Off The Hook.
Pairings: Jermajesty x Reader
Genre(s): SMUT!!
Warnings: AGAIN SMUT!! (MDNI). Technical Exhibitionism. Fingering. No protection (don’t be silly honey, wrap that willy). Fingering. Oral! (f. receiving). P in V sex. Big dick Jermajesty (hollup, workin’ with a monster!). Slight Switch!Jermajesty, Crying during sex (?) Jermajesty is a little shit.
Summary: Y/n gets a call at the worst possible time, and Jermajesty thinks it would be rude if she didn’t answer.
W.C: 2.3k
Author’s note: Hello again, my loves! Bee is working on clearing the drafts! This log is based on this request. I hope you’re hungry! Let me know what you think in the comments, reblog if you love it. As always, happy reading!
- Love, B🤍
Your eyes have been glued to the back of your head for the past hour, and sweat beads against hot skin as you attempt to hold on to your last bit of sanity. The moans that fill the air are hoarse, and your bones have turned to jelly. Bite marks and hand prints are littered everywhere, left by the feral man beneath you. Jermajesty’s stamina is a force to be reckoned with.
His leaking tip pulverizes that gooey spot that melts your brain over and over again. It’s a blissful torture. Overstimulation hums through your body, and drool falls from swollen lips onto his chest as your hips grind down on him. Truthfully, you’d lost focus after orgasm number two. The man pawing at your curves had reduced you to a babbling mess that couldn’t remember her own name.
"Still with me, baby?" He coos with a wicked smile. How cruel. He really expects a response from you now? The bed creaks softly, not suited for this kind of passion. Disheveled whimpers are pulled from your chest and flow through his ears, like a song he can't stop listening to.
"S’right, let me hear how good it feels." He groans, trying his best not to break underneath you. The way you fall apart stirs something in his belly. It's a primal, all-consuming need to mark you up and show the world you're his. Jermajesty's fingers dig further into your flesh as he turns both of you over. In the process, his cock hits a place you didn't know existed. Stars form behind hooded lids, muscles contract under marred skin, and ecstasy rolls over you yet again.
Jermajesty lets out a fractured groan as you squeal. Your back is arched beautifully, the heat between your legs grips him tight, and all he sees as he looks over you is divinity. The feeling of your devotion, coupled with the fucked out expression on your face, leaves him reeling. "Shit! Pretty girl—." He slows his pace, feeding you deep, languid strokes as you come down again.
Your hair is frizzy, the lashes he just paid for are half gone, fat tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, and your lips are plump from stolen kisses. And yet, Jermajesty has never thought you looked more beautiful. He goes to tell you just how much you mean to him, how he wants to marry you, and stuff you full of his babies. Before he can, a familiar tune cuts through the air. The phone dances on the nightstand, trying its hardest to catch your attention. You're too far gone to register what's happening, but when you get like this, Jermajesty does all the thinking.
He pauses to look over, and a frown immediately overtakes his face. It's your coworker, Tyrone. The one he’s been watching for quite some time. Your boyfriend doesn't consider himself to be a jealous man. Just…cautious. Your boyfriend noticed a few weeks ago that the guy you work with just couldn't stay away from you, and it wasn’t hard to tell the man was thinking things that he shouldn’t be.
Jermajesty's first instinct is to decline the call and continue worshiping you like the goddess you are, but then inspiration strikes. Since Tyrone decided to call so late, your boyfriend couldn't find any reason to stop what he was doing. You were off the clock, and this was his time.
"It's that guy you work with, mama," He says while moving to grab the phone. You roll your eyes and whine, not yet wanting to part ways with nirvana.
"So? Let it ring, Maj. I need you."
He chuckles at that. If there's one thing the man under you knows, it's that you don't care about anything or anyone when he's deep in your walls. That kind of attitude toward the guy who is obviously desperate to speak with you wouldn't be very nice, now would it?
"I know, baby, but it would be rude not to answer." He says, pretending to be concerned as he slides out of your pussy. The loss of contact nearly breaks you, and you whine in protest. Jermajesty shakes his head and tuts, "Look, he's calling so late too. Could be an emergency, ma."
You sit up on shaky elbows while glaring at the device held in his hand. After another moment of contemplating, the ringing stops. A grin forms at the corners of your mouth, "Well, the problem solved itse—"
Again, the little glass box sings, declaring that you've spoken too soon. With an annoyed groan, you hold out your hand. Jermajesty places the phone there and shifts so that you can sit up fully. You answer, properly annoyed. "Hello."
The man on the other end of the line is almost taken aback by your tone. "H-hey, y/n. Um, are you busy?" He asks, rethinking his decision to call altogether.
Jermajesty snaps his fingers, drawing your attention toward him. He gives you a look that says, 'play nice'. You clear your throat, attempting to sound somewhat professional while the man to your left eyes you like dinner.
"Yeah– I mean, I was just um…relaxing. What's up, Ty?" You rush out, trying your best to speed up the interaction that is already taking far too long.
Jermajesty's jaw tightens at the way you say the guy’s name. So sweetly too. ‘Ty?’ Really?
Your boyfriend expected you to struggle with this conversation, to sound as desperate as he knew you were, not like you were actually interested in what another man had to say. He masks his irritation with a deceptively sweet smile as he crawls toward you on the bed. His movements are predatory and deliberate, dark eyes fix on yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.
You try to focus on whatever Tyrone is saying about some account, something about numbers not adding up and needing your expertise first thing in the morning, but Jermajesty doesn’t make it easy. He settles between your trembling thighs, broad shoulders forcing them wider, and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses over the skin. Your voice cracks as you attempt to respond to your coworker’s question about quarterly projections.
"Y-yeah, I can look at the files. Just– god, just send them over."
Jermajesty slowly drags his tongue upward, ending in the crease before leaning over to taste where he’d been buried just moments ago. All you can do is bite your lip and pray you can hold steady. He wraps his lips around your sex and hums. The vibrations are enough to make you dizzy.
You gaze down and watch with wide, panicked eyes, silently pleading with the madman trailing his tongue over your pearl. He lifts his head just enough to meet your stare. The expression he wears tells you not to hold your breath, that he’s just getting started. Your head tips back, and your chest rises and falls in uneven beats.
"Are you okay?" Tyrone cuts in, genuinely concerned now. All he’s able to hear is odd shuffling and heavy breathing.
A high-pitched response is all you can manage, trying your best to sound convincing. "Fine! Just, uh, dropped something."
Jermajesty chuckles and takes that as his cue to shift gears. He sinks two fingers into you without warning, curling them just how he knows you like it. The sudden intrusion causes the phone to nearly slip from your grip.
"O…kay.” Ty drags out, leery of your tone. He decides to brush it off and get to the real reason he called.
“Well, actually, y/n, I was wondering if you'd want to grab coffee sometime? Outside of work, I mean." Tyrone finishes. His tone carries a sound that your boyfriend can’t seem to stand. Genuine hope.
Jermajesty's fingers still, and for a moment you think he's had enough of this game, that he might let you cut the poor man loose. But before you can blink, he's moving again, fucking into you with vigor. His thumb circles your clit with devastating precision, and you quickly realize that he was never stopping. He was just sizing up his competition.
Your eyes flutter shut as pleasure builds at the base of your spine. You try your hardest to keep your composure, while Jermajesty tries his hardest to break it.
"Sorry if this is forward, but I really enjoy working with you, and I thought…maybe we could get to know each other better?" Ty continues, oblivious to the fact that you're being ravished by another man a few feet from the screen.
Jermajesty adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously, and you can't help the whine that escapes. You try to cover it with a cough, but Ty’s already heard it.
"Are you sure you're alright? You sound—"
"She's perfect," Jermajesty says loud enough to be heard, and your eyes stretch as wide as saucers. Your body fills with equal parts panic and arousal. He still doesn’t stop. No, if anything, he doubles down. The line goes quiet; it’s clear the man on the other end is processing what he’s just heard.
"Is someone there?" Ty questions, more than sure that he’s tripping.
"Her boyfriend," Jermajesty answers without missing a beat. "And you're calling awfully late, Ty. Can this wait? We’re busy.”
In this moment, there are three things you really want. One, for the mattress to open up and swallow you whole. Two, to cum so bad your vision goes white. And three, to murder Jermajesty.
"I-no. Just, well–" Ty stammers as his courage begins to evaporate.
You decide to spare what might be left of his pride, "Ty, I really can't talk right now," Your voice comes out breathy and hoarse. With the added context, Tyrone now understands why you’ve been so weird tonight.
Jermajesty's thumb presses down hard on your clit, and you let out a high keen; the sound is unmistakably vulgar. This time, you save yourself the embarrassment and offer up the best response you can put together under this kind of pressure. "I'll see you at work. Bye."
You all but throw the phone and immediately turn to smack Jermajesty's shoulder. Not that it means anything, he has you so close to the edge, too wound up to give a fuck about what just happened.
"You’re—fuck! Maj you’re an ass," you pant.
Jermajesty giggles in return, watching the way your hips chase his fingers. He doesn't answer. Instead, he just replaces his hand with his mouth. His tongue fucks into your sopping hole, and the sensation has your back coming off the bed in a sinful arch. His hands pin your hips to the bed before he shifts focus to the bundle of nerves nestled between your folds. The figure-eights he draws with the wet muscle are all it takes. You fall apart in seconds, chanting his name like a prayer. Your body quivers with the force of your release, and the sheets are clutched in your grip so tight the tension nearly rips them.
The aftershocks don’t even have time to subside. He’s already crawling up your body, guiding himself back inside with one deep thrust that you nearly feel in your lungs. Jermajesty cages you in with his arms, his face hovering inches above yours, all signs of his earlier playfulness gone. "Mine," he growls, snapping his hips forward with enough force to move the bed. "Say it."
"Yours," You gasp, "Only yours."
His girth nearly splits you in two, and the jealousy that sparked this entire encounter fuels every stroke. The headboard knocks against the wall, and a small crack forms where the edges meet the plaster. You're both lost in each other, in the raw ecstasy of one another. He sits back on his haunches and pushes your knees to your chest, leaning in to rest all of his weight on the back of your thighs.
"Shit– m’gonna marry you, mama," Jermajesty rasps. The expression he wears as he fucks you into the bed fans the embers glowing in your belly. He doesn’t stop there though.
"Wanna give you my babies. Want– Ohh, fuck– everyone to know you're mine." His words border on a whine. Those thick brows knit together, and as much as he wants to keep up this dominant act, your pussy just feels too good. He can feel tears of his own welling in his eyes as euphoria washes over his body.
“Please let me, baby. I need it so bad,” he whimpers.
His words are a requisition your body can’t ignore. You clench around him, and your manicured nails claw down his back, almost enough to draw blood.
He knows he can’t hold on much longer. Your heat cradles him in a way that breaks his mind and leaves him intoxicated. His pace quickens as he chases his high, “Baby, where you want it? hm?”
You can’t possibly give him a coherent answer, too lost in your own bliss. The spring that had been so tightly wound snaps, and your ankles lock around Jermajesty’s waist, pulling him impossibly deep. A pornographic moan rips from your throat as you cum, body
Jermajesty wails loudly in your ear as he follows you over the edge with a shattered cry of your name.
His lips crash into yours as he shudders above you. The kiss is hungry, all teeth and tongue, while his spunk stuffs you full. When you two finally come down, trembling and breathless, he pulls away from your lips, leaving a string of spit connecting you before he presses kisses to your temples, cheeks, and the corners of your mouth.
Still nestled inside you, your boyfriend suddenly feels uncertain about his behavior. "Was that too much?"
You laugh, tired and almost delirious. "Never. But I'm definitely going to have some explaining to do at work."
He grins, unrepentant. "Good. Maybe he'll finally get the message."
You roll your eyes but can't stop the smile tugging at your lips. "Asshole."
"Your asshole," he corrects, settling you against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. You don't bother arguing, too comfortable and sated to start anything else tonight. The phone lies forgotten on the floor where it fell. Here, in the dark with Jermajesty's heartbeat steady beneath your ear, nothing else matters.
"I love you, Maj." you mumble, already half asleep. His arms tighten around you, and he lets out a deep breath.
"I love you more, pretty girl. Get some rest. Round five in an hour."
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