the amber like glow of the city sky line slowly faded into a pale gray as dawn broke over the city.

yeah, sleep wasn't happening.

every single time your eyes got heavy, your brain decided to replay a vivid explicit memory of jaafar’s hands gripping onto your waist, paired with high definition audio of that low growl he makes everytime. 

your body was completely tuned into the deep ache radiating through your thighs, not to mention his expensive, heavy cologne still clinging to your skin like a second layer of clothing.

you finally rolled out of bed at seven, feeling less like a human and more like an extra in a true crime documentary.

your living area was practically a crime scene anyway. that kitchen island just stood there in the morning light, a victim of the storm that happened directly on it earlier. 

you finally remembered that coffee table.

your phone sat perfectly centered. you picked it up, watching the display illuminate the text thread that was about to give you a headache.

you stare at the last text you sent him.

goodnight🙂, love you too

that tiny smiling face just looked downright depressing in the harsh daylight. 

before the incoming wave of nausea could fully choke you out, the message flickered down from the top of your screen.

jaafar: wake up, pretty. i miss you.

jaafar: call me.

your throat completely closed up.

your thumb hovered over his contact, and suddenly you were right back where you’d been the night before.

your heart racing, stomach flipping, already questioning your own judgment.

every sensible part of you was begging you to stop. the version of you that had spent your entire life learning how to be composed, was practically screaming to put the phone down.

you should’ve listened. 

but. no. why would you?

like it was second nature you pressed the call button.

the phone barely got through half a ring.

he was waiting for you.

"you called," jaafar’s voice slid through the speaker.

 the raw edge from when he had you bent over the kitchen counter was gone. 

it was replaced by that smooth, untouchable ‘press conference’ tone.

"yes, i did," you whispered, tying the silk robe tighter as you stared out your windows. 

below, the city was waking up, cars starting to peak through the lanes. "jaafar, about what happened ear—"

"save it," he cut in softly, a low, knowing chuckle vibrating against your ear. "don't try to change the what we did  just because the sun's out. you explicitly stated you don't want anyone else." he emphasized.

"well, he comes home tomorrow," you said, clearing your throat. "flight lands at noon. i have to play the perfect girlfriend."

a heavy pause stretched over the line. the quiet grew thick until you caught the faint rustle of his movement.

"hm, then do your job baby," jaafar murmured, his pitch dropping into something dangerously intimate. "let him buy you dinner. let him hold your hand. but when you're looking at his face across the table,” jaafar paused for a split second.

“i want you remembering exactly how you looked up at me from the floor, taking all of me with that pretty mouth. remember the marks i left on your hips under whatever fancy dress you picked out for him."

a warm chill rushed up your neck. you shut your eyes, as a smirk grew on your lips. "you are fucking evil."

"i'm greedy," he corrected. "anyways, there’s a foundation benefit this friday. i know that your parents are attending. obviously, he's attending. and i'll be arriving with my girl."

my girl. hearing that made a feeling of rage creep up inside of you.

“hm,”  the hum escaped before you could stop it. 

your eyebrows shot up, your whole body giving a tiny shake as if rejecting the information on instinct.

"wear something that shows off your neck. i like admiring my artwork." 

your eyes flew open. "jaafar, absolutely not. we cannot risk that environment."

"see you friday, princess," he concluded, brushing right past your panic. 

the line went dead.

“oh im so fucking done with him.” you mumble under your breath.

two days later, the airport terminal was absolute chaos. 

you stood by the security gate looking like the walking definition of early 2000s high fashion. but nobody needed to know you spent forty minutes in the bathroom caking heavy concealer over the deep purple bites on your neck and chest.

you adjusted the strap of your cream shoulder bag as you moved through the terminal, the soft click of your gold kitten heels tapping out a steady rhythm against the floor. 

your white and brown striped top sat just right. a structured collar and long sleeves, but the kind of neckline that showed off your perked boobs perfectly. 

the pleated khaki skirt was tucked in clean, sitting snug at your waist, the chunky matching belt pulling everything together without trying too hard.

every few steps, your gold anklet chimed softly, barely noticeable over the noise of the airport around you. you slowed for a second when you caught your reflection in the glass, tilting your head like you were checking something only you could see, then kept it moving.

"babe!"

a familiar shout broke through the crowd noise. your boyfriend walked through the sliding glass doors, a genuine, happy expression lighting up his face the second he spotted you. 

your curls bounced as you walked towards him–full, the dark tones catching the light when you passed under it.

your hands kept fidgeting with your layered gold chains without you even thinking about it, nails tapping lightly against the metal before dropping back to your side.

dropping his luggage, he covered the distance between you and locked his arms around your midsection, pulling you up into a tight embrace.

the second his hands pressed into your ribs, a sharp jolt of physical memory shot straight down your spine. 

you went still for a fraction of a second before forcing your muscles to soften, burying your face against his chest.

"man, i missed you," he breathed against your hair, pulling back to press a soft, comforting kiss to your lips. it was a safe gesture. gentle.

but he wasn’t jaafar.

"you good? look a bit down." 

"just... didn't sleep great while you were away," you lied through your teeth, flashing a fake, rehearsed grin before grabbing his fingers.

his palm felt warm, completely trusting, and totally clueless. as you walked toward the parking area, his hand resting casually against your lower back, the guilt started actively burning in your chest.

he was perfect. he loved you. he was the intelligent choice that kept your future together. that white picket fence fairytale, he would provide that for you.

it just wasn’t enough for you though.

but as you unlocked the suv, your pocket buzzed. you didn't even need to look at the screen. jaafar was already haunting the weekend, and friday night was less than forty eight hours away.

the vehicle smelled strictly of vanilla air freshener and clean leather.

"so, let's skip the kitchen tonight," your boyfriend suggested, his hand resting casually on your knee as he maneuvered through afternoon traffic.

your eyes widened at the word kitchen.

"we can hit that little pasta spot you like, then catch up on sleep. you seriously look wiped out, hon."

"sounds perfect," you muttered, keeping your eyes glued to the windshield.

 his palm on your leg felt incredibly heavy. not heavy with lust, but with the crushing weight of hisinnocence.

he was planning a wholesome night, nothing big, just on the couch, completely oblivious to the fact that every single muscle in your body was still recovering from the ways another man had entirely handled you.

and boy did he handle you.

the last 2 days came and went, and eventually it was friday.

the grand ballroom was chaos in the prettiest way.

crystal glasses catching light everywhere, diamonds flashing on wrists and necks, voices layered over each other in that loud, effortless high society hum. 

camera flashes went off at the entrance nonstop, like the room didn’t even know how to exist without being watched.

you stood beside your partner, taking it all in, dressed in a gold sequined gown that looked less like fabric and more like liquid light poured over you. 

every flash hit it and bounced right back, soft on your deep toned skin like you were glowing on purpose.

the dress was doing exactly what it needed to do.

halter straps pulling into a deep v, clean cutouts at the waist, and a gold ring detail anchoring it all at the center. 

from there, it dropped into a long, sweeping skirt that followed your movements like it was attached to you.

it was elegant, yeah. but still a little dangerous in that quiet way.

your man leaned closer through the noise, eyes dragging over you like he was seeing you all over again. 

“you look insane tonight,” he said low, sliding his hand down to rest right on your hip. your breath instantly caught. 

his palm was resting directly over the darkest bruise jaafar had pressed into your skin. forcing a smile, you leaned your weight into his side to disguise the sudden shaking in your hands. 

"thank you. let's find my parents."

moving through the crowd, the hair on your arms suddenly stood up. that suffocating, magnetic pull returned instantly. 

you didn't even have to scan the room to know he stepped inside. 

a sudden quiet rippled through the entrance crowd. you turned your head slowly, tracing the room until your vision locked onto him.

jaafar. 

he was wearing a custom black tuxedo, looking effortlessly royal. on his arm, his girlfriend looked stunning in a column of white silk, laughing at something a reporter said. 

but jaafar wasn't looking at the media. he wasn't looking at the sponsors.

his dark, hungry eyes were focused entirely on you.

your boyfriend turned, catching your line of sight. "oh, the jacksons made it. we should go offer congratulations on the new foundation launch."

you laugh towards your boyfriend awkwardly, “uh right now?”

"it'll take two seconds, babe," he smiled, already steering you by the waist toward the one person who could ruin your life with a single sentence.

"no—" the syllable left your lips too fast, sounding entirely too breathless. "let's hit the bar first." 

you try to turn back but it was already too late.

you just gave up.

as you both closed the distance, jaafar’s girlfriend noticed the approach and offered a warm smile. "oh, hi! so wonderful to see you both."

you traded the empty, polite formalities you'd been practicing since childhood. 

you congratulated her, keeping your tone flawless. but the whole time you spoke, you could feel jaafar’s focus burning into your bare chest. he knew exactly what this dress meant. 

he knew you got ready for him.

"you look incredible," his girlfriend added, admiring the custom dress. "this shade is perfect on you."

"thank you," you managed, your lungs struggling for oxygen.

"yes, a very pretty choice," jaafar’s voice finally intervened, smooth with a quiet weight that made your knees turn to absolute liquid. 

he moved an inch closer, his tall frame completely dominating the small circle. his eyes dipped to your neckline, a slow, almost predatory grin catching the corner of his lips. 

"the tailoring suits her perfectly. don't you agree?" he asked, looking right at your boyfriend.

"absolutely," your partner nodded, totally blind to the monster standing right in front of him. 

he tightened his arm around your waist. "i'm a very lucky guy."

at the movement of your boyfriend's hand, a flash of pure possessive filled irritation crossed jaafar’s expression. 

his jaw tightened, the public charm instantly vanishing from his eyes, replaced by that exact same feral hunger he had at your place.

"excuse me," jaafar murmured, his pitch dropping. "i'm going to grab a refill. honey, do you need anything?" he asked his girlfriend.

"another glass of champagne would be amazing, thanks," she beamed.

jaafar shifted his gaze back to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a silent instruction. 

follow me. 

he didn't utter the words, but you heard them clear as day. he turned on his heel, walking toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the private balconies and restrooms.

your heart was hitting your ribs like a hammer. the adrenaline was making your head spin. 

"hey," you whispered, turning to your boyfriend and placing a hand on his chest. "i'm going to run to the ladies room real quick. meet you by the lounge?"

"sure, take your time," he smiled, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

every step away from him felt like walking off a cliff. you slipped past the main lounge area, moving into the quiet, shadowed hallway of the hotel’s older wing. 

the noise from the party faded into a low hum.

before you could even check behind you, a large hand clamped onto your wrist.

in one swift, breathless motion, you were hauled into the darkness of a locked private dining space. the door clicked shut behind you.

you were slammed firmly against the wall, the cool wood meeting your spine.

"jaafar—"

his mouth hit yours before you could even finish. 

it was rough, desperate, and completely reckless. he didn't care that his girlfriend was about fifty feet away. he didn't care about your man, your family, or the photographers that could be outside the door. 

his fist gathered the fabric of your dress, yanking you flush against his tuxedo.

a defeated whimper caught in your throat, and he drank it down, his tongue tangling with yours in a deep claim.

"i warned you," jaafar growled against your lips, his breathing already heavy and wrecked. 

his long fingers slid up your neck, his thumb tilting your chin upward so you had to look at him in the shadows. "i told you not to–why the fuck would you let him touch you like you belong to him?"

you wanted to rile him up a bit, show him exactly how you felt.

“well, maybe because i’m not just a ‘quick fuck’ for him. he’s my boyfriend, he actually loves me jaafar.”

the second those words leave your lips, the entire energy in the dark room shifts from reckless to just dangerous.

you can feel the exact moment jaafar’s brain stops processing logic and lets the animal take over. his chest expands against yours, a strong, heavy breath rattling through his lungs as his grip on your neck turns almost concrete.

 his thumb digs into your jawline, forcing your head back against the wood so hard it makes your vision swim for a second.

the low, terrifying chuckle that leaves his throat is completely empty of humor. 

"he loves you?" jaafar echoes, his voice dropping into a register so deep it literally vibrates right through your spine.

he steps closer, crowding you until the fabric of his tuxedo is crushing the shimmering gold sequins of your gown, your dark skin burning everywhere as his body frames yours. "you think i give a single shit about his feelings, huh?"

he doesn't wait for you to answer. his jaw clenches so tightly you can see the muscle in his cheek even in the dim sliver of light under the door.

"you want to talk about love while you're standing here, in the dark with my prints still on your skin?" he growls, his face dipping down until his lips are brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear.

"he doesn't know you like i do. he loves the version of you that sits pretty at dinner. he doesn't know how you taste. he doesn't know the sounds you make when you're begging for it on the floor."

you gulp, your chest heaving.

“does he? hm?”

his free hand travels down your front, his long fingers tracing the curve of your waist before moving past the gold ring detail at your center to bunch the gold fabric of your skirt up to your hips. 

his palm is blazing hot against your bare thigh, his long fingers instantly digging into your skin right next to the dark purple marks he left two nights ago.

"j—" you gasp out, your fingers automatically gripping onto the fabric of his jacket for balance, your heart hammering a frantic, terrified rhythm against your ribs.

"shut up," he commands smoothly, the authority in his tone making your knees turn to water.

in one breathless movement, jaafar hooks his hands under your ass and hoists your entire weight off the ground. 

your back hits the wooden wall with a solid thud, your legs instinctively wrapping tight around his waist to keep from falling. the silk lining of your dress is bunched up in a heavy mess between your stomachs, leaving your core completely exposed.

the footsteps out in the hallway freeze the air between you.

"babe? you in here?" your boyfriend's voice cuts through the thick quiet of the room, sounding dangerously close.

panic hits you like a tidal wave. your hands lock onto jaafar’s shoulders, pushing against his chest while your eyes widen in the dark.

he doesn't budge. he stays pinned right against you, heavy chest rising and falling, his jaw tightly clenched. 

a fierce look settles into his eyes as his grip on your waist. he holds his breath, head tilted toward the door, listening to the quiet space.

"hey, the bathroom is back this way," his girlfriend's voice suddenly echoes from further down the hall, her heels clicking softly. "oh, okay, sorry, thought she might’ve went down here."

the sound of their steps slowly fades, turning the corner back toward the booming bass of the ballroom.

the second the silence returns, the tension in your body snaps.

a shaky sob escapes your lips, your forehead dropping against his chest. "jaafar, stop... we have to go back out there. they're looking for us."

"fuck that," he growls, his voice a feral rasp that vibrates straight into your soul. 

he doesn't even pause to take off his jacket. with his left arm keeping your lower back pinned flat against the wall, his right hand flies down to work open his trousers. 

the moment he frees himself, the thick head of his length brushes directly against your aching entrance. 

you're already completely slick, dripping and soaking wet for him from the adrenaline of the ‘argument’, your body completely betraying the speech you just gave him.

jaafar lets out a ragged groan against your neck when he feels how ready you are. he adjusts his grip on your hip, fingers digging into your skin, and with one relentless thrust of his hips, he buries his entire shaft inside you.

a loud, shattered cry breaks from your lips, but jaafar’s mouth instantly crashes onto yours, swallowing the sound whole. 

he catches your tongue with his own, claiming your mouth while stretching your core so completely that your hips shudder against him involuntarily.

he starts pacing himself immediately, losing all restraint. because he’s holding your entire weight, every single thrust bottoms out, buried to the absolute hilt.

every time he drives into you, your body shifts up against the wall, the friction of the sequins and his rough hands making your skin feel like it's on fire.

"fuck, you're so tight," he rasps against your mouth, pulling back just an inch, his eyes dark pools of lust as he watches your face unravel in the dim light. “you know this dick all yours, right?"

his pace turns frantic, punishing. “answer me.”

 his growls turn feral against your neck, his teeth grazing over your collarbone, intentionally marking you all over again where everyone out in that ballroom will see. 

"jaafar… yes, oh my fuck.”

“j pleaseplease," you wail into his ear, your body tightening into a coil, the pressure building so fast.

you can feel the sweat dripping from his forehead onto your chest, the contrast of his expensive cologne and the raw smell of sex filling the small space.

"yeah, baby, take it," he chokes out, his thrusts turning shorter, harder, and completely relentless as he pins your thighs even wider around his waist. "cum all on your dick."

the command is the final trigger. your body completely breaks, your climax hits you in that familiar violent ripple. 

you cry into his shoulder, your inner muscles clenching so hard around his dick that it completely breaks whatever ‘restraint’ he had left.

with a loud, deep roar against your neck, jaafar delivers his final thrusts, burying himself as deep as you can take him before his large frame shudders violently. 

he holds you crushed against the wall, pinning you there as he releases a thick wave of his hot cum deep inside you.

his chest heaving heavily against yours as the room falls back into quiet gasps for air.

the reality of what just happened crashes down the exact second jaafar pulls out of you.

a soft, involuntary whimper leaves your throat at the sudden coldness, your legs slipping down his waist.

your feet hit the floor, but your knees give out instantly. jaafar catches you by your waist before you can hit the ground, his chest still heaving beneath his rumpled dress shirt, his forehead resting against yours for a couple of  heavy breaths.

"i got you," he breathes, his voice a low and raspy. 

he doesn't say another word as he steps back slightly, his long fingers moving with a practiced speed. he tucks himself away, the metallic click of his zipper sounding like an end to the madness. 

then, he reaches down, smoothing the sequins of your gown back down your thighs, pulling the fabric over your trembling frame until the dress looks exactly as it did before.

you're leaning against the wall, trying to stop your chest from jumping, hands smoothing over your curls.

 "jaafar...we’ve been gone too long." you say, a hint of fear creeping into your voice.

"fix your hair," he murmurs simply. he doesn't look guilty. he looks completely satisfied, a slow, knowing smirk settling onto his sharp jawline as his eyes trace the fresh, dark bite mark he just stamped right next to your collarbone. "here let me help you."

he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a sleek black handkerchief, and gently wipes a stray smear of lip gloss from your chin. his touch is suddenly tender. he places one slow, warm kiss right on the center of your forehead, like he does everytime this happens.

his hands reach out to smooth your now messy curls, trying to get them to look as perfectly as possible again.

"i'll go out first," jaafar whispers, his dark eyes locking onto yours.. "give it a couple minutes. then walk back to the lounge.” 

“see you at dinner, princess."

he turns, clicks the lock, and slips out the door, the sliver of hall light vanishing as the place goes pitch black again.

you're left standing alone in the quiet room, the smell of his heavy cologne and sex thick in the air, while the distant, muffled bass of the ballroom reminds you that the real world is waiting right outside.

you stand there in the dark for a long time, the silence of the private dining room pressing heavy against your ears. 

your knees are still vibrating from the weight of him, and the liquid fire he left inside you is a literal physical reminder of the boundary you just absolutely destroyed.

you pull out the small compact mirror you carry in your purse, the faint light from your phone screen reflecting off the gold sequins of your dress.

your completely flushed, your lips swollen, and that dark purple mark on your neck practically mocking the family name you’re supposed to be representing tonight.

fixing your hair with shaking fingers, a sudden, cold wave of clarity hits you right in the chest.

i can’t keep doing this. the thought forms clearly in your mind for the very first time. it’s too much. 

the lying, the concealer, the constant panic attacks every time your phone screen lights up with his name. you look at your reflection and realize you don't even recognize the girl staring back. 

your boyfriend is out there right now, probably holding a warm glass of champagne, completely trusting you. 

he offers stability. he offers a life where you don't have to hide in dark corners and wash another man's scent off your skin in the middle of the night. 

you want to be done with jaafar. you need to be done with him. but as you reach for the doorknob to step back into reality, your hand completely freezes.

your chest tightens, a sudden, suffocating ache stopping you dead in your tracks.

 it’s the same pulling sensation that always drags you back to him, but looking at the empty dark space where he just stood, the truth finally hits you like a slap to the face.

it isn't just adrenaline. it isn't just a toxic craving you're addicted to.

you actually love him.

the realization makes your breath hitch, a shaky, terrified gasp leaving your throat. you love the terrifying way he takes up space in a room. 

you love the low, possessive growl of his voice when it’s just the two of you, and God help you, you even love the chaotic, greedy way he refuses to let anyone else claim you. 

your boyfriend offers a fairytale, but jaafar holds your actual soul in his hands, and he knows it. blocking his number wouldn't fix a thing because he’s already built a home beneath your skin. he owned you.

swallowing the lump in your throat, you force your expression back. you open the door, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

the bass of the ballroom grows louder with every step you take, the transition back to reality making your head spin. 

you smooth down the long, sweeping skirt of your gold gown, taking one deep breath before turning the corner back into the crowd.

your boyfriend is standing right by the edge of the lounge, looking around with a faint, concerned crease between his brows. 

the second his eyes find you, the worry melts away, replaced by that familiar, sweet smile. "there you are," he says, stepping forward and immediately wrapping a warm arm around your waist. 

"you okay? you were gone a while."

"i'm fine, babe," you lie smoothly, the words tasting like blood in your mouth as your eyes automatically drift past his shoulder, searching the crowded ballroom for a tailored black tuxedo and a pair of dark, hungry eyes. "just needed a minute."

a world a neon lights, heavy smoke, and men willing to pay anything just to catch a glimpse of what their wives didn’t have.

but you were used to it, this was your element now.

you were wiping down the edge of the stage when the V.I.P curtain moved.

in walked a loud group of men, instantly drawing attention.

you didn’t even look up when you heard a familiar voice.

too familiar.

way too smooth, dripping with arrogance.

you’d recognize it anywhere.

jermajesty jackson.

“oh my fucking god,” you whisper to yourself, picking up the pace in your cleaning.

your stomach did a quiet flip, but your face was completely masked.

you two had a deep history.

years ago, you had met at a club, just like your own.

instant spark turned into regular meetings, meetings turned into sex.

plain and simple, you guys were fuck buddies.

until you found out about his girl at home.

the moment you found out you were just an escape to him, you cut the cord.

nothing extra, no drama, it was just done.

it hurt you, to say the least. but you weren’t going to let a man have that type of power over your emotions.

but, now here he was, at your job, catching your eye across the dim room.

his smile faded, replaced by a burning stare that tracked you as you walked off the main stage.

before you could even make it to the dressing room, your manager tapped your shoulder.

“private room three. high spender.”

when you walked into the dimly lit booth, jermajesty was already sitting on the leather couch, his boys left in the main lobby.

the opening of the weeknd’s “wicked games” began to bleed through the speakers.

just perfect.

you didn't say a word. 

you didn't acknowledge the history, the months of silence, or the way his eyes burned into you. 

you just stepped up to the pole, wrapping your hand around the cold metal, and let the rhythm take over you.

you moved with an effortless grace, dropping low to the beat. 

you were doing your job, completely nonchalant.

treating him like any other man with a thick wallet.

jermajesty leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

he watched the way the neon red light caught your skin, the way you didn't even look at him as you spun. 

it was driving him insane.

you slid down the pole, landing right in front of him.

as the song ended, you straddled the space between his knees without actually touching him. 

“why’d you go ghost like that?” he asked.

you tilted your head, your expression perfectly chill. 

“you know why. that’s not how i move, jermajesty.”

“i missed you,” he admitted, reaching out a hand to hover near your hip, but he didn’t touch without permission.

you just leaned back slightly, adjusting your top. “im just trying to do my job.”

“can you leave with me?” he pleaded, looking up at you.

“what about your girl?” 

jermajesty scoffed softly, shaking his head. “you know it was nothing like that.”

“didn’t seem like it,” you said simply.

if he didn't care about her, that was his business, but you weren't going to be the consolation prize.

“listen mama, whatever you need... i’ll give it to you,” he pressed.

“you know that.” he grabbed your waist then, pulling you a fraction closer, needing to feel the heat of your body.

“im not bout to be no side bitch, jer,” you replied, looking down at his hands on your skin but making no move to pull away.

“so you don’t miss me? like even a little?”

“i have to work, are we done?”

you stared at him for a long beat. the nonchalance you'd been faking began to melt under the heat of his gaze. 

you did miss him. you missed the craziness of being with him, the way he touched you, the way he made you forget everything else.

“just tell me you missed me,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of it. “even if it’s a lie. just say it.”

“shut up,” you mumble. 

“i just need to hear it—”

you interrupted him, cupping his face and gently joined your lips together.

the kiss was passionate, like you hadn’t spent the last couple of months completely avoiding this man.

he kissed you back like his life depended on it, forgetting about everything around him.

he pulled you completely onto his lap, his fingers digging into your hips like he was trying to make sure you were actually real and not some hallucination from the liquor and the flashing lights.

jermajesty groaned into the kiss, his hands immediately tightening on your waist.

“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, pulling back just a centimeter to catch his breath before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

he bit down softly on the sensitive skin right under your chin, making you arch your back and gasp, your fingers tangling tight into the hair at the back of his head.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice rough and completely wrecked.

“oh my god, just shut the fuck up,” you said breathlessly.

his large hands moved down, tearing at your top and pushing the straps out of the way until there was nothing left between his warm palms and your bare skin.

you let out a shaky breath, the cold air of the private room hitting your chest right before the heat of his hands covered you completely.

jermajesty didn't wait. he unbuckled his jeans with one hand, his eyes locked onto yours in the dim red neon light.

he guided your hips, lifting you effortlessly, and slid right inside you with a slow push.

you both moaned at the sensation of your bodies joining together.

it was that same perfect, familiar fit you’d spent months trying to forget. 

you gripped his shoulders for dear life as he started to move.

every single stroke was deep, driven by the months he’d spent staring at an empty phone screen wishing you’d reply.

you matched every one of his thrusts, your nonchalance completely dead and buried.

the heat in the booth was suffocating, your skin slick with sweat as you pushed lower, pulling him even deeper into you.

“you missed me?” he growled, his head dropping against your shoulder as he pushed you right to the edge. “tell me, mama.”

you couldn't even speak, you could only nod your head and squeeze him tighter as the pleasure built in your stomach.

“i missed—fuck this dick, baby,” you whined.

he replied with a hint of smugness in his voice, “mhm, i know bae.”

when your climax hit, it was almost blinding.

you’re eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, a ringing noise rising in your ears.

you hid your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your noises as waves of heat tore through you. 

jermajesty followed right after with a low moan, holding you so tightly against his chest it felt like he was trying to pull you straight into his skin.

the room slowly went quiet again, jermajesty’s hand was resting on your bare back, his thumb tracing slow circles against your spine. 

he didn't move to let you go, his grip still incredibly tight even now.

“i wanna be with you.” he murmured, his voice resting deep in his chest. “like for real.”

you pulled away just enough to look down at him, a faint, tired smirk returning to your face as you reached for your clothes on the floor. “no you don’t. you got that shordy back home, jer.”

he caught your wrist, pulling you back down onto his chest before you could even stand up. “i told you this, she’s not you. i wanna be with you.”

“i don’t know if i can promise you anything. i don’t trust you.”

jermajesty stared up at you, his eyes dead serious in the dim red neon light. 

your words hit him hard, but he didn't drop his grip on your wrist.

instead, his fingers slid down to intertwine with yours.

“i know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with a mix of frustration and regret. “i know i fucked up. i know i gotta earn that back.”

he pulled your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours.

the smugness from earlier was completely gone, replaced by a new vulnerability you hadn't ever seen from him before.

“but i'm not asking you to promise me the world right now,” he continued, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. 

“just give me a chance to show you. no more hiding, none of that side bitch bullshit. i’m letting her go. for real.”

you looked down at him, your heart hammering.

everything in you wanted to slide off his lap, put your clothes back on, and vanish into the club like you usually did.

it was safer that way. protecting your heart was easy when you didn't let anyone in. 

but, the desperate authenticity in his voice was making it impossible to walk away. 

“and what if you're just saying this because of tonight?” you asked quietly, your voice shaking just a little.

“because you got what you wanted?”

jermajesty let out a low sigh, shaking his head.

“i've been feeling like this every single day since you went ghost, ma.”

“tonight just made me realize i can't keep pretending i'm fine without you.”

he reached up with his free hand, gently cupping your jaw and tilting your face down so you had to look at him. 

“let me buy out the rest of your night. we'll go back to my place, no sex, nothing extra. just talk, honestly. let me start fixing this.”

you stared at him for a long beat, searching his face for any sign of a lie. 

your guard was screaming at you to run, but the look in his eyes told you that if you walked out that door tonight, you'd be running from the only thing you actually wanted.

“okay jermajesty. let’s go talk,” you mumbled, a small sigh escaping your lips. “but you're really buying out my shift. don’t even play with me.”

a genuine, relieved smile broke across jermajesty's face, the tightness of his jaw finally relaxing.

“yesss! fuck—yess jaafar!” 

the raw, breathless cry tore from your throat, instantly swallowed by the tangled sheets of your bed.

the morning light was just beginning to filter through the blinds, casting long, golden bars across the room, but the atmosphere inside the room was pitch black and burning hot.

jaafar’s hands were clamped hard against your hips, his fingers digging into your skin to pin you as he drove into you from behind.

the thudding of his weight against you, the friction of skin against skin, and the noises escaping deep from his chest filled the quiet room.

every deep thrust sent a violent shockwave of pleasure straight to your core, arching your back and burying your face into the pillows just to muffle the desperate sounds you were making.

he didn't slow down, he only gripped you tighter, his pace increased.

“you feel me? hm,” he growled against the shell of your ear.

he reached around, his large palm pressing down firmly on your lower stomach, applying pressure right over the bulge of him stretching you out from the inside.

“yes—ohyes you’re so fuckingdeep,” you gasped out, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as your hips instinctively arched back into him, completely helpless against the size of him.

the praise seemed to snap whatever lingering restraint he had left.

jaafar’s grip on your waist tightened as he pounded recklessly, his movements turning completely unhinged.

the bed frame hit against the wall with every thrust.

you couldn't even form words anymore, just breathless, high pitched whimpers as he relentlessly chased the edge.

driving you both higher and higher until a final wave broke over both of you, leaving you both trembling.

jaafar stayed buried inside you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck.

“fuck,” his breathing hot and ragged against your skin.

he eventually pulled out, shifting so he could pull you against his chest. his large hand idly rubbing slow circles into your lower back.

after a while, you both got up, moving around the spacious bathroom in a comfortable, silent routine.

the mirror was completely fogged up from the shower as you stood side by side at the sink.

you brushed your teeth, spitting into the porcelain sink, while jaafar splashed cold water onto his face.

he wiped his skin with a dark towel, the damp curls of his hair sticking to his forehead.

he stood, looking completely relaxed.

once you were back in the bedroom, you wrapped yourself in an oversized t shirt and sat cross legged on the edge of the mattress, turning on the tv just for some background noise.

jaafar was propped up against the headboard, his eyes fixed entirely on you.

he hadn't checked his phone once. he was just staring.

“what jaafar,” you say without looking at him.

“hm?”

“why do you keep staring at me?”

“i can’t look at you now?”

you finally meet his gaze, turning your head away from the screen.

“never said that, but you have been for the past 3 minutes.” you let out a soft laugh, shifting closer to him. “what’s on your mind baby?”

“you.”

“what about me?” you now straddle his lap, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips.

his index finger finds the curve of your waist, slowly trailing lower down.

“i think id be better off showing you.”

“do you not get tired?” you teased, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady, warm thump of his heart beneath your palm.

“never with you,” he murmured, his grip tightening as he pulled you right back into his lap.

his large hands anchoring you firmly against his thighs.

“hm, good to know.”

“what is?” he asked, his dark eyes locking onto yours, a lazy, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“nothing,” you mumbled, trying to look away, but the closeness was making your chest feel tight in the best way.

“tell me,” he nudged, his voice dropping into that low rumble that always got to you.

“nothinggg,” your hand caressed his chin, your thumb running over the light scruff of his jawline.

“i could never get tired of you,” he whispered gently, his eyes softening into something so pure it almost made you look away.

you look at him, just taking in the quiet weight of his words, before leaning down and meeting his lips for a soft, passionate kiss.

the kiss broke slowly, his lips lingering against yours for an extra second before he let out a soft sigh, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

“we should probably get up,” you murmured, your fingers running through the damp curls at the back of his neck. “it’s only 6, but i’m so hungry.”

“let’s stay here,” he mumbled, his arms tightening around your waist like he could physically lock you into the mattress. “breakfast can wait.”

“jaafar, come on,” you laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “you have to leave soon anyway, and i need food.”

he groaned, the sound vibrating against your chest, but he finally let you go.

the two of you moved to the kitchen, the quiet apartment filling with the smell of coffee and eggs.

jaafar stood right behind you while you cooked, his hands resting casually on your hips, leaning down every few minutes to kiss your bare shoulder or mutter something stupid in your ear.

it was perfect. it felt right.

but then the clock on the microwave changed, and the reality of the day started creeping back in.

jaafar stayed for about another 25 minutes, preparing himself for the day and having to get back home.

“you have everything?” you looked up at him.

“mhm,” he had his jacket on, his keys heavy in his hand, but he just stood there staring at you, his thumb tracing your cheek.

it was like he was trying to memorize every single detail of your face before he had to step back into the real world.

“i’m gonna miss you,” he whispered, his voice rough.

“good,” you giggle. “i’ll miss you more,” leaning up to kiss him one last time. “but i’ll see you soon.”

jaafar lingered by the front door for what felt like an eternity.

his eyes scanned your face, completely torn between the life he was supposed to live and the girl standing right in front of him.

he pulled away with obvious reluctance, his hand slipping from yours at the very last second before the door clicked shut.

the drive back to his own place was brutal. 

the radio was playing softly, but he wasn't listening.

all he could think about was the way you looked wrapped in his shirt, and the fact that he was driving away from the only place he actually wanted to be.

by the time he pulled into his own building, his mood had completely soured.

the steering wheel felt cold under his hands as he parked the car, he hated the sneaking around, he hated the driving away, and most of all, he hated where he was right now.

the air in jaafar’s apartment complex was already heavy.

all he wanted was you.

he had never been more sure of anything in his life.

he was ready to watch his whole life burn to the ground.

the board, his company, the image he spent years building.

only to have you with him every single day.

and he was sure you wanted him too.

he had felt it in the desperate way your hands gripped his shoulders.

heard it in the way you screamed his name when there was no one left to lie to.

so why was it so hard for you to accept it?

why did every step toward him feel like a fight against a life you didn't even want anymore?

jaafar swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he finally slipped his key into the lock of his penthouse door.

the click was sharp, cutting through the quiet hallway.

he needed to face the mess he had left behind and make sure he was completely single by the time your boyfriend walked through your door this morning.

but as he pushed the heavy door open, the real world hit him right in the face.

the apartment was too quiet, smelling like her stale floral perfume.

he was ready to end it, but the fear in your voice from just hours ago was still stuck in his chest, making him terrified that you wouldn't actually keep your promise.

“wow, you came back.”

the tired voice cut through the quiet living room instantly.

his girlfriend was sitting on the edge of the large marble kitchen island, a half empty mug of coffee resting between her hands.

her eyes were red and puffy, her hair a messy bun, and she was still wearing the same black lace nightgown from the night before.

she looked completely drained, the anger from yesterday replaced by disbelief.

“uh,” jaafar muttered, his eyes instantly dropping to the floor. “yeah, i did.”

he felt incredibly small standing in his own entryway, the heavy cedar door clicking shut behind his back.

he looked down at his shoes, his chest tightening with a sudden, suffocating wave of guilt.

he hated seeing her like this, but more than anything, he hated that he had to finish breaking her heart when all he could think about was getting back to your bed.

“i didn't think you would,” she said, letting out a dry, bitter laugh that didn't sound happy at all.

she set her mug down on the counter with a loud clunk, her eyes drilling straight into him.

“after you slammed the door and stayed out all night? i figured you went to go stay at a hotel. or somewhere else.”

jaafar swallowed hard, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his car keys tightly in his pocket.

he couldn't even look her in the eye to lie to her.

his brain was a total mess, completely split between the quiet penthouse he was standing in and your apartment across town.

“listen, we need to talk,” his voice raspy and low.

he finally looked up from the floor, his face completely serious, trying to brace himself for the speech he had practice the whole ride over.

she gets up from the counter, walking slowly towards jaafar with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“yeah we do.”

“okay, well i’m breaking up with you–” jaafar started, the words rushing out of his mouth before he could lose his nerve.

“i think i might be pregnant–” she blurted out at the exact same time, her voice shaking.

“what!” they both yelled in unison.

the word echoed loudly off the high ceilings of the penthouse.

jaafar froze completely, his entire body locking up as his heart dropped straight into his stomach.

his ears started ringing, the walls of his living room suddenly feeling like they were closing in on him.

he stared at her, his eyes wide with pure panic. “what did you just say?”

she looked just as shocked, her jaw dropping as she processed his half of the sentence, her eyes instantly filling with tears. “you’re breaking up with me? are you fucking serious right now, jaafar?”

“no, hold on—what do you mean you think you're pregnant?”

jaafar’s voice cracking violently as he stepped forward.

his mind instantly flashed back to last night, to the empty, forced sex he had used her for just to get a glimpse of you.

a sick, suffocating wave of realization hit his chest.

“i don’t know jaafar!”

“i took a test,” she cried out, her hands flying to her face as she started to sob.

“i was waiting for you to come home so i could tell you. and you walk through the door and try to dump me?”

jaafar couldn't breathe. his hands started shaking as he stood there, completely ruined.

his phone was sitting heavily in his pocket, and all he could picture was your face at your apartment, getting ready to end your entire relationship with your boyfriend because jaafar had begged you to choose him.

“ar—are you sure?” jaafar stammered, his voice totally cracking as he shook his head, his hands flying up to grip his hair.

“those things could be wrong. they get false positives all the time.”

“yes, i’m fucking sure! i did it three times, jaafar!” she yelled back, her face turning bright red as she choked on a sob.

“what the fuck... what the fuck are we gonna do?” he paced a short line across the kitchen floor, his breathing turning fast

his whole life was completely blowing up in front of his eyes.

“nothing! absolutely nothing, since you don’t want to be with me anyway!”

jaafar stopped dead in his tracks.

his composure was completely replaced by a suspicious panic.

his eyes narrowed as he looked at her shaking frame. “let me see the tests.”

if jaafar knew one thing, it’s that he didn’t get all those degrees for no reason. he had crazy discernment, he could feel that something was off.

“no... i—i don’t have them right now,” she stammered, her voice suddenly losing its volume, her eyes darting away from his face.

“how—why would you not have them?” jaafar stepped closer, his jaw clenching tight. “if you took three tests in this apartment, why don’t you have them?”

“because i just don’t!”

“are you fucking lying right now?” he growled, a dangerous heat rising in his chest.

“no—jaafar, why would i lie about being pregnant?” she cried, stepping back again.

“then go get the fucking tests!” he roared, his voice booming off the walls.

“no, jaafar! i don’t have the tests!”

“you’re unbelievable,” jaafar spat, letting out a bitter, furious breath as he shook his head. “this is why i’m fucking leaving you. you’re psycho.”

“well, fuck you! i’m not gonna fucking keep it anyway!” she shrieked, her defenses completely falling apart.

jaafar stared at her, the sudden realization hitting him like a slap. the math wasn't mathing.

the panic in her face wasn't the panic of a woman who was having a baby—it was the panic of someone who had just gotten caught.

“you’re not pregnant in the first place,” he said.

“i am! i swear i am!”

“okay. let’s go take a test right now,” jaafar said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tossing it onto the counter with a loud clatter.

“there's a pharmacy right downstairs. i’ll go buy one and watch you pee on the stick.”

“what? uh—jaafar, no. i don’t want to do that,” she whispered, her face going completely pale as she shrank back.

“you're just fucking lying,” jaafar whined, his voice cracking with a mix of fury and disgust.

“why would you try to lie about some shit like that? that is so fucking sick.”

“because you can’t fucking leave me for that bitch!” she screamed, the truth finally tearing out of her throat.

jaafar froze. his heart completely stopped beating.

“what?” he whispered, the air entirely leaving his lungs.

“what the hell are you talking about?” jaafar whispered, the breath catching in his throat.

his entire body went completely stiff. 

“you think i’m so stupid, jaafar,” she laughed, echoing horribly off the high marble ceilings of the penthouse.

she wiped a stray tear from her cheek, staring at him with a gaze that made him feel completely naked.

“i hear you call her every morning,” she continued, her voice rising, shaking with weeks of built up hurt.

“the way you look at her at the company parties... the way you talk to her like she’s everything, when you talk to me like you’re being held at gunpoint.”

jaafar’s face hardened, he couldn't let her see him crack. not now.

“you genuinely sound fucking crazy,” he snapped, his voice dropping into that smooth tone he used when he was cornered.

“i look at her because i'm being respectful. i call her because we work together. it’s important shit that i don’t want to fuck up, and you’re making it seem like it’s something else.”

he lied straight through his teeth, his eyes locking onto hers with a forced intensity.

he had to protect you. he had to protect the plan.

“jaafar, i followed you yesterday.”

those words hit him like he’d just been hit by a truck.

jaafar's face instantly drained of color, his jaw slacking as the air left his lungs completely.

the room felt like it was spinning.

“i saw her go into your car,” she whispered, stepping closer to him, her eyes wide with a sick kind of victory.

“i saw her run out, and then i also saw you follow her back inside. i’m not stupid, jaafar. i know exactly what you were doing in that apartment all night.”

jaafar just laughed. it was a dark laugh straight from his stomach, the sound completely filled the empty kitchen.

it was the sound of a man who had officially realized he didn't care about the consequences anymore.

“okay,” he said, the chuckle fading into a terrifyingly calm smile. “so what now?”

“i am going to ruin you,” she spat, her voice trembling violently as she glared up at him.

“the both of you. i'll call the board, i'll call her boyfriend, i'll ensure everybody knows exactly what kind of trash you guys are.”

“huh. okay.” jaafar didn't even blink. his face didn't twist in fear.

he just leaned his hip against the counter, completely unbothered. “i mean, i could give less of a fuck what you do to me. take the money, tell the board. i don't care.”

then, his face completely dropped.

he inched closer to her face, crowding her space until she had to tilt her head back just to look at him.

the smell of your skin was still on him, and the thought of this woman touching your life made his blood turn to ice.

“but if you do or say anything to her,” he whispered, his voice dangerously low, his breath fanning across her face, “i swear to all the things i love—”

“what are you gonna do, jaafar?” she shrieked, refusing to back down even though she was shaking.

“you’re just gonna throw your whole life away for that bitch?”

“watch your fucking mouth,” he growled, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle jumped violently in his cheek.

“wow.” she let out a breathy, broken sigh, staring at him like he was a stranger.

“you know, i thought i was going crazy. i thought all this time i was just making something out of nothing.”

she swallowed hard, a painful question tearing out of her throat. “did you fuck her?”

jaafar stayed completely silent.

he didn't look away. he just stared at her, letting the silence answer for him.

“jaafar!” she screamed, slamming her hand on the counter.

“yes,” he said, his voice completely flat, lacking an ounce of regret. “we’ve had sex.”

“so... do you love her?”

“more than anything,” jaafar replied instantly.

the words came out easily, entirely empty of the hesitation he usually carried.

saying it out loud to the world felt like taking his first real breath of air in years.

she shook her head, her hands flying to her head as she backed away from him. “i can’t—i can’t even look at you. you are a disgusting piece of shit.”

“well, you should’ve expected it when you fucked your ex behind my back,” jaafar snapped, bringing up the old ghost without a single hint of sympathy.

“jaafar, that was two years ago! it didn’t even mean anything, you know this!” she pleaded, her voice cracking as she tried to defend herself.

“well, i can’t say the same,” jaafar murmured, his voice softening, a small, genuine smile touching his lips for a split second just thinking about you. “she means the world to me.”

she looked at him, completely defeated, her voice dropping into a whisper. “what does she have that i don’t?”

“everything,” jaafar said, the word leaving his lips without a single second of hesitation.

it was cruel, and he knew it, but he was completely done pretending. “she has everything.”

his girlfriend let out a shattered sob, her hands dropping to her sides as she stared at him through a thick veil of tears.

“i gave you three years of my life, jaafar. three years of playing the perfect partner, waiting for you, supporting you... and you throw me away for a girl who gave you a bit of extra attention in boardroom meetings?”

“you didn’t give me anything,” jaafar muttered as he took a step back, finally creating space between them.

“you stayed because you liked the penthouse. you stayed because you liked the dinners and the public image. you liked the soft life, so i gave it to you. but don't sit here and act like this was some grand romance. we’ve been dead for a year.”

“and her?” she spat, her voice shaking with pure malice.

“what happens when her boyfriend finds out? because i promise you, jaafar, i am going to call him. i’m going to tell him exactly what his perfect little girlfriend was doing while he was trying to play a perfect husband.”

jaafar stopped moving. his whole body went totally rigid, a suffocating wave of panic rushing straight to his chest.

he could handle his own life crashing down, but the thought of you getting hurt.

the thought of your world crashing down on you before you could handle it on your own terms, it made his blood boil.

“i told you to stop talking about her like that,” he whispered.

“why?” she mocked, though her voice shook as she reached for her phone on the marble counter, her eyes wide with an almost vengeful energy.

“are you scared, jaafar? are you scared of what happens when i call him? i’m going to make sure she loses every single thing, just like i did. 

“mommy and daddy can’t save her.”

before her fingers could even touch the glass screen, jaafar moved.

his long stride closed the distance in a fraction of a second, his large hand slamming flat against the phone, pinning it firmly to the counter before she could grab it.

he didn't touch her, but he leaned down into her space, his towering frame completely blocking out the morning light.

his chest rising and falling violently against his dress shirt as his dark eyes locked onto hers.

“you try it,” he whispered, the words coming out as a terrifying promise. “i promise you i will make your life a living hell.”

she stared up at him, her face twisting in disbelief.

she couldn't understand how the man who had been so indifferent to her for months could suddenly look like he was ready to kill her for someone else.

“you’re doing all of this for what?” her voice cracking as she threw her hands up. “some pussy?”

jaafar didn't even flinch. his eyes narrowing into a glare that pinned her right against the counter.

“i’m doing this because i’d rather die than let you believe you can hold anything over her head,” he growled, the honesty in his voice slicing right through the penthouse.

she froze, her jaw dropping as his words completely stripped away whatever pride she had left.

she looked at him, realizing in that exact moment that she hadn't just lost her boyfriend.

she was looking at a man who was 

utterly,

and completely possessed, 

by another woman.

“pack your shit,” jaafar muttered, his voice dropping back into that flat register as he straightened his posture and stepped away from her.

“i want you out of my house by tonight.”

he turned on his heel without waiting for another word. 

he grabbed his briefcase and snatched his car keys off the entryway table, shoving the heavy cedar doors open.

the door clicked shut behind him, cutting off the sound of her starting to sob again as he practically sprinted toward the elevator.

his hands shaking as he frantically pulled his phone from his pocket to call you.

the elevator doors hadn't even opened yet, but he was already hitting your contact name.

his chest heaving as he paced the tiled hallway.

his heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal.

his whole life was officially in flames, but he didn't care about any of it.

he just needed to hear your voice.

he needed to make sure you were safe before his—now ex could do something stupid.

meanwhile, you were sitting at home answering emails on your laptop.

the morning light was pouring softly through your living room windows, making the space feel calm and normal.

you were now wearing an oversized sweatshirt, a hot mug of coffee resting right next to your mousepad as you typed away, completely oblivious as to what was about to happen.

the quiet routine of checking your work inbox was the only thing keeping you from spiraling.

you had your phone face down on the kitchen island a few feet away, trying not to stare at it.

you knew your boyfriend would be arriving soon, and your stomach was already turning into a tight knot just thinking about the conversation you had to have. you really didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t risk losing jaafar forever.

suddenly, the violent buzz of your phone vibrating against the marble counter cut through the quiet room. you paused your typing, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

maybe it’s work, you thought, trying to convince yourself that the nervous flutter in your chest was just about a project update.

you pushed your laptop screen down a bit, getting up from your original position and making your way toward your phone.

the marble counter felt cool against your palms as you reached down and flipped the screen over.

jaafar’s name was flashing across the display.

you let out a slow, shaky breath.

your thumb was hovered over the green button.

after everything that had happened in your bed just hours ago, seeing his name in the harsh daylight made a wave of anxiety hit your stomach.

you knew you had promised him you would end things with your boyfriend soon, but you didn't expect him to call you so early.

you slid your thumb across the screen, pressing the device to your ear.

“j? are you okay? what’s wrong?” you asked softly.

all you could hear at first was the heavy, ragged sound of his breathing, loud and frantic against the other end of the receiver.

it sounded like he was running around, the sharp chime of an elevator echoing in the background before the heavy metal doors slid open.

“she knows,” jaafar choked out.

he sounded panicked, his words rushing out so fast they almost blurred together.

“baby, she knows. s–she followed me yesterday. a–and she saw you get in my car.”

your heart stopped. the cool marble of your kitchen counter suddenly felt like ice under your fingertips, and the air left your lungs in one sharp gasp.

“what?” you whispered, your hand shaking so badly you had to grip the phone with both hands just to keep it pressed to your ear.

“jaafar, babe, slow down. what do you mean she knows?”

“she saw us,” he panted, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly now as he stormed through the underground parking garage toward his car.

“i walked in to break it off, and she completely snapped.”

“she threatened to call the board, she threatened to call your boyfriend. she even tried to reach for her phone to call him right in front of me.”

a cold, suffocating wave of dread washed over your entire body. your eyes darted toward the front door of your apartment, your mind instantly flashing to the clock on the oven.

your boyfriend was supposed to be here in less than an hour.

“oh my fucking god,”you breathed, your knees feeling so weak you had to lean your weight against the counter.

“so what? s–did she call him? did she tell him?”

“no, no—i stopped her,” jaafar said quickly, his car keys jingling loudly over the line as he unlocked his vehicle.

“i took her phone. i told her if she touches you, if she says a single fucking word to him, i’ll ruin her life. i kicked her out. she should be packing her shit right now.”

he let out a harsh curse under his breath, the heavy thud of his car door slamming shut echoing through the line.

“but you need to listen to me. you need to handle your side right now. because if she finds a way to get ahold of him behind my back, i don’t know what we’ll do.”

“jaafar, i don’t know what to do i’m not ready for this!” your voice completely broke, the panic finally tearing through your throat as tears sprung to your eyes.

you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so hard, staring blindly at your open laptop screen. everything was moving too fast. the quiet, safe little bubble you had built around your secret was officially popped, and the real world was rushing in to crush you.

“i’m not ready,” you whispered again, your chest heaving as a heavy sob trapped itself in your chest. 

“genuinely what the fuck is your issue?” jaafar snapped through the phone. the sudden sharpness in his voice hit you like water.

“wh—what are you talking about?” you stammered, wiping a hot tear from your cheek, your heart pounding against your ribs.

“everytime i bring this shit up, you just seem to not want to do it, or there’s always something,” he groaned, the sound of his steering wheel smacking under his palm echoing over the line as he navigated the morning traffic.

“there is always an excuse with you. always a reason why we have to wait, why the timing is bad, why you aren't ready.”

“jaafar, my whole life is about to blow up—”

“you don’t have time to not be ready,” he cut you off, his voice cracking violently with pure emotion as he stepped on the gas.

“i just threw my whole entire life in the garbage for you. i walked away from everything five minutes ago because i want you. i stood in my kitchen and let my entire world burn to the ground without a single second of hesitation because you are the only thing i care about. and you’re still sitting there crying about being ready?”

the harsh reality of his words hung heavily in the air between you. his angry breathing filling the silence.

“jaafar i just needed some time—” you pleaded, your voice breaking completely.

“no fuck that, it’s either you want this or you don’t,” he spat back through the phone, the words coming out sharp and final.

you could hear the roar of his car engine accelerating down the highway.

“j, let’s just talk later. i need some time,” you whispered, feeling completely suffocated by the ticking clock and the weight of his anger.

“answer me.”

“jaafar!”

“now,” he ordered, his voice dropping into a volume that left absolutely no room for negotiation.

the silence on the line was deafening, save for the violent thumping of your own heart against your ribs.

he was backed into a corner, and he was refusing to let you stay safe in yours any longer.

he wanted your answer, and he wanted it before he pulled his car onto your street.

you start sobbing uncontrollably.

the tears finally crashing down your face as you sink to your knees right there on the kitchen floor, clutching the phone tightly against your ear.

“jaafar, don’t do this to me,” you choked out.

the weight of everything was entirely too much to bear.

your laptop was still glowing on the counter above you, your boyfriend was on his way to your apartment with a heart full of trust.

the man you loved was screaming at you from a speeding car, demanding that you destroy your entire world on his command.

you felt completely trapped, backed into a corner with a gun to your chest.

over the line, the aggressive roar of his engine suddenly seemed to steady.

your uncontrollable sobs filled his speakers.

jaafar gripped the steering wheel so aggressively.

hearing you break down like that always did something toxic to his chest.

it made him want to burn down the rest of the world just to protect you, but it also drove him insane knowing that he was the one causing you pain.

“i’m not doing anything to you,” jaafar murmured, his voice finally losing its furious edge, dropping into a desperate plea that sounded entirely defeated.

“i am trying to save us. i just–i just need to know that i didn’t do all this for no reason.”

he pulled his car hard around a corner, the tires gripping the asphalt as your apartment building finally came into view down the block.

“i need to know that you want me too,” he whispered, his grip loosening on the steering wheel, letting the engine idle. his eyes drifted up toward the top your building, his chest aching with fear.

“and that i’m not just making this all up in my head.”

you sat on your kitchen floor, your knees pulled tightly to your chest as his words tore right through you.

“you’re not making it up,” you choked out, your voice trembling as you wiped a hot trail of tears from your jaw. “jaafar, you know you’re not.”

you hear your elevator door chime, the ring cutting through your apartment like a gunshot.

the line suddenly goes dead.

the sudden silence in your ear was jarring, jaafar had hung up.

you scrambled up from the kitchen floor, your limbs heavy and shaking as you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your oversized sweatshirt, trying to regain composure just in case it was your boyfriend.

you took a deep breath, desperate to clear the restless look from your face, your eyes darting toward the front door.

if it was him, he was early. and you were entirely unprepared.

with your chest still heaving, you grabbed your phone off the counter and opened your doorbell camera app.

your hands trembling so badly you almost dropped the device.

your breath caught in your throat as the live video feed loaded.

it wasn't your boyfriend.

standing right outside your door, his broad shoulders filling the frame of the lens, was jaafar.

when the hell did he get here?

he was standing there in his dark dress shirt, his hair slightly damp from the morning rain, staring directly down at the camera.

he looked absolutely wrecked, 

but he didn't ring the bell again.

he just stood there, waiting, knowing you were on the other side of the door.

“jaafar, wha—why are you here! he’s going to come back any—”

jaafar interrupted you with a kiss.

he grabbed your face with both of his hands, his fingers burying deep into your hair as his lips slammed onto yours.

it was a desperate, full of the terrifying adrenaline of this morning and the hunger he had been suppressing for months.

he backed away just an inch, his forehead lightly pressed against yours. “i don’t want to be without you for another second.”

you forced yourself to break the kiss, your hands pushing weakly against his chest as your eyes darted anxiously toward the elevator bank down the hall.

“j, this is extremely risky, you need to go.”

“i’m done hiding,” jaafar said, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “if you don’t tell him, i’m going to have to.”

“you wouldn’t do that, jaafar.”

“you have the choice to end it,” he countered, his voice dripping with a mix of frustration and heartbreak. “you keep procrastinating.”

“jaafar, please—”

“i don't feel like you want this as bad as i do.”

“j, i do, i’ve said it a thousand times,” you whispered frantically, the tears welling up in your eyes all over again as you gripped the folds of his jacket. “it’s just a lot right now. there’s so much happening.”

“but that’s why i'm here,” he urged, his hands sliding down to wrap firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “you’re not alone in this.”

“you don’t get it,” you choked out, looking down because you couldn't bear the intensity of his stare. “i can’t hurt him.”

“would you rather protect his feelings over—” you suddenly hear heavy footsteps echoing from the hallway outside, followed with the sound of the doorknob unlocking.

“hey babe. i’m back home…”

“holy fuck,” you whisper under your breath.

your stomach dropped through the floorboards.

jaafar didn't move an inch, his jaw setting instantly into a stubborn line as the heavy door swung wide open.

your boyfriend walked in, his keys jingling in his hand, a casual smile on his face that instantly froze the second his eyes adjusted to the living room.

you try and regain your composure, stepping out of jaafar's hold so fast your foot nearly slipped on the hardwood floor.

“hi baby, welcome back!” you blurted out, your voice a pitch too high, your hands smoothing down your oversized tshirt in a panicked, useless gesture.

your boyfriend stood in the entryway, his eyes darting from your red, puffy eyes straight to the towering figure of your colleague standing in the middle of your apartment.

“uhm, hello…jaafar, man—” he blinked, completely thrown off. “what’s going on? why are you here right now?”

“uh,” you stammer.

you look up at jaafar, silently begging him with your eyes not to explode, then look back to your boyfriend.

“we uh,” you both scramble to find an excuse.

“just talking,” jaafar cuts in, his voice remarkably smooth as his mask instantly snapped back into place.

his hands went into his pockets, though his shoulders remained entirely firm.

“just trying to figure out,” you echoed quickly, your mind racing a million miles an hour.

“work!” jaafar helped.

“yes, work!” you practically gasped.

your boyfriend looked between the two of you, his brow furrowing as he picked up on the tension vibrating through the air.

“huh. okay. well. is everything alright at least?”

“yes, everything is perfect! and jaafar was just leaving!”

you rushed to give jaafar his keys back, snatching it off the entryway table and practically shoving it into his chest.

using your body weight to push him toward the open entrance.

“stop,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a register so low that your boyfriend couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own keys hitting the counter.

jaafar’s hand clamped around your wrist for a fraction of a second, forcing you to look at him. “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“j, i’ll call you later. please just trust me,” you breathed, your eyes wide with a silent plea.

jaafar stared at you analyzing every line of fear on your face.

finally, he let go of your wrist and took a step back into the hallway.

“okay. uh,” jaafar muttered, clearing his throat as he adjusted his coat. “bye guys.”

“bye, jaafar,” your boyfriend said, his tone hesitant but polite as he watched him step out.

you immediately closed the heavy door, the lock clicking back into place with a terrifying completeness.

you stayed pressed against the wood, your eyes closed as you tried to stop your hands from shaking, knowing that the real nightmare was about to begin.

“baby,” your boyfriend's voice cuts through your thoughts.

“huh? yes?” you answer immediately, forcing yourself to turn around and pull your back away from the door.

he was standing in the center of the living room, his jacket unzipped halfway, looking at you with a heavy, unblinking intensity.

the casual confusion from a moment ago was completely gone, replaced by a probing skepticism.

“why was he here? and why are you being so suspicious?”

“what do you mean? i told you we were talking about work,” you said, your voice wavering slightly despite your best efforts to sound casual.

“okay yeah, you’re saying that, but the both of you were being awkward.”

“no we weren’t? it was nothing, just a five minute conversation.”

“that he had to be in the house for?”

you stayed silent.

your brain is completely misfiring as you try to find a logical explanation.

but that didn't exist.

“i get that you two might be close,” your boyfriend continued, crossing his arms over his chest, “but where’s the respect for me?”

“i have respect for you, what are you talking about?”

“well, when you have another man in the house, that’s pretty disrespectful—”

“oh my god! i just told you why he was here! just drop it,” you snapped, the absolute terror and stress of the morning finally boiling over into an outburst.

“watch your tone.” he inches closer.

the sudden change in his demeanor made your breath hitch.

his voice wasn't loud, but it was laced with an authority you rarely ever heard from him.

“excuse me?” you whispered.

“look, i’m pretty lenient with you,” he said, his boots thudding heavily against the floor as he took another step toward you, crowding your space.

“but i just came back from a shitty ass shift. you didn’t call once, text me, absolutely nothing. then i come home and jaafar is here early morning with his hand on your waist.”

“it wasn’t like th—”

“do not lie to me!” he yells.

the volume of his voice shattered the quiet apartment, the sound bouncing off the walls.

you flinched violently, your heart leaping straight into your throat as your eyes instantly filled with tears.

“why are you being like this, you’re scaring me!” you cried, your voice breaking as you shrank back against the front door.

“because you are trying to make a fool out of me!” he roared, slamming his open palm down against the kitchen counter, the loud crack echoing like a gunshot.

“you think i’m stupid? tell me the fucking truth right now!”

“what the fuck has gotten into you!” you shrieked, the words tearing out of your chest as you covered your face, completely breaking down.

the violent slam against the marble counter echoed in your ears, left your entire body trembling.

you had never seen him like this.

but, there was no one left to blame but yourself.

he took another heavy step toward you, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face twisted in betrayal.

“what’s gotten into me?” he spat, his voice dropping into a harsh growl.

“i come home to my girlfriend looking like she’s about to faint, with some guy she works with, practically pressed against her and you’re asking me what’s wrong with me?”

“you’ve been acting weird for weeks! the late nights, the sudden work emergencies, the way you decline your calls when i’m in the room—it all makes sense now, doesn't it? it’s all fucking adding up.”

“it’s not what you think, please just calm down—” you begged through your sobs, sliding your back further down the wood of the front door, wishing you could just disappear.

“then tell me what it is!” he yelled again, looming over you. “look me in the eye and tell me you aren't fucking him!”

“stop it!” you screamed, trying to pull away, but he was too fast.

he grabs a hold of your wrists, pinning them between you, his grip tightening. “tell me now!”

“let me go, you’re hurting me!” you cried out, twisting your arms as the tears blurred your vision entirely.

the relentless banging at the door became nothing more than background noise against the nightmare playing out before your eyes.

“fucking answer me,” he demanded, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and furious against your skin.

“open the fucking door!” jaafar’s voice roared from the hallway.

he hadn't left, he had been waiting in the hall the entire time.

“i—i—” you stammered, your chest heaving so hard you could barely form a word, completely paralyzed by the terror of the moment.

“give me your phone,” he ordered, his eyes darting to your back pockets, his grip on your wrists shifting as he tried to forcibly search you.

“stop, i'm not doing this with you,” you sobbed, trying to kick your legs out to keep him back.

“yeah, i know exactly why,” he snarled, a bitter laugh escaping his throat that made your stomach drop to the floor.

he let go of one of your wrists just to point a finger directly at your face.

“his girlfriend called me on my way over.”

the air completely left your lungs.

jaafar’s ex.

she had actually done it. she had called him before jaafar could even pull his car into park.

“i know the fucking truth,” he roared, his voice cracking with unadulterated venom. “you’ve been fucking him behind my back.”

“oh my god,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath as the room spun.

“after everything i fucking did for you!” he yelled, his face turning red as he slammed his hand against the wall right next to your head, the impact vibrating through your skull.

“i worked those extra shifts, i supported you, i built a life with you, and you’re letting some rich bastard fuck you in our house? in our bed?!”

“i didn’t ask for all that,” you choked out, the defensive words slipping out of your mouth before you could even think.

“so that’s why you fucked him,” he spat, his eyes narrowing into slits of hatred.

“no, i—”

“how long.”

“i don’t—”

“stop with the fucking bullshit. how long?!” the words ripped from his throat, his face inches from yours, the veins in his neck pulsing violently.

“i don’t know! stop yelling at me!” you shrieked, covering your ears.

“open the door, let him in,” your boyfriend demanded, his voice dropped turning chillingly calm.

he wasn't looking at you anymore, his eyes were locked on the rattling doorknob.

“no, you’re not gonna touch him!” you cried, throwing your arms out to block the lock, terrified of the bloodshed that would happen the second that door opened.

“i’m not fucking asking you, open the goddam door!”

“no!”

“move,” he growled, and before you could even brace yourself, he grabbed your shoulder and shoved you forcefully out of the way.

you fall down hard.

your hip slammed into the corner of the entryway table, a sharp burst of pain shooting through your side before the hardwood floor caught the rest of you with a brutal thud.

the impact stole the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping soundlessly as you scrambled backward on trembling hands and knees, your wide eyes locked on him in pure horror.

your boyfriend didn't even look down at you.

his hand clamped onto the deadbolt, throwing it back and ripped the heavy door wide open.

jaafar stumbled in, his eyes immediately turning to you on the ground.

“oh baby,” he said, stepping toward you. he looked dangerous now, chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths as everything else in the room faded behind his focus on you.

your boyfriend tries to place a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“fuck off me, man,” jaafar snarled, ripping his shoulder away with a violent jerk that nearly threw your boyfriend off balance.

he didn't even give him a second glance as he kneels down to where you are on the hardwood floor. he takes your face in his hands, his thumbs sweeping over your burning cheeks.

his touch was incredibly gentle compared to the storm raging in his eyes.

his gaze darted down to where you had fallen, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle ticked violently in his cheek. “i swear i could fucking kill him.”

“ja—jaafar, just stop... don’t do—don’t do anything stupid,” you say between breaths, your hands clamping onto his wrists, trying to anchor him, trying your best to de-escalate the catastrophe that unfolded in your home.

jaafar wipes your tears off your face, he takes your hand and pulls you up from the floor.

shielding your body with his own the second you're on your feet.

“here, go to your room, princess,” he murmured, his voice dropped.

low and protective, the voice that usually always made you feel safe.

except right now, it felt like an invitation to a war.

“jaafar—” you begged, your voice cracking as you looked past his shoulder at your boyfriend, who was standing a few feet away.

“just trust me, okay?” jaafar whispered, giving your hand one firm, reassuring squeeze before gently nudging you toward the hallway.

he turned back around to face your boyfriend, stepping completely into the space between the two of you, cutting off his view of you entirely.

“you’re fucking with the wrong one.”

tags (message to be added or removed): @vict-oryy, @kianaajermajesty, @mimionspot, @ghettofabu05, @lilitheebaddest, @swavydadon, @4ppl3h34d, @mrsj4cks0n, @callmelyriic, @plan3tch1ld, @softchaosdiary505, @keiiate, @superduperawkwardcutie, @notepadgirl14, @sayyoulovemeziya, @cchampangemamii, @aristoleyaferrarii, @prettygirlwmula

it’s the quietest hours of the evening when the rest of the world feels like it’s on pause, and it’s just the two of you. you’d been wearing your hair in protective styles for as long as jaafar had known you. knotless braids, twists, different styled wigs, even sew ins.

every couple of weeks he watched you come home looking completely different, somehow managing to fall in love with every version of you all over again.

he’d watched you style it before, fascinated by the patience and the rhythm of your hands, but he had never actually seen it entirely free.

but, he never questioned it.

you started to become nervous because of that, not knowing what he was wondering in his head. whether he would look at you differently or not.

you’ve always loved your natural hair, never caring about the discourse or think pieces. it was completely and entirely yours, it was always a huge part of you.

you had already been together for a few months, he’s seen parts of you people didn’t even know you had. so, you weren’t really sure why you held off on sharing that part of yourself with jaafar.

tonight, it happened by accident.

you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, the last of the braids finally unraveled. your cheetah print rat tail comb was working through your roots, gently picking out the volume, letting your texture breathe and expand.

when the door clicks open, you don't think much of it, just looking up with a soft, tired smile as jaafar steps into the room. you’re exhausted at this point, not fully realizing what you’re doing.

“babe? oh there you are—”

he stopped right in his tracks, your hair wasn’t braided anymore. it wasn’t tucked away beneath a wig or laid flat under a scarf.

it was just you.

soft, full coils stretched toward the ceiling, creating the prettiest halo around your face. a few curls framed your cheeks while the rest sat proudly around your head.

his gaze locks onto you, his eyes widening in adoration. the room goes completely still for a second, the soft glow of the lamp catching the framing of your afro.

your hands instinctively reached for the front of your hair, fluffing it for maybe the fiftieth time. “babe, why are you staring at me like that?” 

jaafar blinked once before he crossed into the living room without saying a word, making your stomach twist. “what?”

he stopped right in front of you. “stop staring jaafar!” you laughed, a little more self conscious than you wanted to admit as your hands dropped into your lap.

he smiled, all small and absentminded, like he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. “okay! i’m sorry.”

except he kept looking, not because he was trying to make you nervous. but because he just liked looking at you.

he stepped closer until he was standing between your knees, one hand absentmindedly settling on your thigh.

“can i?” his hand hovered near your hair instead of reaching for it. you looked at him for a second before giving a tiny nod.

“mhm.”

his fingertips disappeared into your curls for only a moment, careful enough that it almost made you smile. he wasn’t trying to fluff them or play in them.

he just wanted to feel them.

he leaned down, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead before wrapping an arm loosely around your shoulders.

“you’ve been hiding all this from me?”

“don’t do too much,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “it’s literally been under my wigs.”

“still.” he looked at you again, unable to help himself.

“how long did this take you to take down?” he asks quietly, his thumb tracing your jawline now, his other hand still gently nestled in your hair.

“hours,” you mumbled, leaning your cheek into his palm. “my arms are literally dead.”

“…it’s soft.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“yeah?”

“mhm.” he smiled to himself. “looks good on you.”

you rolled your eyes. “it always looked good on me.”

“i know.”

he answered so quickly it made you pause.

“i’m just saying…” his thumb brushed gently against one of your combed out curls before letting it spring back into place. “i’ve only ever imagined what your hair looked like.”

“and? did it meet your expectations?” you say fluffing the ends out with your acrylic nails.

he smiled.

“nah.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

“looks better.”

“i think you look absolutely gorgeous, exceeding my expectations.” his large hands gently catching your wrists, pulling your hands away from your head just enough to hold them.

you knew this was different for jaafar, he’d never really been around the true reality of natural hair before, and a tiny part of you wondered if he’d see you any differently once he had.

“you're not just saying that? it's different.” 

“yess my baby, i don’t know why you don’t wear it out like this all the time.”

“it’s a lot of work,” you sighed

“my hairs super fragile so it’s easier to just put it up and away.”

“but, you have carried it out, before me?”

“yeah, i had it out a little more often.”

“so then what can i do to make the work less for you? let’s start there,” his voice softened completely.

“since you’re asking sooo nicely, you can start by helping me clean this living room up and helping me washing my hair!” you hop up off the couch, taking both his hands and lifting him up to join you.

“mmm,” he leans down and presses a kiss on your lips, “okay, deal m’lady.”

you push him gently and giggle, “stop you’re so corny!”

“you’re fucking with the wrong one,” jaafar huffed, his shoulders expanding as he shifted his weight, completely towering over your boyfriend's space.

your boyfriend looked jaafar up and down, a bitter, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he tried to mask the fear rolling off his body.

“what am i supposed to be scared of you?” he said, his voice shaky.

“did you put your hands on her?” jaafar’s voice was dangerously quiet, his eyes dropping for a fraction of a second to the floor where you had just been laying, before snapping right back up.

“wow,” your boyfriend breathed, shaking his head.

“answer the fucking question.”

“y’know what, i’m sick and tired of you both acting all fucking high and mighty, knowing the shit you guys were doing in the dark,” your boyfriend yelled, his voice cracking.

jaafar took a half step closer, his chest practically brushing against your boyfriend’s.

the air in the room felt ready to combust. “did you put your fucking hands on my girl?”

your boyfriend scoffed, looking at jaafar like he was insane. “what the hell are you gonna do, jackson?”

jaafar’s jaw clenched so hard the bone looked like it was about to pop out. he let out a slow breath, trying to contain his patience.

“see, if it wasn’t for her,” he drawled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying restraint, “i’d fuck you up, right here right now.”

“but because i love and respect her—”

“love? how can you love a fucking slut?”

well.

that lasted for a second, jaafar didn't even let him finish the sentence.

a loud crack echoed through the penthouse as jaafar's fist collided straight with your boyfriend's nose.

the force of the blow sent him stumbling backward, his boots sliding against the hardwood floor until his back hit the kitchen island with a heavy thud.

his hands flew to his face, blood instantly leaking through his fingers.

“jaafar, stop!” you shrieked from the hallway, your body shaking so violently you had to grip the doorframe just to stay upright.

“are you going to keep running your bitch ass mouth? or are you going to listen to what i have to say?” jaafar asked, his voice deadpan, his grip on your boyfriend’s collar never loosening for a second.

your boyfriend spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor, his eyes locking onto you hiding in the hallway.

he wiped the blood that dripped on his chin, glaring at jaafar with pure hatred. “i’m calling the fucking cops.”

“okay, you can do that. but don’t forget, i have the money.” jaafar shoves a finger into your boyfriends chest, forcing him back a step. “you don’t.”

“and i promise you when they figure that out they could give less of a fuck about what i did to you.”

“so, here’s what we are going to do,” jaafar continued, his corporate cadence returning as his hands joined together in front of his thighs.

“you can ‘a’, call the cops, they come and i tell them that you put your filthy hands on my woman, completely unprovoked.”

the body of the man in front of jaafar retracted when he heard ‘my woman.’ his shoulder dropping as the reality of the situation fully sank in.

jaafar placed a hand on his shoulder, “or you can ‘b’ get the shit that you just walked in with, and go on about your life.”

“fuck you jaafar,” he shoves jaafar's hand off him, his movements sloppy compared to jaafar's composure.

he then looks at you again, “so what? you’re just going to choose him because he told you he loved you and you believed him?”

“don’t talk to her, talk to me.” jaafar barked, stepping to the side to block his view of you again.

“you think you won, bud.” he laughed bitterly, he laughed bitterly, a line of dark blood wiping across his teeth. “when she gets bored she’s just going to do the same exact shit to you.”

“well she won’t have a weak ass, sorry excuse of a man as her boyfriend anymore, so i highly doubt that.” 

“she knows she’s good over here.”

jaafar’s smile was entirely humorless, his eyes narrowing. “but you can’t even take care of a woman, let alone defend yourself.”

“she doesn’t even—” your boyfriend tried to shoot back, his voice cracking as his defenses completely crumbled, the humiliation burning bright in his cheeks.

“i don’t give a fuck,” jaafar cut him off flatly, pointing a steady, unbothered finger directly at the front door.

your boyfriend then points a finger at you, “i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

“i told you to stop fucking talking to her,” jaafar said, his tone dropping an octave, becoming something lethal.

“you can’t tell me shit,”

“the both of you are done for.” he barked back.

“say one more thing to her, i’ll fucking kill you.” jaafar pushes him, his hand slamming into your boyfriend's chest hard enough to make his heels skid backward across the floor. “you’re not ruining shit, can’t even throw a punch back.” 

“you can touch a woman, but when it’s a man it’s different?” jaafar taunted, a cruel smirk cutting across his jaw as he watched him stumble.

jaafar wiped his hands on his jacket like he had just touched wet paint, “exactly what i thought,”

your boyfriend didn’t move an inch. he stood there completely frozen against the wall.

“trash,” jaafar muttered, his voice dripping with disgust.

he stepped in even closer, “if you come around here again,” jaafar whispered.

“i will personally make sure you never find another job, another place to live, or a piece of mind for as long as you’re living in this city.”

the corporate like facade was completely gone now, replaced by the authority of a man who knew exactly how much power he held in his hands.

and exactly how easily he could use it to destroy someone.

“try me.”

“whatever man,” he muttered, his voice barely a squeak as his pride completely shattered.

he grabbed his work bag off the counter, scrambling to scoop up his keys with shaking hands, and bolted out the front door without looking back once.

the heavy wood door slammed shut behind him, the click of the lock echoing through the quiet of the apartment.

jaafar stood in the center of the entryway for a long second, his broad back to you, his shoulders rising and falling in heavy, jagged breaths.

“shit,” his dress shirt crumpled and stained with a few drops of dark blood. the adrenaline that had been driving him for the last hour seemed to slowly bleed out of him, leaving him looking completely exhausted.

slowly, he turned around, his eyes instantly searching the hallway until they landed on you.

safe to say you were wet as fuck.

listening to him claim you so shamelessly as his woman. seeing his protective power, how there wasn’t a trace of hesitation in him.

how every instinct he had pointed toward you, toward protecting you, like nothing else in the room mattered anymore.

that definitely had a heavy ache pooling deep between your thighs.

jaafar let out a long breath, his chest settling as he took a slow step toward the hallway, his boots clicking softly against the floor. 

the dangerous edge in his eyes melted away the second he looked at you, replaced by an overwhelming, soft concern.

“you okay, princess?” he murmured.

“mhm,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless as you stepped out of the shadow of the hallway.

you reached out, taking his hand in yours to examine it. your fingers felt small against his large palm as you turned his hand over, tracing the reddening skin across his knuckles.

“it’s bruised,” you murmured, your thumb gently brushing just under.

“don’t worry about me baby,” he whispered, his other hand coming up to cup the side of your face.

he leaned down, placing a quick but gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a beat.

he let out a sigh, his forehead dropping down to rest against yours as his thumb wiped away the very last trace of a tear from your cheek.

“that’s not how i wanted it to go,” you whispered, your eyes casting over the empty entryway.

“i know, my girl,” jaafar murmured, his deep voice soothing against your ear. “but it’s done and that’s all that matters.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, wrapping his long arms entirely around your frame and pulling you tight against his chest.

the scent of his cologne, mixed with the faint, metallic hint of sweat, completely enveloped you.

“okay,” you sighed into his shirt.

“can i ask you a question?” he asked, his chest vibrating against yours as he spoke.

“yeah?”

“has he ever put his hands on you before today?”

the question hung heavily in the air. you stay silent, leaving his arms and looking down at the floor, your fingers suddenly tangling in the fabric of your sweatshirt.

and after what you just saw, you do not want jaafar to end up killing this man.

“uhm, no,” you muttered, but the hesitation in your voice was too loud.

jaafar squints his eyes, his entire posture stiffening up again in a quarter of a second. “huh.”

“don’t. just drop it jaafar,” you move past him, wanting nothing more than to escape the intensity of his gaze.

“i didn’t say anything,” he countered, though his jaw was clenched tight.

“i know what you’re thinking,” you walk into your kitchen, trying to find something else to look at, but jaafar followed you right into the space, his shadow rising over the counter.

your eyes landed on the mess by the island. “ugh, all this blood on my floor.” you throw your head back with a groan.

“leave it, i will clean it.” he dismissed flatly, his focus entirely on your face.

“cmere baby,” he reached out for your hand, his large fingers gently locking with yours and pulling you right back into his space.

his face softened, “i’m sorry for cussing at you earlier over the phone,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours with total sincerity. “and i'm sorry for getting frustrated with you, and raising my voice.”

he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“it’s okay,” you move closer to him, the remaining tension finally melting out of your shoulders.

to be honest you forgot about that exchange, but it felt good to know it was weighing on his mind. it felt good to know he cared that much about how he treated you.

“you just deserve the world,” he muffles into your hair, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his arms anchoring you firmly against his waist. “and i’m going to give it to you.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” you giggled softly, your fingers tracing the damp curls at the back of his neck. you pulled back just enough to look at him. “so what’s gonna happen now?”

“well, i have to take you out officially, correct?” a lazy, genuine smile finally touched the corners of his lips, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

“we’ve been out before,” you teased.

“but this time we won’t be in secret.”

the thought of it sent a thrill straight through your chest, but reality quickly pushed its way back in. “do you think she really called the board?”

“that’s another thing, i’ll figure it out.” jaafar didn't even blink, his tone perfectly confident. “don’t worry about a thing, i got you.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you looked at his knuckles. “i love how you’re so comfortable when you just assaulted someone.”

“well, he deserved it,” jaafar shrugged, a smirk cutting across his jaw line as he pulled you even tighter against his thighs. “kept talking about my woman.”

“mhm,” you hummed, sliding your arms around his neck and leaning up. “your woman.”

“i love you jaafar,” you whispered against his skin.

he paused as if he was surprised to hear that from you right now. his whole body went entirely still for a second, his dark eyes widening slightly.

“i love you so much,” he responded.

his hands slid up from your waist, his large palms cupping your face.

“thank you, for everything,” you murmured, looking up into his softened features.

you pull him by his neck into a genuine deep kiss.

jaafar groaned softly into your mouth, his lips parting as he claimed you completely, pouring every ounce of his relief and his devotion into the kiss.

his fingers tangled deep into your hair, anchoring you to him so tightly that there wasn't a single inch of space left between your bodies.

it was a slow, heavy, promise of what was to come. now that there was no one left to lie to.

a part of you feels a bit guilty, scared that it’ll all catch up to you.

jaafar slowly pulls away from the kiss, his lips lingering against yours for one last beat before you guys hug, burying your faces into each other's shoulders.

“let me clean this mess up,” he murmured into your hair, his large hands rubbing soothing circles down your back before he finally let you go.

he looked over at the stained hardwood floor, his face returning to that unbothered expression.

“okay, i’m gonna finish these emails then go take a shower,” you replied, giving his uninjured hand a gentle squeeze.

“you gonna wait for me?” jaafar questioned, his tone condescending as a teasing smirk crept up his face.

“boy,” you giggle while slapping his chest, the playful hit doing absolutely nothing to move his frame.

“i’ll think about it,” you throw over your shoulder, turning around to walk toward the bedroom with a deliberate sway in your hips.

“mmmm so that’s what we are doing now?” jaafar’s deep voice trailed after you, low and rumbling with amusement.

you could practically hear the predatory smile in his words as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you walk away. “okay, i see.”

another part of you questioned if you guys were insane for being so completely okay despite what the hell had just happened.

your living room was a crime scene of broken glass, spilled blood, and shattered relationships, yet the air between you and jaafar felt lighter than it had in months.

but what would caring do for you now? freaking out wouldn't undo the past, and for the first time, you felt entirely protected.

after you shut the door to your room, jaafar exhaled a heavy breath and began to move, setting out to sort the mess of the apartment.

he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of disinfectant from under the sink, his mind already shifting gears back to reality.

suddenly, his phone started vibrating aggressively against the granite countertop.

he picked it up, flipping it over.

Director Robinson - Chief Human Resources Officer, the screen read.

he stared at the screen for a moment.

jaafar stared at the flashing caller ID for a long moment, his jaw tightening as the corporate world he thought he had left at the door came crashing back in.

“oh, my fuck,” he muttered underneath his breath.

he swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear, his voice instantly dropping into his flawless, unshakeable professional register. “mr. jackson.”

“hello, director. what can i do for you?”

“well, mr. jackson, since 6:48 this morning, i have received some very heated phone calls. i am assuming, based on the nature of the complaints, they would know you personally.”

jaafar glanced up at the microwave clock. it was only 8:34 AM.

meaning your exes had been burning up the HR hotline since the exact moment jaafar left his own house.

“phone calls about what, exactly?” jaafar asked, his tone perfectly flat, giving away absolutely nothing.

“mr jackson…or jaafar, just so we speak carefully here... you are a very wise young man, and i personally enjoy having the opportunity to work alongside yo—”

“director, not to interrupt you or be disrespectful,” jaafar cut in, his voice shifting from polite colleague to a commanding executive in a fraction of a second.

“but i have an extremely busy schedule today, and i have not even stepped foot into the office yet.”

he stood over the stained hardwood floor, throwing the blood soaked paper towels into the trash with his uninjured hand.

“what is this about?”

“i think we should have a meeting,” director robinson sighed on the other end, his voice laced with the heavy anxiety of a man caught between a rock and a hard place. “the three of us. you, myself, and the vice president.”

the mention of your title made jaafar’s grip on the phone tighten. robinson knew exactly who was involved, and because of your family's massive leverage over the company, the chief of HR was practically sweating through his suit trying not to step on any toes.

“mr. robinson, i do not want to have to ask you again,” jaafar said, his voice dropping into a menacing register that brooked absolutely no argument. “please.”

a heavy, tense silence stretched across the line. robinson swallowed hard, the faint sound of him clearing his throat echoing through the receiver.

“jaafar, former personal relationships have both submitted formal complaints detailing an inappropriate, undisclosed relationship between yourself and the vice president. they are threatening to go public, go to the press.

“and they've already leaked a few details about a clear conflict of interest in executive decision making regarding the latest board presentations.” robinson finally confessed, dropping the formalities completely.

jaafar’s expression didn't change, but his eyes turned completely black, his gaze fixing on the closed bedroom door where you were finishing your emails.

“what? a conflict of interest in executive decision making?” jaafar repeated, his voice smooth. “the vice president runs those presentations because her name is practically on the building, director. she doesn't need my permission to lead a board meeting.”

“i know that, and you know that,” robinson pleaded, his tone desperate. “but on paper, an undisclosed executive relationship looks terrible for the optics, especially with her family on the board. i am trying to contain this before it reaches her father's desk, but my hands are tied if you both do not cooperate.”

jaafar leaned his hip against the kitchen island, his grip tightening on the edge. the threat of your father getting involved was the only thing that could truly complicate this, but jaafar wasn't a man who panicked.

he was a man who only eliminated obstacles.

“my cooperation isn't the issue here, robinson,” jaafar said, his tone dropping. “your compliance is. you’re going to kill those complaints, and you’re going to do it before lunch.”

“jaafar, i can’t just—”

“listen to me very carefully,” jaafar interrupted, completely freezing the HR director on the other end. “this is malicious defamation targeting the vice president of our company.”

he pauses, “if a single word of this reaches the press, or her father’s desk, i will not hesitate to dismantle their careers but—”

“i will hold you personally responsible for a failure to protect executive security.”

“do you understand me?” jaafar demanded.

“y-yes, mr. jackson,” robinson stammered, completely folding under the weight of the threat. 

“but please understand, they are incredibly persistent. your ex partners... they are working together on this. it's a coordinated effort from both of them, and they are leveraging everything they think they know.”

“this is becoming serious, mr jackson.”

jaafar’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked fiercely in his cheek. it was a pathetic, desperate revenge plot.

“they have no evidence, robinson,” jaafar stated, his voice turning into ice. “they have rumors, bruised egos, and a thin paper trail of desperate assumptions.”

“you are going to tell them that any further contact with our HR department, or any member of the press, will be met with an immediate, multi million dollar lawsuit from our legal team.”

“i... i can do that,” robinson swallowed hard. “i will draft a formal warning and reject the compliance filing immediately. it won't leave my office.”

“good,” jaafar muttered, his eyes fixed on the hallway. “make sure it doesn't. because if i have to handle this myself, director, my methods won't be nearly as diplomatic as a lawsuit.”

without waiting for a reply, jaafar hung up the phone.

he tossed it onto the kitchen island, the sleek device sliding across the stone. his face was a mask of cold calculation.

he didn’t even give a fuck about the phone call, or the complaint.

he didn’t even give a fuck that this could ruin his own reputation.

but they wanted to play games with your career?

they were about to find out exactly who he was.

“so much fucking shit,” jaafar muttered to the empty kitchen. he ran a hand over his face, breathing out deeply as he tried to  wash the venom out of his system.

he made his way down the hall to your room, the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he turned the doorknob.

he found you sitting at your vanity, completely locked into your laptop screen. you were still wearing your oversized hoodie, your hair tied up, and your reading glasses perched right on the bridge of your nose.

something about the sight of you looking so soft, so professional, and so entirely his set off a sudden warmth in his chest.

“hey,” he said softly, leaning his tall frame against the doorframe.

you blinked, looking up from your screen. “hi, what’s wrong?”

“nothing, i’m good. don’t worry,” he lied smoothly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “uhm—im going to have to head into the office sooner than i thought.”

he walked over, standing right behind your chair and letting his hands rest heavily on your shoulders.making eye contact through your vanity mirror. his thumbs began to dig circles into your tense muscles.

“can the emails wait a little so we can shower?” he murmured, his voice dropping into that suggestive tone catching his eyes dropping to your chest.

you turned around to face him, peeking at him through your reading glasses, looking him up and down before a knowing smile tugged at your mouth. “you’re not slick.”

“what are you talking about,” he laughs innocently, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he flashed you a look of pure mischief.

“okay, let’s go shower,” you gave in, closing your laptop with a soft click and sliding your glasses off. “you’re still going to be late anyways.”

jaafar didn't waste a single second. he caught your hand the moment you stood up, as he guided you toward the master bathroom. he turned on the shower, and the bathroom slowly filled with the soft rush of water, steam starting to curl against the mirror 

stripping out of his ruined button down and letting it hit the tile floor while his eyes stayed locked on you. his hands moved with efficiency as he maintained eye contact, slipping your hoodie over your head and tossing it onto the floor. 

he unclipped your bra and slid your shorts down your legs in one slick motion, his eyes trailing every single inch of skin he exposed until you were completely bare before him.

the focus in his gaze made you feel hotter than the steam rising from the shower. the moment you stepped in, the heat hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the way his hands felt as they gripped your waist, pulling you back into his space.

“i need you,” he sank down to his knees right there on the wet porcelain of the tub. the water streamed over his curls and running down the sharp lines of his face.

he didn't say another word, but the way his thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs was completely worshipful. when he pulled you closer, his mouth found you, his tongue mocking a tempo that had your knees instantly going weak.

you buried your fingers deep into his wet hair, tilting your head back against the marble wall as the heat of his breath and the drag of his lips drove you crazy.

he knew exactly what he was doing, taking his time, drinking all of you until you could only whimper his name into the stream, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

before you could completely fall apart, jaafar stood up towering over you in the close space. his skin was glistening, dripping with water as he turned you around to face the wall.

his large palms flattened against the wall on either side of your head, pinning you there, his chest pressing heavy and warm against your back.

"look at me baby," he growled against your ear.

you peeked over your shoulder, already biting down on your lip. jaafar lifted one of your legs, your hole clenching on air. his grip hard against your thigh as he pressed your plush ass against him and drove inside with a deep thrust.

you couldn’t contain the noise that came from your mouth, his hips snapping against you in a punishing rhythm that echoed over the sound of the rushing water.

“hmph–shittt, baby i can’t–take,” his hands shifted down to grip your hips, pulling you back against his chest with an absolute authority that reminded you exactly who he was. 

jaafar groaned against the nape of your neck, “if you take your eyes away from me again, i’ll stop.”

you could only arch your back, your hand quickly banging against the cold wall as all the built up pressure got the best of him.

jaafar’s hand met your chin, forcibly lifting your head, pulling you flush against his chest.

“im s–sorry. please.don’t.stop jaafar! oh please!” the abuse to your gspot made a breathless gasp catch in your throat. every single hit landing perfectly, leaving you completely trembling against the wall.

his breaths fanning over your neck with every ruthless stroke until the entire bathroom blurred into nothing but heat and the sound of jaafar absolutely just letting you have it.

he stuck two digits into your mouth, “suck.” you didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around his fingers looking up at him, and sucking down hard, the taste of the shower water and his skin mixing on your tongue.

the hot water kept hammering down on both of your faces, but neither of you cared, the pace he was setting making it impossible to focus on anything else.

jaafar let out a growl from the back of his throat, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip as you sucked his fingers, his lower half completely imprinting itself inside you with a relentless speed.

you would’ve thought he was mad at you.

he was entirely in his head now, all he could think about was how he just wanted to consume every single part of you until you couldn't even remember your own name.

“that’s it,” he whispered thickly against your ear, his voice sounding completely wrecked. “that’s my good girl.”

the friction inside you was getting too much. the familiar, tight knot coiling at the bottom of your stomach that threatened to engross you. your vision was swimming, the marble of the shower blurring together as your legs started to shake violently under his weight.

he felt the exact moment your walls started to grip tighter around him. “mmh–pussy so good,” jaafar gripped your hips even harder, his fingers digging into your skin to restrain you as he delivered his last unforgiving thrusts that hit so deep you could feel it in your chest.

“oh fuck!” you completely lost it, a muffled cry swallowing his fingers as your orgasm hit you in crashing waves.

just seconds later, jaafar stiffened behind you with a loud groan, his hips tightly against your ass, as he came inside you.

“fuck jaafar, you’re gonna get me pregnant,” you say, catching your breath as the water rinses the slick heat from your thighs. “don’t you remember? i’m not on birth control.”

he pulls out slowly, still dragging out heavy breaths as he leans his forehead against the wet wall for a second. “what?”

“you know this.”

“yeah, that was like last year though. thought you got it sorted.” he reaches over, taking the loofah and pumping body wash onto it.

“why would you say it like that? 'sorted'...” you mumble, turning slightly as he gently begins to scrub your shoulders, his touch surprisingly soft compared to how he just handled you. 

“wait, so... how does that work? we’ve been going unprotected for a minute.”

“yeah, but you only just started… you know,” you made a gesture with your hands.

“cumming inside you?” he replied, his voice entirely too blunt.

“yes. now turn around,” you say, slapping his chest to try and avoid the sudden wave of embarrassment hitting your face. even though he’s seen and felt every single part of you, the vulnerable moments of showering together always made you a little nervous.

“no, i’m not done with you yet,” jaafar complains, dodging your hand and pulling you back by your waist. “let me just finish your back.”

he runs the soapy loofah down your spine, but his mind is clearly still working through the math. “so let’s say, we take a test...” he starts again.

“jaafar, stop.”

“you brought it up.”

“barely.” you reach around, trying to take the loofah from his hands to finish the job yourself.

“just listen. we take a test, just to be safe,” he insists, keeping his grip on the sponge. “i don't understand how you aren't pregnant.”

“pure luck. god is on my side.”

“don’t bring him into this,” jaafar grunts, a small smirk cutting through his serious expression. “he had nothing to do with what we just did in here, girl.”

you quiet down for a second, the steam suddenly feeling a little suffocating as an ugly thought pops into your head. you think about his ex. you think about the fact that they were together right up until recently.

“wait,” you say, your voice dropping all the playfulness. “did you guys have unprotected sex?”

jaafar pauses, the loofah stopping against your lower back. he looks around the shower stall for a second, realizing he's cornered. “i’m not going to lie to you. we were.”

your stomach drops. “jaafar—”

“but not as much,” he adds quickly.

“like that makes it fucking better, jaafar!” you snap, shoving his chest away from you.

“so what, you fucking came in her too? what if she’s pregnant?”

“no, i barely did. only a couple of times.”

“it takes one time to make a baby!”

“obviously not,” he mutters, reaching out and pinching your cheek to try and break the tension. the heat in your chest has nothing to do with the water anymore. 

“how do you know she doesn’t have an STD and you just gave it to me?”

jaafar's expression darkens, “you think i’d do that to you?”

“i don’t fucking know.”

“what’s with the attitude?”

“i don’t have one. i’m done, you can take your shower,” you say sharply. you grab the handle and crack the shower door open, the sudden shock of the cool air hitting your wet skin.

“baby wa—”

you don't even let him finish. you grab your towel off the rack and slide right out of the shower, leaving him standing alone in the steam.

behind you, the steady hiss of the water abruptly cuts out. the sudden silence in the bathroom is deafening.

jaafar pauses for a fraction of a second before pushing the glass door wide open. he doesn't even bother grabbing a towel for himself.

he just steps out onto the bath mat, dripping wet, casting a shadow over you as you try to walk toward your closet.

“why are you walking away when we are talking?” his voice is too quiet.

you don’t answer him, keeping your back turned as you furiously blink.

“babe.”

“jaafar, you said you had to be at the office early, so get ready and go there,” you say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it cold. you keep your focus locked on a random hanger in your closet, refusing to look at him.

“no—fuck the office right now,” he snaps, stepping directly into your line of sight. he closes the distance between you. “where’s this all coming from?”

you look up at him, the hurt bursting through your defenses. “you just admitted to having sex with us both unprotected! i’m so fucking stupid, jaafar. i never even thought about questioning you. i trusted you blindly while you were out here playing with my body and my health.”

“i was in a fucking relationship with her. what did you want me to do?” jaafar countered, his jaw tight as he followed you into the bedroom.

“to be honest with me? i could have something and not even know.”

“you don’t, i swear to you. i’m tested, she was tested… i don’t play with stuff like that,” he said, voice lowering, trying to pull you back to him. “especially when it comes to you. so why would i even take that risk?”

“i don’t know jaafar, i don’t know why you do a lot of things.” you pulled a pair of clothes from the hanger, refusing to look at him. “excuse me, i need to get past, please.”

“why are you talking to me like that?” he didn’t budge, blocking the closet exit. “i don't understand why you’re just now bringing it up.”

“because it’s a genuine concern! what happens if she misses her period? exactly. what are you going to do? huh? what’s going to happen to us?”

the words tasted bitter on your tongue, a messy mix of guilt, jealousy, and fear suddenly consuming your mind.

“baby, i need you to trust me. nothing will happen because she’s not pregnant.”  jaafar sighed heavily, turning to grab a pair of boxers and pulling them on.

“i’m trying to explain myself and you’re doing everything but listening.”

“jaafar, i’m done. i don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you look up at him, clothes full in your arms. “i need to get ready.”

“do you think this is fair?” he asked, his voice hardening as he finally moved, grabbing a clean shirt. “all of a sudden questioning my loyalty towards you?”

you pushed past him, letting out a dry laugh, “please. let’s talk about loyalty, you were fucking me while in a whole relationship.”

“so were you! what are you even saying to me right now?!” jaafar snapped, buttoning up the shirt. “how the fuck would you know if he had an STD and passed that shit to you?”

“because i didn’t FUCK him, jaafar! that’s how.”

the bedroom went completely dead silent. jaafar stopped moving, his eyes locking onto yours. he let out a low, disbelieving tut. “so you’re saying, that whole relationship... you didn’t touch him once?”

“nope, not once. told him i wasn’t ready.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

“i don’t believe you,” he said flatly.

“i don’t care if you do or don’t.”

at this point, you both were fully clothed. this whole argument had occurred in the blur of getting ready, the tension in the room so thick it felt physical. you turned your back to him to fix your hair in the mirror, but you could see his reflection moving.

“mhm,” he nodded, inching closer until he was standing right behind you. “i know you better than anyone, and i know that you can’t have gone through a relationship for a year without fucking him.”

you spun around, ready to test him, matching his energy completely. “i could. you know why?”

“why?” he asked, stepping back a fraction and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting.

“because you were all i needed. i didn’t need him for shit, never even thought about it,” you said, stepping right into his space, getting dead in his face.

“hm.” jaafar inched even closer, completely towering over you until your mouths were almost touching. the proximity was dizzying, his dark gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. 

“but you can’t say the same, can you?” 

“nope, we aren’t doing this. we aren’t going to be like this,” he murmured.

“you can’t even answer me, jaafar.”

“listen to me,” he said, his tone shifting as he brought his large, warm hands up to cup your face gently. his thumbs stroked your cheekbones, forcing you to look at him. “last time you walk away from me when we are talking, hm?”

you tried to look away, but his grip was firm.

“and we are going to have productive conversations, like adults. no stupid arguments. and don’t say stupid things just because you're mad,” he instructed, his voice unyielding. “youre allowed to have your feelings, but you’re going to have to learn how to deal with them properly. i want this more than anything, so if it’s the last thing i do, i'm gonna make this work.”

you gulped hard, the intensity in his eyes making your lungs feel tight.

“you listening?”

you ignored him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“answer me, baby,” his voice softened tenfold.

“i don’t want to get you upset like this. it bothers me. but when you’re mad, just talk to me. we don’t need to argue. at all.”

his hands slid down from your cheeks, his palms wrapping around your neck, his thumbs resting against your jawline as he tilted your head up and pulled you to his lips. he kissed you deeply. his lips were soft, moving with so much intention that it made your knees feel weak all over again.

all the angry energy you had just seconds ago completely disappeared the moment your lips touched his. you melted into him, your hands instinctively coming up to grip his wrists.

slowly, you pulled away, your forehead resting against his chest as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry, j.”

“we’re okay, princess.”

“i don’t mean to get like that, it’s just—” you swallowed hard, your vulnerability cutting you deep. “it’s just hard for me.”

he was the only person who could get you like this, he knew it too.

his arms came around your waist, locking you against him so tightly that the last lingering bits of space between you completely vanished.

he buried his face into the side of your neck.“i know it’s hard,” he murmured, his voice vibrating directly against your collarbone. “you think i don’t know what we’ve been through? you think i don’t know what it looks like?”

he pulled back just enough to look down at you, his thumb gently tracing the dark circles under your eyes that were usually covered by concealer.

“but you need to understand something,” he continued. “i don’t care about who i was with before, and i certainly don’t care about who was occupying your time while i was waiting to get you back.”

“none of that matters. what matters is that we are together now and that we love eachother. correct?” you nod up at him.

“so those two things are non-negotiable.”

“jaafar, if people start talking—”

“let them talk,” he interrupted smoothly, his jaw tightening for a second as the memory of director robinson’s frantic phone call flashed through his mind. he hadn't told you about the HR hotline lighting up yet. “what are they going to do to us? hm?”

he wasn't going to—not until he knew he could figure it out. you didn't need that stress on your plate.

“i’ll handle the noise. that’s my job. your job is to stay focused, keep leading your people to success, 0 hesitation, and just trust that i have everything else under control.”

he leaned down, pressing a lingering, warm kiss to your temple before finally letting his hands slide down to grip your fingers.

“now, we need to get to work. because we are so fucking late.”

“im definitely gonna hear it from my dad, oh my god.” you groan, as you look at the clock displaying on your lockscreen.“it’s all your fault jaafar,” you say, grabbing your perfume and giving yourself a quick spray before picking your heels up and beginning to walk out the bedroom door.

“i’ll take that,” he says, following close behind you, his long strides catching up easily. “but do you feel better?”

“yes,” you admit, the heavy weight that had been pressing on your chest since the shower finally lifting. you stop at the entryway, turning back to reach up and place a quick peck on his lips. “you’re amazing.”

he smiles, the genuine, soft expression completely transforming his face, and leans down to kiss you again. just to remind you of where you stood with him.

“i still can’t believe, the day has barley started,” he adds on, checking his watch as he opens the front door for you.

“it feels like we’ve lived through 6 years,” you respond, stepping out into the hallway.

jaafar lets out a quiet chuckle, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it. but as he slips his keys into his pocket, his face shifts for a split second.

you thought the day felt long already, but jaafar knew the real battle hadn't even started yet. robinson was waiting, your exes were playing a dangerous game, and he was about to end it all before lunch.

“ready to go, mr. jackson?” his driver asked politely.

his girlfriend had left nearly an hour before him, but jaafar had found every possible excuse to stay behind. he lingered long after the gala had ended, helping staff clear tables, stack chairs, and clean up the ballroom. 

anything to stretch out the night a little longer. anything to delay going back to her.

he takes a long drag of his whiskey, nodding his head.

“yes, let’s go.”

he gets up, smooths out his tuxedo as he thanks the hotel help and makes his way outside.

“mr jackson,” his driver hesitates for a second. “i am taking you to your apartment, right?”

jaafar sighs, he really wished he wasn’t. he wished he could just show up at yours, wished that it was him you were under.

like a forced reality, “uhm, yes sir. my place.”

the heavy cedar doors of his apartment clicked shut behind him, cutting off the distant hum of the city below. jaafar tossed his keys onto the marble table by the entryway. 

the metallic clatter bounced off the high ceilings, ringing louder than it should have in the silent penthouse apartment.

his head was still spinning with you, hours after the event had ended. your scent, the memory of your gold gown bunched up in his fist, and the absolute grip you had on his mind.

your faint perfume, the taste of your lipgloss.

your perfectly set makeup, your new french tip manicure you had done for the event. the gloss of your skin, making you radiant more than anyone else in the room.

his girlfriend’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

"hey. you're finally home."

his girlfriend stepped out from the bedroom, an intentional smile on her face. she had already changed out of her white silk dress and was wearing a sheer slip. 

she walked over, wrapping her arms around his neck, her floral perfume instantly invading his space.

it wasn't your heavy kay ali. it didn't even compare.

"missed you out there tonight," she murmured, leaning up to press her lips to his jawline, right where his skin was still burning from the adrenaline of the hallway. 

her hands slid down his chest, fingers working at the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. she was clearly in the mood.

jaafar stood entirely rigid, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. honestly? he really couldn’t be fucking bothered.

“mm really? i was with you the whole time.” he chuckled nervously.

his body was spent, his mind was completely preoccupied, and the thought of giving that kind of energy to anyone who wasn't you felt like an exhausting chore.

she playfully rolls her eyes, “i can still miss you.”

but jaafar was a master of keeping up appearances, even in his own apartment. he didn't have the stamina to argue.

"let's go to bed," he muttered, his voice flat, complete change from that feral growl he had used on you a couple hours prior.

he saw the way she tried to sway her hips, or how she tried to look at him with low eyes.

it was pissing him off because she couldn’t do it like you did. it make him sound evil, made him feel evil. but in this life there was only one thing he wanted, and he couldn’t have it.

the bedroom door clicked shut, the heavy silence of the penthouse settling over him like a suffocating blanket. 

jaafar shed his tailored navy suit jacket, tossing it over the back of the chair, his chest uncomfortably tight as he loosened his silk tie.

his girlfriend was already waiting for him in the center of the bed, her body framed by the soft, dim glow of the bedside lamp. she had changed into a black lace nightgown, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves as she shifted to look up at him. 

she reached out, her fingers catching the hem of his dress shirt as he crawled onto the mattress, pulling him down until her light, floral perfume completely filled his lungs.

"you've been so quiet all evening," she whispered, her hands sliding over his shoulders, trying to coax his heavy frame down into the pillows. 

"let me take care of you."

jaafar didn't say a word. he couldn't. 

he let his weight drop over her, his large hands settling on her waist to push her back against the sheets. he leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, but there was no spark behind it. it was practiced.

he knew exactly where to press his thumbs into her hips to make her breath hitch, exactly how to angle his jaw to give her the illusion of burning passion. 

she let out a soft, pleased sigh against his mouth, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she pulled him closer.

but as he slid the lace strap down her shoulder, his mind completely drifted.

his fingers traced the smooth, flawless skin of her thigh, and a sudden wave of irritation hit him because it wasn't the soft, deep toned skin he was utterly obsessed with. 

there were no fresh, purple bruises under his fingers. there were no dark marks for his thumbs to intentionally press into. he closed his eyes, trying to force the image of your bare body out of his head, but his brain refused to cooperate.

"jaafar..." she murmured, her legs parting for him, her body completely ready.

he didn't wait. he pulled his dress pants down, freeing his thick length, and with one smooth drive, he pushed himself inside her.

she let out a soft gasp, her fingers digging into his back as he began to establish a steady pace. she was alright, she was wet, and she was doing everything right. 

but it didn't satisfy him. not even close. every stroke felt completely empty, an exercise of his muscles rather than the passion he had experienced just hours before.

this wasn’t working for him.

he kept his eyes shut tight in the darkness, the friction of the sheets against his skin feeling completely dull.

“fuck far’,” his girlfriend cried out.

when she cried out, the sound didn't make his blood boil with possessive rage. it just sounded loud in the quiet room.

 it wasn't the shattered, high pitched wail you make when he bottoms out. it wasn't the breathless begging that made him lose every ounce of his sanity.

he needed more, he needed you.

you’re the only image that popped up when he tried to look at her. jaafar increased his pace, his thrusts turning harder, shorter, desperately trying to find a spark of genuine friction to bring him to the edge. 

“shit,” he groaned quietly.

he used her body as if she was you. as if your skin was over hers. his girlfriend matched his movements, her breathing turning ragged as she peaked beneath him, her inner walls clenching around his shaft in a soft, natural release.

he didn’t even realize what he was doing until he came inside of her. jaafar let out a silent, empty grunt before his body shuddered. 

he released a thick wave of his heat inside her, his forehead dropping against her shoulder as he exhaled a ragged breath.

but there was no warmth in his chest. it felt like eating ash when he was starving for gold.

first time in months having sex with this woman made him finish.

and it wasn't even really her. 

the second his breathing leveled out, jaafar pulled out of her, the sudden coldness hitting his skin as he rolled off her side. his girlfriend smiled softly, completely content as she curled into the pillows, her eyes already heavy with sleep.

"i love you," she mumbled into the dark, her arm reaching out to drape across his chest.

jaafar stared blankly at the ceiling, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscle leaped in his cheek. he didn't answer. 

he just waited until her breathing turned deep and steady before carefully lifting her wrist off his skin, turning his back to her completely as he stared out into the dark penthouse.

the next morning, the harsh daylight broke through the floor to ceiling blinds, bright and unforgiving.

jaafar’s eyes snapped open at 6:30 am on the dot, no alarm. his girlfriend was still fast asleep beside him, one of her arms draped heavily across his chest.

he stared at her arm, feeling a sudden, suffocating wave of irritation. the ghost of his own release from last night felt entirely toxic now, like a stain he couldn't scrub off. 

he carefully lifted her wrist off his skin and rolled out of bed, grabbing a silk robe and walking out to the massive glass windows overlooking the city.

all he could do was think about you.

his brain was running a non stop loop of your face in that dark room.

the way your lips looked swollen and wrecked, the way you had tried to act tough by throwing your boyfriend in his face, only to completely shatter the second he laid a hand on your neck. 

he thought about the heavy, dark purple bite mark he left right by your collarbone, wondering if you were currently in front of your own mirror trying to cake heavy concealer over it while your man asked what you wanted for breakfast.

and then, your voice from last night echoed in his head.

“he’s my boyfriend, he actually loves me jaafar.”

the words hit his chest entirely differently in the quiet morning light. when you had said it against the door, it had just made him angry, made him want to consume you until you forgot anyone else existed. 

but now, sitting with it in the quiet, a strange ache opened up right behind his ribs. he had told you he was greedy. he had told himself this was just about control, about having the prettiest girl in the room, about a toxic craving he couldn't shake. 

but as he watched the morning traffic crawl through the streets below, the truth started to feel a lot heavier. if it was just lust, he wouldn't feel this sick realization that you were currently lying in bed with another man. 

if it was just a quick fuck, he wouldn't have spent the night feeling entirely empty after using another woman's body just to get a glimpse of you. 

he didn't just want your body. he wanted your mornings. he wanted the version of you that didn't have to hide or wear a mask.

he was completely, utterly in love with you, and it terrified him because he had built a life where he wasn't supposed to care about anyone this much. 

he had forced you into a corner, made you play a game of secrets, but the reality was that you held his entire heart in your hands and he was just too selfish to let you go.

he knew you deserved better, he wanted to give you that. he wanted to tell the world that he loved you but he’s trapped. trapped in the same cycle, living the orchestrated life everyone around him wants him to live.

jaafar pulled his phone from his robe pocket, staring at your contact name. his fingers trembled slightly, a break in his usual composure. 

he knew he should give it a rest. he knew the gala was a close call. but the thought of your boyfriend touching you today was making his blood boil all over again.

typing out a quick text, his thumb hovered over the send button before he tapped it, a quiet intensity settling into his gaze.

jaafar: good morning, princess. looking forward to seeing you today. i miss you. 

the quiet buzz of his phone vibrating against his palm signaled that the message had gone through. jaafar stared at the screen for a long beat, watching his own words sit there in the harsh daylight.

i miss you. it felt entirely too exposed, too real for a text that could destroy both of their lives if the wrong person glanced at it. but he couldn't bring himself to unsend it.

he slipped the phone back into his pocket, turning his back to the city as he walked into his walk in closet. the silence of the penthouse was incredibly loud this morning.

he needed to get out. he needed to put the mask back on before his girlfriend woke up and started asking him questions he didn't have the energy to lie about.

moving with a quiet speed, he pulled a crisp black button down and a pair of tailored gray trousers from the rack. he dressed quickly, not even bothering to look in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt. usually, he was on top of his appearance, but today his hands felt heavy, his mind completely checked out.

he stepped into the kitchen, the clean scent of marble and stainless steel meeting him. his girlfriend was still asleep, meaning he had at least twenty minutes of peace. jaafar reached for the espresso machine, pulling a double shot of black coffee. no sugar. no cream. 

he just needed the bitter shock of it to wake up his nervous system, which was still running on the pure adrenaline of last night.

as he leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip, his eyes drifted to the clean, empty surface of his own kitchen island.

a sudden, violent flash of a memory hit him. but it wasn't a memory of this apartment. it was yours.

he remembered the way you looked on tuesday morning, standing by your own kitchen island in the early light, wearing nothing but a silk robe that kept slipping off your shoulder. 

you had looked so small, so beautifully undone, your curls a wild mess around your face as you tied the silk tighter. 

he remembered the exact tone of your voice when you whispered his name through the phone speaker the morning after, sounding so breathless and terrified of what you were doing, yet still calling him back anyway.

jaafar tightly gripped the warm ceramic mug, his knuckles turning white. he hated how clearly he could picture it. he hated that he knew the exact layout of your space better than he cared to know his own.

his phone buzzed in his pocket, a single, sharp vibration that made his heart instantly kick against his ribs.

he pulled it out so fast he almost spilled his coffee, his eyes locking onto the screen with a desperate, hidden hunger. but the name displaying at the top wasn't yours.

assistant: mr. jackson, the quarterly budget review has been pushed up to 8:30 am. the board is already arriving.

he knew exactly whose project this was. you were overseeing the meeting.

out of everything mentioned in the message, the board, the schedule change, the meeting itself. the only thing his mind managed to focus on was you.

a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he could stop it. for the first time all morning, the tension in his shoulders eased. the thought of you being there–sitting at the conference table, leading the presentation, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. it lit something inside him.

he took one last gulp of the bitter espresso, setting the empty mug down onto the marble counter.

"jaafar?"

the soft, groggy voice came from the hallway right on cue. his girlfriend stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, the slip from the night before hanging loosely from her shoulders. 

she blinked at the morning light, her eyes drifting over his fully dressed state, his crisp black button down and tailored dress pants. 

a small, disappointed pout formed on her lips. "you're already dressed? i thought we could actually sit down and have breakfast together this morning since the gala's finally over."

jaafar’s face smoothed out instantly. the untouchable executive persona locked right back into place before she could even register the absolute chaos that had been running through his mind just seconds ago.

"budget review got moved up," his tone dropping into that easy, polite register that never failed to charm. he walked past the counter, offering her a quick, practiced kiss on the cheek, completely avoiding her lips. 

"the board is already arriving at the office, so i have to get down there early. eat without me, okay?"

"oh. okay," she sighed, looking down but completely used to the sudden shifts in his schedule. "have a good day, babe."

"you too," jaafar muttered, as he grabbed his briefcase and phone off the marble table.

five minutes later, he was in the back of his suv, his eyes glued to the tinted window as the city blurred past. his fingers were drumming a restless, impatient beat against the leather armrest. he kept checking his phone every three minutes, pulling up your text thread, but there was still nothing. 

no reply to his morning message. not even read. your silence was loud, but knowing he was about to see you in a room full of people where you couldn't just ignore him made a possessive anticipation coil tight in his gut.

the corporate headquarters was already buzzing by the time he stepped out of the elevator onto the executive floor. assistants were hurrying down the hallways with folders, and the faint smell of premium catering coffee filled the air. 

jaafar walked with his usual long, confident strides, nodding politely to the senior board members who greeted him outside the main doors. 

he played the part perfectly, throwing out a few charming remarks, but the second he pushed open the heavy glass doors of the conference room, his eyes automatically swept the space.

and there you were.

you were standing at the head of the massive mahogany table, adjusting the projector settings on your laptop while the board members settled into their seats around you.

you looked absolutely flawless. the very picture of high society professionalism.

your black blazer was perfectly tailored, sharp enough to command the room without a single word, and for a moment, jaafar simply watched you.

then, as if feeling the sudden weight of his stare from across the room, your head snapped up. your eyes locked onto his. for a fraction of a second, your fingers froze over the keyboard.

jaafar caught everything. the tiny hitch in your chest.

the way your lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. the brief flash of something vulnerable before that polished, composed expression slid right back into place.

you recovered quickly. you always did.

but not quickly enough that he didn’t notice.

a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he continued toward his seat, never once breaking eye contact. around him, executives shuffled papers and exchanged quiet greetings, completely unaware of the silent exchange unfolding right in front of them.

“good morning, everyone,” you said, clearing your throat.

your voice threatened to tremble for the briefest second before settling into that perfectly practiced composure he knew so well.

“thank you for arriving early. let’s get started on the quarterly review.” as the lights dimmed and the first slide lit the screen behind you, jaafar leaned back in his chair.

the presentation began.

graphs appeared. numbers flashed across the screen. board members scribbled notes. questions were asked.

yet his attention never truly left you.

it lingered on the elegant way your hands moved as you spoke, on the confidence displayed into every word that left your mouth, on the effortless authority you carried while guiding a room full of people who spent their lives being the ones in charge.

and despite the professionalism of it all, despite the bright conference room and the dozens of eyes surrounding the two of you, there was still something undeniably dangerous about the way your gaze kept finding his.

something that made the entire meeting feel far longer than it actually was.

by the time the slideshow finally flickered black, signaling the end of the presentation, the air in the conference room felt thick. the lights slowly lifted back up to full brightness.

the boardroom immediately erupted into the usual noise. shuffling paper, chairs scraping against the carpet, and the low, collective murmur of satisfied executives. 

several board members stood up, moving over to crowd around you to offer congratulations on the flawless report.

jaafar didn't move. he stayed leaning back in his leather seat, hands resting casually on the mahogany table, his dark eyes tracing the way you handled the senior partners. 

you smiled politely, nodding at their feedback, completely unbothered by his intense stare. you weren't looking around frantically or rushing to pack your things. you were entirely calm, project folders stacked neatly under your arm, your posture straight.

"excellent work today, mr. jackson," a senior vice president murmured, leaning over jaafar's chair to shake his hand. "the strategy looks bulletproof for the next quarter."

"thank you, sir. the team put in a lot of hours," jaafar replied smoothly, his voice dropping into that easy, untouchable public register. he shook the man's hand without looking at him, his focus still firmly locked on the head of the table.

as the room slowly started to empty out, assistants began packing away the extra catering cups. you didn't keep your head down. you zipped your laptop bag with a slow confidence, completely ignoring him as if he were just another piece of office furniture.

jaafar waited. he waited until the very last board member stepped out of the room, their voices fading down the long executive hallway.

the heavy glass doors clicked shut, locking the two of you into the sudden, deafening quiet of the massive conference space.

"you didn't reply to my text, babe," jaafar's voice slid through the silence, low and entirely stripped of that professional corporate tone.

you didn't flinch. you didn't gasp or look toward the glass doors in a panic. instead, you slowly turned around, resting one hand on the edge of the mahogany table, your dark curls bouncing slightly as you tilted your head. 

your expression was completely stone cold, your eyes tracking his face with a detached, borderline amused look.

"i was busy," you said, your voice smooth, "and honestly jaafar, get over yourself. i don’t have to respond to every single text you send."

jaafar’s eyebrows shot up. a sharp thrill shot right through his gut at the ice in your tone. he loved it. he absolutely loved when you put him in his place, when that presidential backbone showed itself and you refused to bow down to him. 

it was a refreshing change to the obedient woman sitting in his penthouse.

he stood up, he slowly closed the distance between his chair and the head of the table. a slow, knowing smirk caught the corner of his sharp jawline. "really? that's how we're playing it today?"

"that’s how it has to be," you replied coldly, crossing your arms over your tailored black blazer as he stepped into your personal space. you didn't back up an inch. 

"the gala was last night. today is a saturday budget review. my boyfriend dropped me off at the front doors this morning, and he’s taking me out for lunch in exactly,” you look down at your watch, “forty five minutes.”

“so whatever little possessive moment you're trying to have right now? i’m telling you, please save it for someone who cares."

jaafar stopped just inches away from you, his heavy scent of expensive cologne and cedarwood completely invading your space. 

his jaw clenched, the smirk fading into something much more intense. he loved the attitude, but he also knew the truth.

he could see the way your eyes briefly dipped to his mouth before snapping back to his gaze. he could hear the slightly heavier rhythm of your breathing, despite how strong you were holding your posture. 

you could act as cold as you wanted, but he knew you. he knew that behind that icy glare, your body was still violently humming from the way he handled you against that wall.

 he knew you wanted him, needed him.

even more than he wanted you, and you hated him for it.

"you talk a big game when the lights are on, gorgeous," jaafar whispered, his pitch dropping as he reached out.

his long fingers gripping the edge of the table right next to your hip, trapping you. 

"but we both know if i locked that door right now, you'd be on this table in seconds."

"try me and see what happens to your job," you snapped back, your voice a biting whisper as you looked him dead in the eye, refusing to break.

"let me out, jaafar. i have somewhere more important to be."

jaafar tenses up at your tone. he lets out a sigh before he moves to let you go past.

the heavy door finally clicked shut behind you. the snap of your heels fading down the hallway until the silence swallowed him whole.

jaafar didn’t move from the spot where you had just left him standing.

his hands were still resting on the table, his knuckles slightly white against the wood.

he let out a long, slow breath through his nose. his jaw clenching so hard as the muscle jumped in his cheek.

your words echoed in his head, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stared blankly at the empty doorway. 

god, you were so sexy when you were being cruel to him.

he loved the coldness in your voice. you didn't bow down to him, you didn't even try cater to his ego.

jaafar felt his pants getting tighter as he drowned in his own thoughts.

but beneath the thrill of your attitude, a ugly irritation began to simmer within him.

you were good. 

you were damn good at playing this game.

 you had stood there with your arms crossed, looking at your watch, acting like the fucked out, breathless girl from last night didn't exist. 

you had spoken about your boyfriend with such ease.

like he actually mattered. 

like that lunch date was enough to erase the imprint of jaafar.

“fuck. this woman is gonna drive me insane,” he whispers to himself.

jaafar pushed himself away from the table, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he walked over to the boardroom windows. 

he looked down at the streets below, his eyes scanning the sidewalk until he spotted you. 

a sleek sedan pulled up to the curb, and a man stepped out. your boyfriend.

jaafar watched, his vision tunneling as the man wrapped his arms around your waist, leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. 

the exact lips jaafar had completely wrecked against a wall about twelve hours ago.

his breath caught in his throat, his hands clenching into tight fists inside his pockets.

 it was a sickening feeling. he hated it. 

he was a man who had everything, a man who ruled every room he stepped into.

and yet he was standing behind glass, completely powerless, watching another man hold the only thing he actually cared about.

he knew you were doing it on purpose. 

he knew that cold mask  in the boardroom was your defense mechanism.

your way of trying to claw back some control because you hated how completely he owned you when the lights were off.

you wanted him more than you would ever admit, and this was your way of trying to punish him.

jaafar dismissed his assistants with a quick nod, watching the heavy glass doors of his office click shut behind them. 

it was eight thirty o'clock at night, the office completely dead.

he was exhausted, his tie already loosened as he began to pack his laptop into his briefcase, desperate to just go home and wash the day off his skin.

the ringtone from his phone stopped him completely in his tracks.

jaafar walked back over, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the screen. it was an unknown number. 

he let out a tired sigh, his thumb sliding across the screen to decline the call. 

he threw his briefcase strap over his shoulder and grabbed his keys, but before he could even step away from the desk, the phone violently lit up again. 

same number.

his jaw clenched. 

jaafar hesitated for a long beat, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach. 

he finally picked it up, pressing the device to his ear.

"hello?" jaafar asked, his voice slipping automatically into that flat executive tone.

"hey jaafar! it's me."

the cheerful, familiar voice on the other end made jaafar freeze entirely, his hand tightening around the leather phone case.

it was your boyfriend.

"sorry to call you from my work phone, man," he continued, completely oblivious to the sudden suffocating silence on jaafar's end. 

"i got your number from the gala directory list. look, i know it's late and you're incredibly busy, but i really needed to ask you a huge favor."

his mind immediately flashed to the purple marks he had marked onto your skin. 

did he know?

"what—uhm. is it about her?" jaafar muttered.

"yeah man... i think im going to finally do it.”

“I'm going to propose," your boyfriend said, his voice bursting with a nervous, excited energy that made jaafar’s stomach turn. 

"she talks about how much she respects your taste, and honestly, you probably know her taste way better than i do. 

well he definitely knows how you taste..

“i want to get her something perfect, jaafar. i was wondering if you could come ring shopping with me this weekend? help me pick out the rock?"

jaafar felt the air completely leave his lungs. 

he stood entirely frozen in his massive office, staring out at the city lights while the words echoed in his head like a sick joke. 

ring shopping. 

the man who had spent the last week wrecking your body against walls and obsessing over your every breath.

he wanted him to help pick out the ring that would lock you away from him forever.

a sentence he never thought he’d ever hear.

"jaafar? you still there, man?"

"yeah," jaafar choked out, his teeth grinding together so hard his jaw ached. a manic rage started to bubble right beneath his chest. 

"i'm here."

"so, what do you think? you think you can spare an hour for me this Saturday?"

"i'll have to check my schedule," jaafar lied smoothly.

"i'll text you and let you know."

"awesome. thanks, jaafar. i really appreciate it. see you around!"

the line went dead.

jaafar slowly lowered the phone from his ear, his chest heaving under his black button down. 

the room felt completely suffocating. the reality of the situation hit him like a physical blow to the gut. 

you were supposed to belong to another man. 

you were supposed to get married. 

you were supposed to leave him.

he threw his phone onto the desk, the loud clatter ringing through the empty office. 

he couldn't breathe. 

by the time he finally grabbed his things and got into his car, he was a ticking time bomb.

when the sun fully dipped below the city, jaafar finally unlocked the heavy cedar doors of his penthouse. 

his temper already on a razor thin edge.

and he barely even made it past the foyer before the screaming started.

his girlfriend was already waiting for him, her face flushed with an anger that had been building up for weeks.

his girlfriend was already standing in the middle of the living room, her face flushed red with an anger that had been building up for hours. the second the door clicked shut, she slammed her wine glass down on the marble counter, the sharp noise echoing off the high ceilings.

"where the fuck have you been, jaafar?" she snapped, her voice instantly piercing through the quiet apartment.

"the gala ended last night. you left the bed at six this morning, you barely looked at me, and you've been ignoring my calls all day.

“your assistant told me your meeting ended hours ago. it is nine o'clock at night!"

jaafar didn't even drop his briefcase. 

he just stood there, his navy blazer slung over his shoulder.

his mind was still completely short circuiting from that phone call. ring shopping. the words were a physical weight in his chest.

"i had work to clear up," jaafar muttered, his voice flat, "i told you it was a busy day."

"work? don't give me that corporate bullshit!" she yelled, stepping right into his personal space. 

she was shaking, her eyes wide with pure frustration. 

"you haven't touched me in weeks, and when you finally did last night, you felt like a fucking ghost! you look right through me, jaafar. I am standing right in front of you, living in your house, and you treat me like a stranger!"

"i am tired," jaafar said, trying to brush past her, but she stepped right back in front of him, blocking his path to the bedroom.

"no! you don't get to just walk away and ignore me like you do everyone else!" she shrieked. 

when he didn't answer, her hand came up, hitting his chest hard. 

she hit him again, her palms slamming against his dress shirt in pure anger, trying to force some kind of reaction out of his cold, frame. 

"say something! yell at me! do something! do you even care about me at all?"

jaafar just stood there, letting her palms strike his chest. 

he didn't move.

 he didn't even flinch. 

he just looked down at her with a pair of dead eyes, realizing in that exact moment the terrifying truth. 

he didn't care.

 he didn't care about her tears, he didn't care about why she was angry.

and he didn't care about saving this relationship.

 the only thing he felt was a suffocating desire to be anywhere else. 

because while his girlfriend was screaming for his attention, his entire world was crashing down at the thought of another man putting a ring on your finger.

“i can’t do this right now.”jaafar turned on his heel. 

he grabbed his car keys off the console table, completely ignoring her screaming his name at the top of her lungs.

he walked right out of the apartment, slamming the heavy door behind him.

the penthouse elevator couldn't move fast enough. 

when he got down to the garage, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his mercedes gle, slamming his hands against the steering wheel before cranking the engine.

he didn't have a plan.

he just needed to move, he needed to escape everything going on in his mind. 

he drove out into the rainy city streets, the windshield wipers slapping a beat against the glass. 

the rain was pouring down, blurring the streetlights into streaks of yellow and red. 

his mind was a total blur, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his hands felt numb. 

he just drove.

turn after turn, light after light.

but his brain only knew one safe haven.

twenty minutes later, the SUV rolled to a slow stop right across the street from your apartment building. 

jaafar stared up at the glowing windows of your place, his throat incredibly tight. 

he looked around the dark street, his eyes scanning for your boyfriend’s car, but the garage entrance was dark. 

he couldn't tell if you were alone, or if you were currently sitting on the couch playing the perfect happy woman to the man who wanted to buy you a ring.

either way, he didn’t care.

he just needed you.

he pulled out his phone and hit your contact name.

it rang twice before your voice cut through the quiet interior of the car. 

“jaafar? what’s do you need? it’s late.” your tone still carried that distant chill from the boardroom earlier that day.

"you," jaafar said, his voice completely lacked his usual composed charm. 

"i'm outside your building. come downstairs."

there was a long pause on the other end of the line, nothing but the faint sound of the storm and your breathing. “jaafar, i–”

"i don't care—i don’t care what’s going on around you right now." he interrupted, staring up at your window. "i just—just come down, please."

he whined, the last word sounding almost desperate.

a few minutes later, the glass lobby doors opened. 

you stepped out into the damp night air, wearing a pair of laced boy shorts with a diy off the shoulder t-shirt. 

holding a small umbrella over your head as you hurried across the wet street. 

you opened the passenger door, slipping inside the warm leather interior of his car, shaking the cold rain off.

the door clicked shut, and for a long, heavy minute, neither of you said a word. 

the only sound was the heavy downpour drumming aggressively against the roof of the car.

"what happened?" you asked softly, turning your head to look at his profile.

his hair was slightly messy from the wind, his tie was completely gone, and the top two buttons of his shirt were torn open. 

he looked smaller, more human than he ever had in the office.

"we got into a fight," jaafar started, his voice barely above a whisper. 

he rested his forehead against the steering wheel for a second, letting out a ragged breath before looking over at you, his dark eyes wide and completely vulnerable.

"or she just snapped at me. screaming about how distant i am, hitting my chest... she was losing her mind, baby. she was crying right in front of me."

you swallowed hard, looking down at your lap, your fingers tracing the seam of your shorts. "j..."

"and the worst part?" he let out a bitter chuckle.

a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. "the worst part is that i feel like an absolute monster because i didn't even care.”

“i just stood there… watching her break down, letting her hit me, and i didn't feel a single emotion. not one ounce of guilt. i didn't even feel anger.”

“princess, all I could think about was you.”

he chuckled lightly, “all I’ve done all day is think about how much i fucking love you."

the confession hung in the the car like a bomb. 

your eyes snapped up to meet his. 

the cold, defensive wall you had built so carefully instantly rushed back to protect you. 

"jaafar, stop it. don't—we aren’t gonna do this right now.”

he shakes his head, “stop. just stop,” he says over you.

“no! jaafar! this—this is exactly what we agreed to from day one. we said this was nothing, it wasn’t even supposed to become this. we both knew the rules when we—."

"fuck the rules!" he snapped, his voice cracking desperately as he reached across the center console, his long fingers trying to catch your hand. 

"i can't keep pretending. i can't go back to that apartment and look at her when you're the only thing that matters to me.”

“i am going insane, and you're sitting here acting like this is just some game."

"well, you’re going have to get over it!" you yelled back, pulling your hand completely away from his grip. 

your voice was shaking, tears suddenly threatening the corners of your eyes.

"i have a life, jaafar! i have a boyfriend who actually shows up for me publicly, who takes me out, who loves me.”

“you started all this. you wanted to keep this secret. so we made a deal. now you're trying to ruin everything because you can't handle your own feelings!"

jaafar stared at you, breathing heavily under his button down, a genuine pain flashing across his sharp features. 

"so you're telling me you don't love me?”

“you're sitting here looking me dead in the eye, telling me you don't feel a single fucking thing for me?"

"no, jaafar! i'm not saying that, but—"

"then what the fuck are we doing?!" he roared, his frustration finally boiling over, his hands gripping the steering wheel again. 

"why are we fighting so hard to stay miserable? why are you running back to him when you know you belong to me?!"

“i don’t belong to shit, jaafar!" you shouted back, the anger finally bursting right out of your chest. 

"you couldn’t even man up enough to take me seriously in the first place! you chose her, remember that. all i am is some pussy to you. just admit it!”

jaafar flinched as if you had physically struck him across the face. 

his hands dropped from the steering wheel, his eyes widening in shock as your words sliced right through his chest.

“you don’t love me," you continued, your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over against your cheeks. 

"jaafar, how can you just say that like it’s nothing?,” your voice finally softened.

“i’m dealing with all this bullshit because of you, and you’re telling me that you love me?”

jaafar just stared at you, for the first time in his life, the overly optimistic, confident man had absolutely nothing to say. 

he looked entirely broken, the vulnerability in his eyes exposing just how deeply your words had cut him.

but you didn't give him a chance to recover.

unable to handle the suffocating weight of the argument or the terrifying realization of how much your own heart was breaking, you grabbed the door handle. 

you threw the passenger door open, stepping right out into the freezing, pouring rain.

"honestly, fuck you jaafar!" you shouted over the sound of the storm, and before he could even unbuckle his seatbelt to reach for you, you slammed the car door shut.

you ran. 

your house slippers soaked through instantly as you bolted across the pavement and back through the lobby doors, under the full impression that he would just do what he always did.

clench his jaw, sigh and drive away into the dark.

you practically burst into your apartment, locking the deadbolt behind you with trembling hands as you sank down against the hard wood of the door. 

the room was completely dark and empty.

you sat on the floor, the tears finally spilling over your cheeks in angry streams. 

your chest was aching so bad you could barely catch your breath, your hands shaking violently against your knees. 

you were so angry at him, so terrified of how easily he had just broken your defenses.

and you couldn't understand why the hell you felt like your entire world was ending.

bam. bam. bam.

a sudden, heavy pounding shook the wood right behind your back.

you jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. 

you scrambled to your feet, wiping your face quickly with the back of your hands as you unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the heavy door open.

jaafar was standing in the hallway. 

he was completely drenched, his button down clinging flat against his toned chest, rainwater dripping heavily from his dark curls and sliding down his jawline. 

his eyes were wildly intense, entirely consumed by a desperate focus. 

he had run up the stairs after you.

before you could even utter a single word, he stepped across, slamming the apartment door shut behind him.

his large, wet hands flew up, clamping firmly around your cheeks, his long fingers tangling into your messy curls as he tilted your face up. 

he crashed his mouth onto yours with a passionate hunger. 

it wasn't rough or angry like the hallway at the gala. 

he kissed you as if he were drowning and your lips were the only source of air left in the world.

his tongue deeply claiming yours while you let out a quiet, defeated sob against his mouth, your hands instantly gripping the wet fabric of his shirt.

he finally pulled back just an inch, his breathing loud in your quiet entryway, his palms still burning hot against your wet face.

"leave him," jaafar breathed, his dark eyes burning into yours.

"don’t marry him. i’ll drop everything for you. i’ll walk away from that woman, my public image, the company, all of it. i’ll drop it all tonight. i swear on my life, princess."

a thick tear slid down his cheek, mixing with the rainwater. 

"please, i need you. i–i can’t do this anymore. you’re everything to me. i’m so sorry, baby. i love you. god, i love you so fucking much."

something inside you completely shattered at those words. 

nothing was important to you anymore. 

none of it existed. you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him right back down to your mouth as you nodded against his lips, crying out a muffled "i love you so much" into the dark apartment.

jaafar didn't waste another second. 

he reached down and lifted you effortlessly, your thighs locking around his damp waist as he carried you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

the trail of rainwater following you guys into the dark.

he dropped you onto the mattress, his tall, soaked frame instantly crowding over you. 

his hands were frantic now, tore his wet button down open, the buttons popping off and flying onto the carpet.

his long fingers worked to pull your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside until you were completely bare beneath him.

instead of rushing inside you like he usually did, jaafar stopped. 

he pinned your wrists gently beside your head, his large chest rising and falling as he looked down at you in the dim light. 

his eyes were tracking the rise and fall of your chest.

"jaafar," you whispered, your voice shaking as your hips subconsciously tilted up toward him, already aching for him.

"shh pretty," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low rasp.

he let go of your wrists, his large, warm hands sliding down your sides to cup your hips, grounding you against the sheets. 

"let me show you how much i love you."

the words sent a violent shiver straight down to your core.

he leaned down, his mouth attaching to the sensitive skin right under your jaw. 

his lips were hot, kissing a slow path down your throat, lingering on the deep purple mark he had left the night before. 

he used his tongue to soothe the bruised skin, his hot breath fanning against your collarbone until you let out a soft, shaky sigh.

his hands left your hips, sliding up your torso to cup your boobs, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples. 

you arched into his touch, your fingers tangling into his damp curls as he moved lower. 

jaafar's mouth followed his hands, trailing down the center of your stomach, his tongue tracing the dip of your bellybutton until you were squirming beneath him.

"jaafar, i need you," you whimpered, your thighs parting instinctively as the cold air hit your bare skin.

"i know, princess. look at me," he choked out, parting your legs wider. 

he settled his frame between your knees, kneeling down before you. 

his eyes never left yours as his tongue gently slid down to find your core.

a sharp gasp caught in your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the mattress.

jaafar didn't hold back. 

he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nub, tasting the slick sweetness you were already producing for him. 

you couldn't stop your hips from lifting off the bed, completely helpless against the pace he was working at.

"jaa—mmmygod," you sobbed out, your head rolling side to side into the pillows.

"fuck, you taste so good, princess," jaafar whined against your slick skin.

he used his large hands to grip your thighs, holding you wide open so he could look down at you while he devoured your pussy. "you're so wet for me. tell me you want me. say it out loud."

his tongue stroked up and down, drinking you up until your inner walls were clenching down on nothing.

begging for the fullness you actually needed.

your hands flew down, your fingers tangling into his damp curls to pull him away.

"i want you! jaafar, please, i need you inside me right now!" 

you screamed, your hips bucking frantically against his mouth, your mind completely gone. "fuck, please, j!"

jaafar pulled away with a wet, soft whine.

he rose over you.

he looked totally undone. he opened his fly, freeing his thick, throbbing length. 

he lifted your legs above his shoulders, his hands resting on each side of your head.

he rested his tip right against your soaking entrance, his breath hitching as he stared down at you.

"tell me i'm yours," he whined, his voice trembling, sounding so needy it made your heart ache. 

"tell me you're leaving him. i can't take it anymore, baby. i need to hear you say it before i go crazy." 

"you’re all mine baby. i swear i'm l–leaving him, j. i love you so much" you whispered, your hands flying to his waist to pull him down.

jaafar slammed his hips forward, burying his length inside you.

a high pitched moan tore from your throat, the sound incredibly loud in the room. 

your back arched completely off the sheets as the fullness of him stretched you to the absolute limit. 

jaafar let out a loud, ragged cry of his own, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as your tight walls clamped down around him.

"fuck! you're so tight, ohmyfuckinggod," jaafar choked out, already driving into you with a rhythm. 

he wasn't trying to be quiet or gentle. 

he was slamming his hips against yours, the wet sound of your skin colliding filling the room as he lost all control. "mhmm–i love you. i love you so much. you feel so fucking perfect."

"jaafaryesss, fuck, just like that!" you screamed back, your hands trailing down his back, pulling him even deeper. 

you didn't care who heard you. you were shouting his name, begging for more. 

"i'm never letting you go, you hear me?" jaafar groaned out, his pace turning fast and brutal, his thrusts hitting your g spot over and over again. 

he was whining, panting heavily against your skin, completely at your mercy. "you're my fucking wife now. you're mine. m’gonna put a fucking baby in you.”

every single thrust had the bed creaking uncontrollably.

jaafarjaafar! j—i’m gonna fuckingcummm" you sobbed, your hands gripping his damp hair as the pressure in your stomach tightened.

"you gonna cum, huh?”

“yeah baby, cum for me, all on this dick!" he cried out.

his voice cracked and raw as he gripped your legs, lifting you up to take every single inch of his thickness. 

the sudden shift in angle pushed you straight to your orgasm. 

your inner muscles violently clenching around him, a loud scream tearing from your lips as your climax hit you in ripples.

he released a massive, burning wave of his release deep inside your walls.

 a loud, needy whine escaping his lips as he made every single drop of himself remained inside you.

he collapsed over you a bit later, both of you panting loudly. 

your chests rising and falling heavily against each other in the quiet room. 

jaafar shifted his weight, wrapping his long arms securely around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest, his face buried deep into the damp curls at the nape of your neck.

"i actually love you," he whispered loudly into the dark, his voice still shaky and raw with emotion as his fingers stroked your bare stomach. 

"we're done hiding, princess. i promise. everyone's gonna know it."

“so what now?” the silence of the bedroom rushed back in, but it didn't feel heavy anymore.

it felt completely clear. 

jaafar’s chest was still rising and falling heavily against your back, his skin hot and slick with sweat as he held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth.

he didn't answer right away. 

instead, he shifted again, pulling you even tighter against his chest, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss right into the nape of your neck. 

his large hand slid down your stomach, his fingers tangling with yours, gripping your hand so tight it almost hurt.

"now," jaafar murmured, his voice completely stripped of any hesitation.

"i go back to the penthouse tomorrow morning while she's packing her things, and i tell her it's officially over. that i'm done."

you let out a slow, quiet breath, staring into the dark room. the reality of what he was saying started to settle in.

but for the first time, you weren’t scared.

"and him?" you whispered, your heart giving a slight kick against your ribs. “i don’t want to hurt him.”

jaafar’s grip on your waist tightened instantly, his body going still behind you. 

he rolled you over onto your back so he could look down at your face.

"i know, baby. i know you don't," jaafar whispered, his voice raspy as his thumb came up to trace your bottom lip. 

"i know he loves you, princess. and i know he doesn't deserve to get his heart broken."

he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

he sounded frustrated, almost hurt, but there wasn't a single shred of doubt in his posture.

“but it's already done," he whispered, his long fingers tangling into your messy curls, holding you close. 

"the second i touched you, it was over. you can't go back to him and play house, pretending.”

“you can't let him buy you a ring when you know damn well your heart is over here, with me."

you pushed yourself up, propping your weight on your elbows, your dark hair falling over your bare shoulders as you stared down at him.

your eyes narrowed, searching his face, tracking the sudden, guilty shift in his gaze.

"you keep talking about a ring," you repeated, your voice dropping into a quiet, suspicious whisper. "why?”

jaafar stays silent, his eyes leaving yours for a brief second.

“hello? how do you know he wants to buy me a ring, jaafar?"

jaafar swallowed hard, his chest heavy as he looked up at you. 

he let out a long, defeated sigh, his fingers tracing a slow, nervous circle on the bare skin of your hip.

"because he called me," jaafar confessed. "tonight. right before I left the office."

your breath hitched, your elbows nearly giving out beneath you. "what?"

"he called my work phone at eight o'clock," jaafar said, his jaw clenching as the memory made that suffocating rage flare right back up in his throat. 

"he got my number from the gala directory. he... he told me he was going to propose to you. and then he asked me if I would go ring shopping with him this weekend. because he wanted to get you something perfect, and he thought I had good taste."

you sat there completely stunned, the words hitting you like a punch. your mind scrambled, trying to picture your boyfriend or ex.

innocent, excited, completely clueless.

calling the literal man who was currently in your bed, asking him for help to propose to you.

"oh my god," you whispered, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as fresh tears pricked your eyes. "oh my god, jaafar…this is really bad."

"it drove me fucking insane," jaafar whined suddenly, his voice cracking as he surged upward, wrapping his long arms around your waist and pulling your body flat against his chest again. 

he buried his face into your neck, holding you so tight.

"i couldn't breathe. I stood in my office and I felt like I was dying, princess. the thought of him putting a ring on your finger, the thought of you walking down an aisle to him... I couldn't take it. that's why I drove straight to you. I can't let him have you."

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes wide and begging, "you can't do it. you can't say yes then marry him. tell me you won't."

“jaafar, what am i supposed to do?” you asked, your voice shaking as the weight of everything crashed down on you.

“are you being serious right now?” he laughed awkwardly, a nervous sound of disbelief cutting through the quiet bedroom.

“yes! this is horrible, jaafar. what do i do?”

“you tell him that you aren’t gonna marry him, that’s what. you end the relationship.”

“yeah, but—”

“do you not want to?” jaafar interrupted, his tone suddenly dropping into a sharp register.

“i’m not saying that, but it’s just—”

“okay, then what the fuck is going on? why are you hesitant about telling him no?”

“i’m not hesitant!” you snapped back, the frustration bubbling over as you rubbed your face with your hands. “i just don’t know what to do now.”

“baby.” his eyes softened instantly at the panic in your voice. 

the harshness of his posture melted away, replaced by that desperate need to comfort you, to fix it for you.

“jaafar, i don’t know. this is too much for me,” you cried out, your chest heaving as you looked around the dark room, feeling completely trapped by the reality of the mess you were in.

“so what, we said all those things for nothing?” he asked, his voice cracking, looking at you like you had just ripped his heart right out of his chest.

“it’s not for nothing. i meant it,” you insisted, looking him dead in the eye so he could see the truth in your words. 

“but seriously, what do you expect me to do?”

“choose me?” jaafar whined, his voice trembling with a childlike vulnerability that completely shattered your heart. 

“tell him it’s over. call him, i don’t care, but i want you to be done with him. i want you to want to be with me.”

“jaafar... it’s not that easy.”

“wow.” he let you go.

the physical loss of his warmth hit you instantly as he pulled his arms completely away from your waist, rolling onto his back and staring blankly up at the dark ceiling. 

his face went totally blank. a cold, bitter wall slamming right back up between the both of you.

“jaafar, stop it,” you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm, but he completely ignored you, his jaw clenching tight as the silence stretched across the bed.

"jaafar, baby, look at me," you begged, leaning over him, but he wouldn't budge. 

he just kept staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in angry breaths.

"no, i get it," he said, his voice dropping into that chillingly quiet, tone that made him sound like a stranger again. 

it was a defense mechanism and you knew it, but it still hurt. 

"i came over here, threw my entire life in the trash, told you i'd walk away from everything, and you're sitting here weighing your options."

"that is not what i'm doing!" you snapped, your temper rising because he was twisting your words. 

"i am trying to figure out how to navigate breaking a good man's heart without causing a complete mess of things!”

“he hasn't done anything wrong, jaafar. you can't just expect me to flip a switch and feel absolutely nothing about destroying him."

jaafar let out a bitter, mocking breath through his nose. "you think i didn't just destroy someone? i left my girlfriend screaming and crying on the floor of my apartment because i realized i couldn't give less of a fuck about her. i didn't hesitate. know why?”

he paused for a moment, as you swallowed hard.

“because the thought of losing you was worse than the guilt of hurting her."

he finally turned his head, "but you?" he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. 

"you're sitting here protective of his feelings. you're worried about what it's gonna look like. you're worried about how hard it's gonna be.”

“if you loved me the way you screamed, the way you claim you do, there wouldn't be a 'yeah, but.' there wouldn't be a plan. you'd just want me."

"i do want you!" you shouted, the frustration tearing out of your throat. 

"why do you think we are in this bed right now? why do you think i let you in my life like this? i am terrified, jaafar!”

“you have so much power over me and it scares the shit out of me, and now you're demanding i blow up my entire life on a random saturday night before i can even process the fact that my boyfriend wants to propose to me!"

jaafar stared at you, your words hanging heavily in the dark space between your faces. the anger in his jaw seemed to soften just a fraction, the raw pain underneath showing through.

"so what's the timeline then?" he whined softly. 

he reached up, his long, hesitant fingers hovering over the bare skin of your thigh before finally resting there. 

"when do can we finally stop this? when do i get to hold your hand in public without looking over my shoulder? give me a date, princess.”

“jaafar, please..”

“no. because i swear to god, if i have to see him touch you again, i'm going to lose my mind."

“i dont have a timeline, jaafar! that's what i am trying to tell you!" you cried out, throwing your hands up in pure frustration. 

"you are pushing me into a corner and expecting me to have all the answers right now!"

jaafar’s hand moved almost immediately from your thigh as if he had been burned. 

the soft, pleading look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold hard glare.

 he pushed himself up, swinging his long legs off the side of your mattress. 

his broad, bare back was completely still as he sat on the edge of the bed, refusing to look at you.

"right. no timeline," he muttered, his voice dangerously quiet. 

"so basically, you want me to go back to my place, pretend everything is fine, and sit around twiddling my thumbs while you figure out when it's convenient for you to leave him.”

“or worse, wait until he actually puts a ring on your finger."

"j, i never said that," you mumble, scrambling across the sheets to sit right behind him, your hands hovering over his tense shoulders. 

"i am not going to marry him, jaafar. i promise you that.”

“but you can't expect me to just call him up at midnight while he's sleeping and ruin his life over the phone."

"why not?" jaafar snapped, spinning around to face you.

"if you know you're going to do it anyway, why wait? unless–unless a part of you actually wants that life with him. the safe life. the domestic little fairytale you guys play."

"stop saying that!" you yelled, your voice breaking as tears stung your eyes again. "you know damn well i don't want that with him. if i did, i wouldn't be here with you!"

"then prove it!" he raised his voice.

his voice cracked as he leaned into your space, his large hands coming up to grip your wrists. 

he was shaking, looking at you like a starving man begging for a lifeline. 

"i am begging you, to just break it off. tomorrow morning. the second he walks through that door, tell him it's over. i don't want to have to share you anymore, it's making me sick."

you looked at his face, seeing a man who had never had to beg for anything in his entire life, and yet was completely on his knees for you.

"okay," you whispered, the breath leaving your lungs as you finally surrendered. "okay, jaafar. got it. tomorrow morning. when he gets home, i'll end it. that’s what you want right?”

he looked up at you, his dark eyes searching your face. 

"that's what i want?" he repeated quietly, his voice dropping into a pained whisper.

"don't do that. don't make it sound like i'm forcing you to kill someone."

"but you are forcing me, jaafar," you whispered back, a single tear sliding down your cheek as you looked down at him. 

"you're giving me an ultimatum in my own bed at midnight. you're telling me that if i don't blow my life up by tomorrow morning, everything we said was for nothing. so yes, i'm doing what you want."

jaafar looked like he had just been stabbed. 

he scrambled up the mattress, crowding back over your lap, his large hands coming up to desperately cup your face. 

his palms were warm, his fingers shaking against your cheeks as he forced you to look right into his eyes.

"i'm not trying to force you," he whined, his voice completely cracking, an emotional break in his chest making him sound incredibly small. 

"i'm just terrified. don't you get it? i am completely terrified of losing you. I heard his voice on that phone talking about a ring, and my entire world went black. I didn't think. I just knew I had to get to you before he locked you away from me forever."

“i don’t wanna fight anymore, j,” you whispered, your voice completely cracking under the weight of the exhaustion. 

your hands came up to wrap around his wet wrists, your thumbs wiping away the tears on his cheeks. “i’m just tired.”

“tell me what you need, anything, i’ll give it to you,” jaafar pleaded, his voice a desperate rasp against your lips. 

his large hands slid down from your face, smoothing over your neck and resting on your shoulders. 

he looked at you like you were his entire world, just a man entirely on his knees for the woman he loved.

“i just need you,” you breathed, the confession slipping out before you could stop it. “stop talking. just touch me.”

jaafar didn't need to be told twice. he didn't slide inside you right away, no.

instead, he turned to lay flat on his back, his hands reaching up to grip your waist and lifting you up until you were straddling his thick, toned thighs.

the view of him from above made you dizzy.

his muscular chest rising and falling heavily, his dark curls damp and messy against the pillows.

his eyes were tracking your every move as you adjusted yourself over his lap. 

you rested your palms against his chest, your core was already throbbing, aching for the thickness of him after all the tension and arguing. 

jaafar’s hands clamped tightly onto your hips, his long fingers digging into your skin as he guided your center right against his pulsing length.

your dripping heat rubbing directly against his heavy dick made you let out a breathy moan, your head tossing back.

"fuck, princess," jaafar whined loudly, his hips giving an involuntary upward twitch beneath you. 

his face was completely flushed, his jaw clenching as he stared up at your body. "put it in. please, beautiful. take all of it. it’s all yours."

you didn't hesitate. 

you tilted your hips, aligning his tip with your soaking entrance, and slowly, you sank your weight down.

“shittt,” you sank down lower, inch by inch, until your pelvis slammed flush against his, taking every single bit of him. 

jaafar released a loud moan, his head slamming back into the mattress, his upper body going completely rigid as your tight walls gripped his shaft. 

"oh babe," you wailed out, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as you started to move.

you lifted yourself up and slid right back down, you rode him hard, your hips rolling and slamming rhythmically against his, the raw, wet friction of your bodies echoing loudly through the room.

a white ring began to form around his length, “look how creamy you already are, baby.” 

his hands stayed locked on your waist, his thumbs pressing into your skin to help guide the deep angle of your thrusts.

every time you sank down, he drove his hips upward to meet you.

he was burying himself so deep into your core, "mmmyeah, just like that, baby, fuck," jaafar roared out, his voice raw as he stared up at your face. he loved seeing you like this, completely undone by him.

"fuck that pretty pussy, babe. use this shit. take what you fuck–need."

your back arching as your head rolled back, he gripped your hips and completely took over the pace. 

he began slamming his hips upward with a brutal pace.

pinning you down onto his length, driving into your sweet spot over and over again until the bedroom was filled with the loud, wet sound of your skin colliding.

“baby i can’t,” your release crashing down way faster than the first time.

“oh my goodness, jaafar wai–” a high-pitched scream tore from your lips as your climax hit you.

your release pushed jaafar completely over the edge.

with one final thrust upward, he buried his entire length to the hilt inside you and locked his hips. 

his entire frame shuddered violently beneath you, sending every single drop of himself inside you.

you collapsed forward onto his chest, completely exhausted, both of your bodies slick with sweat. 

jaafar’s long arms instantly wrapped around your back, holding you flush against him as you both panted loudly in the dark, your heartbeats echoing together in the quiet room.

“i’m sorry j,” you looks up at him, your eyes low and heavy.

he kisses the top of your already messed up curls, “it’s okay love. i promise, we’re gonna get through this, okay?”

it was third period chemistry, you and jermajesty were currently planning to risk it all in the very last row. your teacher had her back turned, aggressively writing some formula on the whiteboard, which was the ultimate green light.

you nudged his shoulder, giving him the look. jermajesty smirked, sliding his cart out of his hoodie pocket like a secret agent.

he took a quick hit, blowing the smoke straight down his hoodie sleeve, looking way too proud of himself. “okay, my turn, gimme,” you whispered, reaching out under your desk.

but.

something stupid went off in jermajesty’s mind, prompting him to try and do some fancy hand off. and as expected, his fingers ended up slipping. time literally slowed down as the cart slipped from his grip, bounced off his knee, and hit the floor with a loud ‘clack.’

both of your souls instantly left your bodies. jermajesty dove out of his chair, scrambling on the floor to snatch it before anyone could notice.

he popped back up, shoved it in his pocket, and immediately turned on you, his eyes wide with panic. “why the fuck did you drop it?!” he hissed, his voice cracking slightly.

“me?!” you gasped, pointing at yourself in betrayal. “nigga, you literally threw it at me! why the fuck would you do that?”

“i handed it perfectly, you have fucking butter fingers!” he whispered back hard, leaning in so close your foreheads almost touched. “if we get suspended, i'm telling them it was your fault.”

“i will literally fight you,” you shot back, trying so hard not to laugh because his face was turning red from the adrenaline. “deadass.”

at this point, you both erupted into laughter, the sound spilling through the back of the classroom no matter how hard you tried to muffle it.

“is there a problem back there?”

the teacher’s voice boomed, and both of you froze like deer in headlights. jermajesty instantly grabbed his pencil, staring down at his notebook like he was actively being productive, while you gave the teacher a completely innocent smile.

the entire class turned to look at the both of you. “no, ms. clark! jermajesty just dropped his...highlighter,” you lied through your teeth, a wheezy laugh escaping you after.

the teacher just stared for a second, “please keep it down, i don’t want to have to seperate the both of you.” she sighed at the chaos of you two, and turned back to the board.

the second the coast was clear, jermajesty let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands. you couldn't hold it in and snorted, kicking his shin under the desk.

he looked up, a beautiful smile breaking across his face as he shook his head at you. “we are never doing that again,” he muttered, though he reached under the desk and squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles.

“it’s literally your fault,” you giggled, squeezing his hand back. “next time, don’t be dumb.”