#x black reader

[adra19]

your vampire hunter d stuff has inspired me to create my own stuff for D... pls keep writing!! we need more D x black fem reader!!! :D

Thank you! I can't express how much I'm down bad for that man. Please write your creations. I would love to read them and hope my fics continue to inspire you 💚.

[adra19]

2 Kisses and 1 Present - Day 14

D x Black fem! Reader

Synopsis: The many ways that D shows his love, the other times when he actually says them.

Sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Tags/cw: fluff, humor, slight yearning?, D having complications, Lefty being Lefty, slow burn?, Platonic? (Who knows), etc..

Songs:

Pyramids pt. 2 by Frank Ocean

My Lover by Niko Vieilleame

Does She by Sa Deuce (My fav r&b duo)

D never knew how he got here. Wrapped in your arms as he rested against you. The sun barricaded by the black out curtains in your room. The sunlight sickness was very bad this time. Lefty haven told him over and over again to get into cooler terrain. Of course he wouldn’t listen. Always trying to do things his way. It didn’t take long before his body gave out right at the start of a path towards your place. That’s how you two met. An encounter that would change his interest for the better.

You heard the thud from inside of your kitchen. In fact you happened to see the brooding man fall. Placing the spoon in your hand down onto the counter, you went outside. The creak of the wooden door caught the attention to the ears of both Lefty and D. You stepped off of the porch. The sun beaming down on you heavily. The groaning of wood and grass rustling audible as you approached the man carefully.

Bending over you carefully got a good look at him. He seemed to be asleep? But still conscious. You nearly jumped out of your skin when his left hand moved. What made it even more terrifying was the palm was talking.

“Hey, can we get a bit of help here. The guy doesn’t like to listen.”

You sat on the ground and reached for his hand, cautious but curious, holding it up slightly as you looked at Lefty.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Sun sickness. He’s been out in the sun for too long. You mind dragging us to the shade on the side of your house?”

You turned to look at the amount of shade there, then back at the hand. D groaned lowly which caught your attention. His eyes were open now, staring directly up at yours. Your eyes traveled as you got a good look at him. Pale skin and youthfulness. It was a tell tale sign. A dhampir.

“I don’t think leaving you out here would be benefitting. You can stay inside. My couch is better than the rough ground.” Lefty snickered as you stood up. He spouted teasing comments and jabs at the weakened man as you pulled his heavy body along.

“See what happens when you ignore personal problems?” If he could, he’d squeeze his hand to shut Lefty’s mouth. As you brought his heavy body inside. A hard job for you. You struggled to get him onto the couch. With trial and many errors, you got him situated. You closed all of the curtains in the room, turning the space into a cool box.

With the release of a breath you went back outside to grab his saddle and hat. Placing both by the door. The hat on the hanger and the saddle by a small closet for coats and umbrellas. You went back to tie the horse up.

Sweating now, you close the door behind you, locking it before walking over towards the couch. Dropping down beside him, you take some of the debris out of his hair. Reaching over you grab the blanket off the back of the couch, covering him as best as you could. He seemed complacent in that moment. His eyes scanning you as you move behind an opened door of another room.

“How long does it take for your body to regulate again?” You asked as you brought out a large fan. When he didn’t answer, you heard muffled words from underneath blanket.

“Six hours.” Plugging the cord into the circuit, you set the fan right beside him. Going back towards the kitchen, you grab the biggest bowl you had. Filling it with cold water, you bring it back into the living room, placing it down in front of the fan. Adjusting the settings, you put it on medium blast.

“This should. Let me know if I need to turn it up.”

You left the living room. Heading back into the kitchen to finish what you were doing. The scent of food escaped from the kitchen. Every hour or so, you would check up on the man. He was quite comfortable, though he hasn’t spoken a word since your help. It wasn’t long before he was sitting up. Stretching his limbs before pulling the blanket off of him.

You had stepped out with a hot plate of food in your hands. Pausing at the frame when you saw him up and moving.

“Figured you’d be hungry after that.”

The memory of that day filled his mind as he laid against you. You standing there holding a hot plate of steaming food. He did not have to eat it. Truly, But he did anyway. You stared down at him. Your hand slowly dragging your fingers through his long unkept waves. The curtains traveled back and forth as the fan hummed. He barely spoke. Most of the time you’d get a monotone sentence, but that was just how he was. A man of few words with loud actions. You playing through his hair, until you broke the comforting silence.

“It’s been six hours…” You let go a strand before letting your thumb caress his cheek, his skin slightly cold to the touch. His eyes fluttered as his head shifted. His face moving to let his nose rub against the touch. Your scent filling his very being. Not a word spoken. Yet, his body stayed where it wanted, against you. His thoughts still on the past events that have occurred between you both.

Every few years, after a mission, he would make his way back up that same hill where your house stood. His horse automatically going towards the stable to rest with the others. Enjoying the hay and the cool weather. He never announced himself, but you knew his presence when you felt it. His hat coming off and placed in the exact same spot you’ve placed it many, many times.

That’s what these moments became. A small flicker of him filling your space. He accepted anything you offered. Food, coffee, alcohol, etc.. At times, he’d follow with laying on you. Nothing emotionally comforting, but something grounding. Even outside of the sun sickness. It started to become a natural behavior of his. Whether you were listening to the radio on the table, to even when you were reading. That was just how he showed his appreciation, or in your eyes affection.

Then came the small touches. A kiss to the hand, any form or way. A steady hand on your lower back. Currently it has developed to kissing? Nothing too special, but yeah. It happened on a snowy night. The blankets of white covering the yard in patches by the minute. You were tending to the his cyborg horse, calling it Steed for a name. D, only a few feet away, shoveled the pathway clean.

Before the strong winds could follow through, you made your way inside. Taking the scarf and boots off by the door. You watched from the window until he finished the task. He came back up the hill, shovel in hand, and his hair flowing gracefully in the cold, strong breeze. Placing the object back in its place, in the shed, he made his way back inside. He discarded the scarf you gave to him as a gift, placing in over his hat before deconstructing into more comforting attire.

It wasn’t long before you joined him. Two mugs in hand. The scent a cocoa and blood plasm capsules in one. Taking a seat beside him on the couch, you held out the cup towards him.

“Thank you.” Taking a sip from your own, you watched the subtle changes in his posture. He relaxed more. Especially, whenever he was near you. You noticed the small flakes of ice crystals melting in his hair. The way his eyes lower just a tad.

“So, no one is going to share?” You looked at Lefty. The hand becoming more of a match maker than an actual parasite. A smiled tugged at your lips as you laughed softly.

“You can eat and drink?” You asked.

“Of course I can. I have a face for a reason lady.” You laughed at his deadpan comment and watch as D squeezed the so called “annoying parasite” mouth shut. To make it even worse, you actually got a smaller mug, filled it with the same substance, before placing it in front of him on the coffee table. You watched in amusement as Lefty scurried towards the cup. You found humor in D’s emotionless expression, or what was actually underneath it. A crack in his aloof face.

As night hit, his hand had shut up instantly. Full of cocoa and milk. You were already in bed, when the door slightly opened. You looked up from your book, seeing his looming figure standing there in the dark hallway. You raised an eyebrow at him. The candle light by the bedside flickering gently from the fan.

“You need something, D?” You asked. He eyes moved over to the other side of your bed. You closed the book, setting it aside before allowing him in. He closed the bedroom door behind himself, before joining you. His weight dipping the mattress before his head moved to lay against your chest. This time was different, you could tell.

his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together. The contrast between you two was striking. Light to dark. Human to half human. Tall to short. Almost opposites. Your fingers were already touching his hair. A familiar thing he’s become accustomed to.

“You could’ve stated that you wanted to join me, you know?”

“I know..” He said. Voice lower but still emotionless in a way.

He turned his face up. His nose grazing against your nape softly. He could smell the sweet scent from you. His eyes adjusting to see your veins. You saw the change in his eyes. Red then back to their usual color. Your heart rate did pick up. He sensed it. You saw the quiver in his lips. The urges to bite, but restricted. He deliberately turn his face inward. Practically drowning in you, until you felt the soft touch of cold warmth. A kiss. Not a bite. Right there at the nape of your neck.

That alone almost broke his resolve. The groan that came afterward against your skin, sent a chill down your spine. A first, just a peak through that wall he held up. Then it happened again. The same way. The candle light going dead from the cool air coming from the window. Hands woven together like his lips against yours. A small peck that spoke volumes. It’s been ten years now. He still had that youthfulness to him, but you did as well. A few years shown through the seasons.

Yet, on another afternoon. As you tended to Steed, he approached. Hat covering just a fraction of his beautiful face. You stopped what you were doing to give him your attention. You looked at the small box in his hands. Lefty quiet for once in his life.

“Eternity can not explain why I come back here, but…,” He offered the box to you.

“It’s made me realize the comfort you bring me.”

You looked at the box in your hands. A Victorian style. Something rare in these times. Intricate black designs covering it completely. Hand crafted at best. Flipping the small latch, it pops open. Inside, sat a sapphire necklace. An almost replica of the one he wore. Smaller in size, but none of the less beautiful. You smiled at the gift. His eyes watching your reaction quietly.

“You have sweet way of saying I love you.” You said with a short chuckle. If color could show, without a doubt he would blush. You took the necklace out, to which he helped you put it on. His touch lingered on the back of your neck before pulling away. You finished tending to Steed before you both went inside.

Happy Holidays and enjoy 💚

Credits to @cursed-carmine for the dividers/headers!!!

[adra19]

Sweet Treat - Day 13

Spike Spiegel x Black fem! Reader

Synopsis: Spike eats a lot of things. A LOT. But, which is his favorite?

Sit back, relax, and try a new snack 🧡

Tags/cw: 18+, mdni, riding, face sitting, sweet talk, pussy drunk Spike, slight window sex?, lots of licking and spit, nasty slop, messy and wet, p play, throat pie, etc..

Songs:

Grab It by Toxic Chemistry

Back to Sleep (Megamix) by Chris Brown and More

I’ll Do Anything by Ginuwine

He never thought he'd fall in love again. But his eyes spoke more than any smart ass comment he could make. Since the day he ran into you, he couldnt stay away. It's been days, weeks, since he's been back to Mars. His last intimate encounter was playing on repeat in his head. From your moans to the way you'd look at him. Now back on the Bebop ship and slumped back on the couch. He tilts his back against the old fabric. A mere grin on his lips as he snorts.

Staring up at the ceiling, smoke emitted from the lit end of his cigarette. He wondered if he should go back, to see you. But he knew that you’d be at his throat for leaving again.

"Oh, what the hell." He muttered. Finishing his cigarette, he leans up to stub it out on an empty bear can.

With you, you knew he'd leave again. It was always like that between you two. Spike wasn't one to stay in one place at a time. Although, it did ease your mind a bit that he thought enough to visit. He always came back to you. As much as he was acting aloof, you knew he cared. If he didn't, he wouldn't come crawling back. Sometimes, you wondered what went through that head of his.

Like any other night, you spent it alone. Having ate dinner and gotten ready for bed. It didn’t take long for you to escape the world. What felt like minutes to you were only hours to him. There, he stood on the other side of your apartment door. Cigarette in his mouth, dangling, he knew you were already asleep. Of course, he didn't care. Not when it came to you. Staring at the wooden door, he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Let's get this over with." He muttered. Pulling his hand out of his pocket, he rubbed the back of his neck before reaching to knock. The solid knocks echoed in the hallway before the door slid open. The exhaustion in your eyes there. You looked delicate as usual in his eyes.

Before you knew it, they door was closed and locked behind him. His lips on yours within minutes. You didn’t have time to process or to pull away. Melting instantly. The buttons on his suit were tore open by your hands while his hands pushed the straps down off of your shoulders. As you walked back, your back hit the glass doors behind you. Showing the city below.

Dropping to his knees, his lips move along. From your collarbone, down your sternum, and lower. Your left hand in his soft curls pushing him there. The fabric pooling around your waist, falling around your feet from the tug of his hands. His suit completely open. Showing the tanned skin beneath. He pressed his tongue right where you needed it most. Working through your wet lips before trailing up to suck your little bud. Your hands clutching at the curtains, tugging them to hold your body up as his head snuggled between your thighs. Tongue circling around, flicking against you.

“J.. Just like that, baby.” It didn’t take long for him to have you creaming on his face. Your legs going weak, to which he took advantage of. Pulling back just enough to laying back against the carpet, guiding you by the hips to sit on his face. Your fingers going straight to his curls, tugging, eyes slightly fluttering in bliss as grunted underneath you. The sloppy kisses and licks matching the mess he so dearly craved from between your thighs. Rolling your hips slowly, back then forth, then back again. His eyes rolling back as he savors the taste of your essence sliding all over his face. The tent in his unbuttoned pants straining painfully.

Trembling above him, your second climax making you weak in the knees. The taste of you was already making his brain foggy. It’s been a while since you’ve had him like this. Riding through your high, you come to a stop. Moving off of him, you saw the sight. Moonlight showing the glistening of his lips and chin. Some on the tip of his nose.

“F-F-Fuck, ugh. You’re still sweet as ever.” He gasped out. Positioning your body right on top of his, hands on either side of his head. you lean down. Lips on his, sharing the taste of you with him. A low moan erupted from his throat as the kiss turned deeply nasty. Saliva and cum passing between the both of you. His hands reaching up to steady you by the waist, before roaming down to rub and squeeze the softness of your ass. A reaction only met by you rocking your hips against his. Your pussy leaving a wet spot on the through the fabric of his pants.

“I need more of you.”

“Need me bad? Yeah?” You whispered against his lips before moving yours down to suck that spot behind his ear.

“Yeah… Yeah baby I do.” Your lips moved from his neck to his jaw then back up to his lips. A deep, long kiss before you got up off of him. Getting up as well, he was already getting rid of the of his clothing. Dick springing free from the confines of his underwear. Leaning back against the living room couch, you licked your lips. Already lying back. Your head on the armrest.

Moving to stand above you, he stroked himself. Once. Twice. Three times before slapping the head against your already swollen lips.

“Open up, sugar.” He muttered. He hissed slightly at the warmth of your mouth surround the tip. Your tongue lolling around the slit. Inch by inch, he feed more of it to you. Causing you to slightly gag when he was already hitting the back of your throat.

“Come on, You can take the rest.” He mouth fell open when you took the rest. the contraction of your throat working around him, choking as he settle there.

“Mn-mn, give me that throat. Don’t choke baby. Don’t choke. Just swallow.” He slid out slowly before slipping back in fully. Spit and pre-cum already forming on your lips. He built up a rhythm. Fucking your mouth as you moaned.

“Mmmm… mmhmmm…”

“Yeah…? Just like that. Swallow that dick. M-Mmm, fuuuck—“ He brows knitted together. His hand around your neck, caressing it like it’s the best flashlight he’s had in a while. His other hand reaching down to pinch and pull at your nipples. Massaging the soft weight of your tits. He kept his pace controlled, trying to at this point. Your mouth just felt too damn good.

Sweat was starting to cover his skin and yours. The thin sheen making the sight of you beneath him more appealing. Reaching down with your own hands. Your middle finger and ring finger began to rub your still slick clit. The bud sensitive from two past orgasms. The sight had him twitch. He was close already. Keeping the pace the same but thrusting harder. Spit dripping down your face and chin. While still holding your throat in one hand, he removed the other. Coating his own fingers, before leaning over to replace your fingers with his own.

Your eyes rolled back. The dual stimulation causing your mind to check out. His hips stutter. A few more thrusts before holding his dick deep down your throat. Ropes and ropes of hot sticky cum being pumped down your throat. Forcing you to swallow most of it. He held you there as he came. his fingers working in overtime on your clit. Making your legs tremble. Thighs being held open by his other hand, the one removed from holding your neck.

“There ya go. Make ‘er drool for me.” His fingers rubbed and rubbed. Left to right. Right to left, before slapping the swollen nub. Your body jerked as he slipped his fingers inside. Finding that spongey spot instantly. His fingers rapidly moving in a come here motion, causing you to squirt. Your body convulsing and quivering as he milked you out. Leaving you wet and messy.

Slipping out of your mouth a few minutes later with a wet pop, dick now limp and soft. You took deep breaths, coughing to gather yourself. You both took a minute to calm down. Afterwards, he slipped his arms underneath your knees and lower back. Ending the night with sharing a long shower and sweet aftercare.

With your head on his chest. Sound asleep against him. He stares up at the familiar patterns on your ceiling. His hand rubbing soothingly on your side. He needed to be out by tomorrow evening, but one thing was for certain. God. He could never get over the sweet taste of you on his lips.

Happy Holidays 🧡. Enjoy!!!

Credits to @cursed-carmine for dividers/headers.

[huniijaex]

YOU GETTIN’ IT NOW?

parings: jermaine x reader

req: Jermaine teaches reader how to kiss? She’s never had her first kiss and she knows Jermaine is way more experienced than her so he teaches her how. Fluffy, but sweet because he’s being so patient with her

warnings: lil suggestive

a/n: want my corbin hcs. but also i listened to the diss track jermaine made on michael. don’t get me wrong, that was messed up, BUT ITS CATCHY IDK?? maybe it’s the beat i like.

You haven’t kissed Jermaine, at all.

The 2 months you guys have been together, you guys haven’t kissed. But that’s not because you don’t want to, it’s because you don’t know how to. Which makes you embarrassed.

You wanted to kiss him, but you knew if you laid your lips on his, you wouldn’t know what to do and you feel like he’d make fun of you.

But you took that risk, you stood up and you went to Jermaine who was in the kitchen, eating.

“Why are you always eating?” You asked.

“And why are you always in the kitchen opening up the fridge every 5 minutes?” He shot back.

You side eyed him, and he did it back. “Sometimes I really think you’re secretly ga—” “Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He interrupted you.

You didn’t, you knew not to say nothing.

“Good girl, anyway what’re you doing in here, baby?” He asked, normally.

“Well that reminds me, I wanted to ask you something..” you said, swaying back and forth with a finger in your hand.

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me ask.” You whined.

“Automatic no.” He said.

“Welp, guess you don’t wanna teach me how to kiss.” You shrugged.

He looked at you, almost immediately. “Wait! Yes, yes come to my bedroom baby, I’ll teach you.” He said, leaving no room for discussion and dragging you to his room.

He pushed you on the bed, gently. “First things first, get comfortable.”

You got under the covers and so did he. “Next, I’m gonna ask you this. Do you want this?” You nodded.

“Words, mama.”

“I want this.” You said.

“Okay good, so what I’m gonna do is I’m gonna kiss you, obviously. You just follow my lead.” He told you.

He got closer and kissed you. He went slow and kissed you softly, and at some point, you got it. You guys kissed for nearly ten minutes before he pulled away smiling.

“There you go, baby. Now I’m gonna stick my tongue in, is that okay?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Part your lips for me, just a lil’ bit.” He said and you obliged.

He kissed you softly first, letting you get used to his lips again before slipping his tongue in.

You let out a noise, and that turned him on a little. He tongue kissed you like that for a while before pulling away. “You liked that?”

“Mhm, can we do it again?” You asked.

He laughed at you and slapped your ass playfully. “We’d be doing more than kissing if we do it again.”

“I don’t mind.” You said.

He bit his lip and looked at you before getting straight to business.

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

Jackie Jackson falls for reader who has this huge wall up. She’s afraid to get hurt especially by a guy in the music industry. He has girls fawning all over him day and night, but Jackie wants to prove to reader that she’s the one for him. He wines and dines her, he opens up to her and gets vulnerable with her. She sees a side of him that he doesn’t show often, to anyone. Vulnerable Jackie PLEASEEE!!! He’s so charming, but he’s a softie at heart. A guy that will do any and everything for his family.

You push me away | Jackie Jackson

summary: Jackie wanted to push your relationship past business, but you remain guarded…until you don’t.

warnings: none

word count: 3,463

pairings: Jackie Jackson x black!reader

AN: I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this. I hope I did your request justice!!! Much love.

———————————————————————

Deep in the velvet, smoke-heavy belly of the recording studio, the bassline was a physical pulse rattling the glass of the control booth, but Jackie wasn’t looking at the soundboard. He was looking at you. You were sitting on the low-slung leather couch in the corner, a yellow legal pad resting against your knees, a pencil tucked behind your ear as you cross-referenced the publishing sheets for the upcoming tour. You wore your hair in a beautifully picked-out Afro that framed your face like a halo of dark silk, and your skin, a rich, deep brown, caught the amber glow of the studio lamps in a way that made Jackie’s chest ache. He had been staring for too long, his fingers idly tapping against the edge of the mixing console, his signature bright smile slipping into something softer, heavier, and completely unguarded.

Everyone in the world knew Jackie Jackson as the charming, dazzling frontman with the killer legs, the high-flying falsetto, and the kind of magnetism that made women faint in the front row of the forum. They saw the sparkling jumpsuits, the smooth-talking interviews, and the endless parade of gorgeous groupies hanging around the stage doors, hoping for just a second of his time. But you saw right through the glitter. In fact, you had built a brick wall ten feet high and three feet thick between yourself and the oldest Jackson brother the moment you were hired onto the production management team. You knew the music industry. You knew how these pretty-faced boys operated—sweet-talking a girl until she gave up her heart, only to leave her crying in some lonely hotel room while they moved on to the next city and the next screaming fan. You weren’t going to be a casualty of the Jackson machine. You kept it strictly business: "Yes, Mr. Jackson," "No, Mr. Jackson," and "Here are your lyric sheets, Mr. Jackson."

Jackie hated it. He hated the distance in your eyes, the way you professionally stepped back whenever he got within breathing distance, and the cool, polite smile you gave him that never quite reached your eyes. He was a man used to women throwing themselves at his feet, but your indifference didn’t make him angry; it made him yearn. It was a deep, consuming ache that had been building for months, a quiet realization that you were the only woman in any room who actually mattered. He didn't want a fan; he wanted you. He wanted to know what made you laugh when the cameras weren't rolling, what your dreams looked like when the music stopped, and how it felt to hold your hand without the weight of the world watching.

"Man, if you don't stop daydreaming and lay down this scratch vocal, Joseph gonna have both our heads," Michael murmured from the stool beside him, his voice a gentle, teasing nudge. Michael had that sharp, quiet way of noticing everything, and he’d seen the way his big brother’s eyes traced your every move for weeks.

Jackie cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a sudden heat creep up his collar. "Yeah, yeah, I got it, Mike," he muttered, adjusting his headphones as he stepped up to the microphone. He looked through the glass one more time, catching your gaze just as you lifted your eyes from the paperwork. You gave him a brief, professional nod, your expression guarded, before looking right back down at your papers. Jackie took a deep breath, the longing tightening in his throat, and closed his eyes. When he sang that night, the melody wasn't just a track for the album; it was a plea, a velvet-wrapped confession meant entirely for the girl sitting on the leather couch who refused to look him in the eye.

Two days later, the studio sessions wrapped early, leaving a rare, quiet evening in the middle of a hectic Los Angeles week. You were packing up your briefcase, ready to head back to your apartment and put the industry behind you for the night, when a shadow fell across your desk. You looked up to see Jackie standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored burgundy leather jacket, a crisp white button-down open at the collar, and dark slacks. His hair was perfectly styled, and he smelled faintly of expensive cologne and cocoa butter. He wasn't wearing his usual stage grin; instead, his eyes were soft, almost nervous, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Hey," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, low register that usually made women lose their minds. "You got a minute?"

You closed your briefcase with a deliberate snap, keeping your tone even and professional. "Something wrong with the schedule for tomorrow, Jackie? I checked the itinerary, and the limousine is set for eight in the morning."

Jackie sighed, a small, wry smile touching his lips. "Nah, baby, the schedule is fine. Ain't nothing wrong with the work. I was just... I was wondering if you’d let me take you out tonight. Just out for some dinner. No business, no talk about the tour. Just you and me."

You paused, your hands resting on the leather of your bag. The wall went up instantly, your defensive instincts flaring like a warning light. "Jackie, I don't think that's a good idea. I work for your family's management team. I like my job, and I don't mix business with pleasure. Besides, don't you have a long line of ladies waiting for you at the Roxy tonight?"

The rejection hit him visibly, a flash of genuine hurt crossing his handsome features before he masked it with a soft, earnest gaze. He took half a step closer, leaning his hip against the edge of your desk, hands tucked into his pockets. "Aw, come on now, don't be like that," he said, his tone dripping with that warm tone, smooth as silk. "You know how folks talk, but that ain't me. All them girls out there, they don't mean nothing to me. They looking at the cat on the album cover. I'm trying to talk to you. I been trying to get next to you for months, and you keep treating me like I got the plague or something. Just give a brother a chance to show you who he is outside of this studio. One dinner. If you hate it, I promise I won't ask you again."

You looked at him, searching his face for the usual slickness, the easy confidence of a man who got whatever he wanted. But what you found instead was a strange, disarming vulnerability. His eyes were wide, pleading, and completely devoid of the usual pop-star swagger. Still, the fear of getting hurt, of being just another notch on a famous man's belt, held your tongue. "I don't know, Jackie. Men in your position... y'all say all the right things. You got the whole world telling you you're fine, and you think you can just charm your way into anything. I'm not trying to get my heart broken."

"Break your heart?" Jackie repeated, his voice dropping an octave, sounding completely incredulous that you could even think he'd harm a hair on your head. "Baby, I'm trying to cherish you, not break you down. You think I'm just playing games? I swear on everything I love, I'm for real about this. Just let me take you to this quiet little spot down by the water. No cameras, no brothers, no noise. Just let me talk to you."

There was something so desperately sincere in his eyes, a profound yearning that seemed to radiate off him in waves, that your defenses suffered a hairline fracture. You looked down at your hands, then back up at his handsome, hopeful face. Against your better judgment, the wall cracked just enough for a whisper of a "yes" to escape your lips. "Fine. One dinner, Jackie. But take me home immediately afterwards."

A brilliant, breathtaking smile broke across his face, lighting up the entire room, and for a second, he looked less like a global superstar and more like a boy who had just won the grand prize at the carnival. "That's all I'm asking for, baby. That's all I need."

He took you to a secluded, upscale restaurant tucked away in Malibu, far from the flashing lights of Sunset Boulevard. The establishment was dim, illuminated only by candles and the moonlight reflecting off the Pacific Ocean just outside the grand windows. The waiter led you to a private booth in the back, surrounded by lush velvet curtains that offered total privacy. Jackie was the perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair, adjusting your napkin, and making sure you were comfortable before he even took his own seat. He ordered a beautiful bottle of wine, pouring it for you with a steady, practiced hand, though you noticed a slight tremor in his fingers that betrayed his nerves.

As the night wore on, the tension in your shoulders began to melt away under the influence of the quiet atmosphere and Jackie's undivided attention. He didn't brag about the records they were selling, or the famous people he knew, or the cars he drove. Instead, he asked about you. He wanted to know where you grew up, what your mama was like, what kind of music made you want to dance when you were alone in your bedroom. He listened with a deep, focused intensity, his chin resting in his hand, his dark eyes never leaving your face. Every time you spoke, it felt as if you were the only person left in the universe.

"You really don't trust me, do you?" Jackie asked softly, spinning the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as the remains of dinner were cleared away. The candlelight flickered across his cheekbones, highlighting the gentle, soft lines of his face.

You leaned back against the velvet booth, sighing softly as you looked at him. "It's not just you, Jackie. It's the whole scene. I've seen what happens to women who fall for singers and musicians. Y'all belong to the public. You go on the road, and suddenly you forget everything you promised back home because there's a thousand girls screaming your name. I'm a Black woman trying to make my own way, trying to keep my dignity intact. I can't afford to be a temporary distraction for a superstar."

Jackie’s expression softened into something incredibly tender, but there was a fierce, protective weight behind his eyes. He reached across the table, his large, warm hand stopping just short of yours, waiting for your permission. When you didn't pull away, he gently covered your fingers with his, his palm rough but incredibly gentle. "Listen to me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I know what you see out there. I know what the fellas in the business be doing, running wild and treating women like they disposable. But that ain't how I was raised, and that ain't who I am. My mama, she taught us to respect a woman, to treat her like a queen. And my family... man, my family is everything to me."

He paused, looking down at your joined hands, his thumb gently stroking the back of your knuckles. The slick, charming persona was completely gone now, replaced by the raw honesty of a man who carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. "Folks think it's all glitz and glamour, but being the oldest brother... it's a lot, baby. I gotta keep everybody together. When things get crazy between the boys, or when the business gets heavy, I'm the one who’s gotta stand firm. I gotta be the rock for my brothers, make sure nobody strays too far or gets hurt by this ugly industry. I spend all my day taking care of everybody else, making sure the Jackson name stays clean and the music stays tight."

He looked back up, his eyes shining with a sudden, beautiful vulnerability that caught in your throat. "But sometimes... sometimes I just want to come home and be plain old Sigmund. I want to be with somebody who sees me, the real me, not the brother from the television. I see you in that studio, so strong, so dignified, handling your business without needing nobody's approval, and it just did something to me. You got this wall up so high, and I ain't mad at you for it. You protecting your heart, and that's beautiful. But I want you to know, I'm willing to climb that wall. I'm willing to wait, to show you every single day that I'm for real. I don't want no groupies, baby. I want a woman. I want you."

Hearing him use his real name, seeing the quiet exhaustion and the profound sincerity written across his face, made your heart turn over in your chest. The wall didn't fall down completely, but the foundation was severely shaken. You felt a warmth blooming in your stomach, a sweet, terrifying realization that this man wasn't playing a game. He was yearning for you, truly and deeply.

"Jackie..." you whispered, your fingers shifting beneath his so that you were finally holding his hand back, feeling the strength and the warmth of his grip.

"I'm serious, baby," he murmured, leaning closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Give me a chance to prove it to you. Let me show you how a real man takes care of the woman he wants. Don't shut me out before we even start."

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of a late-night jazz station on the radio. When he pulled his sleek car up to the curb outside your building, he didn't try to slide over or make a slick move. He got out, walked around to your side, and opened the door, offering his hand to help you out. He walked you all the way to your front door, standing under the amber porch light with his hands tucked into his pockets, looking down at you with that soft, yearning expression.

"Thank you for tonight, Jackie," you said, your voice softer than it had ever been with him. "The dinner was beautiful. And... thank you for talking to me. For really talking to me."

Jackie smiled, a gentle, lopsided thing that made him look incredibly sweet. "Anytime, baby. Like I said, I'm in this for the long haul. You sleep good tonight, you hear? I'll see you at the studio tomorrow morning." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your cheek in a touch so feather-light, so respectful, that it left your skin tingling long after he turned and walked back to his car.

Over the next few weeks, the slow burn became a steady, undeniable fire. True to his word, Jackie didn't rush you. Instead, he flooded your life with quiet, deliberate actions meant to show you exactly where you stood with him. He’d show up to the studio early just to bring you your favorite sweet potato pie from a bakery across town. During long, exhausting rehearsals when everyone else was snapping at each other, he’d catch your eye from across the stage and give you a slow, reassuring wink that seemed to say, I got you. If a slick-talking executive tried to speak to you with less than total respect, Jackie would be there in a flash, his tall frame looming protectively, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet growl that made it clear you were entirely under his protection.

The rest of the brothers began to notice the shift. One afternoon, while Jackie was in the vocal booth tracking a difficult harmony, Tito wandered over to where you were organizing the promotional photographs.

"You got him bad, you know that right?" Tito said with a warm, easy chuckle, leaning his elbows on the counter. "I ain't never seen my big brother act this foolish over a girl. He don't even look at the music sheets no more; he just looks at you."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, though you tried to keep your voice neutral. "Jackie's just being a gentleman, Tito."

"Nah, baby, that ain't just gentleman behavior," Tito replied, his expression turning serious, full of brotherly affection. "Siggy’s a softie at heart. He carries a lot of weight for this family, always trying to be the big, strong brother who fixes everything for everyone else. He don't let people in easily because he's terrified of letting us down or showing any weakness. But when he falls, he falls hard. He’s been talking about you non-stop, telling us how smart you are, how beautiful you are. He really wants to do right by you. Don't be too hard on him."

Tito’s words stayed with you for the rest of the day, softening the very last remnants of your resistance. That evening, the studio was empty except for the two of you. The final mixes had been sent off, and the silence in the room was profound. You were sitting at the desk, rubbing your aching temples, when Jackie walked in carrying two cardboard cups of tea. He set one down in front of you, his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder.

"You look tired, baby," he said softly, stepping behind your chair. Before you could protest, his large, warm hands settled onto your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tight knots at the base of your neck. His touch was incredibly strong but perfectly measured, working out the tension with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

You let out a long, shaky breath, your head tilting back against his chest as you finally let go of the control you had been holding onto for so long. "It's just been a long week, Jackie."

"I know," he murmured, his voice right by your ear, warm and heavy. He stopped rubbing your shoulders, his arms wrapping around your neck from behind, pulling you gently against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of your head, his chest rising and falling against your back. "I hate seeing you stressed out. I wish I could just take all this weight off you."

You turned around in the chair, looking up at him. Without the studio lights, in the dim shadow of the office, he looked so incredibly vulnerable. His eyes were wide, filled with an intense, quiet devotion that made your breath catch. The wall was completely gone now, crumbled into dust by the sheer weight of his persistence, his sweetness, and his unwavering care.

"Jackie," you whispered, lifting a hand to gently touch his jawline, feeling the slight roughness of his afternoon stubble. "You don't have to take care of the whole world. You don't have to be perfect for me."

Jackie’s eyes shone with sudden tears, a raw, emotional vulnerability spilling over as he dropped to his knees in front of your chair, taking both of your hands in his. He looked up at you, his face full of a beautiful, desperate love. "I just want to be perfect for you," he choked out, his voice cracked with the depth of his feelings. "I been yearning for you so bad it hurts, baby. I don't care about the fame, I don't care about the music, I don't care about none of it if I can't have you by my side. I want to be the man who makes you feel safe. I want to love you, if you'll just let me."

Seeing this proud, beautiful, superstar of a man on his knees, completely bare and pouring his heart out to you, wiped away every last doubt you had ever harbored. You leaned forward, pulling his face up to yours, your fingers burying themselves in his soft Afro as you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was everything the slow burn had promised—deep, warm, and desperate with months of withheld passion. Jackie let out a soft, ragged sigh against your mouth, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulled you off the chair and down onto the floor with him, holding you as if you were the most precious, fragile thing he had ever held in his life. He kissed you until the room spun, his lips soft and worshipping, tasting faintly of the warm tea and the sweetness of a love that had been hard-won. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy, a beautiful, dazzling smile slowly returning to his face.

"I got you now," he whispered against your lips, his hands smoothing down your back, holding you close to his heart. "I got you, baby, and I ain't never letting go."

——————

AN: Love me some Jackie man!

[huniijaex]

MY ALL

parings: ex!michael x reader

synopsis: you’re michael’s ex. duh. but michael misses you and hopes you miss him too. you come out with a song called ‘my all’ (yes the one by mariah carey) and that tells him everything he needs to know.

warnings: idek, fluff to angst to fluff

a/n: still want my corbin hcs

When you and Michael dated, it was like a dream. You guys were attached by the hip and one of the most popular couples in the music industry.

You guys collaborated in a song together, you went to each other’s events, and overall you supported each other in everything.

You guys were also always interviewed together. Every chance you get, you’d always be sitting next to him, laughing yall asses off and not getting the interview done.

He loved you and you loved him.

But things started to change, and for the worst.

You guys started arguing more and started to avoid each other more. When you guys were interviewed together, you guys didn’t goof around like you used to.

He started becoming absent at your shows and so did you for his. You guys stopped supporting each other in everything.

It got to a point where he slept on the couch and you slept on the bed. And then at one point,

he packed up his bags and left.

When you woke up that day, you remembered getting up and wanting to fix things with him, so you dressed in your cutest outfit and went to look for him.

As you were looking, you noticed the house looked emptier. You noticed certain things in the fridge were gone, his shoes and coats were gone, and when you went up to your shared bedroom, you opened the closet to find out absolutely everything was gone.

His Grammys, awards, clothes, jackets, coats, hats, everything you could think of, it was gone.

What hurt you the most was when you went to the telephone and entered his number.

“Hi, the number you reached is disconnected.”

He changed his number.

You cried and locked yourself in your room for day. When your managers tried calling and coming to your house, you didn’t answer, you didn’t even try to get up. You stayed in your bed, red and swollen eyes, body numb and just no motivation to move.

2 years later..

You were over Michael. Well so you thought. You made sure to avoid him at all costs, every event he was at, you made sure not to attend, and if you did, you’d sit somewhere different. You also had a boyfriend! But, he wasn’t Michael. He was just a rebound. And you felt awful, but you needed a distraction.

You made sure to have your managers check to see if Michael was anywhere in your perimeter because if you saw him, you’d probably cry all over again.

Today was the day your song was going to release. It was about Michael, of course. But it wasn’t a diss track like the one Jermaine made of him.

It was a love song, a sad one. You wanted at least one more night with him. To show him that he should stay with you. That leaving would be a big mistake. But he already left before you could do it.

You sat in your studio, wondering. Wondering about what would’ve happened if you had woken up before him. Showed him why she should’ve stayed with you.

You didn’t realize your assistant, Jess, walked in.

“Ms. (Last name).” You snapped out of your thoughts and turned to your assistant.

“Sorry, I was just zoned out, what’s up?” You said, scratching the back of your head.

“Someone’s here to see you, would you like me to bring them in? Also, they said it’s important.” Jess told you.

“No, my song literally comes out in 5 minutes.” You said, not in the mood to talk with anyone.

“Please, (Name). I wouldn’t be begging if it wasn’t urgent.” She said.

You sighed, “fine, bring them in.”

It was at least 10 seconds later, you looked over your shoulder and you see someone you were not expecting to see.

Marlon Jackson.

“Hey, (Name). Can we talk?” He asked, sitting down.

He didn’t wait for you to answer, he immediately started speaking to you.

“I know you don’t care for my brother anymore, but he would like to see you.” He started.

“No.” You replied.

“I’m not done speaking,” Marlon says, “I just want you to know that he misses you. He wants to make things right, (Name).”

“I love you, but that’s a hell no for me. My song just came out and you’re sitting here talking to me about some Michael, like I don’t care that he misses me. He left me high and dry without a fucking word.” You told him.

“Well let’s listen to your song.” He said, putting in the CD and turning it up.

You guys listened and some things stuck out to Marlon.

‘I’d give my all to have just one more night with you.’

‘I’d risk my life to feel your body next to mine.’

‘Cause I can’t go on living in the memory of our song.’

‘I’d give my all for your love tonight.’

Marlon looked at you like you were stupid. “You don’t care that he misses you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You said to Marlon, and he just laughs at you.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that, mama. Please go talk to him, I’m serious. He’s moping like a little puppy everyday.” He tells you.

“Still a no.” You said.

“I’m not asking you anymore, I’m telling you to go talk to him.” Marlon says.

You sighed, defeatedly. “I will sit close to him at the Grammys. Is that good enough?”

“No, talk to him. Or he talks to you I don’t care just fucking talk, please. And if I find out you guys haven’t talked, I will be taking drastic measures. Love you, (Name).” Marlon said, before leaving.

It was gonna be a long ass day tomorrow.

February 25th, 1986.

You sat in your seat. You got there early because you didn’t want to see Michael already at his seat and looking at you.

You guys sat really close to each other. You were in front, with him and sat a seat away from him. Only a seat.

You tried to look distracted so you did everything to do so, but you got bored so you got up and went to get food.

By the time you came back, almost everyone was in their seats so you went to yours. You looked up and saw him. Michael.

Fuck, you thought.

You both locked eyes. For a good minutes before you snapped out of it and sat down. And he kept staring at you. He missed you so bad, it’s crazy.

For the next hour, you sat there, watching all the artists get their awards and you cheered for all of them.

Then came the R&B award. “And the best R&B Artist of the year award goes to….

(NAME) (LAST NAME)!!!!”

The crowd was loud, they were cheering for you. You obviously knew that you were gonna get it, you were the biggest in the R&B industry. How could you not? So saying that you were shocked would be lying.

You got up there and started with your speech:

“First and foremost, I’d like to thank God, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. I’d also like to thank my friends and family for helping me get here. If it wasn’t for your support, then I wouldn’t be here as well. Lastly I’d like to thank my boyfriend, Mark. Thank you for being there for me. And thank you to my fans, love yall!”

If it wasn’t for the glasses Michael was wearing, you would’ve been met with the stankest face from him. Who the fuck was Mark. He didn’t clap for you after that speech.

As soon as the event ended, you had gotten up, you planned on taking the consequence that Marlon was gonna give you. You just couldn’t talk to him on your own.

Now you don’t have to! Because his ass went right to you once you got outside.

“Who’s Mark?” Michael asked, getting straight to the point.

“My boyfriend. You got ears, right? Unless they don’t work.” You snapped.

“What is wrong with you, (Name)? You’re just gonna throw all of the years we were together away? Just for Mark?” He said, calmly. That was already dangerous.

“Yes, Michael. You got up and left my house so I found someone who’d actually be there and communicate with me.” You told him.

“I’ll be here. I’m here now. I know I wasn’t a good communicator back then, but I’ve changed, angel. I’ve changed and now I wanna start fresh with you, please. Just give me the chance.” He begged, rubbing your shoulders and kissing your cheek.

“Michael, I—” You started, but you couldn’t finish it. You wanted him as much as he wanted you back.

“I know that song was about me. I listened to it. Twenty times. I analyzed it. I know it was about me and you can’t say it wasn’t.” He looked at you.

“But that doesn’t mean anything.” You lied.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, (Name).” He said, firmly. “You know damn well that you weren’t writing to Mark. He doesn’t know you like I do.”

“H-he does.” You lied, again.

“Does he know you from the inside out? Does he know how wet you get? Does he know where your sensitive spots are? I bet he doesn’t, I do, (Name). I do. Please.” He kissed you after he said that.

Wanna know what you did? You let him, and you gave in. You kissed him as passionately as he was kissing you.

He pushed you against the wall and pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Michael.” You responded.

“We’d make beautiful babies. I just know that.” He giggled, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“So what now?” You asked.

“I take you to your ‘boyfriends’ house and you pick up all your things. You’re living with me now, my baby.” He said, giving you another kiss.

He knew you, if he were to leave again, he knew you’d come right back if he begged. And he has a sense that you know that too.

[inherdreamzzz]

does anyone know fandoms where a black girl ends up with a black partner or is regularly shipped with another black person. like any at all because i'm wracking my brain and i can't 😭

i'm tired of looking swirl obsessed because writers can only fathom one poc in a relationship esp if the fmc is black 😓