this is like one of my fav vids of michael.. because of his SMILE (he looks so happy), his VOICE (the rasp🫦), his HEIGHT (those long ass legs ommgg), his OUTFIT (esp those gold pants hollyy fuck), his HAIR, the way he’s even swinging his arm on time. literally just him. JUST HIM. EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM. I NEED HIMMMMMMMMMMM.
(just realised his voice wasn’t raspy.. he had laryngitis..💔)
bad!michael that makes you say affirmations in the mirror... while he fucks you
── .✦
the bedroom was swallowed in dim golden light, the air thick around you. michael had you positioned right in front of the full-length mirror next to the bed, your hands pressed flat against the glass just to keep your feet under you.
his forehead rested against your shoulder blade, his chest working hard against your back. every time he pulled back and drove deep into you, his moans slipped from between his lips — so gentle on the surface, but rough with the way he was working his hips.
"look up, baby," he mumbled against your neck. his voice was so soft, but it left zero room to disobey. "look at how pretty y'are f'me."
his hands were large on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin to hold you still as he snapped forward again, grinding so deep into your sweet spot that your vision went spotty. you let out a high, broken noise, your palms slipping against the glass.
"tell me," he whispered, his lips trailing hot up to your earlobe. he hitched your thigh up higher over his hip, burying himself to the hilt and holding you pinned right there. "say 'i'm pretty.'"
"michael, please—"
"shh, no," he soft-talked, his thumb rubbing over your hip bone even as his lower body stayed relentless, setting a rhythm that had you trembling from the inside out. "c'mon baby, y'gotta say it. tell the mirror."
"i'm... i'm pretty," you choked out, watching his eyes track your flushed face in the reflection.
"yeah y'are. you're so pretty," he hummed. he tugged gently at your hair, tipping your head back until your eyes locked onto his in the glass.
you looked wrecked — chest heaving, skin slick, hair sticking to your forehead, your lips were swollen and parted.
"now say 'i'm beautiful.'"
"i-i'm beautiful," you sobbed, arching back into him as his hand slipped down between your legs, fingers finding your clit and circling it until your legs shook.
"that's right. an' what else?" he commanded softly, driving into you hard enough to make your knees buckle, his voice dripping with sweetness. "say 'i deserve this.'"
“michael, please. enough,” you whined, your face flushed from the words he was making you say.
you tried to turn your head, desperate to break contact with your reflection, but his hand came up instantly, fingers gently gripping your chin keep it in place.
“c’mon, sweet girl. you're doin' such a good job f'me, jus’ one more time."
"i deserve this," you cried out.
"yeah, y'do," he muttered against your jaw, his breath ragged as he pounded into you, his eyes glued on the mirror. y'deserve feelin' so good, don't you? deserve the way i'm makin' y'feel."
you nodded frantically, choking on a sob as he kept hitting that exact spot. "yes—yes—"
"y'deserve my cum too, don't you? tell me y'want it."
"yes, yes, i want it," you sobbed, your thighs shaking, almost giving out on you if it wasn't for him holding you up. "i want you to fill me up, michael, please—"
"good girl," he rasped, smiling behind you. "listening so good f'me... 'm gonna give y'whatever y'want."
and that he did.
with one last snap of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt, groaning your name into the crook of your neck as he flooded you, his dick pulsing and spurting deep inside you until you could literally feel it overflowing, trickling warm down the inside of your thighs.
inspired by a tiktok i saw this but i lost it</3
if yk what im talking abt or have seen it pls send the link
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 weren’t even big on casual dating to begin with, but your friends had spent three weeks nagging you about this guy you’d met at a party — insisting he was sweet, handsome, and totally your type.
he wasn’t.
the date was a complete disaster from start to finish. you would’ve 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 he’d 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.
can u come get me?
his reply came back almost immediately.
send me the address. i’m on my way.
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 — every secret, every insecurity, every terrible decision — 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.
a few minutes later, his car pulled up to the curb.
jaafar’s eyes swept over you as you walked to his passenger door. you were wearing a short white sundress — tight at the waist, flowy at the bottom, with a low scoop at the neck. a bit too low, maybe. not that he should be noticing that anyway.
by the time he put the car in park and rolled the windows down — engine idling, radio low — you were right there, resting your arms on the edge of the driver’s 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, he thought, but the same old proximity. you never had much of a sense of personal space with him. though he never complained.
he didn’t 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. somehow, even looking at your face felt indulgent.
you were done up. you took time and care getting ready, and now you were looking down at him through heavy lashes, your lips — shiny with gloss — curving into a smile.
he wondered how someone could’ve fucked up a date with you.
“are you the uber i ordered?” you grinned.
“oh you think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“one of us has to be the funny one.”
he smiled at you as he scanned your expression.
you were also smiling, but then again, you always were. you were good at faking it, but he was attentive enough to tell the difference.
“how’s my comedian doing?” he asked. “you okay?”
you let out a dramatic sigh. “i’m fine. it’s not a big deal.”
“but you made me come pick you up. that sounds like a big deal.”
there was a moment of heavy silence, and then you let your smile relax.
“if i’m being honest, i’m better now that you’re here. so thank you.” you said.
“you don’t have to thank me,” 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 “so what do you want to do?” he asked. “go somewhere? take you home?
you chewed your lip. “sure, you can take me home, if that’s easier.”
maybe if he didn’t know you so well, he wouldn't have noticed the tiny shift in your expression. he knew you didn't mind going back home with him to do nothing in particular, but then he took another look at you — all done up in that dress.
"actually,” he corrected. “why don't we go somewhere?"
"yeah?" you smiled.
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.
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 — 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.
“sorry,” he murmured. “i forgot to move it back for you.”
there was a high electronic whir as the seat inched forward, and jaafar meant to look up at you. but as he raised his gaze — 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 — his eyes caught on your thigh.
before he could think about what he was doing, he let his vision linger. he paused with his eyes right where your dress had ridden up, high, leaving the skin 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.
“i could’ve moved the seat myself, jaafar.” you laughed, oblivious ot his glance, and fortunately, to all the thoughts that were running wild in his head. “i know how to press a button.”
he was still reeling from that glance, barely even processing that he’d moved the seat forward 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. “y’know it is kinda nice, though. getting taken care of.”
taken care of.
you really shouldn’t have said that, because something was now flashing through his head that he absolutely shouldn’t be thinking about; laying you down, shoving your dress up, kneeling between your legs, your thighs shaking on his shoulders as his fingers grazed over your skin.
taking care of you.
treating you right, the way you should be.
your fingers tangled and tugging at his hair, his tongue on your—
“jaafar?” your eyes were locked on his. “hello? did you just zone out?”
he pulled back when he broke out of his daze.
“sorry,” he said quickly, “i was just thinking—” about things he shouldn’t have, looking at places he shouldn’t have. “—some things i have to do this week.”
horrible excuse, but it was the best he could do.
he shut the door.
“i think it’s nice that you always open doors for me. there are like… no gentlemen left.”
gentlemen? fuck.
he had to suppress a wince, his hands on the frame.
if he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t have been looking at you like that.
“opening doors is the bare minimum.”
“mm, well at least chivalry isn’t dead for one guy in this city.”
but what about the rest of them? 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 — why waste your energy on men who didn’t even care enough to see what was standing right in front of them?
it wasn't any of his business, though. just like it wasn't any of his business what you looked like under your dress. he crossed a line looking at you the way he did. he shouldn't have been imagining any of that.
just like he shouldn't have been sighing your name right then.
you looked up at him through the open window.
“you look really nice,” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”
you smiled. “you think so?”
“yeah.” of course he did. he’d always thought you were. but he didn't say it out loud, because he knew he shouldn't.
what he needed to do was shake off whatever the hell those fantasies were — where had they even come from? that was never the nature of your relationship, and it never would be.
you dont see him that way.
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 running through his mind.
pervert.
“thank you, j.”
“‘course.”
he walked over to the driver's side of the car, fighting the pull in his gut before sliding behind the wheel.
“where are we going?” you asked, fiddling with the ac to how you want it.
"where do you want to go?” 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; it remained untouched by time. standing so completely still, it felt like stepping back into an old memory, reliving some long-forgotten summer night without even realizing it.
there was a time when this turn-off belonged only to the two of you. it started years back, on a night you’d called him crying — a rare thing for you, since you weren't the type to shed tears easily. through soft sniffling, you’d told him you just wished you could get out for a bit, and within minutes, his car was idling 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. you’d told him to hurry up and drive before anyone noticed, begging 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, he’d pull up without a word and take you on the long 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 some shit 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. "jaafar—"
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 wasn’t 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.
turns out, he didn’t need to ask.
“what an asshole,” you muttered. “no way he expects a second date after that.”
jaafar let out an exhale. “he texted you?”
“yeah,” you sighed, holding the screen toward him. “he’s asking if i'm down for ‘round two.’ can you believe this guy?”
jaafar didn’t 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.
“he’s asking if im in bed?” you mused. “how much do you wanna bet he’s gonna ask for nudes after all that.”
you were laughing, and he had his jaw clenched.
“don’t text him back.” it came out a bit rougher than he would’ve liked.
“you’re giving me orders now?” you snorted. “what are you, my dad?”
jaafar sighed, his eyes closing. “sorry.”
he knew he was being too intense, but he didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight.
“is something bothering you, j?”
he inhales deeply. “i don’t know.” he said. “‘s just…”
he rolled his head on the headrest to meet your eyes. you looked at him, expectantly — 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 you—
but you were not his.
so jaafar chose his next words carefully.
“if you’re not getting what you deserve,” he said. “then drop him.”
he didn’t want to sound too harsh. “it’s up to you, but i just don’t like seeing you hurt. that’s all.”
your eyes softened. “i’m not texting him back.” you said. “wasn’t going to. he’s an asshole.”
he couldn’t help but feel relieved.
you watched as his fingers moved over his sweatpants. he had a habit of doing that.
he was gentle in everything he did — always had been, at least with you. he’d only ever treated you gently. but tonight felt different. he felt different.
you don’t know why you couldn’t stop looking at them. you couldn’t stop the feeling building in the pit of your stomach that intensified when you imagined him touching you with the same purpose.
you knew he’d be so good at it. jaafar was eager to please, eager to give — 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 — don't text him back. drop him — he’d always been protective of you — that wasn't anything new. but tonight, it felt different.
“what is it?” 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.
“can i admit something to you, jaafar?”
“anything,” he said smoothly.
“when i was younger, i used to think all guys would be a little like you. caring and… selfless.” you paused, huffing out a laugh. “but i found out most of them are the opposite.”
“what do you mean?”
“some guys are just selfish. and some only want you for one thing.”
he was quiet for a second.
“i shouldn’t have let you set the standard,” you murmured, a faint smile on your face. “you gave them way too much to live up to.”
set the standard?
jaafar glanced at you as thunder rolled above, but you were looking out through the windshield again, your face unreadable.
“there have to be some good guys out there,” he murmured softly. “they can’t all be bad.”
that made you laugh.
“oh, it’s all bad.” you turned back to face him, propping your chin on your hand. “i mean, i’ve 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.”
in bed?
jaafar felt his mouth go dry, another image surfacing in his head, but one that put a pit in his stomach — someone else’s hands on you.
his jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. “oh. really?”
god, he wasn’t any better than them. here he was, secretly fantasizing about you while you sat right beside him, trusting him with your heart.
“really,” you studied him with a curious look on your face. "you wanna know all the dirty details?”
he was torn — 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.
“we can talk it out.” he finally said.
“okay.”
and just like that, you were slouching forward over the console, leaning into his space just like old times — back when you’d bring him all the hot gossip from your friends. you trusted him implicitly, confiding in him the way you always had.
“jaafar…”
you pursed your lips, a subtle, conspiratorial smile playing on your mouth. for a second, the closeness of you was dizzying.
“... none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum.”
fuck.
“not one.”
there was a pressure in his chest, and he didn’t know what it was from. he didn’t even know what was suffocating him more — 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. he’d been dying to see what you looked like when you were undone, dying to be the one to give it to you.
“really?” he breathed out, his voice barely a murmur.
“really,” you said, a faint smile touching your lips. “i always have to take care of myself.”
he had to swallow hard to keep from sputtering out. god.
“maybe it’s because… you don’t really know them?” he muttered, looking away toward the window. a dry, awkward laugh escaped him. he didn’t even know what the fuck he was saying anymore. “like… you just met them?”
“what are you saying, j?” you asked, your tone dipping a bit critical. “i should go for someone i know instead?”
his heart dropped. he didn’t mean it like that. now he’d made it sound like he was putting his own name in the running, and he’d never do that.
“‘m not saying that.” his words were careful. “just… you deserve someone who treats you better well. better than that.”
but this time, you pushed.
“better? what does that look like to you?”
jaafar let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “what does it matter what it looks like to me?”
“because,” you scoffed. “i trust your judgement on guys. why are you being so shy with your opinion all of a sudden? you’ve never done that before.”
he was taken aback by the tone of your words. he didn’t get why you were digging so hard, why you wanted to know so badly.
what was better anyway? there was better, there was good enough, and then there was what you actually deserved — and in his mind, none of those were the same thing.
“at the bare minimum,” jaafar finally said. “someone who’d appreciate you. someone who appreciates your time, and doesn't pull bullshit like your date did tonight.”
“and what if i haven’t found that?” you murmured. “what if i can’t?”
“you will,” he said softly. “there are a lot of guys who’d jump at the chance to treat you right. because you’re—”
he cut himself off.
you were watching him so intently, clinging on to every word.
“because i’m what?”
there were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t.
he laughed humourlessly. “because you’re you,” —because you’re everything a person could want— “and you deserve someone who…”
he trailed off, trying to place the look on your face.
“go ahead,” you pushed. “you’re the expert right? you get to size up every guy who even looks at me. no one’s ever been good enough for you. aren’t you dying for the chance to tell me exactly who i need?”
he laughed, frustration rolling over him. what even was this? a conversation? an argument? a challenge?
“try me.”
his eyes scanned over your face. “you need a guy who’s good for you.” the words were in his voice, but they felt completely unfamiliar. “he should treat you right. be there when you need him. he should be attentive, show up for you, appreciate you. tell you how pretty you are. he should be taking care of you... meeting all your needs with no questions—or excuses—do you know how tired i am of hearing excuses? you need someone who’ll give you everything, because you deserve—”
"so someone like you?" you were staring at him, head titled. and he knew he fucked it all up. that was way too much; he was going to push you away.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured, running a hand over his mouth. “really, i don’t know what i’m...”
your expression melted. the rain beat on the roof of the car as you shook your head slowly.
“what are you apologizing for? caring?”
“i’m being overbearing,” he said, voice low.
you sighed softly, your eyes flickering all over his face. you leaned in closer.
"what if i did want someone like you?"
he froze in place, his breathing quickening.
“...you said i need someone who's good for me, right?” you said quietly. “someone who treats me right. someone who shows up for me, no excuses.”
you don't even remember how the distance between you guys shrunk, but he was so close now — too close to be respectful. his eyes were low and pretty.
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.
“‘m sorry i didn’t see it before, jaafar. i was looking for that person for so long. in so many places, and you were right in front of me the whole time.”
his head was spinning, skin tingling. was he dreaming?
“did i misread things?” you breathed, your lips almost touching. “do you not feel the same way?”
“please tell me you’re serious.” he sounded borderline desperate. but he didn’t care.
“i’m dead serious,” you whispered.
“i want you,” he started. “so much. in all the ways i shouldn’t, and it’s killing me.”
“you can have me in every way you want.”
he said your name, and it came out helpless.
instead of saying anything else, he pulled you forward, closing the gap.
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 little gasp into his mouth, and it made him dizzy.
“i want you. so bad.” your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. your voice was in his ears like a song, every one of your desires a new note as you reached over the console to his thigh.
he wasn’t expecting you to touch him. he was so hard already. he’d been hard for you—got hard for you so fast.
he was so sensitive to every movement of your hands on him.
“i need you” you breathed.
he pulled back, breathing hard. “are you sure? right here?”
“yes, ’m sure. i need you right now.”
he’d give you everything you need.
you deserve endless things. so many things that for a second he didn’t know where to start. but then you were moaning softly in his mouth, so responsive to his touch.
and all he could think about was that sweet little secret you told him:
none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum.
and so he ran his fingers up your thigh, long fingers snaking up your skin while his other elbow rested heavy on the console. you’d never seen him so needy — his hands seemed to grasp everywhere at once, his mouth hungry on yours as your tongues moved together. he gave your thigh a soft squeeze, a light touch, his hand lingering just long enough to claim one spot before drifting to the next.
his fingers moved higher and higher until he was playing with the lower hem of your dress.
you knotted your fingers into his hair — 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.
oh—
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.
"jaafar—" 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 — 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 should’ve guessed.
jaafar’s 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.
"’cause... it's embarrassing," you whispered, biting your lip.
“i’d look at you all day if you let me. never seen anything better.”
"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 — 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 — a little lacy set you’d 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, helping guide you back and forth over his cock 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 who’ll 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 bra
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, wouldn’t it?"
he wrapped one arm around your waist to steady you, resting his hand on your side — his fingers splaying wide over your skin, greedy — 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 — 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 right—" his fingers skimmed right to the hem of your panties.
"—'cause then..." he slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties, letting them linger there for a second 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.
"...it’s gonna feel so much better for you, baby." his fingers brushed over your slit — finally a real touch.
you shuddered. he was right. it did feel better.
you should’ve known he’d do it better. jaafar had always shown you how things should be done. after all these years, after everything, you should’ve known he’d be the only one to do it right.
he’d prepped you so much, worked your body just right; he had you dripping wet, and he’d barely even touched you. you’d 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, please—" you couldn’t remember a time you’d 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.
"c’mon, baby. you don’t have to beg me for a thing. jus’ tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you."
"keep going," you gasped.
"what you need..." he hummed, his voice soft. his eyes, half-obscured by heavy eyelids and dark lashes, settled on your face, watching intently as he used his fingers to smear his spit over your pussy. "what you need is someone who knows when you’re ready to take it."
and you were. as soon as he applied a little pressure to his fingers, working at the tight muscles of your entrance, your pussy opened for him, stretching around him for the very first time.
"someone who knows when you’re dying for it..." his voice was hazy and low. your head went foggy, dropping forward as he pushed into you. your noses brushed together, and he pushed deeper, the air muffled with your pleasured gasps. "...so they can give you exactly the relief you need."
"and when they finally sink into your pretty pussy..."
with his mouth against your jaw, he sank one finger all the way into you, slow and easy. then it was all the way inside, and you shuddered, clenching around him.
"...you’re already gonna be so worked up..."
you trembled, pulling at his hair as he pumped his finger slowly in and out of you, aching to be full of him, to take him deeper.
"...and you’ll be so wet already, so needy..."
you whimpered his name as he pulled it out, craving the stretch of him like nothing else.
"...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.
"...you’ll already be so close. won’t you, baby?"
he was right. you were so close, gasping “yes, yes,” dripping down his knuckles while that knot in your lower stomach tightened.
"but the most important thing," he slurred, your thick arousal dripping down his fingers, each movement filling the car with wet noises, "is that they’re 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-yeah—"
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.
“yeah? you want more?" he asked sweetly — 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 couldn’t 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 — you grabbed at his hair, pulled him into a kiss, and into your mouth
"you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t 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 — encouraging you as the tension snapped, letting you cum for the first time on fingers that weren’t 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 — squeezing your neck gently, rubbing your back, keeping you safe.
“was that okay?” 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.
“i don’t have a condom on me,” he said softly, his thumbs stroking your hips carefully. “i’m sorry, baby, i didn’t expect—”
you shook your head before he could finish. “’s okay. i would’ve told you not to wear one anyway.”
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. he’d do anything for you, give you whatever you asked for.
“when you put it in,” you whispered, holding his gaze, “i want to feel all of you.”
jaafar cursed under his breath.
“are you sure?” 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.
“i’m sure.” you said as you tugged his shirt up.
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. he’d been working out consistently for his role — putting in endless hours to get into shape and build stamina — 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 — still so hard, pressed tight between his body and yours — 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.
“never been more sure. i want this so bad, you don’t even know.”
“okay, sweetface,” he said softly, before placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose.
you pouted, crinkling your nose up at the nickname. “don’t call me that.”
“why not?” he teased, his face breaking into a lazy smile as he moved his body slowly over yours, rubbing his hard dick right against you. “you don’t like it when i call you names?”
“n-not like that,” you laughed shakily, spreading your thighs wider so he could get closer. “not that.”
with the same teasing tone, his thrusts getting a little harder, his dick more persistent against you, he murmured, “what kind of names do you like, then?”
he dropped his head down, breath fanning over your throat with each word, his hair tickling your skin. “baby?”
“y-yeah...”
“yeah?” 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. “you like angel?”
your stomach went instantly into knots. “yes, j.”
he placed a soft kiss right below your ear.
“princess?”
“yeah, yes.”
he nipped your earlobe, thrusting his hips again, pressing the thick length of him hard against your body.
“and what about good girl?” he asked softly against your ear.
you gasped and pulled on his hair, overwhelmed by it all — 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.
“that’s what you like,” he said, and it wasn't a question. “you wanna be a good girl for me, i know you do.”
he trailed light kisses over your skin — up from your jaw, to your cheek, to your lips.
then he looked down at you, his eyes low when he said, “that’s why you keep cumming so easily for me, isn’t it?”
you bit your lip, unable to find your voice, but still gave him one small nod.
“now if you want to be even better for me, baby,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips tight as he lined himself up, “you’re gonna cum all over my dick.”
you could barely get an affirmation out before you couldn’t 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 — 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.
“fuck, baby,” 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 couldn’t take it anymore, whining for more.
“tell me what you want,” he coaxed sweetly between thrusts. “want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”
"fuck me… i wanna feel you so deep in me—" it all spilled out of your mouth in a stupor.
“y’know i’m gonna give you anything you want, don’t you?”
“you’re gonna take care of me?” you shuddered.
his reply was a low murmur against your neck. “don’t i always?”
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.
“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this,” 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.
“you’re so big,” 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 — your pussy dripping onto the seat beneath you as you spread your thighs wider around his hips, dying to take him.
“baby, baby,” 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. “look what you’re doing to me. feel how bad i want you?”
“are you gonna give it to me, jaafar?” you whined.
“so eager,” he hummed, fixing his eyes between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours. “i wanna take my time with you.”
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.
“i need you inside,” you gasped.
“can you even take the whole thing?” he asked so sweetly.
you didn’t 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. “we’ll see.”
he pressed his dick to your pussy and slid all that wetness — his precum, your arousal — 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.
“jaafar, please,” you begged. “i want more.”
“you’re so sweet for me; ‘course i’m gonna give you as much as you can take.” 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. “but first i want you to see how deep i can get.”
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 — back, then forward — 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.
“you’re gonna feel me in your stomach, baby.” he slurred.
“i want it,” you shuddered, pulling him into another kiss as he rubbed himself over you.
“i know you do, i know.”
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 — breath shaky and catching in his throat.
“okay, baby, okay,” 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.
“oh, you’re so wet,” he groaned.
he was shuddering, and you were gasping, “you feel so good.”
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, “so good for me, baby... feel good when i fuck you raw? are you getting what you wanted?”
“yes, yes... more.”
“so tight,” he murmured, and you clamped down around him, hearing him suck in a breath through his teeth. “y’have be careful squeezing me like that… might cum inside you. you know i shouldn’t do that.”
“but i want it.”
“yeah? you want me to fill you up. make me yours?” his breath caught as he pushed the throbbing length of his dick further in, filling you up deeper and deeper with what you’d been wanting so desperately. “you want me to fill you up, baby? wanna be my girl?”
“yes, j,” you gasped, fingers knotting tight in his soft hair, pulling his mouth inches from yours. “i wanna be yours.”
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 — where he was lowering his lean weight as he sank his dick into your puffy, wet pussy — 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.
“you like watching me stretch it out, don’t you?”
you nodded with your lip caught between your teeth, unable to manage an answer, just a whine.
“jaafar,” you gasped, fingers knotting in his soft hair as you looked up into his dark eyes. “i want all of you.”
jaafar’s 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.
“you have me, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and rough with emotion. “all of me. i’m all yours.”
“yeah?” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“yeah,” he murmured, placing a lingering, desperate kiss on the corner of your mouth before sinking his dick just a fraction deeper. “always been yours.”
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 — giving you as much as you could take, making sure you adjusted to him.
“feels so good in you, baby.”
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. “so fucking good... i’m so close—”
“you wanna cum again?” he asked, fucking you a little faster, a little deeper. “keep your eyes open, be good and watch yourself make a mess on my dick.”
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.
“that’s right, baby, there you go... see how good this pussy is for me, how wet it gets for me?” 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, “see how fast it cums for me? how many orgasms are you gonna let me fuck out of you, princess?”
“more,” you gasped. “more—”
“you’re gonna let me fuck more out of you, huh? you’re gonna let me give you everything you need?”
“yes, jaafar, yes.”
your pussy was so sensitive from cumming that the stimulation felt insane. you’d barely come down from your last orgasm, and somehow you were building up again. even though he was slowing down, you couldn’t stop that cresting feeling.
“cumming so much for me... i know you needed this so bad, baby.”
“i need it so much, j,” you whined. “i need you to keep going, please... i need you to fuck me harder. i think... i think i’m gonna—”
“already?” he groaned, fucking you harder, faster, slurring, “oh, fuck, i can feel it... gimme another, lemme feel you cum again.”
it was so good, each stroke getting you closer, but you were craving more, something deeper. “gimme the whole thing, jaafar, please.”
he swore under his breath, shaking his head, so much pleasure on his face. “i don't wanna overwhelm you.”
“please, j.”
“god,” 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 — 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. “you okay, baby?”
“yes, yes, yes— it feels so good.”
“tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice thick with anticipation as he pushed inside, going deep. “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
you nodded, so much tension stored up in your quivering walls as he coaxed them open. you whined for more, wanting him deeper.
“you want me to give you the whole thing? yeah? you wanna take my dick deep?” he put a big hand on your stomach, pressing down on it as he pushed forward, coaxing, “oh, fuck, baby, you’re taking so much... doing so well for me... that’s a good girl, take it all the way.”
you took it all the way — 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, “you’re so big, ‘’m so close.”
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 — 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.
“takin’ it so deep,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “no one’s ever...” 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.
his mouth met your skin, kissing your jaw and cheek as he fucked you, his mouth kissing at your neck before he murmured, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”
“yeah— f-feels so good.”
“you want me to mark you up, baby? you want me to fuck you so deep, you feel it in the morning?”
you whined for it. “yes, yes, yes.”
it was building; all of it was getting sloppier, more needy — 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.
“i’ve been so close for so long, baby... you don’t 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.”
“i want you to fill me up,” you gasped.
“i can’t do that, baby,” 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. “god, i need to... but you know i shouldn’t.”
“please, please...” there was a tremor in your voice, another wave threatening to wash over. “you said you’d give me anything i wanted.”
“fuck,” he murmured. “how am i supposed to say no to you?”
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 — spit on your lips, sweat on your skin, your moans heightening with each stroke.
“you really want my cum?” he asked, his voice raw.
“i need it,” you whined.
then he was groaning softly, your moans getting louder as he panted, “cum on me, baby... cum on me and i’ll fill this pretty pussy up, i’ll get you nice and full just like you want.”
that was all it took — just the promise of being full of his load, and you crashed over, gasping, “i’m— oh fuck—” the curve of his dick hit just right, splitting your convulsing walls open as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside.
“good girl, my good fucking girl,” he slurred as your walls gushed all over his dick, digging his fingers into your ass. “you deserve so much cum, baby—”
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 — looking down, breathing hard — 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.
“look at you,” he murmured, eyes still on your pussy. “you’re so pretty, baby.”
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 — the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth.
“i meant what i said, you know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “about being yours. it’s not just because of tonight. i’ve cared about you for way too long to ever let this be just a one-time thing.”
"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.
“you know... i really didn't expect you to be such a dirty talker.”
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, you’d 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. you’d 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 who’d 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.
───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───
once again, i got carried away </3
also ik i had more things listed in the cw in the ss i posted the other day but it was getting a bit too long.. don't be mad at me
it’s THISSSSS specific part of don’t stop til you get enough. his face is so fucking cute I need this tattooed on the inside of my eyelids he’s such a loverboyyyy ❤️🩹😭
nearly maxed out tags cus i’m crazy and just have so much love in my heart i wanted to tag everyone but i had to condense so i’m sorry if i missed anyone also but just know i love you all so bad
also a lot of you i haven’t interacted with in a long time and i feel bad abt that🙁 and some ppl that i tagged haven’t even been active since last year or longer like omg pls come back soon i miss you guys 😣😣
OMG THANK YOU SM BABY I MISS INTERACTING WITH YOU TOO<\3
my most favourite people here🙂↕️: @cherryvvave @moviecritc @bloomcissa @cryptic-doe @rh1nestcned @lechelovestoyap @luviery @vianawaits @scissorhvnds @dreamersentity @kamislop @batwngs @sakunai @mystiquevoid @1nsignia @patientofarkhamasylum @arfemiz @froggibus @tinafication @bitemysin @torupng @brinawing @biovomit @evilmanhater @gr0und-zer00 (i'm sorry if i didn't tag someone, but know that you're very dear to me too<3)
i feel like i don't say it enough, but i love you all, and y'all are very very dear to me. here on tumblr i found the community i feel sort of belonging to and with who i have experienced peak girlhood♥️
GAH STOP THIS IS SO SWEET siri how do i tag all of my 150+ mutuals-
i'm going to tag some of my babygirls and if i miss some PLEASE DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY i love and cherish all my lovely mooties :( even if we don't interact much
Thank you for thinking of me & tagging me, I love y’all DOWNNNN. So talented, all my babies 🥹🫶🏾 @plan3tch1ld @ttangerinexo @1andonlytashae @pvtypyt @hiiioliviaxoxo @blkkbratt @sugarysweetooth @angelfacediary @szalipcombo @yungrapunzel @cherrishkissed @multifandomposts-blog
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 anyone— 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 🫣 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 himself— 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.
The Latin American leg of the tour was coming up, and soon you’d 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,
“I want you to come with me this time. Experience all of it. But I don’t want you feelin’ lost when we go places where no one speaks English. Let me find you somebody good who can help?”
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.
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.
You’d simply smiled and told him he didn’t have to do that, but he brushed your hair away from your face like he always did and insisted.
“I wanna do it. I never want my life to make yours smaller.”
Michael didn’t 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, you’d 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.
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. He’d 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.
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.
He’d watch your mouth when you spoke to him. Often, he’d 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.
And, he had already started looking for the perfect ring.
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 he’d picked out just for you.
He still wasn’t satisfied yet. The ring needed to be perfect, something you’d 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.
He wanted you to feel safe and chosen. So, everything was great, until it wasn’t.
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.
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 hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.
And from that day on, Michael was on Alejandro's ass. He noticed everything.
The way he’d correct your accent by gently touching your chin so he could watch your mouth form the words correctly. How he’d linger just a little too long after the lesson was over, talking about music or places he’d lived.
Or the one that made Michael clench his jaw so hard it hurt— 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.
Physically Michael was there, mentally? He was somewhere else.
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 he’d leave on your lips turned into gentle forehead kisses.
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 he’d 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.
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.
That night, he barely spoke to you. It was extremely abnormal.
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 goin’ it didn’t 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 you’d wake up sweating like he’d been trying to fuse the two of you together.
That was when you started to think, maybe it wasn’t just work…
So, you tried to talk to him the next morning. He was sitting at the island and reading the day’s paper. As you walked behind him you trailed your fingertips gently across his shoulder blades. The touch sent chills down his spine— like it always did when you touched him. Still, his eyes stayed on the paper.
“Morning, mama” he said simply. He didn’t turn to kiss you and he didn’t trail his gaze over your face slowly, taking you in the way he usually did like he hadn’t seen you in forever.
“Mikey, are you okay baby?” 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.
“I’m fine.” He murmured, sipping his tea.
“You’ve been super distant. Tell me somethin’.” Your gaze stayed on him and he was quiet for a moment.
“Just been workin’, that’s all.”
“Michael” your tone held a warning.
He finally met your eyes and immediately you noticed the ghost of something sad in them.
“Just… focus on your lessons baby. Tour’s coming and I want you to be ready.” Then he'd folded his newspaper and left the room quietly.
You stared at him a moment longer as he walked away. Really, you weren’t 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 wasn’t like him at all. Nothing about Michael Jackson was nonchalant, he was not a man who did distant.
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 he’d interrupt his own sentences just to tell you your skin was glowing in the warm morning light. He got quiet and shy when he’d 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 didn’t realize it was your growing rapport with Alejandro. And— 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 he’d 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 he’d correct you. Which ironically, was one of the reasons Michael had picked him for you. Now he was kicking himself.
He heard the way you’d 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 Michael’s 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.
Deep down, Michael knew the man was just doing his job. A tutor should be friendly and encouraging— 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 you’d chosen. You’d taste something off the spoon and always hold it out for him, saying “Taste it baby, lemme know how it tastes”. He’d brush his lips over your fingers, murmuring how delicious it was.
Any time you’d 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 something— and how you’d scrunch your nose and bat his hand away, mumbling “Boy leave my hair alone” 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. He’d go back to his studio, attempting to do anything close to working. But he’d 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 wouldn’t have to face the soft worried look you kept giving him.
And every night, he’d lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to your breathing and think:
She’s mine. She’s mine. She’s mine. Please be only mine.
The last straw was on a Friday.
Alejandro had just finished up for the day, and he was packing his bag when he casually said, “There’s 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.”
Before he had finished the invitation you were already shaking your head politely.
“Thanks Alejandro, but Michael and I have plans.”
Alejandro's smile remained, but his eyes flicked to the hallway.
“He works a lot huh? Pretty lady like you deserves to get out sometimes.”
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 man’s 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.
When you looked up the smile on your face died immediately as you took in the expression on Michael’s face.
“What’s up? Why you lookin’ at me like that?” 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.
“Baby, you don’t see how he looks at you?” He sighed, finally speaking his mind. For a moment you just looked at him and blinked. You were totally lost.
“What are you talking about?”
“Alejandro” the name came out like it hurt to say. “The way he’s leaning in too close when you talk. Him watching your mouth when you talk. The dinner invitations. And now, “Pretty lady like you should get out sometime”? You makin’ me crazy on purpose? Did I do something wrong?”
His eyes were glassy and a little wild.
Your stomach dropped. So that’s what’s going on.
“Baby no… it’s just lessons. I’m getting ready for tour like we talked about. That’s all.”
Michael’s hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t 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.
“You know how I feel about you.” His voice was softer than he intended when it came out. “You 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 don’t exist. Like what we have don’t mean nothin… like he could just take you.”
You stepped toward him carefully and placed your palms on his chest in an attempt to ground him.
“I only want you, Michael. You know that. There’s nobody else. Never has been.”
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,
“You’re so special and I wake up every day terrified somebody’s gonna see that and try to take you from me. I can’t breathe right when he’s in your face like that. I can’t think when he touches you like that. I keep imagining you laughin’ with him how we laugh… and it feels like my chest is caving in.”
Your heart swelled at the raw honesty in his tone.
“I need you,” He said, eyes shiny. “Need you so bad it scares me. You’re the only thing that feels real to me. Only person who makes the noise in my head go quiet. And the thought of losin’ you—” he shut his eyes tightly. “Somebody else touching you… it makes me sick. Please. Prove it to me. Prove you’re still mine.”
He looked a little embarrassed at how desperate he sounded but he didn’t 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 didn’t hesitate.
“Okay. Anything.”
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.
Once you were inside, Michael turned to you with dark, hungry eyes.
“Strip for me, baby.”
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 didn’t 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.
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 didn’t kiss you. Instead, he grazed his fingers over your belly and said, “Lay back for me, pretty.” 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.
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.
“Look at you,” He murmured, eyes still trained on you. “Already so wet for me and I barely touched you. Been walkin’ around with that tutor, lettin’ him look at you like that… makin’ me crazy. Now this pussy’s creaming and clenchin’ on my fingers the second I put my fingers in it.”
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.
“Not yet, baby” He whispered against your lips. “You been makin’ me feel like I was losin’ you. Now, you’re gonna feel how scared I’ve been.”
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 didn’t stop when your thighs started shaking.
“That’s one, gimme another. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”
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.
Your arousal dripped down Michael’s wrist when it hit and your whole body felt oversensitive.
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.
“Oh baby, look at you. So needy you can’t even wait, huh?” 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.
Michael’s heart flipped when he observed the hungry yearning look you gave him as you admired him.
“C’mere baby” 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.
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 you’d 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.
“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. The words were shaky from how full you felt. “I only want you baby. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this… I’m yours”
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.
“You feel so good baby.” He moaned high and shakily. “So, so good. I can feel you flutterin’ around me just right.”
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 spurt— 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.
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.
“You’re so perfect, baby” 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.
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.
“You feel that, baby? How you keep flutterin’ around the head of my dick every time I grind into that little spot.” He kissed you again as you whimpered. “So sensitive and perfect for me”. 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 didn’t stop.
“I’m sorry, princess” he said softly, still grinding and kissing you. “I know it’s too much and you’re sensitive, but I need you so bad. Let me feel it baby. Cum on my dick again so I know you’re mine. Only mine”
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.
“Look at you,” He cooed in a lovesick tone. “Can’t stop cummin’ 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. Creamin’ all over me like a good girl.”
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.
“Look how pretty you look gettin’ fucked like this baby. Don’t look away. Want you to watch this pretty face while you cum for me. Watch how good you’re takin’ me”
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.
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.
Sweat glistened on Michael’s abdomen, and you moaned as beads began to drip down his chest, his cum and your arousal smeared everywhere.
“I should keep you like this all day,” he groaned as he kept grinding deep. “Pinned and stuffed full like this, strokin’ that little spot ‘till your eyes roll back. I could keep this pretty pussy cummin’ for me until you can’t even remember your own name. Would you like that, baby?”
The only thing you could do was sob and nod in agreement as another orgasm built in your already spent body. Michael’s 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.
“I love you. Fuck— I love you baby, so much” 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.
But Michael didn’t 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.
“Stop runnin’ from me. You know you want me to keep makin’ you cream like this. Ain't that right, baby?”
“Y-yes Michael. P-please” His features lit up as you started to beg. He smirked at you in the mirror and said,
“Please what, baby? Please don’t stop makin’ this pussy cum?” 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 “Good girl, baby”. His voice was thick with lust as he admired your reflection.
“Doin’ so good for me… squirtin’ all over me while I’m in your stomach, walls jumpin’ like you’re tryna milk me… you love me baby? Love gettin' your pussy ruined like this?”
You tried and failed to respond, only managing to stutter out broken “I love you’s”. The sensation of you cumming around him was so intense it dragged another orgasm out of him.
Michael’s 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.
“Fuck baby— you’re milkin’ me so good— shit” 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.
“I love you, I’m so sorry. I just got so scared. I… I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me. I can’t help it.” 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.
“You’re not gonna lose me,” you whispered back. “I’m right here. Always.”
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.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
please respect my work 💌
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.
call me crazy but him being overprotective about his fans is so hot, like it shouldn’t be hot but it is hot. i know his voice was probably sharp and deep as fuck here too.
Uhh maybe a fic about Mike x babymomma reader. They’re together and he gets her pregnant at both 18!! Having to tell his parents and how the public finds out. And then them being parents to their kid, maybe she comes on set with their baby couples years after when he’s filming the wiz and Diana gets jealous You can add things to it if you’d like, if it’s not much sorry ❤️❤️.
omg I loooooveeee domestic stories like this, it’s a yes from me babes 😭💜
if you receive this, you make somebody happy! go on anon and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better!!! (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡
summary: it’s five in the morning, and he’s up having phone sex with youuuu
(you guys know the song, right? — On The Hotline by Pretty Ricky)
contents: (MDNI), smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, use of sex toys, dirty talk, praise, both of you are a bit shy at first, michael is a freakkkk (you are too)
w/c: 1.3k
dividers by @/angeliicide | masterlist
Michael stares at the ceiling, the faint glow from the city lights painting thin stripes across the dark hotel suite. It’s been like that for a while. He just can’t stop thinking about you.
He misses you.
He rolls over, picks up the hotel phone receiver, then puts it down with a sigh. Maybe calling you twice in 5 hours is a bit overkill. Plus, he knows that you're asleep.
But the thought of hearing your voice again, your sweet laugh, is a persistent itch under his skin. He picks up the receiver one more time, dialing the number before he can overthink himself out of it. The phone rings, and it breaks the pre-dawn silence of your bedroom, pulling you from a deep sleep.
You turn over with a heavy sigh, eyes still shut as you grab the receiver. "Hello?"
Your voice is thick with sleep, yet still as sweet as honey to his ears.
"Hey... I'm sorry. I know what time it is, 'n I know we talked a few hours ago. I just... couldn't stop thinking about you."
You push yourself up against the headboard, pulling the blanket closer as your hand slowly rubs the sleep from your eyes. Your hair is messy, your satin top hanging loosely on your shoulders. "You didn't have to hang up earlier. Y'know I would've stayed up with you... How's Chicago? Everything okay?"
He shifts on the bed, the sheets rustling softly. "Yeah.. Chicago's fine. I'm fine. Lonely... I miss you, mama." The line crackles with the distance between you, but his voice feels like he's sitting right in front of you. You hear him let out a soft, shaky breath. "I can almost feel you next to me. Miss your touch... the way you smell."
A small smile plays on your lips as you settle deeper into the pillows. "I'm right here, baby. Not going nowhere."
"Are you?"
"Yeah."
You hear him shuffle again, this time with a soft groan. "I miss you so much."
You giggle softly, sliding down just enough so your head rests against the soft pillows of your shared bed. "I know, baby. You told me already."
"I can't help it." He lets out a soft laugh. "My mind keeps replaying things. From the other night. Before I left."
A heat blooms from your stomach, and you could feel the warmth cascade over you. "Oh, yeah? What part?"
"All of it, really. The way you... you looked at me when I was..." He hesitates, his voice barely a whisper over the phone. You have to close your eyes to fully hear him on the other end. "When I was kissing you there."
"Kissing me where?"
"You know where, woman. Stop playing." His voice is low, a little bashful yet teasing against your ear. "...Down there. Between your legs. You know what I'm talking about."
You let out a soft, involuntary sigh, and you slowly kick the sheets off of you. Your body heat is becoming too much to bear, even in the cool bedroom. "I remember. You were... very thorough, Michael.."
He hums softly, the sound vibrating through the phone line. "I wanna be thorough right now. That's the thing." He pauses, as if he's contemplating his next words. "Are you... are you touching yourself?"
Your hand stills where it had been resting on your stomach. "No... should I be?"
"I think you should." His voice is gentle, but a bit firm. You rest the phone against your ear, his own breath giving you a phantom sensation through the receiver. "For me, okay? So I could hear you again. Pretend it's my mouth on you."
Your breath shakes softly as your fingers trail downward, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. You can hear the smile in his voice as he pays attention to the shift in your voice. Your voice trembles slightly as your fingers trail up and down your slit.
"Tell me what you're doing, baby. That's it."
"I'm... I'm thinking about you. About your tongue."
A low groan escapes him. "Yeah? What's it doing? Be specific for me, mama. You circling your clit? Slow like I did?"
A soft whine falls from your lips, his voice and your fingers sending you reeling. "You talk so nasty, Mikey."
"I know, baby. Jus' keep imagining it's me. My mouth tasting you. God, you always taste so sweet on my tongue. I never wanna stop, not until you squirm and scream against me... begging." His voice is low and soft. "You like when I talk like this, don't you? Makes you feel real good inside. You just as nasty as I am."
A breathy moan is all you could conjure, your face growing hot as you feel yourself getting shy. You couldn't believe you were so close to getting off by his voice and his voice alone. It's driving you crazy.
"Wan' you to imagine my fingers now, okay? Sliding inside you, filling you up." He lets out a soft groan, and — God, you almost miss it. You force yourself to stay quiet before hearing a quiet 'shlck shlck shlck' on his end. "Fuck... I wish I was there. Wish I could feel you clenching around me."
The sound is unmistakable now as it gets louder — the soft, slick rhythm of his own hand moving over his dick, syncing with the filthy promises he's whispering in your ear. It only spurs you on, your fingers slightly brushing over your sweet spot, only enough to cause your hips to jerk against your hand. This is one of the times you wish he were with you. His long fingers always found it easy to coax you to your orgasm.
"Baby... I need you s'bad. It doesn't feel the same."
"What you mean?"
"I just —" you pant, slightly from desperation. "I can't reach the same spots you do."
"Hm, tell you what, you know that toy I got you for your birthday? Yeah. Go ahead 'n grab it for me."
You scramble out of bed, the phone pressed between your shoulder and ear, and fumble with the top drawer of your nightstand. You can still hear the soft sound of his hand moving faintly, along with occasional moans. You slide back in bed, the cool silicone of the dildo in your hand. A shaky breath escapes you as you press the tip against your entrance, sliding it in nice and slow.
He moans, the sound of his hand moving speeding up. He gazes down at the precum soaking his tip, throwing his head back. His eyes squeeze shut, imagining it was your slick coating his dick instead of his own. "Fuck — shit, baby, just like that. That's my girl. Fuck yourself like it's me. Like I'm right there making love to you."
Your hips rock against the toy, small whines and his name falling from your lips with each thrust of your hand. "M-Mike... I'm so full... Won't last long like this —"
"I know, mama. You take it so good. Just for me. Oh, baby, I miss you being on this dick." He can't contain himself anymore; the sound of his stroking gets faster, his moans louder against your ear. All whiny and desperate. "You fuck me so good, y'know that? Just thinking about it makes me cum. You make me crazy."
A high, keening sound escapes your throat as you angle the toy against your sweet spot, kissing it just right, your body tensing and then shuddering in a sudden, yet euphoric orgasm. His voice is tight with strain, frantic as his thumb presses against his tip — just like you do. He lets out a high-pitched moan, his own release painting his stomach in pulses.
The only sound on the line is the two of you trying to catch your breath, the connection humming softly with the aftermath as the rising sun starts to seep through the small stripes of the curtains.
"I love you, Tink. I really do."
"I love you too, nasty. Now get some sleep. You got a busy day tomorrow."
titsay
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
yousharknotpass
2087
tangentwithtanner
