Midnight Confessions
Pairing:Jackie Taylor x Fem!Reader
Wc: 4,200
Rating :Explicit (18+ Only)
Warnings:Smut, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving and giving), fingering, scissoring/ tribbing, praise kink, light teasing
Summary:A late-night sleepover at Jackie's house starts innocent-movies, snacks, giggles-but when the lights dim and secrets spill, the tension that's been building between you two finally snaps into something heated and undeniable.
The Taylor house was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors. Jackie's parents were away for the weekend—some fancy conference in the city—so the place felt bigger, softer, like it belonged just to the two of you. You'd shown up after practice with your duffel bag, wearing the same soft pink hoodie Jackie had complimented last week ("It makes your eyes pop, seriously"), and she'd greeted you at the door in tiny sleep shorts and an oversized Yellowjackets tee that slipped off one shoulder.
"Finally," she'd said, pulling you into a hug that lingered a second too long, her vanilla shampoo mixing with the faint strawberry of her lip gloss. "I thought you'd bail and leave me to watch rom-coms alone."
"Never," you'd laughed, following her upstairs to her room.
The space screamed Jackie: pale pink walls, fairy lights strung around the headboard, a vanity cluttered with lip products and hair ties, posters of the team mixed with magazine cutouts of models in preppy outfits. Her bed was massive—queen-sized with too many throw pillows—and she'd already set up a nest of blankets on the floor for "movie marathon vibes," even though you both knew you'd end up on the bed anyway.
You started with pizza (half pepperoni for her, veggie for you), then migrated to her laptop for a string of cheesy 90s movies. Halfway through the second one—something about prom queens and heartbreak—Jackie cracked open the bottle of rosé she'd swiped from the fridge downstairs.
"Just a little," she said, winking as she poured into mismatched mugs. "My mom's not gonna notice two glasses missing."
You clinked mugs, giggling at how fancy it felt even though it was just cheap pink wine. The alcohol warmed your cheeks quickly, loosening the edges of everything. Conversation drifted from team drama (Lottie being weird again, Shauna acting distant) to deeper stuff—college applications, fears about leaving Wiskayok, what came after high school.
Jackie leaned back against the headboard, legs stretched out, bare feet brushing yours under the blanket. Her blonde hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and every time she laughed, her head tilted back, exposing the long line of her throat.
"You know," she said quietly during a lull in the movie, "sometimes I think about how everything's gonna change. Like... us. You and me. We'll still be friends, right? Even if we're in different states?"
Your heart did a stupid flip. "Of course. You're stuck with me, Taylor."
She smiled, but it was softer than usual—vulnerable. "Good. Because I don't know what I'd do without you."
The movie kept playing, but neither of you was watching anymore. Jackie shifted closer, her knee pressing against your thigh. The room felt smaller, warmer. You could smell her—vanilla, wine, the faint salt of her skin from earlier practice.
"Hey," she whispered, turning to face you. Her hazel eyes caught the fairy lights, sparkling. "Can I ask you something kinda weird?"
"Always."
"Have you ever... thought about me? Like... more than friends?"
Your breath caught. Heat rushed to your face, but you didn't look away. "Yeah. A lot."
Jackie's lips parted. She didn't speak right away—just stared, like she was seeing you for the first time. Then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Me too," she admitted, voice barely audible. "I think about it all the time. Your laugh. The way you look at me during games. How soft your skin looks when you're changing in the locker room."
The confession hung between you, electric.
You leaned in first—or maybe she did. It didn't matter. Your lips met in a tentative kiss, sweet and hesitant, tasting like rosé and nerves. Jackie sighed against your mouth, hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
The kiss deepened fast. Tongues brushed, tentative then hungry. Jackie made a small, needy sound that shot straight through you. Her hands roamed—over your shoulders, down your arms—then under the hem of your hoodie, fingertips grazing bare skin.
"Is this okay?" she murmured against your lips.
"More than okay," you breathed.
She smiled—bright, a little wicked—and pushed you gently back against the pillows. The movie droned on forgotten in the background. Jackie straddled your hips, her sleep shorts riding up, revealing smooth thighs. She looked down at you like you were something precious.
"You're so pretty," she whispered, fingers tracing your collarbone. "I've wanted to do this forever."
She kissed you again, slower this time, rolling her hips experimentally. You both gasped at the friction. Her tee slipped further, one strap of her bralette showing—pink lace, delicate.
You tugged at her shirt. "Off."
Jackie laughed softly, sitting up to pull it over her head. Her hair tumbled back down, messy and perfect. Underneath, her skin was golden from summer practices, curves soft and inviting. The bralette barely contained her; nipples already hard against the lace.
Your hands found her waist, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. She shivered, arching into your touch.
"Your turn," she said, voice husky.
You let her peel off your hoodie and tank top, cool air hitting your skin. Jackie's eyes darkened as she looked at you—really looked.
"God," she breathed. "You're gorgeous."
She leaned down, kissing a path from your neck to your chest, lips soft and warm. When she took a nipple into her mouth, you moaned, fingers threading through her blonde hair. She sucked gently, tongue swirling, then switched sides, hand cupping the other breast, thumb teasing.
"Jackie—"
"Shh," she murmured. "Let me take care of you."
She kissed lower—stomach, hips—until she was settled between your legs. Your shorts and underwear came off in one smooth motion. Jackie paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, asking permission without words.
You nodded, heart pounding.
She kissed the inside of your thigh first—soft, teasing—then higher, breath hot against your center. When her tongue finally touched you, flat and slow, you cried out, hips bucking.
Jackie hummed in approval, the vibration making you see stars. She licked in long, deliberate strokes, circling your clit, then sucking gently. One hand held your thigh open; the other slipped two fingers inside, curling just right.
You were loud—couldn't help it. Moans, gasps, her name over and over. Jackie worked you expertly, like she'd thought about this as much as you had. She added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, tongue never stopping.
"Come for me," she whispered against you. "I want to feel it."
The command tipped you over. You came hard, thighs clamping around her head, back arching off the bed. Jackie didn't stop—kept licking softly through the aftershocks until you were trembling, oversensitive.
She crawled back up, kissing you deeply. You tasted yourself on her lips, salty-sweet.
"Your turn," you said, voice wrecked.
Jackie grinned, lying back and spreading her legs. "Please."
You kissed down her body the same way—neck, breasts (paying special attention to the way she whimpered when you bit gently), stomach. When you reached her shorts, she lifted her hips eagerly. No underwear—just bare, glistening.
You groaned at the sight. "You're soaked."
"All for you," she said, cheeks pink.
You started slow—kissing her folds, tasting her. She was sweet, musky, addictive. You licked up to her clit, flicking gently, then sucked. Jackie moaned loud, hands fisting the sheets.
"Fuck—yes, just like that—"
You slid two fingers in, pumping slowly while your tongue worked her clit. She was tight, wet, clenching around you. You curled your fingers, hitting that spot that made her gasp.
"Harder," she begged. "Please—"
You added a third, thrusting faster, tongue relentless. Jackie's hips rocked, chasing it. Her moans turned desperate, breathy.
"I'm—oh god—I'm gonna—"
She came with a cry, thighs shaking, pulsing around your fingers. You kept going until she tugged you up, kissing you messily, tasting herself.
For a minute you just held each other, breathing hard, skin slick with sweat.
But Jackie wasn't done.
She rolled on top again, smirking. "I want more."
She positioned herself so your legs intertwined, cores pressing together. The first slide of wet heat against wet heat made you both groan.
"Like this?" she asked, rolling her hips experimentally.
You nodded, hands on her ass, guiding her.
She found a rhythm—slow at first, grinding down, clit rubbing against yours. Then faster, harder. The slick sounds filled the room, obscene and perfect.
Jackie leaned down, kissing you sloppy, tongues tangling. Her breasts brushed yours with every roll. You reached between you, thumb finding her clit, rubbing circles while she ground against you.
"Yes—fuck—don't stop—"
You matched her pace, hips bucking up. The pressure built fast—coiling tight.
"Come with me," Jackie panted. "Together—"
You did. The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through both of you. Jackie cried out your name, body shuddering, grinding down one last time as she came again. You followed seconds later, nails digging into her hips, vision whiting out.
You collapsed together, tangled and sweaty, hearts racing.
Jackie nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses there. "That was... wow."
"Yeah," you whispered, stroking her hair. "Wow."
She pulled the blanket over you both, curling into your side. "Stay the night? Like... actually stay."
"Always," you said.
She smiled sleepily, already drifting. "Good. Because I think I'm falling for you."
Your heart swelled. "Me too, Jackie."
The fairy lights twinkled above as you held each other, the movie long forgotten, the night wrapping around you like a promise.
