hot bath. he tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature until it was perfect
once the tub was half full, he turned around, picked you up under your arms, and carefully lowered you into the steaming water
a long, involuntary sigh of relief escaped your lips as the hot water enveloped your tired, aching muscles. you leaned your head back against the rim of the tub, closing your eyes as the warmth soothed the throbbing heat between your legs
âfeel good?â he asked, leaning his bare back against the bathroom vanity and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.
âunbelievableâ you whispered, opening one eye to look at him
âood cause if I had to carry you back downstairs, I was gonna charge you a valet feeâ he joked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips
you let out a soft laugh, splashing a little bit of water in his direction âyou're terribleâ
âI just spent the last hour giving you a full body workout" Randy chuckled, dodging the splash of water, he walked over, grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from the counter, and casually poured a generous splash under the running faucet. âbesides, i think i earned some rest. though, knowing Jermajesty and the guys, theyâre probably out hiking right now thinking weâre up here playing board games or somethingâ
you giggle as you thought about the contrast between Jermajesty leaving you cold the night before and what just happened in the basement
âyeah... board gamesâ you murmured, stirring the suds around with your toes
âtightâ Randy smiled, stepping over to sit down on the closed toilet lid next to the tub so he was at eye level with you
you leaned back against the smooth porcelain of the tub, resting your arms along the rim and letting the suds swirl lazily around your shoulders. fhe steam was doing wonders for your sore muscles
âsoâ you started, tilting your head with a small playful smirk as you picked up a handful of bubbles âdo you do this for every girl you fuck?â
Randy leaned his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to the edge of the tub, his eyes locking onto yours
âevery girl?â he echoed, his deep voice carrying a quiet laugh âfirst of all, i don't just fuck âevery girlâ and second, no, carrying someone up two flights of stairs and running a full bubble bath is premium service, you're getting the royal treatment because weâve been friends so longâ
âpremium service, huh?â you teased, blowing a tiny patch of foam off your palm in his direction âdo I need to leave a tip, or was the workout in the basement payment enough?â
âdefinitely payment enoughâ he chuckled, watching the foam float past him âin all seriousness though... no, i don't usually do all this but you're not just 'every girl,' are you?âŚplus i feel bad, your legs were shaking a lotâ
the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard for a second, making your chest flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the hot water
âsmooth Randyâ you murmured, biting back a smile as you looked up at him through your lashes. âreal smoothâ
âi only speak factsâ he said smoothly, leaning back with a wink. ânow relax you got about twenty minutes before this water cools down, and I plan on making sure you're fully rested before the rest of the house comes back tomorrow to ruin the quietâ
synopsis: you were supposed to just miss him while he was in new york. instead, you gave michael jackson a new title he definitely didnât see coming.
themes: bad! era michael x non famous! gf reader, animal lover michael, reader wants a dog, he refuses, reader is very sneaky, visits dog rescue, long distance phone calls, lots of fluff, michael calls you baby, princess, sweetie, sweet girl.
notes: Iâve had this idea in my head for so long and itâs the cutest!! why do I feel like michael would have acted like this!
Four months.
That was how long you had officially been living at Neverland, and every single morning you still woke up with the exact same quiet, disbelieving smile.
You were here. Not just visiting for a long weekend, and not staying for a few frantic days between leg-numbing international tours or marathon recording sessions down in Los Angeles. You actually lived here.
With Michael.
The man you had been hopelessly in love with for six long, breathtaking years.
You still remembered the very beginning. You had started dating just as he was stepping into the blinding, chaotic spotlight of the Thriller era, right around the time a certain baby chimpanzee came into his life. Back then, hiding from paparazzi in cramped hotel rooms, you never could have imagined that one day youâd be walking through the sprawling, sunlit halls of his own private sanctuary. You couldn't have pictured watching Bubbles swing from the oak trees on the immaculate grounds, or sitting beside Michael on the floor of the living room late at night, sipping hot chamomile tea while the two of you debated which corner of the twenty seven hundred acres you wanted to explore next.
Michael had always had a soft spot for animals. A massive, undeniably eccentric one.
The grounds were practically their own little kingdom. There were exotic creatures, rescued animals, birds of paradise, llamas, giraffes, and everything in between. Bubbles hadn't just become a pet; he was part of the family, complete with his own tiny wardrobe. Michael treated every single living thing on the estate with the exact same gentle, soft spoken tenderness he showed the people he loved most.
Which was why you couldnât understand one simple thing.
Why on earth he wouldnât let you get a dog.
It had started as subtle little hints. A dog magazine left wide open on the kitchen island, displaying a picture of a little white fluffy puppy. A dramatic sigh while walking hand-in-hand around the private lake.
"Look how sweet that little stray dog was on the news tonight, Michael."
Michael would just smile that knowing, dazzling smile, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners because he knew exactly what you were doing.
"Princess..." he would sing song playfully, trailing a finger down your arm.
"What?" youâd reply, making your eyes as wide and innocent as humanly possible.
"Youâre trying to manipulate me."
Youâd just grin and kiss his jawline. "Is it working?"
"Not a chance, sweet girl," he'd chuckle, shaking his head.
But one lazy Tuesday afternoon in the main kitchen, you finally decided that subtle hints had run their course.
You were leaning against the cool marble counter while Michael, clad in one of his oversized red corduroy shirts and black trousers, poured himself a glass of orange juice. He was completely relaxed, softly humming a melody under his breath, utterly unaware that you were about to ambush him.
"Michael?"
"Hmm?" he murmured, setting the pitcher down.
"I want a dog."
He stopped dead in his tracks. The glass froze halfway to his lips. He set it down very deliberately, turned to face you, and shook his head.
"No, angel. Absolutely not."
You blinked, caught off guard by how fast he shot it down. "Why not?"
"Because they chew on things," he said seriously, adjusting his collar as if stating scientific facts. "They make a mess of the house. They have accidents on rugs. They bark at three in the morning."
You stared at him, stunned.
There was a long, heavy pause where the only sound was the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer.
Then, you folded your arms tightly across your chest. "Excuse me?"
Michael looked at you, a flicker of sheer amusement dancing in his eyes because he already knew he was walking straight into a trap.
"Michael. You have a goddamn chimpanzee living in our house," you said, voice rising. "He literally threw a half eaten peach at my hair yesterday because I wouldn't let him have my spoon!"
He tilted his head, biting back a full-blown grin. "He was expressing himself, baby. And he apologized afterwards, didn't he? He gave you a hug!"
You threw your hands up in complete disbelief. "And you have a literal zoo down the driveway! There is a giant python in a glass box down the hall!"
"Itâs not a zoo," he corrected softly, his voice dropping into that sweet, defensive register he always used when protecting his animals. "It's a sanctuary, sweet girl. It's different."
"Michael!"
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you and wrapping his long arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "No dogs in the main house, sweetie. I'm firm on this one. I mean it."
You narrowed your eyes, trying to resist the warmth of his embrace. "Youâre completely impossible."
He just laughed that bright, musical sound and kissed your forehead, and slid out of the kitchen, entirely convinced the conversation was officially over and done with.
Except it wasnât.
Every now and then, you brought it up. Youâd sigh dramatically when you passed someone walking a golden retriever in town.
Youâd casually mention how nice it would be to have a little furry companion trotting behind you through the empty halls of Neverland while he was busy recording down in Los Angeles.
Michael noticed. Of course he noticed. But he assumed eventually you would drop it.
He was incredibly wrong.
The very first day after Michael flew out to New York for three packed days of business meetings and studio sessions, the main house felt unnervingly silent.
Driven by a sudden stroke of inspiration and a phone tip from your older brother you decided to drive out into the Santa Barbara countryside to visit a small, family run animal rescue heâd recommended.
The shelter was modest, filled with the loud chorus of barking dogs, the smell of clean straw, and the clatter of metal cages. A warm, gray-haired woman named Clara greeted you at the front desk, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Hi there! Can I help you find someone specific today?" Clara asked warmly, before blinking twice as she took you in. She clearly recognized you from the local papers, but to her credit, she kept her cool.
"Hi," you smiled, looking around the brightly lit room. "My brother told me about this place. I'm... well, I'm just looking."
"Take all the time you need, honey," Clara smiled, gesturing down the long hallway of enclosures. "Most of our little guys are eager for some company."
You walked slowly down the aisle, greeting eager pugs, sleepy mutts, and energetic terriers. But then, near the very back in a cozy, blanket-lined crate, you saw him.
A tiny, snowball of a puppy with big, round black eyes, a button nose, and soft, curly white fur that was slightly overgrown. A Bichon Frise, looking tiny and hopelessly lost in the middle of the noisy kennel.
The moment you stopped in front of his cage, he scrambled to his feet, his little tail whipping back and forth so fast his whole back end wiggled. He put his tiny white paws up against the wire mesh and let out a soft, tiny, squeaky little yip.
Your heart melted on the spot.
"Oh, look at you..." you whispered, dropping down to your knees in front of the gate.
Clara walked up behind you, leaning against the wall with a soft smile. "Ah, that little fella. Someone dropped him off three days ago. Left him in a box on our doorstep. Sweetest little soul you'll ever meet, but he gets terribly lonely. He hates being by himself."
You reached a finger through the wire, and the puppy immediately rested his tiny chin right against your skin, licking your knuckle with eager devotion.
"Can I hold him?" you asked softly, not taking your eyes off him.
"Of course you can, sweetheart."
Clara unlatched the door, and the second you scooped the fluffy warm bundle into your arms, he buried his little face right into the crook of your neck, letting out a deep, contented puppy sigh.
You were completely, utterly a goner.
You didn't adopt him that exact afternoon you wanted to be sure it wasn't just an impulsive reaction to missing Michael. But you went back the next day. And the day after that. You spent hours sitting on the concrete floor of the rescue room, playing with him, letting him chew on your shoelaces while Clara brought you tea.
By the third afternoon, you were sitting at Clara's wooden desk, filling out the formal adoption papers.
Clara handed you the clipboard and a blue ballpoint pen. "Alright, just sign here at the bottom, dear. And we just need the names of the primary caretakers for our records."
You hesitated for half a second, staring at the blank line marked Legal Guardian(s).
A mischievous grin spread slowly across your face. You leaned down and carefully wrote your name, followed by a neat, bold:
Michael J. Jackson
Clara picked up the paper, read the line, and let out a rich, hearty laugh. "Michael J. Jackson, huh? You sure he knows he's legally responsible for a four pound ball of fluff?"
"Oh, he doesn't know yet, but he'll find out very soon," you laughed, picking up the small carrier. "What's his name on the intake sheet again?"
"We've just been calling him Pup, but he needs a real name," Clara smiled, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his floppy white ears.
You looked down into the carrier at the little white dog, who looked strikingly like a piece of dough or a tiny sweet pastry. "Crumble," you declared softly. "His name is Crumble."
That night, back at the estate, you were curled up on the edge of the massive king sized bed in the master bedroom, holding the landline receiver tightly against your ear. Crumble was fast asleep on a plush towel right beside your hip, breathing softly.
The phone rang three times before the line picked up, accompanied by the faint crackle of long distance static.
"Hello?"
The sound of his voice soft, raspy, and clearly exhausted instantly sent a wave of warmth rushing straight to your chest.
"Hi, Mikey," you breathed, leaning back against the pillows.
"Hi, angel," Michael murmured. You could hear the rustle of hotel bedsheets on his end, the ambient murmur of New York traffic fading out in the background. "I was hoping you'd call. I just got back to the suite."
"I miss you so much," you said honestly, your voice dipping low. "The house is way too big without you in it, Mikey. It feels echoey and weird."
Michael let out a soft, heavy sigh through the phone, the sound intimately close despite the thousands of miles between you.
"You have no idea, sweet girl. I didn't realise it was going to be this hard being away from you this time. I walked into the hotel bedroom tonight and I just... I just wanted to turn around and come right back home to you. I really didn't realise how tough it would be."
"Did your meetings go okay today?" you asked gently.
"They were so long, angel," he groaned playfully. "Just executives talking numbers all day. All I could think about was getting back to California. I kept looking at the clock, calculating the time difference, wondering what you were doing. Did you eat dinner?"
"I did," you lied slightly, having mostly snacked while staring at the puppy. "Did you?"
"A little bit. Bill made me drink some soup," Michael chuckled faintly. "I just want to hold you. I hate sleeping in these giant hotel beds alone."
You bit your lip, glancing down at Crumble, who stirred slightly in his sleep and kicked one tiny white back leg.
"Well, you don't have to wait much longer. You fly back tomorrow afternoon, right?"
"Right after lunch," Michael promised, his voice thick with sleep. "I'll be home before sunset. You promise you'll be waiting for me?"
"I'll be right at the front door," you smiled. "I love you."
"I love you more, baby. Sleep well for me, okay?"
"Goodnight, Mikey."
When Michaelâs SUV finally pulled up the long, winding driveway the next afternoon, the sun was just beginning to cast long, golden shadows across the stone courtyard.
You were standing by the heavy oak front doors, your heart hammering against your ribs like a nervous teenager's. You had spent the last hour double checking that Crumbleâs food bowls were hidden in the butler's pantry and that the little guy was tucked safely out of sight for the initial entrance.
The car door opened, and Michael stepped out. He looked tired from the cross country flight, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, a black fedora, and an oversized red satin jacket over a black shirt. But the second his eyes met yours across the gravel, a massive, brilliant smile broke across his face.
He didn't even wait for his security guard to grab his bags. He walked straight toward you, opening his arms wide.
You ran out to meet him on the porch, throwing your arms around his neck. Michael caught you easily, lifting you an inch off your feet and pulling you tightly against his chest, burying his face into the side of your neck.
"Hi, sweet girl," he whispered softly into your hair, holding you close for a long, quiet moment. "God, I missed you."
"I missed you more," you murmured, kissing his jaw as he set you back down.
He wrapped a arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as you walked into the warm, grand living room. He wasn't suspicious at all; he was just completely relieved to be home, kissing the top of your head as you walked.
"I'm so glad to be back," Michael sighed happily, kicking off his loafers. "New York was exhausting. I just want to sit on the couch with you all evening andâ"
He stopped dead in his tracks midway across the Persian rug.
Sitting right on the floor near the grand piano was a tiny, bright pink squeaky toy shaped like a bone. And right beside the sofa was a pristine, tiny wicker basket lined with a soft blue fleece blanket.
Michael stood entirely still. His hands fell to his hips. He looked at the pink bone. He looked at the wicker basket.
Then, very slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his brows furrowed in complete confusion.
"Sweetie..." he said, his voice dropping an octave into a low, questioning tone. "What is that?"
"It's a basket, Mikey," you said innocently, folding your hands behind your back.
"Why is there a pink rubber bone on my floor?" he asked, pointing down at it. "Did Bubbles leave that there? That's not Bubbles' toy."
Before you could answer, a tiny, soft scratching sound echoed from behind the armchair, followed by a ridiculously high pitched, breathless little sneeze.
Michael froze completely.
From behind the velvet armchair, a tiny white ball of pure fluff came stumbling out onto the hardwood. Crumbleâs ears flopped around as he trotted forward, his little black nose twitching wildly in the air as he caught the unfamiliar scent of Michael's socks.
The puppy stopped about two feet away from Michael, tilted his tiny head completely to the side, and let out a soft, high pitched yip!
Michael just stared. He looked like he had just seen an alien land in the middle of his living room.
"Baby..." Michael breathed out, pointing a long finger downward, his eyes wide with shock. "What... what is that creature?"
"This," you said proudly, walking over and scooping the tiny Bichon into your arms, "is Crumble."
Michael blinked, looking between you and the dog. "Crumble?"
"Yes. He's a Bichon Frise." You stepped right up to him, holding the little fluffball close. "And he's our new dog. In fact, I already signed all the official shelter paperwork while you were in New York."
Michael's jaw practically dropped. "You did what?!"
"Yep," you grinned mischievously. "And before you get mad... I put you down as his legal guardian."
Michael stared at you in absolute disbelief. "You put me down on official documents?"
"I sure did," you smiled proudly. "Right next to my name I signed yours, it says 'Michael J. Jackson: Daddy'."
"You made me Crumble's daddy?!" Michael squeaked, throwing his hands in the air, though a helpless smile was already fighting to break through his serious expression.
"Angel! We talked about this! I said no! Dogs make messes, they chew things, theyâ"
"Michael, look at him," you interrupted softly, holding the puppy out slightly toward his chest. "He weighs four pounds. He doesn't chew things. And he was so lonely at the shelter, Mikey."
Michael opened his mouth to deliver what was clearly meant to be a stern lecture, but Crumble chose that exact moment to take matters into his own hands.
The little puppy reached out with his tiny front paws, squirming in your arms and letting out a soft, tiny whimpering sound. Crumble scrambled slightly, reaching directly toward Michael's red satin jacket, clearly wanting nothing more than a big cuddle from him.
Michael looked down at the puppy's little face. Crumble's big, black, glossy eyes were staring straight up at him, begging to be held.
Michael's stern expression cracked completely. He bit his bottom lip, trying so hard to stay firm, but a wide, brilliant smile broke across his face.
"Don't look at me like that," Michael murmured down at the dog, his voice dropping into that sweet, high pitched tone he used for babies and animals.
Crumble whimpered again, reaching his tiny paws out further toward Michael's chest.
With a heavy, dramatic sigh of total defeat, Michael reached out and gently took Crumble out of your arms.
"You are completely unbelievable," Michael muttered to you, though there was zero anger left in his tone.
The second Michael pulled the puppy against his chest, Crumble let out a happy little sigh and instantly snuggled right into the crook of Michael's neck. The puppy rested his fluffy white chin right against Michael's collarbone, his tiny tail thumping rhythmically against Michael's arm. Crumble reached up and gave Michael's chin one fast, affectionate little lick before melting completely into the warmth of his red jacket.
"Oh, goodness," Michael giggled softly, a bright, helpless sound echoing through the quiet living room.
He didn't pull away. Instead, Michael walked over to the large plush sofa and sat down, carefully cradling the little white dog against his chest like a newborn baby. He brought one hand up, using two slender fingers to gently stroke the soft fur behind Crumble's floppy ears.
Crumble closed his eyes, completely content, fast asleep in his new daddy's arms within seconds.
You walked over and sat down right next to Michael on the cushions, leaning your shoulder against his arm and watching the two of them with a triumphant grin.
"See?" you whispered softly. "I told you. He just wanted a cuddle from his daddy."
Michael looked down at the tiny sleeping puppy in his arms, his dark eyes incredibly warm, a soft, helpless smile resting on his lips as his fingers continued to lightly stroke the dog's soft white coat.
"He's so small, angel," Michael murmured quietly, his voice full of tender wonder as he looked over at you. "He really just wanted to cuddle?"
"He's been wanting to cuddle you since I brought him home," you smiled, wrapping your arm around Michael's waist.
Michael shook his head with a slow, fond chuckle, leaning over to press a sweet, lingering kiss against your lips while Crumble stayed safely cradled on his chest.
"You win, sweet girl," Michael whispered against your cheek, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you close. "You win. Now stay right here... I think all three of us need a nap."
summary: i like the way you kiss me when weâre playing the kissing game
notes: HERE DAMN
the Jackson house was louder than usual
music spilled from every room, laughter echoed down the hallways, and the smell of homemade soul food mixed with expensive cologne and birthday cake. Katherine had insisted on cooking nearly everything herself despite everyone offering to help, while Jackie proudly greeted guests at the front door like he was hosting the biggest event in California.
after allâŚtoday was Jermaineâs twenty-first birthday
âgirl, hurry up!â LaToya called from the staircase, already halfway down âif you donât stop looking in that mirror, everybody gonna be gone by the time we get downstairsâ
you rolled your eyes with a laugh âiâm coming Toyaâ âyou been saying that for ten minutesâ
you grabbed your lip gloss off the dresser one last time before following her
growing up around the Jackson family meant this house felt almost like a second home. your parents had been friends with Katherine and Joseph long before the Jackson 5 became worldwide stars, so birthdays, holidays, sunday dinners, it wasnât unusual for you to be there
you and LaToya especially had become inseparable, all the sleepovers, shopping trips with matching outfits every now and then.
the moment you reached the living room, people were everywhere. family members hugged one another, friends crowded around the record player and reporters had thankfully been kept away for the evening, giving everyone a chance to actually relax.
âhappy birthday, Jer!â someone shouted. across the room, Jermaine laughed as another relative pulled him into a hug.
hou hadnât seen him much lately all the touring kept him busy and recording kept him busier but somehowâŚhe looked olderâŚmore confident.
ââŚdonât stareâ LaToya whispered, bumping your shoulder with a smirk âi wasnâtâ âmmhmmmâ âi wasnâtâ
âyouâve been looking at my brother for like⌠thirty secondsâ âi was admiring the decorationsâ âthe decorations wearing a burgundy suit?â
your face warmed âoh hush!â LaToya burst into laughter before dragging you toward the kitchen
a couple hours laterâŚ
dinner had been eaten, cake had been cut and Jermaine had opened more presents than he knew what to do with
the adults naturally settled upstairs in the living room, talking over card games, old memories, and glasses of wine
which only meant one thing.
someone leaned against the doorway with a mischievous grin
âayeâŚthe basement?â
immediately, every person under twenty-five looked at each other.
âoh, say lessâ âiâm comingâ âletâs go!â
within seconds everyone was sneaking downstairs, trying not to attract too much attention
the basement had unofficially become the spot whenever family gatherings got too crowded.
no parents hovering, no little kids running around, just music, dancing, jokes, and enough drinks to make everybody forget they promised Katherine theyâd âonly be downstairs talking.â
someone rolled in a crate of records and another grabbed a few bottles from a cooler
before long, the room filled with the sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers, The Commodores, Ohio Players, and Parliament
people paired off on the makeshift dance floor while others leaned against the walls with plastic cups in hand, laughing over stories from school and concerts.
you stayed beside LaToya, swaying to the music as the two of you watched everyone else act a fool
âtold you theyâd all end up down hereâ she laughed âItâs traditionâ âyeah a dangerous traditionâ
âmind if I borrow her?â you turned toward the familiar voice. Jermaine stood there, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a red plastic cup
LaToyaâs grin stretched ear to ear âOooâŚâ she looked between the two of you before dramatically stepping aside
âsheâs all yours~â âLaToya.â âwhat?â she giggled âitâs his birthdayâ
before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing face to face with the birthday boy
Jermaine smiled, rubbing the back of his neck âsoâŚyou been avoiding me all night?â your eyebrows lifted âyou think iâve been avoiding you?â âthatâs what it looked like mamaâ âi mean i figured the birthday man was too busyâ
âalright, alright! everybody listen up!â Jackie clapped his hands together
âi got a gameâ he started âoh Lord,â Tito mutteredJackie ignored him âweâre playing the Kissing gameâ
groans and cheers erupted at the same time
Jermaine pointed at his older brother with a laugh âsig you just want some nookie!â
Jackie rolled his eyes dramatically âwill you let me explain before you start talking?â Jackie stood in the middle of the circle, holding up an empty glass beer bottle
âhereâs how it works. one lucky guy gets blindfolded, somebody spins him around three times, then he picks three girls from the circle, and kisses only one and if he guesses who correctlyâŚâ he paused for effect, ââŚthe two of them have to spend seven minutes in heavenâ
a chorus of playful boos and laughter echoed around the room.
âthatâs foulâ âsounds riggedâ someone else called out.
âitâs supposed to be!â Jackie shot back
within minutes everyone had formed a large circle on the carpet, Jermaine sat next to you and leaned in close âi hope i get to kiss you⌠you have pretty lipsâ and whispered leaving you a little flustered
the first round began with plenty of teasing and wrong guesses, leaving everyone doubled over laughing
as the game continued, the bottle spun againâŚand this time, it stopped in front of Jermaine
a chorus of dramatic âooooh!â filled the room as everyone started cheering
the bottle rolled in a lazy circle across the hardwood floor before wobbling to a stop in front of Jermaine.
a chorus of dramatic gasps filled the room.
Jackie tossed him a black bandana with a smirk. âcome on Romeo, letâs see if youâre really smoothâ
Jermaine stood in the middle of the circle, letting Jackie tie the blindfold securely over his eyes âi canât see a thingâ âgoodâ Jackie laughed, grabbing him by the shoulders ânow donât throw upâ
everyone counted together âoneâŚâ Jackie spun him âtwoâŚâ another turn âthree!â
Jermaine stumbled sideways, arms stretched out while the room erupted into laughter âman, yâall got me dizzy!â
Jackie steadied him before pointing toward the circle âalright, pick your threeâ
Jermaine slowly reached out âyouâ one girl stood and walked over, trying not to giggle
his hand drifted again ââŚyouâ another girl joined the first
the room suddenly grew quieter as Jermaine pointed one last time ââŚand youâ
you looked around, eyes widening âme?â âgo on!â LaToya whispered, nudging your shoulder
trying to ignore the eyes watching, you stood and walked beside the other girls.
Jackie leaned close to Jermaine âalright maineâ
Jermaine couldnât see you, but somehow it felt like he knew you were there, your heart hammered against your ribs as he stepped closer towards you
you hesitated for a second before leaning in and closing the space between the two of you
the kiss lasted only a moment, but when you pulled away, Jermaine smiled almost immediately
ây/n?â he reached up and slipped the blindfold off himself and looked down at you, cheekily licking his lips âhey mamaâ
âi told yâall!â âno way!â âtheyâre going to the closet!â
Jermaine looked directly at you with a grin that somehow managed to be both smug and charming âi guess we got seven minutesâ
you rolled your eyes and poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue as everyone started chanting
âcloset! closet! closet!â
Jackie dramatically opened the nearby coat closet like he was introducing royalty âyour honeymoon suite awaitsâ Jermaine laughed before offering you his hand
you looked at it for a second before taking it. the second the closet door clicked shut behind you, the muffled laughter from outside became distant
the small space was lit only by the crack beneath the door, you awkwardly folded your arms, suddenly fascinated by the coats hanging beside you
Jermaine noticed the distance between the two of you and chuckled ââŚwhy are you all the way over there mama?â you glanced up âwhat?â
he took one small step closer âi promiseâŚâ he said with an amused smile âi donât bite, not unless you ask me toâ
you laughed nervously âi knowâ âthen whyâre you standing like Iâm about to interrogate you?â âiâm notâ âyou areâ âiâm just⌠giving you spaceâ
âi donât want spaceâ he leaned casually against the wall, folding his arms, your face instantly heated âyou flirt with everybody, donât you?â
he chuckled and shook his head âi flirt with pretty girls that catch my attentionâ âi catch your attention?â âyou always have and you knowâŚyou were the only one I was hoping itâd beâ
your heart skipped âyou guessed pretty fastâ
âi didnât have to thinkâ he smiled confidently âthe second I kissed you, I knewâ
you looked up at him, trying to hide another smile âyouâre smoothâ âiâve been toldâ
he leaned in just enough for your noses to be only inches apart âcome on mamaâŚi told you, i donât biteâ he teased, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze again
you laughed quietly and closed the tiny gap between you
Jermaineâs lips finally met yours, a his hands settled firmly on your waist. your hands slid up his chest and draped over his shoulders, fingers lightly tangling at the nape of his neck. he hummed softly against your mouth, taking control and deepening the kiss
his fingers slid down from your waist, his grip tightening as his hands settled on your hips before dipping lower, cupping the curve of your ass, 6ou gasped against his mouth, and Jermaine took full advantage, slipping his tongue past your lips as he gave a firm, teasing squeeze
the rhythm of the kiss broke down entirely into something much more breathless and hungry. it grew delightfully sloppy and heated, the sound of soft lips, quick breaths, and rustling coats filling the tiny closet. Jermaine leaned his weight into you, pressing you back against the wall while one of his hands delivered a sharp, playful slap to your ass, making you jump and deepen the kiss even further as your hands held tight to his shoulders.
he groaned softly into your mouth, his head tilting to catch your lips at a deeper angle, entirely consumed by the heat building between you two
without breaking the kiss, Jermaine slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you off your feet and you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist to lock yourself against him.
he pressed you firmly against the closet wall, the wood grooving slightly under your weight, but his grip on you was solid and unwavering. the angle made the kiss even deeper and more intense
your hands tangled in his fro, pulling him closer as the kiss grew heavier, completely lost in the rhythm of his mouth while your heels dug gently into the back of his thighs
a loud, sudden knock rattled the wood behind your back, followed by the light flooding into the narrow closet
âalright, seven minutes is up-â Jackie cut himself off, his jaw practically dropping as he took in the sight of you pinned against the wall with your legs wrapped around his brother, and Jermaine looking back with wet swollen lips, completely unbothered by the sudden audience
Jermaine didn't even drop you, his breathing heavy as he shot Jackie an irritated glare over his shoulder.
âman, i ain't done yetâ Jermaine said âclose the door. weâll be out in a bitâ
Jermaine turned his attention right back to you, a slick, satisfied grin spreading across his face in the shadows âyou wanna take this up to my room in a bitâ
jaafar jackson x f!reader ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ ⥠wc: 11.3k
synopsis: jaafar learns you've never had an orgasm (like whatttttt) :o so he decides to show u
cw: smut, childhood bsf!jaafar, hints of possessive undertones (?), tension, dry humping, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, soft!dom jaafar :DD, straight up filth im sorry
can u guys tell i missed jaafar
half-edited
dating is hell. plain and simple.
the whole concept of putting on a nice outfit, spending your precious time getting ready, and driving across town just to sit across from a guy who couldn't care less about anything you have to say is exhausting. you werenât even big on casual dating to begin with, but your friends had spent three weeks nagging you about this guy youâd met at a party â insisting he was sweet, handsome, and totally your type.
he wasnât.
the date was a complete disaster from start to finish. you wouldâve at least given him a point for driving across town to pick you up at your place, but that didn't even scratch the bare minimum considering what he put you through the rest of the night. he showed up twenty minutes late without so much as a quick text or apology, spent the first half of dinner monologuing about his workout routine, and spent the second half checking his phone under the table. by the time the bill came, he acted like heâd bought you a house instead of two watered down drinks, leaning in at the end of the night with a sleazy, expectant grin like he fully counted on an invitation to your apartment.
you didn't even let him drive you home. the second you excused yourself to the restroom, you pulled out your phone.Â
can u come get me?
his reply came back almost immediately.
send me the address. iâm on my way.Â
that was just how it was with him.
it had always been that way. ever since you two were kids running around his house, scraping your knees on the driveway and playing around. jaafar was your safe haven. he knew every single thing about you â every secret, every insecurity, every terrible decision â and you knew him just as deeply. you knew the insane work ethic he hid behind his easygoing nature, and the grounding presence he brought into your life whenever the rest of the world felt overwhelming. when nobody else listened, jaafar did.Â
a few minutes later, his car pulled up to the curb.
jaafarâs eyes swept over you as you walked to his passenger door. you were wearing a short white sundress. it was tight at the waist, flowy at the bottom, with a low scoop at the neck. maybe even a bit too low, not that he should be noticing that anyway.
by the time he put the car in park and rolled the windows down you were right there, resting your arms on the edge of the driverâs side window as you leaned through it. you brought the summer heat in with you, coming so close he could smell your perfume. a new scent, but the same old proximity. you never had much of a sense of personal space with him.Â
plus, he didnât mind when you leaned so far over into the body of his car that the neckline of your pretty dress fell open. but he kept his eyes on yours.
you were all done up. you'd made an effort tonight, and he could see it. you looked down at him through heavy lashes, your glossy lips tugging into a smile.
he wondered how someone couldâve fucked up that badly on a date with you.
âare you the uber i ordered?â you grinned.
âoh you think youâre funny, donât you?â
âone of us has to be the funny one.â
he smiled at you as he scanned your expression.
you were smiling too, bright and easy. anyone else would've believed it. but he knew better.
âhowâs my comedian doing?â he asked. âyou okay?â
you let out a dramatic sigh. âiâm fine. itâs not a big deal.â
âbut you made me come pick you up. that sounds like a big deal.â
there was a moment of heavy silence, and then you let your smile relax.
âif iâm being honest, iâm better now that youâre here. so thank you.â you said.
âyou never have to thank me,â he said, shifting his car into park.
he pushed the door open, and you stepped back to give him room. he stepped into the space, now being the one to look down at you. he was always so much taller than you, even when u were kids.
he opened his arms wide, giving you an unsaid invitation.
a small smile broke across your face as you stepped right into him, melting against his frame. you pressed your cheek firmly into the center of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and wrapped your arms tight around his torso.
he closed his arms around you instantly, pulling you flush against him. one of his large, warm hands settled flat against the small of your back, holding you close, while the other rested gently against the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. he rested his chin right on top of your head.
it was a short hug but it instantly made you feel better.
when you pulled back, he leaned and rested his side against the car âso... what do you want to do?â he asked. âgo somewhere? i can take you home."
you chewed on your lip. âsure, you can take me home, if thatâs easier.â
if he was anyone else, he would've taken your answer at face value. but then his eyes drifted over you, your dress, your hair. you'd spent all this time getting ready, it shouldn't all be for nothing
"actually,â he corrected. âwhy don't we go somewhere?"
"yeah?" you smiled.
"yeah." he signaled toward the passenger side with a tilt of his head, guiding you over. you expression was brighter as he opened the passenger door for you.Â
you were already settled intot he passenger seat by the time he realized it was as far back as it is.
jermajesty had been riding shotgun earlier with his legs stretched all the way out, and jaafar had completely forgotten to adjust the seat back to its usual position â or more like your preferred position.
he rested one hand on the roof of the car and ducked his head in, leaning right over your lap to reach down. his knuckles brushed against the side of your thigh as he pressed the little switch on the side of the seat, sending it humming smoothly forward along its track.
âsorry,â he murmured. âforgot to move it back for you.â
the seat hummed softly as it adjusted, and jaafar did mean to look up at you. but as he raised his gaze â from the button on the side of the seat, to where you were sitting, with your leg resting just a few inches from his hand â his eyes caught on your thigh.
but before he could stop himself, his gaze lingered. the hem of your dress had ridden up just enough to leave the smooth curve of your upper thigh bare.
god, that dress.
you put this dress on for him? for some random guy who didn't even care to look at you? the thought made his jaw lock so tight his back teeth ached. some idiot who wouldn't spend a dime on you, who wouldn't even think to buy you all the pretty dresses you wanted, got to sit across from you looking like this. got to look at you done up so sweet, when he didn't deserve to even be in the same room as you.
âi couldâve moved the seat myself, jaafar.â you laughed, completely oblivious to his glance, and thankfully, to all the nasty thoughts running wild in his head. âi know how to press a button.â
he was still trying to recover from that glance, barely even noticing that heâd adjusted the seat more than enough. in fact, you were now face to face, and he was looking you dead in the eyes. his mind was still on that dress. that dress on you, and that smile on your face, and that perfume filling his head, dizzying him.
you cocked your head to the side. âbut it is kinda nice, though. getting taken care of.â
taken care of.
you really shouldnât have said that, because something was now flashing through his head that he absolutely shouldnât be thinking about; laying you down, shoving your pretty little sundress up, kneeling between your legs, your thighs shaking on his shoulders as his fingers grazed over your skin.
taking care of you and treating you right, the way you should be.
your fingers tangled and tugging at his hair, his tongue on yourâ
âjaafar?â your eyes were locked on his. âhello? did you just zone out?â
he pulled back when he broke out of his daze.
âsorry,â he said quickly, âi was just thinkingââ about things he shouldnât have, looking at places he shouldnât have. ââsome things i have to do this week.â
horrible excuse, but it was the best he could do.
he shut the door.
âi think itâs nice that you always open doors for me. there are like⌠no gentlemen left nowadays.â
gentlemen? fuck.
if he were actually a gentleman, he wouldnât have been looking at you like that.
âopening doors is the bare minimum.â
âmm, well at least one guy gets it.â
but what about all the other guys, though? the guys who did next to nothing and called it enough, the ones who didn't even think about doing the bare minimum for you â why were you wasting your time on men who didnât even care enough to see what they had right in front of them?
but that wasn't any of his business, though. just like it wasn't any of his business what you looked like beneath your dress. he'd crossed a line looking at you the way he did. he shouldn't have been imagining any of that.
and he definitely had no business calling your name right then.
you glanced up at him like through the rolled-down window.
âyou look really good,â he murmured. âi hope you know that.â
a soft smile touched your lips. âyou think so?â
âyeah.â of course he did. heâd always thought you were. but he wasnât going say it out loud â he knew better.
what he needed to do was shake off whatever the hell those fantasies were â whereâd they even come from? that was never the nature of your relationship, and it never would be.
you dont see him that way anyway.
the worst part about all of it was that he knew exactly how you viewed him. a friend. and even knowing that, he still had that filth run through his mind.
pervert.
âthank you, j.â
ââcourse.â
he walked over to the driver's side of the car, fighting the dull ache twisting in his gut before sliding behind the wheel.
âso where are we going?â you asked, fiddling with the ac to how you want it.
"where do you want to go?â he asked softly.
"... can we go to the lake?"
it felt like forever since he was here with you last.
back before work and filming and life got too hectic for the two of you to make the long drive out.
yet here you were again, staring through the glass at the moonlit ripple of the lake. the place hadn't shifted a bit; completely untouched by time. standing so still, it felt like stepping back into an old memory.
there was a time when this turn-off belonged only to the two of you. it started years back, on a night youâd broken down in tears crying â something you almost never did. youâd told him you just wished you could get out for a bit, get some fresh air, and within minutes, his car was parked down the street from your house.
he watched you sneak out the back door, carefully avoiding the creaky steps so you wouldn't wake your parents. any trace of your tears had vanished the second you made it into his passenger seat, giddy from the excitement of sneaking out in the middle of the night. youâd told him to hurry up and drive before anyone noticed, telling him to take you somewhere far away.
and this was where he took you.
after that night, it became your go-to spot. whenever life got too overwhelming, or you just needed to disappear for a while, heâd pull up without a word and take you on the drive out to the water, sitting there with you for as many hours as you needed.
jaafar missed it.
a cool night breeze swayed the dark trees along the bank, rustling the leaves as the moonlight poured over the dashboard. the rolled down windows let the soft summer breeze in.
"we used to come here a lot," you murmured softly.
jaafar turned his head to look at you. the glow of the moon lit up your profile, softening your features and turning your eyes into dark pools that caught the faint light.
"yeah," he said, his voice quiet. "all the time."
you laughed. "i was always going through it back then. and you were always bringing me out here whenever i needed it."
"things were hard back then," he replied, watching you closely. "but they're better now, aren't they?"
you went quiet for a beat, staring out at the water as your smile slowly faded into something softer, a look on your face he couldn't quite read.
"yeah," you whispered. "but it's because of you. you always took care of me."
"i'll always take care of you," he said firmly, not missing a beat.
you looked away for a second, your fingers tangling together in your lap as you took a slow breath. "jaafarâ"
before you could finish, a heavy crack of summer thunder rattled the car, followed by the pounding of rain against the windshield.
jaafar rolled the windows back up, the sound of the rain muffling behind it. he turned the ac on high and watched the fog on the windshield spread.
he was about to ask you what you were saying but your phone chimed.
his eyes flickered down to your phone, a sudden urge to ask if it was him.
but it wasnât any of his business. so he lay his head back on the headrest, fiddling with the material of his sweatpants as you checked your phone.Â
turns out, he didnât need to ask.
âwhat an asshole,â you muttered. âno way he expects a second date after that.â
jaafar let out an exhale. âhe texted you?â
âyeah,â you sighed, holding the screen toward him. âheâs asking if i'm down for âround two.â can you believe this guy?â
jaafar didnât touch the phone, his eyes sweeping over the notification, shaking his head.
your phone chimed again.
you both look down at your phone screen at the same time.
maybe you can come over to my place this time
wyd now? are you in bed already?
jaafar clenched his jaw, prying his eyes away from your phone.Â
âheâs asking if im in bed?â you mused. âhow much do you wanna bet heâs gonna ask for nudes after all that.â
you were laughing, and he had his jaw clenched.Â
âdonât text him back.â it came out a bit rougher than he wouldâve liked.
âyouâre giving me orders now?â you snorted. âwhat are you, my dad?â
jaafar sighed, his eyes closing. âsorry.â
he knew he was being too intense, but he didnât know what had gotten into him tonight.Â
âis something bothering you, j?â
he inhales deeply. âi donât know.â he said. ââs justâŚâ
he rolled his head on the headrest to meet your eyes. you looked at him, expectantly â almost needy and he felt his throat tighten. he would give you anything in the world, give you whatever you need. care for you, protect you, and keep youâ
but you were not his.
so jaafar chose his next words carefully.
âif youâre not getting what you deserve,â he said. âthen drop him.â
he didnât want to sound too harsh. âitâs up to you, but i just donât like seeing you hurt. thatâs all.â
your eyes softened. âiâm not texting him back.â you said. âwasnât going to. heâs an asshole.â
he couldnât help but feel relieved.Â
you watched as his fingers moved over his sweatpants. he had a habit of doing that.Â
he was gentle in everything he did â always had been, at least with you. heâd only ever treated you gently. but tonight felt different. he felt different.
you donât know why you couldnât stop looking at them. you couldnât stop the feeling building in the pit of your stomach that intensified when you imagined him touching you with the same purpose.
you knew heâd be so good at it. jaafar was eager to please, eager to give â he always knew what to do.
he looked out through the rain-streaked windshield, a sliver of his tongue slipping out to trace his bottom lip before he bit down on it.
you imagined it on you, him running his tongue up your body.
the bite of his words from earlier still echoed in your head â don't text him back. drop him â heâd always been protective of you â that wasn't anything new. but again, it felt different.Â
âwhat is it?â he asked, meeting your eyes.
you were leaning closer now, resting your arm over the center console, oblivious to the way the thin strap of your dress slipped slightly down your shoulder.
his eyes flickered down for a second, his gaze wandering over your falling neckline, taking in the soft dip of your cleavage and the faint, lacy outline of your bra. before his thoughts could go any further, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, his throat working as he swallowed.Â
âcan i admit something to you, jaafar?â
âanything,â he said smoothly.
âwhen i was younger, i used to think all guys would be a little like you. caring and⌠selfless.â you paused, huffing out a laugh. âbut i found out most of them are the opposite.â
âwhat do you mean?â
âsome guys are just selfish. and some only want you for one thing.â
he was quiet for a second.
âi shouldnât have let you set the standard,â you murmured, a faint smile on your face. âyou gave them way too much to live up to.â
set the standard?
jaafar glanced at you as thunder rolled above, but you were looking out through the windshield again, your face unreadable.
âthere have to be some good guys out there,â he murmured softly. âthey canât all be bad.â
that made you laugh.
âoh, itâs all bad.â you turned back to face him, propping your chin on your hand. âi mean, iâve told you pretty much everything. but i never told you what a mess these guys are in bed, did i? they take selfish to a whole new level.â
in bed?Â
jaafar felt his mouth go dry, another image surfacing in his head, but one that put a pit in his stomach â someone elseâs hands on you.
his jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. âoh. really?â
god, he wasnât any better than them. here he was, secretly fantasizing about you while you sat right beside him, trusting him with your heart.
âreally,â you studied him with a curious look on your face. "you wanna know all the dirty details?â
he was torn â stuck between not wanting to picture another soul touching you and needing to know every single thing that fell short. he needed to know where they failed, everything that wasn't enough, just so he could fix it for you. so he could make it up to you.
but above all else, he pushed those feelings down. when he told you that you could tell him anything, he meant it.
âwe can talk it out.â he finally said.
âokay.â
and just like that, you were slouching forward over the console, leaning into his space just like old times â back when youâd bring him all the hot gossip from your friends. you trusted him implicitly, confiding in him the way you always had.
âjaafarâŚâ
you pursed your lips, a subtle, conspiratorial smile playing on your mouth. for a second, the closeness of you was dizzying.
â... none of the guys iâve been with have ever made me cum before.âÂ
fuck.
ânot a single one.â
there was a pressure in his chest, and he didnât know what it was from. he didnât even know what was suffocating him more â the sickening thought of another guy trying, the fact that every single one of them had failed and left you unsatisfied, or the realization that he knew he could do better. heâd been dying to see what you looked like when you were undone, dying to be the one to give it to you.
âreally?â he breathed out, his voice barely a murmur.
âreally,â you said, a faint smile touching your lips. âi always have to take care of myself.â
he had to swallow hard to keep from sputtering out. god.
âmaybe itâs because⌠you donât really know them?â he muttered, looking away toward the window. a dry, awkward laugh escaped him. he didnât even know what the fuck he was saying anymore. âlike⌠you just met them?â
âwhat are you saying, j?â you asked, your tone dipping a bit critical. âi should go for someone i know instead?â
his heart dropped. he didnât mean it like that. now heâd made it sound like he was putting his own name in the running, and heâd never do that.
ââm not saying that.â his words were careful. âjust⌠you deserve someone who treats you well. better than that.â
you pushed. âbetter? what does that look like to you?âÂ
jaafar let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. âwhat does it matter what it looks like to me?â
âbecause,â you scoffed. âi trust your judgement on guys. why are you being so shy with your opinion all of a sudden?"
he was taken aback by the tone of your words. he didnât get why you were digging so hard, why you wanted to know so badly.Â
what was better anyway? there was better, there was good enough, and in his mind, none of those were the same thing. none of it came close to what you deserved
âat the bare minimum,â jaafar finally said. âsomeone whoâd appreciate you. someone who appreciates your time, and doesn't pull bullshit like your date did tonight.â
âand what if i havenât found that?â you murmured.
âyou will,â he said softly. âthere are a lot of guys whoâd jump at the chance to treat you right. youâreââÂ
he cut himself off.
you were watching him so intently, clinging on to every word.
âiâm what?â
there were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he couldnât.
he laughed humourlessly. âbecause youâre you,â âbecause youâre everything a person could wantâ âand you deserve someone whoâŚâ
he trailed off, trying to place the look on your face.
âgo ahead, tell me.â you pushed. âyouâre the expert right? you get to size up every guy who even looks at me. no oneâs ever been good enough for you. arenât you dying for the chance to tell me exactly who i need?â
he laughed, frustration rolling over him. he didn't even know what this was anymore. a conversation? an argument?
âi'm listening.â
his eyes scanned over your face. âyou need a guy whoâs good for you.â the words were in his voice, but they felt completely unfamiliar. âhe should treat you right. be there when you need him. he should be attentive, show up for you, appreciate you. always tell you how pretty you are. he should be taking care of you... meeting all your needs with no questionsâor excusesâyou know how tired i am of hearing excuses? you need someone who'd give you everythingââ
"so someone like you?" you were staring at him, head titled. and he knew he fucked it all up. he said way too much.
âiâm sorry,â he murmured, running a hand over his mouth. âreally, i donât know what iâm...â
your expression melted. the rain beat on the roof of the car as you shook your head slowly.
"since when is caring something you have to apologize for?"
âit's not my place,â he said, voice low.
you sighed softly, your eyes flickering all over his face. you leaned in closer.
"jaafar... what if i did want someone like you?"
he froze in place, his breathing quickening.
"âŚyou keep saying i deserve someone who treats me right," you said quietly. "someone who shows up. someone who actually cares."
you don't even remember how the distance between you guys shrunk, but he was so close now â too close. close enough that you could count the lashes framing his eyes.
his face was just a few inches from yours. your chest was leaning right over the center console, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you.
your voice was so quiet, your nose brushing over his.
ââm sorry i didnât see it before, jaafar. i was looking for that person for so long. spent so much time trying to find what felt right.â you held his gaze. âthe only time it ever did⌠was with you.â
his head was spinning, skin tingling. was he dreaming?
âdid i misread things?â you breathed, your lips almost touching. âdo you not feel the same way?â
âplease tell me youâre serious.â he sounded borderline desperate. but he didnât care.
âiâm dead serious,â you whispered.
âi want you,â he started. âso much. in all the ways i shouldnât, and itâs killing me.â
âyou can have me in any way you want.â
he said your name, and it came out helpless.
instead of saying anything else, he pulled you forward, closing the gap.Â
he finally tasted you, felt you, his skin buzzing at every point where it was touching you. he parted your lips with his, and you opened for him like a flower.
you let him in, let him have you.
you let him devour you and taste all his feelings reciprocated on your tongue.
you let out a gasp into his mouth, and it made him dizzy.
âi want you. so badly.â your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed through him all the same.Â
he wasnât expecting you to touch him. he was so hard already. heâd been hard for you, so sensitive to every movement of your hands on him.
âi need youâ you breathed.
he pulled back, breathing hard. âare you sure?"
ââm so sure. i need you right now.â
heâd give you anything you need.
you deserved everything. so many things that for a second he didnât know where to start. but then you were moaning softly in his mouth, so responsive to his touch.
your confession echoed in his mind.
none of the guys iâve been with have ever made me cum before.
and so he ran his fingers up your thigh, fingers trailing up your skin.
his hands seemed to grasp everywhere at once, his mouth hungry on yours as your tongues moved together. every kiss carried need. he gave your thigh a soft squeeze, a light touch claiming every inch of skin.
his fingers moved higher and higher until he was playing with the lower hem of your dress.
you knotted your fingers into his hair â it was soft to the touch. your skin grew more sensitive with every moment, his hand stalling on your upper thigh as his thumb rubbed near its apex. he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down your jaw and down your neck.
ohâ
your gasp devolved into a shudder as he licked up your throat, his tongue hot on your skin at the exact same time his hand slipped slowly under your dress.
it left goosebumps all over your neck and thighs, your back arching off the leather seat as your legs spread slightly.
"jaafarâ" you gasped.
"yeah, baby?" he slurred against your pulse.
"want to be closer," you breathed, hips twitching instinctively against his touch. "'need you."
"c'mere."
his large hand spanned around your waist, using his strength to pull you straight toward him over the center console.
you straddled his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as his fingers gripped your hips tight. you were so close now â you could feel him pressing firm through the fabric of his sweatpants. the warmth of his lap under your bare thighs sent butterflies wild in your stomach.
he was big. with his height, you probably shouldâve guessed.
jaafarâs eyes roamed over you, greedy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of you.
"look at you," he said softly.
the look on his face was pure awe and reverence, and it made you bashful under his gaze.
"you can look," you laughed shakily, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried to cover your face. "but not for long."
"why not?" he murmured, a faint, lopsided smile touching his lips as he gently caught your wrists, pulling your hands away so he could see you again.
"âcause... it's embarrassing," you whispered, biting your lip.
âiâd look at you all day if you let me. never seen anything better.â
"stop." you tried to look away, but his hand came up, warm fingers gently cupping your jaw, bringing your face back to his.
"you're too sweet to me," you murmured softly.
"you deserve it," he smiled softly, his eyes brimming with so much sincerity it almost made your chest ache. "i hope you know you deserve the world."
"you mean it?" your breath caught when his large hand squeezed your hip softly over the thin fabric of your dress.
"i do," he said. his fingers idled at the middle of your back, slowly tracing up your spine until they wrapped around the nape of your neck, his touch sending a shiver straight down your length. he pulled your face gently down to his, your lips almost touching, his hot breath fanning across your mouth. "y'know what else you deserve?"
"what?" you breathed, your pulse racing in your ears.
"let me show you."
he kissed you deeper, instantly turning hungry. you cradled his face, feeling him squeeze your waist with both hands. he pulled you down against him, once, just so your weight pressed right down on the hard shape of his dick. it made him shudder.
you resisted the urge to grind over him, but you were so wet already, making a mess over the front of his sweatpants.
"you deserve someone who knows just how to touch you, baby," he murmured against your mouth, his lips brushing yours with every word.
"and how's that?" you asked, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"slowly."
his hands ran lazily down your hips, the heat of his palms bleeding through your dress. long, smooth fingers lazed over the skin of your thighs, unhurried and attentive.
"gentle, at first..." his voice was so low and quiet.
you were focused on his hands as they grazed further up your thighs, slipping easily under the hem of your dress to lift the fabric. you grasped at the front of his shirt, gasping at the size of his hands as they gripped your bare skin, his thumb resting at the front of your hip while his palm spanned around to rest just above your ass.
"'til you're ready for more."
he was so hard under your thigh, the thick length of him pulsing with heat â so much pre-cum at the tip that it was already starting to seep through his pants.
"want more," you begged.
"i know, baby," he whispered, trailing a kiss from the corner of your mouth down to the sensitive skin under your jaw. "you know 'm gonna give it to you."
his gaze dropped, eyes fixed on your chest as he lifted your dress up and off. "you deserve someone who'll give you everything you want."
your legs spread around him, straddling his lap in just your bra and panties â a little lacy set youâd put on for someone else. but you wouldn't have anyone else take it off you now.
you didn't have to ask if he liked it; you felt the response in his dick, twitching underneath you. his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "you're so perfect."
your breath caught when his hands cupped your tits lightly. you squirmed on his lap.
"that feel good?" he whispered.
all you could do was nod.
"good," he murmured, brushing his thumb over your nipples through the lace of your bra. "you deserve someone who can make you feel good."
it was better than good. his touch on your skin, his big hands gripping your tits, long fingers tweaking your nipples through the lace.
he had you pleading his name, so needy for him that you couldn't help but lean forward and pull him into a sloppy kiss.
but that wasn't enough either.
even with your tongues tangled together and his dick straining harder up against you, you were dying for more, desperate to be closer.
you ground down on his lap, pressing your weight into the bulge in his pants. he was so hard under your pussy, so big it made you whimper.
"i know," he said between kisses. "i know."
jaafar pressed his fingers lightly into your skin and gripped your hips, guiding you back and forth over his dick so you could get the friction you needed. slow and easy, he rocked you on his lap until your panties were soaked through.
"i know how bad you want it... an' you deserve it..." he said softly.
his mouth left yours, adjusting as he sank back into the leather to elevate you on his lap. he brought you up as he trailed kisses down your jaw and down your throat. you were higher up, and he was lower down, kissing over your collarbones before pausing.
"you deserve someone whoâll give it to you... at the right time, baby..." he murmured into your skin, his voice low and muffled as he reached the level of your chest, scattering kisses just above the lace of your braÂ
he licked and sucked your skin, making it tingle. you carded your fingers through his soft hair, chills shooting down your spine. his fingers slid up your thighs slowly.
"...and for exactly how long..."
his fingers moved inward, languid as they reached the apex of your inner thighs and brushed over the hem of your panties.
"...because it would be so mean to make you wait too long, wouldnât it?"
he wrapped one arm around your waist to steady you, resting his hand on your side â his fingers splaying wide over your skin, greedy â while he touched you with the other.
your mind lifted, as if floating into a fog, intoxicated by his touch. they made your eyes heavy, clouding your head so you heard his sweet words as if in a daze.
"you deserve someone who..." his voice dropped, his touch a little heavier as he ran his hand slowly over the lace of your panties.
"...knows how to tease, how to make you wait..."
his fingers brushed over your clit, and you gasped, shuddering.
"...but not for too long..." you heard the strain in his voice as he rubbed over the soaked fabric under your entrance. you felt his dick growing under your ass, getting harder.
"...just long enough to get this little pussy nice and wet, baby."
while he rubbed circles over your clit, the hand on your side moved down until you felt his big grip on your ass. moaning softly, you watched through foggy eyes as he craned his neck to kiss your tits through the lace of your bra â light kisses through the fabric, just one tease after another. but as soon as you started to whine, he gave you his tongue, running it over the fabric, swirling it over your hardening nipples, and flicking it. even through the barrier, it made you shudder as much as the wetness and heat of his mouth.
the heat intensified when he started to suck on your tits through the lace; it got hotter when he grazed his teeth over your nipples, hottest when he bit down gently. he was careful with his teeth, but you were so sensitive that each bite made you squirm. coupled with the desire growing inside you, you were dying to be skin to skin, hating the barrier between you.
"so wet for me," he slurred between soft sucks and bites to your tits. "so good for me, such a good girl. you know what a good girl like you deserves?"
"tell me," you breathed.
"someone who knows how to get you ready."
he pressed his fingers to your swollen clit and gave you enough pressure to build that heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. it sent another rush of arousal between your thighs, making everything puffier and wetter.
you were more than ready; you were desperate.
"you need someone who preps you rightâ" his fingers skimmed right to the hem of your panties.
"â'cause then..." he slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties, letting them linger there for a beat as he looked up at you. his mouth was swollen from sucking at your chest, his cheeks flushed as he licked his lips.
your heart hammered in your chest.
"... when they really touch you..." he hooked his fingers over the damp fabric covering your pussy and pulled your panties to the side.
"...itâs gonna feel so much better for you, baby." his fingers brushed over your slit.
and you shuddered. he was right. it did feel much better.
you shouldâve known heâd do it better. jaafar had always shown you how things were supposed to be done. after all these years, after everything, you shouldâve known heâd be the only one to do it right.
heâd worked your body so thoroughly, had you dripping wet, and heâd barely even touched you. youâd never been this wet. you were worked up, so sensitive that just the feeling of his fingertips brushing over your pussy made you drip.
"jaafar, pleaseâ" you couldnât remember a time youâd ever needed it enough to beg.
he licked his fingers, cleaning your wetness off them, just to get them wetter with a glob of spit. softly, he brought his hand back between your thighs.
"câmon, baby. you donât ever have to beg me. jusâ tell me what you want, and iâll give it to you."
"keep going," you gasped.
"what you need..." he hummed, his voice soft. his eyes, half-lidded as they settled on your face, watching you as he smeared his the slickness over your pussy. "what you need is someone who knows when youâre ready to take it."
and you were. the second he pressed against your entrance, your pussy opened for him, stretching around him for the very first time.
"someone who knows when youâre dying for it..." his voice was warm against your skin your head went foggy, dropping forward as he pushed into you. your noses brushed together, eyes still watching you so intently. he pushed deeper, the air muffled with your pleasured gasps. "...so they can give you that relief you need."
"and when they finally slip into this pretty pussy..."
with his mouth against your jaw, he sank one finger all the way into you, slow and easy. you shuddered when he buried it to the base, your walls clenching around him.
"...youâre already gonna be so worked up..."
you trembled, fingers entangling in his hair as he pumped his finger in and out of you, aching for more of him, wanting him deeper.
"...and youâll already be so wet, so needy..."
you whimpered his name as he pulled back, craving the stretch of him like nothing else mattered.
"...that when they give you more..."
he slipped another finger in, stretching you out around two. he gave them to you all the way, letting you take them to the knuckle, letting you feel the warm skin of his hand pressed up against your entrance for a second before he fucked them into you. he curled them forward so your soft moans and all the sticky, wet sounds joined the rain beating outside.
"...youâll already be so close. wonât you, baby?"
he was right. you were so close, gasping âyes, yes,â dripping down his knuckles while that knot in your lower stomach tightened.Â
"but the most important thing," he slurred, your thick arousal dripping down his fingers, each movement filling the car with wet noises, "is that theyâre willing to learn what spots make you feel best. right here, sweetheart?"
his fingers pressed deeper, curling into a spot that felt good.
you gasped, "y-yeahâ"
then he adjusted, saying, "or there?"
he angled his hand, pressing into a spot that felt even better. it felt so good that it drew out a burst of wetness, making your pussy clamp down on him suddenly, and his cock pulsed underneath you in response. he moved his fingers again, curled them a little harder, and fucked more wetness out of you.
"right there makes you squirt? that feel good, baby?" he groaned.
he stuck to that spot, fucking another short burst out of you that made your thighs shake. he coaxed you the whole time, cooing as you told him how close you were to cumming for him, how good he gave it to you.
âyeah? you want more?" he asked sweetly â but he was already giving it to you, working over that little sweet spot deep in your pussy, again and again, watching you try not to fall apart. you were so close, and he pressed his thumb to your aching clit, rubbing it as he fingerfucked you.
"do you get it yet?"
you couldnât manage an answer, just a few jumbled words cut off by heightening moans.
"you need somebody who knows how to make this pussy cum."
your thighs trembled around his, your toes curling â you grabbed at his hair, pulled him into a kiss, and into your mouthÂ
"youâre gonna cum for me, arenât you?" he asked lazily.
"yeah, yes, yes," you gasped.
"i know you need to cum badly, i can feel it. let it go, baby."
one simple instruction. just like that, you spilled over, doing exactly as he said. this was how he rewarded you â encouraging you as the tension snapped, letting you cum for the first time on fingers that werenât your own. they were longer, better, drenched and fucking you through your orgasm as pleasure rolled through you in waves.
you slumped forward with the last wave, catching your breath against his chest, feeling its slow and steady rise and fall. in the hollow of his chest, you heard the low hum of his voice, reassurances murmured to ease you down as you closed your eyes. you felt his arms wrapped tight around you, his large hands on your skin â squeezing your neck gently, rubbing your back, keeping you safe.Â
âwas that okay?â he asked softly.
"that was perfect." you shifted on his lap, grinding your hips forward right into the hard length of his dick.
jaafar let out a low groan, his head rolling back against the leather headrest. "fuck..." he murmured your name, his voice desperate.
you knew how badly he wanted it. it was obvious, especially when you dropped your eyes down to his crotch, watching the outline of his dick tenting the fabric of his sweatpants.
but when he brought his head back down to look at you, there was a hesitance in his eyes, bordering on guilt.
âi donât have a condom on me,â he said softly, his thumbs stroking your hips carefully. âiâm sorry, baby, i didnât expectââ
you shook your head before he could finish. ââs okay. i wouldâve told you not to wear one anyway.â
he murmured your name again, his brow furrowing like he was trying to talk you out of it, trying to be the responsible one. but you already knew he was going to fuck you. heâd do anything for you, give you whatever you asked for.
âwhen you put it in,â you whispered, holding his gaze, âi want to feel all of you.â
jaafar cursed under his breath.
âare you sure?â he asked, searching your face, but you could already feel his dick twitching and swelling beneath you at the thought of taking you raw. his body was giving him away.
âiâm sure.â you said as you tugged his shirt up.Â
jaafar reached up to help you, lifting his arms so you could pull the fabric over his head and toss it onto the back seat.
as your eyes adjusted to him, your breath caught in your throat. heâd been working out consistently for his role â putting in endless hours to get into shape and build stamina â and it was showing in every line of his body. his shoulders were broad, his torso cut and defined, with lean, smooth muscle stretching tight over his ribs and chest.
you reached out, pressing your hands to the center of his stomach and slowly rubbing up his torso, feeling the heat of his skin.
you traced up over his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your palms, before letting your fingers drag back down.
"you got so strong," you murmured, staring at him in awe.
jaafar stayed still under your touch, eyes heavy and fixed on your face as you admired him.
"you know," you added with a soft laugh, "there was probably a point in our lives where i could've taken you in a fight."
a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "you really think you could take me?"
it didn't sound like he was talking about a fight anymore.
the heat of his quiet voice on your skin, combined with the slight jerk of his dick in his pants â still so hard, pressed tight between his body and yours â sent a wrenching heat straight through your stomach.
"could i take you...?" you breathed.
you reached down between your bodies, grazing your fingers over the bulge against his thigh, tracing all the way down the long, thick length of it through his sweatpants.
probably not.
"i don't know, j." a firm squeeze to his dick through the fabric had his breath catching hard in his throat, his jaw clenching as a needy look filled his eyes. "but i'm dying to find out."
you felt his dick respond as he leveled himself in front of you.
"are you sure?" he rasped.
ânever been more sure. i want this so bad, you donât even know.â
âokay, sweetface,â he said softly, before placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose.
you pouted, crinkling your nose up at the nickname. âdonât call me that.â
âwhy not?â he teased, his face breaking into a lazy smile as he moved his body slowly over yours, rubbing his hard dick right against you. âyou donât like it when i call you names?â
ân-not like that,â you laughed shakily, spreading your thighs wider so he could get closer. ânot that.â
with the same teasing tone, his thrusts getting a little harder, his dick more persistent against you, he murmured, âwhat kind of names do you like, then?â
he dropped his head down, breath fanning over your throat with each word, his hair tickling your skin. âbaby?â
ây-yeah...â
âyeah?â he slurred, trailing kisses up the column of your neck, over your hammering pulse. he paused right under your ear, his lips lingering on your hot skin. âyou like angel?â
your stomach went instantly into knots. âyes, j.â
he placed a soft kiss right below your ear.
âprincess?â
âyeah, yes.â
he nipped your earlobe, thrusting his hips again, pressing the thick length of him hard against your body.
âand what about good girl?â he asked softly against your ear.
you gasped and pulled on his hair, overwhelmed by it all â the feeling of his weight on you, the way he was grinding his cock against you, his low, breathy voice, and those words dripping from his lips.
âthatâs what you like,â he said, and it wasn't a question. âyou wanna be a good girl for me, i know you do.â
he trailed light kisses over your skin â up from your jaw, to your cheek, to your lips.
then he looked down at you, his eyes low when he said, âthatâs why you keep cumming so easily for me, isnât it?â
you bit your lip, unable to find your voice, but still gave him one small nod.
ânow if you want to be even better for me, baby,â he whispered, his hands gripping your hips tight as he lined himself up, âyouâre gonna cum all over my dick.â
you could barely get an affirmation out before you couldnât take the waiting anymore. you knotted your hands up in his hair and pulled him into a sloppy, desperate kiss.
this time you could feel the firmness of his body on yours, the heat of his skin, his burning hot fingers on your bra clasp. a quick movement that made your bra pop free.
you pulled it off as soon as it was undone, dropping it off the seat while his tongue was still in your mouth.
you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him flush against you. a groan slipped out of his mouth, caught up in yours as his weight pressed you down into the leather â his chest on your tits, his dick hard against your pussy, separated from you by just the soaked fabric of his sweatpants and your thong.
âfuck, baby,â he sighed, rocking his hips, dragging his clothed bulge back and forth over your clit so slowly while you murmured his name, telling him how good he made you feel, how wet he got you. you let him tease you until you couldnât take it anymore, whining for more.
âtell me what you want,â he coaxed sweetly between thrusts. âwant me to stretch this pretty pussy out?â
"fuck me⌠i wanna feel you so deep in meâ" it all spilled out of your mouth in a stupor.
âyâknow iâm gonna give you anything you want, donât you?â
âyouâre gonna take care of me?â you shuddered.
his reply was a low murmur against your neck. âdonât i always?â
his big hands travelled over your skin, his long fingers hooking over the sides of your panties, easing them slowly downward. he slipped them off you and looked down cloudily, his eyes grazing over every inch of bare skin.
âyou donât know how long iâve wanted this,â he said softly.
you breathed his name, tracing your hands down his abdomen, over the light sheen of sweat on his skin. you reached down to palm the hard outline of his dick through his pants, hearing him breathe shakily as you pulled his zipper down.
you pulled his sweatpants and boxers down together, and he let you. he watched, inhaling through bared teeth, as you pulled his dick out and wrapped your fingers around it.
âyouâre so big,â you murmured, met with a soft groan.
he was so hot, so hard, throbbing in your hand. he was already slick with precum, the slit of his dick oozing, smearing more onto your palm. but you were a bigger mess â your pussy dripping onto the seat beneath you as you spread your thighs wider around his hips, dying to take him.
âbaby, baby,â he moaned softly, shuddering as you tightened your grip on his dick. gliding your palm back and forth, dragging his precum all the way down to the base and back up, you could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, getting him even stiffer.
eyelashes fluttering against his feverish face, his eyes tracked your hand as you stroked him. âlook what youâre doing to me. feel how bad i want you?â
âare you gonna give it to me, jaafar?â you whined.
âso eager,â he hummed, fixing his eyes between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours. âi wanna take my time with you.â
he shifted beneath you, reaching past your hips to release the lever on the side of the seat. with a click, he leaned the seat back, moving you so that you were on the seat. he was hovering over you now, his heavy frame pressed between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours.
you hung onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin as he wrapped a hand around his dick, supporting the heavy weight of it in his palm as he positioned himself above you. with the tip over your pussy, he gave the shaft one slow stroke up from the base and watched his precum dribble onto your clit.
âi need you inside,â you gasped.
âcan you even take the whole thing?â he asked so sweetly.
you didnât know if you could, not with the size of him, but you wanted it so bad that you nodded anyway.
you saw him smile a little in the low light before he craned his neck down. âweâll see.â
he pressed his dick to your pussy and slid all that wetness â his precum, your arousal â over it. he stimulated you over and over, until his breaths were coming fast and heavy, and you were whimpering about how good it felt.
âjaafar, please,â you begged. âi want more.â
âyouâre so sweet for me; âcourse iâm gonna give you as much as you can take.â he tapped the head of his dick against your clit. not hard, but enough of a pleasurable jolt that you bucked your hips up, chasing the touch. âbut first i want you to see how deep i can get.â
he laid the hot length of his dick on your pussy, letting the wetness on his shaft meet your skin. you were soaked with slick, glistening all over your thighs
 jaafar got it messier, sliding his dick over your cunt â back, then forward â stimulating your clit with the head each time he moved through your folds.
he stopped with his dick laid out on your stomach, heavy and throbbing.
âyouâre gonna feel me in your stomach, baby.â he slurred.
âi want it,â you shuddered, pulling him into another kiss as he rubbed himself over you.
âi know you do, i know.â
he pulled back then, dropping his body down a little to position the tip of his dick against your fluttering entrance. you craved the stretch, gasping at the tail end of a kiss.
he lingered there â breath shaky and catching in his throat.
âokay, baby, okay,â he whispered as he pushed inside, just barely stretching your entrance around the tip.
you both moaned at the same time.
a little further in, the heat of him filled you, his dick stretching your walls open.
âoh, youâre so wet,â he groaned.
he was shuddering, and you were gasping, âyou feel so good.â
he was so hard for you, so snug against your walls that you could feel his dick pulse as he pushed in deeper, his lazy voice dripping with euphoria, âso good for me, baby... feel good when i fuck you raw? are you getting what you wanted?â
âyes, yes... more.â
âso tight,â he murmured, and you clamped down around him, hearing him suck in a breath through his teeth. âyâhave be careful squeezing me like that⌠might cum inside you. you know i shouldnât do that.â
âbut i want it.â
âyeah? you want me to fill you up. make me yours?â his breath caught as he pushed the throbbing length of his dick further in, filling you up deeper and deeper with what youâd been wanting so desperately. âyou want me to fill you up, baby? wanna be my girl?âÂ
âyes, j,â you gasped, fingers knotting tight in his soft hair, pulling his mouth inches from yours. âi wanna be yours.â
each word was breathy, said with so much pleasure that it made your insides expand to accommodate more of him. one glance between your spread thighs â where he was lowering his lean weight as he sank his dick into your puffy, wet pussy â was enough to make your toes curl on the leather seats. watching him sink deeper was too much; you were unable to hold your soft moans in.
âyou like watching me stretch it out, donât you?â
you nodded with your lip caught between your teeth, unable to manage an answer, just a whine.
âjaafar,â you gasped, fingers knotting in his soft hair as you looked up into his dark eyes. âi want all of you.â
jaafarâs gaze softened, a heavy, tender warmth breaking through the haze of pleasure on his face. he leaned down, hovering just an inch over your lips, his hot breath fanning across your mouth as his hips kept a slow, agonizing grind against yours.
âyou have me, baby,â he whispered, his voice thick and rough with emotion. âall of me. iâm all yours.â
âyeah?â you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
âyeah,â he murmured, placing a lingering, desperate kiss on the corner of your mouth before sinking his dick just a fraction deeper. âalways been yours.â
you forced your eyes open, watching him sink in a little more. he stopped short, not pushing all the way in yet; you were already so full, and the bottom of his thick shaft was still visible. he fucked you like this â giving you as much as you could take, making sure you adjusted to him.
âfeels so good in you, baby.â
you were so tight, so sensitive that you could feel him throbbing in you. when he pulled his dick almost all the way out, you could see it twitch before he stroked your wetness down the shaft, telling you to look how wet you were getting him. he was all lubed up from your pussy, practically dripping, and when he pushed back inside to fuck you, he was even harder.
you could barely keep your eyes open to watch, your eyelashes fluttering as you whined for his dick. âso fucking good... iâm so closeââ
âyou wanna cum again?â he asked, fucking you a little faster, a little deeper. âkeep your eyes open, be good and watch yourself make a mess on my dick.â
your body treated his words like a command. that craving for his control physical; your body so desperate for his guidance that as soon as he gave it, the knot in your stomach released with a rush of pleasure.
your mouth dropped open; you were cumming, digging your fingernails into his biceps and whimpering, trying to keep your heavy eyelids open so you could watch him fuck you, seeing your pussy drenching his shaft.
âthatâs right, baby, there you go... see how good this pussy is for me, how wet it gets for me?â his strokes started to slow as your orgasm died down, but he was still fucking you through every contraction; filthy words on his tongue said so sweetly, âsee how fast it cums for me? how many orgasms are you gonna let me fuck out of you, princess?â
âmore,â you gasped. âmoreââ
âyouâre gonna let me fuck more out of you, huh? youâre gonna let me give you everything you need?â
âyes, jaafar, yes.â
your pussy was so sensitive from cumming that the stimulation felt insane. youâd barely come down from your last orgasm, and somehow you were building up again. even though he was slowing down, you couldnât stop that cresting feeling.
âcumming so much for me... i know you needed this so bad, baby.â
âi need it so much, j,â you whined. âi need you to keep going, please... i need you to fuck me harder. i think... i think iâm gonnaââ
âalready?â he groaned, fucking you harder, faster, slurring, âoh, fuck, i can feel it... gimme another, lemme feel you cum again.â
it was so good, each stroke getting you closer, but you were craving more, something deeper. âgimme the whole thing, jaafar, please.â
he swore under his breath, shaking his head, so much pleasure on his face. âi don't wanna overwhelm you.â
âplease, j.â
âgod,â he shuddered, slipping in a little deeper.
you watched him sink his dick in, your wetness coating the shaft further down. as he pushed all the way in, the head of his dick kissed right against your cervix â a deep, intense stretch that made you gasp, your toes curling around his waist.
he groaned, raw satisfaction making his voice hoarse, and pulled back slightly, breathing hard. âyou okay, baby?â
âyes, yes, yesâ it feels so good.â
âtell me if itâs too much,â he said, his voice thick with anticipation as he pushed inside, going deep. âtell me if you want me to stop, okay?â
you nodded, so much tension stored up in your quivering walls as he coaxed them open. you whined for more, wanting him deeper.
âyou want me to give you the whole thing? yeah? you wanna take my dick deep?â he put a big hand on your stomach, pressing down on it as he pushed forward, coaxing, âoh, fuck, baby, youâre taking so much... doing so well for me... thatâs a good girl, take it all the way.â
you took it all the way â right up against that sweet pressure, taking every single inch of him. you locked your legs around his waist, telling him with tears beading in your lashes, âyouâre so big, ââm so close.â
he was getting so much gratification at the end of each stroke. he felt it in his catching breath, in his long fingers as they pressed into your lower stomach, feeling himself fucking you, feeling himself buried deep inside.
he pulled back for another stroke, thrusting back in, and you watched his face change as he got all the way in â his eyes flitting down to your pussy, his mouth dropping open slightly when he saw you taking him balls deep. eyebrows knit, he watched himself move in and out, his entire length coated in you.
âtakinâ it so deep,â he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. âno oneâs ever...â he was overwhelmed, unable to finish his sentence, gritting his teeth as he pushed back in.
you were begging for it harder, getting fucked with his big hand on your stomach and that full feeling making your walls clench around his dick with every thrust.Â
his mouth met your skin, kissing your jaw and cheek as he fucked you, his mouth kissing at your neck before he murmured, âfeels so good, doesnât it?â
âyeahâ f-feels so good.â
âyou want me to mark you up, baby? you want me to fuck you so deep, you feel it in the morning?â
you whined for it. âyes, yes, yes.â
it was building; all of it was getting sloppier, more needy â his thrusts, his words slurred against your throat, his breaths catching as you tangled your fingers into his hair and tightened your legs around his waist. his voice was so breathy with pleasure, so desperate for release, making your pussy clench up around him each time he murmured to you.
âiâve been so close for so long, baby... you donât even know how close i was earlier when i felt you cumming on me. almost had to pull out, i wanted to fill you up so bad.â
âi want you to fill me up,â you gasped.
âi canât do that, baby,â he panted against your throat, fucking you hard enough to make the car rock with each thrust. desperation was in each breath; it was building up, and you were right on the edge too, your walls slick and quivering around his dick. âgod, i need to... but you know i shouldnât.â
âplease, please...â there was a tremor in your voice, another wave threatening to wash over. âyou said youâd give me anything i wanted.â
âfuck,â he murmured. âhow am i supposed to say no to you?â
there was tension in the hot air, the windows fogged up with the warmth of your rocking bodies and desperate breaths. you were both so close, so sloppy â spit on your lips, sweat on your skin, your moans heightening with each stroke.
âyou really want my cum?â he asked, his voice raw.
âi need it,â you whined.
then he was groaning softly, your moans getting louder as he panted, âcum on me, baby... cum on me and iâll fill this pretty pussy up, iâll get you nice and full just like you want.â
that was all it took â just the promise of being full of his load, and you crashed over, gasping, âiâmâ oh fuckââ the curve of his dick hit just right, splitting your convulsing walls open as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside.
âgood girl, my good fucking girl,â he slurred as your walls gushed all over his dick, digging his fingers into your ass. âyou deserve so much cum, babyââ
his lashes fluttered, his face dropping forward, and then he was half-panting, half-moaning against your jaw, his thrusts sloppy, his hips catching as his dick twitched inside you. you could feel every inch of him, every throb as your sensitive walls pulsed around him.
the warmth came in spurts, a growing fullness as he shot his warm load deep into you. it was pulled further inside with each contraction of your walls, but there was so much of it that as his strokes went lazy, it gushed out around his dick and dribbled down your skin.
he stayed deep until you were both done, and when he pulled out â looking down, breathing hard â his dick was glistening, a mess of your cum and his, a little white surge leaking from the tip and dripping onto your stomach.
he swore under his breath, his face hazy.
âlook at you,â he murmured, eyes still on your pussy. âyouâre so pretty, baby.â
his lips were on yours again. he placed a light kiss on the left corner of your mouth.
you looked over at him in the soft glow of the dashboard â the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth.
âi meant what i said, you know,â he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. âabout being yours. itâs not just because of tonight. iâve cared about you for way too long to ever let this be just a one-time thing.â
"yeah?" you squeezed his hand in yours, your thumb tracing the familiar lines of his knuckles.
"yeah."
you leaned up, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to his lips, feeling him immediately melt into it. when you pulled back, a teasing smile broke across your face as you looked at him.
âyou know... i really didn't expect you to be such a dirty talker.â
a sheepish grin broke across his face. his chest rose and fell in a breathy laugh as a flush crept up his neck. "i don't know... you brought it out of me."
for years, youâd convinced yourself that love was supposed to be something you had to chase, something complicated that always left you feeling like you were settling for less than you deserved. youâd let other men touch you without ever really seeing you, leaving you wondering why it never felt the way it was supposed to.
but the truth was undeniable. it had always been him. the boy who knew every version of you, the friend whoâd spent years quietly holding your world together, was the only one who could ever really have all of you.
jaafar brought your joined hands up to his lips, placing a tender kiss over your knuckles.
Summary: After returning home from weeks of travelling, Michael is looking forward to nothing more than a quiet night beside you. What begins as an ordinary homecoming quickly turns into one of the most life changing moments of his life when he discovers a secret youâve been carrying while he was away.
Context: age gap relationship, established relationship, pregnancy reveal, surprise pregnancy, domestic fluff, soft michael, future parents, emotional michael, late night comfort, homecoming, family themes, protective michael, wholesome romance, loving relationship, anticipation, gentle intimacy, slice of life, michael as a father, comfort, domestic life
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Michael came home late at night after weeks away and finds the entire house asleep, exactly the way he expected to. Travelling never gets easier for him no matter how many years he spends doing it, people assume you eventually get used to airports, hotel rooms and constantly living out of suitcases, but Michael has never really been that kind of person. Heâs always been a homebody at heart, no matter how exciting the trip is or how successful the work turns out to be, there always comes a point where all he wants is his own bed, his own house, the people he loves waiting for him inside it and most importantlyâŚ.YOUâŚ..his beautiful wife that never lefts his side, he couldnât wait to pull you into his arms and take in that floral sent that always puts his mind at ease.
By the time he quietly lets himself through the front door, he exhales , exhausted from the trip. The house is dark, peaceful and he leaves his bags downstairs, straightens a few things absentmindedly as he moves through the house, smiling when he notices little reminders of you everywhere.
Your favourite blanket folded over the couch, a half finished book sitting on the coffee table, a cardigan draped over the back of a chair that he knows youâll eventually come looking for tomorrow morning. The sight of those ordinary things gave a wave of comfort and warmth in him , they always do remind him that despite any harsh attention words him in life, heâs got a little flower waiting to take him in her arms at home.
After making his way upstairs, he showered and changing into something comfortable, he pushes open the bedroom door carefully, not wanting to wake you, and spots your sleeping form beneath the blankets. Micheal just stands there, watching you sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down slowly , seeing you asleep in your shared bed after weeks apart pulls a tired smile onto his face almost instantly. GOD you look so beautifulâŚ
He crosses the room, leans down & presses a kiss against your cheek and another against your forehead before moving around to his side of the bed. He slips beneath the blankets and carefully settles behind you, automatically seeking out your warmth the same way he always does after being away. His arm slides around your waist, his face disappearing briefly into your hair as he breathes in the scent heâs missed more than heâll ever admit out loud. After weeks of concerts, rehearsals & interviews , he feels himself properly relax.
Itâs only when his hand settles against your stomach that something catches his attention.
At first he doesnât think much of it, the thought barely registers because heâs tired, half asleep already, and his mind is still somewhere between airports and time zones, But a few seconds later his eyes slowly open again. His hand remains where it is while his brain quietly tries to make sense of the feeling, after a moment he shifts slightly, brushing his hand across the same spot again, more consciously this time, he makes sure to keep the movement subtle & careful not to wake you.
His brow furrows immediately.
No wayâŚâŚ..
For several seconds he simply lies there staring into the darkness, trying to understand why a strange feeling of familiarity has suddenly settled over him. Then, memories from the past several weeks begin resurfacing. Little things and details that seemed small. You becoming tired more easily, the sickness youâd brushed off repeatedly, the way youâd seemed distracted during some of your phone calls and that doctorâs appointment youâd mentioned briefly before changing the subject. He remembered the oversized clothes that had slowly become your preferred choice lately. Separately, none of those things had meant much but together, however, they begin forming a picture so obvious that Michael actually feels his breath catch in his throat.
He slowly pushes himself up onto one elbow and looks down at you.
You remain completely asleep still peaceful, his gaze lingers there for a moment before drifting downward again Micheal gently removes the covers untill your stomach was visible.
ROUNDâŚâŚ.a small bumpâŚ..
He looked back to your face, then downward once more.
Your pregnant
Your PREGNANT
A few minutes pass and he doesnât move, he just keeps staring , his mind racing while the rest of him remains perfectly still. Because the very wish he has ever wanted with you when you promised him youâd love to bare his children, to be the mother of his children and to give him as many as he wants is right infront of him.
A baby
His hand remains resting lightly against your stomach while he sits there staring in complete disbelief. Michael has spent his entire life standing in front of thousands of people. Heâs accepted awards, performed for stadiums and lived through moments most people could never imagine, yet somehow none of those experiences prepared him for this. None of them prepared him for sitting in a dark bedroom in the middle of the night while you the women he loves deeply sleeps peacefully beside him while carrying his child and realizing that the future heâs been imagining for years may has quietly arrived while he was away.
A smile appears before he even realizes it, small at first, then larger. Until he finds himself covering part of his face with one hand because the emotion building inside him feels ridiculous and so intense. He thinks about all those phone calls, all those times heâd asked whether you were alright, all those moments where heâd felt like something was different but couldnât understand why and it all makes sense. The more he thinks about it, the more emotional he becomes. Then frustration slides in because youâve been carrying this secret alone for weeks.
Attending appointments, hearing news, experiencing all of these changes and he wasnât there. The realization softens some of his excitement with guilt. Guilt from leaving you all by your self, and not standing beside you, his wife thatâs carrying a life heâs always dreamed of. He wished heâd been sitting beside you in those waiting rooms. Whishes heâd been there to experience every part of it with you instead of finding out accidentally in the middle of the night. If only heâd come sooner, though he understood why you havenât told him over the phone. He had a feeling that you didnât inform him because of his work, you didnât want him overwhelmed and panicking and you were right he would have been so overwhelmed with joy and panic over this news.
Still, none of that changes the overwhelming happiness slowly taking hold of him. His gaze keeps drifting back toward your sleeping face then towards your stomach on that beautiful bump that has that bundle of life growing inside you. With all the harsh and negative part of attention he gets , he can already feel himself becoming protective and possessive . Already imagining things and planning for you and his baby.
Wondering what the baby might look like, whether theyâll have your smile or inherit his curls. Whether theyâll be loud or quiet or maybe theyâll love music and laugh like you. His thoughts run so far ahead of him that he eventually has to stop himself. Yet every time he does, another smile threatens to appear and silent tears start to run down his face while he gazes longingly at you and your stomach his large warm hand still covering the bump with his thump caressing it gently. A small laugh escaping his mouth, still in disbelief.
Eventually the excitement settles into something quieter and the questions stop coming, the nervous laughter eases, even the tears begin drying, though every now and then a few tears shill shed. Carefully, he leans forward and presses a lingering kiss against your forehead & another against your cheek & another on your shoulder. His hand comes up to brush a few loose strands of hair away from your face.
âOh, babyâŚâ he whispers softly. A quiet laugh escapes him before he can stop it.
Shaking his head to himself, Michael slips back beneath the blankets and gently gathers you closer without disturbing you. One arm slides beneath your pillow and settles comfortably beneath your head while the other wraps around your waist, his hand instinctively finding its way back to your stomach. His thumb brushes slowly across the fabric of your nightgown. Tender and Protective.
He buries his face into your hair, breathing in the familiar scent that had felt so far away only hours ago. A few soft kisses find your shoulder. Another against the back of your neck. Michael closes his eyes, his hand remains over your stomach breathing in and out slowly. After a long moment, he leans forward slightly and murmurs against your ear.
âGodâŚâ
A small breath of a laugh follows.
âThank you, baby doll.â, His voice wavers slightly,
âThank you so much.â
His arm tightens around you just a little.
âI love you so much.â He sighed, peppering small kisses on your ear, his thumbs drawing small circles and shapes on the bump.
I have an idea but I donât know where to go with it.
Jackie Jackson x Reader, two oldest siblings choosing each other. They both are their families rock,they spend all their days taking care of everything and everyone but whoâs going to take care of them? Two older siblings healing, loving, and reassuring each other
đŠđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ : jackie jackson x black!reader
đŹđ˛đ§đ¨đŠđŹđ˘đŹ: in the quiet spaces between holding their chaotic households together, two exhausted eldest siblings find an unexpected refuge right next door. away from the non-stop demands of everyone relying on them, they discover what it feels like to finally be the ones being taken care of.
đđđ đŹ: neighbors to lovers, fluff, eldest daughter syndrome, eldest son solidarity, dynamic duo, soft black love, comfort, protective!jackie, set in the early '70's/jackson 5 era.
đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 4k
đđđ˘đŹđ˛âđŹ đ§đ¨đđ: another request from a lovely anon. it was honestly a delight to finally write for my pookie baby, jackie. i was cheesing from beginning to end, and hopefully, y'all will too! :) i have also decided that requests will come out over the weekend, so if you'd like to request something, my requests are still currently open!
The silence in Encino didnât feel like normal silence. It felt borrowed, bought at a high price, and entirely temporary.
September of 1973, Hayvenhurst was never truly quiet. Even when the sun went down and the gates were locked, the house vibrated with the residual friction of nine children, endless business managers, phone lines that rang until the receivers grew warm, and the looming shadow of Joe Jacksonâs ledger. But at two in the morning, if you stepped out onto the back patio where the citrus trees smelled sweet and heavy in the night air, you could almost pretend the world had stopped spinning.
Jackie Jackson leaned his forearms against the low, dark-stained wooden fence that separated his familyâs property from the lot next door. He was wearing a deep navy velour tracksuit, the zipper pulled halfway down his chest, his afro freshly picked out but slightly crushed on one side from resting his head against the studio control board three hours earlier.
His shoulders were tightâa hard knot of muscle right where his neck met his trap. Theyâd spent six hours at Motownâs West Coast studios refining vocal tracks for Get It Together, going over the same four-bar harmony until Jermaineâs voice rasped and Michaelâs eyes turned with fatigue.
As the eldest brother, the weight fell on Jackie differently. He wasnât the lead singer, and he wasnât the primary mouthpiece for the press, but he was the structural beam. When Michael was tired, Jackie carried the bag. When Randy got restless, Jackie smoothed it over. When Joeâs jaw set into that rigid, dangerous line that signaled a lecture on discipline, Jackie was the one who stepped into the room first so his younger brothers had a buffer.
He closed his eyes, inhaling the damp California air, trying to drain his head of the endless rhythm tracks and chord progressions.
Click.
The back screen door of the house next door creaked open, its soft yellow porch light casting a warm, rectangular beam across the grass. Jackie didnât open his eyes right away; he just listened to the soft, rhythmic slide of leather slippers against the concrete patio.
You stepped out into the night, wrapped in a thick, oversized waffle-knit robe over your nightshirt, a steaming mug held tightly in both hands. You stopped when you saw the dark silhouette leaning over the fence, but you didnât jump. You were too tired to jump.
âYouâre going to catch a chill out here without a jacket, Sigmund,â you said, your voice a low, raspy hum that belonged exclusively to the hours past midnight.
Jackie turned his head, a slow, tired smirk breaking through the exhaustion on his face. He loved the way you called him by his real nameâ not Jackie Jackson of the Jackson 5, not the heartthrob on the cover of Right On! Magazine, just Sigmund.
âGirl, itâs sixty-five degrees out here. Ainât nobody catching a chill in California,â he drawled, his Indiana accent slipping back through the polished, media-trained veneer he used during daytime interviews. He turned his body toward the fence, resting one elbow on the top rail. âWhat you doing up? Thought you had that early shift at the clinic.â
âI do,â you sighed, walking over to the fence until only a few inches of redwood paneling separated the two of you. You leaned your hips against it, letting the steam from your chamomile tea rise into the cool night air. âMy sister came home at midnight talking about how she needs fifty dollars for a dress for senior pictures, my brother left his dirty work boots right in front of the refrigerator again, and my aunt called from Chicago at one in the morning just to tell me she had a bad dream about my uncleâs gout.â
Jackie let out a soft, deep rumble of a laughâthe kind that didnât reach his throat during the daytime, reserved only for moments like this. âSounds like a full house.â
âItâs a circus,â you corrected gently, looking up at him. Under the dim yellow bulb of your porch light, the shadows under his dark eyes were undeniable. âAnd donât look at me like that. I know what your day looked like. I saw three different station wagons parked in your driveway by noon.â
âMan,â Jackie muttered, shaking his head and looking down at his sneakers. He rubbed the back of his neck, his knuckles cracking softly in the stillness. âBerry had us in the room all afternoon talking about this new television special. Then we had to run the choreography for âDancing Machineâ six times because Marlon kept turning on the wrong beat, and Joseph⌠well, you know how Joseph gets when the steps ainât crisp.â
âHe was giving you a hard time?â
âHe gives everybody a hard time. Thatâs his job, I guess,â Jackie said softly, though there was a bitter edge to it that he tried hard to smooth over. âHe looks at me and sees twenty-two years old, and he thinks I oughta be keeping the boys in line better. Says if they slip up on stage, itâs on my head âcause Iâm the oldest.â
You set your tea mug down on a flat fence post and turned your body fully toward him. Without asking, you reached across the fence line. Your fingers were warm as you reached up, setting your palm gently against the side of his neck, your thumb brushing over the tight muscle along his collarbone.
Jackie stilled completely. His breath hitched in his chest, a soft, involuntary sound.
âYou make it look easy, you know that?â you whispered, your thumb working a small, deliberate circle into the tension behind his ear. âEvery time I see you out front, youâre laughing, taking care of Randy, carrying gear, telling folks where to be. You act like it doesnât cost you anything.â
Jackie closed his eyes, head tilting into the pressure of your hand like a stray animal finally being petted. âIt costs plenty,â he admitted, his voice dropping an octave, so low it was practically a secret between the grass and the trees. âIt costs⌠everything I got some days. You just learn to stop asking whoâs coming to help, âcause you are the help.â
You let out a long, quiet breath that sounded so much like his own soul speaking back to him. âYeah. I know that feeling all too well.â
Jackie opened his eyes, looking down at you. You were twenty-one, the eldest daughter in a family that relied on your paycheck, your organizational skills, and your emotional sanity to keep their world turning. You were the one who bought the groceries, paid the electric bill when your motherâs hours were cut, and made sure your younger siblings didn't drop out of school. You were the rock of your driveway, just like he was the rock of his.
He reached up, his large, warm hand cupping over yours where it rested on his neck. His skin was smooth, his pulse steady beneath your palm.
âLook at us,â Jackie said, a faint, tender smile playing on his lips. âTwo heads of the household, standing over a fence at two in the morning, looking like two lost kids.â
âWe arenât lost,â you murmured, leaning slightly closer over the wood. âWe just need a break.â
âThen take one,â Jackie said softly. His thumb stroked the back of your wrist, gentle and protective. âJust for five minutes. Right here. Donât think about your sister, donât think about your brotherâs boots. Just stand here with me.â
For five minutes, nobody called his name. Nobody asked you for money. The world stayed small, contained entirely within the three feet of space between his porch light and yours.
Four months passed in a blur of endless rehearsal schedules, late-night phone calls, and stolen moments across the low redwood fence. By January of 1974, a heavy, uncharacteristic winter storm had rolled through the San Fernando Valley. Rain lashed against the roof tiles in sheeted waves, turning the dirt flowerbeds into red mud and swelling the gutters along the street until they overflowed into the storm drains.
At seven in the evening, the power grid in Encino gave out completely.
The neighborhood went dark in an instant, the amber glow of the streetlights blinking out in unison and leaving the houses illuminated only by dramatic, jagged flashes of lightning across the sky.
In your house, the sudden dark had caused immediate, predictable chaos. Your siblings had scrambled for candles, your mother was complaining about the food in the refrigerator spoiling, and your brother had managed to knock over a hall table in the pitch black. You had spent two hours finding flashlights, lighting oil lamps, settling everyone into their rooms with board games, and reassuring your mother that the storm would pass by morning.
By ten oâclock, everyone had finally drifted off to sleep, tired of sitting in the dark.
You were sitting alone on the living room floor, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, staring at the small, flickering yellow flame of a single pillar candle sitting on the coffee table. The house was cold, the rain beating a relentless, heavy rhythm against the windowpanes.
A low, heavy knock sounded at the back door.
You stood up, pulling your blanket tight around your shoulders, picking up a small flashlight. You walked to the kitchen and unlatched the heavy deadbolt.
Jackie stood on the covered back porch, illuminated by the flash of your light. He was wearing a dark brown corduroy jacket with a sheepskin collar, his hair slightly damp from the dash across the lawn. In his left hand, he held a dark wooden box; in his right, he held a thermos.
âPowerâs out over there too, huh?â you asked, stepping back to let him inside.
âTotal blackout,â he said, slipping out of his wet corduroy jacket and hanging it over the back of a kitchen chair. He looked at you in the dim beam of the flashlight, his eyes dark and warm. âBoys are all asleep. Joseph drove into town before the rain hit hard to meet with some promoters, and Motherâs got the younger ones settled. I thought⌠well, I thought you might be sitting over here in the dark by yourself.â
âI was,â you admitted, leading him back into the candlelit living room.
Jackie set the wooden box and the thermos down on the thick shag carpet. He unbuttoned his collar, settling down onto the floor beside you, pulling his long legs in close. He reached for the thermos, unscrewing the top and pouring a steaming cup of spiced cider, handing it to you first.
âBrought medicine,â he said with a faint smile.
You took the cup, the warmth spreading through your chilly fingers instantly. âWhatâs in the box, Sigmund?â
âSomething to keep us from going crazy,â he replied. He opened the wooden latch of the box, revealing a battery-operated portable record playerâa sleek, portable Panasonic unit he used on tour buses. Beside it were three 45rpm vinyl records.
He placed a record onto the small spindle, flipped the switch, and set the needle down gently.
The soft, scratchy, beautiful opening notes of Gladys Knight & the Pipsâ âBest Thing That Ever Happened to Meâ drifted into the dark living room, filling the quiet corners of the house with a warm, analog soul.
Jackie turned to you, reaching out to take your free hand, pulling your blanket down enough to lace his fingers through yours. âSit closer,â he commanded gently. âItâs cold in here.â
You didnât argue. You slid across the carpet until you were tucked against his side, your head resting in the hollow of his shoulder, the smell of rain and fresh cider clinging to his clothes.
âYou look beat tonight, baby,â Jackie murmured, his voice sinking into the rhythm of the music. His fingers gently began to massage the base of your thumb, working out the tension built up from hours of household chores.
âI am,â you whispered, closing your eyes. âMy brother got into an argument with his coach today. He wants to quit the track team. I spent three hours sitting on his bed trying to convince him that heâs throwing away his future just because he doesnât like being yelled at.â
He let out a soft, sympathetic grunt. âKids donât see the big picture. They just see the guy yelling at âem. I know how he feels, honest⌠but heâs lucky heâs got you to set him straight. If I didnât have my brothers, I donât know where theyâd end up.â
âAnd who sets you straight, Jackie?â you asked softly, turning your head to look up at his profile in the candlelight. âWhen youâre mad, or tired, or feel like quitting⌠who sits on your bed for three hours?â
Jackie went quiet. The record continued to spin, Gladys Knightâs voice soaring over the soft hum of the rain outside.
He didnât answer for a long time. He just stared at the flickering candle flame, his jaw working slightly.
âNobody,â he said finally, his voice barely audible over the storm. âYou donât get that luxury when youâre the first one born. You donât get to have a breakdown, âcause if you break down, the line behind you breaks down too.â
He turned his head to look at you, and for the first time since youâd known him, you saw the immense, terrifying vulnerability he kept hidden behind his handsome smile and his cool, easygoing stride. He looked like a young man carrying the weight of a multi-million-dollar family empire on shoulders that were never meant to carry it alone.
âSometimes,â he whispered, his hand tightening on yours, âI just wanna run away. Just drive that Ferrari as far down Route 66 as the gas will take me, and not look back for a month.â
Your heart bruised for him. You reached up, setting your cup aside, and placed both of your hands against his cheeks, forcing him to look at you directly.
âYou donât have to run away, Sigmund,â you said, your voice fierce and gentle all at once. âYou just have to come over here. When youâre in this room, with me⌠you arenât the leader of the Jackson 5. You arenât Josephâs oldest son. Youâre just a twenty-two year old man who gets to sit down and test.â
Jackie looked at you, his chest rising and falling in deep, rugged breaths. A single, silent tear slipped down his cheek, catching the yellow light of the candle.
He didnât say anything. He just leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his arms coming around your waist, pulling you into him so tightly it took your breath away. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone, his body trembling slightly as he finally let go of the tension heâd been holding since he was twelve years old.
You wrapped your arms around his back, holding his shoulders, rocking him gently against the beat of the rain on the roof. You rubbed your hand in slow, steady circles over his spine, whispering sweet, soft nothings into his earâreassurances that he was good enough, that he had done enough, that he didnât have to hold the sky up tonight.
They stayed like that until the record finished, the needle clicking softly in the final groove, leaving only the sound of their shared breathing and the storm outside.
Winter melted into spring, and by May of 1974, Encino was ablaze with early summer flowersâpurple bougainvillea spilling over the white stone walls, jacaranda trees dropping soft violet petals onto the driveways, and the air smelling of sweet honeysuckle and warm asphalt.
It was a Saturday morning, and for the first time in the nine months youâd known Jackie, your own house was in absolute, unmanageable crisis.
Your younger sister had been rejected from her dream college, your brother had managed to back your motherâs station wagon into a light pole, and your aunt had arrived unannounced from Chicago with three suitcases and an attitude that could sour milk. You had been up since five in the morningâmediating fights, filling out insurance forms for the car, cooking breakfast for six people, and trying to keep your mother from having an absolute nervous breakdown in the kitchen.
By eleven oâclock, you were standing on your back patio, holding an empty laundry basket, your eyes burning with unshed tears of pure, overwhelming frustration. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of other peopleâs needs, your lungs filling with water every time you tried to catch your breath.
The wooden gate between the yards clicked open.
Jackie walked across the grass. He wasnât wearing his usual casual clothesâhe was dressed in a sharp, tailored yellow button-down shirt, white trousers, and leather loafers, looking every bit the handsome star. But his eyes werenât looking at the neighborhood; they were fixed entirely on you.
Heâd seen the station wagon hit the pole two hours ago. Heâd heard the yelling from his bedroom window. Heâd watched you run up and down the stairs through the kitchen window for three straight hours.
He walked right up to you, took the heavy plastic laundry basket out of your hands, and set it down on the grass without saying a word.
âJackie, I canât talk right now,â you choked out, your voice tight and dangerous, threatened by the tears pressing behind your eyelids. âMy mother is crying, my brother is being an idiot, and I have to go to the grocery store beforeââ
âNo,â Jackie said.
It was a single, firm wordâspoken not with anger, but with an absolute, unyielding authority that stopped you dead in your tracks.
âWhat?â you blinked.
Jackie didnât answer. He stepped past you, opened your back screen door, and walked right into your chaotic kitchen.
Your mother was sitting at the table, surrounded by papers. Your brother was standing by the fridge, looking sulky. Your aunt was loudly complaining about the heat.
Jackie walked into the room, his presence instantly filling the space with a natural, commanding charisma heâd honed over years of stage work and family leadership. He put on his warmest, most charming, unshakeable big-brother smile.
âMorning, maâam,â Jackie said smoothly, leaning down to give your mother a gentle kiss on the cheek. âAuntie, good to see you again. Look, I heard about the carâdonât you worry about that for a second. I already called my mechanic down on Ventura Boulevard. Heâs sending a tow truck over in twenty minutes, and heâs gonna fix that bumper on my tab as a favor to the family.â
Your mother blinked, her mouth opening in shock. âJackie, oh, honey, you donât have toââ
âItâs already done,â he smiled, turning his head to look at your brother. âAnd you, manâgrab your jacket. Youâre coming over to my house to help Randy clean out the garage. Youâre gonna earn the money to pay me back for that bumper, and youâre gonna do it today.â
Your brother looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at Jackieâs cool, resolute expressionâthe look of an elder brother who did not take backtalkâmade him nod his head silently and reach for his shoes.
Jackie turned back to your mother, his smile warm and steady. âAnd as for your daughter⌠Iâm takinâ her out for the afternoon. Sheâs off the clock.â
Before anyone in your family could protest, Jackie walked back out onto the patio, grabbed your hand, and led you straight through the open wooden gate, across his lawn, and into his silver Ferrari parked in the driveway.
He opened the passenger door, helped you slide onto the leather seat, slamming it shut, and walked around to the driverâs side. He got in, turned the key, and the heavy v6 engine roared to life with a satisfying, deep purr.
He backed out of the driveway before your aunt could step onto the porch to call your name.
You sat in the passenger seat, staring at him in absolute wide-eyed disbelief as the Ferrari cruised down the tree-lined streets of Encino, heading towards the open highway.
âWhat⌠what did you just do?â you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Jackie looked over at you, one hand on the steering wheel, a brilliant, proud, triumphant grim lighting up his entire face. His dark eyes were sparkling in the California sunshine.
âI just did what youâve been doinâ for me for nine months,â He said, his voice brimming with satisfaction. âI took care of it.â
You stared at him, and suddenly, the heavy, suffocating lump in your throat dissolvedânot into tears, but into a loud, bright, hysterical burst of laughter that filled the car. You leaned back against the leather headrest, laughing until your water watered, feeling the absolute, miraculous freedom of having someone else step up to fight your battles for you.
Jackie laughed with you, his hands reaching across the center console to grab yours, squeezing your fingers tight as he accelerated onto the Ventura Freeway, heading toward the coast.
An hour later, he parked the Ferrari on a high bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Malibu. The sky was a brilliant, endless blue, the ocean churning below in white, foaming waves, the cool salt breeze blowing through the open car windows.
He shut off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned in his seat to face you fully.
He reached out, gently pulling you across the console until you were sitting sideways in his lap, your back resting against his chest, his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist.
âBetter?â he whispered into your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both looked out over the vast, sparkling water.
âBetter,â you breathed, leaning your head back against his shoulder, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe your frayed nerves. âI didnât think⌠I didnât know you could just walk in there and do that.â
âI told you,â He said softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles through the fabric of your shirt over your hip. âWeâre a team, baby. You spend all your time being the rock for them, and I spend all my time being the rock for my boys. But when it comes to us? We take turns.â
He turned his head, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your neck, lingering there until you let out a long, contented sigh.
âI spent my whole life thinking I had to carry everything by myself,â Jackie whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. âMy dad taught me that a man doesnât complain, he just works. He carries the weight until his knees give out. But then I met you⌠and I realized I donât gotta carry it alone. You give me a place to lay my head down, girl. Youâre my peace.â
You turned in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his beautiful, earnest face. You reached up, tracing the high arch of his cheekbone, the line of his jaw, the soft texture of his lips.
âAnd youâre mine, Sigmund,â you whispered back. âYouâre my safe harbor.â
Jackie smiledâa deep, genuine, effortless smile that reached all the way to his soul. He leaned forward, closing the small distance between you, and pressed his lips against yours in a deep, slow, reverent kiss that tasted like salt air, warm sunshine, and long-awaited rest.
When he finally pulled back, he didnât let you go. He kept you tucked close against his chest, his chin resting on your head, his hands holding you like the precious, irreplaceable gift you were.
Down below, the ocean waves crashed relentlessly against the rocks, eternal and busy. Back in Encino, two houses were waiting with their phone calls, their family drama, and their endless demands.
But up on the bluff, inside the quiet leather interior of the Ferrari, the two oldest siblings were completely off the clock.
They didnât look at the dashboard clock. They didnât check the time. They just held each other, anchored at last, watching the sun begin its slow, golden descent into the sea.
Reader had a bad relationship with her ex boyfriend, he would tell her that sheâs too clingy, and he always made her feel like she was too much. Now Jermaine and reader are dating (they are still new) but sheâs holding back and Jermaine can feel it. While theyâre on a date, heâs questioning her, he wants to know if she trusts him or not. She finally opens up to him and tells her about her ex, he reassures that sheâs enough and she can be as clingy as she wants.
đ˛đ¨đŽđŤđŹ đđ¨ đĄđ¨đĽđ.
đŠđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ : jermaine jackson x black!reader
đŹđ˛đ§đ¨đŠđŹđ˘đŹ: haunted by an ex who made you feel like "too much", you hold your true feelings back to protect your heart. but jermaine senses the distance. is he going to stay or leave once he finds out the reason?
đđđ đŹ: '70s!jermaine, established relationship, fluff, angst (if you squint), sweet!jermaine, hurt & comfort, jermaine being a sweetheart bc why wouldn't he be?
đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 1.8k
đđđ˘đŹđ˛âđŹ đ§đ¨đđ: my last request for the weekend. thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, it was simply cute and i'm so glad to be able to put a jermaine fic out amongst the others i've seen. :)
Los Angeles held an aura like no other. The air was warm and thick, carrying the sweet, heavy scent of jasmine mingled with the faint, sharp exhaust drifting down from the Sunset Strip. The sun had long since slipped past the horizon, leaving behind a vast, bruised canvas of deep purple, burnt orange, and indigo painted across the California sky.
Inside the dimly lit corner booth of a quiet, low-key diner tucked far away from the flashing cameras and blinding lights of Hollywood, the rest of the world felt completely frozen in time.
Jermaine sat across from you, the soft glow of the vintage lamp overhead catching the sharp, impossibly handsome edge of his cheekbones and the dark, velvet sheen of his eyes. He looked effortless, dressed in a tailored rust-colored silk shirt unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a delicate silver chain, his iconic afro perfectly rounded, soft, and framing a face that had adorned millions of bedroom posters across the country. Everything about Jermaine Jackson exhaled soul, style, and steady, hypnotic cool rhythm.
Normally, being in his presence felt like listening to a smooth bassline on a warm summer nightârelaxing, grounding, and intoxicating all at once. But tonight, there was a quiet, restless tension hovering in the space between you two, thick as the ocean smog rolling off the Santa Monica hills.
âYou hardly touched your cherry pie, girl,â Jermaine said softly, his voice a low, smooth baritone that curled effortlessly around the faint sound of Marvin Gaye playing low from the jukebox near the counter. He reached across the red vinyl table, his warm fingers gently brushing against the back of your hand.
You flinchedâjust a tiny, almost imperceptible twitchâbefore catching yourself and offering him a small, polite, thoroughly practiced smile. âOh, Iâm sorry, Maine. I guess Iâm just not that hungry tonight. Itâs really good, though. Really.â
Jermaine didnât buy it for a single second. He leaned back into the vinyl cushion, resting his sharp chin in his hand, those deep, ridiculously perceptive eyes holding yours with unhurried patience. Heâd been noticing for weeks now. You two had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but from the very moment he laid eyes on you at the crowded Motown studio party in West Hollywood, he was completely hooked.
You were radiant, sharp, breathtakingly beautiful, with an infectious laugh that could stop traffic in the middle of Wilshire Boulevard.
Yet, every time things started to get real, every time a quiet moment offered a chance for genuine intimacy, you pulled back. You kept an invisible, fortress-like wall between your heart and his, carefully measuring every word, every touch, every single breath.
âLook at me, mama,â He said, his voice dropping an octave, honeyed and dead serious.Â
You looked up, swallowing hard against a sudden dry throat. âYeah?â
âWhatâs really going on in that pretty head of yours?â he asked, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes searching yours. âYouâve been miles away all evening. Dig this⌠I know weâre taking things slow, and I dig that, I really do. I ainât in no rush to force nothing. But it feels like every time I try to get close to you, you put up a big olâ stop sign. Youâre holding back on me, baby.â
Your stomach twisted into a nervous, tight knot. You looked down at your hands, nervously picking at your polished nails. âIâm not holding back, Jermaine. Iâm just⌠trying to be cool. I donât want to ruin things between us.â
âRuin things?â Jermaine scoffed gently, a small, puzzled smile touching the corners of his lips. âHow you gonna ruin things by being yourself? Ainât no way you could ruin this, baby. But right now, sitting across from you, I feel like you donât trust me. And that hurts me, for real. Iâm sitting here trying to give you my heart, and youâre acting like Iâm gonna drop yours the second you hand it over.â
âItâs not that I donât trust you, Maine,â you whispered, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of the confession you didnât want to make.
âThen what is it, fine thing?â he reached out again, and this time, he didnât give you room to pull away. He wrapped his large, warm hand around yours, lacing his fingers through yours with a gentle, immovable strength. âTalk to me. Lay it on me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I just want youâunfiltered, real, and right here with me.â
You swallowed down the rising lump in your throat, feeling the hot sting behind your eyes. You hated feeling vulnerable. You had sworn to yourself after your last relationship ended in tears and quiet embarrassment that you would never let another man make you feel crazy, weak, or small again. But looking at Jermaineâlooking at the genuine concern, the heavy devotion, and the complete lack of judgment in his dark eyesâthe walls you had spent months building began to fracture.
âMy ex,â you started, your voice barely audible over the low hum of the dinerâs refrigerator. âBefore I met you⌠I was with someone for almost two years.â
Jermaineâs eyes softened instantly, though his jaw set slightly at the mention of another man who had hurt you. He gave your hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. âGo on, baby. Iâm listening.â
âHe⌠he made me feel like I was exhausting to love,â you admitted, the tears finally brimming over your eyelashes, spilling hot and fast down your dark cheeks. âWhenever I wanted to talk to him, or hold his hand, or just sit on the phone at night⌠heâd tell me I was too needy. He said I was too clingy, that I was suffocating him. He always made me feel like my feelings were too loud, my love was too heavy, and that I was just⌠too much.â
You wiped a tear away quickly with the back of your sleeve, feeling a sudden flash of shame, but Jermaine leaned forward, his entire demeanor shifting into something fierce and protective.
âHe told me that if I didnât learn how to dial it back, no man would ever stay,â you continued, looking directly into Jermaineâs eyes now, completely laying your heart bare. âSo when I met you⌠youâre this incredible, talented star, Jermaine. Everyone wants a piece of your time. And youâve been so sweet to me. I was just so terrified that if I showed you how much I like you, if I called you too often, or asked to see you too much, youâd look at me and see the exact same thing. Youâd think I was too much, and youâd walk away.â
A deep, quiet silence settled over the booth.
Jermaine stared at you, his chest rising and falling slowly under his silk shirt. The easygoing smile was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, intense tenderness that made your breath catch in your chest. He shook his head slowly, letting out a heavy breath that sounded half like pure disbelief and half like sorrow for everything you had been carrying alone.
Without saying another word, Jermaine slipped out of his side of the booth and slid into yours, pressing his frame right up against your side. He wrapped a heavy, protective arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his chest. You can smell his signature sceneâsandalwood, sweet musk, and rich leatherâand feel the steady, reassuring thud of his heart through his shirt.
âListen to me real good, mama,â he murmured, his lips resting right near your ear, his voice raspy and low. âThat cat was a fool. A straight-up, out of his mind fool.â
He reached down, gently putting two fingers under your chin to lift your face so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.
"You hear me? He didn't know what he had. He had solid gold in his hands and treated it like dirt because he wasn't man enough to step up and handle a real, beautiful woman," Jermaine said, his eyes burning with a sincerity that vibrated through you. "You are never too much for me, baby. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Dig?"
"Jermaine..."
"No, I mean it, fine thing," he insisted, brushing a stray tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, his touch feather-light. "You wanna call me five times a day? Call me. Iâll answer every single time with a smile on my face just to hear your voice. You wanna hold my hand everywhere we go? Girl, Iâll hold your hand on the red carpet, down the street, in front of the whole world, and brag about how I got the finest, smartest lady in California on my arm."
A tearful, breathless laugh slipped out of your mouth, making Jermaine smileâthat brilliant dazzle of white teeth that could melt iron.
"Iâm serious, baby," he chuckled softly, sliding his hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your high cheekbone. "Donât you ever dial yourself back for me. If youâre clingy, then Iâm clingy right back. I want all of you. The loud parts, the quiet parts, the deep parts... all of it. You ain't suffocating me, mama. Youâre the best breath of fresh air Iâve had in my whole life."
The massive weight that had been resting on your shoulders for months suddenly dissolved into nothing, leaving you feeling light, almost dizzy with pure relief. You leaned your head onto his broad shoulder, letting out a shaky, cathartic breath, and for the very first time since you met him, you allowed yourself to completely surrender into his space.
Jermaine tightened his arm around you, kissing the crown of your head, letting his lips linger in your hair as he held you close to his side.
"You trust me now, baby?" he whispered into the soft dark of your hair, his tone rich with affection.
"Yeah," you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling yourself as close to him as physically possible, feeling the tension drain out of your body. "I trust you, Jermaine."
"That's what I'm talkin' about," he said softly, a deep, satisfied vibration chest-deep. He reached over with his free hand, picked up a forkful of the cherry pie you had ignored earlier, and held it up to your lips with an expectant grin. "Now, eat some of this pie, fine thing. We got all night, and I ain't letting you go anywhere."
You laughed, taking the bite, feeling the sweet, warm cherries on your tongueâbut feeling something infinitely sweeter anchoring itself deep in your heart. Sitting in that red vinyl booth on a 1970s Los Angeles night, completely wrapped in the arms of a man who cherished every single layer of who you were, you finally knew you were safe.
On this particular winter night, Joseph Jackson had ordered a compulsory family dinner, meaning that though his son had left Hayvenhurst nearly three years ago to move in with his wife immediately after their wedding, tonight was one of those times where he had to be back in his adolescent abode.
He was currently recording an unauthorised interview by the fountain outside the estate, a video heâd decided on randomly at the peak of the eveningâs boredom as he anxiously anticipated dinner. While he spoke whimsically into the air, you began to walk up to him, holding a hot mug of coffee, its purpose to help him stay energised for the night ahead.
Despite the darkness, it was only five-thirty in the afternoon, because it was December and Michael loved to sit out in the winter dusk, when the moon and the stars appeared. He would be performing a standalone concert here in California at nine o'clock, and as usual was behaving as if there wasn't any necessary preparation to be done. It was true that he was talented enough and naturally skilled enough to perform on both little sleep and little food, but you knew he'd had one too many sleepless nights recently, therefore caffeine was incredibly necessary.
He didn't notice you approach at first, because he was gazing up and off into the distanceâentirely away with the fairies, and in turn so ignorant to his very own Tinker Bell beside him.
â⌠But this is really magic to me âcause itâs like, um⌠Itâs like a painting. Itâs very artistic. Itâs magic! âŞâ So wonderful⌠âŞââ
You snapped your fingers, and a man behind the camera chuckled.
Now Michael turned to you immediately, and his eyes lit up. "Hi, pretty," he smiled, orbs glazed over with both exhaustion and adoration. To the camera, he spoke in reference to you. âSee! More magic! My beautiful princess.â
"Hi, baby," you grinned, running your hand over his cheek and kissing his lips twice. "I made you some coffee."
You presented the drink to him, but he only grimaced in disgust. "Minnie, y'know I don't like coffee."
"Micâ" you began, but he interrupted with persistence.
"I hate coffee."
"Michael," you said firmly, sitting down beside him by the fountain and taking no notice of the camera pointing directly at you both. "You got almost no sleep last nightâyou're gonna drink this."
"No, 'm not," he pressed on, like a stubborn child.
You set the mug down and rolled your eyes. "You need the energy for later. Don't argue with me."
"Yeah, I know, girl, but I don't like coffee."
"God, y'wanna tell me that again?! Didn't hear you the million other timesâŚ"
Now you were bickering like an old married couple, despite being in a mere two-and-a-half-year marriage at that stage. You argued like this a lot, because Michael could be so stubborn and frustrating, refusing to listen to you even when you knew what he needed. And it was then always the case that after each argument was over, you'd both go back to being sugary sweet as if nothing had even happened. The healthiest marriages were often that way, you figured.
"I got an idiot for a wife, folks," Michael joked to the camera, in one of those silly voices he always prank-called people with.
That only irritated you further, so you nudged his side and he nudged yours back, almost knocking over the coffee between you as he did. The camera continued to roll despite the interview's disruption, but you still weren't giving it a second thought. Having been so used to cameras throughout your adolescence, you often forgot they were there, even in private moments. Your whole life was an example of human surveillance.
"Michael, you nearly knocked it over!"
"Yeah, whateverâdoesn't matter 'cause 'm not drinkin' it anyway," he muttered, turning his head.
But you reached out and turned him back by his jaw. "I said don't argue with me, Jackson."
"You're the one arguin' with me, Mrs Jackson."
"No, I'm tellin' you somethin' constructiveâthat you need to drink this coffee now, and I'll also say that you later need to drink another coffee, before you go onstage."
"âs not my fault I couldn't sleep last night."
You took hold of his hand absentmindedly as you replied, your fingers playing with his slender ones. "I know, but now there's somethin' you can do about it. I put milk and enough sugar in it, y'know." Michael always had a sweet tooth, where his main dislike for coffee was that it was usually so bitter.
He looked down at your interlinked fingers and instinctively gave a small smile, before looking back to you again and sighing in frustration.
"Try a sip," you urged. "It's not too strong, honey, I promise."
He looked at the camera and scrunched his face up in playful irritation. "Sorry for the interlude, viewers."
You looked into the lens too and shook your head with a chuckle, pinching his cheek. "My husband is the idiot. Not me."
"That's mean, darlin'," Michael frowned in his hypocrisy, before picking up the drink and sniffing it cautiously.
You snuggled into his side, linking your arm into his free one and resting your head on his shoulder. He took his first slow sip, still grimacing as he did, but as the hot liquid went down his throat, he nodded slowly and comfortably.
"It's not that bad, actually," he murmured, shy at his previously vehement refusal.
"Exactly," you smiled, kissing his cheek. You ran your thumb over it slowly, getting lost in his pretty face as he sipped some more.
Then you turned to the camera, hand now rubbing over his knuckles instead. "Michael Jackson is one stubbornâ"
Your speech was cut off into giggles as Michael nudged your side again with the hand not cradling the coffee; and of course in doing so, he almost spilled said coffee over his pants. You exhaled a loud sigh, paired with a straight, lightheartedly unamused face.
"This is what I have to put up with," you continued playfully into the lens. "Our marriage is horrible. I don't know why Iâ"
He'd set the mug down now, in order to start a real playfight, chuckling as you squealed. He tried to pull you up onto his lap to settle you there, but you protested.
"No, I gotta go now, babyâ'm not stayin'," you said softly, once the fight had subsided.
Michael immediately frowned again, tugging you closer into him. "Huh, why?"
"I've got some stuff to take care of with my producer, but I'll see you tonight at the show." You leaned forward to kiss him, one hand moving to his soft cheek and poking it as you did; but then you noticed the froth above his upper lipâas a product of his drinkâand you chuckled at the adorable sight. Carefully, you wiped the foam away with your thumb, then smoothed over the curve of his lips before warming the flesh with your kiss.
Michael blushed profusely, eyes clamping shut in a shyness that only increased when you then cradled his jaw and said something that made his heart flutter.
"Make sure you drink the rest for me, beautiful."
He rolled his eyes at the intimate adjective youâd used for him, and made a joke to the camera to conceal the effects of it, because he believed that at least when in public it should be the man giving the woman such gentle affection and romantic speech, not the other way around.
"She's so corny," he sighed theatrically, and you rolled your eyes, before leaning in again.
"Shh. Bye, angelfaceâI'll see you later," you spoke airily, kissing him twice more.
"Oh bye, honey!" Michael replied in that sweet, whimsical tone of his, poking your cheek as you'd poked his a moment ago, before you stood up to leave.
"Remember to feed Brandon by six!" you called back, referring to your almost two year old son, who would be staying there for the night. "His yogurtâs in the fridge!"
The interview resumed, and he finished the coffee only because youâd really wanted him to, while unable to think of anything but you as he yapped to the camera. Throughout, he kept bringing up his 'beautiful, wonderful, magical wife'âmuch to the amusement of the guys recording, and to his own sister who joined him later on and teased his lovestruck soul. But Michael only ever laughed off the teasing commentary, so grateful that he had a lady to love profoundly and unashamedly for all time.
angelcrescent Š 2026 â๨ŕ§ËâĄâËâš everytime i watch this interview i wanna stroke his pretty face so badly...
synopsis: you and Jaafar have an unexpected reunion after your breakup, you both arenât over each other
warnings: angst, fluff, smut, reconciliation sex, unprotected sex, jaafars pretty pathetic for reader, and lowkey cheating if you squint
5 months later
The restaurant was extremely busy as you walked through aisles with trayâs, trying not to bump into anyone. You were helping your mom by taking over for her shift for the week since she was sick.
The owner had a soft spot for your mom, she was a loyal worker for years. ây/n could you serve my table for me? They need more help in the back.â Your coworker ask as you set down the trays in the kitchen, âSure!â You dusted your hands on your apron and grabbed her notepad and pen. âItâs table 7.â
You walked to the booth only seeing a womanâs head from afar, âHi, What can I get you started with?â You flashed a smile as you approached her, looking back down at your notepad.
âY/N?â You froze, hearing a voice you knew too well. You looked up and saw Jaafar sitting there with an expression you couldnât read, but you were both feeling the same emotion.
âYou know her?â The woman across from him spoke up, you were both too starstruck to register anything else around you.
âJaafar?â She snapped his fingers in his face, snapping him out of the trance he was in. âYeah.. Sheâs- an old friend!â You interrupt, they were clearly on a date, both dressed fancy. You couldnât have him announce that you were his ex on a date.
âSo what can I get you two?â Jaafar was still trying to process what was happening, his eyes searched your face for any type of emotion. âIâll get the strawberry lemonade.â
âIâll get the sweet tea.â Jaafar tried to force his eyes to look anywhere else, but you were the only thing on his mind.
Even when his dateâs voice filled his ears, You were the only thing on his mind.
Jaafar noticed every time his eyes would dart to the kitchen area just to get a glimpse of you, or he would stare as you served different people.
So many memories and emotions came flooding back to him, Your first date played in his mind, your first kiss, and his favorite memory was the first time you guys had sex. Everything came rushing back for him.
On the other hand you were a mess mentally, Your mind was scrambled. You couldnât help but glance at him every time you would walk out the kitchen.
After the break up you deactivated all of your socials, got a new phone, a new number, and you locked your old phone away in a box full of Jaafar items. You wanted to close that chapter in your life without feeling like complete shit, But now that said same chapter is in front of you.
You didnât properly move on, you still thought about what he was doing from time to time. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing.. who are you kidding, he clearly wasnât.
He now has a girlfriend and you definitely werenât on his mind, but there were many things on your mind at least.
How fast did Jaafar move on?
What does he think of you?
Was it easy to move on?
A plate dropping snapped you out of your thoughts, You shook your head and grabbed the drinks from the top counter.
You walked to Jaafarâs table, The womanâs eyes pierced your soul. Her smile from earlier was gone.
âOkay, I got a strawberry lemonade and a sweet tea.â You placed them down, handing them straws.
âSo, Are you two ready to order?â You flash them both a smile, âIâll have the shrimp Alfredo with the garlic bread.â You nodded as you wrote her order down.
âAnd you?â
An explanation for starters, is what Jaafar wanted to say to you. âIâll have the steak, well done.â He folded his menu and handed it to you, âWould you like a side of fries with that?â His heart twinged, you still remembered his favorite.
âYes.â He smiled slightly at you, His smile still did something to you. You nodded and grabbed the menu, your fingertips grazing slightly, causing chills to run through each of your spines.
You walked away still feeling his eyes on you, âBabe?â Jaafar heard snapping which pulled him out of his trance, âW- What?â He looked towards his girlfriend.
âWhat type of old friend is she? Because you look like a lost puppy but instead heâs finally found his owner.â She snapped at him with her teeth gritted.
âMaddie, Donât start.â Jaafar internally rolled his eyes, âItâs not like that.â He lied with an exhale, before sipping on his drink.
âWhy are you acting like Iâm crazy?â Jaafar groaned lowly, âIâm not but youâre making assumptions based off a five minute interaction.â
âDonât turn this date into something it shouldnât be.â Jaafar grabbed her hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
âOkay, Iâm sorry.â She leaned forward and pecked his lips slowly.
You watched from afar, trying to force yourself to look away. Who were you kidding? You definitely werenât on his mind and you were clearly stuck in the past.
He moved on.
You chewed on your bottom lip, finally managing to pry your eyes away from him. You walked into the back, running your hand down your face. âYou good girl?â Your coworkerâs voice pulled you out of your thoughts, âY- Yeah itâs just busy, my mind is all over the place.â You gave her a forced smile as you walked away.
You grabbed the tray of food balancing it on your hand, as you walked down the aisle trying to avoid bumping into people.
âOkay! Hereâs your shrimp Alfredo, and the steak with a side of fries.â You smiled down at them, as you placed the plates on the table.
âTheyâre both extremely hot, so Iâd advise you to wait a minute.â They nodded, âThank you.â
âNo problem, Iâll be around if you need something from me.â You walked away, your smile immediately dropping from your face.
You walked out the back of the restaurant as you lit a cigarette, âFinally.â You exhaled before putting it between your lips.
âY/Nâ You heard your name being called, making you stop in your tracks. Jaafar stood there with his hands in his pockets, a cap covering his eyes.
âJaafar?â He walked closer to you and you backed up instinctively, making him stop in his tracks.
âI just wanna talk.â
âThereâs nothing to talk about.â You blew smoke out your mouth, âWhenâd you start doing that?â Jaafar gestured to the cigarette in your hand, âWhat does it matter tâyou?â His hands dropped to his sides, âI just wanna have a conversation.â
âAbout what?â You kicked a rock with your shoe, avoiding eye contact.
âStop with the bullshit, you know exactly what. You end our relationship with a letter and you block me so I canât call you?!â He grabbed your hand, his hands immediately warming your cold ones up.
âDonât touch me.â He immediately let go of your hand, âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to touch you.. I just-â He sighed and ran his hands down his face.
âI just wanna know why.â He spoke with a low tone, his voice cracking. âWas it something I did? Did I push you too much- God, Jaafar stop being so self centered- Not everything is about you.â You turned away from him, you thought the colder you were the faster he would give up.
âAre you kidding me?â He scoffed and walked closer to you, âYou donât get to do that, you left me with a pathetic note!â
âDid you think I wouldnât have cared? The person I love disappearing without a word, Do you think that low of me?â
âYou seem fine now! You have a girlfriend- Donât pull that card on me.â He cut your words off, âYouâve moved on, why does my reasoning still matter Jaafar?â
âBecause I still love you! I always will!â You froze, his words making your heart pump rapidly.
âDo- Donât say that.â He grabbed you suddenly, making you drop your cigarette, but you couldnât care less.
He cupped your face, your face was barely an inch from his. âIâve been trying to fill an empty void with Maddie, I miss you more and more everyday. I miss your laugh, your smile, I miss waking up next to you, I miss it all.â
âWe canât happen again Jaafar, weâre better off separate. You have to learn that, I did.â You removed his hands from your face, âWhat is that suppose to mean?â
âAsk your father.â You dropped his hands from your face and walked away.
Jaafar let out a shaky breath as he ran his hands down his face. âFuck.â
Jaafar sipped his water as he waited for his father to arrive, his leg bouncing rapidly. He was at a breakfast spot, along with Randy and jermajesty. âYou good bro?â Jermajesty looked towards him.
âMaddie probably complained about something again.â Randy joked, making jaafar kick his leg. âShut up dumbass.â Randy laughed loudly,
âIâm waiting for dad to get here, I invited yâall asses to come, so someone could stop me from going crazy.â
âWhat happened now?â Jaafar ignored Randyâs question as Jermaine walked in.
âHey sons, did yall order already?â Jaafar sat up straight, cracking his knuckles.
âJaafar wanted to wait for you.â Jaafar forced a smile, âI actually donât have an appetite.â Jaafar mumbled as he sipped his water then put it down a hard clink.
âI hope youâre paying-â Randyâs words got cut short with a kick from under the table from jermajesty, He could tell something was up.
âI saw.. Y/N two days ago, can you believe it? She served me at a restaurant.â Jermaine froze for the slightest second, but recovered quickly. âDidnât you two have a-â Jermajesty kicked Randy, once again signaling him to shut up.
âI always knew she was no good for you.â Jermaine avoided eye contact, Jaafar could tell he was hiding something.
âYou know I hate how you talk about her.â Jermaine groaned, âI donât know why youâre still defending that gold digger, you have Maddie and sheâs much better in all aspects!â Jermaine complained.
âFar from it.â Jaafar rose forward in his seat, âI didnât just see her, I talked to her.â Jermaine finally looked up, âYou came up actually, about why she left me.â
âI was doing it in your best in- Aht, I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her, I wanna know why my fathers words played into the reason my relationship went left.â Jaafar cut him off, keeping his voice low.
Jermaine cleared his throat and told him exactly what happened, Randy and jermajesty looked at each other with terrified expressions plastered on their face. They knew Jaafar was gonna lose his shit right then and there.
âAre you fucking kidding me?!â Jermajesty immediately held Jaafar down in his seat, so he couldnât stand up. âThis is why I didnât tell you, you were gonna react out of character and sheâs already made us fought enough!â
âYou have no right to speak to my woman! You made her rethink her entire existence and our relationship!â Jaafar yelled now causing a scene, a few people pulling out their phones to record.
âYouâre being irrationalâ You made her feel like complete shit, and she thought she deserved it! She suffered criticism from you and the media. You were supposed to welcome her, but instead you went behind my back and filled complete bullshit into her head.â Jaafar pointed his finger at him, now in his face.
âYou know I love Y/N, and you know if the choice came down to it.. I wouldâve picked her over you, but you couldnât have that with your ego, huh?â Jermajesty slightly pulled at Jaafar to keep him from lunging at Jermaine
âThatâs why as soon as she left you pushed maddie into my lap, youâre a pathetic excuse of a father. Iâve been miserable the past 5 months all because of you. You ran the person I truly loved out of my life, all because you couldnât handle someone being a lower class than you. Donât contact me again.â Jaafar yanked himself out of his brotherâs grip and walked out the restaurant.
Jermajesty sighed loudly, âIâll go check on him.â Jaafar bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
His life didnât feel real, He couldnât believe what just happened. âJaafar wait!â Jermajesty swung the door open, âNo, Iâm not going back in there!â Jaafar rose up and walked to his car.
âI know- just calm down for a second.â Jermajesty grabbed his shoulders, âWhat dad did was fucked up, weâre definitely gonna get on his ass about it.â
Jermajesty hugged him briefly and tightly, âYou should go talk to her again- Itâs too late! She already gave up on us.â A singular tear rolled down his cheek, âI need a break, I canât deal with this.â Jaafar quickly walked away to his car.
He went to the only place he knew that could calm him down.
âSweetie, Have you seen this?â Your mom held up her phone, as you walked into the kitchen. âMama, now you know damn well I donât have social media anymore.â You chuckled while grabbing a pop tart, âI know but itâs about Jaafar.â You froze in your spot, âI donât wanna know about him.â You lied. âHeâs yelling at his father in this video, some fan recorded him.â Your eyes widen slightly.
âI donât care.â You walked to your room and immediately got on your phone, placing your headphones around your ear. You searched him up on safari to find what your mom was talking about.
Your thumb hovered over the play button, you pressed it hesitantly. Your ears immediately filled with yelling. Jaafar was standing up, leaning over a table as he yelled in Jermaineâs face.
Tears brimmed at your eyes, your heart twinged. The exact opposite of what you wanted was happening, you didnât wanna cause a riff between him and his father, so you put his feelings first and left.
You bit your nail as you kept replaying the video, You didnât know what overtook you but you got up.
You stepped into a pair of shorts and grabbed your keys, You walked out your room and down the hallway. âIâm gonna be out for a minute mama, donât wait up!â You kicked your slides on and left out the front door.
It was a shot in the dark but deep down you knew, you knew Jaafar would only go one place after a situation like this.
You pulled up to a lake near a forest, You knew Jaafar loved the sound of water and seeing animals that were close by.
You grabbed your blanket off the passenger seat and got out the car, you walked down the small hill and saw jaafar sitting there. You approached him silently.
He was holding a duck, you stifled a laugh. âI donât think that duck likes you.â You called out, as you walked closer to him.
Jaafarâs head snapped in your direction, âY/N?â His face went from confusion to happiness in a split second. âHey.â You mumbled as you finally reached him.
âI- What are you doing here?â He looked up at you, âI come here sometimes too.â You lied, laying the blanket down behind him.
âCrinkle.â He pointed out as he let the duck go into the grass, you rolled your eyes playfully.
He sat down on the blanket, âI saw the video.â You mumbled as you took off your slides and sat on the blanket.
âIâm sorry.â You both said in unison, as you faced each other. A soft laugh erupted from the both of you, silence engulfed shortly after.
You spoke up first, âJaafar.. Iâm sorry for how I left things with you.â Jaafarâs stared into your eyes, you didnât notice how his eyes flickered to your lips. âYou didnât deserve-â Jaafar cupped your face and kissed you abruptly.
You squealed into the kiss, catching you off guard completely. You melted into the kiss, an unexplainable feeling washing over you as you closed your eyes.
You kissed him back, his tongue grazed your bottom lip, signaling he wanted you to open your mouth. You let him in without hesitation, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately. You moaned softly, feeling your tongues softly fight one another.
You pulled back slowly, âI still need to apologize- I donât care, I never did. I donât blame you for what happened, and I never will.. I was just upset but also happy, seeing you after a long time brought back so many overwhelming emotions.â He cut you off, placing his hand on top of yours.
âI love you and will never stop loving you, I donât care what anyone says, matter of fact Iâll kill-â Your eyes widened as you covered his mouth, âOkay thatâs enough from you.â He licked your hand, making you squeal and pull away.
âYouâre so gross.â You slapped his shoulder playfully, âWhat? You used to love when I licked you.â His words had your thighs clenching together.
âEspecially here.â He whispered as he leaned closer, licking the sensitive spot on your neck, causing a soft moan to erupt from your lips.
âAnd here.â Jaafar licked your collarbone, you squeezed your eyes shut. âWhat about- I broke up with her the day after I talked to you.â Your eyes widened, âI was trying to fill a void, based off my fatherâs decision.â You rubbed his face, âIâm sorry about your dad too, I know how you two were so close.â
Jaafarâs eye twitched at the mention of his dad, âI donât care about that bastard, not after what he said to you.â
âIâd choose you over him in a heartbeat.â You hid your face in your hands out of shyness, âI feel like this whole time youâve just been reassuring me, when I should be the one to do that.â You joked with a soft laugh, looking down at the blanket.
âI love loving you out loud, Iâm not ashamed of it. I know you love me, you donât have to say it.. you put my fatherâs and my feelings first, itâs time you put yours first.â He lifted up and grabbed a flower from the ground.
âSo, will you take me back so I can love you unconditionally?â He smiled while tying the flower into a ring shape. You giggled and put your hand out, âYes, I will take you back jaafar.â His smile widened even further, as he put it on your finger.
You picked a flower out the ground, âYour fingers are too damn big, give me your pinky.â He chuckled and stuck his pinky out.
âBut you love how big and long they are, so they can reach that spot you love.â He whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.
âJaafar.â You gasp and push him back on the blanket, He laughed loudly as he fell back.
âOh câmon, why are you acting brand new?â You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, straddling his waist so you were on top of him.
âMaybe I just forgot how horny you can be!â He scoffed and slapped your ass. âYouâre one to talk.â You smirked and leaned down, your hips rocking slightly.
âSee, youâre so eager for it.â He muttered as he kissed on your neck slowly, his kisses wet and warm on your skin.
âI missed this so bad, no one will ever compare to you.â You moaned softly as he tugged the hem of your shirt, pulling it up so your breast spilled out.
You two were so lost in each other, you didnât care that yâall were gonna have sex at a lake.
Jaafar rose up and held you as he gently laid you down on the blanket, so he was on top of you.
He unzipped his pants as you lifted up slightly and shimmied out your shorts. âI missed seeing you, everyday.â He muttered as he pulled his pants down along with his boxers.
âMe too, I couldnât finish without you.â His eyes flared with lust, hearing that turned him on to a new level. âOh yeah? I guess I have 5 months to make up for, huh?â You nodded as you bit down on your bottom lip, He wrapped his hand around his length and he stroked himself, Precum oozing out of his tip.
You sucked in a sharp breath, the cool air hitting your bare pussy. He lowered himself between your legs, dragging his tip down your slit.
âJaafar.â He let out a soft exhale before pushing his length in slowly, the pace he entered you with was torture.
Itâs like he wanted you to feel how much he was stretching you out, inch by inch.
âJaafar.. please.â You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut. Jaafar bit his lip harshly, practically drawing blood. The feeling of your walls squeezing around him was an indescribable feeling.
âItâs been a minute mama, youâre suffocating me.â He groaned, he grabbed your thighs as he rammed into you suddenly.
A scream erupted from your lips, âYou wanna let the whole word know weâre fucking?â He let out a breathless laugh as his hips drove into you.
âI- I canât h- help it.. youâre filling me up.â You spoke in between moans, biting your lip as you looked up at him with hazy eyes.
Jaafar moaned softly, his eyes squeezing shut for a split second. âYou almost made me cum just from that.â
He spread your legs even further to reach even deeper, hitting your cervix at a consistent pace. âRight there!â Your eyes roll to the back of your head, you were lost in pure ecstasy.
Jaafar delivered deep and rough strokes to you, you felt like your insides were screaming for help, wanting him to stop but keep going at the same time. The pleasure was overwhelming.
Jaafar leaned down and latched his tongue onto your nipple, âAh!â His tongue flicked around, as he sucked and bit your nipple.
He kissed up your chest, to your neck, and finally reached your soft plump lips, capturing you in a slow but sloppy kiss.
He rocked his hips into you as his hands traveled down your arms, he grabbed your hands intertwining them with his. Both of your moans were muffled by the kiss you were sharing, his tongue swirling around yours.
Jaafar pulled away, his face a few inches from yours. âI love you so much.â He whimpered as he looks down at you, He couldnât help the nonstop moans releasing from his mouth. Jaafar was overtook with pleasure, your tight walls squeezing him perfectly, and even tighter when he would go deeper.
âI love you too.â You cried out.
âIâm forever yours mama.â Jaafar whined, with a soft grunt. âThis is your dick.â He muttered as he went even faster, âI belong to you.â He moaned out loudly.
âSay itâ This is your dick.â Jaafar looked down at you with pleading eyes. âThis is m- my dick.â You whimpered, staring directly in his eyes.
âSay, I belong to you.â He groaned, âYou belong to me Jaafar.â Your eyes shutting from the pleasure.
âOh myâ fuck! shit!.â Jaafar felt you clench against him, he nuzzled his head into your neck.
âIâm cumming- Nghh!â Your vision went blurry as you saw stars, a coil that built up inside of you released, your legs wrapped around his torso as they trembled.
You pushed him even deeper, as the world seemed to stop moving around you, jaafar watched you come undone underneath him.
Your eyes twinkled under the moonlight, your orgasm rippled through you, you moaned louder than youâve ever before as your body pulsed against jaafar. Your cream coating his cock.
Jaafar kept going despite the fact that you just came, âJaafar.â You mewled, your vision went spotty. âI know you got one more for me baby.â You shook your head no as you tried to close your legs.
âI- I câ canât! It feels like I have to pee, jaafar please!â Jaafar ignored your pleas and drilled into you even harder, thrusting relentlessly into you.
Your walls clamped around him, Jaafar whimpered loudly before delivering one more rough stroke that brung him to his climax.
His abs clenched as his legs tensed up, his body convulsing, âI love you.â jaafar whispered in your ear repeatedly, that was it for you, his soft voice filling your ears, brung you to the edge. Your legs shook, as hot liquid rushed out of you, and onto Jaafarâs dick, dripping down to the blanket.
Jaafar moaned softly as he pulled out, his body going limp as he collapsed on you.
âItâll always be you.â He murmured into your neck, pressing light kisses. You couldnât help but smile, âI love you.â
a/n; I thought about not adding smut at the end and just fluff but why not both
spencer reid buries his face in the crook of your neck everytime you hug because the feeling of your soft skin on his face reminds him of cuddling naked with you, absolutely in bliss
spencer reid goes to stores youâve been together in and picks up every item you spent elevated time looking at, using his eidetic memory to his fullest advantage
spencer reidâs favorite place to be kissed (besides his lips) is right below his jawline underneath his ear. he likes how close you have to get to reach it, and he giggles every time you do.
spencer reid composes the music for your first dance at your wedding, an absolutely astonishing piece that he shyly insists is âjust math and sound vibrationsâ. no one knows that he read every book he could find on composition and spend 5 months before he even proposed learning how to create your perfect melody
spencer reid thinks that the best thing in the world is how you look in the sunshine. he never considered himself the âgoing for a walkâ type, but now everyday during golden hour he insists you go around the block âjust to see the sunset!â and spends the whole time with his eyes glued to you
spencer reid gets ever so slightly turned on the first time you explicitly ask him for money. it was a small thingâ youâd left your house without your wallet since spencer wanted to drive and had gone to the mall to spend some time out of the house. you fell absolutely in love with a bracelet you saw in the store and shyly walked up to him, asking for him to get it for you. he was reaching for his card before you finished your sentence, filled with pride that you were finally letting him take care of your unnecessary wants, alongside your needs. he began to let his mind wander to taking care of you in other ways, turned beet red, and quietly asked if you could go home.
âË⥠pairing . thriller!michael x f.blackreader
âË⥠premise . one day, you decided it was time for a new change about yourself. You didn't know if you wanted plaits, a new tattoo, a new piercing, or just something different about yourself in general. Then you finally came up with the bright idea to get a pixie cut.
âË⥠contains . fluff, kissing, pet names, hair cutting, michael being genuinely fascinated with your new look, michael being a down bad simp but you love it.
Your apartment â 1983
The itch for change had been humming under your skin for weeks.
When you woke up that morning, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror while unwrapping your bonnet, you knew you couldn't go another day of the same old routine. You had spent days tossing around ideas. Maybe getting long knotless plaits, booking a tattoo appointment, or finally getting that nose piercing you'd been eyeing. But as you stood in front of the vanity, running your fingers through your natural hair, the vision finally clicked into place with crystal clarity.
You were going to chop it all off. A soft, gorgeous, textured pixie cut.
Before heading out the door, you crept back into the bedroom to kiss your boyfriend goodbye. Michael was still half-asleep, buried under the heavy duvet in his silk pajamas, a mop of soft dark curls spilling over his pillow.
"Going to the salon,baby," you whispered, leaning down over him.
"Mm, okay mama...." He murmured, eyes barely opening. He reached up with a lazy, heavy arm wrapping it around your waist to tug you down for a slow, lingering kiss that smelled like morning sleep and sweet warmth. "Don't be too long. I miss you already."
You smiled and finally got off of him pulling your jacket on, "I won't baby, pinky promise." You grabbed your purse, "make sure you eat, I made breakfast, and your orange juice is in the fridge." You pointed your pointer finger at him. "I'm not joking michael, make sure you eat."
he was still half sleep, a small "mhm, drive safe baby" coming out his lips, you knew better to force him to eat any food. You also knew he had eating problems, but he always made sure to eat anything you prepared for him.
You headed out the door, michael always tried getting you a personal driver, but you always refused, claiming that just because you were dating a famous person doesn't mean you need to turn your whole life around, so instead of forcing you he just always told you to drive safely. You got inside your car, powering it on and driving off.
You ended up at the salon 30 minutes later. The energy inside the salon was electricâa warm mix of buzzing clippers, the sweet scent of coconut oil and heat protectant, and lively laughter bouncing off the wall. You sat in the plush leather chair, staring at yourself in the arching mirror as your stylist, marcus, draped the black salon cape over your shoulders and snapped it tightly behind your neck.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Marcus asked, fluffing out your hair with his fingers as he looked at your reflection. "Because once these shears close, there's no turning back."
"I'm positive," you smiled, taking a deep breath. "Do it."
What followed was a mesmerizing, almost therapeutic transformation. The sound of the sharp shears crunching through the length of your hair was surreal at first. With every snip, heavy locks dropped onto the black cape and tumbled down to the floor, leaving you feeling lighter by the second.
Then came the shampoo bowl. The warm water cascaded over your scalp, and the soothing pressure of fingertips massaging a rich, lathering shampoo into your fresh length made you close your eyes and sigh softly. After a deep conditioning treatment, Marcus sat you back in the chair to begin the delicate work.
He moved with precision, sculpting the sides, carefully tapering the nape of your neck, and using tiny curling irons to shape soft, velvety S-waves and tight, bouncy ringlets across the top. He laid down your edges with smooth, sweeping swirls, making sure every single detail framed your features perfectly.
When he finally unclipped the cape and spun the chair around, you gasped. The shortcut popped your cheekbones, drew all the attention to your dark bambi eyes, and elongated your neck in a way that looked effortlessly royal. You looked sleek, sultry, and stunning bold.
"I look....I look beautiful," you half whispered, looking at yourself in the mirror smiling.
You thanked marcus, "Thank you so so much," you said, looking inside your purse, pulling out a hundred dollar bill, handing it to him with a huge smile on your face. "I'll definitely be coming back for touch-ups." You smiled and walked out the salon heading towards your car, you got inside your car, "hopefully he likes it," you murmured to yourself, pulling off driving away.
By the time you walked back through the front door of the house that evening, the sun was sinking low, casting a warm, golden sunset glow through the tall floor to ceiling windows.
You felt completely transformed. Dressed in a crisp, white two-piece set, a cropped collard top and a fitted mini skirt that hugged every curve. You were practically glowing. You dropped your keys onto the entryway console, the metal clicking softly against the marble.
"Baby?" You called out, checking your lips gloss in the foyer mirror one last time.
Heavy, fast footsteps echoed down the hallway, and michael rounded the corner with a sweet, affectionate smile already forming on his face. "There's my girlâ"
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Michael frozen right under the archway, his dark eyes widening so fast, made a breathy laugh escape your throat. His gaze swept from the top of your fresh, dark curls, down the curve of your body in the crisp white outfit, and snapped right back up to your face. For three full seconds, the world's biggest superstar was completely struck speechless.
"Michael?" You teased, sliding one hand onto your hip and tilting your head. "You alright over there?"
That broke his trance. A low, breathless chuckle escaped him as he closed the distance between you in two long strides, his eyes completely locked onto yours.
"Oh, wow," he breathed out, his hands coming up instantly to hover inches away from your head, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. "Mama....look at you. Look at you!"
"You like it?" You asked shyly.
"Like it?" His voice dropped into a deep, rich register, a massive brilliant smile breaking across his face. "Baby, you look unbelievable. I mean...absolutely breathtaking."
He didn't wait another second. His hands gently slid up to frame your face, his long, delicate fingers lightly pressing into your cheeks as his eyes eagerly devoured each inch of your new look. The cut exposed the soft curve of your throat, making you look ridiculously delicate and striking all at once. He leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against yours, taking his time, tasting your gloss, and humming softly against your mouth with pure delight.
When he finally pulled back just a fraction, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
"You cut it all," he whispered, utterly fascinated. His hands slid back, his fingertips gently twirling through one of the soft, springy curls right at your temple. "It feels like velvet, mama. Look at these curls..."
âHe stepped back just enough to scan you up and down again, a slow, playful smirk curling the corner of his lips.
â"Wait a minute," Michael murmured, biting his lip as his fingers drifted up to toy with his own shoulder-length, dark tendrils. "Are you trying to match me? Is that what this is? We're twins now?"
â"Please," you laughed, pressing your palms against his chest. "I wore it better and you know it."
â"Oh, really?" Michael wrapped both arms firmly around your waist, tugging your hips completely flush against his. He lowered his head, trailing a row of soft, warm kisses along your jawline, working his way down to the sensitive skin of your newly exposed neck. "You're dynamic, baby. Dangerous. I can't even take my eyes off you."
âYou tilted your head back with a soft sigh, your fingers sliding up his chest and tangling around his neck, pulling him closer. "I wanted a change. I felt like a completely new woman the second I got out of that chair."
â"Well, this new woman is driving me crazy," he whispered against your collarbone, placing one final, lingering kiss right at the dip of your neck before looking up into your eyes. His dark eyes were soft, completely enamored, filled with that effortless, helpless devotion he reserved only for you.
âHe cupped the back of your head with gentle careâcareful not to mess up a single curlâand pulled you into another deep, sweet kiss that made your toes curl inside your heels.
â"Come on," Michael whispered against your lips, a wicked, teasing grin breaking across his face as he grabbed your hand and laced his fingers tightly through yours. "You have to walk down the hallway again. I need to watch you walk in that white skirt. Do it for your boyfriend."
âYou giggled, letting him pull you tight against his side as you walked through the house together, his arm locked securely around your waist, refusing to let you go.
a/n: This is just a lil sum sum for now. wanna feed my babies with a lil something for now, and I've got a gooooooood fic dropping soon. It's either liberian girl x michael or a special request. Enjoy babies xoxoooo ;)
And the thought of you giving someone else even a portion of what he got from you made him sick to his stomach with jealousy and fear."
SYNOPSIS: Michael is selfish and doesn't wanna share reader with anyoneâ including the personal tutor he hired for her.
CONTENT: fluff, a little angst, smut, 18+, overstimulation, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink? if you squint?, hair pulling, era 1990, dangerous era!Michael, yearning Michael, very descriptive dirty talk, ITS NASTY Y'ALL
Song Inspo: Nobody x Keith Sweat ft Athena Cage
Author's Note: Sorry y'all I was supposed to upload last night but I fell asleep 𫣠this fic was a little inspired by my bby @1andonlytashae who wrote a angst/hurt no comfort story that was soooo good. You can read it here
Los Angeles was in its rainy season and there had been a constant downpour for the past three days. The storm made everything look soft, gray, and endless.
And it was during this time that Michael hired Alejandro. He had found the man himselfâ a soft-spoken instructor that taught Spanish to beginner students. Alejandro had excellent reviews and a calm demeanor that Michael thought would be perfect for you.Â
The Latin American leg of the tour was coming up, and soon youâd be in a different city every few days. Michael had looked at you one night while you were curled up against him and asked quietly,
âI want you to come with me this time. Experience all of it. But I donât want you feelinâ lost when we go places where no one speaks English. Let me find you somebody good who can help?â
Flattered was the best way to express how you felt in the moment. It was an indicator that things were getting more serious between the two of you. Michael had never asked any woman to accompany him on tour before.Â
He understood that his life came with a lot. Whoever his person was would have to sacrifice the simplicity of their everyday life in exchange for being with him. You had shown him you could handle it, and for that he was more grateful than you understood.
Youâd simply smiled and told him he didnât have to do that, but he brushed your hair away from your face like he always did and insisted.
âI wanna do it. I never want my life to make yours smaller.â
Michael didnât want you to feel confined in the way he did when he was on the road. So, he figured if you could get some conversational Spanish under your belt, youâd be able to visit shops, museums, and whatever else interested you without feeling like an outsider.
So naturally, Alejandro started coming over three times a week to give you private one on one lessons. You were easily embarrassed and wanted to have the privacy to learn in peace.
Everything was fine at first. During your lessons, Michael would sit quietly at the kitchen island sipping his tea. He never interrupted. Just watched you practice and admired the focused little frown that settled over your features when you struggled with getting a new phrase right.Â
Every time you mastered something new, your face would light up. A soft, warm laugh would spill out. Michael would smile to himself quietly and proudly. Heâd think about how lucky he was that this beautiful woman with her soft voice and eclectic personality had chosen him.
To say Michael was obsessed with you would be an understatement. He was infatuated with you in a quiet consuming way that frightened him at times.
He loved the way your body felt in his hands. How it felt pressed against him late at night. Your skin was always soft and warm. He loved the little sounds you would make when he kissed the back of your neck while you were busy doing something.Â
He especially loved how your voice would drop into a familiar cadence when you were talking to your mama or family on the phone. The same rhythm and vernacular he had grown up hearing around his family.
Heâd watch your mouth when you spoke to him. Often, heâd lose track of the actual words you were saying to him because he was too busy staring at the shape of your lips and thinking about how pretty they were. He would end up kissing you in place of a response, soft and lingering.Â
And, he had already started looking for the perfect ring.Â
One night while you were sleeping, Michael took it upon himself to size your ring finger. Luckily for him, you were a pretty heavy sleeper.
On the rare occasion that he had free time in his day, Michael found himself meeting with private jewelers and perusing options heâd picked out just for you.Â
He still wasnât satisfied yet. The ring needed to be perfect, something youâd be proud to show off to your girlfriends and family. He imagined the way your face would look when he finally asked. Everything had to be right and the timing had to be perfect.Â
He wanted you to feel safe and chosen. So, everything was great, until it wasnât.Â
Things changed the day that Alejandro started staying longer than scheduled. It started with small, harmless things.
Michael passed the room he set up for your lessons one day and overheard Alejandro offering to take you to some hole in the wall place to try authentic arepas.Â
Involuntarily, his steps slowed down as he ear hustled to see what your response would be. You politely declined and Michael let out a deep breath he hadnât realized heâd been holding in.
And from that day on, Michael was on Alejandro's ass. He noticed everything.Â
The way heâd correct your accent by gently touching your chin so he could watch your mouth form the words correctly. How heâd linger just a little too long after the lesson was over, talking about music or places heâd lived.Â
Or the one that made Michael clench his jaw so hard it hurtâ complimenting how beautiful your laugh was after you finally got a tough phrase right.
That was when he started closing his studio door more often.Â
Physically Michael was there, mentally? He was somewhere else.Â
He started answering your questions with polite staccato answers instead of the long drawn-out conversations you used to have. After that it was the kisses. The long, lingering kisses heâd leave on your lips turned into gentle forehead kisses.Â
And most painfully for you, his constant obsessive touching stopped. No more pulling you into his lap the second you walked past him or hands finding your waist or the back of your neck absentmindedly during the day.
The distance was startling to you, but you just assumed he was really focused on work. Michael had a habit of immersing himself in his craft to the point that heâd forget to eat and sleep.
It was a Thursday when you looked over at the clock and realized Alejandro had stayed nearly an hour past the session end time. You were in the middle of laughing about something he said about a difficult conjugation when you looked up and caught Michael standing in the hallway.Â
His arms were crossed and he was watching with a completely blank expression. Wordlessly, he had turned and entered his studio, closing the door softly behind him.Â
That night, he barely spoke to you. It was extremely abnormal.Â
Usually, Michael talked your ear off to the point where you had to escape to the den for quiet time to read your book, or to watch t.v.. You loved the man dearly, but when that mouth started goinâ it didnât stop.
He cooked in silence that night. Left a plate for you wrapped in foil on top of the stove, and disappeared back into his studio till nearly 3am. And when he did finally come to bed, he stayed on his side with his back turned to you. Michael usually held you so close to him during the night that you had to separate from him in his sleep because youâd wake up sweating like heâd been trying to fuse the two of you together.
That was when you started to think, maybe it wasnât just workâŚ
So, you tried to talk to him the next morning. He was sitting at the island and reading the dayâs paper. As you walked behind him you trailed your fingertips gently across his shoulder blades. The touch sent chills down his spineâ like it always did when you touched him. Still, his eyes stayed on the paper.
âMorning, mamaâ he said simply. He didnât turn to kiss you and he didnât trail his gaze over your face slowly, taking you in the way he usually did like he hadnât seen you in forever.
âMikey, are you okay baby?â Your fingers had trailed up to massage his earlobe before drifting to twirl one of his curls. He allowed the touch and leaned into it slightly.Â
âIâm fine.â He murmured, sipping his tea.
âYouâve been super distant. Tell me somethinâ.â Your gaze stayed on him and he was quiet for a moment.
âJust been workinâ, thatâs all.â
âMichaelâ your tone held a warning.
He finally met your eyes and immediately you noticed the ghost of something sad in them.Â
âJust⌠focus on your lessons baby. Tourâs coming and I want you to be ready.â Then he'd folded his newspaper and left the room quietly.
You stared at him a moment longer as he walked away. Really, you werenât ready to let the subject die. But you left it alone anyway, and the fear that something else was going on only grew larger.
This wasnât like him at all. Nothing about Michael Jackson was nonchalant, he was not a man who did distant.Â
Especially not with you.
He would pause a conversation just to pull your closer and press his face into your neck like the smell of you was keeping him breathing. Sometimes heâd interrupt his own sentences just to tell you your skin was glowing in the warm morning light. He got quiet and shy when heâd talk about how much he yearned to marry you someday soon. And he meant sooner than you knew.
That was why when he began pulling away you knew in your gut something was off.
You just didnât realize it was your growing rapport with Alejandro. Andâ that Michael was watching so closely.
Every afternoon when Alejandro came over, Michael would intentionally leave his studio door cracked. He hated it, but sometimes heâd stand in the hallway out of sight with his heart in his throat listening to how easily the two of you carried on conversation. How Alejandro's voice would go all soft when heâd correct you. Which ironically, was one of the reasons Michael had picked him for you. Now he was kicking himself.
He heard the way youâd laugh with your whole belly when Alejandro would make a joke Michael thought was corny. And he heard the way Alejandro said your name like it tasted good in his mouth.
Every single time, something dark and helpless wound tighter in Michaelâs chest.
He never said anything to Alejandro despite these feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. He realized how silly it would look for him to do that when he had hired the man and invited him into his home specifically for you.Â
Deep down, Michael knew the man was just doing his job. A tutor should be friendly and encouragingâ but Alejandro was just a little too charming.
This knowledge brought Michael no comfort. The truth was simple and brutal:
Michael felt like everybody wanted his woman. And the thought of you giving someone else even a portion of what he got from you made him sick to his stomach with jealousy and fear.
He loved the way you cooked for him, and how the whole house would smell like garlic and onions and whatever seasoning blend youâd chosen. Youâd taste something off the spoon and always hold it out for him, saying âTaste it baby, lemme know how it tastesâ. Heâd brush his lips over your fingers, murmuring how delicious it was.
Any time youâd press a small hand against his chest when you passed him in the hallway his heart would flutter underneath it. The way you smoothed his clothing or played with his hair gave him chills every time.
He loved to brush curls way from your face when you were focused on somethingâ and how youâd scrunch your nose and bat his hand away, mumbling âBoy leave my hair aloneâ even though you never actually stopped him.
Every intimate part of your life together started to feel threatened when Alejandro walked through the door, and Michael was in agony.
When he stood in the hallway listening to you two talking he felt like his heart was being slowly crushed in a fist. Heâd go back to his studio, attempting to do anything close to working. But heâd end up staring at the same few bars of music for an hour while his mind endlessly replayed how Alejandro's hand had brushed the small of your back when he helped you find the right page in your textbook.
He started coming to bed late intentionally on the days you had lessons so he wouldnât have to face the soft worried look you kept giving him.Â
And every night, heâd lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to your breathing and think:
Sheâs mine. Sheâs mine. Sheâs mine. Please be only mine.
The last straw was on a Friday.Â
Alejandro had just finished up for the day, and he was packing his bag when he casually said, âThereâs a little place in east LA that does the best chiles rellenos this time of year. Private, quiet. I could take you tomorrow after we finish. Help you practice ordering in Spanish. Real conversation.â
Before he had finished the invitation you were already shaking your head politely.Â
âThanks Alejandro, but Michael and I have plans.â
Alejandro's smile remained, but his eyes flicked to the hallway.Â
âHe works a lot huh? Pretty lady like you deserves to get out sometimes.âÂ
You had laughed it off thinking the comment was just friendly. Unbeknownst to you, Michael heard every word from the doorway of his studio.
Something in him snapped.
He waited in his studio, swiveling back and forth in his office chair and tapping his foot impatiently. He waited until the front door closed and the sound of the manâs engine faded into the distance. Then he stood up so fast the chair squeaked and rocked backwards.
He went straight to the kitchen where you were still standing by the table putting away your study materials.Â
When you looked up the smile on your face died immediately as you took in the expression on Michaelâs face.
âWhatâs up? Why you lookinâ at me like that?â Concerned, you stepped around the island and came closer to him. Rain was streaking the window behind him and he was rubbing a hand over his face.
âBaby, you donât see how he looks at you?â He sighed, finally speaking his mind. For a moment you just looked at him and blinked. You were totally lost.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âAlejandroâ the name came out like it hurt to say. âThe way heâs leaning in too close when you talk. Him watching your mouth when you talk. The dinner invitations. And now, âPretty lady like you should get out sometimeâ? You makinâ me crazy on purpose? Did I do something wrong?â
His eyes were glassy and a little wild.
Your stomach dropped. So thatâs whatâs going on.Â
âBaby no⌠itâs just lessons. Iâm getting ready for tour like we talked about. Thatâs all.â
Michaelâs hands flexed at his sides like he didnât know what to do with them. Usually, he reached for you when he was scared or uncertain. He looked away shaking his head as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he thought about what to say next.Â
âYou know how I feel about you.â His voice was softer than he intended when it came out. âYou know what you are to me...And I have to sit in the next room listening to him tryna get closer to you every day like I donât exist. Like what we have donât mean nothin⌠like he could just take you.â
You stepped toward him carefully and placed your palms on his chest in an attempt to ground him.
âI only want you, Michael. You know that. Thereâs nobody else. Never has been.â
He stared at you for a long second, heart thumping behind his ribs under your palms. His voice cracked when he spoke again, almost like he was pleading,
âYouâre so special and I wake up every day terrified somebodyâs gonna see that and try to take you from me. I canât breathe right when heâs in your face like that. I canât think when he touches you like that. I keep imagining you laughinâ with him how we laugh⌠and it feels like my chest is caving in.â
Your heart swelled at the raw honesty in his tone.
âI need you,â He said, eyes shiny. âNeed you so bad it scares me. Youâre the only thing that feels real to me. Only person who makes the noise in my head go quiet. And the thought of losinâ youââ he shut his eyes tightly. âSomebody else touching you⌠it makes me sick. Please. Prove it to me. Prove youâre still mine.â
He looked a little embarrassed at how desperate he sounded but he didnât take it back. He just stood there in the dim lighting, hands trembling slightly at his sides, waiting for you to save him from the fear that had been eating him up for weeks now. You didnât hesitate.
âOkay. Anything.â
His heart skipped a beat at the way you said it. He gently closed his fingers over one of the hands pressed against his chest and turned to lead you to your shared bedroom.Â
Once you were inside, Michael turned to you with dark, hungry eyes.
âStrip for me, baby.â
Immediately, you obeyed. Slowly, you shed every piece of clothing until you were totally bare in front of him. The cold breeze flowing through the cracked window kissed your skin and made your nipples pebble. His gaze raked over your body greedily, like he was memorizing every curve and beauty mark.
He didnât remove any of his clothing. His sweater and jeans remained. His eyes watched you like something he wanted to both ruin and protect all at once.Â
Slowly, he walked toward you till he was close enough for his breath to ghost over your lips. You breathing hitched as you looked from his lips to his eyes and back again.
A soft sound came from your throat when he didnât kiss you. Instead, he grazed his fingers over your belly and said, âLay back for me, pretty.â He guided you backwards onto the bed so you were flat on your back and settled beside you, one knee bent as he rested on his side.
His fingers trailed along the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The first touch of his fingers against your sex made you inhale sharply.Â
He traced through your folds, testing how wet you were already. His middle finger came up to gently circle your clit. When you moaned softly, his eyes flicked up to your face, drinking in every little expression.
Then, he pressed two fingers inside you slow and deep. Immediately his fingers found that soft, spongy spot and curled against it. At the same time, his thumb began circling your clit again in gentle circles.
The dual sensation had your thighs quaking already. The stretch of his long fingers and the precise pressure against that tender spot deep inside you made your hips twitch helplessly. Heat spread through your abdomen in slow, heavy waves. Each stroke sending a sharp pulse to your core.
âLook at you,â He murmured, eyes still trained on you. âAlready so wet for me and I barely touched you. Been walkinâ around with that tutor, lettinâ him look at you like that⌠makinâ me crazy. Now this pussyâs creaming and clenchinâ on my fingers the second I put my fingers in it.â
You whimpered and your hips rolled toward his hand. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your hands reached for him and you tried to pull him down to kiss you, but he only hovered. Lips brushing yours but never quite giving you the real thing while his fingers kept stroking you.
âNot yet, babyâ He whispered against your lips. âYou been makinâ me feel like I was losinâ you. Now, youâre gonna feel how scared Iâve been.â
He fingers worked you open with slow precision. The first orgasm built deep and heavy in your core until it finally broke. Your back arched into him hard, and a soft cracked moan slipped out of you as your walls fluttered around his fingers. He didnât stop when your thighs started shaking.
âThatâs one, gimme another. Show me who this pussy belongs to.â
The second orgasm took longer and was more intense. Your face contorted from the overwhelming sensation between your legs and your eyes fluttered helplessly. His fingers kept simultaneously stimulating the soft ridge of nerves inside you and your clit, and it was making you see stars.Â
Your arousal dripped down Michaelâs wrist when it hit and your whole body felt oversensitive.Â
The second he pulled his fingers away and sucked them into his mouth, you were on him. You sat up fast and yanked at his sweater with desperate hands. You were so needy it was almost feral. Now empty and aching to be filled by him. Michael gasped and let out a soft surprised laugh.
âOh baby, look at you. So needy you canât even wait, huh?â He helped you just enough, allowing you to shove his sweater up and over his head. Then came his jeans and boxers, far enough that his dick sprang free, thick and hard, leaking pre-cum.
Michaelâs heart flipped when he observed the hungry yearning look you gave him as you admired him.Â
âCâmere babyâ he murmured. He sat back against the headboard with his legs spread and pulled you into his lap. He bit down on his bottom lip as he watched you straddle him and slowly sink down on him, inch by inch.Â
He let out a shaky moan and his head tilted back when he was finally buried to the hilt. The fullness made your breath catch in your throat.
The whole time your eyes stayed locked on his. His lips were already swollen from the way youâd been kissing and biting them. His mouth kept falling open with soft whimpers and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.
You stayed there for a second, just feeling him stretch you completely. Once you adjusted to his size, you began rocking your hips in slow circles while keeping him completely inside you. With every movement, your breasts brushed his chest and your nipples dragged over his warm skin. Leaning in, you kissed him soft and messy while your hands cradled his face.
âI love you,â You whispered against his lips. The words were shaky from how full you felt. âI only want you baby. Youâre the only one who makes me feel like this⌠Iâm yoursâ
The combination of your soft voice and the skin-to-skin contact paired with the way you were rolling your hips against his made his eyes roll back. A long, broken whimper slipped from his lips and his head fell back against the headboard again in orgasmic bliss.
âYou feel so good baby.â He moaned high and shakily. âSo, so good. I can feel you flutterinâ around me just right.âÂ
You kept going, slow and deliberate while whispering soft reassurances to him. How no one else could ever make you feel this full, this loved. Every roll of your hips brushed your clit against him and sent a heavy pulse of pleasure through your core. The obscene sounds of you creaming on him filled the room, and his hands gripped your hips like he was trying to anchor himself.
The slow, deep grind pushed him over the edge with a cracked surprised moan, and he started pulsing hard inside you. You felt every spurtâ the sudden heat, and the way he filled you until you were dripping down his balls. With every continued roll of your hips, it smeared between you. The sensation of being so full of him made your walls twitch around him.
Michael only gave himself a few seconds to recover, then he moved. He flipped you onto your back so fast it knocked the wind out of you. Then your thighs were pushed up until they almost touched your chest.Â
He teased you, dragging the head of his cock against you and nudging your clit just to hear you whimper. His eyes trailed over your blissed out features adoringly. Leaning in, he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as he sunk into you with one, smooth motion. Your mouth fell open and he kissed you through it.
When he pulled away, his chain dangled in your face and he exhaled shakily. You breathed in his scent as your lips brushed his collar bone. Then, you took his chain between your teeth.
He looked down at you and a lovesick smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
âYouâre so perfect, babyâ He murmured as he continued to rock his hips deep into you, barely pulling out at all in between strokes. He was fully feral now. He kissed you all over your face, cheeks, eyelids, and your nose. Then he licked the drool from the corner of your mouth before claiming your lips again in a messy kiss.Â
Every time the thick head of his dick dragged over the swollen bundle of nerves inside you, your walls pulsed and he moaned into your mouth like he could feel it too. Pleasure built in slow waves and your eyes rolled back from the sensation.
âYou feel that, baby? How you keep flutterinâ around the head of my dick every time I grind into that little spot.â He kissed you again as you whimpered. âSo sensitive and perfect for meâ. He kept massaging the head into the soft spongy tissue with every roll of his hips. The next orgasm built under the relentless pressure, and you cried out when you came hard, legs shaking in the air.
He didnât stop.
âIâm sorry, princessâ he said softly, still grinding and kissing you. âI know itâs too much and youâre sensitive, but I need you so bad. Let me feel it baby. Cum on my dick again so I know youâre mine. Only mineâ
Involuntarily your next orgasm came not long after. Your face was wrecked with bliss and your saliva-slicked lips kept parting with broken moans as he kept abusing the small bundle of nerves. The pleasure was tipping into overstimulation, and your thighs were quaking as your core convulsed.
âLook at you,â He cooed in a lovesick tone. âCanât stop cumminâ for me, can you baby? All I gotta do is let the head of my dick kiss that lil tender spot and you fall apart for me every time. So pretty like this, mama. Creaminâ all over me like a good girl.â
He kept you like that until you were shaking and tears slipped down your temples from the overstimulation. Then, he pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach and shoved a pillow under your hips. Your face was turned toward the mirror across from the bed.
In one deep thrust, he sank back inside you and started grinding again. The new angle let you watch everything.
Then he did something that made you short-circuit.
Michael planted one foot on the bed with a bent knee to give himself leverage to dig even deeper. The pressure was intense and you could feel him in your stomach. All the while, his eyes stayed locked on yours in the mirror. Every time your eyes started to flutter shut, he gently gathered a handful of your hair and tugged just enough to keep your gaze on the reflection.
âLook how pretty you look gettinâ fucked like this baby. Donât look away. Want you to watch this pretty face while you cum for me. Watch how good youâre takinâ meâ
At this point, everything falling from your lips was nonsensical as you tried to gather your thoughts. The vulnerability of watching yourself made everything that much more intense. You could see your expression, eyes half lidded, mouth open and drooling while he fucked you deep and steady.Â
Every time your eyes threatened to close, he gave your hair another gentle tug to force you to see exactly what he was doing to you. Your next orgasm hit while you were staring at yourself. It felt so good it almost hurt. Your walls continued to clamp around him in weak overstimulated pulses. Tears continued to drip down your cheeks as you watched the mess you two were making in the mirror.Â
Sweat glistened on Michaelâs abdomen, and you moaned as beads began to drip down his chest, his cum and your arousal smeared everywhere.
âI should keep you like this all day,â he groaned as he kept grinding deep. âPinned and stuffed full like this, strokinâ that little spot âtill your eyes roll back. I could keep this pretty pussy cumminâ for me until you canât even remember your own name. Would you like that, baby?â
The only thing you could do was sob and nod in agreement as another orgasm built in your already spent body. Michaelâs orgasm was long and drawn out. His lips parted and an orgasmic expression spread across his features as he stared at you in the mirror. He slowed his strokes down more to keep abusing that spot inside you, deep and intentional.
One hand came down in a smack on your ass that was hard enough to sting. A broken moan spilled from his lips as he continued stroking.
âI love you. Fuckâ I love you baby, so muchâ he gasped.
Suddenly, the depth and pressure was too much and your lower belly tightened sharply. Your hands weakly attempted to push back against his stomach from the intensity.Â
But Michael didnât let you. He grabbed both your wrists in one big hand and pinned them firmly behind your back, holding you open and helpless as he kept grinding deep. Your body was completely at his mercy, and it made everything feel so much more intense.
âStop runninâ from me. You know you want me to keep makinâ you cream like this. Ain't that right, baby?â
âY-yes Michael. P-pleaseâ His features lit up as you started to beg. He smirked at you in the mirror and said,Â
âPlease what, baby? Please donât stop makinâ this pussy cum?â His lips brushed against your ear as he stared at you in the mirror. Then, he nudged that sensitive bundle of nerves once more, and the pressure broke.
You squirted hard around him in a messy uncontrollable gush that soaked the both of you. Your walls pulsed violently and you swore you saw stars as you let out a high pitched whine.
The second you started squirting, Michael buried himself all the way to the hilt and pressed his hips flush against you so that he was pressed gently against your cervix.
He held himself there, as deep as your body would take him and moaned âGood girl, babyâ. His voice was thick with lust as he admired your reflection.
âDoinâ so good for me⌠squirtinâ all over me while Iâm in your stomach, walls jumpinâ like youâre tryna milk me⌠you love me baby? Love gettin' your pussy ruined like this?â
You tried and failed to respond, only managing to stutter out broken âI love youâsâ. The sensation of you cumming around him was so intense it dragged another orgasm out of him.Â
Michaelâs mouth fell open and he moaned high and shakily as your pussy milked another load from his oversensitive dick. Hot spurts flooded you while he stayed buried.
âFuck babyâ youâre milkinâ me so goodâ shitâ he whimpered, hips twitching helplessly as you kept pulsing around him, dragging out every last drop until he was shaking and overstimulated right along with you.
He stayed deep inside you afterward. You both were trembling and filthy and completely spent. The rain kept falling outside. His lips found the side of your neck and kissed softly.
âI love you, Iâm so sorry. I just got so scared. I⌠I canât lose you. Youâre everything to me. I canât help it.â he whispered with a hoarse tone.
You reached back as much as his grip would allow and found his fingers, lacing them with yours. Your body was still pulsing with little aftershocks and you were still sensitive, but the emotional weight of his words filled your chest with warmth.
âYouâre not gonna lose me,â you whispered back. âIâm right here. Always.â
He gently adjusted so that he was spooning your shaking frame. He held you tighter, still inside you and still shaking a little from how bad he needed this.
For a long time neither of you moved, just breathing together while the rain continued to fall.
You were his. And he was never going to let you forget it.
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
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Everything posted here is written by @brownsugarletters. Please do not repost, copy, translate, claim as your own, upload to AI tools, or share my writing outside of Tumblr without permission.
I put a lot of care into these stories, so please keep them here and respect my space.
is this a safe space to admit that when theres no new fics for me to read i have nothing else to do with my life.. at all
iâm manifesting everyone with writers block to be able to snap out of it and feed the people,, you guys are the backbone of tumblr we canât do this without you đ
