Tags: #michael Jackson, Friends with benefits, tension, passionate, celebrity x reader
Summary: You finally cross the line with your long time friend Michael Jackson. The night is explosive and all consuming. Then silence. You don’t hear from him for weeks, until you get a late night call from him begging to see you again. He couldn’t get over sweet you sounded in his ear, he wants to used your moans in his next project.
He smiles at you and you feel like you just won the world. He releases his intoxicating hold on you, and delicately guides you into the recording booth.
authors note: Enjoy~~
You toss your head back in delight as Michael’s tongue assassinates your clit. This is not how you thought your evening would end. He was a long time friend, very close even, you didn’t even think of him this way.
But there was something about him tonight. You…him… at a lowkey bar. The dim yellow light casting harsh shadows across the lines of his face.
You called him wanting to vent to him about someone you’re seeing. You are on outs with that person, and he usually gives the best advice.
Though you were looking for verbal support, you instead got an arsenal of precise licks and sucks, making the thought of that person a distance memory.
You arch into him, riding him begging for more.
“Oh Michael.” You moan.
You feel his groan vibrate against your core. He likes when you say his name, and you like to say his name.
When he lifts his face from your legs, your arousal coats his face. You go to wipe it, but he grabs your hand and licks the remnants off your fingers. It’s immensely hot, heat rushes back to your core as if the first orgasm didn’t exist.
In an instant he turns you on again. You lock eyes, your hunger rivals his own ravenous pair.
He closes the space between you to lock lips. You taste your arousal on his tongue, it’s tangy and sweet. Your hands trail between your body’s to rub at the fabric that confines what you want most from him. He moans against your lips, it’s so raw that it makes you want to give him everything.
Anything to release the tension boiling between you. You fumble with the buttons of his pants. Your fingers shaking from desire. Everything seems to be getting in the way. Your own clothes—his.
He helps you pull them off, his erection springing out instantly. Long and thick and dripping precum. Your throat bobs in response. You doubt if it will fit but you’re so wet that there probably will be no friction anyways.
It will just slide in so easily like he was made for you. Just the thought makes your core pulse.
“I’ll be gentle.” He promises in your ear. His voice echoes deep in your head. He’s all you can think about right now.
You watch as he slowly presses into you, feeling your insides part for him. You squeeze around him, eliciting a wet groan from his throat.
“Sorry—“ you say, not sure if you mean it or not.
“No you’re perfect,” he shakes his head with that signature grin that knocks you off your axis. That smile gets him a lot on this world. It got him, you.
After crying about an argument with your situationship, he pulled you into a dark hallway promising a way to forget them just for one night. Then he kissed you like he’d been waiting his entire life too.
You were hooked ever since. Now he’s pounding into you with sweet and smooth rhythmic thrust. Each one knocks a dirty moan from your throat. You can’t help it, just feels so good. He feels so good, against you, the smooth lines of his body rubbing against yours.
He’s so tentative and tender. He asks if you’re alright and if it’s too much. He places soft kisses all over your body, softly nibbling at the nape of your neck.
You moan his name more and more as your next orgasm threatens to ripe through your body.
“Keep saying my name.” he growls.
“Michael,” It’s breathy, almost inaudible if he hadn’t been so close he wouldn’t have heard it.
His next thrusts are long and deep as you feel his arousal pulsing into you warm and stringy. Your own body shaking violently from the force of your own orgasm.
He slowly pulls out from you. Leaving you on the bed panting and tired. When he comes back he has a towel and a cold glass of water. He hands you the glass, then gently daps the rag around you.
It’s nice. You never had aftercare before. His big hands clasp your face, forcing you to look up at him. He kisses you soft and possessive. As if telling you that your his.
You are in total ruined after him. He gives you one of his old t-shirts. It’s a bit oversized on you, hanging scandalously just below your panty line. It’s a worn out burgundy color with the reminisce of Mickey Mouse ears printed on it. It smells just like him, you don’t want to give it back.
But you know in the morning this will all end.
Just as you suspected, it all ended. Just a bit harsher than you expected. You said your awkward goodbyes and he promised he’ll be in touch. But he never did. Days gone by without a word or a beep on your answering machine.
Soon that night was a distant beautiful memory that cherished. How could it ever happen again, right? He was your friend and now you blew up the friendship for multiple orgasms and passion (100% worth it though).
It was a lose you’d learn to deal with in due time. You did try to hook up with your ex afterwards but they didn’t seem to do it for you anymore. It was like he turned a switch on your body that only he could find.
No one else’s hands felt the way his did. No one else’s lips pressured as firm and addicting as his. No amount of friction seemed to get you off like he did, not even your own hands. You spend many sad nights imagining his long fingers inside your cunt, riding them into orgasm. It did the job well enough but nothing would be Michael.
It pissed you off actually. It was one of those nights were you teetered on the edge of orgasm but nothing was throwing you over. You huff in frustration.
How dare he fuck your guts out, say he’ll call but never does? It’s not like you’re some random girl he hooked up with. You’re a close friend. You’ve been friends for years. But all it took was one night of intense pleasure to unravel years worth of friendship.
Never again, you think.
You swipe your feet on the ground. Putting your slippers on, you go to the kitchen for some ice cream.
You hear a dial on your answering machine.
Beeep!
You press the button to hear the call you missed.
“Hey, uh—it’s me. Michael. I was calling to see you are in the area.”
You scoff. Now you’re a bootycall at midnight. Regardless you press to call back. The phone rings only twice before he picks up.
“Hello?” You say, kind of curious on what he could possibly want right now.
“Hey,” his voice is so soft it melts away any of fustrations he built in your chest, “I just want to say I’m sorry for not calling sooner.”
“It’s okay…you’re a busy man.” You knew that deep down but that doesn’t make his silence any less hurtful.
“I still should’ve. But to tell you the truth, I just couldn’t call.” He admits.
“You were busy—“
“No I don’t think you understand. I couldn’t call you.”
“It’s okay Michael. I get it.” You don’t understand why he keeps telling you that, it doesn’t make you feel any better.
“I couldn’t call you because I was scared to see you again—cause I knew if I heard your voice again I wouldn’t be able to focus. The funny thing is, I haven’t been able to focus without hearing you anyways.”
You go silent. You don’t know what to say. But there’s a strange relief in knowing you weren’t the only one who was tortured by the space the other left.
“The way you moaned my name,” His sentence breaks off, you could almost hear the shudder in his voice. “It was beautiful.”
“Really?” You say, biting your lip as you remember the feeling of his cock drilling deep into you. You squeeze your thighs tight to quell the ache.
You’re already dripping, and he didn’t even do anything yet. Just by his low seducing voice and words.
“Yeah. I’m actually down the street at one of my studios, if you want to stop by. You should stop by actually.” He invites you.
“Alright.” You agree.
“See you soon?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“See you soon.” You echo.
Once again, he throws you off your rocker. This wasn’t what you thought your night going. You almost thought you imagined the whole thing until you see him at the address he left you.
He’s in causal dark attire, fashioning his signature ray-bans. He looks good, but then again he always look good.
You play with the fabric of the loose sweater dress you quickly threw on. Suddenly conscious of the last time he saw you, damp and wanting. Your hair all tousled and messy. Your lip stick smeared and his rich skin tainted red.
Heat rushed to your cheeks. Just at the thought.
The studio was small and intimate. There was a booth, and panels of musical equipment you have no idea on how to use.
“It’s good to see you.” His warm voice caresses your ears. His words accompany a smile that tells you he means it.
“You too.”
Your smile mirrors his. After a beat of looking deeply at each other you say:
“So. What are you working on?”
“Something…this might sound crazy but—“
“You always sound crazy,” you laugh.
“Shut up,” he chuckles, then his face hardens. His eyes blacken. “There was something about the way you moan that’s so melodic.”
“Oh?” You breath.
“Yeah. I couldn’t get it out of head.” He steps closer to you, putting his hands on your waist like they belong there.
Your eyes connect where his hands meet your body.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, and it’s—“ he breathes low in ur ear, nibbling at it. “It’s been stuck in my mind ever since.” He plants soft kisses where your ear meets your jaw.
You arch into his touch, mouth agape already. Maybe it’s from all the failed orgasms and built up tension from the past few weeks, but your body is overly sensitive. You are hyper aware of every where your bodies meet. His hand caressing the lines of your sides and the other rubbing your shoulder, sending shudders down your spine.
Had it always been so easy to fall into his orbit?
His lips kiss sloppily down your neck, his fingers pull at the neckline of your dress to expose the burning skin underneath. He kisses down to your collarbone.
“Michael,” you breathe.
“That’s it.” He hissed. You feel hot breaths against your skin, lighting small fires everywhere he touched.
“Can you do something for me?” He asks.
“Any-anything,” you plea. You’d do anything he would say in this moment if it meant he’d continue to kiss your body like a starved man.
“Can I use your voice in my music?” He reluctantly asks.
“Sure.” You agree. Desire clouds your vision and you don’t even ask what he meant by that. You just go along with what he says.
He smiles at you and you feel like you just won the world. He releases his intoxicating hold on you, and delicately guides you into the recording booth.
There’s a red glowing sign that says: Recording.
He places you in a chair. Gives you a pair of headphones.
“I’m going to play you something, okay?”
“Alright.”
He leaves you there. Your eyes watch as he plays with knobs on the panels. You hear soft guitar fill your ears.
You give him a nod, signaling that you can hear it.
The track pauses a moment, his voice replaces it.
“I need you to pleasure yourself.” He asks.
“Huh?”
“Touch yourself.” He repeats.
Your mouth dries. You never did anything like that before. But then again Michael makes you feel things you never did before.
Your take your hand hesitantly to your dripping cunt. You open your legs wide so that he can see. You watch his body stiffen. His hands squeeze the leather chair.
He sees that you have no underwear on. His teeth dive into his bottom lip.
You take to fingers to slowly circle your swollen cilt. It’s still sensitive from your failed masterbation session earlier.
Small moans release from your mouth, they echo in your ears and suddenly you are embrassed with hearing yourself.
Did you really sound like that? So needy and wet.
The track in your ear plays again, you circle your clit to the beat. You feel it deep in your soul. Suddenly you forget where you are. It’s just you and the music in the booth. Suddenly two fingers are not enough, you need to feel inside yourself. You jam fingers into your cunt. Stroking your g-spot like an animal in heat.
You moan and moan untill the song ends and your climax rips through you at the same time. You are left breathless and tired.
The booth door swings open, Michael grabs you into a harsh mash of the lips.
His savagely clashes his mouth against yours, intensity fueling his quick and hard movements. His hands grab and squeeze wherever they can.
“That’s was so hot.” He says between his assault against your lips. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you.”
His desperation makes you clench and ache for him. Suddenly you aren’t close enough. You want—no you need to feel him in your skin. You grap at his shirt pulling him closer into your kiss.
Your teeth clash and your tongue do the tangle. Hands search needfully across clothes bodies.
“Take these off,” you demand, “I need you right now.”
He does as told. His cock springs out, and he aligns himself with your entrance. He shoves himself fully inside with any hesitation. It’s feels like a water on a sizzling fire.
“Deeper!” You plead.
He didn’t even start yet but you are a whimpering mess. He rocks his body into yourself forcefully. This is a complete 180 of the first time you had sex. His moves are hard and quick. He bites and sucks on any skin that comes into contact with him.
Tears prickle your eyes from the force and it’s still not enough. You need to feel him on your soul, your very being.
He picks you up and slams your body against the glass. He drives hard into your back. Oh what a sight this must be on the other side of the glass.
He pulls your hair back so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you from behind. He withdraws his entire length before shoving it all in at once. Stars paint your vision. You come multiple times but he’s not done yet.
He takes you back to the sinful chair dripping with your juices. He places one leg on his shoulder as he drives into you with the pace of a cheetah.
Your mind is so clouded and white. A part of you wonders when will he stop and the louder part of you wants him to never to stop. This angle is so deep and intimate that it hurts your being.
It’s just too much. His fingers rub at your clit and you feel like you might actually explode if you come any more.
“Michael! Michael! Mich—“ you chant, each time you get louder and louder.
You doubt you’d have a voice after this one.
“You’re doing so good baby, just hold on. I’m so close.” He says through gritted teeth.
You feel tired and fatigue. Somehow you end up on the floor straddling him. You are slumped over his shoulders while his pumps become slower and drawn out. You feel his cock twitch inside you, finally painting your core in long thick ropes. His climax is long and slow.
He shudders one long deep groan. You place a soft kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, down to his neck, while riding one last orgasm from him. His moans vibrate against your lips.
You don’t know where you end and he begins, but what you do know was that was the best sex you’d ever had. Your hair sticks to your forehead. Your skin is shiny with a mix of yours and his sweat.
The glass is completely fogged up, say for your hand print on the glass.
The room is messy and smells of sweet sex. Embrassement coats your cheeks. You cannot believe you just did that. Your body can’t believe it either. You can feel the post ache of sex in your stomach.
“Thank you.” He says, his eyes glittering.
“I hope you got what you wanted.”
“And more. I don’t think I can ever get enough of you, girl. I want you to be mine.”
“Will you call me?”
“As long as you answer.”
“I will.”
“So I’ll call.”
He kisses you again. This time is soft and sweet. When he pulls away his eyes glitter not with desire but admiration. That’s when you knew nothing would ever top the feeling he gives you.
It’s almost a year later when you finally hear the symphony you created in the studio. You gave him is next Number One single and all everyone wants to know is who’s the girl on the track.
Tags: veryvocal!michael, talking through it, passionate, gentle porn no plot, sweet, praising
Summary: Michael makes sweet love to you, and he coaches you through every part of it.
Your eyes gently flutter open at the feeling of familiar warm lips against your shoulder. The soft golden glow of the morning cascades across the room.
"Good morning my love," Michael says, his voice raspy in the same way it always was when he woke up.
"Morning," you say softly, your voice almost inaudible, still thick with sleep.
His lips don't just stop at your shoulder, he kisses his way up to the sensitive curve of your neck. His hand cups the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he pulls you closer. Your foreheads touch the way swans do.
You close your eyes, sleep still niggling at the back of your mind, though it's quickly being replaced by a low need.
Michael nudges his lips toward yours, kissing you softly. It's tender and intimate. You kiss him back, your lips moving with his in a lovingly slow rhythm. As the kiss picks up, a soft moan escapes your throat.
Slowly your body buzzes alive as a small fire lights inside you from your chest down to your toes.
You collapse your fingers around his wrist to you steady yourself. Michael lets out a low moan that vibrates against your lips. The sound so raw and so full of want that's only for you.
It makes your heart race.
In a smooth motion, he pulls you on top of him. The kiss deepens instantly, shifting from a soft introduction to something more hungrier and deeper. Your tongues tangle back and forth.
Your hips slowly grind against his crotch. Through his boxers, you feel him slowly hardening under you. The friction makes his cock thicken and pulse against your core.
With a gentle but firm movement, he flips you over, pinning you under him, you melt into the softness of the mattress.
He begins to trail soft kisses down your neck, each one slow, wet, and sweet. It sends shivers down your spine. You moan loudly at the feeling, you toss your head back into a pillow.
He pauses for a moment, his lips brush against the M necklace resting there.
"I love that you're mine," he grumbles into the crook of your neck. "I'm so happy I get to touch you like this," he whispers in between wet kisses.
His large and warm hands slip under the hem of your silk nightgown. The fabric slides up your skin, leaving you exposed to the cool morning air until his palms touch your thighs.
You are already slick, your core wet and aching just for him. Michael releases a shaky breath as he feels you.
"You're already so wet for me baby," he says, his voice full of praise as he kisses your neck again.
His fingers find your clit, rubbing it in soft rhythmic circles. You gasp lightly, your hips bucking upward to meet his hand. His touch is electric so you chase it.
Michael pulls back for a moment, the sudden loss of his warmth makes you shiver. You watch him through heavy lids as he reaches down to free his cock from his boxers. It springs free, thick, and pulsing. The head was already glistening with precum.
The look in his eyes is full of so much love that it's almost painful, his expression full of nothing but tenderness for you.
He shifts his weight, positioning himself between your thighs, aligning the head of his cock with your dripping entrance. He doesn't push it in just yet, his breath hitches as he feels the heat of you against him.
"I'm going to slide just the tip in, okay? Is that okay?" he asks, his voice low.
"Yes," you nod, the word barely a whisper as desire squeezes your throat. Your aching, your walls pulse in anticipation of him filling you.
With a slow agonizing push, Michael slides just the tip of his cock inside you just like he said. The sensation is immediate and overwhelming. You let out a long shaky moan as your body reacts to his girth.
"You like that? Just the tip inside you?" he murmurs, eyes locked onto yours, searching for a reaction.
He loves seeing his effect on you, how your pupils dilate and your breath catches.
He begins to move, slowly thrusting just his tip in and out. With every shallow push, the head of his cock grazes just before your gspot, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through your pelvis. The teasing almost torturous.
"More," you plea, your voice cracking.
You arch your back, your hips tilting upward, begging him to stop with the teasing and bury himself deep inside you already.
"Oh, you want all of it?" he asks, a small knowing smile plays on his lips. He bends down and presses a tender kiss to your cheek.
As he tries to push further, he lets out a sharp hiss.
"You're too tight...god, you're so tight, I can't give you all of it yet," he groans. He pauses, forehead resting on yours, your breaths mixing together. "I'll give you half, okay?"
He pushes forward again. You feel the intense pressure as he slides halfway into you, your walls stretching to accommodate his thickness. He stays there for a moment, letting your body adjust to his size.
Then he slowly begins to rock into you. It''s gentle like a slow grind. Each slow slide in and out feels delicious. Michael watches your face, catching every moan and sharp breath. Making sure that every inch of him is felt.
As he rocks into you he can feel the slight tension in your muscles, the way your walls cling around his girth. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Relax for me baby," he whispers. He pulls back slightly, only to push back in even slower than before. "I'm not all the way in yet, but you feel so good. So incredibly good."
As he speaks his thrust begin to change. The slow rocking evolves into something more chased, a bit more urgent. He isn't rushing but the pace is picking up. He watches as your face twists with pleasure.
"You feel so good. Just relax for me baby. Yeah just like that...relax for me," he murmurs, his voice grounding you even as pleasure threatens to rip you apart.
He pauses for a second, feeling the way you've loosened around him.
"I think you're ready for all of it," he says.
Your core reacts immediately at his words. You clench tightly around him. The tone of his voice and the promise of being filled completely makes your insides weak.
With a deep guttural groan, Michael slowly drives himself all the way into you. He doesn't stop until he is flush against you. Stars paint your vision at the sensation of being completely filled. It's an overwhelming feeling of fullness that reaches deep in your stomach.
"God, you feel so good," he gasps, his head falling back for a moment as he savors the feeling of being completely inside you. "Nice and warm, squeezing me so tight. God, baby, you're so perfect," he moans.
Now that you've accommodated him, the restraint he had been showing snapped. His thrusts speed up, turning into a powerful drive. He rocks into you with a steady relentless force.
"So perfect...just for me," he repeats, the words sound more like a prayer. Like a mantra of devotion for you.
The room fills with the sound of skin meeting skin, wet and slapping. In the distance, the faint chirping of morning birds filters through the window, a contrast to the raw noises filling the bedroom.
"Breathe," he commands softly, noting the way your chest is heaving.
You realize you'd been holding in a long breath due to the suffocating pleasure that squeezes your throat. You gasp, your lungs filling with air as you cling to his shoulders.
"Moan for me, baby. I want to hear you," he urges.
You finally let go, crying out loud as unrestrained moans rip from inside you. Your voice trembles as he rocks into you with a steady pace that hits your gspot with every single thrust.
"You're doing so good," he groans. "You feel so good taking all of me. I just can't get enough of you."
You feel pressure building in a tight coil that winds tighter and tighter in your lower belly.
"Are you about to come?" he asks, his voice thick with arousal. "I feel you clenching around me...wanna come for me, baby?"
Without breaking his thrusts, he reaches down between your bodies. His thumb finds your swollen clit and begins to rub it in fast circular motions. The combination of his cock filling you and his thumb teasing your sensitive bud has you spiraling toward climax's blissful edge.
"That's it...come all over my cock," Michael groans, his voice raw and commanding.
His gentle command is what sends you over. Your walls begin to seize, clamping down on him in a serious of violent contractions. You come hard, a white hot explosion of pleasure radiates from your core and bursts through your body, sizzling every nerve ending.
It's an all consuming feeling that leaves you gasping, head tossing deeper into the pillows.
"You're so perfect," he whispers, his voice shaking.
He doesn't stop. He continues grinding his hips slowly into you as your legs shake violently from the aftershocks of your orgasm. The feeling of your tight pulsing cunt milking him is far too much for him.
"You're making me come....I'm going to come," his voice cracks at the end. "Baby you're making me come!" he shouts out.
With one final plunge, his body goes rigid as he lets out a guttural scream. You feel his cock twitch violently inside you, pulsing as he shoots thick hot ropes of his release deep inside you.
He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths in sync.
"You're so perfect," he pants. "Thank you for making me come. I love you," his voice a low satisfied rumble against your skin.
You reach up and pull him down for another kiss. This one isn't chased, it's gentle, slow, and overflowing with affection. Your tongue dances with his, spelling I love you in his mouth. Using your lips to communicate everything your voice couldn't say.
Michael begins to lightly stroke your clit again. His touch featherlight, but because you are still sensitive from your first climax, it sends a fresh spark through you. You gasp softly against his lips, your hips involuntarily twitch as he coaxes another small orgasm out of you.
Michael lays on top of you, his heart drumming steadily against your chest. Together you lie in silence, still riding the high of your climax. You listen to the birds sing outside as the world around you begins to slowly wake up.
warnings - smut, established relationship, missionary, mating press, jaafar takes polaroids of you, he talks you through it, pet names (sweet girl, good girl, baby, princess ), hand holding, soft!dom jaafar, slight breeding kink.. uhh slight nipple sucking, pwp!
a/n : i need him so bad omfg.
“Come here,” he said quietly, shifting so he could pull you fully into his lap.
You straddled him your arms looping around his neck as you leaned down to kiss him.
It started slow, lips moving together with no rush, no urgency just the build of wanting each other more with every shared breath.
His tongue traced your lower lip before slipping inside. The kiss deepened naturally, hands exploring. You could feel him hardening beneath you, but he didn’t push.
He let the moment stretch, savoring the way your fingers tangled in his curls, the way your hips shifted just enough to create friction.
When you pulled back for air, he rested his forehead against yours.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he admitted. “Not just sex. Just… being close to you like this. Feeling you.” His hands slid up your back under your shirt, skin to skin.
You kissed him again, slower this time, and he responded with equal tenderness. The sofa creaked as you both moved around, making him chuckle against your mouth.
“Maybe we should move before this thing breaks under us.”
Laughing softly, you stood, taking his hand to pull him up with you. He followed without hesitation, letting you lead him down the short hallway to your shared bedroom.
When you both got to the doorway, he paused, pulling you back against him for another kiss, this one hungrier.
Inside the room, he guided you to the bed with gentle hands, never breaking contact. You sat on the edge of the bed, and he knelt between your legs.
“Can I?” he asked, fingers already at the button of your pants. You nodded, lifting your hips so he could slide them down along with your underwear.
He took his time, kissing your thighs, his breath warm against you. Once you were bare from the waist down, he stood and stripped off his own shirt.
He kicked off his pants next, leaving him in boxers that did little to hide his arousal. Climbing onto the bed, he pulled you with him until you were both lying side by side.
His hand found your cheek, turning your face toward him. “Tell me if anything feels off, okay? I want this to be good for you.” The concern was real, part of who he was the sweet soul who always checked in.
“It’s already good. You’re here.”
Kissing you again, he rolled you gently onto your back and settled between your legs.
He didn’t rush to remove the rest of your clothes or his own. Instead, he kissed down your neck, sucking lightly at the spot that always made you gasp, his hands roaming your sides.
When he finally pulled your shirt off and bra off, he paused to admire you, his eyes clouded with want but soft with affection.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, kissing the valley between your breasts before taking one nipple into his mouth.
His tongue circled slowly, and you arched into him, your fingers gripping his head.
He switched to the other side, giving it equal attention, while one hand slid between your legs.
Two fingers slipped inside you with ease, curling just right as his thumb circled your clit. He watched your face the entire time, adjusting pressure and speed based on every little reaction.
Your moans filled the room as he worked you open, preparing you with patience.
“That’s it,” he encouraged softly. “Let me hear you.”
When your hips started to buck against his hand, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean.
He shed his boxers next, his cock springing free, hard and ready. He positioned himself between your legs again, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance but not pushing in yet.
Instead, he leaned down, bracing himself on his forearms so his body covered yours without crushing you.
He kissed you deeply, then pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “Ready for me?”
You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. He guided himself inside you slowly, inch by inch, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.
The stretch was familiar and perfect, filling you completely once he was fully seated.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” He groaned, forehead resting against yours as he started to move in long, slow thrusts. Each one dragged against your inner walls just right, building pleasure.
His hands found yours, fingers interlacing as he gently pinned them beside your head. His big palms engulfed your hands.
“The way your gripping me right now… so wet, so warm. I can feel every little flutter when I bottom out. You’re making such a mess on my cock, already baby.” He whispered into your ear.
You squeezed his hands in return, your voice coming out breathy. "It feels so good."
He unlinked your hands so he could reach over and open the nightstand drawer. The familiar click and slide of wood followed, and he pulled out the old Polaroid camera he kept there just for such moments.
The weight of it settled in his palm as he brought it into view.
He angled the lens downward, capturing the exact moment his thick shaft disappeared between your soaked folds. The shutter clicked, the mechanical whirring filling the air as the photo slid out.
"I want to remember exactly how you look right now, spread open and dripping around my cock."
Your walls fluttered at his words, another moan slipping free.
“Fuck, that’s so hot.”
He lifted the polaroid again, this time angling it from the side to catch the way your body rocked with each stroke.
The flash went off, and the photo ejected with that same soft whir. Jaafar groaned at the sight on the developing square before tossing it onto the sheets, focusing back on you, his hips never faltering.
“I love documenting how good you look stretching around me.” He said, hips rolling so you could feel the full drag before he sank deep again. “How you take every inch of me like this.”
Your eyes started to close as the pleasure built your lashes felt heavy.
That slow grind against that perfect spot inside you made it hard to focus on anything else.
He noticed immediately, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw.
“C’mon, open those pretty eyes,” he urged softly, picking up the camera again, thumb stroking your cheek.
“Look at the camera for me, baby. I want to capture exactly how you look when I’m making love to you like this.”
You tried really tried, but another deep thrust made your lids drop again, a shaky whimper escaping. “I… I can’t… you feel too good. My eyes keep closing.”
His voice stayed gentle but firm, hips speeding up a bit. “I know it feels good, but I need you to look right here.” He tapped the lens lightly against your thigh.
“Open those pretty eyes. Let me see them while I take this one.”
You forced them open, vision hazy with pleasure, as you met the camera’s gaze he snapped another shot.
“That’s it. Good girl. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
He set the camera down for a moment, both hands returning to your body as he folded your legs higher. The new angle let him sink impossibly deeper with each slow stroke, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips.
“Feel that? How deep I am now? You’re swallowing me whole, princess.”
You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Yes, fuck! Right there.” You whined, all the pleasure making your eyes roll back.
He smiled, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue matched the rhythm of his hips. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, but he didn’t speed up. He wanted this to last.
Your free hand roamed his back, nails scraping when he hit that perfect spot inside you. He moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through the both of you.
“Right there?” he asked, angling his hips to repeat the motion. You nodded, and he focused there.
Jaafar grabbed the polaroid again, angling it to catch your face as ecstasy etched across your features.
"Eyes on the lens. C'mon, open those pretty eyes."
You managed to look vision blurred, as he captured the moment.
He snapped more close-ups of his cock sliding in and out, strings of your wetness stretching between you, your face twisted in pleasure with your mouth open in a moan.
"You’re so nasty letting me photograph you while I’m balls deep,” he said, throwing the camera aside again. "Doing so good for me. Gonna fill you up and watch it leak out.”
The pleasure coiled tighter with every deep thrust, his fingers laced with yours again as he guided you closer to the edge.
“I’m getting close,” you moaned.
“Sweet girl, I know but hold on a little longer,” he whispered, his voice thick with love and lust. His hips rolled deep, grinding just right.
His words were soft but commanding, his lips brushing your ear as he kept the same rhythm, refusing to let you tip over.
A broken moan escaped your lips. “I’m trying… you just feel so good.”
He kissed just below your ear. “I know, baby. And you’re taking it so well. My perfect muse, all spread open soaking my cock.”
“I want you to remember exactly how this feels how full you are, how wet you sound. Gonna look at those photos later and stroke myself thinking about the way you moaned for me.”
Your breath hitched as pleasure coiled tighter. He noticed the flutter around his cock and the way your thighs started to tremble.
“Look at that,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to watch himself disappear inside you again and again. “Taking every inch like you were made for it.”
You whimpered, your nails digging into his biceps. “Jaafar, I can’t hold on much longer… please.”
One hand slid under your lower back, lifting your hips while the other kept a wrist pinned your beside your head. "Just a little more," he murmured. "Feel every inch. I want you to remember how good we fit."
You arched into him, "Don’t stop talking to me."
His hips snapped forward slightly faster, the wet sound of your bodies filling the room growing louder. “Such a messy girl,” he said, grinding against your clit with each roll.
“You’re creaming all over me, soaking the sheets.”
He leans down, his mouth finding yours in a messy kiss, swallowing all your moans.
"I love you so much," he whispered against your lips between thrusts. "My sweet girl. My perfect, filthy muse."
You whined, your legs trembling as they rested over his shoulders. “I’m getting so close. Keep going, just like that.”
The position kept you pinned, legs spread wide, completely open to him. Jaafar’s eyes stayed locked on where you joined, occasionally flicking up to meet yours.
You felt your orgasm approaching fast, fed by the eye contact and his constant stream of praises. "You’re everything," he murmured.
"Every time I’m inside you, I remember how lucky I am. Come for me, let me feel it."
His thumb pressed on your clit, and your climax crashed through you, body shaking as you clenched around him.
As it hit, your whole body arched into him, and he groaned at the tight squeeze around his cock. "That’s it, come for me, good girllll."
“Let it all out. I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing your jaw.
"Fuck..Jaafar!" you cried out, voice breaking as your pussy pulsed hard around his cock.
He followed soon after, hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt coming with a low, drawn-out moan. He stayed close, forehead to yours, breathing through his release while still holding you tight.
He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, and your lips after a few seconds. "You okay?" he asked.
You nodded, smiling up at him. "More than okay. That was whew… I love when you talk me through it like that."
He chuckled softly. "Good. Because I’m not done yet."
A/n: i stay getting lazy at the end lmaooo but ENJOY <3
summary - after days apart, a facetime call with michael turns heated.
warnings — smut, profanity, pwp, mutual masturbation, phone sex, pet names, praise kink, established relationship, talking each other through it, risk of being caught & some spitting and squirting multiple i miss you’s because you two miss each other so much.
a/n : michael would’ve loved facetime idc & thank you guys for 500 followers <3
You sat at your vanity, organizing the drawers and lining up bottles of lotion and perfume in neat rows, but somehow the space still felt cluttered. You simply had too many things.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call. Michael’s name flashed across the screen.
A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed your phone and made your way to the bed before answering.
His face filled the frame right away, wearing that pretty smile you loved so much.
He’d been away on a business trip for days, and you’d spent most of the day thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing. Wondering if he missed you as much as you missed him.
“Hi, baby. I’ve missed you,” he said, adjusting the phone so you could see him better.
“I’ve missed you too, Mikey,” you replied. “It’s been boring without you here.”
He was wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt underneath and a black tie. The jacket fit perfectly, the collar slightly open.
Damn, he looked good. Like always.
“I’ve been wanting to see you all day.” He stood in the center of a dressing room, holding the phone out so the suit he was wearing was more visible.
“I’ve been wanting to see you too,” you admitted.
“They just finished the final adjustments. What do you think?
Your eyes moved over the way the material fit across his chest and down his arms. “Mhm. You look really good. It fits you perfectly.”
“I wanted your opinion before I decide whether I’m wearing it or not.”
“I love it,” you said. “I wish I were there to see it in person.“
He looked back at the screen, his expression softening. “I wish you were here too, baby.” He adjusted the phone slightly. “I wanted to show you first because I knew you’d be honest with me.”
“You just wanted an excuse to call me,” you teased.
“Maybe I did,” he admitted, a little grin forming. “What have you been doing today?”
“Not much. Just organizing my vanity,” you said, glancing over at the half finished drawers.
"Trying to stay busy so I don't spend the whole day thinking about how much I want you."
"You look so good I can't stop staring. I miss you a lot, Michael.”
He smiles, a flush creeping up his neck.
“I miss you too, more than you know. This trip feels longer each day. I keep thinking about your hands on me. You know every night I touch myself thinking of you.” He admits.
You bit your lip, thoughts drifting. The neediness you'd been pushing down all morning bubbled up as you suddenly got an idea.
“Do it again, like right now, on video,” you challenged.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh yeah?”
"Pull it out right now," you said, your pulse picking up. "Touch yourself, Mikey."
He glanced around the empty dressing room, then back at the phone. A shy laugh escaping him.
"Please? I miss every part of you."
He nods and starts reaching for his belt with his free hand.
All this distance had you so needy.
The buckle comes undone with a soft sound, followed by the zipper. He pushes the suit pants down just enough to free himself, his dick already half-hard from the conversation.
His hand wraps around the base, and he gives it a slow stroke. The head brushes against the camera before he pulls back, slapping it against the camera lens.
The sound of the slap comes through your speaker, accompanied by a low groan, “Like this, baby?” he asked, a bit breathless.
"Exactly like that," you breathe, watching every movement. Your own body responded fast, warmth spreading between your legs.
"Stroke it slow for me. I want to watch you get it all the way hard."
Michael obeys, his grip gliding up and down his length his thumb circles the tip on each pass, spreading the beads of wetness.
He leans his head back against the wall, eyes half-closed as he watches your face on the screen.
“Spit on it too,” you instruct him.
He brings the phone closer, leaning forward, letting a string of spit fall from his mouth onto the head of his cock.
The saliva runs down his shaft and he smears it with his palm, making everything slicker. His fist glides easier now as he starts stroking from base to tip, twisting a little at the top.
“I miss you so much, baby,” he says, his voice now rougher. “I miss the way you touch me. I wish it were your hand wrapped around me instead of mine.”
"I miss you too," you answer. “Especially how you taste. How you fill my mouth when I take you deep."
“Touch yourself with me. Put the phone down there," he says, voice thick. "Angle it so I can see everything."
You move the phone down towards your lower half, tilting it so it shows your skirt easily lifting when you spread your legs. He lets out a low sound at the sight.
"Fuck, baby, no panties? You're such a dirty girl," he murmurs, stroking himself faster at the view.
His dick twitches in his grip, the head shiny from precum and his spit. "Show me how wet you are."
Your hand slides down, fingers parting your folds. You circle your clit slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his strokes across the screen.
The wet sound of his hand moving carries through the speaker while your own breathing grows heavier.
“Push your fingers in deep and tell me how it feels." You do as he says, pressing two fingers inside, pumping slowly while your thumb keeps working your clit. "It's so wet my fingers slide right in," you breathe out.
Michael groans and strokes faster. "Good girl.”
"That's it," he encourages, smacking his cock against the phone once more. The wet slap echoes. "I wish this was your face. Smack it right there instead of this screen.”
"I miss the way your fingers stretch me open," you tell him, your voice breathy. The wet sounds grow louder as you pump your fingers in and out.
He whines, his grip tightening slightly. “Fuck, baby. Keep going. Tell me more.”
"If you were here right now i’d take you all the way to the back of my throat," you continue, eyes locked on the way his hand moves. "Let you feel how warm and wet my throat is."
"Describe every stroke while I fuck myself with my fingers."
His hand tightens around his shaft. "I'm gripping the base tight and sliding all the way up to the head, squeezing just under the tip the way you do with your mouth.”
“Now I'm stroking down slow, feeling it throb tell me how deep your fingers are inside you."
“They’re deep,” you reply, pushing them in and out faster while keeping the phone angled. “I’m curling them against that spot that makes my legs shake.”
“Rub your thumb over the head for me. Imagine it’s my tongue licking you there.” He does exactly that, thumb circling his slick head while he pumps his length.
"Fuck, that feels good. Now spread your legs wider and let me see you add another finger. I want to watch you stretch yourself open."
You obey, sliding another finger in with a soft moan. "I'm so full. Keep stroking faster for me. I want to hear how wet your cock sounds.”
He speeds up, the slick noises getting louder. “Rub your clit. Tell me how it feels."
"It feels so sensitive," you reply, doing as he says while your hips lift off the bed.
“Now I want you to fuck yourself faster with those fingers. Don't slow down until you come."
His hips buck up meeting his own strokes. "You're so fucking sexy like this. My dirty girl touching herself on camera for me."
"I miss being inside you. The way you clench around me when you're close. I miss the sounds you make when I hit that spot that makes your legs shake."
“I miss that too,” you say, watching his hand speed up. “The way you hold my hips and pull me down deeper, so deep that I can feel you in my stomach.”
He grips the phone tighter, whining. “Keep talking. I’m so close, but I don’t want to stop yet.”
"Don't stop," you urge him. "I want to see you come all over that pretty white shirt. Paint it for me."
“You're doing so well," you praised. "Edge it for me. Stop for a second and just hold it."
His grip tightened at the base to hold off. His chest rose and fell quickly. "This is driving me crazy. I wish it was your hand instead."
"Soon," you promised. "Stroke it once, slow. Imagine if I was there right now, on my knees with my mouth open for you."
A whimper escapes his lips. “Fuck, sweetheart. If you were here, I’d have you against that wall with your legs wrapped around my waist.”
"You throbbing inside me," you continue. "The way you be pulsing when you're about to come so i’d clench around you and make you lose it.”
"My goodness," he muttered. "Feels so much better when you talk me while i do it."
"I know, baby. Now speed up a bit. Not too fast yet.”
More moans slip out as he follows your words.
Your thighs tremble as you work him and yourself closer, the pressure coiling tight in your core.
His breathing turns ragged on the other end, his dick pulsing visibly in his fist.
"I wish I could feel your lips right here."
You watch the way his cock bounces back after each smack against the screen, the motion making his shaft twitch visibly.
"Do it again," you tell him. "Smack it right where my mouth would be.”
He obeys, bringing the head down against the screen three more times, each impact sending a soft thud through the call.
His strokes resume after the last smack, grip sliding from base to tip with more urgency .
"Keep telling me what you'd do if you were here,“ he begs.
"I'd let you rub it all over my face first," you say, watching every twitch. "Then I'd suck you in deep and hold you there until you can't take it."
Michael's hips jerk forward at your words, another wet smack landing against the phone.
“Shit, that sounds so good. I miss your tongue sliding under me the way you look up at me when you're on your knees."
He keeps the rhythm going, alternating between long strokes and quick smacks against the screen.
"Need to feel you right now," he says again, voice breaking a little. "I miss everything about you."
He tilts his head back, his throat bobbing, the phone framing the scene perfectly.
Your hand moves quicker between your legs, fingers plunging in and out while your thumb keeps working your clit.
"I'm getting close. Tell me when you're about to come so we can do it together."
"I'm right there,“ he says, his strokes turning erratic, making the chair creak softly under him.
He keeps his eyes locked on you as your fingers work frantically. Your orgasm hits, your walls pulsing hard around your fingers.
A rush of liquid follows, spraying out across your hand and the sheets while you keep rubbing yourself through the wave.
The squirt hits the camera just as his own release hits at the same time, thick ropes shooting across his hand and shirt, some landing on the phone screen itself as he kept stroking himself through it.
His own release slows, cum dripping down his fingers as he strokes out the last bit drawing out every pulse until he's spent, chest rising and falling fast.
For a moment neither of you speak. Michael chuckles looking at the mess he made with a sheepish grin.
"You're nasty, you know that?"
“Just for you,” you giggle, pulling your fingers out and sucking on them while still watching him.
ps- everyone say thank you @imsuchatyrant she gave me the INSPIRATION with her freaky ass.
pairing - college nerd! jaafar jackson x black fem!reader
rating - explicit (18+)
word count - 3.4k
summary - after finding jaafar’s journal, you have to find out for yourself if he’s really as innocent as everyone thinks.
warnings - smut, profanity, secrecy, invasion of privacy, he’s not as innocent as they said, you should’ve minded your business, obsessive thoughts, p in v, spitting, hair pulling, imagination and pet names, spanking, praise just filth
A/n: my first Jaafar fic i hope you all enjoy it! 😋
Jaafar’s dorm looked like it always did: textbooks everywhere, half-empty water bottles scattered around, and sketches covering half of his desk.
You’d been in his dorm for about twenty minutes while he went to look for the charger he swore he left in one of his friend’s rooms. The second the door shut behind him, your eyes drifted toward one of his dressers. One of the drawers was slightly open, just enough for you to catch sight of something black tucked inside.
You knew you probably shouldn’t look, but curiosity got the best of you. Rumors about Jaafar had always been weird. Half the girls on campus swore he was innocent to the point of being clueless, just some shy little architecture nerd who spent more time studying than doing anything else.
Before you could really think about it, you reached into the drawer and pulled the journal out.
The leather felt worn beneath your fingers, the edges softened like he’d opened it a hundred times before.
A bookmark stuck out near the middle. You hesitated for a second before flipping to that page and starting to read.
The very first line made your stomach tighten instantly.
You stared at the page, rereading it slower this time. Then it hit you the conversation from the other day.
You and your friend, laughing, talking about him without thinking much of it. Your stomach dropped as the words clicked into place. He wasn’t talking about some random girl. He was talking about you.
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the journal. After a moment, you flipped to the next page anyway, too curious to see what else he had written about you.
There are pages and pages of more, each entry more explicit than the last. He describes you in vivid detail, the way you move, the sounds you'd make, the things he wants to do to your body every filthy scenario.
The door handle rattled, and you shoved the journal back into the drawer as quickly as you could, closing it, your heart in your ass as Jaafar stepped inside, holding the charger. You quickly tried to act normal.
“Found it,” he said, voice soft like always. But now you knew what lived behind that softness.
“Sorry it took so long. After I got the charger, I stopped to grab a drink,” he said. “The machine was out of my favorite, so I had to-” He stopped suddenly, his eyes landing on you.
Something flickered across his face. “You okay? You look… kinda flushed.”
“Ohhh, I’m fine,” you said too quickly. “It’s just a little hot in here, you know.”
He paused, studying you. His gaze flicked to the dresser drawer, now shut a little too neatly.
"You sure?" He pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger.
“Just thinking,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if you hadn’t just read about him wanting to fuck you.
His head tilted slightly. "About what?"
Your pulse hammered. The air in the room felt thicker. You were thinking about his words.
Oh … fuck it.
"About this," you said, reaching into the draw pulling the journal from its hiding spot.
His face went pale. His mouth opening and closing for a second he looked like a deer caught in headlights. "That's you shouldn't-"
"I read it." Your voice came out steadier than you expected, though your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.
"All of it. Well, most of it.”
"That's private you know."
"Really?" You held the journal up, your thumb brushing over the worn leather. "Because it sounds like you've been thinking about me a lot. In very un-private ways."
His jaw tightened. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Then he set the charger down as he took a step toward you.
"You think you know me," he said, his voice lower now, rougher. "You think I'm just the shy, nerdy guy who can't talk to girls. Who couldn't possibly have a single filthy thought in his head."
"I did think that," you admitted, your heart racing. "Until I found this."
He stopped in front of you, close enough that you could smell his cologne.
"So now you know." His hand reached out, and for a moment you thought he was going to take the journal. Instead, his fingers brushed against yours, trailing up your wrist.
"Now you know what I think about when I can't sleep. What I think about when you're sitting right next to me, laughing at something stupid, and all I can imagine is bending you over and fucking you until you scream."
Your breath hitched. Gosh, you wanted him to fuck you. His hand kept moving, sliding up your arm, over your shoulder, until his fingers tangled gently in the hair at the nape of your neck.
"Go ahead," he murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Tease me. Laugh at me. Tell me I'm a pathetic pussy for writing all of that down instead of doing anything about it."
Suddenly, you felt the need to push him more.
“Everyone thinks you’re so innocent,” you said, throwing the journal down on the bed, trailing your hand down his arm and letting a hint of mockery slip into your voice.
“Sweet, shy Jaafar. You probably never even kissed a girl, right?” You paused, watching his reaction. “But here you are, writing about putting me through the mattress.”
His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
"Say that again?"
You smiled, feeling the thrill of pushing his buttons. "Sweet, shy Jaafar-"
He pulled you hard against his chest, his mouth crashing into yours. He kissed you all demanding, hungry, nothing like the shy boy who can barely hold eye contact. His hands weaved into your curls, his fingers twisting the strands pulling but not hard enough to hurt, but enough to let you know who's in control here.
“Bet,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m going to show your ass.”
“Yes, please,” you smirked, giving him all the consent he needed.
He effortlessly lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed. Thankfully, he had a full-sized bed, unlike those tiny ass dorm beds you couldn’t stand. You were so grateful that this college allowed you to choose different-sized beds.
"You talked about me too. I didn’t forget ," he says, climbing onto the bed after you, settling between your legs. "I heard you. The other day with your little friend. You said I was probably inexperienced."
"You think I'm all talk?" he said, pulling his belt free letting it drop to the floor. "You think I don't know what to do with a woman?"
He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs.
"Let me show you exactly what I've been writing about."
He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one motion. Then your bra, his fingers working the clasp with ease..
He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his thumb worked the other. The sensation shooting straight to your pussy.
"Fuck," you gasped.
“That’s just the beginning,” he mumbled, pulling back.
He worked his way down your body, kissing, biting, leaving marks. When he reached your pants, he unbuttoned them and tugged them down your legs, along with your panties.
He sat back, staring at you lying bare before him.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Even better than I imagined."
He leaned forward, his mouth hovering inches from your pussy. "You're gonna taste so good."
But instead of diving in, he sat up again, reaching for his journal on the bed. He opened it to a marked page.
"I wrote this one down a few weeks ago," he said. " m’gonna show you how it goes."
He tossed the journal to the side, sliding his palms up the insides of your thighs, spreading you further until you were completely exposed to him.
Leaning in, he dragged his tongue in one long, slow stroke from your entrance up to your clit.
You gasped. He didn’t give you time to recover. He licked again, firmer this time, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips. One hand stayed on your thigh, holding you open. The other slid two fingers through your slick and pushed inside without warning.
“Shit…Jaafar.”
His fingers curled, finding that spot inside you that made your vision blur. He pumped them steadily, tongue never stopping its attention to your clit.
“Put your hands above your head,” he said against your skin. “If you move them I’ll stop.”
You obeyed instantly, fingers twisting into the sheets above you. Jafaar rewarded you by adding a third finger, stretching you open while his tongue worked faster. The wet sounds filled the small room his mouth on you, your own desperate breathing, the slick slide of his fingers.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered. “Been wanting to bury my face here since the first time I saw you in those shorts. Thought about it every night. Jerked off coming all over my chest thinking about how you’d sound when I made you come on my tongue.”
Your back arched off the bed. The pressure was building so fast, coiling tight in your lower belly. Jaafar felt it. He sucked harder on your clit crooking his fingers just right.
“You gonna come already? Go ahead then. Let me feel it.”
Your thighs clamped around his head as the orgasm ripped through you, hips bucking against his mouth. He licked you through it, fingers still moving, drawing it out until you were shaking.
He slowly pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth, sucking on them. He makes a low, appreciative sound.
"Taste better than I imagined."
His chin was shiny with your slick. He wiped it with the back of his hand, eyes never leaving yours.
“Still with me?” he asked.
You nodded, breathless.
“Good because i wanna do more.”
He stood up and removed everything except his cardigan and shirt. He pushed his pants down, along with his boxers.
His cock sprung free, settling against his belly button, thick and already leaking at the tip. He wrapped a hand around the base and gave it a slow stroke as he hopped back on the bed.
The sight makes your mouth water. He's not small. Not by a long shot.
“See what you do to me?” he said. “Been hard since I walked in and saw you looking all guilty.”
He leaned down and spat directly onto your pussy. The warm saliva trickled down and he caught it with two fingers, pushing them back inside you.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he murmured. “All puffy and wet, you’re so tight,” he said. “Gonna feel so good around my cock.”
He worked his fingers in and out a few more times, scissoring them to stretch you. Then he pulled them free and lined himself up.
He pushes in slowly, letting you feel every inch. He's bigger than you expected, stretching you in a way that borders on too much, but he doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt.
Your hands fly up, gripping his shoulders.
“Fuck! Jaafar, you’re so big!” You mewl.
“I know, sweetheart, but you can take me.”
“Can’t you?” he asks, pausing for a moment.
“Yes, I can take it, pleaseeee.”
“Goddamn,” he groaned, biting his lip to stifle a whimper. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Like you don’t want to let me go.” He stills, letting you adjust.
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs. "Wanted you for so long. You have no idea what it was like watching you walk around.”
“Knowing I couldn’t have you, everyone thought I was too soft, too gentle to pull you.”
"But I'm not," he continues, his rhythm building. "I'm not gentle. I'm not soft. I'm the guy who's been fantasizing about fucking you into this mattress for months."
He reaches up and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his hips thrusting into you with urgency.
“I want you” you whined.
His speed picks up, each thrust harder than the last. The bed creaks beneath you. Your hands find the sheets once more, gripping them as he takes you apart.
"Tell me I'm innocent now," he growls, driving into you.
"Tell me I'm inexperienced."
You can barely form words. "You're not ah fuck-"
"That's right." He leans over, his mouth at your ear.
a/n: (if ykyk)
"I've been dreaming about having you in this position.”
He pulls out, and before you can protest, he's turning you over, pushing you onto your stomach. He grabs your hips, pulling them up, positioning you on your side.
As he moved you into position you had one knee bent forward, the other leg stretched straight.
Jaafar stays upright behind you on his knees. His cardigan brushing your lower back every time he shifts.
He grips the base of his cock and lines up again, pressing the swollen head against your entrance until it parts you.
He pushes in slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein stretch your walls. The angle from this height drives him straight forward instead of down so the pressure against your front walls build fast.
He bottoms out and holds there, hips flush to your ass. One hand stays planted on your hip. The other lifts and comes down hard across your right cheek. The slap cracks through the room. Heat blooms under your skin and you jerk forward moaning but his grip keeps you in place.
“Fuck,” he mutters, watching the print rise. He pulls back until only the head stays inside, then drives forward again.
“I love the way your ass jiggles.” You wiggle your ass in response, and he spanks you again, this time lower, catching the curve where your ass meets your thigh.
The sting mixes with the thick slide of his cock making you clench around him.
His knees stay planted wide for leverage. The wet sound of your pussy gripping him grows louder with each pass. He reaches down, spreading your cheeks with one hand, watching the way his cock disappeared inside you.
“Keep your leg up,” he says. You hook your top knee higher and he groans when the new angle lets him sink another half inch. His big palm cracks across your ass again, harder, the sound sharp. Your skin burns and you push back into the next thrust without thinking.
He leans forward, chest hovering over your back but never dropping his weight.
He pulls your hair next. His fingers gather your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, tugging your head back until your neck arches. The pull makes your spine curve. He uses the new angle to fuck you harder, the head of his cock dragging across that spongy spot inside you every stroke.
He spanks you again, open palm, right where the skin is already tender. Your ass jiggles under the impact, and he watches it ripple.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Full,” you answer. “Deep, so deep.”
"You like that?" He was breathing hard, his lip tucked between his teeth.
"You like being taken like this? Like being treated like the filthy little fantasy you read about?"
“Yes, oh… Fuck, yes.”
“Right there,” you whine as he hits your g-spot.
"Yeah?" He focuses his thrusts, aiming for that spot. "Right there, Mama?"
"Yes, yes, fuck, Jaafar, right there."
He starts to move long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. You could feel the muscles in his thighs flexing against the backs of your legs.
Your mouth keeps falling open. You reach back and grab his wrist where he’s holding your hip.
He pulls almost all the way out, pauses, then slams back in until his hips smack your ass. The force rocks you forward. He does it again, slower this time, letting you feel every inch leave and return. Your walls flutter around him and he groans, low and rough.
“Gonna come if you keep squeezing me like that,” he warns.
“Then come,” you say. “I want it.”
He shakes his head once. “Not yet.” He leaves you empty for three long seconds, then pushes back in with one smooth stroke.
The sudden fullness makes you gasp. He spanks you twice quickly, left then right, the slaps landing on already heated skin.
“Fuck, listen to that creamy ass pussy you just creaming on me, baby,” he panted. “Taking every inch like you were made for it. Bet you’ve been thinking about this too, haven’t you? Wondering what it would feel like to have me buried in you.”
All that came out of your mouth were broken moans.
His glasses slide down his nose, and you reach back to push them up, settling the frames back into place.
“Thanks, baby.” He grunts out, hypnotized by the way your pussy is swallowing his cock.
He spits down, this time directly onto where you're joined, the wetness combining with where you're already slick. "That's fucking perfect," he groans.
He reaches down, grabs your ankle, and lifts your straight leg higher so your thighs open wider. The new position lets him bottom out completely.
He stops and flips you onto your back. His cock is still hard, glistening with your white slick. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, leaning down, folding you in half like a pretzel.
“Wanna see your pretty face closer,” he said.
He slid back inside with a smooth thrust. The new angle made him go so deep that you could swear you felt him in your throat. His pubic bone pressed against your clit with every stroke.
The little chain he always wore dangled in front of you, and you took that as an opportunity to suck it into your mouth while staring him dead in the eyes.
“You look so fucking sexy with my chain in your mouth. Fucking hell.”
As you held the chain in your mouth, he moaned, “Tell me how it feels.”
“So fucking good,” you managed. “Don’t stop please don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping until you come on this cock,” he promised.
The filthy promise sent another wave of heat through you. Jaafar’s rhythm grew rougher.
You both didn’t care that people could hear you two outside the dorm. Now, they’ll finally know that he’s not all sweet and innocent. The wet sound of skin on skin filled the room.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you moan like that. To feel you clench around me. To watch your tits bounce while I fuck you senseless."
Another spank lands, this one lower, catching the side of your thigh. The sting travels straight to your pussy, and you clamp down around him. He curses under his breath and fucks you through the squeeze, his cock twitching inside you.
"Squeezing me so good, fuck," he grunted. "This is exactly what I fantasize about every night. You here in my room, taking me like a good girl."
You moaned, unable to form words. The pleasure was building, coiling tight in your belly.
"You like being fucked by the shy nerd, don't you?" he said, lightly slapping your face.
"The one everyone thinks is so damn inexperienced. Tell me how much you like it."
"I love it," you gasped. “You’re fucking me so good, shit.”
"Louder."
"I LOVE IT!"
He lowers his head, kissing you, swallowing your moans. His tongue slides against yours as he pulls back a little to bring his fingers down between your legs. More wetness spreads over your clit as he rubs it in, circles it with his thumb.
"So fucking nasty," you breathe.
"You like it."
He's right. You do. The wetness, the slick sound of his hand moving against you, the way his eyes watch his own fingers work.
He removes his fingers, placing them in his mouth, sucking his fingers clean.
“Tastes so fucking good.”
He pounds into you, faster, harder, and you can feel yourself tightening around him as he hits your sweet spot perfectly.
"I'm gonna—" you start.
"I know." He reaches down and presses on your lower stomach, right above where he's buried inside you. "I can feel it. You're squeezing me so fucking tight."
Your hands find his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his cardigan, the one he’s still wearing. The contrast is absurd: this nerdy, shy-looking boy in only a shirt and cardigan, fucking you into the mattress as if he’s been waiting for years.
"Come for me," he says, and his voice cracks on the last word, breaking the facade for just a second. "Please, I need to feel you come on my dick."
The please does it.
You come hard, your back arching, your nails digging into his shoulders through the wool. He keeps fucking you through it, drawing it out, and you can hear yourself making sounds you've never made before.
"That's it, that's it, fuck." He's close, you can tell by the way his rhythm stutters, the way his breath catches. "Where do you want it?" He was going to nut in you anyways, but he still wanted to ask you.
“I’m on the pill. In me.”
He comes with a groan that's almost a whimper, burying his face in your neck as he pumps into you.
You can feel him, hot and thick, filling you up, your walls clenching around him as he spills inside you. His whole body shaking from the force of it.
For a long moment neither of you moved. The only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant noise of campus life outside the window.
"Holy shit," he murmurs against your skin.
He eases out carefully. A trickle of his cum follows, sliding down your spent pussy. He watches it with heavy-lidded eyes before reaching down and pushing it back inside you with two fingers.
“Keep that in there,” he said quietly. “Want you to feel it for the rest of the day.”
The lens of his glasses is fogged up. He collapses beside you, one arm draped over your waist.
You turned your head to look at him. “So… everyone’s wrong about you.”
summary - michael catches you masturbating and he just can’t look away.
warnings — masturbation, voyeurism, oral (reader receiving), p in v, sub!michael (he begs + crawls), top!reader, facial (he nuts on your face), michael is inexperienced but also kinda isn’t, praise, desperation, again..lots of begging, multiple thank you’s and please’s + a little choking & finger sucking.
A/n : this was requested but i also wanna dedicate this to @enzo6ekiii 🫶🏿 happy birthday!!! I had so much fun writing subby mike i need him so bad.
You were laid out, your legs parted, head thrown back against a pillow, eyes half-closed as you worked yourself closer to the edge.
Your fingers moved slowly, circling your swollen clit. Too lost in your own pleasure, you didn’t hear the footsteps on the carpet.
Michael had been walking through the hallway, his mind still spinning from the session earlier.
He’d almost passed your door when he caught it low moans and soft, wet sounds that stopped him in his tracks.
The crack in the door was barely two inches wide, but it was enough. He leaned closer before he could stop himself, peering through the gap. The sight on the other side had his cock throbbing instantly.
His breath caught in his throat. You were on your back, your shirt had ridden up, exposing the curve of your stomach.
Your panties were pushed to one side, revealing the slick folds of your pussy. Your fingers glistened as they worked, two of them sliding through your wetness, spreading it over your clit.
The sight of your pretty pussy, all swollen, the little nub peeking out, wet and shiny, made his mouth fill with saliva.
He could see the way your hips rolled, the way your hole clenched around nothing, the way a clear string stretched between your fingers and your slit.
He quickly pulled himself out, thick, aching, pre-cum already beading at the tip as he began to stroke, matching your rhythm. He bit his lip to silence the groan that wanted to tear out of him; you looked so good like that.
His eyes stayed locked on your pussy the way your fingers disappeared inside you. He loved the way your thighs trembled.
You circled your clit with your thumb while your other hand pressed deeper, two fingers, then three, stretching yourself open. Your head was thrown back, your mouth open, your breath coming in little gasps.
His own strokes grew rougher as he pumped himself fast, his palm slick. He was so turned on that he leaked clear, sticky beads that dripped to the carpet.
He pictured his mouth on your pussy, your legs over his shoulders, grinding against his face as he licked and sucked.
His hips twitched forward too far, bumping the door, causing it to creak open.
You froze, staring at the door. Realizing who it was, you pulled the sheets up to your chin. “Michael?”
His curls were a halo around his face, damp at the temples.
His jeans were unbuttoned, his cock jutting out from the fly, his fist wrapped around his shiny shaft. He had been stroking himself while he watched you.
“I’m sorry…”
“Please don’t make me go. I need to touch you. Please.”
He wanted to back away, but his feet seemed glued to the floor. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, his hand remaining wrapped around his length.
“You were watching me,” you said, your voice low. “You were listening.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I heard a sound. I thought you might’ve been… then I saw you and I couldn't stop. I'm sorry.”
You didn’t tell him to get out. You didn’t say anything. You just pulled the sheets down, moving your hand back down to your pussy, the wetness coating your fingers again. You spread your legs a little wider, a silent invitation.
“Let me come in. Please. I’ll get on my knees. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me taste you. I’ll be so good.”
“Seeing you with your fingers inside like that, I thought I’d lose my mind. I want to be the one making you drip like that.”
“You think you deserve that?” you asked.
“No,” he said. “I don’t deserve anything. But I’ll earn it. I’ll beg. I’ll do anything. Please. I see how wet you are. I want to feel that around my tongue.”
You crooked a finger. “Come here.”
Michael let out a sound that was half whimper, half groan. He pushed the door open, but he didn’t walk. He knelt, his knees hitting the floor with a thud. He crawled across the carpet and onto your bed, where you were.
“I’m sorry for watching, but I’m not sorry for wanting you. I can’t be sorry for that.“
You reached up and gently grabbed his hair. His eyes rolled up to meet yours, wide and pleading.
“Tell me what you want, Mikey,” you said, brushing a curl from his forehead.
“I want… I want to touch you,” he stammered, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “I’ve thought about it so many times seeing you like this.“
“You can touch me.”
When his fingers finally brushed against your soaked pussy, he moaned, his fingers pressing deeper, sliding through your folds, gathering the slickness. He watched his hand move, fascinated, his brows furrowing in concentration.
“Is that good, Mama?”
“Tell me what to do.”
“Rub my clit,” you murmured, your voice husky. “Right where my fingers were. Move in slow circles.”
He found it immediately, his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub; he began to move in circles.
His touch was clumsy at first, too light, then too firm, but he watched your face for cues, adjusting when you gasped or arched. Learning you with every stroke.
“Yes,” you breathed, “like that, but faster.”
A low moan rumbled from his throat when your hips bucked into his hand.
“Oh my, you’re so wet. You’re so… I can’t think.”
“You don’t need to think,” you said, tangling your fingers in his hair again.
“You need to listen. Do what I say.”
“Yes,” he whispered against your skin. “Anything. Tell me. Please.”
You guided his hand, letting his fingers slip inside you. He gasped at the tightness and the slick grip.
“I want to taste you,” he begged, coming up from between your legs, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please. Let me taste you.”
You nodded, and he slid back down your body, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your ribs, your belly, until he settled between your thighs again.
His tongue was hesitant at first, a kitten’s lick, testing. You bucked your hips, and he let out a desperate sound as he dove in.
His nose was bumping against your clit, as he lapped at your folds, groaning into you. His large hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured your pussy.
“Yes,” you gasped, grinding against his face. “Yes, just like that. Please don’t stop.”
He ate you like you were the only meal he’d ever need. His tongue circled your clit, flicking, pressing into you as he sucked gently, then harder, using his fingers to spread you open so he could get deeper.
“More,” you gasped.
He obeyed immediately, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking while his fingers pushed inside you, two of them.
You were tight, hot, clenching around him. He groaned against your flesh.
“Am I doing it right?” he asked, pulling back just enough to speak.
“Is this good enough?”
“Yes-fuck, yes-”
“I love hearing you say that. I love knowing I’m the one doing this to you. “Please keep making those sounds.”
He buried his face in you again, licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until your thighs began to tremble, until your back arched off the mattress, until you screamed his name coming undone against his mouth.
He sucked up every bit, licking you through your orgasm until you pushed him away, oversensitive.
He came up from between your legs, his chin glistening, his eyes dazed. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for letting me do that.”
“Can I be inside you now?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “Please. I’ll be so gentle. I’ll last as long as you want. Just tell me yes.”
“I want it so bad,” he said. “I think about you all the time. Every night. I touch myself thinking about your mouth, your hands, your…please, I’m begging you. Let me fuck you. I’ll be so good. I’ll do exactly what you say.”
“You will,” you agreed, and you guided him onto his back, tugging his pants further down, then climbing over him, straddling his hips, your pussy brushing against the length of his cock.
He moaned, his hands flying to your waist, but you pinned them above his head.
“No touching and no moving,” you said. “Unless I say so.”
He nodded, his chest heaving. “Yes. Yes, okay. I won’t move.”
You lowered yourself slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure as you sank down onto him, inch by inch. He was so big, filling you completely, and you both moaned when you were fully seated.
“Look at me, Mikey,” you commanded. “I want you to watch me ride your cock.”
His eyes were locked on you, big and wide, his mouth open. You began to move, grinding against him. His breath came in short, desperate gasps; pleas and praises spilled from his lips.
“Oh, my…yes, so tight you feel so good. Please, please.”
You rode him with your hands braced on his chest. “You feel amazing, Michael,” you said. “So good inside me. Such a good boy.”
He whimpered at the praise, his hips bucking up into you despite his promise. You slapped his chest lightly. “I said no moving.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You’re too perfect. Please let me move just a little.”
“No. You take what I give you. And you’re going to come when I tell you to. Understood?”
“Yes,” he whined.
He dropped his head to your shoulder, biting back a cry. “Fuck, baby,” “You feel..l I can’t hold on much more.”
“You can and you will.”
You kept him on the edge, riding him faster, then slower, until he was a mess.
“Please let me come, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll worship you forever, please.”
You slowed your pace, a teasing smile on your lips.
“Not yet. I want to hear you beg a little more.”
“I need it, please. I’ll be good.”
Leaning forward, you brought one hand to his throat, squeezing as your fingers curled against the sides of his neck.
"Quiet," you whispered, your other hand lifting to his mouth. "Open."
His lips parted, and you slid two fingers past them. He hollowed his cheeks as he sucked your fingers, his saliva coating your fingers.
You pressed your palm a little firmer against his throat, not enough to cut off air, but enough to make him feel the pressure to remind him who was in control.
He moaned around your fingers, the vibration traveling up your arm. When his hips bucked, you tightened your grip on his throat in warning.
"That's it," you said. "Suck. Good boy, Mikey."
He kept sucking eagerly, his tongue swirling, his eyes rolling back. You rode him through it, your hips rolling in lazy circles, feeling the way his cock twitched inside you.
The combination of your hand on his throat and your fingers in his mouth had him utterly undone.
He was so vocal it was so sexy; every thrust drew more pleas and whimpers from him.
His hands roamed your hips, your breasts, your thighs, breaking his promise, but he never tried to control the pace. He let you take what you wanted.
You pulled your fingers free with a soft pop, replacing them with your thumb, dragging it across his lower lip.
“You’re riding me so good, ma,” he gasped. “I won’t last much longer, please. Tell me when and tell me how you want it.”
“I want you to come all over my face,” you said, and his eyes went wide as he nodded frantically.
“Yes. Yes. Whatever you want.”
You rode him harder, faster, until you felt him stiffen beneath you. “I’m going to, I’m so close, please.”
You pulled off, rolling onto your back, pulling him with you. He hovered over your face, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping his dick. He was slick with your wetness, throbbing.
“Is this..are you sure?”
“Yes, give it to me. I want it all,” you said, licking your lips and sticking your tongue out.
He cried out as his body tensed, his cock jerking. The first rope of cum hit your lips, warm and thick.
The second landed across your cheek, the third on your chin, the fourth across your nose and eyebrow.
“Thank you,” he gasped. “Thank you, thank you.”
He kept pumping, milking himself, more spurts landing on your tongue, your forehead, your throat.
He collapsed on his knees, his chest heaving, his cock still dripping.
He looked down at you, your face dripping with his release, his cum running down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. You wiped your mouth, bringing your hand to your lips, licking a stripe of his cum off your fingers.
As he watched you do that a fresh wave of arousal flowed through him.
“That was the first time… no one has ever… was I okay?”
He rested his forehead against your shoulder, his breath ragged.
You lifted his chin, making him look at you, at the mess he’d made. “You did so fucking good,” you said softly, and he smiled.
“You were more than okay,” you said.
“I’m going to go grab a rag from the bathroom.”
“Okay,” you whispered back.
A few minutes later, he came back with a warm rag in his hand.
He pulled you closer as he carefully wiped his release from your face.
When he was done, he curled up against you, his hand splayed across your stomach, his lips pressed to your shoulder, still whispering lots of thanks to you.
♥︎
A/n : i lowkey got lazy at the end sorry guys 😭😭 <333
