#4180 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itwasntimethatdidit40 · 10 days ago

Text

A Quiet Neighborhood - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader Words count: 4180 Rating: + 18, MDNI Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, heels and a bikini, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush, smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, masturbation, use of a sex toy, mention of infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, mention of poker game, some reader's thoughts marked in italics, swearing, Dave is a fucking menace. This takes place right after Chapter 1. A/N: Dave is finally back! First of all thank you so much for the interest you have shown in this series, I didn't expect it and it made me really happy 🥹 I hope you like this chapter, I was planning to release it earlier but I struggled a little bit with my writing. English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistake. No beta, I reread it myself, I really hope it makes sense. I would particularly like to thank @arcanefox207 , @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape for their support, encouragement and kindness. Love you, girls ♥️

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Coming out of the bathroom everything feels too loud, ringing voice of people, music, clanging of glasses, it's all too much to bear with when all you need right now is silence to make up with your overwhelming feelings spinning in your head like a carousel gone wild.

“I need to get out of here” you think, heading toward the Horowitz' living room in brisk steps to retrieve your purse.

Jane stops you in the track "Hey, where were you? We're having margarita, would you like some?"

You see him. behind Jane’s shoulder, through the door to the outside. He's back in the garden to his wife, holding an arm around her waist with a relaxed expression on his face, as if nothing has happened.

"I-uh-"

"Just sip this time, don't throw it down like you did before" Jane looks at you amused "I don't want to hold your hair while you vomit in one of Walkers' fancy bathrooms"

You nervously laugh then you look at him again and it's infuriating, the way he just goes on with his life while you feel like you've been hit by a train.

Fucking worthy of an Oscar.

The temptation to go home takes you for a moment but then looking at him smiling seraphically you think, “Fuck it, I don't see why I should ruin my day for him.”

So you follow Jane into the garden to join the others.

“If he can play it cool I can too” you think ”nothing a nice margarita can't fix.”

You walk past him and see that he and his wife are talking to Edie and her new boyfriend.

He doesn't even look at you, as if you are back a figure in the background with the others.

Which actually makes sense; the opposite would be much stranger since in the eyes of everyone you are nothing more than mere neighbors.

“Dave, look, Carol left lipstick on your lips,” you hear Edie say giggling as you sit at the table with your friends, ”you two lovebirds, you're still so cute after so many years of marriage.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat but you try to maintain composure outside and greeting Susan and Emma that just arrived “fuck” you think, cursing Edie and her big mouth “Now she's going to realize it's not her lipstick, God, I'm so screwed”.

You talked to her before but now in your panic you can't even remember what lipstick she was wearing.

You smile quizzically at Gabby who hands you one of the margaritas a waiter just left at your table but you perk up your ears to catch whatever they're saying; for a moment it's all silent until you hear Carol's crystalline laughter.

You barely turn to observe them out of the corner of your eye as you take a sip of your cocktail and see that Carol is wearing a lipstick very similar to yours. You're not a church girl but right now you're literally praying that one stupid kiss doesn't make you the laughingstock of the neighborhood.

Damn you, Dave.

Carol pulls a tissue out of her purse and hands it to him.

Okay, she’s quiet. Or at least she seems to be.

And who would ever connect me and Dave anyway?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts when you hear Jane call your name “hey! are you still with us?”

You smile “yes, sorry, I was thinking about work, you know that presentation I have to give on Monday” and you squeeze into your shoulders “what were you saying?”

Jane rolls her eyes “ugh, work. I was saying we're meeting tomorrow afternoon at my house for poker, are you coming?”

“Of course I'm coming, and I plan to tear you all apart!”

Jane, Gabby, Susan and Emma all say in chorus “we'll see about that!”You laugh and sip on your margarita again trying to appease your nerves, the liquid slide cool down your throat and you savor the citrusy flavor on your tongue thinking "it's good. it's all good. I will cut that Dave bullshit out of my life and everything will be great"

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, you drink another margarita while chatting with your friends, you grab some snacks from the buffet so you don't risk forcing Jane to hold your hair in the bathroom, and you feel like you have regained some mental stability.

Dave is still here, looking like the perfect picture of a man trying to spend quality time with his beloved wife.

They talk to neighbors, they laugh, she holds a hand in his tracing small concentric circles on his back.

All smooth, I can't believe it, you sigh as you finish your second margarita.

Ms. Horowitz goes between tables to tell you that anyone who wants can take advantage of the pool, all your friends thank her saying they will do so shortly, and you reply, “Oh,I don't have my bathing suit with me,” wondering if anyone has ever told you to bring it. From the way Jane looks at you with an amused expression you guess that yes, she had told you but you completely forgot in your frenzy to look good in front of Dave in your new shoes.

Being in a bathing suit in front of him is not something you could afford to contemplate and you can't do it now either so you try to shy away from her invitation as politely as you can, but Mrs. Horowitz presses you, “that's no problem, dear, we have dozens of bathing suits for our guests!”

“Of course. I forgot that if they wanted to they could swim in a pool full of money like Scrooge McDuck.”

At this point you can do nothing than accept.

Carlos and Rafael managed to disengage under the guise of joining Mr. Horowitz and other neighbors in the living room to watch whatever is going to be on the sports channel. And these are the moments when you wish you were someone who knows about sports.

“You can go to the pool house and change there, you will find swimsuits and towels in the closet,” Mrs. Horowitz chirps.

And so you do, you head for the pool house teetering on your new heels, thinking maybe you shouldn't swim at all because you're feeling a little tipsy.

“God, I really don't feel like it,” you say to Susan who is beside you, and she replies, ”oh come on, it will be fun!”

You already hear some splashing coming from the pool as you enter the little house.

It is luxuriously furnished like a real outhouse, there is a huge bed, a small kitchen, and a door on the right side that leads to a bathroom. Someone could actively live in here like a king.

Susan opens the closet that takes up the entire wall in front of the bed and finds dozens of bikinis and one-piece suits. “Jesus, they could open a swimsuit store with all this stuff.”

You laugh, tapping her on the side “make room” Susan pinches your arm “rude!” she sneers.

Emma, Jane and Gabrielle laugh. You choose a swimsuit as they take turns to change into the bathroom.

____________________________________

You walk out of the pool house wearing a black bikini, holding the towel wrapped around you. You chose the simplest model you could find that wasn't a one-piece swimsuit, because you always thought you looked like your grandmother in those.

You don't want to stand out but neither do you want to feel ridiculous at the idea of Dave seeing you.

You hope he has already gone home until you reach the pool and see him diving off the small diving board located on one of the short sides.

By now it's evening so several strings of small lights have been lit and hung directly above the pool like small fireflies floating in the air and scattered over the buffet and beverage gazebos.

There are also several garden street lamps around, but the small lights create an enchanting atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz really know how to throw a great party.

Dave's back looks golden as you watch him disappear into the water, his muscles outlined by the play of light and shadow that refracts against them. You bury a howl inside as you steal a glance at his butt swaddled deliciously in red swimming shorts.

You sit on a lawn chair, fully intending to stay there, while your friends put their towels down and go for a dip in the pool.

It's still warm for fall, today in particular, so you don't mind the thing itself, but showing yourself to Dave like this? That's a whole other matter.

The whole neighborhood is there but you literally feel like only he can see you, because that's the only look you care about and might feel judged by.

Your friends wave at you from the other side of the pool, even calling your name so you listlessly drop the towel on the deck chair and walk to the edge, wetting your feet in the cool water.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Dave go underwater, you follow his movements, and see him come up right in front of you.

“Fuck” you think

“Hi,” he says in a low voice as you wonder where his wife is. You answer him by mumbling a “hello” as you look around for her. Carol is sitting on a lawn chair, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and matching sarong, and sipping cocktails with one of your neighbors. She is quite distant and seems very engrossed in the conversation, so you finally allow yourself to look at Dave.

He's still in the water, leaning against the edge below you.

He runs a hand through his hair to pull it back, small droplets sliding down his perfectly chiseled jaw to the column of his neck and down his broad chest until they die at the water's edge.

Your friends call your name loudly as he rests both hands on the edge and rises effortlessly beside you. You don't look at him, you keep your gaze fixed on Jane and the others as you hear the sound of water sliding over his body and falling back into the pool, a few drops hitting you in the process. He is beside you, completely wet, wearing only shorts. You’re petrified, trying to govern your emotions and especially your facial expressions “stay calm stay calm stay calm” you repeat to yourself as you hear his voice whisper “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini. I wish I could fuck you right here right now” just before he walks over to the loungers.

He didn't turn around, he didn't make eye contact with you, no one would say he even noticed you, and he spoke so softly that no one could have heard him but you. You heard him loud and clear, and his rough voice went and settled directly between your legs on your wet pussy.

You hastily dive into the pool feeling your cheeks on fire.

“Fucking Dave and his fucking flirting.”

_________________________________________

First thing you do when you come home is to take off your shoes throwing on the carpet in your living room.

By now you are no longer tipsy; swimming in the pool has definitely helped you get sober again.

And Dave.

Dave who ignored you pretty much the rest of the evening but infiltrated your brain like a disease.

You know you can't get your hopes up, you know that this thing between the two of you will have no future, and you also know that you don't like being a home wrecker.

I am just an escape from his marriage, a sleazy adventure, a little toy to entertain him.

And yet, you still want more.

Your body unfortunately doesn't care about morality right now, it reacts to every image of him imprinted in your mind, Dave is Pavlov's bell and you are the drooling dog.

Lingering in fantasies about him hurts, but there is a desperate part of you that still feels his hips grinding against yours, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his big hands on you.

And his body next to yours when he got out of the pool, how you could smell the scent of his skin mixed with chlorine, how you could still feel the warmth of his body despite being completely wet, water dripping down his legs pooling at his feet.

You can stay here a little longer, just a little while longer without hurting anyone, before you turn the page.

You shuffle into your room with your head in the clouds, open your night stand drawer almost without thinking, pull out your dildo and lie on the bed. You loop your dress around your waist without even bothering to take it off, just enough to get rid of your bra and your panties.

You let the dildo glide over your body, shivering at the feel of the cool plastic on your tits, brushing against your nipples.

The low rasp of his voice still in your mind, graveling like an echo in your brain “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini”

It was the first time you saw him like that, you happened to see some exposed skin as he mowed the lawn, even lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead once he was done but what you saw today? Nothing compares with it.

His fully exposed torso, the darting muscles of his back as he dove, how his arms flexed as he leaned over the edge of the pool. There is something obscene about seeing people completely wet, a primal instinct awakening, the water slipping and hugging the curves of his body, the droplets of water glistening on his skin, the wet shorts glued to his body that barely suggested the shape of him.

You shut your eyes and suddenly it’s his cock wiping on your hardened buds, tip slapping and teasing, brushing on your skin just right, red and swollen and already leaking.

You can think it’s real, it feels so real, his hand roaming on your body, pulling your dress up, get it out of the way to dispose of you as he wants.

Big strong hand gripping on your inner thighs, his fingers rising higher on your skin, making you whimper in anticipation.

Your cunt aching tremendously, unrestrained and starving.

His big cock grazing your swollen labia, parting them and then sliding entirely over your center, his tip slamming against your clit, mingling your essences in an overwhelming arousal that runs through you all.

And then he pushes inside, deeper and deeper in the most intimate part of you.

And that’s it.

You are fucking away all your bad omens, lying to your hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, your heart pounding behind your ribcage, your hips swaying against the rubber dildo, pushing them away to suppress them. All frenzy and delirium as it is his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your walls, pulsing and dripping inside you.

You can’t stop, angling the dildo so that it brushes against your swollen clit pumping incessantly into your core, creaming the entire length of your dildo, your legs obscenely spread, your body torn apart by every thrust, your hungry pussy sucking in, contracting, devouring every inch without finding peace.

"I wish I could fuck you right here right now"

Your free hand rises on your tit, your fingers latched on your pebbled nipple, pulling and twisting until you feel your brain leaking from your pussy.

Your orgasm breaks inside you, vibrating in and out of your body, quivering on your sweaty skin, taking your breath away. You come thinking of him completely wet from head to toe on top of you, your flesh colliding, your bodies merging, in a desperate, relentless rush toward the brink.

And you can't get enough, so you don't stop as the first orgasm washes over you, your swollen, slippery cunt keeps frantically gripping around the dildo, your hands keep thrusting it in, torturing your nipples, it's like you're trying to quench your thirst once and for all.

The way he ignored you afterward makes you want to have him even more, to break through his stoicism and trigger an outburst in him as much as your own.

It's twisted, wrong, immoral and you don't care a bit.

You fall into a deep sleep, having come repeatedly, Dave being all that's left in your head.

______________________________________

Morning light flutters on your eyelids forcing you to open your eyes to another day.

You grunt, feeling your incredibly aching pussy, and realize your dildo is still inside you.

The stretch is here to remind you your guilt, the frenzy that took you last night, the feeling of being just one inch away from slipping into something dangerous.

You pull it out cautiously, feeling your essence slip out of you, soaking your inner thigh, the sticky mess of your desire for him dribbling silently over your skin.

Your pussy tightens around nothing, pulsing to the void, deprived of something, swollen and tried.

The dress from the night before is still crumpled around your body, crumpled and damp with your sweat and arousal at the hem. You get out of bed feeling like a rag doll, drag yourself into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Mascara has run down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged, an exhausted and defeated expression on your face.

You look like a total disaster, matching your feelings.

This morning, in the sunlight, you are furious with yourself. Why did you let this married man condition you so much? You spent $350 on a pair of shoes just because he told you they'd fit you, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to stop before it takes a turn for the worse and you find yourself crying for him.

There's no way it will end well.

You take off your makeup, take a shower, and change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Pearl Jam T-shirt you got at a concert a million years ago.

You clean and tidy your house, then Jane calls to have your confirmation to meet at 3 p.m. at her house.

Having a fun afternoon with your friend will help, you think.

You don't look out the window toward his house even once, you simply pretend it doesn't exist.

After changing into a pair of jeans and a white top, you head towards Jane’s house at the end of the road, your eyes straight to her house without your usual wandering and sneaking through your neighbor’s windows.

You are able to shut down your brain concentrating on poker and your friend and it all goes smooth until you hear Susan say, “Did Edie call you to gossip about the Yorks?” And you all turn to look at her, you with your heart leaping in your chest like an acrobat.

“Really? Was it only me who had this pleasure?” she says, rolling her eyes.

��Why, what happened?” Jane asks as she shuffles the cards for the next hand.

“According to her, Dave has an affair. But you know how Edie is, I mean-”

"And how can she say that?" Gabby widen her eyes, getting all excited. You love her dearly but she’s almost as gossipy as Edie sometimes.

"She says Dave disappeared at the party and then came back with some lipstick on his mouth."

“What?” you all exclaim, as you try with all your might to feign surprise.

“Yes, and then she says Carol pretended nothing happened but according to Edie there is something going on because you know - she says that lipstick seemed slightly different from the one his wife was wearing”

“Well that also depends on lips natural color,” Jane tries to intervene, usually she's the one who instead tries to quell the rumors. You are thankful that she maintains her attitude even now, all while your other friends cut her off squeaking “oh my God!” And Gabby, who sits right next to you put a hand on your arm “Jesus, can you believe that?”

“Actually no” you shrug “I mean…they seem so close-hearted”

“Well, honey, I'm sorry to tell you but not all that glitters is gold” Gabby scoffs.

“Even if it was true - and with Edie I wouldn't put my hand on it because she was really tipsy and then well...she's Edie” Jane admonishes “it's none of our business”

“God, he would be such a scam though. And to think I kinda considered him incorruptible” Emma sighs and you all nod.

You never mentioned your crush, not even to the friends.

No one ever saw you two talk for more than a few minutes and only of mundane arguments, totally out of courtesy and being good neighbors.

Fuck. It has to end before anyone finds out.

The bullet missed you by a whisker but you know you can't play with fire.

“Then you wonder why I haven't found another boyfriend yet!” You playfully snap, just to look more unsuspicious.

You hate lying to your friends, but you are relieved when you see them nodding.

Jane urges, “Come on let's play, we've talked enough about this.”

The afternoon flows nicely, Jane and Gabi argue over points as usual, you all laugh, and by the end you feel better, really better.

Yesterday was crazy, but I can get through it, you think.

When you get home you order a pizza and eat it on the couch watching a horror movie. You don't think about him for the rest of the evening, until you get under the covers and a flashback of him pushing you against the bathroom tiles flashes before your eyes. You squeeze them hard, trying to banish the image from your mind.

________________________________________

Monday morning at the office hits you in the face, you have a lot of work to do but you've never been so happy to keep busy so you don’t complain. Anything goes as long as you don't think about him.

Your agency has just acquired a big client for whom you'll have to manage a marketing campaign, there's a lot of pressure but by the end of the morning you feel like you and the rest of the team have come up with the right idea, which makes you relieved.

At lunchtime you go out to get a sandwich. It's a beautiful sunny day, there’s a little wind that caresses your face and moves the tree canopies along the road. You're glad you've been able to focus, you really care about doing a good job and making a good impression on your demanding boss in light of a promotion you'd like to get.

You will slowly return to your usual life and what happened will remain a sporadic episode without consequences. That's the best thing for everyone.

You walk into the diner and get in line to order a sandwich.

You greet Sarah, the girl at the counter, with whom you've been chatting since the first day you were hired at your agency.

You order the usual and come out humming and feeling some lightness at last.

You walk the short distance to your office, and the moment you push the door open you feel a gaze on you, like in déjà vu. You turn to look at the street, and see no one, just a black car that takes off quickly, speeding down the empty road. For a moment it looks like Dave's. You blink your eyes and shake your head, feeling lost.

It's like you've taken one step forward and three steps back.

It will take much longer to eradicate him from your mind, and living in the same neighborhood across the street from each other certainly won't help.

You come home tired, you managed to do a good job despite the thought of Dave that kept pounding in your head all afternoon, at least you can be satisfied with that.

You park in your driveway and out of the corner of your eye you see Carol loading suitcases into a cab.

Shit, what's going on? Was Edie right? Did they really have a fight? Is she leaving him?

You start toward your door but then stay on the porch pretending to rummage through your purse for your keys.

You see Dave leave the house with his daughters, he helps Carol with the heaviest suitcase and they briefly say something you can’t hear. You hold your breath for a signal, something that will let you know what they’re doing, but it all seems neutral, calm, no drama, no screaming fight in the middle of the street. Typical of them, you think, they would never do that in front of their daughters anyway.

Molly and Alice hug their father and happily get into the taxi, sitting in the back, Alice holding a doll which she places next to her on the seat.

Carol kisses Dave on the cheek and climbs into the cab with the girls. As you watch them leave your mind is filled with question marks, it didn't seem like a traumatic departure but you know they are the best at keeping up appearances. And deep down, what do you really know about Carol and Dave? What really happens when the doors are closed and they are far from the rest of the world? Are they really the perfect family they pretend to be?

Dave is on the sidewalk waving to the cab pulling away, as soon as it's far enough away he turns to look at you and winks.

Series tag list:

@penascigarette @syd-djarin @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape @joelalorian @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @cas-readsandwrites @sunnytuliptime @foreveratlantica-blog @peppermintfury @drewharrisonwriter @indiegirlunited @darkheartgatita @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @rosebuds-and-moonlight

If you want to be added or removed, just let me know, thank you so much for reading ♥️

#pedro pascal #dave york fanfiction #dave york x f!reader #dave york fic #dave york x female reader #dave york #dave york smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #ppcu fics

84 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 3 months ago

Text

✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 4✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 4180

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Jack watched you for a moment, the weight of the evening still hanging heavy in the air. His offer came naturally, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. “Wanna sleep? You can have my bed if you want”.

You hesitated, the thought of taking his bed making you feel slightly uncomfortable. It wasn’t because of Jack, but rather the intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability of the situation you found yourself in. The idea of sleeping in his room felt too personal, too exposed, but the thought of being alone in his apartment—or worse, back in your own—was far more unsettling.

Looking up at Jack, you noticed the genuine concern in his eyes, the protective instinct that had already come to your rescue once tonight. You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond at first. The warmth of the blanket he had given you felt comforting, and the idea of being close to him made you feel safe.

“Would it be okay if I just stayed here?”, you asked softly, your voice shy. “On the couch… with you?”.

For a moment, Jack looked taken aback by the request. His rough exterior didn’t often allow for moments like this—quiet, tender moments where the lines between protection and care blurred. But he understood what you were asking. It wasn’t just about where you would sleep; it was about feeling safe, about not wanting to be alone after what had just happened.

Jack gave a small nod, his eyes softening further. "Sure”, he said, his voice low. “You can stay right here with me”.

There was no hesitation in his tone, just quiet reassurance. Jack reached over to grab another blanket from the nearby chair and draped it over you, making sure you were comfortable.

Then Jack settled himself on the far edge of the couch, careful to give you as much space as possible. He could feel the tension still lingering in the room—yours, his—and he didn’t want to push it. His hand absentmindedly ran through his hair again, a nervous habit that had come out more than once tonight. He leaned back, trying to relax, but the protective instinct within him kept him alert.

The quiet between you wasn’t uncomfortable, though. In fact, it was comforting—like the calm after a storm. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, and though Jack kept his distance, his presence alone made you feel safe.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Jack’s eyes flicked toward the door now and then, making sure there were no signs of your ex returning. His muscles were still tense, ready to jump into action if anything happened. But the longer the night stretched on, the more the stillness of his apartment soothed both of you.

After some time, you broke the silence, your voice soft, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Jack. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen”.

Jack shook his head, his voice equally quiet but firm. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t drag me into anything. You shouldn’t have to deal with that on your own”.

You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his for a moment, then sniffed quietly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, despite your best efforts to hold them back. You almost never cried, but tonight, everything was too overwhelming—the fear, the relief, the weight of the past, and the kindness Jack had shown you. It was all crashing down on you at once.

Jack noticed the change in your breathing, the way you were holding back your tears. He sighed softly, feeling the tension between the need to comfort you and the hesitation that came with crossing a line he wasn’t sure should be crossed.

Without saying a word, Jack shifted closer to you, moving slowly, cautiously. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering before he made the decision. Gently, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side. The gesture was awkward at first, like he wasn’t sure if you’d welcome it, but then you leaned into him, accepting the comfort he was offering.

Once you settled against him, the floodgates opened. The tears came quietly at first, just a few, but the more you relaxed into Jack’s embrace, the harder it became to hold them back. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence, and let the tears fall.

Jack held you a little tighter, his grip still gentle but firm, his large hand rubbing your arm in slow, soothing circles. He didn’t say anything, just let you cry, knowing that words wouldn’t help right now. His quiet strength was enough.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to be strong for anyone. You didn’t have to hold it all together. Jack wasn’t judging you, wasn’t asking for anything in return—he was just there, a steady presence that made you feel safe in your vulnerability.

After a while, your sobs quieted, the emotional storm beginning to pass. You felt lighter, though your body was exhausted from everything. You pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, embarrassed by your outburst but grateful for Jack’s understanding.

“Sorry”, you whispered again, your voice shaky. “I don’t usually… I don’t cry like that”.

Jack gave you a small, reassuring smile. “None of that. It’s okay”.

You nodded, still a little unsure of how to process everything. The exhaustion was starting to hit harder now, your body craving rest after the emotional toll of the night.

Jack, sensing your fatigue, kept his arm around you but shifted slightly to help you get more comfortable. “Try to get some sleep”, he said gently. “I’m not going anywhere”.

You nodded again, feeling the exhaustion pulling you under.

Jack’s hand continued to move gently along your bare arm, his touch steady and soothing. The rhythm of his fingers brushing against your skin helped to calm your racing thoughts, lulling you further into a state of relaxation. The exhaustion was slowly winning, and your body began to feel heavy, but there was something comforting about Jack’s presence—about his quiet, unspoken care.

After a long moment, you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible in the quiet room. “Your hands… they’re so rough”.

Jack’s movements paused for a split second, as if caught off guard by your comment. He glanced down at his hand, the one tracing slow circles on your arm, and then back to you. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though there was a hint of self-consciousness in his eyes.

“Yeah”, he muttered, his voice low. “Comes with the territory, I guess. Working with my hands all these years”.

“Keep going… please”, you whispered, your voice even softer now as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. You nudged Jack’s hand gently with your shoulder, a small but meaningful gesture, letting him know that his touch brought comfort in a way you hadn’t expected.

Jack hesitated for a moment, his rough hand still resting on your arm. He hadn’t expected you to ask for more, and for a second, he wasn’t sure if continuing would cross a line. But then he looked down at you, your eyes half-closed, your body relaxed against his. It wasn’t about anything more than offering you the solace you clearly needed, and that was something he could give.

His hand began moving again, this time with more intent, the slow circles and gentle strokes staying in rhythm, grounding you as you lay there. The silence between you wasn’t heavy; instead, it was full of quiet understanding. .

You exhaled deeply, your body completely relaxing under his touch. It wasn’t just the physical comfort—it was the feeling of not being alone, of having someone care enough to stay with you when you needed it the most.

“Thanks, Jack”, you murmured, barely audible now as your exhaustion took over fully.

Jack gave a small nod, even though you couldn’t see it. “You’re welcome”, he replied quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. He continued the comforting motion of his hand until he felt your breathing even out, signaling that you had finally drifted off to sleep.

Jack stayed there, not moving, not wanting to disturb the peace you had found. As the night deepened, he kept watch over you, knowing that for tonight, at least, you could rest safely.

As the night wore on, Jack sat still, his gaze drifting between you and the quiet surroundings of his apartment. The soft rise and fall of your breathing was the only sound breaking the stillness. He kept his hand on your arm, not moving, simply letting you sleep, aware of how much trust you had placed in him tonight.

The weight of the evening still lingered in his mind—the fear in your eyes when he found you, the relief that had come when he’d stepped in. Jack didn’t often find himself in situations like this, but something about you had stirred his protective instincts in a way that surprised him. He didn’t usually let people in, and he certainly hadn’t planned to find himself sitting here, offering comfort in the middle of the night to someone who, not long ago, had been little more than a distant neighbor.

But things had shifted. He could feel it.

Glancing down at you, Jack noticed how peaceful you looked now, your face relaxed in sleep. It was a stark contrast to the tension you had carried earlier, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to relax a little too. Knowing that you felt safe enough to fall asleep beside him made something settle deep inside of him. It felt right, even if it was unexpected.

Jack leaned back against the couch, his own exhaustion starting to creep in. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring—whether your ex would come back, whether you’d still feel comfortable with him after everything that had happened—but for now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that you were safe, here in his apartment, resting peacefully after a night filled with too much chaos.

With a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes for a moment, deciding he would stay awake a little longer just to make sure you stayed undisturbed.

The next morning, Jack woke up slowly, blinking against the soft light filtering through the curtains. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and why there was a weight resting against him. His back was spread out across the couch, and as his senses came back, he realized that at some point during the night, you had shifted. Now, you were lying completely on top of him, your head resting on his chest, one arm draped across him, your legs tangled with his.

Jack’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment, he froze, unsure of how to process the situation. He hadn’t planned to fall asleep, let alone end up in such an intimate position with you. But despite the surprise of it, he felt strangely at peace.

You were still fast asleep, your breaths soft and steady against him.

However, as he adjusted his position slightly to get more comfortable, he became aware of an involuntary physical response—morning arousal. His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and concern as he felt the unmistakable pressure.

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused. Jack’s mind raced, trying to figure out how to handle the situation without disturbing you. He carefully shifted once more to adjust his body slightly, attempting to minimize any accidental contact, and then focused on keeping his movements slow and controlled.

But as he did, you shifted slightly in your sleep. The movement brought you even closer, and you inadvertently pressed against him more firmly. The situation became even more delicate as you slowly began to wake, blinking your eyes open.

For a brief moment, you seemed disoriented, and the close proximity between you and Jack was evident. You stirred against him, your face brushing against his chest, and Jack could feel your warm breath on his skin.

Jack’s heart raced as he tried to remain as still as possible, hoping that your groggy state would prevent you from fully realizing the awkwardness of the situation. He continued to hold you gently, his mind racing.

You finally opened your eyes fully, taking in the sight of Jack’s chest and the realization of how close you were. Confusion flickered across your face as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night and your current position.

As you became more aware of your surroundings, the reality of the situation slowly started to dawn on you. The warmth and closeness you were experiencing suddenly felt different, and you realized the intimate nature of your position against Jack. You could feel the pressure of his erection against you, and it added a new layer of complexity to the already charged moment.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, and you quickly tried to shift away, but Jack’s arm was still around you, and you found yourself tangled in the blanket and his embrace. You glanced up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of confusion and mortification.

Jack’s face reddened as well, and he immediately became aware of how the situation must look and feel. He tried to give you some space, carefully pulling his arm away, and spoke softly, his voice tinged with awkwardness but also concern.

“Sorry about that”, he said, his tone gentle and apologetic. “I didn’t mean for things to get… this close”.

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. “It’s okay. I just… didn’t realize”.

Jack took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “Let’s get you sorted out. Do you want some coffee or anything? I’ll make us something”.

You nodded again, grateful for the change in focus and the chance to distance yourself from the situation. As Jack got up and moved to the kitchen, you took a moment to collect yourself, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude for his kindness and awkwardness over the intimate encounter.

Jack moved quickly toward the kitchen, adjusting himself discreetly as he reached for the coffee machine. His movements were stiff, not just from the night on the couch but from the lingering awkwardness of the situation. You could see the tiredness etched in his face—the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged just a little. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, that was clear.

You bit your lip, your eyes trailing after him as he worked, watching the way his muscles moved under his shirt with every subtle motion. Despite everything that had happened, there was something captivating about him—his quiet strength, the way he handled things without making you feel judged or uncomfortable. He seemed to carry the weight of his own burdens, but last night, he had taken on yours too.

You leaned back against the couch, pulling the blanket around you tighter as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your mind replayed the events of the night before—the fear, the relief of Jack’s presence, and now this strange new layer of intimacy that had emerged between you two.

Jack grabbed two mugs from the cabinet, filling them both with fresh coffee before turning back toward you. He caught you watching him, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—a recognition of the closeness you had shared, the line you had both walked without meaning to.

He handed you a mug, his fingers brushing yours briefly before he sat down beside you on the couch with his own cup. He let out a deep yawn, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned back, clearly exhausted. The weight of the long night, the emotional tension, and the lack of sleep were all catching up to him.

“Rough night, huh?”, you said softly, taking a sip of the coffee and feeling the warmth spread through you. You glanced at Jack, your eyes lingering on the lines of weariness etched into his face. He looked like someone who had taken on more than he should, yet still refused to let anyone else carry the weight.

Jack chuckled, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Yeah, you could say that”. He took a long drink from his mug, savoring the coffee as if it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely. “Not exactly how I expected to spend the night”.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of guilt and gratitude swell inside you. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen”, you said quietly, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “You didn’t have to… stay with me. But I’m really glad you did”.

Jack looked at you, his expression softening. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone. You needed someone, and I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay”.

There was something so genuine in his words, and it struck you just how deeply he cared—even if he tried to hide it behind his tough exterior. Jack wasn’t the type to make grand gestures or express his feelings openly, but his actions spoke louder than anything else.

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Well, thank you. For everything”.

Jack gave a small nod, his tired eyes meeting yours. “Anytime”.

The quiet stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it was a moment of understanding, where the two of you seemed to acknowledge the shift in your relationship without needing to say anything out loud. There was no rush to define it, no pressure to figure out what came next. It just was.

After a few minutes, Jack stretched his legs out in front of him and yawned again, this time not bothering to cover it up. “I think I’m going to need about a gallon of coffee to get through the day”, he said with a smirk.

You chuckled, the sound light and easy. “You and me both”.

After finishing your coffee, you stood up and stretched, feeling the stiffness from the night slowly easing from your muscles. The stretch caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a hint of your midriff. Jack, who had been nursing his coffee and trying to shake off the last of his fatigue, couldn’t help but glance up.

His eyes caught the brief glimpse of skin before he quickly looked away, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. He took a long sip from his mug, trying to focus on anything other than the sight he had just seen.

“I guess I’ll go back to my apartment”, you mumbled softly and glanced at Jack, who was already standing up, setting his mug down before walking toward you.

He offered a quiet nod, and without a word, he followed you to the door, his footsteps heavy with the same unspoken understanding that had been hanging between you since morning. Jack opened the door for you, his presence still grounding, but there was a slight tension in the air—an uncertainty about where this connection would lead.

As you stood at the threshold, you hesitated, looking up at him for a moment. Jack’s tired eyes softened when they met yours, and you could feel the gratitude welling up in your chest. He had been there for you without question, and while you knew the situation had changed things between you both, it felt too soon to know exactly how.

In a moment of impulse, you leaned up slowly, your heart pounding softly in your chest as you pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek. Jack stilled, his breath catching slightly at the unexpected touch. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, but something tender and filled with quiet thanks.

“Thank you, Jack”, you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper as you pulled away, stepping back and keeping your gaze lowered, feeling the warmth of the small moment between you two.

Jack didn’t respond right away. There was a weight to his hesitation, something unspoken, as if Jack was carefully choosing what to say next. His eyes shifted slightly, glancing away for a moment before he took a breath and met your gaze again.

“Well, maybe you can thank me with a beer sometime”, he mumbled, his voice quiet but laced with a hint of something more. He scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure of himself in this unfamiliar territory. “You know, if you want to. We could, uh… go out, grab a drink. Nothing serious”.

His words hung in the air, both casual and loaded with more meaning than either of you expected. Jack’s heart raced slightly, wondering if he had crossed a line, but he kept his expression neutral, not wanting to make the situation more awkward.

You blinked, a little surprised by the offer, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. The thought of going out with Jack—outside of the circumstances that had brought you so close—was unexpected, but it felt right. There was something comforting about the idea of getting to know him better, outside of the context of the night before.

“Yeah”, you said softly, nodding. “I’d like that. A beer sounds good”.

Jack seemed to relax at your response, a small grin replacing the uncertainty that had been lingering in his eyes. “Alright then. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know”.

You smiled back, feeling a strange mix of relief and excitement. The heaviness of the night was still there, but the thought of spending more time with Jack—outside of the intensity of last night—made everything seem lighter.

“I will”, you replied, giving him one last glance before turning to head back to your apartment.

As you walked away, the door clicking softly behind you, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things were about to shift in a way neither of you had expected.

Jack stood at the door, his mind racing. He took a deep breath, leaning against the doorframe, trying to collect his thoughts. He had spent the entire night and morning fighting against the pull he felt toward you, trying to convince himself it was just the circumstances—your vulnerability, his protective instincts—but it was more than that. And after waking up with you so close, your body against his, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

There was an undeniable attraction between you, one that had been simmering beneath the surface since the night at the bar. Jack had tried to push it away, telling himself you were too young, that it wasn’t right. But this morning had changed things. The intimacy of the moment had shattered whatever distance he had been trying to maintain. He knew he had crossed a line by asking you out, and yet, part of him couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Jack rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the weight of the decision he had just made. He had told himself that he would keep things simple, stay distant, but now that door had been cracked open. And once that door was open, there was no going back.

The age difference between you two wasn’t insignificant, and he had spent enough time thinking about the complications it could bring. But there was something about you—something real and raw—that made him feel like it might be worth taking the risk.

He sighed heavily, closing the door and walking back toward the kitchen. As he poured himself another cup of coffee, he thought about the conversation you’d just had, the way your eyes softened when you smiled at him. There was a chance here, and he didn’t know where it would lead, but for the first time in a long time, Jack felt like it might be worth exploring.

His mind drifted back to how it felt waking up with you in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, and the way your kiss on his cheek had lingered longer than it should have. He had tried to be the strong, stoic protector, but deep down, there was more to it—something he couldn’t deny anymore.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @cheynovak @ookidoki @deans-spinster-witch @n-o-p-e-never @riah1606 @stoneyggirl2 @saintnourah @ladysparkles78 @isla-finke-blog @ladysparkles78

#jensen ackles #jack durfy x y/n #jack durfy x reader #jack durfy x you #jack durfy #buddy games

90 notes · View notes