Summary: You go on a cruise with your two best friends, unexpectedly running into a very charming Jermajesty Jackson, along with his brothers Randy Jr and Jaafar.
Content - Jermajesty Jackson x fem!reader
Warnings - 18+ (MDNI), SMUTTTT, some dirty talk, soft dom!jermajesty,
w/c: 926
He starts peppering light kisses up your inner thigh, making your back arch off the bed.
“I'm gonna take care of you tonight mama, just let me lead okay?” he says, his fingers slowly curling into the waistband of your thong and pulling them up off of you. You smile, biting your lip and nodding, ready to bend to his every will.
He lets out a satisfied groan at the sight of how wet you are, and you can see him damn near salivating. He presses a soft kiss to your clit, making your body flinch at the contact, and then he starts twirling his tongue in slow circles. Your thighs start to close, overwhelmed by the pleasure but you feel his warm and firm hands holding your legs apart so that he has full access. His pace starts to pick up, making you shake and whimper at every stroke of his tongue.
“Mhm let me hear you” he groans, the vibration of his voice against your clit making your eyes roll up into your head. He pulls back slightly to look up at you, then brings his pointer and middle finger to your slit.
“Look at me”.
Once he makes that eye contact with you, his fingers slowly push into you, curling up to hit that sweet spot. A pathetic strangled moan is all you manage to do as you try your hardest to keep your eyes on his. He starts eating you out again while his fingers pump in and out at a slightly faster pace, bringing tears to your eyes.
“Fuck ugn..please yes” you say as your hands sink into his hair, holding him in place to keep right there.
“Right there yes” your words come whiny and breathy, making him smile at how good he's making you feel. You feel that heat starting to build, and you start tugging slightly at his hair, making him moan into you. Your climax hits you like a freight train on fire, screaming out his name like a final prayer. He keeps fingering you through your orgasm, slowing down as you come down, your legs shaking.
He pulls his fingers out, and brings them to your mouth. You moan softly at the taste of your arousal on his digits, making him bite his lip at the sight of you being nasty for him.
He pulls his shirt off, then his pants, then his boxers. Your brows raise at the sight of his erection. You pull your dress off, letting it fall beside the bed.
“You ready for me?” he asks, slowly pulling on a condom.
“Yes”. he nods, dragging his tip up and down your soaked clit, teasing your entrance. He starts kissing you, moaning into your mouth as he slowly thrusts into you, stretching you out. Your hands grip his shoulders as you let out small moans and whimpers into his ear.
“Faster, please” you whisper into his ear, the sound of your needy voice making him groan. He picks up the pace, the room filling with the sounds of skin slapping, and heavy breathing.
“Fuck you hear that? You hear how wet you are f’me?” he grunts into your ear. You can't even manage to get out a response, the only sounds you manage to make are pathetic whimpers and moans from the overwhelming feeling of him filling you.
He shifts, pulling your legs up onto his shoulders. The new position made him go deeper, his tip now kissing your cervix with each steady thrust and making your legs shake each time he bottoms out.
“Ugh wait I-I cant..too good..too much..” your eyes roll back as you struggle to get the words out, putting a hand to his chest as a weak attempt to make him slow down.
“Come on pretty girl, you can take it. You can take it. Cum for me baby” his voice sounding more desperate now, and hoarse, as he gets closer to his own climax, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place.
Now he's got you pinned down in a mating press, and he starts whispering nasty sweet nothings in your ear, encouraging you to cum for him.
“Cmon baby let me feel you cum on this dick”
And almost on command you feel yourself finally reach your climax, making you shout out his name. The feeling of you clenching and squirting on him brings him over the edge and he releases into you. His hips are stuttering against yours as he whispers your name into your ear. He slows down his thrusts, leaving small kisses on your jaw.
“You did so good y/n…fuck..” he says breathlessly, and then he rolls over and lays next you. The room falls silent now, the only sounds being your breathing as you catch your breath and come down from your shared orgasms. He looks over at you, and pulls you onto his chest, gently stroking your curls and holding your hand with his other hand. You sigh, relaxing into him and enjoying the warmth.
“You okay? You want some water?” he asks softly before kissing your knuckles.
“I'm okay.” you chuckle softly. “I'm great, honestly”. He smiles and kisses your forehead.
You guys lay together for a while after that, talking and enjoying the company. As you lay on his chest, slowly tracing circles with your index finger, you can't help but think about where this will go, especially with the cruise ending in a few days. But, that's a thought for another day.
This was short lolz
A/N - This was really fun to write i’m gonna write for jaafar as well and do some short one shots and little blurbs, maybe some headcannons??
and don’t be afraid to leave me some requests i’d love some inspiration
pairing: Jermajesty Jackson x fem!reader
warning: MDNI; drinking + suggestive
genre: romance w/ strong erotica elements
word count: 4,340
proofread: nope
requests: open
taglist: @bonni-98 @flygirlarchivee (join here)
synopsis: you have recently gotten out of a long-term relationship that has left you cut-off and with walls up. with weeks of relentless persuasion from your friends, you finally decide to join them on a night-out; jermajesty can't keep himself away from you when he spots you
a/n: def listen to sexy boy by air, trust
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ✎﹏﹏𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 a couple months since you last saw him — your ex-boyfriend of almost three years. And yet the pain in your heart still feels raw and anguished. Three years. Poured out right down the drain, like it simply never existed in the first place. Or that's what it seemed like to him.
He wasted no time dwelling on it, on your love, and was already busying himself with nights-out and drinking.
When you two argued for the last time, it was as if the world had cracked in two — straight down the middle — and swallowed you up. It came out of nowhere, leaving you completely blindsided as your world was turned upside down and shaken for all its worth.
When your friends heard of the news, they instantly went into comforting mode and became relentless in getting you back out there. If he can live it up, why couldn't you? You deserve it — to feel wanted.
The convincing and persuasion grew unyielding as the more time passed and the more miserable you became.
You were trying. Seriously.
But splits are never clean. The breakup was messy, the fallout leaving devastation in its wake. You felt cynical after it all and as if you were all boxed up, having nothing left to give, so you hid.
The final straw, though, was the Instagram story he posted right before you blocked him. It wasn't even enough time to fully recover from the pain, or so you thought, but there he was, posted up with some new woman. His skin was covered in bruises and lipstick. It made your stomach twist with hurt and disgust, for yourself and for him.
It shouldn't have mattered. Hell, you knew better than to even stalk. But you needed to see it. You needed to know the way he felt, solidifying that you meant little to nothing to him now. You needed that push.
After seeing that photo, it was enough of a catalyst to finally take your friends up on their offer and join them for what they claimed would be "the best night of your life." Your skin tingles with anticipation for what the night had in store.
You had no idea.
Your friend, Nicole, sent you a text about some new nightclub and their opening night. You knew that meant a crowd, but maybe, that’s just what you needed — to lose yourself in the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, a little buzzed, and engulfed by darkness with blaring music.
You were currently over at your friend Nicole's apartment, along with your other two friends, Alexia and Bridget. The living room space has been converted into some sort of makeup-bar room as everyone gathers around, makeup sprawled around as everyone nurses their own drink. Music pulses as it leaks from the speaker sitting on the side-table, blending easily with the sound of laughter and easy conversations floating around.
It felt like peak girlhood, love and relaxation blanketing you. For the first time in weeks, your chest didn't feel heavy, like you were on the verge of another breakdown. It was light and effortless.
"No, I'm serious! He was, like, weirdly obsessed with my cat," Alexia urges, catching you all up on her latest date disaster.
"Your what?" Nicole immediately asks, shooting her head up and looking away from her mirror.
"Girl, no" Alexia grunts, pointing her mascara wand at Nicole threateningly. "Not like that. Like, my actual cat, Mochi."
"I'm glad she said something, cause I also thought it," Bridget chimes in, holding a hand up in the air as a sign of agreement, another hand on her chest.
"Me, too," you admit with a mischievous grin as you lean into your LED mirror to apply your eyelash glue.
Alexia throws a beauty blender at you. "You guys are awful!"
Laughter fills the space as you all go back to pampering yourself and listening to Alexia finish her ridiculous story.
"He would come over and, like, literally ignore me and go straight to Mochi," she says now, lining her lips with a nice, deep color.
“I mean, he did have a cat in mind,” Bridget jokes, earning another glare from Alexia.
“I can’t with y’all.”
“Anyways,” you interrupt to change the topic, standing up and stretching, “I still have no clue what I’m wearing.”
“Def something sexy, Friend.” Nicole eyes you as you head to your overnight back. You pull out your options and lay them across the floor for everyone to decide on.
“Yes, 100%, I agree,” Alexia excitedly chirps, contrasting to your typical style of softness.
“So then, we’re definitely not going with that first option,” Bridget says, waving a hand dismissively over a butter-yellow top you shoved into your bag last-minute because, knowing them, you needed a safe option.
“What? I thought yellow complemented me,” you argue, picking up the shirt and rubbing the fabric between your fingers.
“Not saying it isn’t, but it’s your first night out in a hot minute. Single, might I add. You need to show off a little,” Alexia says, standing now as she bumps hips with you. You roll your eyes as you shove the shirt back into your bag.
“I just hate my other options,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat as you run your fingers down your face.
“Oooh, this piece Is cute,” Bridget coos as she holds up a random article of clothing that has stumbled its way out of your bag. She smiles innocently as all heads turn to look at the choice, and your heart drops.
It’s a blue, silk dress that your ex bought you a long time ago, on the rare occasion he actually bought you anything to begin with. You were mentally hitting yourself upside the head for even keeping the dress in the first place. Maybe you accidently forgot it in your overnight bag from some other stay, but its presence alone was making that nauseous feeling reappear. God, it was so minute, and you hated yourself for feeling this way over some stupid, stupid cloth. It should be nothing, but why were you so stunned?
Nicole notices it first and immediately tries to hide it before you see. “No, Alex, that’s —”
“From him,” you whisper out, dropping your hands to your side now.
Alexia pales with guilt as she realizes the incident. “I’m so sorry, I had no clue.”
The tears start to swell up in your eyes before you even register them, only realizing once your vision was becoming fuzzy. You shake your head to pull yourself out of this pit that you felt you were finally escaping from. You gave him everything. He took everything from you, but this, tonight? It was yours.
“Not your fault at all,” you say now, wiping your eyes as you go to grab the dress from Alexia. “I hate blue, anyway.” You take one last glance at the dress and tap your foot on the trash-can stand, popping open the lid and tossing the article, much like how he did you.
“You okay?” Nicole comes behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You know, we can just stay in and order greasy food —”
“Oh, absolutely not,” you cut her off. It took me forever to do my makeup.” You reach out to the kitchen island, your hand grasping a cold bottle of whatever hard liquor Bridget decided on bringing. “Who wants to take a shot with me?”
The atmosphere seems to lighten as the girls share a laugh and all surround the island, each pouring a shot and tilting your heads back. The strong, burning liquid sickly coats your throat in a smooth yet stinging feeling as it makes its way down.
You go back to pregaming and finishing up your looks when Nicole says, “Girl, I actually think I have the perfect fit.” She uncrosses her legs and runs off to her room, stumbling as she rummaging around in her closet before returning.
Stepping back into the living room, she dangles a hanger in front of your face. A cute, shorter-than-comfort, dress stares back at you its slick black color hot and dangerous with its low-cut neckline.
“Girl, you know I don’t wear stuff that short,” you say in shock. “I couldn’t.”
“Oh, hell, yes, you could, and you so are.” Alexia says now, pulling you up by your arms as she drags you towards the bathroom. “Put this shit on right now!”
“Your girls are gonna look so hot,” Nicole says, passing you the dress as you flick the bathroom light on.
“And that ass, hello,” Bridget half-jokes, laughing dramatically. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one feeling the numerous shots from earlier as her whole face widens with joy that only could be elicited from inebriation.
You stare at yourself in the mirror, your face glowing as your hair cascades past your shoulders, shiny in the same way your lips are glossy. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have no clue that someone who looked this good was recovering from the worst heartbreak in your life. That this woman staring back in the mirror was the same one who just spent weeks crying on her bedroom floor. Where you healed? Maybe this really was exactly what you needed. There was no way of knowing if it was truth or if the lines were just simply blurred by the vodka, alcohol talking now. It was anyone’s guess as you stripped and began dressing in Nicole’s specially picked-out outfit.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Your assumption about the club being crowded was nothing short of reality. Your uber rolls to a stop at the curb, the pounding music already settling deep in your chest as you thank the driver and open the car door, revealing yourself to the crowd before you. Opening night at any new spot, inevitably, draws large groups, and as predicted, tonight was no different.
“I’m so glad I took that last chug,” Bridget exclaims as you all stare at the buzzing scene before you.
The line was out of the door and almost around the corner now, all waiting for the bouncer to hopefully let them in. The lights leaked out onto the sidewalk with each swing of the door, music hammering into your ears. You tug at the hem of your dress habitually as you all make your way to the front doors. To be truthful, the dress was a lot shorter than you would usually wear willingly, but something about it had stopped you from ditching the outfit altogether before leaving the house. Maybe it was the way it hugged your curves just right, devastatingly accentuating your figure. Or the way your boobs bounced with each step, pushed up just enough. Or the way the fabric tightened at your ass in just the right way. Or maybe it was the alcohol talking again.
“What’re you doing?” Alexia speaks in a hushed tone as Nicole’s dramatic stride parts the sidewalk and walks confidently up to the bouncer.
“Do y’all seriously not listen when I talk?” She sends a friendly, flirty smile at the tall, broad man, his muscles showing through his black polo. “I went to college with Benj,” she answers, referring to the bouncer.
They share a few short words, and with pure astonishment between the three of you, Nicole steps aside briefly as Benj opens the doors to the club, allowing a free entrance.
“I’m sickened,” Bridget says, a hand back on her chest as you all step inside. “I’m never zoning you out again.” The last comment earns a glare from Nicole.
The club is dark and intimate — velvet booths, deep bass, and lights that cut through the haze.
The music is now pulsating through your entire body; ears fill with the sound leaking aggressively from the speakers. The lasers look like liquid skies as they flash and change around the room, lighting up the space and then covering it back in darkness in a rhythmic pattern, in tune with the music. Bodies huddle together, leaving little room for privacy as you’re swept up into the chaos, pulled in further by your friends, etching deeper to the center of the darkness the club offers as the lasers cascade rainbows across faces, highlighting features before erasing them again. It swallows you whole.
“Let’s dance!” Alexia shouts.
You all give yourself over to the bassline and let the music carry you. You throw your head back as you lose yourself, letting the intense sound carry you somewhere else as the lights continue to shift around the club. For the first time in a while, you let your walls down, not worrying yourself with how you look or what you feel. For the time being, it was just you, the music, and the lingering taste of your buzz.
After a few minutes, Bridget yells out over the loud speakers, “I’m gonna go to the restroom!”
You’ve been dancing for about an hour, the edge of nerves melting away as you continue to sway amongst to wave of people.
“I’ll come with,” Nicole offers, following Bridget’s lead as they exit the edge of the floor you have migrated to.
You and Alexia stay behind, dancing together playfully as the music continues to vibrate your being, nestled deep in your chest as it rattled there. You paid no mind to what song was even playing as you just focused on swaying yourself, your curled hair swooshing as the frizz grew. The dress riding up didn’t seem to bother you, either, as you hold onto Alexia and move together. The heat of the crowd grew as the space tightened.
Or maybe the heat wasn’t from the crowd.
At first you thought it was all in your head, like it was just a trick of the lights as they flickered and floated around. Shadows teasing you or the reflection confusing your sight. But as Alexia spins you around, now facing the VIP section near the bar, you were sure this couldn’t be some magical, optical illusion.
He was watching you.
And the way you’ve felt the burn in the back of your head or the goosebumps on your skin for the past hour, something tells you he’s been staring for a while.
You’re first instinct is to think he must be looking at someone else, or is mistaking you for someone he knows, but as the light flashes again, the look is undeniable. Your stomach flips. You do the only thing you know to do and pretend like he isn’t there. You had no idea what to do with this kind of attention anymore.
You quickly steal a glance of him — tall, handsome sharp jawline, curls relaxing against his forehead as a stubble grows on his chin, styled effortlessly as he stands with a small group. Your breath seems to hitch as you feel his stare bleeding into you, dark eyes locked on you. It was like he was daring you to look away, to break the contact first.
A flash of lights illuminates his face for a crackling second, and you can spot the smirk on his plump lips, his intense stare still unwavering. The lights cut out again, and it plunges everyone in darkness once more, coiling the tension tighter. Only the heat of his stare is left burning your skin.
It becomes intoxicating, a back-and-forth pull that lasts all night, growing with each stare and underlying desire.
With each fracture from the strobe light, you wait for him, searching for his dark eyes. It’s a game, and you find him watching you again and again. Each time the lights break through, colors of blues and purples splashing over everyone, he’s watching — smirking, sipping his drink, by his section.
There’s a wordless chemistry floating in the air. You can’t seem to help yourself and start to play along — swaying your hips, biting your lip, flipping your hair, skin glistening each time the light catches you just right.
“He is so eye-fucking you,” Nicole’s voice rings out, having returned from the bathroom hours ago and watching the exchange unfold all night.
“You think so?” you say, turning your head their way, trying to ignore the sensation of being watched as the strobes flash again.
He’s across the floor, sipping his drink, pretending to pay attention to his own group. But every time the strobes hit, there he is — eyes tracing down your body like he’s committing to memory every curve and sway.
The thrill of feeling seen and wanted excites you. You steal another glance back, boldly biting your lip, before turning towards your friends. The sensation of craving pools in your stomach.
“He’s just staring,” you admit innocently.
“Oh, we can tell, girl. It’s like he’s hungry,” Bridget jokingly says.
And as you put the eye-fucking game to the side, wanting it to build, the crowd moves in closer, tightening. Yet he still stands, even as the lights break up the room into snapshots. One second, you would be swallowed by the darkness, then you’re underneath the white light — skin glistening as you throw your head back in laughter. Every time the room blinked, you were somewhere else, but Jermajesty still found you. It was magnetic.
He needed you.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The night carried on, and the staring became much less of a coincidence and more like a beckoning.
Your body was hot and your throat felt dried up from singing your lungs out, the buzz wearing off. As the song was transitioning into one you didn’t feel the need to dance to, you tap your friends on the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m gonna go grab a drink!” you shout over the speakers.
They all nod and smile mischievously. You choose to be oblivious and ignore it, breaking away from the group and heading to the bar. It seems the strobes become blinding when you’re actually trying to walk through them, and you almost feel the need to shield your eyes. You stumble across the floor, pushing through the crowd.
“Excuse me,” you try to say, some hearing and others just ignoring. Your head is angled slightly down as you duck between shoulders and raised arms.
“Can you please —” you start but your forehead brushes against solid muscle and the seductive scent of cologne cutting through the air as you stumble back, halted in your step. You quickly look up to start apologizing.
“I am so sor—"
He turns his head away from his group, and low and behold, there he is — the eye-fucker himself.
Your breath hitches again and for a beat, no one says anything. The music pulsates around you, lights flashing once more, yet somehow, standing just inches apart now, the background seems to melt away and all you feel is his hot stare and the burning in your core.
For the first time tonight, you get a good look at his figure. He’s tall, strong, and devastatingly handsome, possessing a charisma that turns heads without trying.
You dry swallow.
“Guess the lights weren’t playing tricks on me,” he breaks the tension. His voice is sweet and dripping with pure temptation. It’s dangerous, but it excites you, luring you in as the stares grow hotter.
Something new and aching takes over you. “Couldn’t look away?”
He holds his hands up in defiance, showing no shame for his actions. “How could I keep my eyes off a good show?” His voice is dark and low, bodies close now as the crowd pushes back.
You’re lightheaded as his cologne swirls around you, his chain catching the light.
You playfully push him back, feeling the toned skin underneath the shirt that clings just right. He laughs and watches you, unfaltering.
“Well, I hope it was worth your while,” you say now, half-directing your attention to the bartender. You decide on ordering just a lemon shot.
“Make that two, please.” Jermajesty watches as the bartender gets to work immediately, quickly sliding the tiny glasses to their respectful owners. “My tab,” is all he finishes with, turning his head now to you.
You felt your knees would give out beneath you any second.
“You look cute out there, though. I can tell you’re having fun,” he speaks earnestly. You lean on the bar together. The words feel more intimate than generic.
“I could say the same about you,” you respond, eyes flickering from his stare down to his plump, wet lips. The thoughts running through your mind are dizzying and hazed.
His eyes seem to be doing the same as you both look up at each at the same time. He smirks knowingly. “You know, I think I need to repay you.” He runs his fingers idly across the shot glass brim, tracing the wetness from the liquor.
“Yeah, you think so?” Instinctively, your thighs press together as the hotness grows in your core, longing to chase the starved feeling.
He licks his lips as he glances at your own. “Think I can make it worth your while, too,” He scans your face and searches for an answer.
High and breathless, all you can do is nod and mouth a yes. He leans in, his broadness shadowing you. His mouth is barely inches from your ear.
“Follow me,” he says, his words brushing against your ear and lacing the skin with a sickly burn. Your thighs press harder together as the heat pools deeper into your belly.
You jump up instantly, and his head nods in the direction of the bathroom. You get the hint and start to lead the way, his large palm burning into you as he places it on the small your back to guide you through the crowd. The music sounds muffled as blood rushes to your ears, feeling hot and flustered as you make your way to the room. There’s an unspoken understanding as the hunger grows between you two for what one another is needing — to taste each other.
He opens the door for you and before it even gets to click itself shut, his fingers are on the lock. The energy shifting from that gentle guidance to a darker craving. He pushes you up against the wall, the cool tiles stinging against your skin that pokes through the backless dress. His lips meet yours, and the kiss is hungry, wet and dirty. The taste of liquor mixes as his tongue explores your mouth, scooping you out.
One hand finds itself tangled in his hair, the other grasping onto his arm for stability. His large hand holds your waist as the other pushes your head further into the dirty, nasty make-out. Strobe lights leak out underneath the door, painting your bodies in erratic colors as the heat grows. His hand travels down, and soon, it’s lifting the hem of your dress, clawing at the fat of your ass. He smirks against you as a tiny moan escapes your lips, vibrating.
The sloppy, wet sound of your kisses makes your stomach twist, and you start thrusting yourself into him. Without thinking, he mirrors you, hiking a leg up against him for closeness. His mouth finds your neck, sucking and licking with pure, needy desperation as he marks you up. This was dirty and all so sudden, you could swear you were daydreaming when he picks you up effortlessly and plops you down on the sink. He lays a hand against the mirror as the kiss deepens, his strong arm beside your head. You need more of him, and your hand wanders down his chest mindlessly as you two moan into one another. Your fingers begin to inch dangerously low and start to play with his belt.
It’s all so intense and heavy. You feel so alive.
You two pull apart, lips red and swollen as they glisten under the light from the wetness of each other's saliva. The hunger in his eyes doesn’t leave as a smirk reappears. You smile back, still not believing it all. He was handsome and sweaty and hungry, curls ruffled and sticking to his forehead, clothes disheveled and dress riding up. You’re both breathless as he speaks first.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says, staring into you.
You remove your hands from his jeans. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tauntingly counter.
“Cocky girl,” he whispers.
You shrug your shoulders, his hands falling to your waist. “Just observant.” Your eyes quickly glance to the bulge in his pants before looking back up at him.
He sits up straighter now, running a hand through his curls to regather himself, adjusting. “I guess your friends are wondering where you ran off to?”
“I think they already know,” you answer. He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah... probably.”
For a second, neither of you says anything. The music outside pounds through the walls, reminding you that this tiny room isn't frozen in time.
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
“I don't really want this to end with us pretending this never happened.”
You raise an eyebrow. “No?”
“Definitely not.” A crooked smile tugs at his lips. “Give me your number.”
You take his phone, type it in, then call yourself so your phone vibrates and receives his number.
“There,” you say, handing it back.
He glances at the contact before looking up at you again, smiling like he'd just won something.
“Good,” he says. “Because I'd like to continue this.”
Your stomach flutters.
“Not here,” he adds with a grin, nodding toward the door. “Somewhere we don't have a line of people waiting outside.”
You laugh, smoothing down your dress as he lifts you up off the sink.
“Text me,” you say, reaching for the lock.
“Count on it.”
You crack the door open, peeking into the hallway. The music crashes over you as you slip back into the crowd alone, leaving him behind in the bathroom for another minute to collect himself. He smirks as he watches you leave, leaning against the wall as ecstasy crashes over him.
Before you even make it halfway to your friends, your phone buzzes in your clutch.
Unknown: I’ve never lost a staring contest that fast.
Summary: You go on a cruise with your two best friends, unexpectedly running into a very charming Jermajesty Jackson, along with his brothers Randy Jr and Jaafar.
Content - Jermajesty Jackson x Fem!reader, brief interactions with jaafar and randy
Warnings - 18+ (MDNI), building up to smut?, some fluff
w/c: 1779
Day 2-8:
Over the next couple days you and the girls set out to do some fun activities together, occasionally seeing the Jackson brothers.
Day 2 you and the girls went and had yourselves a spa day. Wearing your cozy soft white robes, you got your nails and toes done, a deep tissue massage and a not so pleasant waxing session but the end result was definitely worth it.
Day 3 was probably your most chaotic day. Sabrina was leading with activities today and brought you all down to play laser tag.
“Girl. we’re on a cruise ship and you wanna go play laser tag?” Anya says to Sabrina while putting on her gear
You chuckle and roll your eyes. “She can't have a laser tag feeling?” you say with a childish grin.
After gearing up you all head in to start the round, and there you realize the team you’re up against.Jermajesty and his brothers. You bite back a smile as you make eye contact with Jermajesty, and before he could smile back you aim your laser at him and pull the trigger.
“HA GOTCHA!” you laughed out, hiding behind a wall feeling proud of yourself. He stands there for a second completely dumbfounded before laughing and shaking his head. His brother Randy laugh at him, harder than necessary. Jaafar looks at him with fake disappointment and shakes his head as he holds back his own laughter.
Then BOOM Randy gets shot. He looks up and sees Sabrina standing across from him with a cocky grin. Jaafar runs off and hides, hoping to win the round for his brothers. After a few minutes of hiding and taunting, Anya sneaks up on him and shoots him, earning us a sweet sweet victory. You and the girls join hands and bow dramatically as if in a theatrical play, and start laughing at the brothers. Jermajesty claps sarcastically and his brothers laugh.
Just to taunt him some more you blow a kiss at him before exiting your side of the room with the girls.
“Bro you're BLUSHING" Randy mocks him and Jaafar laughs with him. Jermajesty rolls his eyes and they exit their side of the room.
Day 4 you and the girls decide to go to a salsa class. You decide to wear a cute little low cut red dress that rests right above the knee.
In the dance room there's a mix of all kinds of people from all sorts of places. The instructor starts lining people up, giving everyone a random dance partner as part of the experience. Naturally, you get paired up with Jermajesty.
“Are you stalking me? You're somehow everywhere I go” you say playfully as you stand in front of him. He scoffs, rolling his tongue in his cheek.
“Or maybe you're stalking me. I mean I would stalk me too. I look so good today.”
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. He wasn't wrong. He looks annoyingly good and him standing this close to you is making you notice all kinds of things. The light stubble on his chin. His jaw and the way it clenches when you tease him. His chest peeking out of his slightly unbuttoned shirt, and his gold chain resting perfectly on his collarbone.
The sound of the instructor's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
“Alright everyone, I will start playing the music. Just try not to step on anyone's toes, remember the steps and most importantly have FUN!”
The music starts and you feel his hand on your hip as he takes your hand into his other. He pulls you closer and you start dancing, feeling the music and feeling the moment. He's got this knowing smirk on his face, like he knows the effect he has on you.
“Quit looking at me like that” you say, loud enough for only him to hear
“Like what?” he chuckles
You scoff. He twirls you, making you dance with your back against his chest. It's driving you insane how good of a dancer he is. He twirls you again making you face him. Your faces are unbelievably close now, noses damn near touching. He glances at your lips, like a reflex and he catches himself and forces himself to look into your eyes instead. But then he sees you're looking at his lips. His hand tightens slightly on your hip and your eyes meet his. Your heart is beating so hard you feel like your ribs might give out. The smell of his cologne, and slightly minty breath is making your mind race a mile a minute and you get completely lost in him. Well almost. The music ends and the rest of the people in the room, that you definitely forgot were there, start cheering proudly and laughing amongst themselves. Jermajesty lets go of you, as if he also just came to his senses and chuckles nervously while scratching the back of his neck.
“Uh- you're a great dance partner” he says with a smile, his cheeks a new shade of red you've never seen on him before. You smile back at him and nod. Before you can give him a verbal response your friends pop up, startling you a bit.
“Alright y/n lets go. They paired me with this thirsty old man and I wanna get outta here before he tries to make me his sugar baby” Anya says, making you and Sabrina cackle. You wave bye to Jermajesty, and he waves back, but you don't miss that look in his eyes before you disappear past the doorway.
It's night 8. There's another party tonight and you and your girls are getting ready, laughing and talking.
“So y/n…you hoping to see your man tonight?” Sabrina asks, raising her brows suggestively and holding back a laugh. You roll your eyes and laugh at her remark.
“He is not my mannn. Haven't even seen the dude since we went to that salsa class” you say as you finish putting on your makeup. Anya and sabrina exchange knowing looks, biting their tongues. You give yourself a final look in the mirror fixing your dress. A backless, black dress that you most definitely wore with the intention of having Jermajesty see you in it.
You all walk into the party. The music is bumping, the crowd is turnt and the vibe is up. You all collectively agreed not to drink tonight so you book it to the dancefloor, dancing together and feeling the music. A couple songs later you turn and see Sabrina dancing with Jaafar, making you smile. Then you feel the hands on your hips. You turn to see Jermajesty in an all black fit, gold chain and of course he smells incredible.
“Hey stranger” he says with a smirk on his face
You scoff and pull him in to dance with you, earning a low chuckle from him. His hands land on your lower back, the unexpected skin to skin contact making his heart jump in his chest.
A few songs later he suddenly dips his head lower, putting his lips by your ear.
“I wanna talk to you, alone”. The gentle but assertive tone in his voice makes your stomach flip into itself. Before you can respond he takes your hand, swiftly guiding you out of the crowd and out of the party. You walk with him for a while, just talking and cracking jokes and getting to know each other. You end up in his cabin, talking to him about nonsense while he sits on his bed looking up at you like you're about to be his last meal.
You pause mid sentence, realizing he's been staring.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer” you say playfully, your bottom lip settling between your teeth. He smiles and stands up, walking up to you till he's right in front of you, your bodies almost touching.
“You know, ever since I bumped into you at the bar i havent been able to get you out of my head.” he says softly while he tucks a stray curl out of your face, his finger lightly grazing your temple. The playful energy has gone out the door, replaced by a tension you've never experienced before in your life. He licks his lips as he stares at yours.
“And for the past four days I have thought about these beautiful lips…” his thumb tugs at your bottom lip lightly. Your knees basically turn into mush.
You look into his eyes and smile softly.
“So kiss me”. His brows raise slightly, caught off guard by how direct you were being. But then he smiles, pulls you into him by your hips and kisses you. It starts off gentle, slow. You practically melt into him as the kiss deepens, the room echoing the sounds of your lips and uneven breathing. His hands start exploring, moving past your hips and onto your ass. He uses one hand to pull your leg up on his hip, gently squeezing your thigh. Without breaking the kiss he starts moving you towards his bed, slowly settling you down on your back with him settling between your legs.
He pulls back and looks at you. Gosh he loves the look on your face right now, slightly flushed, and very clearly hungry for more of him. He starts kissing you again, moving from your lips to your jaw, then your neck, all while his hand caresses your hip and thigh. A subtle moan escapes your lips, making him pause.
“Right there? You liked that?” he asks, trying to pull more of those sweet sounds out of you. He starts kissing your neck sloppily, the feeling of his tongue making your legs clench around his hips. He smiles against your neck and pulls back, brushing your hair out of your face. “Lemme see that pretty face baby”
He starts trailing kisses down your chest and stomach through the fabric of your dress and your hands move up his shoulders into his hair. He stops at the bottom of your dress, his eyes boring into yours. He gently presses his lips to your inner thigh while he holds your leg against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation.
“Hey, uh uh look at me mama. Don't close your eyes..”
You open your eyes to see him kissing and licking at your thigh.
“Can i taste you?” he asks, trailing his pointer finger up and down the damp fabric between your legs. The feeling makes you gasp, and squirm a little.
“Y-yes, please” you say, nearly cringing at how needy you sounded, and he's hardly done anything to you yet.
- Part three is gonna be pure smutttt i really reached flow state. lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist and i will try to have part 3 out a little quicker than this one 🫰🏽also accepting requests
me feeling the writers block leave my body completely after being retired from wattpad since i was 16 🧍🏽♀️if i only i knew about the tumblr community sooner ESPECIALLY my fellow black writers yall have revived me thx
okay! so it’s fluff with a side of angst. but could you write something with jaafar where either you guys are friends, but have feelings for each other. one night, he gets drunk , and you have to take care of him. he compliments you more than usual and drunk confesses that he has feelings for you. you think he’s lying, so you just disregard it, and don’t want to ruin the friendship, you don’t tell him what he said. he starts pestering you though, cause he notices you’re being distant, and it ends how you want it to end queen!
♡ — drunken confessions
jaafar jackson x female reader
summary: jaafar gets very drunk at the michael premiere after-party. once you get him to your apartment, he drunkenly confesses the feelings he's always had for you, but you believing that he doesn't mean it, he's just drunk, brushes it off so you don't ruin your friendship
themes: best friends to lovers, drunken confessions, slight angst, miscommunication, fluff
author's note: my first jaafar imagine, i hope you enjoy
2026
los angeles
you've always thought jaafar was an affectionate drunk.
having been friends for the last ten years, you'd seen jaafar drunk a multitude of times, but tonight was a little extra. you didn't blame him, though. tonight had been the premiere of the michael movie in los angeles, and you knew just how hard he'd worked on it over the last three years of his life. the film had cost him more than long hours and endless rehearsals. he'd lost his relationship with his ex-girlfriend because of it. she couldn't handle that nearly every spare moment he had disappeared into rehearsals, filming, and the overwhelming responsibility of carrying a story that meant so much to him.
jaafar had taken the breakup surprisingly well. it didn't seem to bother him that she'd left, but it meant everything to him that you hadn't. you'd stayed, just like you always had, never asking him to choose between you and the role he'd poured himself into. somewhere after the relationship ended, he'd finally admitted something to himself that he'd spent years trying to ignore.
he'd been in love with you for a long time. looking back, he realized the only reason he'd ever started dating maddie was because he never believed you could possibly look at him the way he looked at you, and he couldn't bear the thought of ruining the friendship the two of you had built. having you in his life was the most important thing. it didn't matter what role you occupied in it, as long as you were still there.
when jaafar asked you to attend the premiere with him, you immediately agreed. you'd been ecstatic when he'd first landed the role, and ever since then, you'd watched him dedicate every ounce of himself to portraying his uncle the way michael deserved to be portrayed. you knew this wasn't just another acting job to him. it was personal. it was family. it was an opportunity to give michael's story the care, dignity, and justice it had always deserved.
there had been countless nights during filming when jaafar would show up at your apartment long after rehearsals ended, sometimes well past midnight. the sound of the lock turning would make your heart jump before you remembered you'd been the one who gave him a spare key. by the time you walked into the living room, you'd usually find him already collapsed across your couch, exhaustion written into every line of his body.
he'd always apologize, insisting he hadn't wanted to wake you, but admitting he just couldn't bring himself to go home. your apartment had become a place where he could finally let the weight fall off his shoulders. whatever waited for him at home had never offered the same comfort you did.
after watching him give absolutely everything to this role, there was nowhere else you would've been tonight.
then came the after-party.
people had been praising jaafar all night, congratulating him, telling him how incredible he'd been, but none of it carried the weight your words did. every time you told him how proud you were, that shy, wide smile spread across his face, so reminiscent of his uncle's that it never failed to make your own smile grow in return. he'd lean in close enough for only you to hear, whispering a quiet thank you against your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
each time he caught you telling someone else about the months of work, the relentless rehearsals, and the dedication he'd poured into becoming michael, something inside him softened a little more. he'd never really had someone outside of his parents brag about him like that. coming from them was expected. they were his parents. but you didn't have to do any of it, and yet you spoke about him with a pride that made it feel like his accomplishments belonged to you, too. every word only made him fall a little harder for you.
but you couldn't help bragging about him. you were so unbelievably proud of him, and you wanted everyone in the room to know exactly how hard he'd worked to get here. every compliment people gave him felt deserved, every congratulations long overdue, and hearing others finally recognize everything you'd watched him sacrifice over the last three years filled you with a quiet kind of happiness.
you'd also been in love with jaafar for years, you'd just never been brave enough to tell him.
just like he'd assumed about you, you'd spent years convincing yourself he could never possibly feel the same way. when he started dating maddie, every insecurity you'd buried suddenly felt confirmed. you'd smiled through it because that's what best friends did, but behind closed doors, it had devastated you more than you'd ever admit. still, as the months went on, you noticed something that kept your heart from breaking completely.
having a girlfriend hadn't changed the amount of time he spent with you. if anything, he still showed up at your apartment just as often, still called you first, still wanted you beside him for everything that mattered.
you'd never had anything against maddie. she'd always been kind enough to you, but you knew she didn't like you. she never fully believed jaafar whenever he'd tell her that you were "just his best friend," and that you were a girl she "didn't need to worry about."
she worried anyway, especially when it seemed like jaafar continued spending more time with you than he did with her. that had been another reason she'd eventually broken up with him.
what maddie never understood was how you could be so oblivious. the first time jaafar introduced the two of you, she'd seen it immediately. the way he looked at you. the way his attention instinctively drifted back to you no matter who else was talking. the way his face softened whenever you laughed. to her, it had been painfully obvious that jaafar was completely in love with you.
to you... he was just your best friend.
selfishly, you'd been relieved when they broke up. the guilt over feeling that way lingered, but you couldn't deny the quiet comfort that settled over you afterward. you had jaafar all to yourself again.
watching him now, moving effortlessly through the room as cameras flashed around him, stopping to pose with other celebrities who'd come to celebrate the premiere, accepting their praise with that bashful smile that somehow still hadn't changed after all these years, made something warm bloom inside your chest. he looked genuinely happy. lighter than he'd been in months. his smile was so wide it seemed to brighten everything around him. he deserved every second of it.
you also knew the exact moment he got drunk.
jaafar was… shy, at least in public. around people he trusted, his personality came alive. he'd joke around, laugh until he couldn't breathe, tease everyone in sight, and somehow become the loudest person in the room. but industry events were different. he usually stayed reserved, speaking when someone approached him, smiling politely, and letting everyone else command the attention.
but, now... he was everywhere, talking to everyone. shaking hands, laughing, and dancing. you knew exactly what that meant.
you were halfway through a conversation with his brothers, randy jr. and jermajesty, when jaafar suddenly appeared beside you and reached for your hand without a second thought.
"come on, mama, dance with me," jaafar had said, earning matching smirks from his brothers, both of whom had known for years that jaafar was hopelessly in love with you. ever since maddie ended things, they'd been relentlessly telling him to stop dancing around his feelings and finally tell you the truth.
"someone's had lots of liquid encouragement," you tease and jaafar rolls his eyes, his grip on your hand tightening.
"please?" he asks again as his lips form into a pout. his brothers immediately burst into quiet laughter.
"come on, girl, you see he's practically begging," randy jr teases you and you roll your eyes before squeezing jaafar's hand and letting him pull you toward the dance floor, the whistles and teasing calls from his brothers following close behind.
jaafar wastes no time spinning you beneath his arm before pulling you flush against his chest. you naturally slide your arms around his neck as the two of you begin swaying together with the music, his hands settling comfortably at your waist like they'd always belonged there.
"did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asks and you laugh, because he has. multiple times, actually. from the moment he'd picked you up earlier that evening, he'd found every excuse possible to compliment you.
"yes, j, thank you again," you say with a smile.
"no, no... really... you're the prettiest person i've ever seen," he says and you feel warmth immediately spread across your cheeks. your heart stumbles for just a moment before you gently shake your head, convincing yourself it was only the alcohol talking.
jaafar had always been an affectionate drunk, that was all this was, you told yourself.
"you're so drunk right now," you say with a small giggle and jaafar's smile immediately widens at the sound.
"your giggle is like music to my ears, always has been," he says as he spins you again, and you feel warmth rush back into your cheeks.
"you're really laying it on thick tonight," you say and jaafar gives you a playfully exasperated look.
"good god, woman, can you just take a compliment?" he teases, making you laugh even harder as you roll your eyes. every word that came out of his mouth only convinced you further that he was definitely drunk.
"okay, fine... thank you jaafar, you're very sweet," you say and he smiles like you just handed him the greatest gift he'd ever received.
"only for my favorite girl," he says and you shake your head again, brushing the comment aside just as the song comes to an end. jaafar takes a step back before giving you an overly dramatic bow that makes another giggle escape you.
"this isn't bridgerton, j, you don't have to bow to me," you tease and he looks up at you with a grin that somehow manages to be both playful and impossibly sincere.
"you always have to bow in the presence of a queen," he says, and you instinctively bite down on your lip as heat blooms across your face for what feels like the hundredth time that evening. "do you want another drink?" he asks.
"i think you need to be cut off," you say and he immediately sticks his bottom lip out into another exaggerated pout, letting out a drawn-out whine.
"come on, i'm not even that drunk," he says and before you can stop him, he's already weaving his way back toward the bar in search of another drink.
with a quiet sigh, you turn back toward randy jr. and jermajesty, only to find both of them already watching the two of you with knowing expressions. neither of them had taken their eyes off you during the entire dance, and judging by the amused looks they exchanged, they were probably continuing whatever conversation they'd been having while you were out on the floor. they were once again wondering how two people could spend so many years orbiting each other without realizing what everyone else seemed to see so clearly.
you simply shook your head at their brothers' antics, and they laughed. randy jr. flashed you an encouraging thumbs up, making you roll your eyes before turning to follow after jaafar. somehow, you already knew it was going to be a long night.
you were right.
by the time the premiere festivities finally came to an end, jaafar was so drunk he could barely stay on his feet. randy jr. and jermajesty had to help you guide him out to the car, each of them taking one side while you stayed close in case he lost his balance. despite how exhausted everyone else looked, jaafar remained blissfully unaware of the spectacle he was creating.
the entire ride back to your apartment, he talked almost nonstop.
he rambled about how happy he was that the movie was finally out in the world, still sounding amazed that people had embraced it the way they had. every compliment he'd received throughout the night seemed to surprise him all over again as he replayed conversations out loud, admitting more than once that he hadn't expected so much love.
every few minutes, his attention would drift back to you. he'd smile softly before offering another compliment; your eyes were so pretty, your face was perfect, and you were the best person he knew.
he thanked you again for agreeing to be his date that night, telling you he couldn't have imagined sharing such an important evening with anyone else.
you accepted every compliment with a smile, quietly thanking him each time, while stubbornly reminding yourself they only existed because alcohol had loosened his tongue. if he were sober, you were sure he wouldn't be saying half these things.
by the time the driver pulled up outside your apartment building, jaafar was leaning so heavily against you that you had to wrap an arm around his waist to help steady him. together, you managed to get him upstairs and inside, guiding him toward your bedroom.
the second he reached the bed, he practically collapsed onto the mattress with a long, satisfied sigh, every ounce of tension finally melting out of him as the familiar comfort of your room settled around him, you couldn't help but shake your head.
"god, j, you're heavy," you tease. jaafar's eyes slowly flutter open, and he lazily lifts a finger to point at you.
"don't do that, mama," he says, his words slurring together just enough to make you laugh again.
you shake your head affectionately, knowing he's far too drunk to bother trying to change on his own. as much as he insisted he was "not even that drunk," there was no chance he was sleeping comfortably in his tailored premiere suit. thankfully, being the great best friend you were also meant routinely stealing his clothes whenever he left them at your apartment, so you had more than enough options for him to sleep in.
you start to stand from the edge of the bed, but before you can take more than a step, warm fingers wrap loosely around your wrist. "where are you going?" he asks, his voice carrying the unmistakable hint of a whine.
"do you want to sleep in your suit?" you ask with a laugh. he slowly shakes his head. "okay, then i have to get you some clothes," you say.
"my clothes that you always steal?" he says as his eyes drift closed again, and another laugh slips past your lips. "they look better on you anyway," he mumbles.
your breath catches. for just a second, your heart forgets how to beat before you quietly force yourself to breathe again, repeating the same thought that had carried you through the entire evening.
he's just drunk, that's all this is.
carefully slipping your wrist from his relaxed grip, you walk over to your dresser and pull open the drawer that, somehow, held almost as many of jaafar's clothes as it did your own. you grab one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants before making your way back to the bed.
"okay, j... you're gonna have to help me out here, can you undress yourself?" you ask. his eyes slowly open again, finding yours almost immediately.
your heart softens at the sleepy, unfocused look he gives you. there was something so disarmingly gentle about him like this, all the walls he'd carefully kept around himself throughout the evening completely gone.
"can you help with the buttons, please?" he pouts and you laugh as you sit beside him.
"of course," you say.
you help him sit upright before reaching for the buttons on his dress shirt while he lazily shrugs out of his suit jacket. your fingers work carefully down the front of the shirt, freeing each button one by one.
jaafar barely notices the jacket slipping onto the bed beside him because he's too busy watching your hands.
his gaze stays fixed on the way your fingers move, gentle and patient as they undo each button, and his mind drifts somewhere it probably shouldn't. he'd imagined you this close more times than he cared to admit, dreamed about your hands on him in moments that looked nothing like this, moments far more intimate than helping him out of formal clothes after too much to drink.
instead, this was you taking care of him, again.
"you're such an angel," jaafar mumbles as you help slide the button-up from his shoulders before guiding the t-shirt over his head. "always taking care of me," he says.
"you're drunk, i couldn't leave you to fend for yourself," you tease with a smile.
he immediately shakes his head. "no, no... even when i'm not... not drunk, you always take care of me... always brought me lunch on set... dinner if it was a late night... even before the movie... always lookin' out for me... i wish you'd let me take care of you too," jaafar says before another yawn overtakes him.
the room falls quiet as his words settle over you far more heavily than you expected them to.
you'd never thought twice about the things you did for him. showing up on set with food when you knew he'd forgotten to eat, dropping by after long rehearsal days, making sure he had someone waiting for him whenever life became too much... none of it had ever felt like a sacrifice. you hadn't done those things because you were trying to prove you were a good friend, you'd done them because you loved him.
you just never imagined he'd noticed, and somehow, it wasn't even that realization that lingered the most, it was the last thing he'd said.
i wish you'd let me take care of you too.
"because that's what best friends do, j, and you do take care of me, all the time... now, can you take your pants off?" you ask and jaafar's lips pull into the slightest smirk.
"if you wanted to get into my pants, you just have to ask," he teases and you laugh, immediately rolling your eyes.
"boy, shut up and strip so you can put these sweatpants on," you say.
jaafar's laugh fills the room, bright and completely unguarded, the kind of laugh that only ever came out around people he trusted. still smiling to himself, he unzips his pants and pushes them down his legs without another complaint. you help him step into the sweatpants before pulling them up for him, making sure he's comfortable.
the second he's changed, he curls farther into your bed with another contented sigh, the familiar mattress seeming to melt every remaining ounce of tension out of him.
you can't help smiling.
almost absentmindedly, your fingers drift into his curls, gently combing through them. the touch is soft, affectionate, something you've done countless times over the years whenever he was exhausted enough to let you fuss over him. tonight, though, he unconsciously leans into your hand, chasing the warmth of your fingertips as though it were the safest place in the world. the movement is so instinctive it makes your chest ache.
"thank you, mama," jaafar mumbles and your smile only grows.
"i just need to change and then i'm getting you water," you say. jaafar gives a sleepy nod, his eyes drifting closed once more as you quietly stand.
walking over to your dresser, you pull out a pair of soft cotton shorts before reaching for one of jaafar's oversized t-shirts that had somehow become a permanent resident in your drawer. you quickly change out of your dress, draping it neatly across the chair in the corner of your room before padding down the hallway toward the kitchen.
you grab your prescription ibuprofen, knowing tomorrow morning would not be kind to him, then fill a glass with cold water before heading back.
the sound of your footsteps draws jaafar's attention almost immediately, and his eyes slowly open. the moment they land on you, a sleepy smile spreads across his face. his shirt hung loosely over your frame, covering your shorts, leaving only the view of your bare legs, and he couldn't seem to look away.
even after you sat back down beside him, he was still staring.
"what?" you ask.
"i told you... you look better than i do in my clothes," he says. you roll your eyes, refusing to let yourself read into another one of his drunken compliments.
"here, take one of these and then try to go to sleep," you say as you hand him an ibuprofen and the glass of water.
"why is the pill so big?" jaafar asks and you laugh.
"it's prescription ibuprofen so it's stronger than the over-the-counter stuff, which is why you only need one," you say. jaafar nods obediently before taking the medicine. once he's finished drinking, you take the glass from his hand and set it carefully on the nightstand beside the bed.
"now get some sleep, j, you earned it," you say.
he nods again. "thanks for coming with me tonight, i love you," jaafar says.
those words don't catch you off guard. he'd said them a thousand times over the years, always as naturally as breathing. they had never carried any expectation behind them, only the quiet certainty that the two of you loved each other as best friends.
you smile warmly before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead. "i love you too, jaafar," you say.
instead of settling back into the pillows, jaafar slowly shakes his head. with visible effort, he pushes himself upright until the two of you are sitting at eye level. his gaze stays fixed on yours, hazy from the alcohol yet carrying an unfamiliar kind of determination beneath it.
"no... no i mean, i... i think i'm in love with you... i think i always have been," he slightly slurs.
your breath catches so sharply it almost hurts, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. your mind goes completely blank, refusing to process what he just said because it doesn't make sense. it can't make sense.
jaafar... in love with you? no, that couldn't be right.
you've been best friends for nearly ten years. ten years of late-night phone calls, movie nights, inside jokes that no one else understood, holidays spent together, borrowed clothes that somehow never made it back to him, and countless moments that had always felt safe because you'd convinced yourself they were nothing more than friendship. you'd spent years carefully burying your own feelings because you believed he could never possibly return them, and when he started dating maddie, you'd accepted that as proof you were right.
your heart immediately wanted to believe every word he'd just said, but your head refused to let it. he was drunk. incredibly drunk. people said things they didn't mean when they'd had too much to drink. they got emotional, affectionate, sentimental. that was all this was. it had to be.
you slowly shake your head, offering him a small, patient smile that does little to hide the way your heart is pounding against your ribs.
"go to sleep, j... you're drunk," you say. jaafar's expression immediately falls.
"you don't believe me," he says. the disappointment in his voice tugs at your heart, but you force yourself to push past it. if you let yourself believe him, even for a second, you weren't sure you'd be able to recover if he woke up tomorrow with no memory of any of this.
"i don't think you believe you... go to sleep," you say, taking another slow breath as you try to steady yourself. the initial shock had begun to settle, but it hadn't made his confession any easier to process. if anything, the words seemed to echo louder the more you tried to convince yourself they didn't matter.
"only if you lay with me," he says. another wave of warmth spreads through your chest.
there was nothing unusual about the request. the two of you had fallen asleep beside each other countless times over the years after late-night movies or conversations that lasted until sunrise. there had never been anything romantic about it, at least, that's what you'd always told yourself.
"okay," you say.
jaafar immediately scoots across to the other side of the bed, making room for you where he'd been lying only moments before. as soon as you settle into the mattress, you're greeted by the lingering warmth he'd left behind, and before you've even gotten comfortable, his arms find their familiar place around you.
he gently pulls you back against his chest.
his face nestles into the crook of your neck with a quiet sigh, and one of his hands slips beneath the hem of your oversized shirt before coming to rest lightly against your stomach. his palm is warm against your bare skin, and despite how many times the two of you had fallen asleep tangled together like this, the simple touch suddenly feels different.
everything feels different, because now all you can hear are the words he'd spoken only minutes earlier. i think i'm in love with you, and i think i always have been.
your eyes remain fixed on the dark room in front of you while your thoughts race in circles. every instinct begged you to believe him, to turn around and tell him you'd loved him for years too, but reason continued pulling you back. he wasn't thinking clearly. he'd had too much to drink. tomorrow morning he'd probably wake up embarrassed, with no memory of anything he'd confessed, and you'd rather carry the weight of your own feelings forever than risk losing the friendship the two of you had spent nearly a decade building.
"i love you," jaafar says again. his voice is barely above a whisper as the words brush against the sensitive skin of your neck. a few seconds later, his breathing begins to deepen, the steady rhythm telling you he'd already drifted off to sleep.
you lie awake for what feels like hours, staring into the darkness while his arms remain securely around you. his confession replays over and over in your mind until you can't remember the last thing either of you said before it. every time you start to let yourself imagine that maybe he'd meant it, you immediately pull yourself back.
he was drunk, that was all, wasn't it? eventually, another thought settles into your mind. would he even remember saying any of it in the morning?
the answer begins to reveal itself the moment the sun comes up.
jaafar isn't surprised when he wakes curled around you.
it isn't the first time the two of you had fallen asleep like this, and if he were being honest, it had become one of his favorite things over the years. waking up with you tucked safely against him always made your apartment feel a little more like home.
what does surprise him is the lack of agony pounding behind his eyes. the headache is there, he can feel it, but instead of the unbearable hangover he was expecting, it's little more than a dull ache lingering at the edges of his temples.
his gaze drifts toward your nightstand, landing on the prescription bottle labeled 600 mg of ibuprofen, and he understands immediately. you'd taken care of him again.
a quiet smile tugs at his lips as he silently offers a prayer of thanks, grateful not only for the medication but for you.
his memories of the night before are frustratingly scattered. he remembers walking the red carpet, sitting through the premiere, feeling an overwhelming mixture of nerves and pride as the credits rolled. he remembers pieces of the after-party, conversations blending together beneath music and laughter, but everything after that dissolves into hazy fragments.
somehow he'd ended up at your apartment, though that part didn't surprise him in the slightest. whenever life became overwhelming, whether it was because of exhaustion, celebration, or heartbreak, he always seemed to find his way back to you.
you start to wake up when you feel jaafar stirring behind you. the subtle shift beneath his arm draws his attention, and as he loosens his hold, you turn over until you're facing him.
"hey, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?" you ask. his smile returns almost instantly.
"not as much on my deathbed as i expected to be... thank you," he says. you smile back, relieved to see him looking more like himself than the man who you’d helped stumble through your front door only a few hours earlier.
your mind can't stop circling back to the night before. you want to ask him about what he said.
more than anything, you want to know if he remembers saying it at all.
but before you can bring yourself to ask, you realize there's something you need to know first. you need to know how much of last night he actually remembers.
"so... how much of last night do you remember?" you ask, and the familiar shy smile immediately returns to jaafar's face, the kind that always seemed to appear whenever he thought back on a good memory.
"i remember the premiere and the after party... but i don't remember how we got back to your apartment," jaafar says.
your heart sinks before relief quietly settles over it just as quickly.
if he couldn't remember getting back to your apartment, then he couldn't possibly remember everything that happened after. he didn't remember you helping him change, falling asleep wrapped around you, or the confession that had completely turned your world upside down.
that realization both comforted you and broke your heart at the same time. a part of you had desperately hoped he'd wake up remembering every word so you could ask him if he'd truly meant it, but another part was grateful you didn't have to watch him deal with the embarrassment of confessing feelings he probably never intended to reveal.
"you had a quite a bit to drink... which you deserved to... you worked hard on this movie, you deserve to celebrate and be celebrated," you say. jaafar smiles, the praise making his shoulders relax.
"thank you for taking care of me," he says. you nod before leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek.
"always," you say. as he reaches over to grab his jacket, his eyes catch on something sitting on your nightstand; his phone plugged into your charger.
he pauses for a moment, quietly taking it in. you'd gotten him home safely, changed his clothes, made sure he drank water, gave him medicine before bed, and even thought to charge his phone so it wouldn't die overnight.
they were all such little things, the kinds of things most people probably wouldn't even think twice about, but with you, those little things had always meant the most. you had this quiet way of caring for him without ever expecting recognition for it, and every time you did something like that, it reminded him why you had become the safest place in his life.
"can you hand me my phone, mama?" he asks. you nod, leaning over to unplug it before placing it in his hand. he scrolls through the flood of notifications waiting for him, letting out a quiet sigh as reality slowly returned. "i have some press to do today, but i'll call you later?" he asks.
"of course... have a good day, j," you say. he smiles as he gathers his suit from around your room before leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, then he leaves.
true to his word, he calls you later that evening after his press obligations are finished. you watch your phone ring until it eventually stops, instead of answering, you send him a short text telling him you were busy and that you'd call him back later.
you never do.
over the next several days, you begin pulling away in ways you hope aren't obvious, but to someone who knows you as well as jaafar does, they stand out immediately. your phone calls go unanswered, your replies become shorter and less frequent, and eventually you turn your location off because you know that if he can't get ahold of you, his next step will be showing up at your apartment unannounced and you couldn't let that happen.
every time you thought about seeing him, all you could hear was his voice from that night. i think i'm in love with you.
those words refused to leave you alone, and no matter how many times you reminded yourself he'd been drunk, your heart stubbornly clung to them. being around him now felt impossible because you no longer knew where the line between friendship and everything you'd secretly wanted for years actually existed.
while you were trying to convince yourself that distancing yourself was the right thing to do, jaafar was slowly unraveling.
at first, he'd accepted every excuse you gave him. everyone got busy, work got hectic, and schedules stopped lining up sometimes.
but then days passed, then a week, and with every text he sent became a little more concerned than the last. is everything okay? did i do something? are you mad at me? please just tell me what's wrong.
when those messages went mostly unanswered, panic started settling in. desperate to figure out what had happened, he even asked jermajesty to call you, thinking maybe you were only avoiding him.
you didn't answer his call either, because you knew jaafar too well. you knew he'd eventually ask one of his brothers to try to reach you, so you stopped answering anyone.
life continued moving around you as though nothing had changed. you went to work every day, kept up with your routine, and answered just enough of jaafar's messages to reassure him you were alive, but never enough to actually have a conversation. every notification from him made your chest ache because he genuinely had no idea why you were disappearing from his life.
by the time you got home from work that afternoon, your phone was filled with missed calls, unread texts, and voicemails from him.
your heart twisted, this wasn't fair anymore. whatever happened that night wasn't his fault, and avoiding him for something he couldn't even remember only made you feel worse.
with a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and opened his contact, finally deciding you were going to call him back.
before you could press the button, a knock echoed through your apartment and your head snapped toward the front door. slowly, you crossed the room until you reached it, peering through the peephole, your breath caught.
it was jaafar.
he looked up the moment he heard the lock click, and as soon as you opened the door, he stepped inside and immediately pulled you into his arms so tightly that you barely had time to react. as you wrapped your arms around him, you felt the rigid tension he'd been carrying for days finally begin to melt away, and when a quiet sniffle escaped him, your heart broke.
he'd been crying.
"j..." you say softly, but he only shakes his head as he pulls you closer.
it's been weeks since he'd seen you, weeks since he'd heard your voice outside of the occasional short text, and weeks of wondering if you'd been hurt, if something had happened, or if he'd somehow done something terrible without even realizing it. standing here with you finally in his arms, he isn't ready to let go just yet.
when he eventually does, you quietly close the door behind him and gesture toward the couch, silently inviting him to sit down, but he doesn't move. he stays rooted where he is, his eyes never leaving yours, as though he's afraid that if he gives you even an inch of space, you'll disappear again.
"why have you been so distant from me? what did i do wrong? i can't fix it if you won't tell me what i did," he says. the desperation in his voice makes your heart ache.
you immediately shake your head. "you didn't do anything wrong," you say.
his expression only grows more conflicted. the hurt never leaves his face, but now it's joined by genuine confusion. if he hadn't done anything, then none of this made sense.
"what's going on?" he asks.
you let out a slow breath, your eyes dropping to the floor as you search for words you'd been avoiding for weeks. eventually, you look back up at him, finding him watching you with the same patience he'd always given you, even now.
"the night of the premiere... something happened and i... i guess i didn't know how to handle it, or didn't want to be embarrassed and i didn't want you to be embarrassed either, so i... i don't know, i pulled away instead," you say.
the crease between jaafar's brows deepens. he searches his memory, trying to piece together whatever happened after the parts of the night he could still remember, but everything beyond the after-party remained frustratingly blank.
"what happened the night of the premiere?" jaafar asks.
you take another deep breath. "after i helped you change... you thanked me for going to the premiere with you and said you love me," you say.
for just a second, jaafar has to fight back a laugh. was that really what all of this had been about?
"i always tell you i love you... you know that," jaafar says and you sigh.
"i know... but when i said it back, you said that you think you're in love with me, and that you always have been, and when i told you to fuck off and go to sleep," that time he does laugh. "you got upset that i didn't believe you, and i would've talked to you about it the next morning, but you didn't remember anything, so i didn't want to embarrass you or be embarrassed myself if i brought it up and you said you didn't mean it," you say, finally letting out everything you'd been carrying by yourself.
"oh," jaafar says quietly. the single word barely leaves his lips before the realization crashes over him.
his eyes widen. for years, he'd imagined what it might feel like to finally tell you the truth. after things ended with maddie, he'd come closer than ever to confessing, convincing himself that if there was ever going to be a right time, that had been it. but every time he worked up the courage, fear won instead. the thought of losing his best friend had always outweighed the hope that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.
so he'd kept loving you in silence, yet somehow, without meaning to, he'd told you everything while he was drunk. except instead of bringing the two of you closer, you'd spent weeks pulling away because you'd convinced yourself none of it had been real.
he didn't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of it all or cry over how much unnecessary pain the two of you had put yourselves through.
"i'm sorry... i know i shouldn't have avoided you like that, i just didn't know what to do," you say. before you can say anything else, jaafar closes the small distance separating you.
his hand gently comes up to cradle your cheek, his touch so careful it makes your heart skip. his thumb slowly brushes along your jaw as he looks at you with an expression of tenderness you've never seen directed at anyone else.
"i did mean it... i may not remember, but if i told you that i'm in love with you, it's because i am," he says.
the words settle over you, quiet and unwavering, spoken without alcohol to soften them or courage borrowed from champagne. this was jaafar, standing in front of you completely sober, looking into your eyes as he chose to tell you the truth all over again.
still, your heart struggled to believe it after spending years convincing yourself he could never love you that way, hearing him say it now almost felt too impossible to trust.
you slowly shake your head. "you don't have to do that, j," you whisper.
jaafar's expression softens even more as he gently shakes his head, refusing to let you hide behind the same fear that had kept both of you apart for so long.
"listen to me, mama..." he says, and you slowly nod, waiting for him to continue.
"i love you, i'm in love with you. you're the one constant in my life... this movie has consumed me for the last three years and even my own girlfriend didn't stick around, but you did, you've always been there, and she was just a placeholder for you anyway... i only started dating her because i didn't think you'd ever feel for me what i feel for you," jaafar says.
your eyes widen as every assumption you've spent years clinging to begins unraveling in front of you.
this whole time, you'd believed him dating maddie had been confirmation that you would never be anything more to him than his best friend. every time you'd seen them together, every time he'd mentioned her, you'd quietly convinced yourself that whatever feelings you carried for him would always have to remain yours alone.
but somehow, you'd both been living the exact same fear.
jaafar slowly lowers his hand from your cheek before gently taking yours instead. without breaking eye contact, he places your palm against the center of his chest, right over his heart, and keeps it there beneath his own hand.
"do you feel that? the way my heart beats for you? i'm so in love with you it scares me sometimes, not because of you, but because what if we give this a try and it doesn't work? not only do i lose the love of my life, but i lose my best friend too... so i pushed my feelings aside because having you in my life as my best friend is more bearable than losing you completely," jaafar confesses. beneath your hand, his heartbeat is steady, strong, and impossibly real.
by the time he finishes speaking, tears are already streaming freely down your cheeks. every wall you'd spent years building around your heart crumbles beneath the weight of his words, leaving nothing but the love you'd worked so hard to hide.
"you won't lose me, j... never," you whisper through your tears.
jaafar's expression softens even further as he leans in, pressing gentle kisses just beneath your eyes, catching your tears with his lips before they can fall any farther.
"i love you, too... it's always been you," you say as you look back at him.
the moment the words leave your mouth, the smile that spreads across his face is unlike anything you've ever seen.
he laughs quietly, almost as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. he'd spent so many years imagining what it would feel like to hear you say those words, wondering if that moment would ever come, and now that it finally had, it almost didn't feel real. hearing you tell him you loved him, not as a friend but in the same all-consuming way he'd loved you for years, filled him with a happiness so overwhelming it left him almost breathless.
he doesn't waste another second, jaafar closes the remaining distance between you, gently bringing your lips to his. the kiss is everything you'd imagined it would be and somehow still so much more.
his lips are impossibly soft against yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart race before he kisses you again with a tenderness that speaks louder than any confession ever could. every year of longing, every moment he'd spent convincing himself he could never have this, pours into the way he holds you.
when you feel his tongue gently brush against your lips, silently asking for permission, you part them for him without hesitation. a quiet moan escapes you as he deepens the kiss, and your fingers instinctively tighten around the fabric of his shirt while his hands settle more firmly against your waist, holding you as though he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.
he'd imagined kissing you more times than he could count; late at night, during long drives, every time you'd smiled at him, and every time you'd fallen asleep beside him. none of those fantasies had ever come close to what it actually felt like.
when he finally pulls away, the two of you are left breathing the same unsteady breath, your foreheads naturally coming together as neither of you is willing to put more than an inch of space between you.
"don't ever do that to me again, please," he says softly. the vulnerability in his voice makes your chest tighten. he isn't talking about the confession; he's talking about losing you, and about believing, even for a few weeks, that you'd chosen to walk out of his life.
you nod immediately, another shaky breath leaving you. "i won't... i'm so sorry," you say.
jaafar gently shakes his head before pressing another kiss to your temple, then your cheek, your jaw, and finally your forehead, each one slower than the last, as though he were making up for every kiss he'd spent years never allowing himself to give you.
"i love you, jaafar," you say.
the words earn that wide, radiant smile all over again, and he closes his eyes for just a moment, letting himself savor the sound of them in your voice.
can i req reader losing her v card to jermajesty but like they have a talk first and he’s being very understanding and stuff and like softish smut and aftercare
Summary: You're losing your V card to Jermajesty and slow and gentle and you guys before it happens.
Jermajesty shut the bedroom door, cutting off the low hum of the house. He turned to you, noticing the way you were nervously wrapping your fingers together. Instead of moving closer right away, he leaned against the doorframe, keeping his posture relaxed."Hey," he said softly, his voice a low, soothing anchor. "Come here, mama. You’re overthinking. I can hear your mind racing from here."He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, patting the space right next to him.
He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, patting the space right next to him. When you sat down, he took your hand rubbing his thumb over your knuckles in slow, grounding circles."We don't have to do anything tonight," he murmured, looking directly into your eyes. "I mean that, baby. If you just want to lie down and watch a movie, that's exactly what we'll do. I want you to be completely sure, and completely comfortable."
You took a breath, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I want to, Jermajesty. I really do. I'm just… I'm really nervous. It's my first time."Jermajesty listened without interrupting, a small smile touching his lips. He leaned in, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead."Thank you for telling me, beautiful," he whispered against your skin. "It changes nothing about how much I want you, it changes everything about how we take our time. We go at your pace. You tell me to stop, we stop. You tell me to slow down, we slow down. You are completely in control here, okay?"
Okay," you breathed, the weight in your chest lifting. "Don't stop, just go slow with me." He nodded and his expression softened. "I got you mama."
Jermajesty guided you back onto the pillows, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
Every time he removed a piece of clothing, his hands lingered on your skin."God, you are so beautiful baby," he growled low in his throat, his eyes scanning your bare skin.
"Look at you, all mine you like when I touch you here, mama?" You nodded desperately. "Yes," you whined softly, arching into his warm hand as it brushed your hip making you wetter and desperate. "Please, Jermajesty. It feels so good."His touch remained gentle, his fingers tracing light patterns over your skin that made your breath hitch.
"Look at how much you trust me," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours with a soft, steady intensity. He started to take your shorts and panties off at the same time. "Mhm ma you're so wet just for me?" You nodded and embarrassed how wet you were for him just touching you soft
"Jermajesty, please," you murmured, your heart swelling at the warmth in his voice. He looked up. "Please what baby? Use your words." You whined.
"Please jer I-I need to feel you" Jermajesty bit his lip the way you were being so desperate. He took his sweatpants off following with his boxers. He was above you again and had a smug loving look.
"I want you to feel every bit of how much I care about you. We’re taking our time, baby. You nodded as you bit your lip. He entered you slowly, not moving yet. You both moaned at the feeling.
"Mhm baby you feel so good around me" Jermajesty said groaning. You moaned at the fullness and wanted him to move. "J-jer please move" He kissed your neck and started moving at a slow rhythmical pace making you whimper.
"That's it pretty" he said moaning himself the way your pussy was warm and wet. "You feel good ma talk to me" You moaned. "Y-yes Jer I'm feeling s-so good." Jermajesty reached for one of your hands and interlocked with yours going a little faster and hitting your g-spot.
You gasp and arch your back. Jermajesty smirked. "I hit your spot sweet girl mhm?" You couldn't even answer the pace he was going and the way he kept pounding your g spot.
"Look at you being so good taking my dick that's my baby take it, feel good" he said groaning. "Shittttt jer you're fucking me so good" you said moaning uncontrollably and slurring your words.
"Yeah? I'm fucking you good mhm? I'm happy you asked me to be your first mama. I'll make you feel good anytime you want" he said, rambling the way your pussy was tightening at his words.
"J-jer" that's all you could say the way he was going, good thing he understood that you were about to cum. "Look at my good girl can't even say you need to cum, cum for me baby cum all over your dick mama" He said getting sloppy at his thrusts.
The way he was talking took you to the edge and cummed on his dick hard, while he was still pounding but going slower than he was about to cum to. He groaned, "shhitt mama i-im about to cum you want it inside mhm?" You nodded and that was key to cum inside of you.
He slowed down. Both of you catching you guys' breath. You pull Jermajesty down to kiss him deeply and he hums a little hum when you feel his tongue in your mouth. You pulled away smiling.
"How are you feeling, my girl?" he asked quietly, his voice vibrating against your shoulder. "You okay? Talk to me.""I'm wonderful," you whispered.
He still had a smile and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up. You two were in the bath tub with bubbles and your back was Jermajesty's chest.
"You were so patient with me. Thank you for being gentle."Jermajesty kissed the top of your head his "Always, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you for being so open with me. I'll always be gentle if you ask me too. He said pulling you closer and you feeling the warmth of the bath and him.
Summary: You go on a cruise with your two best friends, unexpectedly running into a very charming Jermajesty Jackson, along with his brothers Randy Jr and Jaafar.
Content - Jermajesty Jackson x fem!reader
Warnings - none really this is just a build up for part 2
w/c: 762
A/N - bare with me bro I haven’t written a fic in a WHILE let alone publish one so…BARE WITH ME💔also i decided to make this into parts maybe 3 parts or 2 we'll see where the wind takes me
Day 1:
You and your friends are getting settled in your cabin, unpacking your belongings and putting your outfits aside for the upcoming two weeks of fun you have planned.
You’ve just finished a stressful semester at your University and you all decided to chip in on this cruise as your summer begins. Little did you know you’d meet the most annoyingly beautiful man you’ll ever know. But how much can happen in two weeks?
“Okay guys let’s get it cracking. I have a few activities I want us to get to today.” You say to your girls, Anya and Sabrina
You guys put on your day one fits, you put on an emerald white maxi fitted dress that hugs your curves in all the right ways, and has a slit down your right leg.
You all make your way upstairs to the bar. Music is booming and the sun is setting, casting a beautiful warm glow against your skin and golden jewelry.
"Alright I'm gonna grab a drink guys" you say, loud enough for them to hear me over the music. You walk over to the bar and order a strawberry daiquiri, and before you can even take a sip BOOM someone bumps into you, making you knock over your drink on the bar.
“Bro come on-” you don’t even finish talking, taken aback by the absolute face card standing in front of you, with a sincerely apologetic smile.
“I am so sorry, I lost my balance for a second there” he looks at the drink spilled all over the table. Thankfully none of it got on your dress.
“I’ll pay for your drink, anything you want I’ll get for you. I’m Jermajesty”
You come back to your senses.
“Oh- I’m uh y/n..its totally fine you don't have to do that” you say with a shy grin
“I insist.”
He smiles. You smile back, biting your inner lip. You nod and reorder your drink, watching as Jermajesty reaches around you to pay the bartender. You notice his arms, very nice, veiny hands too…FOCUS!
“Thank you, Jermajesty. All is DEFINITELY forgiven” you say playfully.
“My pleasure, gorgeous. See you around.” he winks at you and disappears into the crowd, and you reunite with your friends at your table.
“Who was THAT?” your friends ask, the question coming out as a playful teasing tune.
“Guys… he said his name is Jermajesty.”
“Jermajesty? Interesting name…” Anya says, holding back laughter
“Stop, his name is cute…he was cute actually and he smelled really good.” you say, a blush creeping up your face
“Ouuu someone's got a crushhhh” Sabrina sings out, poking your arm. You swat her hand away and roll your eyes fighting back a smile.
For the rest of the evening you guys talk and laugh and eventually after getting a lil tipsy, you end up on the dancefloor. “Come Get Her” by Rae Sremmurd starts playing.
“OOUUU THIS IS MY SONG!”
you move deeper into the crowd, feeling the music build. You start dancing and moving your hips and ass to the beat while your girls and people in the crowd hype you up. Suddenly you feel some hands sneak onto your hips, and you look to see a smirking Jermajesty. The liquor in your system makes you bold, you start dancing and grinding with him, your friends hyping you up louder. You turn to face him, your arms going around his neck as you keep dancing together getting hype. The smile on his face is incredibly telling, but you're too tipsy to notice.
An hour and many songs later, the crowd is slowly dying down as the party starts to wrap up and people head back to their cabins. You're ready to leave and get some sleep, and so are the girls
“Youre a great dancer and excellent company, but it's time for us to get some sleep” You say, dapping him up. His hand lingers in yours for a second longer than necessary, and eyes rake over you taking you in. he stands up and pulls you in for a polite side hug
“Yeah I should head back too. Hope I see you again though.” he smiles.
“You will.” you smile back and nod before walking away with your friends.
Now you guys are back in your shared cabin, showered, slowly sobering up and talking until they all drift off to sleep. The last thing on your mind as you doze off? That handsome man you danced with all night, and hope to see again before the cruise ends.
lmk if you're interested in a part 2 (it will likely include some smut) and lmk if you wanna tagged in that😜
thinking about writing a fic where you’re on a cruise with your family and run into jermajesty (and his two brothers) and there’s some tension (ofc). yall keep running into the each other and slowly get to know each other, getting comfortableeee…idk man im brainstorming and open to suggestions
also i REFUSE to contribute to the “toxic” jermajesty fics bro💔
summary: you are the recipient of this year's Album Of The Year BET Award, and your fiancé is your presenter
content: ugh it's full of tooth-rotting fluff so cute, all the good emotions, lil bit of crying BUT MDNI, smut, love-making, worship, praise, celebratory sex, unprotected sex (wrap it 'fore you tap it im so serious), alludes to upcoming marriage, pet names (mama, baby), sweet aftercare
w/c: 2.5k
a/n: ugh i loved writing this, def one of my favorites
masterlist
"Baby, c'mon we gotta go!"
Jaafar's voice echoes through the hallway, and you try your absolute hardest not to have a mental breakdown. You curse under your breath, stuffing any necessity you can into your tiny designer purse. Just in case.
A travel pack of tissues, just in case you cry so hard you ruin the makeup you sat for 2 hours for.
Lip gloss, just in case your lips get dry from said tears.
A tampon, just in case your period magically comes on, even though it doesn't start for another 2 weeks.
Your mind is scrambled, and you now have a reminder that there is no more time for overthinking.
The hallway outside your dressing room is a chaotic blend of glitter and sequins; you've seen celebrities you've only dreamed of seeing. Even Jaafar's aunt made a point to be here tonight. Wait — are you sweating?
He appears in the doorway, looking so devastatingly handsome in his navy suit. A soft, understanding smile plays on his lips as he sees you digging frantically in your purse, still pacing in a desperate effort to calm your nerves. You wonder if it's too late to ask for a drink, hard liquor especially. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. The noise from the hallway instantly muffles.
"Hey. Baby, breathe." He comes up behind you, his hands settling gently on your bare shoulders. "You're gonna be amazing. You know that, right?"
You sigh, now reminded of the fact that you're also performing tonight, assuming that he thinks that's what you're worried about. His touch is steadying. You can feel the warmth of his large palms on your skin. He turns you slowly to face him. His eyes, those beautiful eyes, scan your face with pure adoration. "I mean, shit, look at you. You're a vision."
"I feel like a mess, J.. What if I make a fool out of myself?"
"No, no. Don't start that now. You did just fine on the red carpet. You've gone to plenty of events like these." He pushes a loose bobby pin in your updo, trailing his hand back down gently to caress your cheek. He's careful enough to avoid smudging your makeup.
"You got six nominations for your first album. And you're bound to win at least one. And you also got a tour on the way. You're a star. No need to stress."
A single, traitorous tear escapes your eye, and he's quick to catch it with the pad of his finger. "You're gonna be okay."
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
The auditorium is a sea of shimmering gowns and extravagant outfits, the air electric with anticipation. You're seated near the front with Jaafar, the bright stage lights a stark contrast to the dressing rooms.
Your leg bounces uncontrollably in front of you as you try to focus on your comedic host. And his hand finds your knee, easing your anxiety with a silent and calming pressure.
He gives your knee a final, reassuring squeeze before rising from his seat and making his way backstage.
Time seems to warp, a blur of performances and category announcements. You try your hardest to stay engaged, laughing at your host as he interacts with the different celebrities in the audience. Then the screen lights up with the nominees for the Album Of The Year. Your album cover is right there. Projected for millions to see.
Jaafar is accompanied by Nia Long, walking hand in hand in connection with their shared film. He adjusts the microphone, a proud, easy smile on his face. "Thank you to everyone for the love you've shown for our movie, Michael. The Jackson family is ever so grateful for your support."
Jokes are exchanged between them, and the anticipation is deafening as she holds the golden envelope, opening it and angling it towards Jaafar. His eyes scan your name as she announces it into the microphone, and he becomes the first to applaud. Their faces are filled with overwhelming pride, and the camera swings to you. The entire venue erupts with applause.
The sound is a roaring wave of applause and cheers, so immense it drowns out the frantic pounding of your own heart, and you're frozen in shock for a moment before, oh, so desperately trying to stand up. Your legs felt like jelly, but somehow they carried you to join them on the stage.
As you reach the steps, Jaafar is there, his hand extended to guide you up. His touch is solid, an anchor in your dizzying euphoria. He walks you to the center, pulling you into a quick, tight embrace as he pecks your cheek. Nia hands you the heavy, golden award, and you pull her into a warm hug. The cool metal is a shocking contrast against the heat of your skin, and they both step back, allowing you to take the microphone.
You stare at the sea of faces; the lights are blinding against your eyes, shining with unshed tears. Your voice becomes shaky as you begin to speak.
"Um. Wow. Where do I even begin? First, I have to thank God, because... Gosh, never in my life did I think this would've been possible." A nervous laugh escapes you, and the audience responds with warm, encouraging applause.
"Thank you to my incredible team, my label, everyone who believed in this project when it was just a dream of mine." Your eyes scan the crowd, finally landing on the man standing just behind you. "And," you glance back at Jaafar, "my fiancé. You were the first person to hear me, to see me. You never let me doubt myself, not even for a second."
He gives you a small, proud nod from the sidelines, his smile unwavering. Your voice grew stronger, and you looked back at the audience. "This album was about love and finding your voice. And you let me find mine. So, thank you. Thank you so much."
The applause swells again as you hold the award aloft, a beacon of your achievement. The noise, the love — it all converges into one of the best nights of your life.
Along with the night when you won two Grammys in February. But who's counting?
The rest of the ceremony was a beautiful, overwhelming blur. You changed into your costume for your performance. Hands reach out to congratulate you for winning two awards in one night, cameras flash, and every time you look over, Jaafar is already looking back, his expression one of pure, unadulterated joy.
The after-party was also a whirlwind of champagne, congratulations, and even more flashing lights. You were surprised that you had not yet seen spots in your vision. But even through it all, Jaafar's hand never leaves yours.
He whispers in your ear, "You tired? Ready to go home?"
"Yeah, a little bit. Unless you're not ready yet,"
His face contorts in contemplation, his head moving side to side as if he's humorously weighing his options. "Yeah, I'm beat. Let's go home and celebrate. Just the two of us."
The drive home was quiet. The city lights of Los Angeles streaking past the windows, painting patterns on your soft profile.
He leads you through the quiet, dim house, your feet discarded from your painful heels, only to be filled with his shoes. He refused to let you walk around barefoot, at the cost of walking out of the venue and into your house in his socks.
The only illumination comes from the full moon steaming through the large windows, casting the living room in silvery blue. He takes off his cuff links and suit jacket with a relieved sigh, treading over to meet you in the center of the living room. The BET awards are still clutched in your hand as you turn to find a shelf to put them on.
He takes the heavy statues from you and sets them gently on a nearby console table. The gold glints in the moonlight. His hands come up to cradle your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "My award-winning woman."
He kisses you then, and you can't help but giggle bashfully, smiling into the kiss as it tastes of pride and love. He pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. "I wanna show you how proud I am."
His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the steady, strong beat of his heart through his button-up. Your breath becomes unsteady, arching against him slightly as he lifts your leg around his waist. His hand presses against the small of your back, keeping you steady.
His voice is a low murmur against your ear. "Let me take care of you."
Hands moved to the back of your gown, his fingers finding the hidden zipper with practiced ease. The sound of it sliding down was loud in the quiet room as he slowly pulled the expensive fabric from your chest, letting it pool at your feet.
You shiver. "Could've done that when it wasn't so cold in the house."
"Shut up." He kissed your collarbone as his warm hands traced over your skin. He lifted you into his arms as if you weighed nothing, carrying you towards the bedroom. He laid you gently on the silk sheets, the moonlight catching the tears of happiness still glistening in your eyes.
He towered over you at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his own shirt with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, you're beautiful. My baby was so pretty tonight, y'know that?"
"You think so?"
"Absolutely, are you kidding?" He laughed, kneeling over you before tracing his fingers on the line of your collarbone. His touch was feather-light on your skin; it almost tickled you. He lowered himself, his body a warm, solid weight as he kissed you again. It was deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth once you gave him access. It was a slow, worshiping passion that only he had the capability of raining on you. He took so much pride in watching you tonight, every beaming smile you gave to the audience — to him. He really couldn't ask for a better woman to spend the rest of his life with.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. His hands roamed your body, sure and praising. He knew every single one of your curves by heart, every spot that made your breath hitch.
His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling your nipple before drawing it in his mouth. You let out a small whimper at the feeling of his tongue, the sensation leaving as soon as it came.
He moved down your body, his open-mouthed kisses a hot trail over your stomach. He hooked his hands under your knees, gently spreading your legs. He looked up at you with dark eyes, full of desire, and you couldn't help but be shy under his gaze.
"Nuh uh, what'd I say about being shy? You're gorgeous, mama."
He peppered kisses onto your inner thighs before licking a long stripe on your pussy, a sharp, pleasurable cry was torn from your throat. His tongue grew relentless, expert, reducing you to a pleading mess within minutes, and he refused to let up. His fingers were digging into your thighs to hold you open as they shook, warning him of your first orgasm.
It came crashing over you once he hummed against your clit, the feeling violent and shuddering as your hips bucked instinctively against him. The low groan of satisfaction vibrates through you. But his mouth refused to leave you, his tongue continuing to lap at your oversensitive flesh even as you squirmed against him.
"Fuck — J, stop — I already—"
"Shh, I know. I got you. Just one more, baby."
The sensation is almost too much; a sharp mix of pleasure and overwhelming sensitivity makes you grab onto his hair, gripping and tugging gently, begging for him to ease up. He eventually gentles his tongue, switching to soft, soothing kisses as he pushes his middle finger inside of you. "That's it, mama. Just let go for me again. You can do that, can't you?"
You nod weakly as his fingers stroke you with a light pressure that builds your orgasm all over again, slower this time. You whine at the sensitivity, the pleasure slowly replacing it as you slowly feel your orgasm creep again. The feeling is hot in your stomach. He murmurs sweet nothings against your clit, the vibrations of his voice shooting through you as it coaxes your second orgasm.
Your climax was a rolling wave of pleasure that left you breathless, completely spent against the cool sheets. Jaafar finally moves up to join you again on the mattress, kissing a path back to your lips. "There you go, good girl. Now you're nice and ready for me."
"Jaafar, fuck, please. Could I just get a minute to catch my breath?"
He positions his tip at your entrance, pressing soft kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, laughing softly. "When have you ever known me to give you a break, hm?"
His dick is hot and insistent as he pushes inside you; the stretch is dizzying. A low gasp escapes the two of you, and his hips begin a slow, deliberate rhythm, each move hitting every soft spot that makes you see stars. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans.
He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ears as his ragged breaths fill your senses, accompanied by loving praises.
I'm so proud of you, baby.
You're doing so good. So damn good.
I can't get enough of you.
You're so beautiful. I love you.
I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
Your acrylic nails drag across his back, your legs wrapping around his waist. The feeling of love grew so intense between you two that you could feel your eyes well up in tears all over again.
"Aw, baby, don't cry."
"m'sorry, just love you so much."
His thrusts deepen, becoming more urgent, his forehead pressed against yours. The headboard taps a soft, steady beat against the wall. His voice is a broken whisper, strained with emotion as you feel his body tense. "Fuck — I love you too. So fucking much."
Both of your orgasms crash over you with a final deep thrust; his release is shuddering as he trembles against you, small whimpers filling your ears. He collapses against you for a few seconds, his full weight a comforting blanket against your chest. He then reaches for a soft throw blanket from the foot of the bed, draping it over both of you. The room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing slowly returning to normal.
His thumb traces lazy patterns on your waist, and he kisses your temple, his lips lingering there. He shifts down to look at you, his expression soft as he meets your gaze, sweeping your features to find any kind of discomfort. "You were perfect. Absolutely perfect tonight."
He kisses your forehead before getting up, returning with a cool, damp cloth. He gently wipes the makeup from your face.
"There you go, still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
