You’re away at a medical conference and you accidentally text your attending, Jack Abbot, something not meant for him. It works out in your favor.
tags: phone sex, age gap, 1 use of daddy, jack abbot is down bad, mutual masturbation - 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT.
notes: back on tumblr woo hoo! (formerly known as Syd-djarin). hope u like it :) title is from “God is Fair, Sexy Nasty” by Mac Miller. also posted on AO3
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You're in California for a medical conference with your besties from day shift, Santos, Whitaker and Javadi. It's been a nice change of scenery from the bone chilling winter in Pittsburgh, though you find yourself missing a certain night shift attending. You've been harboring a crush on him since your first day —and it seems like it gets more intense the more you see glimmers of his personality underneath the layer of his typical stoicism.
The end of a lengthy seminar finds you and your crew at rhe hotel lobby bar, swapping gossip and sipping on one too many dirty Shirleys.
Unfortunately, you've always been a sappy drunk. Your mind drifts to Jack again, heart yearning for his calm, steadfast presence. Sometimes at night, your mind feeds you the delusion that your unwavering longing is requited, that Jack is deeply in love with you too. Tonight is one of those nights.
Your phone dings. A text from your best friend back home.
Bestie♡: how's it going?? deets please
Bestie♡: is the hot doctor there 😜
Another diiiiing!
Your tummy flutters seeing a text from Jack.
Abbot🐰: How's it going?
You reply to your best friend first, not wanting to seem too desperate to reply to him.
You: Going good!! Need a facetime date to give you all the deets
You: Abbot isn't here 💔💔💔
You: Probably for the best though I'm ovulating and let's just say he wouldn't survive being in a room with me rn lollll
Jack doesn't know what to think when he reads the text from you. Clearly intended for someone else and explicitly confirming you hold a torch for him. He's keenly aware of how your eyes twinkle up him, though he was certain its an idolizing-your-mentor- type of way.
Now, he's rethinking every accidental touch, every lingering stare, all the toothy grins you seem to only reserve for him. Warmth prickles his skin.
He knows damn well he shouldn't, but he replies anyway.
Ding.
Abbot🐰: Missing me already?
Abbot🐰: Curious to what you'd do to me that would be fatal, considering I survived deployments.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" You yelp, causing the whole table to turn their attention to you. Humiliation stings your cheeks.
"Just um, forgot to call my friend. Different time zones and all, ya know? Uh, see you guys tomorrow!"
You scurry from the lobby bar back up to your room, not daring to look back at them, and certainly not trusting your inebriated state to keep your secret from your colleagues, especially not Santos - she has the annoying trait of being acutely observant and can suss out a lie quicker than anyone you've ever seen.
Your head spins when you get back to your room, finally letting out an exhale. How the fuck are you supposed to do damage control here? Send a lengthy paragraph surely to overexplain yourself? A phone call? Knowing Jack he'd be much more appreciative of that. Maybe now is a good time to consider a transfer to a hospital where you didn't just admit your big fat crush on your attending to your attending!
Before you can make a decision, another text from Jack comes through.
Abbot🐰: I know that was meant for someone else. I shouldn't tease you about it. I'm sorry.
You: No omg you shouldn't be sorry!!! I'm the one who is sending inappropriate texts about my boss. Dr. Abbot, I am so incredibly sorry. I understand if you're uncomfortable working with me now :(
Abbot🐰: Not the first time one of my residents has had a crush on me.
You: I'll ask Robby about switching to days when I get back. I'm so sorry again, Dr. Abbot.
Abbot🐰: If that's what you want to do, by all means.
Abbot🐰: But I'd prefer you stay on nights.
You: Really? Are you sure?
Don't make him spell it out for you. He'd fold immediately, with the smallest of nudges he'd spill his guts to you. You bring out his vulnerability that once laid dormant for years.
Abbot🐰:. I'd rather not lose my best resident to Robby.
You: I'm your best?
Abbot🐰: Don't tell Ellis or Shen but you're my favorite.
Abbot🐰: I'll keep your secret if you keep mine.
Suddenly the frigid hotel air conditioning isn't cool enough, the lingering alcohol in your system making you perspire. You strip down to your underwear.
You: Yes sir your secret is safe with me
You: Again I am so incredibly sorry Dr. Abbot.
Fuck you for calling him sir.
Abbot🐰: Don't worry about it. Besides I'm flattered.
You: I hope you're not making fun of me :(
Abbot🐰: Never, sweetheart.
Abbot🐰: I don't get why a pretty, brilliant lady like you would want an old man like me
You: You think I'm brilliant?
Abbot🐰: Brightest of the brightest.
You: Now I'm the one who is flattered
You: Have you always had a thing for me?
Abbot🐰: Have you always had one for me?
You: I asked first!!!
Abbot🐰: After your first shift I knew I was a goner. Now your turn.
You: I was intimidated by your presence at first, not gonna lie
You: But then I realized you're a softie under that dark, brooding exterior.
Abbot🐰: You bring out my soft side.
Fuck if that doesn't almost do you in completely. It's time to crank things up a notch, you think.
You: [attachment: 1 photo]
You: since I've seen yours already. ;)
You're laying in the hotel bed, tits on full display. He smirks thinking about you walking in on him shirtless tending to his wound from being shot at. Jack can see the bottom half of your pout in the frame and it sends blood rushing straight to his cock.
Abbot🐰: Fuck me, your tits are beautiful baby. You know how to make this old man feel things
You: That was the point ;) let me see you pleaseeeee
If Robby knew he was about to send a dick pic to his favorite resident he'd never hear the end of it. He feels a bit embarrassed by this, but the throbbing in his cock takes over all his capacity for thought.
Abbot🐰: [Attachment: 1 photo]
You: Holy shit
You: I knew you'd be big. Making me think all sorts of ideas ;)
Abbot🐰: Tell me more, baby.
You: [Attachment: 1 Video]
"I wish these were your fingers, Jack…" you moan.
Your legs are spread open, your core on display for the camera. You’ve got two fingers teasing in and out of your glistening pussy.
He can't take it anymore. He needs to see you. Needs to hear your sweet voice.
Incoming FaceTime from Abbot🐰
"Hi Jack," you whisper, suddenly feeling shy.
His curls are perfectly disheveled, his eyes are tired but warm.
"Hi sweetheart," he clears his throat. "Sorry I don't really know what I'm doing…" his face blushes and it's the most adorable sight you've seen. "Just wanted to see you and hear your voice."
You giggle. God this man.
"You're so old school."
"You don't seem to mind," he quips back.
"Getting ready for your shift?"
"Yeah, gotta leave in an hour. You want to uh, help me with a situation?" He asks almost shyly.
"Is it the situation causing the tent in your scrub pants?"
"That'd be the one, yeah," he chuckles.
If you'd known it'd be this easy, you would have spilled your secret months ago.
You prop your phone on a pillow to give Jack full camera access to you. The air quickly turns from shy flirtations to something deeper, sexier — a flip has switched. Jack's eyes darken and are locked onto you, like you're his prey and he hasn't eaten in days.
"I bet that pretty pussy is soaked for me, isn't it?"
"Yes," you moan.
"Show me." He commands, but gently.
You spread open for him again, this time gathering your wetness on your fingers, holding your slick fingers to the camera.
"Fuck baby, you're gonna be the death of me," Jack groans.
"Do you think about me when you touch yourself? The way I think about you?"
He removes his shirt, his biceps ripple with the movements and you're mesmerized.
"You have no idea…" he admits.
"Let me see you," you purr.
Seeing your hot attending naked has you reeling. All his scars, wrinkles and freckles, you wanna trace them with your hands, your tongue. His cock lays heavy against his stomach, leaking at the tip.
"Come with me," he says, starting to stroke up and down his length.
Matching his pace, you fuck yourself with two fingers.
"That's it, baby, nice and slow… look so fucking beautiful like this."
You beam at his praise. He can't help the grin that breaks out on his face.
"How do you feel, baby?" He slows down to check in.
"S-so good, daddy." You're lost in the buildup you barely register the words escaping your mouth until Jack nearly chokes. "Oh my god, um—"
"You're daddy's pretty girl aren't you?" He cuts you off.
"Uh-huh."
"Use your words, baby," he commands, once again gentle but stern.
"Yes daddy, I'm your pretty girl," you all but squeal. Your whole body is alight, sweat clings to your skin.
He picks up the speed, both of you panting and moaning, enraptured by each other.
"'M close, daddy!" The familiar swirl of pleasure in your body almost to its peak.
"Come for me, pretty baby, daddy's right behind you," he grunts.
It hits you and you cry out his name, he follows suit and he chants your name like a prayer.
"Did so good, looked so beautiful…" he praises, out of breath.
"That was so hot, goddamn."
"I usually don't do this," he says after you've both caught your breath.
"Phone sex? Or phone sex with your resident?"
"Both," he smirks. "Normally I'd have taken you to dinner first, the way you deserve. I'd like to do that when you get back if you'll have me?"
"Absolutely," you grin.
"Alright, I gotta get cleaned up before shift. Get some sleep."
"Have a good shift."
You doze off with Jack still fresh on your mind. When you wake up, you find a text from him— a screenshot of the menu of a local restaurant.
Summary: Clayton Emerson is in need of a house sitter while he's off on business on one of the other islands. Who better for the job than his much younger situationship?
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Age gap (mid 20s x 50s), implied power imbalance, yearning, angst, unrequited love, spanking, oral sex (performed on reader), fingering (performed on reader), penetrative sex (piv), unprotected sex, cream pie, mention of death, mention of divorce.
Author's Note: This is my first (published) fanfic since 2020 so please be kind to me. I'm a little rusty. I obviously don't know much about living in Hawaii or being a life guard so take all of that with a grain of salt. This is mostly just for funsies anyway! I also plan on writing a part two so don't hate me too much with that ending. Enjoy!
You didn't know exactly what you were expecting to come out of Clayton Emerson's mouth as the two of you were laid up in a tangle of limbs and bare flesh in your bed but it definitely wasn't "Will you house sit for me while I'm in Hilo?"
Never once in the two years since you started whatever this thing was between you, had he ever personally invited you into his home.
It was always hotel rooms outside of town or in the back of his Jeep in some remote location out in the forest where no one would walk by and see the Mayor of Honolulu fucking someone over twenty years younger than he was and definitely shouldn't be with in that regard.
You had even started having him at your place when your roommate went on her monthly "work trips" with her boss. It made you feel guilty to keep her in the dark given that she and her boss were having a full blown affair and probably wouldn't judge you in the slightest.
But you just couldn't bring yourself to tell her that you let the man who runs this town come inside you several times a week. And that maybe you were starting to develop feelings you shouldn't be.
You found out quickly that you loved him there, in your bedroom, best. Under the dull glow of your fairy lights, amongst the things that showcased who you were to your core.
He'd taken his time his first visit studying all the photos scattered in various surfaces of your room. The life you lived outside of your little bubble, family photos from a childhood that felt so far away now. Posters from bands you no longer listened to but still kept up for nostalgia mingled with ones of artists that now frequented your music apps and of movies you loved.
You watched him make his way through the museum of your life, his face softening on a picture of you as a child with your siblings, your front teeth missing but that hadn't stopped you from smiling so hard your face might split.
Clayton had always been attractive to you. It drove you mad most days. You knew from the moment you saw him that you had to have him in some way. Any way he was willing to give himself. But he'd never been more mesmerizing than here in this room.
It wasn't lost on you how out of place he was amongst your things. Realistically he shouldn't be there at all, the definition of taboo and crossing lines, but you couldn't help the warm feeling that came over you. Especially when he looked at you with so much adoration and heat.
You'd rode him to madness that night, letting whatever animal dwelled inside you free. You couldn't get enough, each wave of pleasure he'd pounded into your body making you crave more.
And he always matched your energy, always knew what your body needed before you even knew yourself. The two of you just fit so perfectly and you figured it was why you could never really put an end to things.
You both had tried on a few occasions, knowing deep down things could never really work long term but it only took a couple weeks of being away from each other for one of you to cave and end up back here.
But never had he extended things to his personal home. Not even his office in town. It was a line he had drawn firmly when you two started seeing each other. At the time you had no problem with it, perfectly content to be his dirty little secret and meeting up at whatever address he'd text you to be at.
This was doomed from the start. But you never once hesitated when he called and definitely never let yourself believe that just because he had grown softer in the last two years that it changed anything.
You'd been in his home exactly one time, a few months into your rendezvous, for an appreciation dinner he hosted for the North Shore rescue unit. It had been an eventful but over all successful summer. The death count that year had been the lowest it had been in the last fifteen years and the Mayor thought it was worth the recognition.
You thought about not going, remembering the hard boundary he had made a few months prior. Technically you were invited, the whole unit had been and it might raise more questions if you bailed on an event hosted by the most important man in town. Deciding to just go in the end, you tried your best to keep scarce and out of his way, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself.
He had been cold with you that night, his usually softened demeanor around you was replaced with a stoic and guarded one, eyes like ice and face like stone. Only directed at you and you couldn't help the pinch in your chest being on the receiving end of it.
When he wasn't shooting daggers at you, he was pretending that you didn't exist. Like the two of you didn't know each other's bodies inside and out by then. You reminded yourself that you knew what this was from the beginning, that he wasn't the gentle, romantic relationship type. That the two of you were merely using each other as a way to find release.
It was all you'd ever be to each other and you had half a thought that this was him reminding you of that fact.
You had cut out early, having made your appearance and just wanted to get out of those clothes and hunker down in the comfort of your home. Your shower was extra long that night, taking your time to scrub away the day so you could start anew, refreshed and clean.
What you weren't expecting was the five texts and three missed phone calls from Clayton Emerson when you got out.
C.E.: Did you leave already?
C.E.: You didn't even say goodbye.
C.E.: Are you ignoring me now?
C.E.: If you're upset I would much rather you tell me instead of whatever this silent treatment is.
C.E.: Listen, I'm sorry. Please come over and let me make it up to you. I'm at our usual spot. Please don't keep me waiting.
You did in fact, keep him waiting. Not having the mental strength to face him. Exhaustion was gnawing at your bones and you decided that you'd face him when you were better rested and prepared for whatever he would throw your way.
Plus, you couldn't really have that much of an affect on him, could you? He was the fucking mayor, a good looking one at that. He probably had a line of willing potential partners he could fill his time with. Your stomach turned to acid at the thought and you banished it as quickly as it came.
You learned the next day how wrong you were when he had shown up at your work under the guise of checking in and making sure any comments or concerns could be addressed.
He couldn't keep his eyes off you, ones that you noticed were a little wild and out of control. His usually perfectly kept hair was disheveled, like he'd tossed and turned all night and hadn't bothered to tame it before he left the house. Even his navy blue Hawaiian shirt was wrinkled and the buttons weren't perfectly lined up.
Something was wrong and you cursed whatever it was for pulling at your heart strings.
You were loading up your car to head out for the day when suddenly he was there, standing so close you could make out every color that was encased in his eyes. Butterflies started doing laps in your stomach and just being this close to him always made heat pool deep within you.
"You never showed up. Never answered my texts or calls." His voice was shaking, like he was trying with all his power not to completely lose it.
"I was tired and didn't feel like talking. Sorry." You shrugged, stowing away a pair of life jackets in the back seat.
"Then be tired and quiet where I can at least see you." You paused at the words, not used to the man being vulnerable. His eyes took on that puppy dog look and you felt your walls slowly chipping away.
"You getting soft on me, Emerson?" Your heart clenched at the idea of him caring more about you than he'd always led on.
"I just…..don't like the idea of you being upset. Especially not with me. I know I'm an asshole, my son tells me any chance he can. His mother too. And I know I was coming on strong last night but…." He stopped, his features twisting in a battle of emotions.
This was hard for him, being so exposed emotionally. You wondered how many people got to see this side of him.
"But what?" You prodded, looking at him with encouragement.
"But I have a hard time controlling myself when you're around. You looked so beautiful and all I wanted to do was throw you over my shoulder, take you to my room and fuck you until the sun came up. Not sit around and talk about the same old issues I hear about twenty times a day. Or about the weather or sports or any of that mundane nonsense. And having you there, looking like absolute sin and not being able to do anything about it made me wanna rip my hair out."
You were embarrassed by how quickly you'd caved. Telling him to come over later that night so you could really talk it out. Except there was nothing to talk about, you'd already decided to forgive him.
The sex that night had been unreal. Something had shifted with his confession. His body moved differently, the aching sweetness of his aftercare and the way he held onto you like you might disappear as you slept. And that had been the norm for you from then on.
"You want me to house sit?" You repeated, shifting your head so you could look him in the eyes.
"Yes." He stated simply, like this wasn't a huge deal.
"You want me in your house?" You had a hard time convincing yourself you'd indeed heard him correctly.
"You've been in my house before." He frowned, running his fingertips up and down your spine.
"Once. And you weren't exactly warm and welcoming then." His frown deepened, his hand pausing for a moment before continuing.
"A fact that I feel I've more than made up for." He had, he really fucking had.
"Don't you have people already who can watch your house while you're gone?"
"I do, but I've been meaning to give them some time off. And I already asked Kainalu and that was a flat out no. You're the only other person I trust."
"My plan to steal all your belongings and sell them on Facebook Marketplace and Criagslist is all coming together." You rubbed your palms together and let out mock maniacal laughter. He chuckled in return, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Take it all, my ex wife picked out most of that stuff anyway." You kept your body from reacting. The subject of his ex had been a sore one, something he didn't really like getting into but had let slip from time to time.
You respected that, honestly not in any mood to hear about the woman he'd once promised forever to, had a child with. It made your chest ache in ways you had never experienced before for reasons you'd likely never admit to him.
"You really trust me with this?" You peered up at him and he peered back at you for a moment before a soft smile stretched on his face.
"I do."
And that's where you now found yourself, alone in that big house of his. He'd shown you around briefly, giving you a set of rules and expectations and numbers to the front gate where his security would be. He'd had the fridge and pantry fully stocked for you to use, every streaming service under the sun at your disposal. All he asked was that you water the plants and keep things tidy.
The seriousness of his face and the professional air of his tone was deeply amusing to you. You found yourself swallowing back laughter and grinning as soon as his back was turned.
You couldn't shake the look of tenderness on his face or the intensity of the way he'd kissed you goodbye before he'd left. Or the way he said he'd selfishly wanted you here so he knew where you'd be and he didn't have to worry so much while he was miles away and couldn't reach you as easily. You thought it was silly since you risked your life daily for a living but you let him have it.
It wasn't the first time he'd shown that side of himself to you but it always caught you off guard. Made you believe that maybe he did have feelings for you, wanted something more than just sex. You never let yourself fall too deeply into that train of thought. You knew better than to actually think that would be true.
When you weren't out on the beach pulling people out of near death experiences, patching up wounds and filling out paperwork, you were basking in the comfortable silence of Clayton's home.
You had to travel about two miles through his farm land to reach the house, nestled away near the tree line of the forest. The closest neighbor was about four miles away and with the temporary dismissal of his staff, aside from a few security guards, you were completely alone.
You utilized the massive kitchen, one you'd dreamed of having one day when you saved up enough money to set down roots somewhere. You loved to cook and bake just as much as you loved being out in those waters and helping people. It was in your blood, a perfect mix of both of your parents.
Your father was a chef, owned his own restaurant on the other side of the island and taught you his craft from the time you could hold a spatula firmly in your little hand. Your mother had been a Life Guard, spent time up here in her youth doing the same line of work before heading down south to settle down and raise a family. She had been your inspiration to follow the same path.
You'd been meaning to try out a few recipes you'd seen online but didn't have the patience or time to do in your little apartment kitchen. But with all this space, you figured why not? You quickly wondered why you'd deprived yourself of this joy. It made you miss your father and you made a mental note to give him a call the following day.
When you were done, you'd nuzzle up on the couch and watched movies you'd been meaning to watch but again, never found the time to settle in.
I could get used to this. The thought was there before you could stop it, your chest tightening and your face heating. You shook your head in hopes it would magically make the thought disappear. Stupid, there's nothing to get used to. He'll be rushing you out of here the second he gets back.
You were careful not to get too comfortable after that.
You had opted for the guest bedroom, even though he said you could take his bed. You didn't want to be amongst his things, his scent surely lingering on those sheets. It would make you miss him more than you already did, a feeling you should not be having. Best to keep some level of separation.
Clayton would check in twice a day. Once in the morning before you headed out to work, you wondered how he knew to time it so perfectly, and once after dinner.
The conversations never lasted long and he didn't bother with small talk. Just wanted to know if there was any concerns or things he should know about before wishing you a good day or night and hanging up. You tried not to let it affect you, you were used to his frigidness by now.
About two weeks into your house sitting gig, you'd had a particularly bad day. It started with a stubbed toe on your way out the door, after you were late getting up and it had spiraled out of control from there.
The waves were violent that day. People were stupid enough to think they could handle them when in reality, they couldn't. You and your team had pulled out a dozen people that day, one of them hadn't made it.
You took a bath that night. Bubbles, Epsom salt, the works. The water so hot even the Devil would be concerned. You stayed in there so long your body was practically a raisin, scrubbed red and raw.
When you got out, you decided to do something you hadn't dared to once during your time here. But the events of the day had worn down your mental walls and you just wanted to be close to him.
You slowly opened his bedroom door, peaking your head around to peer into the dark space, like you were expecting him to be there and catch you in the act. It was empty, obviously, the bed made up and untouched. The glow of the moon bathed the room in silver, coming in through the row of windows above his bed.
You didn't let your eyes linger on it for too long, you had a mission.
Opening the door all the way and flicking on the light, you slowly entered. Your eyes landed on a set of double doors and you made your way over to them, opening them to see your intuition had been correct.
There hung a neat row of Hawaiian shirts, all the same color pallette of blue but each with their own unique patterns. Your heart melted at the sight of them, you hadn't realized how much you had missed them. You picked a random one from the middle, unbuttoning it and slipping it on.
You didn't bother buttoning it up again nor did you put anything else on. You brought the fabric up to your nose, inhaling deeply and you swore you could weep as his scent hit you.
You quietly exited, not wanting to linger any longer in the room and padded down the hall to the living room. The air against your practically bare flesh felt good after your bath, your nipples starting to harden beneath the fabric of Clayton's shirt.
Without even thinking, you found yourself in front of his shelves full of records. Your fingers ran along the spines, eyes moving slowly along with them until you found something that piqued your interest.
It was on the third shelf that you found exactly what would do the trick. You carefully pulled it out of its spot, not wanting anything to damage it. Slipping it out of its casing, you placed it into the record player, adjusted the needle to where you wanted it and turned it on.
The intro beats to Hall & Oat's Out of Touch began to sound through the speakers and it was like the music possessed you. It started in your hips, swinging and circling back and fourth to the sound. Then your body began to roll, arms stretched up into the air. You spun around the room, letting the music move through you.
You threw your head back and began to belt out the words, moving into the kitchen to make yourself a before bed treat. You began taking out the necessary ingredients and setting off to work.
You were so in your element, on a whole other planet, that you didn't hear the sound of tires coming up the drive, the slam of a driver's side door nor the opening and closing of the front entrance. Not even the stomping of boots coming down the corridor.
What broke your spell had been the feeling on the back of your neck that you were being watched. Not necessarily in a concerning way but you knew that you weren't alone.
You looked around, your eyes catching on a figure lounging with a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on it's face. It took you a moment to register what, or rather who, you were looking at.
You stopped abruptly, your breath hitching and heart began to thump against your ribcage.
You had forgotten in the last several days exactly what he had looked like. It was like the image in your mind didn't perfectly describe the different shades of gray that made up that head of thick curls, how deep the lines on his face were or the exact pattern of freckles that splattered across his skin.
Devastatingly handsome and here. There was no stopping the storm of butterflies raging through your stomach or the fact that being so exposed and perceived had made you wet in an instant.
"You're home. I thought you'd be gone for another week at least." You barely made out, not able to take your eyes off of the man.
"Luckily we got what we needed and were able to wrap things up early." He replied, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer, eyes like a predator that had locked in on it's prey.
"That's g-good!" You stammered, busying yourself with cleaning up the mess you'd made of the kitchen, trying to settle your heart as he stepped closer and closer. "I'll just tidy up and be out of your hair. I'm sure you're exhausted and want some quiet."
You yelped when you felt a set of rough palms against the flesh of your hips. Suddenly pressed firmly against his front, his breath so close you could smell the saltiness of the ocean, mint and a hint of bourbon. It made your head swim and you found yourself once again locked by his gaze.
"Surely you're not trying to leave. Not after that show you just put on." His octave had lowered into something sensual and raspy and his eyes had gone completely black. His right hand had moved from your hip, fingers running over the material of his shirt that didn't do a very good job at covering your body. "This looks good on you."
"It's very comfortable. I get why you own a million of them." Clayton chucked, both hands now moving their way up your torso, past your stomach and ribcage, parting the fabric more so your nipples were exposed to him. Involuntarily your chest pressed forward, a silent plea for him to wrap those pretty lips around the sensitive flesh.
His smile widened at the action, his eyes flicking up to yours for a brief moment before dipping back down to your breasts. But his lips didn't go where you so badly wanted them to, instead you jolted in shock when his mouth was suddenly against yours. His tongue caressed your bottom lip and you didn't hesitate to part them to let him in.
He groaned like a man starved, hands coming around to smooth down the column of your back until they gripped firmly on your ass. Your answering moan set him to action and suddenly you were airborne, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved in a direction you couldn't be bothered to figure out.
You heard the opening of a door and then your back against something soft and padded. He broke the kiss then to admire you laid out on what you now realized was his bed. He studied you for a moment, eyes roaming over every inch.
"You drive me insane, you know that?" He said after a beat of silence.
"Is that so?" You blushed, not bothering to fight the grin on your face.
"You know you do. I can't get you out of my head. Took everything in me not to race back here every time I heard your voice on the damn phone." He had his palms on your feet now, massaging all the way up to your calves.
"That explains the formality of those calls then." You rested the bottoms of your feet against his chest as he worked the knots out of your muscles.
"If I'd let myself stay on the phone longer than that, I never would've gotten anything done." He'd continued his journey north, reaching the spot where your knees bent and slowly spreading your legs. That wild look in his eyes he'd get when he had you like this was present, though there was a hint of something else there that you couldn't pin point.
"Do I really affect you that much?" It took everything in you to keep your voice level while he dropped to his knees before you, hands gripping under your hips and sliding your ass to the edge of the bed. Your core clenched at the anticipation and the way he starting planting lazy kisses on the insides of your thighs.
He didn't answer, too lost in his mission now. He slowly drew closer to that spot between your thighs that now ached with need. You tried to suppress your huffs of impatience, your hips tilting up in hopes it would speed things along.
It did the opposite, he took even longer. Switching to your other thigh and repeating the action seemingly even slower this time. His eyes were on you, a small tug at the corner of his mouth told you he was thoroughly enjoying torturing you.
"Did you miss me?" He drawled between kisses, sucking on your skin in a way that you knew would leave behind a trail of marks.
"Not at all." Your voice was thick, weak with lust.
"Fucking. Liar." He growled, biting down lightly on your flesh but hard enough to make you squeak with surprise. "Let's try that again. Did. You. Miss. Me?"
His movements paused just over your slick center, you could feel the hotness of his breath there as he exhaled. He rose a brow in challenge, daring you to lie again. In no mood to be a brat tonight, you nodded your head.
"Uh, uh. I need to hear you say it, sweetheart."
"I missed you." The words had barely left your lips when he descended on you. Tongue sweeping out to lick from your asshole, up your folds to your clit and back down. He repeated the action a few times, warming you up.
You threw your head back when he took your clit into his mouth and started sucking, a palm spread out over the expanse of your stomach holding you in place. His other hand gripped onto your thigh and keeping you from trying to close your legs.
You let out a guttural whine, his thumb replacing his tongue so it could plunge itself inside you and lap at your entrance like it was water and he'd walked through a desert to find it. You laced your fingers through his silver curls, massaging your finger tips against his scalp. You felt his groan of approval vibrate through you.
Soon his thick fingers took place of his tongue, pushing into you and hooking one at a time. He stroked slowly at that spot inside of you, his lips once again sucking at your clit, before gradually increasing in pace.
It took no time at all to draw out your first orgasm and you didn't brother keeping quiet. You'd still been coming down from your high and hadn't processed that he'd moved away and started his ascent upwards. You whimpered as his mouth found the hard peaks of your breasts, finally giving them the attention they'd been craving.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, digging into the fabric there and it dawned on you then that he was still fully dressed, shoes and all. This simply won't do.
"Clayton." You practically whispered, your voice already starting to grow horse. All he'd responded with was a hmm? against your nipple.
"I'm feeling a bit over dressed right now." He lifted his head to look at you, confusion on his face until it dawn on him too. He pulled away from you, getting up off the bed with a grumble. Old man, you chuckled in your head.
He started pealing out of his layers in that same leisurely manner he'd been using all night. You propped up on your elbows, your legs still spread and ready to welcome back, and enjoyed the view.
You bit your lip once the solid plains of his chest came into view and the path of thick muscle leading in an arrow down to the band of his dress pants. He dropped down in a squat, started untying his laces and tugging of his shoes, never once breaking eye contact.
Your cheeks began to heat at the way he watched you, drifting back and fourth between your face and cunt, still so fucking wet and ready for him. You clenched around air, that ache pounding like a heartbeat at your core.
His grin grew, he'd seen it happened and was totally storing it wherever his ego was kept. He started to make work of his pants, still not in any hurry. He loved watching you squirm. Growing annoyed and desperate and ready to beg for him.
He stepped out of his pants, leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight navy boxer briefs. You could see the hard line of his length, already swollen and leaking. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic but didn't move to tug them off.
Your awaiting gaze lifted and you found him staring at you, eyes impossibly darker. You began fidgeting under his heated stare, breathing heavily. You knew what he wanted and you were so god damn prepared to give it to him.
"Please give me your cock, Sir." You pouted, legs parting wider for him.
"Good girl." He drew his boxers down, exposing the patch of trimmed salt and pepper hair there, your mouth beginning to water. You let out a soft gasp as his cock sprang free, your walls squeezing together like your pussy was greeting him like an old friend.
He threw the fabric somewhere out of your line of vision, and prowled back to where you laid on the bed. Then he was over you, his head coming down to claim your lips again, your tongues twisting in tandem. He pressed his body against yours and the friction against your nipples made your eyes roll.
You felt the hot weight of his length laying on your stomach, slowly sliding down as he began to shift his hips. You lifted yours slightly, positioning your core so it was in the direct path of his tip. He slid up the length of you, nudging against your clit. You whimpered as he repeated the action until you had to reiterate your earlier request.
"Please give me your cock, Sir." You panted into his mouth, palms gliding down the expanse of his back.
"I haven't forgotten, sweetheart." And there he was, pressing his tip against your entrance but not moving forward. He lifted his head away from your kiss, watching your face intently. You watched him back, reveling in the way the moonlight brightened the color of his hazel eyes. He was breathtaking and devastating all at once and-
Your train of though was cut short by the cry of pleasure that ripped out of your chest as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. His slow tempo gone with the wind, he pulled back and rolled his hips forward and he was off.
The only sound in the room was the wetness of his cock plunging in and out of you, the smack of bare skin on bare skin and heavy breathing.
You weren't entirely sure where to put your hands, gripping onto anything you could as that familiar wave of pleasure crashed over you. You'd missed this, swore you could spend a life time getting lost in it.
He threw your legs over his shoulders, pulling back so he could watch your face screwed up in euphoria as he fucked you deeper. "That good, baby? You like that?"
"Fuck yes." You weren't even sure if you were speaking clearly but you knew he was hitting that spot inside of you dead on and it wouldn't be long before you were clenching around his girth.
"Oh yes, baby. There it is." He didn't stop pounding into you as you came undone. He dipped his head to plant chaste kisses on your cheeks, nose and lastly your lips. "Such a good girl, aren't you?"
You nodded your head in a drunken daze, his voice sounded distant but you knew he was right there with you, ready to catch you if you fell into madness. He slowed his pace, kissing his way down your throat to your collarbones and back again.
"I want to ride you. Please let me ride you." You begged, kissing his shoulder. You squeaked as he flipped the two of you over, his cock staying buried inside you. You adjusted yourself on top of him and his hands were firmly back on your ass, slowly massaging his finger tips into the skin there.
Once you felt you'd gotten yourself into a comfortable position, you steadied your hands on his chest and slowly rolled your hips forward, then off to the left, down, right and back forward again.
Clayton's hands slid up to rest on your hips, helping to guide yourself against his cock. "C'mon, baby. I know you can do better than that."
You looked down at him with a shit eating grin. "I don't know. You should probably take it easy, Old Man. I think I noticed a new wrinkle on your face and your hair is looking more white than gray these days."
He bucked his hips up in a solid swift motion, his thighs smacking hard against your ass. The sound reverberated through the room followed by your surprised gasp. You grumbled, pressing down on his chest and shooting him a glare.
"I think you're forgetting this isn't exactly our first rodeo." He shot back, his hips thrusting again, gentler this time.
"Hmmm, I don't think I can recall. But if you're sure you can handle me," You shrugged, positioning yourself forward and lifted yourself off of him until all that was left inside you was the tip of his cock. "So be it."
You slammed down on his length hard and fast, lifting your self back up and doing it again. You'd messed around with different speeds until you found one you could keep up with.
Clayton's hold on you was so strong you wouldn't be surprised if his hand prints were visible there in the morning. You came at the sound of him whimpering uncontrollably, unable to form words. You threw your head back, grind yourself down on him as you came back down.
"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees." It was an order and you could feel your heart beat in your ears. He was about the thoroughly ruin you.
You wasted no time getting into position, your spine curving inward so your ass was perked up perfectly for him. You could feel him shifting behind you, positioning himself back at your entrance.
He spread his hand out at the small of your back, the other coming around to draw slow circles against your clit. You hummed contently, nudging your ass back a fraction. There was a sharp slap against your ass cheek that made your pussy clench at the sting.
"So fucking impatient." He said it so tenderly, like it was a praise instead of the scold you knew it was.
You kept yourself still despite wanting nothing more than to press back and onto his cock. He didn't make you wait long before he bent over you, planting soft kisses down your spine and slowly pressed himself between your folds.
You both let out a sigh in unison as he sank back into your wet heat. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, cursing and mumbling as he fucked you into near delirium.
He used his knee to spread your legs father apart and forced your head down into the mattress. The position and the speed in which he was pounding into you made his balls swing and slap perfectly against your clit.
Another orgasm ripped out of you but you barely had enough time to stew in it before he had you on your back again.
You could tell he was close, his thrusts growing sloppy and less calculated. He was also getting louder, your name like a prayer or an answer so some unknown question on his lips.
Watching him come undone like this was your favorite sight in the whole world. You could get drunk off if it, spend the rest of your days just like this. You didn't want anything, anyone more than you wanted him.
It scared you, overwhelmed you so deeply that you could feel tears pool at your eyes and slide down your cheeks. He leaned forward, licking your tears away before resting his forehead against yours.
The eye contact. The thoughts racing through your head. The death you'd encountered earlier that day making you realize just how short life was. The fact that he was finally taking you in the one place he swore he never would. The wave of another orgasm. The feeling of him spilling inside of you. It all became too much.
You couldn't stop the words that shot out of you if you tried.
"I love you."
It was like someone hit pause on the world, this moment. Everything stilled and quieted and you swore the violent beat of your heart could be heard through the entire island.
You dared a look at his face and froze. A mask void of emotion, glacial and removed and looking somewhere past you.
"C-Clayton?" Your voice shook, the rest of your body following suit and it had nothing to do with your climax.
His eyes slowly focused on you again, but there was no change in his face. He slowly pealed himself off of you, the loss of him leaving you raw and empty.
He put distance between himself and the bed where you laid still as a rock. "You need to leave."
"Clayton." You whispered, sitting up and trying to cover yourself with his shirt that was now hanging off your shoulders.
"Now." You realized then you'd never actually seen him be cold and distant. All those other times you could still feel some sort of ardency underneath the surface.
But this, it was like he'd completely switched himself off.
"Please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just got caught up in the moment." You tried to plead but it fell on deaf ears.
"I'll get one of the security guards to drive you home. You have ten minutes." He turned and left the room without another word.
Violent sobs wracked through you, vision going blurry from tears. You adjusted his shirt so you were as covered as possible, his scent stinging your nose and making you nauseous as you made a beeline for the guest room.
It was like you blacked out. Suddenly fully dressed, your duffel bag packed and swinging over your shoulder. You barreled out of the bedroom and didn't stop until you felt the cool air of the outdoors fan over you.
You gasped for breath, struggling to get air into your lungs. You heard the opening of the front door and a distant voice which sent you bolting away to escape from this hell you'd put yourself in.
You heard a car door, moving gravel and the sound of an engine coming up behind you. Lights stretched out around you and you wanted to scream until your head exploded.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Clayton demanded from somewhere next to you.
"You t-told me to leave so I'm l-leaving." You muttered between sobs.
"I told you I'd have security take you back."
"I don't want your fucking security. I don't want anything from you." It was a lie and you both knew it and you wanted so badly to hit something. Anything that would release the fire building inside you.
"You're not walking home. It'll take you hours to get to your place." You stopped abruptly, swinging to face him. He made quick time in hitting the breaks and halting the car.
You stepped up to his window, leaning forward and got in his face.
"I never want to see you again, do you understand me? Don't fucking follow me or I swear to God I will ruin you." You'd never spoken to anyone with so much venom and distaste in your life.
He had the audacity to look wounded and regretful, his mouth opening to say something but closed again at the silent warning on your face.
You turned away, continuing your walk of shame. You heard the car rolling backwards and turn around back up the drive to the house.
Your heart ripped apart in your chest as he once again disappointed you.
He truly didn't love you, wasn't ever going to fight for you and that reality drove a knife into your heart and stayed with you long after you crawled into bed and everything went dark.
You wouldn't realize until you'd awoken after almost a full day of sleep that you were still wearing that stupid Hawaiian shirt.
5:20 AM. It's ridiculously early for anyone to wake up, especially somebody who isn't in the S.A.S anymore. Simon's gotten used to this routine, because of his insomnia he isn't used to sleeping long hours. The sun hasn't risen yet, but he finds himself reaching for a pack of cigs and a lighter, making his way outside to the front porch and having a cigarette. Blowing the smoke out, arms leaned over the railing as he looked out at the sky - almost trying to assess the weather. His life had changed a lot since he had gotten out. More time home meant that he had more time to make connections with people, connections that weren't quick hookups or idle chat at the pub. He had met somebody. Not just anybody, a single mom with a daughter of her own.
The thought almost seemed baffling, especially when he described it to the rest of his task force. He could hear Johnny's voice in his head - "Fuckin' hell Simon, when did you decide to become a daddy?" The snickers coming from his other teammates, met with a sharp glare from him. He didn't expect it himself, he never saw himself as a family man, nor did he really want to become one. Raising a brat at his age? If he wanted a kid he should have attempted a few years ago, but now it felt like he was a bit too 'old' to decide. Nonetheless, when the lady he met at the pub talked about her daughter, he stiffened. He thought about turning away, not showing up to the next date, either ghosting her or telling her it wouldn't work out. But he didn't. He sought it out, and the outcome? What a fucking mess. The reason he was up so early, not because of insomnia this time, but the urge to leave and get away for a while. He wished that Price would hit him up, asking him to return to his job and get deployed. He didn't run from fights, but he ran from nagging women. Especially ones that threatened to cheat on him with some bloke over something so petty - coming home later than expected, not answering his phone cause he was out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, shooting shit with Johnny and sharing drinks and stories.
It was a goddamn mess. Amanda wasn't even home, she decided that last night, she'd have fun of her own. And so, Simon woke up in an empty bed, came out to have a cig, and now...
A black Lexus is350 pulls beside his house, and here his girlfriend comes out, wearing a tight dress - the same one he approached her in at the pub. It's a short burgundy dress, that perfectly complements her pale skin and dark brown hair. Her makeup is smudged and she's walking up his driveway barefoot and holding her nude colored heels, her phone and purse tucked underneath her arm. Maybe she's so hungover that she doesn't even notice that Simon is sitting on the front porch, watching her. "Where 'ave you been?" He asks lowly, and she stiffens hearing his voice. She keeps her head low, "out." Her answer makes him want to roll his eyes. "Yeah?" He stands up, tossing the cigarette butt and blowing out the last bit of smoke. When he gets closer, he notices a purplish hue on her neck. His eyes narrow, "what the fuck?"
Her hand shoots up to cover her neck, "what are you doing?" He doesn't answer, his hand wraps around her wrist tightly, yanking it away from the obvious hickey. "You fuckin' serious? You that petty?" He sneered, and she scoffs in return. "Don't act all mad now. You've been fucking distant, and now you want to act like I'm still yours? Fuck off Simon." He blocks her path before she can make it to the front door, trying to hold back his anger but failing. It's always shown in him, the hardest feeling to hide out of all of them.
Hard to mask the clench of his jaw, tightening of his fist, the way his eyes narrow, staring right through her very being. "You're a fuckin' slut, you know tha'?"
Amanda decides that she shouldn't stay here. When she finally makes it past Simon, she walks to their shared bedroom and grabs her things. She doesn't bother to wake you up, she just packs a bag and leaves, getting in her car and getting the fuck out. Your mom's lack of accountability has always been her biggest issue. It's what caused the dispute in the last relationship, part of the reason why your dad had signed the divorce papers. Thankfully you two still kept in touch, but she was salty about that fact. By the time you wake up, you're heading out from the hallway and finding Simon, or your 'step-dad' making himself a mug of tea. "Good morning...where's my mom?" You yawn, grabbing a mug from the cupboard, starting up the coffee machine.
Your living situation has changed rather quickly, but you have adapted well to it. Your mom still had that apartment, but rarely would you two stay there. You thought her decision to move in with this guy, or rather move into his house was a rash decision, that she should have given more thought but didn't. Nonetheless, you were now here with him, and he wasn't an obnoxious person, obviously. He didn't say anything, standing still and drinking from his mug, his broad back facing you. When he sets down the mug, his voice lacks any emotion. "Left. Cheated on me with some fucker." Your eyes widen at the news. Not that it was unlike her, but for something to happen within a year into the relationship? You sigh, "I'm...really sorry." He glanced at you, "not your fault." He murmured, glancing back down into his mug. When you step closer, you notice a sheen layer of sweat across his skin. He's got grey sweats, that hang slightly low on his hips, just enough to give you a good visual of that pronounced V-line, the slight happy trail and otherwise trimmed chest. He's well built - tall, broad back and shoulders, muscular, that tapered waist that lots of men aimed for in the gym.
And, like any other man who's been in the military, he's very active. His garage is a makeshift gym, which you found out when accidentally walking in on him, shirtless and working out. "Oi." He says, nudging you. You blink, after realizing you've been staring at him, and you quickly look away. "Sorry, were you saying something?"
He almost smirks, but holds it back. "No. Just wonderin' why you're staring at me like I'm a piece of meat." Your eyes widen, "I'm not!" You quickly say, and he steps closer and it interrupts whatever you're going to say next. " 's alright. I'm used to it," he says, in a way that sounds both sarcastic but probably true. He's really good looking, especially at his age. You roll your eyes, "you're full of yourself. I was not...I was just thinking about what you said." Your footsteps circle around the island counter, reaching the fridge and pulling out the pumpkin flavored creamer. His nose scrunched at the sight but he fixed his face. "What? That she cheated?" He says gruffly, sipping his warm tea.
"yeah. I'm still sorry." You say, pouring just a tad bit of creamer into your mug. He looks away. "Don't worry 'bout it." There's a prolonged silence, between the sounds of you sipping your coffee and him sipping his tea, or the chirping of birds outside. It's almost 9 am, which means that Simon's been awake for about 3 hours and 40 minutes thinking about what to do next. Breaking up should've been the automatic solution, but something was stopping him from making that choice. Was it you? His gaze wandered over to you next, watching you sit at the island counter, scroll on your phone and drink your coffee. He doesn't know why he's always doing that - looking at you in that way. Assessing you. Judging. From the outside, you don't seem that different from other girls your age, you like shopping, hanging out with friends, like any other. But there are things about you that make him think you're innocent. When you don't understand the banter between him and your mom, certain dirty jokes. You just tilt your head and look up at him like you're so confused, like you want him to teach you.
Simon's not like that. He doesn't go for girls that young. Legality wasn't an issue, he just felt that eighteen still wasn't an adult, nor was nineteen. He had no issue dating women his own age, he felt that it was appropriate. But your charm and innocence, it was slowly drawing him towards you, like he was a bloody fish and you were the fisherman, slowly reeling him in, with your smiles and laughs, the way you're unaware of your own beauty. And a part of him thinks that it's just his mind fucking with him, or trying to get a sort of revenge, to have something to rub in her face. But it didn't feel like that. Conversation was natural between the two of you, he found himself talking to you more often than not. Before, he didn't pay much attention. You were already 'grown', it wasn't like you needed a parent. A stranger acting like your father, when you already had one in your life. That role wasn't for him to take. So he laid back.
It's another morning. Him and Amanda haven't spoken since, ignoring each other, avoiding at all costs. She was rarely home now, almost forgetting that she dragged her own daughter along in this. Simon notices this distance and tries to fix it by leaving the house more, maybe she won't feel so suffocated and will come back for you. But instead, when you tell him that she hasn't come back or called, his blood boils. When he brings it up to her, it leads to another fight, and somehow he's kicked out of his own fucking room. Before he can walk to the couch for the night, you poke your head out of your bedroom. "Simon." You whisper, and he turned to see you, looking up at him so innocently. "Yeah?" He says lowly, watching you motion for him to come inside. He pauses, but makes the decision to come in. Closing the door behind him, he finds you in pajamas - a light pink colored spaghetti strap tank top, grey short shorts that are so short they look like underwear. He wasn't very modest himself, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing on top.
"What?" He asks gruffly, muscular arms crossed over his chest, the action making his biceps bulge deliciously, a pretty vein popping from the muscle. "Sleep in here," you say, patting your queen sized bed. He looks reluctant. Knowing how this looks, you quickly reassure him. "I'll sleep on the floor or something, you should take the bed." He scoffs at that answer, not liking how nice you're being to him. "Hell no. M' takin the couch tonight." He says, watching you. All you do is shake your head, the action messing up your pretty hair. Fuck.
"Don't shake your head, you'll get yourself dizzy..." He mumbled, stepping closer. He glanced around the space, what used to be his guest room had turned into a room for you. Not much had changed, besides the pink bedding, stuffed animals, and vanity. "I won't. Why are you guys fighting?" You ask, sitting next to him. The size difference between you two makes him pause momentarily. "You." He says bluntly, not bothering to sugarcoat things. He looks at your face, he knows that look, you're getting ready to apologize. He scoffs and cuts you off. "Don't say sorry. I was tellin' her how she needs to be around you more. She takes everything I say the wrong way. We fought. End of story."
Something inside you feels warm, at the idea of him fighting for you. Seeing you smile suddenly, he feels the urge to replicate it. He doesn't. "What?"
"Nothing...that's just really sweet of you." At that, he scoffs again, but reaches out and messes up your hair, his fingers lingering in the soft strands a bit too long, sliding down to cup the side of your face. The sudden position feels intimate, the two of you looking at each other. His gaze drifts down, admiring the cleavage from your tank top, the way your thighs naturally squish together. Fuck, he shouldn't...
But then you start to lean in, and he finds himself drawn in, unable to stop. His stubble scratches at your soft skin, his lips are soft against yours. Your hand rests on his large arm, squeezing as you two deepen the kiss, becoming more needy, heated. His tongue's against yours, and he groans deeply, losing himself in the kiss. His dick is instantly hard, and he guides your hand to it. At your small gasp he smirks finally, "feel tha'?" He murmured, and at your shy nod he pushes himself into your palm, while his hand on top of yours pressed your hand down, giving him the much needed pressure. "Fuck..." He groans, "Fuck." Suddenly he takes your hand off his crotch, standing up immediately. The two of you are breathing heavily, looking at each other with a deep need. But he knows this isn't right, fuck.
"I want it." You suddenly say, standing up, pulling him closer. "Fuck me," he says, knowing he can't hold himself back any longer. "You're makin' it hard for me love..." He warns you, his brows furrowed. "I only want to make you hard." Your words catch him off guard. "This ..this isn't anything like a revenge." He says, looking at you, "you understand, yeah?"
To show him that you in fact, do understand, you pull him close again, and kiss him. The kiss leaves you both panting, licking each other's tongues, his mouth trailing down your jaw. He pushes you back onto the bed, unbuckling his belt, kicking his jeans off, until he's in his boxers, in between your opened legs. Using your hips, he pulls you up and closer into him, kissing you hard, pressing his dick against your own clothed pussy. Your shorts are so thin that he can feel that cunt throbbing for him, and it makes him pull back, pressing open mouthed kisses down your neck, down to your cleavage where he yanks down the top of your tank top, freeing those perfect tits. "Been wanting this so fucking long." He says, sucking on one of your nipples, a hand clasping over your mouth to keep you from making noise. The other hand squeezes your other tit, before he switches, and then tears off your tank top. "Simon..." You pant. "Yeah?" He says, kissing your belly, then kissing you right through your shorts. "I...it's my first time."
He stops completely, looking up at you from between your legs. He sits up, still kneeling between your legs. "It is?" He almost looks worried but it's hard to tell, he's a master at hiding how he truly feels. "No, I'm just messing with you." You giggled softly, and he lets out a grunt. "Not funny." A sudden, yet hot kiss right to your clothed cunt stops your laughter, making you push your hips up into his mouth. He groans, licking and sucking through your shorts. "Wanna taste this pretty cunt...make you fuckin' cry and beg for more," he says, deliberately teasing you and knowing it. The look on your face has him so fucking hard, the way your brows are furrowed with frustration, the part of your pretty lips, letting out pretty noises and frustrated whines. "Look at you..." He says, slowly pulling your shorts down, purposely leaving your panties on. He internally admires the lacey white, leaning down and licking through your sheer panties, making your hands tug down at the straps. "Stop." He grabs your wrists, sitting up on his knees again. He grabs a hold of his belt, the sound of it swishing out of the denim loops makes you lift your head to see, and now he's restraining your hands above your head, buckling them together. "You look so fucking innocent. And look at you...spreading your fuckin' legs for me. You want me to eat this pussy?" He asks, licking your bikini line, and you quickly nod. "Yes Simon, yes..." Your hips push up, but he holds them down.
He spanks your cunt, making your thighs tuck up to your chest, a whimper escaping your mouth. "Not Simon. Sir. You got tha'?" He grabs your neck, and you nod quickly, "yes sir."
"Good." He says, tearing your panties off, the noise of lace ripping makes you almost cringe. "I'll buy you more. And rip those off too." He says, wasting no time, spreading your pussy open, eyes glinting at how wet you are. He runs his finger up and down your slit, the light, wet squelching making his cock throb. "Such a dirty fucking girl...getting wet for your step-daddy." He says mockingly, watching how you try to tuck your thighs closer to hide how wet you are, like it's embarrassing. He pries them open, leaning down and licking as stripe up your pussy, sucking on a lip before his tongue delves in between your folds, eventually making its way up to your clit, sucking on it hard.
Your moans get silenced by a rough palm, his eyes warning you to stay silent, but it's nearly impossible when his mouth is making you feel so fucking good. You whine against his palm, his fingers squeeze your face enough to shut you up. A finger rubs against your weeping slit, prying inside you, curling up and hitting your sweet spot, your pussy soaking his face as you cum hard. It feels hot and warm, a gush between your legs as he sucked hard on your clit. You panted heavily, removing his hand off your mouth, "fuck..." You panted, watching as he stood up, his cock rock hard in his boxers. "Take em off." He orders you, letting you catch your breath before you sit up on your knees, kneeling by the edge of the bed as you pull down his boxers, his cock bobbing as it's released from its confines. His large hand tangled in your hair. "Want me to be rough with you?" He asks, seeking permission, wanting to see what you liked. Seeing you nod so eagerly, he doesn't hesitate. He smacks you, not hard but not softly, before grabbing your face. "Spit on it," he instructs, holding the base of his cock, stepping closer and pushing the pink tip to your lips. You gather the spit in your mouth, before spitting on his length. Once he's satisfied, he tightens his grip in your hair slightly, "spread it around with your tongue. Fuck, jus' like that...nice and slow," he groans, feeling the warmth of your tongue, sliding up and down his length, tracing a vein on his cock. He lifts his dick slightly, letting you lick underneath. "Fuck baby...lick it up, slowly." His hand tightens, watching as you lick up the length of his cock again, your tongue wrapping around his tip, making you suck. He pushes himself slowly into your mouth, slowly thrusting, trying not to groan. It was so fucking hot but also taboo, fucking his own step-daughter like this... Watching his dick disappear into that pretty mouth.
You moan around his cock, relishing in the way he fills your mouth so fucking good. It was hard to hide the surprise on your face, he was fucking big and thick. "Fuck yeah..." He groans, "take that dick," he hisses, fucking your mouth urgently. You suck him deep, obediently, looking up at him and holding onto his hips. He pulls you off his cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting to his length and tip, "suck on my balls too," he says, watching as you obey immediately, sucking and licking on one, making his eyes roll back. He groans as you suck your way back up to his cock, slowly pumping the base while sucking on the tip, taking him in deep again, letting him fuck your mouth. "Good fucking girl," he praises, grunting quietly as he cums hard into your mouth. "Swallow it." He says sternly, squeezing your cheeks together after pulling his cock out of your mouth. When he sees your throat bob, he slips a thumb in.
"We can't fuck right now. You won't be able to be quiet," he murmured into your ear, kissing your jaw. The way he's so confident in his own abilities, it's so fucking hot. "What makes you so confident?" You say, almost defiantly. He lays you down slowly, "you want me to show you, love?"
He didn't lie. Your hands, or his replacing yours, weren't enough. You were moaning into his rough palm, your legs spread open, with him pounding into your pussy, his heavy balls smacking your ass as your pussy sucked him in deep. He was groaning lowly, "so fucking tight." "Dirty fucking girl, taking her step-dads dick. Be quiet, your mom's gonna wake up." He warns into your ear, while pounding into you harder and faster. His cock fills you up so well, stretching your pussy out deliciously. It's so hard to stay quiet, it almost makes you wish you hadn't challenged him, but at the same time it feels so fucking good you're in pure ecstacy.
"feels so good, fuck, I'm so full," you moan, almost sounding incoherent with his hand slipping on and off your mouth, a hand smacking you when you don't keep your promise of staying quiet. "Stay quiet," he hisses, "I fucking ..can't," you say in between pants, eyes rolling back when his thumb rubs over your wet clit, creating a delicious, squelching sound, adding to the noise of his heavy cock fucking you deep.
"I told you..." He says, his jaw clenched as he feels himself getting ready to cum. Your pussy squeezing him hard lets him know you're so close, and he hits that spongy spot inside of you so right. He can feel you pulsing, your pussy squeezing him as you cry out, your orgasm hitting you hard. He groans, burying himself deep inside of you, pounding you fast and hard as he cums, filling you up so deep. Your pussy pushes his cock out, leaving a thick stream of cum leaking from your hole. "Fuck." He grunted, spreading your lips open, "such a pretty fucking pussy. Could be balls deep in this every fucking night."
The feeling of his cock popping out of your pussy makes you whimper at the loss, suddenly feeling so empty from the loss of this. Simon notices and leans down, kissing your neck and murmuring into your ear "I'll be back soon."
Amanda didn't bother to ask why. Why was he blatantly ignoring her long after their fight? Was he still mad about her cheating? Should she tell him the truth?
She was so anxious, she couldn't think. She couldn't come home. But, she couldn't afford to leave either. She couldn't just move back to her apartment and prove her ex-husband right, that she couldn't keep a man and that she couldn't find stability without him. But could she endure this for any longer? Acting like she was keeping busy at work, when in reality she was taking the thirty minute drive to another man's house? And Simon, he was smart. He should have known her cheating didn't stop that one night. Fucking hell, maybe it had started before then and he had just noticed. But now, he was no better than Amanda. Fucking her daughter, someone who shouldn't even be thinking about a man his age. He was fucked up, everything was so fucked up. He couldn't admit that to her. The one thing, he wasn't strong enough to do.
After Simon realized that he was no longer better than Amanda, he was torn. Torn between breaking up with her, or keeping this 'relationship' going just because. It was pointless to keep it going, two people cheating on each other, no love left. Just empty glances at each other, going back to friends. He should break it off with her. Amanda doesn't want that.
The apartment the two of you used to live in, it was gone. She didn't have the funds for it, nor did she want to move back into the area. Then it meant using Simon for his house. If her daughter was safe under a roof, clothed and fed, nothing else should matter, right? Amanda was oblivious. She wasn't home to see the signs. And that was a good thing.
Simon was worried about getting caught, not for the reason of hurting Amanda's feelings, but potentially ruining your relationship with your mom. He didn't want that, seeing that she wasn't around much regardless, he didn't want to make things worse. If anything, you could live with your father, who treated you right, but then it leaves another issue - how would he feel seeing a man nearly his age, coming to see his daughter? Knowing Amanda's boyfriend was fucking his precious little daughter?
There were too many issues behind it. It was like Simon and Amanda had almost come to some kind of mutual agreement - pretend they didn't exist. Simon got closer to you. He wasn't there for the sex, or the thrill, he liked being around you. Liked taking care of you, fucking you too, it was a bonus. He liked spoiling you, lots now. Buying you anything, ranging from makeup to clothes, to necessities, or even lingerie that he'd have you model for him, and put to use. Whatever the case may be, he was content and happy, as long as he keeps you spoiled and spread.
summary: Harry has just been named Chief of Surgery at his hospital, and he's also just purchased a rather extravagant home. When he's voluntold to host a holiday party, he realizes he's going to need an interior designer. Harry's best friend Joey recommends his younger sister Ally for the job. (Inspired by the 5SOS song of the same name)
a/n: hiiii this is a patreon exclusive fic! it's still ongoing. I just posted part 9 yesterday, so plenty to read while I continue writing. This is the only part that will be posted on here. and if you like this, you can read all of the other fics I have on patreon. I have a ton of completed series and one shots :D
warnings: age gap (H is 40 and Ally is 25), slow burn
words: 7K
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I don't wanna think about a moment with you
Harry was given the promotion of a lifetime – chief of surgery. At the age of forty, Harry is the youngest surgeon to be made chief at Cambridge Hospital. He attended Harvard Medical School and began at Cambridge as an intern after graduating as many do. He saw a lot in his first year of residency. Someone died on his first day observing surgery, and he nearly threw up when he saw the amount of blood splattered all over the floor. Luckily, he was assigned a very good mentor, a female surgeon he greatly admired, and she helped him through the tougher days. She didn’t coddle him, she didn’t mother him, and sometimes she gave him some serious tough love, but she was instrumental to his success. She’d pull him in constantly, impressed with his dexterity and ability to think on his feet. When things go wrong in the OR, you need to be able to stay grounded and think fast.
The first year is always the most difficult. During his second and third year as a resident, he decided he wanted to specialize in thoracic surgery – a branch that focuses on the organs and structures in the chest cavity, including the lungs, heart ,esophagus, and trachea. He still assisted on orthopedic surgeries, oncology related surgeries, and sever trauma cases that came into the ER, but his primary, day-to-day shifts consisted of thoracic surgeries. A lot of patients come in needing emergency surgeries on the organs he wanted to work on, so it sort of just worked out.
His stats were exemplary. While other, more experienced surgeons lost people on their tables, Harry was the exception. It was extremely rare if someone died on Harry’s table. It still happened, certain things can go wrong in a perfect storm, but when it came down to it, most attending surgeons called for Harry to assist them in the OR. They recognized his talent, and that made him feel good. It made him feel like he was definitely where he was supposed to be.
Nine years went by in a flash. That’s typically how long a standard residency is for a surgeon. For year ten, he took on a fellowship so he could further his specialization in thoracic surgery. Fellowships aren’t’ mandatory, but they enhance surgical skills and can lead to higher salaries and more complex career opportunities within hospitals or private practices. Not that Harry wanted to leave Cambridge. He didn’t want to go into business for himself. He didn’t want to have his own clinic that he’d never be at since he’d need to be in the hospital checking on his patients.
After the fellowship, publishing some research, acting as a guest lecturer for current med students, and passing his boards, Harry was offered an attending surgeon position. The chief of surgery at the time saw so much potential in him, and wanted to show Harry that Cambridge was a place he could set roots down in. Harry was honored, and he accepted the position. It was a no brainer.
Because of his experience, his low death rates and high success rates, and his specialization in thoraxes, Harry was offered a salary of $600,000. He didn’t do so at work, but the second he got home, he cried. He’d be able to pay off all his student loans, and he’d be able to buy a home so he wouldn’t have to keep renting. At thirty-four, Harry felt extremely satisfied with how his life had turned out.
The next six years consisted of complicated surgeries, lots of sleepless nights, heart ache, awards in excellence, mentorship, and assisting on high-profile cases. Dr. Harry Styles was a well-known name amongst most med students, and first-years always fed his narcissistic ego. They fawned over him, and he let them. His cardiovascular research and innovative techniques were nothing to sneeze at. He was making a difference not just at Cambridge Hospital, but all over the world.
When his predecessor, Dr. Whitman, asked Harry to come to a meeting with the board members of the hospital, he was a little nervous. Had he slipped up? Did he do something wrong? Did a nurse mistake a rare smile as flirting?
“Dr. Styles, come in.” The CEO, Dr. Needham, smiled. “Thank you for taking the time to join us today.”
“Of course.” Harry sat down and looked at everyone. His old mentor, Dr. Spanos was sitting across from him, smiling brightly.
“As most of you know, I’ll be retiring at the end of the fiscal year. I’ve been a doctor for forty-years, and ten of those have been spent as this hospital’s CEO. I’ve been extremely blessed. I’ve called you all in here today to announce who our next CEO is.”
Harry wasn’t sure why he was pulled into this meeting. None of the other attending doctors were there. What the fuck was going on.
“Myself, and the rest of the board, thought long and hard about who would be best to take over. We had a large pool of people to choose from. We didn’t look anywhere outside of this hospital or Harvard, so it’s all internal. We felt that the best person to do this job should be someone who’s been here and knows this place. We also felt it should be someone who strives for excellence, someone who won’t be afraid of progress or change. We didn’t want a good ol’ boy.” Harry for sure thought Dr. Needham was going to name Dr. Whitman as the next CEO. “This person already knows they’ll be taking over.” The silence was deafening. All of the color drained from Dr. Whitman’s face. “Please join me in congratulating Dr. Melanie Spanos, the new CEO of Cambridge Hospital.”
Everyone stood up and clapped, and many cheered. Dr. Spanos stood and thanked everyone before sitting back down. She was about to go on speaking when Dr. Whitman interrupted her.
“This is outrageous!” He slammed his hands on the table.
“Richard,I-“
“No!” Dr. Whitman cut off Dr. Needham. “She’s not even the chief of anything! She’s not the chief of medicine; she’s not the chief of surgery.”
“Richard, Melanie has been here the same amount of time as you.” Dr. Needham says.
“Exactly! I’m in a higher-ranking position than she is.”
“She has done more for this hospital than you have.” The CFO says. “You’ve cost this hospital hundreds of millions of dollars over the years.”
“All from lawsuits.” The head of legal says.
“Melanie’s research organ donation and transference, and what she and her team have been able to accomplish due to the new tactics and technology-“
“So bump me up and make her the chief of surgery!”
“If you cut me off one more time,” Dr. Needham warns.
“This is insane.” Dr. Whitman scoffs. “Let’s just call this what this is – a diversity hire. She’s a pretty woman in STEM that you want to be able to brag about. You’re gonna slap her picture on everything, and the hospital will be given kudos until the end of time because she’ll be the first female CEO this hospital has ever had.”
“That’s the problem.” Dr. Needham sighs. “This hospital, and Harvard if I’m being honest, has a history of overlooking women. We were objective in our decision. Mel’s success rate is higher than yours, the doctors she’s directly mentored are doing phenomenally, and she doesn’t get worked up when something doesn’t go her way. I was raised in a very different era, but even I can recognize raw talent when I see it. Not to mention the philanthropic work Mel’s done for this hospital. Once we sat down and really looked over all of her accomplishments, the decision was made much easier.”
“Why’d you have me pull Styles in for this?” Dr. Whitman asks carefully.
Harry was wondering the same thing, of course, but he didn’t dare speak.
“Because Dr. Styles’ is Melanie’s most successful mentee, we thought it would be nice for him to be here on her special day.” Dr. Needham sits back and takes a sip of his coffee. “And because we’re going to have a vacancy that we’d like him to fill. You’re fired, Richard.”
“What?!” Dr. Whitman stands, enraged. “You’re firing me publicly?! For what?!”
“I thought the punishment should fit the crime. I witnessed you screaming at a group of nurses for having not restocked the K-cups for the Keurig at their station that you happen to like to use. You’ve lost the plot completely.” Dr. Needham sighs, then looks at Harry. “My granddaughter taught me that phrase.” He looks back at Dr. Whitman. “Security is waiting outside for you. You’ll go pack your things, and then you’re out of here. The entire board has voted on it, you’re out.”
After more yelling, and two security guard forcibly having to remove Dr. Whitman, the room falls silent.
“In all honesty, that went better than I expected.” Dr. Spanos says, lightening the mood. “Thank you all so much for this opportunity, and for having my back. I’m so honored. I can’t wait to have a larger part in helping this place continue to be one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. And Harry,” she smiles warmly at him, “the board asked me who I think would make a good chief of surgery, and you were the only person I could think of.”
“We have a contract ready to go over with you.” The head of legal says brightly. “We can look it over and then you can take the night to sleep on it.”
“I’m floored, I…thank you.” Harry manages to say. “You don’t think I’m too young? Richard was fifty-five when he took on the role.”
“Normally, we’d go with someone that’s had more years in the game.” Dr. Needham says thoughtfully, “but after Mel recommended you, we looked further into your time here. Harry, you were integral during COVID-19. You worked countless hours in the ER doing work you didn’t need to. You helped get more PPE, you…you spoke with families and helped them through their grief. You’re more than just a surgeon, and the chief of surgery should know that, they should be someone who checks their ego at the door and helps no matter what. I speak for all of us when I say, you’ve earned this.”
Harry swallows down a lump in his throat, not wanting to get too emotional. “Thank you, sir. I…thank you, everyone.”
Melanie grins at Harry, and he grins back. He’s relieved that some of his worse moments didn’t knock him out of the running. There have been plenty of times he hadn’t checked his ego at the door. There have been times he’s yelled at people, there have been times he’s turned his nose up, but he supposes he’s excellent in a crisis. So here he is. The youngest chief of surgery this hospital has ever seen.
//
Something Harry wasn’t expecting as chief of surgery were all the social events he was obligated to attend. Not only that, but he also needed to host social gatherings.
As a treat to himself, he bought a very expensive townhome in Beacon Hill. It’s been a huge undertaking. He never bought a home before. His contract is more permanent now, so he felt like he could finally buy one. Word of this got around, so Dr. Spanos voluntold Harry to host a holiday party. He’d have the space, they’d get it catered, and it would be a good chance to schmooze the higher ups while showing his subordinates that he’s still human. Those were all of the reasons Dr. Spanos gave him, anyways.
The problem with all of this is, Harry’s never liked hosting things in his home. He prefers to keep his personal life private. He made the mistake of being public once, and that was enough for him. He’ll never let himself be vulnerable in that sense ever again.
Another problem is that he hasn’t had time to turn the house into a home. He needs to hire a decorator, and now he needs to do it fast because the holidays will be here before he knows it, and he will not make a fool of himself. He knows the home needs to feel warm and welcoming. Harry just…doesn’t give a fuck about decorations, nor does he feel shopping to be a good use of his time. He’ll happily pay someone to do it for him.
Hiring someone, though, requires doing research and shopping around. This will be another waste of time.
“Why don’t you ask Ally?” Harry’s friend Joey says over the phone.
“Your sister?”
“Yeah, she’s an interior designer, she went to art school, remember?”
“Did I remember that your kid sister when to art school? No, I didn’t.” Harry chuckles.
“Regardless, she’s more than qualified for the job. She’s got her own LLC, but it’s been slow going. Her business is all word of mouth. If you hire her, you can brag about her to your affluent friends so she can build a pristine clientele. She’s busting her ass to do what she loves. I’d love it if she didn’t have so many stressors.”
“Stressors outside of work?”
“Yeah.” Joey sighed. “She refuses to get into it with me, but she and her boyfriend broke up, and they were living together. She’s been crashing at her friend’s place, but that’s getting old.”
“She can’t just move in with you for a bit? Or your parents?”
“Would you want to do that if you were down on your luck?”
“You two get along great.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to live with me, and I don’t want to live with her. I’m barely around, my place is tiny, and I’d be mortified if she heard me getting it on with whatever guy I take home from a bar.”
“Fair enough.”
“Hey! Maybe she could rent a room from you. Your place is huge. You could give her a floor to herself or a wing or however the fuck your house is set up.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “not only do you want me to hire your sister to decorate my house-“
“Interior design.”
“Same thing!”
“It’s not!”
“You want her to design my interiors, and live with me? That’s not exactly professional.”
“Look, you’re barely home as it is, it’s not like you’ll be stepping on each other’s toes. Plus, your entire house needs help. It’ll be more convenient for her to be there for deliveries or whatever. She’d be able to get it done faster this way too.” He pauses for a beat. “Listen, I have no idea if she would even say yes, but I feel terrible. She’s my baby sister, man.”
“Ugh.” Harry groans. “Christ, okay, give her my number, and tell her to call me. I’m off tomorrow. If she can be here between ten and noon, she’s welcome to come by.”
“Heard! I’ll text her right now. You won’t regret this, I promise.”
Harry sighs and hangs up. A girl might be living with him. He hasn’t lived with a girl since…
“Fuck.” He groans. “Fuck, this is gonna be a shit show.”
Ally is only twenty-five. She’s a baby. And Harry isn’t a babysitter. Sure, he helped Joey babysit her when she was little, but that was totally different. At least he never had to change one of her diapers. That would’ve just been weird.
He can’t even remember the last time he saw Ally. Harry hasn’t been able to go to a Feldman family gathering in ages. He prioritizes work, but he’s always made time for Joey. They talk on the phone at least once a week. Without the Feldmans, Harry wouldn’t be where he is today. He supposes he owes it to all of them to help out Ally.
Once that rationale is placed in his mind, he calms down. He pours himself a glass of scotch, downs it, then heads to bed.
//
The next morning, a ford escape pulls into Harry’s semi circle driveway. Ally never even called, she just told Joey to tell Harry that she’d be there at ten. Harry was just coming up from the basement, where his home gym is, when he heard the doorbell.
He opens the door with his t-shirt sticking to his sweaty torso, and a pair of shorts. His hair is wet, his muscles are bulging and glistening, and he’s tapping his foot impatiently waiting for Ally to get out of the fucking car.
The door opens and out pops a foot with a combat boot on it. Ally jumps out of the car, and Harry takes her in. She’s a little thing, not much taller than five feet, and that’s while wearing boots! She looks very chic in a pair of dark denim skinny jeans, a long sleeve green top and a scarf around her neck that has fall colored leaves on it. Her hair is just down past her shoulders. Dark brown with blond highlights, a slight bounce to it. Her cheeks flush pink as she approaches Harry.
“Hi.” She smiles sheepishly, then looks away. “Thanks for being open to this. I’m a little embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Because my big brother-“
“Look at me when you’re talking to me.” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What?” She looks at him, cheeks even redder now.
“You weren’t looking at me. That’s very rude.”
“Sorry.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Anyways, uh, having my big brother rescue me is embarrassing. I didn’t even want to accept the help until he told me that you were on a time crunch to have your place made up. I…he mentioned me staying with you, but I’m fine to keep crashing on my friend’s couch. I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“Why continue to get horrible sleep on a presumably lumpy couch when you can have your own space and a bed for free?”
“No, I’d rent-“
“No, you’re already going to be working for me. I’m not going to have us passing money back and forth, it’ll get complicated.”
“You haven’t even looked at my portfolio yet, how do you know I’m the right fit for the job? You should be shopping around and-“
“I don’t have the time for all of that.”
“Let me at least show you what I’ve done previously. I want to make sure you’ll be happy with me.”
“Happy with you?”
“My work, happy with my work.”
Harry narrows his eyes, then sighs before stepping aside to let her in. Ally stops short, completely shocked.
“Oh, my God…” she looks up at him. “Where’s all your furniture?”
“I don’t have any.”
“But…” she makes her way through the foyer until she’s found one of the living rooms. “You don’t even have a sofa or a TV.”
“I have a TV in my gym downstairs. I’m barely home. I have my bedroom mostly made up and the gym. The guest room has a bed and dresser in it, but that’s all.”
“How many guest rooms do yo have?”
“I don’t know, five?”
“You have a six-bedroom house?!”
“Yeah.”
“And it’s just you here?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you buy such a big place?”
“Because I could.” He snaps, taking her aback. “Show me whatever you need to show me so we can get the formalities over and done with.” He heads into his kitchen, and she scampers after him.
“Okay.” She takes a binder out of her bag and sets it on the counter. “You don’t even have stools…”
“I eat standing up or on the go. It wasn’t a priority.” He stands beside her and flips through her portfolio. She looks up at him the entire time. “Why are you staring?” He looks down at her. “Do I stink? I just worked out.”
“No! You smell really good, that is, uh, not that I was smelling you, I didn’t even realize I was staring, I’m sorry.”
“Have you always been this skittish?”
“I just haven’t seen you in a really long time, you look so much older. But not in a bad way! You’re distinguished, like, a real man. Not that I’m projecting a type of masculinity onto you-“
“Ally.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Can you just draw up some sort of contract so we can move forward?”
“I need you to take me through the entire house, room by room, and we need to discuss your vision. We need to talk about colors, patterns, fabrics-“
“Isn’t that stuff you can handle on your own? I truly don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
“But you should.” She frowns. “If you want to make a house a home, it needs to have your essence sprinkled throughout.”
“The only reason I need this place to look homey is because I’m hosting a holiday party.”
“So, what, if you weren’t having a party you would’ve just gone on living like this? No furniture, no decorations, no…no nothing? What’s the point of having this big, beautiful house if you’re not going to enjoy it?”
“You said you needed a tour, let’s start in the basement.” He looks down at her, furrowing his brows. “Hm, interesting.”
“What?”
“I didn’t realize you had so many freckles. Joey doesn’t have any.”
“I get more sun than he does.” She murmurs.
“Apparently.”
They’re quiet as Harry leads her downstairs. Ally’s actually impressed with the setup. She makes a few notes on her iPad, writing away with her stylus. She takes a few pictures of the room, then follows Harry into the laundry area. He shows her the shoots and how he has a basket underneath to catch everything. It’s a huge laundry room. There’s also a spare bedroom and three-quarter bath.
“I guess you could call this the servant’s quarters. There used to be a kitchenette down here, but I had it torn out since I knew I wasn’t going to have a live-in housekeeper or rent out the space. But there’s a door that leads out to the street over there, and another that goes to the backyard.”
“Wow.” She takes a few more pictures. “What would you like to do with all of this space? Maybe your office could go in this bedroom?”
“No, my study’s on the main level upstairs.”
“Man-cave with a wet bar?”
“There’s a wet bar in the drawing room. No one who comes over needs to come down into my basement. I have my gym down here, and I’m going to use the bedroom as storage. You can see I already started organizing things in here.”
“I can get you racks and bins.” She scribbles onto her tablet. “Wanna show me outside?”
“What for?”
“So when you’re entertaining people they can go outside.”
“In the winter?”
“You’ll want it for the summer. We can go to Home Depot or Lowe’s or wherever and pick you out a nice grill.” She walks ahead of him and goes up the two steps to open the door and goes outside. “Oh, my goodness! This patio is gorgeous!” She walks around, impressed with the covered area that has paddle fans. “Harry, I have a radical idea.”
“What?”
“Have you ever watched triple D?”
“Triple what?”
“Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.”
“Does it look like I watch that?” He can’t help but smirk.
“Just…roll with me for a second. During COVID, Guy Fieri sort of rearranged things so chefs from different places could send him the ingredients for their signature dishes, and Guy and his son would cook them outside while the chefs were on zoom guiding them through everything. Guy’s outdoor kitchen is one of the most beautiful outdoor cooking spaces I’ve ever seen. It looks like a poolside full-service bar. This space could easily be transformed into something like that. Just think, if you do any hosting in the spring or summer, you could have everyone outside, and if you have the event catered, the cooks will be able to be outside with everyone too! Not to mention the value it would add to the home. Oh! You have one of those electric pool covers!” She walks swiftly over to the inground pool. “Please, please, please let me transform your outdoor space too. I have so many ideas.” She takes a ton of pictures and makes a ton of notes while Harry just stands there, totally baffled.
“Let’s focus on the inside first.”
“Sure, okay.” She nods. “Does this lead back to the kitchen?” She gestures toward the sliding door and Harry nods.
They move through the main level pretty quickly. There are two living rooms, one that’s more of a sitting room and another that screams family room. Ally continues to take pictures and scribble away at her screen.
“And this is my study.” Harry unlocks the door and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a mess right now, I haven’t had time to get organized. This is the one room I’ll make time to go shopping for. I’d like to pick out the desk and bookshelves.”
“What furniture did you have at your last place?”
“Nothing special. It was already furnished, and I didn’t take anything with me when I moved.”
“You’ll need a solid filing system.” She taps the stylus against her bottom lip before writing a few things down. “How many bathrooms are on this floor?”
“Two half baths.”
“Okay, and upstairs?”
“Let’s make our way. The next floor up has three guest rooms. One of which is where you’ll be staying.”
Ally nods and follows Harry up the stairs, showing her each room. They all have their own bathroom. They go up one more flight of stairs to Harry’s primary suite. There’s another bedroom on the floor, though.
“That’s locked.” He tells her when she goes to reach for the knob.
“Okay, unlock it.”
“That room doesn’t need decorating.”
“What’s in there?”
“None of your business.” He snaps. “I think it was used as a nursery at one point, which makes sense considering the primary bedroom is up here. It’s small, I’m using it as a spare closet. It’s all set.”
“Your bedroom doesn’t have a big enough closet?”
“It does…”
“Is this just for storage, then? We could get containers or bins or shelves-“
“Save all of that for the other part of the basement.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go see your bedroom.”
Harry leads her in there. She observes the minimalist furniture.
“A four-poster bed? How regal.” She looks up at him, and he just rolls his eyes before showing her to his walk-in closet. “Holy shit, this is so underutilized! We could build in so many cool things. One of my friends-“
“Ally, I truly don’t care what you do. Just do it.”
“Are you going to be this grouchy the whole time?”
“I’m not grouchy.”
“You are, though. Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re fine, I’m just stressed.”
“I can see why.” She nods. “Let me take a day or two to go over all my notes and pictures, then I’ll show you some mockups and design ideas. You can approve what you like, and then I can take the shopping from there. I know you think being more involved is a waste of time, but the last thing I want to do is spend all your money on things you won’t like.”
“Alright, in the meantime, you can move in and-“
“Harry, I’m just gonna stay at-“
“Don’t interrupt me.”
“You’ve been interrupting me this entire time and I haven’t said a thing.” She pouts.
“Look, this is important to Joey, so it’s important to me. I understand this isn’t a conventional situation, you wouldn’t normally live with a client, but I have a lot that needs to be done, and it’ll be easier having you here. You’d be around for deliveries; you can sign for things.”
“It’s just…for the first time in years, I’m not living with a guy. I wanted a chance to live on my own.”
“It’s not like you’re gonna stay here forever. Stay here until the job is done. By that point, you’ll have made some money so you can put down first and last month’s rent at a nice place. It’s not like you and I are gonna be constantly running into each other anyways. You’ll be an entire floor below me with your own bathroom. You’re welcome to anything in the house, use my gym, just wipe everything down when you’re done.”
“But, Harry-“
“End of discussion.” He says with gravel in this throat. “Don’t argue with me, Ally, you won’t win.” Her mouth falls open at that, and he takes a step forward, curling his index finger under her chin to bring her jaw back up off the floor. “Is all your stuff in your car, or do you need to go back to your friend’s place to pack?”
“It’s…it’s all in my car.”
“Good, I’ll help you bring everything in. You can get settled and then work on your unnecessary mockups.”
Without another word, Ally follows Harry out to her car, and he helps bring everything in and up to her new bedroom. It wasn’t much, so it didn’t take long.
“Thanks.” She says when he brings up the last suitcase.
“This is really all you had?”
“Yeah.”
“How long were you and your ex living together for?”
“Too long.” She mutters under her breath.
“Pardon?”
“Does it matter? This was all I needed and wanted. I let him deal with all the furniture.”
“Breaking up after living with someone is really tough. Your entire routine is shot to hell. Joey mentioned that you didn’t tell him much about the breakup. From spending just a few hours with you today, I can tell you’re a talker. Did something serious happen that caused the breakup? If you don’t talk about it, you won’t be able to move on properly.”
“You don’t strike me as a very good listener.”
“I listen to my patients.”
“I’m not your patient. Unless you want to lobotomize me, that is.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Harry, I don’t want to talk about it, can you just respect that? You weren’t exactly an open book to my family when you got divorced, so I know you understand.”
Harry’s features harden and his jaw tightens. He gives her a curt nod. “Well, I need to go.”
“I thought you were off today.”
“I am, but I have errands to run.”
“So do I, I need to go to Michael’s.”
“For what?”
“Vision boards, duh.” She scoffs. “I need to be able to give you proper visuals. What errands do you need to run?”
“I have to go grocery shopping.”
“Okay, let’s just go together. I’ll need to go grocery shopping too for my own stuff.”
“But that would mean I’d need to go to Michael’s with you.”
“You can sit in the car if you think it would be that torturous to go into a craft store.” She snorts.
“Alright.” He sighs. “Let me go take a quick shower and then we can head out.”
A little while later, the two are in Harry’s car. They decide to go to Michael’s first. Harry sits in the car while Ally goes inside. He figured she’d be quick, but when twenty minutes goes by, he sighs heavily, turns the car off, then heads in to find her.
He finds Ally on her knees in an aisle with fabric swatches as she picks them up and puts them down.
“Ally.” He says, startling her. He sighs and helps her to her feet after she falls back on her bum. “What’s taking so long?”
“I’m picking out fabrics for each aesthetic.” She nods towards her cart. “I’m almost done.”
“Don’t you just pick that out at the furniture store?”
“No, I go into the furniture store to find the right piece and I tell them what fabric I want it upholstered with. Trust the process.”
“Well, speed up the process.”
“We’re not in the hospital right now, not everything needs to be so urgent.”
He narrows his eyes at her, then ends up scowling as he follows her around the store as she adds more and more things to her cart. When she’s finally ready to check out, Harry slips in front of her to hand his AMEX card to the cashier.
“Here.” He hands it to Ally afterwards. “You can use this to buy whatever for the house. I’ll let AMEX know I’ll be making some out of the ordinary purchases.”
“Wow.” She looks down at the black card. “You really trust me that much?”
“If you run away with it, I can just cancel the card.” He shrugs.
Harry pushes the cart out to his car and doesn’t let Ally load it, he does everything while she patiently sits in the passenger seat. The ride to the grocery store is comfortably quiet, and she’s endeared by how many reusable shopping bags he pulls out.
“What do you usually get?” She asks as he once again pushes the cart for her.
“I eat a lot of protein, variety of fish and chicken, heart healthy stuff. I don’t eat red meat unless I’m at a nice dinner, that’s when I let myself indulge with a steak or burger or something like that.”
“Fish and chicken.” She nods.
“What about you?”
“I eat a lot of frozen meals.”
“Ally…” Harry stops short. “Frozen meals are loaded with sodium.”
“I know, I look at how much each one has and get the lowest.”
“You’re going to eat what I eat from now on. I’d rather you not drop dead from heart disease while you’re under my roof.”
“Right, you’re a heart doctor.”
“I’m a thoracic surgeon.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It means I perform surgeries on all internal organs in the chest area. A lot of my research is in cardiovascular wellness, so you weren’t completely wrong.” They continue down the aisles. Harry goes over to the fish counter and gets salmon fillets before looking over boneless, skinless chicken breasts. He notices Ally frowning out of the corner of his eye. “What?”
“It’s just…does it have to be chicken breast? Can’t you at least get thighs? I’m fine with it being boneless and skinless but breasts are so dry. The thighs are way juicier and taste so much better.”
“I’ll get one package of thighs for you, but you will try the chicken breast that I make.”
“Don’t be so infantilizing.” She huffs.
“Then stop acting like an infant.” He brushes by her on his way to the cereal aisle. He winces when Ally goes to reach for cocoa pebbles. “Quick question, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?” She blanches.
“Cocoa puffs? Seriously? Are you twelve? If you like chocolate cereal, at least get granola or Cheerios.” He grabs a box of chocolate Cheerios from the shelf. “Still too much sugar, but way less than what’s in cocoa puffs.”
“I don’t eat cereal every day.” She goes to drop the box in the cart, but Harry snatches it and puts it back. Ally rolls her eyes and moves forward to where the Pop Tarts are.
“Now you’re intentionally trying to piss me off.”
“What could have against a Pop Tart?”
“The. Sugar.”
“Oh, for the love of…I’ll buy myself.”
“I don’t want those in my house. You’re cutting this shit out cold turkey.”
“I’ll just get them and eat them when you’re not home.”
“Brat.” He scoffs. “You’ll eat the chocolate Cheerios and you’ll like it.”
“Can I at least use oat milk, or do you not believe in nondairy replacements?”
“Oat milk is delicious, I use it myself.”
“Good, then I’m getting the extra sugary chocolate milk kind.” She opens the refrigerator door once they come to it and pulls out a carton. “And when the holidays roll around, I’m gonna get the eggnog version and drink it right from the carton in front of you.”
All Harry does is glare at her as she takes what she wants. He almost has an aneurysm when they get to the ice cream section.
“Christ, you have a sweet tooth.”
“Do I look morbidly obese to you or something? It’s fine.”
“Just because you’re not outwardly obese doesn’t mean you’re healthy. Lots of skinny people eat like shit, and it catches up to them eventually.”
“I’m not exactly skinny.” She looks down at herself.
“You’re petite, and you have some meat on your bones, but I wouldn’t consider you plus sized.”
“If I were, would you hate me?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Are you sure? Because you’re coming off as extremely fat-phobic.”
“Plenty of fat people are healthier than skinny people. I don’t care if people are fat or skinny or whatever, I care that their organs are working properly, and not having to overwork to compensate for a bad diet. If you want dessert so badly, just have a glass of your chocolate milk, don’t buy three cartons of ice cream.” He takes them from her hands and puts them back in the freezer. “Special occasions only.”
“You have an extremely unhealthy relationship with food.”
“I don’t, actually. I’ve done a lot of research in the world of nutrition science over the years, so I can’t help but point things out and steer someone in a healthier direction. You can substitute-“
“Depriving people of things never works, it just leads to binge eating and hoarding food.”
“What did I tell you about interrupting me?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Have you always been this rigid? I don’t remember…Joey isn’t like this, how have you two been best friends all these years?”
“I’ve always been a serious person.”
“I didn’t say serious, I said rigid. You’re borderline psychotic.”
“Using that kind of hyperbole is wrong on so many levels. Not very kind to the psychosis community.” He smirks, then turns to go down the next aisle so he can stock up on frozen veggies. “Do you like raviolis?”
“You’re going to give me whiplash.” She groans.
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes, I love them. I love anything that involves pasta.”
“Good.” He opens the freezer door and grabs a large bag of raviolis.
“I can’t have ice cream, but I can have this?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because even though pasta has the bad kind of carbs, it does aid in keeping you fuller longer, and the protein from the cheese is nice, and I think it makes for an excellent side if I’m having a lighter piece of fish. We’ll have rice with the chicken.”
“So, you make time to cook, but you don’t make time for anything else?”
“I meal prep on my days off, that way I can grab things and go.”
“You’re very set in your ways. Is it because you’re old?”
Harry stops short and looks at her, horrified. She’s grinning ear to ear. God, how he’d love to just bend her over his knee and –
“Is there anything else you need, or can we go?” He asks her through gritted teeth.
“Nope, I’m good.”
He nods and finds a line that isn’t too long. He doesn’t let Ally help put things up on the belt, he doesn’t let her help load up the car, and he doesn’t let her help bring anything inside, not even the stuff from the craft store.
“I know how to carry things, you know…”
“I should hope so.” He grunts after bringing the last bag into the kitchen. “Doesn’t mean I want you to, though.”
“Is it like some old school chivalry thing?”
“I just don’t like it when a woman has to lift a finger to do anything when I’m literally right here.”
“Do you do that at the hospital too?”
“No, never.” He shakes his head.
“Ah, so you’re only sexist in your personal life.”
“I’m sexist for not wanting you to strain yourself in my presence?”
“Kind of, yeah. Unless you’d do the same thing if another man was standing in front of you.” Harry doesn’t answer, his jaw just clenches. “Right, that’s what I thought. I’m not a baby, you don’t have to do things for me. Do I…do you just not see me as a person? Do you still just see the little kid or teenager I used to be?”
“I don’t do things for people because I think they’re babies or too incompetent, I just…I don’t know, this is just how I am.” He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “Sorry, I haven’t lived with someone in a long time, haven’t gone shopping with someone…it’s like muscle memory, I guess…autopilot.”
“Is this how you were with your wife?” She asks softly. Harry stands up straight, swallowing thickly, then starts putting the groceries away. Ally helps him, at least he lets her do this. “Your wedding was beautiful; I remember it well. Think you were one of the first of Joey’s friends to get married.”
“I was young, not much older than you.” He explains without looking at her.
“I can’t remember her name…” she puckers her lips in thought.
“Julie.”
“Julie! Right! How long were you actually married for?”
“Three years, ten months, three weeks, and two days.”
“Wow, that’s specific.”
“You asked and I answered.”
“True.” She nods and jumps to sit on the island.
“Don’t do that.”
“Where else do you expect me to sit? You have no stools.” She cocks her head to the side. “Were you separated for a while before divorcing?”
“No.” He leans his palms on the granite, on either side of her thighs. A shiver runs up her spine because when has he ever been this close to her? “Ask what you really want to ask.”
Request: Lando falling for you and Daniel trying to convince you to go for it because he knows that you might reject him cause you’re a bit older than him .
thanks in advance 💕
THAT KIDDISH GRIN - LN4
listen up : age gap not specified! thanks for the request i loveeee this and i hope you do too!
words : 696
⋆｡‧˚⋆
“Daniel.” I almost laughed when he brought his friend up, the friend that I've been trying my hardest to keep out of my mind. Sipping my wine in the hotel bar, I sigh, “I’m too old for him.”
He shakes his head, pointing at me, “That is not the issue and you know it-”
“You’re right! He’s too young for me.” Daniel groans, leaning his head back in annoyance.
“He likes you, Y/n.” The brunette tries again, “And I know you like him-”
“None of that matters when age is involved.” He rolls his eyes, about to cut me off again, “And I know I'm not twenty years older or something crazy but age matters to me!”
“He’s mature!”
“He’s a playboy.”
Daniel quirks a brow, “So his reputation matters, not his age.”
I give him a look, he’s partially right. I do like Lando… Fuck I really do. How could I not? He’s hot, young, fit, and really fucking nice.
But I don’t trust him.
“I’m not dating a kid with party boy vibes. I grew out of that years ago.” I sip my wine again, shrugging.
“He wants to be with you, Y/n. Properly!”
“So why hasn’t he said that? Why is his best mate coming to ask me?”
“I told him to hold off for a second…” Daniel admits, looking shy about it. Just as I'm about to yell at him, Lando walks into the room.
“I hate you.” I mumble as Lando walks over. I down my wine and smile. I do like him, I really do. I don’t like the millions of younger girls thirsting after him.
Lando claps Daniel on the shoulder, thoroughly scaring the aussie. “Talking about me?” Lando jokes but Dan and I don’t laugh. Lando frowns, “Oh.”
“Only about how cute you are!” Daniel grabs Lando’s face, squishing his cheeks and making me laugh, “And your maturity.”
He raises a brow, his face still screwed up and voice muted, “I’m very mature.” He pushes away from Daniel, “Unlike this idiot.”
“Go pop off to your rabbit hole.” Daniel shoves him away, “See ya.”
“Bye.” Lando rolls his eyes, shoving a hand through his hair and smiling sweetly at me as he passes, “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”
God he’s cute.
I mumble a response, clearly blushing now and resorting to putting my head in my hands. “Wow you’re horrible at pretending you don’t want him!”
“Convince me not to. Dan- I'm serious. I don’t think it’ll be good for me. Or him!”
“I can’t do that.” He shrugs, “But I can tell you that it’s your decision and no one else’s. You know Lando won’t push you if you don’t say something… he knows you might reject him. I told him to wait because I don’t want you to do that. I wanted to tell you that he genuinely likes you. Not in a kiddy crush way, but in a real life falling for you way.” He grins, “You’re very charming, Y/n.”
I glance back at Lando who’s laughing and talking to some guy down the bar. “Not with him… I'm an idiot with him.”
“Well you’re lucky that he likes that.”
I’ve never had a guy like the stupid parts of me. I know it sounds ridiculous, I've had a good amount of boyfriends and all of them have been thoroughly annoying.
But Lando is kind, and complimentary, and has told me in every way that he wants to be with me… except verbally.
I don’t say anything to Daniel. I stand from my chair and walk straight towards the curly haired driver. He smiles when he sees me and it makes me want to run the other way. I stand my ground. “I’ll go out with you.”
I expect his face to completely change, frown even! But he just smiles wider, “Yeah?”
I cross my arms, “Yeah.”
“Well good.” He moves his hands into his pockets, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. 7?”
“Don’t be late, Norris.” He’s making me feel like a kid again, his cheesy grin making me blush.
Buck/Tommy | Rated E | 22,005 words
age gap (18-year-old Buck/27-year-old Tommy); pre-canon au
[read on ao3]
Summary:
Summer, 2009. After two years away, Tommy returns to Philadelphia, eager to resume the life he had to put on pause — but not everything, or everyone, is the same as he left them. Maddie is still his best friend, and Evan is still his best friend's younger brother, but Evan has done a lot of growing up in two years. Can Tommy say the same?
Preview:
The first time Tommy meets Maddie's little brother, it's pure coincidence.
"Are you Maddie's boyfriend?"
Tommy jumps. He swings his head around, finding a kid standing in the doorway to the dining room. He has a mop of blond hair on his head, a smudged bruisy birthmark crossing his eyebrow, and scraped-raw knees. Maddie's little brother, then.
"Uh, no, we're just friends."
The kid stares at him. It's a little unnerving.
"I'm Tommy," he says. The kid blinks.
"I'm Evan. So you're not going on a date?"
What is up with this kid? "No..." Tommy says, eyeing Evan. "We're going to a party and she needed to get a dress."
Evan seems to accept this, and continues staring.
Warnings: Age Gap, Dirty Smut, Cursing, Excessive use of the word fuck, Chubby Men, Talk about bodies, Body Difference, Bandit Mentioned, Lynz Mentioned, Slight Creepy Gerard, Sub!Gee, Dom Gee if you squint, Dacryphilia, Gerard is a sweetheart.
You are Gerard's Nanny. One day, when the two of you are alone, things spiral out of control and the two of you end up sleeping together.
Gerard was in desperate need of some help. And you were the complete opposite. All you did was lead him down a bad...bad path. He was looking for a nanny to help him with Bandit. She had just recently turned 10. Gerard had also recently divorced from Lindsey. The reasons were long and complicated. When it came down to it, the love had dissipated. He never thought it would go like this. He thought he would love her forever, but here he was. Even though him and Lyn-Z split Bandit, he still needs help with her, house keeping, and some kind of order in his own place. You were one of the first nannies to be interviewed. You came in with your button up short sleeve, some typical black office pants. There was nothing sexual about you and yet all Gerard could do was look at your body. He felt like such a pervert. You couldn't have been more than 30. And here he was overweight, gray hairs, scruffy beard. He was a plain old creep and he hated it. He hated you and how you made him feel. The interview went perfectly. You answered every question with more than ideal answers. Dammit! You were already the perfect candidate and no one else has been interviewed. It didn't help that Bandit loved you. You two had a quick bonding moment over loving Monster High Dolls. He didn't know if you were faking your enthusiasm to make his girl happy or that was just you. He still found it adorable.
After interviewing the rest of the candidates, Bandit and him agreed that no one compared to you. Bandit's reasoning was cleaner than his. He wanted to hire you for more selfish, lewd reasons. Like the way your ass would be a nice distraction after a long day of work. Or the way your shirt sometimes unbuttoned to perfectly showcase your chest. He was such a fucking pervert. He hated himself for thinking this way over someone 10 years younger. You had freshly graduated high-school when he had his daughter. What the fuck?
For the first two months he was good. He was polite with you. He purely professional. He never wanted anyone to know how attracted he was to you. He was fucking ashamed of himself. How did he become something he swore he would never be?
When Bandit was with Lindsey for the week, Gerard had asked you to clean up the backyard. He hired a pool boy to clean the pool while you were tugging at the weeds. Your job had become more than just a nanny. You were a cook, cleaner, assistant, and apparently now gardener. You didn't complain though. Gerard was paying triple the salary of all those jobs combined. And Gerard was a chill boss. He never bothered you. He always trusted you to do your thing. Mostly because he felt guilty from his filthy attraction. But you didn't know that. You just thought you were a good worker which you were. Gerard couldn't deny that you truly made his life easier all the while making him hard.
As you were tugging the weeds, some dirt on your arms and sweat on your face. Johnny, the pool boy, was staring at you. He stopped cleaning a long time ago. You and Johnny flirted from time to time. By flirting, you meant Johnny would compliment you and you would just giggle in response. You never stopped him. It was nice being complimented. Gerard hated it. He noticed the flirty banter a few times. It filled him with rage. You were his! Only for him to stare at. Gerard was getting jealous over a girl who only saw him as a coworker. How pathetic could he fucking be? Gerard watched from his office window as you two bantered. He could faintly hear the small conversation.
Johnny gave you a small smile, "I think you're the only person who manages to look good while covered in dirt".
You giggle, as usual, your eyes still focused on the weeds as you reply, "Thanks".
Johnny smiles at you, "Man, you're so cute."
You chuckle, "Have you finished cleaning the pool? Mr. Way is gonna beat your ass". Such graphic language Gerard has never heard from you before. It made him crack a smile knowing
you could switch like that.
Johnny laughs, "Yeah I finished, I'm just stalling because I want to talk to you. Plus, Gerard would never beat my ass. He's way to nice. You do realize you can call him Gerard, right? Not Mr. Way?" He says mocking your voice.
You actually laugh, "I try to be respectful!".
Johnny smiles at your genuine laughter, "Why is he making you pull weeds?".
You shrug and keep pulling the rest of the weeds, "I just do what he says."
Johnny nods and lets the awkward silence simmer. He doesn't really know where else to take the conversation.
Gerard is watching from his office window. He was a bit jealous over Johnny complimenting you but he couldn't blame him. You managed to make dirt look like couture. Within a blink, you stood up to throw out the weeds. Unfortunately, Johnny was slightly messy when cleaning the pool leaving the sides slightly wet. You didn't even notice. In a swift movement you fell into the pool. Johnny gasped and dropped the pool stick to help you but you already got yourself up. Gerard got downstairs at a rapid pace.
Gerard grabs a towel and scolds Johnny for making such a mess. He somehow scolds in the nicest way possible.
"Johnny, you can go home now. You've done enough."
Johnny now looks panicked. "Eh, sorry Mr. Way. I'll- uh go now."
Johnny packs up his things and leaves at an instant. You almost want to laugh at how scared he got. He even called him Mr. Way! But you're way too cold to laugh. You cover your hardening nipples from the cold. Gerard tries not to stare. He doesn't want you to be creeped out. He hands you a towel.
"Here", he says your name with such delicacy. As if it's a perverse prayer.
You can't deny it makes you throb. That has never happened before. What the fuck? When did you become such a pervert? Little do you know Gerard was saying the same thing to himself.
"Thank you", you try to say as normal as possible.
You wrap yourself with the towel. Your hair soaked, clothes slightly translucent, practically glued to your skin. Gerard wanted to fuck you so bad. He clears his throat.
"I'll start a warm bath for you."
He rushes upstairs hopefully hiding his boner before you can see it. You try to dry off in the backyard but go up the stairs when Gerard calls for you. You go into his bedroom that has a nice big fancy bath he warmed up for you. He stands beside it. He looks slightly nervous because he is. His boner still hasn't gone down but his jacket hides it slightly.
"Here, I started it for you. Take however long you want. You're free for the rest of the day."
He speaks at a quick pace and rushes out the bathroom. You couldn't even say thank you. You take off the soaked clothes that clang to your skin. You were wet, literally. You sunk into the warm bath and contemplated touching yourself. However, you felt too guilty touching yourself in your boss's tub. You just decided to soak in your sin. Hoping the warm water could kill the fire within you.
Gerard, however, was exploring the quarters you stay in. He laid in your bed. Smelled your sheets. Even felt a pair of dirty underwear in your laundry bin. He didn't have it in himself to smell it. The guilt was eating him alive. He wanted to rot in his sin. He wanted to be cleansed. But instead of holy water he'd prefer your bath water. That's why he's going to hell. He got up and went to his room. He honestly forgot you were in the bath. He was too consumed by the grief of his normal self. When he wasn't a creepy old man. He laid in his bed. The one he used have another body in. The one he cries in when he touches himself. He decided to do that same old routine again. Sniffling at how lonely he is, he puts his hand down his pants and palms himself. He whimpers and cries softly. He didn't even hear the bathroom door opening...
You left the bathroom in just a towel. You were looking for lotion but couldn't find it. You went to ask him and just saw him laying on his tummy, crying.
"Gerard? Are you okay?"
His heart drops and flips over to face you. He immediately takes his hand out of his pants. Your eyes widen. You didn't even realize he was touching himself. Why are his eyes watery? Gerard just spews out apologies.
"FUCK! Sorry- I- I- I'm so fucki- I'm sorry. I forgot you were even in the bath-" He doesn't even have time to breathe as he apologizes. The guilt is currently consuming him.
You are literally just focused on his penis. Fuck...You throbbed again. You couldn't help but stare.
"I'm sorry...I was just searching for lotion I uh..." You stop speaking as your mouth waters at the sight of him. Why is it so sexy to see him partially naked and crying.
He gulps as he realizes you're staring. He stuff his penis in his boxers.
"I'm sorry fucking please don't quit I need you."
His voice shakes as he cries again. You were so turned on. You were soaked again. You drop your towel. It was a bold move you immediately regretted. What if you read the signs wrong? What if you were that big of a slut? Gerard stops speaking and stares at you. You stutter.
"We-We're you touching yourself to me?"
You weren't sure yourself. Gerard nodded as he stared at your tits.
"I'm sorry I'm fucking disgusting...I was...You're just so beautiful and the only women I've been around since my wife left me and uh..."
You shake your head.
"Don't apologize. I'm attracted to you. I want this. Only if uh...you don't look at me differently. I kinda need this job...I can't handle losing it." You sit on the bed, next to him.
He stares at you and nods.
"You mean a lot to me...truly. You make everything in my life easier and make me feel things I haven't felt in years. Even when I was married it was fucking dead near the end. I've been feeling so guilty for being attracted to you. I've felt so disgusting. I'm still so embarrassed but...you truly feel the same way?"
You nod and caress his bearded cheek. That both made you feel things. You admire his tears.
"I do...I felt the same. So unprofessional for feeling like this...but I think we've gone too far."
Gerard nods and sighs.
"Fuck..." He sniffles "I uh...You wanna do this?"
You nod and give him a soft kiss. Gerard moans softly and caress your smooth, slightly damp back. You and him exchange soft pecks. You both are scared to get too intimate. You don't want to ruin the moment. You don't want to bask in each other's sin...yet. Gerard lays down with a sigh, pulling away from the kiss. You look at him.
"Can I take off your clothes too?"
He nods and helps you by taking off his shirt. He is a 42 year old man. He doesn't have a six pack, or a toned torso. He's soft. His tummy is big and round but not as bulging as a beer belly. His chest has some hair on it. His arms big and muscular, contrasting his flabby belly. You loved the sight of him. Gerard looks away embarrassed by the way he looks. He isn't in his prime anymore. At least, he doesn't think so. You give him a smile.
"You look really good."
He chuckles dryly, "You don't have to lie to make me feel better". You frown at his insistence. "Hey, for the record you look great." He smiles since he can hear your sincerity. "Well, I'm nothing compared to you that's for sure. He scans over your younger, plump, full of life body. He caresses your back and you smile with flushed cheeks. "Thanks..." You focus on his body again. You take unbutton his pants and slide them down. His legs were big and toned. He had crazy calves but his thighs were thick and more soft. You liked how his body inharmoniously worked together. Now the only thing left to take off are his boxers. His bulge is quite literally bulging out of his boxers. You already saw a glimpse of his penis before. It made you fucking salivate. You look at him for permission.
"Can I-" He cuts you off "Yes! Uh- yeah you can...sorry." You give him a nod and nervously smile. You pull down his boxers and moan at the sight. His dick was big. To you at least. Probably 6 inches maybe 7. But the best part was it was so thick. You were such a whore for girth. His tip was the same blush pink of a bunny's tongue. His precum just dripping down his shaft. It was so disgusting. So perverse. So cute. So hot. Gerard is blushing now that both of you are naked. He tries to be sexy.
"You like it?" He tried to say in a lower, gruff voice but it doesn't come out right. Ah shit. He fucked it up. You didn't even hear what he said. You were staring at his penis.
"Can I touch it?" You say in a quiver. He nods without any hesitance. "Please" He whimpers.
You touch his penis. You grope his balls. Lick his tip. Rub his shaft. Even run your fingers through his pubes. He groans and whines. You were just exploring what was there. He cries from being touched for first time in so long. Why did his tears make you so wet? You had so many questions about yourself. You pull away. He sniffles, "Why did you stop?". You look at him, "Because I want you to nut inside me...". You were embarrassed by what you said. That was nowhere near sexy. Just weird. Gerard didn't think it was weird at all. He almost came from that. "Oh god...please...yeah let's do that." You gulp. He's already laying down. You take it as a sigh to get on top. You lube up his penis with your saliva. He twitches and whines again. "F-fuck..." You smile at his cries. You sit on his length. Settling down trying to get used to it. He cries again. "Fuck, baby. I haven't...huh...I haven't done this in so long. I forgot how good it feels." You moan from his crying. "You're so big...I don't know if I can do it." You breathe heavy as if this is some hard labor. Emphasis on the hard.
He cries at the thought of you stopping. He panics, "Please Please, don't stop, it feels too good for you to stop." His voice breaks as he speaks again. "Please, you can go as slow as you want but don't get off me. I'm begging you." You clench around his girth. He moans and you haven't even moved. You speak again with a whiny voice "I just need some time." He nods with no hesitation. He willingly to do anything for you right now. You sit on him. He looks at you with his teary eyes. They glimmer like the diamonds on his ex-wife's wedding band. Forever reminding you what you are doing. Who you are doing. And the consequences that come with that. You could lose everything all for some dick. But when looking into his crystal eyes, it all seemed worth it.
You completely forgot about the pain from earlier and start to rock your hips backs and forth. Ugh fuck back and forth again. Those crystal eyes quickly shut and let out diamond tears. His moans are broken and cracky. That makes you throb more, just sending Gerard over the fucking edge. His face was flushed with pink around his eyes, lips, and nose. It made you so fucking horny. He grips onto your hips and starts to bounce you up and down. You weren't in control anymore. You stopped moaning and started to whine. He was being rough now. Too rough but you liked it. You gripped onto his chest for support. Your boobs we're bouncing right in his face. It hurt but Gerard was too hypnotized by your body, too blinded by his tears to notice. You whimper from roughness of being pushed up and down on his big fucking cock. You let out a cry went his pushes you in so deep. Gerard is a moaning mess. His eyes are still wet but full of darkness. Full of need. He needs you now. You cry again.
"Gerard it hurts!"
He moans and cries with you. He's like an animal now. You've never seen him like this.
"I'm sorry baby...I'm so fucking sorry...Just a bit more."
You scream as he bounces you again. This time even faster. Tears run down both your eyes and legs. He mumbles nonsense, "fuck...sorry...ugh...s-so-SORRY...oh fuck...shit". He sobs from the sheer amount of pleasure. Meanwhile, you're just screaming from the aggressiveness of it all. It hurts so good. "Just a little longer...Ngh...I'm gonna fuc-fuck....c...UGH! i'm gonna cum." He whimpers again. It was such a stark contrast. His submissive crying face versus his calloused hands gripping your hips as he pushes you up and down. You're so fucking horny you keep throbbing around him. He let's out a shaky exhale of air as he throws his head back. His hands get weak and shake as he gets closer to that tipping point. You don't need his support anymore. For some reason, his tears fueled you. You got a rush of energy and started to bounce yourself on him even faster. His belly moves like water from your pace. You were in control now. He cries even harder and moans through loud sobs.
You feel his warm fluid shoot up in you. It feels so fucking good you just want to salivate. You want to shoot this feelings in your veins. Experience it forever and ever. You moan and rock your hips, your orgasm still lingering. Gerard is panting, collapsed on the bed. He opens his slicked eyes, his face and eyes still red and swollen. The two of you make eye contact as you keep moving on his limp body. The eye contact sends a rushing feeling up your body. You whimper and rock your hips faster. Gerard hisses, now ultra sensitive after his orgasm. For some reason his discomfort and tears turn you on. "I'm gonna cum soon baby. Just take this for me." You whisper in his ear. Gerard whimpers and nods trusting you as if you were scripture. You moan from his obedience and move faster until the only language you can speak is pleasure. The room is filled with moans, cries, skin slapping, and fluids mixing. "Ngh, I-", you don't need to say anymore words as you shake and moan. Your release mixes with his prior one. The room is a hot, sticky, disgusting mess. You loved it. You pass out on top of him. Your tits sticking to his man tiddies. No complaints though. You loved every part of his body. Including his chub. Especially his chub. Lying on top of him is so comfortable. More soft than you're used to. You loved every part of it.
He breathes raggedly. He wraps his big arms around you and holds onto you. You cuddle into his neck. You pepper some kisses onto his necks causing him to exhale calmly.
"What do we do?", you couldn't help but ask. What does this mean to him? For you? For your job? His career? His life?
Gerard looks at you and answers with complete honesty, "I don't know". You both didn't know. You both didn't if this was just pure lust. If there was any feelings involved with this. You both didn't even know what this was. But you didn't need to know the answers all right now. The two of you are still high off the sex.
"Wanna stay like this?", you say with a soft smile.
Gerard give a small nod and shy smile as he brings you impossibly close. The two of you still connected. You seal this moment with a kiss. The sin, lust, and true grime of this moment is glued between both of your lips. You'd rather bask in hell than take back what you did.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・༶✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・༶
Did yall like? Teehee! I know I promised a part two to Get Back In Your Arms and a 2015 Gee Fic BUT I also promised a smutty Gee oneshot so here it is. I was inspired by @afraidoflittleauldme 's 2019 Gee Fic and promised them a 2019 fic in return. I am just obsessed with him. Need him biblically. I was gonna make this a cheating story but I wasn't too sure. Tell me if y'all would be interested in a fic about being his desperate mistress. ANYWAYS! Please comment. Please leave notes. Let me know if y'all like it. As always, my requests are open PLEASEEE GIVE ME SOME! All love, Romantics ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆!
