pls more perv otw mike !!! i LOVEDDDD your somno fic it was so so hot omg
thank you lovely!! im so easy for perv otw mike 😮💨 so here are some headcanons as him as your best friend ❤︎
bsf perv otw!michael who always wants to be around you. he’s just so infatuated with the way you have him under a spell. and he loves how you always hug him so tight, giving him a whiff of your sweet perfume that makes his head spin. he invites you over so much that there’s hardly a second you’re not at his house.
bsf perv otw!michael who especially loves when you spend time in his pool, trying his hardest to not start at how your soaking swimsuit clings to the curves on your body. he prays no one notices how he has to shift to adjust his achingly hard cock in his swim trunks. you’d splash him with water and giggle about how cute his curly wet hair looks & he nearly cums right there.
bsf perv otw!michael who loves and respects you so much! you’re his bestest friend ever! so he feels just a bit guilty when he snatches a pair of pink underwear from your sleepover bag while you’re in the shower. he felt even worse listening to the water run in the bathroom, imagining how the water fell over your body and wishing it was him instead. he couldn’t stop himself from palming his bulge through his pants with his ear pressed to the bathroom door. he was thankful that girls took so long showering, so he had time to jerk himself off with your underwear wrapped tightly around his cock. it didn’t take him long before he soaked your panties in his sticky cum with a groan.
bsf perv otw!michael who loves to spoil you with gifts and affection. he adores the smile that beams on your face each time you thank him for a new bottle of lipgloss or nail polish. “that color looks good on you.” he’d say, watching the applicator swipe across your plump lips. he thought about your lips a lot.
bsf perv otw!michael who kisses you and calls you ‘baby’ and ‘my girl’, telling you that was completely normal things for friends to do. and how could you not believe him when he held you so close and pressed soft kisses to your lips & neck? he made it really hard to say no to him which is how you two ended up in compromising positions sometimes:
“just gonna kiss right here.” he’d tell you, somehow between your legs. you nodded, in a daze from how his lips felt along your thighs. you gasped when he licked up your cunt and pressed a kiss to your clit. “mmh, tastes so good baby,” he whispered before connecting his mouth back to your wetness. you could only moan as he lapped at your cunt over and over again, only stopping to suck at your puffy clit. “feels—feels so good mikey, gonna cum,” you whined, fingers tangled into his soft afro. he hummed against your cunt, “do it, wanna feel it, wanna taste you.” before you came on his mouth, and he lapped and sucked on your heat through your orgasm.
bsf perv otw!michael who gets addicted to you, and will never let you go.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jacksonsera!michael jackson x black bsf!reader
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sneaking into a cramped tour bus bunk at 3:00 am changes everything between you and your childhood best friend. trapped behind a velvet curtain mere feet from his sleeping brothers, the unspoken tension finally breaks in the dark. but in a world where everyone is watching, a single sound could cost you everything.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: friends to lovers, established friendship, forbidden, high stakes, slow burn to high heat, fluff, smut, fingering (f.recieving), cunnilingus (f.receiving), p in v, creampie, afterglow, emotional shift, set around the destiny tour.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7k
𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first and foremost, i wrote this at the request of my sistas (they know who they are). this is another idea that popped in my head when i found myself watching the destiny tour footage last night cause i couldn't sleep. michael in the 70's? untouchable, beautiful, brilliant.
The digital clock on the small dashboard up front glowed a faint, radioactive green: 3:14 AM.
Outside the tinted windows of the Custom Coach tour bus, the dark, flat stretches of the Midwestern highway blurred past in a monotonous hum. Inside the cabin was a narrow cavern of shadow, smelling of stale upholstery, Aqua Net, leather jackets, and the lingering, sweet scent of fast-food grease from a late-night pit stop three states back. The engine vibrated beneath the floorboards, a steady, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of tires against the asphalt seams that acted like a mechanical lullaby for the ten exhausted people crammed into the vehicle.
You lay perfectly still in your narrow, mid-level bunk, your eyes wide open, staring at the padded vinyl ceiling just a foot above your face. You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t slept properly since Pittsburgh.
Being hired as a wardrobe assistant and personal coordinator for the Jacksons’ 1979 Destiny Tour was supposed to be the break of a lifetime. As a young black woman trying to break into the industry, having the biggest family in music on your resume was golden. But the reality was a dizzying whirlwind of high-stakes pressure, endless rows of silver-sequeled shirts, ironing out creases under the blinding backstage lights, and navigating the intense, chaotic energy of the five Jackson brothers.
And then, there was Michael.
Your best friend. The boy you’d known since you were kids, back before the world fully claimed him, back when he was just the skinny kid with the biggest laugh and the loudest talent in the neighborhood. You’d stayed close through the Motown transition, through the move to Encino, through the name change to the Jacksons, and now into this monumental moment where he was shedding his teen-idol skin and stepping into something terrifyingly mature, brilliant, and magnetic.
But being his best friend on a tight, claustrophobic tour bus where his overprotective brothers, an eagle-eyed tour manager, and their security detail were always watching? It was a recipe for pure, agonizing tension. Because lately, the way Michael looked at you hadn’t felt very brotherly at all. And the way your heart hammered against your ribs every time he leaned in close to whisper a joke in your ear was getting impossible to hide.
A sudden, sharp rattle from the bus’s suspension made you flinch. You held your breath, listening.
Across the narrow, carpeted aisle, tucked behind a matching set of heavy, dark blue velvet curtains, Marlon was snoring softly. Below him, Jackie was dead to the world. The whole bus was an obstacle course of sleeping bodies and strict boundaries.
J*e Jackson wasn’t on this particular leg of the tour, but his spirit lingered in the rigid discipline expected of the brothers. No distractions. No scandals. No messing around with the crew. If anyone caught you so much as holding hands with the lead singer, you’d be off the tour and on a greyhound bus back home before sunrise, and Michael would face the wrath of a family dynamic that demanded absolute focus.
Suddenly, the soft, distinctive slide of plastic rings against a metal rod broke the silence of the cabin. Your chest tightened. You froze, your ears straining over the low drone of the engine.
Slow, hesitant footsteps padded softly against the thin carpet. They were weightless, almost silent–the unmistakable gait of someone who spent his life dancing on his toes. The footsteps stopped right outside your bunk.
For a second, there was nothing but the steady hum of the highway. Then, the heavy velvet curtain of your bunk parted an inch. A silver of the low, amber floor lighting cut across the dark interior, revealing a familiar, striking silhouette.
Michael.
His massive, perfectly rounded afro was backlit by the faint amber glow, framing his face in a halo of soft shadow. He was wearing his favorite, oversized red and white striped pajama pants and a thin, white cotton shirt that clung to the lean, dancer-cut lines of his chest and shoulders. His brown skin, smooth and dark, caught the dim light, looking damp and glowing. His large, expressive doe eyes searched the darkness of your bunk, wide and restless.
“You awake?” he whispered.
The sound of his voice was barely a breath, a soft, raspy murmur that vibrated straight through the quiet air and sent a shiver down your spine. He sounded so young, so gentle, yet there was a heavy, breathless weight to it that made your pulse instantly quicken.
“Michael?” you breathed, pushing yourself up slightly on your elbows, the thin cotton sheet pooling around your waist. “What are you doing? Oh my god, go back to bed.”
“I can’t,” he whispered back, his bottom lip turning out in a slight, boyish pout that you could just make out in the dim light. He shifted his eight from one foot to the other, looking around the dark cabin nervously before looking back around the dark cabin nervously before looking back at you. “My brain won’t turn off. I’ve been laying there for three hours just staring at the ceiling. The music won’t stop playing in my head. It’s just… buzzing.”
“Michael, your brothers are right across the aisle,” you hissed under your breath, your heart beginning to slam against your ribs like a trapped bird. You glanced frantically toward Marlon’s curtain, terrified it would twitch open. “If Jackie wakes up, or if the driver looks in the rearview mirror and see you standing here—”
“They won’t,” Michael cut in softly.
A tiny, teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes dancing with a mix of mischief and pure exhaustion. He leaned a little closer, lowering his head into the opening of your bunk. “Marlon sleeps like a log, you know that. You could fire a cannon in here and he’d just roll over. Please? Just let me sit with you for a little bit. Just until I calm down.”
You looked at him–really looked at him. Away from the stage lights, away from the screaming fans and the demanding producers and the pressure of his family’s expectations, he just looked like the boy you loved.
There was a raw, vulnerable tiredness in the slope of his shoulders, a quiet plea in his eyes that you had never been able to resist. You had been his safe haven for years, the one person who didn’t want anything from him except his happiness.
You let out a long, defeated sigh, though your heart was hammering so loud you were certain he could hear it.
“You are going to get me fired, Michael Joe Jackson,” you muttered, shifting your body all the way back against the cold, carpeted wall of the bus to create a narrow sliver of space on the mattress.
“No, I won’t. I promise,” he whispered, his smile widening, instantly lighting up his features.
With agonizing slowness, he lifted one long leg and slid into the bunk, his movement incredibly fluid and careful to avoid making the mattress creak. He pulled his other leg in, turning around so his back was to the opening, and reached out. His long, slender fingers gripped the heavy velvet curtain, pulling it completely shut until the plastic rings clicked softly together.
Instantly, the ambient amber light was cut off. You were plunged into total, velvety darkness.
The atmosphere inside the tiny bunk shifted instantly. It was a space designed strictly for one person; with Michael inside, it became an impossibly tight, suffocatingly intimate cocoon. You were forced chest to chest, your knees tangling with his long legs beneath the sheet just to fit within the narrow confines.
The first thing that hit you was his warmth. Michael radiated heat like a stove, his skin burning through the thin cotton of his shirt. The second thing was his scent–that intoxicating, distinct mixture of classic Bal à Versailles musk, clean sweat from the high-energy performance he’d given hours earlier, and the faint, comforting smell of cocoa butter. It filled the tiny space, completely overwhelming your senses.
“Gosh, it’s small in here,” Michael murmured, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating directly against your collarbone.
“I told you,” you whispered back, your hands instinctively coming up to rest against his chest to keep a sliver of distance between you. You could feel the rapid, steady thudding of his heart between your palms. He was just as wound up as you were. “You shouldn’t be here, Mike. Seriously. If your brothers find out, they’ll think… they’ll think something else is going on.”
“Let ‘em think,” Michael whispered softly.
Your breath hitched. That wasn’t the shy, giggly boy from the afternoon interviews. That was the voice he used when he commanded a room, low and steady and filled with a quiet, undeniable confidence.
In the pitch black, you felt him shift. His long arms came around your waist, his large hands spreading across the small of your back, pulling you firmly against him. The friction of his satin-lined pajama pants against your bare legs made your skin tingle. You were so close that every time he breathed, his chest expanded against yours, his nose brushing against the soft cloud of your hair.
“You smelled s’good today backstage,” Michael murmured, his voice a raspy, warm current against your ear. He tilted his head down, burning his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “I was on stage, singing ‘Rock With You’, and I looked out into the wings and saw you holding that silver jacket, just smiling at me. I swear, I forgot the words for a split second. You just… you just looked so beautiful.”
A hot flush traveled up your neck, your cheeks burning in the dark. “Michael…” you breathed, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t say things like that. You know we can’t. We’re best friends. And this… this tour is everything to your family. You can’t let anything mess it up.”
“You’re not a mess-up,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin right beneath your jaw as he spoke, sending a wave of electric goosebumps cascading down your arms. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane out here. Everyone wants a piece of me. Everyone’s pullin’ at me, telling me how to sing, how to dance, who to be. But when I’m with you… ‘m just Michael. I’m just me.”
He pulled back just enough so that you could feel the warmth of his gaze, even if you couldn’t see his eyes in the dark. His hand slid up from your waist, his long fingers framing across the side of your face. His thumb, slightly calloused from years of holding microphones, gently traced the line of your cheekbone, smooth and tender against your brown skin.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about you all night,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a desperate, breathy register that made your pussy ache with a sudden, sharp heat. “Ever since we left the venue. I just… I want to be close to you. s’close.”
The sheer honesty in his voice broke something inside of you.
The walls you had spent months building up–the professional distance, the reminders that he was a global superstar and you were just a girl from the neighborhood crumbled to dust in the dark of that tour bus bunk. You loved him.
You loved him in silence for god knows how many years, burying the need beneath laughter and shared secrets. But tonight, with the world locked outside that velvet curtain and the steady rumble of the highway beneath you, the temptation was too beautiful, too overwhelming to fight.
“Michael,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you leaned into the touch of his hand. “We have to be quiet. If anyone hears…”
“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb moving to brush against your lower lip, tracing its fullness. “I’ll be quiet. I promise. Just let me… let me love you tonight.”
Before you could respond, his head tilted, and his lips found yours.
The kiss was a revelation. It started soft, hesitant, a gentle press of warm, plush lips in the dark, testing the waters, asking for permission. But as you let out a soft, shaky sigh against his mouth, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened with a sudden, intoxicating hunger.
Michael groaned softly into your mouth–a low, throat-centered sound that you quickly swallowed, terrified it would travel past the curtain. His lips were incredibly soft, moving against yours with a natural, rhythmic grace that matched the way he moved his body on stage. He tasted like the peppermint candies he always sucked on before bed, sweet and sharp.
His tongue swept out, lightly tracing the seam of your lips, and when you opened for him, the kiss became deep, possessive, and thick with a desire that had been building between you for years.
His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you so flush against him that you could feel the hard, unmistakable ridge of his dick pressing through his pajama pants straight against your thigh. A sharp gasp caught in your throat, but Michael caught it with his lips, his tongue tangling with yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that made your head spin.
He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, both of you panting softly, your hot breaths mingling in the confined space. He didn’t let you go; instead, he rained a trail of soft, biting down the line of your jaw, his lips finding the sensitive pulse point on your neck. He sucked gently, his teeth grazing your skin, and you had to bite down hard on your own lip to keep from crying out as a surge of pure, unadulterated pleasure shot straight between your plush thighs.
“Michael… oh god,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his thick, soft afro, holding him close.
“You’re so soft,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his breath hot against your collarbone. “s’beautiful. Gosh, you drive me crazy…”
His hand slid down, his long fingers hooking into the hem of your oversized nightshirt. With slow, deliberate care to avoid any sudden movements that might rock the bunk, he pushed the fabric up, his warm palms skimming over the smooth skin of your thighs, your curvy hips, until the shirt was bunched around your ribs. When his bare hand made contact with the bare skin of your waist, you both shivered at the contrast of the cool air of the bus and the intense heat of his skin.
He shifted his weight, his knee gently prying your legs further apart so he could settle himself directly in between them. The sheer weight of him, lean but incredibly muscular from hours of daily dancing, pressing down onto you blew your mind. The bunk creaked–just a tiny, metallic groan from the springs, and you both instantly froze.
Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. You lay completely paralyzed, your eyes wide in the dark, listening intensely.
Outside the curtain, the steady thump-thump of the tires continued. Then, a heavy, rustling sound came from Jackie’s bunk across the aisle. Someone turned over, a low, sleepy mumble echoing in the dark cabin before settling back into silence.
Michael let out a silent, shaky laugh against your neck, his shoulders trembling slightly against yours. The sheer, dangerous adrenaline of the moment was like gasoline on a fire, making the desire between you burn twice as hot.
“See?” he whispered, his lips brushing your earlobe. “We’re okay. We’re okay, mama. Just stay right here with me.”
Instead of pressing forward immediately, Michael began to slide downward, his chest brushing against your abdomen as his hands firmly but gently gripped the supple flesh of your thighs, parting them wider.
“Michael, wait, what are you doing?” you gasped in a frantic whisper, realizing he was moving toward the foot of the bunk. The danger felt amplified tenfold now.
“Shh, let me,” he murmured from the darkness near your hips. “I want to taste you. Let me take care of you first.”
Your breath completely caught as you felt his warm, large hands slide under the small of your back, tilting your hips upward. You clenched your jaw, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the thin mattress beneath you. His fingers gently pulled aside your panties and when his warm, wet tongue made its first slow stroke from the entrance of your pussy up to your aching clit, a bolt of pure electricity shot straight up your spine.
You had to shove the fabric of your nightshirt into your mouth to muffle the high, desperate moan that tore from your throat. Michael was incredibly attentive, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit in and a soft, rhythmically flicker of his tongue.
He swirled his tongue over your clit, parting your lips with his fingers to lay the hood bare. He sucked gently, drawing the tiny, swollen bud into his mouth, finding a steady, agonizingly perfect lap that drove you absolutely wild. The heat radiating from his face against your inner thighs was overwhelming, making your dark skin slick with a mix of sweat and pooling slickness.
He paired the relentless friction of his tongue with his fingers, his slender index finger gently pressing against your entrance, slicked completely by your own heavy cream, before slowly sliding all of the way inside of you.
The sudden, blunt stretch of him filling you made you gasp against the cloth that was lodged between your teeth.
His finger pushed deep, tracking your internal curves. Michael let out a muffled hum against your pussy, clearly pleased by how hot and ready you were for him. He added a second finger, spreading you open from the inside, his long digits pumping slowly, deeply, curling upward to stroke the ribbed wall of your g-spot in a slow, bedroom groove that mimicked the heavy basslines he danced to every single night.
“Michael… please,” you whimpered through the cloth in your mouth, your thighs shaking violently, your lower body completely at the mercy of his tongue and his hands.
He was slicking your folds, his mouth widening to suck more of your flesh, his fingers thrusting in a wet, heavy rhythm that had your slick dripping down his hand. You were right on the edge, the coil of white-hot tension in your stomach tightening into an unbearable, beautiful knot.
He knew exactly what he was doing. He quickened the pace of his tongue, flicking hard and fast against your clit while his fingers bottomed out inside you, over and over. The dual sensation shattered you.
The dam broke, and you went completely rigid, a violent, trembling orgasm cascading through your entire body. Your muscles clamped down like a vise around his fingers as you shook, your muffled cries completely swallowed by the fabric of your shirt as your cum flooded over his hand.
Michael stayed right there, drinking in your orgasm, lapping up the sweet taste of you as your body bucked. He held your trembling hips steady until the last pulsing waves rippled through you, then pulled his fingers out slowly with a soft, squelching sound. He kissed the inside of your thighs before crawling up the length of your body, panting softly.
When he reached your face, he gently pulled the shirt from your mouth, slamming his wet mouth over yours to taste yourself on his lips. The kiss was deep, sloppy, and thick with shared, reckless passion. He reached behind himself, his long arm moving with fluid grace as he pushed his pajama pants down, his thick, heavy dick springing free in the dark. It was fully erect, dark and glistening with pre-cum, pulsing with a life of its own against your hip.
When the warm, blunt tip of his dick brushed against your dripping pussy, a sharp gasp caught in your throat. You didn’t waste time, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the need to be filled by him overriding every ounce of fear left in your body.
“Michael, please,” you begged in a frantic, barely audible whisper, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the defined muscles of his back ripple under your touch. “I need you. Please.”
“I’ve got you,” he whispered back, his voice trembling with the effort it took to control his own breathing. He raised himself up on his forearms, his hands coming up to trap your wrists gently against the padded vinyl wall of the bunk right above your head to anchor you both. “Look at me. I know it’s dark, but look at me. Hold onto my arms. Don’t make a sound, okay? Just let me love you.”
You nodded frantically in the dark, your eyes locking with where you knew his were.
Slowly, deliberately, Michael shifted his hips forward, aligning himself perfectly. He plunged into you with one, smooth but slow push.
The feeling was so intense, you felt so overwhelmingly full and hot, that your mouth flew open to scream. He was thick, stretching your gummy walls to their absolute limit as he sank deeper and deeper, the wet friction making a soft, sliding sound between your thighs. But Michael was already prepared.
He dropped his head, catching the high, breathless cry in the back of his throat with his own mouth. He groaned deep in his chest, a low, vibrating rumble that you felt through his chest walls as he sank completely inside of you, burying his hips hard against yours until he was fully bottomed out.
You broke the kiss, burying your face directly into the crook of his neck, your teeth gently biting into the hot skin of his shoulder to keep yourself silent. Your fingers dug into your palms as he began to move.
Because of the incredibly tight space, he couldn’t take long, sweeping strokes. Instead, he moved with short, shallow deep thrusts. His hips rolling against yours in a slow rhythm that mirrored the sensual, funky groove of his own music. He pulled out nearly all of the way, letting the slick head of his length graze your entrance, before burying himself back inside you with a heavy, wet thud of his hips.
It was pure, concentrated friction, every single movement designed to maximize the pleasure while keeping the physical impact completely silent.
“Oh, gosh,” he rasped, a breathy, broken sound escaping him as his pace quickened just a fraction.
His forehead rested against yours, his afro mixing with your own curls as his sweat began to drop onto your skin, warm and slick. “You feel so good. s’tight… s’warm. I can’t… I can’t get close enough.”
Your hips instinctively rolled up to meet every deep, heavy thrust, your slickness squelching loudly between your bodies in a way that made your face flush with heat. The pleasure was building rapidly all over again, a tight, second wave of tension that threatened to shatter you. Every time his dick hit that perfect, deep spot inside you, your toes curled and a wave of pure euphoria washed over you.
The high-stakes nature of the environment only heightened every single sensation. The danger of the dark cabin, the knowledge that his brothers were sleeping mere feet away, the rhythmic thump-thump of the bus tires acting as a metronome to your hidden sin–it made every touch feel forbidden, sacred, and incredibly intense.
Michael’s control was staggering, but you could feel him reaching his limit. The muscles in his back were tight as steel cords under your hands. His breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps that he forced himself to smother against your hair. He unpinned your wrists, his large hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting your legs higher onto his shoulders to drive himself deeper, harder, with a quiet, desperate urgency.
He began to pound into you faster, his hips slamming against yours in a frantic, quiet rhythm, his dick sliding through your cream over and over again until you were completely delirious.
“Hold onto me,” he whispered, his voice cracking with the sheer force of his movements. “Don’t let go. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”
You wrapped your hands around his biceps, pulling him down until there was absolutely no space left between you, your bodies completely fused together in the dark, sweating and slick. You rocked against him, your rhythm matching his perfectly, driving him wild.
“I’m close, Mike… I’m gonna…” you breathed, a tear of pleasure slipping from the corner of your eye.
“Cum for me, mama,” he rasped into your mouth, his lips finding yours again, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, more intense, bottoming out against your cervix with every strike. “Do it for me. Keep it quiet… just let it go.”
With one final, deep, rolling push of his hips, the coil inside you snapped for a second time. A beautiful wave of release crashed over you, your internal muscles clamping down tightly around his dick in a series of intense, pulsing contractions. You bit down so hard on his shoulder that you could taste the salt of his skin, your entire body trembling as you came harder than you have ever done before.
The tight, intense clenching of your body instantly pushed Michael over the edge. He let out a muffled, broken groan against your mouth. His body tightening into a rigid cord as a violent shudder wracked his frame. He split himself deep inside you, pulsing hard as he flooded your walls with thick, hot ropes of his cum. He gave two more slow, heavy, trembling thrusts, driving himself as deep as he could possibly go, before freezing completely. His forehead resting against your shoulder as his breath came in ragged, gaspy hitches.
For a long time, neither of you moved.
The only sound in the tiny bunk was the heavy, synchronized sound of your breathing, gradually slowing down to match the steady, familiar drone of the tour bus engine. Michael remained buried deep inside you, his heavy body pressing you comfortably into the mattress, his skin warm and slick against yours.
Slowly, the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a deep, heavy, and incredibly fluffy wave of warmth.
Michael shifted, letting out a long contented sigh that ruffled the hair near your ear. He carefully slipped out of you, a soft and wet sound breaking the silence that made you smile in the dark. He reached down, finding his discarded shirt at the foot of the bed, and gently cleaned you both up in the dark, his touch incredibly tender and sweet.
Once finished, he didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he pulled the thin cotton sheet back up over you and him, shielding you from the cool air of the bus. He shifted his long body, pulling you back against his chest so that you were cradled perfectly in his arms, his chest to your back, his knees tucked behind yours in a perfect spooning position.
His long arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you tightly against his warm, bare chest. He tilted his head down, kissing the back of your neck softly, his lips lingering against your skin.
“You okay?” he whispered, his voice returning to that soft, gentle, boyish register you knew so well.
“Yeah,” you whispered back, a soft smile spreading across your face as you rested your hands over his large ones that were splayed across your stomach. “I’m more than okay, Mike. But you really need to go back to your bunk before the sun comes up. If Marlon wakes up and sees your curtain open…”
“Five more minutes,” Michael murmured, his voice already sounding heavy and thick with sleep.
The restlessness that had plagued him hours ago was completely gone, replaced by a deep, profound peace. He snuggled closer, burying his nose into the soft curls of your hair, his grip tightening just a fraction around your waist. “Just five more minutes. This is the best sleep I’ve threatened to get all week.”
You let out a soft, quiet laugh, closing your eyes as the steady, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the highway tires lulled you both into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped up into the beautiful, forbidden warmth of the night.
you tell your fiancé how much he embodies a beautiful disney prince, and he gets you ready for bed in more ways than one. dedicated to @prettyangeliczz, ty for the brownshirt!jaafar inspo!! ;)
𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 ❤︎ late night fluff leading into 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.. our man is the perfect soft dom effortlessly balancing both sexy and sweet! includes dry humping, jaafar hitting it raw from the back, doggy into prone bone.. followed by the sweetest aftercare.
⟡ ۫ . ✉️ — jaafar had been out from morning to night, doing interviews around LA as part of the 𝑚𝑖𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑒𝑙 press tour, as had been the case for most of the last week. today you'd been at home for the majority of the day, and you knew jaafar wouldn't be returning until late at night—because after the interviews he had other appearances to make—so that made the mundanity of the day drag itself out into torture. you perhaps wouldn't have been half as frustrated if it hadn't been for how frequent jaafar's lack of domestic presence had been since the press tour began.
it was early evening when you realised you probably should've made some plans to make the day a little more enjoyable, but instead you just had to sit and distract yourself to pass the time. you couldn't wait to squeeze him.
at 11.30, he finally came home. you were lying on the couch, fighting to stay awake with the TV flickering in front of you, where you had long since lost interest in the show you'd chosen. but as soon as you heard the rattle of the key in the door, you smiled. finally. in came your fiancé, dressed in a silk brown co-ord, the outfit you'd fawned over that morning before he left.
"hey, pretty face.” your favourite bright smile grew on him as he walked over. happily while still so sleepy, you outstretched your arms for him to fall into.
"my man, i missed you..." you hummed into his neck as he leaned over to hug you.
"c'mon baby, it's late. i thought you'd be in bed," jaafar said, still smiling. he went to pull back, but you only held him tighter, keeping him there.
"wanted to wait for you."
at your words he grinned wider, then reached down and lifted you up against him with a low grunt, settling you into a bridal hold. "alright, let's get you upstairs."
you hummed in delight against the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent and feeling up his shoulders and biceps, the latter literally almost bursting through his long sleeved shirt.
"how was your day, baby?" jaafar whispered in your ear while he carried you upstairs. he bounced you once in his arms as he walked, and you made a sweet noise against his neck, at which he chuckled.
"good. i got lots done—ran some errands—and then just chilled here. but now i'm so tired... i'm so happy you're home."
"you should've just gone to sleep," he laughed softly.
"no, i'll always wait up for you," you protested.
"thank you, sweet girl."
then without a thought, you bit his bicep through his shirt, and of course he looked down at you bemused, even though you did that quite a lot. "you good there?"
"no, you're driving me crazy."
jaafar laughed. "shh, it's too late for that."
now at the top of the stairs, he continued carrying you to your shared bedroom. once you got there he put you down, but you were so sleepy and clingy that you kept your arms up around his neck, leaning back into him again like a sorrowful child, although you couldn't be happier.
"you okay?" he smiled down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist tight and rocking you softly. then he pressed a ton of kisses to your head, before pushing your head back gently to hold your jaw and stroke your skin with his thumb. "hm?"
"i missed you," you murmured, receiving another kiss on your nose.
"angel, i was gone for a day," jaafar chuckled, but in awe at how cute you looked below him, all sleepy with your makeup slightly smudged from how much you'd rubbed at your eyes.
"yeah, and it was a long day," you emphasised.
"aw, c'mere," he smiled, pulling you back into a tight hug. "i'm here now. let's go to bed, pretty girl."
you blushed, and a smile grew on your expression.
"oh, there's that smile," he teased, poking your nose. but it was his smile you'd been longing for while you'd endured such a tedious day.
now you pulled back again and looked up at him, in true awe of how gorgeous he was.
"you know you really look so much like a disney prince?"
"you've told me that many times, yes," jaafar laughed, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his arms. it was a casual move, yet still it made your head spin.
"but i'm serious," you persisted, with a yawn. "you always laugh it off like you don't agree with me. i swear, baby, i'm not just trying to flatter you because i'm your fiancée."
"whatever," he smiled bashfully, then began taking off his pants.
you decided to start getting undressed too, because standing there right in front of where his bulge was poking through his briefs was not a good idea at this time of night, when you both needed to be going to sleep.
so you changed into a white silk nightdress, then followed a half-naked jaafar into the bathroom. you blinked hard, in disbelief at the sight of him, despite how your long-term relationship meant that this was your norm.
as he took out the toothpaste, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and kissed the space beneath his left shoulder. "you should play prince naveen."
"in the princess and the frog?" he smirked in amusement.
"mhm."
"i'm sure they could find someone better."
"baby, the whole of the internet agrees with me."
now jaafar turned around, holding your waist with his gentle touch. "yeah? the whole of the internet?" he found this very comical.
"everyone who's talking about you, yeah. at the top of every comment section is always somebody saying how handsome you are, and that you look like a prince."
now he did in fact blush. he bit his lip too, unable to suppress how your compliments made him feel, even if he wouldn't always believe them at first. "they're really saying that?"
"yes. you want me to show you?"
jaafar squinted, a small smile still on his lips, and because he didn't say no, you skipped off to get your phone.
you leaned into his bare chest as you showed him the comments, and he looked at them in complete bemusement. he knew he looked good, but he had really never viewed himself as anything special, even though you always made a big deal of how apparently perfect he was.
"alright, don't let this inflate your ego now," you joked, moving to face him with your hands in his. "but this proves that everyone else sees what i see."
jaafar was by no means insecure, but his shyness meant that he didn't like to own up to being so beautiful, in favour of modesty and his naturally humble nature, but also you were so obsessed with showering him in compliments that it was easy and very understandable for him to resort to thinking that what you said about his appearance was mere exaggeration.
he turned to take out his toothbrush.
"they're also talking about your ass all the time," you added humorously.
immediately he understood, and smirked. "the striped pants."
"precisely."
you both laughed.
"and," you added, "they're also writing fanfiction about you."
jaafar turned his head back to you and raised a brow.
"i mean, of course they are," you said matter-of-factly.
he only shook his head in amusement.
once you were done with your night routine, you were both back in your bedroom and jaafar was on his knees, applying the last bit of lotion to your legs. vanilla and shea butter. you'd bought it for yourself initially, and then it soon turned into something that jaafar himself would cherish, because he was obsessed with its scent on your skin.
his big, smooth hands rubbed the product up and down your legs, and you couldn't deny that there was now a serious ache of arousal between your thighs.
"all done," he said with a kiss to your ankle. "come on, sleepyhead."
you giggled. your man always treated you like a princess, and how fitting, for as you'd previously emphasised, he was in fact akin to a prince.
you quickly got settled under the comforter together, and even though you'd both intended to go to sleep straightaway, as usual you ended up making out instead. it started off softly, just your mouths meeting between murmurs and gazes at each other, but it soon deepened when jaafar slipped in his tongue, and with your craving for him you only intensified things from that point. hooking your leg over his thigh, you pulled him even closer to you, moaning into sloppy kisses.
"you don't seem very tired anymore, huh?" jaafar smirked.
"need you, baby..." you whispered, before resuming the kiss.
wordlessly he shifted so that he laid back with you on top of him, and beneath your nightdress he gripped and squeezed your ass. you rocked over his bulge while he marked up your neck, groaning into the crevices.
"you need me to give it to you, yeah sweet girl?" he asked against your skin.
you sighed loudly at the vibration of his voice. "please, baby," you whined, leaning back to straddle him properly, now starting to dry hump his clothed cock.
jaafar shot you a teasing smile. oh how desperate you were for him—you could hardly go a night without getting fucked. not that he minded, of course.
"jaafar," you moaned again, with one hand flat on his chest and the other on his bicep as you rocked over him faster, grinding down hard.
he continued to smirk at how visibly horny you were, but he couldn't deny how insane he felt too, all because of you. he had his lip held between his teeth, pupils dilated at the perfect sight before him—and of course at the feeling of your wetness seeping through your panties and onto his briefs. the damp patch was visible every time you moved a little further back on him.
"oh yeah, that's it, baby. grind on me just like that... you're a fucking angel..."
now it was his turn to bestow compliments, and he wouldn't hesitate to tell you just how naturally beautiful you looked. no makeup, just you in your barest form. you truly were a celestial beauty, moving divinely over your man, and he gripped your hips to guide your movements.
"j, i don't wanna cum like this."
"i know," jaafar said softly, pulling you down to kiss you with fervour. "lay on your back, baby."
you did as he said, getting comfortable against the pillows, and he got on his knees, leaning over to pick up another, which he then placed beneath your hips. jaafar always took so much care with you, and knew the best ways to increase your pleasure and make you feel the most comfortable.
he tugged down his briefs with a relieved groan, where even though it had felt perfect to have you dry hump him, his cock was aching with desire.
your own pupils dilated at the sight, and now he shuffled closer, suddenly pulling your legs up onto his shoulders. you squealed, splaying your arms out across the sheets as you smiled prettily at him above, so ready to be fucked into the mattress.
with his signature smile never departing his expression, jaafar tugged your soaked panties down your legs. when the fabric pooled at your ankles, he caught the sweet scent so addictive to his senses, and cursed under his breath.
then after tossing them to the side, he kissed over each of your ankles like a true gentleman. every inch of you he cherished, and not one aspect of his love was left undemonstrated.
"now let's get this off," he chuckled—referring to your nightdress—letting go of your legs and coming closer to settle himself between your thighs.
"baby..." you immediately started giggling when he began attempting to pull the dress up and over your head, because he kept unintentionally tickling you as he did.
"this fuckin' thing." he complained at the obstacle he was facing as he struggled, but you only laughed more, turning around slightly to show him that he needed to untie it first. that was why it was so difficult for him to take off.
"oh."
"yes. it ties at the back," you continued to laugh.
with an eye roll, jaafar finally worked the fabric off you and threw it aside, leaving you completely nude in front of him.
"you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen. seriously."
"jaafar..." you whispered shyly, his strong gaze and that pretty smile definitely not helping you to deal with your insatiable desires.
he only shook his head with a chuckle, then nudged his tip at your entrance. you gasped as he rubbed the head up and down your glistening slit, and then he surprised you with a quick smack of his length along your pussy. you squirmed and he laughed above you.
"alright baby, on your stomach f'me."
you hummed happily, rolling over onto your stomach to oblige. jaafar gripped your waist, then slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed, before giving one cheek a light smack.
you whined, turning your head back to look up at him still teasing you with that stupid smile. he held your waist again, and repositioned you so that you were now face down, ass up.
you waited patiently, forearms planted into the sheets, as he again ran the weight of his manhood up and down your pussy, smearing his already leaking tip with your juices. you had even surprised yourself how you'd managed to get this wet so quickly.
"you ready for me, hm?"
"yes, baby..." you cut yourself off with another moan as you tried to push your ass back against him, desperate for his thick cock to fill you.
"okay, if you say so..." you heard him tease, and slowly he pushed in. instantly you braced yourself, eyes clamping shut with the force of his girth stretching you out.
"that's it, baby girl, just a little more..." he cooed, massaging circles into your lower back.
"jaafar... 's too big—"
"i know, i know, sweetheart but you take it perfectly every time. you need it tonight, hm?"
"yeah, need it so bad..." you pushed your ass upward again, unconsciously this time, and he squeezed the soft skin there, groaning as he pushed himself further inside.
you steadied your breathing, although it was very difficult. it always was. except, jaafar was right—you did take that huge cock every time, no matter how difficult the stretch initially.
when he bottomed out, he whispered more praise. "look at you, pretty girl... all full now." the sight of your pussy wrapped around his shaft drove him insane, and he didn't wait a moment longer to begin his thrusts.
as he set the pace, he smacked your pretty ass, and your head fell even further forward into the pillows while lewd sounds spilled from your throat. "oh baby, right there—you're so deep, fuck—"
"yeah angel, that's the spot, i know..."
you whined and gasped over and over as his cock plunged in and out of your walls, nudging that spongy spot with ease. jaafar's low moans harmonised with yours of a higher pitch, and his pelvis smacked against your hips with every movement.
then he leaned forward a little, and tugged your head back through grabbing a handful of your hair—careful not to hurt you but with enough suddenness to display his passion. now he whispered to you, and the contrast between his sweet cadence and the filthy words that came from his lips made you dizzy.
"how's it feel, sweetheart?"
all you could do was produce noises from your throat that would give him his answer. you heard his warm laugh in your ear and almost came on the spot.
"rub your clit for me, princess."
at his order, you reached down and began toying with your bundle of nerves, intensifying the pleasure that had already sent you to cloud nine. meanwhile, jaafar's strokes never once slowed, and every so often you received a quick smack to your ass and another tug of your hair so that he could whisper more filth close in your ear. you loved this position so much for that reason.
and coincidentally, you had just been thinking about the position's only negative element—that you couldn't feel jaafar's body weight on you—when it appeared that the man had read your mind. gently, he pushed your lower half down so that your whole body met the sheets like before, and then leaned himself forward to rest his torso against your back. prone bone—one of the most perfect positions in existence, and it almost seemed that jaafar had interacted with your mind telepathically, to know exactly what you wanted. he knew you needed to feel him like this.
jaafar groaned in your ear as he settled against your skin, and switched the pace to slower, but just as beautifully deep. "fuck, i love you, sweet girl..."
"baby, i love you so much..."
"you mean everything to me. i love having you like this," he whispered, and the whisper alone sent a shiver down your spine to pair with the pleasure of his thrusts.
"me too j, you fuck me so good..."
"and that's 'cause i know exactly what this pussy needs, don't i, huh?" he moved your hair over one of your shoulders to reveal the nape of your neck, then pressed kisses over every inch that was available to him.
"how lucky am i," he nibbled at your skin, "to have a goddess in my bed?"
you giggled and gasped at the same time. "not as lucky as i am to have a real life disney prince in mine."
again, you heard his beautiful laugh in your ear. "a goddess is a little better than a prince, sweetheart."
"depends—fuck—which prince we're talking about."
jaafar smiled to himself, then started to pick up the pace because he was close and could tell you were too.
"jaafar, fuck, i'm gonna cum," you almost screamed, the sound swallowed by the fabric beneath you.
"i know pretty baby, let me get you there..." he kissed all over your upper back and shoulders, turning your head to cradle it in his hand as he feverishly devoured your lips. you were his pillow princess, and in that moment he was devoting everything he had to you, as he always did each time you were together.
"alright, let go for me angel, i can feel how much you need it..."
"oh baby—"
finally, you reached your climax, body seizing as jaafar continued to talk you through it. you felt him throb and twitch inside you.
"shhh, so perfect for me... did so well, baby—fuck, one sec—"
quickly he pulled out, stroking himself rapidly over your lower back while you tried to steady your breathing, still coming down from your high. he groaned behind you, pumping his cock until ropes of warm cum spilled onto your skin.
now entirely exhausted, you shut your eyes in complete satisfaction. there was no better way to end the night, because you knew you'd sleep so soundly after that treatment from your man.
and your body was already beginning to succumb to a slumber, but you heard jaafar speak behind you, warming your hips with his big hands.
"hey, don't fall asleep yet. gotta get you cleaned up first, baby."
you sighed in gratitude and content, waiting patiently as he wiped his release from your lower back. then he pressed a kiss to the area, and followed that with more kisses stemming from there to the top of your neck. he deliberately made each kiss ticklish, especially with the light touch of his fingers running up and down. you giggled deliriously, so sleepy and sex-worn.
"now you need to pee," he reminded.
you groaned and looked back at him. "no, i hate this part—i just wanna stay here."
he smiled down at you, resting so cutely against the sheets, then rolled you onto your back and—without you even needing to ask—picked you up into a bridal carry, getting up off the bed with you in his arms.
you made a soft noise of appreciation as your head tucked itself against his shoulder, arms going around his neck. "thank you, my prince."
jaafar chuckled, making his way through to the bathroom, and there setting you down on the floor. you'd happily live a life where your fiancé carried you everywhere.
afterward, he picked you up again, even though this time it wasn't necessary—but jaafar was a natural gentleman that way. every action was done with care and reverence. you felt so protected in his strong hold as he carried you.
"i love you, beautiful," he whispered, and you felt those same butterflies that never seemed to dissipate when you were with him.
he dropped you onto the bed playfully, then got in beside you, both of you laughing in pure joy. pulling you into his chest, he leaned down a little and kissed all over your face, pecking from your forehead to your nose, to your cheeks and to your jaw, leaving no skin untouched while you scrunched up your face in shyness beneath each kiss. you rested your leg over his, one hand drawing circles over his chest below where he played with your hair. your breasts were semi-touching his chest too, and the skin-on-skin contact made you both shiver.
"you feelin' good, sweetheart?"
"amazing, thanks to you." tenderly, you gave him kisses over his skin too. "but so sleepy now. orgasms literally work better than a melatonin pill."
jaafar chuckled. "glad i could help with that."
a few moments of silence passed, where the two of you breathed in each other's quiet comfort. then jaafar tapped your cheek to make you look up at him, where his heart melted to see you so graceful against him even in your drowsiness, your eyes shining under the scarce light from outside, lighting up the otherwise darkness.
he squeezed your face with one hand, rubbing his thumb in a soft caress, simply wanting to look at you.
"yes, baby?" you asked, assuming he wanted to say something.
"just admiring you," he grinned, hand going into your hair again.
you smiled and dragged his free arm over. interlinking your fingers with his, you then shuffled to move on top of him, and as was typical, bit the muscle of his bicep.
jaafar laughed, cupping your chin now. "i can get you something to eat if you're hungry."
"i just love your arms," you smiled against that same bicep again, kissing up and down it.
"better go to sleep before you get all worked up again, huh?" he smirked.
you nudged him with a playful scold. "shut up, i'm not an insatiable animal."
"you seem like one sometimes," he hit back.
you rolled your eyes, but found yourself spending the next two minutes kissing tenderly over his neck, creating multiple hickeys in the process. you were so crazy over him that it was almost as if you were still living in the early honeymoon phase. jaafar felt the exact same way.
that night, you fell asleep kissing his neck, while he massaged the soft skin of your torso down to your ass. he let you stay there on top of him for a little while, relishing in how perfect and intimate the position felt. and then, as gently as could be, he rolled onto his side, pulling you into his arms as he did so, weaving his limbs into yours.
jaafar might have always called you a princess as merely a pet name, but the way he treated you was nothing short of experiencing the real disney fantasy every little girl dreamed of. if every day and every night until death could be like this, you'd be justified in declaring that the life you cherished with your fiancé was one belonging to a princess, for he was your very own prince.
hii, thank you so much for all the love on my recent fics! i really appreciate the feedback. hope you guys enjoyed this one.. ♡
-summary: you meet a fine man at a club that you believe you can take down, but he shows you exactly what you needed.
-warnings: smut!!!! mdni!! alcohol, unprotected sex, dirty dancing, oral sex (f! receiving), cowgirl, backshots, jermajesty and reader talking cash shit, usage of ‘ma’, lowkey somehow got a little delusional and lovey dovey
-word count: 5.5k
-notes: hey yall im back. posting this 20 minutes before i have to get ready for this fuck ass job. ive been busy with family so this took way longer than it should’ve but im satisfied with it. lowkey tired of doing super freaky stuff all the time so my next few posts might be pure fluff and straight angst, i need to feel something. hope you guys like it! please feel free to send in requests or asks. based off of this ask (the pics below are my fit references)
-jelly🪼
The club was loud, music blasting, boisterous chatter and laughter ringing out. There were bottles being brought to VIP sections, shots poured and chasers following suit. The scent of perfume, alcohol, and the faint smell of weed wafted in from outside.
Jermajesty and his brothers finally had a bit of free time, busy schedules finally slowing down as the weekend started. They had finally wore him down and convinced him to come outside with them rather than stay at home on the game like he normally does on Saturday nights.
The men had bought out a private section, a couple bottles to go around, and invited a few girls up to the section when they walked in. There were two on Randy’s arm, another hanging off of Jaafar, and the last girl had walked away, irritated that Jermajesty wasn’t interested.
It wasn’t like he was outright ignoring her, but he wasn't one to flirt with and fuck just anyone. He engaged in conversation with everyone, took shots with the girl, even let her talk his ear off about her no good ex who allegedly couldn’t fuck her right; it was obvious she wanted him to take that as a hint and leave with her.
He would never admit it aloud, not one to boast much; but he knew from past experiences that he gives great dick, and he wasn't looking for long term; not with her at least. He had no reservations about long term relationships, he just didn’t want them with those specific people; but he was truly a lover boy at heart.
His head bobbed along to the music that the DJ played, another shot warmed his chest, watching a few girls out on the dance floor and near the bar. The ladies were very pretty, long legs, and thick thighs on show while they danced on each other and giggled as they took shots.
He considered bringing one of them up when his attention shifted towards the door. A gorgeous woman with flawless brown skin walked in, phone pressed to her ear. He hadn’t even noticed one of the girls in his section was also on the phone until he heard her say “Look up,” and your eyes shifted to their section, eyes locking with his.
She wore a black two piece set, metal loops cut out and pins going through the material, leaving a perfect view of her belly piercing and a little titty. Her skirt matched, short, just barely covering her ass, thick thighs on show leading down the black heels she wore. Her hair in long, loose curls, a thick bang covering her forehead with her fringe flipped towards her pretty face. Carrying a white, patterned Dior purse, long stiletto nails on display.
Her outfit immediately made her stand out in the sea of the same leather mini skirts and shorts with leather corsets. She didn’t immediately walk to the private section, instead going to the bar to speak to the bartender.
Jermajesty watched her dainty hands pick up a shot glass that was slid toward her, and take the shot with ease, no reaction. She pointed to one of the bottles behind the bartender, plush lips addicting to look at while she spoke. Grabbing her bottle, she finally turned back towards the section where her friend was, taking her time to get there, a groove in her step as she vibed to the beat of the current song that was playing.
“Who is that? She ‘bout fine as hell.” he asked aloud. Her friend giggled, giving him a knowing look. His brothers just laughed, silently agreeing with him.
“That’s my girl, Y/N.” That’s all the girl could say before they noticed you inching closer, her arms out ready to give hugs to her girl. Aaliyah squealed and jumped up to hug her, compliments flying around and catching her up on who she had her coming around.
You turned to look at the three men, all very handsome in the face, dressed well, jewelry shining. They clearly had money, but they weren’t flashy about it. This immediately made you relax just a tad, grateful to not have to pay a man’s way in a club. The last time completely turned you off.
“Randy, Jaafar, Jermajesty,” Aaliyah pointed at all the men respectively, all of them flashing smiles and greetings. You smiled back, telling them your name. Aaliyah had taken her seat on Jaafar’s lap again, and that’s when you noticed the only free seat was next to the man with the cute gap between his teeth. Perfect.
You sat down, turning your body to face Jermajesty. His hair in soft, dark curls; good enough to tangle your fingers in. Lips soft enough to kiss. Though he was sitting, you could tell he was tall, at least 6 feet tall. Large hands that you couldn’t help but imagine around your through or smacking loud spanks against your ass.
“Jermajesty, huh,” you tested the name on your tongue, it was different. “That’s unique as fuck. I like it.” You took a look around, seeing the two women you didn’t recognize completely enamored by Randy, shot glasses on the tables, half empty bottles. They clearly had been having fun, but now that you were here, you were gonna show them a hell of a time.
He chuckled at your comment, brown eyes scanning you, obviously he liked what he saw. “And yall got started without me,” you made a fake offended face, eyes darting to your friend, who pretended she didn’t see your eyes on her.
You made conversation with everyone, learning the names of the other two ladies, Finding out the three men were brothers, and the two ladies, Natasha and Ro, were lifelong friends, you spoke about careers and goals a bit, had a few shots between conversations, then took the hand of one of the women, dancing on her, grinding the fat of your ass against her front, the rest of the ladies getting up and dancing with you.
The men watched the 4 ladies grind on each other, playfully smacking each other on their asses, pulling each others skirts or dresses down when they rode up too high. The women weren’t focused on the attention of the men, having a great time giggling with each other and going bar for bar when an old Lil Wayne song came on.
You had a natural beauty that easily sucked people into you, the life of the party. Making sure everyone was relaxed and having fun, no stiff bodies, or stank attitudes allowed around you. Strictly good vibes.
You grabbed the bottle of tequila, going around the room and pouring shots in everyone’s mouths, the goal for everyone to leave fucked up and having a great time. By the time you got to Jermajesty, he was sitting on the couch, eyes still tracking your every move.
You nudged his ankle with your heel, letting him know to spread his legs a bit more so you could stand between them. A soft hand came up to cup his chin, tilting his head back a bit. You stared into his chocolate eyes as you poured the shot into his mouth, a small smirk ghosting your face.
After swallowing his shot, he stood up, finally allowing you to see the full height of him and grabbed the bottle from your hands. A large hand ran down the side of your body, tracing the curves he was beginning to obsess over, before landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him.
He cocked your head up towards him with a gentle finger, tapping your chin softly so you get the hint to open your mouth. The alcohol slid down your throat smoothly, heating up your chest, adding to the buzz you were already feeling. He maintained eye contact the entire time.
You knew he would be a problem, dangerous. He was calm and collected, adding small comments here and there, hyping you up when you danced or rapped along to your favorite rappers, laughing with his brothers when an inside joke was referenced. He even pulled his phone out, taking a quick picture of the bottles on the table to post to his story.
Not once did he try and flaunt in your face, he intently listened to everything you said, making sure to lean in if he couldn’t hear clearly. He asked clarifying questions while you spoke. Just the perfect gentlemen. But you knew this was a cover, a façade. Something darker buried underneath.
“You real sexy, you know that, ma?” Had it been anyone else saying this to you, you would’ve cringed and made a face before you could even realize you had done it. Pet names can be weird depending on who’s saying it and how they say it. But the way ‘Ma’ smoothly rolled off his tongue, it made your clit jump, just a little bit.
Your eyes flickered to his lips then back to his eyes, a cocky smile on your face. “Yeah, I know. I could say the same thing about you,” your looked him up and down, his cologne was intoxicating. Before he could respond, your eyes widened, clearly excited by the song that started to play.
“I wanna hear all my ladies turning up to the muthafuckin’ stallion!” The DJ yelled out.
All the girls hopped up, hyped about the song before going to their respective men for the night, rapping the song to them. “Big Ole Freak” by Megan Thee Stallion, a perfect song to party to. Your body swayed, sensual, seductive. Your curves catching the light, lips moving in sync with the music, you leaned into his attention, but not one time did your eyes divert from his.
Not when you ran a hand down your body rapping the part about making him wait for the pussy. Not when you got to the part where she said “Suck it then look in his eyes. Then the next day I might leave him on read.” Not when he started to feel impatient and needed you to come closer so he beckoned you with a “come here” motion of his hand.
When you made your way over to him, you turned around, giving him a full view of your backside, the red ink across your back now perfectly visible to him. You grinded down on his crotch, making sure to look back at him and keeping your eyes locked on his.
The isolations of your waist and how the fat of your ass clapped and jiggled pulled him into a trance. His hands coming to grip your waist, guiding you to grind down harder. He couldn’t wait to have you bounce on his dick like this.
You sang the chorus to him, leaning back against his chest, head on his shoulder as you kept grinding on him. His hands rubbing all over you, one on your thighs the other ghosting on your neck, giving your throat the lightest squeeze.
The lyrics continued to flow off your tongue like you wrote them yourself, your already confident demeanor only growing. You could feel the arousal growing, panties slick and the alcohol making you a little dizzy. You were ready to take him down, and it was clear he was ready for you too.
“Imma call an uber. You coming home with me tonight.” He was confident in his approach, sure you would leave with him. And you were absolutely planning on it, but you can’t allow a man to think he’s in charge. All your life, you’ve ran things exactly how you want them to go, not liking people making decisions for you. But something about the finality in his tone, almost stern, it was sexy.
“And who told you that?” A true brat at heart, you couldn’t help it.
“Nobody gotta tell me, ma. I know you want me.” His demeanor never faltered, he was so laid-back. You laughed, shocked at his certainty.
“You wouldn’t even know what to do with me, nigga. You probably wouldn’t last 5 minutes if I put it on you.” Your assertiveness and certainty about your performance in bed amused him. He liked your attitude, he liked how you talked back to him, he liked how confident you are. Now he had to make sure to break you. He was going to be nice about it, dick you down a few times and try to get to know you better, but now he was on a mission.
“Is that right?” You nodded, tracing patterns on his free hand, fantasizing about his fingers touching that spot that made you squirm and whimper. Letting you cum all over them before he made you lick them clean.
He nodded his head, a quiet hum leaving his lips. It was clear he didn’t do much talking, he could show you better than he could tell you. “C’mon,” he grabbed your hand and helped you off his lap. “Say bye to your friends, you’ll talk to them later.” You gave all the ladies a hug, Aaliyah holding on a little longer whispering to make sure your locations were sharing and on.
After confirming you had each other's locations, you waved bye to his brothers and followed him out of the club, the humid summer breeze hitting you as soon as you stepped outside. He guided you to the uber, helping you into the SUV. “Comfy?” You nodded, resting your entwined hands on your lap.
The ride was mostly silent, not awkward silence, but there was thick tension in the air, anticipation rising. You had had your share of experience, not all of them horrible. A couple actually went quite well, a partner or two managing to make your body quiver with orgasms. If you were on top, it was game over.
Not one man had managed to last long when you started to ride them with ease, often times trying to change positions to take control. The swivel of your hips, and the way you would ride from base to tip, taking all of them with ease. You were sure you could do the same to the man sitting next to you, not shying away from your gaze when you caught him eye fucking you.
The uber slowed down, pulling up to a luxury apartment complex. The driver turned around to face you, thanking you for riding with him and reminding you guys to rate him 5 stars. Jermajesty stepped out first, helping you out of the car, keeping you steady when you stumbled.
He kept his hand in yours, leading you to the elevator and to the highest level, revealing his penthouse. Nicely decorated, lived in but not unkempt, a stray hoodie thrown across a couch, a glass left on a coffee table. He kicked his shoes off by the door, you went to do the same when he put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.
“Let me help you get comfortable.” He knelt down, keeping a leg elevated, and guided one foot to his lap, helping to slide off the heels that were starting to make your feet ache, the other shoe following.
He stood up, crowding your space and walking you backwards to the wall behind you. “You had a lot to say at that club. Where’d all that energy go, ma?” Your heart started to race, the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hand finding your waist, his warm breath against your neck was overwhelming. His voice was soft, but commanding, a strictness to him. Your body wanted nothing more than to give in to him, let him have his way for you. But you were headstrong, stubborn since you were born, you would never just give in.
“You talk real tough when you should be eating my pussy.” His head shot up, eyes wide with surprise at your bluntness. You stared at him, gaze unwavering. You meant what you said. But you hadn't expected him to kneel down in front of you, eyes burning with lust.
He pulled your wet panties down, letting them hang off of one ankle as he brought a leg over his shoulder. “You right, ma. Come put that pussy in my face.” You ran a hand through his hair, gently gripping it to guide him to your sopping heat.
The second his tongue licked a broad, wet stripe up your slit, you moaned in relief. You could feel him everywhere. His tongue licking and sucking at your clit, then dipping the slightest bit into your entrance to clean up the slick that accumulated.
“Oh- fuck, just like that.” Your hips gyrated against his face, his nose brushing against your clit making your knees buckle. Your eyes didn’t know whether to roll back or maintain eye contact with him. Your mouth ajar, breath heavy. Either all the shots were making you extra sensitive tonight, or he was immaculate with his head game.
Jermajesty hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations sent chills down your spine. The grip on his hair tightened, messily rubbing yourself on his face. His face was covered in your arousal, the grip he had on your thighs tightened. Expect to see those bruises tomorrow.
“Got some good pussy, dont you baby?” His words were so vulgar, you could see how hard he was through his pants. Eating you out was turning him on so much, he swears he could cum just like this.
Your head nodded rapidly, “Couldn’t wait to give it to you- fuck! It’s so fucking good.” Your legs quivered, your head fell back against the wall. You could feel your hot release was coming fast, making your stomach tighten and your knees buckle. He held you steady, keeping you upright as he finished his ministrations on you.
Before you could warn him, your orgasm came crashing over you. Your body shook as a loud cry came from you. Heat shot through your body, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The grip on his hair tightened, trying to pull him away from your swollen clit.
His name was the only thing you could utter, mind clouded with thoughts of him touching you all over. He wouldn’t let up, the sting of his hair being pulled only fueled his desire for you. You tried to press a hand against his forehead to push him back, but he just smacked it out of the way. “I’m almost done, baby. Just gotta clean you up.”
He hadn’t stopped until you went limp against the wall, his body holding you up. He could see the bliss in your eyes, pride swelling in his chest that he had made you feel this way. Rising to his feet, he gently sets your leg down, making sure to keep you steady as you regained your balance.
“Damn, you might know a lil something.” You both laughed, leaning into each other as you giggled. He pulled you into a kiss, soft and slow, arousal quickly building inside of you again. But when you went to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, a mocking smile on his face.
He grabbed your hand leading you to his bedroom. The room was spacious, a California King sized bed taking up a large space. There was a plush, white couch in one corner of the room, and an elaborate gaming setup in another corner of the room.
You hurriedly tugged your skirt off, and pulled at the strings of your shirt to loosen them, pulling until your breasts were completely on show. Jermajesty followed your lead, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his pants off, leaving him in just his underwear.
You could tell from his print that he was big, it almost made you nervous. Almost. But you loved a challenge, and for your own ego and pride, you were determined to be able to take all of him.
He pulled his sheets and comforter back, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting on you to once again grace him with your hands on him. You took your time going to him, hands gripping your tits and teasing your nipples. The way his eyes followed you made you feel empowered. You couldn’t wait to rock his world.
When you were standing in front of him, he immediately buried his face in your boobs, taking one nipple into his mouth, massaging the other. You were so soft and curvy, perfect to squeeze and cuddle up with. “Scoot to the middle, baby.” He followed your direction, laying in the middle of the bed.
You crawled up to him, gripping the waistband of his underwear to pull them off, discarding them in the room somewhere. You spit in your hand, rubbing it on his tip, mixing it with the precum that was dribbling down. He hissed, hips bucking a bit, quiet curses leaving his mouth.
Straddling him, you maneuvered from your knees to your feet, reaching back to grasp his thick length to guide it to your entrance. The tip of his dick was blunt, mushroom like. 7 ½ inches, pretty pink tip, veins running down.
Sinking down, you gasped. He was big, and even though you weren’t a virgin, it almost felt like it. The blunt tip forcing its way into your wet pussy, sucking him in. “Fuck, so tight.” If Jermajesty had to imagine what heaven would feel like, he would describe this.
You gave a couple experimental bounces, seeing if you could handle all of him. Your walls tightened against him, his tip pressing into that gummy spot that made your arousal drip down his dick.
At first, his hands stayed on the bed, clenching. His face contorted in pleasure. He did his best to not let too many moans escape him, not wanting to give you that satisfaction just yet, but the way your pelvis is connecting with his was driving him nuts.
Your sticky arousal mixed with his precum connected you, you could see it every time you rode all the way to his tip back down to the base, pussy swallowing him up whole. “Oh my fucking god- This dick is so good.” Your head lolled back, placing your hands on his chest to keep steady.
While you babbled about how good he felt, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were taking that dick like a champ, riding him with no effort, making sure to pull almost completely out before slamming back down on him again. The slapping of your ass agaisnt his thighs mixed with the wet schlick schlick schlick sounds that your pussy was making sent him into overdrive.
“Take that dick, ma. You can do it.” His hands finally gripped your waist, just holding so you can do your thing. He liked how you took initiative, how you kept going even though it’s been a while, but your pace never changed. You rode his dick like you owned it, and he was loving it.
“Nngh~ you’re so fucking deep in me. Wanna keep this dick for myself.” You leaned back and balanced your hands on his thighs, giving him a better view of your pussy swallowing his dick whole, so tight and needy.
He loved the idea of you being possessive over him, loved that you were making it known and you weren’t shy about it. He wanted you to have him and he doesn't even know you all that well yet. “Yeah? That’s your dick?” You shakily nodded, a sob escaping. You don't know this man all that, but feeling every vein and ridge of his dick could make you consider marrying him. The alcohol still wasn’t helping to ease these feelings delusions.
Jermajesty could feel his dick throb, his orgasm close. That’s when you knew you had him, you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you, the frothy white ring around his base becoming thicker with every bounce. “Gimme that nut, pa. Wherever you want it.”
He didn’t want to cum before you, but you weren’t slowing down, slapping his hands away when he tried to control your pace. You were determined to make him cum as hard as he had done to you. “Oh my- fuck, ma. ‘m bout to nut. Wait.” His grip on your hips tightened, his toes curled tightly. His broken moans sent electricity through you, you could feel your own orgasm coming.
It only took a few more bounces before his eyebrows furrowed, eyes clenched shut. Before it could get inside of you, you pulled his dick out of you, his cum spurting out against your stomach, some landing on your belly piercing. His face was calm, satisfied. But you weren’t.
He wasn’t soft yet, dick still wet from being inside of you. You slipped him back in, leaning back to recreate that angle you loved so much, the one that made him hit your g-spot every time. “Ma, wait. I’m sensitive.” His thighs twitched, hands tight around your waist.
“I’m almost there, gimme a second.” His whiny moans and whimpers made your pussy convulse around him. You kept working his length inside of you until that knot in your stomach came undone. Creaming all over him as you came. You couldn't speak a full word, eyes rolled back as you rode out your orgasm. His muffled moans giving you goosebumps.
You collapsed onto his chest when your knees finally went weak, body twitching against his. “What did I tell you?” Though you were tired and shaky, that didn’t stop you from needing the last word. What you didn't know was, he could see that you felt big and bad. He could tell you thought you were in control, and he let you think that knowing he was going to knock you down a few pegs.
“You think I’m finished with you? Get up.” He helped you off of him, turning you to face the end of his bed towards the large mirror that leaned against the wall. “Hands and knees, baby.” Following his instructions, you pushed your back into a cute arch, the heart shape the curve of your ass made visible in the mirror.
You felt a sharp sting on your ass cheek, he had spanked you with a heavy hand, watching the way your ass bounced back. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, gripping the fat and jiggling it in his hands. His tip brushed against your weeping clit, gathering your arousal so you could take him easier.
When Jermajesty pushed in you swore you could feel it in your stomach. This angle drove him in deeper than before, pulling a guttural groan out of you when he was fully seated inside of you. “Taking me so fucking well, pretty girl.” His thrusts started shallow, not pulling out much, circling his hips and grinding into you.
His eye contact drove you crazy, the way he swiped his tongue over his lips before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. When your eyes finally connected with his in the mirror, he knew he had your attention, and took the opportunity to start fucking you how he should’ve as soon as you walked through his door.
His thrusts were unforgiving, pace unrelenting. His dark eyes bore into yours, head tilted to the left a bit while he admired how pretty you are when you struggle to take the dick he was aiming to put in your stomach.
Your speech had started to slur more than it was after all the shots you had taken. Your vision was blurry, having a hard time focusing your eyes. Nothing but moans and whines slipping from your swollen lips. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of your pussy engulfing him, wet slaps echoing throughout the house.
“Ain’t got nothing to say?” He had a smug look on his face, continuing to pull his dick out until just the tip was left before driving his hips into you.
“Fuck you- ahh fuck!” His hands pushed your back deeper into that pretty arch you held. This forced his dick deeper into you, touching your cervix. Nothing had ever been this deep inside of you before, the feeling foreign. Your hands gripped the sheets that covered his bed, wrinkling them.
Your jaw dropped, eyes scrunched closed. If he’s fucking you like this without knowing you a full 24 hours, imagine how nasty he would get when he was in love. This definitely made you want to find out. Dick hadn’t ever made you this delusional, never made you consider falling in love with a complete stranger.
You reached back, trying to push on his abdomen hoping he would slow down. “Too much. Oh my god, please Jermajesty.” He didn’t want to hear your pleading, even though you sounded so cute when you finally gave in to him.
“Mm-mm you said I couldn't handle it, remember? Just running those pretty lips because nobody’s put you in your place yet.” Little do you know, he’s planning on giving it to you all night.
He folded your arm against your back, stopping you from hindering his movement. Tears spilled from your eyes, toes curled tightly, while your juices splashed across his torso when he pulled out. When you could finally put together a coherent sentence, it amused him, a smiled tugging on his lips.
“Why are you fucking me like this?” Like you hadn't been talking cash shit all night with that egotistical smile and attitude.
“Because this is what you need. You been begging for it all night. Now hush and take your dick.” Him letting you claim his dick sent shocks through your body, clit twitching in excitement.
“Promise?” God, you could roll your eyes at yourself if they weren’t in the back of your head. This is pathetic, the whining and crying unlike your normal dominating, confident self. You always led in relationships and in the bedroom, a firm believer that you wouldn’t be disappointed you if you did it yourself. But one by one, Jermajesty had broke through every wall and defense you had put up, exposing a side of you that you were unfamiliar with.
Even though your question didn't make much sense, he understood, immediately reassuring you. “I promise, pretty girl. I’m all yours. All. Yours.” His thrusts matching his words, emphasizing his point. His mind was fuzzy, his only thought being you and how what position he could fold you in next. His next actions pulled your third orgasm of the night from your aching pussy. He wrapped his pinky around yours, still promising that his dick was yours for the keeping.
“Maj~”
“I know, angel. Give it to me.” Hopefully no one could hear you, or they’d definitely think something’s wrong in here. Your screams and gasps filling the room, doing your best to get away from his thrusts. Your orgasm never ending, it dripped down your thighs leaving a creamy stream of cum in its wake.
He didn’t let you run, stroking you until his thrusts stuttered, signaling his own orgasm. You were limp and shuddering by the time he pulled out, whimpers leaving your pouty lips. His nut landed across your dark skin, painting a nice contrasting picture on your juicy ass. His sexy groans made you clench around nothing, sensitive but still needy for him.
When he came back, your eyes were closed and your breathing started to slow, curled up like a cat at the end of his bed. This sight made his heart flutter, flustered that you could make him feel this way when you weren't together. You felt the warmth of his hands gently spreading your thighs, a warm towel in his hand cleaning up the mess between your thighs, before he moved to your backside to clean up his own mess.
He tossed the towel in his laundry basket across the room, then climbed into the bed next to you, dragging a pillow from the headboard to rest on. “C’mere baby. You know we’re not done right?” His warm hands coming to your face, stroking your cheek then placing a kiss where his thumb was. You peeked an eye open, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
You cuddled up to his chest, curling back up into the ball you were in before. You could feel him reach over you, then a fuzzy blanket covered your body, pulling you deeper into the dick induced sleep Jermajesty had put you in. Soothing arms wrapped around your waist, delicate kisses peppered onto your cheek and temple. This is exactly where you belonged, exactly where he wanted you to be.
He could get used to the smart mouthed pretty girl being in his bed.
y'all, I really be doing too much thinking and not enough writing but jaafar’s muscles and hands…
like just imagine sitting in his lap, your back pressed up against his chest—his right arm wrapped around your neck, his hand gripping your jaw with slight pressure, peppering kisses onto your face as his other hand plays with your wet pussy—his pointer and middle fingers plunged in and out of you at a medium speed, slightly curving to hit at your g-spot. you let out a loud moan as his thumb stimulated your clit, a small glob of creamy slick spilling onto his long, thick fingers. “look at you making a mess all over my fingers.”
or
just thinking bout him putting you into prone bone position—your front is pressed into the bed as his chest is flushed with your back, administering deep, slow strokes that made your pussy pulse around him. the pleasure became too much to handle as you attempted to push him away—he dropped more of his weight on your back, slithering his left arm around your neck, locking you into place. “I can’t let you run from me baby, you can take it.”
can you just imagine that big bicep wrapped around you… all i need is one night, JUST one🧎🏽♀️.
and, i may or may not have a nerdy roommate!jermajesty fic that’s being written🌚.
authors note: i accidentally deleted my request, but oh well. i've never been asked to do messages before & im still learning !! ( if there are any typos please, lmk! these were made between 1-2am, as u can see ) part 2: here
୧੭ JERMAJESTY JACKSON X READER TEXTS ִֶָ🪽་༘
warnings: possessive!jermajesty a dash of implied smut cussing
a little while later....
about thirty minutes after maj’s text, you heard a knock at your front door. turning off the stove, you made your way to the door. you tried looking through the peephole but to your surprise—it was being covered.
only maj would do some shit like that.
you rolled your eyes as you irritably unlocked and opened the front door. jermajesty pushed past you, tugging on the door knob to your linen closet, peeking inside as if he were searching for somebody. “where the fuck he at?”
you slammed your front door with a confused look upon your face. locking the door, you turned to face him and paced in his direction, “who? what the fuck are you talking about, jermajesty?”
“you got other niggas sending you money ’n shit. he must be here.” he stated confidently. all you could do was stand there, look at him, and try not to laugh. “nobody is here except for us, maj.” your voice softened slightly.
“who sent you $500, though? forreal.”
“nobody, baby. i was only messing around.” your statement caused jermajesty to roll his eyes and try his very best to suppress the grin he so badly wanted to show. closing the gap between you, jermajesty pulled you into his chest as a distraction as he leaned down to kiss you.
the kisses trailed down to your jaw, lower, to your neck—then your chest. before you knew it, it’d been a few hours later now you and jermajesty were both naked in your bed. you turned over to see that his gaze was already on you.
wanting to piss him off you began, “can i get my $500 now?”
jermajesty huffed before hesucked his teeth as he turned his body to face the wall. “man, fuck outta here.”
Summary: You are Michael’s long-time girlfriend. For the past couple of Years, Michael has bought a camera and hundreds of tapes and has recorded you. Here are just a few moment that were captured.
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June 17th of 1978
You were getting ready for an awards show, softly humming to yourself as you did touch-ups on your makeup. You heard the soft sounds of hurried footsteps coming down the hall. “Michael?” you called out, putting on your earrings. You were in the walk in closet so you couldn’t see him. “Micheal? honey? are you there?” you asked again stopping your motion, now raising brow. maybe this was a prank he was doing. You walked out of the closet.
“BOO!” he shouted. You jumped a gasp escaped you. He was laughing, covering his mouth as he held a shiny new toy. “Michael, that wasn’t funny!” you said playfully, slapping him and shaking your head. “What’s that?” you asked, crossing your hands. “It’s a camera! quincy gifted it to me after filming today; isn’t it cool?” he said excitedly, holding it up to his eye. You nodded your head. “Are you recording me right now?” you asked, raising a brow. He shyly smiled, and his cheeks turned red. “Maybeeee,” he said, moving it away slightly from his eye. You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Well, get dressed; we’re gonna be late!” you rushed. Michael groaned and turned off the camera, placing it on the bed before stepping into the closet.
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March 10th of 1980
You were in the living room. Sitting on window bed reading a book and sipping your coffee. After a couple minutes you feel as if you’re being watched. you peeked your head up looking around the living room. it seemed completely empty. you shook your head softly trying to shake the weird feeling. Till you heard a small noise from behind a large pillar. You peeked up again finally noticing the red beeping dot.
“Michael, what are you doing?” you question as he makes his way out from behind the pillar. “Sorry, you just look so pretty,” he said with a smile, making your cheeks turn pink as he walked closer, still holding the camera to his eye. “How long were you recording me?” you asked with a smile, closing your book. “5? 10? minutes” he answered, his shy little smile returning as he zoomed in and out on you from his above angle. “You’re such a stalker!” you said softly, hitting his thigh with your book. “Heyy! I can’t help it when you look so beautiful,” he mumbled, finally moving the camera away from his face, allowing you to place a soft kiss before shushing him off.
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February 28th 1984
Today was Grammy's day. You were getting all dolled up when Michael was taking videos on his camera about his outfit. (a fit check, you can say) “Mike? Can you fix my dress?” you asked. He set the camera down on a dresser. You felt his shake as he zipped up your dress. “Michael,” you giggled, turning to face him. “You are a wonderful, amazing, and gifted artist; you will win something, and if you don’t, that doesn’t make you any less successful,” you spoke warmly and comforting. Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and held your hands, bringing them up and kissing them softly. “You’re right, dear,” he mumbled.
You guys rushed out into the limo. He had his glasses in hand, and you… You had a camera in your purse. You sat next to Michael, holding his hand, running your thumb over his hand, trying to make him less anxious. Till…his name was called. Album of the Year, you took out the small camera and filmed him receiving his award. Then again for Record of the Year, then again, again, and again. Till he walked out with 8 Grammys and a huge smile on his face.
Back in the limo, he was so happy and was talking about the whole thing, just like he did to you countless times. You took out the camera and recorded. “You brought it?” he asked excitedly, trying to reach for it. “No, no, keep talking,” you said with a sly smile. He rolled his eyes playfully and went on talking about the night.
Till he stopped.
“Did you record me all night?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ll find out later,” you teased, earning a small chuckle.
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July 15th of 1986
You were in micheal’s home recording room. Looking through the records he has. “micheal?” “hm?” “Have you written any songs about me?” you asked with a smile. You knew he’s made several on OTW and Thriller but just wanted to hear it again. He chuckled fidgeting around with his new camera and tape.
“The whole Off The Wall album is about you,” he said, looking at you. You smiled, “Sounds about right.” You giggled. You turned back to find the OTW album, grabbed it, and took it out of the cover, placing it on the record player.
‘Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough’ started playing.
You giggle as you try to copy Michael’s signature dance movements. Failing at the moonwalk as he giggled. Like he always does, he pressed record on the camera and recorded you in awe. “Oh wow, babe, you’re a natural,” he cheered as he propped up the camera on the sound board. “But let me show you how a pro does it,” he teased.
The camera recorded, but by the time he remembered it was on, the tape was used up, and you guys had a laugh watching it back.
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I hope you enjoyed, and sorry I only focused on OTW and thriller Michael, lmk if you want a part to the next two eras of Michael!
𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓷 (drabble) - michael jackson x black female reader
synopsis: michael let you spend an ungodly amount of his money on pretty, frilly pieces from anywhere you wanted. the only contingency of this arrangement was that you had to model them for him. easy enough.
pairings: sugar daddy!michael (mature era) x sugar baby!blackfemalereader
content & warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI — smuuuut, pnp, explicit language, pleasure dom!michael, service dom!michael, ooc!michael, michael loves lingerie, bratty!reader, spoiled!reader, reader is black, age gap, use of "daddy, mama, love, princess" etc., groping and fondling, fingering, mentions of oral (f!receiving), mentions of p n v, praise kink, edging, ass smacking, female body inspection, free use
wc: 1.1k
an: is this even a drabble? chile anyways... i love big daddy and big bratty so bad, i keep thinking about how they got to how they were in worst behaviour soooo this drabble came to be. are you happy to be in paris? is still otw (trying to crank it out today buuut don't hold me to that cause they taking it slow rn and I wanna honor their laaauuuvve). for now - enjoy a lil insight into my fave chaotic couple in the bcu (bee's cinematic universe).
You had an obsession.
Specifically, a lingerie obsession. You had so many bras — lacy, sheer, balconette, demi, push up — and panties? There were so many… thongs, boyshorts, lacy, crotchless, barely there g-strings, cotton, lace, satin.
The inspiration to collect unique pieces came after your first sponsor gave you your first luxury gift from La Perla.
It was an absolutely beautiful set, something to admire.
The silk was lush, and the blush pink fabric contrasted romantically on your deep skin. The balconette cups hugged your bouncy breasts just right, nipples playing the most arousing game of peek-a-boo for whoever would have the pleasure of seeing. Handcrafted lace lined the sides and straps snug to your shoulders. The thong sat low on your waist, complementing the softness of your tummy while adding a little extra flare to how your wide hips curved at the sides of your body to your round, perky ass. Both were intricately embroidered with black roses, the mixture classic and coquette, but interesting, edgy, and breath-taking on you.
It made you feel beautiful. Made you more aware of your power, your femininity.
Michael immediately noticed how much you loved lingerie, as a connoisseur himself.
He let you spend an ungodly amount of his money on pretty, frilly pieces from anywhere you wanted. The only contingency of this arrangement was that you had to model them for him. Easy enough.
And when you did your first haul, he focused all his attention on you. Sat on the foot of the bed, amused, as you tried on every single piece. You blushed as Michael repeatedly told you how gorgeous you were, body adorned in some of the most amazing designs he ever saw in his life. You had impeccable taste. He particularly loved how your eyes lit up while you gushed, talking about how you lucked out in a sale or found a particularly elusive archival set, or about how high quality the material was. He really tried to ground himself. Ignore the feeling of his lap tightening. Ignore his desires. He wished you were closer, so much so that his hands twitched at his sides as he resisted the urge to touch you.
Being around you lately brought him back to another version of himself, one he thought was long gone.
“C’mere, princess.”
You were too wrapped up in your own excitement to notice the signs of his growing arousal. Michael paused for a beat as you stood between his open legs, his eyes darting around to take in the visual treat in front of him.
“You really like it, big daddy?”
“Love it. You’re stunnin’. I am curious about sumn’ though... does the material feel good, love? May I?” Michael’s eyes cut up to yours, running his thumbs over the purple embroidery against your nipples.
He had to know how tingly that made you feel, right?
“Mm, yes… it is very soft,” He mused, one of his hands lowering to feel the softness of your panties… His palm flattened against your mound, rubbing absentmindedly, fingers against the matching floral stitches above your clit, “these are wonderful quality. Such an amazing find, baby.”
He let you squirm for a moment against his touch before chuckling, planting a kiss on your hip and sending you off to try on another pair.
This was a game to him.
So you came out swinging. The red thong set you tried on next made him suck in a breath and groan. He had to get a closer look. You weren’t sure how it happened, but soon you were bent over the now obvious bulge in his lap so he could see the material better, doing quality control. His murmurs of admiration were soft, telling you about the origin of the rare fabric as he teasingly pulled the string between your cheeks, making your pussy pout and eventually spread.
And when you tried on the last set, it was the piest de resistance. He stood behind you in the mirror, kissing on your neck as his hand wrapped around you, thumb sliding rhythmically across the olive green silk between your legs.
“You know I love you in green, princess.” You moaned softly, sliding your trembling hand on top of his for more pressure until the silk had a visible wet patch right on the gusset, his thumb covered in your wetness.
Every try on session after that went left.
His lingerie inspections got more and more thorough, making you so wet that you soaked through every single pair. Sometimes you touched yourself in them, propping your leg up next to him on the bed as he watched intently. Sometimes he stuffed them in your open mouth as he fucked you from behind to enjoy your muffled moans, so good and deep it made you drool. He kept his favorites, admiring the slick seat and scent of you before putting them in his pocket all day for “good luck”. It stung that you never saw them again.
But he went too far one day and ripped a pair trying to get them off you. You scowled when he did it the first time, and your irritation amused him so much that he adopted it into a routine.
It made you so mad every time you heard that familiar tearing sound. But it was hard to stay mad when his apologies were mixed into the sounds of him slurping your pussy, or through his teeth as he served you deep strokes in missionary, the egregious evidence of his inability to control himself dangling off one of your legs.
Post-nut clarity would settle and you’d be mad all over again. Sure, he was the one buying them but there was no need to keep shredding such lovely garments into pieces just to touch you when you’d gladly take them off.
One time in particular, you voiced your frustrations directly.
“You need to set up a whole discretionary fund at this point to buy me new panties.”
“And why is that?” Michael asked in casual amusement. “I woulda thought I was successfully influencin’ you to stop wearin’ ‘em around me, instead of encouragin’ you to buy more.”
And there it was, his agenda.
You huffed. “But I like themmm… and these are really expensive, big daddy. Too much money for you to be clawin’ and shredding them to pieces.”
“I bought them, princess. I know how much they cost.”
“I have to repurchase the sets just to replace them.”
“And I have no problem with that….” You heard his sentence trail off, unfinished.
“- but you’re still going to rip them off me.”
He grinned, nodding. “If I feel like it, princess, yes. Anything else?”
You pouted and he stroked your cheek gingerly, kissing your temple in reply to successfully end his contribution to the conversation. Michael always found you extra cute when you pouted but he’d never tell you that. He had to maintain some mystery.
“Fix your face, unless you want me to fix it for you.”
taglist: @justalocallesbian, @narratedillusions, @enhasdihsucker, @blcknebula, @somenichegirl, @heeheeow, @someonessoulrecord, @fortuncooki, @baldmonkmonks, @darkgreengrl, @heubstr, @96kittii (please let me know if you'd like to be added or if i missed you!)
!warnings! ⚠; SMUT, MINORS GO AWAY! unprotected p in v (wrap ur willy), softdom-ish!Mike, fem!reader, descriptive sex, a little fluffy at the end, reader is obsessed with Michael's sex faces, creampie.
wc; 0.5k
a/n; hiii!! this is my first ever smut fic, so it isn't as amazing as i wish it was. i hope ya'll enjoy it! it is quite short ://
It's a peaceful, cloudy night. Except peaceful wasn't quite the word for it. Not inside your bedroom, it wasn't.
Grunts and moans circle through the room, thumping of the headboard against the wall, and the squeaking of the mattress.
You would say something about how loud you two were being, but not a single word could be formed as Michael ruts his cock deep inside you. And not to mention—how distracted you are by his facial expressions.
Every time he bottoms out, hips flush against your thighs that are wrapped around his waist, his eyebrows twitch. God—he looks unreal like this.
Throughout yours and Michael's relationship, every time you'd gotten intimate—you couldn't help but be fascinated by the faces he'd make. He'd either throw his head back with furrowed brows, or have his eyes locked onto every inch of you with his lower lip trapped between his pearly whites as he thrusted his dick so deep you were sure you could feel him in your gut.
But there was something about tonight—something about the way he looked that you couldn't take your eyes off.
You fight your fluttering eyes as his cockhead brushes that spongey spot far inside of your dripping pussy, needing to see every flicker of his brows, flutter of his lashes, or even if he swallows a certain way.
His hips stutter as your walls flutter around his length, his eyes rolling back. "S–shit.. so tight, mama.." he groans—your own moans harmonising with his in a filthy melody.
You feel the pressure in your lower belly tighten even more into an impossible knot, tingling heat blossoming from your toes, all the way up the length of your spine. Your eyes roll back as the upcoming orgasm becomes unbearable.
"M–Mike, m'gonna come–" you gasp, thighs trembling against his hips.
"Yeah? Come for me, baby. Need to t'feel you fall apart." He pants out, his own peak nearing. He speeds up with thrusts, and thats what does it.
"Mm– im co–coming!" You cry out, the knot snapping, sending shockwaves towards every nerve ending in your body. You choke on a moan as he reaches down to draw figure-eights on your swollen clit, your back arching into his chest.
He whimpers as your pussy clamps down onto his cock, his own orgasm threatening to wash over him. "Im close– fuck, im close.." he whines airily into your ear, rutting his hips desperately into yours.
Your eyes snap open instantly, gaze locking onto his face. His eyes are screwed shut, mouth dropped open slightly, brows pinched together. Delicious you cant help but think.
His orgasm finally crashes down onto him. Thrusting once, twice, before locking his hips against yours—moans and whimpers leaving him as he spills deep into your poor cunt.
When his own orgasm finally subsides, he relaxes against you. His eyes flutter open, finding yours.
He laughs softly at how fixed your gaze is on his face, leaning forward to press his lips softly against the spot between your eyes.
"You're cute." He whispers, his hand running up and down your side soothingly.
Your heart swells at his words, a smile curling your swollen lips. "I could say the same thing."
He mirrors your smile as he gently lifts his weight off of you.
Here it was, the big night of the century in Mississippi —the Juke Joint, hosted by..The Jacksons. All this dancing and drinking had you a bit loose, and this was your third bathroom break of the night. Crazy right?
Jackie, whose job was to guard the door, chewing on a toothpick, stared at you walking up to the door. Your kitten heels were clacking as you got closer to him. He eyed you up and down before he stood up in front of the door.
"Yo, where you think you goin'? Once again?" Jackie came close to you, inhaling the whiskey on your warm breath as he tilted his head. You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to push him out of the way, but he barely budged.
"Move, I gotta go pee," you whined, dragging your hand down his suit. Jackie followed your hand with his eyes as it dragged against him, looking a bit jocular. "Make it quick—I'm not bout' to keep watching over you, woman," You laughed a bit at his response before you slid passed him.
"Mmm, ya bet," you said, with your finger still lingering against Jackie's chest as you smiled back at him. He knew you were a bit tipsy, so he would watch you walk away from the club, swaying your hips in your silky dress.
Staring back at him as you slowly disappeared into the dark by the bushes.
"This girl, man," Jackie shook his head as he laughed when he sat back down on his stool.
You ducked down by a bush, pulling up your dress and squatting.
A soft breeze brushing against your face from the winds, releasing some pressure from how long you’ve been holding this in.
Bushes behind you sounded like they were being moved and someone was trying to fight through him.
Whispers felt like they were close, directly in your ear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” the mysterious voice cooed.
“what?—hello?” you answered back, trying to keep quiet but at the same time freaking out.
Music and stomping feet filled the club with so much joy, as everyone danced, sweat dripping down the sides of their foreheads and hair sweating out. And the sweet smell of whiskeys and beers—roamed the musky air like a thick fog settling over a swamp.
Marlon, who was smoking a cig with his close one in age—Michael.
They both leaned against a wooden pillar, watching over the party while Tito watched from upstairs, also eyeing a couple fine ladies.
“Where’d miss..tootsie go?” Marlon asked with his tongue in his cheek to hide a smile, nudging on Michael’s right arm .
“She been drinkin’ since she got hea, I don’t know,” Michael acknowledged as he shrugged. “You don’t care?” Marlon crossed his arms when he leaned his head more forward to get a better look at Michael underneath his hat.
“Nah, I care—m’just tryna watch over my people,” Michael removed the cigarette from his lips as he slowly turned his head towards his brother with a smirk. Marlon just smiled and nodded and glanced elsewhere towards the crowd who was humming along to the music and instruments on stage.
As Marlon got a fair glance over at what was happen before him, he turned back towards Michael—as when he thought that Michael was still standing here. He was gone, leaving behind a hint of his signature scent.
“Michael..?” Marlon called out, looking behind the pillar.
Your bathroom break was finally over, you felt yourself walking more straighter than usual, and with more of a—strut.
Jackie’s head shot up once he heard footsteps become more prominent by the second; his leg stretched across the entrance as his head was rested against the wooden wall.
“Oh, hey! You’re back.” Jackie announced. He could see a hunger in your eyes, but couldn’t quite make it out. Your hands were elegantly resting in front of you as you stared at Jackie, his neck, and then back at his eyes.
“You’re gonna let me in—or are you gonna keep your leg right there?” You said with your head tilted, teasingly. “Yes ma’am, my apologizes.” He immediately moved his leg and put his hands up in surrender. “That’s what I thought,” you snapped back underneath your breath as you cat-walked passed him.
A laugh was being heard from the bar as you peeked around to see who it was. The gentlemen, Michael jackson, who was known for his wonderful vocals and sweet spirit.
You stopped in your tracks as you gave yourself the time to remember his figure. Brown suit, brown slacks, and of course his shoes, can’t forget the shoes. His white socks with red and brown leather shoes. Your breath hitched a bit, you met him before—but the more you were around him, the way you could smell him from here, turned you on even more.
Confidence was taking over your body as you walked towards him, adjusting your hair in the process. “Michael?” You cooed. Michael slowly turned around at his name being questioned by such a doting voice, and there you were, glistening under the warm tone of the lights. “Mm, well hello,” Michael couldn’t hold back the smirk that was fighting to be expressed.
“Hi, whatcha drinkin’?” You said as you settled yourself down on the stool next to him, staring at the details of the deep arch in his hat being shown from the light.
“Oh, this isn’t mines, I’m watchin’ someone’s drink. You?” He now turned his body to fully face you, taking in the view. You were a bit dazed at how badly you were craving him right now, even the thought of him between your teeth was enough to arouse you.
“I’ve had enough for the night,” you joked around with a little giggle as you glided your hand down in his thigh.
Michael was the easiest Jackson out of the five that was there, and additionally you wanted him badly and knew a way with your words—so this wouldn’t be a difficult task.
“Can I just-” You reached over for the glass. Slowly pushing up against Michael as you stretched across him. “Wait,” he grabbed onto your wrist as his fingers brushed against your jewelry. You turned your head, moving the hair out of your face while now staring deadly into his eyes. That look gave you meant business and you wanted it handled now.
He immediately removed his hand off your wrist and you continued moving the drink away from his, handing it to the lady who was helping with drinks. “Thank you..” you said holding eye contact with her and then back at Michael, who looked amused at your seriousness and who clearly found your lips amusing too.
You went in for it, back arching in his lap, kissing him on his lips, letting a soft moan escape him. He pulled back, now giving both of your eyes their undivided attention as a smirk slowly formed on his face. Your finger trailed against his jawline, stroking it until your finger got to his chin and then hovered over his lip.
The way this feeling was taking over your body was crazy, Michael could feel himself growing at the way you touched him so softly and how you stared at him with such hunger.
He got up from his stool, still looking a bit dazed, and offered your hand. You immediately took the invite and followed him into a room with shelves and a rug.
You locked the door behind you smirking, and then dropped it once you turned around to him, once you got him alone—finally.
Michael watched you as you locked the door, taking off his suit jacket. “Y’know I love you, right?” you asked as you took off your heels while walking towards him. Michael raised an eyebrow, confused on how you have such a strong feeling when you two just met. “I just wanna—touch you, taste you, in all kinds of ways, Mikey..” you caressed the back of his neck as you whispered into his ear, licking and nibbling at it.
The way your voice sounded, so starved, but yet demanding—sent chills down his spine. “M-me too,” his breath hitched, as he has never been around a woman such as you, with this much tenderness but control. You laughed at how pussy whipped you had him and you haven’t even put anything on him yet, but the submissive actions coming from him caused an aching sensation between your legs.
You moaned at the way he folded so quickly. “Lay,” you demanded, pointing towards the floor. He took off his hat and sat it next to his jacket that was laying next to him. He watched you lower down on his crotch as his lip was caught in his teeth.
Soon as you lowered down on him, his hands flew to grasp onto your waist. His finger tips dug into the plush of your hips and then slowly gravitated to your ass. You could feel your mouth getting watery as drool slowly escapes your mouth when you stared at his abdomen and on his lips. “Mama, you droolin’,” he stared at the drool that was connected to your lips.
“Y’wanna taste?” You cooed as you got closer to his face. He nodded and collected the drool on his fingers, stuffing them in your mouth.
Tito and Marlon were scoping the party, keeping an eye on people, trying to make sure nothing bad was happening. Then there it was—the trouble. Two men were fighting over a game, and one stole the other man's knife.
"HEY—cut that out!" Tito yelled, and the whole room went silent. The two men froze and immediately backed off from each other. "Oh, so y'all fighting in our establishment?" Marlon and Tito both grabbed for their guns, and they looked around to see how much of a mess the men had made.
"No, sir," one man said, scared and shaking his head while being out of breath. "So, the fuck is y'all doin'?" Marlon cursed, furrowing his eyebrows. They both looked at each other before they both spoke.
"He stole my knife!" "He tried stabbing me for being a punk ass bitch!" The men argued. Tito tilted his head as he tried to listen to both while tucking his lips. "Get the knife from em," Tito ordered Marlon. The man who held the knife held it up like he was trying to fight Marlon for attempting to grab it from him.
"Try it, and I'll shoot ya'," Tito announced as he held the gun up to get ready to shoot fire. Marlon tripped him as he pulled off his leg trip takedown, and instantly grabbed the knife for him. "Keep trying me, and y'all asses gon' be kicked out," Marlon said as he backed up with the knife and shoved it in his pocket. "You'll get this back once you leave," Tito added.
“Have y'all seen Michael?” Randy interrupted. Marlon turned his neck quickly. “he’s been gone for twenty minutes,” Randy adds on, looking around. “Oh my goodness, move, boy.” Marlon snapped back and Tito followed behind him.
They walked around the place, separating while their hands were on their gun for easy access. Randy who was by the room that you and Michael were in heard a noise. You didn’t mind being loud since music was blasting through the place and no one was worried about that part of the club.
Pornographic moans were leaving your mouth as you bounced on his dick, as he was constantly kissing your cervix like no other. “Oh, fuck—” you panted, groping onto one of your boobs. Michael went in for a kiss to muffle both of your whimpers as he bucked his hips into you to chase his climax.
“Y’feel—so so good,” Michael whined as he pulled away from the kiss. You were getting closer alongside him and couldn’t help yourself—he was now in a very vulnerable place and you took this as a chance to scan his neck and Adam’s apple fully when he threw his head back.
As your fingers moved his head to the side to let you get a good look at his neck, his prominent and juicy veins showed through his neck. Your fangs fuller form as you mouth was now salivating more than usual, you licked the spot you were targeting to bite and numbed it. “Mikeyyy” was the last thing he heard, as you cooed, the way you said it still buzzing through his ear.
“Michael!?” Randy banged on the door using his two fists. All he heard was soft cries and whimpering—of pain or pure ecstasy?
“Aah!” Came out of Michael’s mouth as his fingers dug deep into your waist, attempting to pull you off.
“Marlon! Tito!” Randy yelled for his brothers as they came rushing to the scene. “He's in there,” Randy pointed to the door and backed up. “Michael! Open the damn door!” Tito ordered as he fully pulled his gun out of his pants and put it to the side of him.
No answer.
“Michael!” Marlon yelled for him.
No. Answer.
They all attempted to break down the door as it started to bend inward.
You stopped riding him as you nibbled at his neck as he slowly began to lose blood. Blood was staining your fangs, dripping now onto your chin, your collarbone, and then onto your dark brown dress.
The door finally caved in as the three men stared at your back as they slowly approached. Your eyes were glowing with a red tint as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hands, silk press all messy and covered with blood across your face. Your chest was heaving from the adrenaline of sucking and eating away at Michael.
You rose to your feet, giving his brother a full view of his body. He was back dressed but was holding his neck as he tried to say something. “What the fuck?” Marlon snapped, as he raised his gun and released fire directly at you. You ran out of the room screaming, hauling ass outside.
“They’re coming!” You yelled as you ran out.
Marlon ran to Michael, immediately falling to his knees. “Michael!” Marlon cried out as he picked Michael’s head up into his lap, trying to apply pressure to his neck. “M-Marlon—she- she-,” Michael tried to say but started choking on his blood.
All of them were on the ground next to him watching him take his last breath. Their eyes widen as Michael went limp, Jackie looked more confused than hurt. His eyebrows furrowed as he was deep in thought still with his brother’s blood on his hands.
“She bit him! That soul-sucking ass bitch was a vampire!” Jackie yelled out as he stared at the spot you bit him in.
“Lets go—let's go, now!” Jackie ordered, gathering all his brothers and leaving the room. But Marlon still couldn't register that his brother was really gone, right in front of him. “Marlon, please.” Jackie came back to grab Marlon by his arm as he was fighting back his second round of tears.
“Someone lock the door before he turns!” Randy insisted. Tito locked the door with a key and slowly backed up.
“What should we do?” Randy asked as he started to shake. They all looked at each other, dumbfounded, not sure what to do. “Maybe—grab some garlic or sum’?” Marlon asked.
As soon as Tito went to grab some garlic from the bar, there was a knock on the door—the room where Michael was pronounced dead.
Everyone froze as they looked toward the door, and they heard a soft but heavy voice come from behind the door. Tito put his head to the door to make sure he wasn't going crazy.
Then a big knife came through the wooden door and was instantly pulled back. Tito gasped as his back met the wooden wall behind him, in shock. “Marlon!” a voice called for Marlon. He took a deep breath and got his gun ready as he approached the door.
“Michael? That’s you?” Marlon asked as his voice shook as he peeped through the hole that was made from Michael’s knife.
“Who else would it be? Now let me out.” The voice sounded just like Michael, his brother could see his smile, nice and clean, through the hole. That little mustache of his was sitting pretty on top of his top lip as his fangs started to show.
Marlon looked back at his brother before he said anything else.
“T-that ain’t Michael, Marlon.” Jermaine stuttered as his chest started to heave.
“Oh my goodness,” Jackie immediately broke down in tears once again.
“You doin’ alright?” Marlon turned back towards the door while still peeking into the hole.
“Yeah, I’m alright. Now let me out, please,” Michael said as he went to pick up his hat.
“Y’sure? You lost a lotta blood..” Marlon questioned.
Michael grew angrier as more questions were being asked, and he wasn’t being let out. “Stop asking me all these questions and let me out, man.” Michael began banging on the door.
He began pushing the door with his shoulder, hard and using all his strength. "Michael, stop!" Tito yelled out of fear.
The room went silent as the bangs echoed off the walls.
Then there Michael was, built up all his vampire strength, backing up from the door, and he came busting through.
And he ran out of the club into the complete darkness as his brothers watched him disappear.
thinking about how jermajesty reacted when he made you squirt for the first time.
tw: smut (18+), jermajesty being a munch, oral (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation.
Author’s Note: my man posted, enjoy. excuse any mistakes!
This content does NOT contain AI and may not be used to train AI.
Hotboxing in Jermajesty’s car was nothing new, it was a regular occurrence—just like how it’s a regular occurrence of Jermajesty having you in the backseat being borderline cock-drunk. But on this particular night, you were drunk off his fingers.
Your leggings and panties were discarded somewhere in the front, you were in the backseat, back laid on the cool leather seats—your legs pushed to your shoulders as Jermajesty lapped at your sopping wet pussy like he was a madman. The car was filled with wet squelches, your unrecognizable babbles, and Jermajesty’s muffled groans.
By now, your chest is heaving like you ran a marathon—your body coated in a film of sweat, your legs shaking uncontrollably, and your eyes constantly rolling back.
“Maj—fuckk, slow down. Please.” Your words jumbled together, right hand trying to push his head away. Jermajesty finally lifted his head from between your legs—lips and the tip of his nose drenched from your slick. “Come on mama, you can take it.” He licked his lips as he dove back in to eat your pussy. He lapped his tongue around your clit. The sensation sent tingles up your spine, feeling your slick drip down, creating a small puddle on the seats.
A loud squeal sounded off in the car as his two fingers slid deeply inside you, curling them at the perfect angle. “Maj, oh my goshhhh.” You babbled out as a euphoric sensation trickled through your body. Jermajesty moves his fingers at a steady pace as he picks up the pace with his tongue, lapping and licking at your pussy as if this is his last time living.
You could feel Jermajesty moving—you forced your eyes to look down, just for you to see his hips absentmindedly rutted into the seats—the thought of him cumming just off of giving you head made a slight whimper slip through your lips.
Jermajesty hollowed his cheeks as he sucked at your clit harshly and angled his fingers deeper into you—his unexpected movement sent a rush of heat through you as your orgasm rushed through you, causing your legs to fall on his shoulders, leaving your toes curled tight. Your mouth slacked open as a silent moan fell.
You expected him to ease up for you to recover—but you were so wrong; Jermajesty didn’t even slow down his speed, in fact, it felt like he increased his speed just a tad, sending your body into a frenzy.
A loud yelp ripped through your throat as the pleasure became too much to bear. “Baby, please—slow down, it’s too much.” Your words slurred together, as your legs trembled harshly. Jermajesty dug his face deeper in your pussy, he was completely pussy drunk—small whimpers fell out of his mouth like a waterfall, his eyes rolling back at your taste, and the lower half of his face, along with his arm, was drenched in your juices.
The pressure within you kept growling stronger—heavier, becoming harder to control. Your walls clench around his fingers, slick pouring out constantly. You can barely breathe, as you can only let out short, staccato gasps. “Baby—fuckkk, I think—“ Your words got cut short as Jermajesty’s fingers pounded at that spot inside you.
That pressure within your stomach finally snapped, you let out a scream that filled the car, and the area around you—your body locked up, eyes harshly rolling back as a harsh gush flooded out of you, drenching Jermajesty. His eyes rolled completely back at you drenching him—he kept lapping at you as you came down from your high, never missing a single drop.
When you came to, your body shivering violently, your bottom half soaked with your slick—you could hardly catch your breath. But you were able to reach your hand into Jermajesty’s damp curls, pulling him up—his cheeks flushed with slight embarrassment. “Are you alright baby?” You breathlessly asked. He paused for a moment; “I came in my pants, baby.” He said shyly. “Aww, it’s okay, maj.” You cooed at him.
Silence filled the car for all of ten seconds before Jermajesty’s voice cut through.
“You squirting on me like that was sexy—when we get to the house, you gone do that shit on my dick.”
well🌚
all likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated🤎.
Synopsis: Reader welcomes Jackie back home with a romantic night of love-making.
Warnings: nsfw 18+, brief oral sex (male receiving), not quite sub!jackie but light begging
Word count: 1328
Jackie had a late flight, but you knew he’d be home sometime tonight. Earlier, you had left a message for Jackie, telling him to come to your place tonight.
You knew you did not really have to, it was commonplace for Jackie to come unlock your door late at night—with the key you gave him— after a long trip and crawl into your bed exhaustedly.
But you wanted it to be clear you’d be waiting up for him tonight, which signified to Jackie that he should expect something a little more special. The two of you had not had much time together lately, and Jackie had been under more stress than usual.
You wanted him to come home to a romantic, soothing night to help him reset a little. You put on a pretty pink gown you purchased from the catalog.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you recalled the catalog slogan. “Meant to be seen in, and appreciated.” The catalog read. After seeing yourself in it, you knew Jackie needed to see it and he would indeed appreciate it.
To top it off, you sprayed yourself in Jackie’s favorite scent you owned, in preparation for his arrival.
Just as you started to worry that it might be a little too late for a night of love-making by the time Jackie arrived, you heard a key jingling at your front door.
You lit the candle on your nightstand, as you heard Jackie fumble around downstairs in the dark. Every movement you heard made your heartbeat grow in anticipation—him kicking his shoes off at your door, placing his jacket on the coat rack, and dropping his keys on the kitchen counter.
Jackie’s footsteps echoed in the corridor leading to your room, causing your heart to pound like a drum. Finally the doorknob turned, and standing there was his tall figure in the door frame with a tired smile on his face.
“Hey baby.” He said as he sat his bag down, not taking his eyes off of you. “Hey.” You sat up on your knees on the bed as he approached.
He stood by the bed, meeting your lips in a sweet peck before rubbing your waist lovingly. You laughed at the ticklish feeling as he nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in how good you smelled before planting another soft kiss on your lips.
“So Sexy.” Jackie said as he took in your beauty, licking his lips. Finally, he gave you an endearing little boop on the tip of your nose.
You giggled softly and pulled him back in for a longer kiss holding the collar of his shirt in both your hands.
Just as the kiss grew passionate and hungry, you beckoned him to sit on the bed so that you could straddle him. Once you were on his lap, you began unbuttoning his shirt. The two of you shared a lingering gaze, Jackie’s eyes low and loving, communicating that he was already quite pleased with your efforts.
The flickering light of the candle continuously danced on your faces, causing a contour that highlighted the sexiness of his features and now, his muscular torso.
You pushed him to lie down, running your hands up his stomach and chest, feeling his bulge grow underneath you. The contact between his stiffened denim crotch and your soft, lacy panties urged you to rock ever so slightly, which earned a soft, low hum from Jackie.
Rocking your hips in a slow tease, you felt him continuously tense up in strong desire, until he simply couldn’t take it anymore.
“Take it out.” Jackie ordered. He rubbed your bottom underneath your gown, his fingers grazing the lace of your panties fighting the urge to just rip them off of you.
Right away, you kissed down his chest until you reached his belt buckle. By the time you were on your knees, Jackie sat up just enough to see you sitting between his legs. A sight that made him almost tingle in impatience.
You finally followed his orders, unbuckling his belt in a hurried jangle, followed by the riff of his blue jean zipper, which all felt like music to his ears. His erect member fought against the resistance of his briefs and pants as you slid them down hungrily.
At last, it sprung up, the tip dripping in precum. The visual excited you, recognizing how badly he wanted to be inside you. Without pause, you licked the clear substance, looking him in his eyes as a lustful hiss escaped his teeth. As you tasted his arousal, your hands lightly caressed the base of his dick.
“Baby please.” He pleaded. He hated to beg, but he could no longer wait for the warmth of your pussy wrapped around him, it had been far too long and the sight of you in this dress was causing him to ache for you.
A proud smirk became plastered on your face, knowing that you’d brought him to a plea. Your fingers temptingly grazed the sides of his legs as you stood up like a Grecian statue draped in cloth. You slowly slid your panties down, holding eye contact with him in a way that was assertive, sure, and confident.
Once your panties hit the floor, he pulled you on top of him like clockwork. “Why must you tease me so?” He asked. You laughed softly at his haste, “I’m in no rush,”you said as you slowly sat on his dick. You felt yourself stretching with each inch descending into you, which felt almost medicinal to the ache in your core.
Jackie made sure you lowered your body completely with all of him inside you, wanting to be engulfed by your wetness. He placed his hands back on the cup of your ass guiding you to rock your hips in the perfect motion. “Just like that pretty girl.” He nodded in approval as you continued by yourself.
He watched you in a trance, completely enamored by both your beauty and the way you rolled your hips.
His hands journeyed up your hips and stomach until he reached your chest. Once there, he circled your nipples with both thumbs, causing your pussy to become slicker around his dick.
You gasped as you felt his shaft begin to create an irresistible friction inside you. The gasp formed into a sexy whine that let Jackie know you’d found the perfect rhythm. He quickly positioned one of his hands down low to thumb your clit as you rolled your hips.
You let out another quickened breath as Jackie’s thumb met your bud. You cried out as he circled your clit and his length stimulated you endlessly, like a timeless concerto. He moaned along with you, caressing one of your legs with his hand that had been previously stimulating your nipple.
He began planting kisses all over your body like he’d never get the chance to again, as your nails lightly dug into his shoulders. “Jackie…” You mewled into his ear as you felt your orgasm building up to slowly erupt. You reached your orgasm, letting out a passionate, emphatic “Yes!”
“There you go baby.” He praised you, gripping your ass as you rode out your orgasm.
As you slowed down, he rolled your gown up pulling it off of you hastily. Once you were bare, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your hands above your head with your fingers interlocked. Without pause, he thrusted back into you causing you to whimper.
His hips rolled into you passionately like a calm sea, as he kissed your body all over again. You cried out, gripping his hands tighter as he overwhelmed all of your senses. You felt yourself beginning to come again as he rocked in and out of you relentlessly, leaving you speechless.
You whined incoherently and breathlessly as Jackie’s thrusts grew sloppier. Your fingers began to loosen the grip between his as you felt yourself coming completely undone.
The room began to fill with the squelchy sounds of him thrusting your wet warmth as it gripped him tightly. You felt dizzy almost as he planted wet kisses on the side of your face, his strokes becoming slower and deeper.
His big rough hands gripped yours tightly as he delivered one final histrionic thrust into you, making the sweetest, yet masculine noises in your ear—letting you know he’d released. Exhaustedly and ever so slightly, his hips rolled around drawing sloppy circles, as he rode out the intense climax he’d come to inside you.
He collapsed next to you, bringing this sensual orchestra to a halt.
“I thought you’d be too tired for this.” You said as you blew the candle out before lying on his chest. “Never too tired for my baby.” He rubbed your back beginning to doze off already.
ℋate was a strong word, but how you felt towards that man was stronger.
He always looked at you funny, always telling you what to do. His eyes would linger a little too long, making your skin crawl before he'd bark another order at you. You did what he asked, strictly to avoid confrontation. You would run down to the cheap liquor store downtown and pick up some more cigars and alcohol. Jim Beam. Old Crow. Whatever was cheapest that week. You never argued with him. You'd learned a long time ago that talking back only made things worse. He got violent, and you knew better than to test his temper.
You never breathed a word of it to your boyfriend Jackie. Never told him about the small bruises you hid beneath long sleeves and collars, not about the way your stomach twisted every time you heard his truck pull into the driveway.
Jackie would ask you, repeatedly, hearing how much you complained about him, but you never explained it to him.
You'd always find a way around the question. A small smile, a quick "I'm fine," anything to keep him from looking too closely. Because you knew Jackie. He had a good heart, and if he knew what was really happening, all hell would break loose probably.
And the last thing you wanted was for your problems to become his.
One day you were waiting for him, he was about to perform with his brothers, The Jacksons. You leaned against the wall, quietly watching everyone rush around while Jackie finished getting ready. A few moments later, he walked over in his outfit and handed you a cold soda.
His eyes looked over you before he spoke, "You been lookin' tired lately," he said, studying your face. You shrugged, forcing a small smile. "I'm alright, I promise."
Jackie gave you a look, something was on his mind, he wasn't sure if he should ask but he did. He just wanted to know, he got tired of pondering. "Baby can I ask you something?" he asks you quietly leaning against a wall. You nodded to him, taking a small sip from the can, it felt cold against your fingertips.
"…Why you still lettin' him stay there?"
The question caught you off guard, you stopped yourself from taking another sip, based off how much you told Jackie, that question was fair.
Jackie shook his head lightly, "I mean, if he don't work, don't help pay no bills… why not just put him out?"
You laughed quietly at the question, there wasn't anything funny except that you asked yourself that same question, time and time again.
"If only it was that easy," you sighed.
Your fingers played with the tab on your soda can as you stared at the floor, you then told him a bit.
"Mama's been in the hospital for almost three weeks now. The doctors say she should be home soon. They just wanna keep an eye on her a little longer" you said the first part, letting the situation settle. Jackie's expression softened as he leaned in to listen.
"Trust...I thought about putting him out, many times. But if he comes back mad..." You swallowed. "My mama's the one that'll have to deal with him while I'm at work, and I couldn't do that to her."
You then glanced up, "So… I started saving. Every paycheck. Every little extra dollar I had. I figured if I kept working, kept saving… I'd have enough to get me and Mama a little apartment somewhere."
A small smile tugged at your lips, but it didn't last, "Hospital bills ain't cheap, though. It's taking longer than I thought."
Jackie didn't say anything, he was still trying to process everything you'd just told him and for once, you just needed to talk.
"I ain't tell her how bad it's gotten," you admitted quietly. "Every time I go see her, I tell her everything's alright. I don't need her sittin' in that hospital bed worried 'bout me when she need to be gettin' better."
You forced another little smile, "...I just needed a little more time."
Now, you were exhausted. You've just gotten off work at your high school. You graduated a while back, but you still had a love for the school. So naturally, you became a guidance counselor. You spent your mornings and afternoons helping younger students fill out job applications, write résumés, and figure out what came after graduation. Some of them had dreams bigger than the town they grew up in, and you liked being the one to tell them they could make it. It was the one part of your day that made you feel useful.
No matter how bad things were at home, you always greeted those kids and your coworkers with warm smiles. They never knew the truth, that the girl encouraging everyone else to chase a better life dreaded going back to her own.
All in all you had a plan, one thing on your mind, leaving. But leaving wasn't as easy as packing a suitcase and walking out the door. Your mom was still lying in that hospital bed, no matter how much anger you carried toward the man who made your home unbearable, you couldn't bring yourself to leave her behind.
So you stayed, you took it.
By the time you reached the front porch, your warm smile had faded. You eased the front door open, already bracing yourself for the worst. The familiar smell hit you first, cheap cigars, stale whiskey, and a house that hadn't felt like a home in years. You looked over the area, you hardly recognized it. The plant your mamma watered every two days was now a dim brown, it's leaves crinkled from the lack of attention. You walked pass the cross hanging on the decorated wall, but it didn't make the place feel any holier, it just sat there quiet, crooked, and yet you still hoped for better.
Your nose scrunched as a sudden cough caught in your throat.
"Cover your damn mouth," your stepdad snapped walking out from the cut of the hallway.
You glanced up just long enough to see him shuffle into the light. There he was, looking like a drunk old fool. His wrinkled flannel hung half-buttoned, stubble covered his jaw, and the stale smell of whiskey seemed to follow him wherever he went. He looked like he'd been drinking since the sun came up.
You didn't bother greeting him or anything. There wasn't any point. Instead, you set the paper grocery bags on the counter and started putting away canned goods and a loaf of bread.
"Groceries?" he muttered, making his way over. "Where the hell'd you get the money for all this?"
"I have a job," you answered flatly, not even looking at him.
He let out a dry scoff. "How much he pay you for?"
Your jaw tightened, he said it as if the only way you could have money was if somebody had you in an act. You were ready to say something, but you held your tongue. Before you could move the next bag, he shoved past you, nearly knocking your shoulder into the counter as he started digging through it with both hands.
You already knew what he was looking for.
"There ain't no liquor in there," you said, your voice calm despite the knot tightening in your stomach. "I bought food."
His rough hands stopped for a second. Then he looked up at you, disappointment quickly hardening into a burning irritation. "You bout just as helpful as a low down whore."
You took in a deep breath and ignored him. He scoffed as he watched you put up the groceries. You felt his stare, just cold, not even your jacket could shield away his hateful spirit.
"I don't know why you still at that school," he muttered. "You need to get a real job."
Funny, you thought. The fifty something year old man squatting in your home had the nerve to tell you to get a real job. What you did was a real job, Lord knows his ass probaly didn't even know what a homophone was. Yet, he had the nerve to act like he knew everything.
As you put up cans of food you spoke, "It would be nice if you could help," was all you said.
His face twisted up, "I do help. I take care of the home and your mother while you run off with that little boyfriend of yours."
"Jackie has nothing to do with this," you muttered back. Unlike him, Jackie actually cared about your well being, and helped you when you needed it. All your stepdad did was sit in the same spot on that old couch with a bottle in his hand, while you handled everything else. You were the one working. You were the one trying to keep things together. You were the one visiting your mother at the hospital and worrying about bills.
And yet someway, somehow, he always found a way to make you feel like you were the problem.
"Do you even know when the light bill is due?" you tried to keep your irritation to a minimum.
"It's the 15th ain't it? I told Clarissa."
You made a face, 'Clarissa?'
That same name that seemed to come up every few nights when he'd disappear for a little too long or come home smelling more boozes and a cheap perfume. You didn't dig deep into it, he already told on himself.
You just looked at him before letting out a quiet scoff, "No, it's not. It's the 10th," you corrected.
"You'd know that if you actually checked the mail instead of digging through it looking for some new magazine. You better be glad I paid it or else we'd be sitting in the dark," you muttered the last part under your breath, but not quietly enough.
He turned his head slow at you, "What'd you say?" he said, his eye cocked at you.
You felt an argument coming on, but you couldn't hold your tongue any longer. It got to a point where you were tired of being quiet.
"I said if it wasn't for me, we'd be sitting in the damn dark!" Your voice echoed through the room.
"You hear that?" you questioned him.
You then started rounding up all the bags, "You tell me get a real job but you sit your ass in my momma's house all day doing absolutely nothing, letting everything fall on everybody else."
"You don't pay nothing, you don't clean nothin, you don't help with a damn thing," you say angrily as you listed out your frustration on your fingers. "Just lay there on your ass."
"The least you could do is wash some dishes, pick up after yourself, or try to help with these bills. But no, you'd rather sit on that couch with a bottle in your hand, drinking your life away like that's gonna fix something."
You pointed toward the liquor sitting nearby.
"That's all you care about. Your boozes and liquor, you walk around here acting like you're some kind of man, but you ain't done a damn thing to prove it. You're grown as hell, living off my momma and me, and you still have the nerve to talk down to me? Telling me I need a real job when I'm the one keeping this house together? Talking about you help? With what?"
You then laughed bitterly, all the anger you kept inside finally started to pour out. "It's like you don't even care! Just selfish, bitter and an old bastard who does nothing but make everybody around him miserable. I don't know what my momma saw in you, but its nothing but a lie."
You stood there in the kitchen, beyond pissed at his lack of help, his lack of care. You couldn't take this anymore. While you were physically mad and tired, he stood there, and then, he laughed. The sound of his laugh made your flesh crawl, how could he just laugh at something like this?
He stared at you, almost like he couldn't believe you had finally said it. "Look at you," he said quietly. "Got a little job and suddenly you think you're better than me?"
His crooked smile faded as he walked closer, "You be forgetting who you're talking to, after everything I've done for you and your momma, this is how you talk to me? You think because you got some little job at that school, you know what it means to be grown?"
He then stepped closer, his jaw tightening. "I'd oughta bust you in the mouth for speaking to me that way."
"Well go head then!" you shouted at him. "Because nothing you do is going to change the fact that what I said was true. All of it."
The words left your mouth before you could stop them, for a second, everything went quiet. And that's when it happened. His face darkened, his anger on his face wasn't loud anymore, it was colder. The kind of look that made your stomach twist it's own self because you knew you had pushed him past the point of just yelling.
You heard it, the sharp sound of glass shifting. Your eyes moved toward his hand, and your heart dropped.
"Don't—" your voice went quiet. But you were too late.
The room erupted into chaos. Everything happened so fast that your mind struggled to catch up. In that moment, you realized something. You couldn't just continue stay there, saving up on your money, you had to leave now. You held your face as you felt blood slip form your cheek. You felt tears start to rise but you held them back. You couldn't cry, not in front of him.
"You think this makes you ," you say bitterly. You eyes were stinging and your face was hot. The pain hurted, you pressed your hand against the cut.
He scoffed before walking closer, that cracked bottle still in his rugged hand. "I see you still ain't learn to cover your mouth."
Your body went cold as if winter just came around the corner. The bottle, ready to cut across your face again for the second time. Forget the groceries. Forget the bills. Forget everything you had spent months trying to save. None of it mattered if you couldn't even feel safe in your own home.
You ran around to grab your coat and rushed toward the front door, your hands trembling as you fumbled with the handle.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" his voice shouted behind you. He came marching after you, saying a bunch of swears at you.
You didn't answer to any of it, you didn't even turn back. You just ran out the house. The second your feet hit the porch, you heard him moving behind you.
"Get back in here!"
Your heart pounded as you pushed yourself faster, the cold air burning your lungs. You didn't look back. You couldn't. For once, you weren't worried about upsetting him. You weren't worried about keeping the peace or turning the other cheek, because that same cheek you turned had now been cut. It was now a reminder of what happened when you didn't put yourself first. Now, you just wanted to save yourself. There was one place you could go, it wasn't too far. You had to tell Jackie.
At the Jackson house, you were always welcomed. You rushed up the front steps, your hands shaking as you knocked quickly on the door. Your breathing was heavy, uneven, and your legs felt like they were finally catching up to how far you had pushed yourself.
You could still feel the stinging on your face, the reminder of everything that had just happened. A small amount of blood still stained your cheek, but you didn't care. You just needed someone.
Some footsteps came to the door and it opened. There stood Jackie, calm as ever, but his eyes widened when he saw you. His eyes scanned your face, taking in the blood smeared across your cheek and the way your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath.
"Y/n…"
He was at your side before you could say a word, wrapping his arms around you like he was afraid you'd fall apart if he let go. "What happened?" His voice shook in panic. "Talk to me. Who did this?"
A few tears finally came rolling down your face, you couldn't speak just yet, all the words you were about to say formed into quiet sobs under your breath. You weren't okay, you finally realized that. You couldn't keep this held in anymore. As you held onto Jackie, you cried more and more.
"Hey… hey, c'mon, baby," Jackie said softly, his arms tightening around you. "You're okay. Come inside."
He gently guided you into the house and shut the door behind you, making sure it was locked before turning back to you.
"Easy… easy," his hands came up to cradle your face, careful not to touch the blood on your cheek. His brows pulled together as he looked you over, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Lord…" He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm, he sat you down on the couch. He wanted to freak out himself, you came almost in the middle of the night with your face cut. He searched your face, his voice barely above a whisper, "Baby… who did this to you?"
Another sob escaped your lips before you could stop it.
"He…" Your voice cracked. You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. "He cut me," you finally said.
A breathy cry was let out as you said against Jackie, "Was arguin' with him…couldn't hold my tongue anymore," you shook your head slightly. "He told me, he outa buss me in the mouth and then I yelled at em. Then he,… he just cut that bottle across my face."
"He was gonna do it again.... I couldn't get my stuff...none of it....I..." another small cry left your lips.
You kept your voice quiet, almost too quiet. In a sense, you were embarrassed. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene in the Jackson house. You didn't want everyone rushing in because of you.
"He cut you?" Jackie asked lowly. Jackie heard just small bits and pieces about your step father, but never the whole truth, you've always kept it from him.
"It's all my fault," you mumbled to yourself. "I should have been left, I should've just left him alone..."
"Hey hey," he tells you quietly. "Look at me," he tells you. Your teary eyes gently glance over to him. Jackie looked beyond pissed, but he tried to keep his composure for you.
"You didn't make him do that, he did that on his own because he's a old dirty fool who can't control himself. I don't care what y'all argued about or what was said… nobody has the right to put their hands on you."
His grip softened against your face. "You hear me, baby? You didn't deserve any of this." Your heart hurted when he said that, he was right. You carried so much on yourself.
And you blamed yourself because it was easier than admitting the truth.
The truth was... you had been surviving for so long that you forgot none of this was ever supposed to be your burden to carry. Another tear rolled down your cheek as you looked away, your chest tightening.
You were tired, so damn tired.
Jackie felt more anger bubbling underneath his skin, "Matter a fact," he then said. He got up and called two of his brothers, Randy and Tito. There was a seriousness to it you'd never heard before. He was always so soft spoken around you.
"Jackie..." you called his name quietly.
He looked back at you, the anger in his eyes softening the second he saw your face. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared down the hallway and opened the bathroom cabinet, grabbing a clean washcloth and a bottle of peroxide. His movements were quick, almost rushed, but careful all at once.
A moment later, he was back in front of you. He crouched down, gently unfolding the cloth. "Baby m'so sorry," he said quietly.
He felt his chest tightening. His anger started to turn into a deep hatred sitting inside him, seeing you like this hurt him in a way he couldn't explain. The woman who meant so much to him had been hurt. And he wasn't there to stop it.
That thought alone made his eyes sting. How many times had that man put his hands on you? How many times did you tell him everything was fine even though things weren't? He hated that you had been carrying all of this by yourself, he hated that you felt like you had to hide it from him, like you had to suffer quietly just to keep everyone else from worrying.
He gently kissed your forehead , he felt himself almost about to cry.
As his fingers gently held your face, Randy and Tito came from the hallway. They were happy to see you, but their faces changed as soon as they saw the scene. Randy's eyes moved from Jackie, to you, then to the blood on your face. "The hell happened?" he said coming over. Tito look concerned himself but kept quiet.
Jackie looked up at him, his jaw tightening, "Her stepdad."
Those two words alone were enough. Randy's face hardened as he looked at you. He had heard little things before, but nothing that made him think it was this bad. Jackie stayed focused on you, gently wiping your face with a damp cloth.
"He did that?" Randy asked, clearly mad.
Tito looked at Jackie, then back at you, "You alright?" You nodded at them, even though nobody in the room believed you.
"When did this happen?" Randy asked walking over with Tito.
"She just came here," Jackie replied still cleaning your face and drying your eyes. "After I'm done with her," he said, voice low, "I'm gonna need you two to ride with me somewhere."
They didn't even ask where, they already knew and so did you.
"Jackie," you said protesting. "Please don't go back there."
His eyes met yours, "He hurt you," Jackie said quietly. "Smashed a damn bottle against your face, now you sittin' here bleeding." His jaw tightened as he looked away for a second, like he was trying to calm himself down.
"You really think I shouldn't?"
You didn't answer him yet. He sighed, turning his attention back to you. He carefully applied the bandage softly to your face, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotions running through him.
"I ain't gon' kill him if that's what got you worried," he added, almost like he knew that was what you were afraid of. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek.
"But he needs to know he can't do this to you."
"I know, I know. But I'm worried about you, Jackie" you then say to him. "You don't need to be," he assured you.
"Well I told you no," you say raising your voice at him slightly. You sat up against the couh,
"I don't want you going back there. Please, just stay here with me. I'm tired. I ran all the way down here, I just want you to stay. Please," you quietly begged him. You didn't know what would happen if Jackie, Randy and Tito went down there and didn't return, or got into even more trouble. You didn't want to have any trouble with the Jacksons. You just wanted Jackie to stay with you.
"Please," you uttered quietly.
Underneath all the fear, underneath the anger, Jackie heard what you were really asking. You weren't asking him to ignore what just happened, you were asking him to not leave you alone.
He wanted to go down there so bad.
Every part of him wanted to leave the house, walk right back to where it happened, and make sure that man understood what he had done. The anger sitting in his chest felt heavy, almost unbearable.
But then he looked at you.
The way your eyes were tired and hurt, still glossy from you crying so much. The way you were still holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you steady. That mattered more. He took in a deep breath, swallowing down everything he wanted to say.
"Alright, baby," he said quietly.
His eyes then went to Randy and Tito, who had been standing there the whole time. Randy didn't say anything. Tito just looked at Jackie and shook his head lightly, almost like he understood what he was thinking. Jackie knew that look, he knew Tito was telling him to calm down.
Taking a deep breath, Jackie looked back over at you. "….At least let me take you to the hospital y/n," he said softly, a plea. "You need to get checked out."
His thumb gently rubbed against your hand. "I know you don't wanna go. I know you don't wanna worry nobody… but I need to know you're alright. Make sure you don't need any stitches or anything."
You thought about it, in all honesty it did seem like a good idea. Hell, you've been cut across the face for crying out loud. But all you could think about was your mom.
"My mom's there…" you muttered, almost like you were embarrassed to even say it.
"Been there for a bit, I don't want her seeing me like this."
Jackie's expression softened, he knew exactly what you meant. You weren't just worried about the hospital, you were worried about your mama looking at you and seeing the truth. What you been going through, seeing what you had been trying so hard to hide from everybody.
"Baby…" Jackie said softly. His hand reached over to yours, gently taking your hand. "Your mama ain't gonna be upset with you, this ain't your fault."
You looked down, "I know. I just don't want her worrying about me Jackie. She's already got enough going on."
Jackie sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You always worried about everybody else." His thumb rubbed against your hand, "But right now, you gotta let somebody worry about you."
"I know," you tell him softly. "Just let me rest right now, then we can go" you mumble.
Jackie nodded, something you both could agree on, "Of course. Come here," he said.
Tito and Randy both gave looks at each other. Their footsteps then faded down the hallway, probably going to let the rest of the family know they had company and that something was wrong.
Jackie brought you up close to his chest and closed his arms around you.
"We'll figure this out..."
His hand gently rubbed your back in small circle motions, slow and comforting. As moments went by, your breathing started to sync with his. Slow and quiet, relaxed. His face rested gently against your forehead, his eyes closing for a moment as he held you. Every now and then, he pressed a small kiss against your hair, his arms never leaving.
authors note; girl pls let jackie take you to the hospital....that wasn't no papercut. anywhos this request seemed very detailed and I'm a lil concerned, if you going through something sis pls ask for help💔. if this just a request and nothin happening then excuse me I'm being dramatic lmfao. i'll edit it later!
synopsis: a week of dead silence and pride snaps after you see jermajesty at a house party. he reminds you that no matter who you try to replace him with or how hard you try to stand your ground, he always knows exactly how to make you fold.
warnings: 18+, heavy smut, toxic situationship, jealousy sex, house party setting (majority), unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, wall sex, dirty talk/praise, heavy angst, lots of arguing, jermajesty still can’t leave you alone, texting, use of pet names, use of nword, slow burn (sorry)
wc: 9.8k
a/n: okayy my lovers pt 2!! i hope you guys love reading this, i actually loved writing it. the writing and plot is a little different from part 1 (hopefully that’s okay). i knowwww it’s super longg, it’s a slowwww burn. it gets good i promise!
off topic: but all my baddies know that for certain is not on ig and we needa sue. please let me know if yall enjoyed this💖
requests are open!
(for my @ pls lmk if you wanna be tagged for only jaafar, only jermajesty, only michael, or if you dont mind all!!)
tags (message to be added or removed): @vict-oryy, @kianaajermajesty, @mimionspot, @ghettofabu05, @lilitheebaddest, @swavydadon, @4ppl3h34d, @mrsj4cks0n, @callmelyriic, @plan3tch1ld, @softchaosdiary505, @keiiate, @superduperawkwardcutie, @notepadgirl14, @sayyoulovemeziya, @cchampangemamii, @aristoleyaferrarii, @prettygirlwmula, @tojiswifeforlife, @ykvixen, @griddypops
you missed that man, but your pride was never going to allow you to act on that. it’s been a week since you last spoke to him, and since then not a single call or text.
you sat up in the center of your bed, glasses hung low over the bridge of your nose. you knew you were wrong for how you spoke to him, but at the same time he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too.
“oh my fucking god.” you picked up your phone for the hundredth time in 5 minutes.
no older notifications.
the frustration made you feel physically sick, a wave of nausea rising in your throat. you turned your phone on do not disturb, turning it over and throwing it towards the end of your bed. you let out a shaky breath, rubbing your temples as the silence of your room started to feel heavy.
you hated how much power he had over your peace of mind, even when he wasn’t physically there.
a whole week of nothing. no desperate late night texts, no ‘i miss you’, no ‘im sorry’, nothing. it was like the second you told him to leave, he actually took you seriously for once.
buzz. buzz. buzz.
the sudden vibration against the mattress made you flinch. you scrambled across the sheets, your heart leaping into your throat as you grabbed the phone, hoping his name would be on the screen.
a wave of disappointment rushed over you as you saw the contact name. it was your bestfriend, solana. before you could even press decline, her texts started stacking up at the top of the screen.
solii 💖☀️:bitch why the fuck you on dnd!!!
solii 💖☀️:answer this phone
solii 💖☀️: if you love your life
you finally hit accept, “hello?”
“girl why the fuck am i on dnd?”
“it’s my whole phone, not just you!” you defended rolling your eyes.
“i don’t care about all that, put me on that disturb list, what if im dying?”
you snort, a small smile finally breaking through your gloom. “solana. please. why are you blowing me up?”
“do it now. anyways, weee are going out tonight!!”
“who’s we?!”
“don’t play with me, youuu and me! you remember kyari, yall used to talk before ‘mr maj’ swept you off your feet.”
“girl, he didn’t sweep me off my—okay whatever. what about kyari?”
“he’s throwing a party tonight at some bnb, starts at 8.”
“oh my goddd i don’t wanna go out solana.” you groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “i look dead right now.”
“i already told him you’d be thereeee, he’s excitedddd. at some point you’re gonna have to get up.”
“why is he excited, it’s not like anything is about to happen.”
“something could! you know a lil roster can’t hurt.”
“nope, imma stay loyal.”
“oh my fucking gosh, you and this nigga. bitch we are TIRED!” solana groaned so loud it sounded like she was physically in pain. “the group chat is tired! your mother is tired! jesus is tired!”
“you know you love us together,” you teased, picking at a loose thread on your blanket.
“the both of you are stressing me out, forget about that dick and come get a new one! there are men that would killl to have you right now and you over here going out sad over jer?”
“yesss, ugh i don’t want another dick. i only love his,” you say, your voice dropping.
“see cause you about to piss me off. we are not over here talking about no jermajesty. you are going to put on a little cute fit, we are going to shake our asses, and we are going to have fun.”
“i just miss him,”
“he still hasn’t said anything to you?” solana’s tone softened just a little bit, her protective best friend mode slipping through.
“nope.”
“he’s annoying as fuck, i think you should let him go. even if it’s just for tonight. just put the phone down, let yourself have fun. he’s not making you happy right now, babygirl.”
“okay... i hear you.”
“soooo! you coming?”
“do i have a choice?”
“hell nah! i’ll pick you up by 8:30, be ready! and wear the red one piece, the one that makes your ass look like lattos!”
you giggle at your bestfriend’s excitement, “okayyy fine, i’ll see you.”
“bye love youuuu!”
“bye baby i love you.”
you hung up the phone, the sudden silence of your bedroom hitting you twice as hard now that solana’s chaotic energy was gone.
you stared at the screen for a second before letting out a long, heavy sigh.
kyari.
just hearing his name felt weird. he was sweet, fine as hell, and always knew exactly what to say to make you blush back then. but the second jermajesty had stepped into your life, everyone else had just faded into the background. maj didn’t even have to try. he just took up all the space in your head, and you let him.
but solana was right. you were stressing everyone out with this back and forth shit, including yourself. a week of silence, and you were still sitting here waiting like an idiot while he was probably out doing whatever he wanted.
“fuck him,” you muttered to yourself, throwing the covers off your legs. “just for tonight.”
you stood up and walked over to your closet, pulling the door open. if you were going out, you were going to make sure you looked good.
you picked out a tight, backless, laced red one piece, that hugged every single curve of your body, matching it with some simple heels.
you spent the next hour and a half, showering, taking your time blending your makeup to perfection, finishing off with lining your lips until you looked absolutely edible.
by the time 8:25 pm rolled around, you were standing, taking pictures in front of your full length mirror, and you couldn’t even deny it, you looked incredible.
you posted a 4 picture collage of the mirror pics on your ig story, with the song “for certain,” by partynextdoor.
right on cue, your phone buzzed in your hand.
solii 💖☀️: outside bitch! get your fine ass down here
you giggled, grabbing your small gold clutch and checking your lip gloss one last time. you took a breath, locking your apartment door behind you and repeating your new mantra in your head as you walked down the stairs.
no thinking about jermajesty tonight.
“mhm! this is what the fuck i was talking about!” your best friend instantly pulling her phone out to record you.
“hey soliii,” you smile at her, sitting down in the passengers seat.
“you look sooo yummy, mami. they don’t know what’s about to hit them, i swear. ahhh! let’s get turned the fuck up!”
the party was already packed by the time you and solana pulled up to the airbnb. it was a massive house tucked away in a nice neighborhood, music already rattling the windows from the outside, the bass vibrating through the driveway.
the second you walked through the front door, the heat of the crowd and the smell of liquor and weed hit you instantly.
“oh yeah, this is exactly what you needed,” solana yelled over the music, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the kitchen. “drinks first!”
you took a double shot of tequila, the hot burn slicing through the nausea in your stomach and instantly loosening your tight shoulders.
“ohh shit.”
you turned around at the deep voice. kyari was standing there, a cup in his hand, a massive grin spreading across his face the second his eyes locked onto you.
he looked even better than how you remembered. dark skin glowing under the party lights, clean haircut, smelling like expensive cologne. his eyes immediately slowly dragged down your body, taking in your outfit before snapping back up to your face.
“kee! oh my gosh, hi,” your face instantly lights up, pulling him into a hug.
“i thought solana was lying when she said you were coming,” kyari laughs, pulling back to look at you. “damn, you look good.”
“thank you. you look good too.”
“so you been good?”
“yeah, just working, trying to stay out the way. you?”
“same old shit. but i can’t lie, i’m glad you came through tonight.”
you raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “oh for real?”
“yeah. i was starting to think i was never gonna see you again after you ghosted me.”
you laugh, shaking your head. “don’t start.”
“nah, but seriously…” his smile softens. “you seeing anybody?”
your body stiffens, “nope, i’m not,” you say with quickness.
kyari snickers, throwing his head back, “aight bet.” he says, that grin widening. he takes a step into your space, not too close, but close enough that you can smell that expensive cologne.
“so since you single, and you lookin’ like this,” he says, his eyes dragging slowly down your body before snapping back to your face, his voice dropping a little lower. “i don’t gotta feel bad about trying to keep you all to myself tonight.”
you laugh, feeling the tequila warming up your chest, a welcome distraction. “oh, is that what we’re doing?”
“mhm,” kyari snickers, stepping just a little bit closer. “absolutely. let me get us a drink first, though.”
“tequilaaa,” you sing, swaying your cup, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
“already knowing,” he says, pointing a finger at you with a grin. “stay right here, i’ll be right back.”
you watch him walk away toward the kitchen, his tall frame cutting through the crowded living room.
you pulled your phone out of your gold clutch, clicking it open just to check the time. it was 9:45 pm. you checked your insta notifications, heart eyes, randoms trying to hit you up, the usual dry responses.
well did he atleast view it, you thought to yourself.
you open your story views, scrolling until you saw his user. it took about a minute to find it, only because he was all the way at the bottom.
you smiled to yourself, he viewed it first.
the feeling lasted for a second when a dm slides down from the top of your phone screen.
jermajestyjjackson: 😂😂🤣
your breath caught in your throat, your thumb hovering directly over the screen as you stared at the laughing emojis. what the hell did that mean?
you tapped on the chat, typing with quickness.
you: what’s funny?
jermajestyjjackson: lmao
jermajestyjjackson: who you dressing up for?
jermajestyjjackson: you look good tho
you: i’m dressing up for myself jermajesty.
you: mind the business that pays you.
jermajestyjjackson: aii
jermajestyjjackson: where you at?
you: i’m out.
jermajestyjjackson: kyari’s?
you stared at the screen, your heart hammering against your ribs. before you could even think of a reply, you felt a warm hand gently rest on the side of your waist.
“hey,” kyari’s deep voice cut through your thoughts, making you jump slightly as you locked your screen and shoved the phone back into your gold clutch.
he was standing in front of you, holding two plastic cups filled to the brim. “got your double tequila. what you looking at like that?”
“nothing,” you smiled, taking the cup from his hand and taking a quick sip, letting the sharp burn of the alcohol settle your heart. “just solana being annoying. thank you.”
“of course,” kyari smiled, stepping a little closer into your space, his eyes admiring the way the dim party lights hit your face.
“wait so, you and maj still cool?”
you freeze, your cup stopping half way to your mouth.
“why?” you ask, trying to sound casual, like the name didn’t just throw your whole chest into a panic.
“i mean, i know y’all used to be real close,” kyari says, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes scan your face, trying to read your reaction. “like, locked in close. but i haven’t really seen you posting him or nothing lately, so i wasn’t sure if things were good between you guys.”
“locked in is crazy, that’s like my brother,” you lied smoothly, looking down at the ice melting in your cup.
“actually? heard yall were fucking,” his voice hinted with suspicion, bringing his cup to his lips.
“pffttt, what the fuck? neverrr that.”
“okay, bet. cause i was actually talking to him earlier this week,” kyari says, dropping the bomb so casually you almost choked on your drink. “he was helping me with some shit, and i told him i was throwing this function tonight. said he should pull up.”
your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “you invited him?”
“yeah, he ain’t tell you? told him to slide. he said he’d think about it,” kyari says.
“yeoo, what’s good kyari.” a familiar voice suddenly drags through behind you. you felt the air completely leave your lungs.
“yooo what’s good with you twin,” kyari grins.
you turn around slowly as they dap each other up, your heart hammering against your ribs. when their hands separate, jermajesty’s eyes slide over to you. he slowly looks you up and down, taking in the one piece, the scent of your sweet vanilla lotion wrapping right around him.
pure hunger filled his eyes, “hey ma, how you been?” he leans down to give you a side hug. his large hand grips the bare skin of your lower back, his palm burning hot against your skin for a brief, heavy second before he pulls away.
“hi jermajesty.”
“that’s crazy, j we were just talking about you.” kyari starts.
“really?” jermajesty murmurs, his dark eyes still locked onto your face, a subtle, knowing glint in them.
“yeah,”
“why?”
“i told her you were pulling up. i was just asking if yall talked like that so it wasn’t weird or nun but she said yall di—”
your eyes widened with panic, the dread of kyari spilling the “brother” lie right in front of the man who had been deep inside you, rearranging your insides just a week ago making your stomach drop.
“kee imma go find solana, ill catch you later okay?” you said, cutting him off with quickness.
“oh aight, i’ll catch you.”
you don’t even wait for jermajesty to say another word. you leave, feet rushing to find your best friend, desperately trying to put as much distance between you and that suffocating gaze as possible.
you practically pushed your way through the crowded living room, your heart hammering against your ribs so hard it felt painful.
the heat of the room, the loud bass of the music, the smell of weed and liquor, it was all suddenly too much. your skin was still burning where his hand had rested on your bare back for that split second.
you scanned the crowd frantically, looking for solana’s hair.
“soli!” you gasped, finally spotting her by the kitchen island, laughing with a group of people. you grabbed her by the arm, pulling her away so hard she almost spilled her drink.
“woah, bitch, damn!” she laughed, but the second she saw the panic on your face, her expression dropped. “mama, what’s wrong? you look like you saw a ghost.”
“he’s here,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “jermajesty is here.”
solana’s eyes went wide. “what? why?!”
“kyari invited him,” you said, running a hand over your forehead, feeling the sweat starting to bead there from the anxiety. “they’re cool, apparently. and sol, kyari asked if we were fucking, and i panicked and said he was like my brother. right before jermajesty walked up behind us.”
“no the fuck you did not,” solana stared at you, her jaw literally dropping. “your brother?! the nigga that was literally—”
“shhh!” you hissed, covering her mouth with your hand. “solana be quiet!”
“yo.”
the rough voice behind you made you freeze entirely, your hand slowly dropping from solana’s mouth.
you turned around slowly. jermajesty was standing just a few feet away, a plastic cup in his hand. his dark, messy curls framing his face. his chest was rising and falling slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.
solana looked between the two of you, letting out a heavy sigh. “i’m gonna... go get a refill,” she muttered, giving your arm a ‘sorry’ squeeze before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you abandoned.
jermajesty stepped closer, his massive frame easily blocking you into the corner of the kitchen counter. “your brother?” he chuckled, his voice dropping into that register that always made your thighs press together.
you rolled your eyes, you knew kyari had a big ass mouth, this is why you stopped talking to him in the first place. “that’s what we doing? i’m your brother, now? this what you telling niggas?”
you backed up until your lower back hit the edge of the marble counter, but he just stepped right with you, his chest almost brushing against yours.
“i had to say something, jer,” you whispered, trying to sound defensive. you looked anywhere but at his face, at his chest, at the gold chain around his neck, at the way the collar of his grey hoodie was slightly stretched. “he was asking me mad questions.”
“so you tell him i’m like your brother?” jermajesty stepped even closer, his large hand coming up to rest on the counter right next to your hip, trapping you.
he bent his head down so his lips were right near your ear, “you be fucking on your brothers, bae? cause the last time i checked, brothers don’t do the shit i do to you.”
the audacity of his words made your face burn hot. you wanted to push him away, but your body was betraying you so fast.
“ew stop, don’t say that shit,” you muttered, placing your hands flat against his chest to keep some distance between you. his chest felt like solid rock under your palms, his heart beating a steady rhythm. “you haven’t talked to me in a week, and now you wanna pull up and act like this?”
“act like what?” he asked, his dark eyes dropped down to your lips, then slowly slid down to the one piece, taking in the way your chest was rising and falling with your shaky breaths. “you posting shit on ig, showing your ass, and then i walk in here and see some other man all up on you?”
“well i like kyari!” you snapped quietly, your pride finally flaring up. “and why the fuck do you even care? you’re the one who said you weren’t ready for a relationship. so, i’m single.”
his thick fingers gently but firmly wrapping around your jaw, forcing you to look up and lock eyes with him. his thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch surprisingly soft despite the anger rolling off him.
“i care because it’s you,” he growled, his voice so low only you could hear it over the thumping bass of the music. “i don’t give a fuck what i said last week. you think i’m gonna just let some other nigga have you?”
“i’m not yours, you made it clear to me what you wanted, jermajesty. you don’t fucking want me, you just like playing with me. so imma do me and go fuck with someone who knows what they want.”
“fuck with who?” he spat the words out.
“who are you gonna go fuck with? kyari? you think he is gonna give you what you want? you think he’s gonna fuck you like i do?”
“he might even do me better than you, that’s something i gotta find out,” you push.
his eyes went dark, his pupils dilating until his eyes looked almost entirely black. the air between you grew so thick and hot it felt like you were standing in front of an open oven.
“do you better?” he repeated, his voice dropping so low and quiet. thighs locked right against yours, trapping you completely between his frame and the hard marble counter. “you wanna find out?”
you tried to hold your ground, chin tilted up, but your breathing was coming in ragged puffs against his collarbone. “i’m single, jer,” you forced out again, “i can do whatever the fuck i want.”
“not with my shit you can’t,” he murmured, his face dipping down until his lips were barely a millimeter away from yours. “say that shit again—”
“heyyy maj, ive missed you,” a voice interrupted.
you both turn to look over at the girl.
you have never seen her before, and she didn’t look like any of the girls he used to fuck with. she was pretty, but her energy was completely trying too hard. the second she spoke, the hold jermajesty had on you evaporated.
“yo…what’s good,” he backs away from you.
the sudden distance made your skin turn cold, but the absolute audacity of it made a spark of amusement flare up in your chest. this was the same nigga who was just growling in your ear about how you belonged to him.
“who’s this?” she turns towards you, looking you up and down, her eyes lingering on your outfit with a defensive glare.
“who are you?” you point at her, not even trying to hide the attitude in your voice.
she smiles and puts her hands on his chest, right over his heart where your hands had just been resting. “well jermajesty is like my man.”
you look at her, then you look at him. standing there looking absolutely stupid with her hands on him and you burst out laughing.
a loud, genuine laugh that echoed over the kitchen noise. you literally couldn’t even help it. the timing of this was absolute cinema.
“bitch—” she starts, bucking towards you like she wanted to do something.
jermajesty pushes her back a bit, his hand gripping her shoulder to keep her from getting any closer to you. “why you saying that?” jermajesty asks her, his face twisting up in annoyance as he looks down at her.
“what do you mean? we’ve been talking.”
“bro don’t say that stupid shit to nobody else,” he snaps, his voice harsh and embarrassed, his eyes quickly darting back to your face to see your reaction.
“so wait,” you catch your breath, wiping a fake tear from your eye as your laugh dies down into a cold smirk. “you’re over here doing entirely too much, and the new bitch youre fucking shows up.”
“we are not fucking,” he said, his voice sounding desperate now as he took a half step toward you again, trying to ignore the girl still clinging to his arm.
“right…okay well you two have fun, imma go dance.”
you didn’t even give him a chance to open his mouth. you spun on your heels, your ass doing all the talking as you strutted away from the kitchen counter. you didn’t look back once, letting the crowd swallow you whole as you went to go find solana and kyari.
“kyarii, dance with me!!” you practically fly onto the living room floor, your hips already moving to the heavy bass before you even reach him.
kyari turns around, a fresh drink in his hand, and the second his eyes lock onto you, his face lights up with a massive grin.
“shiiit, you ain’t gotta ask me twice,” he says, he steps right into your space, his hand finding its way back to your waist.
you turn around, backing your body up against his, letting your hips sway slowly to the rhythm of the music. “you look good as hell, did i tell you that already?” kyari murmurs near your ear, his chest pressing against your bare back. “thought you went to go find solana?”
“she was busy!” you yell back over the thumping music, placing your hand over his on your hips.
kyari snickers, pulling you just a little bit closer as the dj transitions into a slow beat. from the corner of your eye, past the flashing party lights and the crowded dance floor, you look toward the kitchen walkway.
sure enough, jermajesty is standing there.
he’s completely ignored the girl who was just claiming him, leaving her standing by the counter as he watches you. his hands shoved deep into his pockets, standing completely still.
you feel a wicked smirk tug at your lips. you look away, turning your head to smile up at kyari, letting your body press even closer to his.
you turn around towards kyari, wrapping your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes.
“chill bro, i’m easy,” he laughs, his hands resting easily on your hips.
“promise?”
“you’re funny, you sure maj won’t beat my ass?”
“boy. i already told you, don’t even worry about him.”
“the way he’s looking, looks like he’s gonna kill someone.”
“well that’s his business, yourr business is me right now. so focus on me.”
“you right you right, my fault, cmere,” he smiles, pulling you closer as you guys sway to the music, his eyes locked onto yours.
as you’re dancing, you scan the crowd and catch solana dancing on some random, your eyes meeting. she smiles widely, sticking her tongue out, giving you a proud thumbs up.
suddenly, the beat of “crybaby” by megan thee stallion comes over the loud speakers. the dj screams over the mic, “i wanna see all my pretty girls in that circle, lemme see sum!!”
“ouuu this is my song,” you squeal, instantly dropping your arms from kyari’s neck.
solana is already running towards you, pushing through the crowd. “girl come on this is our shit!!” she screams, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the center of the living room where a massive circle of girls is already forming.
the crowd of girls is screaming, clapping their hands to the beat as the circle opens up wide in the middle of the living room.
solana is already in the center, hyping everyone up, throwing her hips back and forth.
“aye! aye! aye!” the crowd chants, matching the energy of the song. solana grabs your hand, spinning you into the very center of the spotlight. the tequila is running hot through your veins, your confidence at an all time high.
you don’t even hesitate. you look over at kyari, who is standing right at the edge of the circle with a massive grin on his face.
you reach out, grabbing his hands and pulling him right into the center with you. you turn your back to him, dropping down low, and start twerking, matching the rhythm of the song.
kyari lets out a low ‘shit’, his hands instantly finding their way back to your hips and ass, holding on as your body moves against his. but you aren’t looking at kyari.
as you move, you tilt your head back slightly, your eyes cutting straight through the lights, and right to the back of the room.
jermajesty is still standing by the kitchen walkway. and he is looking right at you. you lock eyes with him, holding his gaze while your body continues to move effortlessly against kyari.
his hands, still shoved in his hoodie pocket, clench so hard you can see the fabric straining. he looks like he’s about to lose his mind right in front of everyone.
‘bitch tryna brag about taking my man, huh i needed me a nigga off my hands.’ with a careless smirk plastered on your face, you raise your hand, pointing your finger straight towards jermajesty in front of the entire room.
he smiles humorlessly, tongue pressing against his cheek and shakes his head, disappearing from the walkway.
the song ends and you excuse yourself from kyari to go use the bathroom. you couldn’t find an open one downstairs so you went upstairs. one room was locked, another had like six people making out, all you needed was to use the fucking bathroom.
you find a room all the way towards the end of the second floor. “fucking finally.” you slip inside, quickly locking the wooden door behind you.
you lean your back against the door, the adrenaline from the living room was still pumping through your veins, your heart beating a mile a minute.
you walked over to the bathroom mirror, turning on the light. you still looked absolutely edible. the top of your outfit made your titties sit perfectly, your hair was slightly messy in the best way possible, and your skin was glowing.
you grabbed some hand soap, washing your hands and taking a moment to just breathe and collect yourself. suddenly, the handle of the bathroom door jiggled.
“someone’s in here!” you called out, grabbing a towel to dry your hands. the handle jiggled again, harder this time. you crack the door open a bit “i said—” jermajesty pushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it. your breath hitched in your throat, your back instantly hitting the edge of the sink as you stared at him.
he didn’t say a word. he just stood there, towering over you in the space. he smiled, his eyes slowly, swept down your body, taking in every single inch before snapping back up to lock onto yours. “you had a lot of fun downstairs, hm?” he murmured, his voice so low and rough it vibrated in your chest.
“bro what are you talking about,” you said, trying to push past him toward the door. “let me out, jermajesty.”
he didn’t move an inch. he just stood there like a brick wall, his frame completely cutting off your only exit.
“you don’t know what i’m talking about?” he repeated, letting out another short, humorless laugh. he stepped closer, his chest almost pressing against yours, trapping you completely against the sink. “so you weren’t just shaking your ass on kyari? you weren't looking me dead in my eyes while you did it?”
“oh my god jermajesty, just rest!” you spat, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes, refusing to let him see how much he was affecting you. “you don’t own me. go back downstairs to your little girlfriend.”
“i told you she’s not my girl,” his hand came up, his strong fingers gripping the edge of the sink on either side of your hips. leaning down until his face was inches from yours. “you felt real brave doing that shit in front of everybody. you thought that shit was funny?”
“it was hilarious,” you mocked. “yeah? this is a game to you?” his eyes dropping to your lips, then sliding down to the exposed skin of your chest.
“jermajesty what is your fucking plan? i’m getting so tired of all this back and forth. it’s either you get your life in check or you leave me the fuck alone. like genuinely, what are we doing?”
“leave you alone?” his voice almost a whisper, lifting your chin with his index finger.
the roughness of his skin against your jaw made a shiver run straight down your spine, pulling your gaze up to lock into his.
“yes, i’m tired of this,” your tone dropped, the anger leaving you in one exhausted breath. you hated how easily he could deflate your defenses, how just the touch of his finger could make you feel like you were unraveling.
his voice was making you completely, and entirely wet. the quiet vibration of his words went straight to your core, making your thighs press together as a heavy ache pooled between them.
you wanted to give in. you wanted to forget about the girl downstairs, forget about the week of silence, and just let him take over.
“you want me to leave you alone,” he stepped even closer, his bulge pressing against your lower stomach. his index finger slid from your chin, his thumb taking its place to gently stroke your bottom lip, parting them slightly.
“tell me what you really want,” you opened your mouth to speak, but only a soft, shaky breath came out. you couldn’t say it. and he knew it.
a knowing smirk touched his lips, his hand sliding down your neck to rest heavily on your collarbone, his thumb pressing right against the beat of your pulse.
“that’s what I thought,” he whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed against yours. “you ain’t tired of me. you’re just mad.”
“you actually piss me off so bad,” the anger in your voice cracked halfway through the sentence. “you keep fucking with my feelings.”
“like i genuinely hate you jermajesty. you leave me for a week, no text, no call, nothing. im losing my mind then you come here and expect me to just fold because you say so.”
the smirk instantly wiped off his face. as that single tear slipped down your cheek, his thumb moved up to catch it, his dark eyes softened, the cocky intensity draining out of him.
“you told me to leave,” he said, his voice sounding thick and strained.
“you don’t want to fucking be with me, what did you want me to do!?”
“i do want to be with you, more than fucking anything. i’ve said that, i’ve been saying that.”
“this is just so embarrassing.”
your words seemed to physically hit him. his hand on your collarbone tightened slightly, not to hurt you, but like he was terrified you were actually about to slip right through his fingers. “don’t say that,” he whispered.
“don’t say that. i know i fuck up. i know we can be messy. when you told me to leave, it fucked me up. i know i got a bunch of shit i needa work on for you.”
he let out a sigh, his chest expanding against yours. “but seeing you downstairs...seeing another nigga touching on you–” he slid his hand up to cup your face, his big palm warm against your cheek. “i don’t want to play games with you. i want you. for real. no more back and forth.”
you scoff, “so it took me being with kyari for you to want to change everything? do you not hear how that sounds?”
“it’s not even that–”
“you’re actually bugging, this conversation is over,” you scoff. you turn for the door, but his hand catches your arm. “stop.”
“jermajesty, please let go of me.”
“i just want to talk to you.”
“i don’t got nothing else to say to you,” you say, looking around the space. “i already told you i was done.”
his grip relaxes, his shoulders dropping. “okay. just... let me take you home then.”
you pause, weighing your options. “i’m not leaving solana.”
“okay.”
“so you’re gonna take her home too.”
“yes, okay.”
“what about her car?”
“i’ll bring her back in the morning to get it.”
“fine.” you push past him, finally escaping the bathroom into the bedroom. “but don’t think this means we’re good again, we aren’t.” behind you, jermajesty lets out a loud, defeated sigh.
the cool air hits your skin, and the muffled bass from downstairs rushes back into your ears. your heart is still pounding, but the fog in your head has completely cleared.
you head straight down the stairs, your eyes scanning the crowded living room. it doesn’t take you long to spot solana. she’s standing near the hallway entrance, the second she sees you, her face lights up with relief.
she immediately excuses herself and jogs over to meet you. “girl, where the hell did you go?” she asks, grabbing your forearm. “i saw jermajesty disappear upstairs right after you did, and i was about to come up there with a knife. you okay?”
“i’m fine,” you say, your voice completely steady. “we’re leaving.” solana blinks, surprised. “now? but the party is still–what about my car? what about kyari?”
“jermajesty is driving us,” you say, keeping your voice low. “he’s taking you home, and he’s bringing you back in the morning to get your car. i already sorted it.”
solana’s jaw drops slightly, her eyes widening as she looks past your shoulder. you turn around and see jermajesty walking down the stairs, looking completely closed off and miserable. he doesn’t look at anyone else in the room, his eyes are locked strictly on the back of your head.
“oh,” solana murmurs, looking between the two of you, instantly picking up on the tense energy between you. “okay. yeah, let’s go. let’s just go say bye to them.”
“okay, imma go find kyari.”
“ill come with you,” jermajesty says.
“haven’t you done enough already?” you turn to look at him.
he stays quiet, looking down at you. his lips getting caught in between his teeth.
you look away from him and turn around, starting to approach the party host.
“hey kee,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “we about to head out. just wanted to say goodnight.”
kyari looks over your shoulder for a second, catching the tense energy between you and jermajesty. “you good?”
you pause, then nod. “yeah. i’m good.”
he studies your face for a second like he doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t push. “cool. well… it was nice seeing you, pretty.”
“you gon call me?”
a small grin pulls at your lips. “i’ll think about it.”
“aii then,” he laughs. “i’ll take that.”
the fresh, cool night air hits your skin the second the front door swings open, instantly cutting off the suffocating bass of the house party.
jermajesty walks a few steps behind you and solana, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, shoulders tense under his grey hoodie. he leads the way to his car, his keys beeping in the quiet street as he unlocks it.
without saying a word, he steps up to the passenger side, pulling the door open for you. then, he reaches past you and pops the back door open for solana.
“oh?” solana gasped dramatically, walking past you. “look at you opening doors and everything.”
jermajesty looked at her, already annoyed. “can you get in the car, solana?”
“no, because i’m serious. what a gentleman,” she teased, sliding into the backseat. “who knew you had manners?”
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. you don’t say anything, just climbing into the passenger seat and staring straight ahead through the windshield, completely ignoring him.
jermajesty shuts your door and walks around the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat.
the drive started off quiet. the only sound was the low music playing through the speakers and the occasional turn signal cutting through the silence.
“so,” solana starts, her voice dripping with curiosity. she turned to you, nudging your shoulder. “what the fuck happened upstairs?”
“what?” you asked.
she scoffed. “babe, please. don’t do that.”
“you two disappear upstairs together, come back looking like somebody died, and now i’m supposed to sit in this car and act normal?”
“sol,” you warned.
“no, i’m just like confused,” she continued.
“and i’m not even trying to be messy, but i genuinely didn’t know you were still cool with kyari, j.”
you looked down at your hands. “yeah. i didn’t know either.”
jermajesty doesn’t even look in the rearview mirror. “we talk,” he mutters, his voice completely flat.
the silence stretched for a second.
then you sighed.
“honestly? that’s not even what annoyed me.”
solana leaned forward slightly. “what happened?”
you hesitated.
“that girl.”
“what girl?” solana asked.
“some girl, a blonde bitch.”
the car got quieter.
“shordy walked up and put her hands all over him like they were together.”
jermajesty’s grip on the steering wheel tightens even more. “i told you already, i’m not fucking with her. she was just doing too much.”
“right,” you scoff, looking out the passenger window at the passing streetlights. “can’t text me, but apparently have all that free time to talk to other girls.”
his eyebrows pulled together. “what are you talking about?”
“don’t even start this again jermajesty,” you roll your eyes, “i’m over it.”
“she walked up on me, you know me better than that.”
“do i?”
solana looks back and forth between the two of you, she turns her attention strictly to you again, lowering her voice a bit.
“anywho. wait, can we talk about kyari? are you actually gonna text him? because the way he was looking at you...baby, he was definitely trying to get up in there!!”
“i mean—”
before you can finish your answer, jermajesty cuts in, “she don’t needa text him.”
you snap your head around to glare at him, your blood instantly boiling. “who are you to tell me that?”
“i’m telling you,” jermajesty snaps back, finally cutting his eyes over to you for a split second. “nah, we not doing none of that.”
you scoff, “you’re so fucking corny, oh my god. like are you going to stop me?”
solana let out a deep sigh from the backseat.
“holy fuck.”
neither of you stopped.
“i’m not letting you play with some other nigga just to get back at me,” his voice rising as he stepped on the gas a little harder. “you know damn well what you’re doing.”
“you don’t get to decide who i talk to, jermajesty.”
“and you don’t think it’s weird that you saying this infront of me?”
“well you’re irrelevant so,” you laughed humorlessly. “don’t matter.”
“now i’m irrelevant, okay.”
“extremely,” you snap back.
jermajesty sighs loudly, “this is the shit you do—”
“okay!” solana finally interrupted. “forget it.”
both of you looked back.
“i’m done. seriously. y’all give me a headache. i’m sitting in the backseat like i’m watching love island or some shit.”
you and jermajesty both went quiet.
she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “both of y’all are annoying.”
jermajesty let out a rough breath, he ran a hand over his face, his eyes darting to the dashboard clock before catching solana’s annoyed expression in the rearview mirror.
“y’all hungry?” he finally uttered, his voice still low.
“starving,” solana sighed, not even hesitation in her voice. “and all this yelling just made me hungrier. take us to chick fil a.”
he flicked his turn signal on and pulled into the drive thru lane of the nearest 24 hour chick fil a, the silence in the car settling back over everyone.
a few seconds passed before he glanced over at you.
“what you want?”
you kept your eyes glued to the window, watching the red lights blur past. “nothing.”
his eyebrows pulled together slightly, but he didn’t call you out on it.
“sol, what you want?”
“a spicy deluxe chicken sandwich meal,” she answered easily, clearly not letting the tension ruin her appetite.
jermajesty nodded, turning back toward the speaker. he ordered her meal, your usual sandwich with extra fries, and a dr pepper. when he pulled up to the window, he handed over his card and paid for everything without a second thought.
the smell of salty fries filled the car. solana was already happily digging into her bag in the backseat, completely tuned out of the drama now that she had food.
fifteen minutes later, jermajesty pulled up to the curb in front of solana’s house.
“thanks for the food, jer,” solana said, wiping her hands on a napkin as she gathered her things. she leaned forward, giving your cheek a kiss. “text me when you get home, okay? and please don’t kill this man.”
“i’ll try,” you joked.
the door clicked shut, and then it was just the two of you again. the drive to your apartment was dead silent. jermajesty kept one hand on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the empty streets. you kept your gaze fixed out the window, the half eaten bag of food resting heavy in your lap.
the alcohol was wearing off now, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion. the adrenaline from the night, the arguing, everything you’d been holding in all week was finally catching up to you.
when he finally pulled up to your building, he put the car in park but left the engine running. for a long moment, neither of you moved. jermajesty sighed, reaching over to turn off the ignition.
the headlights cut out, he opened his door, the cool night air rushing in again, and walked around to the passenger side. he opened your door, standing there in the quiet night, looking down at you with those tired eyes.
you slowly stepped out of the car, clutching your purse and the leftover food bag to your chest. you looked up at him, taking in the way the soft curl of his hair peeked out, and the quiet tension still holding his shoulders stiff.
you hesitated for a second, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“are you...coming up?” you asked quietly.
jermajesty stares down at you, his dark eyes searching your face to see if you’re actually serious. for a second, he doesn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes.
“yeah,” he starts, his voice rough. “i’ll come up.”
he reaches into his pocket, clicking his key fob to lock the car. he doesn’t say another word as he follows you up the steps towards the elevator of your apartment building.
you can hear the steady thud of his sneakers right behind you, his shadow completely covering your back. when you reach your door, your hands are slightly shaking as you fumble with your keys.
you pull the door open, stepping into the quiet warmth of your apartment. you set the bag of food and your purse down on the kitchen table, kicking off your heels with a soft sigh of relief.
behind you, the door clicks shut. jermajesty locks it, crossing his arms over his chest. he just stands there in the dim light of your entry, his massive frame completely taking over the space.
and that’s the exact moment you remember why you always, always let him back in. it’s the way he looks at you. like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can save him. but more than that, it’s the way jermajesty talks when it’s just the two of you behind closed doors.
he has this effortless way with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you feel like the center of his entire universe. and then, of course, there’s the way he touches you. he knows your body better than you do, and he uses that knowledge like a weapon to make you fold every single time.
you can admit that you might just be a dummy, but at least you’re not a dummy for no reason.
he pushes off the door, taking those slow steps toward you. the anger you held onto so tightly in the car suddenly feeling very distant.
“what you tryna do?” he asks honestly. he stops right in front of you, the heat radiating off him immediately making you feel flushed.
he reaches out, his warm index finger gently tracing the line of your collarbone, right above the edge of your outfit. you shiver, your eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second.
“i’m still mad at you,” you whisper.
“i know baby” he breathes, his hands sliding down to cup your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your bare skin. “but i’m here, right? so let me make it up to you.”
“how?” you challenge, though your voice comes out barely above a whisper, looking up into his dark eyes. “how are you gonna make it up to me, jermajesty?”
his eyes darken, a smirk finally pulling at the corner of his lips. it’s the exact look that always gets you back in trouble. before you can even blink, his hands grip your hips tighter and he lifts you effortlessly.
your back hits the wall of your kitchen with a soft thud, the breath getting knocked out of your lungs just as his mouth crashes down onto yours.
your hands instantly fly up, grabbing handfuls of his hoodie to pull him even closer. you open your mouth for him, a soft, involuntary sound escaping your throat that makes him groan into the kiss.
his hands slide from your waist, gripping the back of your thighs and hitching your legs up around him. he carries you the short distance to the living room couch. he sits down heavily, pulling you right along with him so you’re straddling his lap.
his hands slide from your waist, gripping the back of your thighs and placing your legs on each side of his thighs, pinning you completely to him. the position is so intimate it makes your head spin.
he pulls his mouth away from yours, his breathing ragged and uneven. his lips begin trailing down the right side of your neck, his thumbs digging into the soft skin of your thighs as he holds you in place.
you tilt your head back, letting out a quiet gasp as his teeth lightly graze your pulse point.
he stops, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. “can i take this off?” his voice gentle.
you just nod, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck.
without breaking contact, his hand slides up the side of your body, finding the top button of your outfit. the fabric drags down slowly, the cool air hitting your chest before his warm hand cups you, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through the thin lace of your bra.
you squirm against him, your fingers clenching the fabric of his hoodie. jermajesty doesn’t waste a second. he lifts you up just enough to slide the red outfit down your arms and off your hips, tossing it onto the floor.
his eyes darken as he looks down at you in just your matching red lace underwear. he reaches down, grabbing your hand and guiding it to the waistband of his sweatpants. you quickly push them down his hips along with his boxers, letting him kick them off onto the floor.
he pulls you back down onto his lap, the friction of your bare skin rubbing together making you let out a soft whine. jermajesty breathes out slowly, his hands finding your hips to guide your movements as you slowly roll against him.
he slides his hand down between you, his long fingers finding your wetness. he strokes you slowly, his thumb applying pressure against your clit perfectly, making your back arch off his chest.
“i needa taste you mama,” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours, his fingers slick as he slides one inside you. “can i?”
“mhm,” you nod your head rapidly, your hips moving impatiently against his hand. “please.”
he pulls his hand away, sliding down off the couch to kneel on the floor between your thighs. his big hands grip your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the cushions so you’re completely open to him.
the heat of his breath hits your inner thigh first, making you shiver, before his mouth finally makes contact. the sensation is immediate and overwhelming.
jermajesty doesn’t rush, using his tongue in slow, deliberate motions that have your back instantly arching off the couch. your fingers tangle in his curls, holding him against you as a broken gasp escapes your lips.
his hands squeeze your thighs, keeping you steady as his pace quickens, his tongue swirling and pressing against you until your hips are moving frantically against his mouth.
“yes! just like that, maj,” you’re completely shaking, clinging to him as the tension builds tight in your chest. “p–please don’t stop baby.”
“you taste s’good, ma,” he mumbled against your core. “s’good for me.” his tongue slides over you again, even harder. his fingers sliding back inside you to mimic the rhythm of his mouth against you.
you cry out, your head rolling back against the couch cushions as your fingers tighten in his curls, pulling him as close as physically possible.
“jer—majesty, it’s too much—”
the tension in your chest snaps. your entire body goes still, your thighs clamping tightly around his head as your climax hits you in waves. jermajesty hums against you, holding you firm against his face, swallowing your whimpers as you ride out the release, your hips twitching weakly against his mouth.
he stays there for a quiet second, letting you breathe, his tongue giving you one slow swipe before he finally pulls back. he stands up, his breathing just as heavy as yours, looking down at your already fucked out expression.
his chin and lips are wet, his curls falling onto his forehead. he climbs back onto the couch, instantly crowding your space and forcing your knees apart.
his big hands slide under your thighs, draping them over his shoulders so you’re completely open to him again. he leans down, his chest pressing heavy against yours, his lips brushing the side of your neck.
he grips your hips, aligning himself, and slowly pushes himself inside you. the size of him makes you let out a high, shaky squeal, your toes curling.
jermajesty pauses, letting you adjust to his length, before his jaw clenches and he starts to move. he pushes in deeper, his hips rolling against yours with a slow and steady pace.
every time his hips sink fully against yours, a soft, breathless sound escapes your lips. he leans down further, his forehead resting against yours, his hot breath brushing your cheek.
“you take me so good, mama,” his voice soft almost desperate right against your ear. “s’tight for me. you feel so fucking perfect.”
you whimper, your hands clutching his shoulders, your nails digging into his forearms as his pace begins to quicken. his chest is solid and warm against yours, the friction of his movements sending heat rushing straight to your core.
“look at me,” he whispers, his thumb gently pressing against your chin to tilt your head back. “open your eyes, baby. let me see you.”
you open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry, locking into his gaze. he’s looking down at you with an intense focus, his jaw clenched as he drives into you, finding the perfect angle.
“this pussy mine, baby? hm?” he grunted, his voice dripping with that low, sweet tone that makes you completely helpless. “all this shit, just f’me?”
“yes, j,” you gasp out, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. “its yours—fuck—only yours.”
the way he was speaking to you, while looking right into your eyes was too much, completely sending you over the edge. “can i cum maj—oh plea—”
“mhm, go ahead, bae.”
the stars practically bursting behind your eyelids as your body tightens around him, another violent wave of a climax crashing over you. you cry out his name, your head rolling back as your walls squeeze him tightly.
giving you zero time to breathe, he slides his hands under your thighs and hooks them over his arms. in one smooth movement he stands up from the couch, lifting your entire weight off the cushions.
you let out a startled gasp, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck to secure yourself. your legs are locked tightly around his biceps, his hands coming down to grip your ass, the angle shift making him slide even deeper inside you.
“i got you, baby,” he breathed against your neck, he takes a step forward, holding you open. “we not done yet.”
he doesn’t wait, his hips immediately starting to drive upward into you again, holding you against his body as he fucks you right there, standing up.
your back hits the nearest wall as he carries you over, using his body weight to pin you there and give himself more leverage. every upward thrust of his hips lifts you slightly, your back sliding against the drywall.
you scream his name, your fingers dig desperately into his shoulders as he hits your spot over and over. the slick, wet sound of your bodies meeting echoes loudly in the quiet apartment.
jermajesty’s teeth sink lightly into the skin above your chest, his breath hot and ragged above your neck, a deep groan escaping his throat with every single push.
“j—jer, wait—” you pleaded out, the words completely losing their strength as he increases the pace, his grip on your thighs bruisingly tight to keep you held up.
he doesn’t slow down. his movements turn frantic and desperate, his chest heaving heavily against yours. you can feel him fucking you to your limit, the heat building up so much heat between your thighs that it’s almost unbearable.
he feels you tightening around him again, your inner muscles begin fluttering around his length. “you gonna cum f’me?” he purred against your ear, his pace turning ruthless, driving hard and fast.
your vision goes entirely dark, your head shaking side to side as you lose all control, your body shuddering violently around him.
jermajesty lets out a raw hiss into your neck, his body stiffening completely as he drives deep one last time, holding himself inside you as he releases, his hot weight pressing you flat against the wall.
“shit.”
he holds you there for what feels like an eternity, both of your chests heaving in sync against the wall. his grip on your thighs slowly softens, but he doesn’t let you down yet, keeping you against him as the trembling in your legs gradually subsides.
after a couple of minutes, jermajesty slowly lets out a long, shuddering breath. he lifts his head from your shoulder, his face is completely stripped of all the anger and tension from earlier tonight.
“you good?” he smiles, you can only nod, your throat too dry to form actual words. your arms are still wrapped loosely around his neck, your head resting back against the drywall.
he lets out a chuckle at your silence. slowly, carefully, he slides his arms out from under your thighs, letting your feet find the floor.
your knees instantly buckle, but jermajesty’s big hands are already on your waist, catching your weight easily and pulling you flush against his chest so you don’t fall.
“catch your breath, baby,” his voice deep against your cheek. “i’m gonna go grab us some towels.”
he kisses the top of your head before slowly letting you go. you stretch your legs, your body still tingling and completely exhausted in the best way possible.
as he walks toward the bathroom, his bare shoulders relaxed, you slowly make your way back toward the kitchen table where you left your purse and the food.
you pick your phone up, squinting at the brightness. there are five missed calls and a flood of messages fifteen minutes ago from solana. your heart drops slightly, your thumb quickly sliding to unlock the screen.
solii 💖☀️: girl, are you home?
solii 💖☀️: answer my callls
solii 💖☀️: please tell me you didn’t let jermajesty over
🍫Summary: After convincing Michael to be a little rougher in the bedroom, he wants to try something new aswell.
Michael was slowly understanding the way you liked things in the bedroom. The grasp on your curls to pull, digging deep in you from behind, the vulgar words he whispered about filling you up.
Don’t get it wrong, he’s still as hesitant as day one but he’s doing a bit better. You would still let him have his gentle nights of course, where he would gently press gentle kisses on your forehead, hands slowly rubbing up your body while he’d move slow and deep inside of you.
And then your nights, where he would leave a large handprint on your ass, whispering about how you take his dick so well, and pressing you down when you try to run. You loved every bit of it.
Michael being his usual curious self, ended up stumbling on a sex article. Flipping through the pages, he lingered on a specific one. “The Art Of Squirting.” He didn’t sleep till he read each and every word. Twice. He was a bit nervous to bring it up to you but he needed to try it.
“Mama.” He whispered during a slow night, bringing his hips to a still inside of you. “Yes, Mikey?” You panted, eyes fluttering open. “Can I try something new?”
Your brow raised, Michael wasn’t one to naturally step out of his comfort zone unlike you, so this came as a surprise. “What is it, baby?”
He pulled out of you, and you slightly pouted feeling the loss. “I want to make you….um,” his cheeks seemed flush and he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “squirt.” He shrugged, seeing there was no other way to say it.
Your eyes widened, out of all things you thought he was gonna say it wasn’t gonna be that. “You know it can get…messy, right?” You warned him. “I don’t even know if I can squirt.”
You never considered it, you already had the smallest fear that you’ll accidentally pee instead. “I know but look I’ll get towels.” Before you could say anything, he hopped up grabbing the towels from the laundry room.
You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t excited. Michael was a perfectionist so you know he won’t stop till he figures out every spot.
He finally came back with two white towels, spreading them across the bed. “Okay, ready?” He asked with a sheepish smile.
You nodded, and laid flat on your back, lifting your legs in the air. His eyes dropped to your wet pussy, your folds were glistening from the previous activity.
He fell to his knees, taking your thick thighs in his hands. “Okay, it’s gonna feel like too much but you have to let me keep going, okay?” He warned.
You nodded, understanding what he meant. Now are you gonna listen is the real question.
He left wet kisses along your plump thighs, sucking occasionally. You felt his breath along your core making your hips subconsciously buck up.
“Relax, mama.” He whispered, arm coming to drape across your tummy to hold you down. His tongue found your clit, stroking it gently at first.
Your eyes fluttered shut as small moans filled the room. Your hand reached to grab his curls as your back arched. He flattened his tongue licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit before sucking it into his mouth.
One thing he knows how to do is eat. He’ll stay there all day if you let him. His tongue worked generously along your slit, swirling your arousal and his spit around.
His hands came up to push your thighs closer towards you, spreading you out more. “Damn, slow down.” You moaned feeling as if he only got hungrier.
His tongue picked up speed, flicking rapidly against the clit before he eased inside of your wet hole. “Oh shit!” You gasped, fingers gripping the sheets.
He’s usually a gentle eater but he must be pretty darn committed. He groaned inside of your pussy, fingers pressing into your skin. He held you down with the lean muscle he had, making sure you couldn’t move.
Your toes curled in the air as your eyes rolled back. He was truly tearing you up in that moment. He thrusted his tongue in and out of you, studying your reaction.
He was rock hard to be honest but his body was itching to feel you gush over him. “I-I’m cumming.” You panted, trying to pull his head away from your core.
His mouth moved to suck on your clit, sliding two fingers in. Before you knew it was shoving them in and out as fast as he could. You would’ve thought a vibrator was inside of you the way he moaned against your clit while fucking you with his fingers.
You wailed, body jerking as you creamed on his fingers. Instead of slowing down, he didn’t stop. Wet squelching sounds came from your pussy as he only continued to piston his fingers in, sucking your clit and coming off of it with a pop repeatedly.
“M-Michael, I can’t.” You cried, back arching. He pulled off of your clit, faint string of saliva connecting it with his tongue. “Yes you can, mama. Be good for me, okay?”
Before you could respond he went right back to it, slurping up your clit and moaning sending vibrations through you. You’re sobbing at this point, trying to catch your breath which was quickly escaping.
He curled his fingers inside you, calculating where your g-spot would be. You couldn’t even see the gears turning in his head, all you could feel was the overwhelming pleasure going through you.
“I need you to squirt in my mouth, baby.” He mumbled. He replaced his mouth with his thumb, quickly rubbing your clit in circles. His fingers didn’t stop as stood up to kiss your lips.
His tongue slid in, swirling against yours. You struggled to kiss back, mouth not being able to even close properly. “You close?” He whispered and you nodded, placing your hands on his shoulders.
“M-Michael.” You whimpered, thighs closing around his arm. It didn’t phase him at all, he only got back on his knees and used his free hand to spread you back open.
Who would’ve thought your nice and gentle husband, would have you crying and moaning like a dog in heat?
“You’re soaking, mama.” He smiled watching the small splashes from your arousal come out with every thrust. If he had his fingers in any longer they might just prune up.
He continued to curl his fingers, burying to the hilt. You slowly felt the push against your hole, and your hand shot out to grab his arm. Once again it didn’t affect anything, he only continued to fuck his fingers inside of you.
His mouth enclosed around your clit, gently sucking on it as his digits were anything but gentle. Your legs shook quickly, and his eyes widened seeing the signs of the upcoming orgasm.
“Give it me, mama, squirt for me.” He said with a kiss on your clit. “Michaellll,” you cried as a stream shot out of you. Your vision flashed white as your hearing disappeared for the smallest second and Michael watched in admiration.
He felt the stream hit his collarbone, arms, and fingers. He watched as the squirt dripped onto the floor and he pulled his fingers out quickly licking up your slit.
“PLEASE!” You cried trying to push his head away. He grabbed your wrists and held them in one of his hands as he sucked on your pussy.
You were so sensitive but it still felt so good. “I-I squirted already.” You whimpered, thighs still shaking. “I’m sorry, baby, I need more.” He whispered diving back in.
