*NSFW! Jermajesty seems like the type to cum while rating you out. That’s how needy and big of a geek he is.
warnings: smut (mdni), fem receiving obvi, a smidge of humping
your fingers thread through jermajesty’s hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch against you.
“right there, baby,” you murmur, “please don’t stop.”
his tongue flattens and drags, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. his palms press into the inside of your thighs, keeping you open, and the room is nothing but dim light coming from the corner lamp and the wet sounds of his mouth working.
your head drops back against the pillows as your vision blurs.
“you’re doing so good,” you tell him, and your voice catches on the last word because he’s found that spot—the one that makes your hips jerk. “so fucking good, baby.”
he groans into you and the vibration ripples. your fingers tighten in his hair. a fistful of dark curls. he’s always liked that. the pull, the sting, the way you anchor yourself to him when you’re getting close.
the sheets beneath you are tangled now, twisted around one ankle. you kicked them aside ten minutes ago when he first settled between your legs with that look on his face.
he shifts lower and his tongue dips inside you, and the sound you make is not a word.
“look at me, baby.” you beg, and his rhythm stumbles. you glance down and find his eyes already lifting to meet yours, dark and glassy, peering up at you from between your thighs like you’re the only thing worth seeing in the whole damn world.
“there you are,” you smile.
he’s still watching. his mouth still on you.
and then he moves again, tongue circling your clit with a precision that makes your toes curl, and he doesn’t blink. doesnt look away. his gaze stays locked on your face, tracking every flinch, every gasp, every time your lips part around a moan you can’t swallow.
the eye contact is almost too much. almost. heat crawls up your chest, blooms across your collarbones, turns your cheeks hot. you can feel yourself getting wetter against his mouth, and he knows it—you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners.
he’s so damn proud of himself.
he should be.
“oh baby,” you breathe, and the word stretches out, elastic. “you’re doing so well. such a good boy for me.”
his hips buck against the mattress.
the movement involuntary—you can see that in the way his eyes widen, how a flush creeps up his neck. he’s been grinding down in little rolls all night, rubbing himself against the bed while he eats you out, but that was different. that was slow, absent-minded friction. this was desperate.
your mouth curves as you realize what’s happening.
his tongue doesn’t stop, and his hips rock forward again. the rhythm of his mouth and the rhythm of his body have split into two separate, competing needs, and he’s losing the battle to control either one.
you push up onto your elbows so you can watch him properly. the angle changing everything. the pressure of his mouth, the view of his back muscles shifting, the way his briefs cling to him, strained.
he’s still wearing them. you never got around to pulling them off. mow you’re glad.
his eyes squeeze shut as his forehead drops against your thigh.
“uh-uh.” your fingers catch his chin and tilt his face back up. “look at me. i wanna see you, baby.”
he whines. actually whines, a sound that vibrates against you, and your thighs clamp around his head before you can stop them. the pressure makes him groan again.
his tongue is sloppy now, losing technique, losing form. but it doesn’t matter. it almost makes it better. the desperation, the way he’s grinding against the mattress, chasing the friction.
“that’s it,” you tell him. your hips are rolling now too, instinctive, meeting the messy strokes of his mouth. “let go, baby. i’ve got you. cum for me.”
his whole body seizes. his shoulders hunching, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave marks, his mouth still pressed against you because he refuses to stop even as his own orgasm crashes through him.
he cries out, muffled, into your pussy.
you watch his hips pump against nothing but damp cotton, riding out the spasms, and the sight of it, the desperation, sends a bolt of heat straight through your core. your head falls back and your fingers twist deeper into his hair.
he’s still shaking but his tongue is moving again, slower now, lazy and drenched, and you realize he has no intention of stopping.
“jermajesty.” you moan, already breathless. “you don’t have to—”
his eyes flick up to yours.
oh. he’s not done.
your stomach tightens.
“baby,” you try again, but it comes out even more breathless than the first time as he picks up speed. two fingers slide inside you without warning, curling up, and the stretch makes you forget whatever you were about to say.
you’re close now. the pressure builds low in your belly, and your thighs are shaking, and every slick slide of his tongue pulls you closer to the edge. you can hear yourself babbling—praise, nonsense, his name broken into syllables—but you can’t stop.
he hums against your clit as your back arches off the bed. the sound you make is raw and jagged, and he doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow, fingers still pumping and tongue still circling and eyes still watching.
you collapse against the mattress as he’s pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh now. but when you manage to lift your head and look at him, his eyes are still needy.
Song Inspo: Beetlejuice x Mariah the Scientist (I loveeee this song pls listen)
Author’s Note: Gworlllsss this is my first sinner's fanfic, I hope y'all love it 😝😫💗 Everybody voted smut on the poll so I tried to do fluff, smut, and angst in one to please everybody, luv u 😚 p.s. very lightly proof read, sorry for any mistakes in advance 😬
Late night had settled over Elias’s condo. Leon Thomas drifted from the speakers, lulling the room into a comfortable silence. Dim purple lighting washed over your soft brown skin, making it that much more alluring.
Somewhere nearby, a window was left cracked open and a gentle breeze blew through the curtains across your damp skin, raising goose bumps that sent chills over your body. The air carried the rich, woodsy scent of Elias’s cologne mixed with cooling sweat and the intimate evidence of what you two had been doing for hours.
Stack shifted so that he was between your legs again. His warm, bare chest rested against yours as his eyes wandered over your features, hands on either side of your head. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, your jaw, down your throat. It had only been 15 minutes, and he was already ready for more of you.
“One more baby? Lemme have you again.” His southern drawl came out sweet and enticing. You traced your fingers down his spine as he continued placing tantalizing kisses across your exposed flesh.
“What we doin’ Stack?”
He hummed against your skin in confusion, never stopping his torrent of kisses.
“I’m spending more nights at your place now than my own and we been doin’ this for a hot minute now. We spend most of our time together anyway.”
Stack made his way back to your lips now, leaving a soft one at the corner of your mouth.
“What you gettin’ at, sweetness?” He pulled away to look at you fully now.
“I just mean… is this all? We just gon’ keep hookin’ up and calling each other friends even though we both know it’s more?”
He held your gaze but his expression was unchanged.
“You know you special to me. Ain’t nobody else got me like this.” His hands were roaming your thighs and hips now. His kisses made their way down your tummy, ending with a lingering one above your navel. “We know what it is, why we gotta go and complicate it?”
Before you could answer, the conversation died how it always did. With him between your legs and you too lost in pleasure to continue pressing. But truth be told, you were tired of being his favorite option instead of the only one.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
By the time the weekend came you’d made your decision. You had spent enough time waiting around on Elias to finally claim you. Your mama taught you at a young age that you should never beg a man for anything. What one won’t do, another will. And it was for this reason that you finally said yes to Malik’s offer to take you out for dinner and drinks. He worked in the building next to you and had been chasing you for a while now. You had turned him down more than a few times hoping that Stack would finally put a label on things. But after your previous conversation with him, it was clear that wasn’t happening any time soon. So, today when Malik asked what you were doing that night while y’all ate lunch together, you told him the truth.
Nothing special.
You made your way to your car after work and settled your belongings in the passenger seat. Like clockwork, your phone lit up with a photo of Elias as it began to ring. You stared at the screen for a moment before opting out of answering. Friday nights had been you and Stack’s thing for months now. You would pick the take-out and he’d pick it up after work along with a bottle—or two— of wine for your movie night. It had become so routine that he never even considered you wouldn’t be attending.
By the time you got home your phone was ringing again. With a deep sigh, you answered this time.
“You a hard lady to get a hold of. Y’know, I was startin’ to think you were avoidin’ me.” He chuckled to himself. He was currently at the liquor store perusing different kinds of wine, hoping to find something you guys hadn’t tried before. “What you in the mood for tonight? White or red?”
You fidgeted with the sleeve of your shirt uncomfortably as you thought about how to respond. You didn’t necessarily want to lie to him, but you sure as hell weren’t gonna tell him the truth either. Your answer landed somewhere in the middle of those two options.
“I actually got plans tonight. Some of my girls wanna check out this new spot downtown.” Biting down on your lip nervously, you waited for his response. The other end of the line went so silent you almost thought he hung up.
“Stack?”
Stack was stunned silent. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t spent a Friday night with you. Even if you didn’t come to his place, usually he would just come to yours. The sudden change in routine made him deeply uncomfortable. But alas, he reluctantly quipped,
“Since when you busy on Friday’s? You seein’ somebody else or somethin’?” He was teasing but when you didn’t laugh, he leaned in closer. The silence was not comforting.
“Since tonight. My girls wanna see me, and it’s been a minute since I’ve been out.” You replied simply, suddenly growing irritated that he was prompting you to explain yourself. Stack swallowed and shifted awkwardly on his feet, nodding as if you could see him. He wanted to continue pressing the topic, ask the specific name of this new spot that was more interesting than him or his club. But his pride got the best of him.
“Aight…ladies’ night. Handle your business then, baby girl. Don’t have too much fun without me. Let me know when you make it in the house safe.”
You promised you would before quickly ending the call. The refusal did not sit well with Stack. He had recovered smoothly from your rejection in the moment, but now that the call was over, he was stuck staring at the same bottle of Moscato he had been holding for the past five minutes. It wasn’t like you to say no to him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
As much as he hated to admit it, Stack didn’t really have back up plans. He always reserved Friday nights for you no matter who else he was seeing. He sat on his couch for a while, sipping the wine he’d picked for the two of you earlier. He scrolled through his recent messages debating who he should hit up, if anyone. Honestly, his roster had been thinning out the more attached he became to you. They just weren’t like you. They didn’t laugh like you or smell like you, and the more time he spent with you the more intoxicating your presence became to him.
Truth be told, he was disappointed. Stack kept a line up. There was no shortage of women in his life— he could have anyone he wanted within a single text or call. But you were his favorite. There wasn’t anyone else he wanted to lay up with and kiss on but you. With other women, he usually just skipped to the main event. Minimal foreplay, surface level conversation. Nothing like what he had with you.
Stack’s train of thought was interrupted by his phone ringing. He snatched it from the cushion next to him, nearly dropping it as he tried to answer. A disappointed groan made its way from his mouth when he realized it was just one of his homeboys. Not you. He’d never admit it, but he was hoping that maybe you would change your mind and decide to stay in with him after all— even though he’d never ask.
“Yo” He answered boredly.
“Aye, Stack. What you on tonight? Lil’ Ms. Fine as hell over there?”
Stack chuckled and shook his head. It was no secret that you were the finest woman on his roster, and again, his absolute favorite. You were the only woman he had a silent claim over.
“Naw, she’s with her girls. Said somethin’ about a new spot openin’ up downtown, I don’t know.” he felt his annoyance bubbling to the surface again as he reiterated your words. He had no right to feel possessive over your time, but he couldn’t help it.
“Yeah we gon’ head over there too. You tryna pop out?”
Stack fixed his mouth to say no. He was aware that it was probably clingy to follow you to the exact place you told him you would be—on the one night you’d taken space from him. Still, the idea that he could feign bumping into you, and that maybe through a turn of events you would end up ending the night with him after all, got the best of him. And there was still something ugly and jealous tugging at him about the way you never answered when he asked if there was someone else.
“Yeah I’ll meet y’all over there. Gimme like 45.” He ended the call with his homeboy and went straight to his closet.
Girls night, huh? He tutted to himself as he scanned his clothing, looking for something to wear. Unfortunately for you, he was about to crash your party.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Any time Elias Moore stepped into the building, he was the main attraction. The SmokeStack twins were known by people clear across the Mississipi delta— and in other places too. Tall tales and fables alike had been whispered through the grapevine for years now. Stories about men who’d encountered the twins but never lived to tell the tale. Gossip about the havoc they wreaked in Chicago prior to returning to their little hometown… mysteriously, with enough money to open a club of their own.
Stack didn’t do lines. Upon arriving to the club, hushed whispers and watchful eyes oriented toward him immediately. There was a confident swagger in his walk as he headed straight to the front of the line, like he always did. He slipped a crisp $50 bill to the bouncer out of respect before dapping him up. Then, he made his way inside. No fuss, no muss.
Vibrant neon lighting flashed across the club, highlighting its lively crowd. Music thumped through the floors and radiated into Stack’s chest. The crowd parted instinctively for him as he found his way through the room. Women stared lustfully, admiring his confident walk and the million-dollar smile he’d flash if you were lucky enough. Stack was fly, it was no secret. He only wore the best and he was always iced out.
“How you doin’, daddy?” a tall, slim woman cooed as Stack brushed past her. His gaze raked over her, and he nodded in acknowledgement as he made his way into his section. If he wasn’t VIP, he wasn’t attending.
“Stacks-A-Billion! You made it. My nigga finally got from up under that girl and graced us with his presence.” Donte clapped Stack on his back and pulled him into a brotherly hug. The other men at the table did the same, greeting him one by one like he was a don.
The night was smooth at first. Real smooth. Stack was in the middle of chopping it up with one of his old flings who he’d cut loose when his eyes caught a familiar face. There you were. He froze completely as he took you in.
You were wearing all black. Leather shorts that sat on your hips low and hugged them just right and a lace-up sleeveless biker top. Black heels adorned your feet, and you were wearing your signature gold jewelry. The corner of his lips twitched upward into a smile involuntarily and he licked them as he took in your appearance.
However, the smile quickly dropped from his face when he realized that your girlfriends were nowhere to be found. Instead— you were with some tall guy. Stack looked hard and long to ensure he wasn’t imagining things.
Nope. No girlfriends. This was definitely a date.
Immediately, Stack tuned out the woman that had been talking to him. The music in the club dulled to a thumping pulse, and suddenly he had tunnel vision. He couldn’t help the possessive ugly feeling that arose deep in his chest as he watched the man’s hand brush the small of your back when he leaned in to whisper something to you.
You didn’t see him for several minutes. But when you did— your eyes locked with his. You were caught. Completely and totally caught red-handed in the act. Stack stayed where he was, but he held the piercing stare long enough that you wished you could disappear. Then, he turned back to his boys as if nothing had happened.
It stayed like that for a short while. Stack kept mingling, talking to people who approached him. He managed to make it through half of another drink before he became so consumed with a silent possessive rage that he turned from his boys mid-conversation and headed straight over to you. The crowd parted for him like the red sea.
“ ’Scuse me patna, I need to talk to her for a second.”
Malik looked startled, he hadn’t seen him approach. He looked like he wanted to say no, looking between the two of you as the tension rose. Apparently, he waited two seconds too long, because Stack increased his proximity to the man with one large step, a cold stare closed the rest of the distance between them.
“I ain’t askin’, I’m tellin’ you. Don’t get hurt boy.” He snarked; tone laced with southern venom. And with that, Malik scrammed.
Stack grabbed your bicep, gentle enough not to hurt you— but with enough force that you knew now was not the time to test him. He guided you to the backdoor of the club and slammed it open. The cold air kissed your hot skin and instinctively made you flinch.
“Let go of me, Elias” you snapped, snatching your arm away once it was just the two of you. He turned toward you with a look that made it hard to pinpoint his emotions.
“Who the fuck is that?” He snapped back. You looked away towards the busy street and crossed your arms defensively. The distant sound of impatient drivers filled the silence.
“A friend.”
He sucked his teeth and responded, “Don’t gimme that shit girl, a friend? I just watched how that nigga was lookin’ at you, and it ain’t nothin’ holy or friendship-like on his mind.” Stack was trying to remain as calm as he could given the situation.
“We grabbed food and decided to stop by for a drink, that’s all” you sighed. You rubbed your temples out of frustration. Why the hell was he even here? Stack’s eyebrows lifted at your confession. He stepped closer and cocked his head to the side.
“Fuck you mean y’all just had dinner? That’s what we doin’ now? You goin’ on two-part dates with random niggas?” Now his voice was starting to raise. He looked away in an effort to find his composure, but he felt his heart beating fast with panic. This was the second part of the date?
“I’m not your girlfriend, Elias! I can see who I want, why do you care anyway.” Your voice rang out sharp and shrill against the brick walls of the alley.
Instantly, his head snapped back towards you. He stepped closer. One step, then another, until your back was against the cold brick wall behind you. One of his palms came up beside your head and he leaned in close enough that you could tell what liquor he’d been sipping on. His eyes flicked from your eyes down to your lips, and back again. Almost like he was trying to make sure they were the same as they were the last time he’d tasted them— untouched by anyone else.
“If you ain’t mine…why you lyin’ to me ‘bout who you with, baby?”
And for that, you did not have an answer. You simply looked at him blankly. After a long hard stare, you scoffed and pushed him by his chest away from you, refusing to give him an answer that he already had. You turned around to make your way back inside to find your date. He was probably scared shitless.
“Tell ol’ boy don’t get caught alone in no dark alleys.” Stack’s voice rang out sharp from the alley as you walked away. You rolled your eyes hard.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A week went by after your encounter with Stack at the club. You’d sent texts, called a few times. He was radio silent. He had stopped randomly popping up at your place with tokens of his affection, and he hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to you himself. Your last text which read, “How long are you gonna do this? Say something” had been delivered nearly 12 hours earlier and he still hadn’t responded.
You were in the middle of sulking and smashing a bag of hot Cheetos when your phone pinged. A soft gasp escaped you and you quickly picked it up.
Lias ❤️🔥: You ain’t mine right? Lose my number.
Your heart sank as you re-read the message. So he gets to keep a revolving door of women, but you go on one date now you’re the bad guy? Furiously, you typed out your next response. Your jaw dropped when you pressed send and the message went green.
He blocked me you gasped to yourself.
A few hours went by, and it never came. You kept waiting for it— a slick little follow up, the way he always did when he knew he had gone just a little too far. The response sat final in the text thread. You stared at it until your screen went black. You guys had fights in the past but never like this. Stack had never shut the door completely before, really he had never fully opened it either. But this time felt different.
Fine.
From that moment, it was on. You started answering Malik’s calls on the second ring, you let him take you out to dinner, and when he asked you if he could see you two nights in a row you said yes. One night, he kissed you outside the restaurant after the date. He waited to see if you’d pull away, instead you leaned in deeper. The kiss felt nothing like Stack’s. But the attention was real and constant, and it was better than the half-ass relationship Stack had been giving you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Four days. That’s how long Stack lasted before he tried to fill the void you left behind.
The woman’s name was Tasha, she was real thick and real bold too. He met her at his club, she was staring him down like she heard all the rumors about him and wanted to know if they were true. This night, she’d been looking extra hard, and Stack was always aware of watchful eyes.
He took her back to his place with full intent on giving her what she was looking for. Another easy and forgettable night with a face he probably wouldn’t remember in a few months unless they gave him a reason to.
The night started off easy enough once they made it back to his place. Tasha started kissing on him while he was preparing drinks, talking about all the things she wanted to do to him. Her perfume was too sweet and sharp in a way that made him miss the signature fragrance you always wore. Stack wandered over to the couch and sat down, legs spread wide. Tasha was on him immediately, she straddled him without waiting for an invitation, rolling her hips real slow like she already knew what he liked.
Out of habit, he rested his hands on her waist. His fingers didn’t dig in or stroke, wander to her ass, he just sat there looking bored. Tasha continued to pepper kisses across his jaw and he allowed it. But when she made her way to his lips— he turned his head sharply.
The woman’s body tensed and she pulled away with a frown.
“You good?”
“I’m straight.”
Hesitantly Tasha got back into her groove, dragging her nails down his chest. The silence stretched and he could feel her getting frustrated in the way her body tensed. Still, he kept the same bored expression.
“You sure you good? Cause you actin’ real bored for a man who invited me over.”
Finally, Stack looked at Tasha. She was pretty. Nice body, pretty smile. There wasn’t anything wrong with her, but still Stack didn’t feel a pull low in his belly or any urge to flip her under him. There was no interest in hearing what she sounded like when she came or moaned his name. He just kept thinking about you. How your thighs slotted perfectly over his and how your mouth always tasted like whatever chapstick you’d chosen that day.
“Yeah, you right. I think you should go.” He mumbled, gently lifting Tasha off him by her hips. She didn’t move from where he placed her on the couch. She continued to sit, staring at him in blatant disbelief.
“You serious right now?”
Stack stretched and reached over, grabbing the remote. He clicked a button and the television came on, filling the silence of the room.
“Yeah.”
If looks could kill Stack would’ve been six feet under.
Tasha rose from the couch hastily, snatching her bag from the coffee table before leaving. The door slammed behind her harder than it needed to and the echo of it sounded through the apartment. Still unphased, Stack let out a heavy sigh as he started flicking through different movies on Netflix. He kept the tv on, letting it consume the silence. Quiet had never bothered him before you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Smoke stopped by to check on Stack two days later. Ever since they were in the womb, he knew when something was wrong with his twin. He didn’t knock when he stopped by, he always came in unannounced. Smoke walked into the kitchen and dropped the greasy takeout bag on the counter. He looked his twin over like he was diagnosing how bad the heartbreak was— and he’d never seen it this bad. Not even with Mary.
“You look like shit. Y’ain’t been sleepin’, have you?”
Stack was sitting motionlessly, halfway watching a basketball game with no idea of who was in the lead.
“I’m fine, what you got to eat?”
Smoke nodded his head silently as he started unpacking the food. But he didn’t leave the topic alone just yet.
“Y’all still on that silent treatment?” Now it was Stack’s turn to ignore the question, that was all the confirmation his brother needed. “Once you start catchin’ feelings, nobody else taste the same. Y’know that right?”
At this, Elias shot his twin a look that said leave it be.
“Ain’t nobody catchin’ feelings.”
“You put that fine ass stallion out the other day ‘cause she wasn’t the one you wanted in yo lap.” Smoke’s voice stayed flat, bored almost. “That sound like not catchin’ feelings to you?”
The temperature in the room stayed the same despite the heaviness of Elijah’s words. As much as Elias wanted to curse at his brother and tell him he was wrong, he was right. Still, he mumbled an annoyed “whatever” and sat across from him at the table, fighting back a smirk when he noticed his favorite Indian food.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Bad news came the next Tuesday. The gym had put a hurting on Stack, and he was making his way from his car to his front door when Smoke pulled up. Evening was settling over the city, and his shirt was still clinging to his back with sweat from his work out.
“I got bad news.” Smoke said simply. Stack wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt as he slowly approached his brother’s car. If it warranted an in person visit, it was more than bad.
“What.”
“Saw ya girl at the comic bookstore on 5th street. She was with ol’ boy from the club, tall nigga.”
Stack went totally still and the towel in his hand stopped moving over his neck.
“She still dealin’ with dude?”
Shrugging once, Smoke held his hands up. “Look like it to me. They was walkin’ out together and he was holdin’ a bag for her. Looked real comfortable if y’ask me.” He took in his twin’s ragged appearance before adding, “If you love that girl don’t wait too much longer. He got plans for her. I can tell.” That was all. He didn’t comment further, ask what his brother planned to do, or offer further advice. He delivered the last sentence and held Stack’s stare for a second longer than necessary before leaving.
When the conversation with his twin ended, Stack stood in his living room for a long while thinking hard. It was one thing for y’all to be at the club, but a bookstore date? Nah. That’s too close to home. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you going on real dates with this man. Smiling at whatever stupid thing he said, letting him touch you. The uncomfortability of it all settled deeper under his skin the longer he pictured it like a petulant sunburn. You weren’t even trying to hide that you were dealing with this guy anymore. You were just out here, dating in the open like he’d never put his mouth between your legs and made you shake.
Autopilot mode was the only way to describe Stack’s thought process once he entered the shower. The night at the club kept replaying behind his eyelids. The way you looked at him when he caught you. How you went back to Malik instead of staying, instead of going home with him. And especially— how you kept seeing this man even after Stack had told you to lose his number. Pride and jealousy wrenched together in his gut until he couldn’t tell which hurt worse.
When the water from the shower was cut off, he had already made his decision. The only way through this was to make you his. Quickly, he got dressed. Grey sweatpants a black t shirt, and the chain you always played with when you sat in his lap. He was out the door before the water had even fully dried on his skin.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
By the time Stack was halfway to your place he was fully dry and his thoughts had unfogged enough for his good sense to be activated. He couldn’t come over empty handed. He shook his head at the thought of coming to your place and agitating you without having food to soothe you after. Only a fool would do something so stupid. So, like a good boy, he stopped and ordered your favorite food and grabbed your preferred wine and some flowers for good measure. His elders always taught him you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
The bags sat in the passenger seat of the car and Stack kept looking over at the flowers like they might disappear if he didn’t check. By the time he pulled up at your place he had rehearsed what he wanted to say a million times over in his head. He was coming to fix things, and he brought things you liked because some part of him thought it might make a difference. He knocked on your door in that familiar rhythm only he used. You knew it was him without checking the peep hole.
When you swung the door open, your attitude was on full display. There he was, bags in one hand and flowers in the other. The familiar scent of his soap clung to his skin and his hair was still damp. The second he laid his eyes on you his expression softened and he forgot everything he planned to say. Except for,
“You datin’ niggas now?” His voice was pained and tight. Your gaze dropped to the items he was holding and drifted back up to his face. Grudingly, you stepped to the side and allowed him to come in.
He watched with greedy eyes as you sauntered into the kitchen to grab wine glasses, hips switching and jiggling your ass as you walked.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is a man who told me to lose his number actin’ brand new?” You grumbled, avoiding eye contact. Stack shut the door behind him with a quiet click. The bags were set down with more care than his voice had. Suddenly, the space felt a lot smaller than it did before. Stack crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes moved over your face like he was looking for something.
“You out here goin’ on dates, my patnas tellin’ me you still spendin’ time with ol’ boy after I caught y’all at the club.” Your expression remained unchanged as you uncorked the wine and began pouring the glasses. “Why you bein’ like this?”
When you still didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow in annoyance, he increased his proximity. You felt the solid heat of him against your back. He wasn’t touching you— yet. Just letting you feel the warmth of him against you. Then, he brushed his lips against the back of your neck and said,
“Tell me baby. Why you doin’ me like this, hm? Like I ain’t never stroked you so deep you cried for me ‘cause it felt so good… like this lil body don’t react every time I touch it.” As if on cue he pressed his lips against the side of your neck and you let out a soft involuntary sound, leaning back into him instinctively.
“You made the rules stack. Don’t get mad when I finally start playin’ by ‘em. And you damn sure don’t just get to show up with food and these sorry ass flowers like that fixes everything.”
He pressed his back against your chest fully now and mumbled, “Look at me.” When you didn’t, he gently turned you in his arms by your waist. His voice was barely above a whisper when it came out. “I don’t wanna see you with nobody else. I don’t wanna think about somebody else knowin’ how sweet those pretty lil moans sound when you get like that. So I need you to tell me it still belong to me.”
The audacity of this man was astonishing honestly. You stared at him unblinking. The raw honesty in his voice almost had you until you remembered that last nasty text he’d sent. Then your eyes sharpened.
“I’m not yours. You never claimed me.”
“I’m claimin’ you now” he replied simply, as if it was obvious.
“No” you shook your head firmly. “You only sayin’ that because somebody else wants me. You comin’ over here today doesn’t change that.” His hands came to rest on either side of you on the counter, trapping you in between his arms.
“I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I mean it. I’m done pretending I don’t”
When he leaned in, you instinctively leaned back. You held his gaze for a moment and he respected the distance. It lasted for only a second. Once his thumb brushed over the exposed skin of your belly, you allowed him to catch your waist and pull you in. Initially the kiss was pride and anger. Teeth and tongue, both looking for dominance.
The second time your lips joined, it was slow enough for him to slide his tongue against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. A small sound escaped your lips without permission, and Stack’s breathing changed when he heard it. By the time you went in for a third kiss, you were on top of the counter and he was fully between your legs spreading them wider. His hands were roaming under your shirt like he’d been starving for the feel of you.
“You still mad, I know.” he said the words in between needy kisses. “But I know you missed me just as much as I missed you.” He voice had dropped several octaves and it was rough with lust. Your pulse quickened against his lips as he kissed your throat and he squeezed your hips to show he noticed.
“Fuck you, Stack”
“Oh I’m bout to, baby. Don’t even worry that pretty lil head.”
With that, he lifted you from the counter and you reflexively wrapped your legs around his waist. Straight to the bedroom you went.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Clothes hit the floor in random pieces until they were all gone. Stack made himself comfortable between your legs and gazed over your features as if he was still deciding how nice he was gonna be to you. Whatever he saw made his pupils become more dilated with lust— most likely your stubborn unwillingness to secede. When he kissed you his tongue moved slow and thorough like he was trying to make you forget every bit of the argument you two had.
A hand drifted between your legs and he groaned against your lips when he found that you were already wet for him. His eyes flicked down to your sex and back to your face, watching your expression closely as he slid his middle and ring finger inside you. A satisfied grin made its way across his features when your lips parted and your lashes fluttered against your cheekbones.
“This pussy gon’ tell me it missed me even if you don’t.” he cooed as he continued his torment, curling his fingers just right against that spongy spot inside you. Your thighs twitched and a shaky breath passed your lips. Your hips chased his fingers and he drank in every little pleasured expression greedily. He paid close attention every time your expression changed.
“Tell me it’s mine” he murmured. When you shook your head stubbornly, he used his other hand to push your—his— t-shirt under your collarbones and just above your breasts. He latched a hot mouth to your areola, drawing a surprised cry from you as he suckled your nipple gently into his mouth. Your refusal to give in to him ignited something. A third finger joined the others and pressed harder, thumb circling your clit with precision until your thighs started shaking.
“Say it baby, stop playin’ with me. This pussy loves me just as much as I love you.”
A small squeak escaped you as your hips chased his hand desperately. You’d been craving his touch just as much as he’d been craving your presence in his bed at night. Still, in all your stubbornness, you uttered,
“Make me”
When the words he desired never passed your lips, he withdrew his fingers and sucked them into his mouth, holding your eye contact steadily as he tasted your essence. Hungrily, you tugged at his sweats. Stack drew his teeth between his bottom lip when his length sprung free, hard, thick, and leaking pre-cum. You nearly drooled at the sight, not having seen it in two weeks. Before you could touch him, he shifted you onto your back. And before you knew it, your calves were pinned on either side of your hips.
Stack dropped his forehead to yours as he gently dragged the head of his dick between your folds, nudging your clit intentionally each time. He waited until your expression grew needy with want before gently pushing past your entrance. He stretched you slowly, head dropping further into your neck the further he sank into you. When he was buried inside you, he let out a deep exhale. Like he’d been homesick and was finally home.
“Fuck— I missed bein’ this deep inside you. You feel that baby?” He lifted his head now, longingly staring into your irises. “That’s me puttin’ it back where it belong. Go on dates if you want, keep lettin’ that nigga buy you books. But this right here still answer to me. Say it.”
Instead of answering you whimpered and the sound make his stomach tighten. He adjusted his angle so that the head of his dick massaged intensely into that swollen bundle of nerves that only he seemed to find so easily. Your eyes flew open and a high-pitched moan flew past your lips. His breathing hitched as he watched the way your lips trembled. Something real close to satisfaction settled over his features.
“Yeah, that’s it baby. Whenever I kiss that lil spot just right you start shakin’ for me. Keep them pretty eyes on me. Wanna see what you look like when you finally stop fightin’ it.”
And true to his word, he stayed right on that spot. Your walls started fluttering around him and he noticed the change immediately. He slowed his strokes, deliberately dragging them out to hear you moan real pretty for him. When your first orgasm hit, your mouth fell open and your eyes went glassy. Stack drew his bottom lip between his teeth as the sight and kept grinding through it, relishing in the way your expression grew desperately needy.
“That’s one. Still ain’t said it though.”
You were still riding through the aftershocks of your first orgasm when he hooked both your legs over his arms and folded you deeper into the mattress. The new angle forced a high-pitched sound he hadn’t heard before from your lips and his eyebrows rose in both enjoyment and surprise.
“Stack— wait. Too much” you stuttered through deep breaths.
“Nah. You said make you, right?” He ground against that small bundle nerves in slow circles and your face twisted with ecstasy. Stack’s own expression tightened with hunger as he watched you. “So I’m gon’ make you. Say it belong to me.”
Unwilling to relent, you shook your head even as waves of pleasure crashed through your core. He saw the refusal sitting behind your eyes and his strokes got meaner, more precise and deliberate. Your stomach clenched again and your thighs trembled against his arms. He felt every little flutter and took pleasure in knowing the words he desired were an orgasm away.
“Say it, baby.”
“It’s yours Elias, it’s yours.” You cried as your second orgasm rose slowly but intensely. His eyes closed and the words fell over him like a prayer. The confession hit him harder than expected. When he opened them again, he was completely focused and he drove deeper.
“Again” he mumbled against your lips.
“It’s yours” you whimpered brokenly. He leaned down and brushed his lips over yours. Not really kissing, just letting you feel the soft heat of his mouth against yours while he kept up that focused rhythm between your legs. Every time the head of his dick dragged over that spot, your pussy clenched and fluttered around him.
“Stack—” you stuttered, voice still shaking. “It feel… it feel so good when you dig in me like that. Right there, please, I think I’m gon cum again”
He moaned softly against your lips, a low intimate sound that was pulled deep from his chest. He kept repeating that same motion, intentionally grinding into that little spot over and over again in relentless strokes. He watched your face the whole time. His eyes tracked the way your brows furrowed and how your lips parted every time he pushed inside you a little deeper. The orgasm started pulling out of you in long, drawn out waves. Those little sounds that Stack had missed so dearly kept spilling past your lips as you creamed around him in messy gushes. His jaw went tight when he felt it.
Right as the orgasmic wave hit its peak, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His were dark with need.
“Open”
You opened your mouth without hesitating, and he let a string of saliva drop from his lips onto your tongue. The second it landed you swallowed and your orgasm intensified hard. Your pussy clenched around him in intense, rhythmic pulses and another rush of cream squelched around his dick. The wet sounds got obscenely loud and Stack’s gaze stayed locked on your face. He admired the way your expression cracked even further, like the sight of it was doing something to him.
“That’s it, good girl baby.” He groaned against your mouth. “Take it just like that. Let me feel how wet you get when I stroke it real deep like this. Tell me again. Who it belong to?”
“You” you sobbed, completely fucked out at this point. “It’s yours, Stack. I promise.”
Something in his expression softened and he kissed you deep and slow while he continued fucking you through the aftershocks, never fully letting the overstimulation fade.
“I got you, mama. This stays mine. These legs stay open for me… this soft lil pussy only gon’ get wet like this for me. Promise me.”
“Yes, anything. You can have whatever you want. This pussy’s yours” your voice was still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.
“Fuck— gon’ make me cum talkin’ to me like that girl” he growled. Only when you had promised yourself to him several times over and your body was trembling non-stop did he bury himself as deep as you’d take him. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he came, and a low, primal sound left his chest while his dick pulsed hard inside you. He watched your pretty face the whole time, like he needed to see you were taking it.
After, he stayed inside you, still breathing hard. One hand stroked over your hip where it met your belly like he still couldn’t believe you’d given yourself to him like this. His pupils were still dilated and searching your face.
“You mine. That ain’t changin’” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question. Just a fact he decided to force into existence. You didn’t answer. You were still shaking and your adrenaline was still pumping. The anger hadn’t fully subsided yet but something warm and tender was taking its place. He kissed you again, slower and deeper this time, and still didn’t pull out.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
please respect my work 💌
Everything posted here is written by @brownsugarletters. Please do not repost, copy, translate, claim as your own, upload to AI tools, or share my writing outside of Tumblr without permission.
I put a lot of care into these stories, so please keep them here and respect my space.
Destiny tour Michael who is missing his girlfriend singer!reader. She goes to a show to surprise him. After it ends she’s backstage and he sees her excitedly pulling her to his dressing room. They talk and eventually start making out. One of his brothers comes in and Michael makes a gesture telling him to leave.
🍫summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend and he shows just how much he misses you!
The bass of “Wanna be startin’ somethin’” shook the stadium. The beat vibrated against your feet, as you clapped your hands and sung along with Michael from backstage. After weeks of sweet talking on the phone, and him whining about how much he misses you, you finally booked a flight.
No one knows you were at their concert other than Marlon who begged you to fly down because Michael was getting on his last nerve bringing you up. You stood to the side, hair tucked in a baseball cap, black shades on, along with a grey hoodie. If anybody in the crowd even caught a glimpse of you, this would be all over the tabloids.
Being two upcoming singers that get a lot of traction came with its perks and cons. A con being once you get noticed, you have to attempt to make it out alive and survive the media.
Times where you expected a nice private outing with Michael sometimes ended with you being chased by paparazzi. Michael was constantly stressed about it while you were mainly worried about how the photos turned out.
As the show came to a close, you maneuvered your way through the staff. A smile was etched into your face, heart beating from finally getting to see him after so long. Their crew was scattered, speaking through headsets, and clearing a way for the boys.
Some of the staff greeted you as you walked towards the dressing room area. You waved back with a kind smile as you finally made it to his door. A large gold star on the front read “Michael” in black print.
You pushed the handle down, and luckily it was already unlocked—you need to bring that up later, that’s so dangerous. As you walked in, the AC hit you, covering your arms with goosebumps. The space was clean for the most part other than the vanity that was covered in makeup and hair products scattered around
You took a seat on the plush dark red couch, taking off the hoodie, baseball cap, and black shades. Laughter from outside of the door hit your ears along with the sound of multiple footsteps.
He’s here!
His familiar chuckle came loud through the door as the handle pushed down. You held your breath, jittering in excitement. He walked in, sweat rolling down his face and his curls were wet and slinky against his skin. Once his eyes landed on you, he stopped in his tracks, mouth dropping open.
You gave him a smile, standing from the couch. As if he finally snapped out of his trance, “MAMA!” He ran towards you, arms wrapping around your figure while he lifted you. “Hi Mikey.” You giggled as he spun you around.
“What are you doing here?” He set you down, “I missed you so much.” His arms were glued to you, refusing to be removed from your body.
“I missed you too, duh! That’s why I’m here.” You told him. “What about your performances?” He asked eyebrows furrowed. Even in the midst of his excitement, he’ll find a way to check in on you.
“All of that is handled Mikey, I promise.” You reassured. His lips met yours in a passionate, loving kiss. Soft and gentle. You melted into his arms finally feeling him after what felt like years.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, wet tongue gliding across your lips. God, you missed this. His hands brought you closer trying to mesh you both into one.
You felt your calves hit the couch and he slowly laid you down, not taking his lips off of yours. Too caught up in his hand roaming your waist, and his tongue sweeping against yours, you didn’t notice the door crack open. But Michael did.
Not removing his lips from yours, still keeping an intimate, nasty rhythm, he opened his eyes. Jermaine stood in the doorway with his eyes wide and a smirk forming on his face.
Any other time he may have pulled away but finally seeing his girl after all these years—it’s only been weeks—and the erection stirring in his pants, he didn’t have time for all that.
As one hand continued rubbing up your body, he used the hand closest to Jermaine to shoo him away. A small waving motion for him to get out.
Jermaine shot two thumbs up, proud of his brother who he secretly thought was going to be a shy, nervous man all his life. Finally making his way out of the door, Jermaine quietly shut the door.
Hearing the small click, you pulled away from Michael, eyebrow raised. “You heard that?” You asked. Michael shook his head, “probably just the staff outside.” Before you could respond, Michael’s lips found yours again and a small gasp left your mouth.
His hands trailed under your shirt, brushing against your warm skin. He pressed his body further into you and you felt his stiff length against your thigh.
“I need you so bad.” He mumbled against your lips. His kisses trailed down your neck, trying his best to not leave hickeys.
“Have me, Mikey.” You breathed out.
•••
“O-oh my God.” You panted, doing your best to be quiet. The vanity shook with every thrust from Michael who stood behind you. “Look at my pretty mama.” He cooed, grasping and squeezing your face with one hand.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, black mascara running down your plump cheeks. “You takin’ it so good.” His dick stretched you out, making your legs quiver and you struggled to hold yourself up.
“I missed you so much, mama.” Soft, gentle kisses pressed against your back. The warm embrace of Michael’s arms wrapped around you along with the deliberate, slow strokes he delivered was absolute bliss.
“I-I missed you too.”
Products from the vanity rattled and you would’ve cared about them falling but all you could focus on was the friction of his dick inside of you. One of his hands moved towards your sensitive nipple, and gently rolled it between his thumb and index.
Your legs quivered, tippy toes against the floor as he angled his hips. “M-Michael, slow down,” your hand reached back to press against his hip. “I need you to cum, mama.”
The skin slapping filled the room, no secret to whoever was passing by. Fingers pressing firmly into your waist, he tugged you back to meet his thrust.
“Oh, fuck.” You cried, palms flat on his vanity as you slightly shifted forward from the pressure. “Mama, please stop running. I need this pussy.” He mumbled, bringing you back towards him.
One thing about dating Michael is you found out how filthy he truly was. Just as everyone else, you also believed the facade he put on was true. And to some extent it was.
He’s sensitive, caring, kind and loving but naive, innocent, and scary wasn’t on the list. He never hesitated to tell you just how badly he needs to feel you wrapped around him.
Those weeks of phone calls contained sounds of him panting and moaning, telling you what he’s going to do the next time he saw you.
And clearly his words remained true.
“Y-you have to go soon.” You whimpered, holding yourself up with all the strength you had left. “I know, mama.” He grasped your throat with one hand, bringing the back of your head to rest on his shoulder. “That’s why I gotta fill you up as much as I can.”
A small photo frame of you and Michael embracing each other shook next to you on the vanity. The sweet smiles on your faces, both wearing Minnie and Mickey ears were a complete contrast to both of you in the moment.
Drool ran down your chin, his shirt was halfway off, and his grip was so tight he’d probably leave bruises on your dark skin.
“I feel you clenching, mama.”
Wet, dripping arousal rolled down your thighs, and your pussy squeezed around him in a consistent rhythm. The tight knot in your stomach snapped as you creamed around him. Every drag of Michael's hips pulled out more of your cum.
"Mhm, good girl." He bit his bottom lip, throwing his head back. He was so deep in you, he never wanted to pull out. Hearing your pretty moans has been nothing but heaven for him, a treat after a hard working show.
“Oh my goodness.” He whispered. His breathing became labored, eyes tightly closed as his dick pulsed from his orgasm.
“I-I’m ‘bout to cum, mama. Where you want it?”
You looked at him through the mirror, hooded eyes watching the pleasure form on his face. “In me, Mikey.” You lifted your leg onto the vanity, spreading yourself open more for him.
Once he glanced down to see a clear view of him pumping in you, white cream sliding down his dick, he lost it. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck.” He groaned. As he sped up, products on the vanity began to fall.
Tubes of eyeliner, foundation, even the photo frame. It all fell to background noise for Michael as he focused on the warmth of your pussy. His hips stilled inside of you as he let out a low groan.
"Nnngh, mama, you feel so good."
Heavy breathing filled the room, and a light giggle left his mouth seeing both of you in the mirror, disheveled and dazed. A rapid knock was heard from the door, "Are y'all done? It's time to wrap it up." Jermaine yelled.
You groaned, placing your forehead on the vanity. "I can't believe I was that loud."
Jackson5 jackie jackson x black reader. lovely request .ᐟ
synopsis: we all know jackie was a very athletic person. He absolutely loved playing any & every sport you could think of. And he LOVED to win. Motown was having a charity sports day event, and the jackson 5 attended. And your group of sisters also attended that you were a part of, and surprisingly, jackie met his match with you.
warnings: slight cursing, enemies to lovers (?)
Motown charity sports event — 1975
you absolutely did not want to be at this event. You were practically dragged along having to come with your younger sisters keeping an eye over them and also having to participate because you were also apart of the group. Right now currently you were in the backseat of the van on your way to the event extremely annoyed with the fact you were gonna be all sweaty and etc.
You sucked your teeth, "can you scoot over, damn." You looked at your younger sister, jasmine. "You just mad for nothin huh?" She said, eyes looking you up and down playfully, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Girl, please not right now, this event is really not my cup of tea, sports?, really??" You said dramatically. But behind that laziness of yours, you were absolutely an amazing athletic person, before singing you ran track aiming to get a scholarship for it. You also played basketball here and there but still!, you hated the fact of going to events.
Once the car pulled to a stop, you and your five other siblings all scattered out the van, them just chatting while you looked around taking in the view around you. It was a big stadium, a basketball court and outside was a track and field area. It seemed fun. People were already outside chatting and some were already playing around, until your head looked in a different direction.
You turned your head looking at the basketball area and that's when your eyes landed on thee jackson five. You were practically a big fan of them, you listened to all their songs, you loved them. But today you were competing with them. So for the meantime those were your sworn enemies whether you liked it or not. But you'd be lying if you said that you didn't think one of the brothers didn't catch your eye and your other sister asia definitely noticed it.
"Whatca looking at (name)?" She said, her eyebrows raising slightly. You instantly snapped out of it. "Nothin girl, mind yours please." You said with a light chuckle looking in a different direction. "Mhmmm" Asia said as you and the rest of your sisters eventually started walking inside the building getting ready for the long eventful day.
As you walked inside the building, the guys had entered the court with easy confidence. Jermaine was tossing up casual warm-up shots, Michael was laughing and teasing Marlon, and Jackie was bouncing the basketball with a razor-sharp focus that immediately caught your attention. Everyone knew Jackie was the athlete of the family strong, fast, and intensely competitive.
What he didn't know was that you were every bit his match.
Soon the first match of basketball was about ti start. And to your greatest luck. Your team was going against the jacksons, you sighed and turned towards your sisters pulling them into a huddle. "Listen, whatever yall do don't embarrass me and let me down out there, or if you feel like you can't shoot the ball just pass it to me." You said seriously. "Just give it the best you got, alright?" You said looking at your siblings. They all said their little "yes" and cheered on, eventually walking out to the court. Your eyes immediately scanning the view in front of you, which landed directly on jackie.
From the moment the whistle blew, the casual "charity game" atmosphere melted away into pure, unadulterated competition. You stole the ball right off a pass meant for Tito, driving down the court with seamless precision. Before Jackie could block you, you executed a clean fake to the left, pulled up, and sank a jumper straight through the net.
The crowd erupted. Jackie stopped dead in his tracks, blinking in genuine disbelief before a smirk slowly spread across his face."Okay," he called out, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he fell into a tight defensive guard against you on the next possession. "I see how it is. You actually came to play."
"Did you think I came here to cheer, Jackson?" you teased, staying low with the ball, your eyes tracking his balance. "You better keep up boy."
"Watch me," he grinned. And he absolutely did make you watch, next thing you know the ball was out of your hand and the two of you were going toe to toe again and again. Eventually Jackie ended up making a shot, you were utterly in disbelief yelling out. "He cheated!" You said walking towards the referee. "Fair play ma'am, he made the shot." The referee said, you sighed rolling your eyes going back towards the court.
For the next two quarters, it was a total standoff. Every time Jackie drove to the hoop with that explosive athleticism of his, you were right there to contest the shot. Every time you made a break for the basket, Jackie was your shadow, matching your speed step-for-step. The rest of the team practically became spectators to the duel unfolding between the two of you.
"Jackie, pass the ball!" Michael yelled from the wing, half-laughing at how locked-in his older brother was.
Jackie barely heard him. His focus was entirely on you. You were breathing hard, hair slightly wild from the pace of the game, eyes blazing with determination. Every move you made was smart, athletic, and completely thrilling to watch. And he loved it, he loved how determined you were to win and to challenge him.
Once it was time for a water break, jackie sat on the bleachers taking a few tiny sips of water. His eyes zoned out. He couldn't believe that it was a girl competing with him and actually being this good. He was upset about it but also mesmerized by how amazing you were. Hell, you were practically as good as him and he admired that truly. Marlon noticed he wasn't paying attention and tapped his shoulder. "jackie, you listening man?" He asked.
"That girl," he pointed at you, you were all the way on the other side of the court. You were staring right back at him taking a drink of your water. "Her ass cheating and I know she is." He said setting his water bottle down to the side. Marlon and the rest of the brothers looked at jackie confused. Jermaine chimed in, "well....how can a person cheat if their the one that's battling you, this ain't a video game jackie. She's just good at what she do-" he said getting cut off by jackie. "Nah she cheating and ima prove it."
During a tight battle for a loose ball near the sideline, both of you dived at the exact same second. You grabbed the ball just as Jackie’s arms wrapped around it too. The force of the momentum sent you both tumbling onto the grass just outside the boundary lines. You landed with a light thud, him pinning the ball between the two of you as you rolled over, breathless. For a second, the loud cheering of the crowd faded out. You were lying on the grass with Jackie hovering just inches above you, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his dark eyes wide and fixed entirely on you.
Neither of you let go of the ball.
"You know..." he panted, a slow, breathtaking smile breaking across his face, "...you're very lucky im goin easy on ya, girl." He smiled lazily, looking down at you. His face centimeters away from yours.
"Is that a compliment, or are you just mad I'm beating you?" you asked, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. "A little bit of both," he admitted, his voice dropping an octave, losing all of its competitive edge and replacing it with something warm and electric. "Mostly... I just think you're incredible."
You felt a flush hit your cheeks that had nothing to do with the summer heat. The fierce dynamic that had been building all afternoon suddenly flipped into pure, magnetic admiration. "You're not so bad yourself, Jackie," you softly murmured, holding his gaze.
Jackie’s smile softened, his eyes dropping to your lips for a brief second before locking back onto yours. "After this game... win or lose... let me buy you a soda? We can argue about who's actually the better shot."
"Deal," you smiled, giving the basketball one last firm tug. "But only if you admit right now that I had the best play of the day." he chuckled, offering you a hand and pulling you up to your feet with effortless strength, not letting go of your hand a second longer than necessary. "We'll let the scoreboard decide that," he winked, stepping back onto the court with a whole new kind of energy in his step.
The post-game music was booming through the speakers, and the rest of the Motown crowd was busy hovering around the food tables, but Jackie’s mind wasn’t on the barbecue.
He was standing by the cooler, clutching two ice-cold bottles of orange soda, trying and failing to look entirely calm. He ran a hand over his afro, checked his shirt, and took a steadying breath. On the court, facing off against thousands of fans or running plays was second nature. But walking up to you right now? His heart was doing a complete solo performance in his chest. Spotting you sitting on the edge of a picnic table, laughing with your friends, he took a breath and made his move.
"Ice cold, just like promised," Jackie said, stepping into your line of sight and extending a glass bottle toward you.
You looked up, wiping a sweat-dampened stray curl from your forehead, a knowing smirk already playing on your lips. "Look at you, a man of his word. I half expected you to run off and hide after that second-half disaster."
he let out a soft laugh, sitting down on the bench across from you, his long legs stretching out. "Disaster? Excuse me? We won by two points!"
"Because the referee gave Marlon a pity call in the last ten seconds and you know it," you replied smoothly, popping the cap off your soda with a satisfying clink against the edge of the table. You took a sip, holding his gaze over the rim. "If we had two more minutes, you’d be buying me a full dinner, not a ten-cent soda."
he shook his head, a bright, helpless grin spreading across his face. He leaned his elbows on his knees, completely charmed. "You’re slick in the mouth."
"I’m just honest, Jackson. There’s a difference."
"Right, right," Jackie chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, 'honest' or not, I haven't had that much fun on a court in... man, maybe ever. You've got a lethal jump shot."
"And you've got decent defense," you said, taking another sip. "For a pop star, anyway." After a while of you two talking about the game and laughing about something funny jackie had joked about, you both had to go for a few minutes to go back to your group to get interviewed about how the game went.
After the interviews and whatnot, you stood in front of him again. The two of you finding a low-key spot somewhere in a empty hallway where only a few people passed here and there. Jackie bit his lip, staring down at his bottle for a second before looking back up at you. The sudden shift from bold athlete to slightly hesitant suitor was impossibly sweet.
"So, uh..." he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, his smooth composure slipping just a fraction. "I was thinking. Since the ref basically robbed you of that victory..."
"Mmhmm?" You tilted your head, enjoying the rare sight of Jackie Jackson looking a little tongue-tied. "...Maybe we need a rematch," he said, stepping closer. "Just one-on-one. No ref, no brothers, no crowd."
"A rematch, huh?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the table. "I don't know, Jackie. My schedule's pretty tight. I don't just hand out rematches to anyone who loses to me."
"I didn't lose!" he protested with a laugh, before catching himself and lowering his voice, his dark eyes softening as he held your gaze. "Come on. Don't be like that. How am I supposed to call you to set up the court time if you don't give me your digits?"
You let out a quiet chuckle, crossing your arms. "Smooth transition. Did Michael write that line for you?" he gasped, pretending to be deeply offended, though the dimple in his cheek gave him away entirely. "My brother ain't give me nothin, I'm wayyyy more smoother than him!"
"Sure you are," you laughed.
"Look," he said, leaning in a little closer, his voice turning low and warm, dropping the banter for just a second. "I'm serious. I'd really love to take you out. No basketball required unless you want to prove me wrong again."
You looked at him for a beat, taking in the genuine smile and the hopeful look in his eyes. The slick talk was fun, but the real charm was how completely attentive he was to you right now. "Got a pen?" you asked, a soft smile finally replacing your teasing smirk.
his face lit up instantly. "Uh, yeah—wait, no, let me grab one from Jermaine—"
"Relax, big guy," you giggled, pulling a small notebook pen out of your back pocket. You grabbed a napkin off the picnic table, quickly writing down your seven digits in neat handwriting. You held the napkin out to him, but as he reached for it, you pulled it back half an inch. "Rules for calling," you said, holding his eyes. "No calling during my practice, no bringing your brothers on our first date, and you have to admit right now that my crossover in the third quarter was poetry."
he laughed, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against yours as he took the napkin, wrapping his hand around it like it was made of gold.
"Deal," he whispered, a brilliant, breathtaking smile spreading across his face. "I'll make sure I call you tonight beautiful, I'll catch you around alright?"
a/n: omg hey guys, I'm so sorry I was out all day and wrote this earlier and finished the rest of the half right now at 2 am. I'm so sorry if this is short and boring but like I'm so tired so maybe I'll cook up something else tmrw when I have more energy, I only wanted to put this out because i pinky promised and said I would drop it tonight so I do apologize if it's too short so maybe I'll post tmrw again tmrw with more energy, enjoy lovelies ! ؛ ଓ
Hi cutie! I’m definitely gonna need another Jermaine smut from you🤭 I don’t have a specific request but whatever you feel like writing is perfectly fine with me!
ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ᴀꜱ ꜱʜɪɪ | ᴊᴇʀᴍᴀɪɴᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ
، summary𓈒 you and maine are hungry for different things.
، pairing𓈒 Jermaine Jackson x black!fem!reader
، warnings𓈒 no use of y/n, jackie fine ass, ovulation, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), squirting, cum licking.
، notes𓈒 hey, cutie🫦…also sorry for taking so long on this anon, and everyone who loves this man, okay...enjoy my strange ladies.
، taglist𓈒 @uh444
You parked your car three blocks away from the Hayvenhurst gates, right under the shadow of an overgrown tree.
You sat there for a good five minutes, just letting the engine idle low, staring at your reflection in the rearview mirror, tapping your nails against your steering wheel. You fixed your hair, before checking your lip gloss in the dim light.
You were out your mind. Truly out your mind. It was going on one in the morning on a whole Tuesday, and here you were, acting like a thief in the night.
But see, the blame didn't even belong to you. It belonged to Jermaine and that damn voice of his.
Two hours ago, you were tucked up in your own bed, minding your business, trying to watch whatever late night rerun was playing. Then the phone rang. You picked up the receiver, and before you could even get a full "hello" out your mouth, that deep, sexy ass drawl came vibrating through the wire. He was talking about nothing at all- just humming, asking what you had on, telling you how quiet the house was, and laughing that low, rumbling laugh that always started in his chest.
And right now? You were right in the middle of your cycle. Ovulating down to your boots. Your body was betraying you, humming on the same exact frequency as his vocal cords. Every single word he said felt like a literal hand sliding down your stomach and into your panties to touch on your lil coochie. By the time he said, "You should to slide through, baby, I’m just chilling," you were already out of the sheets and looking for your keys.
You killed the headlights, slipped out the car, and closed the door, feeling like a woman on a mission.
Walking up to the perimeter of the Jackson estate at night was always a trip. The walls were high, the iron gates looked like they belonged to a fortress, and the security guards usually kept it locked down. But you’d been messing with Jermaine long enough to know the blind spots, the loose latches, and the exact shift changes. You slipped through the side pedestrian gate that you knew damn well wasn't clicking all the way shut right now, your flat sandals barely making a scrape against the stone walkway.
You breathed through your nose, your heart doing a little double tap against your ribs. If Katherine caught you sneaking around here at one o'clock in the morning, it was over for you. You’d never live down the shame of Mama Jackson looking at you sideways.
You made it to the back kitchen entrance, the one with the heavy glass door that led right into the living area. You pressed your hand against the glass, checking the lock. It yielded with a soft thud. Jermaine had left it cracked for you.
You slipped inside, the sudden blast of the central air conditioning hitting your warm skin and making your nipples instantly harden under your thin cotton tank top. You stood still in the dark living room, letting your eyes adjust, smelling the familiar scent of the house– expensive furniture polish, carpet cleaner, and...fried food?
You frowned, sniffing the air. The distinct, unmistakable aroma of seasoned oil, hot iron, and melting cheese was drifting through the hallway.
You crept forward, your feet silent on the cold floor of the living before transitioning onto the kitchen tile. The light from the kitchen stove hood was on, casting a warm, amber glow across the massive island.
You rounded the corner, expecting to see Jermaine standing there by his lonesome, maybe looking all smooth in a soft robe, waiting on you.
Instead, you froze.
Because there was two of 'em.
Jermaine was standing over a massive cast iron skillet, a spatula in his hand, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a white tank top that showed off every bit of his shoulders and arms.
And sitting right there on the counter, swinging his legs like he didn't have a care in the world, was Jackie.
Jackie had a half eaten piece of buttered toast in his hand, a glass of orange juice sitting next to his thigh, and he was right in the middle of laughing at something Jermaine said. He was wearing some shorts and a t shirt, looking like he’d just finished a workout or was about to start one, even though it was the middle of the night.
"I’m telling you, man, if you don't flip that now, it’s gonna burn," Jackie was saying, his voice a higher pitch than Jermaine’s, full of that brotherly agitation. "You let the grease get too hot."
"I know what I’m doing with the damn eggs, Jackie," Jermaine mumbled, his voice completely unbothered. He didn't even look up from the pan, his hips swaying just a fraction to some music only he could hear. "You eat your toast and stay outta my pan."
You stood there in the doorway, completely trapped. You couldn't back up because the floorboards behind you were creaky, and you couldn't slide past 'em because they were taking up the whole damn room.
You cleared your throat, just a little bit, trying not to scare 'em.
Jackie’s head snapped around first. His eyes went wide for a split second before a slow, wicked, completely knowing smirk spread across his face. He chewed his toast extra slow, leaning back against the upper cabinets.
"Well, well, well," Jackie drawled, loud enough to make Jermaine jump a little. "Look what the damn cat dragged in."
Jermaine turned around, the spatula still held mid air. When his eyes landed on you, a lazy, heavy eye lidded smile broke out across his face. He looked you up and down, taking in the tank top, the short shorts, and the look of irritation that was definitely settling onto your features.
"Hey, girl," Jermaine said, his voice dropping an octave, smooth as silk. He didn't even look embarrassed. He just looked pleased with himself.
"Hey," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way Jackie was grinning at you. "I didn't know it was a family reunion in here."
"Baby, don't mind him," Jermaine said, turning back to flip whatever concoction he had going on in that pan. It looked like some kind of massive, messy scramble with peppers, onions, and about three different types of cheese. "Jackie just down here being a nosey shmuck."
"Ain't nobody nosey," Jackie said, hopping down from the counter with an easy, athletic grace. He picked up his plate with the remaining crust of toast. "I was down here minding my stomach when this fool decided to come down and start a whole whole restaurant at one in the morning. And now I see why. You had to get your energy up, huh, J?"
"Man, shut up," Jermaine laughed, throwing a dish towel at his brother's head. Jackie ducked it easily, chuckling as he walked past you. “We ain’t even doing nothing.”
As Jackie got right next to you in the doorway, he paused, leaning in a little bit so only you could hear him. "He been talking about you for the last hour, girl. Good luck with him." He patted your shoulder, and started heading toward the stairs.
You watched him go, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You turned your attention back to Jermaine, who was now sliding the massive plate of food further onto the counter so it wouldn’t fall off of it. There were four slices of toast, eggs in the pan, and a side of leftover fried chicken he’d apparently reheated in the oven.
"You fixing to feed an army?" you asked, walking closer, the scent of him finally hitting you.
"I'm hungry, baby," Jermaine said, not even looking at you yet as he grabbed a fork and a knife from the silver drawer. "I didn't even think you was really coming. You took so long, I thought you went to sleep."
He said it with his mouth already half full of an onion piece he’d picked out the pan, his jaw working as he mumbled the words.
You walked up behind him, the heat radiating off his back pulling you in. You didn't hesitate. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist from behind, pressing your front against his back.
"Mmm," you murmured, your hands sliding down to the front of his sweatpants. You rubbed your palms over his flat, firm stomach, feeling the way his muscles tightened up instantly under your touch. Your long acrylics bit just a little bit into his skin through the fabric, your nails scratching lightly in slow circles up and down his midsection.
You leaned up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips against the warm skin of his neck. You kissed your way up to his jawline, leaving lingering, wet presses against his skin, biting down just a tiny bit on his shoulder.
Jermaine didn't even give a fuck. He just let out a low grunt, his body swaying just a fraction against yours, but he kept his eyes locked on that plate, spooning a little more onto it. He was playing with you, and you knew it. He loved the attention, loved the way you came in here starving for him, but he was going to take his sweet old time.
"You hungry?" he asked.
"Not for food," you whispered against his skin, your nails digging a little deeper into his hip bones.
"Mmm, oh."
Oh.
Oh?
You huffed, dropping your arms to stand next to him.
Here you were, driving through the night, your body practically on fire because of a phone call, and this man was standing here talking about eggs.
He stopped chewing for a second, holding the fork in mid air, a little piece of cheese hanging off the edge. He gave you that innocent, wide eyed look he always used when he knew he was pushing his luck.
"What?" he asked, his voice muffled by the food. "I gotta eat, right?"
"Jermaine."
"Come on upstairs with me," he said, completely ignoring your attitude as he picked up the heavy plate in one hand and a giant glass of sweet tea in the other. He used his elbow to nudge your hip. "Bring that napkin right there for me, will you?"
You sucked your teeth, a loud but you grabbed the cloth napkin anyway. You followed him out the kitchen, the two of you moving like two shadows through the long, carpeted hallways of Hayvenhurst.
Your eyes dropped down to his backside as you walked behind him. The way those sweatpants hung off his hips, framing his ass perfectly with every single step he took up those stairs; it was a problem. You let your eyes linger, your mouth going a little dry.
The man was gorgeous, even when he was being completely ridiculous, worried about a damn late night snack.
When you got to his bedroom, he pushed the door open with his foot and walked inside. The room was dark, and smelling faintly of incense. A single lamp was on by the bedside table, casting a warm light over the king sized bed that was unmade.
Jermaine set his plate down on the dark wood nightstand. He didn't even wait to sit down; he just leaned over the bed, took a huge bite of the fried chicken, and started chewing with an expression of bliss on his face.
You stood at the foot of the bed, your hands on your hips.
"So this is what we doing?" you asked, your voice dropping into that low tone. "I come all the way over here at two in the morning, and I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you perform an autopsy on some chicken?"
Jermaine swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before remembering the napkin you brought. He reached over and took it from you, giving you another one of those slow, lazy smiles.
"Baby, I told you, I didn't think you was coming," he said, his voice dropping into that tone that had gotten you into this mess in the first place. He reached out, his big, warm hand catching your wrist and pulling you gently toward him. "You know how long it take you to get ready. I thought you was home doing your hair or something."
"My hair was already done, Jermaine," you said, letting him pull you until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, but you kept your arms crossed. "You was on the phone talking all that stuff, making me think you was lonely. You didn't say nothing about having a whole buffet in here."
"I am lonely," he said, his eyes dropping down to your lips, then down to where your tank top met your shorts. He gave your wrist a little squeeze. "But a man can't be lonely and hungry at the same time? That's too much suffering for one person."
"You ain't suffering," you scoffed, looking down at the plate. The food actually did smell amazing, and your own stomach gave a little traitorous rumble.
Jermaine laughed. He picked up his fork, cut off a perfect piece of the egg scramble, right where the cheese was melted and stretchy, and held it up to your mouth.
"Here," he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. "Take a bite. Stop acting mean."
You looked at the fork, then at him. His eyes were full of that playful mischief that always won you over. You sighed, leaning forward, and let him feed you. The food was still hot, seasoned nicely with just enough pepper and salt, the cheese was nice. You chewed slowly, watching him.
"Good, right?" he asked, looking proud of himself.
"It's alright," you lied, wiping a bit of grease from your lip with your thumb.
"Yeah, okay," he chuckled, sitting back on the edge of the bed and going to town on the rest of the plate.
For the next ten minutes, you just sat there on the edge of the bed, watching this man eat like he hadn't seen food in a week. It was almost fascinating how much he could put away while still looking completely relaxed. He didn't rush. He chewed every bite, taking slow sips of his sweet tea, occasionally looking up at you to flash a greasy smile or to try and feed you a piece of chicken.
You just shook your head, the initial urgency of your hormones settling into a slow, simmering heat. You knew you weren't leaving. You were stuck here now.
Finally, Jermaine set the empty fork down on the plate with a satisfied sigh. He leaned back against his pillows, his stomach slightly rounder under the white tank top, looking like a big ass cat that just finished off a mouse.
"Man," he breathed, rubbing his hand over his chest. "That hit the spot right there."
You looked at him, then looked at the empty plate. "You done?"
"I'm done, baby," he said, his voice trailing off into a lazy yawn.
"Good. Now go brush your teeth," you said, reaching over to push his shoulder. "Because I know you ain't thinking about laying up in this bed with your mouth smelling like onions and shit."
Jermaine groaned, rolling his head back against the pillows. "Come on, girl. Give a man a minute to digest."
"No," you said, getting up from the bed and walking over to his bathroom door, throwing it open. The bright white light from the vanity spilled out into the dark bedroom. "Go. Right now."
Jermaine grumbled something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like you being bossy, but he got up anyway. He stretched his arms high above his head, his sweatpants slipping even lower, showing off the dark line of hair that disappeared into the fabric. You tried not to stare, but your body reminded you with a bruising ache right in your center that you were still very much waiting.
He shuffled into the bathroom, his bare feet padding against the marble tile. You followed him, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, watching his routine.
Jermaine was meticulous about his face and his teeth, no matter how tired or full he was. He grabbed his toothbrush, squeezing a generous amount of paste onto the bristles. He caught your eye in the mirror, giving you a mouthy grin before he started scrubbing.
The sound of him scrubbing filled the quiet bathroom, mixed with the rush of the warm water running from the faucet. He brushed for what felt like an eternity, getting every single tooth, his eyes never leaving yours in the glass. There was something intensely intimate about watching a man do something so mundane, especially a man who spent half his life in front of cameras and screaming fans. Here, in the quiet of his bathroom at two in the morning, he was just Jermaine, greasy lipped, full of food, and trying to get the onion smell out his mouth so he could get close to you.
He finally rinsed, spitting into the sink before wiping his mouth with a clean hand towel. He reached for the mouthwash, taking a huge swig and shaking his head back as he gargled, the sound rattling in his throat.
When he finally spit that out, he wiped his face again, turned off the water, and faced you.
He smelled like mint now, the scent of onion completely gone. He stepped close to you, his frame completely blocking out the light from the vanity, his chest just inches from your face.
"That better for you, Miss Lady?" he whispered, his voice completely clean, his breath hot and minty against your cheek.
You looked up at him, your heart doing that familiar thud against your ribs. The irritation was gone, replaced by that waiting that had been building up inside you since you were sitting in your own bed hours ago.
"Mmhmm," you hummed back, your hands finally leaving your chest and sliding up to rest against his warm, bare shoulders. "That's much better."
Jermaine smiled, a hungry look that told you the food had done exactly what it was supposed to do. He reached behind you, his hand finding the light switch and flipping it, plunging the bathroom into the dark.
"Come on," he murmured, his hands wrapping around your waist as he guided you back toward the bed.
He pushed you gently onto the bed before moving over you like a shadow.
Before you could even open your mouth to say anything, his hand came up, his long fingers cupping the back of your neck, and he pulled your face up to his.
Jermaine loved to kiss. It wasn't ever some quick, rushed thing just to get to the main event. This man would spend a whole seven minutes just working your mouth, tasting you, taking his time like he was trying to memorize the texture of your lips.
The minute his lips pressed against yours, you let out a soft sigh, your eyes fluttering shut. His mouth was warm, and soft. He started slow, just brushing his lips against yours, teasing the corners of your mouth until you whined, parting your lips to beg for more. He took that as his invitation, sliding his tongue inside with a smooth, deep stroke again your own that made your toes curl and clit jump.
He kissed you like it was new years and he kissed you like it was the end of the world. His hand on the back of your neck tightened just enough to keep you still, his thumb stroking along your jawline, holding you right where he wanted you. You tried to shift your hips against his, tried to reach down to get into his sweatpants, but the moment your hand strayed toward his waistband, he caught your wrist in his grip.
He pulled your hand away, pinning it flat against the mattress above your head, all without breaking the kiss. He let out a low warning grunt against your mouth, letting you know damn well that you weren't running this show. You weren't allowed anywhere near his pants until he was completely done with your mouth.
He kept kissing you. He changed the angle, tilting your head back further, his tongue swirling against your tongue in a rhythm that was so dirty it made your head spin. You could feel the wet, slippery sounds of your mouths meeting filling up the quiet bedroom. Every time you thought he was about to pull away, he’d just dive back in deeper, sucking on your bottom lip until it was swollen, tasting every single inch of your mouth until you were completely breathless, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. Your whole body was trembling underneath his weight, the ache between your legs growing so intense it was bordering on painful. Is this what having blue balls felt like?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torture but also pleasure, he slowly pulled his mouth back. Just an inch. His lips were wet, strings of slick following before cutting off, his eyes looking down at you through those long lashes. His breath was hot against your face.
"Take your shorts off," he rasped, his voice slightly rougher now. "Take 'em off and your panties..."
Your hands were shaking as you reached down, kicking out of your shorts and sliding your panties down your thighs, kicking them somewhere onto the floor. You shimmied back up a little towards the center of the bed, your heart in your throat.
Jermaine watched every single movement, sitting up, his knees settling between yours.
"Spread 'em for me," he commanded softly, his hand reaching down to rest on the inside of your thigh.
You swallowed hard, slowly opening your legs, parting yourself completely for him. Because you were ovulating, you were already incredibly slick, the cool air of the room hitting your wet skin and making you shiver.
Jermaine looked down, his eyes darkening as he saw how ready you were for him. He didn't rush. No, he never rushed. He brought his hand up, his long, dark fingers hovering just an inch away from your pussy, letting you wait for it for one more second.
Then, he pressed the pad of his thumb right against your clit.
You let out a loud, sharp gasp, your hips instantly bucking up off the mattress. "Jermaine-"
"Shh," he whispered, leaning down to press another wet kiss to your lips, stifling your cry. Even now, with his hand down there, his mouth was right back on yours, keeping you grounded, keeping you locked into him.
He slid his index finger down, dipping it right into the thick creaminess of your wetness. He let out a low, satisfied sound in his throat when he felt how soaked you were. He coated his fingers in your slickness, his thumb starting to rub in slow torturous circles over your clit, pressing down hard enough to make your brain go entirely foggy.
You were trying to keep your composure, but the sensation was too much. You pulled your mouth away from his, not even able to kiss him, your head tossing back onto the pillows, a low moan escaping your lips. "Oh my god, Jermaine..."
"You so wet," he murmured, his eyes locked on your face, watching every single expression that crossed your features. He loved seeing you like this; completely unraveled, completely at his mercy. "Look at you. You practically begging for it."
He didn't let you settle into the rhythm. Just as your body started getting used to the friction of his thumb, he slid his middle finger all the way inside you.
You let out a small strangled cry, your fingers hooking into the bedsheets, tearing at the fabric as his finger stretched you out. He was long, his knuckles thick, and the feeling of him filling you up while you were this sensitive was almost too much to bear. He pushed his finger in deep, all the way to the hilt, holding it there for a second so your pussy could adjust to him.
"Ah, shit, Jermaine, please..." you whined, your legs trembling, your knees shaking as you tried to hold yourself open for him.
"Please what?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. He started to curl his finger inside you, finding that perfect, sensitive spot along your front wall.
When he hit it, your whole body went stiff. An accidental broken sob like moan ripped from your throat, your hips arching off the bed, your hand slapping over your mouth, because it was almost three in the morning. You tried to close your legs around his hand, the pleasure too intense, but he used his other hand to pin your thigh down, keeping you wide open.
"Don't close up on me now," he muttered, his eyes burning into yours. "Stay right there."
He added a second finger, sliding it right alongside the first one. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your breath coming in short pants against your hand. He started a slow pumping motion, sliding his fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy, the sound of his fingers squelching loudly against your slickness filling up the quiet room.
Squish, squish, squish.
The sound alone was enough to make you lose your mind as you pulled your hand away, biting your tongue so you wouldn't make a sound. Your skin was hot, your head leaning all the way, showing him the line of your throat. "Jermaine, wait, stop- I'm gonna- "
"No you ain't," he cut you off, his voice firm, entirely in control. He slowed his pace down to a crawl, dragging his fingers out until just the tips were inside, then pushing them back in with a slow thrust. He was intentionally keeping you right on the edge, refusing to let you cross that line yet. "You ain't coming yet. We just started." He was frowning like he was genuinely upset, as though you were at a party and you already wanted to leave even if you just got there.
He leaned down, his chest rubbing against your clothed breasts as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He bit down on your shoulder blade, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make you let out a small whimper, distracting you from the overwhelming sensation between your legs.
His fingers kept moving inside you, all slow and deep. Every time he felt your walls start to tighten up, signaling that you were getting too close to the edge, he would stop completely, keeping his fingers buried deep inside you, just holding you there while his thumb worked your clit in slow circles.
You were crying now, your voice raw, entirely expressive. You couldn't hide a single thing from him. Your hips were moving on their own, trying to chase his hand, trying to force him to move faster, but he was like a rock over you, completely unbothered by your struggles.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice vibrating against your neck.
You forced your eyes open, your vision blurry with tears of pleasure. He lifted his head, looking down at you with a satisfied grin. He looked so damn handsome, so completely in his element, that it made your heart ache just as much as your body.
"You like that, baby?" he whispered, his fingers giving a sudden roll inside you that made your eyes roll back.
"Yes- yes, Jermaine, please, oh my god..."
"I got you," he murmured, his lips coming back down to capture yours, drinking in your loud, breathless moans as he finally began to pick up the pace, dragging you deeper and deeper into the heat.
He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers like a trapped bird, squeezing down on him so tight it felt like you were trying to wring every last bit of friction out of his fingers. You were completely at his mercy, trembling from your shoulders all the way down to your toes, your fingers digging so deep into the bedsheets you could hear the threads straining under your grip.
"That's it," Jermaine said against your lips, his voice dropping into a thick, low growl that vibrated directly into your open mouth. "Give it to me, baby."
He sped up his thumb just a fraction, hitting that tiny, swollen pearl of skin with pressure while his two fingers worked inside you. That was the final blow. A shattered, high pitched scream tried to tear its way out of your throat.
Before the sound could even carry out into the quiet room, Jermaine’s mouth smashed down onto yours, swallowing the high note of your orgasm whole. He drank in every single drop of your vocal distress, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth while your body shook beneath him. The release hit you so hard it turned your limbs to dead weight, warm pleasure washing over your hips and rolling down your thighs like a dam breaking open.
You were practically floating, your breathing coming in short, pathetic little hitches as the climax slowly began to settle into a soft but burning hum deep in your belly. You let out an exhale, your eyelids feeling so heavy you could barely keep them half open. You thought he was done.
You were dead wrong.
Jermaine didn't pull his fingers out. He left them buried deep inside your hot, slick walls, his wrist pressed against your skin, letting you feel every single beat of his pulse against you. He lifted his head up slowly, his eyes sparkling with a wicked kind of satisfaction as he looked down at your tired face. His lips were shiny, swollen from your kiss, and he had a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Look at you," he murmured softly, his thumb giving your clit one light flick that made your whole lower body jump like you’d been shocked with live electricity. "Look how soft you got for me, baby. You thought I was letting you off that easy?"
"Jermaine...wait," you gasped out. You reached out with a trembling hand, trying to push against his hard, smooth chest, but you had zero strength left. "Please...I'm- I'm so sensitive right now, baby, give me a minute–"
"Nah," he grunted, his tone completely smooth, entirely uncompromising. "We ain't taking no breaks tonight. I told you I was hungry, didn't I?"
Before your foggy, orgasm drunk brain could even process what he meant by that, Jermaine shifted his weight back onto his knees. He dragged himself down slowly, his broad, bare chest scraping against your ribs and your stomach, his hot breath trailing a burning path down your skin.
He gripped your thighs with both of his hands, his long fingers biting gently into your soft flesh, and pulled you all the way to the very edge of the mattress. He spread your legs wide open again, wider than before, pinning your knees back toward your chest so you were completely exposed to him all over again.
The cool air hitting your wet, sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, and the feeling of being completely unraveled made you try to cover yourself. But you were too slow.
Jermaine leaned down, bringing his face right between your thighs. He didn't pause nor did he give you a second to brace yourself, he just buried his nose right into your pussy, inhaling deep like he was breathing in the finest cologne, before pressing his open mouth directly against your pulsing, wet cunt.
"Oh– fuck!" you shrieked, the sound tearing out of your chest before you could stop it.
The contact was so sudden that your hips jerked upward. It felt like a shockwave went straight up your spine. The heat of his tongue lap lapping against your sensitive clit sent a wave of sensation crashing over you, so sharp that it almost felt like pain.
Remembering where you were, you slammed your hand over your own mouth. You clamped your palm down over your lips so hard your knuckles turned white, biting down on the meat of your hand to muffle the loud, broken noises trying to spill out of you.
Jermaine felt you tense up, he also felt the way your body was trying to pull away from the intensity of it all, but he just wrapped his big arms around your thighs, locking you completely in place. He was going crazy down there. He ate you like a starving man sitting down to his first real meal in days.
He slipped his tongue long and flat right up your slick slit, dragging it all the way from the bottom up to the top, taking his sweet time with every single stroke just like he had done his food. Every time his tongue flicked over your swollen clit, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a muffled, desperate whine bursting past your hand.
“Mmph– nnngh!”
He loved hearing those pathetic little sounds escaping around your fingers. It drove him crazy. He raised his eyes up, looking at you from between your wide spread legs, watching you struggle to keep quiet. His face was slick with your warm juices, all glistening and shit, looking completely devious.
Without breaking eye contact, he cupped your ass cheeks in his hands, lifting your hips up just a fraction higher, and plunged his tongue as deep inside you as it could physically go. He swirled it around in circular strokes, tasting every single bit of the thick sweetness you were giving to him, before pulling back just enough and moving your hips back down to suck your clit directly into his warm mouth.
"J-Jermaine!" you choked out, your voice muffled behind your hand, your other arm reaching down frantically.
You weren't trying to push him away anymore, you couldn't if you tried. Instead, your hand plunged into his hair, your nails digging deep into his thick curls, gripping him by the roots. You tried to pull him closer, then tried to push him away, your fingers tangling desperately in his hair as your body lost all sense of control. You pulled on his hair hard enough to pull his head tight against your pelvis, but he didn't mind it at all; he just grunted against your wet skin, the vibration of his voice traveling straight into your nerve endings and making you lose your damn mind.
He started eating you faster, his tongue working in relentless, slick laps that sounded impossibly loud in the silent room.
Your hips began to move completely on their own, rolling against his mouth, trying to chase that sharp peak that was building up again WAY too fast. Your body was still exhausted from the first climax, making this second one feel ten times heavier, ten times more overwhelming. It was building up like a tidal wave.
"Stop...please, Jermaine, stop, I can't…" you whimpered, your legs shaking so hard they were visibly violently trembling in his grip. "It's too much– uhn– Jermaine– !"
Jermaine didn't listen to a single word. He pulled his mouth off your clit for just half a second, his lips slick and dripping, his breath hot as hell against your inner thigh.
"Cover your mouth," he ordered softly. "Just take it."
He plunged two fingers right back inside your soaking wet hole, filling you up completely, while his tongue went right back to relentlessly working your clit.
You bit down on your own hand so hard you nearly broke the skin, your toes curling tightly toward the mattress as your walls clamped down around his fingers like a vise. Your body convulsed, a long, muffled, shattered scream burying itself into your palm as you came violently all over his face and hands.
Your hips pushed against his mouth, your nails yanking on his hair as you rode out the orgasm. The spasm were so deep, and so intense, that your whole lower half felt like it was too warm, liquid pouring out of you and coating his fingers, his lips, his chin.
He stayed right there between your thighs for a second, catching his breath. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, but when he pulled his hand away, he actually felt the amount of wetness coating his palm, and his wrists.
He looked down at his hand, then looked closely at the sheet beneath your ass, which was completely drenched, a dark circle spreading out onto the fabric.
A devious grin stretched across his face, his eyes lighting up with absolute amazement and pride. He leaned back on his heels, letting out a low, breathless whistle that cut right through the quiet room.
"Aw, nah," he whispered, his voice dripping with smooth, raspy disbelief. "Look at this shit...you done went and squirted all over the bed, girl."
Your eyes snapped open, wide and glossy with lingering tears, your skin turning instantly hot. Your chest heaving up and down like you’d just ran a whole mile.
"Jermaine, shut up," you gasped out.
You quickly scrambled to pull your legs together, your thighs shaking. You tried to slide back up the mattress, trying to cover yourself, completely embarrassed by how completely you had lost control. Your muscles felt like warm butter, zero strength left in your arms or your legs, making you look like a newborn calf just trying to move away from him.
"Nah, don't try to hide it now," Jermaine chuckled, moving up the bed right alongside you. He reached out with his arms and pulled your soft, trembling body right back into his chest, gathering you up into his lap like you belonged there. "Look at you shaking like a leaf, baby."
"Because you don't know how to act," you mumbled, hiding your face right into the crook of his neck. You wrapped your weak arms around his shoulders, breathing in his skin, completely exhausted. "I'm tired as hell, Jermaine. My legs feel weird."
"I know," he murmured, his tone shifting instantly from that playful teasing to something incredibly sweet.
He wrapped his large, warm hands around your bare thighs, his palms smoothing over your skin in long, comforting strokes. He began pressing soft, lingering kisses all over the side of your face; first your cheek, then the corner of your eye, down your jawline, and right onto your burning neck.
Every time his warm lips hit your skin, a tiny, involuntary noise escaped your throat; a soft, pitiful little sigh that made him grin against your skin.
"I know, baby. I know," he whispered softly, his deep voice vibrating right against your ribs as he kept rubbing your thighs, soothing the edge of the sensitivity. "I got you. You good. I just had to taste you, that's all. Couldn't help myself."
He kept kissing you, taking his time, his tongue taking tiny, lazy licks at your neck, making you shift resting in his arms. He cradled you close, holding you against his warm chest until the trembling in your legs slowly started to settle down into a soft ache.
"You alright?" he asked softly, resting his chin on top of your head, his hand sliding up your back to pull you against him. "Or you want me to just put you to bed?"
You lay there for a second, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. Your body was exhausted, yeah, but as your head started to clear, you felt the heavy bulge of his erection pressing firm and thick right against your hip through his sweatpants. He had spent all this time working you over, eating you until you lost your damn mind, and he hadn't even touched himself yet. He had been completely focused on your pleasure, completely unselfish, just taking care of you first like he always did.
And looking at him now, his hair a little wild from your hands pulling on it, his lips slick, the sheer sight of him made that warm, familiar ache bloom right back up in the pit of your stomach.
You lifted your head off his chest, looking up into his eyes.
"You think you just gonna put me to bed after all that?" you murmured, a tiny, tired little smile playing on your lips.
Jermaine raised one eyebrow, looking down at you with surprised amusement. "What, you got some energy left?"
"Not for riding," you whispered, sliding your hand down his stomach, letting your acrylics drag lightly over the waistband of his sweatpants. "But I know you ain't sit up here and do all that just to go to sleep empty handed."
He let out a low chuckle, his hand coming down to rest over yours. "Baby, you don't gotta do nothing. You exhausted."
"Shut up and let me handle it," you muttered softly, pushing yourself up onto your knees.
You shifted your weight, sliding down his body until you were kneeling right between his open legs on the mattress. Jermaine leaned his back up against the headboard, his heavy eyelids dropping low as he watched you.
You reached out, your fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled them down slowly, dragging his briefs down with them, letting his heavy, fully erected dick spring free.
He was thick, dark, and completely ready, glistening at the head with pre cum.
You leaned in close, wrapping your hand firmly around him, feeling how warm and rock hard he was in your grip. You lowered your head, pressing a soft, warm kiss right to the soft skin of his inner thigh, right next to his groin, making him let out a long exhale through his nose.
"Fuck, baby..." he rasped out, his hands instantly reaching up to rest in the messy sheets beside him.
You moved your mouth closer, taking the rounded head of his dick into your mouth, wrapping your wet lips tight around him as you pulled him in. You dragged your tongue up the underside of his shaft, swirling it right over the sensitive tip, taking in every drop of his moisture.
Jermaine’s hips gave an involuntary jerk, a low groan tearing out from deep inside his chest. "Shit..."
You slid your hands further down, your fingers gently cupping his balls. You weighed them in your palm, your long nails lightly scratching against the soft, sensitive skin of his scrotum, making his whole lower body go tight. You leaned down lower, taking one of his balls into your mouth, sucking softly while your thumb smoothed over the other, working him with a slow, thorough pace that was taking his breath away.
"Ah, fuck, honey..." Jermaine hissed, his head falling back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You trying to kill a nigga tonight, swear to God..."
You pulled back from his balls, licking a wet path all the way back up his thick vein to the very tip. You opened your mouth wide, taking him deep into your throat, swallowing as much of his length as you could manage. You kept your lips tight, creating a warm suction as you began to move your head up and down in a filthy bob.
The wet sounds filled up the quiet bedroom, echoing off the walls. Jermaine’s hands came up from the sheets, his fingers entangling themselves into your hair, holding your head as you worked him. He wasn't pushing you down too hard, he was gentle, guided by pleasure, but he was holding you right where he wanted you, his hips rising up off the bed to meet every single downward stroke of your mouth.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted out, his voice completely raw. "Look at you...taking all of it."
Hearing him talk to you like that, feeling the way his body was shuddering under your hands, did something to you. You worked your tongue around the head, bobbing faster, your hand sliding up and down the base to match the rhythm of your mouth. You took him all the way to the back of your throat, feeling his pre cum leaking onto your tongue, tasting him completely.
Jermaine’s breath came in ragged, sharp gasps, his grip in your hair tightening just a fraction as his hips began to pump faster into your wet mouth.
"Wait, wait...baby, pull back," he grunted out suddenly, his voice raspy with warning, his muscles locking up tight. "Pull back before I bust right in your mouth..."
You pulled completely back off him for a split second, taking a second to catch your own breath while you held his dick in your hand. Your heart was beating like a drum against your ribs. You looked up at him, biting down on your swollen bottom lip, your eyes locking onto his blown out gaze.
Instead of letting him cool off, you kept your hand wrapped tight around his length, giving him a few slow, firm strokes, up and down, dragging your thumb right over the sensitive, glistening tip to keep him right on the edge.
Jermaine let out a harsh, gravelly exhale through his teeth, his hips giving a subtle, involuntary jerk into your palm. "Ah...baby- mmnhmm..."
You shifted your weight, swinging one leg over his lap so you were straddling his thigh. You weren't sitting on his dick, you kept yourself hovering just in front of it, your thighs gripping his tight while your wet pussy pressed against the broad muscle of his upper leg.
You leaned in close, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and captured his mouth again.
You tasted like him, he tasted like you, and the clash of your tongues sent a jolt of fire straight down to your toes.
Mid kiss, you slowly pulled your head back just an inch, breaking the seal of your lips with a soft, wet sound. You looked into his eyes, your breathing coming in shallow pants.
You raised one hand between your faces, gathering up a pool of slick saliva in your mouth, and spit right into your own hand. Then, without breaking eye contact, you raised your eyebrows, giving him a look, gesturing for him to do the exact same thing.
Jermaine stared at you for a half second before a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned his head forward, gathering up his own slick spit, and dropped a heavy pool of it right into your open palm with yours.
You reached down between your legs, sliding that same hand down to your soaking wet cunt. You gathered up a fingers worth of your own creamy, hot slick nut and brought it all together. You mixed the spit, his pre cum, and your wetness right on the shaft of his dick, rubbing your palm up and down his entire length until his dick was completely drenched, shining wet and slippery in the dim room light.
Jermaine let out a low groan from the back of his throat, his head hitting the headboard with a soft thud as he shook it side to side as though he were disappointed. "Fuck...you so nasty for that, girl."
"You like it," you whispered against his jaw, your voice practically a goner.
You gripped his jaw with your free hand before you crashed your mouth right back onto his.
While your hand kept up a slow, relentless stroke on his slick, dripping dick, making that wet squelch slick sound every time your palm slid up to his top, Jermaine’s hands went all over your body.
His large, warm hands wandered up under your shirt, because Jermaine just loved you with your shirt on, his palms cupping your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your hard, swollen nipples. Every time he squeezed, you let out a muffled, high pitched whine directly into his mouth. He caught the noise, before sliding one hand down your back, his long fingers digging into your soft ass cheeks to pull you down tighter against his leg.
He stroked your hips, smoothed his hands over your hot skin, his thumb occasionally sliding down to flick against your clit just to hear you whimper against his lips. In return, you varied your pace on his dick, sometimes twisting your hand at the top, sometimes squeezing lightly at his balls while your wet palm pumped his shaft.
Every time you hit the right spot, Jermaine would let out these hushed, quiet moans and deep, chesty grunts that vibrated straight through your body. He was trying so hard to stay quiet, his jaw tight, his chest heaving, but the messy friction you were making on his little friend down there was driving him past his limit.
"Ah...shit...baby..." he rasped against your lips, his tongue lazily tangling with yours as his breathing grew shorter, and more frantic. "Right there...don't stop...keep stroking like that..."
You kept going, your hand moving faster now, the wet slick squelching loudly between your fingers. You rubbed your wet, warm pussy lightly against his thigh to match the stroke of your hand, giving yourself just enough friction to keep you hovering right on the edge along with him.
Jermaine’s hands clamped down hard on your hips, pinning you to him. His head pressing against your shoulder as he let out a long, trembling, muffled moan.
His whole body went stiff as board underneath you. His hips gave two, three thrusts up into your pumping hand, and he finally came, you watched in awe as he lifted his head against your cheek to kiss it.
Thick, hot streams of his nut spurted out, coating your wet palm, your fingers, and splashing up onto his stomach. He kept moaning softly against your cheek, his breath coming in hot, ragged hitches against your skin while his body shuddered through every last pulse of his release.
The room was dead silent, with the exception of the synchronized sound of your breathing. The clock on the nightstand flicked quietly past two in the morning.
Jermaine’s shoulders were glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as you lay your head on his shoulder, his hands still resting on the small of your back, holding you against him like he was terrified you’d slip away. His body felt completely spent, his muscles relaxed into that post cum languor that made him feel like his legs were asleep under your thighs.
You slowly lifted your head off his shoulder, looking down at his stomach, which was completely painted with his creamy, cloudy nut, dripping down over his dark skin and coating your right hand.
You looked up at him through your lashes. His hooded eyelids watching you with that gaze that told you that you did good and he had an amazing time.
Slowly, you brought your hand up to your mouth.
You didn't wipe it on the sheet, and you didn't reach for a towel. You stuck your tongue out, taking a lazy lick right across the palm of your hand, cleaning up the thickest part of his release. You closed your lips around your fingers, sucking them clean one by one, making a soft, wet sound in the silent room as you tasted what came outta him but was completely yours.
Jermaine’s eyes opened a little wider at the sight. A low hum vibrated deep in his throat, his eyebrows pulling together.
"Damn," he rasped. "You really sum' else, you know that?"
You didn't even answer him with words. You just smirked, dragging your tongue over your thumb until your hand was completely clean.
Then, you shifted your weight off his thighs before you leaned forward, hovering your face right over his stomach. You lowered your head, pressing your warm tongue directly against the smooth skin just below his belly button, dragging it upward in a slow, wet line right through the warm mess on his skin.
Jermaine’s stomach muscles instantly jumped under your tongue, tightening up in a sharp reflex. He let out a hissed gasp through his teeth.
"Shit..." he muttered, his head tilting back against the wood again. "You ain't gotta do all that, baby..."
"Yes I do," you murmured against his skin, your voice muffled.
You kept going, taking your sweet time with him. You dragged your tongue up his stomach, taking every drop of his nut off his dark skin, licking him clean with slow strokes. You used your lips and the tip of your tongue to clean every crease, every smooth dip of his abdomen, tasting the salty, warm contrast of his skin against his release. You took a tiny, light bite out of his hip bone, making him let out a hushed groan, before licking and sucking over the spot to soothe the sting.
He just lay there, completely at your mercy, his chest rising and falling, his hands stroking your back, your shoulders, his long fingers tangling aimlessly through your hair while you worked over his body. It was almost sweet in a way.
When you were finally satisfied, having licked his stomach completely clean, you smoothed your wet tongue up his sternum, kissing your way up the center of his chest. You lingered over his heart, listening to the steady thudding underneath his ribs, before trailing your mouth up the side of his throat. You bit lightly into his skin, leaving a soft, wet press of your lips right at the base of his neck.
Jermaine’s hand came up, his long fingers cupping the side of your face, his broad thumb sweeping gently over your cheek bone. He pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him in the dim light.
"Come here," he whispered.
You slid up his body, bringing your face right down to his, and pressed your lips directly to his.
The kiss was slow, your tongues slid together in a soft rhythm, you could feel the complete satisfaction humming between you.
Jermaine’s tongue lazily swirling against yours, sucking on your lower lip with a soft, persistent pull that made your whole body feel like it was melting right into his chest. He tasted every inch of your mouth, over and over, his thumb gently stroking your jaw, keeping you locked right there against him.
Every time you tried to pull back just a fraction to catch your breath, he’d just follow your mouth, humming softly against your lips, deepening the kiss until you were completely breathless again.
"Mmm..." you let out a soft, muffled whine into his mouth, your body relaxing entirely limp over his frame.
He pulled his mouth back just an inch, his lips wet and shining, resting his head against against the headboard.
"That was crazy, girl," he whispered.
"Yeah. You loved it though," you murmured back, your eyes closed, resting your chin on his chest.
"Yeah, I did," he admitted, his arm wrapping firmly around your waist, pulling the blanket up from the foot of the bed and sliding it over both of your bodies– it was fucking disgusting but who has the energy to care right now. "I love you."
You laughed softly, your arm wrapping tight around his waist. “I love you too.”
PAIRING: sub!jermajesty jackson x dom!black!fem!reader
SUMMARY: see ask below. 🩷
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i made a rookie mistake & accidentally posted this fic before it was even finished, so i had to delete it before anybody saw it… the ovulation made me do it 🫠
“nnngh, fuck— pleaseee, mama… p-please let me c-cum inside you…”
you had been edging Jermajesty for the past hour and he was only growing needier and needier the longer you continued to deny him relief. you were sat flush on his lap with his dick deep inside you as you rode him through the night, purposely speeding up your bounces to get him close to his peak just to slow down before he could even think about cumming — and you repeated that pattern over and over again just to hear him beg for you.
“you think you deserve that, baby? hm? think you deserve to cum inside me?” you cooed condescendingly, teasingly squeezing his shoulders, as Jermajesty whined pathetically and profusely nodded his head, his pretty eyes filled with desperation peering up at you while he watched you ride him, “use your words, pretty boy, c’mon. tell mama what i wanna hear.”
“y-yessss, mama, ple—nnngh!—pleaseeee let me. i-i’ll be so good f-for you—mmh!—i’ll b-be a good b-boy,” Jermajesty whimpered pitifully, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass to hold onto you, as a furrow formed between his eyebrows and his grip tightened on you, his nails leaving crescent-shaped markings in your melanated skin, “f-fuuuuck, m’so close— please, mama!”
you looked at him silently for a moment, as if considering letting him cum like he begged for, and a slow wicked smirk spread across your pretty face as you suddenly slowed down your bouncing for what felt like the millionth time to Jermajesty and now moved at an agonizingly slow pace, earning a broken sob from his vocals and a twitch from his dick against your walls.
“nonono— pleaseeee—” Jermajesty’s whines and whimpers for release soon got caught in his throat and a choked up sob fell from his lips instead as hot tears brimmed in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks, which only made your smirk widen while your hips continued their slow roll.
“aw, don’t cry, baby. your face’s too pretty for all that, stop it,” you cooed patronizingly, your hands moving to cradle his face, as your thumbs gently wiped away his tears and he whimpered meekly, instinctively leaning into your touch while he sniffled, “why you cryin’, huh? talk to me.”
“w—hic!—wanna cum, ma…” Jermajesty mewled softly, his hands shakily sliding up to grip your waist, as soft whimpers fell from his lips with each slow roll and bounce of your hips and his hands traveled from your waist to your back, his palms sliding up your spine before grabbing ahold of your shoulders and holding onto them, “i-it’s… it’s gettin’… s-sensitive…”
his last word left his mouth so quietly that you would’ve missed it had you not been staring at his lips as he talked. you tilted your head just a little, studying his tear-streaked face, and you let out a soft hum, the sound practically mocking the state he was currently in.
“oh, you gettin’ sensitive on me, that’s why you cryin’ like this… i’m makin’ that dick all sensitive, ‘Maj?” you teased in a low sultry purr, your hands leaving his face and cradling his nape, as you pulled him closer and lowered your head to his, your face inches away from his and your breaths mingling with his shaky pants, “mhm, my pretty boy’s all fucked-out and sensitive and i ain’t even let him cum yet… guess i gotta’ fix that, don’t i?”
before Jermajesty could say a word — or let out another desperate and strangled noise — your hips shifted gears and you gradually started bouncing faster and faster until you were back to the pace you were at before he started crying. loud and needy whines and whimpers fell from Jermajesty’s mouth and each sound punctuated a bounce of your hips as your ass clapped loudly against his thighs and the bed rocked and creaked rhythmically beneath the two of you.
Jermajesty’s arms wrapped tightly around your torso and he held you against him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck to try and muffle his sounds but he only got louder by the minute, the sensitivity of his dick combined with the slickness of your squelching pussy ultimately starting to overstimulate and overwhelm him simultaneously.
“go ahead, sweet boy. cum inside me, you earned it. let me feel that big dick paint my walls and make ‘em white.” you whispered sweetly in his ear, your words only adding fuel to the intense fire growing inside of him, as Jermajesty’s body completely tensed and he let out a sharp broken gasp, his eyes rolling back and his mouth hanging open while his orgasm crashed down on him like a bucket of bricks and tears welled up in his eyes again.
“ohhh, t-thaaank you, mama! t-thank you, thank y-youuu, thank you!— oh, shitshitshit— nnnghhh, thank you!” Jermajesty let out babbles of slurred and slightly incoherent whines of gratitude against your neck and his body jerked a few times underneath yours as you felt his tears slide down your neck and you grinned satisfactorily, cradling the back of his buzzed head and gently caressing it in a way that completely contradicted how your hips were roughly slamming down on him.
“mmm, you’re so welcome, baby. i’d do anything for my good boy. you don’t gotta’ cry no more, handsome, i got you.”
summary: Running into your ex during date night has Jackie feeling some type of way.
warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, semi-public sex, breeding kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, gum transfer (eeeyuck… 👀) established relationship, pet names, no use of y/n, reader has braids bc i said so, super flirt!jackie, territorial!jackie, jackie is nasty af and you love it
based on these two requests. thank you to whoever sent it in, hope you enjoy it 💚 proofread but im human so mistakes happen. fuck ai. i don’t know that bitch.
dividers by @pixopix
Westminster, California, 1975
The engine to Jackie’s 1973 AMC Hornet revved as he pulled into the Hi-Way 39 drive-in theater. This was one of your favorite date night spots. The hour drive it took to get there didn’t put a damper on your excitement for it. The place was packed out with people and cars due to the most anticipated movie of the year: Jaws.
When Jackie had brought you here on the third date, you fell in love with the spot. You knew it was something you would have to do at least once a week. When he wasn’t on the road with his brothers, he was so eager to do whatever you wanted to do.
He paid the entrance fee and was able to secure a spot near the middle of the field. They hadn’t even turned on the pre-movie content yet so you felt it was a good enough to time to run to the concessions stand. Hopefully there wasn’t too long of a line.
The watermelon flavor of your BlowPop still vibrant in the gum you smacked on. Turning to Jackie as you dug in your purse for your wallet, you caught him staring at you heatedly.
“Why you staring so hard, Jackson?” You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.
“I can’t look at my lady now?”
“Not the way you doing, nasty ass.” You blew a bubble with your gum. His eyes zeroed in the activity.
“That mouth of yours, I swear, little mama.” He did that thing with his voice that had you squeezing your thighs together.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” You tossed your beaded braids over your shoulder and smirked. “You want that chocolate you like from the snack stand?”
“I got the chocolate I like sittin’ right here next to me.” He licked his bottom lip, looking you up and down.
“Ooh, you are a dangerous flirt, Sigmund Esco. I reckon it’s gonna get you in trouble one day.” Another bubble blown.
“How bout it get me into some right now? Gimme that gum you smackin on.”
One of your eyebrows arched and your mouth twitched. There was no point in acting like you were disgusted because you’d never came harder than you did when Jackie ate your ass while fingering you on the second date. He was a super freak and you were obsessed with him, almost like he put a spell on you.
“Well come and get it then, papa.”
His big hand landed on your thigh, pulling you across the leather seats over to the driver’s side. He grabbed one of your legs to sit on top of his knees, opening you up. Jackie wrapped his fingers around your throat, leading your faces to meet.
Your lips clashed with his hastily. His tongue lapping at your lips until you opened your mouth, allowing him entry to explore. You let out a high moan pushing your gum into his mouth with his tongue instantly curling around it. With shiny lips and a string of spit following you both when you released each other, you were almost tempted to say fuck the movie.
Leaning against the door, Jackie grinned like the cat that got the canary. His strong jaw chewed on your gum like it was his to begin with and you had simply prepped it for him. You sat back, hand pressed to your chest trying to calm your heart.
“Fuckin’ delicious. Watermelon?”
“Boy, you ain’t no good,” you snorted, licking your lips, elated at the taste of him.
“Only for you, sweet thing.” He winked, pulling out his wallet. “Here, take this money so you can get whatever you want.”
“Jackie, I have my own money.”
“I didn’t ask you that, now did I?”
You could be stubborn with the best of them but Jackie being the oldest brother of so many kids you knew it was impossible to win any battle against him. You shook your head, taking his fifty dollar bill.
“And don’t forget my Pibb!” He yelled out the window as you walked away. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was watching your booty bounce in your polkadot sundress.
You were making your way back with the snacks when a familiar face stepped in front of you.
“Sunshine?” Only one man called you that nickname.
“Jerome? Hey honey, how you been?” Your ex whom you hadn’t seen in years. Occasionally one of your girlfriends would run into him and bring you the gossip but you hadn’t laid eyes on him since you both decided to part ways. He was trying to go to college in San Diego and you had stayed in Encino; you both felt the relationship wasn’t worth the long distance.
Jerome was a tall light skin with light eyes, straight white teeth and his signature small afro. The side burns were new though. He was a sweet talker, incredibly kind and smart. It was no wonder you dated him initially but alas you were bored.
He didn’t alight every nerve in your body like Jackie did. Jackie liked to go back and forth with you to an extent. Once he was over that he’d just thrown you down and draw orgasm after orgasm from you like he was born to do it. He could be rough despite that soft spoken, demure façade he put on. He also had a jealousy streak a mile long.
Jerome roped you into a side hug and began asking you questions, wanting to catch up. Every time you attempted to walk away and end the conversation he would reel you back in with some new detail about his life. You were polite but deep down you knew Jackie was probably wondering where you were.
“You lookin’ real good, girl. You must be eating right.” He leered at you.
You opened your mouth to shut him down when: “Yeah, I’m feedin her real good,” replied from behind you.
Exhaling in gratitude, you turned around seeing Jackie right behind you with his arms crossed. You knew that look in his eyes well. It told you that shit was about to go left very quickly.
“Jackie! I was just on my way back when I ran into an old friend. We were just catching up.” You smiled nervously, stepping beside your boyfriend.
“Old friend? From where?”
“I’m her ex,” Jerome supplied, clarifying simply.
You wanted to evaporate completely. Sighing in defeat, your eyes fell shut.
“Oh really?” Jackie’s voice hardened. You didn’t want to look at him.
“Jerome.” The other man stuck out his hand and Jackie just looked at it. Jerome put his hand back to his side.
“You like them J names don’tcha?” Jackie slightly turned his head towards you, arching one of his eyebrows. “Baby, I don’t need to be worried about you leaving me for a James, do I?”
“Technically, your name doesn’t start with a J so…” You joked awkwardly. You met his eyes, then shot yours to the ground seeing the unamused expression on his face.
That was going to be your ass. You knew that the second it came out of your mouth. He was not going to let that slide. Your pulse steadily climbed at the prospect.
“Well, it was nice catching up with you, sunshine. Maybe we can get a cup of coffee next time I’m in Encino.”
“Um, I don’t—“
“She won’t be available.”
The projector flickered on signaling that they were about to play the movie and you couldn’t had been more grateful for the interruption. Jackie grabbed the snacks out of your hands and turned on his heel without another word.
“Damn,” you mumbled under the breath and followed Jackie with your tail between your legs.
It took everything in you to hold in your scream while Jackie brought you to the brink repeatedly and then denied you. You were stretched on his dick with your back to his chest sitting in the drivers seat. He felt you shake while he lazily strummed your clit like a guitar.
Your legs were on either side of his, keeping you wide open for him. Knowing that anybody could look in and see what you two were doing thrilled you.
“Jackie,” you whined, hands clutching the steering wheel.
“Watch the movie, little mama,” the tone in his soft voice meant to brook no argument.
You had no idea what was happening at this point in the movie. Not long after it had started Jackie told you to take your panties off and to come sit in his lap. You were concerned that since you were out in the public that anybody to could see but he was adamant and not in the mood for games. He had taken himself out of his pants, stroked himself a couple of times until his rigid length was ready for you. You had nervously looked around and realized no one was paying your car an inch of attention.
“D’you know why we’re doing this?”
You shook your head, unable to answer because all your thoughts were focused on chasing your climax.
He took his hand away from your engorged bud and you wanted to cry. He rubbed his hands all over your thighs, feeling your sopping pussy clench around his dick.
“Yes, you do. You’re a smart girl. Tell me why.”
The air in the car was intoxicating. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to not move your hips.
“Because I was talking to—“
“Yes, because you were talking to another man. You know that’s not how we move ‘round here, baby.”
“But Jackie, I didn’t want to talk to him!” You groaned. “I’m sorry!”
“Oh, I know you’re sorry. This tight pussy trembling around me tells me that. But I need you to learn your lesson,” Jackie lightly scolded.
You hissed as his fingers went back to circling your clit, unable to control the squirm of your hips. He huffed out a strangled breath behind you. His thick veiny dick throbbed inside your heat. Your arousal was definitely soaking his front of his pants and you weren’t apologetic about that one bit.
“Sig, please. I need to come,” you mewled, biting your lip. The movie was all a blur to you.
“I’m sure you do.” His fingers sped up and your toes curled. Your breathing came in short pants. “Do you deserve it is what I need to know.”
“Yes! I’m sorry. I won’t do it again I promise. Just let me—“ You rattled off incoherently then keened with a closed mouth when he bit your shoulder.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you, girl. I gotta lock you up to keep men away from you? Maybe I need to put a baby in ya.” He shifted underneath you, somehow digging deeper into you. His other hand caressed your stomach.
“Please, baby. Do it.” You were out of your mind at this point. You were so close it drove you insane.
Jackie inhaled sharply and slowly thrusted into you. His shallow jerks had your eyes rolling back. Your grip on the steering wheel increasing.
“You want my baby?”
“Yes, papa, whatever you want,” you moaned, gyrating your hips. The wetness of your cunt helping you slide easily.
“Take it then,“ he growled.
You moved like butter with him deep in you. You felt every vein scraping along your walls. With his tip kissing your cervix and the rough pad of his fingers swiping your button, it wasn’t long before you were shaking, coming undone especially hard on his big dick. You smashed your lips together to conceal the shriek that lodged in your throat.
Jackie followed you soon after shooting his seed into your womb. He groaned behind you feeling your pussy milk him dry. He moved your braids to the side and kissed the back of your sweaty neck, licking the skin with every kiss. You melted into his chest and finally released your grip on the steering wheel.
The sun had gone down at some point. Fireflies danced outside the rows of cars.
You casually glanced around and of course no one payed your car any mind, not with the big shark on the screen.
“I love you, Jackie. We so solid, I don’t want anyone else,” you whispered sleepily, turning your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of his Afro soothing you.
“Let’s keep it that way. I love you too, little mama.” He kissed your forehead and hummed with his length still resting in place. You loved that full feeling. “We gon have to come see this movie again. Don’t you think?”
ahdhdhahagdgs yall gotta know i love me some sigmund esco. with his fine ass!!! let me know how yall liked this one 💚
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. thinking about stack being a side nigga to a fine ass cougar. he the type of side dude that 100% knows his place. whoever your husband is, he honestly doesn’t care as long as he has his time with you. he would believe the lies or possible truths you tell him about plans to leave your husband.
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. elias would be the shoulder your can cry on about your marriage. “an-and he just doesn’t understand ‘lias it’s like he doesn’t hear a word i say”, you sobbed in his arms, hiccuping. stack sighed though his nose, pressing his lips together and caressing your face, “you’re okay baby, hear me? ‘m here.”
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. thinking about how elias may know you’re married to another man, but he’s the only one that owns that pussy. stack was slow stroking your pussy in missionary, ankles pushed behind your head as your phone began to ring. “eliasss stop, he’s calling”, you slurred out while trying to reach for your phone. stack smirked, dick pulsing at the thought that formed in his head. “answer for me baby. make sure you be quiet too.” as he began to circle your clit with the thick pads of fingers.
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. elias can be manipulative in yall situation sometimes. if he’s missing you real bad, he’ll blow your phone up not caring if you’re with your husband. he’ll leave a voicemail, “come see me pretty mama. i miss you, you miss daddy? i know you do.” he’ll also tell you anything you want to hear, to make you more reliant on him. you’ll tell him how your husband is going through your phone, suspecting something. and elias talmat, “why he going through your phone? he miserable. not like you doin nothin’ wrong baby.”
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. stack wants you to eventually get caught up so he can have you to himself. in the beginning he didn’t care and it was just fun. but now? he’s leaving lil shit at your house that you have to lie on the spot to your husband about.
꒰ঌ ໒꒱. he loves taking pictures and videos of yall having sex. “come on mama, open them legs up—let the camera see my nut all over that pretty pussy.” also his screen saver is you bent over in red panties with his tattooed hand grabbing your ass.
🐆 sev’s comments ┆whew idk how i came up with this, i got to the mic im like press record ah ah ah! im drop kicking my husband to be with dada. also splash of older!reader — i be tired of young ho fics sometimes.
SEGGSY MAN!!! So here’s a lil some while I work through everything in my drafts
How long have you been here? You don’t know, your brain has long been melted. You could barely register where you were at right now. Mouth dropped open, toes feeling cramped from curling so much, you didn’t even know if you were breathing at that point.
Jaafar has been slurping between your legs since he’s been home. “Still with me, baby?” He mumbled against your pussy. Too overstimulated, you shook your head.
“Awww.” You would’ve thought that meant he would ease up but no! He took your clit between his lips, gently sucking it, soft eyes staring up at you. Your legs shook beside his head, fingers trying to find anywhere to ground yourself.
Every drag from his tongue, suction from his lips, and kiss against your clit felt like another incoming orgasm. The new growth surrounding his face brushed against your thighs.
The new growth that you complimented so often, maybe that’s why you’re in this situation. Jaafar had such a baby face, it was a new sight to see him with facial hair.
And it was something so sexy.
“Been eating a lil too much.” You joked, nudging his jaw with your knuckle. “I think I need a lil more then.” He teased back.
Except it wasn’t a joke.
Now you’re fighting for your life while Jaafar smeared the lower half of his face with your juices . “C-can’t take it.” You moaned trying to close your legs.
“Just a little bit more.” He cooed, hands pushing against the back of your knees to keep you spread open. His tongue pressed against your clit giving a broad long lick, finalizing with a suck.
He repeated the actions, small groans throughout that made your hips shift. “I’m gonna cum again.” You warned, legs kicking to the best of your ability.
Jaafar caught a second wind, drawing his tongue in figure eights, pushing his face farther into your pussy. “F-fuck!” You cried, eyes rolling back as your release washed over you.
His tongue found your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out feeling you pulse around it as you came. Letting you ride out your high, he sat up, beard soaked and a sweet smile on his face.
🍫summary: Michael was getting on your nerves and you had to handle that!
Michael was on his last straw with you. During you and Michael’s supposedly fun day at a theme park that he begged you to go to. He’s been nothing but irritating. Not the usual ‘cute and teasing’ way but purposely finding ways to make the vein in your neck bulge.
“No, we don’t need that right now.” You say. “Don’t care!” He said while showing an evil grin as he proceeds to buy the comically large cup anyway.
“Stop touching me.” He proceeds to pinch your butt every second he gets. “Cut it out.” You gritted through your teeth.
“You don’t control me.” He said, rolling his eyes. You couldn’t fight the throbbing headache at the base of your skull. “Stop fucking playing, Michael.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged him towards the parking lot.
In excitement? Confusion? Arousal? Maybe all. A hard lump settled in his throat, looking around to see if anyone noticed but of course everyone was too caught up in the next ride, they were about to get on.
A bit let down he was leaving early, he knew it was deserved. He knew what he was doing, pushing you to your limits until you snapped. A strike of fear ran through his heart feeling the almost painful grip of his wrist in your hand.
Once you both got into the car, you remained quiet. “Do you want me to drive?” Michael’s meek voice spoke up, a sad attempt at a peace offering. You were so irritated, you couldn’t even fathom to respond. He shut his mouth, fidgeting around during the drive home.
The car was dead silent, radio on mute, windows rolled up, only the sound of tires driving and other cars. Michael's shoe tapped against the car floor, making quick glances at you. Once you parked into the driveway, you didn’t get out.
“Go upstairs and take your clothes off.” You told him while your eyes remained on the windshield, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He knew better than to respond, settling on getting out the car and going upstairs.
You waited a few more minutes and let out a sigh, getting out of the car and heading inside. The house was dead silent, only sound being keys jingling in your hand as you ascended upstairs.
Stepping in, there sat Michael on the bed, hands clasped together on his thighs, soft bare skin revealed. His doe eyes looked up at you, hands now resting on his knees.
The silence felt heavy between the two of you and his lips rubbed together waiting for your next move.
A small smile formed on your lips, and he felt his heart drop to his ass.
•••
“P-please.” He begged, eyes glazed over in tears. The wet squelching of your hand pumping his dick sounded in the room. The television played lowly as you fixated on it, legs keeping a tight hold on Michael’s body with his back pressed against your chest.
Your shoulder caught the weight of his head as it fell back against you. He swiped his tongue against his lips, swollen from biting on them. “M-mama—”
“Shut up and watch.” You sped up your pace, using your other hand to grasp his jaw, directing his focus to the tv. The rule was he couldn’t cum before the movie ended, and he could’ve cried realizing he hasn’t even reached the hour mark yet.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Tears began to roll down his face. “You sorry, baby? Should’ve thought about that earlier.” You sarcastically pouted. The angry, leaking head wet your palm as you focused on his tip.
A whine fell from him, thrusting his hips into the air involuntarily. “M-mama, I’m gonna cum.” He warned, fingers squeezing your thighs. Your actions came to a halt and a smile graced your face as you tightened your grip around his dick.
Michael’s breath caught in his throat as you denied him yet another orgasm. All because he wanted a little attention. Just to see how far he could take it, now he’s stuck between your legs going through absolute torture.
A painful cry rung in the air, body screaming for his release. “Breathe. In and out.” You instructed him noticing the quick breaths he was taking. As he followed your directions, he closed his eyes, chest slowing down.
Once his body returned to its starting point, you began pumping again. Sensitive and tender, his breathing hitched followed by the slow roll of his eyes. Drool spilled from the corner of his lips and his fingers twitched against your thigh.
A sinfully angelic sight.
Broken moans spilled from his lips, and not a single thought was going through his head. Only the feel of your hand pleasuring him. Sweat was glazed over his body, overheated from the constant stimulation he was under.
You pressed a soft kiss against his forehead, damp skin against your lips. A small whimper tumbled from his mouth. His lips opened to say something but was choked back by a moan.
“You need something, baby?” You cooed, using his jaw to turn his head towards you. He forced his eyes to look at you before nodding.
“I don’t know, do you think you’ve been good?”
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise. I-I’ll do anything for you.” He whimpered. Mind teetering between the edge of reaching his breaking point, his dick twitched in your hand. Stiff and thick. Beads of pre cum rolling out in a hurry.
Even though the movie isn’t close to over, you could tell he was starting to lose it. Delivering a soft kiss to the shell of his ear, you whispered, “cum for mama.”
With a sharp inhale, Michael let out a whiny moan as ropes of nut immediately shot out of his tip. Lanky limbs shaking against you, you held him tighter as he let go.
Thick spurts of cum splayed across his abdomen and your knuckles. Continuous whimpers spilled from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he watched your fist continue stroking him.
Overstimulation wasn’t too far behind, legs twitching with a quick yelp when your fingers brushed against his tip. “I-I came already.”
“I know, baby, but you said you’ll do anything for me,” you pressed a kiss against his cheek, noticing his eyes widen.
“And mama wants you to take everything she’s gonna give.”
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