⌜gi⌟

the marble beneath your bare feet is cool against your skin, a welcome break from the thick summer heat pressing against the city outside your floor to ceiling windows. it’s well past midnight. the apartment is quiet, the only light coming from the skyline beyond the glass and the glow of your phone resting on the coffee table. a text lights up the screen.

from your new boyfriend. he’s three time zones away on a business trip, but somehow still making time to check in before bed. “goodnight love you.❤️”

you take a slow sip from your wine glass, thumbs hovering as you begin to type, when an incoming phone call appears on the top of your screen.

Jaafar Jackson.

you always know how this starts and how it ends. you press the red button to decline before returning to the text message from your boyfriend.

you tap out a quick, hollow “goodnight🙂, love you too,” and hit send, letting the screen go dark a second later.

you place your phone back on the coffee table with a quiet clink, your hand staying there for a moment. your fingers trace the cool glass as your eyes remain fixed on the screen.

five seconds. ten.

the silence of your apartment feels almost mocking. you take your last sip of wine, the liquid doing nothing to soothe the unease in your stomach. you know he’s not gonna stop at one call, he never does.

the phone lights up again, cutting through the dark hue of the living room. 

Jaafar Jackson.

each ring feels heavier than the last, the sound echoing through the apartment until it’s impossible to ignore. your heart stutters, a painful jump in your chest. 

you stare at the name, you think about the gala last week. the way his eyes never left you even with his girlfriend conversing next to him. how his hand lingered on your back for just a second longer after helping you out the car.

the way his mouth unraveled you, taking his time with your body the very second the doors to your public lives were closed for the night.

your phone vibrates again for the third time. one, two, then a text.

why are you ignoring me?

the audacity of it pulls a shaky, breathless laugh from your throat. you’re the one who does everything right, the one who keeps the family image pristine. but looking at that screen, the image feels like a costume you’re desperate to peel off.

you don’t reach for the phone. Instead, you turn toward the sound of the elevator chime echoing faintly from the foyer. a private, floor access ping that shouldn’t be happening at 2:00 AM.

your breath hitches. you haven’t even moved, but you know the elevator doors are sliding open. you know he’s here. you walk toward the foyer, the floor of your penthouse apartment cold beneath your bare feet, your silk robe flowing behind you like a shadow. 

you don't have to look through the peephole to know who is standing on the other side. you reach for the handle, your knuckles turning white around it as guilt and adrenaline fight for control of your next move. you click the locks open. the door swings wide, and there he is—Jaafar, looking exactly as he did in your thoughts, his dark jacket rumpled, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Jaafar,” your eyes drag up and down his tall frame. “why are you here?” 

"You didn't answer," he says, his voice low, rough that vibrates right through you. 

He doesn't wait for an invitation–he just steps inside, closing the door behind him and locking it with a sharp, final click. "Stop pretending you don't want this."

his hands meet both sides of your face, forcing you to look at him. you remove his hands from your face. “no, no, we said we were done with this,” you whined.

your voice trembling as you stepped back, trying to put space between your body and his overwhelming presence.

Jaafar didn’t move. he stood right where he was, his hands dropping to his sides, but his dark eyes never left yours. “we did say that,” Jaafar murmured, his voice incredibly calm, yet entirely laced with a quiet type of certainty. 

he took a single step forward, easily cutting the distance you had just tried to make. “we said it last month, too. and the month before that. But here we are.”

“J, please,” you whispered, your hands pressing against his chest to stop his advance. 

through the thin material of his shirt, you could feel the frantic, heavy thud of his heartbeat, matching the uneven rhythm in your own chest. 

“my boyfriend... he just–he’s coming back in two days. and your girl, Jaafar. she’s going to start wondering where you are.” at the mention of your partners, his jaw clenched, a flash of pure possessiveness darkened his eyes. 

he didn’t back down. instead, his long fingers wrapped around your wrists, gently but firmly pulling your hands away from his chest, only to pin them flat against the cool wall behind you.

“I swear on everything I love,” he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’m not leaving you alone. ever.”

 he leaned in closer, his warmth completely erasing the chill of the marble floors beneath your bare feet. 

the scent of outside and his expensive cologne filled your senses, making your head spin. “let them wonder,” he whispered, his breath hot against your lips. “I tried to stay away.”

“fuck, I tried. But watching you sit next to him at that gala, watching him touch you like you belong to him when I know exactly how you taste... it’s driving me insane.” A soft, defeated gasp escaped you.

you wanted to keep the ‘princess’ demeanor  your family raised you to have. you wanted to do everything right, to keep the pristine name on the company clean. 

but the moment Jaafar tilted his head, his gaze dropping to the loose silk of your robe where it had parted slightly at your collarbone, your body tension completely dissolved.

“We’re terrible,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your jawline.

“I know baby,” he muttered against your skin, his hands sliding down from your wrists to grip your waist, his touch heavy and demanding. “but you don't want anyone else. say it to me.”

he pressed his body fully against yours, the contrast of his leather jacket against your soft silk robe making you shiver. he trailed a path of slow, agonizing hot kisses down the column of your neck, finding the exact spot that made your toes curl against the cold floor.

“say it,” he whispered again, his voice a commanding growl that vibrated straight through your core.

 “I don’t,” you confessed, your fingers finally tangling into his dark hair, pulling him closer as the last shred of your guilt was swallowed by the dark. 

“I don’t want anyone else.” 

Jaafar didn't waste another second. his mouth crashed onto yours, hungry, capturing your lips with a desperate intensity that told you exactly how much he had been starving for you. 

a quiet whine caught in your throat, but he swallowed it right down, his hands sliding beneath the silk of your robe to press his warm palms flat against your plump ass, lifting you effortlessly as the rest of the world completely faded away.

he lifted you so easily it made your head spin, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist to keep your balance. 

the silk of your robe bunched up around your hips, leaving nothing but the heat of his bare palms pressing into your skin. you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his chest.

Jaafar didn't move toward the bedroom immediately. he didn't have the patience for it, and neither did you. instead, he carried you the few steps back toward the wide expanse of the living room, backing you up until the edge of the large kitchen island hit the back of your thighs. 

he set you down on the cool dark colored quartz countertop, the sudden chill of the stone making you gasp against his mouth.

he pulled back just an inch, his breathing heavy, his eyes scanning your face in the dim light of the city skyline. his hands slid up from your thighs, tracing the curves of your waist before slowly parting your silk robe. 

he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, letting it pool around your elbows, exposing you completely to his gaze. 

"beautiful," he muttered, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. "so damn beautiful."

"Jaafar, the blinds," you whispered breathlessly, your eyes darting toward the massive floor to ceiling windows. 

the entire city was laid out before you, a million glowing lights, and even though you were stories above the world, the vulnerability of the open glass made your skin crawl.

"nobody can see you," he murmured, his thumbs wiping the faint smear of your lipgloss from the corner of his mouth before trailing down to your chin. "only me pretty.”

he stepped closer, fitting himself perfectly between your thighs. the heavy fabric of his jacket brushed against your bare skin. 

he reached down, unbuttoning his coat with impatient fingers and tossing it onto the floor behind him, followed quickly by his shirt, until he was just as bare as you were.

when his chest pressed against yours, the heat was immediate. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to you. the kiss this time wasn't just desperate, it was necessary. 

his tongue tangled with yours, deep and demanding, claiming you in a way your boyfriend never could. 

his hand slid down your stomach, his long fingers tracing lower, past the dip of your hip until he found the center of your heat. you whimpered into his mouth. his fingers slow and deliberate, breaking down the very last of your defense. 

he knew exactly what you liked, exactly how to make you forget your own name, your relationship, and the image you wore during the day.

"look at me," Jaafar whispered, pulling his mouth away, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

you opened your eyes, your vision slightly blurred, locking onto his dark, intense gaze. 

his hand never stopped moving, driving you closer and closer to the edge. suddenly he stops, “get on your knees.” with that he carries you off the counter and you obey his orders.

the cool marble floor met your knees, a shock to your system that did absolutely nothing to fuel the fire burning through your veins. 

your silk robe pooled around you, completely discarded as you looked up at him. Jaafar stood over you, towering in the dim, amber glow of the city skyline. his chest was heaving, abs flexed, his gaze dark and entirely consuming as he watched you look up at him from the floor. 

 "princess" of the company, the golden girl, boss to everyone around her, was completely unraveled at his feet. just for him.

"Good girl," he rasped, the low vibration of his voice sending a violent shiver straight down your spine.

his long fingers tangled into your hair, with a firm, possessive grip that tilted your head back, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his. he unbuttoned his jeans with a slow, calculation, the metallic click of his belt hitting the ground, echoing like a sin in the quiet penthouse. 

when he freed himself, your breath hitched, the reality of what you were doing crashing over you all over again. 

but there was no turning back. especially when he was looking at you like this.

"take it, love," he commanded softly, his voice dropping into a whisper. "show me how much you missed me."

you didn't hesitate. you leaned forward, your hands gripping his toned thighs for balance as your lips parted. 

the moment your mouth slid over his length, a deep groan tore from the back of Jaafar's throat. 

his fingers tightened in your hair, his hips giving a subtle, involuntary push forward as he let his eyes flutter shut for a fraction of a second.

you worked your mouth down his length, your tongue swirling over the tip, learning the shape of him all over again. every stroke of your tongue had him breathing heavier, his grip in your hair turning rougher as he began to guide your pace.

"fuck," he growled, his hips starting to roll in a slow, demanding rhythm against your lips. "you're perfect. so damn perfect." you moan as you graze your tongue over his slit. 

he pushed deeper, testing the limits of your throat, making a choked whine catch in your chest. the sound only seemed to drive him crazier. he began to pace himself against you, his breathing turning into harsh gasps that filled the empty kitchen. 

you looked up through your lashes, seeing the pleasure etched into his sharp jawline, his veins projecting against his neck as he fought to keep his control.

you paused for a fraction of a second, drawing in a shaky breath against his heat before your tongue began tracing tight circles around his tip, all while your hands slid down to firmly stroke the rest of his shaft. 

you then lower your tongue down his length to wrap your mouth around his balls, pulling a deep, ragged moan from his chest. 

you were sure he was done for. but Jaafar was never one to let you do all the work. tonight, he wanted to feel every single bit of you.

suddenly, his hands moved your head back. then, he effortlessly moved your body back up off the floor. 

your knees scraped slightly against the marble, but before you could even register the movement, he turned you around, pressing your stomach flat against the cool kitchen island.

the transition was so fast it made your head spin. your hands scrambled for something to hold on the smooth stone, your back arching automatically as Jaafar stepped up directly behind you, his heat pressing against your bare backside.

"J—" you gasped, the word cut short as he gripped your hip with one hand, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough that you knew it would leave a mark. 

a mark your boyfriend wouldn't see for two days, but one that belonged entirely to the man standing behind you right now. he reached down, his fingers sliding between your thighs to find you completely slick and ruined for him. 

he teased the sensitive bundle of nerves for just a second, pulling a loud, breathless sob from your lips. you're so wet for me, pretty," he whispered against your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe, making your whole body tremble. 

"look at the windows. look at the city while you take all of me." your eyes flew open, staring out at the glass windows. the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and white. 

you felt the head of his length press against your entrance, and before you could even catch a breath, Jaafar drove his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one deep, relentless stroke. 

a loud, shattered cry broke from your lips, echoing off the high ceilings of the penthouse. it was too much, too deep, filling you so completely that your fingers clawed at the edge of the countertop.

"oh, g-god... J, please," you whimpered, your head dropping onto your arms. 

"I got you," he growled, his pace instantly picking up. he didn't even give you time to adjust. he locked his hand onto your hip, using it as leverage as he began to drive into you with a punishing rhythm.

slap. the raw friction filled sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room, competing with the desperate sound of your joint breathing. every time he slammed into you, your body shifted forward against the quartz, the cold stone against your front half and the liquid fire spreading through your lower half. 

he was relentless, his chest pressing into your back with every stroke, his sweat dripping onto your bare shoulders. his hand meets your ass in a harsh strike.

“Jaafarrr,” you dragged out his name in a desperate sob. you wrapped one arm back, your fingers desperately finding his thigh, trying to anchor yourself as the pleasure began to build into something unfamiliar. 

Jaafar felt the tight, rhythmic flexing of your walls around him, and it broke whatever restraint he had left. His growls turned feral, his movements losing all their smooth cadence, turning rough and frantic.

"look at me," he demanded, his voice a strained and broken rasp. “he fuck you like this?” 

you could barely force your head up, attempting to twist your neck to look back at him. his face was a mask of pure, unadulterated lust, his eyes locked onto yours as he delivered three hard, deep thrusts that had you screaming into the empty apartment.

“baby ohmygoodness,” you moan. "you're mine," he choked out, his fingers bruising your hip as your joining escalated to that breaking point. "tell me... tell me you're mine."

"i'm yours! Jaafar, i'm yours!" you cried as a heavy rush of wetness spilled between your thighs, your vision completely blurring into stars as your body clamped down around him, the climax crashing over you in violent waves.

“shit!” Jaafar shouted, feeling the sudden trickle on his skin. hearing your undone cries was the final trigger. with a loud, roar against your neck, Jaafar buried himself as deep as he could go, his entire frame shuddering violently as he released himself inside you. 

he held you tightly against the counter, his chest heaving against your back, pinning you down until the very last drop of his cum filled you up. the only sound was the heavy, synchronized gasps of air filtering through your lungs.

slowly, Jaafar pulled out, a soft gasp escaping you at the sudden loss of his warmth. your legs felt like absolute water, buckling the moment he let go of your waist.

 he caught you before you could fall, gently turning you around and leaning you back against the island. he drops down onto his knees, lifting your left leg on his shoulder.

without warning, he licks a strip up your inner thigh, the sudden heat of his tongue making your entire body jerk.

you let out a sharp gasp, your fingers instantly clawing into his dark hair for balance as he held your leg securely over his broad shoulder. Jaafar didn't give you a single second to recover. He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning against your skin before his mouth pressed directly against the center of your ache, his tongue invoking a deep, wet stroke that had your hips tilting helplessly into his face.

"Jaaf—Jaafar I can’t," you whimpered, your head tossing back as your vision already began to blur.

he didn't answer, entirely focused on unraveling you. his long fingers dug into the flesh of your left thigh, holding you open and steady as his mouth completely worshipped you, his tongue moving with a relentless rhythm that drove you straight to the edge. again.

every flick of his tongue was intentional, tracing over your sensitive skin and lapping up the slick wetness that was pooling for him. you tried to swallow your moans. a string of high pitched whimpers broke from your lips, your thighs trembling violently against his chest.

"J, stop... plea–" you begged, your knuckles turning white as you yanked at his hair, trying to pull him away before you completely lost it.

instead of stopping, Jaafar let out a muffled growl against your skin, his hands gripping your hips even tighter to lock you in place.

 he increased the pace, his tongue flattening out to deliver those deep and heavy strokes right where you needed it most, while his thumb found your hip bone, pressing down hard.

a coiled spring in your chest that suddenly snapped.

you cried out as a heavy rush of wetness spilled between your thighs, for the second time. your leg shook on his shoulder, your entire frame locked in the paralyzing aftershocks of the release.

Jaafar didn't miss a beat. he drank down every drop of your release, his tongue lingering to clean you up with a smug, heavy satisfaction before he finally let your leg slide down from his shoulder.

you collapsed back against the dark quartz of the kitchen island, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your chest heaving. your body felt completely spent and overly sensitive. 

he didn't say a word as he reached down, picking up your discarded silk robe from the floor. he shook it out, draping it over your trembling shoulders and pulling the straps closed over your flushed, marked skin. 

without a word, he turned, gathering his shirt and leather jacket from the floor. He slipped them on, completely transforming back into the untouchable public figure the world knew, leaving no trace of the beast he had been just moments ago.

his fingers lingered on your collarbone, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek. he picks you up bridal style, bringing you to your bedroom. he gently places you on your king size bed, he looked down at you, his dark eyes still intense, but the chaotic hunger was quickly replaced by a sudden tenderness. Jaafar give you a soft kiss, it was deeper–more warmer than the ones you shared before. almost like he wanted to tell you something. “call me in the morning?”

“you’re not staying?” you look up at him, trying to catch his hands to pull him back to you. Jaafar shakes his head no, a feeling of disappointment creeps over you. he places another quick kiss on your forehead.

he steps back and shuts your light off. “goodnight pretty,” he whispered as he shut your room door.

he walked back into the living room, his boots clicking quietly against the floor, his eyes automatically drifting to the coffee table where your phone still rested. 

the screen was dark, but you both knew what was waiting underneath, the innocent text from your boyfriend, a completely different reality. Jaafar stopped at the edge of the room, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder. he didn't look at the phone. a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

you’re in bed together, the lights low, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside and dim light shining off the tv screen. he’s half leaned over you, one arm braced near your shoulder, the other still loosely holding your hand.

“can you just tell me what’s wrong baby?”

your boyfriend has been repeating this question all day. you didn’t know what was wrong. you caught an attitude “for no reason.”

or at least that’s what Jermajesty thought.

the honest truth was that you missed him, in all the ways a person could’ve been missed.

you’ve both been so busy with everything in the world. you couldn’t seem to find time for each other.

“maj honestly just leave me alone,” your tone made him flinch a bit. 

“what did i do princess,”  his voice filled with desperation.

you turn away from him, eyes now focused on your vanity mirror.

Jermajesty shifts closer to you, his hands gently moving to rub the backside of your right thigh.

“i don’t like this ma,” he inches closer to your nape. “i miss you.”

you needed to find an excuse to why you were acting like this. he began placing open mouth kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“hm, you do?” you ask him sarcastically.

“don’t be like that,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “you haven’t been talking to me all day.” 

you stare at the ceiling for a second. then back at him. 

“maybe i just didn’t feel like talking,” you sigh.

he lets out a soft laugh, like he doesn’t believe you for a second. “mm,” he murmurs. 

his fingers sink a little deeper into the meat of your thigh, his thumb rubbing a slow, deliberate circle that makes your skin tingle. 

he knows you too well. “you’re a terrible liar, mama,” he whispers, his voice thick with a husky warmth that goes straight to your core.

he shifts his weight, sliding his body fully over yours until you can feel the heavy, comforting press of his chest against your side.

 he hooks his chin over your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear. “tell me what’s really going on in that pretty head of yours.” 

you bite the inside of your lip, like that’s gonna magically keep you together or something. like you didn’t spend the whole day acting cold just to fall apart the second he’s this close again. but it’s pointless. because he’s right there. you’ve missed him way more than you’ve been willing to admit.

you swallow hard, the sudden sting of tears threatening to blur your vision as you turn to look up at him comfortably.

all that stubborn energy you’ve been wearing since this morning just melts under the heat of his gaze.

"i just..missed you," you finally confess, your voice barely a cracked whisper. 

"you’ve been everywhere but here, Maj. we’re in the same house and i still feel like i’m begging for a piece of you."

Jermajesty freezes. For a second, the only sound is the quiet hum of the television in front of you, but then his expression softens into something so raw and tender it makes your chest ache.

"oh," he breathes.

he doesn’t hesitate. he pulls his hand from your thigh and cups your face, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you didn't even realize had fallen. he presses his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.

"i’m so sorry, baby. i'm so fucking sorry," he murmurs against your lips.

 "i’ve been so caught up in my own shit, but—why didn’t you just say that pretty? i’m right here.”

there’s a silent moment before he seals the distance between you two.

the kiss was gentle. it’s reassuring and thick with all the unspoken longing that’s been building up between you both for weeks. 

his tongue slides into your mouth, claiming you with a deep, possessive stroke that leaves you completely breathless.

 you whimpered into the kiss, your fingers instantly tangling into the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, pulling him closer, desperate to erase every inch of space left between you.

Jermajesty groans, a low, vibration in his chest that rumbles right into yours. 

he shifts his weight, sliding completely between your thighs. the heavy weight of his bulge pressed firmly against your center, even through the fabric of your clothes, and a sharp jolt of pure desire was sent straight to your core.

"you should've just told me, mama," he growls against your mouth, breaking the kiss for just a second to trail a line of wet, biting kisses down your jawline, right to that sensitive spot on your neck he knows you love.

 "you don't ever have to fight for my attention. it's yours. all of it." his hands lose all their gentleness. 

they slide down your sides, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as he lifts you slightly, grinding his hips down into yours in one slow, agonizingly perfect roll. 

you gasp, your hips instinctively arching up to meet him, your hands gripping his shoulders in anticipation. “baby... please."

"please what, ma?" he whispers, his voice dropping an octave, thick and husky against your skin as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pink laced panties. "Use your words and tell me exactly what you want."

he can feel the way your body is trembling underneath him, the way your fingers are practically digging into his shoulders. “i’m waiting baby.”

“you-please i need you.” with that, he yanks your panties  down your legs, tossing them somewhere off the edge of the bed. 

when his bare hand slides back up your inner thigh, the feeling of his cool skin against your burning heat makes you shiver, your knees parting wider for him like it's second nature.

"look at me," he commanded softly, his voice strained.

you blink your eyes open, your vision hazy, to find him staring down at you. he unbuttons your pajama top, revealing your chest.

 his dark eyes are dilated, completely consumed by you. "i'm not going anywhere," he promises, his voice a low, raspy growl. "you have me. all night." 

to prove it, his fingers slide against your slit–finding you already slick and completely ready for him. 

you let out a broken little gasp, your head immediately tossing back into the pillow as his thumb finds your swollen nub, rubbing a slow, deep circle that mirrors the way he was touching your thigh earlier.

 the feeling was intense. it was too much but not enough at the same time.

"Jermajesty... mmhm," you moan his full name, your hands moving from his shoulders to grip the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

"yeah?  Just like that, princess?" he groans, watching your face track every single sensation. he positions your legs to where your knee touches your chest, exposing you completely to his gaze and his touch. 

he slowly enters his middle and ring finger, keeping his thumb on your clit.

 he starts moving his fingers inside you, a slow, deep rhythm that has you arching off the mattress, your breath coming in short, ragged whimpers.

he leans down, catching your lips in another messy, wet kiss to catch your moans, his tongue mimicking the exact pace of his hand. you’re completely overwhelmed by the feel of him—his weight pressing you into the bed, the smell of his cologne mixed with the heat of his skin, and the undeniable ache building between your legs.

he pulls back just enough to look at you again, his own breathing heavy and labored. 

losing your patience, your hands start to wander towards his waistband, dragging his pants down and pulling out his hard length.

he chuckles breathlessly, “need me that bad beautiful?” you lose your pride and pout while nodding up at him. he removes his pants completely before throwing his hoodie over his head and on the floor.

when he positions himself against you, the blunt tip of his length slightly nudged against your wetness, you lose whatever was left of your composure. 

you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. "Now, papa," you whimper, your voice tight with need. "please, i need you."

he lets out a shaky breath, his muscles tensing under your hands as he aligns himself. "i've got you, baby. i've got you."

Slowly, he drives himself inside you in one deep, unhurried roll of his hips. the sheer size of him stretches you completely, filling that empty ache so perfectly it draws a high-pitched, broken sob right out of your throat. 

you lock your legs around his waist, pulling him in as deep as he can go. your hands are tangled in his hair–needing to feel every single bit of his weight.

Jermajesty buries his face in the crook of your neck, his body completely rigid as he stays perfectly still inside you for a few heavy seconds, just letting you both adjust.

his chest is heaving against yours, his heart hammering almost a frantic rhythm right against your ribs.

 "f-fuck, mama," he whimpered, the sound muffled against your skin, his hands coming up to grip your right boob. "you’re so tight."  he starts to move, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, a long, agonizingly slow stroke that makes your eyes roll back. 

“oh my fuck,” you cry out, your hands slipping from his shoulders to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back.

 all that attitude because of the distance from the past few weeks is completely gone, erased by the sweet sounds of your bodies coming together in the quiet room. 

"look at daddy, baby" he pants, forcing his shaky arms to prop himself up so he can look down at you.

when you blink your eyes open, you see the sheer intensity in his face. he’s completely engrossed in you, his jaw clenched, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead.

 he picks up the pace, his thrusts losing that initial drive, becoming harder, heavier, driving into you with a desperation that matches exactly how much you’ve missed him. 

“ouu fuckk,” you scream. your eyes roll to the back of your head, your mind going completely blank. Curses flying out your tongue with every stroke. 

“daddy m-missed this pussy so much,” his voice completely wrecked as he leans down to bite gently at your shoulder, his hips rolling into you in a merciless, relentless rhythm. “did she miss me?”

“yesyesyes,” the pleasure is sharp and immediate, building a tight coil right in the pit of your stomach. 

every time his hips slam into yours, a loud, wet slap echoes in the quiet space, mixing with the ragged sound of your breathing. 

"Maj, wait—i'm gonna—" you cut yourself off with a loud, breathless moan as he hits that exact spot that sends a shockwave through your entire body.

"don't hold it back, mama," he moans. "Come for me. let me feel it." 

you don’t even have a choice. the second his teeth graze your skin, your walls completely give out. 

your hips jerk upward on instinct, your entire body tightening around him as your climax hits you in hard waves.

 you let out a loud, undone cry against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as the heat ripples through your core.

hearing you break completely shatters whatever restraint Jermajesty had left.

he lets out a low, guttural groan, his fingers digging bruisingly deep into your hips as he drives into you three more times—hard, fast, and completely uncontrolled. 

on the last heavy stroke, he buries himself as deep as he can possibly go, his whole body locking up as he releases inside you. 

the room goes completely still again, for a long time, neither of you moves. Jermajesty collapses his weight onto you, his face buried back in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and erratic against your damp skin.

he keeps his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you like he’s still terrified you’re going to slip away if he lets go.

slowly, his breathing starts to level out. he shifts slightly, kissing the soft skin just beneath your ear before lifting his head to look down at you, his eyes still dark but completely softened.

"you still feel like i'm too busy for you?" he whispers, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you let out a weak, breathy laugh, your hands lazily tracing the muscles of his arms. "Maybe a little. you might have to remind me again tomorrow."

 "bet. i'll remind you every single day, baby." Jermajesty lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.

he carefully shifts his weight, sliding out of you with a quiet groan that makes you both shiver slightly at the sudden loss of warmth. 

before you can even miss him, he pulls you right against his side, wrapping one heavy arm securely around your waist and tugging the duvet up over both of your damp shoulders.

“you know how much i love you, right?”

“i love you, angel.” you say as you turn to caress his face. 

he lets out a soft, contented sigh at your words, the last bit of tension completely leaving his shoulders.

 he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. a slow, sweet, and lingering, a complete switch from the fire just a few moments ago.

"i mean it, ma," he murmurs against your mouth, his thumb gently tracing your jawline. "i know things have been crazy lately, but you’re my priority. always."

you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thud of his heartbeat as it gradually slows down. 

Jermajesty buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. one of his legs hooks over yours, anchoring you to him in the dark.

"don't ever keep that shit to yourself again," he whispers into the quiet room, his fingers running smooth, soothing lines up and down your bare arm.

 "if you miss me, just tell me. i’ll drop whatever i’m doing. No attitudes."

you smile into the dark, your eyes growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day finally catches up to you. you wrap your arm around his torso, squeezing him tight. "i will. promise. i’m sorry." you softened your tone.

1971- Encino: Los Angeles, California

7:32 PM

Dinner had just ended. Your eldest sister cleared the table as everyone began to settle down, preparing for tomorrow.

You were the youngest of 7 kids, 4 sisters and 2 brothers. You and your sisters are models. Representation– familiar faces from billboards, to ads, movies. Your family was definitely a household name. But behind closed doors, safe to say you were definitely the princess of the house.

“Alright you two,” your mother smiles down at you and your twin brother. “You two go get ready for school tomorrow. I’ll tuck you in after cleaning this up.”

You both finish up your juice and give the cups to your mom.

“Goodnight daddy,” you say softly as you kiss him on the cheek. “Night-Night my Angel.”

Just as you were going upstairs to your room, you overhear your parents talking below you.

“Jackson’s huh,” you heard from your father, “living next to us? What’s the possibility?” 

“Well baby,” your mother says, “they are rising stars and you know–California has a lot of opportunities for them.”

“Plus,” she smiles, “s’nice to have another mother who understands having gifted children.”

Your father quickly kisses her forehead before heading to their bedroom, “I know honey.”

Next Day 

4:57 PM

You hear three soft knocks to your bedroom door.

“Babygirl,” your mother comes in. “Do you want to go over to the jackson’s n’ give em’ these cookie’s momma made?”

You nod, “Just us?”

“Just us, Sugar.” Hearing that, you quickly mark the page you left off in your Disney’s Cinderella book. There was no purpose of that, you’ve read that same book a million times already.

You slip on your pink shoes, fluff out your dress and make your way outside.

“Hey sweet thing, you ready?” She reaches her hand out to you.

You take her hand and she mumbles to your drivers that you guys are quickly going down the road to greet the new 

neighbors.

You and your mother walk for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, you arrive at their gate. Immediately, it feels like there’s a million and one things going on. 

There’s people all outside the house, workers maybe. 

BUZZ

*Hello? Can I help you?* A tender voice acknowledging the two of you.

“Hi,” your mother says eagerly. “We–uh we are your neighbors, right down the street.”

For a second there was nothing.

“Just brought some treats and wanted to introduce myself,” your mother added.

*Oh, of course. Give me just a second.* The intercom clicked off. 

“Momma, what if they don’t want visitors right now?” you whispered. The weight of the tin full of cookies shifted in your mothers hands. Your mother then shot you a look.

“Babygirl, if somebody walked all the way down our driveway with homemade cookies, would I turn them away?” You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

“Exactly,” your mom responded smugishly.

 A low mechanical hum sounded from somewhere ahead. The large iron gates slowly began to open. Instinctively, you stepped a little closer to your mother.

As the gates parted, the property seemed even bigger than before. Men carried boxes in and out of the house while others unloaded furniture from trucks parked along the circular driveway.

“They’re still moving in,” your mother murmured. Before either of you could take another step, the front door opened. A woman emerged onto the porch. She wore a warm smile despite the obvious chaos surrounding her. 

The moment she spotted the cookies, her shoulders relaxed. “Hello there,” she greeted. Your mother smiled back immediately. “Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt. We live right down the road and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” The woman made her way down the steps toward the gate. “I’m Katherine.”

 “It’s lovely to meet you, Katherine.” The two women exchanged introductions before your mother lifted the cookie tin. “I baked these this morning.”

Katherine placed a hand over her heart. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.” A laugh escaped her.

“I don’t think we’ve cooked a proper meal in two days.” The adults shared a knowing smile. Then Katherine’s attention drifted downward. “And who is this pretty girl?”

You suddenly found the toes of your shoes very interesting. Your mother gently nudged your shoulder. “Go on, sugar.”

You looked up. “Hi.” 

Katherine’s smile widened.“Well, hello, sweetheart.”

A voice suddenly called from somewhere inside the house. “Mama!” You glanced toward the front door. A skinny boy with curious dark eyes appeared in the doorway. He couldn’t have been much older than you. The second he noticed strangers standing by the gate, he stopped. For a moment, neither of you looked away.

Katherine turned around. “Michael, come say hello.” The boy hesitated. 

Then slowly, he started down the front steps.

1980

That was 9 years ago.

You and Michael ended up attached by the hip.

You were different to him, someone finally genuine.

Everyone around him wanted something from him. You don’t. Because of that, Michael naturally gravitated towards you.

He’d just finished and released ‘Off the wall,’ his first solo album.

This was huge, he was separating himself from his brothers.

But to Michael, the bigger he became globally, the more important your friendship became to one another.

Whether it was sneaking out of rehearsals early just to lay in the park with you. Or staying on the phone with him, till dawn. Just listening to each other. Neither of you wanted to hang up first.

“Girllll, you would never believe what these paparazzi were saying–just to try to get weird information out of me,” He would often say with the biggest smile on his face. 

Or you would call him right after your two hour long practice, “Mikey, I cannot with this coach. How am I supposed to be captain and she won’t even allow me to lead the team properly.”

Michael chuckles, “sounds like college isn’t as fun as you thought it was gonna be, huh?”

You roll your eyes, “I should be on the road, singing like you are. All the girls do over here is just talk about you.”

“I’m flattered,” he snorts. “Make sure you tell them I'm available, always looking for some good fish.”

“Boy, you crazy.” You scoff as your smile increases.

1984 

Michael’s career skyrocketed like no other. He was huge, his face was everywhere. His name was everything.

It no longer hurt or surprised you when he began to miss birthdays or complain when he disappeared for months on end.

You understood his life in a way very few people did.

 You were busy yourself–shoots for Vogue, featuring in music videos, guest starring in movies or popular sitcoms. You were the face of the 80’s. You were booming and living up to your title of a “trendsetter.” 

The both of you were still close despite the busy schedule, he’d sometimes call from all over the world. Waking you up just to hear a familiar voice, or to get an opinion on an adlib or lyric he feels doesn’t fit.

Everyone around him knows that your opinion genuinely matters to him. You were his best friend after all, the only friend that’s been consistent even throughout his troubled times. You know why he canceled plans, why he sometimes disappears into recording studios for days. And because you never pressured him, he always knew to come back.

Seeing your status and relationships, everyone wanted to be like you–especially when they saw you on Michael’s arm.

After the Grammys: 1984

Micheal had just won eight grammys at the 26th annual Grammy Awards. The entire world is celebrating him, interviews, paparazzi everywhere, endless camera flashes. This was the win of the century.

But somehow, he still ended up in your hotel room. Shoes kicked off, his custom jacket hung neatly on the door. The high of all his wins linger in the air. Somehow it felt like you had won all those grammys too.

“Did I already tell you how proud I am of you?” you questioned for the eighth time. 

“Yes,” he giggled. “But I'm not opposed to hearing it all night long.” You snicker and throw your pillow at him. 

“What girl!” Michael proclaimed. “Don’t get cocky, you’re still my applehead.” He acknowledged that with a hm. 

“Hey,” he pauses for a moment. “Let’s do something crazy right now.” “Crazy? Like what,” you questioned your best friend.

He smiles suspiciously, “call your private jet–let’s go abroad.”

“Michael,” you shake your head. “We literally can’t.”

“Why not! C’mon let’s do something…spontaneous,” He tries to convince you.

“Mikey–” 

“Please?” He urges.

“Fine. Fine. Fine.” You start dialing the number to your assistant. “Where do you wanna go,” you glance at your friend.

“Spain.”

Eleven hours felt like eleven years. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

Why would you agree to this? You guys had nothing but the clothes on your backs. When he said spontaneous, maybe you thought disney or universal. Not Spain–but can you complain? You agreed.

The built-in television screen plays your favorite cartoons. Michael completely tuned in, laughing at every joke, in disbelief at every sad moment. You couldn’t think straight anymore.

“Michael,” he doesn’t notice that you called for him. “Michael Joseph Jackson!”

“What is it girl? Jeez loosen up a bit, will ya?”

“Mike what are we supposed to do,” you whisper. “We have nothing.”

“Chill out, I got you.”

“Mich–” he cuts you off. Michael finally looks at you, “Don’t you trust me?”

You roll your eyes and sit back into your chair. There was nothing you could do anymore. You folded your arms and turned toward the window.

Below, the city lights had long since disappeared beneath a blanket of clouds. The cabin had grown quiet. Most of the crew had disappeared to the front of the jet, leaving the two of you alone. 

For the first time all night, Michael wasn’t talking. That should’ve worried you. Slowly, you glanced over.

His eyes remained fixed on the cartoon playing on the television screen, but he wasn’t really watching anymore. His smile had faded. The excitement from the Grammys. It all seemed miles away now. 

“You okay?” you asked quietly. Michael blinked before looking over at you. “Hm?” 

“You got awfully quiet.” For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”

You narrowed your eyes. A laugh escaped him.

 “What?” 

“You’ve been running on two hours of sleep since Tuesday. You’re exhausted, not tired.” 

“Is there a difference?” “To normal people? No.” 

Michael grinned. “Good thing I’m not normal.” You groaned. “There he is.”

The laugh that left him this time sounded genuine. For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. Then he leaned back in his seat. “You know what’s crazy?” 

“What?” 

He paused,“everybody wanted a piece of me tonight.” You looked over.

His voice had softened. “The reporters.”

He ticked one finger. “The record executives.”

Another finger. “The photographers.”

Another. “The fans.”

His hand dropped into his lap.

“Everybody.” The cabin fell silent.

“But when I left…” A small smile appeared on his face. “I only wanted to see you.” Suddenly, the plane felt a lot smaller.

Your stomach flipped, Michael didn’t seem to notice.

Because instead of looking at the television, he was looking directly at you. “That’s why I came to your room.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re the only place that still feels normal.”

“You know,” Michael says.

“Hm?”

“When we’re eighty, we’re still gonna be doing stupid stuff like this.” 

You laugh.“Eighty?”

“Maybe ninety.” “Bold of you to assume I won’t be sick of you by then.” Michael gasps dramatically. “See? This is why I can’t take you anywhere.” 

You smile and lean your head against his shoulder. “Good thing you’re stuck with me.” 

“Forever, applehead.”