Smutss

By all accounts, the awards ceremony had been a massive success. He’d handled the red carpet with his signature soft spoken grace, flashing that bright smile that instantly melted the cameras. He’d spent the evening holding your hand under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles. Jaafar was never one for public displays of affection, he was deeply private, fiercely protective, and preferred to keep the intimacy between you entirely behind closed doors. He didn't need to put on a show for the world to prove you were his.

Until tonight. Until Ryan.

Jaafar was currently caught in an interview with a prominent entertainment reporter, standing beneath the blinding glare of the media lights. His posture was perfectly elegant, his hands clasped casually in front of him, but his dark, liquid eyes were completely checked out of the conversation. He was looking past the reporter’s shoulder, across the VIP lounge, straight at you.

And straight at Ryan.

Ryan was one of your 'friends', a title Jaafar used in his head with a heavy dose of disdain. Ryan was the type of man who consistently overstepped, who treated the concept of personal boundaries like a loose suggestion. You, in all your sweet, trusting innocence, were entirely clueless. You genuinely believed Ryan was just an overly affectionate, hypersocial guy. You didn't see the calculation in his movements.

Jaafar did.

From across the room, Jaafar watched with an icy, detached focus as Ryan leaned in entirely too close, his shoulder nearly brushing yours as you stood by a high-top table. You were talking vividly, your eyes bright, gesturing with your hands as you recounted a story, completely unaware of how Ryan’s gaze was slowly tracking the movement of your lips. Then, Ryan reached out, his hand lingering just a fraction of an inch away from the bare skin of your waist, his fingers twitching as if he were just waiting for an invitation to touch you.

A dark, dangerous heat flared in the pit of Jaafar's stomach, but on the outside, his face remained a mask of polite composure.

'...and with the upcoming project, can fans expect something else?' the reporter asked, thrusting the microphone toward him.

Jaafar turned his head back to the reporter. He didn't lose his temper, he never did. Instead, he offered a smile. But it wasn't his real smile. It was a tight-lipped, flashing smirk that lasted exactly 0.2 seconds, never reaching his eyes, completely devoid of the warmth he usually radiated.

'We are focusing on finishing the project first, but we are definitely discussing more future projects,' jaafar said, his voice smooth, soft, and impeccably polite, yet clipped enough to signal the hard end of the conversation. He gave a small, formal nod. 'Thank you so much. excuse me.'

He didn't wait for a follow-up. He turned and began walking across the crowded VIP section. He didn't storm over, his stride was slow, deliberate and entirely graceful, but the sheer aura radiating off his broad shoulders was heavy enough to make people subtly step out of his way.

Before Ryan’s hand could actually make contact with your dress, a large, warm palm slid firmly around your waist.

The grip wasn't gentle. Jaafar’s long fingers dug deep into your hip, anchoring you against his side with an unyielding, possessive force that left absolutely no room for interpretation. You gasped softly at the suddenness of the touch, your head snapping up.

'Am I interrupting?' Jaafar cut in smoothly.

He looked directly at ryan. His face wore that same tight-lipped, fake smile. He didn't show his teeth. His lips were compressed into a thin, civil line, his dark eyes fixed on Ryan with a gaze so heavy it felt like a physical weight in the room.

Ryan straightened up, a bit flustered by the sudden shift in atmosphere, but he tried to play it cool. 'Hey, Jaafar. Man, congratulations on tonight. I was just telling Y/n you're a lucky guy.'

Jaafar’s grip on your waist tightened even further, his thumb pressing hard against your hip bone, pulling your thighs flush against his tailored trousers. It was a blatant, silent proclamation of ownership, a rare breach of his anti-pda rule that spoke volumes.

'Thank you, Ryan,' Jaafar replied, his voice incredibly soft, quiet, and civil. He didn't match Ryan's loud energy, he kept it entirely low, which somehow made it infinitely more terrifying. He let the silence hang for a beat, his unblinking stare raking over Ryan until the other man visibly swallowed. 'Um, we were actually just about to head back to the hotel. It's been a long night.'

'Oh, right, yeah, of course,' Ryan stammered, stepping back a full foot, completely intimidated by the quiet dominance rolling off the actor. 'Good seeing you guys.'

As Ryan disappeared into the crowd, you looked up at Jaafar, utterly bewildered. 'Jaafar, what was that? We didn't have to leave yet, and he was just trying to be nice...'

Jaafar didn't answer. He simply slid his hand down from your waist to wrap firmly around your wrist, guiding you toward the private exit with a quiet, unyielding momentum.

The ride back to the hotel in the luxury sedan was suffocatingly quiet.

The leather-scented interior was dim, lit only by the passing streetlights outside the tinted windows. Jaafar sat back against the seat, his long legs crossed, staring out into the night. His posture was relaxed, but the vein in his neck was prominent, and his jaw was set in a hard line.

'He was just telling me about this new restaurant that opened up downtown,' you said, trying to fill the heavy silence, your voice sounding small in the quiet car. 'He said we should all go sometime.'

'Mhm.' Jaafar didn't turn his head.

'And then he asked about your uncle's old studio, because he’s working on a new track...' You watched his profile, your heart doing a strange, nervous flutter. 'Jaafar? Are you okay? You're being really quiet.'

'Yeah.' A short, soft, clipped syllable.

'Are you tired?' You reached across the seat, placing your hand on his knee. The muscle beneath his suit pants was hard as stone, completely flexed.

'No.' He still didn't look at you, his eyes fixed on your hand.

You sighed, entirely clueless as to the depth of the storm brewing inside him. You figured he was just drained from the social battery required for an awards show.

When the car finally pulled up to the grand entrance of the luxury hotel, Jaafar stepped out, immediately reaching back inside to take your hand. He didn't rush, but his grip was firm and unbroken as he led you through the opulent lobby toward the elevators.

Once the doors slid shut, sealing the two of you inside the mirrored elevator alone, the silence became absolute.

You couldn't handle the distance anymore. You turned fully toward him, stepping into his personal space. You placed one hand flat against his chest, feeling the heavy, steady thudding of his heart beneath his dress shirt. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his sharp jawline, remembering the rich blend of his cologne.

'You're so quiet,' you whispered against his skin, your lips brushing his jaw as you spoke. 'What's wrong?'

Jaafar didn't move. He didn't wrap his arms around you, nor did he push you away. He just stood there, letting you press against him, looking down at you with dark, bottomless eyes that held a simmer so hot it made your breath hitch. He let out a slow, heavy sigh just as the elevator let out a soft ding, announcing your arrival at your floor.

He took your hand again, his palm warm, and guided you down the carpeted hallway to the double doors of the suite. He slid the keycard, the lock clicked green, and he pushed the door open, letting you step inside ahead of him.

The door closed with a firm, quiet click behind you, locking out the rest of the world.

You kicked off your high heels with a sigh of relief, tossing your clutch onto the entryway table. 'Seriously, Jaafar, you have to talk to me. You've been acting so strange since the after party.' You reached behind your back, your fingers fumbling blindly with the hidden zipper of your tight dress, but the fabric was caught, and you couldn't get a proper angle. 'Ugh, can you help me with this? I can't reach it.'

Jaafar didn't immediately come over to help. Instead, he stood in the center of the dim bedroom, his eyes locked on yours as he began to unbutton his suit jacket. He slid it off his broad shoulders and draped it neatly over a chair, his gaze never breaking from yours.

You stood there, breathing a little faster, watching him undress. He began to unbutton his dark blue shirt, slowly revealing the smooth, toned expanse of his chest and abdomen.

'Jaafar, seriously,' you ranted, your voice turning into a slight, frustrated whine as you kept tugging at the stuck zipper, your rings catching on the fabric. 'You're completely ignoring me. Did I do something to upset you? Because if this is about Ryan, he’s just a friend, and you were being so cold to him—'

Jaafar took a slow step forward.

'He is not your friend,' Jaafar said, his voice dropping into a register so deep, so quiet, it resonated straight through your bones. He took another step, his bare chest catching the soft light filtering through the window. 'A friend does not look at what belongs to another man and try to calculate how to taste it.'

You froze, your hands dropping from your back as he took another step, narrowing the distance between you until you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

'You think I'm blind, baby?' Jaafar asked, his tone entirely calm, entirely devoid of chaotic rage, which made his absolute dominance so much heavier. He stopped right in front of you, towering over your now barefoot form. He raised one hand, his long fingers sliding slowly up the side of your neck, his thumb resting gently against your pulse point. He didn't squeeze, but the firm, warm pressure of his palm capping your throat made your breath completely catch. 'You think I like standing across a room, strapped to a camera, watching some low life eye-fucking what is mine? Watching you laugh at him, completely oblivious to how badly he wants to slide his hands down that dress?'

Your heart hammered violently against his palm. 'Jaafar... I didn't know...'

'I know you didn't,' he murmured, his dark eyes burning into yours, entirely consuming your vision. 'You're innocent. You're clueless. But he isn't. And I am sick of letting people think you are available.' His thumb stroked over your jawline, a soft touch laced with an iron command. 'You understand now?'

'Yes,' you whispered breathlessly, your knees turning to water under his stare.

'Turn around,' he ordered.

You obeyed instantly, your back turning to his bare chest. You felt the warmth of his body hovering just inches behind you. His large hands came up to your shoulders, his fingers tracing the edges of your dress before his knuckles brushed your bare spine. He found the zipper. With a slow, agonizingly deliberate movement, he pulled it down, the sound of the teeth parting loud in the quiet room.

The fabric loosened, slipping down your shoulders, leaving you standing in just your lace underwear.

'And now,' Jaafar breathed against the shell of your ear, his chest pressing lightly against your bare back, sending a violent shiver down your spine. 'I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to.'

He didn't rush. He didn't throw you onto the bed. Instead, he guided you over to the edge of the mattress, his hands sliding down your arms to grip your wrists. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you between his thighs, looking up at you. His eyes were dark, almost black, swallowed by a primitive hunger.

'You're so desperate already, aren't you?' he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, pulling it down slightly.

'Please, Jaafar,' you whimpered, your hands resting on his shoulders. 'I want you.'

'Yeah well, you have to wait,' he said softly, a dark, teasing smirk playing on his lips.

He slid his hands down to your chest, his long fingers tracing the lace of your bra before hooking his fingers into the material and pulling it down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples hardened instantly. Jaafar leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive peak of your left breast, blowing a warm breath over it that made you arch your back with a soft cry.

But he didn't take it into his mouth. He just hovered there, his lips grazing your skin, torturing you with the proximity.

His hand slid down your stomach, moving beneath the waistband of your lace panties. You were completely soaked, a thick, slick heat coating his fingers the moment they made contact with your center. Jaafar let out a low, dark rumble of satisfaction in his throat.

'Look at that,' he rasped, his long fingers slowly parting your wet folds, his thumb finding your hypersensitive clit. He began to stroke you, but it wasn't the fast, relieving friction you were burning for. He moved with an excruciatingly slow, agonizing pace, barely putting any pressure on the bud, just dragging his thumb over it in lazy, teasing circles.

'Jaafar, please...harder,' you begged, your hips instinctively twitching against his hand, trying to force more friction.

'No,' he commanded softly, his hand flexing to hold your hips completely still, preventing you from moving against him. 'No moving. You take exactly what I give you.'

He slid one long finger inside your tight, wet depth. You let out a loud moan, your head dropping against his shoulder as his finger stretched you. He pushed it all the way in, letting you feel the length of it, before slowly pulling it out until only the tip remained, then sliding it back in.

'Ah, god, Jaafar...'

'You like that, baby? You want more than my fingers?' he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper.

'Yes, please, I want you, please, Jaafar, I'm begging you.'

'Mm-mm...not yet.'

He pulled his finger out completely. You let out a whimper of pure devastation, your body physically aching for the fullness. Before you could protest, Jaafar stood up, stripping off his remaining clothes with smooth, unhurried movements. Your eyes widened as his thick, heavy erection was revealed, twitching with his heartbeat, fully aroused and glistening at the tip.

He climbed onto the mattress, pulling you up with him. He laid you flat on your back in the center of the bed, spreading your legs wide. You expected him to finally drive himself inside you, but Jaafar was far from finished breaking your composure.

He knelt between your thighs, his large hands anchoring your wrists above your head. He leaned down, his chest hovering over yours, and began to use his fingers and his thumb to torment your lower lips again, while his length rubbed lazily against your wet entrance, painting himself in your moisture but never breaking the barrier.

The teasing was pure agony. Your body was entirely overstimulated, the scent of his skin, the dark warmth of his eyes staring down into yours, the heavy weight of his body keeping you pinned, and the absolute denial of the one thing that would bring you relief. Tears of frustration gathered in the corners of your eyes.

'Jaafar, please, I'm gonna lose my mind, 'you sobbed, your hips bucking upward in a desperate attempt to impale yourself on him.

Jaafar easily pinned your hips down with his forearms, his expression unbothered, completely in control. 'I told you to stay still. You don't get to come, and you don't get to be filled until I say so. Every single inch of this body is mine to control tonight.'

He kept up the torturous, slow strokes, pushing you right to the absolute precipice of a shattering orgasm. You felt the familiar tension tightening in your lower stomach, your inner walls beginning to twitch and clamp around nothing, signaling that you were about to break.

The moment he felt your body tremble on the edge of release, Jaafar abruptly yanked his hands away from you entirely, stepping back onto his knees.

The sudden, violent loss of contact sent a shockwave of frustration through your nervous system. You let out a loud, ruined wail, your head thrashing against the pillows. 'No! No! why? Please, let me come, I need to come!'

'I already told you, you don't come until I tell you to,' he growled, his soft spoken demeanor completely gone, replaced by a raw, primal dominance that made your core throb. 'You hold it in. You stay right on the edge for me.'

He grabbed your ankles, dragging your body down the mattress until your ass was right at the edge of the bed. He stood on the floor, pulling your legs up and draping them over his broad shoulders, opening you up completely, leaving you utterly vulnerable under the dim lights of the penthouse.

He stared down at your swollen, soaking entrance, his jaw clenching as his own restraint began to thin. 'Who do you belong to?'

'You. I belong to you, Jaafar, just you.'

A dark, satisfied growl tore from his throat. ’Mhm, that’s right.'

He gripped your hips with an iron, bruising force, aligned his thick length with your aching core, and with one heavy, unyielding thrust, he buried himself inside you to the absolute hilt.

A high-pitched, breathless scream tore from your lungs as the sudden, immense fullness stretched your tight walls to their absolute limit. He bottomed out against your cervix on the very first push, the raw sensation so intense your vision blurred.

Jaafar didn't give you a second to adjust. He began to pound into you, his thrusts hard, deep, and completely unmerciful. He was riding out every ounce of the jealousy that had simmered in his veins all evening, his hips slamming against your flesh with a loud, rhythmic, wet slapping sound that echoed off the high ceilings of the suite.

’Nghh, Jaafar! so deep, oh my god!' you cried out, your body being pushed up the mattress with every powerful stroke, only for his hands to yank your hips back down onto his length.

'It's exactly how deep it needs to be,' he panted, his breath hot and ragged against you as he continued to hammer into you from the edge of the bed. 'I want you to feel every single inch of me. I want you to remember this tomorrow when people look at you.'

The angle was hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy, the friction inside you creating a white hot heat that threatened to consume you. You were entirely overloaded, the heavy, musk-and-wood scent of his sweat, the sound of his deep, guttural groans, the relentless stretching inside you, and the sheer speed of his movements. You were weeping from the intensity, your body completely at his mercy.

Right in the middle of his frantic, heavy pounding, a sudden, sharp ringing broke through the heavy atmosphere of the room.

It was your phone, sitting on the nightstand just a few feet away. The screen illuminated the dim room, flashing a name that made Jaafar’s entire body freeze.

Ryan.

Jaafar looked at the screen, his chest heaving as he stared at the name. A dark, terrifying smirk slowly spread across his face, his eyes turning entirely black. He didn't pull out of you, he stayed buried deep inside your burning heat, holding himself perfectly still as your walls twitched desperately around him.

He reached over, his long arm easily grabbing the phone from the nightstand. He brought it over, holding the flashing screen in front of your tear-stained face.

'Huh...look at that,' Jaafar whispered, his voice a low, lethal purr against your ear. 'Your friend is calling. He probably wants to make sure you got home safe.'

'Jaafar, no... don't...' you whimpered, shaking your head.

'Answer it,' Jaafar ordered, his tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. 'Pick it up, baby. Pick it up while I'm fucking you.' He slid his thumb across the screen, hitting accept and pressed the speakerphone button before placing the device on the pillow right next to your head.

Before you could even process the command, Jaafar slammed his hips forward, driving into you with a brutal, sudden force that made your eyes widen.

'H-hello?' you choked out, your voice trembling violently as you tried to grip the sheets to keep from screaming.

'Hey, Y/N!' Ryan’s voice came through the speaker, loud and clear, completely oblivious. 'Hey, sorry to call so late, I wanted to make sure everything was cool and see if you wanted to grab that lunch tomorrow like we talked about—'

Jaafar let out a low groan, deliberately shifting his angle, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a heavy, wet thud that bottomed out completely.

'Ah!' you gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth, your hips bucking off the bed. The wet, squelching sounds of his length sliding in and out of your soaked core were incredibly loud in the quiet room.

'Y/N? You there?' Ryan asked, sounding confused over the line.

Jaafar didn't stop. He accelerated, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, his muscles flexing as he deliberately pounded into you with a relentless, rhythmic aggression. He was staring directly into your eyes, watching you struggle, a dominant, possessive heat burning in his gaze.

'Yeah...Sorry, I'm—I'm here,' you whimpered, your voice shaking as a wave of overstimulation threatened to break you. You bit your lower lip so hard it nearly bled, trying to suppress the moans that were clawing their way up your throat. 'Just...unpacking...'

Jaafar leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he kept up the brutal pace, his hips slapping against yours. 'Tell him how good it feels, baby,' he whispered wickedly, his voice barely a breath, but his actions spoke loud enough. He hit your spot three times in rapid succession.

'Oh god—' you slipped, a loud, wet moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. The sound of your slick walls tightly gripping his length was unmistakable through the microphone.

'Uh, Y/N? Are you okay?,' Ryan said, his tone shifting, a hint of realization dawning on him.

'I have to go, Ryan,' you sobbed out, unable to hold back the tears as Jaafar ruthlessly drove you toward the edge. 'Goodnight—'

You slammed your finger onto the red button on the screen, cutting the call off.

The phone call cut off, the red end-call button disappearing into the black screen of the device, leaving only the sound of your frantic, heavy breathing echoing against the high ceilings.

But Jaafar wasn't done with you. The adrenaline of the call, the lingering irritation from Ryan’s boundary-crossing presence, and the sheer heat of your tight, soaking walls had his blood boiling. He pulled out of you with a heavy, wet slide that made you gasp in protest, your body instantly feeling cold and empty without him.

Before you could even roll over, his hands were on you again. He grabbed your waist, flipping you effortlessly onto your hands and knees in the center of the large bed.

Jaafar climbed over you from behind, his heavy, solid weight anchoring you down against the mattress. He didn't wait. He lined himself up with your slick entrance and drove his thick length back inside you with one ruthless, unyielding plunge that bottomed out completely, hitting your cervix with a force that made you let out a high-pitched cry.

He began to move with a frantic, desperate speed, his hips slamming against your ass with a loud, rhythmic slapping sound that filled the quiet bedroom. He leaned down over your back, his broad chest pressing yours flat into the pillows. He reached one large hand forward, his long fingers tangling firmly into the roots of your hair, pulling your head back. At the same time, his other hand slid around to wrap securely around the front of your neck, his palm warm and unyielding against your skin, forcing you to look up and over your shoulder at him.

'Look at me,' he growled, his voice thick with a dark, heavy lust as he continued to hammer into you from behind. His eyes were completely black in the shadows, staring directly into yours with a terrifying intensity. 'Look at me while I'm breaking you open. You think anyone else can touch you like this? You think anyone else gets to hear you make these sounds?'

'N-no, Jaafar... nghh! No one... just you,' you sobbed out, your body shaking violently from the forced angle, your hips bucking back against his thighs in a desperate attempt to find relief from the overwhelming fullness.

'Damn right,' he rasped, his thumb pressing firmly against your jawline to keep your head tilted toward him, his thrusts growing even deeper, stretching you to your absolute limit. 'Every single piece of you belongs to me. I want you to remember the weight of my hands on your skin the next time a man tries to step into your space, you hear me?'

He let go of your hair and your neck, the sudden freedom making your head drop into the pillows as he delivered three more devastatingly deep, heavy strokes. But before the pressure could peak, he pulled out of you again, the abrupt loss of friction making you let out a loud, ruined wail of frustration.

'Jaafar, please! Don't stop, please don't stop...' you begged, your hands clawing at the mattress sheets.

A sharp smack echoed through the room as Jaafar’s large hand came down hard on your ass, the sting blooming hot across your skin. You cried out, clenching around him.

'Get up,' he panted, his breath ragged and hot against your bare shoulder.

He didn't give you a choice. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you off the bed entirely. Your bare feet hit the plush carpet, your knees buckling slightly from the sheer overstimulation, but Jaafar held you steady. He guided you across the dark penthouse suite toward the massive, dark wood desk where a large, ornate silver mirror hung on the wall, reflecting the dim city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He pushed you forward gently until your stomach was pressed flat against the cool, polished wood of the desk. He bent you over, your hands gripping the edges of the desk for support, your ass pushed back and elevated.

Jaafar stepped up behind you, his bare chest pressing flush against your spine. In the reflection of the big mirror, you could see everything. the flush of your skin, the sweat glistening on his broad shoulders, and the thick, heavy length of his erection pressing against your wet thighs.

He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto your reflection in the glass. He reached down, parting your thighs with his knee, and with one heavy, smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you from behind, the angle tilting your pelvis perfectly to hit your g-spot with absolute, brutal precision.

You let out a loud, breathless scream, your head tossing back as the visual and the physical sensation combined into a massive wave of overload.

'Look,' Jaafar commanded, his voice a low, dirty purr against your ear as he began to pound into you, his hips driving hard against you, shaking the heavy desk beneath your hands. 'Open your eyes and look at the mirror, baby.'

You forced your eyes open, looking through a blur of tears at the reflection. You watched the way his well-defined torso flexed with every deep stroke, the way his large hands came up to grip your hips, his thumbs digging into the dimples of your lower back to anchor you as he ruthlessly used your body.

'Look who makes you feel this good,' Jaafar growled, his jaw clenching as he accelerated the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, louder, the wet, squelching sounds of your bodies joining filling the air. 'Look who makes you cum every single night. Who is it, hm? Who? Tell me, baby, who?'

'You... it's you, Jaafar,' you cried out, your voice breaking as the friction inside you reached a white-hot temperature. Your knuckles turned white where you gripped the desk, your reflection showing your mouth parted in a continuous, breathless moan. 'Only you, baby, please... oh god, it's you.'

'Say it louder,' he muttered, his head burying into the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at your shoulder blade while his lower body maintained the brutal, relentless rhythm. 'Tell me who owns you.'

'You do... ah! Jaafar, please, I'm gonna break, I can't hold it anymore!'

The visual of him completely dominating you in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on your ruined expression, was the final straw. Your inner muscles began to contract violently around him in a tight, clamping grip, signaling the onset of a massive climax.

But Jaafar wanted you back on the bed for the finish. He pulled out of you with a wet, heavy slide, ignoring your loud whimper of protest, and dragged your shaking body back to the mattress. He laid you flat on your back, pulling your legs up over his broad shoulders, opening you up completely to his deep, unmerciful thrusts once again. Every time his hips slammed against yours, it sent a shockwave straight to your core, driving you further into that state of helpless overstimulation.

He leaned over you, his knuckles white where they gripped the headboard for leverage, his dark curls damp with sweat. He looked down at you, his eyes entirely black, dilated with a heavy, primal lust.

'Look at how stretched open you are for me,' he rasped, his voice a low, dirty growl that vibrated against your skin. 'You like being filled up like this, don't you? Look at me, baby. Tell me how it feels to have my dick taking up every single inch of you.'

'Jaafar, please... it's so good,' you whined, your head tossing from side to side on the pillows.

Jaafar looked down at your parted, wet lips, his dark eyes burning. 'Oh, how much I love you, baby…drives me insane,' he rasped, voice thick with raw emotion and lust.

He didn’t lean down right away. Instead, he kept the torturous rhythm, pulling almost entirely out until only the swollen head of his cock teased your entrance, then plunging back in with a heavy, deliberate thrust that made your back arch off the bed.

The slow withdrawal and sudden deep stretch were driving you crazy. You looked up at his face, lips parted, sharp jaw clenched, curls damp with sweat. The overwhelming need to feel closer to him broke through.

'I wanna kiss you, baby. Please, kiss me,' you begged, voice trembling.

Jaafar looked down at your parted, wet lips, a dark, incredibly wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He didn't lean down. Instead, he accelerated his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, his hips slapping against your thighs with a ruthless rhythm.

'No,' he whispered, his voice a gravelly, torturous tease. 'You don't get to kiss me yet.'

'Jaafar, please—'

'I love how needy you sound when I starve you,' he muttered, his thumb reaching down to ruthlessly grind against your clit while he kept pounding into you, deliberately pushing you past your limit. 'Beg for it. Tell me how bad you need my mouth on yours while I'm stretching you out.'

'Please, baby, please kiss me, I need you, I need to taste you,' you sobbed, completely broken down by the overstimulation, your inner walls clamping around his thick length in desperate, erratic waves.

Hearing your voice crack, feeling the frantic, tight squeezing of your core, finally shattered the last of his restraint.

Jaafar let out a low, guttural growl, his broad chest collapsing down against yours, his heavy weight pinning you flat into the mattress. He grabbed your jaw with his large hand, his fingers digging firmly into your cheeks to force your mouth wide open, and he slammed his lips down against yours.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was deep, possessive, and incredibly nasty.

His tongue surged into your mouth, claiming you with the same fierce, unyielding aggression as his hips. He tasted like the rich bourbon from earlier and pure, raw heat, his tongue tangling with yours in a wet, frantic rhythm that matched the brutal pace of his lower body. He was pounding into you with a wild, unbridled ferocity now, his long fingers shifting from your jaw to tangle in your hair, holding your head completely still so you had to take every single bit of the kiss.

The sensory overload was absolute. You couldn't breathe, your mouth flooded with his taste, your ears filled with the sound of his heavy, ragged breathing and the wet, loud squelching of your bodies joining.

The friction inside you reached a fever pitch, your G-spot being hit with every single desperate, deep thrust. Your body tightened, your vision going entirely white as a massive, shattering orgasm tore through your nervous system, your throat letting out a muffled, choked scream straight into his mouth.

The violent, pulsing contractions of your release completely broke Jaafar. He let out a dark, muffled roar against your lips, his tongue taking one last, deep stroke of your mouth as he drove himself into you to the absolute hilt. He locked his hips flush against yours, his body trembling violently as he came, filling your tight, twitching core with thick, burning jets of his release.

He didn't break the kiss until both of your breathings completely ran out, finally pulling his lips back with a wet, heavy sigh, leaving you entirely spent, ruined, and completely his.

The silence returned to the penthouse, broken only by the sound of your combined, ragged breaths.

Slowly, gently, Jaafar pulled his legs down, climbing fully onto the bed and collapsing beside you. The dominant, terrifying aura completely evaporated, leaving behind the gentle, soft-spoken man you knew—but the possessiveness remained. He reached out, his large, warm hand sliding around your waist, his fingers curling into your hip in the exact same spot he had gripped at the party.

He pulled your trembling, spent body tight against his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his voice returning to that quiet, sweet rumble.

'Mine,' he whispered into your hair, his grip tightening just a fraction. 'Don't ever make me remind you again.'

You didn't even get the chance to throw another slick comment back before he spun you around, his hands firm on your hips, pressing you down into the mattress like he couldn't wait another second. The tension in the air finally snapped—months of teasing, late-night texts, and lingering stares all exploding right here in the dark.

Jermajesty’s grip was tight, one hand spreading across your lower back while the other tangled in your hair, pulling back just enough to make your breath hitch. The first thrust stole the sound right out of your throat. It was rough, intentional, like he needed u to feel every single ounce of how long he’d been holding back.

His pace was unforgiving. Deep. Rhythmic. Each movement slammed into you with purpose, every motion a word, every gasp a response as the headboard rattled against the wall to the exact beat of your racing heart. You clutched the sheets, knuckles turning white, burying your face in the pillow as moans spilled out uncontrollably. Your body arched without thinking, chasing the overwhelming wave of heat and pleasure he poured into every second.

He leaned down, his breath burning hot against your ear.

"Still got somethin' smart to say?"

You shook your head, voice trembling. "No... Jermajesty..."

"Nah, say my name again," he growled, his hips rolling harder, deeper. "Let me hear you."

"J-Jermajesty," you whimpered, nearly sobbing from the way he kept hitting that exact spot, over and over again without mercy.

He kissed a trail straight down your spine, slowing his pace for just a split second before picking it back up—rougher, deeper. He wasn't holding back an inch, and you didn't want him to. You wanted to feel it in your bones.

He flipped you around, pressing his forehead against yours, going even harder as he pinned your wrists to the mattress.

"Nah, don't run now," he murmured, his voice dark and demanding. "You said you could handle it."

Your legs were shaking so hard they felt useless, and your voice was entirely gone, reduced to breathless gasps of his name like it was the only word left in the world.

By the time he finally let you both fall, your chest was rising and falling like you’d just run a marathon. Your fingers were still tangled tight in the bedding, entire body humming with leftover waves of pleasure that refused to fade. You could barely think, let alone move an inch.

Jermajesty hovered over you for a moment, his own breath heavy, watching you with a low, wildly satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Then, he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss right to the side of your jaw—soft and gentle, like the absolute storm he had just unleashed hadn't even happened.

His lips stayed there against your skin as he whispered, voice husky and smug, "Good girl."

He pulled you right up into his arms after, holding you tight against his bare chest like you weren’t just completely undone five seconds prior. Your heart was still hammering, but it slowed into a steady, comforting thud. It felt safe right there.

"You alright?" he murmured softly into your hair, his thumb tracing slow circles along your waist.

"Mhm," you managed to mumble, face half-buried in his skin, still trying to catch my breath.

A low, deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his hand slid slowly down to trace your thigh.

"Damn," he said, pure amusement and pride dripping from his tone. "Your legs still shakin'? I really did a number on you, huh?"

You smacked his chest weakly, though the way my fingers trembled completely ruined the intimidation factor. "Shut up," you grumbled, even though you couldn't stop the tiny smile creeping onto your face.

He only laughed again—cocky, warm, and entirely pleased with himself—as he tugged you even closer. "Nah, don't be shy now. That was all you, ma. You was beggin' for it."

"You're so annoying."

"And you love it," he whispered, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Randy Jr.

He was just your sneaky link, nothing crazy. You met at an off-campus party and got along well which led to a night at his apartment. You mutually agreed to keep it casual, too busy and stressed for a relationship.

You didn’t feel like dealing with someone else when you struggled to deal with yourself.

You unlocked your phone, pressing on the notification and reading,

“What you up to?”

You debated on responding, while the bright laptop screen practically yelled at you to lock back in.

Clearly your laptop didn’t scream loud enough as you picked up your phone to respond.

“Just studying, whats up?”

The grey bubbles appeared in no time.

“Can I slide?”

That damned question. If he comes over you know exactly what you’ll be up to, but you need to study. Well…you do understand most of it.

Maybe a little relief won’t be so bad…

“Come on, look at me, mama.” Randy grunted above you. Looking at him was something that felt physically impossible in that moment. Your eyes felt permanently stuck to the back of your head.

He filled you to the brim. So full that you had to remember to breathe. The way he was stuffed inside of you made your brain void of everything else. Not a single care about an exam, not a single care about the R.A down the hall, only his dick.

His fingers lightly tapped your cheek, hips still pistoning in you. The tapping brought you back for a small moment, eyes shifting forward to look at him.

“Thank you, mama. Can you keep looking at daddy?” He cooed. His palms found place on the back of your thighs, holding them down to keep you spread open for him. Your knees were damn near touching your ears, and he only pushed deeper. Absolutely folded.

You nodded—not without struggling—and attempted to keep your eyes on him. He looked heavenly from this angle, thick eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his biceps that naturally flexed.

He was so fine.

“Nngh—Randyyy.” You moaned, back arching against the sheets. “I know baby, you doin’ so fuckin’ good.” He swung your legs over his shoulders, leaning down into a mating press.

You could’ve lost your mind in that moment. The way his tip nudged against your g-spot had you planning a wedding in your head.

Maybe a green wedding dress? Who should be the flower girls? Big or small wedding?

You would be sick to your stomach right now, if you found out some other girl was experiencing this.

“Fuckkkk, waittt.” You cried out, hand pressing against sculpted abdomen. “Shhh, you can take it. You been stressing right?” His voice could’ve soothed you to sleep if it wasn’t for him digging you out.

“Y-yes.” You whimpered, finally getting the small reminder of your exams but that didn’t sit in your head for too long, diminishing with every stroke from Randy.

“Exactly so let me take care of you.” He delivered a soft kiss to your cheek. The tenderness made your eyes roll back, and you fought the urge to say I love you.

Good dick just does that to you.

“Randy, I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. “Yea?” He sat up, angling his hips till his tip kissed your g-spot making your legs shake. “FUCK!” You cried, palms pressing against his abdomen.

“Move.”

One simple demand that you did not bother listening to. He gathered your wrists into one hand, holding them in the air as he rolled his hips against yours.

So how should you propose to him?

“Cum for me, mama.” He said. The knot in your stomach broke, releasing and creaming all over him. He thrust you through your orgasm, refusing to take his eyes off the bliss on your face.

You clenched repeatedly around him, chest heaving from the waves of pleasure. "Mhm, keep takin' that dick." He muttered, pace not faltering. Your legs shook from overstimulation, your back arching towards him.

"You creamin' all on me, fuck!" He groaned, listening to the wet squelch of him pumping into you. You felt brain-dead at this point, body jolting with every pump, hyper-aware of the thumb stroking your thigh.

"You look so pretty, mama." Oh, he knows what he's doing. You couldn't help but clench around him practically keeping him stationary inside of you. Maybe it's a good thing you can't speak because you would have absolutely told him to nut in you. Baby trapping doesn't sound too bad right now.

Maybe he was thinking of you the same way. Probably not, but the way he's looking at you, you couldn't help but wonder.

You felt his large body weigh on you, burying his nose into the crook of your shoulder. Another ball of heat began to unravel in your stomach as you smelled his sultry, cedar wood cologne. You were quite literally covered by him, and it only made your maddening obsession worse.

You were so hyperfixated on the feeling of him thrusting and stretching you out, you didn't realize your orgasm overtook you once again. Shaking underneath him while he peppered wet, gentle kisses on the side of your neck.

At this point the only thing you were thinking is, where is the nearest ring store?

“Y-you need help right there?” His voice was shaky, doe eyes finally making eye contact with you. Your half-lidded eyes stared him down as if you were prepared to pounce any second. And you were.

The wide-eyed curiosity fueled your need to guide him. Make him yours. It was easy knowing you had him in the palm of your hand, twisting the truth into what you wanted and feeding it to him.

“Please, Mikey, you did so good before. Don't you wanna help again?” You pouted. Your hips shifted, letting his fingers brush against your clit. The feel of your soft folds made him take a sharp inhale.

God, what was wrong with him? His best friend was asking for help—genuine help—and he’s sitting with a hard-on like a pervert. You do so much for him, he could at least focus on the task at hand.

You watched the quiet struggle in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened, and his attention flicking between his hand and your face. You almost felt bad.

Almost.

"How do I help you?" He wondered.

"Take my shorts off." You instructed. His eyebrows clenched for the smallest moment. A familiar feeling stirred in his chest, the feeling he got a few months ago, when you noticed his boner and helped him by sucking him into your mouth.

The familiar feeling of relief swirled with the undertone of guilt. But you’re his bestfriend, you only want what’s best.

He took his hand out just to grasp the waistband of your shorts. His heart sounded like a drum in his ears. He breathed deeply through his nostrils reminding himself he's doing a favor.

Just being helpful. Just being helpful. Just being helpful.

He tugged your shorts down your bare legs, and his mouth gaped seeing your bare center. The discovery that you weren't wearing underwear made him feel dizzy. He laid your shorts on the floor, struggling to take his eyes off of your naked lower half.

"Now repeat what you did...but lower." You smiled, tilting your head. “You still want to help me, right?" He nodded slowly, eyes still locked on you.

"Let me hear you say it."

"I want to help you." He licked his lips, a glossy shine being left over them.

“You’re such a good best friend.”

The way his eyes lit up, you would’ve thought he won a million dollars. He felt ecstatic at the praise, only wanting to find more ways to make you proud.

His gaze fell to your slit, already soaked from his previous ministrations and your first orgasm. "I-I don’t know how to do it." He said. He worried of disappointing you, revoking the praise he just had.

Instead of responding, you simply guided his head down until he was face to face with your pussy. His mouth watered admiring your middle that held a pink opening, a contrast from the soft brown folds outwards.

His body felt hot, swallowing his nerves. He didn’t want to mess this up, he needed to be good at this. Good at this just for you.

“Don’t be shy.” You teased, noticing his hard stare.

He slowly nodded, leaning to give a hesitant lick straight up your slit. His tongue was warm against you, a light pressure being applied to test the waters. You bit your bottom lip, legs parting to give him more room. “Like that?” He asked, seeking your approval.

“Just like that Mikey,” your hand reached down to point at your clit, “make sure to lick here too.”

He nodded, calculating the appearance and location of where you pointed. He dragged his tongue flat against you, flicking at your clit once he felt the firm nub.

His tongue circled around the bundle of nerves and your breath caught in your chest. He flicked it with the firm tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it. The moans coming from you sent a heat into his stomach, encouraging him to keep going.

He closed his eyes getting used to the taste of you. Plain. A tinge of sweet. Your natural smell only made him lean in farther, breathing deeply.

He sucked your clit whilst stroking it with his tongue providing a double sensation. Your moans only increased in volume and he felt his boxers tighten. It constricted around his dick, compressing the bulge that grew.

Michael couldn't help but grind against the floor, a shudder of pleasure coursing over him. Desperate, mindless, and involuntary. The friction against him pushed out a moan, right into you. He couldn’t fight the arousal. Too caught up in your taste, he naturally did what felt right.

"Just like that." You whimpered. Your hands found his soft curls as you tossed your head back. Just as you expected, he was a natural. It should’ve been no surprise feeling the hum of an orgasm creeping up on you.

Your hips grinded against his mouth, panting heavily. He flattened his tongue, creating broad stripes of saliva that coated your pussy. You felt the knot in your stomach began to unravel, legs threatening to shut close.

Michael—too pussy drunk to care—pressed his palms to the back of your knees, pushing them back to keep you spread open. Every lick and suck only sent him spiraling.

"M-michael." The original dominating demeanor you once held seemed to melt into a puddle leaving a whiny, twitching mess. “W-wait.” You whimpered realizing you were about to cum faster than expected. Instead of a slow ease, it felt like you were about to drop from a rollercoaster.

All of your pleas went into one ear and out the other as Michael focused on suctioning your clit along with your folds gathering your taste into his mouth. The loud lapping noises bounced off the walls and Michael didn’t even care about the mess that spread across his face.

You attempted to push his head away but it was as if he never felt it. He shook his head, coating his mouth and chin in your juice, tongue still dragging throughout your folds, not forgetting to flick your clit.

Your orgasm crashed down, an uncontrollable broken cry leaving your mouth. “Fuck!” Your thighs quivered against his hands. Tears pricked your eyes as he ate you through your orgasm. He felt you twitching below him as rode out the waves of your high.

You finally felt the repetitive motion of his body and you forced yourself to look down using all of your power after the weakening orgasm. His hips rutted desperately against the floor chasing after his own release.

His moans sounded louder, mouth never wavering against you. The closer he got, the more his tongue sped up, sending you straight into overdrive. “C-can’t.” You whimpered, placing your palms against the carpet to scoot away from him.

Barely getting an inch back, he tugged you back towards his hungry mouth, eyes flying open to look at you. The dark brown eyes seemed darker as he stared up at you. Glossy and glazed over, half-lidded from lust. Your eyebrows furrowed from the overwhelming pleasure, not being able to take your eyes off of him.

Suddenly, his eyes rolled back, showing the whites of them and his body shuddered below you as he bucked his hips into the ground. He was too dazed to care about anything, feeling the warmth of his seed spread around his pants. He sucked on your clit while the waves of bliss ran through him.

Both of your whimpers and moans combined in the air, heating the room with nothing but passion and desire. His hips finally slowed to a stop and he took a deep inhale, pheromones filling his nose.

He lazily detached his mouth, sitting up, mouth covered in his spit and your wetness. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting heavily, trying to come back to reality.

Your eyes trailed down to his figure and landed on the dark patch in the middle of his jeans, evidence from his own self-help. As you closed your legs, the slick mess between your thighs made you wince.

"Was that okay?" He asked, reverting back to his normal ways. He didn’t feel as cloudy and dazed, falling back into the role as the helper. "It was perfect, Mikey." You sighed, laying back down, body still twitching a bit.

He remained quiet for a few moments, observing your spent figure, searching for any sign that he did something wrong. He hoped he didn’t overstep any boundaries. “Did I hurt you?” His voice sounded meek, as if he was scared to hear your answer.

“No, of course not. You helped me a lot.” You said. He crawled over to you, itching to feel you again—any part of you. “Come here.” You told him, opening your arms for him to embrace you.

He wasted no time to rest his head on your chest, wrapping around you and inhaling your scent. “You’re the best,” He mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your shirt.

“The greatest best friend ever.”

It was all because of a stupid joke Toph made at dinner; one that everyone took lightly but you.

“So since Aang’s still alive..” she started with a dirty snicker at the man’s absence, quite tipsy, playfully nudging Katara’s side. “That means the Airbenders could be brought back. Think you and him could repopulate the Air nation, Sugar Queen? Have little Airbender babies filling up the temples?”

“What the hell— No!” Katara shoves her off, flustered and embarrassed, groaning in defeat at the others’ laughs.

Zuko offers her a timid smile, his words a little slurred from the drinking. “But it’s true, no? That would be a very heroic act, Katara.”

“Drop it, you guysss..” she sighs, downing one more shot, Toph’s noisy cackling mingling with Sokka’s until they’re interrupted by their synchronized hiccuping, which only causes them to laugh even louder.

Your grip tightens around your glass. You were glad nobody was looking at you; you wouldn’t know how to justify the glare you were throwing their way.

Images of Aang and Katara naked and tangled under the sheets suddenly plagued your mind, and you couldn’t tell if they were the cause of your headache or if that was the work of your sixth drink.

You huff, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the thoughts off. This was ridiculous.

You push yourself up from the floor, and that piques Katara’s attention. She looks up at you, a little worried. “Leaving already? Is everything okay, sweetie?”

A twinge of guilt tugs at your heartstrings at the genuine worry in her voice. You give her a small nod, and your best attempt at a smile, “Just had too much to drink, don’t worry. I’ll go upstairs, to check on Aang.”

“Gooood,” Toph drawls through a fit of giggles, raising her hand to give you a thumbs up while Sokka refills her mug. “Tell him that Katara’s gonna bring back the Air nation while you’re at it. Gonna give him loooots of babies. Pregnant Katara, pregnant with little Airbenders. Buuunch of ‘em.”

Your lips purse tightly, and as much as you wanted to, you refrain from throwing your glass at her face. “.. Alright. Goodbye.”

You walk off, Katara’s exasperated denials and Toph’s increasingly dirty jokes fading into a dull noise as you storm up the stairs.

You don’t even know why this was upsetting you so badly. Sure, you had a little crush on Aang but.. it’s not like he was yours. He probably would never be.

You weren’t even a bender; so why in the world would he ever pick you over Katara?

Sweet, pretty, skilled Katara. Unbearably perfect Katara.

Everyone in the group pictured them together for good reason; she was the perfect match for him. And you did love them both a lot as your dear friends.. so why were you this worked up?

Tears prick at your eyes when you stand in front of Aang’s door. You quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand, bewildered at the fact that you were actually crying over this.

You sigh. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, this was all the alcohol.

After a few more minutes of mulling over your words and composing yourself, you knock on the door softly. Three knocks.

“Come in!” His voice, breezy like always but a little weighed down by the exhaustion of night work, shoots right through your chest like an arrow. You suck in a sharp breath, then slowly slide the door open.

“Ohh, thank Spirits you’re here.” He practically whines as he tips his head back against his chair, limp as a ragdoll. “Dumb Avatar work won’t end, I swear I thought I was about to die from boredom. You’re my savior.”

You force a small smile and walk over to his desk, setting down your glass with a bit of sake left, that he wastes no time in stealing and chugging down in a second.

He exhales with a wide grin, very pleased, melting back against his chair. “Really, really my savior.”

You stare at him silently. Your gaze lingers on the pretty arch of his eyebrows, the light blush already tinting his cheeks because he had the liquor tolerance of a two year old, the adorable twinkle in those tired, happy doe eyes..

You look further down, noting the squeeze of his too-big back against the borrowed chair, and the way his legs twisted uncomfortably to fit under the somehow small-for-him desk.

Downsides of a bigger build, huh. Your mouth dries up a little.

It physically hurt that you couldn’t have him.

His puzzled, sad frown snaps you out of your haze. “You’re not even listening to me.. am I boring you?”

“Oh, no, no, not at all. I’m sorry.” You wave your hands wildly, embarrassed and grateful that he seemingly didn’t pick up on your inappropriate leering. “I just.. just..”

The more you look into his eyes, the heavier your heart feels.

Your friends’ words keep ringing in the back of your head, the filthy images of him and Katara together in different positions refusing to leave your tipsy mind.

Spirits, you felt like you could cry again. Damn you, inhibition-lowering alcohol. And damn you, Toph.

Once again, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by him. His large hand wraps around yours, his features scrunched in worry at the sight of your teary eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Now was not the time for his stupid nicknames. This was so unfair to your poor heart.

“I am. It’s just.. this dumb thing that happened earlier.” You look down at your hand in his, your eyes welling up much to your embarrassment and dismay.

His fingers gently curl around yours, urging you to look at him. “What dumb thing? Please tell me.”

‘No.’ You wanted to say. ‘It concerns you, so how could I tell you?’ You tell yourself.

Staying silent or lying was the smart idea.

..

Maybe you would’ve been smarter sober.

With the alcohol in your system, and those beautiful eyes boring into yours so intimately in the dark of the night, the moonlight reflecting in his pupils.. you don’t feel the words spill out of your lips until you hear them yourself.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke Toph made,” with each syllable that left your mouth, your brain desperately tried to hit the brakes and shut you up, regret already pooling in your gut as you helplessly watched yourself commit the stupidest mistake of your life. “About.. you and Katara. Talked about you two.. uhm.. repopulating the Air nation, or whatever. Like.. Airbenders aren’t totally extinct since you.. you’re still here. You could, y’know, make more—”

“I-I get the gist,” he interjects, blushing while his grip tightens around your hand. He sighs lowly and shakes the thought off. “Of course it’s Toph. But.. I’m still lost.”

He tilts his head, blinking up at you so sweetly you almost melt. “I think I get the joke. Dirty, sure. But I’m not sure why it’s sad?”

“Sad?” You answer back, just as puzzled. “It’s not sad, though?”

He nods, both of you like lost puppies. “I know. So why is it making you cry?”

Fuck.

Your addled brain racks itself to come up with a reason fast enough, but oh, who were you kidding?

“It’s just..” you look down at the empty glass, wishing it was full so you could down it and hopefully choke on it. “..I don’t know.”

Could you have picked a worse answer? Hard to tell.

A long silence settles between you two, and you can feel his heavy, curious gaze on you without even needing to look at him. You regret doing so, because with the way his eyes suspiciously narrow, his oblivious mind exhausting the possible explanations for your state, you can see him work closer up to the conclusion.

“Welp,” you force an awkward chuckle, patting his hand before sliding yours off his grasp and taking a few steps back, hoping to make it out of here before he figures it out. “I’m sorry to bother you, Aang. It’s nothing really, I think it’s just the drinks getting to me. You know how they always make me soo emotional. Anyway, I just wanted to check up on you, so I’ll get going now.”

You turn around and pick up your pace, but before your fingers find the knob, a gust of wind pushes the door just right out of your reach.

“Wait.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, cold sweat suddenly rolling off your temples. “Are you..?”

He trails off again, and your limbs grow shakier. This was such a dumb idea, why did you even have to go up to his office? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

You take a deep breath and take one more step to the door, but this time it’s slammed shut with a sharper gust.

“Were you..” You can hear the scraping of his chair as he stands up, your heart sinking down to your ass. “.. Jealous?”

And, unfortunately, there it was.

Even then, knowing Aang, you could’ve still flipped it around. Laughed and played it off. Told him he was wrong. He would’ve believed you.

But, unable to even look up from the door knob, the dumbest answer rolls out of your heavy tongue, a tipsy lightheadedness washing over you for a second. “.. Yes.”

At this point, you didn’t even care anymore. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than this. Maybe now he could laugh at how weird you were being and send you off, finally putting off the burning flames in your chest.

You wait for the longest time, neither of you moving, and right when you expect him to burst out giggling, a firm command escapes his lips instead. “Turn around.”

You blink, dazed.

You slowly turn around, and your breath hitches at the sight before you. Aang standing with his palms flat against the desk, his chest silently heaving, wisps of steam slipping out of his parted lips, more redness across his cheeks, broad and bulky and scary with his no longer sparkling eyes.

There was only what you could describe as heat in them. Not from anger, no, but something awfully akin to lust that had a foreign heat pooling deep in your lower tummy.

Was the alcohol making you see things? Was this just wishful thinking?

“Come here,” he orders again, but it’s shaky this time. Your feet comply before you can process it, and you feel your guts twisting with dread and hopeful anticipation.

Spirits, did you make him uncomfortable? You’d never seen him like this before.

When you finally stand before him, only the desk separating you, your fingers curl around your skirt in guilt. “Aang, I’m so sorry. You already have enough on your plate, I shouldn’t have said anything— Mmf!!”

You’re cut off with a rough kiss, sudden and heated from the get-go, big hands cupping your cheeks as his lips smush against yours in a sloppy mess. You want to make sense of it, but it’s hard to care when your brain’s this fuzzy and you’re living out one of your nightly fantasies.

Neither of you want to stop, breathlessly lapping at each other’s warm tongues and moaning at the unfamiliar feel, swapping sweet sake-flavored saliva.

He reluctantly breaks it with a wet pop, gazing down at you so desperately it had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Don’t move.” Aang whispers, trailing around the table to stand behind you, the order nailing your feet down to the floor. A soft gasp slips from your kiss-bitten lips when his hands tentatively rest on your hips, his breath hot against your ear as his buff body presses against your back. “Is this what you wanted?”

With his touch slowly travelling down to your thighs, all words die out on the tip of your tongue and you can only nod, swallowing thickly.

“You were jealous.” He states again, his voice low and gravelly, like the fact wasn’t embarrassing enough being said the one time. “You’d rather Toph made that joke about you, correct?”

You would’ve answered that, if something huge didn’t poke you in the ass the next second.

Heavens, what the hell was— Oh.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Aang murmurs into your ear, giving your thighs reassuring rubs as he grows unbearably hard against your backside. “I don’t want to.. repopulate the Air nation with Katara, if that’s any consolation. I don’t.”

The words do soothe you a little, but the dirty images are burnt into the back of your eyelids, looping in your mind like a cruel parade, making you shudder against him. “Thank you. I just.. I keep imagining it, and it kills me. Just imagining you on top of her and fucking her— Ah!”

You squeal, startled, when you’re swiftly spun around with not so breezy hands, facing his towering figure with a lick of your bottom lip.

His hands hook around the hem, sliding his shirt off to reveal his muscular frame in all its glory, your gaze sliding down the arrow tattoos, but you’re not given much time before the same hands slide down to the back of your thighs to lift you up on the desk.

He sweeps off the paperwork, crowded between your legs, and you can’t help but moan at how much your thighs have to spread just to wrap around his waist.

So big. In every sense of the word.

“This— Is this what you imagine?” The question’s breathless, lowering himself to look at you and you throb at the eye contact. So does he, judging from the twitching you feel against your inner thigh.

You let out a quivery sigh, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he leans even closer, his steamy breath mingling with yours. “..Kind of..”

He nods at that, glances around hesitantly, then decides to push you flat down on the desk. It’s firm but not rough, your head landing softly on the hardwood thanks to an air cushion he swirled up. “How about this?”

You’re about to reply with a “maybe” when wild fingers swiftly fumble with his belt, lowering his pants enough for him to spring up— WOAH!

Your face is set ablaze, quickly looking away, eyes blown wide open in a mix of shock, dread, and helpless arousal.

His hands find your hips once more, tugging your skirt up to reveal your plush thighs and a patch of your lacies that has him choking on a gasp.

He grabs your jaw, turning your head back to face him, desire and uncertainty swimming in his pretty brown eyes. “Are you.. sure about this? There’s no going back.”

“Please,” it slips out of you with a needy gasp, your legs wrapping around his waist while your hands roam over his wide shoulders. “Yes.”

With the blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear his whispered word, but from the way his face scrunches up, you assume it was a curse.

Your skirt is fully ridden up with a gust of wind, one that (unintentionally or not) flicks up against your clothed folds and has you shivering in his grasp.

Thick fingers tug the delicate fabric to the side, and he moans in awe at the sight of your drooling slit, already so ready for him.

“So wet,” he comments as he admires the slick coating your glistening cunt, not ripping his eyes off it like it was a piece of art. The prolonged staring makes you self-conscious and embarrassed, but when your thighs shift just a little bit to hide yourself, firm hands keep them separated and he looks up at you, mildly offended. “No, don’t hide from me. You asked for this.”

“Well, I didn’t think your staring was on the menu,” you sputter out, flushed.

“I’m sorry, she’s just so beautiful.” He sighs softly, and your breath is knocked out of your lungs when he starts tracing your folds. “I can’t believe you’re already this wet. You wanted me this badly?”

His questions are genuine, but they only increase your shame. Aang senses that, and so decides to finally give you a taste of what you want.

“Fuck—!” Your back archs off the desk with a yelp, two of his abnormally big digits prodding at your sopping wet hole. It takes some time, but when they finally slip inside you, your pussy greedily sucks them in, earning a pleased grunt from him. “Good girl. Gripping me so nicely.”

It feels illegal to even hear such words from him outside the fake scenarios you touched yourself to at night. More desperate mewls are coaxed out of you when he starts scissoring you open, the pads of his fingertips pressing skillfully against your spongy spot and curling upwards.

“Need to get you ready for me,” he breathes out, stretching you out with a third finger that has you ferally clawing at his back. “So you can take me.”

Steam is wafting off him as he pounds his fingers in and out of your tight walls, unable to look away from your fluttering cunt. His calloused thumb comes to swipe over your perked up clit, a wail ripping through your throat. The sound has him lifting his eyes to check on you, and the sight of tears filling the rim of your eyes, your lips contorted into a quivering pout, your hair pooling so prettily around your head, sends a hot jolt of arousal down to his cock.

“Spirits, you—you’re so pretty.” He babbles dazedly, dragging another scream out of you with a thrust of his fingers. “Pretty, pretty girl. I need you now.”

With a few more rubs to your puffy clit, he suddenly pulls away, your arms tightening around him with a pitiful cry.

“No no, don’t cry, please.” Aang wipes the tears off your eyes, stealing a warm kiss from your puckered lips. “I’ll take care of you now baby, I promise.”

His entire body burned hot with his firebending, but especially his hands; scalding as they slid up the back of your thighs to push your legs up against your chest in a mating press.

But even his hot touch paled in comparison to the heat between your thighs.

He exhales through his nose, one of his hands ditching you to wrap around his girthy cock, lazily fisting himself as the tip flushed an angrier red, veins forking up the length.

You gasp when he lines himself up, the leaking tip gliding over your slit like he owned it, and your eyes roll back at its pure thickness.

You didn’t even know if you could take him.

He lowers himself over you, his bare chest pressed flush against yours as he litters your neck with warm open-mouthed kisses. “Ready for me?”

He takes your pathetic whimper as a “yes”, swallowing it with his tongue while he slowly pushes in.

His pre-cum mixes with your slick in filthy squelches, and you both moan loudly when he finally pushes through the tight ring of muscle, plunging into your velvety walls.

You’d think it’d be easier with him prepping you with three of his fingers, but the big stretch was still scream-worthy.

“I—I can’t,” he whines against your lips after some minutes pass by, frowning down at you so sweetly. “I really want to be gentle and good to you, b-but it’s so hard. With how you feel around me, I just wanna— wanna— ugh, lose control. You— feel so good..”

His words have your organs collapsing against each other, your cunt fluttering around him with arousal at the thought of rough sex with the sweet, tender Avatar before you.

How could you resist such a nasty demand made with the most adorable look?

“Lose it.” You whisper into his mouth, feeling his entire back tense up under your hands. You pull him in for a brief kiss, “I want you to lose it.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, your eyes widening at the flickering of his tattoos. “D—Don’t say that.”

His slow thrusts grow faster and rougher, each inch splitting you further and completely numbing your tipsy mind, broken moans ripping through your hoarse throat when he bottoms out.

You try to adjust to his size, the lingering pain only increasing your pleasure as he rolls his hips into the flesh of your ass, his grip deadly tight around your folded thighs. “Spirits—”

The desk clatters under you, mewling in tandem while he tries to fight the Avatar state, flashes of blinding white forcing you to shut your eyes but they were just as quickly forced back open at the animal pounding that accompanied them.

Holy mother of God, you could feel him in your womb.

“Is—” He grunts, suddenly ripping your top off with his teeth to bare your chest to his hungry gaze. You’re taken off guard, choking on your startled yelp when he hikes your hips up to deepen his angle and fuck you harder, his eyes drinking in the bounce of your gorgeous tits. “Is this what you imagined?”

You could hardly tell if it was Aang anymore, tears streaming down your face and hiccuping sobs while his wild thrusts bruised your cervix.

You feel him twitch inside you, his pace stuttering for a second, and that’s when you know he’s close.

He leans down to capture one of your peaked nipples between his teeth, nipping and licking at the sensitive bud as he reveled in your whiny cries. His svelte fingers take care of the neglected one, twisting and rolling it while his tongue flicked harshly against your left.

When his lips close on it in a sucking motion, your mind goes blank and your eyes cross, drool leaking out of your mouth when you open it to beg for release.

With your pleading and the way your cunt lovingly squeezes around his throbbing dick, he completely loses it and brutally picks up the pace.

“Gonna.. gonna cum,” he slurs, latching off your chest to gaze down at your wrecked face. “Pump you full of me. That’s what you want, right?”

He takes your loud moan to his words as approval, drunk on your noises as he fucks you with the stamina that could only belong to the Avatar.

“Fuck, need— need to breed you.” He turns into an incoherent mess, each thrust fucking your earlier scenarios right out of your head, Katara’s image gradually being replaced by yours. Your nails draw blood, scratching down his muscular back while he gets off to the thought of knocking you up, his fingers sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit. “My—my sweet girl, gonna give me lots of little Airbenders. You want that, don’t you? Stuffed full of my cum, bearing my children. You’ll make me a daddy.”

If his cock destroying your cervix wasn’t enough to make you cum, his words definitely did it.

Your orgasm crashes over you, your toes curling in the air, gushing all over him with a broken cry and so does he, the feel of your walls clamping down on him so tightly tipping him over the edge as hot ropes of thick cum paint your insides white.

It’s so warm — and so much — you almost cum again from the sheer sensation.

“Gonna get you pregnant,” he breathlessly pants, angling your hips up for none of his cum to slip out of you. Your pussy spasms around him, thoroughly milking him dry and you don’t know if it’s just the tipsiness, but you could swear you felt all his warm seed seep through your cervix and fill up your womb.

You’re both drenched in sweat, fighting for air. He gives you a few more thrusts for good measure, draining himself out entirely, eliciting an overstimulated mewl from you, before reluctantly pulling out of what he would later consider his home.

Dazed, he watches your swollen folds clench around nothing, and when he sees some of his cum dribble out of them, he tuts and fingers it back inside you. He does this for the next minutes, making sure you’ve taken all of him, appreciating your needy squirms and whimpers each time.

When he’s satisfied with himself, he exhales deeply, all his earlier savageness gone for an affectionate look in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He gives you a fond smile, pressing his large palm flat against where your womb is. “You’ll grow me some Airbenders in here, won’t you? Birth me back my nation?”

Too fucked out to answer, you nod weakly, limp in his grasp. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, slow and warm and wet. “I can’t wait. In some months, everyone will know what happened here. They’ll know who you belong to, who you craved tonight. You’ll be all big and swollen with my babies.”

The thought has you furiously blushing, your arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders. “W-Well.. it’s still too early to know if I’ll be preg—”

“Oh you will be.” He answers with a cheeky grin, patting your belly again. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

You blink at him, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips too. “But that’s not how it works. There’s no guarantee that I’m pregnant, even if you know what you’re doing.”

At that, he groans, tucking his face into the crook of your neck while his heavy body rests over yours. “But I’m the Avatar. My stuff’s gotta be special. I’m sure it worked, you’re definitely knocked up.”

You return his tired hug, letting out a soft exasperated sigh. “.. Sure, Aang.”

Meanwhile, everyone downstairs remained blissfully ignorant of what the hell happened a floor above them, all busy with their drinks and tipsy banter.

All, except for a very drunk earthbender that heard everything through the walls. Who was thankfully way too drunk to properly tell the others, only shouting garbled congratulations to the ceiling that nobody bothered to understand. “Niiiice. Good going, Twinkle toes. You lucky dog.”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

* i’d be popping out babies left and right with this yummy bald man.. if you see any mistakes leave me alone i hate proofreading.

his eyes scanned your frame, taking in the leopard print nightgown that stopped right above your thighs, displaying your legs perfectly.

“how am i talking to you? you’re just here complaining,” you snapped back. “doing the most.”

jermajesty’s jaw tightened. without another word, he closed the space between you, took the wine glass out of your hand, and set it down hard on the counter right next to your phone.

“why do you keep playing with me?” he asked, his voice dropping into that quiet tone he only used when he was completely out of patience. “this a game to you?”

his hand slid up your neck to guide your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. you tried to pull back, but his thumb pressed firmly into your jawline, holding you dead still.

he stepped closer, crowding you right up against the kitchen island until your back pressed against it. your eyes instantly dropped down, away from his. 

“no, it’s not a game, jermajesty,” you mumbled, trying to keep the attitude in your voice. he was usually the sweet one, the one who brushed off your mood swings, kissed your forehead, whispered promises and would probably let you get away with murder.

“look at me. i asked you a question,” he said, “i’ve been trying all week—all fucking week to make you happy. you don’t wanna talk? fine, but don't start that childish shit with me.” he was frustrated, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you. he loved you too much for that.

your shoulders dropped and your voice softened, “baby i'm not—”

“nah. don’t ‘baby’ me now,” he cut in, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to pull your face right up to his. “you had all day to call me ‘baby.’” his eyes darkening as they tracked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. 

your eyes snapped back to his, his free hand slid down to your ass, his fingers digging into the plush of your skin and pulling you flush against him. he felt the quick hitch in your chest, heard the soft exhale that slipped past your lips, and his eyes narrowed.

“oh,” he breathed, a low hum echoing from his chest as he realized what was happening. “so that’s what this is? you acting up just cause you want dick?”

“jermajesty, no—”

“yeah, okay,” he whispered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned down, brushing his mouth softly against yours before pulling back just enough to look at you. “c’mere.”

he slid his arm around your waist, lifting you off your feet bridal style as he guided you into the bedroom. pushing the door halfway shut behind him with his foot. the room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack.

he walked you right up to the edge of the bed, “strip.” his voice leaving no room for argument. you looked up at him, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the warm beat beneath his shirt.

jermajesty stayed right between your knees, his hands resting firmly on the top of your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you. 

your breath hitched, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down to grab the silk hem of your gown. slowly, you pulled it up over your stomach and chest, pulling it over your head and letting it drop onto the floor beside the bed. 

jermajesty’s eyes tracked every inch of movement, his gaze drank you in. a quiet exhale slipped past his lips, his hands sliding higher up your bare thighs, pulling forward until his body was against yours.

“that's my baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press another tender kiss under your jaw, his lips lingering against your skin as his hands moved around to gather you up and ease you back flat onto the mattress. “now show me you're ready to listen.”

“you know i love you, right?” leaning in to press a kiss to the side of your neck, making you shiver. his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into your skin.

he slid his hand up your body, his rings cold against your skin. “open.” he drags his middle and ring finger against your bottom lip. you opened your mouth without a second thought, taking his fingers past your lips. jermajesty watched you intently, his heavy gaze locked on yours as he slowly rolled his fingers over your tongue—a satisfied hum vibrated in his chest.

“good baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and quiet against the stillness of the room.

he slid his fingers out, leaving your lips slick, before dragging that same hand down the column of your throat, over your collarbone, and straight down the center of your stomach.

“you had me fucked up all week, you know that?” leaning down so his chest pressed lightly against yours, pinning you softly into the mattress. “driving me crazy mama..making me overthink.”

“i’m sorry,” your voice barely above a whisper as your hands slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, feeling the smooth fade of his hair. “i was just being stubborn.”

“i know,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “that's why I'm gonna take my time with you tonight.”

his free hand moved to your thigh, hooking under your knee and gently guiding your leg wider, opening you up completely to him. he shifted his weight, pressing his hips firmly against yours until you could feel every inch of how bad he wanted you.

“you going to show me how sorry you are?” he asked, his thumb lightly caressing your inner thigh, his eyes searching yours for permission. the way your breath caught and your hips lifted toward his was all the response he needed.

jermajesty moved his hand higher up your inner thigh, purposely avoiding where you needed him most. he took his time, using his thumb to trace slow circles along the crease of your hip, making you shift restlessly beneath him.

he leaned down until his lips hovered above yours. when your eyes met his, he finally closed the distance, capturing your mouth. his tongue slow and thorough as he drank you in. an involuntary whimper escaped your throat into his mouth, your hands tangling tight into his hair to keep him close.

he broke the kiss just enough to trail his lips down your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your throat, hitting that soft spot right beneath your ear that always made you shiver. his hand sliding slowly up your ribs, his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast.

he lowered his head further, taking one soft nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling gently around it while his fingers finally slid down, sinking into the wet heat between your thighs.

you let out a quiet breath as his touch sent a pulse of heat straight through you. his fingers moved in slow rhythms, setting a pace that had your back arching against the mattress.

he kept his gaze locked onto yours, watching every micro expression on your face as he fingered you. every time a soft gasp slipped from your lips, a subtle smile touched the corners of his mouth.

his thumb working in small circles over your clit. your hands slid down his back. he could feel the slight tremble running through your thighs, the way your body was tighten up around his touch.

his fingers slid deeper as you pulsed around his touch. he paused just for a second, letting you feel his palm resting against your core, before resuming those slow strokes that had your head rolling back into the pillow.

his thumb applied just a fraction more pressure against your clit, your breath hitched sharply in your chest, a broken gasp escaping your lips as your inner muscles clamped tight around his fingers. a rush of heat crashed over you, starting deep in your belly. your back arched up off the bed, your thighs shaking violently.

jermajesty didn't pull away, he held you through it. his fingers continuing a gentle motion to ride out your release until your body slowly eased back down into the mattress, soft and completely breathless beneath him.

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally against your flushed cheek. his thumb stroked gently along your cheekbone, “there she is,” he whispered affectionately as he looked down at your ruined expression. “you still mad?”

you shook your head weakly, “good,” his hands moving down to remove his sweats. without giving you a second to catch your breath, jermajesty slid his hands beneath your hips and flipped you seamlessly onto your stomach.

your knees instinctively buckled into the soft mattress, your chest pressing flat against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. his chest pressing firm against your spine for a second as his large hands gripped the sides of your waist.

he pulled your hips back and up, positioning you right where he wanted you. “think you forgot who your man was for a minute.” he purred right into your ear, his breath searing against your skin as his hand slid down to deliver a firm slap to your ass. the sound echoed sharply through the quiet bedroom.  a loud gasp flew from your throat at the sting, your hips instinctively twitching.

he aligned himself and drove into you. “wait! oh, fuck—jermajesty!” you squealed, your fingers clawing at the bedsheets as your head buried into the pillow.

the fullness of him made your eyes water, setting off a chain reaction of loud, unfiltered moans that filled the entire room.

“yeah?” he scoffed softly, his voice dripping with a condescending satisfaction. dragging out almost completely before sinking all the way back in. “this what you wanted all week? acting like a spoiled brat just so i’d fuck you like this?”

each powerful thrust pushed you forward into the bed, your body completely at the mercy of his hands holding your hips locked into place. he wasn't being mean, but he was giving it to you so good, hitting that exact deep spot over and over again until you couldn't form a single coherent thought.

“i'm—i'm sorry! ughhh, jermajesty, please!” you sobbed out, your voice high, breathless, and trembling. “i'm s-so sorry, daddy, i'm sorryyy…” that word hit him like a lightning bolt. jermajesty’s hands tightened their grip on your hips, his thumbs digging deep into your skin as his pace suddenly snapped into something ruthless, his hips slamming hard against yours.

“what you sorry for?” he gritted out,

“i-i’m sorry f-for—fuckkk, baby, i'm sorry!” you cried out. your loud, desperate whines filling the room with every hard snap of his hips. you couldn't hold back if you tried, he was hitting you so deep that your whole frame was shaking violently under him.

“is it good mama? hm? tell me honey,” jermajesty hummed, leaning over your back to press his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing your ear as he drove you deeper and deeper into the mattress. “my pretty baby...taking her dick so good.”

“you know this shit yours right?” you began to lose your arch, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “nuh-uh no running.” jermajesty’s hands hooked tight around your waist, yanking your hips right back up into position before you could slip flat against the bed. slamming back into you, the bed groaning with every thrust. 

“d-daddy, please—i can't, it's too much!” you sobbed fingernails digging deep into the fitted sheets.

“yes you can,” jermajesty replied cockly. he pulled out almost all the way, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, before driving all the way back in until his hips flushed hard against yours, slowing down his pace. “look at you...crying and making all this noise. you gonna behave for me now?”

“yesyes! i–i promise! ” you cried out, your head rolling back against his shoulder as another wave of pleasure ripped through you. “gonna make me cum on this fucking dickkkk…” 

jermajesty hissed at the feeling of you clenching down on him, “feel so fucking good,” his hips rolling flush against yours and driving into you until every inch of his length pressed against your cervix.

“you’re so creamy angel.” he reached one hand down beneath your stomach, his long fingers finding your swollen clit and applying a pressure that matched the rhythm of his hips.

the combination of his slow grinds and his fingers working your center pushed you over the edge. your body clamped down on him like a vise, your entire frame shook as a massive orgasm crashed through you, milking him for everything he had.

jermajesty let out a whine at the suction. he buried himself as deep as he could go, locking your hips tight against his, forehead resting against your shoulder as he filled you with his seed.

he pulled back, slowly slipping out of your tight, twitching heat with a quiet, wet sound that echoed in the heavy air.

before you could completely collapse into the mattress, jermajesty’s large hands slid under your waist and turned you over onto your back. you flopped back against the pillows, breathless, flushed, and completely unraveled.

he didn't give you time to collect yourself. jermajesty shifted up between your legs, he took his tip and began dragging it slowly up and down your swollen sensitive clit.

“shit—maj,” you gasped, your hips automatically jumping at the feeling, your hands flying up to grip his biceps.

“mhmm,”  he hummed softly, a cocky smirk touching his lips as he watched your eyes roll back. “so obsessed with this pretty pussy…” he rubbed himself over you again, teasing you right on the edge. “gonna give you whatever you ask for.” 

you whined, your toes curling as the overstimulation sent electric shocks straight down your thighs. “please, baby...put it back in…”

he hooked both of your legs up over his shoulders, lifting your lower back off the bed with a pillow so you were folded wide open beneath him. holding your knees firmly in place, jermajesty leaned down, his eyes locking onto yours as he lined himself up and sank all the way back in.

“oh, god—” you gasped, your back arching off the mattress as the size of him filled you up all over again. with your legs pinned over his shoulders, every single stroke hit impossibly deep, stretching you completely around him.

“you like that, mama?” jermajesty hummed.

“yes—ugh! baby, yes!” you cried out, your hands reaching up blindly to clutch at the headboard. he smirked down at you, enjoying every second of watching his sweet, loud baby. “look at you...shit—taking your dick like a good girl.”

“jermajesty...oh! you feel so gooddd,” you sobbed out, your hips involuntarily rising to meet his thrusts, completely addicted to the feeling of him.

“i know pretty girl,” he cooed, his tone softening as he leaned down, resting his forearms on either side of your head while his hips kept up that deep rhythm. 

his lips brushed against yours, tasting the breathless sighs slipping from your mouth. “daddy got you, ma. take it for me.”

your hands moved up from the sheets to clutch your chest, your nails digging into the skin as another wave of heat began to coil tight in your stomach.

“jermajesty... wait, fuckkk, i'm gonna—” you gasped, your voice cracking as your head rolled back into the pillow, your thighs shaking violently where they rested against his shoulders.

“shittttt mama,” he growled softly right against your ear, his pace snapping into faster and harder thrusts that hit your gspot with precision. “cum on your dick.”

you screamed out his name. your body locking up tight around him, clamping onto his length. feeling your inner walls squeezing him so tight, “just like that, yeahhh.”

he let out a loud moan against your neck, his hands gripping your legs, pouring inside you again while you both rode out your orgasms together. 

he held you tight against him as the aftershocks finally began to fade. slowly, he unhooked your legs from his shoulders and eased them down, letting your feet rest flat on the mattress.

“you good?” he asked softly, his forearms resting on either side of your head, just breathing you in.

“perfect…” you sighed, your eyes barely open, completely exhausted and fucked out. a genuine smile touched his lips as he leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, then to your nose, before slowly slipping out of you.

you let out a tiny whine at the sudden emptiness, but he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head right under his chin.

he reached over to grab the blanket, pulling it all the way up over both of your shoulders to trap the warmth around you.

“i love you, baby,” jermajesty whispered, his hand gently stroking your braids, “stop being a brat, alright?”

you giggled, “i love you too, daddy,” you mumbled into his chest, as you finally let your eyes close.

© 2026 𝑱𝑲𝑺-𝑳𝑼𝑽𝑹

his eyes scanned your frame, taking in the leopard print nightgown that stopped right above your thighs, displaying your legs perfectly.

“how am i talking to you? you’re just here complaining,” you snapped back. “doing the most.”

jermajesty’s jaw tightened. without another word, he closed the space between you, took the wine glass out of your hand, and set it down hard on the counter right next to your phone.

“why do you keep playing with me?” he asked, his voice dropping into that quiet tone he only used when he was completely out of patience. “this a game to you?”

his hand slid up your neck to guide your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. you tried to pull back, but his thumb pressed firmly into your jawline, holding you dead still.

he stepped closer, crowding you right up against the kitchen island until your back pressed against it. your eyes instantly dropped down, away from his. 

“no, it’s not a game, jermajesty,” you mumbled, trying to keep the attitude in your voice. he was usually the sweet one, the one who brushed off your mood swings, kissed your forehead, whispered promises and would probably let you get away with murder.

“look at me. i asked you a question,” he said, “i’ve been trying all week—all fucking week to make you happy. you don’t wanna talk? fine, but don't start that childish shit with me.” he was frustrated, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you. he loved you too much for that.

your shoulders dropped and your voice softened, “baby i'm not—”

“nah. don’t ‘baby’ me now,” he cut in, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to pull your face right up to his. “you had all day to call me ‘baby.’” his eyes darkening as they tracked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. 

your eyes snapped back to his, his free hand slid down to your ass, his fingers digging into the plush of your skin and pulling you flush against him. he felt the quick hitch in your chest, heard the soft exhale that slipped past your lips, and his eyes narrowed.

“oh,” he breathed, a low hum echoing from his chest as he realized what was happening. “so that’s what this is? you acting up just cause you want dick?”

“jermajesty, no—”

“yeah, okay,” he whispered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned down, brushing his mouth softly against yours before pulling back just enough to look at you. “c’mere.”

he slid his arm around your waist, lifting you off your feet bridal style as he guided you into the bedroom. pushing the door halfway shut behind him with his foot. the room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack.

he walked you right up to the edge of the bed, “strip.” his voice leaving no room for argument. you looked up at him, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the warm beat beneath his shirt.

jermajesty stayed right between your knees, his hands resting firmly on the top of your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you. 

your breath hitched, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down to grab the silk hem of your gown. slowly, you pulled it up over your stomach and chest, pulling it over your head and letting it drop onto the floor beside the bed. 

jermajesty’s eyes tracked every inch of movement, his gaze drank you in. a quiet exhale slipped past his lips, his hands sliding higher up your bare thighs, pulling forward until his body was against yours.

“that's my baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press another tender kiss under your jaw, his lips lingering against your skin as his hands moved around to gather you up and ease you back flat onto the mattress. “now show me you're ready to listen.”

“you know i love you, right?” leaning in to press a kiss to the side of your neck, making you shiver. his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into your skin.

he slid his hand up your body, his rings cold against your skin. “open.” he drags his middle and ring finger against your bottom lip. you opened your mouth without a second thought, taking his fingers past your lips. jermajesty watched you intently, his heavy gaze locked on yours as he slowly rolled his fingers over your tongue—a satisfied hum vibrated in his chest.

“good baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and quiet against the stillness of the room.

he slid his fingers out, leaving your lips slick, before dragging that same hand down the column of your throat, over your collarbone, and straight down the center of your stomach.

“you had me fucked up all week, you know that?” leaning down so his chest pressed lightly against yours, pinning you softly into the mattress. “driving me crazy mama..making me overthink.”

“i’m sorry,” your voice barely above a whisper as your hands slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, feeling the smooth fade of his hair. “i was just being stubborn.”

“i know,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “that's why I'm gonna take my time with you tonight.”

his free hand moved to your thigh, hooking under your knee and gently guiding your leg wider, opening you up completely to him. he shifted his weight, pressing his hips firmly against yours until you could feel every inch of how bad he wanted you.

“you going to show me how sorry you are?” he asked, his thumb lightly caressing your inner thigh, his eyes searching yours for permission. the way your breath caught and your hips lifted toward his was all the response he needed.

jermajesty moved his hand higher up your inner thigh, purposely avoiding where you needed him most. he took his time, using his thumb to trace slow circles along the crease of your hip, making you shift restlessly beneath him.

he leaned down until his lips hovered above yours. when your eyes met his, he finally closed the distance, capturing your mouth. his tongue slow and thorough as he drank you in. an involuntary whimper escaped your throat into his mouth, your hands tangling tight into his hair to keep him close.

he broke the kiss just enough to trail his lips down your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your throat, hitting that soft spot right beneath your ear that always made you shiver. his hand sliding slowly up your ribs, his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast.

he lowered his head further, taking one soft nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling gently around it while his fingers finally slid down, sinking into the wet heat between your thighs.

you let out a quiet breath as his touch sent a pulse of heat straight through you. his fingers moved in slow rhythms, setting a pace that had your back arching against the mattress.

he kept his gaze locked onto yours, watching every micro expression on your face as he fingered you. every time a soft gasp slipped from your lips, a subtle smile touched the corners of his mouth.

his thumb working in small circles over your clit. your hands slid down his back. he could feel the slight tremble running through your thighs, the way your body was tighten up around his touch.

his fingers slid deeper as you pulsed around his touch. he paused just for a second, letting you feel his palm resting against your core, before resuming those slow strokes that had your head rolling back into the pillow.

his thumb applied just a fraction more pressure against your clit, your breath hitched sharply in your chest, a broken gasp escaping your lips as your inner muscles clamped tight around his fingers. a rush of heat crashed over you, starting deep in your belly. your back arched up off the bed, your thighs shaking violently.

jermajesty didn't pull away, he held you through it. his fingers continuing a gentle motion to ride out your release until your body slowly eased back down into the mattress, soft and completely breathless beneath him.

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally against your flushed cheek. his thumb stroked gently along your cheekbone, “there she is,” he whispered affectionately as he looked down at your ruined expression. “you still mad?”

you shook your head weakly, “good,” his hands moving down to remove his sweats. without giving you a second to catch your breath, jermajesty slid his hands beneath your hips and flipped you seamlessly onto your stomach.

your knees instinctively buckled into the soft mattress, your chest pressing flat against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. his chest pressing firm against your spine for a second as his large hands gripped the sides of your waist.

he pulled your hips back and up, positioning you right where he wanted you. “think you forgot who your man was for a minute.” he purred right into your ear, his breath searing against your skin as his hand slid down to deliver a firm slap to your ass. the sound echoed sharply through the quiet bedroom.  a loud gasp flew from your throat at the sting, your hips instinctively twitching.

he aligned himself and drove into you. “wait! oh, fuck—jermajesty!” you squealed, your fingers clawing at the bedsheets as your head buried into the pillow.

the fullness of him made your eyes water, setting off a chain reaction of loud, unfiltered moans that filled the entire room.

“yeah?” he scoffed softly, his voice dripping with a condescending satisfaction. dragging out almost completely before sinking all the way back in. “this what you wanted all week? acting like a spoiled brat just so i’d fuck you like this?”

each powerful thrust pushed you forward into the bed, your body completely at the mercy of his hands holding your hips locked into place. he wasn't being mean, but he was giving it to you so good, hitting that exact deep spot over and over again until you couldn't form a single coherent thought.

“i'm—i'm sorry! ughhh, jermajesty, please!” you sobbed out, your voice high, breathless, and trembling. “i'm s-so sorry, daddy, i'm sorryyy…” that word hit him like a lightning bolt. jermajesty’s hands tightened their grip on your hips, his thumbs digging deep into your skin as his pace suddenly snapped into something ruthless, his hips slamming hard against yours.

“what you sorry for?” he gritted out,

“i-i’m sorry f-for—fuckkk, baby, i'm sorry!” you cried out. your loud, desperate whines filling the room with every hard snap of his hips. you couldn't hold back if you tried, he was hitting you so deep that your whole frame was shaking violently under him.

“is it good mama? hm? tell me honey,” jermajesty hummed, leaning over your back to press his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing your ear as he drove you deeper and deeper into the mattress. “my pretty baby...taking her dick so good.”

“you know this shit yours right?” you began to lose your arch, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “nuh-uh no running.” jermajesty’s hands hooked tight around your waist, yanking your hips right back up into position before you could slip flat against the bed. slamming back into you, the bed groaning with every thrust. 

“d-daddy, please—i can't, it's too much!” you sobbed fingernails digging deep into the fitted sheets.

“yes you can,” jermajesty replied cockly. he pulled out almost all the way, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, before driving all the way back in until his hips flushed hard against yours, slowing down his pace. “look at you...crying and making all this noise. you gonna behave for me now?”

“yesyes! i–i promise! ” you cried out, your head rolling back against his shoulder as another wave of pleasure ripped through you. “gonna make me cum on this fucking dickkkk…” 

jermajesty hissed at the feeling of you clenching down on him, “feel so fucking good,” his hips rolling flush against yours and driving into you until every inch of his length pressed against your cervix.

“you’re so creamy angel.” he reached one hand down beneath your stomach, his long fingers finding your swollen clit and applying a pressure that matched the rhythm of his hips.

the combination of his slow grinds and his fingers working your center pushed you over the edge. your body clamped down on him like a vise, your entire frame shook as a massive orgasm crashed through you, milking him for everything he had.

jermajesty let out a whine at the suction. he buried himself as deep as he could go, locking your hips tight against his, forehead resting against your shoulder as he filled you with his seed.

he pulled back, slowly slipping out of your tight, twitching heat with a quiet, wet sound that echoed in the heavy air.

before you could completely collapse into the mattress, jermajesty’s large hands slid under your waist and turned you over onto your back. you flopped back against the pillows, breathless, flushed, and completely unraveled.

he didn't give you time to collect yourself. jermajesty shifted up between your legs, he took his tip and began dragging it slowly up and down your swollen sensitive clit.

“shit—maj,” you gasped, your hips automatically jumping at the feeling, your hands flying up to grip his biceps.

“mhmm,”  he hummed softly, a cocky smirk touching his lips as he watched your eyes roll back. “so obsessed with this pretty pussy…” he rubbed himself over you again, teasing you right on the edge. “gonna give you whatever you ask for.” 

you whined, your toes curling as the overstimulation sent electric shocks straight down your thighs. “please, baby...put it back in…”

he hooked both of your legs up over his shoulders, lifting your lower back off the bed with a pillow so you were folded wide open beneath him. holding your knees firmly in place, jermajesty leaned down, his eyes locking onto yours as he lined himself up and sank all the way back in.

“oh, god—” you gasped, your back arching off the mattress as the size of him filled you up all over again. with your legs pinned over his shoulders, every single stroke hit impossibly deep, stretching you completely around him.

“you like that, mama?” jermajesty hummed.

“yes—ugh! baby, yes!” you cried out, your hands reaching up blindly to clutch at the headboard. he smirked down at you, enjoying every second of watching his sweet, loud baby. “look at you...shit—taking your dick like a good girl.”

“jermajesty...oh! you feel so gooddd,” you sobbed out, your hips involuntarily rising to meet his thrusts, completely addicted to the feeling of him.

“i know pretty girl,” he cooed, his tone softening as he leaned down, resting his forearms on either side of your head while his hips kept up that deep rhythm. 

his lips brushed against yours, tasting the breathless sighs slipping from your mouth. “daddy got you, ma. take it for me.”

your hands moved up from the sheets to clutch your chest, your nails digging into the skin as another wave of heat began to coil tight in your stomach.

“jermajesty... wait, fuckkk, i'm gonna—” you gasped, your voice cracking as your head rolled back into the pillow, your thighs shaking violently where they rested against his shoulders.

“shittttt mama,” he growled softly right against your ear, his pace snapping into faster and harder thrusts that hit your gspot with precision. “cum on your dick.”

you screamed out his name. your body locking up tight around him, clamping onto his length. feeling your inner walls squeezing him so tight, “just like that, yeahhh.”

he let out a loud moan against your neck, his hands gripping your legs, pouring inside you again while you both rode out your orgasms together. 

he held you tight against him as the aftershocks finally began to fade. slowly, he unhooked your legs from his shoulders and eased them down, letting your feet rest flat on the mattress.

“you good?” he asked softly, his forearms resting on either side of your head, just breathing you in.

“perfect…” you sighed, your eyes barely open, completely exhausted and fucked out. a genuine smile touched his lips as he leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, then to your nose, before slowly slipping out of you.

you let out a tiny whine at the sudden emptiness, but he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head right under his chin.

he reached over to grab the blanket, pulling it all the way up over both of your shoulders to trap the warmth around you.

“i love you, baby,” jermajesty whispered, his hand gently stroking your braids, “stop being a brat, alright?”

you giggled, “i love you too, daddy,” you mumbled into his chest, as you finally let your eyes close.

© 2026 𝑱𝑲𝑺-𝑳𝑼𝑽𝑹

You should’ve known better. You knew how strict Randy was, and you know how easily ticked off he gets. The TikTok just seemed so accurate to your anger towards him, how could you not repost?

Unfortunately, the moment led to him having you bent over the kitchen counter while you attempted to read the repost from your phone.

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me.” His hand popped your ass sending a strike of electricity through you. You could barely think with his dick stretching you out. He was on the tip of touching 6,0 so of course he’s large everywhere.

And I do mean everywhere.

His dick sat deep inside of you, giving you a chance to gather yourself. “I’m being real patient right now, hurry the hell up.” He was so mean when you made him mad.

But boy, did that turn you on.

“G-glad I’m single—shit,” you tried to slightly ease up off of his dick, but he just grasped your waist and pulled you back. “Don't be runnin' take that shit." He gave a sharp thrust, hips clapping against your ass.

"Now read it."

You panted, clenching around him while you stood on your tippy toes. "G-glad I'm single and can d-do whatever I w-want." You dropped your phone onto the counter after reading it.

"So, you can do whatever you want?" He still hadn't moved inside you, letting you feel the pulsing length inside of you.

"Nooo, I was just talking, I swear." Your forehead met the cool surface of the table, in an attempt to catch your breath,

Randy just smacked his teeth before pulling out to where only his tip was inside. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped on to the edge of the table.

He fully slid inside of you, "FUCK!" Your hand flew back against his waist. "C-can't take it." Your cries went over his head as he bullied his dick inside of you, brushing against your G-spot and cervix.

"You takin' it right now, ma, what's the problem?" He continued at his hard pace, watching your ass ripple against him. The kitchen floor felt cold against your bare toes, the opposite from your body heat.

Your nipples rubbed against the counter as every stroke he gave sent you jerking forward. "Do you like irritating me?" He tugged at your hair and made you look at him.

"N-no, Ran, I'm sorry." Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you stared into his. His thick eyebrows were knitted together watching as you lost your mind on his dick.

He leaned down to tongue kiss you, making you moan into his mouth. All of these sensations at once, only stirred more arousal in your stomach.

You struggled to kiss him back as he pounded into you, pushing you towards your orgasm. "R-Ran, I'm close." You warned.

"Hold that shit." He pulled out and filled your hole with two of his long fingers. He didn't waste any time pumping them inside of you causing your legs to shake.

"Randy, please!" Your hand smacked against the table, feeling your orgasm on the teetering edge. You did not want to make Randy more upset than he already was.

But once he began to curl his fingers, all hell broke loose. Your legs shook as you let out a cry, squirting around his fingers. He watched as your essence splattered against the floor, and his hand.

He smacked his teeth as he withdrew his hand from your sopping entrance. He laid a gentle smack against your folds making you jolt.

"Since you can't follow directions" Smack "let's see how many times you cum," Smack "while I watch a movie."

Your eyes snap to his direction, but not the man on top of you that’s having you make all those pants and moans. The man never reveals his face, but that isn’t what Michael is fixated on right now. He’s fixated on the way you didn’t even flinch to see him walk in on you two, instead flashing him a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, yes! Right there! God, I’ve never been fucked this good before!”

His surroundings cut to black as soon as you moaned those words, eyes now showing him in bed half tangled under the sheets. He sits up with such urgency it makes you stir a little in your sleep beside him, in search for his warmth.

Sunlight bleeds through the curtains and stings his eyes, bringing a hand up to cover. Faint chirping can be heard, which reassures him it’s a new morning and it was only a dream.

A dream like that would have anyone start to have doubts in their relationship. He should be wondering who that man was, or should start considering if the dream is trying to give him a sign, but none of those thoughts flow to him. The affection you give to him everyday, how you sometimes cry when he gives you a kiss goodbye to head to work that won’t be releasing him till the very late hours of the night, he knows there isn’t any room in your heart for another man that isn’t him.

In other words, he doesn’t ever have to worry about you possibly cheating on him.

What his worries does lead to him, though, is what you said in the dream. “Ive never been fucked this good before”? What a damn lie.

His thoughts are interrupted from the sounds of your stirs, eyes gently fluttering open. Your lips pull into a soft smile once your gaze welcomes the sight of Michael sitting next to you, immediately reaching for him.

“Watching me sleep?” You joked, but he didn’t say anything in return. Before you could question his silence, he leans down to deliver your lips a sensual, deep kiss.

A kiss that tastes of hunger and need so quick into your morning starting left you gasping in surprise in the midst of it, even more-so after he broke it off to let the kisses expand every inch of your face down to your neck.

“Woah, good morning to you too—mmngh..” You couldn’t help your tiny moans interrupting, Michael always knowing which spots on your neck leaves you sensitive and breathless. You barely heard him, but he mumbles a quick ‘I miss you’ into your skin, which has you breathe out a laugh through your nose.

“I haven’t gone anywhere though.” You say, and he gives you a look that silently says ‘so?’.

Then you feel it, and his touches all make sense. His hardening bulge has been pressed right against your pajama shorts, the thin cotton not letting you miss every inch he has to give.

“I need you.” He says it like it isn’t up for debate, he will have you right this second. When have you ever complained?

You hook your thumbs under your shorts, him helping to get them off faster. He follows shortly after, exposed cock twitching from the cold air. He sucks in air through his teeth as he lets his length be covered in your slick, sliding it up and down between your folds.

“So wet already…” He whispers, more to himself than to you. He doesn’t stop his slides, focused on how you gasp and twitch your hips up each time the head catches your clit. You whine in frustration when it goes down to your entrance, as he nudges just a bit to give the idea he’ll slip it in, but then pulls back to continue the rubs against your folds.

“Michael,” You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist to have him push forward, but he doesn’t budge. “Please, don’t tease. Too early for that.”

He hums, not stopping the sly smile tugging from the corner of his mouth. “You’re shaking, baby. You need it that bad?” He knows you do, yet he’s in search for your pleas. He rarely keeps you waiting, hard to deny your inviting heat a little longer for his own amusement to watch you squirm.

You’re not use to this, but if begging gets you what you’re desperately craving for, then you’ll do just that.

You nod frantically, hands roaming up his arms to cradle his face. You make sure he sees your yearning glint in your eyes, in hopes it’ll put an end to his teases. “Yes, yes I need it so bad. I need you.”

That did it.

You feel the familiar stretch of his cock, your walls fighting to accommodate his length. With your given wetness, it didn’t take long for him to bottom out, pubic bone flushing against your clit. He brings his hands underneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest to focus on his cock disappearing each thrust. Your cunt hugging him so perfectly, along with the wet squelches each time he snaps his hips forward again, you can tell how much it’s driving him insane as he picks up his pace.

“Fuck, Michael, it feels so good..!” You cry out, eyes squeezed shut as you fist the sheets, barely grounding you as the snap of his hips keeps having your body bounce.

“Yeah? Does it? I’m making you feel good, baby?” You couldn’t even stutter a response back, the tip kissing your g-spot perfectly with each roll.

He lets go of your legs to flush his chest against yours, cupping the side of your cheek to bring your gaze to his. “You’re mine, right? You’re all mine and no one else’s, right mama?” He asks between groans, each thrust given like he’s trying to prove something to you.

You don’t question much of his words, nodding as your pleasure starts to get sharper and your vision begins to blur. “Yes, of course Michael, I’m all yours— oh, I’m gonna come…!” You manage to warn until a second later your walls is clamping down onto his cock tightly, orgasm buzzing through every bone in your body.

He gives a couple more snaps of his hips, then pulling out to coat your stomach in his own release. It warms the skin it falls on, bringing your trembling legs down.

But Michael stops them halfway, pushing them back up to keep your cunt exposed. As you were about to pick your head up to see what he’s doing, you feel him deliver a slow, wet, dragging stroke of his tongue. Your mouth parts but there’s no sound that escaped, body locking up from his tongue flicking and circling with precision so sharp it’s devastating.

“Michael, wait—“ But he doesn’t, knowing you want him to stop because you’re still too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He needs to taste your arousal, needs to tear you apart piece by piece.

Your hips jerk against his mouth, the vibration of his moan shredding through you. The work of his mouth is relentless, never taking a second to breathe. He doesn’t let up, pulling you deeper into his mouth, and it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to crash through you once again due to your high sensitivity from the last.

He only stops once your shuddering starts to ease, pressing one last slow kiss to your clit, like he’s sealing his claim.

How wrong of you to assume he’d be done after that, grabbing ahold of your waist to get you straddled on top.

You can barely hold yourself up, nails digging into his shoulders as he sinks you carefully down onto his cock again. “Michael, I can’t—“ you shudder into his neck, arms wrapped around you to keep you leaned forward on his chest.

“Please, one more f’me? I got you, mama. I got you.” His breath stutters against your cheek, hips rutting up to set a lazy rhythm. No matter how many times he’s fucked you, it’s always overwhelming like it’s the first time. His cock thick, unrelenting, filling you in a way that steals your breath, in a way that makes your head spin.

He does all the work, keeping you rested against him as the snap up of his hips never falter. Heat floods through you, pools between your legs, making your thighs shake. He feels it all, the curl of your fingers on the back of his neck, having yourself meet his thrusts halfway even after a second ago you said you couldn’t take any more.

“Tell me again how good it feels.” Michael groans, angling his hips to get impossibly deeper in your dizzying warmth. “No one else can make you feel this good, huh? No one else can do it like me, huh baby?”

Your heart stumbles against your ribs, Michael moving in a way like he’s made to consume you, to ruin you completely. You shake your head as the snap of his hips turn sharp, having your mind start to go blank. “No, no one else can do it like you. You fuck me so good— shit..!”

Your body begins to seize up, shattering apart, pleasure violently slamming into you. A hand tangles in your hair, gently pulling you off his neck to watch you break into breathless, gasping cries. “You took it so well, pretty. You always do.”

He’s quick to slide you off, fisting his cock until it spurs all over his stomach. You both share uneven pants, both sharing shakes of your bodies, twitching with the last aftershocks. He snakes his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest to burrow his face in the crook of your neck.

You moan quietly with each light kiss he gives your neck, all the way up to your ear to bring goosebumps with his whisper.