Kyomi ۶ৎ

۶ৎ

[sturngrande]

• ♫⋆. ♪ ₊˚ ♬ ˚.  𓂃 hands on me ۶ৎ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| |

𓂃 𐙚 kyomi. 2 0. ariana grande. girly girl. baby pink. matts pretty girl. sonny angels. hello kitty. strawberry scented. bunnies. nyc. shawn hatosy. frilly skirts. babydoll tops. steve harrington. sparkly lip-gloss. madison beer. sturniolo triplets. heated rivalry. hudson williams. dennis whitaker. jaafar jackson. michael jackson.

𝜗𝜚 ⋮ ⋆° masterlist. au catalog.

[babythugga]

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… headcanons.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ / special affair - the internet

⌗ :: @cravemyhoney || @arielletheemermaidd || @6ultforb3yonc3 || @wlwluva || @saints4record || @soft4bey || @rihyoncemakessmewet || @its-medestinyyy ||(my b-day masterlist.)

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who spots you on the first day of the semester and spends the whole lecture fighting not to stare too hard at the way you bite your lip when you concentrate.

every time you raise your hand and give an answer, her dick twitches under the desk and she hides her filthy little smile behind her mug pretending she isn’t already soaked in her own cum, just thinking about bending you over after class.

by the end she has your name burned into her brain without ever glancing at the sheet because she cant stop imagining how it would sound when she makes you moan it.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who swears to herself that she will keep everything professional.

no extra talks, no late emails, no pulling you aside but the second you slip into her office hours with that shy smile, she breaks her own promise. she sits behind her desk with her legs spread just enough while you ask about the assignment and her hand slips down to stroke her dick through her pants.

she keeps her voice steady asking questions that have nothing to do with the work just so she can watch your mouth move while she leaks all over her fingers under the desk getting off on how innocent you look right there in front of her.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who makes sure she is the last one leaving the building every night because she knows you stay buried in the library until late.

those lil walks to the parking lot start happening more and more and she pretends it’s coincidence while her mind races with how easy it would be to push you against her car and stuff her needy dick inside you right there in the dark.

she stays hard the whole way listening to your voice feeling like she might whimper if she doesn’t get to touch you soon.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who fights herself for weeks because she knows this could ruin her career but every glance at you drags on too long and her dick stays half hard in her slacks no matter how much she tells herself to stop. she catches herself palming her bulge between classes just thinking about the way your ass would look stretched around her.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who insists on keeping everything quiet at first. still every secret touch in her office makes her want you even more, her hands gripping you tighter. she couldn’t get enough of how warm and tight you feel around her throbbing dick.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who introduces you as just a friend whenever someone from the university walks by and every single time she sees that little hurt flash across your face, it twists something deep in her chest even though she knows why it has to be this way for now.

later,, she pulls you close later in private to make up for it fucking into you while she whispers how badly she needs you, wants you, adores you and how she wants you to carry her kids.

OLDERPROFESSOR!BEYONCÉ… who, one night right after you finish your test makes you stay behind in the empty classroom because she locked the door, the second the last student left. she doesn’t even wait to clear the desk just shoves the papers aside and bends you over it.

face down ass up with your skirt flipped high.

her hands shake a little from how bad she craves your pussy. “mmmmm fuck..” she whimpers pushing in slow at first then harder when you push back on her. she leans over you groaning against your neck as her voice crack with every thrust as she fucks you right on top of the test papers you just handed in.

[thebluediner]

GOING ON TOUR WITH KWN HEADCANONS

you watch meet-and-greets like a crow. kwn smirks every time someone flirts with her just to see your reaction. later in the green room: ''you know they only get to scream my name. you get to make me say yours.”

on stage kwn is confident, cocky and the center of attention. on the bus though she's whining ''baby can you braid my hair'' and falling asleep on your lap while the band watches in disbelief.

kwn always finds you in the crowd or at the side of the stage. the show immediately becomes a hundred times more filthier. the crowd thinks it’s for them. It’s not.

fights before the show are silent for peace sakes but the tension in the dressing room is still there. you cross your arms on the couch. kwn tries to apologise but the stage manager yells ''two minutes!'' she goes out and performs aggressively practically singing to you. backstage kiss after though.

kwn writes an unreleased track about her girlfriend and plays it during soundcheck when she thinks no one is listening. you hear from the hallway.

right after stepping off stage, kwn goes straight to you and collapses right in your chest as sweaty, clingy, adrenaline-drunk as she is like '' I did good , yeah ?''

tour is draining for everyone so of course when you two argue everyone on set definitely knows so know each room you both walk in on is suddenly very tense.

kwn who hums to the beats sent by her producers late in their hotel room while you listen trying not to fall asleep .

sorry it's so short:(

[theesoulaaniarchive]

her muse - kwn

“passion & desire, baby”

word count: 831. cw (content warning): pussy eating, blkfem!reader, bottom!reader, top!kwn synopsis: you visit k while she's in the studio.

songs that inspired this: come see me - jill scott

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🫦

enjoy. 💋

you just got home after a long day of running errands, a nando's bag in one hand, your phone in the other. you heard music coming from the basement, where k's studio was.

"no way she's been in there this whole time," you thought.

you set your phone on the kitchen island before making your way downstairs to k. sure enough, there she was. she always looked so sexy when she was focused, whether is was in the gym or here, in the studio.

"baby," you called out, making k snap out of her hyper-focused trance. she turned around in her chair. "hi" she said as you walked over to give her a kiss and set the bag down on the desk. "i got you nando's." you took a seat on the desk.

"thank you."

"you've been down here the entire time i've been gone?" you asked.

"how long have you been gone?"

"at least a few hours." you folded your arms casually.

"damn. time flies when you’re working hard, innit?"

"i know that's right. what've you been working on?"

k turns her attention to her laptop. "i finished a few songs. i just made a new one, it's called 'rodeo.' you wanna hear it?" she asked. "hell yeah, i wanna hear it." you said.

she pressed the space bar and the song started playing.

you were silently vibing along when a particular lyric caught your attention. "i got one hand goin' south, and the other in your mouth, oh babe." it brought you back to a specific night out you and k had at the club. that was the night that you had sex in the car for the first time. the driver probably heard, but you didn’t care at the time.

soon, the song ended. "i'm still working on it, it's missing something. what do you think?" k got up to grab a water from the mini fridge.

"i like it. i noticed you've been in the studio a little more often lately" you said as she took a sip of her water, putting the cap back on. "yeah well, i've had a lot of inspiration lately." that made you smirk. "have you?" she set her water down to stand in between your legs "mmhm" she hummed, kissing you. you made out for a bit before k moved down to your neck, kissing all over.

you held her head as she did so, a smile plastered on your face. "baby, you need to eat." she didn't let up "i got all the food i need right here."

k started licking your neck, making you moan softly "mhm," tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth. her hands moved from either side of your thighs to the waistband of your shorts. she pulled back to pull them down along with your panties, getting on her knees.

she licked and sucked on your pussy, your legs on her shoulders. "mhm, shit.." you moaned.

you bit your lip as k ate you out. "fuck.."

your fingers were tangled in her hair as she licked your clit, your other hand gripping the edge of the desk. her fingered entered you, moving in sync with her tongue. it seemed like every time you tried to breathe, it came out as a moan.

k was persistent. "oh my god..mmmm!" you moaned.

with the way she felt, you could stay like this for hours.

k was enjoying herself just as much as you were. she loved the way you tasted, the way you felt around her fingers, the way your body reacted to her touch, the sounds you made for her. there was nothing more that she wanted in this moment other than to please you.

you started bucking your hips up to meet her mouth, eager to feel as much of her as you could.

k brought her hand up to wrap around your throat, your hand coming up to loosely wrap around her wrist. "oh fuck, baby...right there." every touch had you feening for more.

"mhm, don't stop" you barely got out, a breathy moan following.

each lick sent electric pulses to every nerve in your body. the tension coiled tighter, a knot in your lower abdomen pulling taut, your breath coming in ragged, rushed gasps.

your heart pounded in your chest as you let out filthy moan after filthy moan.

your walls clench around k's fingers as you cum, your entire body beaming with pleasure.

as the bliss subsided, she pulled back, getting to her feet & wiping her mouth.

you caught your breath, hopping off the desk to pull your shorts and panties back up. “will you eat now?” you asked.

“i dunno man, my dessert was pretty filling.” her words made you throw your head back and let out a groan of irritation, rolling your eyes. “i’m so sick o’ you” you said, earning a chuckle from k. "let's go eat" she said, grabbing the bag of food that was now cold.

[robbyscoffee]

゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ I’D DO WHATEVER I COULD DO | 𝓜 ❝ robby ❞ robinavitch

lynnie's coffee shop ☕︎⋆.˚ request guidelines ☕︎⋆.˚

SUMMARY ⋮ ⌗ ┆Your father calls you mid-shift to make you feel how he always does: Like he couldn’t care less about his only daughter. You try to push through and keep your head up, be the lovergirl everyone knows you as, but you can’t help but crumble, because all you want is to be enough for your father. Special to him.

Who’d show you just how special you really are but the day shift attending?

PAIRING ⋮ ⌗ ┆grumpy!michael robinavitch x sunshine!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS ⋮ ⌗ ┆18+ SMUT AHEAD. MDNI. age gap (r! is in her 20’s, robby’s in his 40’s), r! is heavily implied to have anxiety. panic attacks. hurt comfort. r! is sort of a social worker but also a doctor. medical inaccuracies. other pitt characters featured. #alsomadeupcharactersfortheplot. small description of patient fall and sustained head injury. brief mention of blood. r’s father’s a deadbeat. briefly established backstory ⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ dom!robby. sub!reader. afab!reader. quick escalation. big dick robby. . .unprotected piv sex. tummy bulge. praise. cunnilingus (r!receiving). fingering (r!receiving). major daddy kink. two uses of little girl. slight fauxcest? (if you want to read it that way). pussydrunk!robby. use of pet names (kiddo, kid, sweetheart, babygirl, and honey are all used). palming. brief handjob. kissing. creampie. slight breeding kink.

WORD COUNT ⋮ ⌗ ┆ 6.7k

LYNNIE'S TEA ⋮ ⌗ ┆☕︎ started this on a plane ride and did not expect it to go as far as it did. . .everybody thank my own paternal issues for this one. . .i’m also not 100% i like this buuut hopefully someone else does ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ I'D RUN AWAY .ᐟ ꒱

AND HIDE WITH YOU.

“I NEED EXTRA HANDS in Trauma 2,” boomed the unmistakable sound of Dana’s voice across the ER. “Where the fuck’s our lovergirl?”

That was usually your cue, but you didn’t catch it at first. If you had, you’d’ve probably bolted the other way, extending your already too long break that’d went from a five minute call to a fifteen minute panic attack. One more stressor and you’d be down for fucking the count.

“Right here,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, approaching the center desk. Too late to back out now. “What’s the case?”

“Six-year-old fell from her treehouse. Robby’s already in there,” said Dana. She gave you a quick once over, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Y’okay, hun?”

You blinked back tears at the genuineness of her tone. “Yeah. Fine. I’m on the case,” you said with a nod and a tight smile. Not too obvious, nor too shallow. 

This was your poker face. This, you had to be good at. Because with even half the things you went through on the daily, it’d be foolish not to have mastered it.

You felt like an idiot for letting your father make you feel this way. For giving him so much leverage over your outlook on life. The people around you thought you loved wholeheartedly because you’d learned it from someone else, but the reality was far more complicated than that.

You loved the way you did not because of someone you knew, but someone you wanted to. Someone who loved like the word had no limits, like the way you did.

Your father was incapable of such treatment. When you left Boston for Pittsburgh years prior, he barely bat an eye. Just wished you well and asked you come back for the holidays, but never complained when you didn’t. Never cared that you didn’t. The man hardly cared about you, period.

And so he calls sometimes. Tries to be a father. Tells you he’s thinking of you, but it always feels like you’re a check on a to-do list. An afterthought. Like talking to you is an obligation, a thing he does because he has to, not because he wants to.

He’d called you in the breakroom the minute you got the door closed. You’d forgotten about the juice you were about to indulge in before answering the phone, wondering what he wanted. The man had promptly asked for help with the bills, and you being the angel you were, unable to ignore someone in need, no matter how salty, sent it without complaints. He hadn’t even told you he loved you when he hung up. Just told you this is what your responsibility was as a daughter now. He’d taken care of you, nurtured you after your mother had left. So you should be thanking him.

Man, you thought. Your old man had a twisted sense of family.

That call had you questioning your own validity. What had you done to deserve the loneliness you’d accumulated? To have a father who used you like an ATM? Friends who knew you but didn’t see you? It felt like the world was on your shoulders, too heavy for one person to carry, especially for someone so young. 

The last place you wanted to be carrying all these feelings was the PTMC. But life didn’t stop just because you were having a go at it. So neither could you.

You all but sprinted to Trauma 2, not ready to get back to work, but at least able. Eleven in the morning was early for a fall out of a treehouse, and you’d hate to be the little girl who’d taken the damage, so you made quick work of your feet, willing them ahead until you arrived.

At the bedside were Doctors Santos and Garcia, as well as Langdon, Javadi, and your attending, Doctor Robby. Behind Santos and Garcia were the parents of the children who were in inconsolable tears, being comforted to no avail by Doctor Javadi.

“Still no consciousness,” said Santos with her lip between her teeth, her hands working quickly at the bleeding gash across the little girl’s forehead.

“How high’s this fucking treehouse?” said Garcia, ever the blunt one. You shook your head.

“Garcia,” you chided, because that was often your role. Keeping the flow of empathy in a room at any given time alive. Especially when that room contained people in dire need of it.

“Am I happy to see you,” said Robby. He excused himself from the bedside while the other doctors worked, handing you a chart. “Talk to the family before you jump on. Girl’s named Hailey, mom and dad are Janet and Carl Atkins. You know the drill, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, of course, Robby,” you said with a nod. You tapped your fingers against the cardboard of the chart as you read its contents, like that’d somehow snap you back into doctor mode.

It’s the thought that counts, right?

“You’re an angel,” Robby said.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Atkins,” you said when you approached the parents, introducing yourself. “Why don’t we take a step outside?”

“We’re not leaving our daughter,” said Mrs. Atkins, who was still in tears.

“I understand your pain, Mrs. Atkins, but these doctors are doing everything to care for your little girl. Soon, that’ll mean lots of blood and sights you won’t want to remember of her. I promise you can come back in as soon as they’re finished.”

Mrs. Atkins, Janet, looked at her husband with teary eyes. He nodded and turned to you. You took that as your cue to lead them out of the room. Robby nodded as you made your exit with the parents.

“What happened this morning?” you asked gently, keeping any accusation out of your voice. You knew from experience that families of patients never responded well to that.

“H- Hailey wanted to play outside. It was beautiful out. We went into our backyard after breakfast, a- and Carl and I were having a bit of coffee after helping her into her treehouse. She’s a smart girl, so I thought—“ Janet stopped her sentence short to heave a sob. Carl rubbed her back.

“You thought you could trust her, like all parents do,” you finished. “She’s six. Still small, but she’s learning about the world in her own way, and you want to let her. There isn’t anything wrong with that. Then, what?”

“We didn’t even see her get out. Usually she stays inside and calls for one of us when she’s ready to come down. But this time, I guess she thought she could do it on her own,” Carl said. “She’d just hit the ground when we ran over. And we called 911.”

“I see. It’s to my understanding that Hailey’s very lucky,” you said after taking a good look at the chart. “No noticeable fractures, minimal chance of long-term brain damage. The worst she should walk away with is a concussion and a sprained ankle, but apart from that and her visible wounds, she should be back to health in no time,” you said.

“Then why is she not waking up?” said Janet.

“Her age and nature of the impact are likely to blame for her unconsciousness. Falling hard on your back is generally more dangerous, especially for teenagers and children. That doesn’t mean her injuries are severe,” you said calmly. “Hailey’s your only child?”

Janet nodded. “She’s the best little girl in the world. She was everything we prayed for.”

“Your love for her is palpable. You’re first time parents who are navigating the ups and downs of what it takes to raise a child. Mistakes don’t negate your progress. There’s no benefit in being hard on yourselves,” you said. “This wasn’t your fault. Children are naturally curious and occasionally unpredictable. That doesn’t mean you’re to blame for what happened today. The most you can do now is be there for Hailey. That’s all you can do.”

Janet sniffled, moved by your words. That was just the effect you had on people. 

Most people, anyway. 

It was your job at the PTMC to provide comfort to families in time of need, as well as finding balance in being a good doctor all the same. But it occurred to you more often than not that you had yet to acquire that same balance in your personal life. 

As per usual, that wasn’t the matter at hand right now.

The other woman took your hand in hers and squeezed. You squeezed back.

“Thank you. You’re a great doctor,” she said.

You smiled. “No, thank you. Now, why don’t you two take a seat over here? I’ll come back out with any updates on Hailey.”

After the parents sat on a bench outside Trauma 2, you braced yourself and went back in. Robby eyed you as you returned.

“Worked your magic out there, kiddo?”

You gave that same fabricated smile you’d offered Dina not too long prior and nodded, grabbing a pair of sterile gloves. “Sure did.”

He didn’t have to know that was just more of your magic.

After half an hour or so, Garcia finally threw her hands up, exhaling a sigh of relief. “My services are no longer required.”

You’d been helping keep Hailey stabilized beside Robby, while Santos had been next to Garcia. Javadi and Langdon had since left to handle another case. You checked the monitor to view the girl’s heart rate and blood pressure and nodded your agreement.

“All set. Thanks for your help,” you said.

“Sure thing. Call if you need the jazz hands again,” Garcia said before heading off.

“Good work, you two. Couple hours and she should be waking up,” said Robby.

“Great. I’ll give the parents the good news,” you said.

You discarded your gloves and put some hand sanitizer on before turning to face the parents who were still seated outside Trauma 2. They both stood up with urgency, looking frantic at your return.

“How is she?” said Janet.

You smiled. “Little Hailey’s going to pull through. She’s still unconscious, but we’ve completely stabilized her and she should incur no lasting brain damage from this incident. She’ll wake in a few hours.”

Janet threw her arms around you, and you responded with a little “Oh!” before reciprocating the hug.

“Thank you so much,” Janet said.

“Can we see her?” said Carl.

“Of course. Right this way.”

You led the way back into the room, where Robby was still standing opposite Santos. The latter backed away to allow the parents room to see their child.

“Thank you, Dr. Robby,” said Carl.

“You’re very welcome,” said Robby.

The two of them sat at their daughter’s bedside. Carl instantly grabbed Hailey’s hand, squeezing gently.

“We’re so sorry, honey,” Janet whispered in a quiet sob.

“Daddy loves you so much, Hailey,” Carl sniffled beside his wife. “We’ll never let anything like this happen again. I promise.”

I promise.

At the little declaration, you felt your throat tighten with a weird feeling. It felt like plain sadness at first, salt on the wound after your interaction with your own father. But it was more than that. Deeper.

It felt like fucking jealousy.

Tears filled your eyes and threatened to spill at the scene as Carl whispered all the ways he loved his daughter. The promises to take care of her. The dedication to doing better. All things you wish your father could do for you.

It was too much.

“Um, if you’ll excuse me,” you said with your fake smile, though you weren’t sure how convincing it was now that it was paired with teary eyes and a broken voice. You practically sprinted out of there subsequently, and didn’t stop until you reached the breakroom.

You slammed the door closed behind you and went for the sink. Everybody was busy with their own cases—it was just one of those kinds of days—so there was no one around to see you break down for a second time that shift. While it didn’t necessarily feel good to be alone, you weren’t sure you wanted anyone to see you like this.

Splashing water on your face was futile for your nerves. The sobs you heaved that came from the innermost parts of you were so much more than tears. It felt like all the things your father had said to you since he created you, the words or lack thereof that you’d tried and now failed to suppress, were bubbling to the goddamn surface.

You were in the middle of pressing your thumb to your palm, a trick for anxiety you’d heard from Dr. Collins, when the sound of the break room door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You took a large breath and didn’t immediately turn around, because you couldn’t give yourself away, couldn’t be vulnerable. Not on a day like this. Maybe not fucking ever.

You thought so, anyway, until the sound of Robby softly saying your name made your resolve crack in two.

“Y- Yeah?” you said without facing him.

“You alright? You kind of ran out of there,” he said. You could hear him coming closer.

“Oh, yeah, j- just needed a glass of water. Dehydrated,” you lied.

“Hydration is important,” he humored you. Yet his tone of voice gave way to the fact that you were a terrible liar. “But I’m not convinced that’s what this is.”

Fuck.

Tears spilled from your eyes. You still didn’t turn around, but when you felt your throat constricting again, your breath picking up speed, you realized it didn’t matter if Robby could see you or not. Your body language was going to betray you.

“I just need a m- minute,” you said, and that did him in. Your body started to shake with a familiar force, one nobody knew you dealt with on a daily basis.

A panic attack.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Robby said as your legs started to fail you. He didn’t say anything about the mascara that was probably coming down your cheeks, or the blatant redness in your eyes when you finally turned around. Instead, he sat you down in one of the chairs in the breakroom, rubbing your back. “Head between your legs.”

You did as told. This tactic did sometimes work for you. But it wasn’t enough to stop your heaving sobs or uncontrollable breathing.

“Come on, s’okay, in through your nose, out through your mouth,” Robby said. “It’s not forever. S’all temporary, s’all temporary. Come on, kiddo, breathe with me.”

Robby’s words felt like honey. But even the sweetest of candies can’t overpower the taste of salt.

It wasn’t Robby’s fault. Robby didn’t know. He didn’t know much about your life beyond the city you’d come from or who you are now. No one did. 

But that was just the thing. Even without truly, truly knowing you, Robby still wanted to help. That was more than your own father could ever say.

“It’s going to be okay,” Robby said finally. “Breathe with me.”

Every word had your nervous system slowly regulating again, and you tried to listen to the sound of his voice. After a few minutes of crying and shaky breaths, the world started to come back into focus.

“That’s a girl, just breathe. Breathe with me,” Robby hummed. “Let me get you some water.”

You felt the aftermath of your panic attack starting to hit the moment Robby returned with a glass of water. You drank it down in one quick gulp as your breath finally slowed back to normal pace.

“I’m. . .sorry you had to see that, I—“

“Don’t apologize. It happens to the best of us,” Robby said. You’d never seen the older man look so concerned. His eyebrows were wrinkled with worry, and there was a frown pasted on his lips.

After a beat, Robby spoke up again. “Did you. . .wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged, looking away. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you cry.”

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh. You’d tell anyone else the same thing, but you felt stupid for feeling the way you did about a man you’d known for a long time would never change. The stupid thing was holding out hope that he would.

“My dad called me. Just before I hopped on that case,” you said shakily. “He didn’t even ask how I was or what I was doing. He. . .he needed money f- for his bills. So I just sent it without thinking twice. He didn’t even tell me he loved me or anything before he hung up. Just told me this was my responsibility now. So that little girl. . .her father caring so much,” you sniffled. “Just felt like salt to the wound.”

You looked away from Robby completely now, turning your head to the side. “It’s dumb, right? I’m in my mid twenties and I’m still getting hurt by the man when he’s always been this way. Anyone else would have given up by now, but not me.”

“Now, that’s not entirely true,” Robby said sharply. “You need your father today as much as you did when you were born. Your age doesn’t have anything to do with it, kid. And if he can’t show up like he’s supposed to, that’s on him.”

Robby tilted your face to meet his and caught your eyes. “He has no idea what he’s missing.”

You sniffled at the sweet reassurance, leaning your cheek into his palm.

“You’re sure you’re fit to stay?” Robby asked, stroking your cheek.

You almost thought you’d misheard him. There was a loudly spoken rule about all hands on deck at this hospital. Confusedly, you returned,  “It’s been crazy in here today. Don’t you guys need me?”

Robby shrugged. “We have the staff, for once. If you’re not 100%, we’ll be okay if you need to leave. Seems like you need to relax, and this place is definitely not helping with that.”

You giggled at that. “Yeah, probably not,” you agreed. Your smile then faded. “But it’s alright. I took the bus here and with midday traffic, who knows how long I’ll be waiting, anyway,” you sniffled.

“That’s true. And you can stay if you want,” Robby said as he stood up. “Or I can bring you home.”

You looked up at him confusedly. “Bring me home? But, Robby, you—“

“—Jack wanted to come in early,” Robby said. “S’no problem.”

The offer made your heart ache. “You’re sure?”

Robby gave you a small smile. “Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

That’s what wound you in the passenger seat of Robby’s truck the second Jack walked into the ER. He opened the door for you and buckled you in before getting into the driver’s side, putting the keys into the ignition.

“I’m sorry I’m making you do this,” you said with a small voice, leaning your head against the window. Even after his reassurance, you still felt guilty for pulling him away from work. “You have a job to do.”

“You’re not making me do anything. And Jack’s a good doctor. He’s got it under control,” Robby said. “How far are you?”

“I’m a little far. It’s about a half hour commute,” you replied. “You really don’t have to bring me, Robby.”

“How about we go to my place instead? It’s closer. You’ll want to decompress sooner rather than later, I imagine.”

You nod. “Okay,” you replied. Robby did the same and began to drive.

Your hands were still restless from the aftermath of your attacks. You leaned your head back against the leather seat, closing your eyes while shaky breaths left your lips. Robby didn’t say anything until he heard you hiccup another sob. He’d stopped at a red light and turned to look at you.

“Sweetheart? You okay?”

You cringed at the whimper that left your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Robby said. He reached over and looped his fingers through yours, squeezing your hand to reassure you. “Don’t think about him. It’s not doing you any good. Put the window down, kiddo. That’ll help.”

You did as told, putting the window down ever so slightly. You used Robby’s hand like a lifeline while he drove, and not once did he let go.

Leaving the Pitt made you realize instantly how drastically it was affecting you. You had your anxiety under control most days, but it was easy for anybody to snap in a place like that. Now that you were here, you didn’t feel so frenzied. How Robby could run the show on a daily basis like he did, you had no idea.

The drive was mostly silent, save for the wind from your window and the low hum of the radio. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, not with Robby’s hand in your lap and intertwined with your own, grounding you throughout the trip.

He pulled up to a family home about fifteen minutes later. It was a beautiful place with flowers out front and two stories. Robby opened your door for you as you got out, and smiled when you immediately slotted your hand through his again.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you inside,” Robby said.

You followed behind him and watched him unlock the door, letting you inside before following. You took the place in, shockingly neat for your sarcastic attending, while he slipped his shoes off at the door.

“You can shower upstairs if you want. I can give you some clothes to change into,” Robby said. “Are you hungry?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to eat yet. But thank you, Robby. A shower would be nice,” you said.

“Okay, sweetheart. Come on, you can have your pick of my closet.”

You followed Robby upstairs, taking in the various picture frames that lined the walls of the staircase. Most were with Jack or your other coworkers in group pictures. You were even in some of these.

Robby opened the door to his large room, his bed messy with strewn pillows and scattered books on the nightstand. There were some clothes on the floor and Robby grimaced as he retrieved them.

“Sorry about the mess. Don’t ever have company,” Robby said. “You can look through my dresser.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said as you approached it. You went through his drawers and picked out an old band tee and baggy sweatpants. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll get you a towel.”

After Robby did so, you took the shower you’d been in desperate need of, hoping the cold water would cleanse your nerves. They still felt incredibly frayed even after leaving work, and part of you was still in panic mode. 

Most of it was just plain sadness.

When you came out of the bathroom, Robby was sitting on the edge of the bed, which was now neatly made. He perked up when he saw you, standing up and pulling the covers back. “You didn’t like the sweatpants?”

You shook your head. The tee was long enough to cover the bareness underneath it, and your body temperature wasn’t regulated enough for pants yet. “No. I’m hot,” you said, folding the pants neatly back into the dresser.

“I see,” Robby said. “Feeling better?”

You shrugged, approaching the bed and settling in. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” you said meekly.

“I don’t. But I want to,” Robby said. He tucked you in and turned the TV in the room on, handing you the remote. “I’ve got a few streaming platforms. Watch whatever you’d like. Let me know when you’re ready to eat.”

With that, Robby turned to leave the room, evidently wanting to give you your space, but before he could, you sat back up in bed. “Robby?”

Robby turned to look at you with a foot out of the door. “Yeah, kiddo?”

“Stay? Please, don’t. . .don’t go.”

Robby looked slightly startled by the request, but his expression shifted back into a smile just as quickly. He closed the door and joined you in bed, laying down over the covers. “Whatever you need.”

You turned the TV on and pretended to be interested in the channels, but even entertainment couldn’t do its part in distracting you. You flipped a random movie on before turning to Robby, laying on your side.

Robby rubbed your forehead, then stroked your hair with such care that you thought you might cry all over again. Maybe you would. “Comfortable, kiddo?” he asked.

You nuzzled into his touch, scooting closer. “Mhm. Thank you, Robby.”

“You’re welcome,” Robby said. “You let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

That simple comment worked you right up again, tears brimming in your eyes. All this sweetness from your somewhat gruff attending, the one who’d tucked you in after taking you home and giving you his clothes, no less, had you wondering how hard it really was for your father to do the same.

“Oh, honey,” Robby said as you broke down all over again. “Come here, baby.”

You followed the instruction of Robby patting his lap, sitting up and settling into it. You buried your face into his neck while he held you, cradling you like you were a baby. The gesture made you sob harder as he soothed you, rubbing your back tenderly while he shushed away your tears.

“Your father doesn’t deserve you. You’re too sweet to feel so neglected by him,” Robby said.

“Wh- What’s wrong with me? I just want him to care and somehow I feel like an asshole, because all I do is beg for the man to love me.”

“That doesn’t make you an asshole. It’s normal to want your father. Even more normal when he’s mostly absent.”

“I just want to be enough.”

“You are enough. More than enough,” Robby reassured you.

You pulled back to look at Robby, tears swimming in your eyes. “You’d. . .you’d take care of me, right?” you said without thinking. “If I was your daughter? You wouldn’t let me go?”

Robby smoothed his thumb over your cheek. “No, baby. I wouldn't ever let you go.”

You moved impossibly closer to Robby at the reassurance, now sitting up with your thighs on either side of his legs. He had a hand on your waist, the other coming up to cradle your cheek as he watched you stare.

“What is it, kiddo?” he said softly.

“I. . .I want. . .” you whimpered, bottom lip between your teeth. You of all people knew how unprofessional this position alone was, with your attending, no less, but you were craving more. Comfort. Touch. Love. All things Robby was willing to give you. All things your father never had.

Before you could overthink it, and before your brain could even process what you were doing, for that matter, you leaned slightly forward in Robby’s lap so that your lips ghosted over his. You pressed your hands to his chest in a silent plea, hitting him with those sweet eyes he’d known and admired since you joined PTMC.

But it was different now.

“Please?” you whispered.

“Sweetheart,” Robby huffed. He held his hand on the small of your back and left it there, making no effort to pull you closer or push you away. “We shouldn’t. Hell, I shouldn’t. Shouldn’t even be holding you like this.”

“I know, Robby, but. . .please, I won’t say anything. No one will ever know, I just. . .” you trailed off. 

Too late to back out now.

“Make me forget. Forget him, forget everything,” you said. Your fingers dug into his shirt, another wordless beg for more. “Please.”

Robby stared at you for a few long seconds, the silence louder than the sobs you’d heaved earlier in the breakroom. Your head was spinning from said tears, and it occurred to you that you should go home, lay in bed, pretend this never happened—

Until Robby cupped your cheek with a gentleness you’d hardly known he possessed, and pulled you in for a kiss.

The kiss was electric despite its initial slowness. He was soft with you like he was afraid to break you, as if you needed to be handled with fragility. Except when aggression is all you know, it’s natural to exert—which is why you push your tongue past his lips and wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Robby understands instantly and settles a hand on your hip, the other finding its way to your neck. He holds but doesn’t squeeze, again, like you’re too soft to be handled in such a fashion, and works his lips against yours ravenously. You can already feel the hardness of his cock below you and it has you embarrassingly soaked.

“That what you needed, baby?” Robby said with a small smile, cupping your face as he said it. You shook your head, to which he replied, “Oh, no? Then, what?”

You let your hand drift downwards before you could think twice about it, rubbing the aching bulge in his pants with shaking fingers.

“Fuck, honey,” Robby groaned. “Big girl words.”

“I. . .I want your cock, Robby,” you whined.

“That right?”

“M- Mhm, please,” you managed through a few more rubs. Then, the cherry on top to completely seal the deal—

“Please, Daddy.”

He’d said to use your words, right?

“Shit,” was all Robby said. His pupils were completely blown at the name, but the disgust you half expected to see when you looked at him wasn’t there. No, when you looked at him, he held a different expression entirely.

And it looked a lot like lust.

“Y’want me to be your daddy, huh? Guess you really meant you wanted to forget,” Robby hummed like it was a normal Tuesday, and you hadn’t just asked your attending of all the people to play the part. Luckily, for you, Robby was happy to oblige—evidently so, as he yanked you closer by the waist, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I can be his replacement.”

With that, Robby flipped you onto your back and pinned you underneath him with his body, using a hand to prop himself up. You continued to rub at the bulge in his scrubs, only now, you’d begun to tug them down, already ready for more.

Robby followed your lead and released his hardened cock from his jeans, the tip aching and bright. You tried not to think too hard about how the hell that’d fit inside you as you started to stroke him carefully.

“Let me take care of you, Daddy,” you said. “After everything you did today.”

“You’re such a sweet girl, honey,” Robby said through a grunt. “But I’m afraid that’s your Daddy’s job, now, isn’t it?”

The sentiment made your cheeks flare, and you simply nodded.

“Good girl,” Robby cooed. He slowly tucked his dick back into his pants. Confusion filled your face until he started to lift your shirt—his shirt—up so that your skin was exposed to him. He smirked at the sight of you without panties on.

“Someone was ready,” he teased. He tucked his dick back into his pants and pressed featherlight pecks to your belly, then started his descent down your body, starting with your inner thighs. He kissed and sucked at the skin there which had you squirming instantaneously, watching your every move to gauge how you were feeling.

“This okay?” he asked. You nodded.

Robby did the same and continued his ministrations. When he finally locked eyes with your pussy, a little sigh left his lips at the sight of your wetness. “Fuck, honey. You’re soaked.”

“Couldn’t h- help it, Robby. Need you.”

“Ah-ah, that’s not my name,” Robby chided with a sharp bite to your inner thigh. “You wanna try again?”

“I need you, Daddy,” you corrected.

“Much better, sweetheart,” Robby said. With that, he finally licked his first stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste of you. He started slowly to watch your reactions, tonguing your puffy clit in steady circles while his fingers joined the ministrations, entering your aching hole.

Robby alternated between licking your clit and diving between your folds, but whether that was more for you or him was unclear. He was completely drunk on your pussy, and paired with the sound of your pleasured noises, he was eating you up like a man starved.

“Fuck, babygirl, your pussy’s perfect. You’re perfect,” Robby grunted, driving his fingers inside you. You arched back with a particularly loud moan, the new nickname making you dizzy.

“F- Feels so g- good, Daddy,” you moaned. Robby smirked.

“Yeah? S’your Daddy making you feel good, kiddo?” he grunted between your folds, though it felt like he was talking more to your pussy then to you. “You deserve it, honey. My girl deserves to feel so good.”

He lifted your legs above his shoulders so he could dive deeper into your cunt, and you gasped at the change in position, his face almost completely blocked by your own body.

“D- Daddy, can you even breathe like that?” you asked worriedly.

Robby chuckled against your cunt, the sound vibrating between your legs. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”

With that, he started to eat you out again, only this time, it felt completely different. This time, with his hands wrapped around your thighs and your knees hooked over his shoulders, there was no limit to what Robby could do to you. His tongue entered your hole this time while his big nose rubbed against your clit, and you were convinced you were seeing stars.

“Fuck, D- Daddy, m’gonna—!” you moaned loudly, bucking your hips into the heat of his mouth. You were grinding against his face shamelessly now. Thankfully for you, Robby didn’t seem to mind.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go, Daddy’s got you,” Robby cooed before flicking his tongue against your clit, and not letting up until you were practically exploding against his face, coming with a loud cry.

Robby eased you through your orgasm with small licks against your sensitive clit. When the feeling became overstimulating, he switched gears and pressed kisses to your inner thighs, peppering them in a gentle path up your abdomen soon afterwards. He continued until he was hovering you again, and you took the opportunity to press your lips against his.

You tasted yourself on his mouth and felt your wetness from his beard, both facts working you up even so soon after your last orgasm. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he immediately caught on.

“Needy little girl. So eager to cum again, huh?” Robby said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, to which Robby chided, “None of that, babygirl. You tell Daddy what you want.”

“Want you inside me, Daddy. Want your cock,” you managed through shaky breaths, bucking your hips against his for emphasis. “Please.”

“You sound so sweet when you use your words, honey,” Robby cooed. For the second time, he freed himself, only this time he was visibly more hard. The tip of his cock was an angry red and dribbling bouts of pre-cum, and, fuck, did he look so much fuller than before. You gasped as he ran his head between your folds.

“You’re sure you want this, sweetheart? Absolutely positive?”

“Yes, Daddy, m’sure. I want you so bad. Please.”

Robby didn’t need another word before he was thrusting inside you completely, filling you to the brim.

You’d thought he was big before, but this stretch was completely different. There was a visible bulge where your bodies were conjoined which became more prominent with every little thrust into your pussy. Robby watched, utterly transfixed, at the sight of his large cock causing such an imprint on your skin.

“Y’okay?” Robby grunted. He had one hand on your belly and the other next to your head.

“M- Mhm. You’re so big,” you huffed.

Robby chuckled. “Hope that’s a good thing, sweetheart.”

“I- It is, I—oh!” you were cut off by the feeling of Robby’s hips snapping against yours, trying to find his pace. His stamina isn’t exactly what it used to be, but he’ll be damned if he leaves this room without making you feel good.

“Too much, kiddo?”

“N- No, not at all.”

“Good,” Robby said. He kept a steady albeit rough pace, reaching the deepest parts of you. It wasn’t your first time having sex, but it was with a man who was set on really taking care of you and not chasing his own pleasure. The thought made it feel all the more better.

You pulled Robby in for a kiss he answered gladly. As your tongues pushed against each other, his hips rocked even harder, driving his thick cock into your spongy walls. He was starting to hit the part of you that made you see stars, and you weren’t doing a good job of hiding it.

“That’s it, babygirl. That feel good?” Robby grunted against your lips.

“M- Mhm, y- you’re s- so good, Robby. Feel so good,” you said.

Robby chuckled and decided to let the use of his name slide, deciding you were probably too fucked-out to even remember your own right now. “You feel good, too, sweetheart. You’re so pretty like this,” he praised.

It was only a few minutes before Robby’s steady pace was replaced with a stronger one, as much faster as it was rougher. At the blown look of your pupils, he figured as much that this was what you wanted, what you needed, and he was right.

His cock was driving so far into you that it felt like he was in your throat. Every push had your back arching off the bed, unable to make any noise beyond a few broken whimpers and moans.

“That’s it, sweet girl. I got you, I got you,” Robby said gently, a stark contrast to the way his dick was bullying into your pussy.

“You—fuck—you promise, Daddy?” 

“I promise, honey. M’never letting you go, alright? Never,” Robby assured. Despite the pace, his words had your heart lurching, and you almost got emotional all over again.

“Robby,” you gasped. “I’m g- getting there again. Close.”

“S’okay, kiddo. Your Daddy wants you to feel good,” he groaned. He wasn’t so much looking for his pleasure as he was trying to give you yours. “What do you need?”

Easy. 

“Just don’t stop,” you said.

And Robby didn’t. He pressed kisses down your neck and sucked hickeys into your skin while he fucked you hard and fast, setting an absolutely lethal pace. The same pressure from earlier when you’d cum in his mouth was starting to return, and you were seconds away from your second orgasm.

“Cum with me, Daddy, please, please, I wanna feel you,” you begged, framing his cheeks with your hands. Robby had his on either side of your head while he smirked down at you.

“Yeah, you want my cum, baby? Want me filling your pretty pussy with my load?”

You nodded quickly, pulling him in for another kiss. “Yes, please. S’all I want.”

“That’s what you’ll get,” Robby said.

He didn’t stop until you were right on the edge, and when you were, he kissed you through it, rocking his hips into your pelvis and driving his dick hard into your cunt while your second orgasm crashed over you. You clenched hard around his cock as he spilled into you, securing your legs even tighter around his waist so that every drop stayed inside.

Robby got the message and gave a few last thrusts that stirred his cum deep inside you. When he pulled out, small ropes of white dribbled out of your hole and stained the bed, while the rest of it remained nestled within you.

“Who knew my little girl could be so dirty?” Robby teased, kissing your cheek.

You giggled. “It takes two, you know.”

“Fair enough,” Robby chuckled. “I’m going to get a towel, honey. Get you cleaned up.”

As he made his move to leave, however, you tugged his arm. Robby was at the edge of the bed. “Robby, w- wait.”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Did you. . .mean it? When you said you’d. . .never let me go?” you asked. “That you’d be his replacement?”

Robby smiled at you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, nodding. “Yeah, sweetheart. I meant every word.”

[amnesia-sc]

be quiet | michael jackson

cw/tw: 18+ mdni, smut blurb, michael uses your panties as a gag because you won’t be quiet even though he told you to shut up, p in v, botd era! x gf! reader, use of good girl, brat taming?

while filming for blood on the dance floor, you just couldn’t help yourself. not that he was complaining, but the moment the dressing room door shut behind michael, you were on him. and who was he but a gentleman? of course he’d oblige for his lady but jesus christ— you didn’t know how to be quiet.

part of him was starting to assume you were doing it for fun. to bother him. your moans ricocheting off the walls and linoleum as his hips rocked into yours. the sight of his cock disappearing inside of your pussy as you were perched on the edge of the vanity making him lose his mind. but michael had told you to be quiet about five times now, and like a brat, you seemed to only get louder.

“fuckin’ hell, baby.” michael bit out, his voice caught around a moan as your cunt fluttered around him. “be quiet.”

your grin was wicked as you threw your head back, his name tumbling from your lips in a loud cry. the entire film crew could probably hear you.

he wasn’t thinking. honest to god, he wasn’t.

michael’s hand caught on the discarded cotton of your underwear that was off to the side on the table. his other hand taking a firm hold on your jaw to pry your lips open and his fingers shoved the flimsy and wet material into your mouth.

your eyes widened and he was likely going to hell for it, but the sight of you like that as he fucked you was probably one of the most erotic things he had ever seen in his life.

michael leaned down, mouth against your ear as his thrusts danced on the edge of violence. the vanity slamming into the wall and the mirror rattling in it’s frame.

“be a good girl and take it,” he kissed the side of your head. “quietly.”

michael jackson masterlist

taglist: @solarrandom @mjssluttyfish @tojiswifeforlife @sometranslationnoteru @sunshineyrosie @amoravelee @mvsticmoony @softchaosdiary04 @slugstarzz @unknown11 @redemptioninthe4ethers @saberlight1 @roseidol @iimsopretty @auroralwriting @thottiepebbless16 @wannabestartinsmth @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @loverstar014 @mjjsangel @ghzfj @18lkpeters @devilslittlehelper @cherubae111 @ursamajor17 @sarcasmismyfirstlove @bbpanth3rr @brainacidsstuff @fayleyy @lovern-9 @jxngwons-pinkyy @veraberaxx @thrill3rnights @arzua10 @michaelcomeback @coornballz @escapefromrealitylol @rorawrnoa-zoro @ooooglymoooogly @tellybearryyyy @softchaosdiary505 @yennabow @sparklyglove @khxna @grumpyy-bearr @erenstitanweave @loveposiie @mikaylajacksonnn

[cermoore]

Any Thoughts? ♡

summary 𑣲 just a blurb of the aftermath on the two of you’s first time

𝒻. reader x michael. 𝓳┊thriller!era ˚. ᵎᵎ soft porn ༉‧₊˚. purely fluff ⋆˙⟡ intercourse ⋆.˚ bambi x bambi ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ 0,397k wc ˊˎ-

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: inspired by this post by: @sunflowerssighing . 𑣲⋆˙— masterlist

You were incredibly dizzy, just an absolute mess. Sweating profoundly — with your face that straight up says ‘you’re at your complete mercy’.

Michael stuffed his face onto the cruck of your neck, while his hands were keeping your legs up high. His cock was deeply inside you, recklessly thrusting in and out.

This was you and Michael’s first time having sexual intercourse, after many giggly moments of you two figuring out the most comfortable and non awkward way to manoeuvre your body’s together.

Finally getting the right rhythm — you both couldn’t get enough of it. With you countlessly moaning and begging him to keep going — and Michael immediately taking control all while still whimpering over you. It was safe to say you two are enjoying the experience very well.

“Michael—!” you moaned loudly. “God… baby you feel amazing” Michael whimpered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer — wanting his thick member buried into you even more.

Michael leaves sloppy kisses onto your collarbone with each and every push. Each time his lips parted from your skin, he would slip out a whine, expressing his yearn for your soul touching his.

With a final thrust, Michael spurted his cum inside you with a high pitch moan — hitting his orgasm. It felt like such a bliss feeling his warm release filling you up. 

Not freeing his cock yet, but letting it rest till he was completely finished emptying himself to you. Both your breaths eventually turn back to a regular pace, as your foreheads pressed against each other — eyes shut.

Michael rolled to his back beside you — still collecting his breath. You turn your head, your eyes darting up to him “so… any thoughts?” you sighed out.

After a few seconds wiping his face off from the build up sweat, he stared at the ceiling, his expression nothing but amazement. “That was magical…” he said, turning to you with a pure and whimsy smile. 

You slowly cracked a grin then let out a chuckle. “Magical…?” you repeated amusingly, resting your face onto your fist. “Yeah…” Michael quickly nodded his head with a smile.

“In that case… want to do it again?” You smirked. With the same smile grew wider, Michael immediately toppled over you once again “thought you never ask!” he beamed, leaning in to you for a kiss.

taglist: @bttrphly @applehead-angelface @ttangerinexo @pixieelixer-24 @b4bybmine @amoravelee @navydotz @amilahhh @botdfaholic @givein2mike @commanders @b3rk1ey @cillianmurphyapologist @softchaosdiary505

[mjsarchivess]

THIS ISNT FUCKING FAIR WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKK

[kkgalerii]

do yall hear a train sound… or is it just me??? i swear i hear some shit… 🚂

[healdwrld]

tender. bad!era michael x black!fem reader

taking care of michael, who is utterly exhausted but still wants to be ridden and touched. wc: 460

slow/sleepy sex , riding , handjob , dom!reader(?)

had this idea while laying in bed with a migraine.. tired asf.. (ooohhh maybe I’ll create a fluff fic that includes mj or reader experiencing a bad migraine👀??) anyways, enjoy !

the room was dimly lit by candles. a gentle amber glow danced against the walls and soft shadows blended into dark corners.

the bed dipped as you placed your knee closer to michael's stretched out thigh, adjusting your position so that you could lean forward while using you hand to pump his hard and lengthy dick up and down at a steady pace.

the bedroom was quiet except for the wet sound of michael's precum as you jerked him off. as well as the occasional soft, deep rooted groans and whines, and the moist sounds of lips on skin.

michael was laying down, pillows bunched up beneath his head. strands of disheveled curls sprayed across the pillows, some strands falling into his face. you sat in between michael's legs, running a hand slowly up and down his thigh in a soothing motion while using your other hand to stroke his dick.

the pace of the night was very, very slow. and perhaps it was better this way because michael was very, very tired. he had a both physically and mentally demanding day. you knew this from the way his shoulders and eyes were heavy when he came back earlier. yet despite that exhaustion, he still kissed you into the mattress and roamed his hands all over your body. that was when you had suggested taking care of him for one night.

michael let out a moan from beneath you— a small, involuntary cry that sounded closer to a whine than anything. you kept your pace steady and gentle, leaning forward to place tender kisses on his neck and chest. michael hummed softly as you did so, eyes lidded as he watched you from underneath long lashes.

you laughed softly at his expression, "sorry, baby. I know you're tired." you said, taking your hand off of his dick and moving up more to cradle hik and line yourself up with him. michael places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumbs in gentle circle similar to the way that you were rubbing his thigh.

having been prepared already, you sunk down onto his dick gently and smoothly, letting out a choked out gasp once you took him fully. michael sucked in a breath, letting out a small curse.

"..god, you feel s'good, mama." he sighed out. his eyes fluttered closed in a way that you couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or if he was genuinely falling asleep with his dick in you but you quickly begin to move. he groaned, eyes opening again just to watch you bounce up and down with growing desperation.

"fuck, you feel so good, mike.. s-so fuckin' good. ah!" you jerked, curses spilling from your lips with every inch swallowed into your wet pussy….

[s7de]

Thinking about giving michael a handjob after seeing how much pressure he was under for his upcoming tour..

You had him in the kitchen. His back to the marble countertop, chest to chest with your hand down his pants, his face buried into your neck.

You were whispering affirmations in his ear, just to ease him through his orgasm. He was so flushed, little moans and mewls escaped his lips. ‘Shh, s’okay baby, I got you’

You knew just how he liked to be touched. So you started slow, gently pumping between his legs. Tight but slow strokes, his hands flew to your waist, one sneaking to grab at your ass.

His hips were slightly bucking up into your hand. you knew he wasn’t going to last very long. It had been a while since you guys were intimate, mostly due to his busy schedule.

‘Makin’ me feel s’good mama,” he whined into your shoulder. His grip on your waist tightening when you sped up stroking him. You lifted your other hand to gently tug at his hair.

‘Look at me, wanna see your pretty face daddy,’ the nickname made his dick throb between your fingers. He slowly lifted his head off your shoulder. When you met his face he quickly shut his eyes. a smirk played across your mouth, slightly biting at your lip.

‘C-can’t be sayin’ stuff like that baby,’ his voice barely a whisper, you slightly tightened your grip on his dick, keeping the same pace. Peppering kisses all over him, his nose, his cheeks, his jawline, He was a complete mess.

When you trailed down to his neck, inhaling his scent, licking and sucking on his collarbone, his breathing got heavier. His mouth parted and a broken cry escaped, you could tell he was holding back from being too loud.

‘Let it out my love, just wanna make you feel good,’ that was all he needed to push him over the edge. his head flew back, hand flying to his mouth, moans slipping out through the cracks of his fingers. You were pumping him through his orgasm, feeling the way his dick stiffened while he spilled on your fingers.

‘Theeere you go, I know baby, you did so good..’ You murmured, gently rubbing his back, his grip now moving to your wrist as you continued talking him through it. He was practically sobbing.

The sight of him completely unraveling made your clit throb. his curls sticking to his forehead, skin glistening with sweat. god you wanted to fuck him, you wanted to feel him in the deepest parts of your body.

After that, you conditioned his body into consistently needing that from you. He’d be absolutely bricked just from holding hands with you, or when you’d gently caress his arm. The contrast of your pretty soft fingers laced around his dick compared to his, made it impossible to relieve himself. He was crazy about you, rightfully so.

© S7DE

[barnesdreamcatcher]

mock sympathy 

cw: f!reader, mdni, smut, belly bulge, jack is a little shit

You’d like to smack the stupid smirk from Jack’s face when he bottoms out inside of you, but he’s got your wrists pinned to your back. The raw force of his hips meeting yours forces a whimper out of you, making him chuckle. 

“You okay there, princess?” he asks. 

Just as you’re about to answer in a tone he probably wouldn’t like, he pulls out a few inches and thrusts back into you so hard that the whole bed shakes. Your entire face is mushed into the mattress, which just so barely muffles your surprised shriek.

“Fuck, Jack,” you gasp.  His thick cock pulses inside of you as you clench around him as if you’re trying to suck him in deeper. 

“Hm?” he hums innocently. 

With one hand, he keeps hold of your wrists while the other rests on your hip. His thumb smooths over the delicate skin of your lower back, but you barely register the sweet gesture as he thrusts forward again, pushing your face deeper into the pillows. 

A whine falls from your lips, which Jack shushes immediately. 

“Aww, poor baby,” he coos. His voice is soft and sweet as honey, dripping with faux concern.

He tugs at your wrists, practically forcing you into a more upright position. With your back almost pressed against his chest, you wobble slightly, but Jack’s got you. His free arm wraps around your tummy, keeping you upright. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He fucks up into you, the thick head of him aiming at your G-spot so hard that you think you’ll bruise. Sweat drips down your back, and your breathless, high-pitched moans fill the room.  His hand on your belly moves lower and presses down against the distended shape of his cock. 

“Ja-ack,” you gasp, the one-syllable word disrupted by a particularly rough roll of his hips. 

“Uh-uh, baby, it’s okay. You like this, I promise.” 

[barnesdreamcatcher]

cw: fem!reader, 18+, phone sex (a little dubcon-y but girlie is into it), daddy kink

You’re a little hazy when you wake up. Your lashes stick together, and your lids feel so heavy. The sunlight has only just begun to filter through your curtains, and you can’t quite piece together why you’re awake at this hour. 

Until you register your phone ringing.

Now, the list of people able to call you through your sleep focus is very short. Jack is right at the top. 

You reach for your phone immediately, but your movements are still rather sluggish. Just before the call is about to go to voicemail, you manage to answer.

“Jackie?” you murmur drowsily, “What’s wrong?”

You hear a faint shifting at the other end of the line and a sigh of relief. 

“God, it’s good to hear your voice, baby.”  Jack sounds a little breathless and more tired than you. 

You sit up and brush the fine hairs from your forehead, your brows pulled together in worry.

“You okay, Jackie? Bad day?” you ask.

“Something like that, bun. Just finished my shift. I’m in the parking lot right now,” he answers. “Did I wake you? You sound sleepy, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist.

He’s quiet for a second, and you hear another rustling sound.

“Tell me something, bunny,” Jack requests. “Anything. What did you dream about?”

With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you hum as you try to remember.  “I don’t know, Jackie,” you admit, “I think you were there. You usually are. In my dreams, I mean. I think we were at the beach… or at a lake?”

You pull the blanket up to your arms. It’s still much too early to think about so much, but if Jack asks, you deliver.

“Sounds nice,” he mumbles. His voice is hoarse, almost rough like sandpaper. “Keep going.”

Something about the way he speaks makes your tummy flutter. 

“Well,” you go on, “There were birds. Green ones.”

“Mhm…”

“They kept circling over us. I don’t think I know any green birds.”

“Me neither.”

You hear him shift again, and this time there is another sound. Like… like fabric moving.  You’re about to question this when Jack suddenly groans. 

“Keep talkin’, sweet girl,” he croaked.

“Jackie…?” 

“Please. Just talk. That’s all I’m askin’.”

His words are followed by a wet, filthy sound.  You immediately feel the pull in your lower tummy as you begin to realise. 

“There- we went swimming,” you go on, a little shakily now, “and saw fish. A bunch of ‘em. Little ones, which were— “

Jack moans softly, which makes you press your thighs together. 

“Um…” As you grow more flustered, it gets harder to speak. “They were like rainbows, their scales. The sun made them change colours.”

“Uh huh,” Jack mutters, his voice thin and strangled. “Keep goin’, baby. Just a little longer."

You can’t really focus as you hear the way his hand begins to move faster, slick sounds coming out of the speaker of your phone. 

“I… uh, we… we… I don’t remember, Jackie.”

“C’mon, bunny,” he encourages, “You can. Use that pretty little head of yours for me. For Daddy, hm?”

Liquid heat collects at the base of your spine, and you sneak a hand down between your thighs, only applying pressure for now. You’re not allowed to touch without him there. 

“Daddy, I don’t remember,” you whine. 

“Yeah, you do,” he retorts. “Baby, you do. C’mon, talk to me. Help out your Daddy.”

“We- we sat at the shore,” you continue. You weren’t even sure if it was true or just desperation making you invent things now. “And we saw dragonflies. And you held my hand and told me about your day at work. It was… it was a good day, I think.”

“Mhm.” He inhaled sharply, and you heard fabric rustling again. “So close, bunny. Just a little longer. Daddy’s almost done. Oh, fuck.” 

You clench around nothing as he curses, all breathy and needy.

“You.. we just kept sitting and talking. You, um, you kissed my cheek. And then you held me.”

The last word has barely left your mouth when a godless noise spills from his mouth.  “Fuck, bunny, yes. Yes, keep talking with that sweet voice of yours. Please, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whimper, your cunt pulsing now. “I don’t remember anything else. Just you and me at the water and the fishies and the dragonflies and—”

You’re interrupted by the deep, throaty moan that claws itself up from his chest only to fall from his lips like a tidal wave.

“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasps. “Yes. That’s my bunny.”

It’s quiet for a moment, only his heavy breathing and your needy little gasps as you rock into your hand, your hips moving almost involuntarily.  It always takes Jack a few seconds to catch his breath when he cums like that.

“Bunny?” he murmurs then. 

“Yeah?” you whisper. 

“Get that hand off your cunt right now. She’s mine. And I’m coming over right now to take good care of her.”

❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎ ☆ find my masterlist here ☆

[barnesdreamcatcher]

cw: fem!reader, 18+, phone sex (a little dubcon-y but girlie is into it), daddy kink

You’re a little hazy when you wake up. Your lashes stick together, and your lids feel so heavy. The sunlight has only just begun to filter through your curtains, and you can’t quite piece together why you’re awake at this hour. 

Until you register your phone ringing.

Now, the list of people able to call you through your sleep focus is very short. Jack is right at the top. 

You reach for your phone immediately, but your movements are still rather sluggish. Just before the call is about to go to voicemail, you manage to answer.

“Jackie?” you murmur drowsily, “What’s wrong?”

You hear a faint shifting at the other end of the line and a sigh of relief. 

“God, it’s good to hear your voice, baby.”  Jack sounds a little breathless and more tired than you. 

You sit up and brush the fine hairs from your forehead, your brows pulled together in worry.

“You okay, Jackie? Bad day?” you ask.

“Something like that, bun. Just finished my shift. I’m in the parking lot right now,” he answers. “Did I wake you? You sound sleepy, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist.

He’s quiet for a second, and you hear another rustling sound.

“Tell me something, bunny,” Jack requests. “Anything. What did you dream about?”

With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you hum as you try to remember.  “I don’t know, Jackie,” you admit, “I think you were there. You usually are. In my dreams, I mean. I think we were at the beach… or at a lake?”

You pull the blanket up to your arms. It’s still much too early to think about so much, but if Jack asks, you deliver.

“Sounds nice,” he mumbles. His voice is hoarse, almost rough like sandpaper. “Keep going.”

Something about the way he speaks makes your tummy flutter. 

“Well,” you go on, “There were birds. Green ones.”

“Mhm…”

“They kept circling over us. I don’t think I know any green birds.”

“Me neither.”

You hear him shift again, and this time there is another sound. Like… like fabric moving.  You’re about to question this when Jack suddenly groans. 

“Keep talkin’, sweet girl,” he croaked.

“Jackie…?” 

“Please. Just talk. That’s all I’m askin’.”

His words are followed by a wet, filthy sound.  You immediately feel the pull in your lower tummy as you begin to realise. 

“There- we went swimming,” you go on, a little shakily now, “and saw fish. A bunch of ‘em. Little ones, which were— “

Jack moans softly, which makes you press your thighs together. 

“Um…” As you grow more flustered, it gets harder to speak. “They were like rainbows, their scales. The sun made them change colours.”

“Uh huh,” Jack mutters, his voice thin and strangled. “Keep goin’, baby. Just a little longer."

You can’t really focus as you hear the way his hand begins to move faster, slick sounds coming out of the speaker of your phone. 

“I… uh, we… we… I don’t remember, Jackie.”

“C’mon, bunny,” he encourages, “You can. Use that pretty little head of yours for me. For Daddy, hm?”

Liquid heat collects at the base of your spine, and you sneak a hand down between your thighs, only applying pressure for now. You’re not allowed to touch without him there. 

“Daddy, I don’t remember,” you whine. 

“Yeah, you do,” he retorts. “Baby, you do. C’mon, talk to me. Help out your Daddy.”

“We- we sat at the shore,” you continue. You weren’t even sure if it was true or just desperation making you invent things now. “And we saw dragonflies. And you held my hand and told me about your day at work. It was… it was a good day, I think.”

“Mhm.” He inhaled sharply, and you heard fabric rustling again. “So close, bunny. Just a little longer. Daddy’s almost done. Oh, fuck.” 

You clench around nothing as he curses, all breathy and needy.

“You.. we just kept sitting and talking. You, um, you kissed my cheek. And then you held me.”

The last word has barely left your mouth when a godless noise spills from his mouth.  “Fuck, bunny, yes. Yes, keep talking with that sweet voice of yours. Please, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whimper, your cunt pulsing now. “I don’t remember anything else. Just you and me at the water and the fishies and the dragonflies and—”

You’re interrupted by the deep, throaty moan that claws itself up from his chest only to fall from his lips like a tidal wave.

“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasps. “Yes. That’s my bunny.”

It’s quiet for a moment, only his heavy breathing and your needy little gasps as you rock into your hand, your hips moving almost involuntarily.  It always takes Jack a few seconds to catch his breath when he cums like that.

“Bunny?” he murmurs then. 

“Yeah?” you whisper. 

“Get that hand off your cunt right now. She’s mine. And I’m coming over right now to take good care of her.”

❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎ ☆ find my masterlist here ☆

[buckysgirlll]

just a kind reminder that i am BLACK. so i will always imagine my fem!reader as BLACK.

mwahh 💋

[ariestrxsh]

M.S. | Bathroom

ⓘ softdom!bf!matt x sub!gf!reader, sneaking around, nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving), praise, shower sex, using the shower head in a creative way, edging, being super loud, almost getting caught, porn with little plot

summary: one day while nick is out of the house, you and matt take advantage of having his nice bathroom all to yourselves...∘˙○˚.•

∘˙○˚.• inspired by this post 🩷 ily @mattsbeloved

now playing: ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။|||||။၊|။• bathroom - montell fish

dividers by me !

"Nick. Your bathroom is so nice," you commented, grazing the wall with your fingertips as you admired the pretty pink tile. "I swear, when I buy a house, I'm hiring you to do the interior design." Your eyes dropped to the detailing of the knobs and the detachable shower head. Nick always had impeccable style. He had an eye for color, aesthetic, and flair. It was something you were always a little envious of.

"Yeah, wish my bathroom looked like this," Matt added, standing in the center of the room, adjusting his backwards hat. Your gaze flickered over at him, noticing his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips and a pair of black boxers that were peeking out of the waistband. It always drove you crazy when he wore them together.

"Mind you, you were there when we all picked out tile for our bathrooms, and you chose to go with white," Nick snarked back, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Guess I don't think that hard about how I'm gonna decorate a place where I'm gonna wash my balls," Matt chuckled, his hand hovering over the shower knob like he was about to turn it on.

"Matt!" You flirtatiously batted his hand away, the bathroom echoing with your giggles. "Don't you dare!"

"Alright, well, I have a photoshoot in less than an hour," Nick replied, glancing down at his watch. "I gotta get going if I'm gonna make it on time. Don't do anything weird in here." He shot you each a glare before leaving the two of you alone in his shower like he knew what was about to happen next.

You and Matt exchanged a devious look, your minds both immediately going to the same place. The same dirty, filthy place. You each waited until you heard the front door slam shut before you said anything.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Matt cooed, reaching up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His thumb grazed your cheek as he stared down at you with his lust-filled gaze, subtly chewing his bottom lip.

"Depends," you smirked back, your stomach fluttering at his touch and the way he was practically devouring you with his seductive blue eyes.

"Because I was thinking..." Matt started to say, his voice trailing off as his hand slowly moved down your neck to your breast which he then gave a gentle squeeze. He didn't have to finish his sentence, and you didn't have to respond. The twinkle in your big doe eyes said it all.

His fingers found their way to the heart-shaped buttons cut out of stone that held your blouse closed, and he started to slowly undo them, one by one. He took his time, your breath catching as the top button popped open, his smile growing wider as he worked his way down. "Let's get you out of this, huh?"

You stood there in silence, licking your lips as he continued to undress you, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. He dropped his gaze again, his eyes wandering your body as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Once he'd undone every last button, he pushed the soft fabric off your shoulders and let it fall to the shower floor. His large hand settled on the dip in your curves, cradling the side of your waist and pulling you closer once more until his hips were pressing into yours. You felt his hardness resting on your lower stomach, making it impossible to resist him. He locked eyes with you, tilting your chin up with his finger.

He leaned in and kissed you, his soft lips melting into yours. Your whole body softened, dissolving into his as his kiss grew messier. Hungrier. You felt him gently bite down, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged at your swollen, plump lip before releasing it, eliciting a soft sigh from you.

He pushed you up against the same pink tile the two of you were admiring with his brother just minutes ago, and his lips latched onto a sensitive spot on your neck. You tipped your head back, giving him better access, his soft mouth working its magic on your warm skin. You softly moaned, encouraging him even more.

He nipped at your throat with his teeth, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He bit down a little harder, definitely leaving a mark, which made you even wetter.

He moved down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses to the top of your breast. He paused for just a moment, watching you squirm beneath him. "Matt. Please," you cooed in a breathy voice.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" He whispered, a malicious smile curling across his perfect lips. "So turned on already, and I haven't even gotten started."

Without warning, he latched onto your right breast. His soft, wet tongue swirled around your nipple, sending ripples of electricity through your entire body and making you shudder. He moaned, his lips vibrating around your sensitive bud.

"Oh, Matt," you softly whimpered as his hands wandered the rest of your body. You felt the waistband of your jeans loosen as he slowly unbuttoned them, and you heard the sound of him lowering your zipper. His fingers dipped down the front of your pants, grazing your white lace panties.

"Jesus. You're soaked," he observed, slowly massaging circles over the wet spot of the fabric, stimulating your clit. You gasped, your knees buckling underneath you.

He moved to the other breast, paying the same special attention he had to the first. He gently bit down, making you cry out. Your hand instinctively reached up to cover your mouth, forgetting the two of you were alone.

Matt paused, his gaze flickering up at you as he continued to rub your little pussy through your lace panties. "C'mon, baby. Don't be shy. Let me hear you. Got the place all to ourselves."

He pulled his hand out from your waistband, staring straight at you as he lifted his fingers to his lips, seductively sucking your juices from them.

"Mmm. So sweet," he rasped as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you. His kisses trailed down your stomach as he slowly tugged at your jeans that hugged your figure so well. He pulled them down your thighs, helping you step out of them one leg at a time, and he discarded them with the blouse he'd slipped off of you moments ago.

You peered down into his blue eyes as he closed the distance between his face and your clothed cunt. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting and letting out a moan as his warm mouth covered your heat. "Oh!"

Matt smirked against the lacey material, his tongue darting out and licking along the wet spot to taste you more thoroughly, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He used his teeth, trapping the elastic band of your panties, and slowly pulled them down your thighs. Your stomach turned with arousal, watching him undress you in such an animalistic way.

You stepped out of your panties as he pulled them off of you, and he dove face first between your legs once more. His tongue grazed your slit, gathering your wetness. He quickly found your clit, closing his lips down around it and softly humming against your bundle of nerves.

You cried out again, your knees trembling as you struggled to keep yourself up. You instinctively reached for him, accidentally knocking his hat off in the process before threading your fingers through his hair. He chuckled against your cunt, his tongue slithering through your delicate folds.

"Pretty and pink just like this bathroom," he complimented your pussy as he spread you open, admiring how wet you were. He blew cold air over your clit, making you quiver before flicking his tongue against you once more.

He hiked up your right leg, his ear resting against the inside of your thigh and the sole of your foot resting on his back as he ate you out like a man starving, devouring you like his life depended on it. The soft, wet sounds of his tongue exploring you filled the room, making it nearly impossible to fend off your impending orgasm.

Before you could succumb to the feeling, it was cut short by him pulling away, grinning from ear to ear, his mouth glistening in your juices. "Not yet."

He climbed to his feet and started undressing himself in front of you, pulling his white t-shirt off over his head. You admired his physique, his veiny arms, his defined biceps, and his strong shoulders. Your gaze dropped to his v-lines as he lowered his waistband, slinking off his sweats and his boxers.

You bit down on your lip as his cock sprung out, hard and ready to go, his tip shiny with precum. He wrapped his hand around his length, giving it a few strokes as he stared you down with his hungry blue eyes. "Turn around," he demanded.

You listened, spinning around. He turned the knob, flicking on the shower. You felt the warm water cascade over you, running off of your naked body like a waterfall. Matt grabbed the detachable shower head in one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you into him, his hard cock resting against your backside.

"Good girl. Just stay still and let me make you feel good," he growled into your ear as he held the shower head between your legs. Your head fell back against him, your back arching against his chest as you felt the pressurized water hit your cunt. Another guttural moan fell from your lips.

Matt smirked, loving the sounds and reactions he could elicit from you. "So sensitive," he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over your neck. He reached up with his free hand, grabbing a handful of your tit, savoring every bit of you.

Before long, you felt the pressure building in your lower stomach again. Your whole body began to tremble, your composure slipping away from you quickly until you nearly came undone, but Matt was quicker. He pulled the shower head away before you could finish, reattaching it to the wall with a sadistic chuckle, determined to tease you until you physically couldn't handle it anymore.

"You ready for me?" He wondered aloud.

You peered back at him, nodding. He grabbed your wrists, pinning your hands up against the pink tile. He hiked your leg up again, poking and prodding at your weeping hole with the tip of his cock. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your jaw fell slack as he breached your entrance.

He stretched you open, the rest of his length disappearing into your sopping wet cunt as his hips jerked forward, a guttural moan falling from his own lips. With his left hand, he reached around to the front of your body, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not restricting airflow, just holding you in place as he started to pump into you.

"You take it so willingly, don't you?" He cooed, his words of praise going straight to your clit. "Fuck. It's like this pussy was made for me."

You clawed at the shower wall, trying desperately to anchor yourself to anything as his cock moved steadily inside of you, making you throb around him.

"Squeezing me so fuckin' good, darling," he grunted into your ear, speeding up his thrusts.

You were a whimpering mess, unbridled sounds of pleasure pouring from your lips like music to Matt's ears, encouraging him to pound into you harder. The knot in your stomach pulled tight, your climax bubbling up inside of you.

With a final moan that came deep from within your core, you felt your body go limp held up only by Matt and the shower wall he was fucking you against, your left cheek pressed against the pink tile. You trembled uncontrollably, your pussy rhythmically clenching around him. Pleasure rippled through you as you came undone, chanting Matt's name like a spell.

Matt came shortly after you, moans and grunts floating to your ears, his hot breath hitting the side of your neck, his cock twitching as he pumped you full of his hot, sticky cum. "Look at what you do to me," he whispered to you, his strokes slowing.

While he was still inside of you, you both were startled by the sound of a knock at the bathroom door. The two of you snapped your heads to face each other, both looking confused. It was too early for Nick to be back.

"What are you guys doing in Nick's bathroom?" You heard Chris' voice float through the door.

"Fuck off, Chris," Matt called back, still breathless, the shower still running.

"You don't think he heard us, did he?" You asked, gazing back at your boyfriend who had flushed cheeks and a glazed over expression. He looked beautiful.

"I'm sure he didn't, and if he did, I'll make damn sure he doesn't say anything to Nick."

[malepeacock]

🎂BIRTHDAY BOY🎂 - JAAFAR JACKSON

🎊 pairing: jaafar jackson x blackfem!reader (imagine any race tho baby)

🎊 warning: some NASTY smut.

🎊: happy birthday to my man jaafar 😩 and ts took too long bro didn’t finish till 6 am and had to proof read and I promise if this only gets like a little bit of likes I PROMISE I’m leaving this app (jkjk but don’t pmo).

🎊: Find the “💋” if you wanna dive straight into the smut

Tagging: @sweetdreamingx, @d3adst4r

Jaafar was dead to the world. He lay sprawled on his back, his breathing slow and deep and utterly peaceful. His bare chest rose and fell with each breath.

The duvet had slipped low during the night, riding down to the curve of his lower chest.

He was thirty years old today. And he had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.

You'd been awake for twenty minutes. Long enough to brush your teeth and splash water on your face and tie your hair up.

You then stood in the bathroom doorway and watch him sleep, your heart so full it felt like it might crack your ribs.

You crossed the room on silent feet, the plush bedroom carpet swallowing your footsteps.

The mattress barely dipped as you slid onto it, positioning yourself beside his sleeping form.

You started with his shoulder. Just your lips, soft and barely-there, pressing a kiss to the warm skin.

Then another, and another, a trail of feather-light kisses working their way down his chest.

He stirred and his fingers twitched. But he didn't wake.

You reached the dip of his lower back. You took the edge of the fabric and pulled it down.

💋 (ik why ur here)

He slept naked he always did, said it made him feel free and his body was laid out before you like a gift.

You shifted lower, settling between his legs. Your hand found him and you pressed a gentle kiss to the head.

He smelled like skin and soap. You took him into your mouth.

He was soft enough that you could fit all of him easily, your lips stretched around the base, your tongue cradling the shaft.

You sucked. Gently at first, a slow, steady pressure that made your cheeks hollow.

Above you, Jaafar's breathing changed.

"Mmnn... wha..."

You didn't stop. Your tongue worked along the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein that ran from base to tip, and you felt him stir against your palate.

He was getting harder, the softness giving way to rigid heat, expanding until your jaw ached pleasantly with the stretch.

"Baby...?" His voice was groggy, confused, thick with sleep. His hips twitched, an involuntary movement. "What are you— nnngh—"

You pulled off him just long enough to look up. His eyes were open now, still half-lidded, still fighting off the last dregs of sleep and he was staring down at you with an expression of pure, bewildered wonder.

His curls were a disaster. His lips were parted. His chest was already rising and falling faster than it had been a moment ago.

"Happy birthday," you murmured, and then your mouth was on him again.

This time you didn't hold back. You took him deep, as deep as you could, letting the head of his cock bump against the back of your throat.

Your hand wrapped around the base, he was too long to fit all of him in your mouth, but you made up for it with your grip, twisting slightly on each upstroke, your tongue flat against the sensitive underside.

"Fuuuuuck— baby— aaaaah." His voice cracked on the moan. His hands flew to your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

You hummed around his cock. He bucked up into your mouth, and the sound he made was halfway between a sob and a prayer.

"Baby— I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna— fuuuuck!"

His hips stuttered. His thighs tensed against your shoulders. And then he was cumming, hot and thick and salty-bitter across your tongue, pulse after pulse, his cock twitching against your palate, his whole body shuddering through it.

You swallowed every drop, working him through it with gentle suction until the last spasm had passed and he was lying limp against the mattress, gasping for air.

"Good morning," you said, pulling off him with a wet pop.

"That's one way to put it." His voice was wrecked, hoarse and trembling. He was staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe.

"I think you just killed me. I think I'm dead. This is heaven and I'm dead."

"You're not dead. Yet." You crawled up his body, pressing kisses to his hip, his stomach, his chest, his collarbone, until you were face to face with him.

His eyes were finally fully open now, dark and soft and still slightly glazed. "Happy birthday, Jaafar."

"Best birthday ever," he whispered. "And it's not even seven AM."

You kissed him. He could taste himself on your tongue, and he groaned into your mouth, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other sliding down to grip your bare ass.

"You're naked," he observed when you finally broke for air.

"Very observant."

"Why are you naked?"

"Because I've got a whole day planned for you, and the dress code is 'anything you want.'" You kissed the tip of his nose and rolled off the bed. "Now get up. Breakfast is ready."

"Breakfast?"

"Your favorite. I've been up since five."

"You've been up since five making me breakfast?"

"And setting the table. And arranging the flowers. And—" You glanced at the clock.

"We've got a schedule to keep, birthday boy. Shower. Brush your teeth. Meet me in the kitchen in twenty minutes."

He sat up slowly, the duvet pooling around his waist, his softening cock still glistening from your mouth.

The morning light caught his face, illuminating the sharp angle of his jaw and the soft wonder in his eyes.

"I love you," he said. "You know that, right?"

"I know." You paused at the bedroom door, looking back at him over your shoulder. "I love you too. Now move that pretty ass."

———

You'd pushed the breakfast table against the bay window, where the morning sun was now streaming through the glass in warm, golden shafts.

A white tablecloth covered the surface and in the center sat a small vase of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals catching the light.

Two place settings were laid out with the good china, the ones you'd registered for last spring and had used maybe twice.

Candles flickered in crystal holders, their vanilla scent mingling with the rich, savory aroma of the food you'd spent the last two hours preparing.

His favorite breakfast: ackee and saltfish with fried dumplings and callaloo, the way his grandmother used to make it.

You'd called his mom three days ago for the recipe, and you'd practiced twice since then, determined to get it right.

Beside the main dish sat a platter of fresh fruit, mango slices fanned out like butterfly wings, pineapple chunks glistening with juice, strawberries cut into perfect hearts.

Fresh-squeezed orange juice sparkled in a glass pitcher.

A pot of coffee steamed gently on a warming trivet.

Jaafar walked into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Baby." His voice was barely a whisper. "When did you— how did you—"

"I told you. I've been up since five." You pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit. "Now eat before it gets cold."

He sat. He stared at the food. He stared at the sunflowers. He stared at you moving around the kitchen with the kind of casual confidence that made his heart stutter in his chest.

"I don't deserve you," he said.

"You deserve the world. Sit and eat."

He ate three servings of ackee and saltfish, four dumplings, half the fruit platter, two cups of coffee. (Fucking fatass . Jkjkjk)

Between bites, he kept looking at you with that same expression of soft wonder, like he couldn't quite believe any of this was real.

"So what are we doing today?" he asked, sopping up the last of the saltfish with a piece of fried dough.

"It's a surprise."

"Baby—"

"You'll find out when we get there." You leaned across the table and kissed the corner of his mouth, licking away a crumb of fried dumpling. "Trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then finish your coffee. We've got places to be."

————

Rodeo Drive was already bustling.

The air was warm and dry. You'd dressed for the occasion, a burgundy colored sundress that hugged your curves and made your S/C skin glow, hoops brushing your shoulders, your hair freshly re-done.

Jaafar was in a simple white t-shirt and jeans, the outfit he'd thrown together in five minutes because he'd spent the rest of his twenty-minute window staring at you. He still looked like he'd stepped off a magazine cover.

"Okay," you said, tugging him toward the first store. "We're starting here."

"Baby, you don't have to buy me anything—"

"It's your birthday. I'm buying you everything."

And you did. You bought him a leather jacket from Saint Laurent, butter-soft black lambskin that fit his shoulders like it had been tailored specifically for him.

You bought him sneakers from Balenciaga and boots from Prada and a watch from the Rolex boutique that made his eyes go wide as dinner plates.

He tried to protest every single time, and every single time you silenced him with a kiss and a swipe of your credit card.

"This is too much," he said for the dozenth time as you left the third store, his arms now laden with shopping bags. "Baby, seriously, this is insane."

"Nothing is too much for you."

"The watch alone cost—"

"You've been working sixteen-hour days for six months straight. You've learned to moonwalk for a role. You've transformed yourself into a legend. You deserve nice things."

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing a tourist to swerve around you, and cupped his face in your hands.

"Let me spoil you. Just for today. Let me show you how proud I am of you."

His eyes went glassy. He blinked rapidly, his lashes damp. "I'm not gonna cry on Rodeo Drive."

"You can cry on Rodeo Drive if you want to."

"I'm not gonna cry on Rodeo Drive."

He cried on Rodeo Drive. Just a little. Just enough that you had to pretend not to notice while he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

————

Brunch was a sprawl of small plates and bottomless mimosas at a table tucked under a canopy of fairy lights.

The smells of truffle oil and fresh bread and wood-fired pizza weaving through the air.

Jaafar fed you bites of his prosciutto-wrapped melon and call it romance.

"Best birthday so far?" you asked, sipping your third mimosa.

"Best birthday of my life. And it's only one o'clock."

"We've still got the whole evening ahead of us."

"What's this evening?"

"Nice try. You'll find out."

He groaned dramatically, slumping back in his chair. "You're killing me."

"You love it."

"I do." He caught your hand across the table, his thumb tracing the ring on your finger, you hadn't taken off since the night he'd put it there. "I really, really do."

————

The bathroom was a cloud of steam and the sweet, floral scent of jasmine-scented bubbles.

Candles lined every surface. The tub was filled to the brim, mountains of white bubbles threatening to spill over the sides, and the water was hot.

Jaafar was already in the tub, his arms draped over the edges, his head tipped back against a rolled-up towel. His eyes were closed. His lips were curved into a small, contented smile.

The bubbles came up to his chest, obscuring everything below, but you could see the edges of his collarbones.

"You gonna stand there staring, or you gonna get in?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"Both."

You dropped your robe. It pooled around your feet in a puddle of silk, and you stepped into the tub, one leg at a time, the hot water swallowing you inch by inch.

You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

His arms came around you immediately, his hands finding your thighs under the bubbles.

"This is heaven," he murmured against your ear.

"Mmm."

"Thank you. For today. For everything. I don't say it enough."

"You say it plenty."

"Not as much as I feel it." His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear.

"I love you. I love waking up next to you. I love watching you cook. I love the way you laugh when you've had too many mimosas."

"I did not have too many mimosas."

"You absolutely did.. And you were being drunk."

"But cute."

"And cute," he agreed. His hands slid higher on your thighs, fingertips tracing the crease where your legs met your hips. "So fucking cute."

His touch was light at first, just teasing, tracing patterns on your skin.

Then his fingers dipped between your thighs, finding your folds through the slick, soapy water, and you gasped.

"Jaafar—"

"It's my birthday." His voice had gone low and rough, the way it always did when he wanted you.

💋 (ik why ur here)

"You've been spoiling me all day. Let me spoil you a little."

He didn't wait for an answer. His fingers parted your folds, finding your clit, circling it.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, a moan slipping from your lips.

"Nnnngh— that's— aaaaah—"

"You're so wet. Is that from the bath, or is that all for me?"

"Both— fuuuuck."

His other hand came up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple until it pebbled under his touch.

His fingers on your clit, his hand on your breast, his lips on your neck, it was overwhelming.

The water sloshed around you as your hips bucked, bubbles spilling over the edge of the tub.

"I want to be inside you," he breathed. "Turn around. Ride me."

You turned, water cascading everywhere, bubbles clinging to your skin like lace.

You straddled his hips, and he was already hard, already waiting, the tip breaking through the bubbles.

He was so long that even half-submerged, you could see the length of him, curving slightly up.

"Put it in," he commanded. "Take what you want. It's your day too."

"It's your day."

"Then do what I want. And what I want is to watch you fuck yourself on me."

You reached down between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around the base of him, positioning him at your entrance.

The head nudged against your folds, and you both groaned at the contact.

Then you sank down, inch by devastating inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside you.

"Mmmmmmppphhh— fuuuuuck— Jaaaaafar."

"God, you feel incredible. You're so tight. How are you always so tight? You still grip me like it's our first time again"

You started to move. Slow at first, rolling your hips in a rhythm that made the water lap against the sides of the tub.

Then faster, riding him with abandon, your hands braced on his shoulders, your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

The bubbles were mostly gone now, beaten into submission by the motion, and you could see everything,

He was sliding in and out of you, your slickness mixing with the bathwater, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks.

"Aaaah— aaah— aaaah— Jaafar, I'm gonna cum"

"Cum for me. I want to feel it— want to feel you squeeze me."

The orgasm hit you like a wave, rolling through your body from the base of your spine to the tips of your fingers.

Your cunt clamped down on him, pulsing, milking, and you screamed his name so loud it echoed off the bathroom tiles.

"Oh fuck J!"

"That's it. That's my girl." He was breathing hard, his hips still thrusting up into you through the aftershocks. "I'm close."

"Cum in me J. It's your birthday."

"Fuuuuck— baby I’m bout to cum"

His cock pulsed inside you, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy, filling you up until you could feel it dripping down your thighs and mixing with the bathwater.

He buried his face in your neck and groaned, his whole body shuddering, his hands clutching at your hips like you might disappear.

Y’all stayed like that for a long moment, panting, trembling. Then Jaafar started to laugh.

"What?" you asked.

"I've peaked. It's all downhill from here."

"Shut up." You kissed him, soft and sweet. "We've still got the whole evening ahead of us."

"There's more?"

"So much more."

————-

Neverland had been transformed.

Tonight, for Jaafar's birthday, it had been elevated to something out of a dream.

Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the courtyard, casting a warm golden glow over the assembled guests.

The Ferris wheel was lit up in shades of gold and cream, spinning slowly against the deepening twilight.

A live band played on a stage near the pond, all smooth saxophone and brushed drums, and the music drifted through the warm summer air, mingling with the scent of grilling meat and fresh flowers.

Tables had been set up on the lawn, draped in white linen and decorated with centerpieces of roses and hydrangeas.

The guest list was overly full with family, close friends, and a handful of cast members from the biopic.

And in the center of it all, Jaafar Jackson, thirty years old and glowing.

He'd changed into a cream-colored suit for the evening.

He looked like a prince. He looked like a star. He looked like the happiest man on earth.

"To Jaafar!" Jermaine raised his glass, and the crowd echoed the toast. "Thirty years old and already making us all proud. To many more years, many more movies, and many more reasons to celebrate!"

"Hear, hear!"

Jaafar ducked his head, embarrassed by the attention, his hand finding yours under the table. "This is too much," he murmured.

"Nothing is too much for you."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

Dinner was a feast, every side dish imaginable, catered by the best restaurant in Santa Barbara.

The cake was a three-tiered masterpiece, vanilla with strawberry filling, his favorite.

The toasts went on for nearly an hour, each one more heartfelt than the last.

Colman told a hilarious story about Jaafar accidentally moonwalking off the edge of the stage during rehearsals.

Nia got teary-eyed talking about how much he reminded her of Michael.

At one point, Jaafar's mom stood up and delivered a speech so beautiful that half the guests were openly weeping by the end.

They opened presents. They danced under the fairy lights. They rode the Ferris wheel at least twice, just because they could.

Jaafar was smiling so hard his cheeks must have been aching, but he never stopped, he just kept looking at you with those big brown eyes like he couldn't believe any of this was real.

"Best birthday ever?" you asked, leaning against him as the Ferris wheel reached its peak.

"Best birthday ever." He kissed your forehead. "But I have a confession."

"What?"

"I kind of want to get out of here. Just... sneak away. Just the two of us."

"You want to leave your own party?"

"I want to be with you." His voice was soft, almost shy. "I love all this. I love my family. But what I really want, more than anything, is just... you. Alone. Somewhere quiet."

You kissed him. "I know exactly the place."

——-

The smell of sizzling burgers and frying onions hung in the air, thick enough to taste.

Jaafar in his jeans and a fresh t-shirt, you back in your sundress.

You both slid into a corner booth, the vinyl squeaking under y’all’s weight, and ordered burgers and fries and chocolate milkshakes because it was his birthday and calories didn't count.

"This is perfect," Jaafar said, munching on a fry. "The whole day. Everything. You planned all this?"

"Every minute."

"When did you sleep?"

"Who needs sleep? I've got a birthday boy to spoil."

He reached across the table and took your hand. His thumb traced the ring on your finger, the one he'd given you on his nineteenth birthday, the one you hadn't taken off since.

"I'm gonna marry you someday. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"Soon. Like, really soon. Like, maybe we should start planning soon."

"Jaafar Jackson, are you proposing to me in a diner?"

"No. Not yet. But I'm telling you—" He squeezed your hand. "When I do propose, it's gonna be the second-best day of my life. Because today was the first."

Your eyes were burning. "You're making me cry in a diner."

"You made me cry on Rodeo Drive. It's only fair."

—————

Jaafar had you pinned against the bedroom wall, his body pressed against yours, his mouth hot and demanding on your neck.

Your dress was already unzipped, hanging off one shoulder.

His shirt was gone, discarded somewhere between the front door and the staircase.

"We're supposed to be packing," you gasped.

"Packing can wait."

"We have an early flight—"

"We'll sleep on the damn plane."

His hands were everywhere, cupping your breasts, gripping your hips, sliding up your thighs and pushing the hem of your dress higher.

He was already hard, pressing against your belly through his jeans, and you could feel the heat of him through the denim.

"Bedroom," you managed. "Now."

They stumbled down the hallway in a tangle of limbs, shedding clothes as they went, your dress in the hallway, his jeans in the doorway, your panties somewhere near the nightstand.

💋 (ik why ur here)

You were both naked, both breathing hard, both desperate.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back against the headboard, his dick jutting up toward his belly.

You knelt between his legs.

"Again?" he breathed. "Baby, you already—"

"It's your birthday. You're getting spoiled until midnight." You glanced at the clock, 12:37 AM.

"Okay, technically it's the day after your birthday. But we're still celebrating."

You took him in your hand first. Just holding him, feeling the weight and heat of him against your palm.

He was beautiful, long and curved, the shaft smooth except for that thick vein running up the underside, the head flushed and already slick with pre-cum.

A pearl of it beaded at the tip, and you leaned forward to lick it away.

"Gosh"

He tasted like salt and skin and something faintly sweet. You took the head into your mouth, sucking gently, your tongue swirling around the ridge.

He groaned, his hands fisting in the sheets, his hips twitching like he was fighting the urge to thrust deeper.

"You don't have to hold back." You pulled off just long enough to speak, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. "It's your birthday. Fuck my face if you want to."

"Baby—"

"I mean it."

You took him deep. All the way, until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat and your nose pressed against the trimmed hair at the base.

You held there, your throat convulsing around him.

"Holy fuck baby."

His hands flew to your head, tangling in your hair. He didn't push but when you hummed around his shaft, he bucked up into your mouth, a short, desperate thrust that made him hit the back of your throat again.

"Fuck I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" But his hips snapped up, fucking into your mouth.

He was so long that you couldn't take all of him, your hand wrapped around the base, stroking what wouldn't fit, twisting on every upstroke.

You let him use your mouth, let him chase his pleasure, your jaw aching and your eyes watering and your pussy absolutely dripping at the sounds he was making.

"Aaah— aaah baby, I'm gonna cum."

He was pulsing against your tongue, thick ropes of cum flooding your mouth.

You swallowed every drop, working him through it, milking him until he was trembling and oversensitive and begging you to stop.

"Too much— fuuuuck— too much."

You pulled off with a wet pop. "Good?"

"I'm seeing stars." He slumped against the headboard, chest heaving. "Actual stars."

"Good. Now it's my turn."

Before he could catch his breath, you'd pushed him onto his back and swung a leg over his face.

Your pussy was hovering inches above his mouth, still slick from the blowjob, still wet from the arousal that had been building since you'd gotten home.

"Eat me," you commanded.

He didn't need to be told twice.

His hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his face. His tongue was relentless, licking into you like you were his last meal.

He found your clit and sucked on it, hard. “Jaafar— right there please don’t stop!"

He didn't stop. His tongue circled your clit, his lips sealed around it, and his fingers found your entrance, sliding in deep, curling up to hit that spot inside you.

He sucked and licked and fingered you like it was his job, like he was starving, like there was nothing in the world he'd rather be doing than eating your pussy.

"Oh shit oh shit. I'm gonna cum— don't stop don't stop don't stop !"

The orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your whole body seized, your thighs clamping around his head, your cunt pulsing against his tongue, your juices flooding his mouth.

He lapped it all up, greedy, groaning into your pussy like the taste of you was the best thing he'd ever experienced.

You collapsed off him, landing on the bed in a heap of trembling limbs. "That was— fuuuuck."

"We're not done." He was already moving, already positioning himself over you. His was hard again "It's still my birthday celebration. And I want to fuck you."

"Yes— yes— please."

He flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. He pulled your hips up, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the pillows.

You felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, you were so wet, so slick from your orgasm and then he pushed inside in one smooth, devastating stroke.

"Fuck Jaafar!"

"You like that?" He pulled back and slammed in again, harder this time. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

"You like getting fucked like this? Bent over our bed like a good little slut?"

The dirty talk was new. It was also the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"Yesss— yesss— I love it— fuck me harder."

He fucked you harder. His hips slammed against your ass with a rhythm that was brutal and perfect, his cock hitting so deep you could feel him in your guts.

One hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise and the other reached around to find your clit.

"You're so tight— so wet— this pussy was made for me— only me."

"Only you— aaaah— only ever you."

"Gonna cum again?" His voice was strained, his rhythm starting to falter. "Gonna cum on this cock like a good girl?"

"Yesss."

Your second orgasm ripped through you, even stronger than the first. Your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him so tight that he groaned and nearly lost his rhythm.

"Fuuuuck that's it milk me."

But he didn't stop. He fucked you through your orgasm and kept going, driving into your sensitive, spasming pussy.

The overstimulation was almost too much but the pleasure was building again, a third orgasm coiling at the base of your spine.

"I can't— I can't— it's too much!"

"One more. Give me one more, baby. I know you can."

He flipped you onto your back, never pulling out, somehow.

Now he was on top of you, your legs hooked over his shoulders, his cock driving into you at an angle that made you see God.

"Look at me," he commanded. "Look at me when you cum."

Your eyes met his. His face was flushed, sweat beading on his forehead, his curls plastered to his temples.

He was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"Cum with me," you begged. "Please, Jaafar. cum with me."

The world went white.

Your third orgasm crashed over you, your whole body arching off the mattress.

Jaafar came at the same instant, he was pulsing inside you, his cum flooding your pussy in thick, hot spurts.

He groaned your name against your neck, his whole body shuddering, his hips still pumping weakly as he emptied himself inside you.

"Fuuuuuck baby I love you, I love you."

Y’all collapsed together. The clock on the nightstand read 2:47 AM.

The suitcases were still empty on the floor. They hadn't packed a single thing.

"We should probably..." Jaafar gestured vaguely at the suitcases.

"In the morning."

"Our flight's at eight."

"We'll pack in the morning."

"We have to leave for the airport at six."

"So we'll pack at five."

"That's three hours from now."

"Then we should probably rest." You snuggled closer to him, your head on his chest, your leg thrown over his hip.

His cum was still leaking out of you, warm and sticky on your inner thighs, and you didn't care one bit.

"Best birthday ever," Jaafar murmured, already half-asleep.

"You said that earlier."

"It's still true." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Best birthday of my life. Best day of my life. Best everything."

"Go to sleep, birthday boy."

"Not a boy. I'm thirty."

"You'll always be my boy."

"Fair enough." His arms tightened around you. "Love you."

"Love you more."

You both fell asleep like that, tangled together in the wreckage of y’all bed.