desc - after years of fighting monsters and quite literally surviving hell, steve is finally at peace; he has his coaching job, a nice little apartment, and honestly the kind of life he'd dream about whilst swinging his nail bat at a demogorgan. but, what happens when that starts to feel like not enough? - after realising first hand how very short life can be, whats stopping him from getting out there and trying to find what feels as though its missing? nothing is the answer. nothing. so, thats exactly what he does. and he finds more than he could've ever dreamed up.
val speaks - itâs been a minuteeee how r we how r we !!!!! missed u all so so much im so happy to have found the time to write smth again :)) hope u all enjoy!! ill get back to requests soon promise just wanted to see what i could come up with on my own haha
as someone who feels like they will always be searching for it i do love this one. its okay to not settle just bc its easy !! dont die wondering!!!
if its a bit funk forgive me i havent written for a while heh
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it had snuck up on him somehow.
one day he was settling into the routine of being coach harrington, and the next he was wondering how he'd managed to blink and spend years there.
he loved his job. genuinely.
he loved the kids, even when they drove him up the wall. he loved watching the quiet ones come out of their shells, loved seeing the loud ones finally figure out who they wanted to be. he loved friday games, the stupid jokes in the locker room with the kids, the awkward health class questions that somehow always ended with half the room laughing and the other half wishing the floor would swallow them whole.
teaching sex ed had definitely never been what he'd pictured himself doing, but somewhere along the line he'd realised he was actually pretty good at it. if it meant some kid walked away feeling a little less embarrassed or a little more informed, then that was enough for him.
the rest of the staff were... alright. some were better than others, naturally, but they made decent company in the break room between classes. it was comfortable. familiar.
maybe that was the problem.
because lately, steve couldn't shake the feeling that he'd stopped moving.
everyone else seemed to be going somewhere. every year another class graduated and disappeared into the world. teachers he'd started alongside were retiring or transferring to bigger schools. robin had somehow found herself exactly where she belonged, and the rest of his friends had scattered across the country, building careers, relationships, lives.
they were all growing.
moving.
and steve...
steve was still unlocking the same gym every morning.
it was strange because, for the longest time, this had been enough. hell, he'd worked hard to get here. after everything that had happened in hawkins, after monsters and nightmares and fighting things no one should've ever had to believe existed, a normal life had sounded perfect.
and it had been.
for a while.
but now, every time someone called him "coach harrington," something in him hesitated.
it didn't feel wrong.
it just... didn't feel like forever.
which was ironic, really.
if you'd asked him ten years ago what kind of job old steve harrington would have, coaching would've probably been somewhere near the top of the list. in his mind it was a very old man kind of job. stable. predictable. something you settled into after you'd figured everything else out.
except the older he actually got, the less he felt settled.
he felt stuck.
he didn't know what "it" was, the thing he was apparently supposed to be searching for, but he knew, somehow, that this wasn't it.
so he did something incredibly irresponsible.
he handed in his two weeks' notice.
no backup plan, no new job lined up, no clue what came next. just a resignation letter and a stomach full of equal parts excitement and absolute terror.
looking back, maybe it was stupid.
or maybe he'd earned one impulsive decision.
he'd spent most of his teenage years, and what should've been his college years, fighting monsters from another dimension. he'd learned, over and over again, that life could end far sooner than anyone expected. that waiting for the "right time" wasn't always an option.
so...
why not?
it wasn't like he had a wife waiting at home. no kids depending on him. no mortgage tying him down. despite the fact he complained to himself about still being painfully single more often than he'd ever admit out loud, there wasn't anything stopping him from trying.
for once, he could choose something simply because he wanted to.
when the two weeks finally came to an end, steve packed the last box out of his office, handed over his keys, and walked out of the school with no destination in mind.
he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, honestly he still had no idea, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was moving again.
and somehow, that was enough to make him believe he'd find whatever it was along the way.
-
the first thing steve did was take a road trip.
it felt right.
if he was going to quit his job on a whim with absolutely no idea what came next, then he figured the only logical thing to do was get in his beloved beamer, throw a duffel bag in the back seat, and start driving.
"setting sail" he'd proudly announced to robin over the phone.
"steve, you're in a bmw."
"metaphorically setting sail."
she'd sighed so dramatically he could practically picture her pinching the bridge of her nose.
"just... don't die."
he'd laughed, promised he'd try not to, and hung up.
truthfully, he still didn't have a destination in mind. he was just following whichever roads looked the most interesting, windows down despite the wind tangling his hair into a complete mess, music playing loud enough to drown out the part of his brain asking what the hell he thought he was doing.
he kept telling himself something would fall into his lap eventually.
he just hadn't expected it to happen quite the way it did.
a few hours into the drive, with his fuel gauge sitting at a level that could only be described as concerning, he rolled into a small town resting against the shores of lake michigan.
he'd never heard of it before.
then again, steve had never exactly excelled at geography.
he pulled into the first gas station he saw, filled the tank, and wandered inside to pay.
the poor college kid behind the till looked half asleep.
steve, for reasons he couldn't explain, was in one of those annoyingly good moods that made him want to talk to everyone.
he complimented the guy's t-shirt, asked how his day was going, somehow ended up hearing about a statistics exam he'd failed that morning, wished him luck on the retake, and left with a bottle of water and enough enthusiasm to probably make the guy question his sanity.
after that he drove around until he found a motel.
it wasn't nice, it wasn't clean, but it was cheap, and at this point that felt like a more important quality.
he dumped his bag in the room, stared at the floral wallpaper that looked older than he was, decided he'd survived worse accommodations than this, and headed back outside.
he walked. and walked. and walked some more.
every shop he passed, he went into. every building with an open sign became another excuse to wander inside.
he wasn't looking for anything specific.
just... something.
whatever something was.
he ended up buying a book from a tiny bookstore despite the fact he didn't actually read books.
he wasn't entirely sure why he'd bought it. the owner had seemed nice, that was about as much reasoning as he'd managed.
after another hour or so of aimless wandering, he found himself standing outside a small local museum.
normally he would've kept walking.
museums weren't exactly his thing. they ranked somewhere between watching paint dry and listening to ted explain the rules of chess for fun.
but today was supposed to be about trying new things.
so he shrugged and stepped inside.
turns out...
it was pretty boring.
there were old photographs, faded maps, model boats, actual boat parts, and enough information about shipping routes to make his eyes glaze over.
he wasn't entirely sure what half of it even was.
he wandered around looking vaguely confused, reading little plaques without actually absorbing a single word, until a voice interrupted his increasingly lost expression.
"first time here?"
he looked up.
and then...
he forgot what he'd been looking at entirely.
you stood a few feet away, offering him an easy smile that somehow made the slightly dusty museum feel a little brighter.
you introduced yourself, explaining that you worked there.
"so..." steve said after another minute of pretending to inspect an ancient anchor. "don't take this the wrong way..."
"that's never a good start."
"...this place is kinda boring."
instead of looking offended, you laughed. an actual laugh.
"you're not wrong."
he blinked.
"...i'm not?"
"honestly?" you admitted, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "i still don't know half this boat stuff."
that made him laugh.
you explained that you'd only ended up in town yourself a while back, completely by chance. you'd become friends with the elderly curator after stopping by one afternoon, and somehow that friendship had turned into a job.
"he offered me decent pay," you said with a shrug. "the old people who visit are lovely, i get nice views every day, and i mostly just smile and point at boats."
"living the dream."
"exactly."
before either of you really realised it, you were walking through the museum together.
officially, you were supposed to be explaining the exhibits.
in reality, the exhibits became background decoration.
instead you talked.
about why he'd come to town. about why you'd stayed. about moving somewhere new because you couldn't shake the feeling there had to be more waiting for you somewhere else.
about jobs. about childhood. about favourite movies. about the terrifying concept of becoming an actual adult.
every now and then one of you would remember you were technically in a museum.
you'd point at something hanging on a wall.
"that's... a boat thing."
steve would nod seriously.
"very informative."
then you'd both laugh and carry on talking.
by the time you'd wandered through the outside exhibits overlooking the lake, he'd learned more about you than he'd expected to learn about anyone in a single afternoon.
you'd learned about him too.
not everything, but enough.
enough that conversation never felt forced. enough that silences weren't awkward. enough that, when you glanced at your watch and sighed quietly, steve's stomach sank.
"shift's over" you said.
"already?"
"afraid so."
he tried not to look quite as disappointed as he felt.
tried.
failed miserably.
"well..." he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly forgetting every smooth thing he'd ever said to a woman in his entire life. "this is probably... weird."
"probably."
"but you're obviously an expert on..." he gestured vaguely behind him. "...boats."
you laughed. "a world-renowned expert."
"clearly."
he smiled, looking down at the ground for a second before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.
"would you maybe... wanna be my tour guide tomorrow?"
there was a beat of silence.
"for the town," he added quickly. "not just more boats."
you pretended to think about it. "hmm."
"i'm willing to pay."
"tempting."
"or buy lunch."
"more tempting."
you smiled. "alright."
his face lit up instantly. "really?"
"really."
"i promise i'm less awkward after the first day."
"i somehow doubt that."
"...that's fair."
you laughed again before giving him a time and place to meet you the following morning.
steve walked back to the motel with the biggest smile he'd worn in years.
the room was still awful. the wallpaper was still hideous. the mattress still squeaked every time he sat down.
he didn't care.
there was something waiting for him tomorrow.
he wasn't entirely sure why meeting you had sparked something inside him. hope, maybe. whatever it was, he hadn't felt it in a very long time.
and as he lay staring at the stained motel ceiling that night, he couldn't help wondering if he'd ended up in this tiny lakeside town for a reason.
he had a feeling he might be staying a little longer than he'd planned.
-
the next day with you was, in steveâs entirely biased opinion, one of the best days heâd had in years.
he woke up stupidly early in that motel room, heart already doing something embarrassingly cheerful in his chest before heâd even fully opened his eyes. for a few confused seconds, he forgot where he was. forgot about the peeling wallpaper, the lumpy bed, the thin curtains doing a terrible job of blocking out the morning light.
then the memory of meeting you hit him all at once and he smiled into the pillow like an idiot.
he spent an unreasonable amount of time getting ready for someone who was, technically, only a tour guide.
when he finally met you outside, you were already waiting with that same easy smile, and the second you looked at him like you were genuinely happy heâd shown up, something warm and bright settled in his chest and stayed there.
from there, it was all so simple that it somehow felt rare.
you wandered through the town together, your pace unhurried, your conversation wandering just as much as your feet. you pointed out little things he would have missed on his own, the sort of details that made the place feel less like a stopover and more like somewhere that had a pulse.
you bought sandwiches from a tiny deli you swore, very seriously, were the best in the country, and steve believed you immediately because you looked so passionate about it that he decided not to risk arguing. then you dragged him into a thrift shop where he tried to act annoyed about it and failed, mostly because he kept finding things he secretly liked.
that was how he ended up standing at the register with a hat in his hands while you grinned at him like youâd won something.
âabsolutely notâ he said, even as he tried it on.
you tilted your head, pretending to judge him. âitâs good.â
âitâs ridiculous.â
âitâs good and ridiculous.â
he caught his reflection in the little cracked mirror behind the counter and, annoyingly, had to admit you were right. it fit him better than he wanted to admit.
before he could talk himself out of it, you bought it.
he stared at you, flustered. âyou did not have to do that.â
âwelcome gift,â you said, shrugging like it was nothing. âand good luck on your journey.â
he laughed softly, still looking at the hat like he couldnât quite believe it.
âyou know,â he said, glancing at you, âyou keep talking about my journey like iâm about to go find myself on a mountain somewhere.â
âarenât you?â
âno.â
âpity. i had a whole speech prepared.â
he shook his head, smiling despite himself, and followed you out toward the lake after that, the hat tucked under his arm until you convinced him to wear it properly.
by the time you reached the water, the day had turned almost painfully beautiful.
the sun was warm but not harsh, the lake glittering in broad bright stretches, and the air had that soft, clean smell that only came from being near water.
there were people scattered along the shore and farther out, a handful of swimmers cutting through the surface, a few families lingering with towels and coolers and the kind of easy contentment that made steve feel oddly like he was peeking into a life he didnât know heâd wanted.
you led him to a little rocky ledge tucked slightly away from the busiest part of the shore, where the stone dipped just enough to let you sit with your feet in the water.
he followed you carefully over the rocks, muttering under his breath when he nearly lost his balance, and you laughed so hard at his face that he had to pretend not to be offended.
âiâm just saying,â he said once youâd both settled, legs dangling over the edge, âthis is a very unfair surface.â
âyouâre being dramatic.â
âiâm being safe.â
âyou nearly fell on your ass.â
ânearly is the key word.â
you snorted, and he leaned back on his hands, the sunlight turning the edges of your face soft and golden.
for a second, he just looked at you, and the thought that followed was so immediate and so sincere it almost startled him.
you were beautiful.
not in some loud, obvious way that demanded attention. just in the quiet, impossible way that made him want to keep looking. to memorise the exact shape of your smile. the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed. the way you talked with your hands when you were excited. the way you seemed fully, effortlessly alive.
he looked away before he made it obvious, clearing his throat.
âcan i tell you something kind of pathetic?â
âthat depends,â you said. âhow pathetic are we talking?â
âpretty pathetic.â
âgo on then.â
he stared out at the water for a second, watching the light flicker across the surface before he answered.
âi think iâm scared i still havenât figured out what iâm supposed to do.â
the words came out smaller than he meant them to, but not weak. just honest.
you were quiet for a moment, not in the uncomfortable way, just in the way people got when they were actually listening.
then you looked at him and said, âsteve, you got in your car and left because you knew you were stuck. most people donât even get that far.â
he glanced at you.
you shrugged, feet swaying slightly in the water. âmost people spend their whole lives feeling like somethingâs off and never do anything about it. they sit with it. they let it become normal. you didnât.â
something in his chest shifted.
he let out a slow breath, watching the water lap against the rocks.
âstill feels like i should know by now.â
âwhy?â
âbecause everyone else seems to.â
you smiled a little then, soft and almost sad in a way that made him want to lean closer.
âthey donât,â you said. âthey just get better at pretending.â
he went quiet.
âbesides,â you added, nudging his knee with yours, âbeing stuck doesnât mean youâre failing. it just means youâre still in the middle of figuring it out.â
he turned that over in his head.
it was such a simple thing to say, but it landed like truth.
he thought about hawkins then, about all the times heâd been so sure everyone else had some invisible map and heâd somehow missed the part where they handed it out. he thought about how easy it was to assume other people had answers just because they looked less lost.
and then he looked at you.
you, who had also come here on a whim. you, who had apparently arrived in this town looking for something and still hadnât quite found it. you, who sat beside him on a rock with your feet in the lake and somehow seemed more certain of yourself than half the people heâd known his whole life.
âyeah,â he said quietly. âi guess youâd know.â
you raised an eyebrow. âthat sounds suspiciously like a compliment.â
âit is.â
âwow.â
he smiled. âyouâre weirdly one of the best people iâve ever met.â
that made you laugh, bright and surprised.
âyouâve known me for, what, a day?â
âstill counts.â
âthatâs absurd.â
âmaybe,â he said, bumping his shoulder lightly against yours, âbut iâm a man of deep and careful judgment.â
âyou bought a book yesterday even though you donât read.â
âthat was one time.â
you laughed again, and he decided right then and there that your laugh was one of his favorite sounds in the world, which felt wildly unfair considering how short a time heâd known you.
after that, the two of you became nearly inseparable.
steve found a part time temp job at a corner store a few streets over, mostly to help cover the motel and buy himself a little more time in town. he expected it to be miserable. instead, it turned out to be tolerable in that strangely comforting way life sometimes was when he stopped trying to control every part of it.
the motel clerk, a woman with tired eyes and a permanently unimpressed expression, somehow became one of the first people in town to make him feel vaguely at home.
she offered him a questionable cigarette every time he walked by the front desk, and he always declined, and she always looked vaguely offended by his refusal.
somehow that turned into a routine, and somewhere between the deadpan exchanges and her occasional snide comments about the quality of the townâs plumbing, they developed a sort of friendship. or at least something adjacent to one.
and you.
he spent as much time with you as he possibly could.
on his breaks, on your breaks, after shifts, on weekends, in the gaps between whatever tiny obligations the town demanded of either of you. you showed him the local diner that had the best pie and the worst coffee. he showed you how he could win any game of stupid trivia if the questions were about obscure movies, bad pop music, or useless sports facts. you took him to places tourists probably never bothered with, and he took you on walks just because he liked hearing you talk while the two of you wandered aimlessly under the open sky.
the more time he spent with you, the less he thought about hawkins.
not completely. never completely.
he still called robin and dustin almost every day, and the others whenever they had time. he still got texts from his neighbor back home complaining about a package left outside his apartment door or some letter that needed to be collected, and those reminders were enough to keep the existence of his old life from dissolving entirely. it didnât disappear.
it just stopped feeling like the center of everything.
at first, he told himself he would leave next week.
then next week turned into another week.
and then another.
every time the thought of going back started poking at him, heâd picture your face and feel something in his chest drag warm and heavy and reluctant in the direction of staying.
so he extended his trip.
then extended it again.
and somewhere along the way, the excuses got less convincing.
he wasnât fooling himself.
he knew exactly why he was still there.
and when he finally found the nerve to make your outings official dates, he nearly talked himself out of it three separate times before he actually asked. but youâd looked at him like he was the only person in the room and smiled that little smile of yours, and suddenly the word date felt less terrifying and more like the beginning of something heâd been trying not to hope for.
the kiss happened a little later than he wanted it to, which felt very rude of the universe, but when it finally did, he was absolutely done for.
it happened one evening by the water after the town had gone quiet and everything about it felt too perfect to be real.
heâd been talking about nothing and everything at once, one hand in his pocket, the other brushing against yours as you stood shoulder to shoulder. then you looked at him in that way you did sometimes, like you were waiting without pressure, and his nerves finally gave way to instinct.
he kissed you.
you kissed him back.
and then, because apparently his life enjoyed making him feel like he was seventeen again and hopelessly undone, he realised he had no idea how he was supposed to act normal after that.
he tried.
he failed.
spectacularly.
after that, it was impossible not to see that heâd become attached to the town, but not really to the town itself.
to you.
to the way your smile made the whole day feel softer. to the way your hand fit in his like it had been meant to be there all along. to the way you listened. to the way you made him feel like every ridiculous, tender, hopeful part of him was allowed to exist without apology. to the way he wanted to know everything about you. to the way he wanted you to know everything about him.
he tried, once, to tell you the truth about hawkins.
not all of it at first. just enough.
the things under the ground, the things in the dark, the way all of it had changed him.
he expected disbelief. maybe awkward laughter. maybe concern so sharp it would make him wish heâd never said anything.
instead, you just listened.
really listened.
your expression shifted, sure, but not into mockery. not into pity. just into something thoughtful.
and that frightened him more than laughter would have.
because no one outside the group had ever looked at him like that and seemed to believe him.
he didnât want you in that world.
he didnât want those monsters anywhere near you, anywhere near the soft little life you seemed to be building for yourself here. so he cut the story short. gave you the one demogorgon encounter, flattened the edges, and lied that heâd been drunk that night, just to make it sound more impossible.
he didnât know why he lied.
maybe because if he told you the whole truth, it would become real again in a way he didnât want.
maybe because youâd looked so calm and so unafraid that he suddenly wanted to protect that in you, even if it meant hiding parts of himself.
whatever the reason, you didnât push.
you didnât ask again.
and after that, the subject never came up between you.
he talked about the rest though.
about robin and dustin. about nancy and jonathan and the weird, chaotic, impossible little family heâd ended up with.
about how he sometimes missed everyone so much it felt like an ache he kept under his ribs.
and once, while he was mid-rant about some ridiculous thing dustin had done, he suddenly realised heâd been talking for far too long.
he stopped, embarrassed, ready to apologise for rambling.
but when he looked at you, you were smiling.
not politely. genuinely.
and you nodded, encouraging him to continue.
so he did.
because no one had really done that before. no one had ever wanted to hear him talk about the stupid stuff. about the little details. about the people he loved. about all the mess and noise of his life back home.
you did.
and every time you listened like that, something in him settled deeper.
the days passed.
then weeks.
and eventually, steve ended up unofficially staying at your apartment.
the motel room sat mostly untouched by then, his things slowly migrating across town until there wasnât much left to bring back each night. the apartment was cozier, lived-in in a way that made the motel feel like a place he had merely passed through. it became normal to leave his shoes by your door, to find his toothbrush next to yours, to fall asleep on your couch half-watching whatever movie was playing and wake up with you curled against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
you both claimed it was practical.
you said it saved him money, he said it made more sense than the motel.
which was true, technically.
but both of you knew, quietly and without needing to say it, that there was more to it than that.
neither of you wanted to lose the time you had left.
because by then, steve had started to understand something that scared him just a little.
it wasnât just that he was falling for you, he already had, it was that being with you made staying feel less like a pause and more like a life.
and for someone who had spent so long feeling as if he was waiting to begin, that meant everything.
he still didnât know what âitâ was. that elusive thing heâd been chasing when he first left hawkins behind. the thing that had felt missing for so long.
but now, with your hand in his and your laugh in his ears and your apartment becoming the place he returned to every night, he was starting to think maybe the answer wasnât some grand revelation after all.
maybe it was this.
maybe it was a town on the coast of lake michigan. maybe it was a thrift store hat and a sandwich you swore was the best in the country. maybe it was a museum heâd thought was boring until you walked up and changed everything. maybe it was the way you made a life out of small, ordinary things. maybe it was the way you looked at him like he was worth staying for.
and maybe, just maybe, steve harrington had finally stumbled into the place where he was supposed to be, even if heâd found it by accident.
-
you and steve still werenât official, not really, but by then it didnât feel like it mattered much in the usual sense.
you had both settled into something quiet and comfortable and so constant that it was starting to look suspiciously like a relationship anyway.
it was in the way he came back to your place without thinking twice. in the way you left a space for him on the couch. in the way his toothbrush lived beside yours and his jacket ended up on your chair and neither of you ever seemed to question it. you werenât seeing anyone else. he knew that, and he was pretty sure you knew that too. there was no point pretending otherwise. whatever this was, it had long since become more than a passing thing.
and then, eventually, the temp role at his job ran out.
the end of it had been sitting in the back of his mind for weeks, a little quiet dread he kept trying to ignore. but time, annoyingly, had a way of moving forward whether he was ready or not, and suddenly the inevitable was standing right in front of him.
it was time to go back home.
or it should have been, anyway.
the two of you spent days in bed after that, as if neither of you wanted to say the words out loud where they could become real.
you talked for hours with your legs tangled together and your voices soft from lack of sleep. you talked about how much you would miss each other, like saying it enough times might make it hurt less. you promised to keep in touch. to call. to text. to make it work. you made plans that felt flimsy and hopeful and impossible all at once.
and yet, even while he said all the right things, steve could feel something in him resisting.
the thought of leaving made his chest feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with nerves.
because the longer he lay there beside you, the more obvious it became that he didnât want to go.
and more than that, he didnât have to.
so when you were at work one afternoon, steve spent the first proper day to himself in a while. no company. no distractions. no easy excuses. just him and his thoughts and a whole lot of silence.
he ended up on a random bench somewhere near the water, staring out at nothing in particular while his mind spun in circles.
he had left hawkins because he was searching for something.
heâd come here on a whim, with no real plan, and somehow landed exactly where he was supposed to be. first try. no detours that mattered. no dead ends. just this town and this life and you.
surely that was too good to be true, right?
surely he wasnât supposed to believe the universe handed him the answer that easily.
but maybe that was exactly what had happened.
maybe you werenât too good to be true, maybe you were just good.
maybe that was all there was to it. maybe after everything heâd been through, the universe had finally decided to stop fighting him for five damn seconds. maybe the fact that both of you had spent so long feeling uncertain about who you were supposed to be had pulled you together in the first place, like two missing pieces of something neither of you could name until you fit.
he sat with that thought for a long time.
long enough for the afternoon to shift. long enough for the sky to change. long enough for the answer to settle into him with a kind of calm certainty he hadnât felt in years.
he wasnât going back.
or rather, he wasnât going back now.
not because hawkins was wrong, exactly. not because he didnât love the people there, or because he had nothing left behind him. but because for the first time, he had something in front of him that felt real enough to stay for.
and it was you.
so he stood up, brushed off his jeans, and headed straight to the museum.
he waited outside for all of five minutes before your shift ended, and when you stepped out and spotted him leaning against the wall with that familiar look on his face, you stopped short.
then your expression softened into a pleasantly surprised smile, and you made your way over to him like youâd been looking for him too.
âhiâ you said, already smiling.
âhey.â
âyouâre here.â
he shrugged a little, trying and failing to seem casual. âcouldnât wait to see you.â
that made you laugh, quiet and warm, and the sound eased something in his chest before either of you had even started walking.
the two of you got ice cream on the way home, because steve insisted it was necessary and because you humored him the way you always did when he got a little too earnest about something pointless. the walk back was slow and easy, your shoulders brushing now and then, the kind of ordinary moment that somehow felt enormous to him.
he looked at you beside him and felt it again, that strange and certain sense of rightness.
not because the town itself had become important. not because the museum or the shops or the lake had suddenly turned magical.
just because you were there.
and somehow that was enough to make him feel like he belonged.
that night, the two of you ended up on the couch together, as usual, the apartment quiet around you except for the low murmur of some movie neither of you was really watching. steve kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his nerves building in that familiar frustrating way that always showed up when he had something important to say.
you noticed, of course. you always noticed.
eventually you turned your head and gave him a look. âwhat?â
he exhaled through his nose, almost laughing at himself. âcan i ask you something?â
you arched a brow. âthat sounds dramatic.â
âiâm being serious.â
âthatâs worse.â
he groaned under his breath, then sat up a little straighter, suddenly aware of how fast his heart was beating.
âokay,â he said, âi know weâve kind of... already been doing this.â
you smiled faintly, waiting.
âbut i was wondering,â he continued, âif youâd maybe let me be yours. officially.â
you stared at him for a second.
then you gave him this skeptical look that made him immediately worry heâd misread everything for the last several weeks.
and then you smiled.
big and bright and impossible.
before he could even process it, youâd climbed straight into his lap, hands framing his face as you kissed him with the kind of certainty that made his whole body go warm and loose all at once.
when you finally pulled back, he was pretty sure he had forgotten how to breathe.
âyesâ you said, voice soft and amused.
he blinked at you. âyes?â
âyes, steve.â
he laughed, half in relief and half in disbelief, his hands settling carefully at your waist like he was still trying to convince himself you were real.
âgoodâ he muttered.
you smiled against his mouth again before kissing him once more, slower this time, and when you finally rested your forehead against his, he felt something in him settle so completely it almost hurt.
that was when he said it.
the truth, quietly, like it was the most important thing heâd ever admitted.
âi found what i was looking for here.â
you went still, just enough for him to feel it.
he swallowed once, then corrected himself with a small, helpless smile. ânot here. just... with you.â
for a second, you didnât say anything then you kissed him again, soft and sure, and when you pulled back this time your forehead stayed pressed to his.
âgoodâ you whispered, and there was something almost shaking in the way you smiled. âbecause i was really hoping you were going to say that. otherwise i was about to pack up and follow you back to hawkins.â
he barked out a laugh, startled and delighted all at once. âyouâd do that?â
âiâm being romantic.â
he laughed harder then, the sound breaking something open in both of you, and soon you were laughing too, your hands still on his face like you couldnât quite let go.
then, slowly, the laughter faded into something softer.
something calmer.
you shifted against him and the two of you curled together on the couch, wrapped up in each other in that natural, inevitable way that made it feel like you had always belonged there.
the tv kept murmuring in the background.
the apartment stayed warm and quiet around you.
and for the first time since leaving hawkins, steve didnât feel like he was waiting for his life to begin.
it was already happening.
you both fell asleep like that, tangled together and still smiling a little even in your sleep, with one thing settled between you without needing to be said again.
you would figure it out together.
it didnât matter if he stayed here and got a permanent job at the store, or sold his apartment back in hawkins and made this place home, or went back someday and found something different there, or ended up somewhere entirely new.
none of that mattered as much as this did.
because with you by his side, steve felt sure he could handle whatever came next.
that was what he had been searching for all this time.
not some perfect answer. not a map. not a life already planned out.
just someone to manage it all with.
and somehow, impossibly, he had found that in you.
Hiii so I'm posting this as kinda a last resort because I'm 23 and have no friends or life really lol. I like to bake,paint and thrift (mainly physical media). I'm a huge swiftie and have been since I was a kid. my fav show is gilmore girls and I live for anything fall/halloween related. So if you're anything like me and get sad and need someone to talk to I'm right here
summary: you look too good in your bathing suit on vacation.
word count: 2.4k
contains: fluff & smut. chloe/jimmy, lois/oliver, reader/clark trip to the beach. jealous & protective!clark, oblivious!reader. some grumpy behavior and horniness, some overreactingâ clark is just a man guys, excuse his behavior⊠teasing/banter. reader is heavily implied to be a switch. *handjob, praise, the beloved bunny kink. *no use of y/n
a/n: clark you are so hungry omfg. here you go anon wrote this at midnight just for you!!!!
Clark was not jealous. He was just concerned for your safety. Somebody had to be!
This beach could be full of criminals. Potential attackers and kidnappers. Men who could take one look at you and decide that you would be the perfect victim to wrangle away from the group and disappear without a trace. They certainly all seemed to think so by the way they stared, and he wasnât having it.Â
What was worse was that you didnât even notice. You just laid there in that ridiculous number: little bikini bottoms with two tropical flowers on each cheek, the hem pinching the plentiful skin of your hips and thighs, and a matching bikini top that did nothing to conceal the soft rolls and curves of your torso, which were so safely shrouded in a pretty blue rashguard on the walk over. Your body was a magnet. His magnet. He was rigid as a board as he surveyed the shore.
âYou need more sunscreen,â Clark grunted, taking the half-empty bottle free and pulling you up by the arms.Â
You flushed a bit and glanced to your left, where Lois was smirking behind a dipped hat brim. She mouthed, Psycho.
âClarkie, you sunblocked me like a half-hour ago! The stuff doesnât wear off until eighty minutes!â
âDonât care. You look pink. Should have listened and kept that rashguard onâ sit up, bunny.â
You rolled your eyes and let him smear more sunblock on your arms, and you took the opportunity to look up at his face. His skin was perfectly golden alreadyâ Kryptonians donât need sunblock, which was some kind of cruel trick by the universe, you decidedâ and his mouth was turned downward. For lack of a better word, on your nice tropical vacation with friends and drinks and absolutely nothing going wrong, your boyfriend looked miserable.Â
You furrowed your brow. âWhatâs gotten into you?â
âIâm fine,â he mumbled, moving onto your tummy. He took indulgent liberties with squeezing and kneading your flesh, and his eyes flickered around as he did so. At the group of guys down the beach knocking a volleyball around, and the other group in the opposite direction who were sipping beers, and even at his own friends. Oliver was half-asleep in a chair beside Lois with a warm soda can in his grip, and Jimmy was nose-deep in a comic anthology which he protected from the sand with his life.Â
âYou look like a spooked cat. Or a dejected seal.â
Clark glared affectionately at you and playfully smeared some lotion on your cheek. When you scrunched your nose and swatted him away, he moaned in annoyance. Your warm skin was glittering. âThat stuff is a little much, you know.â
âI like the sparkle sunscreen,â you laughed. âSeriously, baby, what is it?â
âNothing,â he huffed, tossing the bottle back into your bag and sitting back in his chair. âNothing.â
You gave it a second, wheels spinning with curiosity, before giving up. Clark could get this way sometimes. All rough around the edges. It usually happened when he was in an unusual environment. The beach was definitely oneâ being a Smallville native, all he knew were lakes. The ocean was a sprawling unknown variable before your eyes, littered with vacation boats rocking in the waves and people bobbing like apples. Maybe he was afraid of sharks. Or fun.Â
Shaking off the attitude, you nudged Loisâ foot. âI think I might go dip my feet in. Wanna go? Chloe?â
The spunky blondeâs head perked up, and she smiled with every tooth. âSure! Iâm pretty hot anyways.â
âAlright, fine⊠letâs get it over with,â Lois smirked.Â
As you rose to your feet, Clark watched you unwrap the nest of hair punctured by your hair clip. The sweaty strands fell like ropes of silk down your back, shining in the sunlight. His heart hammered while he protested: âBut I just put sunblock on you! Thatâs gotta soak in!â
You sighed and threw him a glance over your shoulder as Lois and Chloe started down the searing sand toward the water. âI think my sunblock from earlier is set just fine!â
Clark sputtered softly to himself as the swing of your hips sliced the air. There you went, trotting in scraps of nylon and spandex, bearing your Hellenistic shape to the undeserving eyes of the entire Atlantic coast. He was lucky nobody chased you to the water. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably, tracking your trio.Â
âYou know, man, sheâs allowed to enjoy herself,â Oliver said, giving Clark a start. He was so convincingly napping before. âThe poor girlâs just trying to have fun and youâre hounding her.â
Clark stared at Oliver with the blank expression of his ancestors. âShe is enjoying herself.â
âNot with you breathing down her neck, sheâs not. Whatâs the big idea, anyway? Canât give her space?â
Clark waved him off dismissively. Oliver wouldnât understand. Lois was the queen of wearing revealing things, and he wasnât innocent of the charge, either. They were perfect for each other in a lot of ways. But you? His sweet, thoughtful girl? You wore clothes. Real clothes, frequently. Seeing you like this was entirely too jarring for Clarkâs taste. It had him aching in places too vulnerable for the open air.
Oliver studied his friendâs profile. Clarkâs fingers tapped impatiently on his knees while his eyes darted past your every move, watching you splash water on Chloe and whip your salted hair back, letting the water trickle beneath the tie of your top and through the crevices of your body. Suddenly, the man found himself laughing.Â
âWhat? Whatâs so funny?â Clark grumbled irritably.Â
âDude, are you seriously jealous over your own girlfriend?â
Clark snapped his head towards Oliver. Jimmyâs eyes flicked up, too, smiling behind his book. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âHey, I get it. She looks good in thatââ
Clarkâs face burned as his hand shot out and clapped Oliverâs mouth shut. âWatch it.â
The blond licked his palm and made the man rescind with disgust, cackling at the worldâs funniest joke. âYouâve got problems, my friend.â
âDonât look at her. In fact, just shut your eyes. Look at nothing.â
âMy girlfriend is down there too!â
âShut up,â he deadpanned, standing decisively.Â
Down at the water, you dunked under again, feeling the rush of cool liquid over your sizzling skin. When you came back up, Lois was picking at a knot in her hair and still pressing the topic of your boyfriend.
âIâm telling you, heâs trying to mark his territory,â she rambled, and Chloeâs laugh rang out from the waves a few feet over. âGuys get that way, seriously! The second you look too good for them, they dig their claws in. Everyone and everything is a threat.â
âBut I didnât do anything!â You swore, adjusting your swim bottoms.Â
âLook at you! I donât think Iâve ever seen you in a bikini. Clearly Clark wishes only he could see you in a bikini.â
You flushed and argued, âWell, thereâs nothing wrong with a little body positivityâŠâ
âOf course there isnât,â Chloe interjected, leaping to ride a small wave out. âBut what Lois is trying to say is that you look great, and I think itâs making Clark nervous. You know how he gets when guys flirt with you.â
âIâm still not convinced that they do.â
âThat guy in the bar last week? âDo you always take your drinks as sweet as you?â Oh, please!â Lois snickered.Â
Wincing a bit, you admitted, âOkay, that one might have been a pick up line.â
A rushed hiss escaped from Chloe, cutting their conversation short. She raised her finger to her lips and flung a handful of water at you and Lois, suddenly grinning. âShut upâ heâs coming in!â
You turned toward the shore to see Clark in his abhorrently long swim trunks wading into the shallow shoreline. You had tried to take him shopping for a suit that fit the day and age, but he was insistent that his high-school trunks worked just fine. He had the same bothered expression on his face, and you stifled a laugh as he swam out.Â
âI think Iâll go make Ollie sunblock me sensually,â Lois quipped, and Chloe winked at you, following her cousinâs strokes back to shore.Â
Clark shot them a passing glance and dove underwater, and you watched for his head to pop up. It was only when a pair of hands wrapped around your ankles that you yelped. The water swallowed you whole, and you felt a rippling pair of arms wrap around your waist as you surfaced again, sputtering with laughter.Â
âWarn me next time! I could have choked!â
Clark smiled and smoothed your soaked hair from your face, revealing those shiny eyes and plump cheeks. Another stroke of unpredictability had him lunging forward with a kiss, and you grunted in surprise as his lips slotted against yours; you quickly found your way, of course, forgetting you were in the ocean and that he had nearly drowned you for the sake of joining the group.Â
âMmfâ Clark,â you wheezed, prying yourself free. âI mean it, whatâs going on with you? Youâve been acting crazy since we left the hotel.â
âYour bathing suit,â he conceded, hands smoothing down your back.Â
âMy what?â
âYou look ridiculous in it,â he elaborated, blushing awkwardly. âLike, good. Ridiculously good. Everyone is staring at you.â
âThey are not.â
âYes, baby, they are,â he sighed, hooking a thumb under the little bow tying your bottoms to your hip. The purchase seemed to ground him. âYouâre attracting all kinds of attention. Do you have any idea what itâs like to have to sit around and watch while you make the entire beach drool?â
âI hardly thinkââ
âIâve been hard for like, two hours,â he grumbled, dipping his head to press kisses to your collarbone. With the next swell of water, he drew you closer, pressing his groin against your thigh. The stiffness was overt. âPlease donât tell me you intended to torture me where everyone can see.â
Oh. Oh. So that was it.Â
You giggled sheepishly and wrapped your weightless legs around him, reveling in the buoyancy the sea afforded you. He flushed deeper and spanned his palms over the curve of your ass, keeping you flush. With a soft press of your lips to the juncture of his jaw, you whispered in his ear, âYou really think I look that good?â
âYes, bunny, obviously,â he muttered, properly humiliated.Â
You were no better. How many times have you wanted to tear a girlâs head off her shoulders for ogling him at work or on the street? You understood being territorial, even if Lois thought it was juvenile. Who wouldnât want to keep a guy like Clark all to themselves? In a twisted way, it flattered you that he loved you that muchâ to the point of paranoia. It was kind of cute. Maybe you were both crazy.
You made the irresponsible decision to shove your hand down his swim trunks, and Clarkâs eyes shot wide open. âBunny, youââ
âNobody can see,â you cooed, leaving kisses down the side of his neck, âjust looks like weâre kissing. Let meâŠâ
âCanât you get an infection or something?â
A lighthearted giggle fell from your lips. âIâm not going to fuck you in the ocean. Yes, I would, I canât imagine getting sea water stuck up there would be good for me. But you, on the other handâŠâ
Clarkâs eyes fluttered shut as he felt your thumb slip over the throbbing slit of his cock, nudging the pink skin like a button. âOh, goshâŠâ
âYou want it? Iâll be quick, Iâll do a good job, I promise,â you crooned.
âAhâ mhm. Yeah, yes, yes. Please.â
You beamed at his tone. Superman was so macho until he had a hand on his cock. Sometimes you wondered if the taboo column would ever run a poll on whether the public believed Superman whined during sex. You would never tell them the truth.
âYou donât have to worry, you know,â you murmured, wrapping a set of delicate fingers around his shaft and starting to pump. âI only have eyes for you.â
Clark was grateful for the water, because he could at least count on it to hold him up as his knees buckled. The two of you drifted about in the waves as he clung onto you for dear life, face tucked into your neck, swallowing moans as if anyone could possibly hear all the way up the beach.Â
âIâm glad you like my bathing suit,â you kept talking, spurring him on as you jerked his cock diligently in your hand, thumbing the head with a practiced pressure and relishing the familiar twitch of his muscles.Â
âBunny, baby⊠oh, pleaseâŠâ
âYou think I want anyone else looking at me? Putting sunblock on my back?â You nipped his ear, coaxing your grip on him faster. âOnly you, Clarkie. Wish we were alone, wish this was a private beach⊠I might have just let you fuck me right there on the sand.â
Clark moaned embarrassingly loud and you covered it with a splash of your free hand in the water, laughing sweetly. His gut clenched and jumped with every twist of your palm, the short-lived response only seconds away from seeding the sea. âYouâre s-so mean,â he whimpered, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. âGood girl.â
âIâm gonna get nice and sunburnt, baby, so when we go back to the hotel you can peel this swimsuit off and put aloe all over me,â you promised, voice lilting like a siren call. He always liked it when you talked softly to him like this. Of the two of you, your mouth was dirtier. âYou can lay me down and have me all to yourself.â
âYou promise?â He panted, cock jumping. Just the thought of locking you in the room and pounding into you until the time to drag you to dinner came⊠âJesus, Bunny, Iâm gonna cum!â
You nibbled on his cheek and cranked down hard, and Clarkâs hips bucked into your hand. You listened to the soft sounds of his moans as they gurgled against your wet skin, and in the water below, you saw little white tadpoles springing to the surface. A triumphant smile overtook your warm face.Â
Clarkâs body was taut with release as you smiled at him, and he tugged you underwater again, digging his fingers into your sides to perform a revengeful tickle. When you came up gasping for air, he kissed you hard, mumbling a barely coherent swear: âHave your fun while it lasts, because when we get back to the room, Iâm gonna make you hop.â
You flushed happily and bit his lip, feeling another wave crash over your shoulders. âLucky me.â
Jack was used to you asking him for help, had been for the two years since you moved into the apartment directly across from his.
He didnât mind offering you a lending hand when he saw you struggling to carry your boxes from your small run down car, it wasnât an inconvenience to collect your mail if you ever had to leave town for a few days, and he really couldnât complain about having to remind you to get your laundry from the unit down below because it held him accountable too.
It was such a common occurrence, you asking him for a favor, that he wasnât too surprised to find you at his door. He only gave a soft sigh as you pushed past him to enter his apartment, offering you a lot more patience than he did the newbies at the hospital.
You were always sweet, maybe a little bossy at times, but it gave him some amusement in his otherwise strict routine.
Plus it was admittedly nice to feel needed.
You came to him when your apartment had a leak or your air conditioning went out, knocked on his door whenever it was raining and youâd forgotten an umbrella after locking yourself out, and you even sometimes popped over just to get his opinion on what you should wear out on a random night.
Everybody was always telling Jack he needed a hobby that didnât involve putting his life on the line, so he rarely told you no and tried his best to brush off Robby whenever he asked what was keeping him so busy lately.
It would be hard enough to explain the dynamic he had with his much younger neighbor but even more so considering you were now standing in the middle of his apartment with a frustrated look on your face, hands on your hips as you tapped your bunny slipper covered foot.
âWhat is it now?â His voice was gruff and disinterested but you knew well enough that he would do whatever you asked and he was well aware of that too. Still, it helped him just a little to pretend to contemplate it for a second or two first.
âI need you to have sex with me.â
You said it like it was as simple as asking him to come over and check your water pressure, falling out of your mouth casually and landing heavily in the quiet room.
There was no need to pretend this time as he fell into a bewildered silence, raising an eyebrow in your direction and letting his eyes track you as you dramatically sighed and went to flop down on his couch. Youâd demanded about a year ago that he got some pillows for it, along with a few other interior design suggestions.
Heâd picked up four after his shift that night.
âPlease say something.â You were turned around on the couch so you could face him over the back of it, arms crossed as you rested your chin ontop of them.
âI have nothing to say to that.â He shook his head immediately, that stern expression he used on an unruly patient or Robby when he got a little too pushy.
This just made you sigh again, loud and exaggerated as you turned back around to fully lay flat on his couch.
âWhy are you even asking me that?â He didnât want to pry because he knew you well enough by now to know youâd just be encouraged by that but his curiosity got the best of him, circling around to sit across from you on one of the living room chairs.
You didnât sit up but you turned your head to the side to look at him, a slight frown on your face that he didnât think was particularly genuine. Your personality was always something Jack admired, not getting a lot of time in his own life to be so bold with his emotions and carefree in the way he spoke and behaved.
He was serious and guarded where you were a walking billboard for spontaneity, coming to him crying about random problems after only half a week of living in the building.
It was mostly endearing but there was the more critical part of him that wondered how lonely you must be to be making friends and finding comfort with some random guy across the hallway, a much older one at that.
Jack knew he had a bit of a hero complex but it typically manifested in a more extreme way, quite literally jumping into battle to save lives or operating on them in their lowest moments. This dynamic with you was a new form of care taking and thereâd been a handful of times heâd doubted his own motives.
âBecause I have a date next week and I am a complete lost cause when it comes to all things intimacy.â You still had a theatrical flare to your voice, not facing him anymore and instead rambling straight up to his ceiling with your hands gesturing wildly.
He tensed up for two reasons now, one being the mention of a date and the other was your implication you didnât have any experience.
âBut youâve had sex before.â It came out slowly and half like a question, half like an assumption.
There wasnât any real reason for him to think that other than his own social expectations. You were gorgeous, one of the prettiest women heâd seen in a very long time, and had a naturally magnetic energy to you that even he couldnât resist most of the time, platonically but also selfishly deep down, a little more than that.
Heâd seen you go on a handful of dates in the last year or two, all guys your age that didnât seem to know how to pick up a check let alone please you properly.
Thatâs where Jackâs problem stemmed from.
There had been almost no ulterior motive the first year he had known you, genuinely trying to be helpful and to be a good neighbor. He would get upset when his coworkers would call him anti social or make digs at how unfriendly he was because he hadnât always been like that and he figured helping out the girl next door was a good first step to getting that part of himself back.
Youâd told him after a few months that you had no family on this side of the country, completely starting fresh at a new company youâd applied to on a whim.
It was completely innocent.
Yes, you were undoubtedly beautiful in a way that made his head spin for a second when he first saw you. You had been standing near your car and fighting with a box, both by tugging at it and saying less than kind words in its direction like it could understand you.
Jack had hesitated for a handful of seconds before making his way over and offering to help, feeling this weird pull in his chest when you blinked up at him in surprise and eagerly thanked him.
Once you were in his life, you never left. And he made space for you effortlessly because, quite frankly, he had plenty of it to offer up.
About seven months ago was the first time he had ever seen you with a guy.
Heâd been coming home from a long and rare day shift (covering for Robby so he could attend Jakeâs graduation), dragging his leg behind him and praying nobody stopped him on the way to his apartment so he could crawl into bed for a few short hours before he had to do it all over again for his own shift.
The only distraction he would have allowed was you but you were clearly busy, standing in the hallway as he got off the elevator and touching the rather small bicep of a guy your age.
Jack hesitated, considered getting right back on the elevator before it could close on him, and then slowly walked to his door.
He had hoped you wouldnât acknowledge him because his throat was already weirdly tight as he eyed you and the way you stared up at the man (boy, if Jack had to really label it) with that soft and curious expression you always had.
âJack.â Your voice was full of excitement and he faltered, his key left in his doors lock as he turned to give you an attempt at a polite smile. âCovering somebody again?â
If this had been any other day then Jack would have invited you into his apartment to talk instead of lingering in the hallway. He would have ignored his exhaustion to pair his black coffee with the hot chocolate flavor you liked that he kept in his bottom drawer, complained to you about being tired and listened to you scold him for working too much when he didnât need to.
But you were in a pretty dress that was clearly on its way to dinner and your date was giving Jack that possessive stare that guys fresh out of college thought was intimidating.
So instead he simply nodded his head and continued to unlock his door.
âThis is Asher.â You continued abruptly as he turned his door handled, leaving it cracked as he stopped to look at you again.
He gave you a once over to make sure everything was okay, wondering why you were still insisting on talking to him when you were so clearly meant to be going somewhere else. You didnât look too uncomfortable but you were watching him back just as intensely so he mentally stored the name and face of the guy anyways, just in case something happened.
âAshton.â Your date finally spoke and his voice was annoyed and laced with immature bitterness, although slightly valid considering you had forgotten his name.
Your eyes widened, still boring into Jacks, and he smiled a little before giving you a small wave and heading inside.
Jack realized quickly after that encounter that his intentions were a lot less innocent than he had initially thought they were. Heâd closed his door before immediately pressing his back against it, listening to the sound of your small heels leaving the hallway as you apologized to your date with a clenched jaw and a pain in his stomach.
The next few dates after that just confirmed what he had already realized from the first one.
He was attracted to you.
Maybe even liked you.
You talked to Jack about almost everything going on in your life, even things he definitely would not have cared about if it came from anybody else, but you never once brought up the dates. At first he had worried you had somehow noticed his weird demeanor that day in the hallway but Jack wasnât very expressive in general so he figured you must keep that part of your life private for other reasons.
The attraction part was easy to accept mostly, he was only a man and you were clearly gorgeous. Although the age gap was something Jack couldnât get himself to look past.
You were barely in your early twenties, over half his age younger and overly obviously so. You radiated youth, from your appearance and the way you spoke down to your hobbies and interests.
You were clearly a very young girl and he had felt like a pervert from the moment he saw you outside of that car for the way his body warmed. Jack hadnât felt much attraction to anybody at all since his wife died, at first out of a lingering loyalty to her that barely faded and then just due to his busyness and his own mental blocks.
That was not a problem when it came to you and he had to give a genuine effort when he was around you to act normal.
Youâd come over in tiny sleep shorts or a tight tank top that showed your hardened nipples through the thin fabric, join him for morning yoga in downright sinful leggings and he even was attracted to the stupid bunny slippers you wore.
But you were a young girl and he was a disciplined old man so he barely looked twice in your direction when you were bending over to get mail and he never once touched you, setting boundaries for himself and keeping them.
Which was why it was so hard for him when you slowly shook your head to his question about having sex before.
âWhat about those guys?â His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you and you sighed like you were embarrassed, a rare emotion to see from you.
âWe barely kissed.â You shrugged and finally sat up from your dramatic position on the couch. âPlease Jack, I donât have anyone else to ask.â
âIâm not sleeping with you.â He said immediately, slightly offended you were seemingly only asking him because you had no other options.
You looked completely dejected now but Jack knew there was no way he could possibly accept this request, for too many reasons but especially because of his own moral code. He also didnât want to ruin what youâd had going on, enjoying your company on his hard nights and finding himself finally letting somebody in after so many years alone.
âOkay so no sex.â You say softly and you stand up when he does, following him as he walks into the kitchen and leaning against the counter to watch him set the coffee machine settings. âBut canât you show me little things.â
He sends you a sharp look that you return with a gentle pleading smile, bouncing in place a little like you think your cuteness is the answer to everything.
And it just might be because Jack sighs softly and turns his full attention back to you.
âLike what?â He knows him asking for specifics will give you hope and he can see it immediately on your face, brightening and taking a step closer to him that makes him tense.
âMaybe just telling me what guys like?â You suggest softly and the words coming from your mouth make him almost groan, keeping his face flat and emotionless as you speak. âAnd some kissing lessons.â
âYou know how to kiss.â He shook his head at you and went to turn back to his coffee but your hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him, successfully keeping his attention on you. He realized that it might be the first time youâd ever actually touched him, skin against skin. âIâve seen it.â
His posture tightens as he reminds himself of that fact, easily recalling the vivid memory of leaving his apartment to head to work and finding you coming home from a date and making out with a guy against your door.
You hadnât noticed him at first but he had slammed his door harder than normal, shamefully intentional.
Thereâd been a pang of guilt when you jumped in surprise and separated from the guy who looked the douchiest out of all of them but it was hard to feel it when you have him a slightly grateful look on his way to the elevator.
You were blinking at him now, almost like you were realizing something, and he looked away in favor of glancing at the clock on the wall.
âNot a kiss that feels good.â Your voice was more serious now, sounding genuinely disheartened by the conversation and the slow unveiling of your inexperience.
He sighed again, just trying to get rid of the tightness in his chest, before shaking his head firmly and fully turning away from you to fill up his coffee mug.
âIâm not doing it.â
â
Jack thought about your offer for the next two weeks. Obsessively.
He waited to hear you bringing somebody else over, someone who had jumped on the golden opportunity to touch you for the first time when he hesitated. You didnât seem to go on any dates but he supposed you wouldnât have told him anyways.
The thought of you experiencing sex with some asshole you met off a dating app, nervous and unsure on what to do without guidance, was eating away at him.
Jack was a fixer, he liked to help you, and he had already accepted the fact that he was extremely attracted to you. It wasnât like he didnât recognize the jealously in his stomach everytime he saw you with somebody else, a type of anger he hadnât felt since he was preparing to go into a real life war.
Subdued by age and a calmer reality now but it was still fresh hot anger that he couldnât shake no matter how much he tried.
You came to him with this problem, not just for pointers and tips but you had actually asked him to be the one to take your virginity.
Virginity.
Jack couldnât get the concept out of his head and while he hadnât necessarily considered himself somebody who would care about that type of thing, especially not as he entered his fifties, it did bring a wave of heat over him whenever he thought about it.
Youâd never been touched before outside of a few unsatisfactory make out sessions. You, the pretty girl with downright sinful choices of pajamas that consumed his day to day life so easily after he spent such a long time alone.
He thought about it endlessly until it led to him knocking on your door, a rare switch of the usual dynamic that left him feeling a little awkward before you answered.
The sensation went away when you looked up at him, eyes a little wide with confusion as you silently stepped back to let him inside. It was rare for you to be so quiet but maybe you could tell what he was thinking by the look on his face, maybe you were thinking about the same exact thing.
âIâll help you.â His voice was gruff and flat, waiting until your door closed behind him before he spoke. Your face immediately lit up but he silenced anything you were going to say with a raised hand, your parted lips closing as you waited for him to finish. âBut Iâm not sleeping with you.â
You pouted a little at the condition but stepped forward after a few seconds, far too close to him for his sanity but he figured youâd be getting a lot closer soon so he forced his breathing to stay level.
Jack used to consider himself quite smooth, still a natural flirt when he joked around with older patients or teased Robby.
But he was completely thrown off of any existing game when it came to you. He didnât even know he could still feel this way about somebody, the yearning and lustful feeling having been dormant for a long time before you moved in.
âIâll take whatever you give me.â Your voice was soft now and heâd never heard you like that, maybe a bit of a whine when you impatiently asked him to help you with something, but never so pleading.
Youâd shifted even closer as you spoke and he couldnât help himself now that he practically had permission, his large and rough hand sliding over your waist to rest on the small of your back.
You sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling and he was suddenly aware of how much fun this was going to be if you were that sensitive.
âNot tonight okay?â He replied and his low tone made your eyes soften, nodding eagerly and hesitantly letting your hands land on his chest in balled up fist. âWe can talk about it more later and work out some conditions.â
âYouâre giving me rules?â Youâd collected yourself enough to finally give him some of that familiar attitude, smiling slightly as you stared up at him. He rolled his eyes but let his hand tighten against your back, moving you forward and just trying to test your reaction to the touch.
You lost your smile immediately, shuffling closer until you were pressed against him as your eyes darted all around his face with surprise. It was clear you didnât expect him to accept at all let alone this easily, despite his two weeks of contemplation, he wasnât at all hesitate now.
âYou need them.â He retorted and his free hand brushed some of your hair behind your ear, the first time you were ever really touching each other being this intimate was sending another wave of affection through him.
A few years ago, Jack couldnât even get himself to look at another woman, let alone hold one so gently. Even with the slightly out of the ordinary circumstances, he cared for you and you trusted him and that was all that really mattered in his eyes.
âYouâre mean.â Youâre whispering it and his head tilts at the sound it, overly fond and curious how you can affect him so much just by changing the tone of your voice. âKiss me atleast.â
It comes out a demand and his eyebrows naturally furrow at the sound of it, knowing immediately that will have to be one of the rules he gives you when you talk them over.
Manners.
He doesnât respond for a second but you seem to understand before he even needs to scold you, lips parting in realization before they form a small pout and you unclench your fist so your palm is flat on his chest now instead.
âPlease give me a kiss Jack.â You sound sweeter now and he would think it was an act, making fun of him for his sudden silent sternness, if it wasnât for the genuinely pleading look on your face.
The knowledge that you listen so easily, even when he doesnât actually say it, overrides his senses so much that he actually does bend down to kiss you.
Itâs soft at first which you donât seem to understand, immediately trying to eagerly make out with him like thatâs all you really know. He moves one of his hands from your side to hold under your jaw, applying a little bit of pressure near your throat to indicate he wants you to slow down.
You melt against him at the touch but do as he silently communicates and relax a little bit, still moving your mouth a bit sloppily against his but learning to adapt to his slow and easy pace.
Eventually you get the rhythm down perfectly, lips moving together without anything extra added. You asked Jack to teach you so he was going to do exactly that, starting from the basics.
Your face was completely dazed when he pulled back, instinctively shifting forward to try and kiss him again and making a small disappointment noise when his hold near your throat tightened in warning.
âYou asked for a kiss.â He said in a low voice, still close to your face so he could perfectly see the way your widened eyes shifted around his features.
He was a bit mesmerized by the way you looked now, so unlike yourself on any other day. It both made his guilt over being perverse grow and also solidified that he didnât care how wrong it was as long as you kept looking at him like that.
âGet some sleep.â He waited a few seconds before taking the necessary steps away from you, taking a sharp breath as he turned and left your apartment.
His own door had barely closed behind him before there was insistent knocks on it, his head immediately hanging since he knew exactly who it was.
Your eyebrows were furrowed when he pulled the handle to reveal you in the hallway, standing stiffly and glaring up at him but not making any move to come inside. You shifted in place and let out a huff of annoyance as you seemed to search for the right words to convey what you wanted.
âCan you kiss me one more time?â You eventually settled on the blunt question, shifting closer so you were both halfway in his doorway.
While he had a foot inside his apartment still, you had one in the hallway. It left you standing too close for his sanity, feeling it slip almost entirely again when your small hand landed on his forearm and rubbed softly.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asked softly, sensing your frustration but not knowing where it was stemming from.
He cupped your face with one of his hands, letting the other rest back on your side. You stared up at him as he took a few slow steps forward, backing you up with each one until your back hit the doorframe and took a soft near gasp from your lips.
âNothing I justâŠâ You trail off as you pout, scanning over his face and then down his chest until you canât bend your head anymore to look. âI want one more. Please.â
You added it as an afterthought but it was enough for him, pressing his mouth back against yours.
This time, apparently a very quick learner, you were able to meet his pace right away and your mouths moved softly together. Your arms went around his neck so you could fully cling to him as you kissed deeply, heads tilting and quiet pleased noises rumbling in your throat.
You only got louder when his tongue pressed lightly into your mouth, mostly just to test your reaction but unable to stop himself when you were eagerly matching the actions.
It was sloppy and a little too wet, sounds of your tongues tangling together filling the silent hallway and sending a sharp heat down to his gut. He liked how clumsy you were, growing addicted to the way you seemed to have no idea what you were doing but too desperate to stop yourself and ask him for his help.
Jack knew he liked feeling needed but this was a whole different beast, one that came paired with some light shame.
You werenât innocent and you knew exactly what you needed to about sex but your body was inexperienced and it was getting clearer by the second, your little gasp when he kissed you deeper and the way you tightened your hold on him everytime he went to pull back and attempt to slow down.
Youâre red in the face by the time he manages to get you to stop eagerly kissing him, still instinctively shifting closer when he moves back. He gives you a lighthearted sigh, occupied by the softest smile he can manage so he doesnât actually hurt your feelings when he presses you back against the doorway with the hand thatâs still on your hip.
âTime for bed.â He tries to keep his tone light but it comes out more authoritative than he had meant for it to, most likely driven by the way you automatically started to frown as soon as he held you away from him. âWe can talk tomorrow.â
You clearly werenât happy about that but you surprisingly gave him a soft nod, shifting your body until you were out of his entrance and closer to your own.
He watched you and your dazed face, slightly wobbly on your feet, as you disappeared behind your apartment door with a small wave.
-
Jack had started off his day rough the following morning, barely able to sleep after what had happened.
It was a completely split mixture of wanting you so bad it was driving him to literal insanity and feeling disgustingly guilty for even looking in your direction.
He almost considered calling Robby about it but he really didnât need to hear the lecture that would undoubtedly come his way about the situation. Plus he figured that whatever Robby knew, Dana knew, and if Dana knew then it was only a matter of time before the entire emergency department was gossiping about Jack Abbot and his young neighbor.
The dilemma was so strong that he had almost completely forgotten about the fact he had told you that youâd talk today, although almost intentional.
He was halfway avoiding having to actually sit down and make this arrangement a reality, still having a hard time believing what had happened last night was even real.
He had just started to get changed for work when the knocking on his door started and he knew it was you immediately, standing still and hanging his head for a few seconds like he figured he could just wait you out.
It didnât take long for his senses to kick back in and he was pulling on a plain black shirt before making his way over to the door, raising his eyebrows at you when he saw how irritated you looked.
You brushed past him immediately and he lingered with his hand on the door knob for a moment before closing it and preparing himself to face whatever wrath you were about to send his direction.
âYou didnât come over.â You immediately accused, finger pointing in his direction as you stood in the middle of his living room with an angry expression. âYou didnât even text me.â
He was already walking closer to you as you spoke and your defenses naturally crumbled at the proximity, especially when his hands were sliding over your ribs to both hold you steady and let him feel your breathing as subtly as possible.
âYou canât just kiss me like that and then ignore me.â You continue on but your tone is a lot softer now that heâs touching you, already getting that dazed edge to it he had heard last night.
âI didnât mean to ignore you.â He shakes his head and frees a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, your features have completely softened now at the movement.
Jack wonders for the first time if you might have feelings for him beyond trust and attraction.
For some reason, he hadnât really considered the possibility before. You were practically his polar opposite and he had nothing in common with any of the boys you went on dates with.
But now, with you blinking up at him like you were hanging on to his every word, he let himself think it might just be likely.
âI figured you changed your mind.â Your words are a little slurred from the insistent pout you have on your face and he sighs again, gently leading you over to sit on his couch.
Your knees brush together as you scoot closer to him the second heâs settled on top of the cushion, your hand wrapping around three of his fingers and squeezing lightly as you wait for him to respond to your fear of being rejected.
âI didnât but I want to make sure you understand what youâre asking.â His voice is low and nearing stern, the same tone he uses on the new med students who seem a little more cocky than they are willing to learn. He knows thatâs not the case with you, knows youâre desperate for any expertise he can offer you, but he still wants you to pay attention and properly understand him. âThereâs other ways for you to do this.â
âWhat, like other guys?â Your eyebrows furrow like the thought confuses you.
His stomach tightens immediately, sick at the thought of it, but he stiffly nods his head.
Youâre shifting even closer immediately and he lets out a breath when youâre leaning over his knee nearly, closer to his face than before and scanning over it again.
âI donât want another guy Jack. I just want it to be you.â Youâre whispering now and he canât stop himself from pressing a light kiss to your mouth, brief but necessary when his brain processes the lack of distance between you. That makes you smile finally and he suddenly feels very stupid for ever questioning you when youâre making a request like this.
âTell me why.â He mumbles, easily sliding his hands around your middle so he can tug you over more and into his lap. You kiss him again once youâre settled in his lap, still quick like youâre both using it as punctuation during your conversation. âWhy me?â
He wants to hear you give a legitimate reason, to undo the hesitance you gave him when you said it was only because you didnât have anybody else to ask. Thatâd been weighing on him more than anything else, the thought that you had just settled for your older lonely neighbor who was clearly willing to help you with anything in spite of himself.
Your next kiss was much longer, deeper as you fully sink down in his lap and move your mouth against his desperately. Heâd accept that alone as an answer, big palms rubbing over your back and sides so he can keep pulling you impossibly closer.
Your nose is rubbing against his when you pull back, the sounds of your breathing being heavier now making his head spin with the necessary impulsivity to keep making terrible decisions with you.
âYouâd make me feel good.â The answer youâd landed on was much more devastating than he was prepared for, his eyes darkening at how confident you sounded in that fact. âI know you would.â
His hands tightened around your soft skin for a second, needing to take a deep breath to ground himself.
It takes a second for him to reply, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling sharply. You smell as sweet as you always do but itâs intoxicating to have it this close after so long, skin soft under his lips as he kisses you softly.
Your breathing gets shaky, arms looping around his neck so youâre practically hugging him. Youâre warm on top of him and making the sweetest noises when he moves along your jaw, shifting in his lap to try and get his attention back on your conversation.
âYouâll do it right?â You ask softly, running your hand through his hair and tugging just enough to make him finally look back at your face. His eyes are dark and unfocused as he stares at your pretty features. âJack?â
âYeah honey.â He says back after another long silence, voice deeper than heâd ever heard it as he leans in to kiss you again.
You kiss for a long time, wiggling around in his lap when your tongues tangle together and you get to taste him properly again. Itâs addicting for both of you, both of your hands running all over the otherâs body like youâre trying to learn every part of it you can reach.
Eventually youâre fully rocking against him from your neediness and it takes a second for him to process it, snapped back to focus when he hears the way your whines are getting higher pitched. A near growl leaves his throat as he grabs your hips firmly, thumbs pressing into the bone so he can stop you from moving on top of him like that.
âJackie.â You whine desperately, kissing him again and successfully distracting him long enough that you can start humping again.
âStop baby I have work soon.â He scolds in between the sloppy kisses, lips and chin slightly wet from how uncoordinated you still are.
You make another soft noise and heâs confused for half a second before he realizes itâs because of the pet name, smiling softly from his fondness for you as you hide down in his neck for a second.
âYouâre hard now, I can feel it.â Youâre whispering right against his skin and a shiver runs over him at the lewd words falling from such a pretty mouth, high pitched and almost innocent voice making the sentence sound so much dirtier than it needed to be.
At first Jack doesnât think youâre right, knowing himself and his body enough to expect heâs not stirring down there even if he wants you so bad it makes him feel insane.
Heâs had issues with it for years now, a deadly combination of his age, his traumas, and the carousel of medications he has to be on for a variety of things he wouldnât disclose to you out of his own pride. That was the reason Jack had stopped trying to hook up with people years ago, giving up on porn entirely when heâd have to spend an hour trying to get hard before he could even attempt to actually get himself off.
It was in the back of his mind when youâd asked him to help you with this but he figured this was about your pleasure, he wouldnât need to be hard to get you off especially if he stuck to his guns about not actually having sex with you.
He was sucking in a deep breath to explain this to you in less detail, make sure you understood that he wasnât hard but it had nothing to do with you or his attraction to you, when you gave a particularly deep and slow roll of your hips.
And the effect was completely undeniable.
A shudder ran over him, eyes dropping to his lap that you were still rocking on top of. Your tiny little shorts were so clearly pressing against the tent in his scrub pants, catching on it whenever you lost the energy to move properly as you let out another needy whine and hid back in his neck.
You were completely unaware of his current mental situation, baffled at how easily youâd gotten him to this state from just some sloppy kissing.
You mustâve thought he was ignoring you because you picked up your head to glare at him, a pout on your swollen lips.
âSorry sweetheart.â He sighed and kissed you gently, rubbing your sides up to your ribs and coming back down right when he felt the swell of your breast against his fingertips. âI really have to go.â
âLet me suck you off.â You requested easily and his breath caught, nearly choking at how simple you made it sound. âI wanna learn and youâre so hard right now Jackie. Please let me do it.â
âThatâs not the point of this.â He shook his head immediately and moved you by your hips so you were sat next to him and no longer settled in his lap, clearly upsetting you as you scrambled up on your knees and gripped his bicep so he couldnât get off the couch yet.
âThe point is to teach me things about sex and Iâll need to know this.â You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at why heâs rejecting you.
He finds it a little amusing that youâre so used to him accepting your requests for things that youâre genuinely lost when he doesnât immediately fold for you. Itâs a bratty habit he should have corrected months ago but he canât find himself caring too much, liking how dependent youâd become on him.
Jack has to contemplate this because he knows youâre right, stomach turning a little at the reminder that youâre going to use whatever he shows you on somebody else down the line.
That selfishly makes him want to cancel this whole thing and leave you completely clueless, hopefully to the point you decide to swear off sex with other men entirely. But he knows how stubborn you are and how stuck you get on something once it catches your attention, figuring youâd get on a dating app and find some idiot in finance to take your virginity as soon as he put an end to this arrangement.
So he lets you slip to your knees off the couch, taking his hesitance to decline again as a positive sign.
âWait.â He interjects and you freeze, sighing in annoyance as you prepare for him to give another reason you canât do it. Instead he pulls one of the pillows off the couch and slides in near his feet, your eyes softening as you shift so youâre kneeling on the plush cushion instead of the floor.
âHow do I start?â You ask softly, eyeing the bunched up fabric in front of you with interest. He has to stare at the ceiling for a second, slightly losing it at the sight of you kneeling on his floor between his legs. âDo I have to get you ready?â
âNo.â He says it gruffly and you tense again, his tone way sharper than heâd meant for it to be. âItâs⊠Iâm ready baby trust me. Just give me a second.â
That calms you down immediately, enough that you rest your head on his knee as you try your best to be patient. His eyes go back to you at the touch and he watches the way you squirm against the pillow, clearly still riled up from the kissing and maybe even the thought of taking him in your mouth.
âHas it been awhile Jack?â Your voice is ridiculous now, clearly teasing him and developing this soft purr that almost irritates him.
His hand goes into your hair at the sound of it, tightening enough that you lift your cheek off his knee and stare up at him with wide eyes.
âWatch it.â He says lowly, using his free hand to untie his scrub pants as you eye the movement with fascination. Your lips part as you stare at his hand and the way his fingers twist the strings, he has half the thought to make you choke on the digits before you try and take anything bigger but your attitude has left him feeling just as impatient. âWeâve got to work on your manners if you want me to teach you.â
That makes you snap back into focus, frowning at his words and shaking your head as you straighten up on your knees.
âI have manners Jack.â Youâre clearly trying to convince him, small hands smoothing over his thighs.
He starts to deny it but heâs cut off when you lean forward to nuzzle against him, face pressing right where heâs currently aching under two layers of fabric. His breath catches in his throat and he instinctively tightens the hand thatâs in your hair, mumbling out an apology when you make a pained noise but barely loosening it after.
He feels like he needs to keep it there to have any sort of control in this situation, especially given the way youâre almost desperately rubbing your face on his lap.
âShouldâve told me you were this needy.â He half scolds as he shifts his waistband down lower, waiting for you to notice and pick yourself up just long enough to get his pants down.
You donât give him long at all before youâre back to obsessing over the sight in front of you, eyes fully dazed now that itâs just his boxers separating you from putting your mouth on his hard length.
Youâre clearly trying to be patient in an attempt to prove you have any sort of manners, a little pride rippling through him similar to the feeling he got when you had corrected yourself the other night to politely ask him for a kiss.
âYou wouldnât have done anything about it.â You say softly, not accusatory but confident in it like you know itâs true. You lean forward and kiss against the covered bulge, a groan leaving him. âYouâre too good of a guy.â
âClearly not.â He rasped just as you start to lose that faux patience youâre trying so hard to pretend you have, tugging at the waistband of his underwear and smiling softly when he lifts his hips off the couch without arguing. âAnd you know I never tell you no sweetheart.â
âYeah?â Youâre still trying to talk to him but now youâre completely lost in the sight of him half naked and sitting there with his legs spread in front of you, too desperate to even be intimidated by the size of him. âYou wouldâve let me do this months ago Jackie?â
He sighs and tightens his hold in your hair again, bringing you forward until he can feel your breath where heâs most sensitive.
Your eyes flicker up to him and the sight is devastating for how deprived heâs been, a pretty young girl like you sitting so nicely on your knees for the first time ever. He can barely even feel that guilt and slightly sick sensation, knowing how perverted it is that he could probably get off just looking at your face and thinking about the way heâs about to corrupt you.
âStop talking.â He instructs gruffly and you nod eagerly, eyes back on his length and only now looking a little nervous as you swallow before your lips part in anticipation. âYou sure you want to do this?â
âWant it so bad.â You donât hesitate to answer and your voice is a little whinier, swaying forward like you donât even realize youâre doing it.
Jack lets you move until youâre right there, eyes locked on your face as you give him a nervous look and try to take him in your mouth.
Itâs awkward and youâre tense, expression full of hesitation like youâre waiting for him to tell you how to do it properly but he lets himself bask in this for a few seconds.
He knows itâs sick but he finds you the most beautiful like this, confused and desperate to please him without knowing how to. You go between sucking and licking at the tip of his length and while it feels good, no doubt about that especially after how long itâs been, itâs nothing compared to how clearly inexperienced you are.
Finally, he snaps out of his sick fantasies of watching you embarrass yourself trying to please him, and he decides to actually do what youâd asked and teach you something.
âRelax your jaw baby. Just take what you can okay?â His voice is low and gentle, hand loose in your hair but clenching into a tight fist whenever you brush against his sensitive skin with your teeth on accident or try to overachieve and take him deeper.
You do seem to calm down a little now that heâs finally speaking, shoulders slumping and your eyes fluttering shut as you get used to the feeling of him on your tongue.
Youâve barely taken him at all but heâs transfixed by the sight, perfectly content to sit here and cock warm your mouth until you were ready to move him down your throat.
He watches you closely as you pull back to take a few deep breaths, pouting a little at his length and hesitating before youâre touching him with your hand. Itâs all experimental, tugging and feeling the skin against your palm while he grunts above you and tries to control himself.
Itâs barely sexual on your end considering how fascinated you are by the new experience but heâs halfway losing his mind knowing this is the first time youâre touching somebody like this.
âI gotta go soon sweetheart.â He says and your eyes finally snap back up to him, turning a little red considering youâd been caught just staring at his length as you touched him. âYou can play with me all you want after my shift.â
Now youâre full on blushing but you nod your head obediently and lean back in to take him in your mouth again, a little more confident now as you lick around the head and repeat movements whenever it draws a sound out from him.
Jack can barely stand it and he has to put both hands in your hair to keep himself from fucking up into your warm mouth, groaning from the effort itâs taking and considering telling you to get back on the couch before he goes too far with you too early.
Youâre clearly just as impatient because you try to take more of him finally and immediately gag at the sensation, pulling back and frowning up at him.
âHelp Jackie.â Your voice is whiny and has a little rasp to it now and he kisses his teeth at the sound, petting your hair back out of your face.
âI canât help with that baby, youâve just got to practice.â He tries his best to soothe you but youâre clearly frustrated.
âCanât you just force my head down?â Youâre rubbing his thighs as you speak in that ridiculously bratty voice, wiggling around on the pillow like the thought alone is exciting you.
He wants to say no, wants to tell you why itâs such a terrible idea for him to forcefully fuck your throat right before he has to go to work. Thereâs a million reasons he should be rejecting you right now but that sick voice in the back of his head is struggling to get the words out, especially when you go back to softly kitten licking at his length to keep him hard.
âFuck youâre nasty.â He gruffs out and your eyes light up at the words, nodding your head and taking him back in your mouth as you keep trying your best to fit him deeper. âYou want me in your throat that bad?â
You canât talk now but your desires are obvious.
He eyes the way youâre shifting on the cushion below you, adjusting his foot the best he can so itâs between your thighs as you kneel. That seems to make you even more desperate, rubbing against him almost feverishly now as you try to focus on having him in your mouth.
Thereâs no option to do so when he brings his hands back to your hair, silently showing you he accepts your request when he moves his hips off the couch and keeps your face firmly in place so he can push deeper down your throat.
He feels you gag slightly around him but your eyes roll to the back of your head at the same time and you hump against his foot even faster so he canât find it in himself to stop, thrusting slowly to make sure you donât end up getting sick or feeling too sore by the time heâs finished.
Jack knows this is far beyond teaching, heâs not even speaking anymore and instead just using your throat to get himself off but youâre even more eager for it than him and heâd never deny you anything you asked for.
âThis tiny little throat.â His voice is nearing a growl as he helps move your head up and down his length, reveling in the way you gag and drool around him. âYouâre doing so good baby.â
The praise seems to do it for you more than anything else, rubbing your core against his foot so eagerly that you can barely focus on sucking him off. Youâre getting too messy to control yourself, mouth slipping off every few thrust before you whine at the loss and immediately take him back in your throat.
Jack takes pity on both of you, both for his own sanity and because he canât stop thinking about the fact heâll need to leave as soon as this is done.
Youâre clearly upset when he pulls you off, making a loud noise of disagreement that barely sounds like an actual word and frowning at him when he sends you a stern look and wraps his hand around himself instead.
You seem to forget your anger pretty quickly as you watch him touch himself, hips slowed down to a slow rock against his foot as you stare at his length and the way heâs making himself feel good above you.
Jack has to look away when he comes because he feels pretty close to forcing your head back down and making you swallow it, although half positive youâd actually enjoy that more than him judging by how eager you are to try things.
Youâre laying your head back on his thigh while he grunts and curses, tightening his fist and going back to staring at your face just for a brief moment so he has a clearer picture to think about.
Itâs quiet in the living room afterwards and he feels an odd sense of embarrassment, a rare vulnerability considering youâre still fully clothed and kneeling on the floor. He fixes one of those problems by effortlessly pulling you up by your arms, settling you back against the cushions.
He stands and pulls his pants up while he does so, knowing heâll have to shower off before he can go to work and get a new pair of scrubs anyways.
Thereâs a second of hesitation before he goes to get you some water, leaning over your dazed frame and kissing you softly.
âWas it good?â You ask quietly against his mouth, hand tangling in his hair like you donât want him to go anywhere without answering you first. âYou stopped me.â
âYou were perfect.â He answers simply and he means it, would probably feel the same if you had accidentally bit him though.
âI wanted to taste you.â Youâre pouting again and every time he thinks he gets used to you, you prove him beyond wrong. He sighs and leans further against you on the couch so youâre fully sinking into the cushion below you.
âNext time.â
It comes out before he can stop it and he fully plans to backtrack but your eyes light up at the idea of him letting you do that again so he doesnât, letting it linger for a few seconds.
âNot when I have to leave you right after. You wonât like it and I donât want to hurt you.â Heâs talking in the stern and no nonsense way he does at work, trying to make sure you understand even though youâre slowly starting to smile as he speaks and he realizes youâre probably not paying any attention.
âYou wonât hurt me Jack.â You whisper and itâs so sweet he almost considers calling in so he can stay with you a little longer. âNot in a way I wonât like.â
That makes him scoff out a laugh, a rare sound from him and you look even more pleased at the noise.
âYou donât even know what you like sweetheart.â He says softly and brushes your hair out of your face, letting both his fingertips and eyes trail down your neck until he reaches your collarbones. âBut Iâll show you.â
âYouâll show me?â Youâre teasing him now, biting your bottom lip to try and hide your smile to no avail.
âYeah I will.â He smiles too and kisses you again, a little too soft considering what you actually are to each other.
He eventually manages to get off of you long enough to get you some water, watching carefully as you take a few sips and rubbing your knee when you wince at first. He wants to feel guilty for making your throat sore but he canât, sick enough to admit he just feels the urge to make you take him deeper next time to see if youâll really let him.
Youâre still laying on his couch when he gets out of his brief shower, having changed his pants and taken a few deep breaths while staring in the mirror to try and get ahold of himself. He needs to switch back to reality for atleast a few hours, become the weathered doctor who doesnât lose his mind over a pretty girl asking for favors.
You set your phone down on your chest, giving him your full attention as he moves towards the door to tug his shoes on.
Thereâs no indication you plan to leave before he does but he canât find it in himself to mind the intrusion, going back over to the couch to give you a kiss on the forehead.
âStaying here?â He says in a low voice and you nod eagerly, eyes locked on his.
He lets himself think about his entire way to work, the image of you being there when he gets home from a hard shift. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to and having you across the hall was already a gift within itself.
Now youâd crossed a line and if he let himself forget the terms and conditions, the fact you were loosely using him just to end up with somebody else as the actual end goal, then he could pretend for a moment that you were the person he got to crawl into bed with when work was tough.
Despite how much he thought about you during his shift, every moment he wasnât being bombarded with questions or saving somebodyâs life on autopilot, you werenât actually there when he came back.
He knew it before he even opened the door, confirmed by how neatly the pillows on the couch were placed again and the fact your glass of water was rinsed and put away in the dishwasher.
Youâd made it look like you were never even there and he knew you still enjoyed his company, maybe enjoyed the newly added sexual dynamic even more, but that didnât mean you wanted to comfort him after he lost a patient or help soothe him when his leg was bothering him from standing all day.
Jack had to remind himself of the part he was playing in your life currently and try his best to not be disappointed.
Itâs two days until he sees you again and he thinks itâs one of the longest spans youâve gone without talking in almost a year.
Heâs just about to start really acting out of character by banging at your front door and asking if youâre avoiding him when he runs into you downstairs, freezing as soon as he enters the lowly lit laundry room to find you leaning against one of the washers and looking extremely bored.
Youâre as beautiful as always, casually dressed in nothing but an old band shirt that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of shorts so small heâs pretty sure itâs just boxy underwear.
You donât look up when he comes in until his leg slightly catches on the step, accustomed enough to the sound of the light dragging he sometimes canât stop from happening when heâs extra tired.
Itâs a relief to find that you donât have any awkwardness on your face, no sign of being uncomfortable or upset with him.
Then he figures that might just be worse.
He would just about die if he had done anything that made you want to avoid him but the alternative seems to be that you just didnât want to speak to him and that makes his chest sting.
Thereâs nothing but silence and the rattling of the old washer as it rocks back and forth on the cement floor, both of you seemingly having decided to not speak to each other first.
(sorry for the brief awkward spacing tumblr says this is too long)
Itâs another five minutes of the now awkward stretch of quiet before you clear your throat, turning to face him where heâs fidgeting with his laundry baskets broken handle just to have something to focus on.
âSo I went on a date last night.â You say softly, eyebrows raised like youâre genuinely interested in his reaction.
His stomach turns but itâs a relief to have you looking at him again so he takes it, swallowing hard and racking his brain for a response thatâs appropriate.
âHowâd it go?â Heâs asking out of politeness but heâs silently praying you suddenly decide you donât want to tell him about it. It wouldnât even make him feel better to hear it had ended terribly, not wanting you to feel any type of negative emotions even if it technically was in his benefit.
He definitely canât take any sort of mention of you being with another guy physically. He knows itâs coming eventually, itâs the sole purpose behind why he even gets to touch you, but heâs not ready just yet.
Youâre quiet again and he really looks at you now, takes in the silent contemplation on your face and the way you tap your fingers on the metal of the washer for a second before pushing off of it entirely.
Then youâre in his space again and itâs like an instinctive move to cup your face, hand on your waist so he can lightly push you back against the machine heâd been in front of. You touch his chest, lightly rubbing in soft circles, and he wants to sigh in relief if that wouldnât be so painfully obvious.
âWasnât a great time.â You whisper and your eyes are on his lips as you speak.
His eyebrows raise and his hand on your body tightens slightly at the same time he uses his thumb to press under your chin and make you tilt your jaw back.
âWhy not?â He hates the thought of getting details but he needs to know some idiot from a dating app hadnât done anything to hurt you.
You donât answer right away, just standing there and letting your eyes scan over his features on rotation. You finally let out a small breath like youâre about to speak but it never comes, small hands moving to grip his biceps.
âDid he touch you?â He canât stop himself from asking even though the question makes his voice come out low enough that your eyes flash with surprise for a second, snapping away from his mouth to meet his stare again like youâre looking for something in it.
You shake your head immediately, squeezing his arms and shifting against the vibrating machine.
Heâs kissing you then and he tells himself itâs out of relief, the knowledge that youâre still untouched by anybody except for him instantly making this conversation easier.
Youâre returning it right away and heâs pleasantly surprised by how quickly you caught on to the type of kissing he likes, his personal preference. He figures he should eventually tell you that not ever guy was going to like your constant licking into his mouth but for now he lets it be, wants you to be trying to please him specifically and not whoever youâd use these lessons with.
Itâs ridiculously cute how desperate you get, only needing a few seconds of your tongue inside his mouth before youâre arching off the machine and making soft noises against his lips.
His hands are all over you as soon as he notices the state of you, sliding down to cup your ass with both palms and tug you tighter to his frame.
That makes you out rightly whimper, clumsily trying to hitch a leg around his waist and sighing in relief when he holds your thigh to keep it there. The wet sounds of your mouths fill the small room, body slightly shaking both from need and from the way the washer is vibrating against your back.
âMissed you.â You whimper it out when he pulls back to let you breathe, kissing down your jaw and tightening his grip on the soft curve hidden under your underwear. âDidnât call me.â
âWere you waiting for me to call baby?â He asks softly, despite how much it had been bothering him, he would never want to make you feel guilty for not reaching out to him after what youâd done.
You donât answer so he pulls his head out of your neck to look at your face, seeing the soft frown and the hesitation in your eyes.
âHey.â He breaths out and pushes your hair back to get your attention fully on him, your body softening and completely leaning against his to the point youâd definitely fall if he took a step backwards. âI wanted to give you space. Let you decide when you wanted to continue this, if you did.â
âI donât want space.â You counter and itâs a little past bratty but heâs so beyond fond of you that he canât help but let the corners of his mouth turn up at the sound of it. âYouâre supposed to take care of me.â
Heâs not sure when your dynamic became this way but he feels it as much as you apparently do, knows itâs his duty to make sure youâre always fine and not needing anything he canât fix. Now thereâs the added element of making you feel good, touching you in ways youâre not used to and showing you what pleasure can be like, and heâs not taking it lightly.
âThen Iâll call.â He say softly and your eyes lock on his as you nod in agreement, his hand cupping your cheek so he can keep you still enough to kiss you briefly. âYou want me to chase you and Iâll chase you.â
âRight now I just want you to kiss me.â You whisper and he doesnât need to hear anything else.
Youâre back to kissing and itâs feverish now, more tongue than anything and your hands groping each other anywhere you can touch.
Heâs lifting you up off the ground just so he can press himself between your legs and swallow the soft needy noises you let out at the feeling, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist so he canât pull away at all. Youâre pressed back against the metal with his hands under your shirt and wrapped around your frame to make sure you donât fall, thick fingers splayed out against your ribs.
Itâs getting hotter in the room and itâs mostly due to the way youâre whining and trying to roll your hips into him, unsuccessful considering how hard heâs got you pinned back to the washer.
âJack please.â You pant and pull away from his mouth, tucking into his neck and rubbing your soft cheek against his stubble like a needy cat. âPlease touch me. Do anything.â
Heâs grunting at the request and gently setting you back down on your feet so he can free up a hand, using it to push your shirt up to your neck. Heâs not too surprised to find that youâre not wearing anything underneath and your surprised gasp swallows the sound of his low groan.
Youâre whining lewdly when he leans down to press kisses against your skin, middle of your breast first to avoid putting his mouth where you really want it. Youâre panting, chest rising and falling under his mouth, and tangling a hand in his ash colored curls to try and steer him where you need him.
He wants to smack your hand away and warn you to be patient but he wants you too bad to try and discipline you right now, letting his mouth latch onto to one of your hard nipples so he can hear whatever noise that brings out of you.
Itâs loud and intoxicating, his head spinning a little as he keeps sucking and licking your skin, letting your shirt rest on the top of his head so he can use his other hand to roughly grope your other breast and make sure youâre getting equal attention.
âOh fuck Jack.â Youâre whimpering and trying to hump against nothing, back arching as you whine and hold him to your body like he has any plans of getting away from you. âT-that feels so good.â
âCome upstairs.â His voice is so rough it surprises himself, picking his head off your chest and letting your shirt drop so he can kiss you swiftly.
You frown at the loss of contact, rubbing your nose against his and still lightly petting his hair.
âWhy not here?â You ask softly and he gives you a disapproving look that makes you sigh and rest your forehead down against his shoulder for a few seconds while you catch your breath. âItâs too far.â
He thinks for a moment before heâs adjusting his stance to pick you up off the ground, abandoning your laundry and his that both likely need to be switched out soon. Heâd gladly let it sit and wash it again later if it means getting you up to his apartment as fast as possible.
You make a small surprised noise and cling to him, arms behind his neck and legs wrapped around his middle and he makes his way up the few stairs towards the elevators.
âJack your leg.â The sight of the steps seems to remind you of his disability and heâd be more irritated by your worry if it didnât sound so genuine.
You clearly donât ever think too much about his leg restricting him, never shying away from asking him to lift heavy things or walk with you down to the store. You donât treat him like heâs fragile or any less of a man for having limitations and heâs always liked that about you, same way he somehow likes your gentle concern even though it would have bothered him if it was anybody else.
âThink I canât throw you around because of my leg?â He mumbles and you tense in his hold as he walks like you think he might be serious before youâre breathing out a laugh and hiding in his neck.
Jack finally gets back to his apartment, going crazy from the way youâd started to kiss his jaw and whine impatiently in the elevator. Your hands run up and down his arms like youâre marveling at the strength it takes to carry you for as long as he was, making soft needy noises and squirming around.
He canât even care about the possibility somebody could see him with you, one of the neighbor heâd lived next to for years watching as Jack Abbot carries the much younger girl next door through his entry way as she whines for him to touch her more.
âCalm down baby.â His voice is soft once he gets to his room, setting you down on his bed and taking a few seconds to stare at you as you lay there and pout up at him.
Youâre the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen and his gut twists a little at the observation, a mixture of desperate unfamiliar need and the same guilt from before accompanied by a new layer of it.
He thinks of his wife for the first time in a while. He used to spend every waking second with her on his mind but she had naturally started to fade from his mind once he met you, something he hadnât even noticed until youâd already been living across the hall for a few months.
Youâd came over for the first time and asked him to borrow some ingredients, strolling around his living room and eyeballing the photos on his walls while he poured some sugar into a small tupperware bowl for you to take back to your place. You had turned to him with a curious face and asked him where his wife was, obviously confused considering youâd never heard of her before despite how frequently you and him small talked.
That was the first time Jack noticed how little heâd been thinking of her lately, not just in the painful mourning way heâd been suffering through since she passed but in general too.
Now he was waking up in the morning and anticipating the next time youâd knock on his door, focusing on his health again so he could occupy you on your walks and not picking up too many extra shifts at work just incase you needed something and he wasnât there.
Jack was thinking about her again now as you laid on his bed but only because he couldnât remember the last time he had wanted something this bad, trying to compare the feeling of you to how he felt in his marriage and still thinking it fell short.
He had loved his wife, undoubtedly, but he craved you in a way that almost felt inhumane.
âYouâre being mean to me.â You say softly to break him out of his trance, having zoned out just staring down at you and the way your chest was rising and falling with every deep breath.
âIâm never mean to you honey.â He whispers back and finally moves to lay down with you, hovering over your frame and running a hand from your waist to your ribs as he kisses you softly. âI take good care of you, donât I?â
Itâs a bit mean to throw your words from earlier back in your face, especially as he lets his mouth trail down your neck. You make a whiny noise and grip his shoulders, nodding your head and shifting under him so your legs are spread further.
âYes Jack yes, you take care of me.â Youâre practically whimpering and he feels almost drunk from how easily you get this needy, pausing his soft kisses to shift up on his knees and tug your shirt over your head.
Youâre the prettiest sight heâs ever seen and he canât help himself from bringing his mouth right back to your chest, drinking in the way you gasp and moan while heâs licking and sucking on your nipples. His other hand is softly groping whichever breast he doesnât have his mouth on at the moment and your backs arching off his bed, scratching his shoulders through his shirt.
âPlease touch me.â Youâre begging after only a few minutes of the slow torture and he lets out a sharp breath, shifting so heâs more to the side of you than on top.
Youâre quiet when he rubs his hand down your chest and over your stomach, rubbing at the waistband of your underwear for a few seconds just to hear the way you pant before heâs smoothing over your thighs.
Your back is basically against his chest as he hooks your leg over his to make sure yours are nice and spread for him, kissing your neck softly when he rubs your hips above your underwear.
You bare your neck for him easily and heâs selfish in the way he marks you, sucking any part of your warm skin he can reach so youâre left purple and red all over. He wants anybody you see for the next week or two to know youâve been with somebody else, to see the claim he laid to your body even if he doesnât let things go as far as you want him to take it.
Jack doesnât need to be asked twice to touch you, big hand leaving your hip so he can fully palm your core.
Your reaction is just the way he had hoped it would be, sharp gasp leaving your lips as you instantly buck up against his touch. You whine desperately when he goes back to rubbing your thigh instead, giving you a second to work yourself up to the point he wants you to be at.
âJack.â You donât even sound like yourself now and itâs intoxicating, so pleading and broken. âPlease.â
âPlease what?â Heâs practically whispering, perfectly calm and the direct opposite of how broken you sound just from him lightly touching you.
He moves you so youâre fully between his legs, back against his chest as he cages himself around you to keep you from moving.
Youâre practically shaking, whimpering and moving your hips against nothing with the hopes heâll cave and end up touching you again. Youâre distracting to look at, body bare except for the pathetic excuse of underwear shorts youâd been wearing under your shirt, like youâd just been hoping he would be the one to find you in the laundry mat.
He has half the thought to make fun of you for that, make you tell him exactly what you were thinking when you left your apartment wearing so little, but he doesnât think you could handle him saying much at all right now especially not something so demeaning.
âIâm going to touch you.â He says gently instead and kisses the side of your head, letting his hand go back to groping your chest just to make sure you stay worked up.
Even though he doubts at this point he even needs to touch you for that to happen.
âYeah yeah.â Youâre nodding in agreement, seemingly pleased at his decision as you relax back against him and let him touch you freely.
His other hands back between your legs now, letting you get used to the feeling of somebody touching you where youâre most sensitive. Heâs just rubbing back and forth, listening to the way you pant and pulling back whenever you start to try and shift against his hand on your own.
âYouâre wet just from that?â His voice is a little mean now but you donât seem to mind, trying to clamp your thighs around his hand but being stopped by the sharp swat he sends to your skin. You wince but move your foot back to the other side of his leg so yours stay open, pouting softly at the silent punishment. âAnswer me when I ask you something.â
âIâm always wet around you.â You admit with an embarrassed tone lacing your words, squirming like you wish you could hide yourself from the way heâs staring down at your body. âWant you so bad.â
âI want you too.â He kisses the side of your head, still rubbing you with just enough pressure to make you feel the friction but not to actually get off. âGonna make you feel so good, youâve just got to be patient.â
âStop being scared to hurt me.â Your voice is shaky but as firm as possible, trying to show him youâre a big girl and can handle a little bit of the roughness heâs so clearly holding back.
Itâs obvious in the way he was grabbing your throat your first kiss, moving your body around easily whenever he needed to, and scolding you just enough for you to be able to catch the mean tone seeping in accidentally.
Jack clearly has a darker side to him that heâs not letting you see and itâs obviously frustrating you, wanting to be taken seriously.
âIâll hurt you if thatâs what you want sweetheart but not for your first time.â His words donât leave any room for argument so you donât even try, sinking back against his firm chest and letting out a deep breath when he shifts behind you and presses himself forward.
Itâs not long before youâre not able to wait anymore and he lets you scramble to tug down your underwear, keeping his fingers lightly rubbing between your folds and watching as you struggle to get the fabric past his insistent hand.
Eventually he lets you pull them off and then heâs right back to touching you, bare this time. You both suck in a breath at the contact and youâre practically laying down from how far youâd slid down his chest, spreading your legs as wide as they can go and whimpering while he touches you.
âDo you touch yourself like this baby?â He canât help the curiosity, the image of you in your bed trying to get yourself off stuck in his mind now.
You shake your head and frown, trying to twist your neck to look at him but being stopped when he uses his free hand to roughly grip your chin and make you keep your eyes on the way heâs touching you, thumb on your sensitive clit now while you roll your hips the best you can.
âNo IâŠâ You can barely think let alone speak, clearly struggling as you make a pained and desperate noise. âI get nervous.â
Jack sighs and collects some of your wetness on his middle finger before finally pressing it against the tightness of your hole, not pushing in just yet but teasing it with light pressure and letting you get used to the feeling.
âWhen youâre with somebody, they should always be this gentle with you at first.â Heâs saying softly, remembering that heâs supposed to be actually teaching you something and not just getting you off because he desperately wants to.
You frown deeply as he starts to talk and he doesnât really understand why, thinks maybe youâre still being pouty that he wonât get rougher with you.
He tries to distract you by finally pressing a finger inside of you and it seems to work for a second, another gasp leaving you as you instinctively clench around the intrusion. He groans, his length throbbing against your back at the thought of being fully inside you instead of just a finger.
âFuck youâre tight.â He rasps and buries his face in your hair for a few seconds to try and collect himself enough to keep teaching you something, anything at all so he doesnât keep letting himself think this is something it isnât. âTheyâll have to really get you stretched before anything okay? You need to remember that baby.â
It bothers him so much he can barely focus, the thought of somebody not taking their time with you. He doesnât want to picture you with another man in general but especially not in a way that hurts you, leaves you too sore the next morning with nobody to take care of you.
Heâs so distracted by his own thoughts that he doesnât notice your face stiffening at first, body a little tenser against him even though youâre still softly squirming to try and get him to put his finger deeper inside you.
âJack stop.â
He does so immediately and goes to pull out of you before youâre making a panicked noise and closing your thighs around his hand. He lets you this time, pauses all movements just to wait for whatever it is that you need.
âN-no donât stop that, god please donât stop that.â Your voice is breathier now like the thought of him taking his hand away from you makes your chest tighten. âJust⊠stop talking about anyone else.â
It takes him a few seconds to register that and then his hands moving again, enough for you to relax and spread your legs back open.
Youâre both quiet now as he adds another finger, lingering in the weight of your request and what it could mean if anything. Heâs half sure you only asked because it was pulling you out of the moment, maybe making you nervous to think about doing this again with actual stakes, but the way you desperately tried to stop him from pulling away lets him pretend it was for another reason.
Heâs selfish in the way he touches you now, thick fingers moving in and out of you while you cry and whine, gripping at his forearm whenever it feels like too much. He likes the way your nails dig into his arm when you think you might be close, thighs clenching and shifting when his thumb gently circles your swollen clit and how your lips part in breathy cries of his name.
He especially likes that.
You come with moans of his name filling the room and nobody elseâs after youâd specifically asked him to stop mentioning other guys. Jack knows itâs selfish, even a little sick and perverted, but he could probably finish just from hearing that.
Heâs throbbing against your back and heâs sure youâd be able to feel it if you were able to focus on anything after coming, body shaking a little as you pant endlessly and fall limb in his hold.
Thereâs a lot of softness that comes after, kissing the side of your head and being gentle in the way he cleans you up. Itâs torture to be between your legs and getting to fully appreciate the sight of you for the first time without be able to touch you more but he doesnât want to overstimulate you so early on.
He does let himself think about that vividly though, kissing against your thighs and picturing when heâs going to be able to put his mouth on you.
Youâre quiet above him, eyes a little tired but still overly soft as you run your fingers through his hair and watch him wipe you down.
Then heâs back ontop of you and kissing you softly, shifting your back so youâre laying back against the pillows and not sitting up. Itâs soft and bordering on romantic which makes his chest tighten, hoping you have no plans to leave his bed anytime soon.
âYou okay?â He asks quietly against your mouth and he can feel you smiling, still touching his hair with one hand and letting the other drift down to the back of his neck.
âFelt so good.â You whisper back and your voice is a little hoarse from all the whining youâd been doing, nose bumping against his and then rubbing on his stubble for a few seconds. âCan I take a nap here?â
âYou can do anything you want.â He says immediately, no hesitation as he gets up to get you one of his shirts and help you get comfortable, jumping at the opportunity to keep you with him just like he wanted.
Jack typically has a hard time sleeping through the night in general so he definitely never naps, needing to be truly past the brink of exhaustion to ever rest.
Yet he finds it to be the most simple thing in the world to crawl into his bed with you after taking off his leg, kissing you for a few more minutes before heâs wrapping you in his arms and tugging you back against his chest. Heâs rubbing your stomach softly, hand under the shirt heâs given you, listening intently until he hears your breathing even out and then drifting to sleep right after you.
â
Itâs one of the highlights of his decade to get to wake up with you still there, warm and making soft tired noises when you feel him start to stir.
His room is dark now other than the slight illumination coming from the moon outside of his window, casting just enough light for him to be able to watch your eyes flutter open.
You give him a soft sleepy smile and instinctively lean in to give him a kiss.
Itâs easy to pretend that you are more than whatever this is when you act like this, mouths moving together sensually as if you have nowhere else youâd want to be.
Jack groans softly when your tongue pushes into his mouth, meeting it eagerly with his own and moving so hes hovering over you. Your hands are on his back, spreading your legs below him to let him slot between them.
He feels like a teenager again from how quickly he gets hard, your soft body under his putting him under some sort of spell. His hips shift and you let out a needy whine, scratching his shoulders lightly like youâre trying to encourage him.
Youâre still making out slowly when he starts to thrust down against you, slow rolls of his hips to give you just enough friction to start to get desperate.
Youâre tugging at his shirt fabric and he takes only a second to sit up and pull it over his head, back on you immediately and kissing you even more frantically. Heâs moving your own shirt up towards your ribs but neither one of you wants to stop long enough to take it off, only able to when you need a quick second to take a breath.
Itâs the first time youâve both been nearly undressed together and he feels the effects of it instantly, your chest pressing against his when he lays back over you. Your skin is soft and hot to the touch, those now familiar soft whines leaving you when he lets his hand knead at your chest again.
âJack please.â Youâre whimpering and he finally stops kissing you in favor of sucking at your neck, bringing those marks from earlier back to the surface. âCanât you just fuck me?â
He groans at the words and has to tuck his face in your shoulder, still rocking his hips against you even though they stuttered when you said that in that whiny voice of yours.
âTrust me, I want to fuck you so bad I canât even think.â It leaves his mouth before he can stop it, not wanting to reject you again without making sure you know how badly he wants you.
âThen do it.â Youâre begging now and he picks his head up to look at you, eyes wide and a little frustrated like you know heâs going to say no. You gasp when he thrusts down even harder, biting your lip as you stare at each other desperately. âPlease Jack? Want you inside me.â
âI canât baby.â He growls and kisses you to give himself a second to think without you arguing.
Youâre quick to forget you were trying to convince him of something because youâre kissing him back deeply, angling your head so his tongue can get further and further inside your mouth.
He has that sick and perverted thought again that heâs coincidentally training you to be the perfect girl for him, kissing in a way he likes and not knowing how else to do it. Jack is selfish and wants everything you do to be for him, wants your body to instinctively move and react how he taught you regardless of who gets you next.
The thought of somebody else makes him want to forget his morals and fuck you like youâre begging him, be the one to take your virginity and fill you up for the first time.
He starts to reason with himself that it would actually be a good thing because Jack would never let himself hurt you in a way you didnât like, heâd make sure you felt good around him and came so hard you werenât able to see straight.
Thereâs nobody else who could fuck you like he could so heâs almost convinced himself that itâs a good idea when your phone rings on the nightstand.
You both stop, youâre completely tense under him and he sighs as he kisses you one more time and rolls off of you.
He lays there on his back as you sit up to grab your phone, screen a little too bright in the dark room and causing you to wince. He stares at your pretty face under the light as you open it up and answer it, not thinking much about the interruption despite the small disappointment he feels.
His hand is on your bare knee and rubbing your skin is soft circles, soothing both you and himself by keeping the contact.
âHello?â Your voice is as soft and sweet as always, a little confused sounding which makes his eyebrows raise. âOh Carter.â
Jack tenses up at the sound of a males name leaving your lips, his hand freezing and falling still on your knee. Youâre avoiding looking at him as you listen to whoever it is speak on the other line, a deep voice bleeding through the speakers just enough for him to hear but not enough to make out the words.
âTonight?â Your eyes go to the small digital clock on Jacks side of the bed, having to glance over his body in the process. You meet his eyes just for a second before theyâre darting away again and it makes the pit in his stomach grow in understanding. âOf course I didnât forget. Iâll be ready by nine.â
Youâre hanging up after a quiet goodbye and now itâs suffocatingly silent in the room.
Youâre still sitting up with your legs crossed under you, avoiding looking at him like youâre not still wearing his shirt and covered in marks heâd given to you. He waits for a minute before heâs sitting up and running a hand over his face, on the opposite side of the bed from you and facing the wall so you canât see his expression when he finally gets himself to speak.
âYouâve got a date tonight?â He rasps out, trying his best to sound unaffected even though it comes out low and tight.
âI forgot.â You whisper back and you sound further away now, a glance over his shoulder confirms that youâd stood up off the bed and are searching for the shirt youâd shown up in so you can swap out of his. âHeâs taking me to some art show downtown.â
Jack stares at you as you move around the room, eyes scanning over your body when you pull his shirt over your head and neatly fold it before putting it on his dresser. It feels really final to watch you change back into your own clothes, turning to meet his eyes and letting out a soft sigh when you see heâs already watching you closely.
He hopes it doesnât show on his face, doesnât want to be too obvious that heâs probably about two seconds away from throwing up.
âCarter.â He says simply and now you really stiffen.
You stand there for a few seconds like youâre waiting for something, eyes a little expectant and then full on disappointed when he scoffs and moves to put his leg back on so he can stand up and get out of the room thatâs suddenly suffocating.
You leave his apartment and all the warmth goes with you.
He stands in his dark kitchen with regret sitting heavy on his chest, wishing he had stopped you and asked you to stay with him instead.
He isnât sure if itâs the fear of rejection or his own guilt that stopped him but he knew he couldnât ask you to do that. You deserved better than him and his baggage, his late hours at work and his dangerous hobbies that he needed to keep himself busy with to not think about the things that sent him spiraling.
He couldnât imagine forcing you into a life where you had to explain him to your friends and family, ignore the curious and judging looks from his own when they realized just how young you were.
Jack knew you were lonely, it was obvious considering how much time you willingly spent with him and it was bad enough heâd taken advantage of your desperation for connection and nearly slept with you.
He wouldnât be able to forgive himself if he stopped you from enjoying your youth, having a fun late night in the city surrounded by artsy people your age and not stuck on his couch watching old reruns because heâs too tired after work to properly take you out.
Jack hates himself for thinking all this and then still obsessively wanting you.
So much so that he purposely lingers near his truck right around the time youâd told your date youâd be ready. In his defense, he did actually need a few things from the corner store, so he sat in the parking lot and waited until he saw you come down.
Your date met you at the entrance of the lobby but didnât take your purse from you or the jacket you were holding, smiled at you politely but couldnât be bothered to open the door of his car or even wait for you to get in before he did.
It made Jack sick to his stomach all over again, jaw clenched as he sat in the dark interior of his truck and watched you drive off with some asshole only an hour after heâd had you sleeping next to him, panting under him and begging him to fuck you.
Jack decides right then that it all needs to stop, not just the sex lessons but helping you in general. He canât be that person for you without wanting more, heâs selfish and possessive over somebody that was never supposed to be his and he knows itâs not fair to you.
So he doesnât answer any of your texts that night, stays quiet in his living room whenever you knock on his door and waits until he hears you leave for work before he goes to check the mail.
He feels terrible for avoiding you but keeps trying to convince himself itâs in your best interest.
Jack is half asleep when the silent treatment finally breaks.
Heâd fallen asleep on his couch accidentally, a beer can too many on the table in front of him and the same movie heâd been watching beforehand starting to roll credits. He should have been in bed sleeping after pulling a double at work but he couldnât stand being in there lately, tossing and turning and trying to catch the faint scent of you lingering on his pillows.
There was a second of confusion, not sure why he had waken up in the first place, until the sharp knocks on his door made him flinch.
He was standing up on autopilot to open it, wincing at how stiff and sore his leg felt from falling asleep with it still on.
Any thought of his pain was gone the second he opened his door and saw your face, tears on your cheeks and your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
âI need to talk to you.â You said immediately and he ushered you into his apartment, not necessarily wanting to be in an enclosed space with you but recognizing your tearful voice was far too loud to have a conversation in the hallway.
âWhatâs wrong?â He said softly and takes a few steps towards you on instinct, cradling your cheek and staring down at you when you nuzzle against his touch. âWhy are you crying?â
âBecause youâre an asshole.â You seem to remember that youâre mad at him because you step away from his touch, pushing his arm back down to his side and storming further into his apartment.
He stands there completely frozen as you toss your purse onto the chair near the couch, your eyes scanning over the beer cans and the obvious indent of where heâd been sleeping.
Then youâre back to looking at him and he knows what he probably looks like to you. The exhaustion is obvious on his face, clothes a little baggier than normal from a lack of taking care of himself and a constant awkward shifting on his leg to keep pressure off of it.
âWhy arenât you talking to me?â Your voice cracks a little and he deflates, taking a few steps closer again even though he doesnât think you want him to touch you. âDid I do something wrong?â
âWhat?â His face faces in disbelief at the idea you could ever do anything wrong in general, especially to him. âOf course you didnât sweetheart.â
âThen why?â Your words are louder now and they linger in the tense air, face pained as you wait for him to answer.
He sighs and runs a hand over his stubble that desperately needs some maintenance, wishes he had the time to plan out everything he wanted to say to you so he doesnât accidentally fuck it up more than he already had.
âI just⊠I canât do it anymore.â He lets his hands fall to his sides with a loud defeated clap and shrugs his shoulders. âI canât watch you go out with these idiots knowing they canât take care of you.â
He hopes what heâs trying to say is an obvious to you as it is to him, not able to bring himself to actually voice the fact that he has feelings for you beyond helping out a neighbor.
âYou didnât stop me.â You sound devastated, head shaking like you donât believe anything heâs saying to you.
Youâre not crying anymore thankfully but you look so hurt and disappointed that it makes him physically ache, moving to grab your arm softly and guide you to sit down on the couch with him.
âI waited for you to stop me and you didnât.â You continue once youâre sitting beside him, legs pressed together in a small amount of addicting content. âIsnât it obvious by now that I only want to be with you?â
The words hit him so hard that he doesnât even have time to process them, eyebrows furrowing as the need for more information pushes him to speak.
âWhy would that be obvious? The entire point of this was for you to be ready for other people.â
You look a little embarrassed at his sound logic, staring down at your lap where your hands are fiddling with your fingers. He sighs and takes one of them in his, squeezing it softly until you let your gaze drift back up to his.
âI donât want other people.â You whisper, staring at him with a small amount of hope in your eyes like youâre just waiting for him to understand. âAnd I donât want you to be with anyone else either. I just figured⊠you wouldnât cross that line without a good reason.â
Jack thinks itâs a little juvenile of a plan but he also knows youâre not wrong. He would have never touched you without the feeling of helping you out with something, no matter how much he had wanted you since the second you moved in.
That little lie was all he needed to get himself through the shame and guilt, the ability to pretend it was for a greater cause and not because he was sick and desperate for a girl half his age.
âJack.â You sigh when he doesnât respond for a few seconds, turning so you can face him better and press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw. âStop thinking.â
âThatâs a big ask.â He mumbles back but he gladly turns to give you a real kiss, holding your face in his hand and keeping your mouth against his.
You kiss until you run out of breath, pulling back from him but rubbing your nose against his and letting your small hands grip his forearm desperately.
âThen just be with me for tonight.â You try to reason with him in any way you can, rubbing his arm softly and blinking at him with those big pretty eyes that drive him so crazy.
He stares at you for a moment before heâs standing up off the couch and tugging you along with him, ignoring the little surprised noise you make in favor of lifting you up with his hands on the back of your thighs. You gasp and then giggle softly once heâs got you in the air, arms behind his neck and legs around his middle as he starts to walk you to his room.
âYouâre crazy if you think youâre going anywhere after tonight.â He tells you once he gets you settled on his bed, kissing the smile off your face as he climbs over you.
Itâs a direct mirror of the other night as you get each other undressed fully this time, kissing the entire time and tasting his tongue deep in your mouth when it starts to get more heated.
âYouâre going to be mine.â He says firmly once heâs got you in nothing but your panties, making sure your eyes are locked on his when you hear it. His free hand is all over your body, rubbing from your smooth thigh up to your chest and cupping around your neck for a brief moment while he waits for you to respond. âIf I fuck you then youâre mine.â
âIâve been yours.â You whisper easily, like you didnât have to put any thought into it.
He falters, hand tightening around your throat on instinct and then releasing the pressure when he sees the way your eyes light up with interest.
âDonât be nasty baby.â Heâs teasing, kissing the corner of your mouth and bringing your leg up so itâs around his waist and he can press himself against you. âGonna be gentle with you for your first time. You deserve it.â
âI want you to fuck me.â Youâre pouting and gripping at him impatiently, running your hand between your bodies to touch his stomach and fidget with the waistband of his boxers. âThatâs what I want Jackie.â
âDidnât ask what you wanted.â He grumbles back, not caring that it comes off a little mean because you whine at the sound of how rough his voice had gotten and he knows you like it.
Heâs back to kissing you and itâs filthier than normal, more tongue and spit than anything else.
Youâre as vocal as always, whining and begging impatiently when he gets your underwear off and starts to touch you again.
Jack can barely think straight when heâs back inside of you, fingers pushing in easier this time now that youâve felt the intrusion before and know what to expect. Youâre gasping and crying out immediately, unintelligible words that he blocks out in favor of focusing on how you feel when heâs stretches you out.
âWant it so bad.â Your near sob gets through to him and he hisses through clenched teeth at how wrecked you sound already, shushing you softly and kissing your cheeks to try and calm you down.
âI know baby I know.â Heâs whispering but you donât seem to be hearing him, spreading your legs further to try and make space for him to slot back between them instead of using his fingers.
Jack is just as impatient as you but heâs terrified of hurting you too early, although throbbing so hard in his boxers that itâs painful to shift around.
Itâs not long before itâs too much prep for both of you and youâre watching him with your chest heaving as he gets himself undressed the rest of the way, leg going on the floor right alongside your underwear that he had slowly pulled down your body before climbing back over you.
Your eyes go down between your bodies where his leg is and he tenses for a second despite knowing you mean well with the concern you have on your face.
âLet me ride you.â You say softly and his chest tightens with that old familiar shame he was still actively working on ridding himself of.
âI can fuck you.â He says gruffly and your eyes flash with regret, pouting a little like youâre worried youâve hurt his feelings with your thoughtful suggestion. He kisses the expression off your face, a long deep one followed by a few quick pecks to try and ease your mind. âNext time baby.â
He says it both because he knows realistically he has limitations, there will be plenty of nights heâs not able to rail you into his mattress like he wants to, but also because he knows he would die a happy man the second he got to see you bouncing on top of him and desperately trying to get yourself off.
You look like you want to argue but youâre stopped when heâs pushing your legs apart and moving between them, sharp gasp leaving you when you feel his hard length pressing against you finally.
âFuck Jack.â Your voice is sharp and already a little pained just from the dull sensation of him lining up with your hole, a growl leaving him at the sound of your distress.
âJust relax baby.â He says as softly as he can even though his throat feels tight and raw, kissing you gently to try and get you to calm down enough for him to push in. âYouâre too tight sweetheart.â
âI⊠I canât.â You let out another sharp cry when he shifts forward, nails digging into his shoulders so deep it makes him wince and lower his head down on your shoulder.
Jack has to use every ounce of self control he can muster to not just fully push himself into you and feel that tight heat heâs getting a taste of, that same sick and selfish part of him that wants you in the first place begging him to just take you already.
Instead he takes a few deep breaths before heâs kissing you with more focus, going back and forth between softly rubbing your side and massaging your inner thigh to try and urge your body to relax and accommodate him.
Itâs a torturous ten minutes, especially due to your soft whimpers and the way you cry his name whenever he accidentally moves himself deeper.
Then youâre finally calm enough, bare chest rising and falling with the deep breaths heâd instructed you to take.
âWant you inside Jack.â Youâre whining in his ear, clinging to him tightly and almost suffocating him when he immediately takes your queue and pushes in. You tense up again at the brief surge of pain and then let out a satisfied cry when you feel how full you are, clenching around him so ridiculously that he almost needs to pull out to give himself a break despite barely starting.
Youâre both too overwhelmed to speak much more once he starts to actually fuck you, deep thrust accompanied by filthy kisses to keep you from waking up the neighbors with how desperately youâre whining for him to keep giving you more.
Itâs pure need on both ends, your hips eagerly rocking upwards to try and meet his thrust sloppily while he uses his free hand to roughly push down on your stomach and keep you in place.
âJackie.â Itâs nearly a sob from you now and he can tell youâre close from how much tighter youâd gotten, almost an impossible squeeze for him to keep fucking you through.
Heâs grateful youâre so inexperienced because he doesnât think heâd last long either, not with the way you look as you stare up at him with teary and trusting eyes.
âI know baby youâre doing so good for me.â Itâs more of a growl than anything else but he can barely think let alone speak enough to keep encouraging you. âTaking me so well sweetheart.â
âIâm so full Jack.â You whimper and cling to him tighter, nearly pulling him fully down on top of you and knocking him off his balance. âFeels so good.â
Youâre stuttering through your sentences and slurring each word, eyes a little dazed in a way that makes him need to squeeze his shut to avoid coming inside you just from that fucked out look you have.
Itâs more sweet than heated when you actually do finally reach your peak, holding onto him still and kissing the side of his jaw softly with your face buried in his neck as you squirm and shake your way through your orgasm.
He stays inside of you for as long as he can so youâre not shocked from the sudden feeling of emptiness but youâre squeezing him too tight and he has to pull out as soon as youâre starting to relax. You whimper immediately at the lose and pick your head up to pout at him, eyes panicked like youâre genuinely distressed he didnât finish inside you.
He shushes you gently and kisses your face over and over, rubbing your side as he lets you fully come back to reality before attempting to clean either of you up or get you dressed.
âJack.â Youâve got the needy and frustrated tone he loves so much and he knows youâre not dropping it, meeting your eyes with a fond sigh as you glance down at where heâd came instead of inside you.
âNext time.â He promises again and he means it, fully intending to have that conversation with you ahead of time now that heâs got you like this.
Jack isnât too opposed to the idea of getting you pregnant, not even sure heâs able to with the amount of pills he takes, but he has to push down that thought along with the rest of the sick ones he gets when he looks at your needy eyes.
You smile a little at the loose promise and tuck yourself back into his shoulder, soothing any concern he has about what just happened or how youâre supposed to operate going forward.
Heâs undoubtedly the luckiest guy in the world to have you wanting him like this, feeling safe in his arms and desperate for him in the way heâd been for you since the second he laid eyes on you.
Jack was never the type of person to take the duty of taking care of somebody lightly and he doesnât plan to let you down for even a second, kissing the top of your head softly and letting himself forget about any shame or insecurity just to hold you for awhile longer.
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