#schlossberger

[murdrdocs]

thinking about taking care of jack after a LOOONNGGG day. hes spent hours networking, chatting up crowds etc and all he wants to do is come home to his (controversially younger!) girlfriend and let her jerk him off as she asks about his day

disclaimer: this is a piece of fictional work. although based on real people, the characters—and circumstances—presented are entirely fictional and should be treated as such.

slight power dynamics; handjobs; pet names (honey and baby); clothed sex; MDNI 18+ w/ JACK SCHLOSSBERG

you've always thought that jack looked pretty when he was all dolled up. when his hair was swept off of his clean-shaven face and his slim body perfectly filled up a suit that was tailored just for him. when he unlocked a part of himself that you rarely see, even though it's such a big part of who he is. jack's always pretty to you, even if he glares in the mirror and turns his head this way and that before an event, nonverbally expressing how jarring it still is to see himself like the ones who came before him.

you'll tell him he looks good—whether that be via the words coming out of your mouth, or a restrained kiss that worked to transfer as little makeup as possible. maybe a gentle press of your fingers into his shoulders, or wrapping your arm around his back. either way, it was always honest.

but you truthfully prefer jack when he's like this—leaning back against the bathroom counter, his hair fallen out of the swept back wave, curls visible thanks to the late-summer humidity as well as the heat swirling in the bathroom from the previously running shower. you'd shut it off once jack breathlessly complained about wasting water.

he was right, but you still appeared a little upset about having to stop your task to reach a hand into the water and turn the dial off. you were back on jack within the minute, though.

your hand wrapped around his cock, while you stared up at him attentively, smiling and nodding as if you weren't languidly jerking him off and you both were just having a regular conversation. he's keeping up well, only faltering every so often, usually whenever you twist your hand around his tip every few strokes.

but he recovers quickly, clearing his throat and blinking a few times before picking up where he left off.

"then i had the meeting with my editors after lunch..." he continues detailing the events of his day, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, only drifting off to the side whenever he has to think about something.

you could've undressed him completely, you probably should have, but you like how he looks like this. his pants unbuttoned and shoved down just enough for you to reach into his briefs and tug his dick free. his white shirt—no longer as crisp as it was this morning when you kissed him goodbye—unbuttoned to give way to the thin undershirt he wears. it's been lifted up now by your irreverent hands, sitting towards the top half of his midriff. you have a perfect view of the hair leading down towards his cock, along with his abdomen which tenses and relaxes periodically.

"uh-huh," you nod, glancing down for just a second before bringing your attention right back up.

you're the one getting him off, but his gaze still makes you feel a little hot. the intensity in his dark eyes which are framed by shadows of long lashes. the prominent furrow of his brows when he hesitates, paired with the flicker of his tongue over his lips.

he's so pretty. you don't think you'll ever get tired of looking at him.

"i got a drink from that place we wanted to try." this snaps you out of your daze.

"what? without me?"

jack smiles a bit and your attention is briefly brought to the grooves along the side of his mouth. he speaks through a grin. "sorry, it was on the way!"

"you're a traitor."

"if it makes you feel any better the drink was really—" his words taper off into a moan. it's satisfying to see his eyes screw shut, his mouth falling open.

you would wait for him to continue, to either confirm your suspicions and tell you that the overpriced drink was the best thing he's ever had, or that it wasn't worth his money, but you can tell he's lost his train of thought.

one of his hands lift off of the counter and flail uselessly in the air for a second before it finds you, wrapping around your forearm and then drifting to gently cup your elbow.

"close. 'm close."

as if you needed him to tell you. you can tell, it's written all over him; from the way the center of his eyebrows reach for his hairline, to the way you can feel his dick throbbing in your hand.

the audible slick! gets louder as you increase your pace just enough, determination driving your movements. you keep going, trying to push him closer and closer, waiting for him to tell you what he wants.

his lips hang open, not a single word coming from them, and then he speaks. "talk to me. c'mon, honey. help me out."

you're quick with it. "you're so pretty, baby. i love it when you let me do this. i can feel you, y'know? can feel how bad you wanna come. go ahead. please? for me?"

it gets him every time.

he curves away from you at first, his head falling back, resting between his shoulder blades as the initial spurts of cum shoot out onto your hand. and then he slumps forward, large frame swaying in the air until you catch him. you stumble from the weight, but you're struck still by a long arm winding around your waist, keeping you right there as jack comes into your hand and a little onto your belly.

[oceancentury]

John ‘Jack’ Bouvier Kennedy Schlossberg (only grandson of John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Bouvier) is Vogues new political correspondent.

[jhopezwrld]

summers in the air, heavens in your eyes

pairing: jack schlossberg x reader

summary: sex on the beach with your boyfriend jack

wc: 1.3k

warnings: smut!!! oral (f receiving), swearing, p in v sex, kinda public sex (pls do not have sex in public or on the beach u will get sand in ur vajayjay), terrible ending

a/n: WELL... listen i've been in love with jack schlossberg since like 2016 and everyone is finally realizing he's hot as fuck so here we are and i have no regrets. enjoy sinners <3

minors do not interract plz! xoxo

the air was thick and warm, the humidity making your hair stick to the back of your neck. your boyfriend jack lay beside you on his back. his eyes are shut as he basks in the sunlight. there are streaks of white on his cheeks from the sunscreen you slathered on him before he ran out to the ocean, eager to surf. a headband you lent him pushed his dark hair back, and his soft skin was now slightly darker than when you arrived that morning. 

“i can feel you staring at me, y’know.” 

he says, reaching a hand over to pinch your soft thigh. you giggle and playfully smack his arm. “didn’t realize it was weird to stare at my boyfriend.” you retort. he cracks his eyes open and turns his head to look at you. he smiles softly and opens his arms, beckoning you to sit on top of him. you comply, moving so you’re now straddling him. his large hands find home on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the skin there. 

“hi, pretty girl.” he moves a hand to cup your cheek and tugs you down to kiss him. your mouths meet gently, moving in tandem. his tongue prods at the seam of your lips and you open them for him. he explores the inside of your mouth, groaning at your taste. “tastes like strawberry.” he mumbles between kisses.

the hand lying stagnant on your hip moves to the tie holding your bikini bottoms together, twirling the strands between his fingers. you pull away and his head chases you, silently asking for more. “jack, we’re technically in public, anyone could see us like this…” you tell him and he rolls his eyes. jack sits up and you shift down on his lap. he brings his mouth to the shell of your ear, licking it before whispering to you “seems pretty empty to me, baby.”

you look around, doing a sweep of the area to make sure it is truly empty. the beach was mostly private, a secluded location in front of the beach house that jack had rented for the weekend for the both of you. there was no one as far as your eyes could see. technically, you were on private property. if anyone saw you two together, it was practically trespassing. throwing all of your worries away, you lean back into him, connecting your mouths once more. 

he smiles into the kiss, pulling you as close to him as possible. his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you directly on top of his arousal. you groan at the feeling and grind your hips further into him. before you can protest, he flips the both of you, lying you on your back. he moves his mouth to your neck, lathering hot and wet kisses and leaving purple blemishes in his wake. he shifts down slightly, pressing kisses into your collarbones and between the valley of your breasts. 

his hands again reach for your bottoms, and jack looks up at you for permission. as soon as you nod, he slides them down your hips and slips them off, throwing them onto your towel. his hand slides up the length of your thigh, stopping at the innermost part. he hums and leans down, pressing a kiss to your pubic bone. “so pretty down here, honey.” he mutters to himself. 

with that, he devours you. his tongue snakes out to caress your clit. one hand holds your hips steady, while the other slithers down to your slit, slipping his middle finger inside of you. the pleasure you feel is burning hot, a fire that begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. a strangled cry wrings its way from your lips as jack adds a second finger. his fingers move earnestly, knowing exactly what you like and how to drag you to your peak. 

“please, jack. it’s so good. i’m so close” you whine, pushing your hips into his warm mouth. he doubles his efforts at that, sucking your clit into his mouth and quickening his fingers. you bring a hand down to his soft hair, pushing his headband off. his dark locks fall into his eyes, but you’re quick to hold them back yourself. he moans into you as you tug at the strands. 

“c’mon, sweet girl. cum for me, lemme taste it.” 

and you do. your orgasm rips through you almost violently. your hips twitch and your moans are unrestrained. his mouth relaxes and instead presses soft kisses against you as you float back to earth. he travels up the length of your body until he reaches your face, kissing your temple, cheek, and the corner of your mouth before kissing your lips. you could taste yourself on his tongue. 

his hips press into you, grinding into your naked body. he brings a hand down to quickly pull off his bottoms, jerking himself off quickly before spreading your legs. aligning himself with your hole, he pushes into you slowly, allowing you time to get used to his impressive girth. it was no secret that jack was extremely well-endowed, and no matter how many times you had sex with him, it was always an adjustment in the beginning. 

he eases into you slowly until his pubic bone is flush with your ass. he pulls back steadily, rocking back into you with restraint. “s’good, baby?” he asks. his accent is thick and his words are slurred slightly as he loses himself in pleasure. you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “it’s so good, you’re so big.”

jack speeds up his movements, slamming into you. his breathy moans invade your ears and you can feel him twitching inside of you. he pulls out of you and taps your thigh, signaling you to change positions. he lays on his back as you throw your thighs over his hips, pushing yourself down onto him again. 

he throws his head back, gripping your hips with a bruising force. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d tell him to ease up so as not to leave finger-shaped bruises in your skin that could be so easily spotted. but the only thing that was on your mind was bringing the both of you to your orgasms, so you got to work. planting your feet, you begin to bounce on him. he thrusts his hips in time with your movements, pushing into the soft spot hidden inside of your walls. 

“god, baby. you’re so good at this. just made for me, huh? perfect little pussy that only i get to fuck.” 

you clench your thighs around his waist as you feel your climax approaching. “yeah, i’m made for you, jack. m’your girl forever.” you gasp. as if he can sense how close you are, he brings a hand up to your clit, rubbing it in quick and tight circles. he pounds his hips furiously in time with your movements. you feel him spasm inside of you, warm spurts of his spend painting your walls. that brings you to your second orgasm, convulsing above him. 

you collapse onto his chest, attempting to catch your breath. he wraps a weak arm around you, breathing heavily into your ear. the two of you come down in silence. as your breathing evens out, he presses a loving kiss on the crown of your head. “you ok, baby?” he whispers into your neck. “tired” you mumble, nestling farther into him. he tightens his hold on you before shifting to sit up, still inside of you. 

“let’s get you inside, sleepy head. we can take a nap together.” 

he lifts you off of him, and you whine at the sudden emptiness you feel. he pulls up his swim trunks and stands, grabbing your towel and wrapping you in it, guiding you back into the house to lay down and enjoy the rest of your peaceful evening together.

[newwavesylviaplath]

jack schlossberg for vogue (2024)

[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[politicalchange]

you being jack’s scandal.

jack had been married, but his marriage was in shambles. ever since he started running as a presidential candidate up until the moment he became president. he had no one to go to for support, his wife distanced herself, taking their daughter alone and letting jack go through things by himself. then he met you.

he told you about his problems, talked on the phone, took you for late night walks in the white house garden, it was all so nice. it started off as something small, you both met at a bar, jack resorting to the strongest liquor as a way to cope with the stress of his wife potentially leaving, and you being the most sober person in the bar, making sure he makes it out alive. his wife never left him though. and she still doesn’t know what’s happening between the two of you.

anyway that’s how you ended up a month later, late night in the oval office, jacks button up white shirt sliding off your shoulder while you bounced on his cock in his president’s chair. jack continued to unbutton his shirt that was clad around your body and began to suck on your tits, leaving you in pleasure as you threw your head back.

“get up.” you quickly obeyed and stood on your feet, jack turned you around and bent you over his desk, quickly shoving his cock back into you and thrusting hard, his strong hands grabbed your waist and one hand was used to smack your ass, leaving a mark.

“you love being bent over my desk like a dirty fucking slut don’t you.” you whimpered and nodded, but jack gripped onto your hair and brung your back to meet his chest, you squealed loudly as he continued thrusting. “say it. say you like being a dirty slut. my dirty slut.”

you gasped as he gripped your throat. “i love being your dirty slut.” you cried and he had the audacity to laugh and force your head back onto his desk. he grunted as he gave you a few more hard thrusts, until he pulled out and you cried out at the loss of contact. he turned you around and gripped your face, “shut the fuck up.” then he crashed his mouth onto yours.

the makeout was quick and hot, jacks tongue fought for dominance against yours and you could feel the saliva swapping, that just make it even more hotter. jack pulled away and forced your mouth open, then he spit in it. “swallow.” you obeyed and jack smirked, caressing your face.

“you wanna get fucked more, huh baby? one orgasm wasn’t enough for you?” you shook your head and jack picked you up, shoving you against his window as he forced his cock back into you. “i’ll fuck you till you had enough don’t worry baby.”

you moaned out loud and began scratching at his back as his big arms wrapped around you and bounced your tiny figure up and down, all the pleasure becoming too overwhelming for you to handle. jack laughed in your ear, “don’t worry baby i got you. i won’t let you fall.”

after a few more thrusts, you came. but jack had other plans. “get on your knees.” you quickly got on your knees and jack forced his cock into your mouth, making you gag around it.

he groaned and threw his head back, gripping onto your hair for more support as you continued sucking the life out of him. you bobbed your head back and forth and gathered saliva into your mouth, letting his cock fall out so you can spit on it. you giggled as you slapped it against your face and pouted your lips up at him. he looked down at you, “fuck baby your so pretty.” you nodded and became stroking his cock, making sure to look up at him with low and seductive eyes at the same time.

“fuck i’m gonna come.” jack shot out spurts of cum onto your face, covering it all. you rubbed his cock all over you and licked his tip to collect any leftover cum, before using your fingers to lick his cum off your face.

jack pulled you up by your neck and sloppily kissed you, picking you up and bringing him into his bedroom. “my dirty fucking girl.” you giggled and wrapped your legs around him.

little did he know, his wife was on his way to speak with him about marriage counseling. yikes, that’s scandalous.

[guy60660]

Jack Schlossberg | Vogue

[eppysboys]

JFK's grandson 😌

[melancholicstation]

HUSBAND JACK SCHLOSSBERG HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

might make this into a couple of one-shots??

imagining WIFE!READER as an orion carloto type, who balances modelling and writing, and makes tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox on tiktok (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce.

met wife!reader at a runway after party of an up and coming new york indie brand ( sandy liang, khaite, bode etc. )

proposes to you with the blythe doll you had been obsessing over, dressed in a wedding dress and hand-customised by a popular etsy dealer with quite a high rate like this girl on tt

encouraged by jack to do a ‘what’s in my ( miu miu joie leather ) bag’ video on tiktok to help campaign for kamala akin to this video of anne hathaway but with a different vibe.

jack is ultimate embarrassing hard launcher bofy, leaving in all his girlfriends giggles that come from his chaotic antics when filming his videos.

wife!reader loves to slather jack’s face in biologique recherche’s “masque vivant”, he complains that it smells like rotting meat😹😹😹😹😹.

jack would be always on that damn phone during your runway shows, recording each time you pass him by in the catwalk.

would be the absolute opposite of marriage-shy.

unpopular opinion this man would be asking about marriage, a solid 3 months in ( jfk and jackie married in a YEAR )

fucks UP a rotisserie chicken.

forwards you his tweets before and asks if they’re good enough to post.

smells like aesop musk and of herbal deodorant.

wife!reader buys rick owen’s black and white t-shirts and slacks for jack, and jack’s absolutely baffled when he learns the price tag.

love language is buying wife!reader drinks whenever and wherever they are: hot chocolate in central park, home-delivers you a sab benedetto sparkling water because he had a meeting at cipriani downtown, and always orders a polo bar punch for you prior to your arrival to your shared weekly dinner date at the polo bar on 55th st.

instigates a24 marathons on friday nights, much to the dismay of your prior night plans ( you are more of a criterion collection girl and have held a subscription since you were a freshman in college )

( clumsily ) slips lana del rey lyrics into sexting and dirty talk.

husband!jack and wife!reader texts go like this:

jack is horrific at low impact pilates, he needs to be near a body of water.

he wears your prized doublesoul x orion caroloto ‘lamb’ socks around your woodfloored high-rise despite your varied attempts at hiding them from him.

constantly frets over you during society galas, which is quite convenient due to your tempered social anxiety and your forgetful memory of high society etiquette.

immediately brings you to meet the family, for which you were completely unprepared for ( i’m imagining something reminder of that one story of meghan markle meeting princess kate middleton in ripped jeans and bare feet )

jack loves to wear your 100% cotton brandy melville pointelle tanks despite them being comically tiny for his frame.

would have an innocence kink.

he gets intensely flushed when called his proper full name: john bouvier kennedy schlossberg, wife!reader abuses this to the HIGHEST degree!!!

the first time he entered you apartment he was constantly paranoid of breaking anything because your house was littered with ceramics from brooklyn under-ground designers and clay lamb figurines.

he NEEDS his beauty Zzzzzzz or else.

plays with your very expensive westman atelier blushes like a toddler.

sickly devoted to you.

you both want to adopt a lamb despite living in a HIGH-RISE apartment.

sends pics captioned with anaïs nin lewd quotes.

he would think whole foods was stupidly over priced but would purchase his groceries there in spite of his opinions.

has hyperfixations on old-hollywood women which causes you to be snippy at him for exactly 2-3 hours ex. jack’s current hyper fixation on audrey hepburn being his doppelgänger.

wife!reader definitely participated in that egg cracking trend where girls would crack an egg on their boyfriends head.

would love caring for your hair and doing your curly girl hair routine if you had one.

wife!reader does small yet viral shoots for brands like mirror palais, the row, and loewe.

manhandles you ( lovingly ) without even trying.

mans is a chronic diptyque candle lighter.

loves to be coddled and cradled as a grown man…

plays with your van cleef stack before stage when he’s nervous about his speech landing correctly

uses his family connections to get his girl courted by the high-ticket fashion brands: schiaparelli, chanel, dior, yves saint laurent etc.

[reidtina]

Mr. President

Pairing: jack schlossberg x fem!reader

Content warning: +18 MDI semi-public sex (I think it's considered), oral sex (reader receiving), pet name calling (honey, darling, baby, babe), vaginal fingering, orgasm, office sex, smut, mentions of sex, established relationship, I think that's it

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Jack Kennedy Schlossberg is the grandson of the Former President John F. Kennedy, and now he's the one to assume the role of president of the USA, he's a serious politician, but when it comes to his girlfriend Y/N, he's also a little horny, which sometimes leads to situations like eating her pussy in his office at the white house.

A/n: i wrote it because I didnt find many fics of him, but it's my first ever, I posted it on ao3 too

You’ve been dating Jack for over 3 years now, you lived in New York City, and since he moved to the White House in Washington you didn’t get to see each other as often as you’d want, but you had a few free days this week, so you decided to spend them in DC with him. The guards already knew you, so they let you in and you went straight to your boyfriend’s office on the west wing.

When he hears your knock on the door, he yells a little “come on in” and as you open the door, he looks up from the paperwork he was doing and smiles at you.

“Hey, darling” he says standing up from his chair and making his way to you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you” he sighs, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve missed you too, babe, I wish we could spend more time together” you say

“I know” he replies, sliding his hands to your hips, pulling you over to sit down on the edge of his desk. “But I want to make up for the lost time” he stands between your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. “I was about to go crazy having to work without seeing you all day” he says kissing your neck. His fingers move just under the hem of the tight black dress you are wearing.

“God, how I love this dress” he mumbles, his hands moving from your hips to slowly run up and down your back, feeling the soft lace on your skin through the fabric.

“Does that mean you don’t want to take it off?” you ask in a teasingly tone with a grin on your face.

He chuckles and is fast to reply “Oh, no, honey, I may love it, but there’s nothing you can wear that I’d like more than the sight of your bare skin”. He bites your shoulder lightly and runs his tongue over the spot he just bit.

Jack nips at your neck, planting a trail of kisses all the way down from your neck to your collarbone. “It’s not even fair how beautiful you are” he mumbles against your skin, his large, warm hands sliding under the dress to grab your thighs. He pulls back to look at you and his eyes roam your body, admiring every curve and dip of your figure under the form-fitting dress. “God, I need you” he groans.

“You have me, I’m yours” you say looking deep into his eyes and your hand cupping his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

When you break the kiss, he says “No, I need you right now” gripping at your waist to pull your body closer to his, pressing his hips into yours. His eyes are darkened with lust, his breathing heavy. “Can you lock the door?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

You get up from the desk and make your way to the door and while he closes the curtains you turn the key on the door, locking it and as soon as he hears the click of the door locking echoing through the office and you go back to where he’s standing, he pounces. He grabs your hips again and pins you to the edge of his desk, his mouth crashing into yours in a messy kiss. The kiss is hot, desperate, his tongue invades your mouth, tangling with yours.

“Hooking up with the president in the white house, that’s kinky” you mutter through the kiss, running one hand through his hair and the other lightly scratching his chest. “God, that mouth of yours” he mutters back, then running his tongue slowly over yours, before pulling away slightly. “Maybe I’ll have to put it to good use for me” he says, nipping your bottom lip and pinning you harder to the desk with his hips. His hands grip your thighs, slowly sliding up your dress. He plants a trail of kisses down your neck, biting softly at the skin, his warm breath fanning across your chest through the fabric of your dress. His hands continue to slide up your thighs, and he moves to push your legs apart.

He lifts you up and sets you gently on the desk, his body now between your legs, his lips are on your neck, slowly sucking in the soft skin and marking you as his own. His hands are on your hips, holding you against him as he continues to kiss and bite every bit of skin he can find, sometimes getting a moan out of you.

“God, you’re delicious” he mutters against your skin, his hands moving to your thighs as he pushes your dress up, slowly running his hands up your bare legs, his lips find their way to your collarbone, and he kisses, nips and sucks, masking your skin as he goes. “So soft” he breaths heavily, placing a kiss right over your chest before moving down to your bare thighs, his hands grip on them, as he slowly spread your legs wider “I need more” he groans and you moan to the feeling of his mouth on your thighs. “Take it” you say softly and low.

His lips move to your knee, where he bites down gently “Careful what you say to me” he mutters, his hands slowly tracing up your inner thigh “I’ll take everything I can”, his words send shivers up your spine. “It’s yours to take” you whisper as he pushes your legs open even further, biting gently at your inner thigh, his lips moving over your skin “you’re mine” he says, his hot breath washing over you. “I am” you confirm, nodding and caressing his hair as his lips find their way higher and higher, until you feel them press against your core through your underwear, he gently bites and sucks at the skin and then pauses to say: “and no one else’s”

“No one else’s, only yours” you confirm again, eager to feel his mouth on your skin again and then his tongue darts out, licking over the fabric of your underwear once again. He looks up at you through black eyelashes and whispers “I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to”, his fingers running over the lace of your panties. “Show me, babe” you ask.

He grins at you, and in one swift movement, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls the lace off, tossing them somewhere on the floor, before quickly getting back on his knees in front of you. He runs his hands up your legs again, his fingers slowly running over the sensitive skin of your center. “I’m gonna make you say my name” he says in a seductive tone. “Oh, fuck” you let out a moan when one of his fingers enters you.

He moves his other hand up to grip your thigh, pulling you closer to him “That’s not it, darling” he teases, his breath hot on your skin and now two fingers moving inside of you. “Say it” he demands, his lips trailing up your thighs, moving closer to where his fingers are, his lips move up and down, not quite where you need them yet. “Jack, please” you beg, your voice shaking in lust and need. He runs his tongue over the sensitive skin of your thighs, teasing you “please what, honey?” he asks, looking up at you, his brown eyes darkened with lust, burning through your skin. “Please eat my pussy” you ask, barely able to let out the words through your desperation. “That’s all you had to say, darling” he mutters, and wasting no more time his tongue dives into you, his mouth and fingers working over you. He sucks and licks at your skin, tasting every bit of you as he devours you, his tongue moves rapidly.

He pulls back for a moment, running his tongue over his lips, the corners of which turn up in a sly grin “I’ve been wanting this all that, baby” he says and you grin down at him and teasingly say “You love the way I taste, don’t you?” He hums against you, his tongue running up and down again “Yeah, I do. I’m addicted to you” he says, his eyes flickering up, watching your facial expressions, admiring your moans and the way you tilt your head back in pleasure, loving every second of it. “You know I love when you sound like that” he mutters, his eyes never leaving you. “Jack” you moan his name, the sound of it sending blood down his cock, he loves the sounds you make, loves the fact that he’s able to get you this worked up “Say it again” he asks and you obey, moaning his name again as you bite your lower lip “I’m almost cumming, Jack” you groan. “Yeah, baby?” he smirks onto your skin, keeping his fingers movements at the same pace and asks you “Tell me what you want”

“Just keep doing it like this” you say grabbing his hair and he groans against you, loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair, he obliges, continuing to move his tongue and fingers in just the way he knows you love. “Just like this, baby? You like that”

“Uhm, yeah, just like that” you moan, his mouth working to get you just where you need to be, you feel your legs shaking and your breath getting heavier when you finally cum on his fingers and mouth, he laps up your release, pulling out his fingers and running his tongue over your core and sucking his fingers before standing up and grabbing you to hold your body against his. He kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy, “You’re so perfect” he says, cupping your face and holding your body against his. “I love you, Jack” you reply, he smiles, a soft, love-filled smile as he lifts you into his arms and walks over to his chair, sitting down and pulling your body into his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and whispers “I love you too, y/n”

“Where are my panties? I can’t be caught sitting here on your lap wearing nothing but a dress” you say and he grins against your skin “They’re on the floor somewhere, let’s hope no one walks in” he says, pressing a gentle kiss on your neck and running one hand up and down your bare leg. “Let me just grab them” you ask, grinning too and attempting to stand up, but he holds you in his lap “Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere, not when you’re sitting on my lap with nothing but a dress”.

You chuckle and say “You’re so naughty, Mr. President”, he grins and says “Only for you, you menace. You make it so easy when you wear a dress like this”. So you tease him and say “Even easier when I don’t wear anything”. He groans and bites your neck “Don’t tease me like this, you know I’ll have you again” he says, running his hands on your bare thighs. “I’d be happy to let you have me as many times as you want to” you say, smirking. “I need to go through a few meetings and then I’ll take you back to my room” he promises, making even more eager to have him all to yourself all night long. “I can’t wait for that” you grin.

“Oh, I have so many ideas” he says, his lips moving to your shoulder “and you’ll have to follow every single one of them” he teasingly whispers, nipping at your skin and making you smile to the thought of the night you’ll have.

[lovrsin]

LISTEN TO ME.

i am going to write the dirtiest, nastiest, freakiest, grossest smut about this man right here.

[murdrdocs]

disclaimer: this is a piece of fictional work. although based on real people, the characters—and circumstances—presented are entirely fictional and should be treated as such.

jack's away for work, but you convince him to call you for a bit. slight power dynamics; phone sex; masturbation; lowkey fluff MDNI 18+ w/ JACK SCHLOSSBERG

as soon as he answers the call, you can tell he's a little tipsy. there's a shine to his eyes, his gaze more relaxed than usual, his blinks less punctual as he stares down into the phone almost at an aerial view.

then he speaks, an energetic, drawn out and almost bimbo-esque "hey" yelled right into the microphone. there's commotion in the background, music and chatter layered together with an almost synthetic perfection.

"hey, where are you?" you squint at the screen, already swiping out of facetime and clicking on his location whenever he starts answering.

"uh i'm out. at dinner. want me to call you later?"

by the time later comes, you might be knocked out and drooling into the pillows with your phone limply hanging in your hand.

but you've been dying to talk to him. you've seen nothing but media coverage of his day—tiktoks from students on campus, tweets from people who claim to have walked by him while he was on his ripstick, a few pictures with curt messages sent from him. you haven't actually spoken to jack since early this morning when you were still too tired, sleep still clouding your vision as you answered his phone call.

you're desperate to speak to him while you're mostly coherent, so you agree.

you hang up after he gives you three exaggerated kisses into the camera. you wait for a while, watch a few episodes of a show you stopped watching months ago, read a few articles you've been meaning to get to. you consider a snack, maybe something a little sweet, but that requires getting out of bed and the mattress and sheets have already conformed to perfectly house your body. in the spirit of comfort, you stay put.

when your phone vibrates against the sheets, it crudely wakes you up. it takes a second for your heart rate to calm down, but you don't focus on that when you accept jack's call—not a facetime this time which you're a little upset about, but you won't complain.

you put it on speaker and snuggle back under the duvet.

"hey, honey."

you hum, trying to fight off a yawn as you stretch, responding to him all the while.

"you were asleep, weren't you?" he sounds like he's exerting himself. you assume he's walking back to his hotel.

"yeah, but it's fine. what's up? are you heading back to your room?"

"nah, i've been back for a little while now. are you sure you don't wanna go back to sleep?"

you smile a little, slowly waking up by the minute. "i'm sure, jack. i wanna talk to you."

a second passes and your eyelids are getting heavier. you adjust yourself to sit up a bit more in effort to stay awake.

"where'd you go for dinner?" you ask him.

"there was this uh ... this historic place not far from the hotel. i went with a few people i met earlier."

"yeah? how was the food?"

he takes a breath, a sharp inhale that's followed by sounds of rustling. "it's was okay, y'know? like you could tell the chefs cared about what they were doing but i wouldn't say it was made with love."

you snort. "food that's made with love's gonna be hard to find."

"hey, we did it once, we can do it again."

you agree halfheartedly, solely because you're so tired that you cant even think to open your mouth right now. it's quiet again and there's a sound on the other side of the line. it sounds familiar, or at least familiar enough. if you weren't between sleep and wake you might've figured it out by now.

he covers the noise with his voice. "what about you? what're you doing?"

"laying in bed. feels nice to lay on your side for once."

"hey!" he sounds offended, but you know he doesn't mean it. "don't get too comfortable. you're gonna fuck up the feng shui."

"i'm not touching anything, i promise."

this time he hums noncommittally. you're sure he knows you've adjusted his pillows to your liking, using the one that smells the most like him as your own personal stuffed animal.

"can i be cliché for a second?"

the switch is abrupt. you hesitate, narrowing your eyes down at the phone as if you could see jack. you wish you could.

"sure...? but before you do that, why aren't we facetiming?"

"it felt too intimate."

"too intimate? how?"

"just ... just let me say my cliché line, okay?"

"okay." you laugh a bit, sitting back and waiting for whatever jack's gonna say this time.

he waits and you don't know if it's because he's nervous, or because he's trying to build suspense. with jack, it could really be either.

he takes a breath and you prepare yourself.

"what're you wearing?" he deepens his voice as he says it, like he's trying to make you laugh. and you do. you tilt your head back and let out an honest, good laugh. but then you realize that while he was making you laugh, he wasn't joking.

you put it together.

not facetiming because it felt 'too intimate' for him, the sounds on the other side of the line—slick sounds that you know far too well—his cliché ask to know what you're wearing.

"you're a pervert, you know that?"

"only because you love to remind me every 3 business days."

"just telling the truth, baby."

"c'mon," he shifts again and you wonder how long he's been at this. has he been edging himself? waiting to hear about your day before he cued you in on what he was doing? how long did he wait to call you? "tell me what you're wearing. i need the image."

you pull your legs up beneath the duvet, bringing the covering with you.

"nothing too sexy, don't get your hopes up. just my underwear and a shirt."

jack groans but not out of pleasure. out of frustration. "yeah and that really narrows it down. give me some description, some color. really paint a picture."

you groan. he's so demanding tonight.

"fine. black panties, the lacy boy short ones. and that creed shirt i bought like two months ago. the impulse purchase."

his hum is one of satisfaction. he sighs and you hear a croak, as if he'd just opened his mouth and let whatever sound brewing in his throat come out without conscious orchestration.

"will you touch yourself, too? i don't wanna be the only one doing it," he asks.

you consider it, but even the thought of lifting your hand and spreading your legs tires you out. you're still barely awake as is, and an orgasm would help put you right to sleep, but you don't want it right now.

"not tonight."

"tomorrow?" his voice is full of so much hope that you grin.

"yeah, tomorrow. sure." you chew on your bottom lip. "if you let me see when you come."

there's a single moment that passes and then the picture of jack's contact turns into a reflection of you. you don't waste anytime answering the incoming facetime call, instantly clicking the green and then lifting the phone to a full image of your face.

the sight is as beautiful as you thought it would be. jack is illuminated mostly by the reflection of you. there's a slight warm light source coming from in front of him, maybe a lamp, but most of the light comes from only you.

he has you looking at him from a downward angle, as if his phone is sitting right atop one of his thighs. he stares down at you for a few moments, his eyes heavy and lidded, completely relaxed. his tongue flicks out over his lips and then he leaves them parted. he's not as quiet as he was before, letting audible breaths slip out. you can hear the shlick of his hand gliding over his dick, too.

you wanna see that angle, too, but you can tell he's close and you don't wanna risk missing that. so you sit and watch, taking note of the small pinch between his eyebrows, the way he sucks in air through his teeth as he winces, his head tipping back. he's bracing himself and you see the exact moment where his orgasm happens.

he's talking to you, telling you he's close, instinctively chanting "almost there, almost there, just a bit more" like he usually does when you're together.

he tenses for a moment, the dimples in his cheeks pronounced, and then he relaxes. his features soften, his eyes stay closed but his eyebrows lift. he looks completely at peace.

he's coming down when you tell him, "you're so pretty". he grins, big and earnest.

"you're prettier," he tells you as he offsets the camera, giving you a view of the pillows until he corrects it. "you wanna accompany me in the shower?"

again, you agree, but it's not much accompanying as you're dozing off by the time the water temperature has been set exactly to jack's liking and he's finally standing under the stream.

you fall asleep to the sound of water running and jack singing unwritten.

[gaybuckybarnesss]

[jhopezwrld]

please please pleaseee write jack schlossberg relationship headcanons 😩🙏 i love your fics!!

YEAA MORE JACK LETS GOOOOO

dating jack schlossberg headcanons ——

cw: idk man but it’s pg i swear (maybe pg-13 at worst)

takes pictures and videos of everything and i mean everything

just woke up and your hair is crazy? he’s taking a picture. you’re singing in the car? he’s recording it. mid hair wash in the shower? he’s taking a picture.

somewhat affectionate in public but extremely affectionate in private

if you’re out on a walk or going shopping with him, he’s got your hand in his and you’re walking on the inside of the sidewalk and he’s keeping you as close to him as he can

at home he basically lives inside of your clothes with you. will sit next to you in your couch and pull your legs on top of his and rub your calves because he just loves to touch you

showers together!!! he loves the domesticity of it. you have to buy double of all of your hair care items bc he’s using them all. your conditioner doesn’t last more than a month with him staying with you

begs you to wash his hair all the time. he just loves when you play with it tbh

will happily pay for you to get your nails done just to feel them scratch his scalp

kisses all over your face when you wake up together in the morning

or he will sneak out if he wakes up before you to grab you both breakfast and coffee

loves watching you get ready for dates. he’ll sit on the edge of your bed and just admire you as you do your hair and makeup

goes to you for fashion advice all the time. he also secretly loves coordinating outfits with you

makes sure to tell you he loves you before you both go to sleep, even if you’re upset with eachother

sends you random videos of what he’s doing throughout the day

makes you playlists of songs that remind him of you

i feel like he’s just such a classic gentleman and does all the ‘gentlemanly’ things like open doors for you, pull out your chair, doesn’t let you pay for anything, all that kinda stuff

he’s really just the sweetest boyfriend ever like u cannot get any luckier

[newwavesylviaplath]

i think about him all the time.

[remotewatch]

some call it arrogance

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.5k wc

summary: Let’s face it: you kind of suck at paddleboarding. Thankfully, your boyfriend is an eager instructor with a trick up his sleeve!

cw: shameless smut, outdoor recreation, questionable teaching, peppy upbeat softdom jack (good lord), fingering, unprotected sex, if you want to keep your plan b go VOTE ‼️‼️, play fighting, jd is catching strays, this is somewhat a comedy

minors dni and stay out!!!!

Time and time again, you realize that you and Jack have very different definitions of what constitutes a short paddle. You could pass out right here on your little break, sun hat plopped over your face and one leg dangling in the pleasantly cool water. He tugs you closer to his board to drum a few fingers on your knee and ask “You asleep?” just as you’re drifting off.

A barely audible “mhm” is all you care to let out. Jack’s hand slides to your inner thigh, a polite veneer of concern slapped onto his more crude interests.

“Do you need something?” When you lift your hat to squint over at him for being so euphemistic, he’s already zapping you with those doe eyes you struggle to resist.

“Diva, the telephotos,” you mumble as you flop back down. There’s almost certainly no one hiding out in the mangroves waiting to catch you two, but the press had noted the extension of your Japan trip to stop at Iriomote. Your growing collection of condemning paparazzi pics is already nudging at the edge of your mind, and you have no desire to add to it today.

“They can’t get a good shot this far out.” His hand stills when you don’t murmur back how much of a whore he’d have to be to know that so definitively.

“Here, let’s get out of the sun for a bit. Get you a honey stick or something.” A grateful thumbs up is the most movement you care to make.

As much as you like getting into Jack’s hobbies with him, it’s undeniably more fun to have him tow you around whistling Elvis tunes like your little chauffeur. It would be so easy to fall asleep to the sound of it paired with the waves crashing in the distance; maybe you do; it’s really none of your business.

The temperature suddenly drops, and you briefly tilt your hat up to see he’s steered you into a particularly thick mangle. It’s a straight, narrow shot from it up to the shore; exactly the type of hidden launch he’d know about.

He turns around from rooting in the supply bag and waggles a fanned out selection of power bars, honey straws, and glucose gels at you.

“What’re we having today, huh?” Still hiding under your hat, you grasp blindly until you find a few straws and tear one open with your teeth, shoving your dentist’s exasperation to the back of your mind. Jack knows better than to pester you until your temperature and blood sugar level out a bit. Eventually, you rise from the dead and get a better look at your spot.

The mangrove roots here are as thick as you’ve ever seen and rise far enough out of the water that you could set up a hammock under them. Schools of diminutive silver fish swirl beneath the surface, bouncing light back up to paint the underside of the overhead foliage. The two of you are technically visible from open water, but a pap would have to drop anchor at the perfect angle to get more than a glimpse. You remind yourself that you’re on the west side of the island anyway; surely there’s more exciting things to report on than America’s most notorious SUP proficiency gap relationship.

“You’re getting better, you know.” You gnaw at a second honey straw and scrunch up your nose.

“Am I?”

“For sure. Remember Lake Superior?”

“God, must I?” you groan, wincing at the mere thought.

“Gotta appreciate where you started!” Jack is laid out on his board doing alternate toe touches, and the fact that it’s more of an unconscious ritual than a way of showing off his balance makes it all the more annoying.

He’s truly so pretty, even after putting your legs through hell on the way out. The little gaps in the mangrove canopy cover him in spots of sunlight, and he still refuses to buy a smaller pair of shorts, just rolling down the hem of those ratty old ones until they’re shorter than any of yours. You’re too busy watching them fall further down his thighs with every leg raise to notice he’s still talking.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said-,” Jack finishes the last of his coconut water and smacks his lips. “Why don’t you stretch a bit before we head back?” You press your hands flat as if to push yourself up, and he notes your hesitation.

“What is it?”

“…Can you spot me?” His smile cracks his whole face open like a fresh daffodil, clearly thrilled to be needed.

“Why, certainly.”

You brace yourself as he slides onto your board as easily as scooting closer on the couch, quads flexing delectably while he helps you stand up.

“Do a forward bend for me,” Jack effortlessly slips back into his instructor cadence, to the point that you could forget he’s your boyfriend aside from his hands feeling far more than professionally comfortable on your hips. He leans up against your backside to peer over you as you place your palms flat on the deck, not bothering to conceal how much it excites him. After the tension of the paddle out and stiffening up during your nap, the stretch in your hamstrings is virtually orgasmic. Jack doesn’t miss the little sigh of relief you let out, nor do you the the smugness that spills into his voice.

“And walk it out, just like that,” you can feel him staring at your ass and can’t even kick his shin without knocking you both over.

“Can you at least pretend to enjoy this a little less?” it doesn’t sound very commanding with his dick pressed right up against you before you shift into downward dog. Even less so when he knows how much you love a good calf stretch, knows exactly how far to push you into it to make you melt in his hands.

“If I’m not happy to be here, how can I expect you to have any fun?” There’s a brief wobble as he reaches to grab your ankles and help you move to a headstand, but one shift of his heel and you might as well be back on dry land.

“That’s why I said pretend.”

“That’s why I’m not an actor. And, push yourself up!” If nothing else, you’re decent at handstands, at least with Jack ready to catch your legs. Decent on a good day, that is, when the humidity isn’t bleeding your energy like a stuck pig. Your right palm slips into the water, and you screw your eyes shut in anticipation of a face full of board and a few tree bark scrapes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, but his grip instantly locks down on your ankles and lifts you out of the line of fire. Jack’s obliques ripple as he rights the board, and he’s very clearly pleased to catch your notice of it.

“That’s alright, you had a few good seconds there.” He lets you swing a few moments longer than necessary before lowering you back down and piping up again. Ever the show-off.

“It’s always…,” he hesitates as if he’s searching for the right words. “-been my understanding that if you can balance on all fours in unfavorable circumstances, you can stay standing just fine.”

“And what kind of unfavorable circumstances would you be talking about?” it’s obvious, though you’d rather hear him say it. He knows you too well to take the bait and cheekily rolls his eyes.

“You know, the favorable ones.”

“Is that what they teach you at surf instructor school?” Your hands are back on the board now, and you kick one foot free to slide it down his chest under his shorts.

“Oh yeah, the first thing,” he chuckles, fishing it out before helping you down into a plank.

Jack somehow wriggles his way under you without causing any major upheaval, claiming it’s the easiest way to check your form. He’s talking like this is your first time on a board just to wind you up and making no attempt to hide how much he enjoys doing so.

“Now, there’s nothing to it, just gotta make sure you’re not leaning too far to the left-“ he tugs at one of your bikini ties.

“Or the right,” he twists the other between his fingers, not quite loose enough to fall off, but certainly plenty of room for him to slide his fingers below your waistband. His smile grows wider when he pulls them back out to observe their newfound shine. You have a halfhearted go at defending your reactivity.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh yeah? You’re pulling a JD, getting riled up by the dolphins?” If your balance or endurance were half as good as his, you’d shove him off your board and ditch him right there. The best you can do is double down; a bit pitiful, but better than giving him any satisfaction right after that bullshit.

“And these are the unfavorable circumstances? Seriously?” It’s more the stupid fucking grin on his face than the controlled circles he’s tracing on your clit that’s disrupting your concentration. You’re hoping that focusing on the space between Jack’s eyebrows will keep your mind blank, but his fingers feel better and better the more you try to ignore them sliding around like he’s trying to memorize every cell you’ve got down there.

“It would be deeply irresponsible of me to throw you right into the deep end. Safety first, after all.”

“So irresponsible,” the mocking tone you’re going for doesn’t really work when your pitch is stuttering in perfect response to his movements.

Your eyes slip closed out of habit, but he’s right there playfully pinching your nipple to bring you back to reality.

“Hey, now! No daydreaming during your lesson! That’s not very considerate to your instructor,” he’s trying to pout up at you, hit you right in your weak spot, but he looks far too pleased with himself for the illusion to work.

“What if he deserves it for comparing me to a bloated couch fucker?” Again, the conviction isn’t really there when you’re bending your knees into terrible form trying to chase his touch every time they recede.

Jack yanks his fingers away, sucks them clean with a slippery pop, and kisses you on the point of your chin before shuffling out from under you.

“Clearly you’re not being challenged enough if you can complain like that!”

This time, you do try to kick him off the board, but you have no range at all to put some power into it. That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

“Look at you! You wouldn’t have been able to do that at Lake Superior. Told you you’re getting better!” He’s tugged his shorts down and your swimsuit to the side before you can snap at him, and he actually cackles when he sees how much your lats twitch when he first slides in.

“You’re unbelievable.” The way your voice shakes makes it sound more like a compliment than a last ditch effort to compose yourself.

“That’s what I’ve heard! There you go, arch for me.” He’s not causing much motion yet, only waves big enough to scatter the fish, but you’re wound so tight he might as well be putting you straight through the deck. Your arms are already shaking, and of course Jack notices; how could he not?

“Keep your arms steady. No, don’t lock them up, lean into it,” he’s saying like they’re not on fire, like you can’t feel yourself clamping down on him in some sort of weird unified muscular system effort to keep you from falling on your face.

“Can’t believe y-“

“How fast you’re progressing? I know, right! You must have a pretty good teacher!” He’s absolutely insufferable. You’ve been moving nonstop since dawn, he’s got your ass locking up like an NDA, and his voice is still perfectly fucking steady.

Jack’s middle finger just barely trails along your side, feather-light enough to raise goosebumps on your skin.

“You’re holding too much tension here.” Thank god, he mercifully spares you the lecture about proper abdominal engagement.

“Jack, I can’t- I’m gonna fall!” The wavering in your voice is so unbelievably humiliating when he’s barely breaking a sweat. Your arms buckle, threatening collapse, and there he is seamlessly shifting his hands from your hips to swing under your torso and support you when they finally give out, the other splaying flat across the deck.

“Noooo you’re not, you’re fine. You can have a little break, and then we’ll try again, okay?” All while his thrusts remain infuriatingly consistent. The board barely even moves when he catches you. Your nails scrabble at the deck pad, then the limb supporting you, trying to regain your balance, ground yourself, Jesus, something, but he’s got a better angle now and can haul you back onto his dick as hard as he likes without worrying about your arms giving out.

“You’re such an asshole!” you sob as you claw at his forearm.

“Tell me to stop then! Be silly and turn down a free lesson, why dontcha?” Any attempts you make to thrash your way out of Jack’s grasp just stimulate you more, and he’s suppressing a fit of laughter watching you jolt like you’re stuck in a bear trap. When all that’s left for him to knock out of you are little stilted squeals, his resolve softens, and he leans down to kiss your ear.

“I know you can do it. Push yourself up for me.”

The only way out is through. This time, your arms do lock up; blame the unfavorable circumstances. The world narrows to tunnel vision as you watch the board tilt left, then right, with the ringing in your ears making the whole spectacle feel a tinge nightmarish.

Your orgasm hits you hard enough to have Jack choking out an “oh, fuck” that sounds just as strangled as his dick must feel. You can hardly enjoy it over both of your triceps cramping terribly, though you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself for staying dry when you slump to your elbows halfway through.

As unceremoniously as Jack thuds down at your side, he still instinctively spreads out enough to keep the board steady. He looks about ready to fall asleep, so of course you roll over to bother him.

“Is that how you taught people to surf?”

“Nah, they were way more advanced.”

“Fuck you!” He’s back on his board and paddling out of the inlet in a flash, somehow not flipping yours in the process.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t need any breaks on the return trip!” By some miracle, you manage to grab his leash before he flies past you.

“You’ll tow me back.” Jack spares you a full glance over his shoulder, and there’s an unmistakable streak of you remaining on the left side of his mouth.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m your favorite student.”