#jaffar

Artist:  пNekoR

Jaffar Jackson x Black!Fem!Reader

ᴅɪᴀʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ

Contains: - Explicit sexual content - Long-distance relationship - Phone sex - Masturbation - Use of dirty talk and explicit descriptions - Depiction of orgasm and sexual release - Implied consent and mutual agreement between partners - cursing - mdni

A/N: please give me ideas 😭

Wc: 1.6k

Ring... ring... ring...

You pick up your phone around 11 p.m., seeing Jaffar's name flash across the screen. He's been on tour for the past week, and you've missed his deep voice.

"Hey baby," he answers, his tone warm and tired. "You still awake?"

"Mhmm," you hum, stretching out in your big bed, the sheets cool against your skin. "Couldn't sleep. Missing you."

Jaffar chuckles, and you can picture him kicking off his shoes in that lonely hotel room, loosening his tie. "Yeah? How much?"

"A lot," you admit, playing with the hem of your silk nightgown.

"Tell me something I can help with," he murmurs, voice already dropping lower. You hear the rustle of fabric—probably him lying back on the bed.

Your heart pounds. This is your chance. "Well... I'm in bed. Alone. Thinking about you."

A beat of silence. Then his breath catches. "What are you thinking?" He's hooked.

"Let me see you," he demands softly, his voice thick with need. You can hear the unspoken plea—he wants to see what you look like when you're thinking about him. "Turn on the camera."

You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip, then press the button to start the video call. The screen lights up, and there he is, his dark eyes intense even through the small device. He's propped up on one elbow, shirt unbuttoned slightly. "Show me,"

"Since when you getting shy on me? You the one who called wanting to do this." He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Come on, let me see what I'm missing tonight. What you wearing?"

Your face burns as you glance down at yourself—silk nightgown, thin straps, nothing underneath. Just the way he likes it.

You slowly lift the phone, giving him a clear view of your chest. The silk nightgown is see-through enough to show the outline of your nipples hardening under his gaze. He swallows hard, his smirk disappearing as desire takes over his features. "Fuck," he whispers roughly.

"You like what you see?" You ask softly, your voice barely audible. It's dark in your room, the only light coming from the phone screen, casting soft shadows on your face and making your brown skin look even more enticing. He groans, running a hand over his face.

"Baby, you know I do," he growls, his voice low and husky. He shifts on the bed, adjusting himself discreetly. "Lift up the phone a little higher. Let me see more of you." His eyes are fixed on the screen, intense and hungry.

You slowly lift the phone higher, giving him a full view of your body through the silk nightgown. He can see your curves, your thighs parted slightly, and the dark shadow between them. He bites his lip, his hand moving to unbutton his shirt fully, revealing his toned chest.

"You trying to make me crazy?" he murmurs, his voice strained. "You know I can't touch you right now." His large hand rests on his bare stomach, just above the waistband of his pants.

"Maybe that's the point," you tease, your voice a little bolder now. You slowly pull down one strap of your nightgown, exposing one shoulder, then the other. The silk fabric slips down slightly, revealing more of your cleavage. "You said you missed me, right?"

He groans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him through the hotel walls. "You playing dirty right now," he accuses, but he doesn't sound mad—just incredibly turned on. His hand moves lower, resting on the bulge in his pants.

"And what if I am?" you counter, biting your lip to hold back a smile. You slowly pull the other strap down, letting the nightgown slip further, until your dark, perky breasts are fully exposed on the screen. "Does that bother you?"

His breath hitches, and he freezes, his hand still resting on his crotch. For a long moment, he just stares at the screen, taking in the sight of your bare chest. Then, without a word, he quickly unzips his pants, pulling out his hard, thick cock.

"Tell me what you wanna do to me," he demands, his hand wrapping around his length. "Because I can see you in front of me right now, and I'm about to lose my mind over here." He strokes himself slowly, watching your face on the screen, waiting for you to say something so dirty he'll explode. "Start talking, baby."

You watch as he starts to touch himself, your mouth going dry at the sight. "I'd sit on your lap," you start slowly, your voice softening as you imagine the scenario. "I'd grind on you until you're even harder than you are now."

His grip tightens on his cock, stroking faster. "Go on." His voice is strained, almost desperate now. "What else you doing?"

"You'd see how wet I am," you whisper, spreading your thighs wider on the bed so he can see. One hand traces down your stomach slowly.

He watches intently, his strokes becoming rougher, more urgent. "Show me," he commands, his hips bucking up into his own fist. "Touch yourself for me, ma."

You don't hesitate this time. Your fingers slide down over your flat stomach, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping between your thighs. You can hear his breathing grow heavier through the phone.

He watches as your fingers disappear between your legs, his own hand moving faster in sync with your touch. "Fuck, you're so wet," he growls, his voice a low rumble. "Spread wider for me. Let me see you play with that pretty pussy."

You spread your thighs completely, giving him a clear view of your fingers moving between your folds. Your nightgown is bunched up around your waist now, and you're completely exposed on the screen. "Like this?" you ask softly, showing him how you circle your clit slowly.

"Yes, like that," he breathes, stroking himself harder now. The sound of skin against skin comes through the phone. "I swear I can hear you wet through this thing."

You slip a finger inside yourself, moaning softly. "Mm... I wish this was you," you confess, your hips lifting slightly off the bed.

His breathing gets heavy. "What you wish I'd do to you?" he asks, voice rough and strained. His hand stays curled tight around his cock, but his eyes-they're focused on you with an almost obsessive hunger. "Tell me exactly how you want me, ma."

Your breathing quickens. The distance feels miles long.

"I wish you were here right now," you whimper, slipping another finger inside. "I wish I could ride you slow at first, grind on your dick until you hit every single spot inside me." Your voice grows softer, more vulnerable.

He groans deeply, his hand flying over his length rapidly now. "And then what?" he pushes, needing more details to get off to. "What would you do after that? Be specific, baby." His free hand tightens into a fist on the bedsheet, imagining your body wrapped around him.

"After I ride you slow," you explain, your voice breathy and thick with arousal, "I'd start moving faster, bouncing on your cock like you love." Your fingers move faster, mimicking the motion.

He groans, and you can't help but smile. "Fuck, you're really putting this image together. Now I'm even harder." He's stroking himself faster now, his strokes becoming desperate. "Keep talking, baby. Keep going."

Your body tenses slightly.

Your fingers move faster, your breathing grows heavier, and you can feel your orgasm building. "And then I'd lean back, put my hands on your thighs," you continue, your voice trembling slightly. "I'd ride you so hard, the bed would be squeaking."

"And what would you do then?" he demands, his voice almost cracking. His strokes are furious now, cock sliding fast in his grip. "Don't stop talking, ma. Tell me what happens next."

Your back arches off the bed, your fingers curling inside yourself. The pleasure is hitting all the right spots—your thighs tremble, your nipples harden. "I'd..."

"I'd what?" He cuts in, his voice hoarse. He's on the verge of coming undone. He can picture you so clearly—your big round breasts bouncing, your pretty face scrunched up with pleasure as you ride him mercilessly. "Tell me, baby."

"I'd... I'd come so hard on your dick," you gasp out, your fingers moving frantically inside yourself. "I'd squeeze around you, milking you until you filled me up with your cum." Your words are broken by moans, your orgasm hitting full force.

He loses it completely at your words. With a choked groan, he cums hard, his release coating his hand and stomach as he imagines filling you up just like you described. He pants heavily into the phone, listening to your own orgasm echo through the speaker. "Fuck... baby..."

The aftershocks of your release have you trembling, your fingers slipping out of you. You collapse back against the pillows, the phone still clutched in your hand. You can hear him panting heavily on the other end, both of you spent and satiated.

"That was... damn," he breathes heavily, his voice rougher than before. "You got me so worked up over here. I wish I could've actually touched you."

Your eyes drift closed, a satisfied hum escaping your lips. "You'll be home soon though, right?" you murmur sleepily, tugging your nightgown back into place.

"Friday,"

"Friday," he confirms, his voice gentle now. "Three more days and I'm home. And when I get there, you better be ready for me to make up for lost time." He pauses, his tone turning softer. "I love you, ma. Get some sleep."

You smile softly, your heart swelling with love. "I love you too," you whisper back, already drifting off to sleep.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ Only My Fiancée

fiancée!reader x Jaafar Jackson

˙⋆✮ ˙ summary: You are with your fiancée, Jaafar, at the premiere of Michael, but it didn't turn out what you expected

˙⋆✮ ˙ warning: fluff, small angst, jealousy from other "fans", none really

˙⋆✮ ˙ a/n: Yesss, I love these Jaafar fics. PLEASE PROTECT HIM & MADDIE AT ALL COST (IYKYK). I will say right now, he is so fine in this pic. Anyways, tysm, I am so glad you love my fics. Enjoy!!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The premiere was everything you had expected.

Bright lights.

Red carpets.

Photographers calling names from every direction.

And hundreds of fans gathered behind the barricades.

You were incredibly proud of Jaafar.

Tonight was huge for him.

Years of work had led to this moment.

Which was exactly why you wanted to be there.

At first, everything seemed perfect.

You walked beside Jaafar, smiling as cameras flashed around you.

Then you started hearing comments from the crowd.

Most were harmless.

Some were sweet.

Others...

Not so much.

"I wish I was her!"

"She's so lucky!"

"I want to be in her place!"

You tried to ignore them.

Then another voice carried through the crowd.

"Jaafar's way too good for her!"

A few people laughed.

Your smile faltered.

You kept walking.

Pretending you hadn't heard.

But then more comments followed.

"I should be standing next to him."

"How did she get him?"

"I wish that was me."

The words weren't necessarily meant to hurt.

But after hearing them over and over again, they started getting to you.

By the time you reached the photo area, your confidence had taken a hit.

You found yourself looking down more often.

Smiling a little less.

Trying not to let it show.

Unfortunately for you, Jaafar noticed everything.

The moment you stepped onto the carpet, he glanced over.

His smile softened.

"You okay?"

You immediately nodded.

"Of course."

He wasn't convinced.

You could tell by the look he gave you.

The photographers began calling for pictures.

"Jaafar!"

"This way!"

"Over here!"

As you moved beside him, Jaafar's hand settled firmly against your waist.

Not for the cameras.

Not for appearances.

For you.

His thumb brushed gently against your side.

A silent reminder that he was there.

That you weren't alone.

You looked up at him.

His attention remained on the photographers, but he squeezed your waist slightly.

The gesture was enough to make your chest tighten.

A few moments later, while cameras flashed around you, he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.

"Don't listen to them."

Your eyes widened.

So he had heard.

Jaafar gave your waist another reassuring squeeze.

"I mean it."

You swallowed.

"They were just saying—"

"I know what they were saying."

His voice stayed calm.

Steady.

"But they're wrong."

Your heart skipped.

The photographers continued shouting directions.

Neither of you paid attention.

Jaafar turned slightly toward you.

"If I wanted someone else standing here, someone else would be standing here."

Your eyes immediately filled with emotion.

"Jaafar..."

"I'm serious."

The smile he gave you was warm and genuine.

"I asked you to marry me."

His hand slid from your waist to your hip, holding you a little closer.

"You."

Not anyone else.

Not the fans.

Not the people making comments.

You.

The knot in your chest finally began to loosen.

A laugh escaped you despite yourself.

"There she is."

"What?"

"That smile."

His grin widened.

"I was wondering where it went."

You rolled your eyes affectionately.

The photographers absolutely loved the interaction.

More cameras flashed.

More people called his name.

But suddenly, none of it mattered.

Because Jaafar never once let go of your waist.

Not while taking pictures.

Not while talking to reporters.

Not while walking down the carpet.

Every small touch seemed to say the same thing.

I'm proud you're here.

I'm proud you're with me.

And by the end of the night, those voices from the crowd had faded away completely.

I got this from tiktok. I went back to the post and he unliked it. I feel like this whole thing is really weird, a lot of people have been using the excuse “maybe he didn’t see the caption” as a way to defend jermajesty which is really weird. First off whether he saw the caption or not , why are we liking a picture abt diddy? he’s a disgusting human being who deserves no remorse what so ever. From the digging I’ve done, jaafar and jermajesty were close friends with daddy’s son christian combs WHO HAS BEEN DEFENDING HIS FATHERS CRIMES BTW? Whole time all his kids are defending him, standing in court by his side. There are so many credible articles that show evidence of them defending their father. Just saying if my father had “allegations” like that and evidence found against him. I would not support him, but hey that’s just me 🤷🏾‍♀️

I belive it’s a stretch to say jermajesty supports diddy because christian combs is still his friend ig ? and whenever he posts he always uses some variation of the “#freediddy” hashtag then again I would never want to hang around anyone defending that man then again that’s just me and people are different ig. But then again I don’t know these people and i’m just smb who enjoyed the michael movie and Jaafar’s acting and i’m physically attracted to both Jaafar and Jermajesty. I will say I need more evidence to have a solid opinion on this

But it’s not surprising because celebrities are so out of touch and this is an example. For some reason celebrities can’t be good people with good morals. They just have to be weird in someway whether it’s been a Trump supporter or a Zionist or sexist misogynist, supporting genocide etc. It’s always something 🤦🏾‍♀️ Let’s not even start on jaafar’s fiancée being a zionist and a idf supporter but again using her beliefs does not give you the right to insult and basically bully her. That’s just overly weird. #baenation barely survived a day before it came crashing down (yall did tm lowkey) 😬 This whole thing is just messy and the switch up is crazy.

Yamato: Uh-huh. What would you like to talk about?

Yamato:

not even saying he's perfectly written. i hate that he's one of the only darker skinned characters in the game and his characterization primarily revolves around a white girl. i'm just saying that he's not a fucking pedophile and it's so fucking weird how common that take is