Jack Avery Oneshots/Short Stories

- | Fuck Buddies | - Part Two - JRA

Jack and I stumble into the Avery household, despite the fact when I said I wanted to go home, I really meant my apartment. It didn't exactly matter though, I was pretty much just as comfortable here as I was at my place, and the benefit of coming here is that we wouldn't be alone, so it's possible he wouldn't take advantage of me.

I hear a gasp from in front of us as Jack walks me through the living room and I think towards the direction of his room. But we don't make it there before a very concerned Sydnie stands in our way. I'm confused momentarily, because I swore she was still back at the party, but it was probable that she left as soon as I left her alone in the kitchen, since we came together. I then feel guilty for leaving her, but also for coming home with her brother holding me, like I always do. Even though I said I wouldn't.

"Jack, what the fuck?" Sydnie immediately attacks him, and I hate that I want to defend him. I'm the one who got myself this drunk, and she knows this too. It was only statistically likely that I would end up with him by the end of the night.

"Don't 'what the fuck' me, I'm just making sure she's safe." She scoffs as Jack speaks, like she doesn't believe him at all. Then I feel her hands on my arms and I'm being tugged from his embrace roughly, an angry Sydnie glaring at him in disgust.

"I'm so sure. I'll take it from here then, you can go." She snaps at him, but she struggles to hold me up since I don't have the most control over my legs right now. Jack tugs backwards on my waist, tearing me back from her in a rush that makes me want to throw up all over again.

"Thanks but no. I'm not the one who left her at the party in this state, you are. So I'll take her." I want to tell them to stop fighting but for some reason I'm having a real out of body experience right now, and I think it's because literally all of my focus is on trying not to hurl all over all of us. They continue to bicker, but I'm not paying attention anymore, and eventually it seems that Jack wins, as he's now successfully pulling me towards the stairs to his bedroom.

"Do I need to carry you again, baby?" He asks me quietly. I nod at him, putting my hand over my mouth. I am definitely going to puke everywhere if we don't stop moving. I'm lifted into his strong hold for the second time tonight, fitting too perfectly in his arms like it's where I'm meant to be. I glare at myself internally for thinking this, still being so fucking in love with him, even when I'm drunk.

Wait, am I in love with him?

I rid myself of the thought, not wanting to go down that pathway mentally right now. Jack lies me down on his bed, which is much more comfortable and welcoming than the bed back at the mansion in Beverly Hills. I probably feel this way because I've slept in it more times than I can count on both hands, but that doesn't matter to me as I bundle myself in the covers, shutting my eyes as my head hits his pillows that smell just like him.

"You can't fall asleep yet, Paigy." Jack scolds, sitting next to me and placing a hand on my cheek, rubbing back and forth, "You need to drink some water and take a few Advil so you don't have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow." He's being incredibly sweet and it's almost unnerving. I don't know why he's being so nice to me. It's not that he's normally an asshole exactly but he's not usually caring like he is now.

"Ugh, no daddy, I don't want to." I groan, before very quickly realizing my mistake. I was meaning to be sarcastic, but forgetting that Jack has a daddy kink is quite possibly the worst thing to do in my fuzzy state, and my eyes snap open at the same time as it leaves my lips. Jack's body has stiffened and his jaw is clenched again as he looks down at me. I chew on my bottom lip sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to." He tightens his lips, nodding at the air.

"Mhm." He hums, taking his hand off my cheek, and I grow a little nervous. I wonder if I would be upset if he took advantage of me, or if it's actually what I want him to do. Jack and I have never had drunk sex. High sex, plenty. But never drunk. And I begin to ponder if it would be different, wanting desperately all of the sudden to find out.