𝓛𝓮𝓵𝓪 🌙

“I need a favor.”

Jack was used to you asking him for help, had been for the two years since you moved into the apartment directly across from his.

He didn’t mind offering you a lending hand when he saw you struggling to carry your boxes from your small run down car, it wasn’t an inconvenience to collect your mail if you ever had to leave town for a few days, and he really couldn’t complain about having to remind you to get your laundry from the unit down below because it held him accountable too.

It was such a common occurrence, you asking him for a favor, that he wasn’t too surprised to find you at his door. He only gave a soft sigh as you pushed past him to enter his apartment, offering you a lot more patience than he did the newbies at the hospital.

You were always sweet, maybe a little bossy at times, but it gave him some amusement in his otherwise strict routine.

Plus it was admittedly nice to feel needed.

You came to him when your apartment had a leak or your air conditioning went out, knocked on his door whenever it was raining and you’d forgotten an umbrella after locking yourself out, and you even sometimes popped over just to get his opinion on what you should wear out on a random night.

Everybody was always telling Jack he needed a hobby that didn’t involve putting his life on the line, so he rarely told you no and tried his best to brush off Robby whenever he asked what was keeping him so busy lately.

It would be hard enough to explain the dynamic he had with his much younger neighbor but even more so considering you were now standing in the middle of his apartment with a frustrated look on your face, hands on your hips as you tapped your bunny slipper covered foot.

“What is it now?” His voice was gruff and disinterested but you knew well enough that he would do whatever you asked and he was well aware of that too. Still, it helped him just a little to pretend to contemplate it for a second or two first.

“I need you to have sex with me.”

You said it like it was as simple as asking him to come over and check your water pressure, falling out of your mouth casually and landing heavily in the quiet room.

There was no need to pretend this time as he fell into a bewildered silence, raising an eyebrow in your direction and letting his eyes track you as you dramatically sighed and went to flop down on his couch. You’d demanded about a year ago that he got some pillows for it, along with a few other interior design suggestions.

He’d picked up four after his shift that night.

“Please say something.” You were turned around on the couch so you could face him over the back of it, arms crossed as you rested your chin ontop of them.

“I have nothing to say to that.” He shook his head immediately, that stern expression he used on an unruly patient or Robby when he got a little too pushy.

This just made you sigh again, loud and exaggerated as you turned back around to fully lay flat on his couch.

“Why are you even asking me that?” He didn’t want to pry because he knew you well enough by now to know you’d just be encouraged by that but his curiosity got the best of him, circling around to sit across from you on one of the living room chairs.

You didn’t sit up but you turned your head to the side to look at him, a slight frown on your face that he didn’t think was particularly genuine. Your personality was always something Jack admired, not getting a lot of time in his own life to be so bold with his emotions and carefree in the way he spoke and behaved.

He was serious and guarded where you were a walking billboard for spontaneity, coming to him crying about random problems after only half a week of living in the building.

It was mostly endearing but there was the more critical part of him that wondered how lonely you must be to be making friends and finding comfort with some random guy across the hallway, a much older one at that.

Jack knew he had a bit of a hero complex but it typically manifested in a more extreme way, quite literally jumping into battle to save lives or operating on them in their lowest moments. This dynamic with you was a new form of care taking and there’d been a handful of times he’d doubted his own motives.

“Because I have a date next week and I am a complete lost cause when it comes to all things intimacy.” You still had a theatrical flare to your voice, not facing him anymore and instead rambling straight up to his ceiling with your hands gesturing wildly.

He tensed up for two reasons now, one being the mention of a date and the other was your implication you didn’t have any experience.

“But you’ve had sex before.” It came out slowly and half like a question, half like an assumption.

There wasn’t any real reason for him to think that other than his own social expectations. You were gorgeous, one of the prettiest women he’d seen in a very long time, and had a naturally magnetic energy to you that even he couldn’t resist most of the time, platonically but also selfishly deep down, a little more than that.

He’d seen you go on a handful of dates in the last year or two, all guys your age that didn’t seem to know how to pick up a check let alone please you properly.

That’s where Jack’s problem stemmed from.

There had been almost no ulterior motive the first year he had known you, genuinely trying to be helpful and to be a good neighbor. He would get upset when his coworkers would call him anti social or make digs at how unfriendly he was because he hadn’t always been like that and he figured helping out the girl next door was a good first step to getting that part of himself back.

You’d told him after a few months that you had no family on this side of the country, completely starting fresh at a new company you’d applied to on a whim.

It was completely innocent.

Yes, you were undoubtedly beautiful in a way that made his head spin for a second when he first saw you. You had been standing near your car and fighting with a box, both by tugging at it and saying less than kind words in its direction like it could understand you.

Jack had hesitated for a handful of seconds before making his way over and offering to help, feeling this weird pull in his chest when you blinked up at him in surprise and eagerly thanked him.

Once you were in his life, you never left. And he made space for you effortlessly because, quite frankly, he had plenty of it to offer up.

About seven months ago was the first time he had ever seen you with a guy.

He’d been coming home from a long and rare day shift (covering for Robby so he could attend Jake’s graduation), dragging his leg behind him and praying nobody stopped him on the way to his apartment so he could crawl into bed for a few short hours before he had to do it all over again for his own shift.

The only distraction he would have allowed was you but you were clearly busy, standing in the hallway as he got off the elevator and touching the rather small bicep of a guy your age.

Jack hesitated, considered getting right back on the elevator before it could close on him, and then slowly walked to his door.

He had hoped you wouldn’t acknowledge him because his throat was already weirdly tight as he eyed you and the way you stared up at the man (boy, if Jack had to really label it) with that soft and curious expression you always had.

“Jack.” Your voice was full of excitement and he faltered, his key left in his doors lock as he turned to give you an attempt at a polite smile. “Covering somebody again?”

If this had been any other day then Jack would have invited you into his apartment to talk instead of lingering in the hallway. He would have ignored his exhaustion to pair his black coffee with the hot chocolate flavor you liked that he kept in his bottom drawer, complained to you about being tired and listened to you scold him for working too much when he didn’t need to.

But you were in a pretty dress that was clearly on its way to dinner and your date was giving Jack that possessive stare that guys fresh out of college thought was intimidating.

So instead he simply nodded his head and continued to unlock his door.

“This is Asher.” You continued abruptly as he turned his door handled, leaving it cracked as he stopped to look at you again.

He gave you a once over to make sure everything was okay, wondering why you were still insisting on talking to him when you were so clearly meant to be going somewhere else. You didn’t look too uncomfortable but you were watching him back just as intensely so he mentally stored the name and face of the guy anyways, just in case something happened.

“Ashton.” Your date finally spoke and his voice was annoyed and laced with immature bitterness, although slightly valid considering you had forgotten his name.

Your eyes widened, still boring into Jacks, and he smiled a little before giving you a small wave and heading inside.

Jack realized quickly after that encounter that his intentions were a lot less innocent than he had initially thought they were. He’d closed his door before immediately pressing his back against it, listening to the sound of your small heels leaving the hallway as you apologized to your date with a clenched jaw and a pain in his stomach.

The next few dates after that just confirmed what he had already realized from the first one.

He was attracted to you.

Maybe even liked you.

You talked to Jack about almost everything going on in your life, even things he definitely would not have cared about if it came from anybody else, but you never once brought up the dates. At first he had worried you had somehow noticed his weird demeanor that day in the hallway but Jack wasn’t very expressive in general so he figured you must keep that part of your life private for other reasons.

The attraction part was easy to accept mostly, he was only a man and you were clearly gorgeous. Although the age gap was something Jack couldn’t get himself to look past.

You were barely in your early twenties, over half his age younger and overly obviously so. You radiated youth, from your appearance and the way you spoke down to your hobbies and interests.

You were clearly a very young girl and he had felt like a pervert from the moment he saw you outside of that car for the way his body warmed. Jack hadn’t felt much attraction to anybody at all since his wife died, at first out of a lingering loyalty to her that barely faded and then just due to his busyness and his own mental blocks.

That was not a problem when it came to you and he had to give a genuine effort when he was around you to act normal.

You’d come over in tiny sleep shorts or a tight tank top that showed your hardened nipples through the thin fabric, join him for morning yoga in downright sinful leggings and he even was attracted to the stupid bunny slippers you wore.

But you were a young girl and he was a disciplined old man so he barely looked twice in your direction when you were bending over to get mail and he never once touched you, setting boundaries for himself and keeping them.

Which was why it was so hard for him when you slowly shook your head to his question about having sex before.

“What about those guys?” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you and you sighed like you were embarrassed, a rare emotion to see from you.

“We barely kissed.” You shrugged and finally sat up from your dramatic position on the couch. “Please Jack, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” He said immediately, slightly offended you were seemingly only asking him because you had no other options.

You looked completely dejected now but Jack knew there was no way he could possibly accept this request, for too many reasons but especially because of his own moral code. He also didn’t want to ruin what you’d had going on, enjoying your company on his hard nights and finding himself finally letting somebody in after so many years alone.

“Okay so no sex.” You say softly and you stand up when he does, following him as he walks into the kitchen and leaning against the counter to watch him set the coffee machine settings. “But can’t you show me little things.”

He sends you a sharp look that you return with a gentle pleading smile, bouncing in place a little like you think your cuteness is the answer to everything.

And it just might be because Jack sighs softly and turns his full attention back to you.

“Like what?” He knows him asking for specifics will give you hope and he can see it immediately on your face, brightening and taking a step closer to him that makes him tense.

“Maybe just telling me what guys like?” You suggest softly and the words coming from your mouth make him almost groan, keeping his face flat and emotionless as you speak. “And some kissing lessons.”

“You know how to kiss.” He shook his head at you and went to turn back to his coffee but your hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him, successfully keeping his attention on you. He realized that it might be the first time you’d ever actually touched him, skin against skin. “I’ve seen it.”

His posture tightens as he reminds himself of that fact, easily recalling the vivid memory of leaving his apartment to head to work and finding you coming home from a date and making out with a guy against your door.

You hadn’t noticed him at first but he had slammed his door harder than normal, shamefully intentional.

There’d been a pang of guilt when you jumped in surprise and separated from the guy who looked the douchiest out of all of them but it was hard to feel it when you have him a slightly grateful look on his way to the elevator.

You were blinking at him now, almost like you were realizing something, and he looked away in favor of glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Not a kiss that feels good.” Your voice was more serious now, sounding genuinely disheartened by the conversation and the slow unveiling of your inexperience.

He sighed again, just trying to get rid of the tightness in his chest, before shaking his head firmly and fully turning away from you to fill up his coffee mug.

“I’m not doing it.”

—

Jack thought about your offer for the next two weeks. Obsessively.

He waited to hear you bringing somebody else over, someone who had jumped on the golden opportunity to touch you for the first time when he hesitated. You didn’t seem to go on any dates but he supposed you wouldn’t have told him anyways.

The thought of you experiencing sex with some asshole you met off a dating app, nervous and unsure on what to do without guidance, was eating away at him.

Jack was a fixer, he liked to help you, and he had already accepted the fact that he was extremely attracted to you. It wasn’t like he didn’t recognize the jealously in his stomach everytime he saw you with somebody else, a type of anger he hadn’t felt since he was preparing to go into a real life war.

Subdued by age and a calmer reality now but it was still fresh hot anger that he couldn’t shake no matter how much he tried.

You came to him with this problem, not just for pointers and tips but you had actually asked him to be the one to take your virginity.

Virginity.

Jack couldn’t get the concept out of his head and while he hadn’t necessarily considered himself somebody who would care about that type of thing, especially not as he entered his fifties, it did bring a wave of heat over him whenever he thought about it.

You’d never been touched before outside of a few unsatisfactory make out sessions. You, the pretty girl with downright sinful choices of pajamas that consumed his day to day life so easily after he spent such a long time alone.

He thought about it endlessly until it led to him knocking on your door, a rare switch of the usual dynamic that left him feeling a little awkward before you answered.

The sensation went away when you looked up at him, eyes a little wide with confusion as you silently stepped back to let him inside. It was rare for you to be so quiet but maybe you could tell what he was thinking by the look on his face, maybe you were thinking about the same exact thing.

“I’ll help you.” His voice was gruff and flat, waiting until your door closed behind him before he spoke. Your face immediately lit up but he silenced anything you were going to say with a raised hand, your parted lips closing as you waited for him to finish. “But I’m not sleeping with you.”

You pouted a little at the condition but stepped forward after a few seconds, far too close to him for his sanity but he figured you’d be getting a lot closer soon so he forced his breathing to stay level.

Jack used to consider himself quite smooth, still a natural flirt when he joked around with older patients or teased Robby.

But he was completely thrown off of any existing game when it came to you. He didn’t even know he could still feel this way about somebody, the yearning and lustful feeling having been dormant for a long time before you moved in.

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” Your voice was soft now and he’d never heard you like that, maybe a bit of a whine when you impatiently asked him to help you with something, but never so pleading.

You’d shifted even closer as you spoke and he couldn’t help himself now that he practically had permission, his large and rough hand sliding over your waist to rest on the small of your back.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling and he was suddenly aware of how much fun this was going to be if you were that sensitive.

“Not tonight okay?” He replied and his low tone made your eyes soften, nodding eagerly and hesitantly letting your hands land on his chest in balled up fist. “We can talk about it more later and work out some conditions.”

“You’re giving me rules?” You’d collected yourself enough to finally give him some of that familiar attitude, smiling slightly as you stared up at him. He rolled his eyes but let his hand tighten against your back, moving you forward and just trying to test your reaction to the touch.

You lost your smile immediately, shuffling closer until you were pressed against him as your eyes darted all around his face with surprise. It was clear you didn’t expect him to accept at all let alone this easily, despite his two weeks of contemplation, he wasn’t at all hesitate now.

“You need them.” He retorted and his free hand brushed some of your hair behind your ear, the first time you were ever really touching each other being this intimate was sending another wave of affection through him.

A few years ago, Jack couldn’t even get himself to look at another woman, let alone hold one so gently. Even with the slightly out of the ordinary circumstances, he cared for you and you trusted him and that was all that really mattered in his eyes.

“You’re mean.” You’re whispering it and his head tilts at the sound it, overly fond and curious how you can affect him so much just by changing the tone of your voice. “Kiss me atleast.”

It comes out a demand and his eyebrows naturally furrow at the sound of it, knowing immediately that will have to be one of the rules he gives you when you talk them over.

Manners.

He doesn’t respond for a second but you seem to understand before he even needs to scold you, lips parting in realization before they form a small pout and you unclench your fist so your palm is flat on his chest now instead.

“Please give me a kiss Jack.” You sound sweeter now and he would think it was an act, making fun of him for his sudden silent sternness, if it wasn’t for the genuinely pleading look on your face.

The knowledge that you listen so easily, even when he doesn’t actually say it, overrides his senses so much that he actually does bend down to kiss you.

It’s soft at first which you don’t seem to understand, immediately trying to eagerly make out with him like that’s all you really know. He moves one of his hands from your side to hold under your jaw, applying a little bit of pressure near your throat to indicate he wants you to slow down.

You melt against him at the touch but do as he silently communicates and relax a little bit, still moving your mouth a bit sloppily against his but learning to adapt to his slow and easy pace.

Eventually you get the rhythm down perfectly, lips moving together without anything extra added. You asked Jack to teach you so he was going to do exactly that, starting from the basics.

Your face was completely dazed when he pulled back, instinctively shifting forward to try and kiss him again and making a small disappointment noise when his hold near your throat tightened in warning.

“You asked for a kiss.” He said in a low voice, still close to your face so he could perfectly see the way your widened eyes shifted around his features.

He was a bit mesmerized by the way you looked now, so unlike yourself on any other day. It both made his guilt over being perverse grow and also solidified that he didn’t care how wrong it was as long as you kept looking at him like that.

“Get some sleep.” He waited a few seconds before taking the necessary steps away from you, taking a sharp breath as he turned and left your apartment.

His own door had barely closed behind him before there was insistent knocks on it, his head immediately hanging since he knew exactly who it was.

Your eyebrows were furrowed when he pulled the handle to reveal you in the hallway, standing stiffly and glaring up at him but not making any move to come inside. You shifted in place and let out a huff of annoyance as you seemed to search for the right words to convey what you wanted.

“Can you kiss me one more time?” You eventually settled on the blunt question, shifting closer so you were both halfway in his doorway.

While he had a foot inside his apartment still, you had one in the hallway. It left you standing too close for his sanity, feeling it slip almost entirely again when your small hand landed on his forearm and rubbed softly.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, sensing your frustration but not knowing where it was stemming from.

He cupped your face with one of his hands, letting the other rest back on your side. You stared up at him as he took a few slow steps forward, backing you up with each one until your back hit the doorframe and took a soft near gasp from your lips.

“Nothing I just…” You trail off as you pout, scanning over his face and then down his chest until you can’t bend your head anymore to look. “I want one more. Please.”

You added it as an afterthought but it was enough for him, pressing his mouth back against yours.

This time, apparently a very quick learner, you were able to meet his pace right away and your mouths moved softly together. Your arms went around his neck so you could fully cling to him as you kissed deeply, heads tilting and quiet pleased noises rumbling in your throat.

You only got louder when his tongue pressed lightly into your mouth, mostly just to test your reaction but unable to stop himself when you were eagerly matching the actions.

It was sloppy and a little too wet, sounds of your tongues tangling together filling the silent hallway and sending a sharp heat down to his gut. He liked how clumsy you were, growing addicted to the way you seemed to have no idea what you were doing but too desperate to stop yourself and ask him for his help.

Jack knew he liked feeling needed but this was a whole different beast, one that came paired with some light shame.

You weren’t innocent and you knew exactly what you needed to about sex but your body was inexperienced and it was getting clearer by the second, your little gasp when he kissed you deeper and the way you tightened your hold on him everytime he went to pull back and attempt to slow down.

You’re red in the face by the time he manages to get you to stop eagerly kissing him, still instinctively shifting closer when he moves back. He gives you a lighthearted sigh, occupied by the softest smile he can manage so he doesn’t actually hurt your feelings when he presses you back against the doorway with the hand that’s still on your hip.

“Time for bed.” He tries to keep his tone light but it comes out more authoritative than he had meant for it to, most likely driven by the way you automatically started to frown as soon as he held you away from him. “We can talk tomorrow.”

You clearly weren’t happy about that but you surprisingly gave him a soft nod, shifting your body until you were out of his entrance and closer to your own.

He watched you and your dazed face, slightly wobbly on your feet, as you disappeared behind your apartment door with a small wave.

-

Jack had started off his day rough the following morning, barely able to sleep after what had happened.

It was a completely split mixture of wanting you so bad it was driving him to literal insanity and feeling disgustingly guilty for even looking in your direction.

He almost considered calling Robby about it but he really didn’t need to hear the lecture that would undoubtedly come his way about the situation. Plus he figured that whatever Robby knew, Dana knew, and if Dana knew then it was only a matter of time before the entire emergency department was gossiping about Jack Abbot and his young neighbor.

The dilemma was so strong that he had almost completely forgotten about the fact he had told you that you’d talk today, although almost intentional.

He was halfway avoiding having to actually sit down and make this arrangement a reality, still having a hard time believing what had happened last night was even real.

He had just started to get changed for work when the knocking on his door started and he knew it was you immediately, standing still and hanging his head for a few seconds like he figured he could just wait you out.

It didn’t take long for his senses to kick back in and he was pulling on a plain black shirt before making his way over to the door, raising his eyebrows at you when he saw how irritated you looked.

You brushed past him immediately and he lingered with his hand on the door knob for a moment before closing it and preparing himself to face whatever wrath you were about to send his direction.

“You didn’t come over.” You immediately accused, finger pointing in his direction as you stood in the middle of his living room with an angry expression. “You didn’t even text me.”

He was already walking closer to you as you spoke and your defenses naturally crumbled at the proximity, especially when his hands were sliding over your ribs to both hold you steady and let him feel your breathing as subtly as possible.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then ignore me.” You continue on but your tone is a lot softer now that he’s touching you, already getting that dazed edge to it he had heard last night.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you.” He shakes his head and frees a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, your features have completely softened now at the movement.

Jack wonders for the first time if you might have feelings for him beyond trust and attraction.

For some reason, he hadn’t really considered the possibility before. You were practically his polar opposite and he had nothing in common with any of the boys you went on dates with.

But now, with you blinking up at him like you were hanging on to his every word, he let himself think it might just be likely.

“I figured you changed your mind.” Your words are a little slurred from the insistent pout you have on your face and he sighs again, gently leading you over to sit on his couch.

Your knees brush together as you scoot closer to him the second he’s settled on top of the cushion, your hand wrapping around three of his fingers and squeezing lightly as you wait for him to respond to your fear of being rejected.

“I didn’t but I want to make sure you understand what you’re asking.” His voice is low and nearing stern, the same tone he uses on the new med students who seem a little more cocky than they are willing to learn. He knows that’s not the case with you, knows you’re desperate for any expertise he can offer you, but he still wants you to pay attention and properly understand him. “There’s other ways for you to do this.”

“What, like other guys?” Your eyebrows furrow like the thought confuses you.

His stomach tightens immediately, sick at the thought of it, but he stiffly nods his head.

You’re shifting even closer immediately and he lets out a breath when you’re leaning over his knee nearly, closer to his face than before and scanning over it again.

“I don’t want another guy Jack. I just want it to be you.” You’re whispering now and he can’t stop himself from pressing a light kiss to your mouth, brief but necessary when his brain processes the lack of distance between you. That makes you smile finally and he suddenly feels very stupid for ever questioning you when you’re making a request like this.

“Tell me why.” He mumbles, easily sliding his hands around your middle so he can tug you over more and into his lap. You kiss him again once you’re settled in his lap, still quick like you’re both using it as punctuation during your conversation. “Why me?”

He wants to hear you give a legitimate reason, to undo the hesitance you gave him when you said it was only because you didn’t have anybody else to ask. That’d been weighing on him more than anything else, the thought that you had just settled for your older lonely neighbor who was clearly willing to help you with anything in spite of himself.

Your next kiss was much longer, deeper as you fully sink down in his lap and move your mouth against his desperately. He’d accept that alone as an answer, big palms rubbing over your back and sides so he can keep pulling you impossibly closer.

Your nose is rubbing against his when you pull back, the sounds of your breathing being heavier now making his head spin with the necessary impulsivity to keep making terrible decisions with you.

“You’d make me feel good.” The answer you’d landed on was much more devastating than he was prepared for, his eyes darkening at how confident you sounded in that fact. “I know you would.”

His hands tightened around your soft skin for a second, needing to take a deep breath to ground himself.

It takes a second for him to reply, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling sharply. You smell as sweet as you always do but it’s intoxicating to have it this close after so long, skin soft under his lips as he kisses you softly.

Your breathing gets shaky, arms looping around his neck so you’re practically hugging him. You’re warm on top of him and making the sweetest noises when he moves along your jaw, shifting in his lap to try and get his attention back on your conversation.

“You’ll do it right?” You ask softly, running your hand through his hair and tugging just enough to make him finally look back at your face. His eyes are dark and unfocused as he stares at your pretty features. “Jack?”

“Yeah honey.” He says back after another long silence, voice deeper than he’d ever heard it as he leans in to kiss you again.

You kiss for a long time, wiggling around in his lap when your tongues tangle together and you get to taste him properly again. It’s addicting for both of you, both of your hands running all over the other’s body like you’re trying to learn every part of it you can reach.

Eventually you’re fully rocking against him from your neediness and it takes a second for him to process it, snapped back to focus when he hears the way your whines are getting higher pitched. A near growl leaves his throat as he grabs your hips firmly, thumbs pressing into the bone so he can stop you from moving on top of him like that.

“Jackie.” You whine desperately, kissing him again and successfully distracting him long enough that you can start humping again.

“Stop baby I have work soon.” He scolds in between the sloppy kisses, lips and chin slightly wet from how uncoordinated you still are.

You make another soft noise and he’s confused for half a second before he realizes it’s because of the pet name, smiling softly from his fondness for you as you hide down in his neck for a second.

“You’re hard now, I can feel it.” You’re whispering right against his skin and a shiver runs over him at the lewd words falling from such a pretty mouth, high pitched and almost innocent voice making the sentence sound so much dirtier than it needed to be.

At first Jack doesn’t think you’re right, knowing himself and his body enough to expect he’s not stirring down there even if he wants you so bad it makes him feel insane.

He’s had issues with it for years now, a deadly combination of his age, his traumas, and the carousel of medications he has to be on for a variety of things he wouldn’t disclose to you out of his own pride. That was the reason Jack had stopped trying to hook up with people years ago, giving up on porn entirely when he’d have to spend an hour trying to get hard before he could even attempt to actually get himself off.

It was in the back of his mind when you’d asked him to help you with this but he figured this was about your pleasure, he wouldn’t need to be hard to get you off especially if he stuck to his guns about not actually having sex with you.

He was sucking in a deep breath to explain this to you in less detail, make sure you understood that he wasn’t hard but it had nothing to do with you or his attraction to you, when you gave a particularly deep and slow roll of your hips.

And the effect was completely undeniable.

A shudder ran over him, eyes dropping to his lap that you were still rocking on top of. Your tiny little shorts were so clearly pressing against the tent in his scrub pants, catching on it whenever you lost the energy to move properly as you let out another needy whine and hid back in his neck.

You were completely unaware of his current mental situation, baffled at how easily you’d gotten him to this state from just some sloppy kissing.

You must’ve thought he was ignoring you because you picked up your head to glare at him, a pout on your swollen lips.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He sighed and kissed you gently, rubbing your sides up to your ribs and coming back down right when he felt the swell of your breast against his fingertips. “I really have to go.”

“Let me suck you off.” You requested easily and his breath caught, nearly choking at how simple you made it sound. “I wanna learn and you’re so hard right now Jackie. Please let me do it.”

“That’s not the point of this.” He shook his head immediately and moved you by your hips so you were sat next to him and no longer settled in his lap, clearly upsetting you as you scrambled up on your knees and gripped his bicep so he couldn’t get off the couch yet.

“The point is to teach me things about sex and I’ll need to know this.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at why he’s rejecting you.

He finds it a little amusing that you’re so used to him accepting your requests for things that you’re genuinely lost when he doesn’t immediately fold for you. It’s a bratty habit he should have corrected months ago but he can’t find himself caring too much, liking how dependent you’d become on him.

Jack has to contemplate this because he knows you’re right, stomach turning a little at the reminder that you’re going to use whatever he shows you on somebody else down the line.

That selfishly makes him want to cancel this whole thing and leave you completely clueless, hopefully to the point you decide to swear off sex with other men entirely. But he knows how stubborn you are and how stuck you get on something once it catches your attention, figuring you’d get on a dating app and find some idiot in finance to take your virginity as soon as he put an end to this arrangement.

So he lets you slip to your knees off the couch, taking his hesitance to decline again as a positive sign.

“Wait.” He interjects and you freeze, sighing in annoyance as you prepare for him to give another reason you can’t do it. Instead he pulls one of the pillows off the couch and slides in near his feet, your eyes softening as you shift so you’re kneeling on the plush cushion instead of the floor.

“How do I start?” You ask softly, eyeing the bunched up fabric in front of you with interest. He has to stare at the ceiling for a second, slightly losing it at the sight of you kneeling on his floor between his legs. “Do I have to get you ready?”

“No.” He says it gruffly and you tense again, his tone way sharper than he’d meant for it to be. “It’s… I’m ready baby trust me. Just give me a second.”

That calms you down immediately, enough that you rest your head on his knee as you try your best to be patient. His eyes go back to you at the touch and he watches the way you squirm against the pillow, clearly still riled up from the kissing and maybe even the thought of taking him in your mouth.

“Has it been awhile Jack?” Your voice is ridiculous now, clearly teasing him and developing this soft purr that almost irritates him.

His hand goes into your hair at the sound of it, tightening enough that you lift your cheek off his knee and stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Watch it.” He says lowly, using his free hand to untie his scrub pants as you eye the movement with fascination. Your lips part as you stare at his hand and the way his fingers twist the strings, he has half the thought to make you choke on the digits before you try and take anything bigger but your attitude has left him feeling just as impatient. “We’ve got to work on your manners if you want me to teach you.”

That makes you snap back into focus, frowning at his words and shaking your head as you straighten up on your knees.

“I have manners Jack.” You’re clearly trying to convince him, small hands smoothing over his thighs.

He starts to deny it but he’s cut off when you lean forward to nuzzle against him, face pressing right where he’s currently aching under two layers of fabric. His breath catches in his throat and he instinctively tightens the hand that’s in your hair, mumbling out an apology when you make a pained noise but barely loosening it after.

He feels like he needs to keep it there to have any sort of control in this situation, especially given the way you’re almost desperately rubbing your face on his lap.

“Should’ve told me you were this needy.” He half scolds as he shifts his waistband down lower, waiting for you to notice and pick yourself up just long enough to get his pants down.

You don’t give him long at all before you’re back to obsessing over the sight in front of you, eyes fully dazed now that it’s just his boxers separating you from putting your mouth on his hard length.

You’re clearly trying to be patient in an attempt to prove you have any sort of manners, a little pride rippling through him similar to the feeling he got when you had corrected yourself the other night to politely ask him for a kiss.

“You wouldn’t have done anything about it.” You say softly, not accusatory but confident in it like you know it’s true. You lean forward and kiss against the covered bulge, a groan leaving him. “You’re too good of a guy.”

“Clearly not.” He rasped just as you start to lose that faux patience you’re trying so hard to pretend you have, tugging at the waistband of his underwear and smiling softly when he lifts his hips off the couch without arguing. “And you know I never tell you no sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You’re still trying to talk to him but now you’re completely lost in the sight of him half naked and sitting there with his legs spread in front of you, too desperate to even be intimidated by the size of him. “You would’ve let me do this months ago Jackie?”

He sighs and tightens his hold in your hair again, bringing you forward until he can feel your breath where he’s most sensitive.

Your eyes flicker up to him and the sight is devastating for how deprived he’s been, a pretty young girl like you sitting so nicely on your knees for the first time ever. He can barely even feel that guilt and slightly sick sensation, knowing how perverted it is that he could probably get off just looking at your face and thinking about the way he’s about to corrupt you.

“Stop talking.” He instructs gruffly and you nod eagerly, eyes back on his length and only now looking a little nervous as you swallow before your lips part in anticipation. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Want it so bad.” You don’t hesitate to answer and your voice is a little whinier, swaying forward like you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

Jack lets you move until you’re right there, eyes locked on your face as you give him a nervous look and try to take him in your mouth.

It’s awkward and you’re tense, expression full of hesitation like you’re waiting for him to tell you how to do it properly but he lets himself bask in this for a few seconds.

He knows it’s sick but he finds you the most beautiful like this, confused and desperate to please him without knowing how to. You go between sucking and licking at the tip of his length and while it feels good, no doubt about that especially after how long it’s been, it’s nothing compared to how clearly inexperienced you are.

Finally, he snaps out of his sick fantasies of watching you embarrass yourself trying to please him, and he decides to actually do what you’d asked and teach you something.

“Relax your jaw baby. Just take what you can okay?” His voice is low and gentle, hand loose in your hair but clenching into a tight fist whenever you brush against his sensitive skin with your teeth on accident or try to overachieve and take him deeper.

You do seem to calm down a little now that he’s finally speaking, shoulders slumping and your eyes fluttering shut as you get used to the feeling of him on your tongue.

You’ve barely taken him at all but he’s transfixed by the sight, perfectly content to sit here and cock warm your mouth until you were ready to move him down your throat.

He watches you closely as you pull back to take a few deep breaths, pouting a little at his length and hesitating before you’re touching him with your hand. It’s all experimental, tugging and feeling the skin against your palm while he grunts above you and tries to control himself.

It’s barely sexual on your end considering how fascinated you are by the new experience but he’s halfway losing his mind knowing this is the first time you’re touching somebody like this.

“I gotta go soon sweetheart.” He says and your eyes finally snap back up to him, turning a little red considering you’d been caught just staring at his length as you touched him. “You can play with me all you want after my shift.”

Now you’re full on blushing but you nod your head obediently and lean back in to take him in your mouth again, a little more confident now as you lick around the head and repeat movements whenever it draws a sound out from him.

Jack can barely stand it and he has to put both hands in your hair to keep himself from fucking up into your warm mouth, groaning from the effort it’s taking and considering telling you to get back on the couch before he goes too far with you too early.

You’re clearly just as impatient because you try to take more of him finally and immediately gag at the sensation, pulling back and frowning up at him.

“Help Jackie.” Your voice is whiny and has a little rasp to it now and he kisses his teeth at the sound, petting your hair back out of your face.

“I can’t help with that baby, you’ve just got to practice.” He tries his best to soothe you but you’re clearly frustrated.

“Can’t you just force my head down?” You’re rubbing his thighs as you speak in that ridiculously bratty voice, wiggling around on the pillow like the thought alone is exciting you.

He wants to say no, wants to tell you why it’s such a terrible idea for him to forcefully fuck your throat right before he has to go to work. There’s a million reasons he should be rejecting you right now but that sick voice in the back of his head is struggling to get the words out, especially when you go back to softly kitten licking at his length to keep him hard.

“Fuck you’re nasty.” He gruffs out and your eyes light up at the words, nodding your head and taking him back in your mouth as you keep trying your best to fit him deeper. “You want me in your throat that bad?”

You can’t talk now but your desires are obvious.

He eyes the way you’re shifting on the cushion below you, adjusting his foot the best he can so it’s between your thighs as you kneel. That seems to make you even more desperate, rubbing against him almost feverishly now as you try to focus on having him in your mouth.

There’s no option to do so when he brings his hands back to your hair, silently showing you he accepts your request when he moves his hips off the couch and keeps your face firmly in place so he can push deeper down your throat.

He feels you gag slightly around him but your eyes roll to the back of your head at the same time and you hump against his foot even faster so he can’t find it in himself to stop, thrusting slowly to make sure you don’t end up getting sick or feeling too sore by the time he’s finished.

Jack knows this is far beyond teaching, he’s not even speaking anymore and instead just using your throat to get himself off but you’re even more eager for it than him and he’d never deny you anything you asked for.

“This tiny little throat.” His voice is nearing a growl as he helps move your head up and down his length, reveling in the way you gag and drool around him. “You’re doing so good baby.”

The praise seems to do it for you more than anything else, rubbing your core against his foot so eagerly that you can barely focus on sucking him off. You’re getting too messy to control yourself, mouth slipping off every few thrust before you whine at the loss and immediately take him back in your throat.

Jack takes pity on both of you, both for his own sanity and because he can’t stop thinking about the fact he’ll need to leave as soon as this is done.

You’re clearly upset when he pulls you off, making a loud noise of disagreement that barely sounds like an actual word and frowning at him when he sends you a stern look and wraps his hand around himself instead.

You seem to forget your anger pretty quickly as you watch him touch himself, hips slowed down to a slow rock against his foot as you stare at his length and the way he’s making himself feel good above you.

Jack has to look away when he comes because he feels pretty close to forcing your head back down and making you swallow it, although half positive you’d actually enjoy that more than him judging by how eager you are to try things.

You’re laying your head back on his thigh while he grunts and curses, tightening his fist and going back to staring at your face just for a brief moment so he has a clearer picture to think about.

It’s quiet in the living room afterwards and he feels an odd sense of embarrassment, a rare vulnerability considering you’re still fully clothed and kneeling on the floor. He fixes one of those problems by effortlessly pulling you up by your arms, settling you back against the cushions.

He stands and pulls his pants up while he does so, knowing he’ll have to shower off before he can go to work and get a new pair of scrubs anyways.

There’s a second of hesitation before he goes to get you some water, leaning over your dazed frame and kissing you softly.

“Was it good?” You ask quietly against his mouth, hand tangling in his hair like you don’t want him to go anywhere without answering you first. “You stopped me.”

“You were perfect.” He answers simply and he means it, would probably feel the same if you had accidentally bit him though.

“I wanted to taste you.” You’re pouting again and every time he thinks he gets used to you, you prove him beyond wrong. He sighs and leans further against you on the couch so you’re fully sinking into the cushion below you.

“Next time.”

It comes out before he can stop it and he fully plans to backtrack but your eyes light up at the idea of him letting you do that again so he doesn’t, letting it linger for a few seconds.

“Not when I have to leave you right after. You won’t like it and I don’t want to hurt you.” He’s talking in the stern and no nonsense way he does at work, trying to make sure you understand even though you’re slowly starting to smile as he speaks and he realizes you’re probably not paying any attention.

“You won’t hurt me Jack.” You whisper and it’s so sweet he almost considers calling in so he can stay with you a little longer. “Not in a way I won’t like.”

That makes him scoff out a laugh, a rare sound from him and you look even more pleased at the noise.

“You don’t even know what you like sweetheart.” He says softly and brushes your hair out of your face, letting both his fingertips and eyes trail down your neck until he reaches your collarbones. “But I’ll show you.”

“You’ll show me?” You’re teasing him now, biting your bottom lip to try and hide your smile to no avail.

“Yeah I will.” He smiles too and kisses you again, a little too soft considering what you actually are to each other.

He eventually manages to get off of you long enough to get you some water, watching carefully as you take a few sips and rubbing your knee when you wince at first. He wants to feel guilty for making your throat sore but he can’t, sick enough to admit he just feels the urge to make you take him deeper next time to see if you’ll really let him.

You’re still laying on his couch when he gets out of his brief shower, having changed his pants and taken a few deep breaths while staring in the mirror to try and get ahold of himself. He needs to switch back to reality for atleast a few hours, become the weathered doctor who doesn’t lose his mind over a pretty girl asking for favors.

You set your phone down on your chest, giving him your full attention as he moves towards the door to tug his shoes on.

There’s no indication you plan to leave before he does but he can’t find it in himself to mind the intrusion, going back over to the couch to give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Staying here?” He says in a low voice and you nod eagerly, eyes locked on his.

He lets himself think about his entire way to work, the image of you being there when he gets home from a hard shift. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to and having you across the hall was already a gift within itself.

Now you’d crossed a line and if he let himself forget the terms and conditions, the fact you were loosely using him just to end up with somebody else as the actual end goal, then he could pretend for a moment that you were the person he got to crawl into bed with when work was tough.

Despite how much he thought about you during his shift, every moment he wasn’t being bombarded with questions or saving somebody’s life on autopilot, you weren’t actually there when he came back.

He knew it before he even opened the door, confirmed by how neatly the pillows on the couch were placed again and the fact your glass of water was rinsed and put away in the dishwasher.

You’d made it look like you were never even there and he knew you still enjoyed his company, maybe enjoyed the newly added sexual dynamic even more, but that didn’t mean you wanted to comfort him after he lost a patient or help soothe him when his leg was bothering him from standing all day.

Jack had to remind himself of the part he was playing in your life currently and try his best to not be disappointed.

It’s two days until he sees you again and he thinks it’s one of the longest spans you’ve gone without talking in almost a year.

He’s just about to start really acting out of character by banging at your front door and asking if you’re avoiding him when he runs into you downstairs, freezing as soon as he enters the lowly lit laundry room to find you leaning against one of the washers and looking extremely bored.

You’re as beautiful as always, casually dressed in nothing but an old band shirt that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of shorts so small he’s pretty sure it’s just boxy underwear.

You don’t look up when he comes in until his leg slightly catches on the step, accustomed enough to the sound of the light dragging he sometimes can’t stop from happening when he’s extra tired.

It’s a relief to find that you don’t have any awkwardness on your face, no sign of being uncomfortable or upset with him.

Then he figures that might just be worse.

He would just about die if he had done anything that made you want to avoid him but the alternative seems to be that you just didn’t want to speak to him and that makes his chest sting.

There’s nothing but silence and the rattling of the old washer as it rocks back and forth on the cement floor, both of you seemingly having decided to not speak to each other first.

(sorry for the brief awkward spacing tumblr says this is too long)

It’s another five minutes of the now awkward stretch of quiet before you clear your throat, turning to face him where he’s fidgeting with his laundry baskets broken handle just to have something to focus on.

“So I went on a date last night.” You say softly, eyebrows raised like you’re genuinely interested in his reaction.

His stomach turns but it’s a relief to have you looking at him again so he takes it, swallowing hard and racking his brain for a response that’s appropriate.

“How’d it go?” He’s asking out of politeness but he’s silently praying you suddenly decide you don’t want to tell him about it. It wouldn’t even make him feel better to hear it had ended terribly, not wanting you to feel any type of negative emotions even if it technically was in his benefit.

He definitely can’t take any sort of mention of you being with another guy physically. He knows it’s coming eventually, it’s the sole purpose behind why he even gets to touch you, but he’s not ready just yet.

You’re quiet again and he really looks at you now, takes in the silent contemplation on your face and the way you tap your fingers on the metal of the washer for a second before pushing off of it entirely.

Then you’re in his space again and it’s like an instinctive move to cup your face, hand on your waist so he can lightly push you back against the machine he’d been in front of. You touch his chest, lightly rubbing in soft circles, and he wants to sigh in relief if that wouldn’t be so painfully obvious.

“Wasn’t a great time.” You whisper and your eyes are on his lips as you speak.

His eyebrows raise and his hand on your body tightens slightly at the same time he uses his thumb to press under your chin and make you tilt your jaw back.

“Why not?” He hates the thought of getting details but he needs to know some idiot from a dating app hadn’t done anything to hurt you.

You don’t answer right away, just standing there and letting your eyes scan over his features on rotation. You finally let out a small breath like you’re about to speak but it never comes, small hands moving to grip his biceps.

“Did he touch you?” He can’t stop himself from asking even though the question makes his voice come out low enough that your eyes flash with surprise for a second, snapping away from his mouth to meet his stare again like you’re looking for something in it.

You shake your head immediately, squeezing his arms and shifting against the vibrating machine.

He’s kissing you then and he tells himself it’s out of relief, the knowledge that you’re still untouched by anybody except for him instantly making this conversation easier.

You’re returning it right away and he’s pleasantly surprised by how quickly you caught on to the type of kissing he likes, his personal preference. He figures he should eventually tell you that not ever guy was going to like your constant licking into his mouth but for now he lets it be, wants you to be trying to please him specifically and not whoever you’d use these lessons with.

It’s ridiculously cute how desperate you get, only needing a few seconds of your tongue inside his mouth before you’re arching off the machine and making soft noises against his lips.

His hands are all over you as soon as he notices the state of you, sliding down to cup your ass with both palms and tug you tighter to his frame.

That makes you out rightly whimper, clumsily trying to hitch a leg around his waist and sighing in relief when he holds your thigh to keep it there. The wet sounds of your mouths fill the small room, body slightly shaking both from need and from the way the washer is vibrating against your back.

“Missed you.” You whimper it out when he pulls back to let you breathe, kissing down your jaw and tightening his grip on the soft curve hidden under your underwear. “Didn’t call me.”

“Were you waiting for me to call baby?” He asks softly, despite how much it had been bothering him, he would never want to make you feel guilty for not reaching out to him after what you’d done.

You don’t answer so he pulls his head out of your neck to look at your face, seeing the soft frown and the hesitation in your eyes.

“Hey.” He breaths out and pushes your hair back to get your attention fully on him, your body softening and completely leaning against his to the point you’d definitely fall if he took a step backwards. “I wanted to give you space. Let you decide when you wanted to continue this, if you did.”

“I don’t want space.” You counter and it’s a little past bratty but he’s so beyond fond of you that he can’t help but let the corners of his mouth turn up at the sound of it. “You’re supposed to take care of me.”

He’s not sure when your dynamic became this way but he feels it as much as you apparently do, knows it’s his duty to make sure you’re always fine and not needing anything he can’t fix. Now there’s the added element of making you feel good, touching you in ways you’re not used to and showing you what pleasure can be like, and he’s not taking it lightly.

“Then I’ll call.” He say softly and your eyes lock on his as you nod in agreement, his hand cupping your cheek so he can keep you still enough to kiss you briefly. “You want me to chase you and I’ll chase you.”

“Right now I just want you to kiss me.” You whisper and he doesn’t need to hear anything else.

You’re back to kissing and it’s feverish now, more tongue than anything and your hands groping each other anywhere you can touch.

He’s lifting you up off the ground just so he can press himself between your legs and swallow the soft needy noises you let out at the feeling, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist so he can’t pull away at all. You’re pressed back against the metal with his hands under your shirt and wrapped around your frame to make sure you don’t fall, thick fingers splayed out against your ribs.

It’s getting hotter in the room and it’s mostly due to the way you’re whining and trying to roll your hips into him, unsuccessful considering how hard he’s got you pinned back to the washer.

“Jack please.” You pant and pull away from his mouth, tucking into his neck and rubbing your soft cheek against his stubble like a needy cat. “Please touch me. Do anything.”

He’s grunting at the request and gently setting you back down on your feet so he can free up a hand, using it to push your shirt up to your neck. He’s not too surprised to find that you’re not wearing anything underneath and your surprised gasp swallows the sound of his low groan.

You’re whining lewdly when he leans down to press kisses against your skin, middle of your breast first to avoid putting his mouth where you really want it. You’re panting, chest rising and falling under his mouth, and tangling a hand in his ash colored curls to try and steer him where you need him.

He wants to smack your hand away and warn you to be patient but he wants you too bad to try and discipline you right now, letting his mouth latch onto to one of your hard nipples so he can hear whatever noise that brings out of you.

It’s loud and intoxicating, his head spinning a little as he keeps sucking and licking your skin, letting your shirt rest on the top of his head so he can use his other hand to roughly grope your other breast and make sure you’re getting equal attention.

“Oh fuck Jack.” You’re whimpering and trying to hump against nothing, back arching as you whine and hold him to your body like he has any plans of getting away from you. “T-that feels so good.”

“Come upstairs.” His voice is so rough it surprises himself, picking his head off your chest and letting your shirt drop so he can kiss you swiftly.

You frown at the loss of contact, rubbing your nose against his and still lightly petting his hair.

“Why not here?” You ask softly and he gives you a disapproving look that makes you sigh and rest your forehead down against his shoulder for a few seconds while you catch your breath. “It’s too far.”

He thinks for a moment before he’s adjusting his stance to pick you up off the ground, abandoning your laundry and his that both likely need to be switched out soon. He’d gladly let it sit and wash it again later if it means getting you up to his apartment as fast as possible.

You make a small surprised noise and cling to him, arms behind his neck and legs wrapped around his middle and he makes his way up the few stairs towards the elevators.

“Jack your leg.” The sight of the steps seems to remind you of his disability and he’d be more irritated by your worry if it didn’t sound so genuine.

You clearly don’t ever think too much about his leg restricting him, never shying away from asking him to lift heavy things or walk with you down to the store. You don’t treat him like he’s fragile or any less of a man for having limitations and he’s always liked that about you, same way he somehow likes your gentle concern even though it would have bothered him if it was anybody else.

“Think I can’t throw you around because of my leg?” He mumbles and you tense in his hold as he walks like you think he might be serious before you’re breathing out a laugh and hiding in his neck.

Jack finally gets back to his apartment, going crazy from the way you’d started to kiss his jaw and whine impatiently in the elevator. Your hands run up and down his arms like you’re marveling at the strength it takes to carry you for as long as he was, making soft needy noises and squirming around.

He can’t even care about the possibility somebody could see him with you, one of the neighbor he’d lived next to for years watching as Jack Abbot carries the much younger girl next door through his entry way as she whines for him to touch her more.

“Calm down baby.” His voice is soft once he gets to his room, setting you down on his bed and taking a few seconds to stare at you as you lay there and pout up at him.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and his gut twists a little at the observation, a mixture of desperate unfamiliar need and the same guilt from before accompanied by a new layer of it.

He thinks of his wife for the first time in a while. He used to spend every waking second with her on his mind but she had naturally started to fade from his mind once he met you, something he hadn’t even noticed until you’d already been living across the hall for a few months.

You’d came over for the first time and asked him to borrow some ingredients, strolling around his living room and eyeballing the photos on his walls while he poured some sugar into a small tupperware bowl for you to take back to your place. You had turned to him with a curious face and asked him where his wife was, obviously confused considering you’d never heard of her before despite how frequently you and him small talked.

That was the first time Jack noticed how little he’d been thinking of her lately, not just in the painful mourning way he’d been suffering through since she passed but in general too.

Now he was waking up in the morning and anticipating the next time you’d knock on his door, focusing on his health again so he could occupy you on your walks and not picking up too many extra shifts at work just incase you needed something and he wasn’t there.

Jack was thinking about her again now as you laid on his bed but only because he couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something this bad, trying to compare the feeling of you to how he felt in his marriage and still thinking it fell short.

He had loved his wife, undoubtedly, but he craved you in a way that almost felt inhumane.

“You’re being mean to me.” You say softly to break him out of his trance, having zoned out just staring down at you and the way your chest was rising and falling with every deep breath.

“I’m never mean to you honey.” He whispers back and finally moves to lay down with you, hovering over your frame and running a hand from your waist to your ribs as he kisses you softly. “I take good care of you, don’t I?”

It’s a bit mean to throw your words from earlier back in your face, especially as he lets his mouth trail down your neck. You make a whiny noise and grip his shoulders, nodding your head and shifting under him so your legs are spread further.

“Yes Jack yes, you take care of me.” You’re practically whimpering and he feels almost drunk from how easily you get this needy, pausing his soft kisses to shift up on his knees and tug your shirt over your head.

You’re the prettiest sight he’s ever seen and he can’t help himself from bringing his mouth right back to your chest, drinking in the way you gasp and moan while he’s licking and sucking on your nipples. His other hand is softly groping whichever breast he doesn’t have his mouth on at the moment and your backs arching off his bed, scratching his shoulders through his shirt.

“Please touch me.” You’re begging after only a few minutes of the slow torture and he lets out a sharp breath, shifting so he’s more to the side of you than on top.

You’re quiet when he rubs his hand down your chest and over your stomach, rubbing at the waistband of your underwear for a few seconds just to hear the way you pant before he’s smoothing over your thighs.

Your back is basically against his chest as he hooks your leg over his to make sure yours are nice and spread for him, kissing your neck softly when he rubs your hips above your underwear.

You bare your neck for him easily and he’s selfish in the way he marks you, sucking any part of your warm skin he can reach so you’re left purple and red all over. He wants anybody you see for the next week or two to know you’ve been with somebody else, to see the claim he laid to your body even if he doesn’t let things go as far as you want him to take it.

Jack doesn’t need to be asked twice to touch you, big hand leaving your hip so he can fully palm your core.

Your reaction is just the way he had hoped it would be, sharp gasp leaving your lips as you instantly buck up against his touch. You whine desperately when he goes back to rubbing your thigh instead, giving you a second to work yourself up to the point he wants you to be at.

“Jack.” You don’t even sound like yourself now and it’s intoxicating, so pleading and broken. “Please.”

“Please what?” He’s practically whispering, perfectly calm and the direct opposite of how broken you sound just from him lightly touching you.

He moves you so you’re fully between his legs, back against his chest as he cages himself around you to keep you from moving.

You’re practically shaking, whimpering and moving your hips against nothing with the hopes he’ll cave and end up touching you again. You’re distracting to look at, body bare except for the pathetic excuse of underwear shorts you’d been wearing under your shirt, like you’d just been hoping he would be the one to find you in the laundry mat.

He has half the thought to make fun of you for that, make you tell him exactly what you were thinking when you left your apartment wearing so little, but he doesn’t think you could handle him saying much at all right now especially not something so demeaning.

“I’m going to touch you.” He says gently instead and kisses the side of your head, letting his hand go back to groping your chest just to make sure you stay worked up.

Even though he doubts at this point he even needs to touch you for that to happen.

“Yeah yeah.” You’re nodding in agreement, seemingly pleased at his decision as you relax back against him and let him touch you freely.

His other hands back between your legs now, letting you get used to the feeling of somebody touching you where you’re most sensitive. He’s just rubbing back and forth, listening to the way you pant and pulling back whenever you start to try and shift against his hand on your own.

“You’re wet just from that?” His voice is a little mean now but you don’t seem to mind, trying to clamp your thighs around his hand but being stopped by the sharp swat he sends to your skin. You wince but move your foot back to the other side of his leg so yours stay open, pouting softly at the silent punishment. “Answer me when I ask you something.”

“I’m always wet around you.” You admit with an embarrassed tone lacing your words, squirming like you wish you could hide yourself from the way he’s staring down at your body. “Want you so bad.”

“I want you too.” He kisses the side of your head, still rubbing you with just enough pressure to make you feel the friction but not to actually get off. “Gonna make you feel so good, you’ve just got to be patient.”

“Stop being scared to hurt me.” Your voice is shaky but as firm as possible, trying to show him you’re a big girl and can handle a little bit of the roughness he’s so clearly holding back.

It’s obvious in the way he was grabbing your throat your first kiss, moving your body around easily whenever he needed to, and scolding you just enough for you to be able to catch the mean tone seeping in accidentally.

Jack clearly has a darker side to him that he’s not letting you see and it’s obviously frustrating you, wanting to be taken seriously.

“I’ll hurt you if that’s what you want sweetheart but not for your first time.” His words don’t leave any room for argument so you don’t even try, sinking back against his firm chest and letting out a deep breath when he shifts behind you and presses himself forward.

It’s not long before you’re not able to wait anymore and he lets you scramble to tug down your underwear, keeping his fingers lightly rubbing between your folds and watching as you struggle to get the fabric past his insistent hand.

Eventually he lets you pull them off and then he’s right back to touching you, bare this time. You both suck in a breath at the contact and you’re practically laying down from how far you’d slid down his chest, spreading your legs as wide as they can go and whimpering while he touches you.

“Do you touch yourself like this baby?” He can’t help the curiosity, the image of you in your bed trying to get yourself off stuck in his mind now.

You shake your head and frown, trying to twist your neck to look at him but being stopped when he uses his free hand to roughly grip your chin and make you keep your eyes on the way he’s touching you, thumb on your sensitive clit now while you roll your hips the best you can.

“No I…” You can barely think let alone speak, clearly struggling as you make a pained and desperate noise. “I get nervous.”

Jack sighs and collects some of your wetness on his middle finger before finally pressing it against the tightness of your hole, not pushing in just yet but teasing it with light pressure and letting you get used to the feeling.

“When you’re with somebody, they should always be this gentle with you at first.” He’s saying softly, remembering that he’s supposed to be actually teaching you something and not just getting you off because he desperately wants to.

You frown deeply as he starts to talk and he doesn’t really understand why, thinks maybe you’re still being pouty that he won’t get rougher with you.

He tries to distract you by finally pressing a finger inside of you and it seems to work for a second, another gasp leaving you as you instinctively clench around the intrusion. He groans, his length throbbing against your back at the thought of being fully inside you instead of just a finger.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He rasps and buries his face in your hair for a few seconds to try and collect himself enough to keep teaching you something, anything at all so he doesn’t keep letting himself think this is something it isn’t. “They’ll have to really get you stretched before anything okay? You need to remember that baby.”

It bothers him so much he can barely focus, the thought of somebody not taking their time with you. He doesn’t want to picture you with another man in general but especially not in a way that hurts you, leaves you too sore the next morning with nobody to take care of you.

He’s so distracted by his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice your face stiffening at first, body a little tenser against him even though you’re still softly squirming to try and get him to put his finger deeper inside you.

“Jack stop.”

He does so immediately and goes to pull out of you before you’re making a panicked noise and closing your thighs around his hand. He lets you this time, pauses all movements just to wait for whatever it is that you need.

“N-no don’t stop that, god please don’t stop that.” Your voice is breathier now like the thought of him taking his hand away from you makes your chest tighten. “Just… stop talking about anyone else.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that and then his hands moving again, enough for you to relax and spread your legs back open.

You’re both quiet now as he adds another finger, lingering in the weight of your request and what it could mean if anything. He’s half sure you only asked because it was pulling you out of the moment, maybe making you nervous to think about doing this again with actual stakes, but the way you desperately tried to stop him from pulling away lets him pretend it was for another reason.

He’s selfish in the way he touches you now, thick fingers moving in and out of you while you cry and whine, gripping at his forearm whenever it feels like too much. He likes the way your nails dig into his arm when you think you might be close, thighs clenching and shifting when his thumb gently circles your swollen clit and how your lips part in breathy cries of his name.

He especially likes that.

You come with moans of his name filling the room and nobody else’s after you’d specifically asked him to stop mentioning other guys. Jack knows it’s selfish, even a little sick and perverted, but he could probably finish just from hearing that.

He’s throbbing against your back and he’s sure you’d be able to feel it if you were able to focus on anything after coming, body shaking a little as you pant endlessly and fall limb in his hold.

There’s a lot of softness that comes after, kissing the side of your head and being gentle in the way he cleans you up. It’s torture to be between your legs and getting to fully appreciate the sight of you for the first time without be able to touch you more but he doesn’t want to overstimulate you so early on.

He does let himself think about that vividly though, kissing against your thighs and picturing when he’s going to be able to put his mouth on you.

You’re quiet above him, eyes a little tired but still overly soft as you run your fingers through his hair and watch him wipe you down.

Then he’s back ontop of you and kissing you softly, shifting your back so you’re laying back against the pillows and not sitting up. It’s soft and bordering on romantic which makes his chest tighten, hoping you have no plans to leave his bed anytime soon.

“You okay?” He asks quietly against your mouth and he can feel you smiling, still touching his hair with one hand and letting the other drift down to the back of his neck.

“Felt so good.” You whisper back and your voice is a little hoarse from all the whining you’d been doing, nose bumping against his and then rubbing on his stubble for a few seconds. “Can I take a nap here?”

“You can do anything you want.” He says immediately, no hesitation as he gets up to get you one of his shirts and help you get comfortable, jumping at the opportunity to keep you with him just like he wanted.

Jack typically has a hard time sleeping through the night in general so he definitely never naps, needing to be truly past the brink of exhaustion to ever rest.

Yet he finds it to be the most simple thing in the world to crawl into his bed with you after taking off his leg, kissing you for a few more minutes before he’s wrapping you in his arms and tugging you back against his chest. He’s rubbing your stomach softly, hand under the shirt he’s given you, listening intently until he hears your breathing even out and then drifting to sleep right after you.

—

It’s one of the highlights of his decade to get to wake up with you still there, warm and making soft tired noises when you feel him start to stir.

His room is dark now other than the slight illumination coming from the moon outside of his window, casting just enough light for him to be able to watch your eyes flutter open.

You give him a soft sleepy smile and instinctively lean in to give him a kiss.

It’s easy to pretend that you are more than whatever this is when you act like this, mouths moving together sensually as if you have nowhere else you’d want to be.

Jack groans softly when your tongue pushes into his mouth, meeting it eagerly with his own and moving so hes hovering over you. Your hands are on his back, spreading your legs below him to let him slot between them.

He feels like a teenager again from how quickly he gets hard, your soft body under his putting him under some sort of spell. His hips shift and you let out a needy whine, scratching his shoulders lightly like you’re trying to encourage him.

You’re still making out slowly when he starts to thrust down against you, slow rolls of his hips to give you just enough friction to start to get desperate.

You’re tugging at his shirt fabric and he takes only a second to sit up and pull it over his head, back on you immediately and kissing you even more frantically. He’s moving your own shirt up towards your ribs but neither one of you wants to stop long enough to take it off, only able to when you need a quick second to take a breath.

It’s the first time you’ve both been nearly undressed together and he feels the effects of it instantly, your chest pressing against his when he lays back over you. Your skin is soft and hot to the touch, those now familiar soft whines leaving you when he lets his hand knead at your chest again.

“Jack please.” You’re whimpering and he finally stops kissing you in favor of sucking at your neck, bringing those marks from earlier back to the surface. “Can’t you just fuck me?”

He groans at the words and has to tuck his face in your shoulder, still rocking his hips against you even though they stuttered when you said that in that whiny voice of yours.

“Trust me, I want to fuck you so bad I can’t even think.” It leaves his mouth before he can stop it, not wanting to reject you again without making sure you know how badly he wants you.

“Then do it.” You’re begging now and he picks his head up to look at you, eyes wide and a little frustrated like you know he’s going to say no. You gasp when he thrusts down even harder, biting your lip as you stare at each other desperately. “Please Jack? Want you inside me.”

“I can’t baby.” He growls and kisses you to give himself a second to think without you arguing.

You’re quick to forget you were trying to convince him of something because you’re kissing him back deeply, angling your head so his tongue can get further and further inside your mouth.

He has that sick and perverted thought again that he’s coincidentally training you to be the perfect girl for him, kissing in a way he likes and not knowing how else to do it. Jack is selfish and wants everything you do to be for him, wants your body to instinctively move and react how he taught you regardless of who gets you next.

The thought of somebody else makes him want to forget his morals and fuck you like you’re begging him, be the one to take your virginity and fill you up for the first time.

He starts to reason with himself that it would actually be a good thing because Jack would never let himself hurt you in a way you didn’t like, he’d make sure you felt good around him and came so hard you weren’t able to see straight.

There’s nobody else who could fuck you like he could so he’s almost convinced himself that it’s a good idea when your phone rings on the nightstand.

You both stop, you’re completely tense under him and he sighs as he kisses you one more time and rolls off of you.

He lays there on his back as you sit up to grab your phone, screen a little too bright in the dark room and causing you to wince. He stares at your pretty face under the light as you open it up and answer it, not thinking much about the interruption despite the small disappointment he feels.

His hand is on your bare knee and rubbing your skin is soft circles, soothing both you and himself by keeping the contact.

“Hello?” Your voice is as soft and sweet as always, a little confused sounding which makes his eyebrows raise. “Oh Carter.”

Jack tenses up at the sound of a males name leaving your lips, his hand freezing and falling still on your knee. You’re avoiding looking at him as you listen to whoever it is speak on the other line, a deep voice bleeding through the speakers just enough for him to hear but not enough to make out the words.

“Tonight?” Your eyes go to the small digital clock on Jacks side of the bed, having to glance over his body in the process. You meet his eyes just for a second before they’re darting away again and it makes the pit in his stomach grow in understanding. “Of course I didn’t forget. I’ll be ready by nine.”

You’re hanging up after a quiet goodbye and now it’s suffocatingly silent in the room.

You’re still sitting up with your legs crossed under you, avoiding looking at him like you’re not still wearing his shirt and covered in marks he’d given to you. He waits for a minute before he’s sitting up and running a hand over his face, on the opposite side of the bed from you and facing the wall so you can’t see his expression when he finally gets himself to speak.

“You’ve got a date tonight?” He rasps out, trying his best to sound unaffected even though it comes out low and tight.

“I forgot.” You whisper back and you sound further away now, a glance over his shoulder confirms that you’d stood up off the bed and are searching for the shirt you’d shown up in so you can swap out of his. “He’s taking me to some art show downtown.”

Jack stares at you as you move around the room, eyes scanning over your body when you pull his shirt over your head and neatly fold it before putting it on his dresser. It feels really final to watch you change back into your own clothes, turning to meet his eyes and letting out a soft sigh when you see he’s already watching you closely.

He hopes it doesn’t show on his face, doesn’t want to be too obvious that he’s probably about two seconds away from throwing up.

“Carter.” He says simply and now you really stiffen.

You stand there for a few seconds like you’re waiting for something, eyes a little expectant and then full on disappointed when he scoffs and moves to put his leg back on so he can stand up and get out of the room that’s suddenly suffocating.

You leave his apartment and all the warmth goes with you.

He stands in his dark kitchen with regret sitting heavy on his chest, wishing he had stopped you and asked you to stay with him instead.

He isn’t sure if it’s the fear of rejection or his own guilt that stopped him but he knew he couldn’t ask you to do that. You deserved better than him and his baggage, his late hours at work and his dangerous hobbies that he needed to keep himself busy with to not think about the things that sent him spiraling.

He couldn’t imagine forcing you into a life where you had to explain him to your friends and family, ignore the curious and judging looks from his own when they realized just how young you were.

Jack knew you were lonely, it was obvious considering how much time you willingly spent with him and it was bad enough he’d taken advantage of your desperation for connection and nearly slept with you.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he stopped you from enjoying your youth, having a fun late night in the city surrounded by artsy people your age and not stuck on his couch watching old reruns because he’s too tired after work to properly take you out.

Jack hates himself for thinking all this and then still obsessively wanting you.

So much so that he purposely lingers near his truck right around the time you’d told your date you’d be ready. In his defense, he did actually need a few things from the corner store, so he sat in the parking lot and waited until he saw you come down.

Your date met you at the entrance of the lobby but didn’t take your purse from you or the jacket you were holding, smiled at you politely but couldn’t be bothered to open the door of his car or even wait for you to get in before he did.

It made Jack sick to his stomach all over again, jaw clenched as he sat in the dark interior of his truck and watched you drive off with some asshole only an hour after he’d had you sleeping next to him, panting under him and begging him to fuck you.

Jack decides right then that it all needs to stop, not just the sex lessons but helping you in general. He can’t be that person for you without wanting more, he’s selfish and possessive over somebody that was never supposed to be his and he knows it’s not fair to you.

So he doesn’t answer any of your texts that night, stays quiet in his living room whenever you knock on his door and waits until he hears you leave for work before he goes to check the mail.

He feels terrible for avoiding you but keeps trying to convince himself it’s in your best interest.

Jack is half asleep when the silent treatment finally breaks.

He’d fallen asleep on his couch accidentally, a beer can too many on the table in front of him and the same movie he’d been watching beforehand starting to roll credits. He should have been in bed sleeping after pulling a double at work but he couldn’t stand being in there lately, tossing and turning and trying to catch the faint scent of you lingering on his pillows.

There was a second of confusion, not sure why he had waken up in the first place, until the sharp knocks on his door made him flinch.

He was standing up on autopilot to open it, wincing at how stiff and sore his leg felt from falling asleep with it still on.

Any thought of his pain was gone the second he opened his door and saw your face, tears on your cheeks and your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“I need to talk to you.” You said immediately and he ushered you into his apartment, not necessarily wanting to be in an enclosed space with you but recognizing your tearful voice was far too loud to have a conversation in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” He said softly and takes a few steps towards you on instinct, cradling your cheek and staring down at you when you nuzzle against his touch. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re an asshole.” You seem to remember that you’re mad at him because you step away from his touch, pushing his arm back down to his side and storming further into his apartment.

He stands there completely frozen as you toss your purse onto the chair near the couch, your eyes scanning over the beer cans and the obvious indent of where he’d been sleeping.

Then you’re back to looking at him and he knows what he probably looks like to you. The exhaustion is obvious on his face, clothes a little baggier than normal from a lack of taking care of himself and a constant awkward shifting on his leg to keep pressure off of it.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” Your voice cracks a little and he deflates, taking a few steps closer again even though he doesn’t think you want him to touch you. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” His face faces in disbelief at the idea you could ever do anything wrong in general, especially to him. “Of course you didn’t sweetheart.”

“Then why?” Your words are louder now and they linger in the tense air, face pained as you wait for him to answer.

He sighs and runs a hand over his stubble that desperately needs some maintenance, wishes he had the time to plan out everything he wanted to say to you so he doesn’t accidentally fuck it up more than he already had.

“I just… I can’t do it anymore.” He lets his hands fall to his sides with a loud defeated clap and shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t watch you go out with these idiots knowing they can’t take care of you.”

He hopes what he’s trying to say is an obvious to you as it is to him, not able to bring himself to actually voice the fact that he has feelings for you beyond helping out a neighbor.

“You didn’t stop me.” You sound devastated, head shaking like you don’t believe anything he’s saying to you.

You’re not crying anymore thankfully but you look so hurt and disappointed that it makes him physically ache, moving to grab your arm softly and guide you to sit down on the couch with him.

“I waited for you to stop me and you didn’t.” You continue once you’re sitting beside him, legs pressed together in a small amount of addicting content. “Isn’t it obvious by now that I only want to be with you?”

The words hit him so hard that he doesn’t even have time to process them, eyebrows furrowing as the need for more information pushes him to speak.

“Why would that be obvious? The entire point of this was for you to be ready for other people.”

You look a little embarrassed at his sound logic, staring down at your lap where your hands are fiddling with your fingers. He sighs and takes one of them in his, squeezing it softly until you let your gaze drift back up to his.

“I don’t want other people.” You whisper, staring at him with a small amount of hope in your eyes like you’re just waiting for him to understand. “And I don’t want you to be with anyone else either. I just figured… you wouldn’t cross that line without a good reason.”

Jack thinks it’s a little juvenile of a plan but he also knows you’re not wrong. He would have never touched you without the feeling of helping you out with something, no matter how much he had wanted you since the second you moved in.

That little lie was all he needed to get himself through the shame and guilt, the ability to pretend it was for a greater cause and not because he was sick and desperate for a girl half his age.

“Jack.” You sigh when he doesn’t respond for a few seconds, turning so you can face him better and press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw. “Stop thinking.”

“That’s a big ask.” He mumbles back but he gladly turns to give you a real kiss, holding your face in his hand and keeping your mouth against his.

You kiss until you run out of breath, pulling back from him but rubbing your nose against his and letting your small hands grip his forearm desperately.

“Then just be with me for tonight.” You try to reason with him in any way you can, rubbing his arm softly and blinking at him with those big pretty eyes that drive him so crazy.

He stares at you for a moment before he’s standing up off the couch and tugging you along with him, ignoring the little surprised noise you make in favor of lifting you up with his hands on the back of your thighs. You gasp and then giggle softly once he’s got you in the air, arms behind his neck and legs around his middle as he starts to walk you to his room.

“You’re crazy if you think you’re going anywhere after tonight.” He tells you once he gets you settled on his bed, kissing the smile off your face as he climbs over you.

It’s a direct mirror of the other night as you get each other undressed fully this time, kissing the entire time and tasting his tongue deep in your mouth when it starts to get more heated.

“You’re going to be mine.” He says firmly once he’s got you in nothing but your panties, making sure your eyes are locked on his when you hear it. His free hand is all over your body, rubbing from your smooth thigh up to your chest and cupping around your neck for a brief moment while he waits for you to respond. “If I fuck you then you’re mine.”

“I’ve been yours.” You whisper easily, like you didn’t have to put any thought into it.

He falters, hand tightening around your throat on instinct and then releasing the pressure when he sees the way your eyes light up with interest.

“Don’t be nasty baby.” He’s teasing, kissing the corner of your mouth and bringing your leg up so it’s around his waist and he can press himself against you. “Gonna be gentle with you for your first time. You deserve it.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You’re pouting and gripping at him impatiently, running your hand between your bodies to touch his stomach and fidget with the waistband of his boxers. “That’s what I want Jackie.”

“Didn’t ask what you wanted.” He grumbles back, not caring that it comes off a little mean because you whine at the sound of how rough his voice had gotten and he knows you like it.

He’s back to kissing you and it’s filthier than normal, more tongue and spit than anything else.

You’re as vocal as always, whining and begging impatiently when he gets your underwear off and starts to touch you again.

Jack can barely think straight when he’s back inside of you, fingers pushing in easier this time now that you’ve felt the intrusion before and know what to expect. You’re gasping and crying out immediately, unintelligible words that he blocks out in favor of focusing on how you feel when he’s stretches you out.

“Want it so bad.” Your near sob gets through to him and he hisses through clenched teeth at how wrecked you sound already, shushing you softly and kissing your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“I know baby I know.” He’s whispering but you don’t seem to be hearing him, spreading your legs further to try and make space for him to slot back between them instead of using his fingers.

Jack is just as impatient as you but he’s terrified of hurting you too early, although throbbing so hard in his boxers that it’s painful to shift around.

It’s not long before it’s too much prep for both of you and you’re watching him with your chest heaving as he gets himself undressed the rest of the way, leg going on the floor right alongside your underwear that he had slowly pulled down your body before climbing back over you.

Your eyes go down between your bodies where his leg is and he tenses for a second despite knowing you mean well with the concern you have on your face.

“Let me ride you.” You say softly and his chest tightens with that old familiar shame he was still actively working on ridding himself of.

“I can fuck you.” He says gruffly and your eyes flash with regret, pouting a little like you’re worried you’ve hurt his feelings with your thoughtful suggestion. He kisses the expression off your face, a long deep one followed by a few quick pecks to try and ease your mind. “Next time baby.”

He says it both because he knows realistically he has limitations, there will be plenty of nights he’s not able to rail you into his mattress like he wants to, but also because he knows he would die a happy man the second he got to see you bouncing on top of him and desperately trying to get yourself off.

You look like you want to argue but you’re stopped when he’s pushing your legs apart and moving between them, sharp gasp leaving you when you feel his hard length pressing against you finally.

“Fuck Jack.” Your voice is sharp and already a little pained just from the dull sensation of him lining up with your hole, a growl leaving him at the sound of your distress.

“Just relax baby.” He says as softly as he can even though his throat feels tight and raw, kissing you gently to try and get you to calm down enough for him to push in. “You’re too tight sweetheart.”

“I… I can’t.” You let out another sharp cry when he shifts forward, nails digging into his shoulders so deep it makes him wince and lower his head down on your shoulder.

Jack has to use every ounce of self control he can muster to not just fully push himself into you and feel that tight heat he’s getting a taste of, that same sick and selfish part of him that wants you in the first place begging him to just take you already.

Instead he takes a few deep breaths before he’s kissing you with more focus, going back and forth between softly rubbing your side and massaging your inner thigh to try and urge your body to relax and accommodate him.

It’s a torturous ten minutes, especially due to your soft whimpers and the way you cry his name whenever he accidentally moves himself deeper.

Then you’re finally calm enough, bare chest rising and falling with the deep breaths he’d instructed you to take.

“Want you inside Jack.” You’re whining in his ear, clinging to him tightly and almost suffocating him when he immediately takes your queue and pushes in. You tense up again at the brief surge of pain and then let out a satisfied cry when you feel how full you are, clenching around him so ridiculously that he almost needs to pull out to give himself a break despite barely starting.

You’re both too overwhelmed to speak much more once he starts to actually fuck you, deep thrust accompanied by filthy kisses to keep you from waking up the neighbors with how desperately you’re whining for him to keep giving you more.

It’s pure need on both ends, your hips eagerly rocking upwards to try and meet his thrust sloppily while he uses his free hand to roughly push down on your stomach and keep you in place.

“Jackie.” It’s nearly a sob from you now and he can tell you’re close from how much tighter you’d gotten, almost an impossible squeeze for him to keep fucking you through.

He’s grateful you’re so inexperienced because he doesn’t think he’d last long either, not with the way you look as you stare up at him with teary and trusting eyes.

“I know baby you’re doing so good for me.” It’s more of a growl than anything else but he can barely think let alone speak enough to keep encouraging you. “Taking me so well sweetheart.”

“I’m so full Jack.” You whimper and cling to him tighter, nearly pulling him fully down on top of you and knocking him off his balance. “Feels so good.”

You’re stuttering through your sentences and slurring each word, eyes a little dazed in a way that makes him need to squeeze his shut to avoid coming inside you just from that fucked out look you have.

It’s more sweet than heated when you actually do finally reach your peak, holding onto him still and kissing the side of his jaw softly with your face buried in his neck as you squirm and shake your way through your orgasm.

He stays inside of you for as long as he can so you’re not shocked from the sudden feeling of emptiness but you’re squeezing him too tight and he has to pull out as soon as you’re starting to relax. You whimper immediately at the lose and pick your head up to pout at him, eyes panicked like you’re genuinely distressed he didn’t finish inside you.

He shushes you gently and kisses your face over and over, rubbing your side as he lets you fully come back to reality before attempting to clean either of you up or get you dressed.

“Jack.” You’ve got the needy and frustrated tone he loves so much and he knows you’re not dropping it, meeting your eyes with a fond sigh as you glance down at where he’d came instead of inside you.

“Next time.” He promises again and he means it, fully intending to have that conversation with you ahead of time now that he’s got you like this.

Jack isn’t too opposed to the idea of getting you pregnant, not even sure he’s able to with the amount of pills he takes, but he has to push down that thought along with the rest of the sick ones he gets when he looks at your needy eyes.

You smile a little at the loose promise and tuck yourself back into his shoulder, soothing any concern he has about what just happened or how you’re supposed to operate going forward.

He’s undoubtedly the luckiest guy in the world to have you wanting him like this, feeling safe in his arms and desperate for him in the way he’d been for you since the second he laid eyes on you.

"what're you doing here?" he asks, a little sharp, and you sense his annoyed tone.

"craig asked for help with something," you answer nonchalantly, "more importantly, where are you going?"

andrew glances at you. "none of your business."

you knew he wouldn't give you a real answer. "that shirt... it's very..." you try to find the words, "lavender."

"i know what color it is."

"right. i just wasn't aware you owned anything that's not grey or black."

he sighs, turning to sip his coffee. "was there something you needed?"

"no, just," you pause, eyeing him from head to toe, "you look nice."

andrew's eyebrow twitches.

andrew's disinterest or annoyance with you is no secret. you're one of the few people who pushes his buttons and he honestly doesn't know why he puts up with you.

you're one of craig's friends who has become close to the rest of the codys, and you particularly like to spend time commenting on things andrew does.

"you're supposed to rinse the sponge once you're finished." "i know. i'm not done." "ok, i'm just saying... the sponge could use a bit of rinsing."

"andrew, can you stop staring? god it's like you're drilling a hole on my head." "...maybe i am." "well knock it off." "you're annoying."

"he's going on a date." you hear deran say as he passes by.

"really, man?" andrew huffs, he doesn't want to make a big deal about it.

"oh." oh. you nod, feeling a twinge in your chest.

andrew sips his coffee and subtly glances at you, wondering why you're not making a snarky comment about it.

you fidget with your bag. "well, have fun then."

and then you leave to go find craig by the pool.

andrew frowns, something from your reaction not sitting right with him.

andrew's back by nine.

you're still at the house, ended up staying for dinner because craig ordered enough food to feed an army and it felt wasteful to leave. part of you is relieved he's back early, but you're still a little on edge.

"yo." craig nods his head at andrew, throwing him a can of beer.

he catches it easily, plopping down on the couch next to you.

and you can still smell his damn cologne.

"how was the date?" you can't help but ask, and then regret it immediately after.

"fine."

of course. not a drop of detail. you exhale quietly and eat your pizza.

andrew's gaze moves from the tv to you, wondering about your unusual silence. you'd normally bother him about everything, so technically you should be bothering him about this. you should be asking him a million questions by now.

was she your type? what did she wear? where did you guys go? was she nice? did she comment on the lavender shirt? was she funny? did you kiss her? did you...

and of course andrew doesn't know these questions are running in your head right now. you just don't want to ask. you can't. you don't want to know the answer to them. because deep down you're scared of the answer. you'd rather not know.

feeling that painful twinge in your chest again, you bite your lip and push yourself off the couch.

"alright, i'm taking off."

"what?" craig whines, "dude it's not even 10."

"yeah i got an early thing tomorrow." you lie. "see you guys."

you grab your bag and walk away, not even saying andrew specifically goodbye like you typically would.

andrew watches you leave. something's definitely wrong. he can feel it in his chest, in his head. he needs to get to the bottom of it.

he gets up from the couch and follows you out.

you're about to walk out of the gates when you hear andrew calling over you.

"what're you doing?"

"..leaving? duh." you cross your arms.

"i mean, why are you walking? where's your car?"

"oh," you lower your arms, "i sold it."

"you sold it?" andrew's brows raise.

you sigh, "yeah, i needed the extra money."

"jesus..." andrew sighs too. "come on."

"what?"

"what do you mean, what? i'm driving you home."

your face scrunches. "it's fine, i'll just walk--"

andrew calls your name sternly. "get in the car."

not up for debate. got it. you grit your teeth and walk towards his truck, climbing in. "...thanks."

andrew just glances at you before starting the engine.

the ride is quiet. your plan to walk home while sulking went sideways so now you have to hide the stinging feeling until you're home.

you already know what this is. you think you've actually been hiding the fact that you have feelings for andrew quite well and for quite some time. you dodge it with snide comments, slightly making fun of him to make sure he won't notice.

but you can't do it right now. you can't hide your sullen face. and andrew sees it clear as day.

"so, uh," he clears his throat, "what's wrong with you today?"

he gets right on it.

"what?"

he glances at you again. "you're all quiet."

"...i'm just tired."

"no, that wouldn't stop you normally." you roll your eyes at his comment. "you'd be making fun of my purple shirt and asking a thousand questions about my date and then some."

right. the date.

"so what's wrong?" he asks again.

"nothing is wrong, andrew." you sigh. "maybe i think you actually look good in that shirt. maybe i'm just not curious about your date that much. i did ask how it went, right? there. i asked."

"you don't want to know if she was rude to the waitress? where she's from? what she does for a living? how i met her?"

your jaw clenches and you close your eyes for a second. "no, no, no, and no. believe it or not, i don't care that much about you."

that lands a lot more meaner than you intended. it's actually not at all what you want to say. you want to tell him how much you do care and how much you want him and how he deserves the best in the world. but how can you tell him that?

andrew goes quiet.

"i'm sorry," you apologize. "i didn't mean that."

"so what do you mean?" he asks, pulling over to the front of your house.

"nothing. it's nothing." you repeat. "thanks for the ride."

you immediately open the door when andrew shifts the gear to park and the door unlocks automatically, but andrew's faster to reach over and grab the handle, shutting it close and locking it again.

"andrew--" you gasp when you turn around.

he's so close. you can smell his cologne again and feel his breath on your skin.

"tell me." he almost begs.

you feel that tightness in your chest again, and your gaze drops down to his lips.

and then out of adrenaline, emotions running high, you mentally scream fuck it and kiss him.

andrew's taken aback. he goes rigid.

he wasn't expecting this, you can tell. and after a few seconds of you basically kissing a wall, you pull away, unable to look him in the eye, unlock the door manually and leave without a word.

you can't believe you did that.

why would you do that?

you rush to your door, but again, andrew's fast. he's climbing out of his car and racing to you. your hands shake as you fumble for your keys, and then you feel his hand wrap around yours.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." you curse out, trying to calm your nerves.

andrew turns you around to face him, cupping your face and searching deep into your eyes. he wipes the tears away.

and then he kisses you this time. he pecks you once. twice. three times. until your arms start reaching up for him too.

hours after, you're lying in your bed next to andrew, bodies tangled as you both catch your breaths. he pulls you into his arms, foreheads touching.

"something's on your mind." he states.

you really can't escape him. "not sure you want to know this one."

"try me."

you bite your lip before looking at him and asking; "did you.. sleep with her?"

andrew softens. he shakes his head. "no. left right after i finished eating. then i went for a walk."

you won't admit you feel glad hearing that.

then andrew pulls you in even closer, whispering by your ear. "kept thinking of you."

you look up at him, eyes sparkling with hope. "yeah?"

"yeah." he mutters, leaving kisses on your neck. "been thinking of you for a long time. but you keep making fun of me. thought you hated me."

"sorry," you sigh, "defense mechanism. for what it's worth... i thought you hated me too."

andrew pauses and looks at you, making sure you're looking right at him when he says: "i don't hate you. i can never hate you."

you smile at that.

"who knew andrew cody is such a sap?"

That night, Titus has the best kill record he’s ever managed, his eyes sharp and his trigger finger precise. After the governor’s ball, it’s always a bloodbath, a bus-full of faceless inmates from nearby CTF brought in to celebrate. Father’s idea decades ago. What can he say? It helps with the prison overpopulation crisis, mitigates risk, and satisfies the blood sacrifices demanded from each of the council’s dynasties.

By the time Chip’s driving him to the Waldorf Astoria at two in the morning, you’re fast asleep and he has the blood of nearly a dozen men on his hands (and splattered over his clothes and face). His whole body is warm and loose and relaxed, a casual confidence coursing through his veins. This version of Titus would never tolerate being questioned by anyone. This version of Titus is entitled to the seat of power. This version of Titus could be loved by you. Imagine that. He certainly couldn’t have before tonight.

You barely stir in the California king bed when he comes in, giving him a content little sound as a greeting, just as he’d expected. He slips into the en suite bathroom, quickly scrubs the death from his skin, zips his clothes into the opaque dry cleaning bag, and walks naked toward the bed as he towels off his damp curls. Waking up more at the sounds of his moving around the suite, you sleepily greet him, “Welcome back, Titus.”

“Hi, princess.” He slides into bed behind you and greedily pulls you tight to his chest, pleased to find you in only a bralette and tiny panties. These aren’t your comfy pajamas; these are you sugar baby pajamas. The warmth of his bare body soothes you and you shimmy deeper into his embrace. In between kissing across your shoulders and back, he murmurs, “Not too mad at me for waking you up?”

“Definitely not,” you admit with a sly smile spreading over your lips. “I was trying to wait up for you, but I was lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of a Survivor marathon on cable.”

Titus chuckles and runs his hands down your waist, one hand going lower to squeeze your ass. His mouth on your shoulder goes mean for just a beat, biting down right where your shoulder becomes your neck. As you gasp and instinctively roll your hips back to rub against his cock, he rasps, “And why were you waiting up for me, kitten?”

“Thought you might want to regale me with your tales,” you tease softly, still not quite awake as you feel him tugging down your panties. You move around to help him, thrilled with the way he immediately wraps his arm around your body to grope over your plush stomach, your coarse pubic hair, and ultimately to your thigh, which he pulls back to get to your clit. While he lazily touches you, savoring getting you wet slowly, you ask breathlessly, “Did you have fun tonight?”

Titus buries his forehead in your hair, smelling the bright and sweet hotel shampoo. He lets himself grind his hips forward, his cock fully hard now and leaking for attention. “Plenty.”

“Silly question,” you laugh. You reach up behind yourself, twine your fingers in his post-shower fluffy silver hair, and amend, “Did you win?”

That makes him grin, biting your shoulder as he finally lets himself wet his cock between your folds. “Of course I did, bunny.”

You bend slightly at the waist to give him better access to your pussy and sleepily ask, sounding all sweet and lilting and innocent, “Seems like you might wanna fuck me to celebrate.”

“Yeah, I think I would.” Voice hungry and low, he musters all his self control and adds, “But what you need comes first. If you want to go back to sleep, I-”

“Titus,” you interrupt quietly. Urgently. In a swift movement, you flip over, push him onto his back, and straddle him. His jaw clenches at you attempting to be dominant, the need to be in charge flickering in his eyes. He knows you’re baiting him, but he still can’t resist. You lean down, hover your lips half an inch from where he can reach them, and tell him seriously, lust dripping from your words, “I want you to fuck me like I’m your trophy. Like you own me. Fuck me because you’re a winner.”

Titus snaps. He snarls as he grips you by the waist and flips you onto your stomach. He tears your bralette off with an unapologetic rip that makes your heart stammer, its clasps flying in every direction. The moment you’re naked, he shoves his cock into you in a harsh thrust. Deep. Unapologetic. When his fat head hits your cervix, you gasp at the almost-pain. The intensity.

You try to get balance on your knees and elbows to get into a more standard doggy position, but he growls, “Stay still. I’ll decide how I want you.”

You let out a whimper as he yanks your hips back and shoves your head down into the pillow, forcing you to turn your face to one side. His thumb presses into the corner of your mouth, fish-hooking your lips apart until your skin burns. Your cunt clenches around him as soon as he has you completely at his mercy.

Sheathed deep inside of you, Titus purrs, “There you go. Good girl.”

And nothing ever feels better than his praise, so you smile, nestle into the pillow, and let your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on nothing but his cock pistoning in and out of you. He doesn’t even touch your clit, but it feels so fucking good. He knows your body. Knows how to take you. His cock massages you and your little cries and moans are the best music he’s ever heard.

Gazing down at your content expression, Titus coos, “Look at you. Taking it like such a perfect whore without asking for anything in return.”

With your brain quickly turning off, you squeak out, “You made me- Jesus. Made me cum three times already tonight. I want-” Your eyes roll back when his cock hits just right, making you feel so completely full. All you can manage is to groan out a version of what you’d been getting out, your voice desperate and moaning, “Use me. Want you to use me.”

The sound of your needy voice rockets up his spine and his thrusts pick up, chasing his release as he lets go of the pressure to get you to your own. “Yeah? That’s what you want, baby? Just to make me happy?”

You nod desperately and arch your back so he can slide in further, have a better view, grab you by the hips. Both his hands grab your waist, bruising hard, and the sensation of his roughness lets you go limp. Your brain softens up and you pull in a deep breath that loosens everything inside of you.

When he feels you going even more pliant, Titus becomes an animal. He bends forward and grips you by the tits now, his fingers cruel, and you let out a pathetic yowl. He just chuckles, “Sensitive?”

“Mhmm,” you whimper. Your breasts are beyond tender at this stage in your pregnancy, but the pain only makes your toes curl more. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he laughs darkly. His chest touches your back as he mounts you, a predator taking down its prey. Droplets of water from his shower prickle onto your neck, making you shiver in his arms, but you know he’s got you. His left hand drops down from your breast to your stomach, digging in, like he’s turned on by the idea of you being knocked up by him. He confirms your suspicion with a growl: “You’re so gorgeous like this. Carrying my family’s future. Letting me have you exactly how I need. Absolutely perfect. Perfect.”

You whine. You can tell how close he’s getting and you’re possessed by that knowledge. All he needs to get off is you. Your body, your expression, your soul. It feels like he’s eating you alive and you’re happy to be consumed by his gnashing teeth and flaming touch. His thrusts slow when his peak approaches. He edges himself through it, biting down on your shoulder, until he groans and buries his forehead against your skin, cum spilling out hard and fast and urgent.

Titus has to bite back ‘I love you’ as the endorphins flood him.

The morning of your anatomy scan, Titus wakes up before you. He still has his arms wrapped protectively around you, exactly how he’d positioned himself when he slipped into bed a few hours after you last night. In the calm white sun that filters through the sage green linen curtains you’d chosen for the bedroom, though, he notices something new.

The way your bare stomach sits against his fingers.

There’s a swell at the base of your abdomen that he swears he hasn’t felt before. A bump.

His breath catches in his throat as he clutches you closer. He splays his fingers over the soft hill of your belly and can’t even think for the adoration flooding his synapses. Praying you aren’t secretly listening to him being so gentle and vulnerable, he presses his forehead to the nape of your neck and whispers,  “Papa loves you, little one. I promise you’re going to have the greatest life.”

You stir a bit, smiling as you wake to the sound of his gravelly voice, and coo gently, “Are you talking to the baby?”

“Caught red-handed.” He kisses your temple as you partially turn toward him. “I’m…practicing. I haven’t said ‘I love you’ in a very, very long time. To anyone. But I know that’s important for children and, well, Dr. Rubenstein said that the baby’s developing its ability to hear right now, and-”

“You don’t have to justify wanting to bond with your baby,” you tell him quietly as you turn onto your back. You take his hand and rest it on your little bump. “Go on; I won’t listen.”

“You can’t not listen,” he chides. But he doesn’t move his hand. In fancy, he gently strokes your belly with his thumb. He curls down onto your chest and murmurs, “We’re going to find out if you’re a boy or a girl today. We both think you’re a boy, but that probably means you’ll be a girl, doesn’t it? Danforths are always contrary and I assume you’re no exception.”

You snicker and twine your fingers in his lovely curls. Softly scratching his scalp, you add, “We don’t have to find out until they’re both, you know.”

“I’d agonize over it if I didn’t know,” he admits, nearly silent. Then, after a beat, he says, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

A slow, sleepy grin spreads over your lips. “Yeah?”

“I want to know what they’ll be like,” he goes on. You feel his breath on your bare skin. “It’s funny; I want to know the strangest things. If they’ll be quiet or loud. If their favorite color might be green or blue or yellow. If they’ll have red hair.”

“Mmm.”

“Falling asleep on me, darling?”

You force your eyes open and tell him seriously, “Definitely not. I’m never sleepy.”

“Says the pregnant woman who naps every day,” he teases as he sits up, planting a kiss on your forehead as he goes. “Dr. Rubenstein’s going to be here soon, bunny. Time for breakfast.”

You pout and flop onto your side, making absolutely no move to get up. “But my stomach hurts.”

“You know the rules,” Titus lilts. He stands up from the bed and you peek at his gorgeous toned back; he’s developed a habit of sleeping naked since you’re in bed together and you definitely don’t mind enjoying the view. Pulling the comforter off of you, he asks, “Does anything sound good? I’ll put in your order now.”

“Everything sounds terrible,” you whine. Gradually, reluctantly, you sit up, stretch your arms over your head, and stand up. You slink into his arms, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. Titus immediately – it’s become an impulse, an instinct – encases you in his arms. He kisses the top of your head as you sigh, “Maybe some fruit or something to start. Settle my stomach. Then something heavier.”

“Good girl,” he soothes. He gives you a quick squeeze and then instructs you, “Go brush your teeth and wash your face. I’ll pick out something for you to wear.”

You nod gratefully and drift into the bathroom as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Titus likes picking out your clothes and you like letting him. Some small part of you knows this would sound toxic to your previous self, but you like how wearing what he picks makes you feel like his. It’s like he’s choosing armor for you to wear by his side as you go into battle together. It makes your role feel simpler, more integrated, more like you and not someone you’re trying to become. They’re all your clothes, anyway, just his selections.

Once you’re feeling a bit more awake with your floral face wash rinsed off and your mouth tasting like sharp mint, Titus slides into the bathroom behind you already dressed. He’s the picture of sex appeal in a white button down rolled to the elbows and tailored gray slacks. This is a lot more casual than he usually looks, especially with his hair softly moussed instead of gelled, and you want to eat him alive. He presents you with a two-piece set in baby blue, the front tied with girly bows, lots of delicate scalloped details around the hems. He also offers a charming pastel pink unlined bra and panty set, the right blend of comfortable and cute. “Too on the nose for a gender reveal?”

You take the clothes from him and shake your head. “No, it’s perfect.” You shimmy out of your silky sleeping slip and step into the panties before telling him with a poke to his chest, “You’re being cute today, Titus.”

“I reject that accusation outright,” he replies, reaching up to cup your tits before you put the bra on. He pinches your nipples cruelly just to be a bastard and laughs when you gasp and shiver. “I’ve never been cute before and I have no intentions of ever becoming cute.”

You step forward, closing the distance between you, and take his hands in yours. You guide his right hand to your tiny bump and lilt, “Try telling that to your baby, papa.”

Titus sighs and then bends down to kiss your belly before manhandling your arms into the bra straps. “Fine. But don’t tell anyone.”

You kiss the tip of his nose. “You know I never would.”

Titus rolls his eyes and finishes getting himself ready while you do the same. Then the two of you actually sit down together and eat a meal together, a fairly rare occurrence with his demanding schedule. He has one of his usual breakfasts: A rare steak, truffle scrambled eggs, and foie gras on toast. You’ve convinced him to lay off the seafood and cured meats for the sake of your sense of smell; otherwise, he’d have oysters, too, and smoked salmon or beef tartare or anything else that tastes like it was killed within the hour. Meanwhile, you pick at a truly lovely fruit salad, trying to combat the nausea, until Titus’ clear displeasure with your lack of protein convinces you to order an omelet.

Once you have only a few bites left, with Titus reminding you how proud of you he is, you hear his watch radio crackle on. Titus sighs and presses the receiver button to be greeted by a familiar voice. “Smith. I have Dr. Rubenstein at the main gate. Are you ready for her?”

“Bring her over,” Titus confirms. “Mrs. Danforth is finishing breakfast, but she can get set up.” He stands up so that he can meet Smith and the doctor at the door, turning to you with a stern expression you can’t help but find sexy. “Make sure to finish your plate, princess. You haven’t eaten enough the past few days.”

You roll your eyes, take another swig of orange juice, and half-teasingly agree, “Yes, sir.”

He smirks at your total lack of real defiance, takes you by the back of your neck, and plants a firm kiss on your forehead. “There’s my good girl. Come to the bedroom when you’re ready.”

“Mhmm.” Before he can leave, though, you take his hand and make sure he gives you a real kiss. He sighs into it, brushing your cheek with his thumb, and you feel his shoulders relax. You know how to soothe him without saying a word. When you pull back, you squeeze his bicep and remind him, “In a few minutes, we’ll know the sex. I can’t wait.”

That makes him smile. With a nod, he says, “Me neither.”

Then Smith knocks on the front door and you wave Titus away, pointedly taking another bite of your omelet to appease him. It takes you another few minutes to finish it, but you manage to and your stomach doesn’t even feel like a revolt by the time you’re ready to get up and join them for your appointment. As you hand off your dishes to the maid at the sink – Titus says you can leave them wherever you ate, but it still feels rude to you – you ask the chef, “Could you bring me a ginger tea whenever you have a chance?”

She smiles warmly. “Of course, Mrs. Danforth. You know you don’t have to ask so politely, dear.”

Shaking your head, you lightly tut. “You and Titus. I’m still working on being an entitled rich lady.”

She snickers and gets back to her work.

In the bedroom, Titus is grilling Dr. Rubenstein with questions the way he always does at the beginning of your weekly appointments. She’s a complete pro at assuaging all of his fears, not that he’d call them that. You’re grateful to have a doctor who knows how to manage Titus emotionally; it’s not an easy feat.

When you stride into the room, Dr. Rubenstein and Titus both snap their attention to you. It’s strange, always feeling like the center of Titus’ world, but you’ve gotten used to it. You close the distance between them and give the doctor a quick hug before sitting on your chaise, familiar with the routine by now.

Dr. Rubenstein chuckles as she puts on her gloves and prepares her ultrasound wand, “Eager to get started today.”

“Definitely,” you reply with a big smile.

You lift up your top and tug down your shorts as Titus materializes above your shoulder, perching over you like a hawk the way he always does. His firm hand rests on the back of your neck like a kitten he might need to scruff. It comforts you. Dr. Rubenstein touches the wand with its warmed gel (Titus insisted she get a bottle warmer the first time he saw you gently wince at the cold) to your abdomen and maneuvers it around for a minute. She taps at the keyboard, taking pictures of different areas, while you sit there nervously.

“No signs of any congenital abnormalities or any of the thirteen conditions my practice screens for at this stage,” she says, sure to make eye contact with Titus. “I don’t see any reason we’d need to do an amniocentesis; I know that was one of your concerns, Mr. Danforth.”

He nods tightly. “I wouldn’t want to do anything with unnecessary risk.”

“Of course not. Trust me: Baby looks perfect. Absolutely nothing to worry about right now besides keeping up with your vitamins, diet, and exercise. You’re both doing a phenomenal job with this.” Before she turns the monitor toward you, she double checks to be safe, “We’re finding out the sex today, correct?”

You nod eagerly, leaning forward as if it would give you a better look, and Titus confirms with one of his standard grunts.

“Okay, great. Baby’s in just the right position for us.” Dr. Rubinstein’s smile glows as she turns the ultrasound in your direction and announces, “You’re having a baby girl. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Danforth.”

With watery eyes, you confirm, “A girl?”

“A healthy girl with ten fingers and ten toes,” she assures with a warm smile. “She’s the perfect size for this week, heartbeat is strong. Everything looks great.”

“I guess that means no TJ ,” you sniffle out, tenderly touching your belly once the doctor’s wiped away the warmed gel. You look up at Titus, blinking back the tears, and laugh softly, “We’ll have to come up with something to call her.”

But Titus is staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched, his eyes red at the edge. Trying hard not to cry.

Anxious at his lack of response, you reach for his hand, squeeze it to get his attention, and ask nervously, “Are you upset? I know you wanted a boy, but she’s healthy and she’s-”

“It’s not that,” he’s quick to assure. “Not at all.”

Dr. Rubenstein excuses herself to give the two of you some privacy. You tug Titus toward you so he’ll sit on the chaise next to you. Your fingers go into his curls and you murmur, “Then tell me what you’re thinking.”

For a minute, though he tries, Titus can’t speak. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever known how to speak at all. What is he thinking? He couldn’t bear to say it out loud, to tempt it into existence. Because, before today, everything about your pregnancy was abstract. He could vaguely imagine what it might be like to parent with you, to raise another Danforth, to become a new type of family man. He felt what he assumed was love for his abstract child growing, yes, but it was more the principle of the thing.

Now, he’s thinking about having a daughter. A sweet, chubby-cheeked, pink little thing who looks up at him like he’s never going to hurt her. And that reality twisting up in his gut and yanking his throat into silence is the knowledge that he never could. His daughter will always be safe. Protected. Already, he can feel her weight in his arms. See her falling asleep on his chest as he rocks her to sleep. When he felt your new bump this morning, he was holding her already.

He swallows hard, presses a kiss to your forehead, and whispers the first truth he’s ever felt, “I’m happy, kitten, that’s all.”

You beam and tease, “Titus Danforth? Happy?”

He nods and cups your cheek. “Unbelievably so.”

When Brendon Park aka Park The Shark stumbled across your dating profile on Hinge, your days were numbered.

You even switched for the night shift, to not accidentally meet Brendon while working. It wasn’t that often he was called down for a consult, but whenever there was a chance, he took it and you found it quite annoying.

Jack knew you were ecstatic about your job, being a senior resident, you were like a right hand to Robby, who was so pissed when you came up with the idea of the shift switch.

He was honoured to have you in the ER at night, you were maybe more compatible with others on this shift, constantly joking around with Shen and Crus.

It was just another night as the other, you clocked in, going through the charts with Samira and Mel, when some guy was wheeled in, his leg cut off in the car accident.

Jack told Robby to go home, while he took care of that guy himself along with the others. Someone paged the ortho for the consult.

Brooding and intimidating energy flooded the ER, causing everybody to shut up and lift their gazes from what they were doing.

“Park The Shark…” Whitaker sucked in a breath when he clutched on his bag, walking past the tall muscular figure.

Your eyes bore into him, already feeling his sharp glare on you, causing you to shiver. Brendon stormed into the emergency room, checking the viability of the case for him to take it to the OR.

After a while, he was out, and you thought he’d be gone. Well, he wasn’t even supposed to be there, something clearly changed and he surely did that on purpose, and now he was walking slowly towards where you stood along with Mel and he cocked his brow in arrogance.

“Still had no interaction with you on Hinge. What, are you scared?” he rolled his eyes, being so full of himself, that it caused Mel to blink twice from his intensity.

On the other hand, you let out a huff of disbelief. “Leave me alone, Park. It’s my business who I’m giving a chance to date.”

“Hm. You know I won’t give up. I’ll get you one way or another.” He took another step further and you instinctively backed off, Mel unusually stepping in front of you to shield you.

“Please, leave.” she mumbled.

“I’m okay, Mel, really, you don’t have to–” you placed a hand on her shoulder and she shook her head.

“No, he’s harassing you and he should go. He has a case to work onto.”

Suddenly Jack was there, his brows knitted in interest. “Hey, what’s going on? Something you missed here, Park?”

Brendon turned his head to look at him, his face twisted in displeasure. “No. Just a friendly chat, Abbot.”

Jack took a few steps towards the shark, until there was no space between their bodies, their chests almost brushing against each other. “Leave, or I’ll make sure the HR will hear about your unprofessional behaviour. That would be really bad for your precious career, don’t you think?”

You felt something in your chest twitch, your breath almost stopped, you never thought anyone would stand up for you like this. A smile curled up on your face and Mel mirrored it with her eager one.

Brendon gave you one last sharp look and he was out, leaving the space.

“He’s like bad, really bad.” Mel stated and you let out a relieved sigh.

Jack came up to you, gently squeezing your arm. “You okay?”

Lifting your gaze to meet his eyes, you nodded. “Thank you.”

“No probs, you looked like you could use a hand. Park can be intimidating.” Jack chuckled amused, his hand still lingering on your skin.

It was dangerously comforting. “I didn’t think he’d be here, when it’s night.”

His brows furrowed again, and he took a hint. “Wait a moment, he’s the reason you took the night shift instead of the day?”

Looking to the side, biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded.

Mel gave Jack a concerned frown and she walked away, giving you a space.

“If you’re comfortable talking about it, then go on. What’s the background?” Jack pressed into it, his other hand resting on your shoulder. Too much touch for just colleagues, but you didn’t care.

“About two months ago he accidentally found my profile on this dating app, and he tried to shoot his shot, but I declined it. And he started to pursue me here, trying to talk to me, inviting me for a coffee, dinners, and whenever I said no, it only impulsed him to be more pushy. And now he looked through my motives and he stayed for the night, trying it again.” you huffed in frustration.

Abbot couldn’t believe what he just heard, his protective senses flaring up.

“Oh… I see.” He wasn’t even able to say something that wasn’t full of emotion.

You frowned at his reaction but he gave you no space to speak.

“I’ll take care of it.” His voice was barely a whisper, the corner of his lips twitching in that reassuring smile.

With a sharp inhale you nodded and went back to your patients. His eyes just stayed on you until you disappeared behind the curtain of the emergency room.

Crus was looking through some papers when Shen approached him, eating a cookie.

“Hey, man, you noticed our soldier being weird around our night rookie?” Shen kept his voice low to not gather attention, only to have Crus to lift his gaze to give him an obvious expression.

“You mean, it’s pretty much clear, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Everybody around with common sense sees how Abbot is watching over her. He’s like a protective dog.” Crus rolled his eyes, putting the chart back into the bracket on the counter near the nurse station.

“Oh. I would pay good money to see him take down Shark in a fight.” Shen almost choked on his cookie when Jack appeared out of nowhere, giving his back a little smack.

“Have anybody said fight?” Abbot smiled smugly, cocking his brow while taking in both of the men.

Crus shook his head with an amused laugh. “No, man, Shen here is just blind, he should be sent to the optometrist for a checkup.”

“Shut up, Crus!”

Later that night, there was another accident that had to be checked by the surgeon and you expected Garcia to come over but it was Brendon again.

Your body told you to step away from the case but in that exact moment your feet decided to move, it was Jack who put his hand firmly on your lower back, keeping you in place.

“You’ve got this. Come on. I’ll be by your side. Not going anywhere, okay?” His eyes were glued to your face not moving, not caring about the patient there, he waited for your consent. And you nodded with a small smile.

Park on the other hand watched you both closely, jaw clenched with tension, the anger bubbling inside him. Even a little thought about you allowing Abbot to touch you, riled him to the point of insanity.

“What do we have here?” His sharp voice cut through the comfortable tension between you and Abbot.

Ellis rounded the patient, giving him the insight he needed, standing in front of you both, as if shielding you from the Park’s roentgen gaze.

“Hm. Okay. I’ll take it up.” Shark grunted, on his way towards you.

Jack, noticing him by the corner of his eye, took a step to stand directly in front of you, his broad figure towering over you.

“What about a coffee in the morning? Somewhere else than here from the automat. I know a good place that’s open from early hours.”

Park stopped in his tracks, hearing what just left Abbot’s mouth. He was sure you’re gonna say no.

“It would be inappropriate to go on a date with my attending.” You chuckled, rubbing the heat on your neck.

“A date? As far as I know, it's just coffee.” Jack had his lips curled in a cocky smirk.

“Well then, it’s a yes.” You pursed your lips with a soft smile, blush crept on your cheeks.

Park snorted, causing you both to look at him.

“Are you fucking serious? You said yes to this old man? Really?”

Jack knitted his brows and he glanced at the ortho surgeon, bouncing on his feet a little, ignoring the ache he felt in his leg.

“Do you have a problem, doctor Park?”

You bit your lip, holding your breath while taking a glance at Park.

Brendon’s eyes darted toward your figure and then back at Abbot.

“Absolutely not, doctor Abbot.”

And then he retreated out of the emergency room, his foot kicking the door open.

With a deep sigh, you moved to the patient to prep him for the surgery.

Ellis watched you intently, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“Thank you.” She leaned closer to whisper to you.

Giving her a confused look, you tried to ask her, but she was quicker with her response.

“You just won me fifty bucks.” She winked and left the room.

Sitting next to him in the small cosy cafe, it felt unreal. You were seated next to a window, a few sun rays illuminating your hair and your tired face, your thigh brushing against Jack’s. The place was already packed, the morning rush in full swing, while you held the mug in your hands, leaning into the plush seat, enjoying the company of your older attending.

Jack flexed his hand that was resting on his thigh next to yours, fighting the urge to touch you, he tried to be as respectful as he could.

“Um… how’s your leg? I’m impressed that you’re able to stand on it through the whole night.” You tried to come up with something to talk about, to slice through the tension.

His smile softened at your genuine concern. “I have good days and bad days. This time is a little bit rough, but I can manage. I’ve been through a lot worse things than to be bothered by some discomfort.”

With a hum you took a sip of the coffee, shifting slightly, your eyes falling to where his legs were.

“Actually, I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow to receive a new type of prosthetic, a robotic one.” His fingers tapped against his knee.

“Oh, sounds fun.” You chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes.

“You can go with me if you’re interested.” Jack felt a nervous knot forming in his stomach, a little fear that you’d turn this offer off.

But instead your face lit up a little, your eyes were glowing and you nodded eagerly. “Of course. That would be a pleasure to be your emotional support.”

A relief washed over him and a sigh left his mouth. “Thank you.”

Silence stretched between you two, only a buzz of the cafe was heard when you decided to rest your head against his shoulder, nuzzling more into his side, a scent of disinfectant and his musk hit your nose. It was a combination that allowed your body to relax.

Jack was surprised by your gesture, but he didn’t stop you. He was very pleased, finally moving his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring soft brush.

No words were said but it wasn’t necessary. You both knew what was hanging in the air and you really loved to bask in it.

Placing a mug back on the table, you reached for his left hand and your fingertips brushed against the metal on his ring finger. Jack frowned slowly, a sharp exhale left his chest.

Your gaze scanned the ring, your fingers mapping it.

“Why are you still wearing it?” Your question was soft and careful.

“I feel like I’d lose myself when I pull it off. I’m afraid that my memories will fade quicker than I’d like, it’s like she’s with me all the time. That she never left.” His words hit you hard, you knew he was a widower for a while.

You looked up at his face with a smile. “I understand. I don’t want to be nosy, or to be rude. I’m just curious. It’s actually heartwarming to know that you care this much. You have a big heart, Jack.”

The way you said his name, something in his chest shifted and he chuckled softly.

“You think?”

“I know.”

Walking you to your apartment, he told you something about his life in the military, you were eating every single of his words.

“So, tomorrow for my leg appointment?” He stopped in his tracks when you reached the apartment complex.

“Sure. Where do we meet and when?” You clutched your bag, smiling widely.

“Gonna pick you up here at nine in the morning? We both have a day off tomorrow, so… maybe we can get lunch after?” Suddenly he felt so scared that he might be too much for you, too old and cranky.

You noticed his look, he was a master of hiding his feelings, but you spent a lot of time beside him to see right through him.

Taking a step towards him, you placed a soft kiss on his cheek and you gave his scrubs a playful tug.

“We can have whatever we want tomorrow. Don’t overthink it, doctor Abbot. I’ll be here at nine, waiting for you.” And with that you stepped back, leaving him speechless and blushing.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. See you.” Jack grinned like a teenage boy, his stomach flipping in excitement.

The next day he was there, his truck parked at the curb, exactly at nine.

You were wearing a flowy dress, it was a nice change from the scrubs you were wearing every other day.

Walking towards him, you clutched a small purse to your side, you pecked his jaw a little. But Jack went fully in, his hands resting on your waist, leaning close to your face and taking your lips into a soft kiss.

Warmth spread through your limbs, your lashes fluttered from the excitement and you breathed out.

“Good morning.” He whispered against your lips, his eyes wandering over your face, taking in your visible happiness.

“Morning, doctor Abbot.” You brushed your hands over his shirt on his chest.

“Time to get to that appointment. We’re gonna have plenty of time to be touchy later.” He rushed you into his car, rounding it with you to open the door to the passengers seat and watching you climb up there.

Through the ride you noticed he was slightly tense, his jaw clenching and relaxing.

“You okay?”

Jack gave you a quick nod. “Just… it’s always very hard to face the fact that my leg is gone and that there has to be something to replace that missing piece.”

Arriving at the centre for veterans, there were exactly four floors of doctors offices, many specialists there, ready to help the people who served in war.

Hearing about this place in the past you never thought you’d be visiting it anytime soon.

Jack made his way over to the reception desk with you standing next to him. A woman sitting there lifted her gaze, her face litting up in surprise.

“Ah, doctor Abbot! What a surprise!”

He grinned, giving her a nod. “Hello. I’m here for—“

“Yes, your appointment with our prosthetist. Yes, he’s waiting for you already. You know, everybody is talking about it here, you’re such a hero for our community. Giving those men and women hope for a better life.” She just babbled while looking through some charts.

Your hand rested on his lower back, giving him a reassurance that was saying “don’t worry, I’m here”.

The woman stood up from her seat, giving him some papers. “Just sign this and hand it over to our specialist.” Then her eyes landed on you, taking in your figure.

Jack scribbled down his signature and noticed how you were being scanned. “This is my girlfriend.”

The woman’s face melted into softness and she sighed. “That’s good. You have to find happiness again, you know.”

He nodded, taking a paper and reaching for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. A blush crept over your cheeks.

“Thank you and have a nice day.” He smiled at the woman, leading you to the direction of the office where he had a specialist waiting.

“A girlfriend, huh?” you mumbled into his shoulder, while clinging to his side, smile wide on your lips.

Jack just chuckled, the waiting area was pristine clean, but warm enough with all those stories and photos pinned to the bulletin board.

You didn’t even have time to settle into the seats when the door of the doctor’s office opened, revealing a young man, maybe in his thirties, excitement written all over his face.

“Doctor Abbot! Nice to see you! It’s a pleasure to meet you, my mentor told me so much about you.” the man stepped out of the office, outstretching his hand to greet Jack politely.

Abbot hummed, accepting his hand, finally letting his knotted brows relax.

“Nice to meet you too. Shall we start? I want it to be over soon…”

“Absolutely, I understand. Come on in, I’ll lead you through the process of what I prepared for you.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting in the very comfortable chair by the wall, close enough for Jack to reach for your hand if he felt the need to.

The prosthetist showed him a prototype he had for him to start with, how it’s gonna be clasped to the rest of his leg, how it’s gonna work and you also saw Jack’s amputated leg out on display, and your expression changed into a respectful one. You couldn’t even imagine what horrors this man must've endured in his military days. And out of all of it, he sat there, back narrow and eyes taking in everything he needed to know about the change that was about to happen.

“So… are you okay with that? Are you really ready for this?” The specialist asked, just to be sure.

“Absolutely. I had this old thing for longer than I expected, so I think a little change won’t kill me.” His humour was a blast and you chuckled quietly.

The prosthetist was surprised at first but then he let out a soft laugh. “Of course.”

Even though you’ve seen many things in the ER, tending very rough wounds, this was a whole new level of your experience.

When the specialist helped Jack to navigate his leg into the prosthetic, you stared at them, frozen to your seat, breathless.

“Now, the electrodes that I put on your skin will attach to those inside the prosthetic, so it will scan your nerves and then act like your actual part of the leg.”

Jack nodded, humming and trying to figure out if he’s comfortable or not. Trying to move that thing a little, it appeared to work out very well, mirroring the reflexes of his other leg.

“Jesus, it feels like my leg just grew back.” Trying to joke, you started to laugh and he looked at you with an amused smile.

“Seems like your lady shares a sympathy for your humour, huh?” The prosthetist chuckled, looking at how the prosthetic was clinging into Jack’s leg.

You cleared your throat, hiding your grin into your palm, when Jack reached for your hand.

“Come here, take a look.”

Carefully, you got on your feet, watching how he moved the leg, interest written over your face.

“It’s amazing.” You breathed out and the prosthetist gestured for Abbot to step on his feet to try a little bit of walking.

With a hesitation, he got off the table, stabilising his steps and he walked towards a window and back. A clear joy was playing on his face, you could see it perfectly.

“Good?” You asked.

“I can’t believe it’s this good. There’s surely some magic behind it.” Jack was still in disbelief.

“That's pure science, doctor Abbot. And your own body is getting used to something that’s close to what it used to be there.” The prosthetist sighed in relief, scribbling down some notes.

“When will it be ready for him to wear it fully?” You asked what was hanging in the air.

“I’ll take measurements of his leg and I guess about four weeks. I’ll call you when it’s ready to schedule an appointment.” The prosthetist smiled at your genuine concern.

Jack stumbled a little, letting out a frustrated yelp and you instinctively stepped in front of him, your hands on his arms to brace for the impact.

“Easy, you old man.” You chuckled and he just leaned down to capture your lips into a soft kiss.

The prosthetist hid his smile as he moved to his computer to tap the notes into a file.

“I’m not that old.” Jack hummed against your lips, looking into your eyes.

Later that day you ended up on the walk through the park after you two had lunch.

It still felt surreal, that your attending was your, now, boyfriend. Still, you didn’t want to rush it.

After a while you stopped at the nearby tree that was blooming. Your face turned serious.

“How do we play it from now on? You’re my attending, Jack.”

Jack leaned against the tree, his gaze fell down.

“First of all, I’ll kick Park in his balls if he ever shows up again near you.”

That made you laugh, causing you to hide your face into his chest.

“I’d like to capture that on camera so I’d watch it every day.”

Jack wrapped his hands around you, keeping you close, he nuzzled his nose through your hair and inhaled your scent.

“But you’re right… I’m still your attending. I’m… shit, I don’t know. Usually I have tons of advice, but I can’t give myself one.” He cursed under his breath.

Your fingers mapped his abs through his shirt, finding peace in those soft vibrations his voice made through his body.

“I can go back to day shift with Robby. He’d piss himself from happiness.” You smiled at that image.

“I don’t know… that would mean I wouldn’t be able to see you that much. Getting days off would be harder…” he had a thoughtful expression, his brows knitted in frustration.

“Well, you’re right. What if we keep it under the radar for a while? I mean at work. We don’t have to change anything, that would bring attention to us. And I like to keep this private for a while, to enjoy the thrill of the moment, tension of our newfound… bond?” You lifted your gaze to see his face you adored in the past months.

Abbot cupped your face, smiling widely. Your breath caught in your throat, lashes fluttering a little as the silence stretched between you. His thumb brushed your cheek, still staring into the depths of your soul until he leaned closer, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

A few weeks passed by, you took it slowly, dates there and there, sharing peaceful mornings in your now favourite cafe spot, only one who was suspicious was Robby, obviously.

Park was still watching you from a distance, also noticing how Jack got more protective over you, how his touch lingered for a moment longer than it should and how you were biting back your affectionate smile every time he asked you or praised you in the emergency room.

One time when you clocked in for your shift, you were humming your favourite melody, walking through the door to the nurse station, when Brendon, very accidentally, bumped into you.

“Coffee. Tomorrow afternoon. I don’t take no as an answer.”

And when you sucked in your breath to speak, Jack appeared beside you, in front of the all prying eyes of the ER, he slid his hand around your waist to lean closer towards your temple to give you a soft kiss. All that while he held his sharp gaze with Park.

Whitaker almost choked on his coffee, while Santos whistled loudly.

Robby stopped in his tracks as he was storming out of the emergency room.

“I think there’s no room for negotiation, Park.” Jack was cocky and you couldn’t help but smile.

Brendon was livid. He wanted to scream out loud, his mouth opened and closed, he was speechless.

“I hate you.” He only spat and turned on his heels, stomping out of the Pitt with a humiliating look.

Robby took a few steps towards you, his curious expression scanning you both.

“Well, well, well. A little doctor romance we have here, don’t we?”

You shifted a little, squirming under the judgemental gaze.

“Yeah, sooner or later, you’d find out, so…” Jack shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and you rolled your eyes.

“How long?” Dana beamed in, having her readers falling down her nose.

“Six weeks.” You muttered.

“You owe me dinner, Robby.” She cocked her brow at Robby, while winking at you.

“What? You made a bet on us?” Jack feigned a hurtful gaze, but he was having fun.

Robby shrugged his shoulders with a grin. “You were so fucking obvious from the start. We just wanted to know how long it will take for Park to burst out and you to finally give in and reveal your secret.”

“Motherfuckers…” you blurted quietly, but they heard it and laughed out loud.

Jack shook his leg a little and you looked down with concern. “You good? Is that new thing bothering you?”

“New thing?” Robby was curious again.

“Yeah, my prosthetic was replaced with a new prototype of a bionic one. I’m still getting used to it.” Jack huffed.

“When did that happen?”

“Six weeks ago?” You said more in a question but you knew exactly when.

“Wait— you— you were with him when he— jesus that was quick.” Robby was in disbelief.

You and Jack just shared an affectionate look full of devotion.