Genre: SMUT!!(MDNI), Established Relationship. University!AU
Warnings: AGAIN SMUT!! (MDNI), I mean pure filth. Que-Dawg!Jermajesty (Valid warning). Jermajesty pretends to be non-chalant(ends up very chalant.) Cussing. Use of the ‘n’ word. Jealous!Jerpapi. Arguing. Reader is manhandled more than once. Violence. Reader is referred to as Jermajesty’s “Bitch”, Car sex. Toe sucking. Coochie slapping (once). Oral!(Fem. Receiving). Squirting! P in V, Unprotected! Possessive sex. Slight breeding kink (?), Slight dacryphilia (?). Twin I can’t lie, this is overly freaked out..
Summary: Everyone knows that you and Jermajesty are the ‘it’ couple on campus. Everyone also knows your boyfriend is president of the most notorious frat there, Omega Psi Phi. At the biggest party of the year, during their routine stroll, Jermajesty gets a little too beside himself. Since you aren’t one to be taken for a fool, you decide to get beside someone else.
W.C: 5.4k
Author’s Note: Credit for this log idea and moodboard goes straight to @siiighrns. Y’all, I fear I went a lil ham on this one. BUT it’s really good! (I’m biased). As always, thank you for reading! Share what you think, reblog if you love it!
-Love, B. 🤍 ↪ The Archive.
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The music is already shaking the walls by the time you step inside. Heat hits first, then the smell of smoke, sweat, and liquor. Bodies press shoulder to shoulder, and people dance wherever they can find space; others cling to the walls like a lifeline. Someone’s yelling over the music about body shots, a sorority girl is laughing too loudly, and in the darker corners of the house, couples are already latching onto each other, swapping a little more than spit. Homecoming always does this: turns the whole campus into one restless cesspool of drunk, loud, horny twenty-somethings. This party is the one everybody’s been waiting for; the football game against the opposing university had been won with a staggering victory, and now it was time to let loose. Omega Psi Phi always does it big, and this year is no exception.
You stick close to your girls as you move through the crowd, eyes adjusting, taking it all in. The energy bothers you. Everything feels too loud, maybe even reckless. The mess around you isn’t your problem; Jermajesty is. The way he’d been acting all day had pissed you off. Short answers, stuck off in his phone, hellbent on like you were his biggest inconvenience.
You tried to talk to him more than once, wanting to know what crawled so far up his ass and died that he’d call you ‘bruh’ for most of the day. Still, he gave you nothing but annoyed sighs and kissed teeth. Fed up, you decided to go to the party on your own. Since your boyfriend wanted to act like you were such a bother, he didn’t have to worry about you.
Now you’re here, scoping out the scene, almost sure he’s cooled off by now. It doesn’t take long to find him, and when you do, your stomach drops. ‘Off the Leash’ by Gucci Mane blares in the background. He’s locked in on some bitch like you don’t even exist. She’s all up on him, titties nearly spilling out of her cheap dress, laughing and feeling on his arms. He’s eating it up, rolling his head from side to side, tongue flicking out with a smile, moving like he’s a free agent. He pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere in the crowd. The chain you got him for his birthday glints in the light against the wife-beater he had on underneath. His large frame hovers over hers. The muscles in his back flex as he moves. You stare for a second too long, and his eyes catch yours, winking before pushing himself back onto the girl.
“This nigga trippin.” You mutter, more to yourself than anybody else. Anger settles in your chest while you watch him, eyes stinging as you take in the scene before you. The longer you stare, the clearer it gets. He’s comfortable embarrassing you. He’s acting like you don’t even exist, like he doesn’t know the only reason you came was him.
Your jaw clenches so hard your teeth hurt, but you force your expression to stay neutral. You’re not about to be that girl, pressed, kicking and screaming in the middle of a party just because your man ain’t shit. The two girls you came with scoff, rubbing your back apologetically. Imani, your closest friend since freshman year, speaks first. “Leave that nigga where he is, baby. He’s clearly busy.” Your other friend, Niyah, pipes up next. “Yeah, girl, forget his ass! It’s plenty of niggas here that would kiss yours. Let’s go find em’ and get fucked up like we came to!”
Niyah was right about that, you looked the fuck good. Eyes had been on you since you walked into the cramped space. Your braids are freshly done, the face card never declines, and the outfit draping your frame didn’t help either, leaving very little to the imagination. Nothing extravagant, just a plum colored mini-dress that hugged you tight, coupled with a strappy pair of open-toed heels. Still, nobody does it like you. As you think about all the ways you can get even, the girl fawning over your boyfriend takes his hand and leads him deeper into the sea of people.
You make up your mind fast, and with a single nod to your friends, you let them guide you in the opposite direction, toward something that feels more in your control. As you move through the horde of undergrads, your mind focuses on the way your boyfriend practically disowned you in front of everybody, and it becomes crystal clear that liquor is going to be your best friend tonight.
Shot after shot passes through your glossed lips, slowly but surely numbing the irritation that has settled over your spirit. The hurt is still there, but it’s starting to blur at the edges. As the liquid courage flows through your veins, you get the bright idea to scale the kitchen counter and dance a little bit, hoping to distract yourself from him. Yells of encouragement from onlookers spur you on, and just as you get ready to bend over, your eyes find him again. He’s behind a different girl now, his hands roaming her body, softer than when it’s yours, whispering something in her ear with a smirk. The enthusiasm drains out of you as quickly as it came. Suddenly, the counter is too high to stand. on. You swallow the lump in your throat.
Before the pain can linger, rival frat Kappa Alpha Psi arrives. The sound of glass breaking rattles from the speakers as Soulja Boy’s ‘Prettyboy Swag,’ begins, changing from Omega's theme to Kappas. The crowd parts just enough, and eyes start drifting toward them. They stroll through, slow and steady. Instead of stepping back and ignoring it as is expected of you, you move fast. You place yourself right where you’ll be seen, with less than pure intentions. It doesn’t take their president long to lock onto you. Ah, Rakheem Jones. Tall, dark, and impossibly charming. An academic beast with a smile that could stop any girl’s heart, someone you’d explicitly been told to stay away from. Oh yeah, you’d hit the fucking jackpot.
He moves through the room like he owns the air around him, stopping the stroll in front of you with an exaggerated swagger. His eyes drag slowly from your face, down your body, and back up again, taking his time on purpose. All you see in front of you is quiet certainty, the kind that tells you exactly what he wants. He isn’t Jermajesty, not by a long shot, but you can’t deny that he’s pretty damn close. Close enough for you right now.
A smile breaks on his face as his frat brothers bounce in step. He spreads his arms out, palms facing up in an open invitation, and you let your body answer for you. Though you are no doubt very drunk, every movement is intentional. Jermajesty’s reaction is now an afterthought. If he could have his fun, why couldn’t you? Your lips curl into something slow and dangerous, the bottom one caught between your teeth as you step forward and spin around. You bend at the waist, hands sliding down your legs and stopping at your ankles, nasty and slow; a move typically reserved for the man making a mockery of you across the room.
As your hips rock from side to side, the dress hugging your frame rides up, showing off your lace panties; it’s retaliation disguised as a proposition, but Rakheem doesn’t need to know that. It’s effortless, the way your ass moves in this dress. It should be a crime. Shouts of approval ring throughout the room. Rakheem steps in, palming your rear like he’s been given permission. He presses into you, testing the waters, and when you don’t pull away, he makes another move. Next thing you know, his hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and you’re in the air.
High above the crowd, sitting on his shoulders, you feel the room erupt because everybody knows what that means. He’s claimed you for the night. Cheers break out all over.
“Ain’t that Maj’s girl?”
“Oh shit–it is!”
One of the other Nupes yells out, “Aye! She with the Nupes now!”
The words spread fast, cutting through the music and the noise. All eyes are trained on the two of you, and you can’t help but bask in it. Someone passes you a cup, and you raise it toward the sky. You toss the drink back, and with a shout, you unknowingly seal your fate for the night. “She with the Nupes now!” Across the room, Jermajesty hears it before he understands it. Ain’t no way he just heard…what he thinks he heard. He tries to ignore the commotion.
Tries to. He’s caught up in his own game of pretending he doesn’t care, but that nonchalant shit flies out the window when he takes a quick glance around the room. Everything stops. There you are. Elevated above everybody else, laughing, moving like you don’t have a care in the world…on another man’s shoulders, practically humping his head. The sight is like a slap in the face, and the shock turns to fury.
And it’s not just any man, you’re too petty for that. It was Kappa Alpha Psi’s fucking president. Jermajesty’s teeth grind together, and his hands ball into fists. The girl in front of him grabs his face gently, trying to bring his attention back to her. “Focus on me, baby. She don’t mean nothing.” When he registers her acrylics grazing his jaw, he nearly growls in disgust, no longer interested in her advances. With an open palm and five fingers, he mushes her back, “Fuck off me.” She stumbles and looks at him like he just lost his mind. She just might be right about that. Jermajesty doesn’t waste any more time and pushes through the crowd, fuming.
By the time he gets close, you’re fully gone, rolling your body, completely unbothered. Then your eyes meet his, and you laugh. Not small or nervous, no, one big boisterous cackle that displays just how little you care. Again, while looking him dead in the eye, you chant, “She with the motherfuckin’ Nupes now!” Your smile stretches ear to fucking ear. Rakheem follows your lead, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Real slow like, the rival Greek plants his hands firmly on your waist and lifts you over his head, guiding your body down until your feet hit the floor. Rakheem then presses a deep arch into your spine, positioning you exactly how he wants you, eyes locked on Jermajesty the entire time. He only has time to roll his hips once. That’s it, the disrespect is too loud for him to ignore.
Jermajesty snaps, shoving you aside roughly, fist already in motion. It connects clean with Rakheem’s jaw, the crack sharp enough to cut through the music. Just like that, everything explodes. Omegas step in immediately, forming up behind their president without hesitation. Kappas surge forward just as fast, not about to let theirs get dropped without response.
The party morphs into shouting, pushing, and different hues of purple and red colliding with each other. Phones come out, and flashlights illuminate the brawl; the partygoers are having a ball with this, no doubt staring lives and reporting in on Snapchat. The frat's reputation could very well be on the line, but Jermajesty could give a fuck less. All he cares about is bodying the nigga dumb enough to touch his bitch. He’s got Rakheem by the back of his shirt. “Fucked up!” he yells, fist connecting again. “You. Got. Me. Fucked. Up.” Each word lands with another hit. Rakheem tries to defend himself, but he’s outmatched. Jermajesty is bigger, stronger, and fueled by nothing but alcohol and jealousy. The poor Kappa’s licks are as soft as cotton balls.
Your boyfriend doesn’t stop until Rakheem’s limp, no longer able to fight back, and far too weak to hold himself up. He leans in, making sure the Kappa’s president looks him in the eye. Voice low and dangerous, he speaks, “Try that shit again. Watch what I do.” He drops Rakheem and stands to his full height, chest rising fast, and finally looks around. His brothers are still fighting, having dealt out the same kind of damage to the rest of Kheem’s posse. Jermajesty can’t let this get any worse, or he’ll have a meeting with the dean come Monday. He inhales once, then lets out a loud bark. His fraternity falls back, bellowing out their own barks in response to his call. Across from them, the Kappas hesitate, but ultimately decide they’ve taken a big enough loss tonight. They pull away, dragging Rakheem with them, and just like that, it's over. The music creeps back up, loud chatter resumes, and bodies start to move again, like nothing even happened.
When the dust settles completely, and Jermajesty is sure no one else is going to try him, he turns to face you, “Say your little goodbyes, and take your ass to the car.” His voice holds a finality that you really can’t argue with. You stand there for a moment, testing whether or not defiance would fare well for you. When he blows through his nose, you understand the answer is no. Doing as he says, you find Mani and Niyah and offer them quick hugs. “Ooh! Somebody in trouble!” Niyah starts, “Mhmm, little Ms. ‘She with the nupes now!’ Nah, more like she done did it now!” Mani finishes. You roll your eyes. They’re right, you’re in deep shit, but you won’t admit it.
“Shut up. That nigga had it comin’.” They giggle and kiss your cheek goodbye, wishing you luck. As you make your way toward the door, you feel eyes on you again. Some of Jermajesty’s frat brothers cast betrayed glances in your direction. “Fuck are y’all looking at?” They shake their heads and wave you off, “Nothing, Nupe.” You sigh, completely over tonight. The walk to the car is long and uncomfortable as you reflect on how everything unfolded. The thought that you might’ve done too much crosses your mind. Did Jermajesty really deserve that kind of betrayal? Flashes of him caressing someone else with so much care and tenderness replay. Yes the fuck he did.
The sleek, black BMW, which had been given to Jermajesty as a graduation gift, comes into view. It was fully loaded: all-black interior, leather seats, moonroof, and custom headrests with his and your initials. Arms folded, you lean against the door, anxiety washing over your bones. What if he breaks up with you over this? The move you made was bold and not something to be taken lightly in the Greek world. You still love him, but god does he piss you off. While you ponder, his voice cuts through the air as he says his goodbyes. You shift on your feet as an unsettling feeling nestles deep in your gut. He stalks toward you now, aura anything but safe, letterman jacket clutched tightly in his right hand. Jermajesty’s head tilts to the side as he lifts his free hand to his face, brows furrowed, rubbing his jaw as his gaze locks on you. His gait is strong; each step he takes feels like it has the magnitude of a devastating earthquake. He’s pissed.
“The fuck was that? Huh?” Jermajesty asks, eyes hard, voice eerily calm. Your arms unfold, and you stare at him in disbelief. Did he seriously have the nerve to be calling you out right now? “I could ask you the same damn thing, Jermajesty!” He cuts his gaze to the side, trying to keep his composure. “You’ve been pissy all fuckin’ day. I tried over and over again to check up on you, make sure you were straight, and what do you do? Treat me like I’m some regular bitch, that’s what!” Your arms fly around frantically as you speak. His eyes return to yours, daring you to keep going. You accept, and double down continuing the tirade, “And THEN, when I pull up to this fuck ass party, that I didn’t even want to be at by the way, what do I find? You. Snug as a bug in a fuckin’ rug with some random. Get the fuck outta my face with that ‘Fuck was that?’ bullshit, Majesty. Seriously.”
He glances away, nodding a few times before speaking, “You done?” That’s it? That’s all he has to offer you? Having reached a boiling point, a response dripping with venom leaves your lips. “Nah, nigga. We done.” Jermajesty chuckles, unlocking the car and tossing his jacket in the backseat. “Yeah, okay.” He didn’t think you were serious. Sure, you’ve both been through this song and dance plenty of times before, but you always stay. With a huff, you throw your arms up and spin on your heels, starting in the other direction, hoping it’s not too late to catch a ride with Mani. “How the fuck you gon get home, y/n?” He asks, amusement lacing his tone. You growl and turn back around, “I don’t know Jermajesty! Maybe the Kappas will take me in.”
His eyes darken, and in two quick steps, he’s in front of you. “Get your ass…in the fuckin’ car.” You roll your eyes and push his chest, creating some distance. “Fuck. No.” You snarl, “This ain't even the first time you’ve pulled some shit like this. I’m fucking done, Jermaj—” Your words catch in your throat when his right hand wraps around your wrist, and he drags you into him. His other hand comes up to grip your chin as he pulls you into a searing kiss. You curse internally, feeling yourself melt as his soft, plush lips move against yours. The hand holding your wrist moves to your back, pressing you closer as he deepens the kiss. It trails down further, cupping your ass and squeezing. The action makes you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.
You both wrestle for dominance, but another firm squeeze to your behind leaves Jermajesty as the victor. When you part, his lips are covered in a thin film of gloss, matching yours. “Ma,” He whispers soft and low, “If you think you leavin’ me…you out yo fuckin’ mind. I’m not gon’ tell your little ass again, get in the car.” This time, dazed, you listen. Slipping into the passenger side and clicking your seatbelt in place. Jermajesty follows suit, starting the engine and peeling out with a quickness. As he drives, you notice the way his large hands grip the wheel, knuckles white as he seethes.
After some time, he pulls into an empty parking lot, throws the beemer in park, and gets out. The back door on the driver’s side swings open, and he slips in. Your boyfriend leans back and spreads his legs wide. You look over your shoulder to find his eyes locked on you. “Strip.” He says, low and dark. Unsure of whether or not he’s serious, you freeze. He lifts a brow, wondering what’s taking you so long. Message received. You shimmy out of your dress in the seat and work on your heels next. Once finished, you move to climb over the center console. “Uh-uh, all of it.” You pause, glancing down at your body, still clad in your bra, and the same panties you were so keen on showing off earlier. Peeking back up at your boyfriend, you see his arms are now resting behind his head as he waits with practiced restraint.
Sitting back, gradually, you peel the last layer of clothing and dignity off your body. Jermajesty revels in your beauty, eyes raking up and down your form twice, before patting his thigh. Now, given permission, you slip into the back of the car and onto his lap. Jermajesty's head is tipped up, and his hands, rough and calloused, hold your waist softly, as if he’ll break you if he isn’t careful. He lets a deep breath out through his nose and looks into your eyes, “You know I love you, right, mama?” Though it didn’t feel like just moments ago, you still nod, big doe eyes peering back at him. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”
He then reaches for something near him. You hear it rustle before it comes into view. The letterman. He holds it up and only says three words: “Put it on.” Hesitantly, you slide your arms into the sleeves and shrug it the rest of the way on. “Gorgeous.” Jermajesty slides you off his lap gently and pushes you toward the other end of the car, “Lie back.” You ease down, and your legs part in the process. He takes in the sight of your dripping heat and lets out an appreciative groan. Your legs stretch past his face, and your toes touch the glass next to him. In the soft moonlight illuminating the car, your boyfriend notices something dancing on your ankle. Delicate gold lace, adorned with a pendant shaped like a 'J', rests there.
The visual nearly undoes Jermajesty. He takes your leg in his right hand and bends your knee. His fingers curl around your toes as he places soft kisses along your foot. His left hand trails up to caress the rest of your leg. Eventually, the hand holding your toes slides down to your heel. Jermajesty's kisses grow more urgent, less controlled. He moves feverishly, and before you can process what is happening, your big toe is in his mouth. He swirls his tongue, and a deep moan reverberates in your ears. You didn’t expect it to feel as good as it did, and the action earned a soft moan. Maybe it was the sensuality, but your body shakes with need. The slick between your thighs becomes unbearable. While your boyfriend continues his ministrations, you reach down. Your clit is aching, and the soft circles you begin to rub are barely enough to satisfy you.
When a whimper escapes your chest, and before you can pick up the pace, a sharp slap to your hand stops you. Jermajesty pulls off of your toe with a pop. “I didn’t say you could touch my shit, ma.” He then leans over and spreads you wider, wrapping his hands around your thighs and lifting your back off the seat. You look at him in surprise, and Jermajesty holds your gaze, blowing cool air over your clit. Frustrated, you whine out, “Maj, please—” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I can’t admire what's mine, mama?”
You let out a huff and try to sink back down. Big, veiny arms keep you steady, though. Jermajesty tuts at your bratty behavior, “Fuckin’ spoiled.” As you go to make another complaint, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard. “Oh, fuck— Maj!” He eats like a man starved, slurping like you’ll run dry if he stops. The sounds of your sins echo in the confined space. His tongue trails down to your ass and back up. He pushes the wet muscle deep into your pussy, earning a high wail from you. He stays there for a moment, savoring your taste, before moving back up toward the bundle of nerves hidden in your folds. Stars form behind your eyelids when two fingers dip in, making up for the empty feeling.
It’s all too much, too fast. You feel yourself careening toward the edge as he pumps them into you. He quickens his pace, knowing your body like the back of his hand. The digits buried inside of you press into that spongy spot over and over again. “Give it to me.” He murmurs into your heat. As if your body were waiting for his command, euphoria crashes into you. You tense as your eyes roll back, and his name slips off your tongue as you ride out your high. Jermajesty doesn’t stop, drinking your juices like he’s found the fountain of youth.
Overstimulation racks through your body, and you push him off your center. He leans back, breaths labored, chin glistening with your essence. You’re breathing just as hard, unsure if you’ll be able to withstand what else he has in store for you. “Baby—” He shushes you while pulling the wife-beater over his head. His jeans come off next, then his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. The outline of his arousal leaves your mouth watering. No matter how many times you fuck him, you never get used to it. “Turn around f’me. Arch my shit the way I like it.” Itching for more, you do as he says, sinking into a sinful arch. Your pussy is on full display, and that beautiful, round ass has him thanking whichever god sent you down to him.
Your ears pick up on his movement, sure that he’s slipped out of the last layer between the two of you. You feel his heavy cock against your inner thigh, pre-cum smearing against it. The feeling leaves you clenching around nothing. Jermajesty leans down, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, “When I’m done with you…you gon remember you ain’t fuckin’ with no little ass puppy.” With that, he lines himself up with your heat. The tip nudges against your entrance, teasing you to the point of tears. In one long, slow thrust, Jermajesty bottoms out and has you split wide around his length.
Your mouth opens, and a loud moan tears from your chest. It burns so fucking good, he’s filled you to the brim. Your boyfriend waits for you to adjust, and when you nod, his strokes begin slowly, dragging along your sopping walls with deliberate patience. His cock is covered in your slick, and it takes everything in him to hold steady. He wants you to beg. “You forgot who I am, ma?” He asks, while still digging you out. Already too cockdrunk to speak, you shake your head with a muffled “Mm-mm.” Not satisfied with your answer, Jermajesty switches gears, picking up the pace. He feeds you harder, faster strokes, hips slamming into your ass roughly, “Nah. Tell me, baby.” He breathes out, “You forgot?”
Your breath hitches, and you throw your head back, drool sliding down the corners of your mouth. “Noo— Neverrr,” you drag out, surprised by the sudden change in tempo. Jermajesty catches the underside of your chin in his right hand, pulling you up as he props up his left leg near your side for better leverage. Again, he speeds up, driving mean strokes into your already abused pussy. A series of grunts leaves his lips before he lets you drop back down against the seat. The same foot he has propped up comes to rest on the side of your face as he reaches new depths in your core.
“Which frat you with— Shit!” The new angle leaves both of you weak. You search for the right words, but his fat mushroom tip bullying into your g-spot has you stupid. “I don’t know, Maj!— Fuck, I can’t—” He presses more of his weight into you, a ‘Thwack!’ rings through the air, and you struggle to catch your breath. “You don’t know? Sure you do, baby girl.” The strokes are heavy and slow now, grazing over your pleasure center again, and again. “I don’t, I swear.” Jermajesty laughs then, rich and smooth. “You really don’t? Guess I gotta stop then huh?” He says, still stroking deliciously slow. Panic washes over your blissed out face, “NO!— I just… Maj, give me a hint!”
His shoulders bounce as he realizes he has you right where he wants you. Too fucked out and stupid to think about anything but his dick, “What jacket you got on, baby?” Hell, if you know, all you're worried about is the heat pooling in your belly. “Majesty. Please, baby— I don’t know!” He grips you by the waist and pulls you off of him. A cry rips from your body, and tears form in your eyes. Jermajesty flips you onto your back, “It’s okay, pretty girl, don’t cry.” He utters mockingly, "I'm gon’ give you what you want.” he finishes, leaning down to lick away your tears.
In one swift move, Jermajesty pulls back and enters you again. A chortled gasp reaches his ears, and he smirks. He holds himself there for a moment and then decides that he wants to wreck you completely. He folds you in half, your knees almost touch your ears, and the tips of your toes touch the window behind you. The filthy mating press leaves your faces just inches apart. Jermajesty breathes out slowly to ground himself, “Omega. Psi. Phi.” He whispers, voice sweet like honey. Your face contorts in ecstasy as he punctuates each Greek letter with heavy, relentless blows to your pussy.
“Those are the only words I wanna hear.” He leaves no room for you to process and begins pounding into you like he’s got a personal vendetta against your cervix. “Ughh! Maj!— Fuck- Slow down!” Your boyfriend ignores your plea, driving into you harder. “Who. You. With? Hm?” Your brain is sent into overdrive, and instead of answering, your hand comes up to push against his stomach, hoping to slow down the brutal assault on your pussy. “Move it,” He grunts out, head dropping to watch where the two of you are joined together. His hand shifts up to squeeze your right tit, moving yours out of the way in the process.
The sensation makes your body twitch. Everything feels like jelly, and it’s hard to keep your eyes open; with them half-lidded, the only thing you’re able to see properly is the gold chain that dangles over you, thumping against his chest with every stroke. He presses delicate kisses across your chest before moving up to that sensitive spot on your neck. He sucks harshly, and a deep purple mark forms there. “I’m not askin’ again, you better tell me before I stop.” He says, nipping at your neck as his girth bullies into your g-spot, “Omega— Fuck! Psi Phi!” You yelp. Not yet satisfied, your boyfriend leans up, steadying most of his weight with one hand on the back of your thigh. “Louder.” He growls out, cracking his other hand down on your dripping snatch. Repeating the name is a feat you’re only able to accomplish by the grace of god. It still isn’t enough for Jermajesty.
“Again.” He orders, thumbing at your abused clit. Tight, fast circles send pleasure shooting up through your spine. “Omega!” He nods along in encouragement, “Mhm,” he groans, “Give it to me, baby”, eyes still focused on the way your warm, wet hole swallows his length. His hips hammer into yours at an impossible speed, sweat beading on his forehead. “Psi— Ooh Shit!” He moves to nuzzle his face in your neck, now struggling to hold himself together. His hand leaves your clit, and presses down just above your mound, adding to the whirlwind of stimulation. “Come on y/n— Fuck! Almost there. Give it to me!” With a piercing scream, the final letter tumbles from your throat. You feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. “There it is. Shit, that’s so fucking good.” His praise adds to the familiar warmth settling into your core. You feel it coming hard and fast, “Maj, wait! The seats—” His heavy body drags against yours, “Fuck the seats. Gimme my shit.”
It only takes a few more seconds of him pistoning into you before you fall apart. Your vision goes white, and your toes curl, and your jaw drops with a silent cry. Violent streams of pleasure spurt around your boyfriend’s dick and across his abdomen. Jermajesty is right behind you, grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise. “Fuck! Gonna cum.” His stills as his balls tighten, and a loud groan rips from his chest. Thick globs of his spunk coat your insides. He stays put until he’s sure you’ve taken all of it.
You both breathe heavily as you come down from your highs. Your boyfriend slides out of you gently and moves to look at the mess he’s made of you. As your body twitches, completely and utterly spent, his eyes flicker to your half-lidded ones, and a smirk creeps onto his face. “A Nupe, can’t fuck you like this. Remember that.”
Size difference/size kink, slight dumbification if you squint, p!in!v, fem reader, and more. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, GO AWAY! I WILL BLOCK YOU! If any of these things are triggering for you, then please look away🩷
Fem pet names used, plus size friendly, no mentions of size, height or shape. Black women friendly, no mentions of skin tone, hair color, hair type, or hair coverings/wraps. Intended for black women🤎Sooooo, I’m currently writing Michael smut and I actually have sooooo many unfinished drafts. One is for thriller era, and the one I’m currently writing is otw/thriller era. Their both half done but I keep getting other ideas while writing them, this came to me while I was writing one so to hopeful my focus better on those, I’m gonna post this😭it’s very sloppy and short, kinda all over the place idk but I wrote it in like 20mins I think. It’s unedited, so plz forgive me for any mistakes. It’s 12am and I got work in a few hours but ya girl has ZEROOOO self control sooooo…I hope you enjoy! Replies, reposts and likes are always appreciated and constructive criticism is always welcomed.
Jude cursed under his breath. You were so tight, not the type of tight that came from being uncomfortable, but like a glove that fit a bit too perfectly. He swore he wouldn’t move until you were ready, but it was impossible. You looked so pretty, sweat beaded on his forehead as he made a helpless face riddled with pleasure. “S’too big…J-Jude…please…” He shushed you, lovingly stroking your cheek as a chill ran down his spine.
“i know…just…stay still, ‘Kay?” He comforted, you nodded and clung to him, your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed forward, his thick length splitting you open with every inch. Before he was fully buried inside of you, he pulled back, thrusting in and out of you in an effort to work you open and allow your body to adjust to his side. A quiet moan left his lips as you whimpered, stuck between the pleasure and the stinging stretch. “I…I’m sorry, love…m’sorry…fuck.” But as he spouts his apologies, his pace increases and he begins fucking you faster, deeper until the head is hitting your cervix. Sending jolts of mind numbing pleasure throughout your nervous system. “J-Jude…Jude…” You pant, calling his name as he began to go faster “I know…I-I know…”
Jermajesty was completely aware he might’ve been a little bit too big, nothing outrageous, but just enough that he might have to restrain himself. He tried his best to go slow, prep you with his fingers and get you to finish as many times as possible so you could be fully relaxed. But still, you whined, whimpering as you pressed a hand against his pelvis and told him it was too big.
He really didn’t want to hurt you, but he tried his best and he felt so impatient, his hips didn’t still. He kept going forward until he was buried deep inside of you, almost to the hilt—the only thing stopping him was your cervix, he pressed against it unapologetically but caressed your face and peppered it in kisses. “Mhm’sorry baby…d-daddy’s sorry…I know…it’s too—too big…” He nodded, loving the way your thighs quivered and your walls clenched around him. You felt like heaven. His dick throbbed inside of you and his jaw clenched as he fought himself not to fuck into you until your brain was too fuzzy from pleasure to recall the pain. “I’ll go slow…p-promise.” And he does, he goes as slow as possible. Long and deep slow strokes that make your whines of complaints turn into quiet muttering of praises. “that better baby? Hm?”
Jaafar swears you can take it, guiding you onto his lap so you can do the honors yourself. He wants you to have full control over how much you take, seeing as you’re already reasonably nervous about the size even after all the prepping hes done. The stretch makes you shut your eyes tightly and your legs shake. He coos and kisses you, trying to provide you comfort as you take him. “You’re doin’ such a good job, love.” He praises, “you’re taking me so well.” Even as you struggle, he does his best to talk you through it until you’re fully planted on top of him. Your hips hover just a bit, saving you from taking literally every inch. He takes notice to that but says nothing.
“Ja—Jaafar…” You hide your face in the crock of his neck and melt against him, though the stretch is just on the edge of painful pleasure, you move anyway. “Y-You’re so big…” While you’re careful to avoid taking all of him, Jaafar is almost completely overcome with how good you feel and without thinking, pulls you down onto him and begins thrusting into you. “Ja-Jaafar!” You cry out, “t-too b…oh my…” You press your hand against his chest and raise your hips but he continues to pull you down, trembling as he mutters apologies that sound almost genuine. “So—Sorry…S…Sorry…” yet, he only slows down, continuing to slam you down onto him until he’s touching a deep wall inside of you. “I…I’m sorry.” But the grin on his face says the opposite, so did the look of pure ecstasy on your face as your body relaxed into his. He could see the switch happen in real time, the way your head tipped back and your hips moved to meet his. “There you go love…takin’ me so good…”
Michael is actually surprised when you tell him he’s too big. The way your eyes water as your legs tremble against his shoulders makes him feel insane with lust. “m-Michael…it’s too big…” Something in him goes feral. He kisses the salty tears away and grinds himself deeper into you, his eyes fluttering at the way you whimper. He immediately feels guilty for enjoying it, but he can’t help it. Your voice is the perfect mixture of raw and sensual, and your walls bat around him so wildly as they split open for him and him only.
“I…I’m sorry…” His grinding turns into deep and slow strokes, the head of his thick length hitting your soft cervix with every thrust. He doesn’t know what feels better, how wet you are or how your heat hugs him with a soft embrace. “So sorry…” He mumbled while going just a little faster. “does it…mhm…does it hurt too much?” Only when you shook your head did he go faster. Hitting a spot deep inside of you over and over again until your mind numbed and the pain was fading away into the background. He pushed your legs a bit further back, fucking you faster while he watched your face twist in pleasure. “that’s right mama…takin’ all…all of me…so good.”
Jackie knows he’s absolutely massive. He would never force himself inside of you or fuck you before knowing you’re fully ready, but what can he do when you’re rushing him? He wasn’t going to until he knew for sure youd be able to take him, but with you bent over, looking back at him with your face smushed and your love leaking down your pussy, he couldn’t help but bury himself inside of you. While one hand spread you open just a bit more, the other guided his thick length inside of you. You both winced at the feeling, but unlike him, your body tensed and your back curled upward. “J-Jackie…” You whimpered out, “wa-wait…” You gripped the sheets and tried to catch your breath.
“Now you want me to wait…” He teased you but waited, leaning down to kiss between your shoulder blades. “You were just beggin’ for me, now you can’t take it, can you?” You shook your head, eyes fluttering as the arch in your back returned and a moan left your lips. He waited until he could feel your body relax a bit, but clearly not long enough. The moment he began moving again you whined, but he kept going, slow and deep until he was fully seethed inside of you. “Ja-Jackie…S’too much…” He shushed you and kissed your shoulder before leaning up straight and pulled you back into him. “I got you baby, daddy’s got you mama…you can take it.” You cried out and dropped against the sheets as he began drilling into you, almost ignoring the way you swore you couldn’t take it. “You can take it for me baby…c’mon…take it for me.”
18+ Explicit rough sex, possessive talk, very detailed smut
A/N - ik I said yall were gonna get this like two days ago but I’m a liar so….
It’s late as fuck
Your sleeping in your man’s bed, his hoodie swallowing you up, one leg sticking out laying your head on what was supposed to be jermajestys chest.
Then you feel a big, hand sliding up the back of your thigh, gripping your ass cheek, fingers starting to pull down your panties.
“Jermajesty…?” you mumble, half asleep.
“Shh, go back to sleep, ma,” he whispers low against your neck, voice all deep and raspy. “This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”
You shift a little. “wtf are you talking about It’s 4 in the morning.”
“So? ‘Cause you tired I’m supposed to starve?” He says starting to pull your panties down your legs.
He had you on your back, legs spread wide as he buried his face between your thighs. His tongue was licking you nice and slow, sucking on your clit while two thick fingers pushed deep inside you, curling just them just right.
You moaned loud, back arching off the bed, one hand gripping his hair. The pleasure was too much, too intense, you tried to close your legs, thighs trembling as you squeezed around his head.
He imhaled you completely moaning against your pussy, the vibration making you shiver. Without missing a beat, his big hand came down hard on your ass a sharp smack that echoed in the room.
“Open your fucking legs ma,” he ordered, voice rough and smug. He slapped your ass again, harder this time, the sting mixing with the pleasure as he pushed your thighs apart. “Don’t close them on me again. “ push that shit out you gonna make me have to be mean mami .”
You whimpered, legs shaking as you spread them wider for him. “ mmmpshit fuckk “
He looked up at you with that cocky, satisfied smirk, lips shiny. “That’s a good girl. Gonna let me eat this pretty ass too?”
Before you could answer, he pushed your legs back further, spreading you completely. His tongue dragged lower, licking over your tight hole, slow and teasing.
“Jermajesty—” you gasped, trying to squirm away, but he held you open, tongue circling and pushing inside you.
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“What I just tell you?” Jermajesty grunts, pulling your hips flush against his, hands squeezing your flesh tightly. “If you wake somebody up, and they see how I got you, that’s your ass.”
Whoever told you and Jer it was a good idea to be fucking at the sleepover when yall don’t even like each other was lying to ya’ll face.
“I’m not—shit—m’not trying to, damn..” you whimper with annoyance.
You hated Jermajesty full heartedly. Why? Because he always has something to say when no one asks for his input. Or, he ruins his homeboys relationships or chances by giving them the worst fucking advice they’ve ever heard. He was a total dumbass.
Now, Jer hated you for two reasons and two reasons only. One, every time he tries to get at any girl your friends with, you’re quick to cockblock, giving them a full rundown on his history about the girls he’s fumbled. And two, he wholeheartedly thinks you’re the sexiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes upon, and often makes himself mad again just thinking about how the two of you will never happen because you don’t fuck with him as a person.
Now that dick though? Mmh, that was another story. Because being sexy as fuck and an asshole can be true all at once.
And he just so happens to be both.
Hence why you’re positioned here on the side of your mutual friends bed, gripping the edge of the mattress while getting your shit beat in.
“Mmf- fuck mama,” he groans, finger tips digging into your skin as he thrust into you. “wish I could smack this ass right now..” he mumbles, licking his lips.
You whimper softly, tears pricking your eyes as his force pushes your arch impossibly deeper, constantly hitting your cervix.
It’s almost too much to bear, but with the way he’s hitting your shit? Oh, you couldn’t care less.
“D-don’t…fucking call me that.” You huff as a moan slips past your lips, your bottom lip instantly folding between your teeth, as your eyes close tightly.
He scoffs, his chest pressing heavily against your back as a smirk of disbelief forms on his face. “Call you what? Mama? You got a problem with me calling you mama, but you don’t got a problem with me beating this pussy up while our friends are asleep?”
He snickers quietly into your ear. “Okay, mami.”
You moan, this close to letting out a cry as you bite the edge of the mattress, the nickname making you clench around him. “I can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter against the cushion.
“Mhm,” Jermajesty hums, ignoring you as he watches the way your ass ripples against his lower half, entranced. “Can’t stand my guts...” he trails off.
“But I’m all in yours, huh pretty?” He taunts, tilting his head as if you can see him.
You want to look back to scold him, to tell him to shut the fuck up. But you know if you do that, you’ll most likely cum on the spot just looking at him. And he doesn’t need to experience the pleasure in that.
He rolls his hips once again, the pace intoxicatingly addictive as the air gets knocked out your lungs.
And that’s the crazy thing about it—he isn’t going too fast or too slow, he’s fucking you just right. Putting enough momentum into his thrusts to ruin the both of you.
“Fuck jer,” you gasp breathlessly, hand suddenly scrambling to grab at his forearm, grounding yourself.
“Oh fuck, yes..yes, right there maj,” your voice getting whinier as you whimper pathetically into the bedding. “M-mmmmh!”
He grins, internally patting himself on the back for being able to push you over the edge like this. Why, you ask? Well, just a few months ago, you two were talking and you told him his dick game was probably weak as hell.
Next time you’ll just shut up on the topic of Jermajesty’s meat.
“Jer, m’gonna cum—“ you whine suddenly, turning dickdrunk.
He groans, big hand flying against your mouth to muffle your cries. “Then cum mami,” he encourages, pressing kisses to your neck. “gimme that shit..” he grumbles into your ear, sending two more mean thrust into your throbbing pussy before your cumming around him with a choked out gasp.
“Ngh- fuck..” Jermajesty hisses, grabbing your ass as you coat him in white.
He bites his lips as your hole continues to suck him in, making him follow right behind you with a groan, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his thrust become sloppy.
You two stay there for a second, trying to silently catch your breath before he pulls out.
You go limp, falling back against the pillow you were originally lying on against the ground as you come to your senses.
Wow, you really just let Jermajesty Jackson fuck you at a sleepover.
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🪽- It’s almost 8 in the morning… I started writing this at midnight…🧍🏽♀️
kissmyglxck — don’t copy my work, ask to translate, & if you recreate anything pls tag me <3
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you have broken up so many times that nobody reacts anymore. every single breakup starts with one of you saying it's over forever and ends with the two of you somehow sitting next to each other at your baby's soccer game three weeks later.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty loves acting like he doesn't care until another man starts spending time with you. suddenly he's calling more, texting more, volunteering for every pickup and drop-off, and finding reasons to be at your house almost every day.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty got your name tattooed on his chest three months after your "final" breakup. he claimed it was because you're the mother of his child, but nobody believed him. not even you.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always says he's only coming over to pick up the baby. somehow that ten-minute pickup turns into him sitting at your kitchen table for two hours eating your food and arguing with you about something completely ridiculous.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty swears he's over you, yet he still knows your coffee order, your work schedule, your favorite takeout place, and which blanket you always steal when you're tired.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty still calls you “ma” even years after the breakup, but not in a co-parenting way. in a you way. it’s become such a habit that he doesn’t even notice anymore. “move over, ma,” when he squeezes onto the couch next to you. “you hungry, ma?” when he’s bringing food over. “c’mere, ma,” when he’s trying to show you something on his phone. it drives your new boyfriend insane because jermajesty says it so naturally, like it’s always belonged to him. the worst part is that whenever somebody points it out, jermajesty just shrugs and says, “what? i’ve been calling her that for years,” before continuing the conversation like he didn’t just make things ten times more awkward
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty hates your new boyfriend immediately. he doesn't care whether the guy is nice, respectful, successful, or perfect. if another man is around you and his child, jermajesty already has a problem with him.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty suddenly becomes father of the year once he finds out that you’ve moved on. he's showing up early, offering extra help, buying things for the baby without being asked, and finding any excuse possible to stay involved in your daily life.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty gets irrationally jealous whenever your baby starts getting attached to another man. the second he hears your child call somebody else funny, cool, or their favorite, he's planning the most expensive and over-the-top father-child day imaginable.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty constantly says things like "i'm only here for my kid" while sitting on your couch for the third hour in a row watching movies with you and the baby like you're still a family.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty acts completely unbothered whenever people ask if the two of you are getting back together. the second somebody asks if you're dating someone new, though, he's suddenly paying very close attention to the conversation.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty keeps every picture you've ever sent him of your child. every single one. blurry pictures, random selfies, pictures of finger paintings, pictures of naps. he has folders full of them and refuses to delete any.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always pretends he forgot something at your house. his hoodie, his charger, his keys, his watch. sometimes you're pretty sure he leaves things behind on purpose just so he has an excuse to come back.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you can go from arguing about co-parenting to laughing at baby pictures in less than five minutes. one second you're threatening to block each other, the next you're both crying laughing over something your child did.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty hates when you ignore him, even though he's usually the one who started the argument. he'll spend hours acting annoyed and then get offended when you actually stop responding.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty still has a family photo of the three of you as his lock screen. every time somebody notices, he changes the subject so fast it gives people whiplash.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty always finds himself sitting next to you at family events. nobody knows how it happens. not even him. somehow every birthday party, holiday, school event, and cookout ends with the two of you side by side.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty absolutely hates when your child talks about wanting mommy and daddy to live together again. not because it bothers him, but because hearing it out loud feels way too close to what he secretly wants.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty knows exactly which buttons to push when he's annoyed, and unfortunately you know exactly how to get under his skin too. that's why your arguments are legendary.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty acts like your biggest headache and your biggest supporter at the exact same time. nobody understands how he can annoy you more than anyone else while also being the first person you call when something goes wrong.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty secretly keeps every family photo, every drawing, every handmade card, and every random keepsake your child gives him. if the picture includes you standing next to him, it's getting stored somewhere extra safe.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🥀˚ jermajesty and you are the definition of unfinished business. no matter how many breakups happen, no matter how many times you swear you're done, neither of you has ever really figured out how to let go.
summary: jermajesty suggests making a movie and you agree without a lick of hesitation
contains: heavily 18+, mdni!, oral ( m and f receiving), pinv, freaked out jermajesty, recording
notes: i saw a clip from the 2000s of kim k absolutely serving face and i learned that clip was actually from her tape so…. enjoy !
The red record light blinked and the camera made a click
In the reflection of the large bathroom mirror, Jermajesty stood right behind you. One of his hands was wrapped steadily around the camcorder, while the other cupped around your breast, slightly bouncing it in his hand
“look at my baby…doing her makeup” he zoomed in on your face in the mirror as you did your makeup in a very short yet oversized white button down that belonged to jermajesty
“shes gonna look so pretty when i fuck her” he mumbled earning a little giggle from you
he zoomed out, angling the camcorder down just enough to capture his large bulge rubbing against your butt
the camera clicked again
now, the two of you were pressed tight against each other, cheeks touching as you both looked directly into the lens. your fingers stroked along his jawline, tracing the sharp line of his face. clashing a playful grin, you playfully stuck your tongue out at the camera, and he mimicked you,
with a sudden tilt, the frame whipped toward the wall mirror, revealing that you were now completely straddling his lap.
his hand was resting comfortably on your butt before slapping it and then gripping it “jer!”
the camera clicked again but you were now holding it
Jermajesty had his head buried deep between your thighs. a soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, your fingers burying themselves into his hair, gently tugging the strands to guide his way .
“just like that baby” you gasped, tilting the screen slightly. Jermajesty looked up from between your legs, catching the lens, and gave the camera a very confident wink.
click
you were sitting on the very edge of the mattress now, and Jermajesty stood over you
“open for me, baby," he ordered softly.
you looked up at him and slid your tongue out. he chuckled and lightly slapped the thick tip of his cock against your tongue. before you could even swallow, he cupped your jaw firmly, tilting your head back, and began to smoothly thrust into your mouth.
the camera recording went on for 10 more minutes capturing the raw and messiness all the way until he finally came on your tongue.
“good girl”
click
you were laying completely flat on your back now, holding the heavy camcorder up in the air, pointing it down at yourself.
completely ignoring the mess of the room, you focused entirely on the flip-out screen. you checked your angles, idly fluffing out your hair, and took your time reapplying a thick layer of lip gloss until your lips looked perfectly glassy in the low light.
you gave the camera a confident smile, thoroughly enjoying your own reflection.
you glanced slightly to the side, looking at Jermajesty who was currently just out of the frame, and then your eyes snapped right back to the lens.
you held the gaze of the camera, leaned in a little closer, and whispered, “I’m about to get fucked” before bursting into a quiet giggle.
click
the camera tilted wildly for a split second, the frame spinning past the ceiling fan before stabilizing as it was propped up on the side table right next to the head of the bed. the angle was low, wide, and caught everything.
you were on your hands and knees now, your back arched deeply as you looked up, checking your reflection in the flip-out screen one more time. the short white button down was bunched up around your waist, leaving you completely exposed.
Jermajesty kneeled right behind you, his hands instantly gripping your hips, his thumbs digging into your skin to anchor you in place. he didn't waste a second. He lined himself up and pushed all the way into you with one deep, heavy stroke.
a sharp gasp caught in your throat, your hands gripping the bedsheets as he started a relentless, demanding pace.
“look at you” Jermajesty growled, his voice thick and rough as he stared down at where your bodies met. “look how pretty you look taking my dick…you like looking at yourself in that screen, huh?”
“yeah" you whined, your head tossing back as he slammed into you, the friction loud in the quiet bedroom. “jer, please” you whined
“please what? tell me exactly what you want” he commanded, slapping his palm against your hip, the sound sharp and echoing through the room, he leaned his upper body down over yours, his chest pressing hard against your back as he kept driving into you from behind. “tell the camera how good it feels.”
“oh my gosh your stretching me out so good” you moaned, looking toward the lens, your eyes heavy-lidded and glassy with pleasure. “t-so big, baby... fuck.”
“that's it, talk to me” he mumbled, his lips brushing against your ear “show me that face you make when I’m deep inside you, look right at the camera for me”
you turned your head toward the screen, serving face even through the haze of pleasure, biting your bottom lip as Jermajesty sped up.
The mattress squeaked rhythmically, the audio capturing every wet, heavy slap of his thighs against yours.
“look at my fucking girl," Jermajesty praised, his grip shifting from your hips to the back of your hair, gently tugging your head back to force you to look up and back at him. “how deep is it baby, can you feel me in your stomach?”
“yes baby!” you gasped out, arching higher against him, completely intoxicated by his words and the view on the screen.
“your doing so good for the camera baby” he groaned, his pace turning frantic, completely losing his composure as he buried himself as deep as he possibly could inside you. “arch your back more for me…take it baby, don’t run”
click
you were flat on your back, your hips elevated off the mattress by a stack of pillows, with your legs draped completely over Jermajesty’s broad shoulders. ye was hovering over you, pinning your upper body down in a heavy, suffocating mating press that left absolutely no space between you.
“look at me” Jermajesty said in a possessive whisper, he then leaned down, burying his face in the crook of your neck, before driving down into you with a slow, agonizingly deep stroke that made your eyes roll back.
“Jer...” you choked out, your hands flying up to grip the wooden headboard just above you to keep from sliding away. “your too deep, oh my god!”
"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," he began to grind his hips against yours, using his entire weight to press you down into the sheets, making sure you felt every single inch of him. “look at the camera, baby. let it see how you look when I fill up your pussy”
even pinned beneath him you were completely overwhelmed, you tilted your head toward the side table. you caught the reflection in the tiny flip-out screen,
your hair fanned out across the pillows, your lips parted as you let out a series of needy, broken whines and you held the camera’s gaze
“look at those pretty eyes” Jermajesty muttered, noticing where your attention went. he pulled back just enough to slam back into you, the force of it shaking the mattress and making the camcorder's view shudder slightly. “you love the way I fuck you on camera , don't you?”
“yes!” you cried out loudly, your fingers clawing at his shoulders now, pulling him down for a messy, desperate kiss. “don't stop, please, Jer, just like that!” you whined
“i'm not stopping," he promised against your mouth, his breath coming in heavy, ragged pants. His pace turned frantic, his hips hammering down in a relentless, bruising pace that completely locked you beneath him.
“your taking every fucking drop of me.”
The tape whirred to a sudden and complete stop.
you and jermajesty looked at the small screen and then out of each other completely breathless
Jermajesty let out a low, exhausted chuckle, leaning over to press a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “we really did that," he mumbled, his voice completely shot.
“we did” you breathed out, a proud, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. You tilted the camcorderup to look at yourself one last time, serving one final, sleepy look for the lens. “and honestly? the lighting was perfect.”
Jermajesty groaned, rolling onto his back and pulling a pillow over his face. “let’s keep this to ourselves and not leak it”
i automatically assume the reader has a silk press or box braids when y'all are describing hair in these stories. LMFAOOOOOO, you will NOT rain on my parade. i'll picture michael x reader being about a black girl every single time
