Husband!Andrew Cody who sets it in stone in your house that Sundays are for cleaning.
MDNI 18+
He's pounding on your kids doors, waking them up while holding a dirty laundry basket. "Hey get up! Help your momma clean this house." He's shouting at the closed doors.
You're smiling, wiping down a counter as a fall breeze floats through an open window. Soft halloween beats playing from your TV in the living room. Andrew's kissing your cheek in passing on his way to the laundry room.
Your kids emerge sleepily from their rooms, groaning and sitting at the island where you put plates of breakfast in front of them. Andrew comes back and you pop a strawberry into his mouth before he kisses you.
Your kids groan and whine with a couple "gross"s and that only makes you kiss him harder and they groan again, making you pull away giggling. It smells like pumpkin candle you have burning in your living room all through the house.
He smiles and stands behind you as you watch them eat and talk about their Saturday nights. Your husband cages you in from behind hands setting against the marble of the island as he leans his chin on your shoulder, listening in too.
"You" he points to your son, "are gonna vacuum the living room after you eat, and you", he points to your twin daughter, "are gonna mop this kitchen after you eat, hm?" He rounds the island, grabbing the sides of both their heads and kissing them before nodding towards your shared bedroom.
You pour them some orange juice and then follow him. He pulls you in, closes the door and presses you against it, kissing your neck. "Andrew" you giggle, hands landing on his shoulders, he grunts into your neck.
"Love you s' much." He says lowly, nipping at your earlobe. "Love the life we've built." You swallow thickly pulling back and cupping his face in your hands. "I love you too" you frown in adoration, pecking him on the lips.
He growls and picks you up by the bottom of your thighs, and laying you back against the bed as you giggle kissing him. He crawls over you just as you hear the vacuum start in the living room.
summary: you hated jack, and you were positive he hated you too. two broken down cars and one blizzard bring the truth to the surface.
warnings: no age gap :(, med student!jack and med student!reader, I'm imagining they're both 26 and in the last year of med school, forced proximity, one sided e2l, there's only one bed! oh no!, cuddle or die, jack is kind of a dick , reader thinks jack is gonna kill her, don't worry he's just hopelessly in love, jack calls reader a bitch, love confessions, getting together, wearing jack's clothes, spooning, grinding, fingering, kissing, hickies, accidental somnophilia, dry humping, unprotected sex, big dick jack, belly bulge, creampie, mating press, sex in a strangers home
author's note: idfk what time period this is set in, im just here to sexualize this man
we're playing fast and loose with how both med school works and jack lore. I'm back to spreading my 'jacks legal first name is John' agenda. also, I barely know how undergrad works, since I am a drop out! suspend your disbelief, my more educated mutuals
There’s no way the universe should be this insistent on fucking you over.
Your shitbox of a car died a day before you were set to present your research at a conference in upstate New York in the middle of January. It was the biggest opportunity of your medical school career so far, and was going to secure your residency. But you couldn’t afford to fix it or buy plane tickets and there was no bus that could get you from Pittsburgh to Syracuse in time.
So when your program advisor called you into his office to say he found another student driving to the conference that would be willing to carpool, you nearly jumped for joy. Until the next words out of his mouth put a bullet in the brain of your newfound hope.
“-Jack Abbot! You’ve met him, right? You’re in the same year.”
Yes, you had met Jack Abbot. Several, miserable times.
Every interaction you’d had with Jack ended with you seething and him smirking. He seemed to be addicted to pushing your buttons every chance he could.
But you didn’t have a choice. And you’d definitely made sure to verify that Jack was your only option. You must have asked every other student you had classes with, but they were either flying or not going at all. So you were stuck with him.
Stuck in the confined space of the cab of his small truck, side by side on the bench seat, for five and a half hours.
Everything about him pissed you off. His perfect curls were irritating, especially since you were sure he used 15-in-1 soap to wash it, the woodsy scent of his aftershave made every breath feel agonizing, and the way his legs were spread wide was obscene. It was his car, you had no right to complain that he was taking up so much space. But god did you wish he was cowering against the door like you were. You wished he put more space between the two of you, but the small cab left about a foot between you, even with you folding your body into the farthest corner your seatbelt allowed. It was entirely too close for comfort.
You’d made it a point to avoid looking at him as much as possible since this disastrous ride had begun 2 hours ago. So far, you’ve managed to mostly succeed, focusing on the falling snow and the freezing scenery outside. But you felt his eyes on you every few miles. His gaze was hot whenever it landed on you. You could feel it, even through your thick sweatshirt and jeans.
But Jack didn’t say anything. He hadn’t said a single word since you’d met him in front of your apartment building at 1 pm and loaded up your bags into the covered bed. It was unusual for him. Normally, he liked to goad you into a reaction, sending barbs your way constantly. So the silence unnerved you. You didn’t know how to exist in a space with Jack Abbot when you weren’t on the defensive.
And then the universe decided to fuck you even harder.
The snow was falling even harder as Jack pulled off the freeway and onto a smaller back road. You wanted to question him, but you didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. Plus, you didn’t know where you were. For all you knew, Jack had driven through this area a thousand times before.
But the farther you got down the road, the heavier the snow was getting and the slower Jack was driving. You hadn’t seen another car or building for the past 30 minutes and the plows clearly weren’t running out here.
And then - truly the cherry on top- the engine started sputtering.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jack braked hard, the tires slipping slightly as he pulled off the road onto the shoulder.
“What the fuck?” You looked over at him for the first time in an hour.
Jack threw the truck in park before he was grabbing his coat. “Stay here.”
Where the fuck did he think you were going to go? You were in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a snowstorm. The cab of the truck was pleasantly warm, and the burst of cold air when Jack opened his door convinced you even more that you were not going to get out.
You watched him round the front. He popped the hood of the truck, hiding him from view. What the hood didn’t hide, though, was the cloud of smoke that billowed out.
“Oh fuck me,” there was no way you were making it to the convention. You checked your phone. No service. Of course.
The hood slammed shut and you jumped, looking up to watch Jack walk back around to the drivers side. He slid back in, shutting the door hard behind him and scrubbing a hand over his face.
“We’re fucked.”
“What are we going to do?” You chewed on your bottom lip as you looked at the land around you. “I do not want to die of hypothermia in your shitty truck.”
“My truck isn’t shitty,” he sounded like a petulant child.
“It just fucking died on us,” you leveled a glare at him. “I’d say that makes it shitty.”
He grumbled something under his breath.
Both of you sat in silence for a moment.
“We need to find somewhere to shelter,” Jack was looking out the windows.
“There is nothing out - ”
“There,” he was pointing into the trees at something that you could not see. Everything blended together in the dim lighting and haze of falling snow.
“What?”
“There,” Jack started gathering a few things scattered around. His phone, his water bottle, and the keys made the cut, all being stuffed into the pocket of his heavy duty coat. “There’s a cabin.”
“Bullshit there's a cabin. I don’t see anything,” you really didn’t. All you could see was a mass of black and gray and green.
“There is,” he opened his door again. “Are you coming or are you going to freeze to death here?”
There wasn’t much of a choice. You could already feel the chill creeping in through the thin glass of the windows now that the engine was dead. You could follow Jack into the woods and either find shelter or freeze to death in the snow, or stay in the truck and freeze to death in the carcass of his shitbox.
No matter what, the threat of hypothermia was real and, even though you weren’t officially a doctor yet, you knew the risks. So you gave one last long suffering sigh, and opened your door.
You were immediately thankful you’d put leggings on beneath your jeans that morning. The temperature change slapped you in the face as soon as you stepped out into the ankle deep snow.
Jack was rifling through the bed of the truck, pulling out his duffel bag. You watched him hesitate for a minute, before abandoning the garment bag containing the suit he’d packed. You tried not to think about just how good he’d look in a formal get up.
“Grab your shit,” Jack was pulling on a pair of gloves. His cheeks were already rosy from the freezing wind. “We’ve gotta get there fast.”
You gathered your things, yanking your own gloves and coat out of your bag. You left your own garment bag containing the gown you’d thrifted for the final banquet in the bed alongside the covered poster board for your research. It was going to be ruined if you and Jack ever made it back to the truck alive, given that there was not a chance you’d be making it to the conference, you didn’t bother trying to save it.
“Lead the way,” you slung your bag over your shoulder, pulling the hood up over your head to try and shield you as much as possible from the chill.
Jack led you across the frozen road and down into the treeline. The snow came up to mid calf, soaking your feet through your boots. Very quickly, you started to shiver, trying to curl into yourself as you walked.
You were both grateful and pissed to see the shape of the cabin come into view. You needed to get warm, but you did not want to admit Jack was right.
It took about 20 minutes for you to reach the front porch. By now, the snow was falling so hard that you couldn’t see the road or the truck through the haze.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Jack tried the door handle, sighing with relief when it swung open.
The inside of the cabin was simple. About the same size as your studio apartment back in Pittsburgh. It was dark, but you could see a fireplace against one wall, across from a full sized bed. There was a small kitchenette and a small bathroom you could see through a half open door. The whole place was dusty and looked like it hadn’t been used since last summer, but it would have to do.
Both you and Jack tumbled in. It was cold, but at least the sturdy wooden walls kept the wind chill out.
“You got a lighter?” Jack was already moving towards the fireplace, inspecting a few of the logs piled next to it. He seemed to approve of a few of them, piling them up.
“Yeah, here,” you fished a lighter out of your jacket pocket, tossing it to him as you set your bag down on the bed.
You watched him for a moment. He shed his coat, pushing the sleeves of his sweatshirt up as he set a few scraps of newspaper alight. With a gentle few breaths, he grew the flame before placing it under the pile of logs he’d formed in the fireplace. It took a moment, but gradually the flames grew until there was a bright, flickering fire lighting up the small room.
You could feel the warmth it was putting off starting to seep into you, but it wasn’t enough. Your coat was still on, but you were shivering beneath it.
Jack noticed, doing a double take over his shoulder when he saw you still standing by the bed.
“Come over here.”
“I’m fine,” your voice was unsteady.
“You need to get warm,” Jack was untying his boots, digging through his bag for a new pair of socks as he discarded the damp pair he’d been wearing. “You’re gonna get frostbite.”
“No, I’m not,” but you were moving towards him, crossing the small room to stand beside him in front of the fireplace.
“Take off your clothes.”
You looked over at Jack like he’d grown a second head, ready to tell him off. But the words died in your throat when you saw he was stripping his shirt and hoodie off, leaving him bare from the waist up. You froze for a moment, eyes wide and brain buffering, until his hands grabbed for the zipper of his jeans.
“What the fuck?!” You spun around, trying to will your blush away.
“We need to get into dry clothes and get warm,” the shuffling sounds of his clothes hitting the floor was tempting you to turn around. You wanted just a little peak.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t.”
And then Jack’s hands were at your waist, pulling up your sweatshirt.
“Woah!” You spun away from him, putting distance between you and begging your heart to slow down its rapid beating.
“I’m not letting you blame me when your toes fall off,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. He’d changed into a plain black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and thick wool socks. God damn it, he looked good. “I won’t look, but you need to change.”
“Fine,” you walked back towards your bag. “Don’t look.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jack’s eyes raked over you once before he was turning back to face the fire.
You moved quickly, stripping out of your layers. You’d been planning on being in a nice, cosy hotel and convention center, tucked safely away from the cold, so you’d only brought jeans, slacks, and your comfortable sleep shorts. Tight, spandex shorts that left very little to the imagination. The leggings you wore under your jeans were soaked up to the thighs with melted snow and unwearable.
So you grabbed your most modest shorts, although ‘modest’ was a stretch. They were tight and short, covered completely by the oversized crewneck you pulled on after. You didn’t have too many options for socks, stuck with a relatively thin pair of white ankle length ones. Your nice, insulating ones were soaked from your trek through the snow.
“Is it safe yet?”
You glanced over at Jack, silhouetted against the fire. His shoulders looked a hell of a lot broader than you’d realized, the muscles of his arms standing out. God fucking damnit.
“Yeah, it’s safe,” you cleared your throat, looking away from him as you moved your bag away from the bed, setting it on the floor by the nightstand.
“That’s what you’re wearing to not freeze?”
His judgmental tone made you bristle, reminding your traitorous mind that you did, in fact, hate this man.
“I didn’t have a lot of options,” you unnecessarily straightened your duffel, looking anywhere but at him. “I didn’t plan for you to get us stranded in the fucking woods. I packed for a fancy hotel and a conference, which is where we would be if you didn’t try to kill us.”
“I didn’t try to kill us,” he scoffed. You risked a glance at him. He was digging through his own bag. “I took a shortcut to go around the traffic on the interstate. Here.”
He wadded up a pair of flannel pants and threw them at you. You caught them, trying not to take a deep breath. They smelled like detergent and that addicting smell of his cologne.
“These are fucking ugly,” the idea of wearing his clothes and being stuck in such a small space with him triggered your fight or flight instinct. Seeing as flight wasn’t a reasonable option with a blizzard outside, you decided to fight.
“By all means,” Jack rolled his eyes. “Freeze to death because my pants are ugly. I’d finally get some peace and quiet.”
“The fuck do you mean ‘peace and quiet’? I didn’t say a fucking thing the whole car ride!”
“Yeah, and it was fantastic.”
Grumbling to yourself about what a dick he was, you gave in. You were fully aware he was trying to get you to wear the stupid pants. You could sacrifice your pride to put them on and deny him the satisfaction of you going silent.
“Maybe if I’d said something, we wouldn’t be stuck here,” you tugged the god awful pants up over your shorts, having to double know the waistband to keep them up around your hips.
“Oh so you agree, this is your fault,” Jack looked smug. He sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, his legs spread out before him. His feet were blisteringly close to the flames. You hoped his stupid socks caught on fire.
“How is this my fault? I didn’t tell you to drive off the main road in the middle of a snowstorm. This is your fault,” begrudgingly, you made your way towards him. You sat down 3 feet away from him, relishing the wave of heat that greeted you once you were close to the fire. The rest of the space was slowly warming up, but the cold still seeped in through the fogged over windows and wooden walls.
“Well I wouldn’t be stuck out here if I didn’t have to drive you to this stupid convention,” Jack leaned back on his palms. He looked calm and relaxed, and that made you even more irritated.
“Oh, so you only took this backroad because of me,” you stretched out your hands to warm your frigid fingers. “Glad you admitted this was attempted murder.”
“‘Attempted murder’ my ass,” he shook his head, narrowing his eyes. His gaze scanned you from head to toe. You told yourself the shiver that ran through your body was from the cold. “I would be nice and cosy in my apartment if it wasn’t for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I only agreed to go to the conference because you needed a ride.”
“Bullshit,” you scoffed. That didn’t make any sense. Why the hell would Jack do that? He’d been a massive dick since you met him. Every group project or hospital rotation you ended up on with him was hell. He pushed your buttons, poking and prodding at you with sharp little quips until you snapped.
Jack didn’t say anything. He turned his face back towards the fire, focusing on the flickering flames.
“Jack…?”
He stayed silent.
You didn’t know what to say. You were confused. He hates you, so why would he agree to be locked in a car with you for an extended amount of time. Maybe he truly did want to lure you out into the woods and kill you.
But why? Sure, you were classmates, both competing for residency spots in a technical sense, but that wasn’t strictly true. It pained you to admit it, but Jack was in a league of his own. He was smart. Annoyingly so. He was constantly at the top of your class, leading test scores by a mile. You weren’t stupid, not at all, but Jack was something else. You weren’t competition for him.
“Did you…” How do you ask a classmate if he planned to kill you? You swallowed hard, suddenly very nervous. “Did you bring me out here to - to get rid - ”
“Jesus Christ, [name],” he finally looked at you again, sitting up and resting his elbows on his outstretched legs. He looked horrified. “You think I agreed to drive you, took a shortcut, and sabotaged my truck to - to what? Kill you?”
“Then why did you agree to drive me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around it.
“Just drop it, ok?” He scrubbed a hand down his face, rubbing at his jaw and looking away.
“Just doesn’t make sense,” you were mumbling. You scanned him, reading the tension in his shoulders.
“Drop. It.” This was the most emotion you’d seen him exhibit in all four years you’d been in school together. His jaw was clenched.
In the flickering light, it was hard to tell if his cheeks were flushed from the rising heat of the fire or if he was actually blushing.
“No, I’m not going to drop it,” you finally had a chance to push his buttons, but you also wanted to know why he’d go out of his way to drive 12+ hours round trip if he wasn’t presenting or trying to network at the conference. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I like you, alright?” He buried his face in his hands. “I’ve liked you for years. I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to spend time with you. I like being near you, I like talking to you when you’re not being a bitch - ”
“Don’t you fucking dare call me a bitch, Jack Abbot,” you were still trying to process his confession, the wheels in your brain turning at a snails pace.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re right. I’m so sorry, I’m fucking this up,” Jack took a deep breath, lifting his head to look at you. His expression was pained. “I like talking to you when you’re not trying to piss me off, and even when you are, I still enjoy it. You’re smart, you’re gorgeous - incredibly gorgeous. And we’re about to graduate soon, we’re both leaving for residency in a few months and I couldn’t - I couldn’t not say anything.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Jack paused for a moment at your silence, but then he carried on like he couldn’t stop.
“I practiced this whole little speech for the gala at the end of the weekend,” he laughed sardonically, running a hand through his curls. “I was gonna pull you to the side, somewhere pretty and romantic and tell you how amazing I thought you were, how beautiful you looked in whatever dress you brought. I was gonna ask you out on a date when we got back to Pittsburgh. And then I fucked it up. I swear, I didn’t know my truck was going to die.”
He was definitely blushing now. “And I didn’t take a shortcut. I went the long way around to get more time with you since I knew you’d ignore me as soon as we got to the hotel. But I really was trying to avoid traffic on the interstate! I just didn’t expect it to start snowing so hard.”
For a second, you were quiet. You still didn’t know how to respond, but words fell from your lips before you could stop them.
“The car ride back would have been awkward as fuck if I said no.”
Jack laughed, eyes crinkling as he shook his head.
“Yeah, it would have been,” he sobered up, hope sparking in his eyes. “But I was willing to risk the humiliation if there was a chance you’d give me a shot.”
Would you have given him a shot? You didn’t know. For years you’d been so insistent that you hated him, but you couldn’t deny that you’d been attracted to him since day 1. You’d noticed him immediately at orientation, but you hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him until the first randomly assigned group project in your cadaver lab. He’d been a know-it-all, correcting your technique with a scalpel, raising one of those condescending eyebrows and judging every move you’d made. It rubbed you the wrong way, and clouded your perception of him.
You’d written him off after that, but the two of you kept being forced together. Same professor assigned group projects, similar friend circles, same hospital rotations. Every interaction just reinforced your view of him. It pissed you off every time you caught him staring at you, every time he sat next to you in lectures, asked to share your notes, when he poked and prodded and teased you.
But everything looked very different with the knowledge that he’d been into you since the beginning. Now, he looked less like a piece of shit that wanted to torment you and more like a lovesick puppy that wanted your attention. Either way, it wasn’t a flattering look for him, but the latter option was much more forgivable than the former.
“So?”
You jumped, ripped out of your thoughts to find Jack staring at you again.
“So…?”
“Do I get a chance?” He looked terrified of what your response would be.
“I - ” you didn’t know. Your mind was spinning, trying to parse out your feelings and figure out exactly how you were feeling about the situation.
“It’s ok if you don’t feel the same way,” his hand ran through his hair again, tugging at his curls as he went. “I get it, I’ve been a dick - ”
“No - I mean, yes you have been, but,” you took a deep breath. “I - I don’t know. I had no clue you felt this way. I’m just… trying to process this.”
“Ok, yeah, yeah that’s ok,” Jack was nodding, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Yeah, I mean, you don’t owe me an answer. And you can say no.”
He laughed again, but it was gruff and self deprecating.
“I swear I’m not going to kill you if you say no.”
“Gee, that makes me feel so much better.”
Both of you were quiet for a moment, and then you burst out laughing. A real laugh, not the sad imitation Jack had let out previously. You felt hysterical, the situation did not call for the intensity of the laughter spilling from you, but it did help to diffuse the tension that had been rising in the confined space.
When you were able to calm yourself, both of you gasping for breath and staring into the flames, your thoughts turned back to everything. You were hesitant to just accept, still struggling to reframe the last 3 ½ years now that you had more context. But you were curious.
“If we live,” you broke the silence that had fallen over the room. “If we make it out of this fucking murder cabin, I’ll give you a chance.”
Jack snorted, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Then we better survive.”
The two of you sat there in front of the fire for a few more hours, passing bags of chips and candies back and forth, trying to make the time go by and conserve the batteries of your phones. You drifted in and out of conversation and silence. Surprisingly, you found yourself enjoying talking to him. For the first time since you’d been introduced, you had a pleasant conversation. Neither of you brought up his confession or your tentative acceptance.
Instead, you asked about him. And you learned a lot, shockingly. You knew the basics; he was a few months older than you, he was too smart for his own good, and he’d sold his soul to the Army and would be doing his residency at a military hospital. You almost envied the fact that he got to skip the stress of match day. Almost. You would absolutely not trade that stress in exchange for the next 10 years of your life.
Jack was from Maryland, and he was getting to go back to do his residency at Walter Reed. You saw his eyes light up with hope when you told him your first choice for residency was John Hopkins, but he didn’t say anything. You’d be pretty damn close to each other if you got lucky, but you didn’t dwell on that.
His first name was actually John, and he looked disgusted by it, but his expression softened when you laughed after he revealed he was actually John Andrew Abbot III. You pretended not to notice that, too.
You shared information of your own, also. Jack smiled when you told him about your childhood pets. He laughed when you told him silly stories from undergrad. He stayed quiet, letting you speak when you shared about struggling to make ends meet while still in school.
It endeared you but also pissed you off that he knew just how to react. He was empathetic and sweet when he wasn’t pushing your buttons.
You liked talking to Jack, you realized. You liked getting to know him.
The two of you had started yawning about an hour ago, but neither of you were ready to stop talking. It was only when the conversation finally lulled and you found yourself fighting against your increasingly heavy eyelids.
“We should get some sleep,” Jack was pushing himself up from the floor, dusting off his hands and sweats as he went. He extended a hand to you, and you found yourself not hesitating to take it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. His hand was warm and steady, and you found yourself fighting off a twinge of disappointment when he let go. “You can take the bed.”
“What? No,” there was only one bed in the one room cabin. It was so small, there wasn’t even room for a couch. The only other furniture in the space was a small kitchen table and two chairs, and a beaten up armchair covered by a thin white sheet. “Where are you going to sleep?”
He shrugged, shifting his duffel closer and moving the clothes in it around until he seemed satisfied with the shape. “Here, in front of the fire. I can make sure it keeps going all night.”
“No,” you grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving towards a small linen closet neither of you had bothered to peek into so far. “No, you’re not sleeping on the floor. We…”
He raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking between your face and your hand still holding onto his bicep. You let go, taking a step back.
“We can share the bed,” you glanced over your shoulder. The bed was small, probably full sized. Just barely big enough to fit the two of you, although you’d have to scoot pretty close to the edge to avoid touching.
“I’m not complaining about sharing a bed with you,” Jack looked at the bed too. “I think I’ve made myself clear about that - ”
You swallowed hard. You hadn’t let yourself think about that aspect of his confession. In fact, you’d beaten it back into the shadowy corners of your mind as aggressively as you could. You wouldn’t survive however long your confinement was going to be if you let yourself think about the more physical implications of Jack being into you.
He looked down at you. The light from the fire was dancing across the planes of his face, knocking the breath out of your lungs with how ethereal he looked. He was handsome everyday, but he looked unreal in this lighting.
“ - but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You haven’t told me how you feel, and you haven’t agreed to go out with me - not that that means you have to… y’know…” he seemed to be struggling to find the words. He was blushing again. “Be… be that close to me.”
“I - ” you paused, searching for the right words. You really were starting to be willing to give him a chance, especially with how well your conversations had gone. And yes, fine, maybe you’d been physically attracted to him from the beginning, but when you’d found yourself in moments of weakness before, you’d imagined any sort of physical or intimate encounter being… well, not nearly so emotionally charged. In those late night fantasies, it was rough, aggressive, something born out of hate and frustration. But now, he looked nervous, his eyes soft and apprehensive. You once again didn’t know how to handle this type of interaction with him.
So, you decided to be an adult about it. For fucks sake, you were 26. You could share a bed with a man who just confessed he’d been in love with you for years and who you’d been fantasizing about for just as long.
You cleared your throat, taking your hand off his arm. “We can share a bed without… without it being anything more.”
“Right, right, of course,” Jack let out a breath. “As long as you’re ok, then yeah.”
“Yeah,” you were a big fat liar. “It’ll be fine.”
So the two of you got ready for your doom. You gathered your toiletries as Jack threw a few more logs on the fire to hopefully keep it going all night.
The bathroom thankfully had running water, even if the rest of the cabin had no electricity, so you were able to take turns brushing your teeth. You went first, taking many deep breaths and giving yourself a silent pep talk in the small, dark room.
“All yours!” Your smile and chipper attitude felt forced when you let him have his turn. You sat on the side of the bed with your bag, digging through it, searching for nothing to give your anxious hands something to do.
“You ready for bed?”
Jack came out of the bathroom, crossing to the other side of the bed and starting to pull back the covers. You stook, giving him a nod and pulling back the ones on your side. Both of you slipped in silently.
“Good night,” Jack rolled over, his back to you, facing the front door.
You followed his lead, turning your back to him and trying to snuggle in underneath the thin blankets. “Good night.”
Jack’s pants and the residual warmth in your clothes from sitting in front of the fire for so long helped lull you to sleep, and quickly, you found yourself falling under.
When you woke, it was to a warm presence at your back and freezing air nipping at the exposed skin of your face. It was completely dark in the room, no light coming in through the windows or from the now extinguished fireplace.
You pushed back, chasing the heat behind you. That’s when you became aware of several things at once.
That warmth behind you was Jack. The entire length of his body was pressed against yours and his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, one above and one below, keeping you firmly in place. Those arms were underneath your sweatshirt, one palm resting just below your breasts and the other right above the waistband of your borrowed pants. His face was nuzzled in the crook of your neck, breath hot against the sensitive skin.
You tried to shift, to move out of his hold and restart the fire so that you didn’t have to confront exactly how hot the skin on skin contact was making you deep inside.
Jack didn’t let you move, though. His arm tightened around you, tugging you back against him even more firmly. That was when you really felt him. The hard length of his cock was pressed against your ass.
He was still asleep, but that didn’t stop his hips from grinding forward. You gasped, clenching your thighs together. Involuntarily, you pressed back against him again. His hand shifted up, sliding over your breast and loosely squeezing the flesh.
“Jack,” your voice was quiet and broken around another gasp as he pushed his length against your ass again.
He mumbled something incoherent, before squeezing your breast again. The hand on your stomach dipped lower, his fingers just beginning to slide underneath your bottoms.
You were existing between sleep and waking, half convinced this was some sort of extremely vivid dream.Your pulse was racing, hips pushing back to meet his at every sleepy movement. Both of you were breathing harder, the cold seemingly beaten back by the rising heat between you.
“[Name],” you could just barely make out the slurred groan of your name breathed against your neck. It sparked even more heat in your core to hear him say your name.
“Jack?”
God, you sounded fucked out already. Jack’s hand was pushing even farther into your pants and under the shorts you wore beneath.
The first brush of his fingers over your folds had you whining, and that was when Jack finally woke up.
You felt him freeze behind you, his hands tightening on reflex, dragging his fingers through your folds and against your clit. It ripped an embarrassing moan out of you, your hips pushing back against his cock in response to the jolt of pleasure.
“[Name]?” Jack’s voice was sleepy and confused.
“Jack,” you whined in response.
“Oh fuck,” he pulled back, hands leaving you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Wait - ” but Jack wasn’t listening
“Fuck, I told you I wouldn’t try anything, I’m so fucking sorry. That - I can’t believe I did that. Fuck.”
“Jack, stop,” he was sitting up, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. The heat in you died when you saw him so upset. “Jack, look at me.”
“I’m sorry - ”
“Stop apologizing,” you pushed him flat onto his back, swinging a leg over his hips and leaning over him. Your hair created a curtain, closing the two of you into a little bubble.
“But I - ”
“Shut up!”
And then you kissed him. He froze for a moment, but he quickly melted into you, his hands coming up to grab your waist. He let you lead for a moment, his lips following the slow, languid rhythm you set.
Until your tongue swiped over the seam of his lips. Then, his hold on you tightened and with a firm buck of his hips, he was rolling you onto your back. He settled between your legs, grinding his length against you as his tongue stroked against yours, licking into your mouth and swallowing the noises that leaked out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you.
“Fuck,” Jack pulled back, gasping for air. His forehead rested against yours. “Are you sure - ”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” you bucked your hips up against his, tugging on his hair as you did. He groaned, meeting your thrust. “Wanted this for a long time.”
“I thought you hated me,” Jack’s hand was slipping back underneath your sweatshirt to push it up. His thumb dragged over your newly exposed pebbled nipple.
“Yeah, I did,” your back arched, pushing your chest even further into his hand. “Doesn’t mean you’re not hot, though.”
“Yeah?” He was smirking, his lips ghosting over yours. “I’m just that irresistible?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you pressed your lips against his, drawing him into a filthy kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him back down so you could chase your own pleasure with his body. One of your hands slipped under his shirt, dragging your nails down over his chest and abs.
He moaned, grabbing your hand on his chest and pinning it to the mattress beside your head. He broke the kiss, nipping at your lower lip as he went.
“Unless you want this to end way too soon, you better fucking stop that,” his voice was low and ragged, fingers flexing against your wrist.
“Stop what?” You wanted to both know exactly what was driving him crazy, and to play dumb and rile him up.
“Touching me,” he ducked his head, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck. “Looking so fucking good underneath me, all of it.”
“See,” you bit back a whimper. “I don’t think you really want me to stop.”
Your back arched and your hips bucked up again as he sucked a dark mark into the skin below your jaw.
“I don’t, but I don’t want to cum in my pants, either,” he moved lower, to a new, unblemished patch of skin. “So either take your pants off or tell me to go take a cold shower.”
“Gotta let go of my hand first,” your teeth dug into your lower lip as he licked a stripe up your neck.
“Are you gonna keep it to yourself?” Jack pulled back to look down at you. You grinned back up at him and he rolled his eyes.
“No.”
He laughed, releasing you and sitting back on his knees between your spread thighs. His hands came down to the drawstring, undoing the bow at lightning speed, pushing the pants down your hips. Jack groaned as your shorts came back into view.
“These little fucking shorts,” he stripped the pants off you, lifting your legs into the air as he did. “Made me hard earlier.”
His hand trailed over your hip, brushing across the fabric until he was stroking a finger over your covered slit. Your teeth bit into your lip even harder to smother the whine that he was drawing out of you.
“You’re fucking soaked,” that little smile tugging at his lips was smug and self satisfied. He pressed into you a little harder, circling your covered clit through the spandex. “Is this all for me?”
“You’re an ass,” your teeth were gritted. Every circle he made had your hips twitching up, little sparks shooting from the light touch.
“I think you like that about me,” Jack’s hand left you for just a minute, long enough for it to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts. For the second time tonight, the first with both of you fully aware, his fingers dipped below your soaking folds.
Jack leaned forward, his unoccupied hand braced against the bed by your head. His eyes fixed on yours, chest heaving as he watched every shift of your face while his hand moved. He was exploring, teasing, fingers wandering through every soaked inch of you, the tips just barely dipping into your entrance and then moving back up to circle your clit.
“Fuck,” you were panting, trying to move your hips against his hand, guiding him to the right spot. But every time his fingers found where you needed him, he’d move them away, smiling as he worked you up.
“Jack, I swear to god, I’ll - ”
“You’ll what? Hmm?” He slowed to a stop, his index and middle finger sandwiching your clit between them, pressing down to keep you from rocking into them and chasing your pleasure. “C’mon, tell me what you’ll do.”
“If you don’t make me cum in the next 2 minutes,” his cocky demeanor made you want to simultaneously punch him and kiss him. You hated it, but it fueled the heat and desire curling low in your stomach. Judging from the hard length of him you can just barely make out through his sweats, he was enjoying it, too. “I’ll never let you touch me again.”
His face fell, hardening into determination. “Is that so?”
“Yes - ”
Jack’s fingers pressed directly against your clit, rapidly drawing tight circles around your clit. It was like an electric shock to your body after so much of his teasing. Your back arched, eyes falling shut as your moans filled the air.
“How’s that? Is that what you wanted?”
“Shut - fuck - shut up!”
You were impossibly close, already wound so tightly that you were dangerously close to snapping beneath him.
“I thought you liked it when I was a dick?” Jack leaned even farther over you, his lips closing around your nipple, flicking the bud with his tongue and scraping over it with his teeth.
“Stop fucking talking, Jack!” You felt him laugh against your skin, sending vibrations through your breast.
Your hand tangled in his hair, yanking at the strands. He groaned, switching to your other breast and sucking hard.
You cracked, thighs trying to snap closed around his hand and hips. He didn’t let you, pushing his body even farther into yours to keep them open as he worked you through it. Your legs shook and your hips jerked against his fingers that were still going, drawing even more tremors and cries out of your lips.
You writhed beneath him, forced to let each wave crash over you as Jack held you through it.
“Fuck - no more,” it was nearly impossible to get air into your lungs, but as the sensations died down and overstimulation, Jack backed off.
He pushed back up, easing his hand out of your shorts. He let you breath for a moment, his hands rubbing over your thighs until their trembling slowed to a stop.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” your voice was breathy.
“Can I fuck you now?”
You cracked your eyes open to look at Jack. There was a small wet patch on his sweats, right over the head of his cock. Fuck, he looked long and thick.
“Yes, please,” your hands found the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down.
Jack laughed, his hands joining yours to help remove the shorts from your legs.
“I should have made you cum 3 years ago,” he threw the shorts over his shoulder once he got them free from your ankles. “So nice and polite.”
“Shut up and get naked, asshole,” you sat up, reaching for his sweats, tugging them down his hips.
Suddenly, you were face to face with his cock. He was bigger than you though. The flushed length of his cock slapped against his stomach when it was freed, the leaking head smearing clear fluid against his abs.
You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned forward, licking a stripe up the length from base to tip. The skin was smooth and soft, his cock twitching beneath your touch.
“Fuck!” Jack’s hand grabbed your hair, pulled your head back and away from him as he hissed. “Don’t do that. You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Isn’t that the goal of sex?” You smiled up at him, straining against the hold he had on you to try and get your tongue back on him.
“Yeah, but I’m trying not to embarrass myself and end this way too soon,” Jack guided you by your hair, easing you down onto your back again. “You can blow me later, right now, I think I might die if I don’t get inside you.”
“Then hurry up,” you lifted your legs, hooking them around his waist and pulling him down onto you.
“Alright, alright,” Jack slipped a hand between your bodies, grabbing himself by the base. You forced yourself to breathe as his tip swiped through your folds, coating his cock in your fluids before he was lining himself up. He pressed in slowly. You felt yourself part around him, your walls stretching around the crown of his head. You were impossibly full, and he was barely in you.
He kept pushing in, both of you panting and looking down, eyes locked on where you were joined. You didn’t think you could take anymore, but he kept going, your walls sucking him in and pulling him into your depths.
“Fuck,” your head dropped back when he bottomed out. He ground forward, staying fully seated inside you and letting you adjust.
“Oh shit,” Jack sat up between your legs, hands gripping your hips, keeping them pressed fully against his. The shift in angle had you keening. “Look at that.”
Your eyes cracked open, trying to figure out what he was talking about.
“Can fucking see myself, holy shit,” one of his hands left your hips, tracing around the very visible sight of his cock outlined in your lower stomach. You were transfixed, watching with bated breath as his fingertips brushed against your skin. Goosebumps broke out across your body at the sensation.
“I wonder…” Jack trailed off, eyes still focused on your stomach. His hand moved, gently laying over the outline of his cock. He let it sit there for just a moment, palming his length through your skin.
And then he pushed down.
Both of you cried out at once. You’d already felt full, but the added pressure of his hand made his length feel even bigger. He was everywhere, completely consuming you from the inside out.
“Holy fuck!” His hips jerked into you, snapping against a spot deep inside you that had you arching in his hold.
“Oh fuck, Jack!”
“Yeah? You feel that?” Jack started moving, his hips withdrawing and punching back into you, rapidly working his way up to a punishing pace. You couldn’t answer with words. He was pushing the breath out of your lungs with every thrust. “God, you’re so full of me, baby.”
And then Jack hiked your legs up over his shoulders, releasing the pressure on your stomach in exchange for keeping your thighs pressed tight to his chest. It opened you up even more to him.
“Oh my god,” Jack bent forward, burying his face back in your neck, pushing your legs into your chest, folding you in half. He was rutting into you, groaning as he chased his pleasure.
You were getting close again, too. Every thrust had the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock grinding over your clit as his tip slammed home against your g-spot. Your eyes were closed, lost in the pleasure. You couldn’t move, completely pinned beneath him and forced to take the overwhelming pleasure.
“Jack! Please!” Your hand tangled in his hair again, holding the strands tightly. It was your only lifeline and you used it to tether yourself to reality.
“Oh fuck,” Jack was panting into the skin of your shoulder. “Fuck, I’m close. C’mon, cum for me. Please, need to feel you.”
You were so close, only a hair's breadth from your peak.
When Jack bit down on your shoulder and his hips stuttered, you came again. You clamped around him, walls spasming and squeezing while he rutted even deeper into you. Jack was groaning your name while he spilled deep inside of you. The hot pusles of his release propelled your own, the two of you pushing each other even higher.
He finally let go of your legs, helping to ease them down until they were resting on the mattress on either side of his hips. He didn’t move to pull out, though. The two of you stayed wrapped around each other, his softening length buried inside you, until the cold was too much to bear.
“So,” Jack gingerly climbed off of you, the cold air rushing in. “Can I take you on a real date now?”
“If you get me a washcloth to clean up with and get the fire started, I’ll marry you as soon as we get out of here,” you were shivering now.
Jack grinned, leaning back down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Promise?”
another little note: I'm trying out a new reader insert format. usually, I just keep it vague and don't use any form of y/n, but we're gonna do something a little different. my dear friend @fangirl-dot-com asked her followers how they felt about y/n and y/l/n, and someone in the comments said they prefer [name] and [surname] and I like that. its not really used here very much, but I wanted to give it a try. lmk if you hate it but, like, I like it so ill probably keep using it. unless all of you hate it
do u think sammy would like being called "bunny"?? i feel like he would be a little confused at first, but he's sooo bunny adjacent (coming from your zootopia post LOL)
hehehe YES. that's officer bunny to you!
the first time it happens is when sammy's laying on your chest, and you have his face in your hands. he leans his head into one of your palms, and lets his eyes flutter shut, nose twitching. you can't help but coo, "baby, you look just like a bunny right now!"
his eyes fly open and he's stuttering: "d-do i? what? babe, no, i'm a grown man..." he's trying sooo hard to beat the allegations, but his words come out a little smushed from where his chubby cheeks are pressed into your hands.
and when you start petting his hair and you whisper, "do you like this, bunny?" sammy's a goner. he breathes out a pitiful "yeah..." and melts into your touch <3
pope cody and his weird girlfriend (match made in heaven)
• no one in the family knows how the two of you met, or when either of you got together, you just kinda showed up one day and didn’t leave…
• you hardly ever smiled, unless it was to pope (who you lovingly called andrew) and even then it was tiny smiles.
• everytime craig or baz would try and mess around with you, all they’d get back was a big eyed stare that would creep them out and they’d back off (pope secretly thinks it’s funny)
• one day craig and deran came home to the two of you taking over the living room. pope was sitting on the couch, nature documentary on, and you were sat on the floor between his feet. a gathering of tools sat neatly around you on the coffee table as you held a dead butterfly, carefully pinning its wings to some styrofoam
“what the fuck is that?” craig furrowed his brow as he came over, looking down over your shoulder at what you were doing. “entomology.” pope muttered, glancing down to see you hyper focused on pinning the orange insect down. craig looked even more confused, looking for deran but not finding him anywhere.
“bug taxidermy.” you said monotonously, taking pins between your fingers and pressing the sharp edge down into the pieces of parchment you had covered the wings with. “found her in the flower bed.”
“uh… nice.” craig rushed out of the living room and went to hide with deran.
• pope and his weird girlfriend that communicate through looks and grunts, no words spoken between them whatsoever some days
• the two of you don’t really sleep… up at odd hours of the night… sometimes just wondering around in the dark… you often scare the other members of the house if they are up only to see you, or pope, or the both of you just standing there (you think it’s funny)
• you also have ocd just like your boyfriend, things have to be a certain way… your way. and sometimes that leads to you and pope having little arguments about how things should be placed/ how things should be done, but your little spats never last long
• craig and deran had stopped by your house exactly one time looking for pope bc they hadn’t seen him in days and wanted to make sure he was still alive…. let’s just say they never came back after seeing creepy taxidermy animals all over the place (it didn’t help that you were brushing your raccoon lamp, its beady little eyes staring right into their souls)
• you often like to scare baz bc he’s an absolute dickhead to women and his own daughter,, so sometimes you just randomly show up at his house (he doesn’t even know how you got his address), creepily sit in the corner of lena’s room while she plays and stare at him, or come up behind him when he’s least expecting it, or just saying some odd shit to weird him out
• craig and deran like you surprisingly, you remind them so much of their older brother in certain aspects and they think the two of you are a match made in… they don’t know where, not heaven or hell, perhaps somewhere in between… baz doesn’t like you too much (and part of it’s bc he can’t charm you like he can with other women) plus he thinks your creepy. j knows to keep his distance, but whenever nicky’s around she thinks you’re odd, but cool
• pope and his weird girlfriend that like to sleep naked sometimes and not for any sexual reasons (well only sometimes lol) but for skin to skin contact, wanting to be as close together as possible (you want to be so close to him that you nearly constrict around him like a snake and your nails dig into his back but he doesn’t mind)
• the other family members often find the two of you just staring at one another. like a silent conversation was flowing between the two of you. then you’d smile, laugh softly like he had said something funny (the others are soooo confused by your dynamic)
• pope and his weird girlfriend that shockingly go crazy in the bedroom since they’re so quiet and monotone everywhere else,,, craig had only found out when he went snooping in their room only to find a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs stuffed in a drawer next to their bed and was like ‘??? what the fuck???’ and ran to tell deran who didn’t want to hear a thing about it
• you have a thing with bugs and other sorts of creepy crawlies. you will catch every single moth that flies into the house, attracted by the light over the island in the kitchen, pope will even lift you so you can grab them and put them back outside. you obviously don’t care to pick up dead bugs. you tease pope sometimes with the worms you pick up from the flower beds.
you once came up behind craig, saying ‘i have something for you’ only for him to nearly jump a hundred feet in the air when he seen the giant wolf spider that took over your whole palm. you gave him a little smirk as he flipped out, finding it hilarious
sammy bryant the type of guy to want to dress up as nick wilde and judy hopps from zootopia for halloween. i'll do it... but only if he's judy. he's the cop, after all, it just makes more sense! and he has that twitchy little nose. put on the ears bunny boy 😛
Summary: If Jenny was it for David, what were you doing, making him feel special at a party?
Pairing: david klein (tangled 2001) x fem!reader
Contains: meetcute, fluff, implication of sex (no smut), both in college!, barely follows tangled plot canon, reader described as somewhat feminine, no use of y/n
Word Count: 4.3k
Note: barely proofread... this is just a self-indulgent hatosypilled pleasure write lolll hope u enjoy if anyone finds this
Like any other Friday night, David followed Jenny to a party.
A recent development of hers was joining the college radio. She wasn’t really into music, at least not like that. Some guy she was seeing supposedly invited them, Gus or something. Jenny took extra time getting ready for some reason. She insisted that it wasn’t a date (hence David’s presence), but David was immediately forgotten when they entered the small apartment.
From the corner of the room, the stereo played some Smashing Pumpkins song he didn’t recognize. The living room was coated in posters, dark cushions, and dim lamps. Everyone fairly had the same look to them— band t-shirt, dyed hair, the eternally-high look. They all seemed to know each other, though still somewhat divided.
At this point, David kinda felt pathetic. He didn’t know Jenny for too long, yet he was harbouring some kind of crush on her— the first girl to actually pay him any attention that year. He figured she’d like him too, but it was guy after guy that “wasn’t good enough” for her and he was there to pick up the pieces.
Standing awkwardly in the kitchen, David had shrugged his way through swaying bodies to end up nursing a sweaty beer. He was leaning against the counter, trying to mind his own business, when you came stomping in.
The front door swung open and your heeled feet toed into the apartment. You were sinking in a long, thick coat and your legs were covered in colored tights. He watched as you rubbed your nose from the outside chill.
Someone across the room had yelled what David assumed was your name when you shut the door behind you. They raised their Solo cup at you and you rolled your eyes. Reaching into your coat, you handed them a CD, saying something about the bootleggers on Alvarado. They responded with a quick thanks as you slipped your coat off and laid it on the arm of the couch they were sitting on.
You were wearing a little dress with puffy fabric that moved with you through the party. You were greeting most everyone with a tiny wave in their direction before making your way to the kitchen.
David went stiff when you squeezed by him with a small “Sorry, ‘scuse me.” Your hand ghosted over his shoulder blade when you passed, headed for the kitchen.
He heard you rummage through the fridge, searching for a drink. He was awkward just standing there, but where else would he go? With a crack and a fizz, he saw you in the corner of his eye, partially chugging a Diet Coke.
When you lowered the can from your face, you furrowed your eyebrows at him with a small burp and the wipe of your mouth. You moved to the counter beside David, where the bottles of liquor sat. Grabbing one, you twisted off the lid as your eyes flickered up to him.
“I don’t know you.” You stated, voice absolutely neutral.
He went stiff at the sound of your voice, unsure what he was supposed to say or even if he was meant to respond. His face was turned to you, but his head couldn’t be more vacant.
You delicately poured the rum into the tiny opening of the can as you asked, “Who do you know here?”
“Oh, uh…” He looked around, spotting Jenny sucking face with Gus in the corner. You followed his gaze. “Jenny.”
Turning back, you saw the sullen look on his face as you chuckled, “Ah.” You met her at the last meeting, not really forming any kind of opinion— other than noticing her attachment to Gus.
Your eyes scanned David’s figure. He was still stiff, and his beer looked like it was just an accessory. Taking a sip of your own concoction, you watched as he turned back to you.
Offering a smile, you asked, “What’s your name?”
“David,” He said quietly, “uh, Klein.”
You shared yours, first name only, although he already picked it up from earlier. He mirrored you, taking a sip of his own drink when you did yours.
The two of you shared quiet conversation, your majors, your hometowns, why you were here. You were more chatty than he was, his back still stiff against the counter. He was cute, you gathered. You watched the crease between his eyebrows and the dimple on his cheek shift when he chuckled at something you said. Why he and his boy next door face came with Jenny was beyond you.
With a sigh and a drop of your now-empty can, you looked at him, “Well, David Klein, you look like you need a smoke.”
Before he could protest, you nudged your head to the living room, where there was a wide open window. Moving over, his body followed yours like his brain had no say.
Grabbing your coat from the edge of the couch, you slipped it on and led him onto the roof. He was hesitant, boots slowly rising their way up to the window sill. You grabbed his hand in the process. He was sweating. You squeezed his palm in your fingers as you moved along the roof, finding the proper flat part to comfortably sit on.
It took a moment for him to sit after you did. He was unsurely peering down the side of the building.
“S’not that high.” You said, tapping the flat concrete of the roof beside you.
“I know…” He rolled his eyes playfully as he took his seat beside you.
You shifted in your place, finding comfort in your coat, before reaching into your inside pocket. After some shuffling, you had a tin and a lighter in hand. Bewildered, David watched you open it, which was filled with Carnelian and a few cigarettes. Two of them were handrolled, which confused him.
He watched as you placed one in between your dry lips. The light pollution of the city was just enough to make out your face. His hazel eyes stayed wide, like this was a magic trick he’d never seen before.
Against the dark sky, you flickered on your lighter. It was one of those cheap Bic ones, but you had bedazzled yours for some reason, which only intrigued David more. The gems glowed with the spark, against your painted nails and cold fingers.
He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he watched you. His eyes were so doe and so sweet, especially twinkling against the flame.
David’s nose crinkled after you had blown a puff.
“Does not smell like tobacco.” He said, shaking his head.
“Oh,” your shoulders dropped as your eyes widened, “should’ve told me you don’t smoke weed. Shit, sorry, David.”
You reached to put it out, but he stopped your wrist with his hand. He had a dumbfounded and embarrassed look on his face, mouth agape and cheeks pink.
“No, it’s okay. I just… Never smoked weed before.” He shrugged shyly.
“Oh,” you repeated, but this time more fascinated. Your eyebrows raised playfully as a smile danced on your lips, “That’s why you look like that.”
“Look like what?” His voice cracked as he smiled, nudging your arm with his elbow.
You rolled your eyes, handing the joint to him. He took it from you delicately, examining it in his fingers before taking it to his lips and inhaling. After a sharp breath, he removed the joint from his mouth but didn’t exhale.
“David, don’t hold it!” You laughed, taking the joint from him.
His eyes went wide before he exhaled, a few heavy coughs following. Holding his chest, he leaned back on the concrete as he looked at you.
“Jesus,” You rolled your eyes, taking a puff yourself.
Your conversation from earlier just translated to the outside in between vacant eyes and random giggles. He told you about his family, his crazy freshman year roommate, his friends from home. You told him about weird kids from your high school, your interesting history professor, and your favourite spot on campus.
“You’re really cool, David.” You said honestly, letting your eyes glaze over his dark denim and solid-colored clothes.
He let out that disbelieving guffaw— the one he’d given every time you said some wild statement, “Yeah, right.”
“You don’t believe me?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not cool, okay? I’m just like…” Staring at the city in the distance, he spaced off. You watched his face soften as the lights surfaced over his freckled skin. Turning back to you with his calm hazel eyes, he grinned, “I’m just me.”
“And you’re really fucking cool.” You smiled, nudging his arm.
Filter long forgotten, two hours had passed of warmth and laughs. The party didn’t seem to wind down either, music bumping a fast BPM through the window.
Somewhere throughout the night, you leaned into each other, his arm resting against yours as you looked out into the town. He had been staring at you, thinking how it was possible you came in to save him amongst Jenny’s drama.
You were beautiful too, skin glowing against the moonlight and eyes shimmering like glitter. Looking off into the distance, the softness of your face only made David wonder. You caught his eye, a soft breeze blowing a strand of hair into your face.
Pursing your lips, you grinned at him as his eyes twinkled. His face was once again dumb, bottom lip hanging like he only knew to breathe. His doe eyes sparkled at you and the freckles on his face made him look even sweeter. You were having a moment, or at least David thought you were.
Then, you spoke again, “You like her, don’t you?”
“Who?” He whispered, still staring like he couldn’t think of anything but your eyes.
“Jenny.”
“What?” Stunned, he sat back, arm suddenly missing yours. “No.”
Unconvinced, you raised an eyebrow.
“Or…” He quirked his face in a weird way, as if his dilated pupils weren’t enough of a tell. “I did.” He scooted back, resting the small of his back against the roof’s ledge with a sigh, “Then, she started going out with all these douchebags, and… She was just playing with me, you know? I was just, like, her consolation prize or something.”
Your eyes widened when he said that, a slow, understanding nod in his direction.
“I thought I liked her, but…”
“But.” You repeated, like you were solving a puzzle.
It was like he lost his breath when he looked at you again. His chest felt light, puffing towards you. Your eyes stayed patient against the starlit sky, letting him find his words.
“Now, I’m not so sure.” David whispered breathlessly. His eyes scattered over your face, searching for the next move.
You placed a cold hand on his cheek, which you could feel was burning up under your touch. He felt himself lean in first, as if tugged by a string. His eyes looked at your lips, like he was unsure if they were there. A grin crept on your face as his body shifted towards yours.
He stalled in front of you, body ghosting over yours. His hand had found your thigh on instinct. With a huff, you leaned your face in, taking his lips against yours.
It was too sweet, the cushion of his mouth against yours and the warmth of his face in your hands. You gulped down the taste of him as his hands found your own face. He pulled away, forehead hanging off of yours.
“You’re not just kissing me ‘cause you feel bad for me, right?” His question made you laugh under your breath. “Or ‘cause you’re high?”
“Oh, David Klein,” you shook your head with a giggle.
You pulled his face back to yours and kissed him again. He followed with a giddy chuckle. Your fingers found the hair on the back of his head, pulling him into you with a sigh. His lips moved slowly against yours, like he was savouring each taste. He was soft and gentle, mouth changing forms only when given permission.
When he pulled away, David smiled and whispered to himself, “Nice.”
“What?” You laughed into his breath. He shook his head, taking you into another kiss.
The night had eventually taken you off the roof and through the apartment. With a half-hearted goodbye and David hanging on your arm, you waved to your friends and pulled him through the front door with a giggle.
On the off chance that Jenny wasn’t all over Gus, she saw David helplessly following you out the door. His eyes had zeroed in on you and he had this stupid, goofy look on his face— one she’d never seen before. Huh.
Walking down the street, you and David were singing half-correct lyrics to a song you were trying to name at the peak of your high. His hand had slipped into yours protectively as you stumbled to his house. The wide smile on his face, pushing his cheeks plump, was calling for a kiss.
On the sidewalk, you pulled him into you, bodies bumping clumsily. He suddenly went quiet, his teeth peeking out under his lips. His eyes crinkled giddily as you clutched onto the sides of his jacket.
This time, he leaned down, catching your lips in his. He tasted the sweet sting of your plumping lip gloss that he caught you applying on the way out of the apartment building. The corners of his lip stayed upturned as his hands slipped to your waist. You melted into him and the faint whisper of beer that lingered on his breath.
Leaning away, David still had that stupid, starry-eyed look on his face. He stared at you for a second, hands still and eyes slowly blinking.
“What?” You smiled.
He bit down on his lip before speaking, “When I kiss you, my lips get all tingly.”
You laughed and shook your head, “My lip gloss—”
“It kinda hurts!” He giggled.
Just a short moment later, you stumbled into his duplex, tangled in his arms. The high had been wavering but the buzz of your touch gave a stronger effect to David. Addiction and thrill ran through him as his hands found stability on your waist.
“Are you a shoes off house?” You asked, stuck to the entryway as you slipped off your heels.
“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, a soft chuckle making its way out.
You shook your head and shrugged, “Guess not. You’re the type to get into bed with shoes on.”
“Huh—”
You took him into a quick kiss, “Don’t worry, we can fix that.”
Breathlessly, “Okay,” David hummed at you with a shrug. He would’ve done anything you asked at that moment, really. With a deep kiss, he engulfed you in his arms as your hands found his biceps. He sighed into your lips with relief and excitement, attempting to get closer to you.
Lips wet and swollen, he led you up the stairs.
You stayed the night, between whispers and delicate touches. Wrapped up in his sheets, you listened to David as he mumbled sweet little nothings to you. Fingers pressing on your hairline, he brushed little strands out of your face.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. “I really like you.”
“So far.” You mumbled, a half-joke on your tongue. He ignored it, reaching his arm to grab at your waist. He pulled you closer, finding skin against skin.
You felt yourself drift. Your fingers reached for his hand, intertwining in yours before everything turned fuzzy. David kissed the top of your head, holding you close as you fell asleep in his arms.
The weeks following were all so similar. Hands entwined, you’d walk to class together, splitting your earbuds to listen to music on your iPod. You’d talk about nonsense together, everything and nothing from gossip to books you’d swap and their social commentary. Sitting in the dining hall or library, you’d study together in silence, hands grazing each others’ under the table.
You took him to parties, drinking and smoking together on rooftops and balconies. He’d flick your bedazzled lighter on for you, holding eye contact as the end of your joint lit up. Eyes soft as always, his brain raced with all the ways you made his heart do the same. In between kisses and warm touches, you’d share puffs and secrets.
Leaning against the railing, David was looking off into the town— something you always found him doing while high. You rested your chin on his shoulder and your arm pressed around his middle.
“What’s on your mind, David Klein?” You spoke dreamily before kissing his cheekbone.
He turned to you, eyes droopy, as he slipped his arms around you. He pulled you closer to him, resting his head against yours.
“I’ve never been this happy,” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.
“I see you and Mary Jane are getting along.” You chuckled, combing your fingers through his hair.
David let you joke, but in reality, he’d never been seen the way you saw him. He was never interesting or the first one anyone really looked at. He thought he’d always be the guy who came after, cleaning up broken pieces, but you… you came and showed him he didn’t have to. He always thought he’d just know when he’d fallen in love, but you creeped in behind the red herring.
David stuck to you like no other, remembering small details you’d only mentioned in passing, taking care of you with breakfast or remembering your coffee order, staying in your apartment or his most nights. It was both thrilling and comforting, the constant presence but also the excitement of this new experience.
From outside the lecture hall window, David saw you jumping up and down, flailing your arms in the air. He was in a statistics lecture, something about interpreting certain graphs he couldn’t wrap his head around. You knew his schedule, having followed him around campus the past three months.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he raised his hands in a What? way with a smile on his face. You waved for him to come down. He shook his head, gesturing to the professor. Insistent, you waved again and he rolled his eyes.
Five minutes later, David found himself galloping out the building doors to you, sitting exactly where he first saw you. You were among the trees and the leaves, autumn colours complementing the warm smile on your face.
Jacket in hand and backpack slung over his shoulder, he approached you, “What? I was in class.” As his boots landed in front of you, you lifted your arms up. His hands met yours, pulling you up from the ground and in front of him.
“Is it important?” You raised your eyebrows at him, dusting off your jeans from specks of broken leaves.
“Well,” he shrugged, slightly intrigued as he slipped his jacket on, “Not really?”
“Okay, let’s go!” You gripped one of his hands, starting to run off. David only slowed you down, initially following and then realizing he was confused.
“Where are we going?”
“C’mon I wanna show you something.” You said, tugging on his arm to continue pulling him away.
Like little kids, you and David stumbled hand-in-hand down the tree-lined walkway, nearly jostling every other student that you passed. The air was nice and brisk as you rushed through, shoes scuffing at the concrete pavement. Overhead, the clouds had formed a bright white canopy, lighting your way.
A few streets from the campus, you eventually reached a park, but a short steel fence blocked the way. David stopped beside you, hand still lingering in yours. With a devilish grin, you nudged your head at it.
“Is this illegal?” He asked, which made you snort.
“Not everything I do is illegal, David.” You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “And it’s not. Not technically, anyway. The park belongs to the city, we are the city, therefore the park is ours.”
“Long range of thinking.” He raised an eyebrow as you lunged towards the fence.
You started climbing, then turned to look at him. He had his hands in his pockets, unmoving from his spot with a quizzically mocking grin on his face.
“You’re not gonna make me do this alone, are you, David Klein?”
Not waiting for an answer, you pulled yourself over, landing on your feet. After a second, you saw the top of his ginger hair peer over the fence. He looked at you before deciding any moves.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” You joked, “If I wanted to, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”
Scoffing, he pulled himself over as well, landing in front of you.
When he turned, he faced a rose garden. It was bushlets of different colours, yellow, red, pink, white. They were all so prominent against the overcast sky. The bushes circled a little white gazebo just a few yards from you.
Grabbing David’s hand, you ran around the garden through the aisles, cool air coating your cheeks. You released his hand, hiding behind leaves and flowers while prompting a game of chase. He laughed as he jogged after you through the garden. Everything was so adorable and disgustingly romantic.
The sound of thunder brewed overhead, the sky still threateningly white. You and David stopped running, looking at each other with quirked brows. Within a blink, rain started falling down onto you.
“Shit!”
Quickly, David pulled his jacket over both of your heads. You huddled close to him as you headed for the gazebo in the middle of the garden. Under the safety of the awning, he slipped his jacket back on himself while you hugged your own closer. Hair soaked and giggling, you shook pebbles of rainwater off your shoulders.
David neared you, tucking your hair behind your ear, with a smile on his face. His own hair was sopping, a curl falling over his temple.
“Sorry,” you shook your head insincerely, a smile glowing on your face, “Should’ve checked the forecast.”
“Really, you think?” He teased, eyebrow raised as he drew you closer to him.
The rain rushed around the gazebo as he wrapped his arm around your lower back. Wet cheeks and a grin on his face, he took your face in his other hand. You stared up at him like time had stopped. Hands surfacing the edges of his jacket, you pulled him towards you.
You felt the heat of his breath on your face as his hand gripped your side. His nose lingered over yours for a moment. Eyes serious, he swept your face up to him, enveloping his lips into yours. Cold and rain-stained, you didn’t mind, pressing yourself closer to him as you kissed him.
A while ago, You had mentioned the college radio station to David, but he remembered how you gushed over your show, which was in the later hours in the evening. So, he sat by his little dining table as he listened, the last song currently fading out.
He beamed as he heard your voice, “The night is winding down, and I just wanted to play one last song for you all.”
He heard the smile in your voice through his stereo, which only made him feel warmer.
“I’ve been,” a sigh and a chuckle crinkled through the static, “experiencing some things lately… All good things!” You nervously, unpreparedly rambled away, “I think this next song is almost, kinda like it, though I don’t think there are any songs adequate enough to explain my current events… Anyway, you all know it. This is ‘Just Like Heaven’ by The Cure.”
From the studio, you immediately darted over to David’s house, as you promised. His roommate answered the door, but you pushed past him with a detached Hey, Lewis and darted for David’s room up the stairs.
You opened the door open, and David had been laying in bed with a smile plastered on his face. He glanced over at you as you walked towards him, slipping off your sneakers. He sat up, letting you crawl in next to him.
You rested your hands on his knees, eyes wide as you looked at his face, “Did you listen?”
He nodded with crinkled eyes and that dimple imprinting his left cheek. Tenderly, his hands found yours. He was so warm and delicate, eyes like honey and loose curls pushed from his face. You felt all mushy with him, sugary and saccharine, almost embarrassed.
Though, he had been thinking of you the same way, watching the grin on your face, how you bashfully avoided eye contact when his hands met your skin. He ran his fingers over your knuckles, mindlessly feeling at the ridges between them.
“How did you know I liked The Cure?” He tried catching your gaze.
“Everyone likes The Cure,” you joked, picking up his hand and kissing the back of it, “And you have a billion of their CDs… And they’re on every mixtape you give me.”
Peeking up at him, you smiled while your lips danced over the back of his knuckles. You hid behind his hand as his face softened. His hand left yours and found the side of your jaw pulling you towards him.
David kissed you, like he really meant it. His lips eased into yours like syrup over a fresh set of pancakes, or the feeling of new sheets on your skin, or a breeze catching you on a warm day, or the morning greeting you gently without the hassle of alarms. It was so cliche, it was everything. The soft, devastating sweetness of his lips mingled with the comfort of your warmth— you had never kissed like this before, and if you didn’t savour it, you feared you never will again.
was listening to this and thought about andrew who literally can’t pull himself away from your pussy. (Nsfw)
the noises you’re making, his brothers’ might aswell think he’s killing you. Your fingernails nearly tearing the sheets, he doesn’t even know how good he is at this. Just lapping at your cunt like you were his first good meal straight out of prison.
“baby- ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry… it’s jus’ so good, please? Yeah?” he can’t stop.
Andrew doesn’t know why. He never did drugs, never had that kind of euphoria after a hit. But with his head between your thighs? He’d be willing to bet that it’d be the exact same kind.
Your taste lingers on his tongue and even when you’re about to pass out, he keeps going ‘n going. There’s even a damp spot on the edge of the bed from where his hips were rutting. He was so, so fucking close.
It was pathetic… Really, really pathetic. But you? You thought it was the hottest thing to grace this earth.
andrew cody who inspects your pussy after having sex
He’s just so fascinated. He did this to you, he ruined you like this. Watching his cum ooze out of your abused cunt, he’s laser focused. Your sides all bruised w/ his handprints.
he was clinging onto you the entire time, groaning and whining about how good you felt. How tight, how perfect you squeezed his cock. His eyes glued to the space between you as he slammed in ‘n out.
he genuinely can’t believe you let him do this to you.
his fingers would spread your folds apart, looking at your fluttering hole in awe while you lay above him all sweaty ‘n disheveled.
its genuinely a fucking sight.
a/n i dont know what got into me somebody probably wrote this before but idk.
Thinking about how the Cody boys notice the new girl at one of their parties. and they all try their charms on you.
Baz is first, offering to get you a drink. You shake your head. Not interested. You're not stupid, know he has a girlfriend. You have no interest in being the other woman.
Craig tries to impress you by jumping off the roof and into the pool. You frown as his entrance causes the pool water to splash onto your new bikini. You just roll you eyes and smooth your hair down.
Even J tries. He's way too young for you. Still got his baby face.
The boys are confused. This has never happened before. All of them getting turned down. How the fuck did this pretty little thing even know to come to the party if you're not trying to hook up with one of them.
They watch from the kitchen as you finally stand up from the sun lounger. Watch the soft bounce of your breasts against your bikini as you walk into the house. You suck in your lower lip before your whole face lights up. You all but run into the den where the eldest Cody boy is sitting nursing a whiskey.
Pope's arm is stretched across the back of the couch. You curl your whole body into him, pulling your feet under you as you cuddle into him. You stretch up to kiss him before resting your head on his chest. His hand moves then to wrap around you, slowly dragging his fingers up and down your arm.
The brother who Baz had snarled that no one would have a kid with. The brother they all thought was just a bit off-kilter. The brother they all thought would never get a woman to dote on him.
Well here he sits with the girl they all want draped around him.
hatosy nation helppp i swear i saw a jack abbot portal pussy fic or blur or something a few weeks ago and i saved it for later but now i can’t find it pls help 🙏
non-apocalyptic world where everything's alright and there's no nasty walkers around. where daryl lives in a little creaky cabin with his younger, sweetheart girlfriend in the middle of nowhere ngghhh.
you wake up before him almost every morning, and quietly pull one of his button-downs over your tiny pink sleep shorts before padding barefoot across the creaky floorboards to make coffee. and then he'll slowly wake up after you and go smoke a cigarette beside you through the cracked kitchen window. and its always cold in that damp woodsy way, so he'll grab a blanket or a big jacket and wrap it around you as the morning fog rolls in.
the age difference is obvious in the strangest little ways. you're always leaving old magazines and sweet lip balms all over the cabin while he leaves hunting knives on counters and muddy boots by the door. and there's always animals wandering by, like possums and deer!
and you're constantly horny, always feining over daryl in some way. you're in a tiny lace camisole while he's gutting fish, and you're just watching, rubbing your thighs at his focused expression. or maybe when he's shaving in the bathroom and you're sitting on the tiny countertop swinging your legs back and forth, tugging him closer once he's finished.
sometimes you'll be in the woods, probably barefoot, wandering with daryl and you get extremely needy out of nowhere. and he just eyes you before pushing you up against a tree and shoving your cami up above your tits and attaching his mouth to one while you wrap your legs around his waist with soft moans, only the birds and bugs able to hear.
anon!! this dynamic seems to be a hit and i can see why, it's so cutieee!! :D//
I just love the thought of pope and a polar opposite girlfriend , like just imagine them with their own cute little cottage on land they purchased. And they have a farm life 🥹 cattle and sheep and chickens, maybe even crops
(Pope yearns for the simple life I know it)
WAIT this is so cutie!! thank you for the request, lovely!! <333
i'll be honest, i don't really have the first clue about how to run a farm or take care of livestock, so this might be a bit rough LMAO
minors do not interact - 18+
cw: last three are smutty, mentions of sex, semi-public sex
❀ popey absolutely loves the house that you picked out, the cute little cottage with plenty of land that gave the ultimate feeling of privacy
❀ it took a lot of convincing for him to let you take over with watering the crops and taking care of them as the seasons changed. it wasn't that he didn't think you could do it, he just hated the thought of you getting hurt messing around on all that big equipment
❀ so while you handled the crops, he handled the animals. you two weren't necessarily raising the animals for profit, per your request. instead, you sold your crops at the local market to make extra cash. obviously, he made more than enough money to keep you both comfortable for a long time to come
❀ you were also very friendly with the neighbors. pope would always walk you to the folks next door as you hand-delivered some new dessert that you wanted to make. he always watched on with a soft smile on his face as he saw you light up when they accepted your thoughtful treats
❀ you two shared cooking duties most of the time, but he learned to back off when you scolded him for working too hard. you were fine with cooking because you liked doing it, not because you felt obligated to
let's add a lot little more spice >:3
❀ the ample land meant that you two never had to be quiet in bed. there was never anyone around to hear the way his name bounced off the walls all night long
❀ there were also countless times where you may or may not have found yourself riding him as he sat on one of the rocking chairs on the front porch
❀ if you ever asked to sit in his truck bed and watch the sunset, or go stargazing, you were never leaving it untouched or un-fucked :p
Sammy wearing his glasses while he pounds into you in missionary.
Sammy doesn’t usually like to wear his glasses. They make him feel like a dork. He hates them with a passion. That’s why he’s always wearing contacts.
But one afternoon the two of you are at home. He’s sitting on the couch, reviewing paperwork in one of those obnoxious yellow folders. You’ve been trying to drag him away from his work all night, but he just won’t budge.
So you left him to his own devices and went off to the kitchen to tidy up the rest of the dishes. He’s been looking at that case file for an hour now. It’s agitating when he doesn’t give you attention. You always drop whatever you’re doing right then and there for him. (Not that he usually doesn’t do the same) He’s just not doing it right now.
And you’re desperate for his attention. You’ve been rubbing your thighs together ever since he put those lenses on his face. So you’ve about had it.
Walking over to him and standing in between his knees while you take the file from his hands and toss it on the coffee table. He sighs and looks up at you and goes to take his glasses e but you immediately stop him, almost shrieking and swatting his hands away.
“No, no. You look so handsome with them on.”
Yell in that case… you get whatever you want. You smile as his hands drop then he leans forward to place his hands on your legs in front of him.
“Okay.” He huffs out
His heart drops, as he sees the state of you
you’ve got wide eyes, as you try and pull him up from his arm.
“Oh, bunny…” he sounds so empathetic for you because you look so desperate and pathetic with your wide eyes batting up at him
he sighs, then stands up letting you drag him to the bedroom, you’ve got him on his back and you’re pulling his belt and pants off. Kind of refreshing to be in change of him.
“h-hey… what-“
He cuts himself off and quickly. lifts his hips up for you. You’re already naked by some miracle and sliding yourself on top of him. Starting down at his glasses with a smile. He chuckles and mid-chuckle your sliding him into you and his breath hitches as his eyes widen from the surprise that is quickly changed with a groan as you move your hips up and down
Before long he’s flipping the two of you over, and fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. Loud, ungodly noises from the way his hips buck into your cunt, his hands gripping your sides to hold you in place, his glasses moving with each thrust.
He’s got his mouth close to yours as he kisses your cheek
“this okay? Yeah? You’re not uncomf-”
“I’m gonna cum… Sammy, can I cum?”
He nods quickly
“Yeah, of course bunny.”
You’re coming all over his cock. Coating his pelvis and everywhere possibly in that sticky white substance and huffing as your stomach feels utterly relieved
He rolls the two of you to the side and you curl into his chest as he runs a hand over your head, and kisses your forehead.
“I think we need to do that again.”
He quirks an eyebrow at your sentence, and you just frown
“you didn’t cum.”
he chuckles and then rolls the two of you back over…
Ugh… I got lazy towards the end… Also I didn’t proofread… yikes!! Always love you lots and lots like polka dots!!
this is soooo stepdad!jack abbot who goes camping with your family and sneaks into your tent at night cause he knows you're scared of the dark and doesn't want you to sleep alone
he invites himself into your sleeping bag and presses up close to you "for body heat, baby," promising to protect you from the wolves and bears outside while he ruts against your ass :(
his hand is clamped tight over your mouth to keep you quiet cause everyone else is sleeping!! and loud noises attract all kinds of trouble in the woods. so you should definitely let your stepdad do whatever it takes to keep you safe, including marking you with his cum so all the scary animals know you're taken <3
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