content: inspired by taylor swift’s dress (all credits to her! this is made just for fun <3)
warnings: angst, reader is a global icon, reader is also inspired by taylor swift during reputation era. mentions of anxiety, pain, and panic. let’s js pretend social media was already a thing during the 90s LMAO
author’s note: this is my first time writing after SOOOOO MANY YEAAAARS so pUHLEAAASEE BE KIND … 🥹 lmk if this should have a part 2 or what …
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
King of Pop, Michael Jackson. That was his title. Michael had fans all over the world, yet he stayed very humble. That made him even more famous. His kindness, understanding, and love for people and his work made him a living legend, which was his reputation.
After forging his path, he was dedicated to spreading his mission— to spread love through his music because he believes that music brings people together. Love was his message.
He was the man who sold out stadiums, broke records, and inspired generations. Wherever he went, crowds followed. Millions knew his name, his songs, and his signature moonwalk.
But behind the fame was simply Michael.
A man who loved creating music in the middle of the night. A man who found joy in making people smile. A man who believed that kindness cost nothing yet meant everything.
Despite being admired by millions, Michael was no stranger to loneliness. Fame came with a price. Every move he made became a headline. Every word he spoke was analyzed. The world knew Michael Jackson, but very few knew Michael the person.
And there’s Y/N.
Y/N has already established her name in the industry. From being a countryside singer to a global icon. Her songs always top the Billboard 100, winning multiple grammy’s, sold out shows, every singer's dream, she has it. Their fantasy is Y/N’s reality. She is young and passionate. But her life is not always glitz and glam. She has to pay for the fame she has right now.
In this industry, being unliked is not new. Well, not everyone would love your music, right? But for Y/N, it’s different. Some people love her music, some people don’t— or they just don’t really like her. Headlines, controversies, and scandals were linked to her.
“Y/N, the Global Icon was seen in public with a new guy after her break up!”
People talked about her as if she were not real anymore. As if the girl beneath the headlines is deceased and is someone they could just criticize. She was linked to a lot of guys; some were true, the majority were rumors. Rumors her so-called friends made to bring her down. It was unfair. So unfair.
She was criticized for writing many songs for her ex-boyfriends. Every song she releases is like a game for the public, guessing whose ex-boyfriend this new song is dedicated to. She became a joke, a laughing stock, and was labeled as a snake.
“Have you heard Y/N’s new song? I bet it’s about her new boyfriend again!”
“Every song she writes is about her ex-boyfriend. No wonder no guy stays with her!”
“She deserve every hate she gets, to be honest”
Every word thrown was like a knife, sharp, deadly. Y/N would be lying if she says it’s not affecting her; because it does. She might say she doesn’t care but deep down, it hurts her. Y/N couldn’t understand why people hate her, is it because of her music? her face? or they just really loathe her as a person?
The room was silent except for the faint hum of the television in the background.
Y/N sat on the floor of her bedroom, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She knew she should stop reading the comments. She knew she should put the phone down and walk away.
Yet she couldn’t. One comment became ten. Ten became a hundred.
Snake.
Attention seeker.
Slut.
Manipulator.
Each word blurred together until she could no longer tell where one ended and another began. Her eyes drifted toward the mirror across the room. For a moment, she stared at her reflection.
The same face that appeared on magazine covers. The same face that thousands of fans screamed for every night. The same face people seemed to hate so much.
Slowly, she stood and walked toward the mirror.
“Am I really the problem?” she whispered.
The question lingered in the empty room.
No answer came.
Only silence.
Y/N let out a shaky laugh and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Y/N was currently on her couch, rotting while eating a tub of ice cream. She was watching her comfort show, when her phone suddenly rang, it was Pam, her manager.
“Hey, what’s up?” she lazily answered.
“Uh, don’t what’s up me girl, i’m your manager” Y/N laughed with the sassiness of her tone. “You’re invited to a charity gala”
“Yeah right, they haven’t seen those nasty tweets and scandals about me, yeah?”
“They have, and they don’t believe a single thing about it” Y/N wanted to believe. Believe that people still see her as a good person, but with all the lies she sees on the internet? It was hard.
“Whatever. I’m not going.”
“You are, Y/N. I already contacted brands for your attire”
“Why should I? the media would just eat me alive and ask some stupid questions”
“Y/N, the media may hate you, but your fans don’t. Do this for the people who love and support you. Plus, who cares? Fuck the media. We both know the truth.” Her manager spoke, “Plus, this is the best time to clean your slate. Show the motherfucking world who the hell Y/N Y/L/N is”
She can’t help but to smile. Her manager is right, a lot of people still support her despite the scandals and controversies. It’s killing her, having to show up in front of dozens and dozens of journalists and photographers. The flashing, the uncomfortable questions, and the worst part, the judging stares.
But she will still do it, she’s gonna show everyone that she is not who the people and the media dictate who she is.
Charity Gala Day arrived. She was inside the limousine for the last 10 minutes, anxiety creeping her whole body. She was wearing the famous Chanel Black Chain Dress. It fit her like a glove, matching with her gold accessories and black high heels.
She was inside the limo, panicking, overthinking what the reporters would ask her and how the people would look at her. She was breathing heavily, cold sweats dropping from her forehead.
“Pam, I really can’t… I’m so afraid of what the media would say to me…” She said, hyperventilating.
“Y/N, look at me.” She forced her eyes on Pam.
“You’ve already performed in front of people. Thousands of people, to be exact.”
“T-That’s different…”
“How?”
“W-Well… They loved me…”
Pam, her manager’s gaze softened. She can feel Y/N’s pain and anxiety. She has been Y/N’s manager for years but this is the first time she saw her really break down.
“Then think about the people who love you. Think about the people who believe in you. The ones who streamed your songs, bought tickets to your shows, and the ones who defended your name when you couldn’t.”
Y/N swallowed hard. Pam held her chin and made her look at her in the eyes,
“You are not your rumors. You are not the headlines. And most definitely, you are not those idiots spreading fake news about you. They are just jealous because you’re talented, amazing, and beautiful.”
Y/N smiled. A genuine smile.
“Now, go in there, and remind us, who the fuck is Y/N Y/L/N.”
Pam’s words really did encourage her. She took one last deep breath and nodded. She’s going to face the cameras, and prove that no one can bring her down. The chauffeur opened the limo, and immediately, the cameras exploded in front of her.
“Y/N, over here!”
“Y/N smile for me, darling!”
“Are the headlines true?! Who’s your new man?!”
“Any comments about your scandals?”
Her chest tightened. The noise was overwhelming her. Questions being thrown at her from every direction. Some are harmless, some are harsh.
She kept her head up and smiled brightly, not stopping from walking.
“Just smile and wave, Y/N” she told herself.
She smiled so brightly, the cameras didn’t notice she was pretending. Then suddenly, the crowd became louder.
Not because of her, but because someone just arrived. The reporters rushed towards the entrance, the photographers turned their cameras away from her, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t the center of all attention.
She let out a big sigh, glad that the attention is not on her anymore, yet curious, so she turned her head to see who’s coming.
It was none other than Michael Jackson.
The crowd surrounded him, yet he carried himself with effortless calmness. He smiled and waved at every reporter and photographer, greeting them with the warmness he was known for.
Y/N was expecting him to walk past her. I mean, who is she besides Michael Jackson? But, she was wrong. As Michael made his way towards the entrance, he noticed her immediately. His glance landed on her softly, as their eyes met. Y/N sensed comfort in his eyes. He was looking at her with kindness.
No assumptions, No judgement. Nothing.
And somehow, that startled her more than the cameras ever could.
in which peter parker runs into lara jean in new york city during move in day, they collide and fall into each other arms. a love story of happening to meeting each other at the right time.
tags & warnings!: strangers to friends to lovers, characters are of age, MASSIVE yearning, mature language, miscommunication at some point, she falls first but he falls harder, some angst sorrrry, english major lara, engineer major peter, peter isn't spider man in this universe, didn't proofread whoops, slow burn, might missed some typos forgive me <3
chapters ♡ ⑅˚₊ one | incoming (loading)
word count: 1,659 !
Of course of all the things that could happen of course Lara Jean got lost.
She's been there for ten minutes and of course she got lost in New York City. After Lara Jean got off the plane after a very long ride from Portland, Oregon she couldn't contain her excitement. She was finally here. She wasn't sure of where she wanted to go to school, she wanted to follow her boyfriend, Peter Kavinsky to Stanford University but luckily her older sister Margot told her that decision was a bit unwise and she's ever so gracious she listened.
During prom night Lara and Peter got into a heated argument and had ended their relationship. Naturally Lara was devastated. They lasted all of high school and has been through so much together and for all of it to end just like that? Lara didn't even think she could be okay after all of that.
Through it all she was very grateful for her sister and her friends. After so many cries and so many tubs of ice cream she felt okay. Yes she misses Peter but it's just not meant to be. She can't spend her life missing him, he's not doing the same so why should she?
After searching frantically for her phone that was lost in her bag she found it. She needed to call her dad, Margot, and Kitty, but first she needs to figure out where the hell she was going.
Lara began to start walking hoping that the directions on her phone would start to make sense. Excitement began to fuel her in ways she couldn't describe. This is her start to something new. A new chapter in her life, nothing was going to get in her way.
Well something got in her way.
Lara collided with the ground and dropped her belongings everywhere. She's not even sure what happened but the pain that she felt in her head felt a little too intense for her liking. She opened her eyes in anger but unexpectedly the anger drifted away at the sound of a voice.
"I'm so so sorry!"
Lara opened her eyes, her vision blurred due to the massive headache that started to brew. Once it was settled she locked eyes upon by one of the cutest guys she's seen. The features that stood out to her the most was his floppy brown hair and the little twinkle he had in his eyes. Her eyes traveled down and saw he as well as her dropped all of his belongings as well.
"Let me help you!"
Lara pulled herself together to help the stranger with his things but he immediately stopped her, "No let me help you first."
He quickly grabbed her bag and her phone as well as other items, he placed them into his hands and then proceeded to pick up his own things. Lara was in awe with how sweet the guy was.
"Thank you so much, and I'm sorry it's my fault I should have paid attention to where I was going."
The stranger shook his head, "No it's my fault I wasn't looking where I was going as well."
Just as Lara was about to speak, he immediately looked stressed as he checked his phone, "Shit I'm gonna be late, I'm really sorry it was nice meeting you!" And with that he started to run away in the opposite direction.
He was too cute ..
Lara mentally cursed herself for not asking for his name sooner, accepting that they wouldn't meet again. New york was huge the percentage of them meeting again was too low for her liking but what could she do? She didn't even know his name.
Lara's phone began to vibrate and saw her father's contact name light up the screen, "Hi dad!" she beamed. She was happy to hear from her father. "Dad i'm lost. Yes i'm using the gps. And no it's not helping."
Hours after searching through the city and uber finally finding a ride, Lara Jean found herself on the NYC campus and she couldn't have been more happier. She made way to the main room to get her dorm keys. After meeting one of the office ladies, she gave Lara her key and then took her around for a quick tour so that she wouldn't get lost on her first day.
"This is your room! You'll love it here at NYU!"
Lara beamed she couldn't wait that she already started fumbling with her dorm keys. "I got to run but if you have any questions you can find me in the office."
Mrs Carol (Lara found out her name during the tour), waved goodbye, and she was just left by herself. Well by herself and an awesome view of the campus.
Lara Jean's dorm reminded her of an apartment building. Had a shared living room space with two bedrooms on each side. There was a massive window giving her the perfect view of the campus. She couldn't contain her excitement. Pulling out her phone she took pictures to send to her sisters and her father as well as her best friend, Chris. Lara remembered that Chris's cousin, Gwen is also attending NYU and she made a quick mental note to say hi whenever she saw her on campus.
She wanted this fresh start, no she needed this fresh start.
Forgetting everything of the past, she had nothing and no one to derail any plans and goals she made for herself.
Lara glanced at the time in her phone and started to realize how late it was. If I want to be done with this in time for bed I should start now ..
Time flew by as she unpacked all of her belongings, perfectly placing all of her knickknacks and trinkets. She had just finished hanging all of her fairy lights when she heard the door unlock, Must be my new roommate.
Lara walked closer to the living room excited to meet the person she'll be living with for the next couple of months. The door cracks open and she greeted by a face she never though she would be seeing.
"Gen?"
Lara Jean's former high school frenemy, Gen. Gen and Lara have very interesting history to put it simple. And now they would be sharing a dorm together, Yay ..
It's not that Lara has a problem with Gen (Anymore), It's just awkward now. Both ex girlfriends of Peter Kavinsky, and neither of them are truly friends. Maybe that would change?
"Lara? Wow hi! I can't believe we're roommates!" Gen walked over to hug Lara and Lara slightly hesitated hugging the other back.
"Would you mind helping me with my things? I brought a lot."
"Yeah of course!"
Now hours have gone by and any doubt that Lara had about Gen quickly vanished. Without realizing it the two found themselves getting into a groove. After Gen unpacked all of her things, the two decided to put on a movie, 13 going on 30, a classic Lara boosted about. Watching movies, wearing face masks, gossiping about their shared ex, and eating pizza. A perfect way to end her first day in New York.
Lara Jean was starting to feel at home already.
𝜗ৎ
Peter Parker was late.
As he usually was.
Peter promised his Aunt May that he would be on time for an (unpaid) internship interview that she vouched him for. She specifally told Peter to not be late and he swore he wouldn't be.
How was he supposed to know he would run into a cute girl?
There was just something about her, Peter thought. She had such a calm relaxing aura to her. He wanted to know more about her. Learn things about her. If only he had gotten her name.
As Peter walked into the office building he sadly settled for what might as well be written in the stars.
Peter walks up to the front desk informing the man about his interview, After waiting for two mintues the man signals that Peter can follow him.
"Hey May, they said we'll be in touch."
"Okay kiddo I hope you get it, but even if you don't just know that I'm very proud of you."
"Thanks," Peter smiled at hearing his aunt's voice. Ever since he graduated high school he moved out with his best friend, Ned. The two of them bought an apartment together with the money that they saved. Is it the best apartment? No, but it has everything that they need.
The keys jiggled in the lock of the cramped Queens apartment, and Peter pushed the door open with his shoulder, balancing a greasy paper bag of chinese takeout in one hand. The familiar, comforting hum of the refrigerator greeted him, alongside the sight of Ned hunched over his laptop at their mismatched dining table, surrounded by loose wires and empty soda cans.
"Hey dude how was it?"
Peter placed down the food on the dining room table,"It was fine I don't think I'll get it though", he removed his jacket, throwing it on the couch.
"Don't say that you never know." Ned opens up the takeout bag looking at the contents of what's inside. "Nice you got Lo mien awesome! I was craving that."
Peter laughed at his friend as he took out some plates from the kitchen cabinet, "What did you do today? Did you spend it all inside?"
"Yeah I had to. Classes start next week and professors are already uploading the syllabus and on top of that homework. I spent the entire day locking in." Ned and Peter are now plumb down in the living room eating on the couch, not really playing attention so whatever is on the tv.
"Shit that means mine are posted too."
After some shared comfortable silence as they ate their dinner, the duo began to clean up a little bit. Peter washing the dishes as Ned tidied up the living room.
Ned asked, "Besides the interview, what else happened?"
Peter's mine drifted off to the girl he briefly met. He remembered how her eyes just naturally light up without even trying.
"I ran into this girl," As Peter spoke Ned interrupted him.
"A girl? Finally! I thought you would never get over Mj."
Peter had dated one of his closest friends in high school, Mary Jane, but she insisted she was referred to as Mj. Both of them had a mutual crush on each other and decided to give the relationship a shot.
They quickly realized that they were not compatible in the slightest.
They're still friends but it's not what it used to be.
"I am over Mj." Peter shot Ned a playful glare. "There's just something so interesting about this girl. I wish I got her name I'm such an idiot."
"Wait I'm confused tell me everything."
Peter goes into details about everything that happened earlier that day. Them bumping into each other, describing what the unknown girl looks like, and how he'll never know her name.
"Don't say that you'll meet this girl again." Ned comforted his friend.
"I doubt it, you know how big New York is?"
"What if she goes to NYU?"
Peter paused to contemplate that question, "I would have seen her by now. It's fine. I've made peace with it."
"Dude you're such a loser."
𝜗ৎ
The hushed, harmonic sound of Gen’s breathing filled the quiet room, a contrast to the distant, on going sleeping hum of the city outside their window. Lara Jean stared up at the ceiling, where the faint glow of her freshly hung fairy lights cast delicate shadows across the walls. For the first time in a while, the excitement of moving faded into stillness, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She automatically reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over her messages before she remembered. There was a sweet "goodnight" text from her dad, updates about middle school drama from Kitty, and a link about "Fun Things to do in NYC" from Margot. But no texts from Peter. There was no 'Goodnight, Covey' waiting for her.
No text to look forward to.
She began to feel empty.
Bare.
For the first time in months, that realization didn't leave a heavy, hollow ache in her chest. It just felt like a closed book.
A book that even though Lara knew like the back of her hand, if opened would leave a permeant paper cut.
The credits of 13 Going on 30 were rolling silently on the television screen. Gen was already fast asleep on the other end of the couch, a dried green clay mask tight on her face.
Lara Jean sat quietly, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring out at the city lights. The lingering scent of pepperoni pizza made the unfamiliar room feel a little more like home.
As Lara shut off her phone, her mind started to travel back to the boy she met from the sidewalk. His adorable floppy brown hair. He seemed so sincere and apologetic.
Lara Jean smiled to herself, resting her chin on her knees. She had always been a romantic, a girl who wrote secret love letters to the boys she loved before. And when the feelings became too much for her? She wrote.
Lara quietly walked over to her room, not wanting to wake up her roommate.
The floorboards didn't squeak, which was a relief. She slipped inside and gently closed the door behind her. On her new desk sat a new, leather-bound journal Margot had bought her as a parting gift alongside all of Lara's stationary belongings. “For your New York thoughts,” Margot had told her.
Lara Jean sat down, unscrewing the cap of her favorite pink gel pen. For a long time, writing was how she survived heartbreak. But tonight, as she pressed the pen to the crisp white paper, she realized she hasn't wroten a letter in years. Feeling a bit unfamiliar, her pen began to move as if it was muslve memory. Letting any feelings she had or thoughts take over.
Dear cute Boy from the Sidewalk,
I don't know your name, and in a city of over eight million people, I’ll probably never see you again. But thank you for breaking my fall today.
Literally.
You had the kindest eyes, and even though you were running late, you made sure I was okay first.
My sister Margot says everything happens for a reason.
Maybe running into you was just New York's way of telling me that there are still sweet, unexpected things waiting out there in the world. I hope you made it to wherever you were rushing to on time.
She smiled, letting the ink dry before closing the journal. She didn't feel bare or empty anymore. She felt expectant. Lara ripped the page from her journal, carefully, she slipped the tip of her fingers along the edge of the paper and neatly ripped the page from the binding. She then placed the letter in the envelope. It remained unnamed and with no address. A secret message meant for the universe, and the boy who she shall never see again.
Lara Jean crawled into her new bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. As her eyes finally grew heavy, her mind drifted between a past she was finally letting go of, and a future she couldn't wait to meet. She'll make the best of New York.
Thank you so so so MUCH for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! I am making this a series so please stayed tuned! Also thank you again from everyone that came from tiktok, the sweet comments encouraged me to keep writing.
cute little blurb with jaafar where reader takes care of him after he’s all sore from rehearsals please !
THE FIRST THING you noticed when Jaafar walked through the door was the way he tried very hard to pretend that every inch of his body isn't hurting.
He still smiled and asked about your day, but every movement was just a little too careful. He let out a low wince as he took off his hoodie, quietly stretching one shoulder before he realized you've seen it.
"You okay?" you asked.
"Yes." He gave you one of those beautiful smiles of his. "Just rehearsal."
You gave him the look.
"It was a long rehearsal," he admitted.
Not even five minutes later, he was pouting dramatically as you made him sit down on the couch.
"I'm fine, " he insisted.
"And yet you can't lift your own arm without making a face."
"I did not make a face."
"You absolutely did."
He muttered something under his breath as you disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a heating pad and your favorite lotion. The second you told him to lean forward, he obeyed without another argument.
"You're bossy," he mumbled.
"You love it."
"A lot."
Your fingers worked slowly across the tight muscles in his shoulders, careful but firm. He let out the quietest sigh, the kind he probably hadn't even realized he'd been holding in all day.
"Better?"
"Don't stop."
You laughed softly.
"I've heard that before."
"Don't bully me right now. I'm in pain."
By the time you were finished, he had practically melted against you—his head resting in your lap while the heating pad lay across his back. His eyes were closed, completely exhausted from spending the day rehearsing, chasing every tiny movement until his body had finally begged him to quit.
"You know," you murmured, running your fingers through his soft curls, "taking care of yourself is part of the job too."
"I know."
"Right."
"I do."
He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"Can you remind me tomorrow?"
"Always."
He smiled without opening his eyes and reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
Somewhere between the movie playing quietly in the background and the warmth of the heating pad, he fell asleep before either of you noticed—finally letting himself rest because, for once, someone else was taking care of him.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” the words purred from your lips.
“B-baby, please…” were the only words he’d been able to mutter ever since you’d convinced him to let you suck his cock.
Michael hadn’t liked the idea of it. He believed it was incredibly degrading toward women, especially since the woman who’d be doing it was the paid nanny for his kids.
“Oh, please, Mike! You’ve eaten me out, haven’t you?” You rolled your eyes at him.
He stood on the other side of the kitchen island, watching you as you whipped up batter for one of the kids’ birthdays.
“Fine,” he sighed, finally giving in to your suggestion, though still questioning his decision as he walked away, taking a bite of his apple.
And there you both were.
He sat on the edge of his bed that evening, his hands gripping the sheets tightly enough to wrinkle them beneath his fingers.
His eyes fluttered shut as your sultry voice murmured against the bare skin of his neck.
“You’re such a good daddy.”
A kiss was pressed against his collarbone, leaving a faint mark. One hand tugged his shirt open to expose more skin, while the other remained occupied, slowly stroking his cock, your thumb occasionally teasing the sensitive tip.
You began unbuttoning his shirt as you continued.
“Oh…” he gasped, looking down as your kisses wandered dangerously lower across his bare skin.
“Such a good role model.”
“So nice… so thoughtful.”
Your praise sent him over the edge.
You settled onto your knees, never once stopping the slow strokes along his cock.
“W-we could j-just… w-wait—”
He was cut off by the sudden warmth of your mouth taking him in completely.
The sensation sent sparks racing down his spine, making him even more vocal as you sucked him while your hands continued their steady rhythm.
“Oh, God…” he whimpered, his back arching.
You pulled back just enough to focus on his flushed tip, licking over it as precum gathered and dripped onto your still moving hands.
“P-princess… m’gonna come,” he moaned, his mouth falling open into a soft “O.”
A devious smile spread across your face as you bit your lower lip before taking him into your mouth once again.
The combination of your mouth and hands had him nearly lifting off the bed.
“D-don’t wanna c-cum in your mouth… p-please.”
His hand gently tugged at your hair, trying to pull you back, but you refused.
Your pace quickened by the minute until he cried out loudly, instinctively pushing your head deeper onto his cock. His fingers tangled in your hair, making you mewl softly at the sudden pressure.
Oh, but how you loved every second of it.
With one final needy thrust into your drooling mouth, his entire body gave in. Warm release filled your mouth as a little escaped from the corners of your lips.
He jerked upward once more before collapsing flat onto his back.
You released him with a soft pop! before slowly climbing on top of him, looking into his eyes.
Still trying to steady his breathing, Michael gazed up at you.
“No…” he whispered.
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed his release before smiling, your plush lips meeting his in a slow kiss.
He melted into it before finally pulling away to catch his breath.
“You nasty mama,” he laughed breathlessly before pulling you close.
Your head rested against his heaving chest, and you drifted off to sleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
ame’s notes : guys what the hell 300+ followers is INSANE. A big long kiss for all of you! MMWAAH! 💋
also…might make nanny!reader x mature!Michael a series. had so much fun writing this!!
cookies & cream | jaafar jackson x blackfem!reader
description - you were craving a sweet treat before you went to bed and jaafar was craving one as well, but a different type of sweet treat.
warning - making out, oral (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, use of whipped cream, use of baby, use of mama
it was 11 going on 12 in the morning and you were in the kitchen making cookies cause you were craving a late night snack. after you put the cookies in the oven, you were cleaning the dishes you used and jaafar came into the kitchen wearing pajama pants that slightly showcased the band of his boxers. he wasn't wearing a shirt which displayed his toned muscular body and caramelized skin.
“baby why aren’t you in bed?” jaafar asked. he came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. you could tell that he had just gotten out of the shower because you could smell his body wash and scented lotion that he always used. the scent of it always made you melt whether you were in his presence or not.
“i wanted something sweet before i went to bed.” you responded. you rinsed off the last dish in the sink. “did you want some of the cookies i made?” you asked. “no, im good.” he softly kissed your cheek. “and as much as i love your cookies, im tryna eat a different type of cookie.” a light giggle escaped your mouth as you realized what he meant by that. you turned around to face jaafar, wrapping your arms around his neck. he had that type of smirk on his face letting you know what he was in the mood for. “you can have that type of cookie after i have my cookie, is that okay with you?” you asked him. he gave you a nod and gave your waist a firm squeeze.
you heard the timer go off for the cookies and you grabbed the oven mitt walking towards the oven. jaafar leaned back against the counter and watched your every move. the shorts you were wearing had caught his attention, due to your ass slightly jiggling in them with every move you made. he licked his bottom lip thinking about how good your ass looked in them.
as you opened the oven and bent down to grab the pan, your shorts rose up to where the bottom of your ass cheeks were fully exposed. jaafar couldn't contain himself and came up behind you and gave your ass a smack. the smack caught you off guard, which made you almost drop the pan of cookies. you turned around and playfully slapped his chest.
“jaafar, you almost made me drop the pan!” you said as you placed the pan on the counter to let the cookies cool down. jaafar chuckled as he walked towards the fridge. “im sorry, your ass just looks so good in those shorts. im glad i bought those for you.” you rolled your eyes as you went to grab a bowl out of the cabinet. “and while you’re looking in the fridge can you bring me the ice cream and whipped cream please?”
he nodded, grabbed what you asked for, and placed it next to your bowl. “are you sure you don't want any?” you asked, looking at him. “yes im sure. im just waiting on my own treat.” jaafar stood behind you closely to where you could feel his chest against your back. he began to place soft kisses on your shoulder leading a trail up to behind your ear.
he grabbed your waist pulling you closer to him. a small gasp left your mouth as you felt your ass being pressed against his dick. he slid one hand from your waist down to your pussy gripping cupping it in his hand. you could feel yourself getting wet and jaafar could too. your cheeks were beginning to heat up and you grabbed jaafars wrist. you turned to fully face him. “jaafar.” “hmm?” “you just can't wait can you?”
“i am waiting, but i don't see you stopping me.” you cupped his face with your hands and pecked his lips a few times. “i mean… i guess you can have your treat now while i wait for mines to cool down.” jaafar wasted no time crashing his lips against yours. the kiss started off slow at first and started to get slightly intense. he pulled back and the same smirk from earlier returned to his face.
“what?” you were suspicious of why he was smirking once again. “i wanna try something.” he grabbed the can of whipped cream and popped the top off. he grabbed your jaw softly, tilting your head back a little. “open your mouth for me baby.” you opened your mouth without hesitation and he sprayed a generous amount of whipped cream onto your tongue. before you could even close your mouth to swallow it, jaafar placed the can back onto the counter and crashed his mouth onto yours.
he began to tongue you down and you moaned into the kiss completely shocked at what he just did. both of yall’s tongues wrestled against each other eating the whipped cream. he picked you up effortlessly and placed you onto the countertop, the cold surface of it making you gasp. he slipped one hand into your shorts and placed the pad of his middle finger against your clit and started rubbing your clit in small circles. a soft moan left your mouth and jaafar could feel you getting wetter by the second. his other hand was gripping your thigh and you began to roll your hips into his hand.
he pulled back from the kiss and looked at you. “can i have my treat now mama?” he asked in a low tone. you nodded your head yes and he grabbed the hem of your shorts to slide them off. you lifted your hips up a bit so that it’ll be easier for him to take them off. jaafar threw them somewhere on the kitchen floor and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter.
he spread your legs out, bent down, and placed soft kisses on your inner thighs as well as leaving a few pecks around your pussy. he grabbed the can of whipped cream again and sprayed a trail of whipped cream in between each of your thighs. you gasped at the coldness that was settled onto your skin. he licked up the cream slowly while kissing your flesh as if he was trying to leave hickeys in between your legs. the sight in front of you was making your pussy throb and you were getting impatient by the second.
“baby stop teasing me.” you whined. he looked up at you and smirked. “im sorry baby.”
he placed each of your legs onto both of his shoulders and spread your lips open with his index and middle finger. he could see your wetness glistening in the kitchen light. “look at you… all wet just for me.” he got closer, his face coming in contact with your heat and took a long lick beginning at your entrance up to your clit which made you throw you back. “you taste so good baby.” he began sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit, making you instantly let out a moan
you grabbed the edge of the counter so you could keep yourself stable. “mmh- jaafarrr….” he moaned into your clit, the vibrations traveling through your body making you grip his curls. “ouu baby…. fu- uck.” you tried to close your legs on his head but he pushed them back out. he looked up into your eyes. “keep your legs open for me mama.”
he slid his middle finger into your wetness, making you grip his curls tighter. he felt you clench around his finger and stood up, coming face to face with you. “you almost there mama?” he asked. his chin was dripping with your juices, his lips were almost touching yours. “mm- mmh yesss!” he smirked and added his ring finger while pumping faster. jaafar curled his fingers making them hit your spot. you let out a high pitched moan. he went back down and sucked and flicked his tongue on your clit faster than he was before.
“ouuu shit!” your back began to form an arch as you felt your climax approaching. “im- im almost the- thereee.” you managed to get out. “mmh… cum on my fingers baby.” jaafar mumbled against your clit. you started rolling your hips against his hand and mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you released all on his fingers and he pulled them out of you.
jaafar brought his fingers up to where you could see them. “look at this mess you made on my fingers… you wanna help me clean it off?” you nodded your head while you were still trying to catch your breath. you grabbed his wrist and sucked on his ring finger while he sucked on his middle. yall were moaning at the taste of your release that was on his fingers. yall both pulled away at the same time and jaafar looked at you with a smirk on his face.
“you taste so good ba-” jaafar was cut off by you grabbing the back of his neck pulling him closer to you. you captured his lips in a kiss. you both could taste yourself on each others tongues. you pulled away from the kiss and you looked down. you noticed his bulge that was poking through the fabric of his pajama pants. “do you want help with that?” you asked him, looking back up at him. “what about your cookies mama?”
you looked at the pan of cookies that was sitting on the other side of the counter. on one hand you were pretty sure that they had plenty of enough time to cool down, but on the other you wanted to continue the business that jaafar had already gotten you into since he had already gotten you in the mood.
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar talking u through it while doing the devil’s tango (😼). he whispers soft praises on your ears, telling u how good you’re taking him, how your hole is literally made for his dick. he praised you for being a good girl, for being his girl :)
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar still fucking you hard even though you just reached your orgasm. you’re body is literally shaking from overstimulation, but him? he can’t get enough. seeing you squirt on his dick just made him even more horny. he loves looking at that white cum around his cock.
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar cumming inside you then slowly taking out his dick inside you. he loves staring at your hole blinking at him, your hole with his cum in it. he sees it coming out so he used his finger to put it inside you again. we don’t want his hard work go to waste, right?
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar having bulge kink. he LOVES pressing your abdomen so you can feel him more. he loves the noises you make when he knows that he’s hitting your cervix. it boosts his ego. (i just know his dih size is 7 when soft, 9 when rock hard. i don’t make the rules)
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar fucking you so hard you actually passed out. his sticky cum all over your pussy and inner thighs. he’s proud of what he did. he kissed your forehead before slowly picking you up to clean you in the bathroom. as much as he loves fucking you dumb, he loves taking care of you more, treating you like a queen that you are.
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar loves loves LOVES fucking you with lingerie on. he loves that burgundy lingerie you bought for him. he worships you and your body.
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar being a pussy whore. that man loves your pussy. he can eat and lap it from morning to midnight. he eats it like mad man, as if it’s his final meal. you already came three times by just him eating and fingering you. he said your juices tastes divine, your pussy is the best thing he ever tasted.
⤷ imagine bf!jaafar being the pussy whore that he is. he loves to put syrup on it. chocolate syrup? honey? peanut butter? whipped cream? you name it, he already tried it with your pussy. his favorite is probably ice cream flavored pussy ;)
heyy, i love your writing especially your fluff! i wanted to ask if you could write girl dad! jaafar, where your daughter is sick for the first time and him being worried. just something fluffy, where you guys pamper her lol. thank you!
ꔛ pairing — girl dad!jaafar jackson 𝓍 ƒ!reader
೯ warning: fluff, black reader intended, first time parents, established relationship of five years, some profanity.
cough after cough filled the room as jaafar hurried from one end of the house to the other, opening cabinets, digging through drawers, and checking every bottle of medicine he could find. his phone never left his hand, his thumb frantically scrolling through parenting forums, articles, and random posts from parents who had gone through the same thing. every website seemed to tell him something different, and the more he read, the more overwhelmed he became. this was the first time his baby girl had ever been sick, and no amount of preparation had made him feel ready for this. it didn't help that you had run to the store to grab more medicine and a few extra things the pediatrician had recommended, leaving him to handle everything on his own for the moment.
his attention snapped back to the nursery the second another round of tiny coughs echoed through the baby monitor. his heart clenched. he hated hearing her like this.
your baby cried and cried, her little face scrunched up in discomfort. her eyes were swollen and pink from all the tears she had shed, and her cheeks were just as red from the fever that refused to let up. every sniffle and shaky breath made jaafar's chest ache. he rushed to her crib without a second thought, carefully lifting her into his arms. she immediately buried her face against his shoulder, her tiny fingers weakly grabbing onto his shirt as if she already knew he was there to comfort her.
he gently rocked her from side to side, one hand rubbing slow circles across her back while the other cradled the back of her head. every few seconds he pressed a kiss against her warm forehead, silently wishing he could take whatever she was feeling away from her.
"oh darling, it's gonna be okay. mommy will be back very soon," he whispered, his voice so soft it was barely audible. "we're gonna make you feel all better, i promise."
she let out another tiny cough before whimpering into his shoulder, and jaafar felt his eyes sting. seeing her so miserable made him feel helpless. he knew babies got sick, everyone had told him that, but nothing could have prepared him for how heartbreaking it would be to watch his own daughter struggle through something as simple as a cold.
you already had your hands full before you even made it through the front door. grocery bags tugged at your fingers, your keys barely making it onto the counter before the sound reached you.
the second the lock clicked, jaafar let out the biggest sigh of relief from upstairs.
your daughter, however, didn't.
her little cries echoed down the hallway from the nursery, broken up by tiny sniffles that made your heart ache almost instantly. it wasn't the loud, fussy cry she usually made when she wanted attention. this one was tired, uncomfortable, and full of frustration.
your face immediately fell.
without another thought, you left the bags where they were, kicked your shoes off by the door, and hurried upstairs.
when you reached the nursery doorway, you found jaafar standing beside the crib. he looked exhausted.
his curls were messy from constantly running his fingers through them, and there were faint circles beneath his eyes that told you he'd spent the better part of the afternoon checking that monitor every few minutes. the second he'd seen your daughter stir and begin crying through the camera, he'd dropped everything and rushed into her room without a second thought.
now he gently rocked her against his chest, quietly shushing her while pacing slow circles across the nursery rug.
he looked up the moment you appeared.
relief washed over his face so quickly it almost made you smile.
"thank god," he breathed.
before he could say anything else, your daughter's watery eyes landed on you. her crying somehow grew louder. her tiny lip trembled as she stretched both arms toward you, like she was afraid you'd disappear again.
your heart completely melted.
"oh, my sweet girl," you whispered as you walked over.
jaafar carefully placed her into your arms, making sure her blanket stayed wrapped around her. the moment she settled against your chest, she buried her face into your neck, letting out the saddest little whimper.
"it's okay," you murmured, rubbing slow circles across her back. "mommy's here. i've got you."
you pressed a soft kiss against her head before brushing a few damp curls away from her face. she didn't stop crying right away, but as she listened to your heartbeat and felt your hand gently rubbing her back, her sobs slowly became quieter.
jaafar stood beside you, watching every little movement with an expression that looked like he was seconds away from crying himself.
he slipped an arm around your waist, resting his chin lightly against your shoulder as he stared at your daughter.
"i hate seeing her like this," he mumbled. "i kept watching the nanny cam hoping she'd settle herself back to sleep, but the second she started crying i ran in here. i wish i could just make her feel better."
you leaned your head against his for a moment, smiling softly despite everything.
"i know."
he frowned down at her tiny face.
"she sneezed three times today."
"jaafar."
"and she coughed."
"it's just a cold."
"she looked at me like she was suffering."
a quiet laugh slipped past your lips.
he looked at you with the most offended expression.
"why are you laughing?"
"because you're acting like she's fighting for her life."
"she is."
"baby."
"look at her."
you both glanced down at the little girl tucked safely against your chest. her watery eyes blinked sleepily as another tiny sniffle escaped her.
jaafar's bottom lip pushed into the biggest pout.
"she's too little to be sick."
his voice cracked just enough that your smile softened.
you reached over and brushed your fingers against his cheek.
"you're a really good dad."
he looked at you, his eyes beginning to glisten.
"am i?"
"you've been watching that nanny cam all afternoon."
he nodded "i didn't want to miss anything."
your heart swelled.
sometimes jaafar could be playful, dramatic, and impossible to take seriously, but moments like these reminded you just how deeply he loved the little family the two of you had built together.
every cry she made felt like his own heart was breaking.
every tiny smile she gave him made his entire day.
he loved being her dad more than anything.
taglist: @redemptioninthe4ethers @jermajestysbaby @michcarrillo02-blog @invinor @strawberrykittymp3 @saintwrld @youluvyanni @melaninjoys @0ffth3walll @mikedotorg @uh444 @j3nnyluvscupc4k3s @kisssmethrudaphone @maczken @areaniee @fawn4u1nonly @princesspluuto @nistxrr @vict-oryy @narratedillusions @looenx @anglfac @tenderlyboundlessparagon @king-mila @bonni-98 @plan3tch1ld @syrndollie @heartstofiiveunknownn @michaelsgirlie @yearlyjams @cinnamoncunt ( if you were not tagged pls lmk & i will update !! )
Contains: SMUT, porn w/o plot, softdom, slight manipulation, breeding kink, begging, praise kink, use of pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, cursing
Wc: 1.7k
You and Jermajesty had that arrangement—strictly friends with benefits. No strings, just incredible sex. But right now, he was losing his fucking mind.
You were bent over the mattress, ass in the air, face buried in the pillows while Jermajesty destroyed you from behind.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jermajesty groaned, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. His pacing was erratic—sometimes he was relentless, pounding into you like a man possessed, other times he slowed down, dragging his cock through your heat like he was savoring every inch.
His free hand was tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat.
"You taking it so good, ma," he growled, his voice sounding wrecked against your ear. He landed a sharp smack to your ass, watching the flesh jiggle before gripping it tight. "Pussy feels like fucking heaven”
He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back, changing the angle so he was grinding deep against your cervix.
"Don't cum in me," you manage to gasp out between moans, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "Jermajesty” please, pull out if you're gonna—" He cuts you off, his pace turning brutal again. "No. Fuck no."
"Nah, I need it, ma," he panted against your shoulder, hips snapping ruthlessly against your ass. He sounded absolutely wrecked, his dominant exterior cracking to reveal pure desperation. "Please... let me fuckin'’…fuck. I swear to God, I'll buy you Plan B tomorrow. I'll get you everything you need, just please let me cum in this pussy."
His tongue dragged along your neck, licking and kissing, his voice breaking. "You have no idea how bad I want it. How many times I've daydreamed about you taking my load deep inside. Just say yes, princess. Please... you feel so good... fuck..."
His thrusts became even more desperate, his thighs slapping against your ass as he begged.
"I'm gonna keep it all in there," he whimpered against your skin, his dominant persona completely melting into submission. He was practically crying from how good it felt. "Please, mama... let me give you my babies. Let me fill you up. You look so fuckin' pretty taking this dick."
"Jermajesty!" you cried out, your walls tightening around him uncontrollably.
"Yeah, take it, ma," he groaned, pushing deeper. His voice was wrecked—half commanding, half begging. "Such a fucking good girl. Taking my dick so well. You know I wanna breed you, don't you? Been dreaming 'bout it every fucking night." He kissed your shoulder, practically whimpering. "Just let me cum inside, ma. Please."
His hips snapped faster, his hands sliding to your hips and gripping hard. You could hear him practically panting now, sounds of pure desperation leaking through his teeth. His thrusts were deliberate, hit just right, dragging your walls along his length with a wet, squelching sound that made you whimper.
"Jerma, you're—"
"Shh, shh, baby," he interrupted, his voice a low growl mixed with pleading. His cock throbbed inside you, the head pressing against your cervix with each deep thrust. You could feel every vein, every ridge of him as he fucked you relentlessly.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted, his voice breaking. He leaned forward, pressing his chest against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you upright. His other hand snaked around your throat, fingers digging in as he bit down on your shoulder.
"You make me fucking lose my mind, mama," he growled against your skin, his pace turning brutal again. His hips snapped forward, his thick length driving deep inside you with a force that made you cry out. "You feel too fucking good."
"Pussy is fuckin' squeezing me," he gasped, his hips snapping erratically. He was fighting a losing battle against his own release. "Please... please, mama, don't make me pull out. I'll get the pill, I swear to God. I'll take you to the pharmacy myself first thing in the morning." His hands tightened on your waist, almost trembling.
He was sobbing now, not from sadness but from pure, unadulterated need. His lips pressed messy kisses to your neck and shoulders between desperate breaths. "I love you so much, baby. Please. Let me give you my babies. Please."
Oh. Oh, fuck.
The words hung in the air between you like a detonation.
You twisted your head to look at him over your shoulder, your breath ragged, eyes searching his desperate face. His usual composed demeanor was completely gone—replaced by raw need, vulnerability, eyes glassy and lips parted.
"You just said—" you breathed.
"I know," he choked out, not pulling back. Instead he leaned closer, forehead pressing against your temple, voice breaking.
"I do," he whispered, each word shattering the carefully constructed walls around his heart. "I fucking love you. So much it hurts. Please... baby..." His voice cracked completely, his pace turning slow and almost tender, despite the desperate grip he maintained.
You feel your chest tightening. That changed something. The air between you shifted. This was more than just sex now.
"We can't—" you started, but your voice died when he pressed his forehead against your temple, his breath hot and uneven.
"I know we can't,"
"But fuck, I want to," he whispered brokenly. His hips moved slow and deliberate now, not fucking you so much as making love. Each thrust pressed his cock deep against your cervix, like he was trying to paint your insides with his seed.
"I love you," he repeated, the words tumbling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "I love you, I love you, I love you." Each confession was punctuated by a slow, deep roll of his hips. His thumb brushed your jaw gently, the contrast between his rough fucking and gentle touch making your eyes water.
"Jerma," you whimpered, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around his length. The sheer intimacy of his confession shattered your ability to resist. "Baby... if you love me, you can't just..."
"I'll take care of everything," he cut you off softly, pressing a kiss to your damp temple. His hips snapped forward hard, making you gasp. "I promise."
"I'll get you the Plan B the second we're done," he breathed, his voice trembling against your ear. "I'll take you to the pharmacy myself. I'll pay for everything. Just please... let me have this. Let me breed you, princess. I need to feel you dripping with me."
His dominance slipped through again, hand tightening on your throat.
"Fuck," he groaned when you nodded, his hips stuttering. The permission sent a wave of relief and primal satisfaction through him. His grip on your throat tightened possessively as he began to fuck you in earnest again, his thick length battering your cervix with each snap of his hips.
"Yes, fuck, just like that," he grunted, loving the way your moans filled the room. "Take my cock, baby. Take it deep in that tight little pussy." His words grew dirtier, more aggressive, turned on by how you were letting him use you.
"Fuck, you sound so fucking pretty when you moan," he praised, his pace turning relentless. Each thrust buried him deeper, hitting that spot that made your back arch and your screams catch in your throat. You’re taking everything I give you. You feel so fucking good around me, mama." His voice dropped lower, rough with need.
His hand left your throat to grab a handful of your hair, pulling your head back sharply as he fucked you brutally. "Moan louder," he demanded, slamming into you hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall. "Let me hear that pretty mouth."
Your climax crashed over you without warning—a blinding wave that made your back arch off the mattress. "Ah! Jerma, fuck—!" You screamed his name, your orgasm ripping through you violently, your walls clamping down around his cock like a vice.
"Yes, yes, that's it," he groaned, feeling your pussy flutter and squeeze him mercilessly.
Your orgasm was intense—too intense. Your walls were pulsing, milking his cock like you were trying to drain him dry. Your vision blurred, pleasure overwhelming your senses. "FUCK—" you screamed into the pillows, legs shaking.
Jerma nearly lost it right then—your orgasm hitting him like a freight train. His hips stuttered, cock throbbing inside you.
"I can't—fuck, I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming!" he roared, his hips slamming into you one last, brutal time. He buried himself balls-deep, his cock twitching violently against your cervix. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your insides, rope after rope painting your womb.
Your face buried in the pillow as you felt the hot flood fill you—unending, excessive. His cock twitched inside you, and you felt him pulse again and again, a never-ending stream of cum flooding your womb. You could feel it running down your inner thighs. His hands remained firm on your waist, his entire body rigid.
"Shit," he choked out.
It was an absolute mess. You felt absolutely flooded, your pussy completely stuffed with thick, hot seed. Your womb was pumped completely full, ropes of cum filling you until it leaked around his cock, dripping down your thighs and staining the sheets. He stayed buried deep, plugging you up, ensuring nothing escaped.
"Mama..." he whimpered, leaning down to kiss your messy hair.
He stayed buried deep for what felt like an eternity, twitching and pulsing inside you, making sure every last drop coated your walls. When he finally pulled out, a huge gush of his seed spilled out, running down your thighs like thick honey.
"Oh my god," you breathed, feeling so incredibly full and used.
He collapsed beside you, pulling you against his sweaty chest.
He buried his face in your neck, instantly wrapping you in his arms. The desperate aggression was gone, replaced by overwhelming tenderness. He kissed your messy hair repeatedly, his heartbeat pounding against your back.
"I love you," he whispered against your skin, absolute adoration in his tone. "I've got you, mama. I swear."
It was completely undeniable—he was yours.
You lay there, feeling his cum drip slowly from your pussy between your thighs. Your body felt claimed, used, utterly saturated. His fingers traced lazy circles on your hip. "I meant everything I said," he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. "I'm not running from this. From you."
synopsis: jaafar learns you've never had an orgasm (like whatttttt) :o so he decides to show u
cw: smut, childhood bsf!jaafar, hints of possessive undertones (?), tension, dry humping, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, soft!dom jaafar :DD, straight up filth im sorry
can u guys tell i missed jaafar
half-edited
dating is hell. plain and simple.
the whole concept of putting on a nice outfit, spending your precious time getting ready, and driving across town just to sit across from a guy who couldn't care less about anything you have to say is exhausting. you weren’t even big on casual dating to begin with, but your friends had spent three weeks nagging you about this guy you’d met at a party — insisting he was sweet, handsome, and totally your type.
he wasn’t.
the date was a complete disaster from start to finish. you would’ve at least given him a point for driving across town to pick you up at your place, but that didn't even scratch the bare minimum considering what he put you through the rest of the night. he showed up twenty minutes late without so much as a quick text or apology, spent the first half of dinner monologuing about his workout routine, and spent the second half checking his phone under the table. by the time the bill came, he acted like he’d bought you a house instead of two watered down drinks, leaning in at the end of the night with a sleazy, expectant grin like he fully counted on an invitation to your apartment.
you didn't even let him drive you home. the second you excused yourself to the restroom, you pulled out your phone.
can u come get me?
his reply came back almost immediately.
send me the address. i’m on my way.
that was just how it was with him.
it had always been that way. ever since you two were kids running around his house, scraping your knees on the driveway and playing around. jaafar was your safe haven. he knew every single thing about you — every secret, every insecurity, every terrible decision — and you knew him just as deeply. you knew the insane work ethic he hid behind his easygoing nature, and the grounding presence he brought into your life whenever the rest of the world felt overwhelming. when nobody else listened, jaafar did.
a few minutes later, his car pulled up to the curb.
jaafar’s eyes swept over you as you walked to his passenger door. you were wearing a short white sundress. it was tight at the waist, flowy at the bottom, with a low scoop at the neck. maybe even a bit too low, not that he should be noticing that anyway.
by the time he put the car in park and rolled the windows down you were right there, resting your arms on the edge of the driver’s side window as you leaned through it. you brought the summer heat in with you, coming so close he could smell your perfume. a new scent, but the same old proximity. you never had much of a sense of personal space with him.
plus, he didn’t mind when you leaned so far over into the body of his car that the neckline of your pretty dress fell open. but he kept his eyes on yours.
you were all done up. you'd made an effort tonight, and he could see it. you looked down at him through heavy lashes, your glossy lips tugging into a smile.
he wondered how someone could’ve fucked up that badly on a date with you.
“are you the uber i ordered?” you grinned.
“oh you think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“one of us has to be the funny one.”
he smiled at you as he scanned your expression.
you were smiling too, bright and easy. anyone else would've believed it. but he knew better.
“how’s my comedian doing?” he asked. “you okay?”
you let out a dramatic sigh. “i’m fine. it’s not a big deal.”
“but you made me come pick you up. that sounds like a big deal.”
there was a moment of heavy silence, and then you let your smile relax.
“if i’m being honest, i’m better now that you’re here. so thank you.” you said.
“you never have to thank me,” he said, shifting his car into park.
he pushed the door open, and you stepped back to give him room. he stepped into the space, now being the one to look down at you. he was always so much taller than you, even when u were kids.
he opened his arms wide, giving you an unsaid invitation.
a small smile broke across your face as you stepped right into him, melting against his frame. you pressed your cheek firmly into the center of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and wrapped your arms tight around his torso.
he closed his arms around you instantly, pulling you flush against him. one of his large, warm hands settled flat against the small of your back, holding you close, while the other rested gently against the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. he rested his chin right on top of your head.
it was a short hug but it instantly made you feel better.
when you pulled back, he leaned and rested his side against the car “so... what do you want to do?” he asked. “go somewhere? i can take you home."
you chewed on your lip. “sure, you can take me home, if that’s easier.”
if he was anyone else, he would've taken your answer at face value. but then his eyes drifted over you, your dress, your hair. you'd spent all this time getting ready, it shouldn't all be for nothing
"actually,” he corrected. “why don't we go somewhere?"
"yeah?" you smiled.
"yeah." he signaled toward the passenger side with a tilt of his head, guiding you over. you expression was brighter as he opened the passenger door for you.
you were already settled intot he passenger seat by the time he realized it was as far back as it is.
jermajesty had been riding shotgun earlier with his legs stretched all the way out, and jaafar had completely forgotten to adjust the seat back to its usual position — or more like your preferred position.
he rested one hand on the roof of the car and ducked his head in, leaning right over your lap to reach down. his knuckles brushed against the side of your thigh as he pressed the little switch on the side of the seat, sending it humming smoothly forward along its track.
“sorry,” he murmured. “forgot to move it back for you.”
the seat hummed softly as it adjusted, and jaafar did mean to look up at you. but as he raised his gaze — from the button on the side of the seat, to where you were sitting, with your leg resting just a few inches from his hand — his eyes caught on your thigh.
but before he could stop himself, his gaze lingered. the hem of your dress had ridden up just enough to leave the smooth curve of your upper thigh bare.
god, that dress.
you put this dress on for him? for some random guy who didn't even care to look at you? the thought made his jaw lock so tight his back teeth ached. some idiot who wouldn't spend a dime on you, who wouldn't even think to buy you all the pretty dresses you wanted, got to sit across from you looking like this. got to look at you done up so sweet, when he didn't deserve to even be in the same room as you.
“i could’ve moved the seat myself, jaafar.” you laughed, completely oblivious to his glance, and thankfully, to all the nasty thoughts running wild in his head. “i know how to press a button.”
he was still trying to recover from that glance, barely even noticing that he’d adjusted the seat more than enough. in fact, you were now face to face, and he was looking you dead in the eyes. his mind was still on that dress. that dress on you, and that smile on your face, and that perfume filling his head, dizzying him.
you cocked your head to the side. “but it is kinda nice, though. getting taken care of.”
taken care of.
you really shouldn’t have said that, because something was now flashing through his head that he absolutely shouldn’t be thinking about; laying you down, shoving your pretty little sundress up, kneeling between your legs, your thighs shaking on his shoulders as his fingers grazed over your skin.
taking care of you and treating you right, the way you should be.
your fingers tangled and tugging at his hair, his tongue on your—
“jaafar?” your eyes were locked on his. “hello? did you just zone out?”
he pulled back when he broke out of his daze.
“sorry,” he said quickly, “i was just thinking—” about things he shouldn’t have, looking at places he shouldn’t have. “—some things i have to do this week.”
horrible excuse, but it was the best he could do.
he shut the door.
“i think it’s nice that you always open doors for me. there are like… no gentlemen left nowadays.”
gentlemen? fuck.
if he were actually a gentleman, he wouldn’t have been looking at you like that.
“opening doors is the bare minimum.”
“mm, well at least one guy gets it.”
but what about all the other guys, though? the guys who did next to nothing and called it enough, the ones who didn't even think about doing the bare minimum for you — why were you wasting your time on men who didn’t even care enough to see what they had right in front of them?
but that wasn't any of his business, though. just like it wasn't any of his business what you looked like beneath your dress. he'd crossed a line looking at you the way he did. he shouldn't have been imagining any of that.
and he definitely had no business calling your name right then.
you glanced up at him like through the rolled-down window.
“you look really good,” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”
a soft smile touched your lips. “you think so?”
“yeah.” of course he did. he’d always thought you were. but he wasn’t going say it out loud — he knew better.
what he needed to do was shake off whatever the hell those fantasies were — where’d they even come from? that was never the nature of your relationship, and it never would be.
you dont see him that way anyway.
the worst part about all of it was that he knew exactly how you viewed him. a friend. and even knowing that, he still had that filth run through his mind.
pervert.
“thank you, j.”
“‘course.”
he walked over to the driver's side of the car, fighting the dull ache twisting in his gut before sliding behind the wheel.
“so where are we going?” you asked, fiddling with the ac to how you want it.
"where do you want to go?” he asked softly.
"... can we go to the lake?"
it felt like forever since he was here with you last.
back before work and filming and life got too hectic for the two of you to make the long drive out.
yet here you were again, staring through the glass at the moonlit ripple of the lake. the place hadn't shifted a bit; completely untouched by time. standing so still, it felt like stepping back into an old memory.
there was a time when this turn-off belonged only to the two of you. it started years back, on a night you’d broken down in tears crying — something you almost never did. you’d told him you just wished you could get out for a bit, get some fresh air, and within minutes, his car was parked down the street from your house.
he watched you sneak out the back door, carefully avoiding the creaky steps so you wouldn't wake your parents. any trace of your tears had vanished the second you made it into his passenger seat, giddy from the excitement of sneaking out in the middle of the night. you’d told him to hurry up and drive before anyone noticed, telling him to take you somewhere far away.
and this was where he took you.
after that night, it became your go-to spot. whenever life got too overwhelming, or you just needed to disappear for a while, he’d pull up without a word and take you on the drive out to the water, sitting there with you for as many hours as you needed.
jaafar missed it.
a cool night breeze swayed the dark trees along the bank, rustling the leaves as the moonlight poured over the dashboard. the rolled down windows let the soft summer breeze in.
"we used to come here a lot," you murmured softly.
jaafar turned his head to look at you. the glow of the moon lit up your profile, softening your features and turning your eyes into dark pools that caught the faint light.
"yeah," he said, his voice quiet. "all the time."
you laughed. "i was always going through it back then. and you were always bringing me out here whenever i needed it."
"things were hard back then," he replied, watching you closely. "but they're better now, aren't they?"
you went quiet for a beat, staring out at the water as your smile slowly faded into something softer, a look on your face he couldn't quite read.
"yeah," you whispered. "but it's because of you. you always took care of me."
"i'll always take care of you," he said firmly, not missing a beat.
you looked away for a second, your fingers tangling together in your lap as you took a slow breath. "jaafar—"
before you could finish, a heavy crack of summer thunder rattled the car, followed by the pounding of rain against the windshield.
jaafar rolled the windows back up, the sound of the rain muffling behind it. he turned the ac on high and watched the fog on the windshield spread.
he was about to ask you what you were saying but your phone chimed.
his eyes flickered down to your phone, a sudden urge to ask if it was him.
but it wasn’t any of his business. so he lay his head back on the headrest, fiddling with the material of his sweatpants as you checked your phone.
turns out, he didn’t need to ask.
“what an asshole,” you muttered. “no way he expects a second date after that.”
jaafar let out an exhale. “he texted you?”
“yeah,” you sighed, holding the screen toward him. “he’s asking if i'm down for ‘round two.’ can you believe this guy?”
jaafar didn’t touch the phone, his eyes sweeping over the notification, shaking his head.
your phone chimed again.
you both look down at your phone screen at the same time.
maybe you can come over to my place this time
wyd now? are you in bed already?
jaafar clenched his jaw, prying his eyes away from your phone.
“he’s asking if im in bed?” you mused. “how much do you wanna bet he’s gonna ask for nudes after all that.”
you were laughing, and he had his jaw clenched.
“don’t text him back.” it came out a bit rougher than he would’ve liked.
“you’re giving me orders now?” you snorted. “what are you, my dad?”
jaafar sighed, his eyes closing. “sorry.”
he knew he was being too intense, but he didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight.
“is something bothering you, j?”
he inhales deeply. “i don’t know.” he said. “‘s just…”
he rolled his head on the headrest to meet your eyes. you looked at him, expectantly — almost needy and he felt his throat tighten. he would give you anything in the world, give you whatever you need. care for you, protect you, and keep you—
but you were not his.
so jaafar chose his next words carefully.
“if you’re not getting what you deserve,” he said. “then drop him.”
he didn’t want to sound too harsh. “it’s up to you, but i just don’t like seeing you hurt. that’s all.”
your eyes softened. “i’m not texting him back.” you said. “wasn’t going to. he’s an asshole.”
he couldn’t help but feel relieved.
you watched as his fingers moved over his sweatpants. he had a habit of doing that.
he was gentle in everything he did — always had been, at least with you. he’d only ever treated you gently. but tonight felt different. he felt different.
you don’t know why you couldn’t stop looking at them. you couldn’t stop the feeling building in the pit of your stomach that intensified when you imagined him touching you with the same purpose.
you knew he’d be so good at it. jaafar was eager to please, eager to give — he always knew what to do.
he looked out through the rain-streaked windshield, a sliver of his tongue slipping out to trace his bottom lip before he bit down on it.
you imagined it on you, him running his tongue up your body.
the bite of his words from earlier still echoed in your head — don't text him back. drop him — he’d always been protective of you — that wasn't anything new. but again, it felt different.
“what is it?” he asked, meeting your eyes.
you were leaning closer now, resting your arm over the center console, oblivious to the way the thin strap of your dress slipped slightly down your shoulder.
his eyes flickered down for a second, his gaze wandering over your falling neckline, taking in the soft dip of your cleavage and the faint, lacy outline of your bra. before his thoughts could go any further, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, his throat working as he swallowed.
“can i admit something to you, jaafar?”
“anything,” he said smoothly.
“when i was younger, i used to think all guys would be a little like you. caring and… selfless.” you paused, huffing out a laugh. “but i found out most of them are the opposite.”
“what do you mean?”
“some guys are just selfish. and some only want you for one thing.”
he was quiet for a second.
“i shouldn’t have let you set the standard,” you murmured, a faint smile on your face. “you gave them way too much to live up to.”
set the standard?
jaafar glanced at you as thunder rolled above, but you were looking out through the windshield again, your face unreadable.
“there have to be some good guys out there,” he murmured softly. “they can’t all be bad.”
that made you laugh.
“oh, it’s all bad.” you turned back to face him, propping your chin on your hand. “i mean, i’ve told you pretty much everything. but i never told you what a mess these guys are in bed, did i? they take selfish to a whole new level.”
in bed?
jaafar felt his mouth go dry, another image surfacing in his head, but one that put a pit in his stomach — someone else’s hands on you.
his jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. “oh. really?”
god, he wasn’t any better than them. here he was, secretly fantasizing about you while you sat right beside him, trusting him with your heart.
“really,” you studied him with a curious look on your face. "you wanna know all the dirty details?”
he was torn — stuck between not wanting to picture another soul touching you and needing to know every single thing that fell short. he needed to know where they failed, everything that wasn't enough, just so he could fix it for you. so he could make it up to you.
but above all else, he pushed those feelings down. when he told you that you could tell him anything, he meant it.
“we can talk it out.” he finally said.
“okay.”
and just like that, you were slouching forward over the console, leaning into his space just like old times — back when you’d bring him all the hot gossip from your friends. you trusted him implicitly, confiding in him the way you always had.
“jaafar…”
you pursed your lips, a subtle, conspiratorial smile playing on your mouth. for a second, the closeness of you was dizzying.
“... none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum before.”
fuck.
“not a single one.”
there was a pressure in his chest, and he didn’t know what it was from. he didn’t even know what was suffocating him more — the sickening thought of another guy trying, the fact that every single one of them had failed and left you unsatisfied, or the realization that he knew he could do better. he’d been dying to see what you looked like when you were undone, dying to be the one to give it to you.
“really?” he breathed out, his voice barely a murmur.
“really,” you said, a faint smile touching your lips. “i always have to take care of myself.”
he had to swallow hard to keep from sputtering out. god.
“maybe it’s because… you don’t really know them?” he muttered, looking away toward the window. a dry, awkward laugh escaped him. he didn’t even know what the fuck he was saying anymore. “like… you just met them?”
“what are you saying, j?” you asked, your tone dipping a bit critical. “i should go for someone i know instead?”
his heart dropped. he didn’t mean it like that. now he’d made it sound like he was putting his own name in the running, and he’d never do that.
“‘m not saying that.” his words were careful. “just… you deserve someone who treats you well. better than that.”
you pushed. “better? what does that look like to you?”
jaafar let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “what does it matter what it looks like to me?”
“because,” you scoffed. “i trust your judgement on guys. why are you being so shy with your opinion all of a sudden?"
he was taken aback by the tone of your words. he didn’t get why you were digging so hard, why you wanted to know so badly.
what was better anyway? there was better, there was good enough, and in his mind, none of those were the same thing. none of it came close to what you deserved
“at the bare minimum,” jaafar finally said. “someone who’d appreciate you. someone who appreciates your time, and doesn't pull bullshit like your date did tonight.”
“and what if i haven’t found that?” you murmured.
“you will,” he said softly. “there are a lot of guys who’d jump at the chance to treat you right. you’re—”
he cut himself off.
you were watching him so intently, clinging on to every word.
“i’m what?”
there were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he couldn’t.
he laughed humourlessly. “because you’re you,” —because you’re everything a person could want— “and you deserve someone who…”
he trailed off, trying to place the look on your face.
“go ahead, tell me.” you pushed. “you’re the expert right? you get to size up every guy who even looks at me. no one’s ever been good enough for you. aren’t you dying for the chance to tell me exactly who i need?”
he laughed, frustration rolling over him. he didn't even know what this was anymore. a conversation? an argument?
“i'm listening.”
his eyes scanned over your face. “you need a guy who’s good for you.” the words were in his voice, but they felt completely unfamiliar. “he should treat you right. be there when you need him. he should be attentive, show up for you, appreciate you. always tell you how pretty you are. he should be taking care of you... meeting all your needs with no questions—or excuses—you know how tired i am of hearing excuses? you need someone who'd give you everything—”
"so someone like you?" you were staring at him, head titled. and he knew he fucked it all up. he said way too much.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured, running a hand over his mouth. “really, i don’t know what i’m...”
your expression melted. the rain beat on the roof of the car as you shook your head slowly.
"since when is caring something you have to apologize for?"
“it's not my place,” he said, voice low.
you sighed softly, your eyes flickering all over his face. you leaned in closer.
"jaafar... what if i did want someone like you?"
he froze in place, his breathing quickening.
"…you keep saying i deserve someone who treats me right," you said quietly. "someone who shows up. someone who actually cares."
you don't even remember how the distance between you guys shrunk, but he was so close now — too close. close enough that you could count the lashes framing his eyes.
his face was just a few inches from yours. your chest was leaning right over the center console, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you.
your voice was so quiet, your nose brushing over his.
“‘m sorry i didn’t see it before, jaafar. i was looking for that person for so long. spent so much time trying to find what felt right.” you held his gaze. “the only time it ever did… was with you.”
his head was spinning, skin tingling. was he dreaming?
“did i misread things?” you breathed, your lips almost touching. “do you not feel the same way?”
“please tell me you’re serious.” he sounded borderline desperate. but he didn’t care.
“i’m dead serious,” you whispered.
“i want you,” he started. “so much. in all the ways i shouldn’t, and it’s killing me.”
“you can have me in any way you want.”
he said your name, and it came out helpless.
instead of saying anything else, he pulled you forward, closing the gap.
he finally tasted you, felt you, his skin buzzing at every point where it was touching you. he parted your lips with his, and you opened for him like a flower.
you let him in, let him have you.
you let him devour you and taste all his feelings reciprocated on your tongue.
you let out a gasp into his mouth, and it made him dizzy.
“i want you. so badly.” your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed through him all the same.
he wasn’t expecting you to touch him. he was so hard already. he’d been hard for you, so sensitive to every movement of your hands on him.
“i need you” you breathed.
he pulled back, breathing hard. “are you sure?"
“’m so sure. i need you right now.”
he’d give you anything you need.
you deserved everything. so many things that for a second he didn’t know where to start. but then you were moaning softly in his mouth, so responsive to his touch.
your confession echoed in his mind.
none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum before.
and so he ran his fingers up your thigh, fingers trailing up your skin.
his hands seemed to grasp everywhere at once, his mouth hungry on yours as your tongues moved together. every kiss carried need. he gave your thigh a soft squeeze, a light touch claiming every inch of skin.
his fingers moved higher and higher until he was playing with the lower hem of your dress.
you knotted your fingers into his hair — it was soft to the touch. your skin grew more sensitive with every moment, his hand stalling on your upper thigh as his thumb rubbed near its apex. he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down your jaw and down your neck.
oh—
your gasp devolved into a shudder as he licked up your throat, his tongue hot on your skin at the exact same time his hand slipped slowly under your dress.
it left goosebumps all over your neck and thighs, your back arching off the leather seat as your legs spread slightly.
"jaafar—" you gasped.
"yeah, baby?" he slurred against your pulse.
"want to be closer," you breathed, hips twitching instinctively against his touch. "'need you."
"c'mere."
his large hand spanned around your waist, using his strength to pull you straight toward him over the center console.
you straddled his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as his fingers gripped your hips tight. you were so close now — you could feel him pressing firm through the fabric of his sweatpants. the warmth of his lap under your bare thighs sent butterflies wild in your stomach.
he was big. with his height, you probably should’ve guessed.
jaafar’s eyes roamed over you, greedy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of you.
"look at you," he said softly.
the look on his face was pure awe and reverence, and it made you bashful under his gaze.
"you can look," you laughed shakily, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried to cover your face. "but not for long."
"why not?" he murmured, a faint, lopsided smile touching his lips as he gently caught your wrists, pulling your hands away so he could see you again.
"’cause... it's embarrassing," you whispered, biting your lip.
“i’d look at you all day if you let me. never seen anything better.”
"stop." you tried to look away, but his hand came up, warm fingers gently cupping your jaw, bringing your face back to his.
"you're too sweet to me," you murmured softly.
"you deserve it," he smiled softly, his eyes brimming with so much sincerity it almost made your chest ache. "i hope you know you deserve the world."
"you mean it?" your breath caught when his large hand squeezed your hip softly over the thin fabric of your dress.
"i do," he said. his fingers idled at the middle of your back, slowly tracing up your spine until they wrapped around the nape of your neck, his touch sending a shiver straight down your length. he pulled your face gently down to his, your lips almost touching, his hot breath fanning across your mouth. "y'know what else you deserve?"
"what?" you breathed, your pulse racing in your ears.
"let me show you."
he kissed you deeper, instantly turning hungry. you cradled his face, feeling him squeeze your waist with both hands. he pulled you down against him, once, just so your weight pressed right down on the hard shape of his dick. it made him shudder.
you resisted the urge to grind over him, but you were so wet already, making a mess over the front of his sweatpants.
"you deserve someone who knows just how to touch you, baby," he murmured against your mouth, his lips brushing yours with every word.
"and how's that?" you asked, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"slowly."
his hands ran lazily down your hips, the heat of his palms bleeding through your dress. long, smooth fingers lazed over the skin of your thighs, unhurried and attentive.
"gentle, at first..." his voice was so low and quiet.
you were focused on his hands as they grazed further up your thighs, slipping easily under the hem of your dress to lift the fabric. you grasped at the front of his shirt, gasping at the size of his hands as they gripped your bare skin, his thumb resting at the front of your hip while his palm spanned around to rest just above your ass.
"'til you're ready for more."
he was so hard under your thigh, the thick length of him pulsing with heat — so much pre-cum at the tip that it was already starting to seep through his pants.
"want more," you begged.
"i know, baby," he whispered, trailing a kiss from the corner of your mouth down to the sensitive skin under your jaw. "you know 'm gonna give it to you."
his gaze dropped, eyes fixed on your chest as he lifted your dress up and off. "you deserve someone who'll give you everything you want."
your legs spread around him, straddling his lap in just your bra and panties — a little lacy set you’d put on for someone else. but you wouldn't have anyone else take it off you now.
you didn't have to ask if he liked it; you felt the response in his dick, twitching underneath you. his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "you're so perfect."
your breath caught when his hands cupped your tits lightly. you squirmed on his lap.
"that feel good?" he whispered.
all you could do was nod.
"good," he murmured, brushing his thumb over your nipples through the lace of your bra. "you deserve someone who can make you feel good."
it was better than good. his touch on your skin, his big hands gripping your tits, long fingers tweaking your nipples through the lace.
he had you pleading his name, so needy for him that you couldn't help but lean forward and pull him into a sloppy kiss.
but that wasn't enough either.
even with your tongues tangled together and his dick straining harder up against you, you were dying for more, desperate to be closer.
you ground down on his lap, pressing your weight into the bulge in his pants. he was so hard under your pussy, so big it made you whimper.
"i know," he said between kisses. "i know."
jaafar pressed his fingers lightly into your skin and gripped your hips, guiding you back and forth over his dick so you could get the friction you needed. slow and easy, he rocked you on his lap until your panties were soaked through.
"i know how bad you want it... an' you deserve it..." he said softly.
his mouth left yours, adjusting as he sank back into the leather to elevate you on his lap. he brought you up as he trailed kisses down your jaw and down your throat. you were higher up, and he was lower down, kissing over your collarbones before pausing.
"you deserve someone who’ll give it to you... at the right time, baby..." he murmured into your skin, his voice low and muffled as he reached the level of your chest, scattering kisses just above the lace of your bra
he licked and sucked your skin, making it tingle. you carded your fingers through his soft hair, chills shooting down your spine. his fingers slid up your thighs slowly.
"...and for exactly how long..."
his fingers moved inward, languid as they reached the apex of your inner thighs and brushed over the hem of your panties.
"...because it would be so mean to make you wait too long, wouldn’t it?"
he wrapped one arm around your waist to steady you, resting his hand on your side — his fingers splaying wide over your skin, greedy — while he touched you with the other.
your mind lifted, as if floating into a fog, intoxicated by his touch. they made your eyes heavy, clouding your head so you heard his sweet words as if in a daze.
"you deserve someone who..." his voice dropped, his touch a little heavier as he ran his hand slowly over the lace of your panties.
"...knows how to tease, how to make you wait..."
his fingers brushed over your clit, and you gasped, shuddering.
"...but not for too long..." you heard the strain in his voice as he rubbed over the soaked fabric under your entrance. you felt his dick growing under your ass, getting harder.
"...just long enough to get you nice and wet, baby."
while he rubbed circles over your clit, the hand on your side moved down until you felt his big grip on your ass. moaning softly, you watched through foggy eyes as he craned his neck to kiss your tits through the lace of your bra — light kisses through the fabric, just one tease after another. but as soon as you started to whine, he gave you his tongue, running it over the fabric, swirling it over your hardening nipples, and flicking it. even through the barrier, it made you shudder as much as the wetness and heat of his mouth.
the heat intensified when he started to suck on your tits through the lace; it got hotter when he grazed his teeth over your nipples, hottest when he bit down gently. he was careful with his teeth, but you were so sensitive that each bite made you squirm. coupled with the desire growing inside you, you were dying to be skin to skin, hating the barrier between you.
"so wet for me," he slurred between soft sucks and bites to your tits. "so good for me, such a good girl. you know what a good girl like you deserves?"
"tell me," you breathed.
"someone who knows how to get you ready."
he pressed his fingers to your swollen clit and gave you enough pressure to build that heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. it sent another rush of arousal between your thighs, making everything puffier and wetter.
you were more than ready; you were desperate.
"you need someone who preps you right—" his fingers skimmed right to the hem of your panties.
"—'cause then..." he slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties, letting them linger there for a beat as he looked up at you. his mouth was swollen from sucking at your chest, his cheeks flushed as he licked his lips.
your heart hammered in your chest.
"... when they really touch you..." he hooked his fingers over the damp fabric covering your pussy and pulled your panties to the side.
"...it’s gonna feel so much better for you, baby." his fingers brushed over your slit.
and you shuddered. he was right. it did feel much better.
you should’ve known he’d do it better. jaafar had always shown you how things were supposed to be done. after all these years, after everything, you should’ve known he’d be the only one to do it right.
he’d worked your body so thoroughly, had you dripping wet, and he’d barely even touched you. you’d never been this wet. you were worked up, so sensitive that just the feeling of his fingertips brushing over your pussy made you drip.
"jaafar, please—" you couldn’t remember a time you’d ever needed it enough to beg.
he licked his fingers, cleaning your wetness off them, just to get them wetter with a glob of spit. softly, he brought his hand back between your thighs.
"c’mon, baby. you don’t ever have to beg me. jus’ tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you."
"keep going," you gasped.
"what you need..." he hummed, his voice soft. his eyes, half-lidded as they settled on your face, watching you as he smeared his the slickness over your pussy. "what you need is someone who knows when you’re ready to take it."
and you were. the second he pressed against your entrance, your pussy opened for him, stretching around him for the very first time.
"someone who knows when you’re dying for it..." his voice was warm against your skin your head went foggy, dropping forward as he pushed into you. your noses brushed together, eyes still watching you so intently. he pushed deeper, the air muffled with your pleasured gasps. "...so they can give you that relief you need."
"and when they finally slip into this pretty pussy..."
with his mouth against your jaw, he sank one finger all the way into you, slow and easy. you shuddered when he buried it to the base, your walls clenching around him.
"...you’re already gonna be so worked up..."
you trembled, fingers entangling in his hair as he pumped his finger in and out of you, aching for more of him, wanting him deeper.
"...and you’ll already be so wet, so needy..."
you whimpered his name as he pulled back, craving the stretch of him like nothing else mattered.
"...that when they give you more..."
he slipped another finger in, stretching you out around two. he gave them to you all the way, letting you take them to the knuckle, letting you feel the warm skin of his hand pressed up against your entrance for a second before he fucked them into you. he curled them forward so your soft moans and all the sticky, wet sounds joined the rain beating outside.
"...you’ll already be so close. won’t you, baby?"
he was right. you were so close, gasping “yes, yes,” dripping down his knuckles while that knot in your lower stomach tightened.
"but the most important thing," he slurred, your thick arousal dripping down his fingers, each movement filling the car with wet noises, "is that they’re willing to learn what spots make you feel best. right here, sweetheart?"
his fingers pressed deeper, curling into a spot that felt good.
you gasped, "y-yeah—"
then he adjusted, saying, "or there?"
he angled his hand, pressing into a spot that felt even better. it felt so good that it drew out a burst of wetness, making your pussy clamp down on him suddenly, and his cock pulsed underneath you in response. he moved his fingers again, curled them a little harder, and fucked more wetness out of you.
"right there makes you squirt? that feel good, baby?" he groaned.
he stuck to that spot, fucking another short burst out of you that made your thighs shake. he coaxed you the whole time, cooing as you told him how close you were to cumming for him, how good he gave it to you.
“yeah? you want more?" he asked sweetly — but he was already giving it to you, working over that little sweet spot deep in your pussy, again and again, watching you try not to fall apart. you were so close, and he pressed his thumb to your aching clit, rubbing it as he fingerfucked you.
"do you get it yet?"
you couldn’t manage an answer, just a few jumbled words cut off by heightening moans.
"you need somebody who knows how to make this pussy cum."
your thighs trembled around his, your toes curling — you grabbed at his hair, pulled him into a kiss, and into your mouth
"you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?" he asked lazily.
"yeah, yes, yes," you gasped.
"i know you need to cum badly, i can feel it. let it go, baby."
one simple instruction. just like that, you spilled over, doing exactly as he said. this was how he rewarded you — encouraging you as the tension snapped, letting you cum for the first time on fingers that weren’t your own. they were longer, better, drenched and fucking you through your orgasm as pleasure rolled through you in waves.
you slumped forward with the last wave, catching your breath against his chest, feeling its slow and steady rise and fall. in the hollow of his chest, you heard the low hum of his voice, reassurances murmured to ease you down as you closed your eyes. you felt his arms wrapped tight around you, his large hands on your skin — squeezing your neck gently, rubbing your back, keeping you safe.
“was that okay?” he asked softly.
"that was perfect." you shifted on his lap, grinding your hips forward right into the hard length of his dick.
jaafar let out a low groan, his head rolling back against the leather headrest. "fuck..." he murmured your name, his voice desperate.
you knew how badly he wanted it. it was obvious, especially when you dropped your eyes down to his crotch, watching the outline of his dick tenting the fabric of his sweatpants.
but when he brought his head back down to look at you, there was a hesitance in his eyes, bordering on guilt.
“i don’t have a condom on me,” he said softly, his thumbs stroking your hips carefully. “i’m sorry, baby, i didn’t expect—”
you shook your head before he could finish. “’s okay. i would’ve told you not to wear one anyway.”
he murmured your name again, his brow furrowing like he was trying to talk you out of it, trying to be the responsible one. but you already knew he was going to fuck you. he’d do anything for you, give you whatever you asked for.
“when you put it in,” you whispered, holding his gaze, “i want to feel all of you.”
jaafar cursed under his breath.
“are you sure?” he asked, searching your face, but you could already feel his dick twitching and swelling beneath you at the thought of taking you raw. his body was giving him away.
“i’m sure.” you said as you tugged his shirt up.
jaafar reached up to help you, lifting his arms so you could pull the fabric over his head and toss it onto the back seat.
as your eyes adjusted to him, your breath caught in your throat. he’d been working out consistently for his role — putting in endless hours to get into shape and build stamina — and it was showing in every line of his body. his shoulders were broad, his torso cut and defined, with lean, smooth muscle stretching tight over his ribs and chest.
you reached out, pressing your hands to the center of his stomach and slowly rubbing up his torso, feeling the heat of his skin.
you traced up over his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your palms, before letting your fingers drag back down.
"you got so strong," you murmured, staring at him in awe.
jaafar stayed still under your touch, eyes heavy and fixed on your face as you admired him.
"you know," you added with a soft laugh, "there was probably a point in our lives where i could've taken you in a fight."
a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "you really think you could take me?"
it didn't sound like he was talking about a fight anymore.
the heat of his quiet voice on your skin, combined with the slight jerk of his dick in his pants — still so hard, pressed tight between his body and yours — sent a wrenching heat straight through your stomach.
"could i take you...?" you breathed.
you reached down between your bodies, grazing your fingers over the bulge against his thigh, tracing all the way down the long, thick length of it through his sweatpants.
probably not.
"i don't know, j." a firm squeeze to his dick through the fabric had his breath catching hard in his throat, his jaw clenching as a needy look filled his eyes. "but i'm dying to find out."
you felt his dick respond as he leveled himself in front of you.
"are you sure?" he rasped.
“never been more sure. i want this so bad, you don’t even know.”
“okay, sweetface,” he said softly, before placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose.
you pouted, crinkling your nose up at the nickname. “don’t call me that.”
“why not?” he teased, his face breaking into a lazy smile as he moved his body slowly over yours, rubbing his hard dick right against you. “you don’t like it when i call you names?”
“n-not like that,” you laughed shakily, spreading your thighs wider so he could get closer. “not that.”
with the same teasing tone, his thrusts getting a little harder, his dick more persistent against you, he murmured, “what kind of names do you like, then?”
he dropped his head down, breath fanning over your throat with each word, his hair tickling your skin. “baby?”
“y-yeah...”
“yeah?” he slurred, trailing kisses up the column of your neck, over your hammering pulse. he paused right under your ear, his lips lingering on your hot skin. “you like angel?”
your stomach went instantly into knots. “yes, j.”
he placed a soft kiss right below your ear.
“princess?”
“yeah, yes.”
he nipped your earlobe, thrusting his hips again, pressing the thick length of him hard against your body.
“and what about good girl?” he asked softly against your ear.
you gasped and pulled on his hair, overwhelmed by it all — the feeling of his weight on you, the way he was grinding his cock against you, his low, breathy voice, and those words dripping from his lips.
“that’s what you like,” he said, and it wasn't a question. “you wanna be a good girl for me, i know you do.”
he trailed light kisses over your skin — up from your jaw, to your cheek, to your lips.
then he looked down at you, his eyes low when he said, “that’s why you keep cumming so easily for me, isn’t it?”
you bit your lip, unable to find your voice, but still gave him one small nod.
“now if you want to be even better for me, baby,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips tight as he lined himself up, “you’re gonna cum all over my dick.”
you could barely get an affirmation out before you couldn’t take the waiting anymore. you knotted your hands up in his hair and pulled him into a sloppy, desperate kiss.
this time you could feel the firmness of his body on yours, the heat of his skin, his burning hot fingers on your bra clasp. a quick movement that made your bra pop free.
you pulled it off as soon as it was undone, dropping it off the seat while his tongue was still in your mouth.
you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him flush against you. a groan slipped out of his mouth, caught up in yours as his weight pressed you down into the leather — his chest on your tits, his dick hard against your pussy, separated from you by just the soaked fabric of his sweatpants and your thong.
“fuck, baby,” he sighed, rocking his hips, dragging his clothed bulge back and forth over your clit so slowly while you murmured his name, telling him how good he made you feel, how wet he got you. you let him tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, whining for more.
“tell me what you want,” he coaxed sweetly between thrusts. “want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”
"fuck me… i wanna feel you so deep in me—" it all spilled out of your mouth in a stupor.
“y’know i’m gonna give you anything you want, don’t you?”
“you’re gonna take care of me?” you shuddered.
his reply was a low murmur against your neck. “don’t i always?”
his big hands travelled over your skin, his long fingers hooking over the sides of your panties, easing them slowly downward. he slipped them off you and looked down cloudily, his eyes grazing over every inch of bare skin.
“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this,” he said softly.
you breathed his name, tracing your hands down his abdomen, over the light sheen of sweat on his skin. you reached down to palm the hard outline of his dick through his pants, hearing him breathe shakily as you pulled his zipper down.
you pulled his sweatpants and boxers down together, and he let you. he watched, inhaling through bared teeth, as you pulled his dick out and wrapped your fingers around it.
“you’re so big,” you murmured, met with a soft groan.
he was so hot, so hard, throbbing in your hand. he was already slick with precum, the slit of his dick oozing, smearing more onto your palm. but you were a bigger mess — your pussy dripping onto the seat beneath you as you spread your thighs wider around his hips, dying to take him.
“baby, baby,” he moaned softly, shuddering as you tightened your grip on his dick. gliding your palm back and forth, dragging his precum all the way down to the base and back up, you could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, getting him even stiffer.
eyelashes fluttering against his feverish face, his eyes tracked your hand as you stroked him. “look what you’re doing to me. feel how bad i want you?”
“are you gonna give it to me, jaafar?” you whined.
“so eager,” he hummed, fixing his eyes between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours. “i wanna take my time with you.”
he shifted beneath you, reaching past your hips to release the lever on the side of the seat. with a click, he leaned the seat back, moving you so that you were on the seat. he was hovering over you now, his heavy frame pressed between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours.
you hung onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin as he wrapped a hand around his dick, supporting the heavy weight of it in his palm as he positioned himself above you. with the tip over your pussy, he gave the shaft one slow stroke up from the base and watched his precum dribble onto your clit.
“i need you inside,” you gasped.
“can you even take the whole thing?” he asked so sweetly.
you didn’t know if you could, not with the size of him, but you wanted it so bad that you nodded anyway.
you saw him smile a little in the low light before he craned his neck down. “we’ll see.”
he pressed his dick to your pussy and slid all that wetness — his precum, your arousal — over it. he stimulated you over and over, until his breaths were coming fast and heavy, and you were whimpering about how good it felt.
“jaafar, please,” you begged. “i want more.”
“you’re so sweet for me; ‘course i’m gonna give you as much as you can take.” he tapped the head of his dick against your clit. not hard, but enough of a pleasurable jolt that you bucked your hips up, chasing the touch. “but first i want you to see how deep i can get.”
he laid the hot length of his dick on your pussy, letting the wetness on his shaft meet your skin. you were soaked with slick, glistening all over your thighs
jaafar got it messier, sliding his dick over your cunt — back, then forward — stimulating your clit with the head each time he moved through your folds.
he stopped with his dick laid out on your stomach, heavy and throbbing.
“you’re gonna feel me in your stomach, baby.” he slurred.
“i want it,” you shuddered, pulling him into another kiss as he rubbed himself over you.
“i know you do, i know.”
he pulled back then, dropping his body down a little to position the tip of his dick against your fluttering entrance. you craved the stretch, gasping at the tail end of a kiss.
he lingered there — breath shaky and catching in his throat.
“okay, baby, okay,” he whispered as he pushed inside, just barely stretching your entrance around the tip.
you both moaned at the same time.
a little further in, the heat of him filled you, his dick stretching your walls open.
“oh, you’re so wet,” he groaned.
he was shuddering, and you were gasping, “you feel so good.”
he was so hard for you, so snug against your walls that you could feel his dick pulse as he pushed in deeper, his lazy voice dripping with euphoria, “so good for me, baby... feel good when i fuck you raw? are you getting what you wanted?”
“yes, yes... more.”
“so tight,” he murmured, and you clamped down around him, hearing him suck in a breath through his teeth. “y’have be careful squeezing me like that… might cum inside you. you know i shouldn’t do that.”
“but i want it.”
“yeah? you want me to fill you up. make me yours?” his breath caught as he pushed the throbbing length of his dick further in, filling you up deeper and deeper with what you’d been wanting so desperately. “you want me to fill you up, baby? wanna be my girl?”
“yes, j,” you gasped, fingers knotting tight in his soft hair, pulling his mouth inches from yours. “i wanna be yours.”
each word was breathy, said with so much pleasure that it made your insides expand to accommodate more of him. one glance between your spread thighs — where he was lowering his lean weight as he sank his dick into your puffy, wet pussy — was enough to make your toes curl on the leather seats. watching him sink deeper was too much; you were unable to hold your soft moans in.
“you like watching me stretch it out, don’t you?”
you nodded with your lip caught between your teeth, unable to manage an answer, just a whine.
“jaafar,” you gasped, fingers knotting in his soft hair as you looked up into his dark eyes. “i want all of you.”
jaafar’s gaze softened, a heavy, tender warmth breaking through the haze of pleasure on his face. he leaned down, hovering just an inch over your lips, his hot breath fanning across your mouth as his hips kept a slow, agonizing grind against yours.
“you have me, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and rough with emotion. “all of me. i’m all yours.”
“yeah?” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“yeah,” he murmured, placing a lingering, desperate kiss on the corner of your mouth before sinking his dick just a fraction deeper. “always been yours.”
you forced your eyes open, watching him sink in a little more. he stopped short, not pushing all the way in yet; you were already so full, and the bottom of his thick shaft was still visible. he fucked you like this — giving you as much as you could take, making sure you adjusted to him.
“feels so good in you, baby.”
you were so tight, so sensitive that you could feel him throbbing in you. when he pulled his dick almost all the way out, you could see it twitch before he stroked your wetness down the shaft, telling you to look how wet you were getting him. he was all lubed up from your pussy, practically dripping, and when he pushed back inside to fuck you, he was even harder.
you could barely keep your eyes open to watch, your eyelashes fluttering as you whined for his dick. “so fucking good... i’m so close—”
“you wanna cum again?” he asked, fucking you a little faster, a little deeper. “be good and watch yourself make a mess on my dick.”
your body treated his words like a command. the craving for him was physical. your body was so desperate for his guidance that as soon as he gave it, the knot in your stomach released with a rush of pleasure.
your mouth dropped open and you were cumming, digging your fingernails into his biceps and whimpering, trying to keep your heavy eyelids open so you could watch him fuck you, seeing your pussy drenching his length.
“thaat’s it baby, baby, there y'go... see how good this pussy is for me, how wet it gets for me?” his strokes slowed down as your orgasm died down, but he was still fucking you through every contraction; filthy words on his tongue said so sweetly, “see how fast it cums for me? how many orgasms are you gonna let me fuck out of you, princess?”
“more,” you gasped. “more—”
“you’re gonna let me fuck more out of you, huh? you’re gonna let me give you everything you need?”
“yes, jaafar, yes.”
your pussy was so sensitive from cumming that the stimulation felt insane. you’d barely come down from your last orgasm, and somehow you were building up again.
“cumming so much for me... i know you needed this so bad, baby.”
“i need it so much, j,” you whined. “please... keep going. i think... i think i’m gonna—”
“already?” he groaned, fucking you harder, faster, slurring, “oh, fuck, i can feel it... give me another, lemme feel you cum again.”
it was so good, each stroke getting you closer, but you were craving more, something deeper. “jaafar, give the whole thing, please. 'want all of it.”
he swore under his breath, shaking his head, so much pleasure on his face. “i don't wanna overwhelm you.”
“please, j.”
and he wasn't going to say no to you.
so you watched him sink his dick in, your wetness coating the shaft further down. as he pushed all the way in, the head of his dick kissed right against your cervix — a deep, intense stretch that made you gasp, your toes curling around his waist.
he groaned, raw satisfaction making his voice hoarse, and pulled back slightly, breathing hard. “you doing okay, baby?”
“yes, yes, yes— it feels so good.”
“tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice thick as he pushed inside, going deep. “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
you nodded, so much tension stored up in your quivering walls as he coaxed them open. you whined for more, wanting him deeper.
“you want me to give you the whole thing? yeah? you wanna take my dick deep?” he put a big hand on your stomach, pressing down on it as he pushed forward, coaxing, “oh, fuck, baby, you’re taking so much... doing such a good job for me— such a good girl, takin' it all.”
you took it all the way — right up against that sweet pressure, taking every single inch of him. you locked your legs around his waist, tears beading in your lashes, “you’re so big, jaafar, ’m so close.”
he was getting so much gratification at the end of each stroke. he felt it in his catching breath, in his long fingers as they pressed into your lower stomach, feeling himself fucking you, feeling himself buried deep inside.
he pulled back for another stroke, thrusting back in, and you watched his face change as he got all the way in — his eyes flitting down to your pussy, his mouth dropping open slightly when he saw you taking him balls deep. his eyebrows knit as he watched himself move in and out, his entire length coated in you.
“takin’ it so deep,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “no one’s ever made...” he was overwhelmed, unable to finish his sentence, gritting his teeth as he pushed back in.
you were begging for it harder, getting fucked with his big hand on your stomach and that full feeling making your walls clench around his dick with every thrust.
his mouth met your skin, kissing your jaw and cheek as he fucked you, his mouth kissing at your neck before he murmured, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”
“yeah— f-feels so good.”
“you want me to mark you up, baby? you want me to fuck you so deep, you feel it in the morning?”
you whined for it. “yes, yes, please.”
it was all building up, getting sloppier, more needy — his thrusts, his words slurred against your throat, his breaths catching as you tangled your fingers into his hair and tightened your legs around his waist. his voice was so breathy with pleasure, so desperate for release, making your pussy clench up around him each time he murmured to you.
“i’ve been so close for so long, baby... you don’t even know how close i was earlier when i felt you cumming on me. almost had to pull out, wanted to fill you up so bad.”
“i want you to fill me up,” you gasped.
“i can’t do that, baby,” he panted against your throat, fucking you hard enough to make the car rock with each thrust. “god, i want to... but you know i shouldn’t.”
“please...” there was a tremor in your voice, another wave threatening to wash over. “you said you’d give me anything i wanted.”
“fuck,” he murmured. “how am i supposed to say no to you?”
there was tension in the hot air, the windows fogged up with the warmth of your rocking bodies and desperate breaths. you were both so close.
“you really want my cum?” he asked, his voice raw.
“i need it,” you whined.
then he was groaning softly, your moans getting louder as he panted, “cum on me, baby... cum and i’ll fill this you up, i’ll get you nice and full just like you want.”
that was all it took — the promise of being full of his load, and you crashed over, gasping, “i’m— oh f-fuck—” the curve of his dick hit just right, splitting your convulsing walls open as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside.
“such a good fucking girl,” he slurred as your walls gushed all over his dick, digging his fingers into your ass. “you deserve so much cum, baby—”
his lashes fluttered, his face dropping forward, and then he was half-panting, half-moaning against your jaw, his thrusts sloppy, his hips catching as his dick twitched inside you. you could feel every inch of him, every pulse as your sensitive walls clenched around him.
he came in spurts, a growing fullness as he shot his warm load deep into you. it was pulled further inside with each contraction of your walls, but there was so much of it that as his strokes went lazy, it gushed out around his dick and dribbled down your skin.
he stayed deep until you were both done, and when he pulled out — looking down, breathing hard — his dick was glistening, a mess of your cum and his, a little white surge leaking from the tip and dripping onto your stomach.
he swore under his breath, his face flushed.
“look at you,” he murmured. “you’re so pretty, baby.”
then his lips were on yours again. he placed a light kiss on the left corner of your mouth.
you looked over at him in the soft glow of the dashboard — the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth.
“i meant what i said, you know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “about being yours. it’s not just because of tonight. i’ve cared about you for way too long to ever let this be just a one-time thing.”
"yeah?" you squeezed his hand in yours, your thumb tracing the familiar lines of his knuckles.
"yeah."
you leaned up, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to his lips, feeling him immediately melt into it. when you pulled back, a teasing smile broke across your face as you looked at him.
“you know... i really didn't expect you to be such a dirty talker.”
a sheepish grin broke across his face. his chest rose and fell in a breathy laugh as a flush crept up his neck. "i don't know... you brought it out of me."
for years, you’d convinced yourself that love was supposed to be something you had to chase, something complicated that always left you feeling like you were settling for less than you deserved. you’d let other men touch you without ever really seeing you, leaving you wondering why it never felt the way it was supposed to.
but the truth was undeniable. it had always been him. the boy who knew every version of you, the friend who’d spent years quietly holding your world together, was the only one who could ever really have all of you.
jaafar brought your joined hands up to his lips, placing a tender kiss over your knuckles.
───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───
once again, i got carried away </3
also ik i had more things listed in the cw in the ss i posted the other day but it was getting a bit too long.. don't be mad at me
summary: a love you’re not used to but Jaafar makes the transition easier..
contains: avoidant reader, comforting love, reassurance, pet names
A/N: my bby @siighrns helped me ;))))) enjoy lovelies !
“Baby you have to talk to me” Jaafar said. Actually repeating for god knows how long. Your eyes stand down at the kitchen floor and your manicured toes.
You bit some of your bottom lip, then meeting his eyes, “I….i can’t j” you reply.
You’ve never been one to speak about your emotions let alone someone see them. You’ve always thought that words are meaningless yet mean so much at the same time.
So when it does come time to talk about those emotions, you leave. When it comes time for your emotions to come into play with actions, you leave.
That was your solution for the longest. Until you met Jaafar.
You’re pretty boy, the light to your storm. The one who made a simple breathe seem so peaceful.
Now Jaafar always knew you weren’t the best with your emotions and words. So he always made sure to be patient, understanding and loving like he’s shown you since the beginning of your relationship.
And you secretly hate it. Not because you don’t like him or love him no. His type of love is new to you. He shows vulnerability more easily than you.
Which is why you two are here. An argument that goes into a conversation where Jaafar tries to get you talk about your emotions once again.
Since his new movie fame, he hasn’t been able to manage his schedule with fitting time for you in. And it hurts you so bad. But you wouldn’t tell him that.
You look back down at your orginal view of the floor, hugging yourself, the slience killing you. Like he’s judging you or giving up on you.
Tears begin teasing your eyes.
“I’m right here love, I’m not leaving nor judging you.” He says breaking the distance. He brings a hand to your chin, lifting your head to meet his.
Your eyes meet his and your mouth instinctively pouts, “I know but how am I supposed to know that you’re not gonna leave? It’s so simple J, you could just wake up and choose to leave me. Us.” You mumble out, your eyes looking to the side as tears fall down your cheeks.
Jaafar brings his thumb to wipe your tearunderneath your eye. “Because I love you, and I’ve shown and will continue to show you I’m not going anywhere love” he reassures you.
Your eyes drift away from his. Knowing his words are full of authenticity and love.
“I just….” You say then cut off from the fact that Jaafar might actually be the one to break that barrier you’ve had up for so long.
His eyes look down at you with hope, “What is it baby? Tell me and I’ll still be right here angel” he says softly reassuring you with your words instead of demanding.
That was your favorite thing about Jaafar. He never demanded or rushed you. He waited with love and care.
“I just..I miss you, I miss our lil movie nights, or our cook in nights, and I miss your touch.” You say rambling one, “And I know you can’t do anything about your schedule but can’t you just squeeze me in? Or even try?” You continue on not giving him a chance to speak.
You opens your mouth to speak but he beat you to it, “I miss you to angel, and all those special moments we have, and yes I’ll start trying harder to make time for my pretty girl” he says gently, wiping your tears.
You eyes wide realizing you did it. Without even knowing, you just opened your mouth. Jaafar chuckles at your reaction. He brings you close into his chest, hugging your waist.
You wrap your arms around Jaafar’s neck, “I love you so much baby” he says in your ear, pressing kisses down your neck to your shoulder.
“I love you too” you reply, kissing his jaw. Removing yourself from the crook of his neck to pout out for a kiss on the lips.
Jaafar’s lips tug a smile and a laugh, “Jaafar! Give me a kiss quit it!” You yell playfully, slapping his chest.
“Alright ms kisses” he says bringing you closer, into a deep passionate loving kiss.
You immediately knew that you’re heart is in the right place..
summary: based on this poll when i was feeling some of type of way clearly lol
types/warnings: boyfriend! jaafar x black f! reader; first time!!!, sending videos, f! masturbation, creampie
word count: ~2563
author’s note: IM BAAAAACK!!! i’m sorry i took so long, work genuinely got so busy i had no time but im hoping to be more consistent again. also since im rusty, i dont think this is my best but its been a while since my first time so i think i struggled with trying to capture that fully but i hope y'all like it!!!!! also also, happy batled birthday dada 😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛
Every time you looked art your phone you felt butterflies in your womanhood. The text you sent simply read:
“I’m ready”
A few moments later, Jaafar replied,
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He reacted with a heart before sending another message.
"I love you, and I can't wait."
You weren't fully inexperienced or even naive to sex. You'd spent years discovering your own body, reading fanfiction late into the night, listening to erotic fiction on long drives or before bed, letting your imagination wander. Sex had never frightened you.
Men had.
The opportunity had presented itself more than once, but every man before Jaafar had only confirmed what you didn't want.
They were impatient. There was never any tenderness, never any effort to romance you or understand what made you feel safe. The moment you asked them to slow down, the pressure always followed.
"You can take it."
"You're not that shy."
"Don't pretend now."
And if you pulled away altogether, it somehow became your responsibility to satisfy them anyway.
"It hurts if you leave it like that."
"Can you just suck it?"
"Can you at least touch it?"
The entitlement was exhausting.
It never made you resent intimacy, it only made you more determined to wait for someone who truly understood it and that was Jaafar.
He was patient.
Gentle.
The two of you could spend hours teasing each other until your lips were swollen from kissing, your cheeks sore from smiling, and dry humping until you were both throbbing.
You'd lose yourselves wrapped around each other on the couch or tangled together in bed, content to let the anticipation linger.
There were countless moments when it could have happened.
Moments where everything felt perfectly aligned.
But whenever uncertainty crept into your mind and you whispered, "Not tonight," he never sighed in frustration or tried to change your mind.
Instead, he'd smile.
He'd kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, wherever he could reach, and pull you into his chest.
Even when you would plead with apologies as a reflex, he never rushed you.
"It's okay," he'd murmur, holding you a little tighter, as though reassuring you mattered more than anything else.
That was why, when you finally said yes...
You meant it.
His recent trip to Japan for the Michael press tour had only intensified everything between you. You'd spent time apart before, but this separation felt different. There was an ache to it, a quiet longing that settled into every conversation.
Your messages drifted effortlessly from outfit photos and jokes to paragraphs about how much you missed each other.
You found yourselves saying "I love you" more often.
Not because you needed reassurance. But because you couldn't help it.
One evening, he texted you.
"I miss you so much."
"I miss you too."
"You would LOVE it here. The food is incredible."
"You're making me jealous."
"We're coming back. I'm serious."
"Deal."
"And the view from the hotel is INSANE. Hold on."
A photo came through a second later.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering skyline of Tokyo, the city lights stretching endlessly into the distance.
"Jaafar..."
"I know."
"Okay, no. We HAVE to come here for my birthday."
"Done."
"Same hotel too?"
"Same hotel."
Another photo appeared.
This one was of the room itself: warm lighting, dark wood accents, oversized windows, and a bed that looked almost comically large.
"The room is so nice."
"The bed is MASSIVE."
A typing bubble appeared.
"Kinda feels like it was made for two..."
You laughed, shaking your head before typing back.
"Give me five minutes. I'm on my way."
Three dots danced across the screen almost immediately.
"😂"
"If only."
The joke faded just as quickly as it came.
"I really do wish you were here."
"I just want to hold you."
Your smile softened.
"Just to hold me?" you teased.
"To hold you."
A few seconds passed before another message came through.
"To feel you."
"I miss how warm you are."
Your heart squeezed.
"I wish I was there too."
"I' just miss laying on your chest."
You hesitated before adding another text.
"Amongst other things lol."
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
"Can I show you how much I miss you, Princess?"
A grin spread across your face.
"Please do."
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˙⋆✮
The date itself was simple.
Dinner and drinks at home.
Jaafar had insisted on it, saying he wanted to spend the entire evening making you feel comfortable, cared for, and completely at ease. He always joked that good foreplay started the moment you locked eyes with someone.
Romance, he believed, wasn't something that began in the bedroom, it began the second you saw each other. Every glance, every smile, every touch should make the other person feel wanted.
You had always loved that about him.
Fresh from the shower, you sat cross-legged on your bed wrapped in a towel, absentmindedly scrolling through social media while texting him.
He'd already mapped out the rest of his evening.
"I'm gonna work out for about forty-five minutes, stop by the grocery store, shower, then head to you."
Even mundane updates sounded affectionate coming from him. You caught yourself smiling down at your phone, your heart fluttering at the thought that your first time would be with someone you loved so deeply.
Your mind wandered to what it would feel like. You'd come close before. You knew the feeling of his lips lingering against your neck when you both wanted more, the way he'd patiently worship every inch of you, teasing your body effortlessly and leaving your thoughts spinning with nothing more than a kiss.
The thought of finally being completely vulnerable with him, of looking into his eyes as the distance between you disappeared sent a shiver racing through you.
Before you realized it, your thighs tightened around the edge of your towel that met your womanhood. You closed your eyes, letting your imagination drift has your hips rocked slowly
The thoughts of you moaning with him as he stroked slowly into you.
The way he'd whisper your name.
The thought of looking into his eyes as he reaches your spot.
The way he'd search your face to make sure you were still with him.
The images came so vividly that your breathing slowed, your body responding almost instinctively.
Unable to ignore the growing anticipation any longer, you leaned back against the mattress and reached for your phone.
The video Jaafar had sent you a few nights earlier was still waiting.
The moment it began to play, his familiar voice filled the quiet room. You fingers worked seconds into the video, his hand worked himself over, movements slow as he handled his entire length.
Breathless.
Warm.
Intimate.
"Fuck... baby, I miss you so much."
A smile tugged at your lips before your eyes drifted shut again.
"I can't wait to make you feel good."
"I'm so lucky to be your first."
Your fingers worked in circles on your bud, the pit of nerves balling up in your stomach as you continued with the video.
Toward the end, his breathing became uneven.
"I'm so close, baby."
A small laugh escaped him before his voice softened into something.
"I love you so much, Y/N."
His core tightened and flexed as he finished, simultaneously your rise was coming, you bit your lip and arched your back off the mattress as the wave hit you. You moaned out his name, shaking as you came down.
When the video ended, you lay quietly for a moment, smiling to yourself as your heartbeat gradually slowed.
Soon, he'd be here.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˙⋆✮
You both sat on the couch, your wine glasses refilled more than once but mostly forgotten as you stayed wrapped up in each other. Your freshly shaven legs rested across his lap while his hand lay comfortably on your thigh, absentmindedly tracing slow circles with his thumb.
His eyes were wide, soft as the moon, fixed on you in a way that never felt hungry.
You'd never been looked at with so much love before.
There was admiration in his gaze, but also patience. Like he was content simply to listen to you talk for hours if that's all the night became.
You rambled on about something neither of you would probably remember tomorrow, bouncing from one story to the next while he stayed completely engaged, smiling at all the right moments.
Then the conversation faded into a comfortable silence.
Your heart stumbled.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach so suddenly you were sure they had to be visible on your face.
Jaafar's smile widened.
"You're kinda cute when you're nervous around your boyfriend of two years."
You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile tugging at your lips.
"Shut up," you laughed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. "You're so annoying."
Your cheeks burned because he was right.
He stood first, setting his wine glass on the coffee table before holding out his hand to you.
His smile never wavered.
Warm.
Patient.
Inviting.
You slipped your hand into his without hesitation. Your nerves were still there, fluttering in your chest, but somehow they no longer felt frightening.
Just important.
He intertwined your fingers with his and gently led you toward the bedroom.
Each step made your heartbeat a little louder, anticipation blooming in your chest until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers.
When you reached the bed, you sat together on the edge of the mattress.
Neither of you rushed to say anything.
His hands wandered over yours first, turning them over carefully before lifting one to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand, then your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you smile.
From there, he moved with unhurried tenderness, pressing soft kisses along your wrist, up your forearm, and to the curve of your shoulder before finally finding your collarbone.
Every kiss felt less like a question and more like reassurance.
The tension you'd carried all evening slowly melted away beneath his touch.
By the time his lips reached your jaw, your shoulders had relaxed completely.
When he finally kissed you, it wasn't rushed.
It was familiar..
He rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly.
"I love you so much, Y/N."
"I love you too, Jaafar."
The words came easily.
Not as permission or as an obligation.
But as a quiet promise that you were ready to take this step with the person who had spent time proving he would always make you feel safe.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˙⋆✮
Your thighs clenched around his head as he worked you over with his tongue. Compared to the moments before when he had been slow and intentional, adorning your body with kisses and affirmations.
“I’m so lucky”
*Peck*
“I just want to make you feel good”
*Peck*
“You’re so fucking beautiful”
Kissing all over your body and removing your clothes slowly. This was fast and hungry, but you still felt adored.
He responded to every moan, every wince, every tug at his hair with reassurance.
“Good girl”
“You taste so good”
“You like that baby?”
Your back arched off the bed as you felt your finish come in waves, he latched on to your clit and kept sucking. Reaching out to hold your hand as you clawed at the bed sheets.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he lapped at your juices. He kissed between your thighs as you came down, then up your stomach and chest until getting to you.
He kissed you deep, the deepest kiss so far,
“Are you ready?”
His question carried equal parts tenderness and longing.
You knew that if, in this very moment, you changed your mind, if you told him you weren't ready, he would understand without hesitation.
You could see how deeply he wanted you. It was written all over his face, in the way he looked at you, in the quiet anticipation he could barely contain.
But none of that mattered more to him than you. Making you feel safe had always been more important than getting what he wanted.
And knowing that made you all the more certain. All the more ready.
You kissed him in return, pouring every ounce of your certainty into it.
"Yes."
He lingered there for another heartbeat before easing back just enough for your foreheads to remain touching. His eyes searched yours one last time as his thumb swept across your cheek before he whispered.
"I'll go slow.”
You felt his tip drag along your wet folds before approaching your entrance. You let out a small moan with a quiver as you braced yourself.
He moved slowly, careful enough that you could feel him checking your reaction with every inch. He pushed into you slowly, the pain, though meant to be pleasurable, was anything but.
It felt like a sharp sting, enough to make you wince out as your hands flew instinctively to either side of you, palms open in a silent plea to pause.
He stopped immediately.
Without a second thought, he leaned down, his hands cradling your face as your first instinct was to apologize.
"I'm sorry I ju-"
He gently shook his head before you could finish.
"Don't apologize, baby."
He slipped his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers before lifting them to his lips. He kissed each knuckle slowly, his thumb brushing comforting circles across the back of your hand.
"It's okay."
His forehead found yours again.
"I know this is a lot."
He waited until your breathing began to slow before continuing.
"We don't have to keep going."
His voice was steady, certain.
"If you want to stop, we stop. If you want a minute, we take a minute. Whatever you need, I'm right here."
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand.
You paused to ground yourself before threading your fingers through his again. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, a small smile finding your lips.
"I want this," you whispered as you leaned in for a kiss. The kiss deepened and you felt the shyness melt away to pure intimacy.
Jaafar was shifting as he realigned himself, pulling away from the kiss only to remind you,
"I'm here with you, baby," he murmured, his voice low and breathy.
His eyes never left yours.
As he moved with careful patience, your breath caught as he guided himself slowly into you. You hissed softly through your teeth as your body instinctively tensed, but he stayed anchored to you, holding you close enough that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing against your chest.
"That's it," he whispered.
"Nice and slow."
His thumb brushed across your temple, grounding you as much as his words did.
"Good girl."
"I love you so much, baby."
He never hurried you.
Instead, he paused when your body needed him to, giving you time to breathe before moving again. Every small adjustment was guided by your reactions, every movement measured with quiet care.
His rhythm remained slow and deliberate, less concerned with progressing than with making sure you felt safe in his arms.
You buried your face against his shoulder, letting every uneven breath, every quiet wince, melt into him as he held you close.
His tenderness made the pressure fade away, his motions became pleasurable as you felt your body take him in.
Jaafar, who had been composed as he controlled the experience, started to lose himself in your wetness.
You pulled from his shoulder to give him a kiss, his hips rocked with slightly more intensity, you moaned it his name which only spurred him on.
He was still mindful of the pace but pushed further into you, his full length inside of you. Your body, though tense, felt shivers as he kissed your neck.
“You’re so big Jaafar, it feels so good”
“You’re doing such a good job taking me baby, are you my good girl?”
You nodded
“Let me hear you say it baby, say you’re my good girl”
“I’m your good girl Jaafar”
“Say it again”, his eyes fluttered shut
“I’m your good girl baby”, you felt a ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach
“One more time baby” he gritted through his teeth.
“I’m Jaafar’s good girl”
In an instant he was overcome with his own finish. You felt his liquid pour into you, as he came crashing down on top of you.
He peppered you with kisses and praises and stayed there for a long moment, unwilling to let the space between you return. His kisses became slower, softer, scattered across your forehead, your cheeks, your nose.
"You did so good," he whispered, smiling against your skin.
age gap jaafar where reader isn’t used to being with a MAN
like she’s used to pulling out her own chair, splitting a bill, opening doors for herself etc because of the boys her age she’s been with and it’s just jaafar being a (overprotective) gentleman 😫😫😫😫😫
nonchalant
Jaafar Jackson x fem!reader, 2k
on your first date, Jaafar blows your mind by treating you with princess treatment. he's baffled by your dating horror stories, and is a gentleman through and through - you realize you're finally dating a MAN
When you and Jaafar first got together, you’d been totally unprepared for the way he treats you, it practically knocked you off your feet. And it’s not like this is the first relationship you’ve been in, you’ve gone on plenty of dates and had a few relationships that lasted for a handful of months while in high school and college, but nothing had felt like this.
No one had treated you so sweetly, so kindly, as if you were someone worthy of the purest form of affection. From the moment you met, Jaafar has been a gentleman, through and through. A friend of a friend had invited you to a party, and Jaafar had been taking acting classes with a different friend of the host’s. So your paths crossed, and you were smitten almost immediately.
It would have been harder to resist the near magnetic pull you felt towards him the first second you laid eyes on him, to not spend the whole night staring in his direction. He was almost unfairly attractive, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen by far. Jaafar caught on quickly, felt your gaze on him from across the room and it made him feel shy in ways he’s never known.
Building up his courage, trying to come up with an opening line that wasn’t cheesy or lame, Jaafar eventually made his way over to where you stood in a corner, talking with some friends away from the rest of the room.
“Want a drink?” He offers, extending his hand out to you. For a split second, you hesitate, bowled over by just how perfect he looked up close. But then you slot your hand into his, and it was like the last two pieces of a puzzle slotting into place.
He pulls you away from the crowds, takes you somewhere quiet. Jaafar can’t remember the last time he’s been to a house party like this, all loud and packed and full of alcohol. He also can’t remember ever feeling the way he feels about you.
After spending the whole night talking, you exchange numbers and make a plan to meet up again, for a real date. You practically squeal when you see his text asking you out, feeling like a kid again with your first crush, almost vibrating with excitement and anticipation. You can’t remember the last time anyone asked you out like this, wanting to take you out for a nice meal instead of bringing you back to a dingy apartment.
But Jaafar makes a reservation at a nice restaurant, requests a table in a quieter section so the two of you can talk. He spends far too long agonizing over his outfit choices, changing his clothes three times before he has to leave. Even just the thought embarrasses him, feeling so overwhelmed at a simple dinner date, but there’s something different about you.
When he tells you he’s on his way, that he’ll meet you at your front door, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from grinning as you stare down at your phone. You don’t think, with the exception of prom while you were in high school, that a date’s ever come to your doorway like this.
You’re grateful for his heads up, scurrying around to make sure everything you can see from the front door looks clean and organized. Your bedroom is another story, looking as if a tornado has ripped through your wardrobe with the amount of clothes thrown around. You feel out of practice, like you’ve never been asked out before, because when you think about it, you really haven’t, at least not at this caliber.
Sure, you’ve gone on dates and had relationships that lasted a few months, but no one’s ever treated you like this. You’re already amazed, and he hasn’t even picked you up yet. The last date you’d gone on, you’d gotten an Uber and your date had shown up ten minutes late looking like he’d rolled out of bed.
It had almost been enough to make you swear off dating, but then you’d met Jaafar at that party.
Meeting you at the door, flowers in hand, Jaafar’s speechless when he sees you. You look ethereal, and it makes him feel a little better knowing that second guessing his outfit no less than a thousand times paid off. At the end of the day, he just wanted you to feel like you were cared for, that he was doing everything in his power to make sure you know how he feels about you.
Taking the flowers when he offers them to you, you’re grateful for the excuse to look for a vase so you can grin to yourself like a crazy person. Racking your brain, you can’t think of the last time a boy brought you flowers. You set them up in some water and place them on the kitchen table, where they’ll catch the light and you can admire them all day long.
Now, though, there’s something more important for you to admire. You spend almost the entire drive ogling Jaafar, letting your eyes rove across his face as he focuses on the road. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he can feel you staring, and it makes his chest feel all warm, makes his heart thud against his rib cage.
He feels nervous in ways he can’t explain, because all he wants to do is make a good first impression. Really, what he wants is for you to agree to a second date, and then a third, and then forever, but it all starts with the first date.
Deep down, though, he’s not treating you any differently than he’d treat any other date. He’s been raised to open doors and bring flowers and pull out chairs, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Sure, he’s bringing his absolute a-game because it’s you, but he’s simply treating you like a gentleman because that’s what you deserve.
To him, it feels like the bare minimum, but it’s rocking your entire world.
After he parks, he gets out of the car and makes his way to the passenger side. You open the door before he can get there, though, and you smile self-consciously when he huffs out a laugh.
“I woulda gotten that,” he says it like it’s obvious as you slide out of the car, shutting the door behind you. Because to him, it is obvious, to open your door for you and help you from the car, because that’s what any gentleman would do.
“Oh,” you respond, absolutely shocked at the notion of a date opening the car door for you, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he grins, reaching for your hand, “it just means I have to be quicker next time.”
Just like that, you’re at ease again as you walk the few blocks towards the restaurant. It’s the perfect summer evening, sunny and breezy and warm, and the two of you get so wrapped up in your conversation that you’re a little surprised when you realize you’ve already made it to your destination. Jaafar steps around you and pulls the door open, and the gesture makes your heart flutter.
Jaafar catches the way you smile, and the sight fills him with pride and a little tinge of sadness because it’s obvious that no one’s ever treated you this way and to him, it’s like second nature. Jaafar vows to change that for you, to always make sure you know exactly how much he cares for you, how much he respects you, because it’s the least he can do.
He’d give you the world if he could, but for now he settles for opening doors and pulling out chairs, bringing you flowers and learning your go-to drink orders.
The two of you get shown to your table, and Jaafar makes sure to pull your chair out for you. That same smile blooms on your face, a little shy and self-conscious and so full of affection, he just has to smile back.
It makes him think, as you look over the menu, about how you’ve clearly never been treated right. He knows he’s a few years older than the people you usually date, but it’s not as if he’s recently learned manners, recently figured out how to treat someone when you ask them out. It absolutely baffles him that this is all so new to you, when you should have been treated like this from the very beginning.
As you scan over the prices on the menu, you’re reminded of the times where your date has asked you to split the bill unexpectedly at the end of the date, after being the one to ask you out in the first place. You know that Jaafar would never do that to you. You’re sure that even if this was the worst date of all time, even though it’s already far surpassed any date you’ve ever been on, he’d still pay the bill and drive you home and say you look lovely, because that’s just the kind of person he is.
Over the course of the evening, the two of you relax, finding that steady, comfortable rhythm you’d both noticed when you first met. It seems like suddenly, you’ve known each other for years, and you don’t think you’ve ever had such an instant connection with someone before. He makes you laugh, he truly listens when you talk, and he looks at you like you’re something worthy of being admired.
Any apprehension that had been pressed into you by memories of the failed dates of your past evaporates, and you end up ordering dessert. Unable to make up your mind, Jaafar orders one of each that you’d been torn between and you split them, and it’s such a sweet, simple gesture it makes you feel a little bit nauseous with affection.
With the plates spread out between you, the two of you start trading your dating horror stories, all of the failures and awkward moments you can never seem to forget. Really, before now, you could never seem to escape from those dates, but you have a feeling you’ll never go through those experiences again.
“It’s happened to me, like four or five times,” you say, using your spoon to scoop up more of the whipped cream on the plate. Across from you, Jaafar chokes on his drink in his shock. He coughs a few times and sets his glass down, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“You’ve split the bill four or five times?” He asks through his coughing, still trying to regain his composure, his sense of equilibrium. The thought of anyone having to split the bill on a date after being the one to get asked out, especially when it’s you, is absolutely unbelievable to him. You could have ordered everything on the menu, and he would have happily paid for it, because that’s the treatment that you deserve.
“Mhm,” you nod, sticking the spoon in your mouth, “and once, I got coffee with this guy and I forgot my wallet.”
Jaafar nods, taking a sip of water. You wait until he’s set the glass back down, certain what you say next would cause another coughing fit.
“He paid, and then sent me a Venmo request for eight dollars.” You were right with your guess, and you can read Jaafar’s shock on his face, plain as day. His mouth dropped open momentarily, before its replaced with a smile at the sound of your laughter, which floats around the two of you like music notes in a cartoon love story.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he says adamantly, reaching for your hands across the table. A shiver of delight races down your spine when your fingers touch.
“Wanna hear the worst part?” You ask with a grin, eyes flitting between your interlocked fingers and Jaafar’s face in the warm, low lighting of the restaurant.
“That wasn’t the worst part?”
“My coffee only cost seven-fifty.”
Jaafar squeezes his hand around yours, and another peal of laughter bursts from you. He wants to bottle up that sound, wants to memorize it and play it over and over again. He could never get sick of that noise, could never get sick of you. Even after only a few weeks of knowing each other, even after a single date, he knows it’s the truth.
And sitting across from him, being treated like you’re something precious, someone worth love and attention and respect, you know it too.
this dynamic is so so so fun omgggg thank you for this request i absolutely loved writing it!! feel free to send in more age gap jaafar requests they're my fav right now for sure <3
