Until the gyno knows it’s him.

Michael Jackson voicelines in Ready 2 Rumble, where he used his real deep voice 😙

!volumewarning

PTDIMS 😍🤤🤤🤤

“Oh, angel,” Michael breathed, his warmth breath hot on your swollen lips. He rested on top of you, the plush of your breasts flush against his rough studded jacket, now loose on his broad frame.

“This one’s perfect,” he murmured, his doe eyes searching your expression as his palm continued to apply pressure to your soaked panties. The warm rush of blood spiked to your cheeks, the faint flush creeping up your neck accompanied with an ache at your lower belly.

“I-Mike, please,” you whined weakly, rolling your hips into his touch despite the setting. The public could catch you at any moment with the guards who were flanking you before now wandering around the store, still within close proximity.

You were close, and Michael could sense it.

He deliberately increased the pace, using a gloved hand to catch the waist band of your panties, tugging them down until your wet arousal snapped, the eggy like substance swiped on his finger, then brought to his lips.

“Come on, stop teasing,” you spoke barely above a whisper, a breathless moan leaving your lips as he rolled his hips into yours, a bulge growing in his trousers. Your hands flew to the sides of the mattress, gripping the fluff-like material until it left a crease.

“D’you like that?” He cooed, nipping lightly at the earlobe of your adorned ear. He continued the stimulation, finding the right angles to make you cum.

At the corner of your eye, you caught an employee stacking alarm clocks at the nearby shelves just a few aisles down. Your heart hammered against your ribs from both fear and arousal as you tried to warn Michael, to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge.

The thrill of getting caught only made him even more turned on. With more force, his lips crashed into yours, his tongue slipping through your lips and invaded your mouth, swirling around, saliva mixing together.

Despite the situation, a needy cry escaped your lips captured by Michael’s mouth as he continued to pleasure you with his hips. The coil inside your stomach grew like a crescendo until it finally snapped, leaving you arching off the bed, walls clenching around nothing.

The aftershocks of your orgasm left you spent and weak with a dizzying pleasure as Michael lifted you off the bed and onto your feet.

“See? I told you we wasn’t get caught,” he giggled, licking his lips. “And plus, if we did, I’m a lover not a fighter,” he gave you an affectionate kiss on the cheek as his fingers intertwined with his, walking hand in hand back to the wandering security.

After all, they’d be wondering where you were. If not that, they assumed that you were occupying a stall.

Mature Era Mix

For @mariejjackson

It looks like you just gave him the most juiciest passionate kiss ever that it made him love drunk af in front of the public and after that he does this and is a like “alr I’m back, yup I love my wife god bless”

ppl are sad summer is ending but im a tumblr user & october is coming up

(ᴘʀᴇᴠ) ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘɪɴ’ | ᴊᴀᴀꜰᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ

، summary𓈒 you are a rising black actress starring in hollywood’s biggest new romantic drama opposite jaafar jackson. on set, your chemistry is electric, the intimacy is breathtaking, and the world is convinced you are the perfect on screen couple. but when the director yells "cut," the romance doesn't stop for jaafar.

، pairing𓈒 stalker!jaafar jackson x actress!black!fem!reader

، warnings𓈒 no use of y/n, stalking, perv!jaafar, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, surveillance, unhealthy fixation, non-consensual monitoring, dubcon themes (both reader and jaafar have problems with following their scripts), sexual content, eventual toxic romance, dark themes, psychological manipulation.

، notes𓈒 i know yall tired of these previews…

، taglist𓈒 @divaaprincess , @uh444 @dirtydih , @cannonindeez , @myxstrx , @saigesspace , @junhuisfairy , @dicksapointed , @bbybeminee , @4ngelfacee , @lyneaa , @theonlyfemme , @mrsjacks0nn , @swavydadon , @xonyx-ravenx , @superstar-t20 , @li-da-savage , @blkkbratt , @yslamore , @niyahctrl , @yamumsfavourite1623 , @mirasjointtttttt , @saintwrld , @ilovemj07 , @tojiswifeforlife , @thabiddie23 , @melodiesmurakamis , @nodisdino , @narratedillusions , @shadesofcool51 , @lov0eueudeue (go here to be added!!)

look at me

✦ paring: mature!michael x fem!reader

✦ wc: ~2.5k

✦ warnings: 18+, smut, mature!michael (yes this is a warning i get all sorts of wild over this MY PUSSYS GONE CRAZY) glasses kink/fixation, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, explicit sexual language, praise, teasing, eye contact, reader is catastrophically down bad

✦ summary: michael has absolutely no idea what those glasses do to you. unfortunately for your dignity, he’s starting to notice you haven’t heard a word he’s said in weeks.

✦ a/n: thank you for [this request] bc while i was searching for a pic for the other fic i just wrote i was foaming at the mouth over his glasses. so reader is basically me with the serial numbers filed off. mature era michael in those fuckass glasses does something deeply unreasonable to me and apparently instead of seeking help i wrote 2.5k words about it. anyway if you need me i’ll be staring respectfully (lying).

you’d been losing your goddamn mind for weeks.

it started the first time he walked into the living room wearing those thin frames. that soft, thoughtful look in his eyes as he adjusted the glasses higher on the bridge of his nose with one elegant finger. something about the way the lenses caught the light and framed those dark, knowing eyes turned your brain into static.

you’d never said a word.
he had no idea.

the worst part was that apparently, you weren’t nearly as subtle as you thought you were. a few nights ago, michael had been sitting across from you talking while going over something in his notebook, glasses low on the bridge of his nose. you’d been pretending to listen.

you really had.

but then he’d paused to read something, brow furrowing slightly as his eyes moved over the page. one finger came up and pushed the frames higher on his nose.

and that was it.

whatever he’d been saying simply ceased to exist.

you stared.

at his eyes behind the lenses. at the concentration on his face. his hair falling into his face, the way his lips moved while he spoke even though you had stopped processing a single word coming out of them.

eventually, the room went suspiciously quiet.

you blinked.

michael was staring back at you.

“baby.”

“hm?” you mumbled, clueless

his eyebrows lifted. “have you even been listening to me?”

“of course.” you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

“yeah?”

“mhm.”

he closed the notebook slowly, clearly unconvinced. “okay…then what was i just talking about?”

your mind went completely blank.

you blinked, “…ssssssscheduling.”

there was a beat.

michael tilted his head, “yeah, that was five minutes ago.”

shit.

“well, you were talking for a long time.” you fidgeted next to him.

“i was talking about dinner.”

“right. dinner. obviously. god i’m starving!” you said standing up, walking towards the kitchen

he stared at you over the top of his glasses now, and somehow that was even worse.

“you alright?”

“perfect!” you said leaning out from the cabinet

“you sure?”

“michael, please continue talking.”

his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “about dinner?”

“about whatever you want.”

“you ain’t listenin’ anyway.”

“i am…now.”

he gave you one last suspicious look before opening his notebook again.

from the kitchen you stared, you lasted approximately thirty seconds.

then he pushed the glasses up his nose again.

you’d tried everything to get over it.

you’d deliberately sit farther away when he was reading. you’d find something to do in the kitchen. you’d turn the television up and force yourself to stare at it instead of him. once, you’d even gone upstairs early because he’d pushed the glasses up his nose while concentrating on something and you’d felt your entire body react before your brain could catch up.

it was ridiculous.

they were glasses, that was what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

except then he’d glance over the top of whatever he was reading and ask you some completely innocent question, eyebrows lifting behind those thin frames, and every rational thought in your head would disappear.

“you alright, baby?”

“mhm.” you’d nod casually. really casual. not suspicious at all.

“you sure?”

“michael, read your damn book.”

he’d give you that little amused smile and go right back to it, completely unaware that you were sitting six feet away trying not to combust.

so you started keeping track without meaning to.

the little crease between his brows when he concentrated. the way he sometimes looked over the top of the lenses instead of through them. the absentminded way he pushed them back into place with one finger whenever they slipped down his nose.

every tiny movement made it worse.

you’d sit across from him pretending to scroll your phone while your pulse hammered between your legs. the way he looked down at the page, the quiet little hum he made when something interested him… it made you feral. you’d bite the inside of your cheek until it hurt just to keep yourself from crawling into his lap and begging.

and tonight, apparently, whatever remained of your self-control finally gave out.

michael was on the couch in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white shirt, barefoot, glasses perched perfectly on his face as he flipped through a thick book. the warm lamp light made the frames gleam. he looked so calm. so completely unaware that you were staring at him like you wanted to ruin him.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

you stood, walked over slowly, and dropped to your knees between his spread legs without a word. his eyes flicked up from the page, surprised but soft.

“hey, baby… everything…okay?”

you didn’t answer. you just leaned in and kissed him, deep and hungry, climbing into his lap so you were straddling his thighs. the book slid forgotten to the floor. your hands framed his face, thumbs brushing the edges of the frames as you licked into his mouth.

he kissed you back immediately, hands settling on your waist, still gentle. still oblivious.

when you finally pulled back, both of you breathing harder, he reached up automatically to take the glasses off.

“no.” you stopped his hand, your voice came out sharp. almost desperate.

he froze, fingers hovering near his temple. “no?”

“leave them on.”

a slow blink. confusion flickered across his face. “okay…?”

you kissed him again, harder, grinding down against the growing hardness in his sweats. your fingers stayed at the sides of his face, keeping the glasses exactly where they were. every time he tried to deepen the kiss or tilt his head, you adjusted them back into place with trembling hands.

“baby,” he murmured against your lips, half-laughing, half-concerned. “what’s going on with you tonight?”

you rocked against him, feeling him thicken fully under you. “you. looking like that.”

he still didn’t get it. of course he didn’t. michael never thought of himself that way.

you tugged his shirt up and off, his hands slid under your silk nightgown, finding you already soaked through your panties. a soft, surprised sound left him when his fingers slipped inside the fabric and felt how wet you were.

“fuck… you’re dripping.”

you nodded, kissing along his jaw, careful not to knock the glasses. “because of these.” your fingertip tapped the frame lightly. “you have no idea what they do to me.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, dark eyes wide behind the lenses. “my…glasses?”

“your glasses,” you breathed. “every single time you put them on i want to climb you. i sit there watching you read and i get so fucking wet it hurts. i think about you keeping them on while you fuck me. while you look down at me with that quiet, focused face and just… take me.”

michael’s mouth parted. a flush crept up his neck. for a second he just stared at you, processing, the glasses making his expression somehow softer and more intense at the same time.

then his voice dropped, low and rough. “you’ve been sitting across from me for weeks getting turned on by this?” he pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh.

you nodded eagerly, shameless now.

he exhaled hard, almost a laugh, but it came out shaky. “jesus christ.”

so, he didn’t take them off.

instead he flipped you onto your back on the couch in one smooth motion, settling between your thighs. the glasses stayed perfectly in place as he looked down at you. you reached up and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. thick, hard, already leaking at the tip.

he pushed your panties aside and rubbed the head through your folds, teasing, watching your face the whole time through the frames. slow drags up and down, coating himself in you, the blunt head catching on your clit every few strokes until your hips were twitching up for more.

“tell me again,” he murmured, voice already strained. “tell me what you want.”

“keep the glasses on,” you gasped. “fuck me with them on. look at me while you do it.”

he pushed in slow and deep, stretching you open in one long, deliberate glide until he was buried to the hilt. you both groaned. his hands braced on either side of your head, the frames reflecting the soft light as he stayed completely still for a moment, just letting you feel every inch of him.

then he started to move, steady, deep strokes that made your toes curl. not rushed. not frantic. just long, rolling thrusts that dragged his cock along every sensitive spot inside you. you could feel the way he watched you through the lenses, those dark eyes tracking every flutter of your lashes, every parted breath.

“god, look at you,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “you’re clenching around me so tight just because i’m wearing these.”

you nodded frantically, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to pull him deeper. “don’t take them off. please. need them on.”

he fucked you slower after that, drawing it out on purpose. every time he bottomed out he ground his hips in a tight circle, pressing against your clit, and every time he pulled almost all the way out he paused, just long enough for you to feel the empty ache, before sliding back in with that same unhurried intensity. the glasses never left his face. every few thrusts they started to slip down the bridge of his nose and he’d adjust them with one hand without breaking rhythm, the simple, casual motion making you moan louder every single time.

you could feel the sweat starting to bead at his temples, the way the frames sat slightly crooked now, but he didn’t care. he just kept looking at you like he was memorizing the way you fell apart under him.

“you been thinking about this…” he murmured, voice getting rougher as he kept that same deep, measured pace. “sitting across from me all those nights… wet for me and i had no idea. just reading my book while you were losing your mind?”

“yes-” your voice cracked as he angled his hips and dragged over that perfect spot inside you again and again. “i was so close to just… dropping to my knees and begging.”

he gave a soft, shaky laugh against your mouth, still thrusting, still watching. “should’ve. would’ve given it to you the second you asked.”

you came the first time like that, sharp and sudden, pulsing hard around him while he watched every second of it through the lenses, never speeding up, just riding you through it with those same deep, rolling strokes until you were trembling and oversensitive.

he didn’t stop.

he just kept going, slower now, gentler, letting you come down while he stayed buried deep. when your breathing evened out a little he started moving again, still looking down at you through the glasses, still completely focused. the second climb was longer, sweeter, almost unbearable. he kissed you soft between thrusts, whispered filthy little things against your lips about how good you felt, how he could feel every time you clenched just from the sight of the frames on his face.

you came again with a broken sob, clinging to his shoulders, and this time he followed, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a low, guttural sound, forehead pressed to yours so the frames brushed your skin. his hips stuttered through it, still pushing in as deep as he could go, filling you until it spilled out around him.

for a long moment neither of you moved. he stayed inside you, breathing hard, glasses slightly fogged at the edges from the heat between you. you could feel him still twitching, still half-hard, and the way he kept looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

then he gave a soft, disbelieving laugh against your mouth.

“i’m never taking these off again when you’re in the room.”

you smiled, still trembling, and kissed him slow, fingers gently adjusting the frames back into place for him.

“good.”

he lifted his head and looked at you through them.

really looked at you.

and slowly, realization seemed to settle over his face.

“all those nights,” he murmured.

you blinked. “what?”

“when i’d be reading and you’d suddenly get up and leave the room.” his mouth twitched. “that was because of the glasses?”

your face burned.

michael stared at you for another second before breaking into that soft, disbelieving laugh, dropping his forehead against yours, “oh, baby.”

“don’t.” you whined and covered your face

“weeks?” he asked, sounding delighted now. “you let yourself suffer for weeks instead of just telling me?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

he started to reach for the frames.

your hand immediately caught his wrist.

michael froze.

you stared at him.

he stared back.

then that knowing little smile slowly returned to his mouth.

“right,” he murmured, lowering his hand. “almost forgot.”

you carefully pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose yourself.

“you’re never ever taking these off again.”

his eyebrows lifted behind the lenses.

“you’re that serious?”

“i’m so serious.”

he laughed and kissed you before you could threaten him.

the next morning, he wore them to breakfast. you noticed the second you walked into the kitchen. michael was standing at the counter pouring himself something to drink, dressed casually, humming under his breath like everything was perfectly normal.

glasses on.

no book.

no notebook.

not a single goddamn thing in front of him that required reading. you stopped in the doorway.

he glanced over.

his eyes met yours through the lenses.

“morning, baby.” he smirked.

you narrowed your eyes. “what are you reading?”

michael looked down at the completely empty counter.

then back at you.

the corner of his mouth twitched.

“nothin’”

the bastard didn’t even have anything to read.

tag list: @jaelyn777 @bowilo @apyr-b-mockbe @myeyesmustdecieveme @michaelssugarbby @theladyinhislifeposts @painfullycalculatingsummit @y2k-angel @sunsetdrivers @sincerelyybeloved @imsocool123467 @smoothcriminalgf @alientee @ladybugg0rl @whoisit-itsaria @sarcasmismyfirstlove

comment to be added / removed !

Marlon Jackson in Student Confidential (1987)

ʙᴀʙʏ ɢɪʀʟ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ | ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ¹

، summary𓈒 this man was literally the talk of the town, that town being new orleans; everybody loved him. he was hands down the most generous, gentlest soul you’d ever meet, or so you thought. you would’ve bet your last dollar he didn't have a mean bone in his body, let alone think he’d ever kidnap you. but baby, you thought wrong.

، pairing𓈒 yandere!michael jackson x black!fem!reader

، warnings𓈒 captivity, non consensual restraint, stalking, gaslighting, manipulation, historical violence (murder of an ex partner & more), forced dependency, complex trauma, loss of autonomy, drugging (chloroform), torture, dead dove do not eat or wtv.

، notes𓈒 this is like such a shitty plot, i'm sorry...i couldn't really think of anything else. here’s the preview of you’d like to read that…it’s nice..

، taglist𓈒 @divaaprincess , @myxstrx , @uh444 @dirtydih , @cannonindeez , @saigesspace , @junhuisfairy , @dicksapointed , @bbybeminee , @4ngelfacee , @lyneaa , @theonlyfemme , @mrsjacks0nn , @swavydadon , @xonyx-ravenx , @superstar-t20 , @li-da-savage , @blkkbratt , @yslamore , @niyahctrl , @yamumsfavourite1623 , @mirasjointtttttt , @saintwrld , @sukunasstomachtongue , @chocotragedy , @ooooglymoooogly (go here to be added!!)

want more? go here! 𐃘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 + 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ | ᴊᴇʀᴍᴀᴊᴇꜱᴛʏ & ʀᴀɴᴅʏ ᴊʀ

، summary𓈒 you caught your man in your bed with another woman, your two best friends think of a better way for revenge than taking his life and risking you going to jail.

، pairing𓈒 pervy bsf!randy jackson jr x black!fem!reader x pervy bsf!jermajesty jackson

، warnings𓈒 SMUT, 18+, no use of y/n, mean!randy, mean/soft dom!jermajesty, smut, kissing, oral sex (m & f receiving), consumption of alcohol, use of “mama, ma, & baby” backshots, uhh pussy sex, dick sex. Some nasty shit 😬 a two man but the other girl couldn’t make it fr, Eiffel Tower, threesome. (The brothers are not touching…pls be so fr)

، notes𓈒 gulp – take this while i finish yandere!michael uh yea...just scroll if your don't like what you see lmao (cs im sorry idk what came over me) - they not touching!! They are just cracking the reader n this is all fiction!!! SO LETS ALL JS KISS OKAY?? Just think of it as the uhhh damon, elena and stefan shit or the bonrad n that other nigga??? They js fucking on the same girl, okay?? Maj n randy r just doing it at the same time and in the same room…back to back…BYE-

، taglist𓈒 @divaaprincess , @uh444 @dirtydih , @cannonindeez , @saigesspace , @junhuisfairy , @dicksapointed , @bbybeminee , @4ngelfacee , @lyneaa , @theonlyfemme , @mrsjacks0nn , @swavydadon , @xonyx-ravenx , @superstar-t20 , @li-da-savage , @blkkbratt , @yslamore , @niyahctrl , @yamumsfavourite1623 (go here to be added!!)

want more? go here! 𐃘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 + 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

warnings: smut, cheating

you showed up at the private villa pool like the invite had been meant for just the two of you. jaafar’s text had been short, almost lazy—come swim, the water’s perfect—and you’d packed the tiny black bikini that sat high on your hips, the one he always stared at too long.

you didn’t know she would be there until you stepped through the glass doors and saw her already stretched out on a lounger in a white one-piece, laughing at something one of the guys said. your stomach dropped hard.

you kept your face smooth, smiled when she waved, but inside everything went quiet and sulky, the kind of quiet that sat heavy in your chest and refused to leave.

jaafar was already in the water, wet hair slicked back, arms braced on the edge while he talked to someone. the second you walked out his eyes found you, dragging slow over every inch the way they always did when no one else was supposed to notice. you didn’t look at him long.

you dropped your towel on an empty chair far from her and sat down, legs stretched out, pretending to scroll your phone while the sun started baking your skin.

carlo came over a minute later with a bottle of sunscreen, the same guy who always offered to drive you home after late nights. “you’re gonna burn,” he said, grinning.

without thinking too hard you tilted your head and held the bottle out. “do my back?”

he didn’t hesitate. you turned, gathered your hair over one shoulder, and felt his hands slide the cool lotion across your shoulders, down the line of your spine, over the thin strings of the bikini. his palms were broad and casual, nothing lingering, but you felt the weight of someone watching the whole time.

you didn’t need to look to know it was jaafar.

when you finally glanced toward the water his eyes were locked on carlo’s hands, jaw tight, the easy smile completely gone.

carlo finished with a light pat on your shoulder. “all good.” you thanked him soft and stretched out again, but the air had already shifted.

a minute later jaafar climbed out of the pool, water running down his chest, and walked straight past everyone toward the outdoor shower like he needed space.

you waited until people started drifting toward the kitchen for drinks before you stood and followed him around the side of the villa, where the shower sat half-hidden by tall plants.

he was rinsing off, back to you, when you stepped into the small space. “you’re staring,” you said, voice low.

he turned slow, water still running over his shoulders. “and you’re letting carlo put his hands all over you like it’s nothing.”

“it is nothing.” you crossed your arms. “he was helping. unlike some people who invite their fiancée and forget to mention it.”

his laugh came out short and sharp. “so that’s what this is. you’re sulking because she’s here.”

“i’m not sulking.” you stepped closer, the spray catching the edge of your hip. “i just didn’t know i was third-wheeling today. thought this was supposed to be casual. like we always are.”

“casual.” he repeated the word like it tasted wrong. “you show up in that bikini knowing exactly what it does, then let some other guy rub lotion into your skin while i’m ten feet away. real casual, princess.”

“don’t call me that right now.” your voice went tighter. “you don’t get to be jealous when you’re the one who brought her. when you’re the one who still goes home to her every night. we’re friends with benefits, jaafar. that’s it. you don’t own me.”

he moved fast. one second he was under the water, the next he had you backed against the cool tile wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your waist hard enough to leave a print. water poured over both of you, soaking the black fabric until it clung transparent. “say that again,” he said, voice rough and low. “tell me i don’t own this when i’m the only one who gets to ruin you.”

“you don’t.” you pushed at his chest but didn’t put real force behind it. “you have her. i have my own shit. this is just sex when it’s convenient.”

“bullshit.” his thumb dug into the soft skin above your hipbone. “you think i don’t see the way you look at me when she’s not watching? you think i don’t feel how wet you get the second i touch you? you walk around acting like this is nothing and then you let another man put his hands on what’s mine.”

“not yours.” the words came out sharper than you meant. “and if you’re so fucking bothered, maybe stop inviting me places when she’s around. or better—stop texting me at two in the morning when you’re hard and she’s asleep next to you.”

his eyes flashed. for a second it looked like he might actually walk away. instead he shut the water off with a hard twist of the handle and crowded you tighter against the wall, body dripping onto yours. “you want to fight? fine. but you’re not walking out of here until i remind you exactly what this is.”

you opened your mouth to argue again but his hand was already sliding down, yanking the soaked bikini bottoms to the side. the air hit you and then his fingers did—two of them pushing in without warning, thick and rough, curling just enough to make your knees weaken.

a soft, broken moan slipped out of you before you could stop it.

you tried to bite it back, tried to keep your voice steady and tough, but it still came out shaky. he swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you dirty and open, tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to shut you up for good. a low, rough groan left him as he felt how wet you already were.

“still nothing?” he muttered against your lips, working his fingers deeper. “still just convenient?”

you didn’t answer.

your hands were already on his swim trunks, shoving them down enough to free him.

he was hard and heavy in your palm, the size of him making your stomach flip the way it always did. you stroked once, twice, feeling how thick he was, how the head was already slick. he groaned low and pulled his fingers free, then lifted you like you weighed nothing, pinning you to the wall with your legs around his waist. another deep groan rumbled from his chest as your body pressed against his.

the head of him nudged against you, thick and blunt, and then he was pushing in—slow at first, stretching you open inch by thick inch until you were full of him, the burn of it making your head tip back against the tile. a longer, shaky moan spilled from your throat as he sank deeper.

you clenched your jaw, trying to sound tougher than you felt, forcing the next sound to come out lower, almost like a growl, but it still cracked at the end. a rough, low groan slipped from jaafar’s throat as he bottomed out, the sound thick and open. he didn’t give you time to adjust.

once he was buried he started moving, deep and hard, the wet slap of skin loud in the small space, water still dripping from both of you. every thrust dragged against something that made your thighs shake around him, and soft, needy moans kept slipping out of you with every push no matter how hard you tried to keep them down.

he answered each one with a low, gravelly moan of his own, the sound vibrating against your neck.

“look at me,” he ordered, voice rough. you did, and the look in his eyes was pure possession, dark and angry and hungry all at once. “you let someone else touch you and then you come to me soaking. you think i don’t know what you need?”

you tried to speak, tried to keep the edge in your voice, but only a broken moan came out when he snapped his hips harder, driving deeper, the thick length of him stretching you until it felt like he was everywhere. “f-fuck… still don’t own me,” you managed, voice strained and breathless, trying so hard to sound defiant even as another moan tore out right after the words.

he laughed low against your neck, the sound mean and knowing, mixed with another deep groan as he thrust harder.

“there it is. still trying to sound tough while you’re moaning for me.” his hand slid up to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb under your jaw so you couldn’t look away. the other hand gripped your ass, spreading you wider for every filthy thrust. a low, continuous moan left him with every deep push. “keep talking. tell me you’re not mine while you sound like that.”

another moan spilled out of you, higher this time, raw and open, and you hated how soft it sounded. you tried again, voice cracking, “i’m not—ah—yours” but the words dissolved into a longer, shakier moan when he thrust especially deep. he answered with a rough, open-mouthed groan right against your ear.

“that doesn’t sound like nothing. sounds like you need me. look how full you are.” another deep groan spilled from him as he drove in hard.

it was messy—water and spit and the wet sound of him fucking into you over and over, the tile cold against your back while his body stayed burning hot. he leaned in and bit the side of your neck, hard enough to mark, then licked over it while he kept moving, deep and relentless.

a low, continuous groan rumbled from his chest with every deep push. “this is what you come for. me. not some guy with sunscreen.”

your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails biting skin. every time he bottomed out the stretch made another moan fall from your lips, soft and desperate, the size of him forcing you open wider, the drag of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in.

he kept talking low between his own rough moans—how tight you were, how you clenched like you were trying to keep him inside. the wet sounds and the slap of skin and your continuous, breathless moans filled the small space until it felt thick with it.

he shifted his grip and fucked into you harder, the angle making every thrust hit deeper, the thick length of him dragging against every sensitive place inside you until it started to feel like too much, the pressure building so sharp and constant that your body kept twitching and your moans turned higher, almost frantic.

your head fell forward onto his shoulder and another long, shaky moan spilled out against his skin. “j-jaafar wait—it’s too—ah!” you tried to beg, voice breaking, but he only held you tighter and kept going, loving the way you were falling apart in his arms, the way your tough little front kept cracking with every deep push. a deep, strained groan left him as he felt how tightly you were gripping him.

“already begging?” he murmured, voice rough and pleased, thrusting harder just to pull another broken sound out of you. a low moan slipped from him between the words. “i love watching you try to hold on and then lose it. you’re taking all of me so fucking well.” another rough groan escaped him as he bottomed out again.

you shook your head weakly, another desperate moan ripping out of you as the intensity kept climbing, every thick inch of him stretching and pressing until your thighs trembled harder and you couldn’t stop the soft, pleading sounds.

“please—jaafar—i can’t—it’s too much” the words came out in a breathless rush between moans, half-begging, half-moaning, but he only groaned low and kept moving, deep and relentless, clearly loving every second of watching you come undone. his moans grew rougher, more open, matching the pace of his hips.

he pulled your face back up and kissed you again, messy and open, swallowing every broken sound you made while still murmuring against your mouth, “keep trying to sound mean. makes it better when you break.” another deep groan spilled from him as he drove in hard.

when he came it was with a low, rough groan against your mouth, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could go and stayed there, pulsing thick and hot inside you.

you moaned softly into the kiss, body still trembling around him, the last of your tough front completely gone.

he didn’t pull out right away. he stayed pressed against you, breathing hard, one hand still on your throat like he wasn’t ready to let go, a final quiet moan still leaving his chest.

water dripped from the showerhead onto the both of you. somewhere beyond the plants people were laughing, music playing, her voice carrying faintly.

jaafar’s forehead rested against yours for a second longer, eyes closed, before he finally eased out of you. the loss of him left you aching and full at the same time, a last quiet moan leaving your lips at the sudden emptiness.

he fixed your bikini bottoms with careful fingers, then his own trunks, and looked at you one more time—still angry, still hungry, still not done.

“next time you let someone else put their hands on you,” he said quietly, “i’m not gonna be this nice about it.”

then he walked back out into the sunlight like nothing had happened, leaving you against the wall with the taste of him still in your mouth, the ache of him still deep between your legs, and the echo of your own moans still hanging in the damp air.

part ii