ᝰ.ᐟ

2026 los angeles

you were so excited for tonight.

genevieve was celebrating her birthday with a party, and for the first time in what felt like forever, your identical twin sister, olivia, was actually going to be in the same city long enough to make it. she worked as a flight attendant, so getting more than three consecutive days with her before she was off to another destination always felt like a small miracle.

the last time she had been in town, you were out to lunch with jaafar and genevieve when your phone rang. olivia had just landed and asked if you could come pick her up from the airport. the three of you headed that way without a second thought, and somewhere between the drive from the airport and the rest of the afternoon together, jaafar had taken an immediate liking to her. what started as exchanging numbers before she flew back out for work had quickly turned into daily texts, late-night facetime calls whenever their schedules lined up, and counting down the days until they could finally see each other again.

at this point, despite you and olivia looking identical, jaafar could tell the two of you apart without even thinking about it, so he was just as excited for tonight as you were.

you, however, had something else you were looking forward to.

jermajesty was finally going to meet your sister.

he knew you had a twin, but somewhere along the way he'd assumed the two of you were fraternal. he had never actually asked, and you had never thought to correct him, mostly because it had never mattered. after all, every time olivia came home, either she was working, you were busy, or jermajesty had something going on. somehow, despite the year the two of you had been together, tonight would be the first time your worlds were all in the same room.

on the drive to the club for genevieve's party, your phone buzzed every few minutes with updates from your sister; she was at her hotel getting ready, her flight had landed while you, jermajesty, and the rest of the family were still out at dinner.

by the time everyone arrived at the club, another text popped up: i'm in an uber. almost there.

you smiled to yourself as you typed back that security already had your name at the door, but considering she also happened to have your face, you doubted she'd have much trouble getting inside.

a few minutes later, your screen lit up again: i'm here.

you looked over at jermajesty. “i’m gonna go grab my sister at the door,” you say.

jermajesty nodded before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.“alright, imma go to the bathroom then to the bar, you want your usual?” he asks.

you nodded, smiling as you leaned in to steal one more quick kiss before the two of you split off in opposite directions.

that was one thing about you and jermajesty, neither of you could ever seem to keep your hands off the other.

it wasn't anything over the top. it was simply who you were together. a hand finding the other's, a kiss in passing, his arm settling around your waist whenever you stood beside him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his while you talked. physical touch had become its own language between the two of you, and even being apart for a few minutes felt strange when you'd grown so used to always reaching for each other.

you made your way toward the entrance while jermajesty disappeared into the crowd, heading for the restroom before making his promised stop at the bar.

as soon as you reached the front, you spotted olivia waiting just outside the ropes. you waved to the security guard. “she's with me.”

the guard nodded before looking from you, to olivia, then slowly back to you again. his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly as he found himself staring at the exact same face twice. after a second, he just shook his head with an amused laugh and stepped aside to let her through.

the moment she crossed the entrance, you wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. “ah, i’ve missed you livvy, how was the trip?” you ask and she smiles.

“barcelona is beautiful. we’re going there for our birthday… we were only there for 3 days, but i already marked all of the places we need to go back and see,” she says and you can't help but smile.

you swear your sister could convince you to book a flight anywhere just by talking about it. every trip she came home from was filled with stories about hidden cafés, little shops tucked away on side streets, and places she insisted the two of you had to experience together one day. even with her constantly traveling for work, the two of you had always promised each other that your own vacations would never be spent apart, and hearing her already making birthday plans with you made the months she'd been away feel a little smaller.

“perfect, i’ll start packing my bags now,” you tease.

she laughs, and before long you're both laughing together so naturally that it reminds you just how much you've missed having her around. facetime calls and text messages were enough to keep each other updated, but nothing compared to standing in front of your sister again after weeks apart, hearing her laugh without a speaker between you and wrapping your arms around her whenever you wanted instead of waiting until her next flight home.

then her eyes begin wandering over the crowd. “now, where’s jaafar?” she asks.

you immediately burst into another fit of laughter. “wow,” you tease. “i see where your priorities are.”

she nudges your shoulder with hers, unsuccessfully trying to hide the smile spreading across her face as you guide her toward the section where everyone was gathered.

genevieve notices the two of you first and immediately pulls olivia into a hug, telling her how happy she is that she was able to make it and how good it is to see her again. the hug has barely ended before jaafar is already standing in front of her, and the smile that crosses both of their faces makes it obvious how much they've both been looking forward to tonight.

for weeks they'd had to settle for facetime calls squeezed in between flights and filming schedules, counting down until they could finally have an actual conversation without worrying about someone's connection freezing or one of them having to rush off. now neither of them had to look through a screen anymore.

they could finally just be together. jaafar wraps his arms around her, and olivia hugs him back just as tightly and watching them makes you smile to yourself. setting them up had turned out even better than you'd hoped.

“hey, when maj gets back can you tell him i went to the bathroom?” you ask. your sister nods.

“i’ll come with,” genevieve says. you exchange a knowing smile with jaafar before you and genevieve head toward the bathroom, intentionally leaving the two of them alone for a few minutes.

“so, how was your trip?” jaafar asks.

she laughs immediately, rolling her eyes. “really, j?” she asks.

he laughs too, fully aware that he'd already heard every story she could possibly tell after listening to them over facetime all week, but hearing them wasn't really the point. he had simply wanted an excuse to hear her voice while she was standing right in front of him instead of coming through the speakers of his phone.

without another word, he reaches up and gently cups her cheek before pulling her into a kiss that both of them had been waiting weeks to share.

unfortunately, jermajesty had terrible timing.

he was making his way back from the bar with both of your drinks in his hands when his eyes instinctively started searching through the crowd for you. he expected to find you laughing with genevieve somewhere nearby or waiting for him where the two of you had been standing before you went to get your sister.

instead, his eyes landed on someone with your hair, your dress, and your face sitting impossibly close to jaafar. before his mind could even process what he was seeing, that person leaned in and kissed his brother.

jermajesty stopped walking so abruptly that one of the drinks nearly sloshed over the edge of the cup.

nothing about what he was looking at made sense.

he had known you long enough to know the way you looked at him, the way you reached for his hand without thinking, the way your entire face softened whenever you smiled at him. he had also known the relationship you had with jaafar since before the two of you had even started dating. if anything, the two of you behaved like siblings, constantly teasing each other and making fun of one another whenever the opportunity presented itself. romance between you and jaafar had never even crossed his mind because it simply wasn't something that existed.

which was exactly why his brain refused to accept what his eyes were telling him.

it couldn't be you, but every time he looked again, it was still your face. his stomach dropped. without even realizing he'd done it, he hurried over to the nearest table and set both drinks down before pushing through the crowd toward them.

“jaafar, what the fuck, man!?” jermajesty yells as he yanks them apart.

olivia stumbles back in surprise, completely caught off guard by the stranger who had just pulled her away from jaafar, while jaafar looks between his younger brother and olivia only once before the realization immediately hits him.

he knows exactly what jermajesty thinks he just saw.

“okay, hold on, maj, let me explain,” jaafar says.

“explain what? that you and my girl are playing in my face?” jermajesty asks, and the hurt in his voice catches jaafar off guard.

this wasn't jealousy or anger. this was the sound of someone whose entire understanding of the person he loved had just been turned upside down in the span of a few seconds.

jermajesty loved you with everything he had, so much so that he'd already been quietly planning the next chapter of your lives together. jaafar had been helping him pick out rings, giving opinions on proposal ideas, and listening while jermajesty talked about the future he wanted with you. now he was standing in front of the two people he trusted most, trying to understand how the life he'd been imagining could have unraveled without him ever noticing.

“maj, hold on–” jaafar tries again.

“you’ve been helping me plan a proposal while sneaking around with her behind my back!?” jermajesty asks. the words reach you just as you and genevieve step back into the room from the bathroom, and your heart immediately sinks into your stomach.

you've never heard jermajesty's voice sound like that before. your eyes widen as you look from him, to jaafar, and then to your sister, and then, all at once, you realize exactly what happened.

“proposal?” jermajesty hears your voice, and his head snaps around so quickly it almost makes him dizzy. you're standing there beside genevieve exactly where he expected you to be, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.

for a second, he can't move. he slowly turns back toward jaafar and the girl standing beside him with the face that looks exactly like yours. then he turns back to you, and then back to olivia again.

“what did we just walk in on?” genevieve asks as she takes in jermajesty’s horrified expression, jaafar's pleading look, and olivia's equally confused one.

“i–i thought…” jermajesty turns back to you, still trying to piece everything together. “you were…” he trails off before looking over at olivia again, his eyebrows knitting together in complete disbelief. “am i that drunk already or are there two of you?” jermajesty asks.

a laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

the sound immediately catches jermajesty's attention, and despite the emotional whiplash he'd just been put through, seeing you laugh instead of looking guilty eases the tightness that had been squeezing his chest ever since he walked back from the bar.

“maj saw me and liv kissing and he thought it was you,” jaafar says to you with a small sigh. “and i was trying to explain that it wasn’t you,” jaafar says.

that was all it took.

the entire situation clicked into place in your head, and before you could even think about holding it in, you doubled over laughing.

jermajesty watched you for a second before shaking his head, a disbelieving smile finally breaking through all the panic he'd been feeling.

“mama, that’s not funny. i almost had a fucking heart attack,” jermajesty says as he walks over to you.

the second he reaches you, his arms instinctively slide around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as though he needs to reassure himself that you're really there. he buries his face against the side of your neck, his shoulders finally relaxing now that he can hold you again, and the soft brush of his curls against your cheek makes your smile grow even wider.

for the first time since he'd walked into the misunderstanding, his heartbeat finally began settling back into something normal.

behind the two of you, jaafar, olivia, and genevieve all started laughing too, the tension that had filled the room only moments ago dissolving almost instantly now that everyone understood what had happened.

you reached up and rested your hand over jermajesty's forearm where it was wrapped securely around your waist before looking over at your sister.

“well, livvy… this is my boyfriend jermajesty,” you introduce.

olivia finally lets out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding and laughs, the confusion she'd felt after being abruptly pulled away from jaafar giving way to relief now that the misunderstanding had finally been explained.

“maj… my twin sister olivia,” you say.

jermajesty lifts his head from your shoulder but doesn't let go of you, his arms remaining comfortably around your waist as he looks over at olivia with an embarrassed smile.

“i’m sorry for flipping out like that,” he says to olivia.

jaafar and olivia both shake their heads almost immediately.

“no, i understand… just means you love my sister,” she says.

jermajesty doesn't hesitate.

“more than i’ve ever loved anyone i’m not related to,” he says.

the sincerity in his voice steals the breath from your lungs.

your cheeks warm almost instantly as you bite down on your lip, hoping it might hide the smile threatening to take over your entire face, but judging by the amused looks everyone around you was giving, it wasn't working very well.

even after everything that had just happened, he still had an effortless way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room.

“you could’ve at least told me she was your identical twin,” he says.

you smile up at him.

“you never told me you assumed she was fraternal,” you say.

jermajesty lets out a quiet groan before laughing to himself, realizing he had absolutely no one to blame but himself for the emotional roller coaster he'd just endured.

“now, what was this about a proposal?” you ask as you tilt your head back to look at him.

his eyes meet yours, and despite everyone standing around the two of you, his attention settles entirely on you.

his hand gives your waist a gentle squeeze, a familiar gesture that had become second nature whenever he looked at you.

“from the beginning, this relationship was only ever headed in one direction,” jermajesty says as he presses a lingering kiss against your temple.

the simple gesture makes you melt into him, and when you glance around, you catch the knowing smiles spreading across the faces of your siblings.

none of them are surprised.

if anything, they all look like they're quietly waiting for the day jermajesty finally asks the question out loud, because after seeing the way he'd reacted to believing he'd lost you for all of five minutes, there wasn't a single person standing there who doubted how deeply he loved you or how certain he was that forever had always been the plan.

“well, my answer is obviously yes, but i still need that official proposal,” you say.

jermajesty laughs, shaking his head as he looks down at you. hearing you joke about spending the rest of your lives together instead of questioning what he'd seen felt like the greatest relief he could've asked for.

“you just want me on my knees,” he says. a smirk slowly spreads across your face.

the moment your eyes meet your sister's, she immediately recognizes that look. after twenty-something years of being twins, she knows exactly when you're about to say something that will get you into trouble.

“you do that regardless,” you say.

olivia bursts into laughter loud enough to turn a few heads around your section of the club, while genevieve doubles over beside her, giggling just as hard. jaafar lets out an exasperated laugh as he drags a hand down his face, already knowing exactly where the conversation had gone.

jermajesty can only shake his head as he pulls you a little closer against his side, giving your waist another gentle squeeze. “don’t be putting our business out there, mama,” he says.

you only smile, completely unapologetic. “where’s my drink, though?” you ask.

jermajesty's eyes suddenly widen. “oh, shit, i gotta get new ones. the shock of thinking you were making out with jaafar made me put them down and somebody else probably snatched them up by now,” he says.

he leans down to kiss your cheek before making his way back toward the bar, and you watch him disappear into the crowd with a smile that still hadn't left your face. once he was gone, you slid onto the couch beside your sister before looking over at jaafar.

“i can’t believe he thinks i would make out with you,” you say as you scrunch up your nose.

jaafar places a hand over his chest, pretending to be personally wounded. “what’s wrong with me?” he asks as he laughs.

you immediately shake your head. “nothing, but you’re like my annoying older brother, i wouldn’t make out with you,” you say.

jaafar laughs, unable to argue with that comparison because, it was true. long before you'd ever started dating jermajesty, the two of you had the kind of friendship that naturally settled into something that felt more like siblings.

he teased you constantly, looked out for you without thinking about it, and had eventually been the reason you and jermajesty met in the first place, because he knew the two of you would go well together. the idea of anything romantic between the two of you was so ridiculous that it only made the misunderstanding even funnier.

“love you too, sis,” he says and you smile.

a few minutes later, jermajesty returned with two fresh drinks in his hands, making sure not to take his eyes off them this time.

the second he sat down beside you, he instinctively pulled you back against him, resting an arm securely around your waist. you settled comfortably against his chest without another thought, smiling to yourself when you felt him absentmindedly kiss the side of your head while everyone else continued talking around you.

by the time randy jr. arrived and finally met your sister, the story had somehow already become funnier than it had been fifteen minutes earlier.

everyone eagerly retold the entire misunderstanding from the beginning, explaining how jermajesty had nearly fought his own brother in the middle of the club because he'd been convinced jaafar was making out with his girlfriend.

randy laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes, while jermajesty sat there with bright red cheeks, trying unsuccessfully to defend himself.

however, as embarrassed as he'd been, there wasn't a single part of him that minded becoming the punchline tonight. after the panic he'd felt only a short while earlier, sitting there with you tucked safely against his side and your fingers intertwined with his was more than enough to remind him that everything was exactly as it should be.

the rest of genevieve's birthday was filled with dancing, and laughter about the misunderstanding that happened, and by the end of the night, jermajesty had accepted that this would probably become one of those stories the family would never let him live down. secretly, though, he didn't mind all that much.

because every version of the story ended the same way; with you still in his arms.

The screen read, “Cracking every time we agree,” over a smiling couple. The audio listed fast food places, and every time they opened their eyes, the video cut to them in bed, seeming discombobulated.

After watching it, he nodded. “What does cracking mean?” His eyebrow lifted. You smacked your teeth, “Sex.”

A gasp left his mouth, “They were having sex this whole time?”

“Only when they agreed.” You laughed. “Let’s get to it then.” He shrugged.

You sat next to him, pressing the audio to record the both of you. You both closed your eyes, “Taco bell.”

You opened your eyes, and Jaafar opened his making you both giggle.

•••

“F-fuck.” You whimpered as Jaafar sucked on your clit. He let out an airy laugh at the shake of your legs near his head. His warm, heavy tongue felt heavenly on you, already on the verge of your orgasm.

“You taste so good.” He muttered, suctioning his mouth across your entire slit, sucking and releasing. Your eyes rolled back, fingers lacing through his curls.

Your body vibrated as you the knot in your stomach unraveled, cumming in his mouth.

•••

Your hair was now ruffled and Jafaar had a big smile on his face as both of you were in frame and your eyes were closed. “Burger King.” The audio said, you kept your eyes closed and Jaafar opened his.

“Mcdonalds.”

You and Jaafar opened your eyes.

•••

“Just like that, baby.” He cooed, holding your waist as you bounced on his lap. The clap of skin meeting sounded through out the room, mixed with your moans from his tip kissing your g spot.

“You’re so big, shit!” You cried, nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Look at how you taking it.” He bit his bottom lip, watching the cream foam around his dick.

He was practically in your stomach, using his hips to meet you halfway. “I’m ‘bout to cum.” You dropped your head into the crook of his shoulder. His hands grabbed your ass, forcing you to the base of his dick, making you take him fully.

Your second orgasm washed through you with a loud moan.

•••

You couldn’t even sit up properly, you laid down as you recorded, showing Jaafar sitting up next to you. Both glazed in sweat.

“Chili’s”

You and Jaafar both looked at each other, and you couldn’t help but let out a groan.

•••

“Go slow, I’m sensitiveee,” you whined, head dropping back down into the pillow. Jaafar was behind you, hips pounding against your ass. His hands tightly gripped your waist, tugging you back with every thrust.

“Shhh, you got it.” He whispered under his breath, too caught up in the way your ass rippled against him. His dick stretched you out, making you hold on to the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

“F-fuck, let uppp.” You whined, attempting to inch forward for a breather. You don’t even know why you bothered. “Stop running, take that shit.” He muttered, palms finding your upper back.

He pressed down and your back naturally arched, pushing your butt up more towards him. Your mouth dropped open as drool began to spill from your mouth, absolutely in bliss.

“I’m ‘bout to cum, want me to fill you up?” He asked. You could barely answer, nothing but moans coming out. His fingers laced through your hair, gently tugging you upwards.

“Answer me, baby.”

“Y-yes.” You cried, “please fill me up.”

He groaned, speeding up his movements, sending both of you into an orgasm.

•••

You were splayed out out, sweating, lashes off, still trying to catch your breath. Jaafar held the phone up, shirt off, curls sticking to his forehead, and still a smile on his face.

The comforter was buried to your neck, covering your naked body from the camera.

“Wendy’s.” You would’ve opened your eyes but that ache between your legs told you otherwise. Unlike Jaafar, whose eyes quickly opened.

“Domino’s.”

You cracked one eye open, seeing Jaafar already staring at you wide-eyed and an airy laugh spilled from you.

•••

Your legs were tossed over Jaafar’s shoulders and his hands were beside your head as he thrusted into you. Your pussy was throbbing, but you couldn’t help but moan.

“You feel so damn good.” He groaned, breathing on your neck. “So deep.” You whimpered. Your hand gripped at the sheets, taking everything he’s giving you.

His curls tickled the side of your face, and his natural scent hit your nose making you clench around him. Your toes curled and your body began to shake.

“How you feeling?” He lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were blown out in lust and half-lidded. “I ca—I don—p-please.” You moaned, you felt yourself getting closer and closer, babbling even thought your mind was blank.

“Give it to me, baby.” He kissed your cheek, your jaw, and then met your lips. You cried as you squirted around him, waves of liquid spreading. “Just like that.” He said, sitting up to watch you make a mess.

He continued to pound into you, carrying you through your orgasm. Moments later, he stilled inside of you, letting his warm cum spill inside of you.

•••

You were knocked out. Dead to the world. You did not think this through clearly. Jaafar finished the recording by giving you a kiss on the forehead.

All he put was a shrug emoji and posted it. He wouldn’t mind doing this challenge again.

the date was a complete disaster from start to finish. you would’ve at least given him a point for driving across town to pick you up at your place, but that didn't even scratch the bare minimum considering what he put you through the rest of the night. he showed up twenty minutes late without so much as a quick text or apology, spent the first half of dinner monologuing about his workout routine, and spent the second half checking his phone under the table. by the time the bill came, he acted like he’d bought you a house instead of two watered down drinks, leaning in at the end of the night with a sleazy, expectant grin like he fully counted on an invitation to your apartment.

you didn't even let him drive you home. the second you excused yourself to the restroom, you pulled out your phone. 

can u come get me?

his reply came back almost immediately.

send me the address. i’m on my way. 

that was just how it was with him.

it had always been that way. ever since you two were kids running around his house, scraping your knees on the driveway and playing around. jaafar was your safe haven. he knew every single thing about you — every secret, every insecurity, every terrible decision — and you knew him just as deeply. you knew the insane work ethic he hid behind his easygoing nature, and the grounding presence he brought into your life whenever the rest of the world felt overwhelming. when nobody else listened, jaafar did. 

a few minutes later, his car pulled up to the curb.

jaafar’s eyes swept over you as you walked to his passenger door. you were wearing a short white sundress. it was tight at the waist, flowy at the bottom, with a low scoop at the neck. maybe even a bit too low, not that he should be noticing that anyway.

by the time he put the car in park and rolled the windows down you were right there, resting your arms on the edge of the driver’s side window as you leaned through it. you brought the summer heat in with you, coming so close he could smell your perfume. a new scent, but the same old proximity. you never had much of a sense of personal space with him. 

plus, he didn’t mind when you leaned so far over into the body of his car that the neckline of your pretty dress fell open. but he kept his eyes on yours.

you were all done up. you'd made an effort tonight, and he could see it. you looked down at him through heavy lashes, your glossy lips tugging into a smile.

he wondered how someone could’ve fucked up that badly on a date with you.

“are you the uber i ordered?” you grinned.

“oh you think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“one of us has to be the funny one.”

he smiled at you as he scanned your expression.

you were smiling too, bright and easy. anyone else would've believed it. but he knew better.

“how’s my comedian doing?” he asked. “you okay?”

you let out a dramatic sigh. “i’m fine. it’s not a big deal.”

“but you made me come pick you up. that sounds like a big deal.”

there was a moment of heavy silence, and then you let your smile relax.

“if i’m being honest, i’m better now that you’re here. so thank you.” you said.

“you never have to thank me,” he said, shifting his car into park.

he pushed the door open, and you stepped back to give him room. he stepped into the space, now being the one to look down at you. he was always so much taller than you, even when u were kids.

he opened his arms wide, giving you an unsaid invitation.

a small smile broke across your face as you stepped right into him, melting against his frame. you pressed your cheek firmly into the center of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and wrapped your arms tight around his torso.

he closed his arms around you instantly, pulling you flush against him. one of his large, warm hands settled flat against the small of your back, holding you close, while the other rested gently against the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. he rested his chin right on top of your head.

it was a short hug but it instantly made you feel better.

when you pulled back, he leaned and rested his side against the car “so... what do you want to do?” he asked. “go somewhere? i can take you home."

you chewed on your lip. “sure, you can take me home, if that’s easier.”

if he was anyone else, he would've taken your answer at face value. but then his eyes drifted over you, your dress, your hair. you'd spent all this time getting ready, it shouldn't all be for nothing

"actually,” he corrected. “why don't we go somewhere?"

"yeah?" you smiled.

"yeah." he signaled toward the passenger side with a tilt of his head, guiding you over. you expression was brighter as he opened the passenger door for you. 

you were already settled intot he passenger seat by the time he realized it was as far back as it is.

jermajesty had been riding shotgun earlier with his legs stretched all the way out, and jaafar had completely forgotten to adjust the seat back to its usual position — or more like your preferred position.

he rested one hand on the roof of the car and ducked his head in, leaning right over your lap to reach down. his knuckles brushed against the side of your thigh as he pressed the little switch on the side of the seat, sending it humming smoothly forward along its track.

“sorry,” he murmured. “forgot to move it back for you.”

the seat hummed softly as it adjusted, and jaafar did mean to look up at you. but as he raised his gaze — from the button on the side of the seat, to where you were sitting, with your leg resting just a few inches from his hand — his eyes caught on your thigh.

but before he could stop himself, his gaze lingered. the hem of your dress had ridden up just enough to leave the smooth curve of your upper thigh bare.

god, that dress.

you put this dress on for him? for some random guy who didn't even care to look at you? the thought made his jaw lock so tight his back teeth ached. some idiot who wouldn't spend a dime on you, who wouldn't even think to buy you all the pretty dresses you wanted, got to sit across from you looking like this. got to look at you done up so sweet, when he didn't deserve to even be in the same room as you.

“i could’ve moved the seat myself, jaafar.” you laughed, completely oblivious to his glance, and thankfully, to all the nasty thoughts running wild in his head. “i know how to press a button.”

he was still trying to recover from that glance, barely even noticing that he’d adjusted the seat more than enough. in fact, you were now face to face, and he was looking you dead in the eyes. his mind was still on that dress. that dress on you, and that smile on your face, and that perfume filling his head, dizzying him.

you cocked your head to the side. “but it is kinda nice, though. getting taken care of.”

taken care of.

you really shouldn’t have said that, because something was now flashing through his head that he absolutely shouldn’t be thinking about; laying you down, shoving your pretty little sundress up, kneeling between your legs, your thighs shaking on his shoulders as his fingers grazed over your skin.

taking care of you and treating you right, the way you should be.

your fingers tangled and tugging at his hair, his tongue on your—

“jaafar?” your eyes were locked on his. “hello? did you just zone out?”

he pulled back when he broke out of his daze.

“sorry,” he said quickly, “i was just thinking—” about things he shouldn’t have, looking at places he shouldn’t have. “—some things i have to do this week.”

horrible excuse, but it was the best he could do.

he shut the door.

“i think it’s nice that you always open doors for me. there are like… no gentlemen left nowadays.”

gentlemen? fuck.

if he were actually a gentleman, he wouldn’t have been looking at you like that.

“opening doors is the bare minimum.”

“mm, well at least one guy gets it.”

but what about all the other guys, though? the guys who did next to nothing and called it enough, the ones who didn't even think about doing the bare minimum for you — why were you wasting your time on men who didn’t even care enough to see what they had right in front of them?

but that wasn't any of his business, though. just like it wasn't any of his business what you looked like beneath your dress. he'd crossed a line looking at you the way he did. he shouldn't have been imagining any of that.

and he definitely had no business calling your name right then.

you glanced up at him like through the rolled-down window.

“you look really good,” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”

a soft smile touched your lips. “you think so?”

“yeah.” of course he did. he’d always thought you were. but he wasn’t going say it out loud — he knew better.

what he needed to do was shake off whatever the hell those fantasies were — where’d they even come from? that was never the nature of your relationship, and it never would be.

you dont see him that way anyway.

the worst part about all of it was that he knew exactly how you viewed him. a friend. and even knowing that, he still had that filth run through his mind.

pervert.

“thank you, j.”

“‘course.”

he walked over to the driver's side of the car, fighting the dull ache twisting in his gut before sliding behind the wheel.

“so where are we going?” you asked, fiddling with the ac to how you want it.

"where do you want to go?” he asked softly.

"... can we go to the lake?"

it felt like forever since he was here with you last.

back before work and filming and life got too hectic for the two of you to make the long drive out.

yet here you were again, staring through the glass at the moonlit ripple of the lake. the place hadn't shifted a bit; completely untouched by time. standing so still, it felt like stepping back into an old memory.

there was a time when this turn-off belonged only to the two of you. it started years back, on a night you’d broken down in tears crying — something you almost never did. you’d told him you just wished you could get out for a bit, get some fresh air, and within minutes, his car was parked down the street from your house.

he watched you sneak out the back door, carefully avoiding the creaky steps so you wouldn't wake your parents. any trace of your tears had vanished the second you made it into his passenger seat, giddy from the excitement of sneaking out in the middle of the night. you’d told him to hurry up and drive before anyone noticed, telling him to take you somewhere far away.

and this was where he took you.

after that night, it became your go-to spot. whenever life got too overwhelming, or you just needed to disappear for a while, he’d pull up without a word and take you on the drive out to the water, sitting there with you for as many hours as you needed.

jaafar missed it.

a cool night breeze swayed the dark trees along the bank, rustling the leaves as the moonlight poured over the dashboard. the rolled down windows let the soft summer breeze in.

"we used to come here a lot," you murmured softly.

jaafar turned his head to look at you. the glow of the moon lit up your profile, softening your features and turning your eyes into dark pools that caught the faint light.

"yeah," he said, his voice quiet. "all the time."

you laughed. "i was always going through it back then. and you were always bringing me out here whenever i needed it."

"things were hard back then," he replied, watching you closely. "but they're better now, aren't they?"

you went quiet for a beat, staring out at the water as your smile slowly faded into something softer, a look on your face he couldn't quite read.

"yeah," you whispered. "but it's because of you. you always took care of me."

"i'll always take care of you," he said firmly, not missing a beat.

you looked away for a second, your fingers tangling together in your lap as you took a slow breath. "jaafar—"

before you could finish, a heavy crack of summer thunder rattled the car, followed by the pounding of rain against the windshield.

jaafar rolled the windows back up, the sound of the rain muffling behind it. he turned the ac on high and watched the fog on the windshield spread.

he was about to ask you what you were saying but your phone chimed.

his eyes flickered down to your phone, a sudden urge to ask if it was him.

but it wasn’t any of his business. so he lay his head back on the headrest, fiddling with the material of his sweatpants as you checked your phone. 

turns out, he didn’t need to ask.

“what an asshole,” you muttered. “no way he expects a second date after that.”

jaafar let out an exhale. “he texted you?”

“yeah,” you sighed, holding the screen toward him. “he’s asking if i'm down for ‘round two.’ can you believe this guy?”

jaafar didn’t touch the phone, his eyes sweeping over the notification, shaking his head.

your phone chimed again.

you both look down at your phone screen at the same time.

maybe you can come over to my place this time

wyd now? are you in bed already?

jaafar clenched his jaw, prying his eyes away from your phone. 

“he’s asking if im in bed?” you mused. “how much do you wanna bet he’s gonna ask for nudes after all that.”

you were laughing, and he had his jaw clenched. 

“don’t text him back.” it came out a bit rougher than he would’ve liked.

“you’re giving me orders now?” you snorted. “what are you, my dad?”

jaafar sighed, his eyes closing. “sorry.”

he knew he was being too intense, but he didn’t know what had gotten into him tonight. 

“is something bothering you, j?”

he inhales deeply. “i don’t know.” he said. “‘s just…”

he rolled his head on the headrest to meet your eyes. you looked at him, expectantly — almost needy and he felt his throat tighten. he would give you anything in the world, give you whatever you need. care for you, protect you, and keep you—

but you were not his.

so jaafar chose his next words carefully.

“if you’re not getting what you deserve,” he said. “then drop him.”

he didn’t want to sound too harsh. “it’s up to you, but i just don’t like seeing you hurt. that’s all.”

your eyes softened. “i’m not texting him back.” you said. “wasn’t going to. he’s an asshole.”

he couldn’t help but feel relieved. 

you watched as his fingers moved over his sweatpants. he had a habit of doing that. 

he was gentle in everything he did — always had been, at least with you. he’d only ever treated you gently. but tonight felt different. he felt different.

you don’t know why you couldn’t stop looking at them. you couldn’t stop the feeling building in the pit of your stomach that intensified when you imagined him touching you with the same purpose.

you knew he’d be so good at it. jaafar was eager to please, eager to give — he always knew what to do.

he looked out through the rain-streaked windshield, a sliver of his tongue slipping out to trace his bottom lip before he bit down on it.

you imagined it on you, him running his tongue up your body.

the bite of his words from earlier still echoed in your head — don't text him back. drop him — he’d always been protective of you — that wasn't anything new. but again, it felt different. 

“what is it?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

you were leaning closer now, resting your arm over the center console, oblivious to the way the thin strap of your dress slipped slightly down your shoulder.

his eyes flickered down for a second, his gaze wandering over your falling neckline, taking in the soft dip of your cleavage and the faint, lacy outline of your bra. before his thoughts could go any further, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, his throat working as he swallowed. 

“can i admit something to you, jaafar?”

“anything,” he said smoothly.

“when i was younger, i used to think all guys would be a little like you. caring and… selfless.” you paused, huffing out a laugh. “but i found out most of them are the opposite.”

“what do you mean?”

“some guys are just selfish. and some only want you for one thing.”

he was quiet for a second.

“i shouldn’t have let you set the standard,” you murmured, a faint smile on your face. “you gave them way too much to live up to.”

set the standard?

jaafar glanced at you as thunder rolled above, but you were looking out through the windshield again, your face unreadable.

“there have to be some good guys out there,” he murmured softly. “they can’t all be bad.”

that made you laugh.

“oh, it’s all bad.” you turned back to face him, propping your chin on your hand. “i mean, i’ve told you pretty much everything. but i never told you what a mess these guys are in bed, did i? they take selfish to a whole new level.”

in bed? 

jaafar felt his mouth go dry, another image surfacing in his head, but one that put a pit in his stomach — someone else’s hands on you.

his jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. “oh. really?”

god, he wasn’t any better than them. here he was, secretly fantasizing about you while you sat right beside him, trusting him with your heart.

“really,” you studied him with a curious look on your face. "you wanna know all the dirty details?”

he was torn — stuck between not wanting to picture another soul touching you and needing to know every single thing that fell short. he needed to know where they failed, everything that wasn't enough, just so he could fix it for you. so he could make it up to you.

but above all else, he pushed those feelings down. when he told you that you could tell him anything, he meant it.

“we can talk it out.” he finally said.

“okay.”

and just like that, you were slouching forward over the console, leaning into his space just like old times — back when you’d bring him all the hot gossip from your friends. you trusted him implicitly, confiding in him the way you always had.

“jaafar…”

you pursed your lips, a subtle, conspiratorial smile playing on your mouth. for a second, the closeness of you was dizzying.

“... none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum before.” 

fuck.

“not a single one.”

there was a pressure in his chest, and he didn’t know what it was from. he didn’t even know what was suffocating him more — the sickening thought of another guy trying, the fact that every single one of them had failed and left you unsatisfied, or the realization that he knew he could do better. he’d been dying to see what you looked like when you were undone, dying to be the one to give it to you.

“really?” he breathed out, his voice barely a murmur.

“really,” you said, a faint smile touching your lips. “i always have to take care of myself.”

he had to swallow hard to keep from sputtering out. god.

“maybe it’s because… you don’t really know them?” he muttered, looking away toward the window. a dry, awkward laugh escaped him. he didn’t even know what the fuck he was saying anymore. “like… you just met them?”

“what are you saying, j?” you asked, your tone dipping a bit critical. “i should go for someone i know instead?”

his heart dropped. he didn’t mean it like that. now he’d made it sound like he was putting his own name in the running, and he’d never do that.

“‘m not saying that.” his words were careful. “just… you deserve someone who treats you well. better than that.”

you pushed. “better? what does that look like to you?” 

jaafar let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “what does it matter what it looks like to me?”

“because,” you scoffed. “i trust your judgement on guys. why are you being so shy with your opinion all of a sudden?"

he was taken aback by the tone of your words. he didn’t get why you were digging so hard, why you wanted to know so badly. 

what was better anyway? there was better, there was good enough, and in his mind, none of those were the same thing. none of it came close to what you deserved

“at the bare minimum,” jaafar finally said. “someone who’d appreciate you. someone who appreciates your time, and doesn't pull bullshit like your date did tonight.”

“and what if i haven’t found that?” you murmured.

“you will,” he said softly. “there are a lot of guys who’d jump at the chance to treat you right. you’re—” 

he cut himself off.

you were watching him so intently, clinging on to every word.

“i’m what?”

there were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he couldn’t.

he laughed humourlessly. “because you’re you,” —because you’re everything a person could want— “and you deserve someone who…”

he trailed off, trying to place the look on your face.

“go ahead, tell me.” you pushed. “you’re the expert right? you get to size up every guy who even looks at me. no one’s ever been good enough for you. aren’t you dying for the chance to tell me exactly who i need?”

he laughed, frustration rolling over him. he didn't even know what this was anymore. a conversation? an argument?

“i'm listening.”

his eyes scanned over your face. “you need a guy who’s good for you.” the words were in his voice, but they felt completely unfamiliar. “he should treat you right. be there when you need him. he should be attentive, show up for you, appreciate you. always tell you how pretty you are. he should be taking care of you... meeting all your needs with no questions—or excuses—you know how tired i am of hearing excuses? you need someone who'd give you everything—”

"so someone like you?" you were staring at him, head titled. and he knew he fucked it all up. he said way too much.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, running a hand over his mouth. “really, i don’t know what i’m...”

your expression melted. the rain beat on the roof of the car as you shook your head slowly.

"since when is caring something you have to apologize for?"

“it's not my place,” he said, voice low.

you sighed softly, your eyes flickering all over his face. you leaned in closer.

"jaafar... what if i did want someone like you?"

he froze in place, his breathing quickening.

"…you keep saying i deserve someone who treats me right," you said quietly. "someone who shows up. someone who actually cares."

you don't even remember how the distance between you guys shrunk, but he was so close now — too close. close enough that you could count the lashes framing his eyes.

his face was just a few inches from yours. your chest was leaning right over the center console, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you.

your voice was so quiet, your nose brushing over his.

“‘m sorry i didn’t see it before, jaafar. i was looking for that person for so long. spent so much time trying to find what felt right.” you held his gaze. “the only time it ever did… was with you.”

his head was spinning, skin tingling. was he dreaming?

“did i misread things?” you breathed, your lips almost touching. “do you not feel the same way?”

“please tell me you’re serious.” he sounded borderline desperate. but he didn’t care.

“i’m dead serious,” you whispered.

“i want you,” he started. “so much. in all the ways i shouldn’t, and it’s killing me.”

“you can have me in any way you want.”

he said your name, and it came out helpless.

instead of saying anything else, he pulled you forward, closing the gap. 

he finally tasted you, felt you, his skin buzzing at every point where it was touching you. he parted your lips with his, and you opened for him like a flower.

you let him in, let him have you.

you let him devour you and taste all his feelings reciprocated on your tongue.

you let out a gasp into his mouth, and it made him dizzy.

“i want you. so badly.” your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed through him all the same. 

he wasn’t expecting you to touch him. he was so hard already. he’d been hard for you, so sensitive to every movement of your hands on him.

“i need you” you breathed.

he pulled back, breathing hard. “are you sure?"

“’m so sure. i need you right now.”

he’d give you anything you need.

you deserved everything. so many things that for a second he didn’t know where to start. but then you were moaning softly in his mouth, so responsive to his touch.

your confession echoed in his mind.

none of the guys i’ve been with have ever made me cum before.

and so he ran his fingers up your thigh, fingers trailing up your skin.

his hands seemed to grasp everywhere at once, his mouth hungry on yours as your tongues moved together. every kiss carried need. he gave your thigh a soft squeeze, a light touch claiming every inch of skin.

his fingers moved higher and higher until he was playing with the lower hem of your dress.

you knotted your fingers into his hair — it was soft to the touch. your skin grew more sensitive with every moment, his hand stalling on your upper thigh as his thumb rubbed near its apex. he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down your jaw and down your neck.

oh—

your gasp devolved into a shudder as he licked up your throat, his tongue hot on your skin at the exact same time his hand slipped slowly under your dress.

it left goosebumps all over your neck and thighs, your back arching off the leather seat as your legs spread slightly.

"jaafar—" you gasped.

"yeah, baby?" he slurred against your pulse.

"want to be closer," you breathed, hips twitching instinctively against his touch. "'need you."

"c'mere."

his large hand spanned around your waist, using his strength to pull you straight toward him over the center console.

you straddled his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as his fingers gripped your hips tight. you were so close now — you could feel him pressing firm through the fabric of his sweatpants. the warmth of his lap under your bare thighs sent butterflies wild in your stomach.

he was big. with his height, you probably should’ve guessed.

jaafar’s eyes roamed over you, greedy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of you.

"look at you," he said softly.

the look on his face was pure awe and reverence, and it made you bashful under his gaze.

"you can look," you laughed shakily, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried to cover your face. "but not for long."

"why not?" he murmured, a faint, lopsided smile touching his lips as he gently caught your wrists, pulling your hands away so he could see you again.

"’cause... it's embarrassing," you whispered, biting your lip.

“i’d look at you all day if you let me. never seen anything better.”

"stop." you tried to look away, but his hand came up, warm fingers gently cupping your jaw, bringing your face back to his.

"you're too sweet to me," you murmured softly.

"you deserve it," he smiled softly, his eyes brimming with so much sincerity it almost made your chest ache. "i hope you know you deserve the world."

"you mean it?" your breath caught when his large hand squeezed your hip softly over the thin fabric of your dress.

"i do," he said. his fingers idled at the middle of your back, slowly tracing up your spine until they wrapped around the nape of your neck, his touch sending a shiver straight down your length. he pulled your face gently down to his, your lips almost touching, his hot breath fanning across your mouth. "y'know what else you deserve?"

"what?" you breathed, your pulse racing in your ears.

"let me show you."

he kissed you deeper, instantly turning hungry. you cradled his face, feeling him squeeze your waist with both hands. he pulled you down against him, once, just so your weight pressed right down on the hard shape of his dick. it made him shudder.

you resisted the urge to grind over him, but you were so wet already, making a mess over the front of his sweatpants.

"you deserve someone who knows just how to touch you, baby," he murmured against your mouth, his lips brushing yours with every word.

"and how's that?" you asked, your heart hammering against your ribs.

"slowly."

his hands ran lazily down your hips, the heat of his palms bleeding through your dress. long, smooth fingers lazed over the skin of your thighs, unhurried and attentive.

"gentle, at first..." his voice was so low and quiet.

you were focused on his hands as they grazed further up your thighs, slipping easily under the hem of your dress to lift the fabric. you grasped at the front of his shirt, gasping at the size of his hands as they gripped your bare skin, his thumb resting at the front of your hip while his palm spanned around to rest just above your ass.

"'til you're ready for more."

he was so hard under your thigh, the thick length of him pulsing with heat — so much pre-cum at the tip that it was already starting to seep through his pants.

"want more," you begged.

"i know, baby," he whispered, trailing a kiss from the corner of your mouth down to the sensitive skin under your jaw. "you know 'm gonna give it to you."

his gaze dropped, eyes fixed on your chest as he lifted your dress up and off. "you deserve someone who'll give you everything you want."

your legs spread around him, straddling his lap in just your bra and panties — a little lacy set you’d put on for someone else. but you wouldn't have anyone else take it off you now.

you didn't have to ask if he liked it; you felt the response in his dick, twitching underneath you. his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "you're so perfect."

your breath caught when his hands cupped your tits lightly. you squirmed on his lap.

"that feel good?" he whispered.

all you could do was nod.

"good," he murmured, brushing his thumb over your nipples through the lace of your bra. "you deserve someone who can make you feel good."

it was better than good. his touch on your skin, his big hands gripping your tits, long fingers tweaking your nipples through the lace.

he had you pleading his name, so needy for him that you couldn't help but lean forward and pull him into a sloppy kiss.

but that wasn't enough either.

even with your tongues tangled together and his dick straining harder up against you, you were dying for more, desperate to be closer.

you ground down on his lap, pressing your weight into the bulge in his pants. he was so hard under your pussy, so big it made you whimper.

"i know," he said between kisses. "i know."

jaafar pressed his fingers lightly into your skin and gripped your hips, guiding you back and forth over his dick so you could get the friction you needed. slow and easy, he rocked you on his lap until your panties were soaked through.

"i know how bad you want it... an' you deserve it..." he said softly.

his mouth left yours, adjusting as he sank back into the leather to elevate you on his lap. he brought you up as he trailed kisses down your jaw and down your throat. you were higher up, and he was lower down, kissing over your collarbones before pausing.

"you deserve someone who’ll give it to you... at the right time, baby..." he murmured into your skin, his voice low and muffled as he reached the level of your chest, scattering kisses just above the lace of your bra 

he licked and sucked your skin, making it tingle. you carded your fingers through his soft hair, chills shooting down your spine. his fingers slid up your thighs slowly.

"...and for exactly how long..."

his fingers moved inward, languid as they reached the apex of your inner thighs and brushed over the hem of your panties.

"...because it would be so mean to make you wait too long, wouldn’t it?"

he wrapped one arm around your waist to steady you, resting his hand on your side — his fingers splaying wide over your skin, greedy — while he touched you with the other.

your mind lifted, as if floating into a fog, intoxicated by his touch. they made your eyes heavy, clouding your head so you heard his sweet words as if in a daze.

"you deserve someone who..." his voice dropped, his touch a little heavier as he ran his hand slowly over the lace of your panties.

"...knows how to tease, how to make you wait..."

his fingers brushed over your clit, and you gasped, shuddering.

"...but not for too long..." you heard the strain in his voice as he rubbed over the soaked fabric under your entrance. you felt his dick growing under your ass, getting harder.

"...just long enough to get this little pussy nice and wet, baby."

while he rubbed circles over your clit, the hand on your side moved down until you felt his big grip on your ass. moaning softly, you watched through foggy eyes as he craned his neck to kiss your tits through the lace of your bra — light kisses through the fabric, just one tease after another. but as soon as you started to whine, he gave you his tongue, running it over the fabric, swirling it over your hardening nipples, and flicking it. even through the barrier, it made you shudder as much as the wetness and heat of his mouth.

the heat intensified when he started to suck on your tits through the lace; it got hotter when he grazed his teeth over your nipples, hottest when he bit down gently. he was careful with his teeth, but you were so sensitive that each bite made you squirm. coupled with the desire growing inside you, you were dying to be skin to skin, hating the barrier between you.

"so wet for me," he slurred between soft sucks and bites to your tits. "so good for me, such a good girl. you know what a good girl like you deserves?"

"tell me," you breathed.

"someone who knows how to get you ready."

he pressed his fingers to your swollen clit and gave you enough pressure to build that heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. it sent another rush of arousal between your thighs, making everything puffier and wetter.

you were more than ready; you were desperate.

"you need someone who preps you right—" his fingers skimmed right to the hem of your panties.

"—'cause then..." he slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties, letting them linger there for a beat as he looked up at you. his mouth was swollen from sucking at your chest, his cheeks flushed as he licked his lips.

your heart hammered in your chest.

"... when they really touch you..." he hooked his fingers over the damp fabric covering your pussy and pulled your panties to the side.

"...it’s gonna feel so much better for you, baby." his fingers brushed over your slit.

and you shuddered. he was right. it did feel much better.

you should’ve known he’d do it better. jaafar had always shown you how things were supposed to be done. after all these years, after everything, you should’ve known he’d be the only one to do it right.

he’d worked your body so thoroughly, had you dripping wet, and he’d barely even touched you. you’d never been this wet. you were worked up, so sensitive that just the feeling of his fingertips brushing over your pussy made you drip.

"jaafar, please—" you couldn’t remember a time you’d ever needed it enough to beg.

he licked his fingers, cleaning your wetness off them, just to get them wetter with a glob of spit. softly, he brought his hand back between your thighs.

"c’mon, baby. you don’t ever have to beg me. jus’ tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you."

"keep going," you gasped.

"what you need..." he hummed, his voice soft. his eyes, half-lidded as they settled on your face, watching you as he smeared his the slickness over your pussy. "what you need is someone who knows when you’re ready to take it."

and you were. the second he pressed against your entrance, your pussy opened for him, stretching around him for the very first time.

"someone who knows when you’re dying for it..." his voice was warm against your skin your head went foggy, dropping forward as he pushed into you. your noses brushed together, eyes still watching you so intently. he pushed deeper, the air muffled with your pleasured gasps. "...so they can give you that relief you need."

"and when they finally slip into this pretty pussy..."

with his mouth against your jaw, he sank one finger all the way into you, slow and easy. you shuddered when he buried it to the base, your walls clenching around him.

"...you’re already gonna be so worked up..."

you trembled, fingers entangling in his hair as he pumped his finger in and out of you, aching for more of him, wanting him deeper.

"...and you’ll already be so wet, so needy..."

you whimpered his name as he pulled back, craving the stretch of him like nothing else mattered.

"...that when they give you more..."

he slipped another finger in, stretching you out around two. he gave them to you all the way, letting you take them to the knuckle, letting you feel the warm skin of his hand pressed up against your entrance for a second before he fucked them into you. he curled them forward so your soft moans and all the sticky, wet sounds joined the rain beating outside.

"...you’ll already be so close. won’t you, baby?"

he was right. you were so close, gasping “yes, yes,” dripping down his knuckles while that knot in your lower stomach tightened. 

"but the most important thing," he slurred, your thick arousal dripping down his fingers, each movement filling the car with wet noises, "is that they’re willing to learn what spots make you feel best. right here, sweetheart?"

his fingers pressed deeper, curling into a spot that felt good.

you gasped, "y-yeah—"

then he adjusted, saying, "or there?"

he angled his hand, pressing into a spot that felt even better. it felt so good that it drew out a burst of wetness, making your pussy clamp down on him suddenly, and his cock pulsed underneath you in response. he moved his fingers again, curled them a little harder, and fucked more wetness out of you.

"right there makes you squirt? that feel good, baby?" he groaned.

he stuck to that spot, fucking another short burst out of you that made your thighs shake. he coaxed you the whole time, cooing as you told him how close you were to cumming for him, how good he gave it to you.

“yeah? you want more?" he asked sweetly — but he was already giving it to you, working over that little sweet spot deep in your pussy, again and again, watching you try not to fall apart. you were so close, and he pressed his thumb to your aching clit, rubbing it as he fingerfucked you.

"do you get it yet?"

you couldn’t manage an answer, just a few jumbled words cut off by heightening moans.

"you need somebody who knows how to make this pussy cum."

your thighs trembled around his, your toes curling — you grabbed at his hair, pulled him into a kiss, and into your mouth 

"you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?" he asked lazily.

"yeah, yes, yes," you gasped.

"i know you need to cum badly, i can feel it. let it go, baby."

one simple instruction. just like that, you spilled over, doing exactly as he said. this was how he rewarded you — encouraging you as the tension snapped, letting you cum for the first time on fingers that weren’t your own. they were longer, better, drenched and fucking you through your orgasm as pleasure rolled through you in waves.

you slumped forward with the last wave, catching your breath against his chest, feeling its slow and steady rise and fall. in the hollow of his chest, you heard the low hum of his voice, reassurances murmured to ease you down as you closed your eyes. you felt his arms wrapped tight around you, his large hands on your skin — squeezing your neck gently, rubbing your back, keeping you safe. 

“was that okay?” he asked softly.

"that was perfect." you shifted on his lap, grinding your hips forward right into the hard length of his dick.

jaafar let out a low groan, his head rolling back against the leather headrest. "fuck..." he murmured your name, his voice desperate.

you knew how badly he wanted it. it was obvious, especially when you dropped your eyes down to his crotch, watching the outline of his dick tenting the fabric of his sweatpants.

but when he brought his head back down to look at you, there was a hesitance in his eyes, bordering on guilt.

“i don’t have a condom on me,” he said softly, his thumbs stroking your hips carefully. “i’m sorry, baby, i didn’t expect—”

you shook your head before he could finish. “’s okay. i would’ve told you not to wear one anyway.”

he murmured your name again, his brow furrowing like he was trying to talk you out of it, trying to be the responsible one. but you already knew he was going to fuck you. he’d do anything for you, give you whatever you asked for.

“when you put it in,” you whispered, holding his gaze, “i want to feel all of you.”

jaafar cursed under his breath.

“are you sure?” he asked, searching your face, but you could already feel his dick twitching and swelling beneath you at the thought of taking you raw. his body was giving him away.

“i’m sure.” you said as you tugged his shirt up. 

jaafar reached up to help you, lifting his arms so you could pull the fabric over his head and toss it onto the back seat.

as your eyes adjusted to him, your breath caught in your throat. he’d been working out consistently for his role — putting in endless hours to get into shape and build stamina — and it was showing in every line of his body. his shoulders were broad, his torso cut and defined, with lean, smooth muscle stretching tight over his ribs and chest.

you reached out, pressing your hands to the center of his stomach and slowly rubbing up his torso, feeling the heat of his skin.

you traced up over his chest, feeling his heart pounding against your palms, before letting your fingers drag back down.

"you got so strong," you murmured, staring at him in awe.

jaafar stayed still under your touch, eyes heavy and fixed on your face as you admired him.

"you know," you added with a soft laugh, "there was probably a point in our lives where i could've taken you in a fight."

a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "you really think you could take me?"

it didn't sound like he was talking about a fight anymore.

the heat of his quiet voice on your skin, combined with the slight jerk of his dick in his pants — still so hard, pressed tight between his body and yours — sent a wrenching heat straight through your stomach.

"could i take you...?" you breathed.

you reached down between your bodies, grazing your fingers over the bulge against his thigh, tracing all the way down the long, thick length of it through his sweatpants.

probably not.

"i don't know, j." a firm squeeze to his dick through the fabric had his breath catching hard in his throat, his jaw clenching as a needy look filled his eyes. "but i'm dying to find out."

you felt his dick respond as he leveled himself in front of you.

"are you sure?" he rasped.

“never been more sure. i want this so bad, you don’t even know.”

“okay, sweetface,” he said softly, before placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose.

you pouted, crinkling your nose up at the nickname. “don’t call me that.”

“why not?” he teased, his face breaking into a lazy smile as he moved his body slowly over yours, rubbing his hard dick right against you. “you don’t like it when i call you names?”

“n-not like that,” you laughed shakily, spreading your thighs wider so he could get closer. “not that.”

with the same teasing tone, his thrusts getting a little harder, his dick more persistent against you, he murmured, “what kind of names do you like, then?”

he dropped his head down, breath fanning over your throat with each word, his hair tickling your skin. “baby?”

“y-yeah...”

“yeah?” he slurred, trailing kisses up the column of your neck, over your hammering pulse. he paused right under your ear, his lips lingering on your hot skin. “you like angel?”

your stomach went instantly into knots. “yes, j.”

he placed a soft kiss right below your ear.

“princess?”

“yeah, yes.”

he nipped your earlobe, thrusting his hips again, pressing the thick length of him hard against your body.

“and what about good girl?” he asked softly against your ear.

you gasped and pulled on his hair, overwhelmed by it all — the feeling of his weight on you, the way he was grinding his cock against you, his low, breathy voice, and those words dripping from his lips.

“that’s what you like,” he said, and it wasn't a question. “you wanna be a good girl for me, i know you do.”

he trailed light kisses over your skin — up from your jaw, to your cheek, to your lips.

then he looked down at you, his eyes low when he said, “that’s why you keep cumming so easily for me, isn’t it?”

you bit your lip, unable to find your voice, but still gave him one small nod.

“now if you want to be even better for me, baby,” he whispered, his hands gripping your hips tight as he lined himself up, “you’re gonna cum all over my dick.”

you could barely get an affirmation out before you couldn’t take the waiting anymore. you knotted your hands up in his hair and pulled him into a sloppy, desperate kiss.

this time you could feel the firmness of his body on yours, the heat of his skin, his burning hot fingers on your bra clasp. a quick movement that made your bra pop free.

you pulled it off as soon as it was undone, dropping it off the seat while his tongue was still in your mouth.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him flush against you. a groan slipped out of his mouth, caught up in yours as his weight pressed you down into the leather  —  his chest on your tits, his dick hard against your pussy, separated from you by just the soaked fabric of his sweatpants and your thong.

“fuck, baby,” he sighed, rocking his hips, dragging his clothed bulge back and forth over your clit so slowly while you murmured his name, telling him how good he made you feel, how wet he got you. you let him tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, whining for more.

“tell me what you want,” he coaxed sweetly between thrusts. “want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”

"fuck me… i wanna feel you so deep in me—" it all spilled out of your mouth in a stupor.

“y’know i’m gonna give you anything you want, don’t you?”

“you’re gonna take care of me?” you shuddered.

his reply was a low murmur against your neck. “don’t i always?”

his big hands travelled over your skin, his long fingers hooking over the sides of your panties, easing them slowly downward. he slipped them off you and looked down cloudily, his eyes grazing over every inch of bare skin.

“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this,” he said softly.

you breathed his name, tracing your hands down his abdomen, over the light sheen of sweat on his skin. you reached down to palm the hard outline of his dick through his pants, hearing him breathe shakily as you pulled his zipper down.

you pulled his sweatpants and boxers down together, and he let you. he watched, inhaling through bared teeth, as you pulled his dick out and wrapped your fingers around it.

“you’re so big,” you murmured, met with a soft groan.

he was so hot, so hard, throbbing in your hand. he was already slick with precum, the slit of his dick oozing, smearing more onto your palm. but you were a bigger mess — your pussy dripping onto the seat beneath you as you spread your thighs wider around his hips, dying to take him.

“baby, baby,” he moaned softly, shuddering as you tightened your grip on his dick. gliding your palm back and forth, dragging his precum all the way down to the base and back up, you could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, getting him even stiffer.

eyelashes fluttering against his feverish face, his eyes tracked your hand as you stroked him. “look what you’re doing to me. feel how bad i want you?”

“are you gonna give it to me, jaafar?” you whined.

“so eager,” he hummed, fixing his eyes between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours. “i wanna take my time with you.”

he shifted beneath you, reaching past your hips to release the lever on the side of the seat. with a click, he leaned the seat back, moving you so that you were on the seat. he was hovering over you now, his heavy frame pressed between your thighs as he lowered his body over yours.

you hung onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin as he wrapped a hand around his dick, supporting the heavy weight of it in his palm as he positioned himself above you. with the tip over your pussy, he gave the shaft one slow stroke up from the base and watched his precum dribble onto your clit.

“i need you inside,” you gasped.

“can you even take the whole thing?” he asked so sweetly.

you didn’t know if you could, not with the size of him, but you wanted it so bad that you nodded anyway.

you saw him smile a little in the low light before he craned his neck down. “we’ll see.”

he pressed his dick to your pussy and slid all that wetness — his precum, your arousal — over it. he stimulated you over and over, until his breaths were coming fast and heavy, and you were whimpering about how good it felt.

“jaafar, please,” you begged. “i want more.”

“you’re so sweet for me; ‘course i’m gonna give you as much as you can take.” he tapped the head of his dick against your clit. not hard, but enough of a pleasurable jolt that you bucked your hips up, chasing the touch. “but first i want you to see how deep i can get.”

he laid the hot length of his dick on your pussy, letting the wetness on his shaft meet your skin. you were soaked with slick, glistening all over your thighs

 jaafar got it messier, sliding his dick over your cunt — back, then forward — stimulating your clit with the head each time he moved through your folds.

he stopped with his dick laid out on your stomach, heavy and throbbing.

“you’re gonna feel me in your stomach, baby.” he slurred.

“i want it,” you shuddered, pulling him into another kiss as he rubbed himself over you.

“i know you do, i know.”

he pulled back then, dropping his body down a little to position the tip of his dick against your fluttering entrance. you craved the stretch, gasping at the tail end of a kiss.

he lingered there — breath shaky and catching in his throat.

“okay, baby, okay,” he whispered as he pushed inside, just barely stretching your entrance around the tip.

you both moaned at the same time.

a little further in, the heat of him filled you, his dick stretching your walls open.

“oh, you’re so wet,” he groaned.

he was shuddering, and you were gasping, “you feel so good.”

he was so hard for you, so snug against your walls that you could feel his dick pulse as he pushed in deeper, his lazy voice dripping with euphoria, “so good for me, baby... feel good when i fuck you raw? are you getting what you wanted?”

“yes, yes... more.”

“so tight,” he murmured, and you clamped down around him, hearing him suck in a breath through his teeth. “y’have be careful squeezing me like that… might cum inside you. you know i shouldn’t do that.”

“but i want it.”

“yeah? you want me to fill you up. make me yours?” his breath caught as he pushed the throbbing length of his dick further in, filling you up deeper and deeper with what you’d been wanting so desperately. “you want me to fill you up, baby? wanna be my girl?” 

“yes, j,” you gasped, fingers knotting tight in his soft hair, pulling his mouth inches from yours. “i wanna be yours.”

each word was breathy, said with so much pleasure that it made your insides expand to accommodate more of him. one glance between your spread thighs — where he was lowering his lean weight as he sank his dick into your puffy, wet pussy — was enough to make your toes curl on the leather seats. watching him sink deeper was too much; you were unable to hold your soft moans in.

“you like watching me stretch it out, don’t you?”

you nodded with your lip caught between your teeth, unable to manage an answer, just a whine.

“jaafar,” you gasped, fingers knotting in his soft hair as you looked up into his dark eyes. “i want all of you.”

jaafar’s gaze softened, a heavy, tender warmth breaking through the haze of pleasure on his face. he leaned down, hovering just an inch over your lips, his hot breath fanning across your mouth as his hips kept a slow, agonizing grind against yours.

“you have me, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and rough with emotion. “all of me. i’m all yours.”

“yeah?” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“yeah,” he murmured, placing a lingering, desperate kiss on the corner of your mouth before sinking his dick just a fraction deeper. “always been yours.”

you forced your eyes open, watching him sink in a little more. he stopped short, not pushing all the way in yet; you were already so full, and the bottom of his thick shaft was still visible. he fucked you like this — giving you as much as you could take, making sure you adjusted to him.

“feels so good in you, baby.”

you were so tight, so sensitive that you could feel him throbbing in you. when he pulled his dick almost all the way out, you could see it twitch before he stroked your wetness down the shaft, telling you to look how wet you were getting him. he was all lubed up from your pussy, practically dripping, and when he pushed back inside to fuck you, he was even harder.

you could barely keep your eyes open to watch, your eyelashes fluttering as you whined for his dick. “so fucking good... i’m so close—”

“you wanna cum again?” he asked, fucking you a little faster, a little deeper. “keep your eyes open, be good and watch yourself make a mess on my dick.”

your body treated his words like a command. that craving for his control physical; your body so desperate for his guidance that as soon as he gave it, the knot in your stomach released with a rush of pleasure.

your mouth dropped open; you were cumming, digging your fingernails into his biceps and whimpering, trying to keep your heavy eyelids open so you could watch him fuck you, seeing your pussy drenching his shaft.

“that’s right, baby, there you go... see how good this pussy is for me, how wet it gets for me?” his strokes started to slow as your orgasm died down, but he was still fucking you through every contraction; filthy words on his tongue said so sweetly, “see how fast it cums for me? how many orgasms are you gonna let me fuck out of you, princess?”

“more,” you gasped. “more—”

“you’re gonna let me fuck more out of you, huh? you’re gonna let me give you everything you need?”

“yes, jaafar, yes.”

your pussy was so sensitive from cumming that the stimulation felt insane. you’d barely come down from your last orgasm, and somehow you were building up again. even though he was slowing down, you couldn’t stop that cresting feeling.

“cumming so much for me... i know you needed this so bad, baby.”

“i need it so much, j,” you whined. “i need you to keep going, please... i need you to fuck me harder. i think... i think i’m gonna—”

“already?” he groaned, fucking you harder, faster, slurring, “oh, fuck, i can feel it... gimme another, lemme feel you cum again.”

it was so good, each stroke getting you closer, but you were craving more, something deeper. “gimme the whole thing, jaafar, please.”

he swore under his breath, shaking his head, so much pleasure on his face. “i don't wanna overwhelm you.”

“please, j.”

“god,” he shuddered, slipping in a little deeper.

you watched him sink his dick in, your wetness coating the shaft further down. as he pushed all the way in, the head of his dick kissed right against your cervix — a deep, intense stretch that made you gasp, your toes curling around his waist.

he groaned, raw satisfaction making his voice hoarse, and pulled back slightly, breathing hard. “you okay, baby?”

“yes, yes, yes— it feels so good.”

“tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice thick with anticipation as he pushed inside, going deep. “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

you nodded, so much tension stored up in your quivering walls as he coaxed them open. you whined for more, wanting him deeper.

“you want me to give you the whole thing? yeah? you wanna take my dick deep?” he put a big hand on your stomach, pressing down on it as he pushed forward, coaxing, “oh, fuck, baby, you’re taking so much... doing so well for me... that’s a good girl, take it all the way.”

you took it all the way — right up against that sweet pressure, taking every single inch of him. you locked your legs around his waist, telling him with tears beading in your lashes, “you’re so big, ‘’m so close.”

he was getting so much gratification at the end of each stroke. he felt it in his catching breath, in his long fingers as they pressed into your lower stomach, feeling himself fucking you, feeling himself buried deep inside.

he pulled back for another stroke, thrusting back in, and you watched his face change as he got all the way in — his eyes flitting down to your pussy, his mouth dropping open slightly when he saw you taking him balls deep. eyebrows knit, he watched himself move in and out, his entire length coated in you.

“takin’ it so deep,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “no one’s ever...” he was overwhelmed, unable to finish his sentence, gritting his teeth as he pushed back in.

you were begging for it harder, getting fucked with his big hand on your stomach and that full feeling making your walls clench around his dick with every thrust. 

his mouth met your skin, kissing your jaw and cheek as he fucked you, his mouth kissing at your neck before he murmured, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“yeah— f-feels so good.”

“you want me to mark you up, baby? you want me to fuck you so deep, you feel it in the morning?”

you whined for it. “yes, yes, yes.”

it was building; all of it was getting sloppier, more needy — his thrusts, his words slurred against your throat, his breaths catching as you tangled your fingers into his hair and tightened your legs around his waist. his voice was so breathy with pleasure, so desperate for release, making your pussy clench up around him each time he murmured to you.

“i’ve been so close for so long, baby... you don’t even know how close i was earlier when i felt you cumming on me. almost had to pull out, i wanted to fill you up so bad.”

“i want you to fill me up,” you gasped.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he panted against your throat, fucking you hard enough to make the car rock with each thrust. desperation was in each breath; it was building up, and you were right on the edge too, your walls slick and quivering around his dick. “god, i need to... but you know i shouldn’t.”

“please, please...” there was a tremor in your voice, another wave threatening to wash over. “you said you’d give me anything i wanted.”

“fuck,” he murmured. “how am i supposed to say no to you?”

there was tension in the hot air, the windows fogged up with the warmth of your rocking bodies and desperate breaths. you were both so close, so sloppy  — spit on your lips, sweat on your skin, your moans heightening with each stroke.

“you really want my cum?” he asked, his voice raw.

“i need it,” you whined.

then he was groaning softly, your moans getting louder as he panted, “cum on me, baby... cum on me and i’ll fill this pretty pussy up, i’ll get you nice and full just like you want.”

that was all it took — just the promise of being full of his load, and you crashed over, gasping, “i’m— oh fuck—” the curve of his dick hit just right, splitting your convulsing walls open as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside.

“good girl, my good fucking girl,” he slurred as your walls gushed all over his dick, digging his fingers into your ass. “you deserve so much cum, baby—”

his lashes fluttered, his face dropping forward, and then he was half-panting, half-moaning against your jaw, his thrusts sloppy, his hips catching as his dick twitched inside you. you could feel every inch of him, every throb as your sensitive walls pulsed around him.

the warmth came in spurts, a growing fullness as he shot his warm load deep into you. it was pulled further inside with each contraction of your walls, but there was so much of it that as his strokes went lazy, it gushed out around his dick and dribbled down your skin.

he stayed deep until you were both done, and when he pulled out — looking down, breathing hard — his dick was glistening, a mess of your cum and his, a little white surge leaking from the tip and dripping onto your stomach.

he swore under his breath, his face hazy.

“look at you,” he murmured, eyes still on your pussy. “you’re so pretty, baby.”

his lips were on yours again. he placed a light kiss on the left corner of your mouth.

you looked over at him in the soft glow of the dashboard — the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth.

“i meant what i said, you know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “about being yours. it’s not just because of tonight. i’ve cared about you for way too long to ever let this be just a one-time thing.”

"yeah?" you squeezed his hand in yours, your thumb tracing the familiar lines of his knuckles.

"yeah."

you leaned up, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to his lips, feeling him immediately melt into it. when you pulled back, a teasing smile broke across your face as you looked at him.

“you know... i really didn't expect you to be such a dirty talker.”

a sheepish grin broke across his face. his chest rose and fell in a breathy laugh as a flush crept up his neck. "i don't know... you brought it out of me."

for years, you’d convinced yourself that love was supposed to be something you had to chase, something complicated that always left you feeling like you were settling for less than you deserved. you’d let other men touch you without ever really seeing you, leaving you wondering why it never felt the way it was supposed to.

but the truth was undeniable. it had always been him. the boy who knew every version of you, the friend who’d spent years quietly holding your world together, was the only one who could ever really have all of you.

jaafar brought your joined hands up to his lips, placing a tender kiss over your knuckles.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

once again, i got carried away </3

also ik i had more things listed in the cw in the ss i posted the other day but it was getting a bit too long.. don't be mad at me

i'll prob just write them into another fic :p

2025 los angeles

you couldn’t believe it when you got the email saying you had officially been cast on love is blind.

the entire thing had started as a joke. a few months ago, you and your friends had been tipsy during your latest girls' night, all of you crowded around the television watching yet another episode of love is blind. after surviving eight seasons of messy breakups, love triangles, dramatic altar speeches, and a handful of genuine love stories, someone had pulled up the casting application the moment they announced season 9 would be filmed in los angeles.

they'd practically shoved your phone into your hands and you remembered laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

dating in los angeles was exhausting anyway. every other profile belonged to someone who was trying to become the next big singer, actor, producer, or influencer, and somewhere along the way, it felt like genuine connection had started competing with personal branding. maybe that was just the type of men you kept attracting, or maybe your luck had simply been terrible.

either way, after another drink and enough encouragement from your friends, you'd shrugged and thought, what the hell? you filled out the application expecting absolutely nothing to come from it, and somehow... here you were.

standing in the women's living quarters where all of you would be staying throughout the pod portion of the experiment, you looked around at the other women filtering into conversations, introducing themselves, and trying to settle the same bundle of nerves you could feel sitting in your own chest.

the concept still felt surreal.

falling in love with someone you had never seen before wasn't how you'd ever imagined meeting your future husband. it sounded impossible when you said it out loud, yet there was something strangely hopeful about it too. for once, no one could make assumptions based on appearances before learning who you actually were.

you were nervous, but you were also willing to keep an open mind.

before long, conversations began flowing naturally between everyone. stories were exchanged about what had brought each of you here, and laughter spread around the room when you admitted your application had been the direct result of a drunk girls' night. the women laughed with you, but as funny as the story was, there was still some truth underneath it.

dating apps hadn't been working and meeting people organically somehow felt even harder, so why not try something completely different, even if it sounded a little ridiculous on paper?

a few moments later, vanessa lachey walked into the room, immediately greeting everyone with an excited smile before asking what each of you hoped to take away from this experience and what had motivated you to sign up.

the answers varied, but only slightly. everyone talked about how frustrating dating had become, how online dating felt shallow, how difficult it was finding people who were intentional, and how often first impressions stopped at physical attraction instead of ever reaching someone's actual personality.

when it was your turn, you smiled before speaking.

you explained that you genuinely loved the concept behind love is blind. you'd watched previous seasons, and while the experiment didn't always work, you thought there was something incredibly beautiful about two people falling in love by first building an emotional connection before ever laying eyes on one another.

you brought up lauren and cameron from season one as your favorite couple, pointing out that years later they were still happily together, and your answer earned warm smiles around the room, including one from vanessa herself.

afterward, she walked everyone through the process, even though most of you already knew it by heart.

for the next week, you'd be dating all fifteen of the men through the pods. as the days went on, connections would naturally narrow until, by the end of the experiment, you would either leave engaged or leave single.

however, if a proposal happened, you wouldn't actually meet your fiancé until after you'd accepted it.

from there, all of the engaged couples would travel together to cabo before returning to los angeles, where you'd spend four more weeks living together and planning your wedding before deciding at the altar whether to say "i do."

the room erupted into excited cheers and your heart somehow managed to race even faster.

"the pods are officially open,” vanessa says, and those words immediately sent another wave of nervous excitement through the room. you reached for the notebook waiting with your name neatly printed across the front and held it against your chest for a second before opening it.

you already knew that if you didn't write everything down, names, stories, and little details would blur together before the end of the first day.

your first few dates were okay, two guys named assad and shawn. they were funny, nice to talk to, and easy enough to hold a conversation with, but you could tell within the first ten minutes that you probably weren’t going to be walking out of the pods engaged to either of them.

there wasn’t anything wrong with either man, you just never felt that pull to keep digging deeper, and that was okay. you reminded yourself that not every date was supposed to end with fireworks, and ruling people out was just as important as finding the person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.

your third date was with a guy named daniel, and you immediately knew he wasn’t the one because he talked about himself for twenty straight minutes before remembering to ask a question about you.

by the time he finally did, you had already mentally crossed his name off your list, trying your best to stay engaged in the conversation while also wondering how someone could come on a show built around emotional connection and spend almost the entire date talking about themselves.

the rest of the dates kind of went by in a blur. by the end of the day, you had made a few connections that you knew you wanted to explore tomorrow, but no one had really stuck out to you yet. no one had left you walking out of a pod thinking, i really hope i get to talk to him again. taking a deep breath, you picked up your notebook before making your way into the familiar pod for your final date of the day.

on the other side of the wall, jermajesty was settling onto the couch for his last date of the day when he heard the door to your pod open. he instinctively turned toward the wall separating the two of you, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything beyond it.

he was exhausted after the nonstop conversations he’d had all day. there were a few girls he already knew he wanted to keep talking to, but nobody had really stood out to him yet in a way that made him think, i can actually see myself proposing to her. he was starting to wonder if maybe everyone else was feeling the same way after spending hours introducing themselves over and over again.

“hello?” jermajesty called out.

you had just settled onto the couch when his voice reached you, and you smiled to yourself almost immediately. it was nice, warm without trying too hard to be, and there was something about it that felt calming after a full day of conversations that had started blending together.

“hi,” you called back.

jermajesty found himself smiling before he even realized he was doing it. he reached for his notebook, scribbling the words ‘pretty voice’ into the margin as you introduced yourself. he quietly repeated your name to himself after you said it, liking the way it sounded.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you continued.

“i’m jermajesty, it’s nice to meet you, too,” he said, already bracing himself for whatever reaction his name was about to get. after hearing fifteen different variations of surprise throughout the day, he almost expected people to focus more on his name than the conversation itself.

“jermajesty? that’s unique… are you royalty? should i be bowing right now?” you teased.

he had actually heard that joke earlier from one of the other women, but for some reason it landed completely differently coming from you. instead of the polite chuckle he’d forced hours ago, he laughed, the sound coming naturally this time.

“i promise, i’m not a secret royal.” you both laughed together, and as the conversation settled into an easy rhythm, you found yourself writing down a few notes beside his name. “but you can call me maj,” he said.

the nickname surprised even him. he hadn’t offered it to anyone else today, but there was something about the ease of this conversation that made it feel natural, almost like he wanted to skip over the formality before it had a chance to settle in.

“i do like your name, i didn’t mean unique in a sarcastic way or anything,” you said, suddenly hoping he hadn’t taken it the wrong way.

jermajesty chuckled softly. “no, i know you didn’t… so i know we’ve been doing this all day. you gone deep with anybody yet?” he asked.

you laughed a little, relaxing further into the couch. “not too deep, but mainly surface level to start, what i do, favorite color, all that stuff.” the two of you laughed again, and neither of you noticed how much easier this conversation already felt compared to most of the others you’d had throughout the day.

“okay, i’m gonna start really deep, then… how old are you?” he asked.

you laughed again, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see it. “i’m 27.”

jermajesty smiled as he wrote that down in his notebook. “an older woman? i like it,” he said.

“older? how old are you?” you asked, both of you still laughing.

“i’m 25.” a smile spread across your face before you could stop it.

“at least your brain is fully developed,” you teased.

jermajesty let out a deep belly laugh that echoed through the pod, and hearing how genuine it was made you smile even wider. without thinking, you looked down at your notebook and added one more note beneath his name, love his laugh.

“if you asked my brothers they’d probably say differently,” he says and you both laugh again.

the conversation had settled into something neither of you had really experienced with anyone else that day. there wasn't any pressure to impress each other or scramble for the next question before the silence became awkward. every answer naturally seemed to lead into another, and with each laugh, it became a little easier to forget there was a wall separating the two of you.

“how many brothers do you have?” you ask.

“uh… i have 7 brothers and 3 sisters,” he says, and your eyes widen. you weren't sure what number you had been expecting, but it definitely hadn't been ten siblings.

“wow, big family,” you say, unable to hide the surprise in your voice, and jermajesty laughs to himself.

“did i scare you already?” he asks, hearing your reaction.

“no, not at all… well maybe a little, if we get engaged that’s a lot of family to meet,” you say, half teasing and half being completely honest.

jermajesty couldn't help laughing. somehow the thought of you already entertaining the possibility of meeting his family made something warm settle in his chest.

“well, half of my brothers are grown and live in different places… so out of the 7, there’s really 3 you’d have to meet, and my sisters, only 1 you’d have to meet,” he says. you let out a small breath of relief before you could stop yourself, thankful he couldn't see the amused expression spreading across your face.

“oh, okay, that’s not bad,” you say, earning another laugh from him.

“how about you? any siblings?” jermajesty asks.

“yeah, i have two younger siblings, teenage twins, a brother and sister.” jermajesty smiled as he wrote that down in his notebook. for some reason, the image immediately formed in his head of you as an older sister.

he didn't know what you looked like, but from the way you spoke and the patience that seemed woven into every answer you gave, he imagined you were probably the kind of sister your siblings went to whenever they needed advice or someone to vent to.

“i was the youngest, until a few years ago… it’s interesting being 25, and your youngest sibling is 2,” he says, and the two of you immediately start laughing again.

“hmm, that is quite a gap. my siblings are 12, so i guess we both have pretty big age gaps with our siblings,” you say.

jermajesty smiled to himself. “is this us bonding?” he teases.

“about how our parents probably should’ve stopped reproducing sooner? yeah,” you tease back.

your laughter echoed through both pods, filling the quiet space in a way that somehow made it feel less empty. when it eventually faded, neither of you rushed to fill the silence. it wasn't uncomfortable. if anything, it felt strangely peaceful, like you'd both unconsciously settled into the conversation instead of performing for it. you glanced down at your notebook for a moment before looking back toward the wall.

“tell me something about you nobody else knows.”

jermajesty leaned back against the couch, your question lingering in his mind longer than he expected. all day he'd answered the usual questions about hobbies, favorite foods, travel, and what he looked for in a partner, but nobody had asked him something that made him stop and actually think.

“hm… sometimes i feel like i’m struggling with imposter syndrome. everyone in my family does a lot of great things and i’m still trying to figure things out, but sometimes i feel really out of place, you know?”

your expression softened instantly. he couldn't see it, but he could hear the way your breathing slowed as you considered his answer, and it made him feel like you weren't simply waiting for your turn to speak. you were actually listening.

“yeah, i do… but it’s okay to still feel like you’re figuring things out… whoever said we had to have everything figured out by a certain age was a liar,” you say. jermajesty smiled to himself, something about your voice making the reassurance land in a way he hadn't expected from someone he'd only known for a single conversation.

“we’re still young, of course we’re still figuring things out,” you say. he bit down on his lip, staring quietly at the wall between you. it was such a simple thing to say, but for some reason it eased a pressure he'd been carrying around for longer than he cared to admit.

“what do you do for a living?” he asks. you laugh quietly, lifting your notebook in front of your face even though he couldn't see the embarrassed smile tugging at your lips.

“did i sound too cliché? i’m a therapist, but i work in inpatient residential… so high-crisis cases, like schizophrenia, personality disorders, severe suicidal ideation or self-harm, things like that,” you say.

jermajesty's eyes widened. he'd expected maybe a teacher, a nurse, something along those lines, but hearing what you actually did left him even more impressed. he couldn't imagine walking into work every day knowing people were depending on you during some of the hardest moments of their lives.

“wow… i bet your clients really love you… i can already sense how caring you are,” he says. you laugh, warmth spreading across your face at the sincerity in his voice.

“well, them loving me depends on the day, really,” you say, making both of you laugh again. “what about you? what do you do?” you ask.

“um… i work in producing… some with music, some with films, i’m still trying to find my footing,” he says. you nodded to yourself as you wrote that down.

producing sounded interesting, and if nothing else, it was refreshing. after enough dates with men who insisted they were one viral song away from becoming famous or spent entire conversations talking about the careers they hoped to have someday, there was something grounding about the way jermajesty talked about his work. he wasn't trying to impress you. if anything, he almost seemed hesitant to make it sound more important than it was, and somehow that made you even more curious to learn about him.

“so i take it your family is in the business? since imposter syndrome is something you’re dealing with?” you ask.

jermajesty chuckles to himself, his smile lingering as he looks down at the notebook resting in his lap. he hadn't expected you to piece that together so quickly, but there was something about the way you listened that made him realize you paid attention to the little details people let slip instead of just waiting for your turn to ask another question.

“yeah… something like that,” he says.

you laugh softly, sensing there was probably more to that answer than he was ready to share, but you didn't push. the experiment wasn't about learning everything about someone in a single conversation. it was about giving them enough space to tell you those things when they were ready, and something told you jermajesty would get there eventually.

the rest of your date passed so naturally that neither of you realized how much time had gone by. the conversation drifted effortlessly from one topic to the next as you talked about the neighborhoods you grew up in, your favorite ways to spend a lazy weekend, your favorite colors, meals you could eat over and over again, and all the little things that seemed insignificant on their own but slowly painted a picture of who the other person was.

every answer led to another question, every joke made the next one come easier, and by the time one of you would finish speaking, the other was already smiling before responding. it didn't feel like a first conversation anymore, it felt like the beginning of something.

when production finally announced that the date had come to an end, both of you felt a small wave of disappointment that caught you off guard. after saying your goodbyes, you made your way back toward the women's quarters, opening your notebook almost immediately.

you looked down at the list of names from today's dates before your eyes landed on one in particular: jermajesty. without hesitating, you wrote a small "1" beside his name.

a smile settled onto your face as you closed the notebook against your chest, feeling unexpectedly satisfied with how the day had ended. for the first time since walking into the experiment that morning, you found yourself genuinely looking forward to tomorrow, not because you were excited to meet someone new, but because you couldn't wait to keep getting to know the man on the other side of the wall.

meanwhile, jermajesty returned to the men's quarters with his own notebook still tucked beneath his arm. the guys around him had already started comparing notes about their dates, laughing as they talked about first impressions and trying to remember who was who, but he barely heard any of it as he dropped onto one of the couches and flipped open his notebook.

his eyes found your name almost immediately and a smile pulled at his lips before he could stop it.

he wrote a small "1" beside your name, then closed the notebook and leaned back against the couch, already excited about seeing you tomorrow. he had spent the entire day wondering if anyone would make him feel excited to come back, and somehow, it had happened on his very last date.

“Y-you need help right there?” His voice was shaky, doe eyes finally making eye contact with you. Your half-lidded eyes stared him down as if you were prepared to pounce any second. And you were.

The wide-eyed curiosity fueled your need to guide him. Make him yours. It was easy knowing you had him in the palm of your hand, twisting the truth into what you wanted and feeding it to him.

“Please, Mikey, you did so good before. Don't you wanna help again?” You pouted. Your hips shifted, letting his fingers brush against your clit. The feel of your soft folds made him take a sharp inhale.

God, what was wrong with him? His best friend was asking for help—genuine help—and he’s sitting with a hard-on like a pervert. You do so much for him, he could at least focus on the task at hand.

You watched the quiet struggle in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened, and his attention flicking between his hand and your face. You almost felt bad.

Almost.

"How do I help you?" He wondered.

"Take my shorts off." You instructed. His eyebrows clenched for the smallest moment. A familiar feeling stirred in his chest, the feeling he got a few months ago, when you noticed his boner and helped him by sucking him into your mouth.

The familiar feeling of relief swirled with the undertone of guilt. But you’re his bestfriend, you only want what’s best.

He took his hand out just to grasp the waistband of your shorts. His heart sounded like a drum in his ears. He breathed deeply through his nostrils reminding himself he's doing a favor.

Just being helpful. Just being helpful. Just being helpful.

He tugged your shorts down your bare legs, and his mouth gaped seeing your bare center. The discovery that you weren't wearing underwear made him feel dizzy. He laid your shorts on the floor, struggling to take his eyes off of your naked lower half.

"Now repeat what you did...but lower." You smiled, tilting your head. “You still want to help me, right?" He nodded slowly, eyes still locked on you.

"Let me hear you say it."

"I want to help you." He licked his lips, a glossy shine being left over them.

“You’re such a good best friend.”

The way his eyes lit up, you would’ve thought he won a million dollars. He felt ecstatic at the praise, only wanting to find more ways to make you proud.

His gaze fell to your slit, already soaked from his previous ministrations and your first orgasm. "I-I don’t know how to do it." He said. He worried of disappointing you, revoking the praise he just had.

Instead of responding, you simply guided his head down until he was face to face with your pussy. His mouth watered admiring your middle that held a pink opening, a contrast from the soft brown folds outwards.

His body felt hot, swallowing his nerves. He didn’t want to mess this up, he needed to be good at this. Good at this just for you.

“Don’t be shy.” You teased, noticing his hard stare.

He slowly nodded, leaning to give a hesitant lick straight up your slit. His tongue was warm against you, a light pressure being applied to test the waters. You bit your bottom lip, legs parting to give him more room. “Like that?” He asked, seeking your approval.

“Just like that Mikey,” your hand reached down to point at your clit, “make sure to lick here too.”

He nodded, calculating the appearance and location of where you pointed. He dragged his tongue flat against you, flicking at your clit once he felt the firm nub.

His tongue circled around the bundle of nerves and your breath caught in your chest. He flicked it with the firm tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it. The moans coming from you sent a heat into his stomach, encouraging him to keep going.

He closed his eyes getting used to the taste of you. Plain. A tinge of sweet. Your natural smell only made him lean in farther, breathing deeply.

He sucked your clit whilst stroking it with his tongue providing a double sensation. Your moans only increased in volume and he felt his boxers tighten. It constricted around his dick, compressing the bulge that grew.

Michael couldn't help but grind against the floor, a shudder of pleasure coursing over him. Desperate, mindless, and involuntary. The friction against him pushed out a moan, right into you. He couldn’t fight the arousal. Too caught up in your taste, he naturally did what felt right.

"Just like that." You whimpered. Your hands found his soft curls as you tossed your head back. Just as you expected, he was a natural. It should’ve been no surprise feeling the hum of an orgasm creeping up on you.

Your hips grinded against his mouth, panting heavily. He flattened his tongue, creating broad stripes of saliva that coated your pussy. You felt the knot in your stomach began to unravel, legs threatening to shut close.

Michael—too pussy drunk to care—pressed his palms to the back of your knees, pushing them back to keep you spread open. Every lick and suck only sent him spiraling.

"M-michael." The original dominating demeanor you once held seemed to melt into a puddle leaving a whiny, twitching mess. “W-wait.” You whimpered realizing you were about to cum faster than expected. Instead of a slow ease, it felt like you were about to drop from a rollercoaster.

All of your pleas went into one ear and out the other as Michael focused on suctioning your clit along with your folds gathering your taste into his mouth. The loud lapping noises bounced off the walls and Michael didn’t even care about the mess that spread across his face.

You attempted to push his head away but it was as if he never felt it. He shook his head, coating his mouth and chin in your juice, tongue still dragging throughout your folds, not forgetting to flick your clit.

Your orgasm crashed down, an uncontrollable broken cry leaving your mouth. “Fuck!” Your thighs quivered against his hands. Tears pricked your eyes as he ate you through your orgasm. He felt you twitching below him as rode out the waves of your high.

You finally felt the repetitive motion of his body and you forced yourself to look down using all of your power after the weakening orgasm. His hips rutted desperately against the floor chasing after his own release.

His moans sounded louder, mouth never wavering against you. The closer he got, the more his tongue sped up, sending you straight into overdrive. “C-can’t.” You whimpered, placing your palms against the carpet to scoot away from him.

Barely getting an inch back, he tugged you back towards his hungry mouth, eyes flying open to look at you. The dark brown eyes seemed darker as he stared up at you. Glossy and glazed over, half-lidded from lust. Your eyebrows furrowed from the overwhelming pleasure, not being able to take your eyes off of him.

Suddenly, his eyes rolled back, showing the whites of them and his body shuddered below you as he bucked his hips into the ground. He was too dazed to care about anything, feeling the warmth of his seed spread around his pants. He sucked on your clit while the waves of bliss ran through him.

Both of your whimpers and moans combined in the air, heating the room with nothing but passion and desire. His hips finally slowed to a stop and he took a deep inhale, pheromones filling his nose.

He lazily detached his mouth, sitting up, mouth covered in his spit and your wetness. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting heavily, trying to come back to reality.

Your eyes trailed down to his figure and landed on the dark patch in the middle of his jeans, evidence from his own self-help. As you closed your legs, the slick mess between your thighs made you wince.

"Was that okay?" He asked, reverting back to his normal ways. He didn’t feel as cloudy and dazed, falling back into the role as the helper. "It was perfect, Mikey." You sighed, laying back down, body still twitching a bit.

He remained quiet for a few moments, observing your spent figure, searching for any sign that he did something wrong. He hoped he didn’t overstep any boundaries. “Did I hurt you?” His voice sounded meek, as if he was scared to hear your answer.

“No, of course not. You helped me a lot.” You said. He crawled over to you, itching to feel you again—any part of you. “Come here.” You told him, opening your arms for him to embrace you.

He wasted no time to rest his head on your chest, wrapping around you and inhaling your scent. “You’re the best,” He mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your shirt.

“The greatest best friend ever.”

his eyes scanned your frame, taking in the leopard print nightgown that stopped right above your thighs, displaying your legs perfectly.

“how am i talking to you? you’re just here complaining,” you snapped back. “doing the most.”

jermajesty’s jaw tightened. without another word, he closed the space between you, took the wine glass out of your hand, and set it down hard on the counter right next to your phone.

“why do you keep playing with me?” he asked, his voice dropping into that quiet tone he only used when he was completely out of patience. “this a game to you?”

his hand slid up your neck to guide your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. you tried to pull back, but his thumb pressed firmly into your jawline, holding you dead still.

he stepped closer, crowding you right up against the kitchen island until your back pressed against it. your eyes instantly dropped down, away from his. 

“no, it’s not a game, jermajesty,” you mumbled, trying to keep the attitude in your voice. he was usually the sweet one, the one who brushed off your mood swings, kissed your forehead, whispered promises and would probably let you get away with murder.

“look at me. i asked you a question,” he said, “i’ve been trying all week—all fucking week to make you happy. you don’t wanna talk? fine, but don't start that childish shit with me.” he was frustrated, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you. he loved you too much for that.

your shoulders dropped and your voice softened, “baby i'm not—”

“nah. don’t ‘baby’ me now,” he cut in, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to pull your face right up to his. “you had all day to call me ‘baby.’” his eyes darkening as they tracked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. 

your eyes snapped back to his, his free hand slid down to your ass, his fingers digging into the plush of your skin and pulling you flush against him. he felt the quick hitch in your chest, heard the soft exhale that slipped past your lips, and his eyes narrowed.

“oh,” he breathed, a low hum echoing from his chest as he realized what was happening. “so that’s what this is? you acting up just cause you want dick?”

“jermajesty, no—”

“yeah, okay,” he whispered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned down, brushing his mouth softly against yours before pulling back just enough to look at you. “c’mere.”

he slid his arm around your waist, lifting you off your feet bridal style as he guided you into the bedroom. pushing the door halfway shut behind him with his foot. the room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the hallway light spilling through the crack.

he walked you right up to the edge of the bed, “strip.” his voice leaving no room for argument. you looked up at him, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the warm beat beneath his shirt.

jermajesty stayed right between your knees, his hands resting firmly on the top of your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you. 

your breath hitched, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down to grab the silk hem of your gown. slowly, you pulled it up over your stomach and chest, pulling it over your head and letting it drop onto the floor beside the bed. 

jermajesty’s eyes tracked every inch of movement, his gaze drank you in. a quiet exhale slipped past his lips, his hands sliding higher up your bare thighs, pulling forward until his body was against yours.

“that's my baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press another tender kiss under your jaw, his lips lingering against your skin as his hands moved around to gather you up and ease you back flat onto the mattress. “now show me you're ready to listen.”

“you know i love you, right?” leaning in to press a kiss to the side of your neck, making you shiver. his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into your skin.

he slid his hand up your body, his rings cold against your skin. “open.” he drags his middle and ring finger against your bottom lip. you opened your mouth without a second thought, taking his fingers past your lips. jermajesty watched you intently, his heavy gaze locked on yours as he slowly rolled his fingers over your tongue—a satisfied hum vibrated in his chest.

“good baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and quiet against the stillness of the room.

he slid his fingers out, leaving your lips slick, before dragging that same hand down the column of your throat, over your collarbone, and straight down the center of your stomach.

“you had me fucked up all week, you know that?” leaning down so his chest pressed lightly against yours, pinning you softly into the mattress. “driving me crazy mama..making me overthink.”

“i’m sorry,” your voice barely above a whisper as your hands slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, feeling the smooth fade of his hair. “i was just being stubborn.”

“i know,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “that's why I'm gonna take my time with you tonight.”

his free hand moved to your thigh, hooking under your knee and gently guiding your leg wider, opening you up completely to him. he shifted his weight, pressing his hips firmly against yours until you could feel every inch of how bad he wanted you.

“you going to show me how sorry you are?” he asked, his thumb lightly caressing your inner thigh, his eyes searching yours for permission. the way your breath caught and your hips lifted toward his was all the response he needed.

jermajesty moved his hand higher up your inner thigh, purposely avoiding where you needed him most. he took his time, using his thumb to trace slow circles along the crease of your hip, making you shift restlessly beneath him.

he leaned down until his lips hovered above yours. when your eyes met his, he finally closed the distance, capturing your mouth. his tongue slow and thorough as he drank you in. an involuntary whimper escaped your throat into his mouth, your hands tangling tight into his hair to keep him close.

he broke the kiss just enough to trail his lips down your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your throat, hitting that soft spot right beneath your ear that always made you shiver. his hand sliding slowly up your ribs, his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast.

he lowered his head further, taking one soft nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling gently around it while his fingers finally slid down, sinking into the wet heat between your thighs.

you let out a quiet breath as his touch sent a pulse of heat straight through you. his fingers moved in slow rhythms, setting a pace that had your back arching against the mattress.

he kept his gaze locked onto yours, watching every micro expression on your face as he fingered you. every time a soft gasp slipped from your lips, a subtle smile touched the corners of his mouth.

his thumb working in small circles over your clit. your hands slid down his back. he could feel the slight tremble running through your thighs, the way your body was tighten up around his touch.

his fingers slid deeper as you pulsed around his touch. he paused just for a second, letting you feel his palm resting against your core, before resuming those slow strokes that had your head rolling back into the pillow.

his thumb applied just a fraction more pressure against your clit, your breath hitched sharply in your chest, a broken gasp escaping your lips as your inner muscles clamped tight around his fingers. a rush of heat crashed over you, starting deep in your belly. your back arched up off the bed, your thighs shaking violently.

jermajesty didn't pull away, he held you through it. his fingers continuing a gentle motion to ride out your release until your body slowly eased back down into the mattress, soft and completely breathless beneath him.

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally against your flushed cheek. his thumb stroked gently along your cheekbone, “there she is,” he whispered affectionately as he looked down at your ruined expression. “you still mad?”

you shook your head weakly, “good,” his hands moving down to remove his sweats. without giving you a second to catch your breath, jermajesty slid his hands beneath your hips and flipped you seamlessly onto your stomach.

your knees instinctively buckled into the soft mattress, your chest pressing flat against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. his chest pressing firm against your spine for a second as his large hands gripped the sides of your waist.

he pulled your hips back and up, positioning you right where he wanted you. “think you forgot who your man was for a minute.” he purred right into your ear, his breath searing against your skin as his hand slid down to deliver a firm slap to your ass. the sound echoed sharply through the quiet bedroom.  a loud gasp flew from your throat at the sting, your hips instinctively twitching.

he aligned himself and drove into you. “wait! oh, fuck—jermajesty!” you squealed, your fingers clawing at the bedsheets as your head buried into the pillow.

the fullness of him made your eyes water, setting off a chain reaction of loud, unfiltered moans that filled the entire room.

“yeah?” he scoffed softly, his voice dripping with a condescending satisfaction. dragging out almost completely before sinking all the way back in. “this what you wanted all week? acting like a spoiled brat just so i’d fuck you like this?”

each powerful thrust pushed you forward into the bed, your body completely at the mercy of his hands holding your hips locked into place. he wasn't being mean, but he was giving it to you so good, hitting that exact deep spot over and over again until you couldn't form a single coherent thought.

“i'm—i'm sorry! ughhh, jermajesty, please!” you sobbed out, your voice high, breathless, and trembling. “i'm s-so sorry, daddy, i'm sorryyy…” that word hit him like a lightning bolt. jermajesty’s hands tightened their grip on your hips, his thumbs digging deep into your skin as his pace suddenly snapped into something ruthless, his hips slamming hard against yours.

“what you sorry for?” he gritted out,

“i-i’m sorry f-for—fuckkk, baby, i'm sorry!” you cried out. your loud, desperate whines filling the room with every hard snap of his hips. you couldn't hold back if you tried, he was hitting you so deep that your whole frame was shaking violently under him.

“is it good mama? hm? tell me honey,” jermajesty hummed, leaning over your back to press his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing your ear as he drove you deeper and deeper into the mattress. “my pretty baby...taking her dick so good.”

“you know this shit yours right?” you began to lose your arch, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “nuh-uh no running.” jermajesty’s hands hooked tight around your waist, yanking your hips right back up into position before you could slip flat against the bed. slamming back into you, the bed groaning with every thrust. 

“d-daddy, please—i can't, it's too much!” you sobbed fingernails digging deep into the fitted sheets.

“yes you can,” jermajesty replied cockly. he pulled out almost all the way, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, before driving all the way back in until his hips flushed hard against yours, slowing down his pace. “look at you...crying and making all this noise. you gonna behave for me now?”

“yesyes! i–i promise! ” you cried out, your head rolling back against his shoulder as another wave of pleasure ripped through you. “gonna make me cum on this fucking dickkkk…” 

jermajesty hissed at the feeling of you clenching down on him, “feel so fucking good,” his hips rolling flush against yours and driving into you until every inch of his length pressed against your cervix.

“you’re so creamy angel.” he reached one hand down beneath your stomach, his long fingers finding your swollen clit and applying a pressure that matched the rhythm of his hips.

the combination of his slow grinds and his fingers working your center pushed you over the edge. your body clamped down on him like a vise, your entire frame shook as a massive orgasm crashed through you, milking him for everything he had.

jermajesty let out a whine at the suction. he buried himself as deep as he could go, locking your hips tight against his, forehead resting against your shoulder as he filled you with his seed.

he pulled back, slowly slipping out of your tight, twitching heat with a quiet, wet sound that echoed in the heavy air.

before you could completely collapse into the mattress, jermajesty’s large hands slid under your waist and turned you over onto your back. you flopped back against the pillows, breathless, flushed, and completely unraveled.

he didn't give you time to collect yourself. jermajesty shifted up between your legs, he took his tip and began dragging it slowly up and down your swollen sensitive clit.

“shit—maj,” you gasped, your hips automatically jumping at the feeling, your hands flying up to grip his biceps.

“mhmm,”  he hummed softly, a cocky smirk touching his lips as he watched your eyes roll back. “so obsessed with this pretty pussy…” he rubbed himself over you again, teasing you right on the edge. “gonna give you whatever you ask for.” 

you whined, your toes curling as the overstimulation sent electric shocks straight down your thighs. “please, baby...put it back in…”

he hooked both of your legs up over his shoulders, lifting your lower back off the bed with a pillow so you were folded wide open beneath him. holding your knees firmly in place, jermajesty leaned down, his eyes locking onto yours as he lined himself up and sank all the way back in.

“oh, god—” you gasped, your back arching off the mattress as the size of him filled you up all over again. with your legs pinned over his shoulders, every single stroke hit impossibly deep, stretching you completely around him.

“you like that, mama?” jermajesty hummed.

“yes—ugh! baby, yes!” you cried out, your hands reaching up blindly to clutch at the headboard. he smirked down at you, enjoying every second of watching his sweet, loud baby. “look at you...shit—taking your dick like a good girl.”

“jermajesty...oh! you feel so gooddd,” you sobbed out, your hips involuntarily rising to meet his thrusts, completely addicted to the feeling of him.

“i know pretty girl,” he cooed, his tone softening as he leaned down, resting his forearms on either side of your head while his hips kept up that deep rhythm. 

his lips brushed against yours, tasting the breathless sighs slipping from your mouth. “daddy got you, ma. take it for me.”

your hands moved up from the sheets to clutch your chest, your nails digging into the skin as another wave of heat began to coil tight in your stomach.

“jermajesty... wait, fuckkk, i'm gonna—” you gasped, your voice cracking as your head rolled back into the pillow, your thighs shaking violently where they rested against his shoulders.

“shittttt mama,” he growled softly right against your ear, his pace snapping into faster and harder thrusts that hit your gspot with precision. “cum on your dick.”

you screamed out his name. your body locking up tight around him, clamping onto his length. feeling your inner walls squeezing him so tight, “just like that, yeahhh.”

he let out a loud moan against your neck, his hands gripping your legs, pouring inside you again while you both rode out your orgasms together. 

he held you tight against him as the aftershocks finally began to fade. slowly, he unhooked your legs from his shoulders and eased them down, letting your feet rest flat on the mattress.

“you good?” he asked softly, his forearms resting on either side of your head, just breathing you in.

“perfect…” you sighed, your eyes barely open, completely exhausted and fucked out. a genuine smile touched his lips as he leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, then to your nose, before slowly slipping out of you.

you let out a tiny whine at the sudden emptiness, but he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head right under his chin.

he reached over to grab the blanket, pulling it all the way up over both of your shoulders to trap the warmth around you.

“i love you, baby,” jermajesty whispered, his hand gently stroking your braids, “stop being a brat, alright?”

you giggled, “i love you too, daddy,” you mumbled into his chest, as you finally let your eyes close.

© 2026 𝑱𝑲𝑺-𝑳𝑼𝑽𝑹

Los Angeles held an aura like no other. The air was warm and thick, carrying the sweet, heavy scent of jasmine mingled with the faint, sharp exhaust drifting down from the Sunset Strip. The sun had long since slipped past the horizon, leaving behind a vast, bruised canvas of deep purple, burnt orange, and indigo painted across the California sky.

Inside the dimly lit corner booth of a quiet, low-key diner tucked far away from the flashing cameras and blinding lights of Hollywood, the rest of the world felt completely frozen in time.

Jermaine sat across from you, the soft glow of the vintage lamp overhead catching the sharp, impossibly handsome edge of his cheekbones and the dark, velvet sheen of his eyes. He looked effortless, dressed in a tailored rust-colored silk shirt unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a delicate silver chain, his iconic afro perfectly rounded, soft, and framing a face that had adorned millions of bedroom posters across the country. Everything about Jermaine Jackson exhaled soul, style, and steady, hypnotic cool rhythm.

Normally, being in his presence felt like listening to a smooth bassline on a warm summer night—relaxing, grounding, and intoxicating all at once. But tonight, there was a quiet, restless tension hovering in the space between you two, thick as the ocean smog rolling off the Santa Monica hills.

“You hardly touched your cherry pie, girl,” Jermaine said softly, his voice a low, smooth baritone that curled effortlessly around the faint sound of Marvin Gaye playing low from the jukebox near the counter. He reached across the red vinyl table, his warm fingers gently brushing against the back of your hand.

You flinched—just a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch—before catching yourself and offering him a small, polite, thoroughly practiced smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, Maine. I guess I’m just not that hungry tonight. It’s really good, though. Really.”

Jermaine didn’t buy it for a single second. He leaned back into the vinyl cushion, resting his sharp chin in his hand, those deep, ridiculously perceptive eyes holding yours with unhurried patience. He’d been noticing for weeks now. You two had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but from the very moment he laid eyes on you at the crowded Motown studio party in West Hollywood, he was completely hooked.

You were radiant, sharp, breathtakingly beautiful, with an infectious laugh that could stop traffic in the middle of Wilshire Boulevard.

Yet, every time things started to get real, every time a quiet moment offered a chance for genuine intimacy, you pulled back. You kept an invisible, fortress-like wall between your heart and his, carefully measuring every word, every touch, every single breath.

“Look at me, mama,” He said, his voice dropping an octave, honeyed and dead serious. 

You looked up, swallowing hard against a sudden dry throat. “Yeah?”

“What’s really going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes searching yours. “You’ve been miles away all evening. Dig this… I know we’re taking things slow, and I dig that, I really do. I ain’t in no rush to force nothing. But it feels like every time I try to get close to you, you put up a big ol’ stop sign. You’re holding back on me, baby.”

Your stomach twisted into a nervous, tight knot. You looked down at your hands, nervously picking at your polished nails. “I’m not holding back, Jermaine. I’m just… trying to be cool. I don’t want to ruin things between us.”

“Ruin things?” Jermaine scoffed gently, a small, puzzled smile touching the corners of his lips. “How you gonna ruin things by being yourself? Ain’t no way you could ruin this, baby. But right now, sitting across from you, I feel like you don’t trust me. And that hurts me, for real. I’m sitting here trying to give you my heart, and you’re acting like I’m gonna drop yours the second you hand it over.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Maine,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of the confession you didn’t want to make.

“Then what is it, fine thing?” he reached out again, and this time, he didn’t give you room to pull away. He wrapped his large, warm hand around yours, lacing his fingers through yours with a gentle, immovable strength. “Talk to me. Lay it on me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I just want you—unfiltered, real, and right here with me.”

You swallowed down the rising lump in your throat, feeling the hot sting behind your eyes. You hated feeling vulnerable. You had sworn to yourself after your last relationship ended in tears and quiet embarrassment that you would never let another man make you feel crazy, weak, or small again. But looking at Jermaine—looking at the genuine concern, the heavy devotion, and the complete lack of judgment in his dark eyes—the walls you had spent months building began to fracture.

“My ex,” you started, your voice barely audible over the low hum of the diner’s refrigerator. “Before I met you… I was with someone for almost two years.”

Jermaine’s eyes softened instantly, though his jaw set slightly at the mention of another man who had hurt you. He gave your hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. “Go on, baby. I’m listening.”

“He… he made me feel like I was exhausting to love,” you admitted, the tears finally brimming over your eyelashes, spilling hot and fast down your dark cheeks. “Whenever I wanted to talk to him, or hold his hand, or just sit on the phone at night… he’d tell me I was too needy. He said I was too clingy, that I was suffocating him. He always made me feel like my feelings were too loud, my love was too heavy, and that I was just… too much.”

You wiped a tear away quickly with the back of your sleeve, feeling a sudden flash of shame, but Jermaine leaned forward, his entire demeanor shifting into something fierce and protective.

“He told me that if I didn’t learn how to dial it back, no man would ever stay,” you continued, looking directly into Jermaine’s eyes now, completely laying your heart bare. “So when I met you… you’re this incredible, talented star, Jermaine. Everyone wants a piece of your time. And you’ve been so sweet to me. I was just so terrified that if I showed you how much I like you, if I called you too often, or asked to see you too much, you’d look at me and see the exact same thing. You’d think I was too much, and you’d walk away.”

A deep, quiet silence settled over the booth.

Jermaine stared at you, his chest rising and falling slowly under his silk shirt. The easygoing smile was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, intense tenderness that made your breath catch in your chest. He shook his head slowly, letting out a heavy breath that sounded half like pure disbelief and half like sorrow for everything you had been carrying alone.

Without saying another word, Jermaine slipped out of his side of the booth and slid into yours, pressing his frame right up against your side. He wrapped a heavy, protective arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his chest. You can smell his signature scene—sandalwood, sweet musk, and rich leather—and feel the steady, reassuring thud of his heart through his shirt.

“Listen to me real good, mama,” he murmured, his lips resting right near your ear, his voice raspy and low. “That cat was a fool. A straight-up, out of his mind fool.”

He reached down, gently putting two fingers under your chin to lift your face so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You hear me? He didn't know what he had. He had solid gold in his hands and treated it like dirt because he wasn't man enough to step up and handle a real, beautiful woman," Jermaine said, his eyes burning with a sincerity that vibrated through you. "You are never too much for me, baby. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Dig?"

"Jermaine..."

"No, I mean it, fine thing," he insisted, brushing a stray tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, his touch feather-light. "You wanna call me five times a day? Call me. I’ll answer every single time with a smile on my face just to hear your voice. You wanna hold my hand everywhere we go? Girl, I’ll hold your hand on the red carpet, down the street, in front of the whole world, and brag about how I got the finest, smartest lady in California on my arm."

A tearful, breathless laugh slipped out of your mouth, making Jermaine smile—that brilliant dazzle of white teeth that could melt iron.

"I’m serious, baby," he chuckled softly, sliding his hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your high cheekbone. "Don’t you ever dial yourself back for me. If you’re clingy, then I’m clingy right back. I want all of you. The loud parts, the quiet parts, the deep parts... all of it. You ain't suffocating me, mama. You’re the best breath of fresh air I’ve had in my whole life."

The massive weight that had been resting on your shoulders for months suddenly dissolved into nothing, leaving you feeling light, almost dizzy with pure relief. You leaned your head onto his broad shoulder, letting out a shaky, cathartic breath, and for the very first time since you met him, you allowed yourself to completely surrender into his space.

Jermaine tightened his arm around you, kissing the crown of your head, letting his lips linger in your hair as he held you close to his side.

"You trust me now, baby?" he whispered into the soft dark of your hair, his tone rich with affection.

"Yeah," you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling yourself as close to him as physically possible, feeling the tension drain out of your body. "I trust you, Jermaine."

"That's what I'm talkin' about," he said softly, a deep, satisfied vibration chest-deep. He reached over with his free hand, picked up a forkful of the cherry pie you had ignored earlier, and held it up to your lips with an expectant grin. "Now, eat some of this pie, fine thing. We got all night, and I ain't letting you go anywhere."

You laughed, taking the bite, feeling the sweet, warm cherries on your tongue—but feeling something infinitely sweeter anchoring itself deep in your heart. Sitting in that red vinyl booth on a 1970s Los Angeles night, completely wrapped in the arms of a man who cherished every single layer of who you were, you finally knew you were safe.

© 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐲𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛𝐱