Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader
Warnings: pure fluff, teasing, flirty Abbot.
Summary: You decide itās finally time to pay him back for all his flirting.
The air conditioning was aggressive on a good day but today it felt personal cause they didn't turn it down when the weather outside turned cold. By 8:00 PM, you were a shivering human held together by a thin scrub top.
You had checked the weather this morning.
But nobody mentioned the temperature would drop when the sun hided.
"You're shivering 'cause of a new medical condition or are you happy to see me?" a familiar voice spoke behind you.
You didn't even have to look up from the chart you were frantically finishing.
"I'm cold, Jack," you muttered, in a slight bad mood.
Jack leaned against the desk. He looked annoyingly comfortable in a dark hoodie. He was starting his night shift just as you were reaching your breaking point.
"Tragic," he reached out, his hand briefly brushing your arm. His skin was warm against yours. "Youāre freezing. Whereās your jacket?"
"In a parallel universe where I actually check the night temps before leaving the house."
"Well, next time, just consult me. Iām an expert in... keeping pretty girls warm."
"God, shut up, Abbot," you cringed and he smirked. He headed towards the staff room, giving a small squeeze to the back of your neck, a gesture of affection that had become routine.
Minutes later, you stumbled into the staff locker room. You just wanted your bag, your keys and the heater in your car turned up to the max.
You reached your locker, but stopped short when you opened it.
Inside it was an oversized black hoodie.
You looked around, the room was empty.
You glanced at your keypad lock. You hadn't told Jack your code.
But heād watched you enter it enough times while leaning casually against the lockers, chatting you up before rounds.
He was observant; it was part of his charm, and his curse.
Pinned to the fabric was a scrap of a pad with Jackās messy writing:
Donāt freeze to death on my watch. Itās rude.
P.S. 0-1-2-3? Seriously, doll? Change your password. Too easy.
ā J.
You pulled the hoodie off your locker. It was massive.
When you pulled it on, the scent of him wrapped around you like a physical embrace.
You felt your face heat up thinking of him.
You swung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the exit.
You passed the nursing station. Jack was there.
You didn't plan it.
Maybe it was the sudden rush of warmth or the sheer audacity of him guessing your locker code.
But as you walked past, you stepped into his personal space.
Jack started to look up, a witty remark already forming on his lips but you were faster. You leaned in, your hand momentarily grazing his shoulder, and pressed a quick peck right to the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, handsome," you murmured.
By the time he actually processed the contact, you were already heading toward the sliding glass doors of the ER.
Jack froze, his hand hovering over the keyboard, the smirk heād been wearing since the locker room now replaced by a look of wide eyed surprise.
Behind the desk, a couple of the night shift nurses started whispering, their eyebrows raised in unison.
"Did she justā?" Dr. Shen started.
"Yeah," he breathed, finally turning back to the screen, though he didn't seem to see the words on it at all. "Yeah, she fucking did."
ā ļø ā MDNI 18+. fem!reader, jack teaching you how to ride, premature orgasm (female), age gap
āYeah, baby, just like that,ā Jack Harper leans against the headboard, eyes focused on your inconsistent movements up and down his length. Your rhythm is slightly off and you look so shy on top of him like this, but heās gentle with the way he caresses your hips and offers praise. āDoing so good. Such a quick learner, yeah?ā
āMmphāā throaty moans spill from your mouth as your eyes screw shut to focus on the feeling of your cunt swallowing Jackās cock. It sounds messyā your movements are jagged and there are bubbly wet sounds from the way your arousal coats Jackās dick. Itās obvious how much pleasure youāre getting from ramming his cock into your cervix, and the way your cunt squelches around him is auditory proof of that. āIt feelsā¦ so different like this,ā you say in between breaths.
āYeah? Itās deep. I can feel every inch of you, babydoll. Feels real nice.ā Jack seems unaffected by your movements while you ride him in your flustered state. His cool demeanor contrasts with your heavy breaths and stutter of your hips, and itās more than clear there is a lapse in experience between the two of you. Perhaps you should have tried riding a toy first? Maybe you would have learned how to ride and this wouldnāt feel so humiliating, but it was too late to do that now.
Slowly, you open your eyes, trying to gauge Jackās reaction to your unstable movements up and down his cock. When you catch sight of the way his lips part, and how his gaze fixates on your face contorting with pleasure, you arenāt able to stop your climax from hitting. With hot cheeks and your orgasm soaking Jackās lap, you can only mutter a shy, āUh ohā¦.ā
summary: ending up in the E.R. is one way to end pittsburgh n1. also an interesting way to reset a dislocated hip.
pairing: jack abbot x popstar!reader
warnings: mdni!, medical inaccuracies, cursing,no use of y/n, loopy reader, suggestive content, sabrina carpenter discography, no spell check.
word count: 2k
author's note: BACK FROM HIATUS BC YOUR GIRL IS GRADUATING!! wow im so sorry but lowkenuinly been a wild semester. first time writing for the pitt ah ! i hope you enjoy :)) i saw someone mention popstar!reader and jack and a chill ran down my spine bc that trope is my fav. i threw this together before bed so im sorry if it sucks okay teehee bye
part 2
It was almost perfect.
It was the first show back in North America for the second leg of tour, and everything managed to fall into perfect rhythm. You remembered every mark, changed outfits within your quick change time frame, and managed to stay on key while dancing on stage.
Until the end of the show.
You bow with your dancers, watching confetti fall while you wave to the audience, blowing kisses to the front row, before turning to walk up the stairs on your prop "home" on stage to exit. The lights begin to dim and as you reach the last step, your platform boot slips, sending you tumbling upwards and onto your hip where the edge of the stair ends.
The "ooh" from the crowd that can still see you fall was more than enough to knock your ego down a few pegs. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your manager hurridly approaching.
Nothing else is circulating in your brain except for the fact that your hip hurts. Almost numbingly.
"Shit!" You exclaim as you attempt to move your right leg.
"Are you alright?" Your manager finally comes to your aid, urging someone in her headset to call 911.
You try and move up again, "Ah!ā no I can't even put weight on my side."
A crew member approaches, letting you both know an ambulance is 3 minutes away. He looks pale, watching with wide eyes as you groan from the floor. He scurries when he sees the state your leg is in. Which is never a good sign.
"That doesn't look good." Looking down, you see your right leg at a very awkward angle,"Did I already break my hip in my 20s?" A bead of sweat trails across your forehead from both performing and the pain.
"We'll figure it out when we get to the hospital," your manager soothes. She gets the EMT's attention when they finally arrive, stretcher ready for you. You can already sense the excitement from them, one EMT checking for his phone.
"Sophie?" you ask turning towards your manager, "try and make it discreet please." The last thing you need is a tabloid cover of you in the back of an ambulance with the title ESPRESSO STAR TAKES A FALL.
She's holding her headset close to her ear, grimace on her face, "ā¦ About that."
The one thing you're grateful for is that you didn't need lights and sirens for the ride to the E.R.
However that doesn't really stop paparazzi from causing a scene wherever you go. You're only able to see where you are after the paramedics wheel you past the frenzy of flashing lights and into the hospital.
It looks fairly busy, doctors and nurses looking down at their charts as they breeze from room to room. It makes you feel silly, you're sure someone in the waiting room is having a heart attack meanwhile you tripped on some stairs. The rhinestoned two-piece you're wearing adds salt to the wound, too. You stick out like a sore thumb in the colorless room.
The paramedic in charge starts listing your name and age to a nearby nurse, "ā¦she fell on some stairs while on stage, BP is 117/78, pulse 92, unable to move her right hip at all."
The redhead nods then looks at the mob outside the ambulance bay doors, raising an eyebrow at the EMT, "What's with the frenzy outside?"
"Holy shit."
You turn to look at a new face, a doctor with an almost empty dunkin' coffee in his hand, as he freezes from where he was dropping off his ipad. He fumbles with his drink, looking for a way to not look like a fish out of water.
"Shen, c'mon let's go," the nurse claps, ushering him to take your case out of the med bay.
"Rightāokay trauma 2 is open, let's get her situated now," Dr. Shen states, directing the group into the secluded room. "And Lena?," he motions to the commotion blocking the very crucial ambulance bay, "call for securiy. A lot of them."
In a moment, there's a lot of talking happening around you that you can't even begin to comprehend. You're being lifted off the stretcher and onto an actual bed, and the pain hits you tenfold. "Fuck ow," you cry out.
Dr. Shen lets out a nervous breath before saying your name, "Did you hit your head at all during the fall? Any nausea or dizziness?" He opens up your eyelids gently with his fingers, flashing a pen light between both. "Equal and reactive," he calls out.
"No, I just fell onto my side. Can't move my leg without wanting to die," you moan.
"Push 4 of morphine," He orders.
You nod tiredly, "Mhm, yeah push that." The relief is almost immediate, the pain in your hip slowly easing as the morhphine hits your IV.
Two more people rush into the room, blue gloves snapped on before you could say hello. You're only able to see a woman as she steps in front of where your head is lolled to the side. "What's going on hereāwoah," the woman says. She stops herself for a second, surveying the room to see if anyone else is seeing the most talked about pop star at the moment in the trauma bed,"You're-that'sā"
"Yep. I know. We'll talk about it in the break room after, Dr.Ellis," Dr. Shen chirps, this is the most exciting thing to walk through the doors since a Brad Pitt look alike got hit by an e-bike.
"The only thing we should be discussing is our patient," a new voice adds, although he does let out a low hum at the sight of you. "How'd you take a tumble tonight?"
You know an attractive voice when you hear one.
You lift your head up as much as the morphine will let you, lazily eyeing the room until you spot him. He's older, emanating authority as he takes note of your vitals. Dark grey curls, rough stubble, biceps so large that you want to eat sushi off of them. Fuck.
"Um, leaving the stage, it was dark and I slipped," you point towards your sparkly boots, "thanks toāum, these bad boys." It comes out more sluggish than you hoped.
He chuckles, his hands coming to survey any external damage on your leg, "Yeah that'll do it." He looks up at Shen, "No CT, her leg is internally rotated, pain when. Posterior hip dislocation." His fingers travel up to where your skirt is bunched up around your hip.
You think you hear the heart monitor start speeding up. You groan again.
"Is the morphine not helping?" Dr. Shen asks as he checks the monitors, ready to order for the nurse to push more.
You blink lazily, murmuring out a "No, I just look like a mess in front of this hot ass doctor." What you said doesn't register until a few seconds later, but you're too tired to care. The room is silent for a moment, nothing but beeping and the faint chatter outside keeping the room from being completely quiet.
Dr. Ellis chortles before sliding off her gloves, "I think you got this one, Abbot. Come find me after miss espresso is done, Shen."
Dr. Abbot clears his throat, "Okay, let's get ready to do the Captain Morgan technique for hip reduction." Maybe it's the morphine, but his cheeks look like they have a pink hue to them.
Dr. Shen places a stool by the bed next to his colleague, "This is gonna be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better in no time." He grasps onto you firmly, giving Dr. Abbot a nod, "Stabilizing her pelvis."
You snort, pointing at your new crush as he places his foot to get better leverage on the bed. "He can stabilize my pelvis anytime," you whisper.
"What was that?" Dr. Abbot asks, watching as Dr. Shen turns nearly purple from trying to hold in his laughter. This was so going in the group chat.
Damn, that was supposed to be an inside thought.
You don't respond as every nerve in your body is electrified when he places his hands firmly on your leg, lifting it up and nearly bending it over his shoulder. You let out a shaky exhale because it's not everyday that a hot doctor is spreading your legs to relocate your hip.
"Ready?" He asks, mainly towards Dr. Shen, but you don't miss the way his eyes meet yours as he takes a deep breath in, hands kneading at your thigh.
Dr. Shen was right, this is uncomfortable, but more so the fact that now you're incredibly more turned on than in pain at the moment. You want to laugh realizing how ridiculous this would look to anyone walking by the transparent doors. Rhinestone boot thrown over the shoulder of the rugged attending doctor in the PTMC.
"Ready, Abbot."
He nods, pressing his weight down into the side of your hip, waiting for it to click back into place. At the satisfying POP! of your hip, he releases his grip, allowing your leg to finally move freely. He watches you flop your leg into a normal position, satisfied grin taking over.
You sigh at the instant release, no longer immobilzed by the joint. "I will say," wiggling your hips to regain feeling, "I've never tried that one before."
At that, Dr. Shen can no longer hold in his laughter as practically cries out. He's leaning down on the edge of the computer, full hysterics consuming him. When he's semi-done, he wipes stray tears from his eyes, "This is why you're my favorite artist."
Before you can thank him for the much needed flattery, the trauma doors swing open again, but this time it's Sophie who rushes in. She looks exhausted, L.L Bean tote about to fall off her shoulders as she reaches to grab your hand.
"Oh thank god, are you okay?" She looks to both doctors for any sort of confirmation that you are perfectly in tact, "Is she alright now?" Sophie turns back to you, hands coming onto your face to examine you up close. You feel like a rag doll with everyone throwing you around.
Dr. Abbot stands with his hands behind his back next to Dr.Shen, eyes tracing your figure as subtle as he can. Which isn't subtle at all. "Dislocated hip, did a quick manuever to put it back into place so she should be okay to go home after we give you the discharge papers," he nods at you before adding, "ā¦ She's also a little high off of some morphine we gave her for her pain."
"Soph don't worry, I'm fine," you smile. You try throwing her a low-key wink, but it ends up coming out very cartoonish, "I was in great hands."
Her eyes glance over to Dr. Abbot,who is having a hard time not getting flustered at your comments, and then back to you. By the one comment she has witnessed, she knows she's going to have you at her hotel door in the morning ready to knock back a few mimosas to forget what happened in the E.R tonight.
"Wait! Sophie before we go we haveee to give them tickets to my next show," you point at Shen, "ā¦he's a huge fan and he basically helped save the tour."
Dr. Shen looks like he could faint. Or vomit. One of them will happen sooner or later.
You look at Dr. Abbot, mouth opening before you can stop, "ā¦Make sure the sexy doctor gets one, too."
Sophie looks embarrassed for you, one hand rubbing at her temple because she hopes this man doesn't have a wife. Or at the very least a daughter that listens to you. She's about to dismiss you, blame your words on the drugs or that you're running off of 4 hours of sleep when Abbot smiles.
He throws his non-sterile gloves in the trash, opening the door with his back as he steps out and nods,"See you at the show."
the three times you couldn't sleep // jack abbot pt. 1
You are convinced Jack only sees you as a friend, but behind his cool exterior is a man fighting a losing battle against his own desires. Across three restless nights, the boundaries of your friendship are tested as Jack struggles to decide if being happy and falling for someone who makes him feel human again is worth the risk.
genre: doctor jack x bookseller! reader, friends to lovers, age gap, rom com because i think i'm funny, eventual smut 18+ nsfw
(a/n: ahhh yes. the time has come for a new series for meee. i started a new job, so I haven't been able to write as much, but this one came to me while I was daydreaming at work the other day lol. let me know if you want to be tagged, this will be a three part series!)
āThis fucking duvet.ā
You flung the bulky thing off your legs, the fabric suffocating against your skin. You flipped the pillow, searching for a cold side that didn't exist. But it was useless the stuffing was flat, and every position felt wrong.
You looked over at your cat curled into a perfect, peaceful sleeping crescent in her tower. āGive me your powers, Luna.āĀ
Twisting onto your side, you reached for your phone. The screenās glare was blinding in the dark.
5:00 AM.
Jack would be finishing his shift at the ER right about now. You pictured him: the black scrubs, the hair a little messy after twelve hours of chaos, and those tired, kind eyes. Heād be exhausted. You shouldnāt bother him.
But the restlessness won. You hit the call button anyway, your thumb acting before your brain could protest. You weren't actually expecting him to answer. The plan was to leave a goofy, sleep deprived voicemail about your vendetta against your bedding and call it a day. Youād give him something to laugh at on his walk home.
The first ring echoed in your ear. Then a second.
You were already inhaling to start your "Hey, itās me, don't mind the 5 AM rambling" speech when the line clicked.
Before you could even start your planned monologue, his voice came through the speaker.
āYou know, people usually wait until the sun is up to start harassing me,ā Jack said. āOr are you just calling to check if Iāve survived the night? Because Iāll have you know, a toddler sneezed directly into my eyeball around midnight, so thereās that.ā
The mental image of the professional Dr. Abbot being taken down by a toddler caught you completely off guard.
A sound escaped you that was anything but graceful. A loud, snorting, unrestricted honk of a laugh. It was the kind of ugly, wheezing laugh you reserved for private, but in your sleep deprived state, it slipped.
On the other end of the line, Jack let out a soft laugh of his own.
āGod, Iām sorry,ā you wheezed as you rolled onto your back. āI didnāt actually expect you to pick up. I was going to leave you a weird message about my flat pillows.ā
āLucky for me I beat the voicemail, then.ā You could hear his footsteps against pavement and the distant chirp of a morning bird. āIām just walking home. Shift ended a bit ago. I had to come in early yesterday to help with an emergency event so they relieved me earlier than usual.ā
āOh Iām sorry Jack.ā The reality of his job and your current problem was sobering. Heād been up all night attending to people in need and youāre pissed about flip flopping in bed. āAre you okay?ā
āIām better now. The walk is quiet. And I have a strange girl laughing in my ear. Itās a good way to end the day. Or I guess start it.ā Jackās voice drifted through the line, you could hear his boots crunching on the pavement. āTo what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you this early? Has Luna been meowing for treats all night or are you just missing me?ā You could see his smirk so clearly in your head now. And it sent flutters through your belly without warning.
āI wish it was the cat,ā you sighed, shifting on your bed and trying to find a spot on your sheets that wasn't uncomfortably warm. āI just canāt sleep. Iāve tried everything. Counting sheep, white noise, flipping the pillow for the fiftieth time. I think itās because I spent all day yesterday researching new books to stock the shelves with. Now, every time I close my eyes, all I see are SKUs, publisher prices, and ISBN barcodes dancing behind my eyelids.ā
Jack hummed. āThe hazards of the trade. Speaking of can you set aside the new V.E. Schwab book for me? Iāll come get it Saturday. Iām off. You working then?ā
A small smile tugged at your lips. āYou already know Iāve set it aside for you. Itās been sitting behind the counter with your name on it for three days. And just so you know, when you finish it, Iāll be expecting a full thesis from you because I finished it and I've had to keep my big mouth shut to avoid spoiling it for you.ā
Jack laughed. āA thesis? I can do it.ā
āYou better,ā you teased. āAnd yes, Iām working Saturday. Bright and early. Can you come on my lunch break? I want to actually be able to sit and talk with you. I miss you.ā
There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. āI know. Iām sorry about that. Things got hectic at work. Weāve got a crop of new residents on the night shift that need a lot of hand holding. And,ā he hesitated for a fraction of a second, āIāve taken up some SWAT shifts as well.ā
The teasing mood evaporated instantly. Your brow furrowed, a knot of cold anxiety tightening in your chest. āI donāt like that one bit.ā
āYeah,ā Jack said softly, his voice tinged with a guilty sort of honesty. āThatās why I didnāt tell you.ā
āSo now Iām awake because Iām mad at you.ā you said, though the edge it it had softened.
āDonāt do me like that,ā Jack countered. āYou know Iām fucked up and donāt know how to quit.ā
That had you going quiet for a bit. You stared up at the dark ceiling.
Jack was a sensitive soul who had spent a lifetime building a fortress around his heart. He stayed sane by thrusting himself into situations that forced him to remain focused on objectives because if he focused on that, he didn't have to focus on the person.Ā
He could minimize feeling by being useful.
It was his greatest strength and his most exhausting flaw. Case in point: being an ER doctor meant seeing some of the gnarliest shit imaginable. To save a life, he had to remove his own human emotions in the moment. But the problem with it was that habit of detachment had leaked into his everyday life, a slow acting poison.
He was working hard to unlearn that. He was trying to let himself feel the messy, inconvenient parts of life again. And most of all, the parts that included you. But then heād go and sign up for SWAT shifts, retreating back into the safety of high stakes but emotionally simple.
āI know itās a cliche and you hate to hear it and obviously Iāve told you this many times, but youāre not aloneā you reminded him, clutching the phone a little tighter. āYouāre talking to someone who cares for you always. Even if it is little old me. That counts for something.ā
āIt counts for everything.ā he said softly.
Jack cleared his throat, the sound slightly muffled as he shifted the phone. āIām about five minutes from my house. Iām going to tell you about everything Iām seeing and hearing. What I want you to do is set your phone on the nightstand and close your eyes. Just focus on my words. Nothing else.ā
You let out a sleepy, skeptical huff, your head sinking deeper into the flat pillow. āNot going to work, Jack. But okay.ā
āOh, ye of little faith.ā he murmured, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.
You did as you were told, fumbling to set the phone down and rolling onto your side. You squeezed your eyes shut.
āThe sun is just starting to bleed through the clouds,ā Jack began. āItās that pale blue color of early morning. Thereās a breeze hitting the oaks on 4th Street. You can hear the leaves rubbing together. Thereās a guy three houses down, heās already out in his driveway. Heās wearing an old cardigan and fumbling with his keys, getting into a beat up blue sedan..ā
As he spoke, the world began to dissolve. You weren't in your sweltering room anymore. You were walking beside him in the crisp morning air. You listened to the description of a bird landing on a fence post, the smell of someone doing early morning laundry, and the thump of his boots on the sidewalk.
Suddenly, it worked. Your mind stopped racing to keep up with the world and started to drift. Your eyelids felt heavy.
The last thing you felt was the sheets and the fading sound of his voice. Just as the darkness claimed you, you swore you heard a whisper.
āSweet dreams, sweetheart.ā
The line went silent, but the warmth of the words stayed, tucked under your heart as you finally drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
ā¦
Saturday morning at the bookstore was busy enough. Your feet were already starting to ache and you had seven hours left in the shift. You were restocking a display of new releases, but your eyes kept drifting to the large front window.
Then you saw him. Jack was walking up the sidewalk. "Here comes your boyfriend," your coworker muttered from behind the register, her voice dripping with amusement.
You didn't even turn around, though you felt your cheeks heating. "Not my boyfriend," you snapped, attempting to look busy with a stack of paperbacks.
"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say."
The bell above the door gave a chime as Jack stepped inside. Even with the shop crawling with customers, the air seemed to shift the moment he arrived. You didn't stay behind the display. You abandoned the books and walked around the counter, meeting him halfway near the back of the fiction section.
Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his waist in a huge hug. Jack froze for a heartbeat before he finally let out a long breath and wrapped his arms around you. When he squeezed back, it was the best feeling in the world. You leaned your head against his chest, closing your eyes and breathing him in. He smelled like clean laundry and the faint, lingering scent of the outdoors.
You were one step away from your fingers twisting into the hair at the base of his neck, but then you caught sight of your coworker over his shoulder. She was staring at you, shamelessly making a lewd hand gesture with a shit eating grin.
Your face went hot. You reached out a hand and flicked her off, then quickly disentangled yourself from Jack, steering him toward the counter. You reached under the register and pulled out the book he had requested.
"I hope you have no plans tonight," you told him, sliding the book across the wood, "because you won't be putting this down."
Jack reached for his wallet and laughed. "None at all. Reading this and rotting on the couch all day."
"My dream date. And you know that." you jested, leaning your elbows on the counter.
Jackās eyes sparkled at that. He knew exactly what you were doing because youād been flirting with him since the day you met. Heād flirted back from time to time, brief flashes of heat in his gaze or a hand lingering on your shoulder, but heād never fully allowed himself to sink into it.
As he watched you ring him up, a thousand factors blew through his mind. The biggest one was the twenty year age gap. It still shocked him sometimes. Youād joked once about bridging the gap between generations, and while heād laughed, it slightly hit a nerve. He was older, more cynical, more broken by the things heād seen.
But then he looked at you.
You were beautiful. Gorgeous, really. His mind flashed back to that concert youād begged him to go to. He remembered the way his jaw had nearly hit the floor when you showed up at his house in that outfit. He might be getting older, but he was still a man, and heād spent the entire night looking everywhere but at your legs just to keep from pitching a tent in his pants.
He valued your friendship more than almost anything. But hearing you say you cared for him the other night.. Would it be so bad to let himself fall? he wondered. Would it really be the worst thing in the world to just be happy?
"Come on," you said, breaking his train of thought as you handed him his bag. "Let's go outside and sit on the patio. It feels nice."
You grabbed your sweater and started pulling him towards the side doors. Before you stepped out, you looked over your shoulder at your coworker. "I'm taking my break," you called out firmly. "Don't bother us!"
You could hear Jack laughing as he followed you out the door.Ā
warnings: neighbor!reader, age gaps (40-50 year old men + 20+ year old woman), wet dreams, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mentions of potential dvp, minor orgasm control, face fucking/oral (m!receiving), pussy fingering (scissoring), squirting, three way kiss, masturbation, semi-established relationship, forced eye contact, piv
w/c: 9.4k
notes: there needs to be more threesomes guys. shout out to the two people who inspired me for this. (in no way is this related to the scenes involved or the season as a whole, also letās pretend what happened with al-hashimi didnāt happen)
Jack Abbot.
Jack fucking Abbot.
God, the man he is.
You first notice him because of that stupid door.
More specifically, because he always leaves just as youāre getting back. So you have two whole minutes of admiring Jack as you make your way to your apartment. Itās become a rhythm, three months of you stepping off the elevator and walking around him for him to get on.
-saturday, january 5th-
Youāre locking your apartment door, half awake and trying to balance your backpack, your keys, and the travel mug you definitely overfilled, when you hear the soft ding of the elevator across the hall.
Quickly, you glance at your reflection in the gloss of your tumbler, squinting a few times to ensure you didnāt look you came from hell and back. In a rush of trying to look presentable, you somehow unlocked and locked your door twice, intently listening for the familiar tired footsteps.
Jack steps out the elevator just as you turn around, and for a second your brain forgets how to function.
Still in scrubs, eyes heavy with the exhaustion of a long shift in a way that somehow made him even more hot. He pauses when he sees you, like he wasnāt expecting anyone to be awake at this hour.
āOh.. hey,ā he speaks, voice low and hushed like he was trying to be as quiet as possible.
You blink, trying not to stare. āHi.ā
It comes out softer than you meant and you mentally scold yourself. But he doesnāt seem to mind. You linger by the safety of your door, nibbling on your bottom lip as he steps across the hallway to his own apartment.
He shifts his bag on his shoulder, setting it down for a moment to grab his keys. āYou heading out?ā
You nod quickly. āYeah. Uh, class.ā
He pauses for a moment, swinging his apartment door open just enough for you to catch a quick glimpse inside. āGrad school?ā He asks, looking over his shoulder at you.
Nearly giving yourself a concussion with how fast you nodded, cheeks warming. āYeah.ā
He gives a small, tired unfairly attractive smile. āImpressive. I can barely keep my eyes open after a shift.ā
You donāt know what to say to that, so you just smile back, your own legs forcing you to step towards the elevator to save yourself from any embarrassment. āIāll uhmā Iāll see you around.ā
You donāt miss the way his eyes follow you until you round the corner, ducking into the seclusion of the elevator. Youāre forced to stand and replay that interaction for three floors until you step out into the lobby. Getting into your car, hands shaking just a little you pull out of the lot, and only one thought hits you so hard you have to laugh at yourself.
Wow.
You are in so much trouble.
-sunday, january 12th-
Youāre tiptoeing down the hallway, keys in hand, trying not to wake the entire building as you come back from your friendās place. Itās early, way too early to even be coming home. Youāre beyond exhausted in that warm, slightly delirious way that comes from staying up way later than you meant to.
Youāre halfway to your door when you hear the elevator door open behind you.
You freeze for a second, eyes closing tight like if you hadnāt moved you wouldnāt notice him. Then he speaks.
āOh, hey neighbor.ā You slowly turn around, giving him a small smile as you tried not to focus too much on the sight of him.
When his eyes land on you, something in his expression softens as he makes his way to his door. You clutch your keys a little tighter, nodding at him before snapping your head to the lock hole as you rush to unlock the damn door. āHi.ā
He glances at your bag, eyes dipping a little lower to where the bag rested against your hip, then back up at you. āLong night?ā
Your face heats instantly, looking over at him to where he lingered by his doorframe. āNo, Iā yeah. I was justā¦ I was at a friendās. Helping her study for this huge exam.ā
āMmm.ā He hums lowly, tilting his head at you with a grin. āHow do you think sheāll do?ā
You puff your cheeks at his answer, looking up at the ceiling for some divine answer. You werenāt sure if you were hoping for this conversation to be cut off short or for it to keep going. āI hope she aces it. Or otherwise, I guess Iām not a good study buddy.ā
He lets out a short chuckle at that, sending your stomach into tiny bursts of flutters. āIām sure sheāll do great.ā
You nod, trying not to stare at him, despite the literal magnetic pull towards. āYeah, uh-huh.ā
He seems to catch it, but thankfully, doesnāt comment on it. He nods toward your semi-unlocked door, giving you a once over, and thereās something in the way he looks at you. Maybe youāre hallucinating, maybe itās the lack of sleep catching up to you, but there was something almostā¦ dark about how his gaze lingered. āIāll let you get your rest then.ā
You finally get your key to fully unlock the door, hands fumbling to push and he watches with an amused look. You push the door open, then turn back to him. āYou too.ā
He gives you that soft, crooked smile, holding your gaze until the door closed behind you. You lean against it, crouching down as your heart pounded like youād just ran a marathon.
Youāre so screwed.
-friday, february 7th-
One month.
One whole month of pure torture.
Every day you bumped into Jack. Before his shift, after his shift, days when he was off (which was rare), but not a day went by without you seeing him. Often times, you found yourself wanting to bump into more and more, just for a quick conversation, just to see the way the fatigue of the day weighed down on him in the same irritable way.
The closer it got to May the more irritated you got. You were never a fan of the heat, but it seemed like the universe was definitely torturing you. Everywhere you went all you could see is Jack. On the street. In the hallway. In your fucking dreams.
It was awful. You had to confide to your friend about your problem, and of course her only solution was to jump his bones. It wasnāt fair. Night and day, all you could do was think of him. Nights were, admittedly, the hardest part of your day.
His voice replayed over and over again. His smile, his smell, his everything.
The way his calloused hands would feel against your skin, how heād undress you slowly, taking time to savor and touch in the way youād need. The warmth of his mouth against your neck, your stomach, your hips, biting and kissing in between your thighs. The stretch of having him finally slip inside you, and you wondered how heād actually fuck you. Would he do it nice and slow? Would he let out all his pent up energy after a long shift? Would he use his tongue or his cock?
It was awful, and you felt so guilty, but the thoughts didnāt stop. And honestly, you didnāt try to stop them.
-saturday, february 22nd-
You donāt even remember the exact moment it happened. One second you were distracted, walking down the stairs with your friend as she boasted about how she passed her exam, the next you were overwhelmed with the sharp pain rushing up your leg. The sudden jolt of heat stopped you in your path, vision blurred as you gripped onto the railing to keep from falling over.
Your friend insisted on driving you to hospital, refusing to call the ambulance because the last thing you needed was to pay thousands of dollars on a ten minute drive. Now youāre sitting on a gurney in a curtained bay, ankle throbbing, nerves buzzing and head swimming with every possible negative.
Hospitals were always chaotic, and of course, being alone made it worse, but your friend had no intention of leaving you alone. A nurse finishes wrapping an ice pack around your ankle. āSomeone will be with you soon, sweetheart. Just try to relax.ā
You nod, but your chest is tight. Your friend rests her hand over your own, giving you some support through the silence. Coughing, machines beeping, people crying, people complaining, doctors and nurses yelling out patient statuses; it was a building of anxiety. Youāre trying to breathe through it when you hear footsteps outside, then a voice.
āWhoās in six?ā
You freeze.
You know that voice. Thatās the very voice of the man whoās been plaguing your dreams all week. The curtain pulls back, and Jack steps inside, chart in hand, hair slightly messy from hours of work, scrubs wrinkled, eyes heavy.
He looks up from the chart, giving you a quick look before glancing at your friend beside you.
Everything in him stops. His brows lift, confusion flickering into recognition, then into concern. āWhat happened?ā
He steps closer immediately, chart lowering to his side. Your friend glances between the two of you, and by the way your breath catches, her lips curl up into a smirk. āOh, is thisāā
You quickly interrupt her, pinching the side of her hand before she could say a thing else. āIāI just twisted my ankle. My friend, Hailey, brought me.ā
He casts her another glance, giving her a polite smile before looking at your ankle. He gently lifts the ice pack, examining it closely. āYou hurt anywhere else?ā
You shake your head. āJust my ankle.ā
He crouches beside the bed, he examines the swelling. His touch is careful, doing his best to not add to the pain. āDoes this hurt?ā He asks, pressing lightly, looking up at your face.
You wince, pulling your ankle away from him. āYeah.ā
His sucks in a slow breath, rubbing his brow as he stands up right again. āOkay. Im hoping itās just a sprain, butttā¦ letās do an X-ray just to be sure, alright?ā He rests a hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring pat. Hailey looks down at his hand, eyebrows raised and lips pursed as she glanced up towards you.
Your face warms instantly, giving him a silent nod. He steps back, checking something in the chart, before moving towards the curtain. āThank you, Hailey, for bringing her in.ā
At the sound of her name, she instantly perks up, nodding all too eagerly. āOf courseee, Doc.ā He smiles at the two of you, ducking out of the room and you watch him walk away. Your pulse is racing, and your ankle is definitely not the only thing throbbing. Your friend turns to you with wide eyes, shaking your arm in disbelief.
āWhat the fuck?! Thatās Jack? Heās hot.ā She loudly whispers to which you quickly smack her arm.
āI know.ā
-6:50 pm-
The boot feels heavier than it looked in the ER. Every step is clumsy, awkward, and a little embarrassing, especially with Jack walking right beside you, one hand hovering near your elbow like heās ready to catch you at any second.
āYou sure youāre okay?ā he asks for the third time as you reach the apartment building.
You nod, even though youāve been more focused on the feeling of his fingers grazing against your arm. āYeah. Justā¦ slow.ā
He chuckles slightly. āSlow is fine.ā
He opens the front door for you, then waits for the elevator with you, keeps a firm grip on your elbow just in case. Youāre hyperāaware of everythingā his warmth, his presence, his attention, his hands.
By the time you reach your floor, youāre out of breath and flustered for reasons that have nothing to do with the injury.
When you reach your apartment, you fumble with your keys to which he just gently plucks them from your hand. āHere,ā he murmurs. āI got it.ā
He unlocks your door and pushes it open, then turns back to you, one hand hovering behind you. You step inside, and he follows just far enough to make sure you donāt trip on the threshold.
āDo you need anything before I go?ā He asks, taking a look around while you have your back turned to him as he set the keys down on key holder against the wall. āWater? Pain meds? Food? I can grab something on my way back.ā
You blink, turning around to look at him as he leans against the doorframe. āYouāreā¦ youāre going back to work?ā
He shakes his head with a small frown. āJust need to finish charting.ā He paused at the look on your face, scratching the back of his neck. āDo youā¦ want me to come after?ā
You look up at him, thinking of the question because the obvious answer was yes, but for some reason the word wouldnāt come out of your mouth. āI donātā you should probably rest. I can handle it.ā
His eyes linger on you as you limp toward the couch, and heās instantly moving, hand back against the small of your back. When you sit, he kneels in front of you, eyes glued on your face as his hand instinctively rests on your calf.
āDoes it hurt?ā
āA little.ā
He nods, looking down at your foot before turning his attention back to you. āKeep it elevated. Ice every few hours. And donāt walk on it more than you have to.ā
You nod back at him, looking down at your booted foot. āYes, sir.ā
He blinks slowly, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your nose and down to the small pout on your lips. He clears his throat, standing up again and quickly adjusting his pants. āIāll check on you later,ā he says finally. āJust text me if you need anything.ā
You look up at him through your eyelashes, titling your head in confusion. āI donāt have your number.ā
He pulls his phone from his pocket, handing it to you. You blink once, looking down at his phone as he motions to it. Your fingers brush his when you take it, and he freezes for half a second, just long enough for you to feel it.
You type your number in, hand it back, and he gives you the same crooked grin that makes your throat tighten up. āGet some rest,ā he says, backing toward the door.
āI will.ā
He hesitates in the doorway, eyes lingering on you as you leaned against the couch, propping your foot up on a pillow. He closes the door with a soft click, letting out a heavy exhale, as he glances down at the half chub in his scrubs. He quietly readjusts himself, stepping back towards the elevator.
-sunday, february 23rd-
Thereās a knock at your door just after eleven, he had sent you a quick text telling you when heād be over, so you came prepared on unlocking the door beforehand. He was about fifteen minutes late, and heāll admit, he got a bitā¦. a head of himself.
Seeing you all vulnerable left him in a way. He spent the rest of the shift sporting half a boner, which eventually turned into an actual boner once he was home. Turns out having a boner for longer than thirty minutes really puts stress on a man.
Youāre still in your oversized shirt, boot propped up on the same yellow pillow, tv playing the latest episode of your personal favorite show. āCome in.ā You call out from the comfortable position you were in, and after a minute, he carefully pushes the door in.
Hair a little messy and damp from the shower he took, scrubs swapped for a Tāshirt and sweats, he steps into the living room, kicking the door shut behind him. He lifts a small paper bag in one hand. āThought Iād check on your ankle,ā he approaches the couch as you sit up to move to give him room but he gently stops you, keeping your foot propped up. āAnd I brought something to eat. Just in case you havenāt had anything yet.ā
āOh, wow, thanks. You didnāt have to.ā
He sets the bag down on the coffee table, pulling out two deli sandwiches as he wipes his hands on his pants. He kneels beside your feet, one hand propped against the armrest as he studies the boot again.
āHowās it feeling?ā He asks quietly, gently resting his hand on the boot.
āBetter,ā you sigh, wiggling your toes after he points to them. āStill sore.ā
He nods, checking the straps and making sure there wasnāt much swelling.
āLooks good,ā he murmurs. āLetās just keep that ice on it tonight, mkay?ā
You nod quickly, sitting up as he grabs the ice pack that shifted onto the pillow, examining it before looking at you. āOh, uhm, my fridge is just behind this wall.ā Pointing behind you, he stands up with the melted ice pack in hand, patting your head as he ducked around the corner to put the pack back to freeze. You can faintly hear him shuffling around in your kitchen, opening the freezer door and moving some things. Youāre suddenly very self conscious, and you have to remind yourself that you were lucky he came on a day where youād already done some heavy grocery shopping.
Then he makes his way back to you, crouching over to carefully tuck a frozen bag of mixed berries over your ankle. āKeep taking it easy, donāt wanna put too much weight and exertion on this leg.ā
You nod, subtly peeking through your eyelashes to glance at his sweatpants as he turned to grab one of the wrapped sandwiches. āI will.ā
He motions to the sandwich in his hand, then nodding his chin to the other one. āThis one is for lunch, the other one is for breakfast tomorrow.ā You listen to him intently, reaching out for the sandwich as he extends his arm out to you. Your fingertips graze against his open palm, the calloused warmth is the exact same as when youāve dreamt of it.
He hesitates, just another second, lifting his finger in the air before grabbing the extra sandwich on the coffee table. āIāll put this away for you.ā He disappears back towards the kitchen, leaning back against the arm rest you peek around the wall, trying to catch a glimpse of him as he walks away.
Hearing his footsteps, you immediately lean away, unwrapping the sandwich as if you werenāt completely ogling him. His hands come together in a quiet clap, nodding at the sight of you taking a bite of the pastrami sandwich. āYou good?ā
You look up at him again, chewing slowly before giving him another nod. āāM good. Thanks.ā He smiled slightly, resting a firm hand on the side of your neck as he leans down just enough to press a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Itās barely anything. Just something friendly. But you nearly choke on the bite of food already in your mouth.
āIāll check on you tomorrow.ā He reminds in a hushed voice, patting the arm rest as he pulled.
You look up at him, cheeks warm. āOkay.ā
He gives you a smirk, the one that makes your stomach flip every time, then heads for the door. āRest.ā He repeats, hand on the knob.
āI will.ā
He leaves, the door clicking softly behind him, and you sink back into the couch, heart pounding, head still tingling where he kissed you.
-thursday, may 8th-
Your ankle is finally healed, two and a half months of long awaited bliss. Those two months went by incredibly slow, between Hailey and Jack checking in on you, you werenāt sure how long youād last. Though you hadnāt complained over having to see Jack twice a day while you were healing.
No boot, no limp, total freedom. Youāre carrying a small bag of groceries down the hall when you hear voices near Jackās door.
One of them is his. The other is unfamiliar, lower, gravely, definitely not the same tired as Jack usually sounds after a shift.
You round the corner just as Jack steps out of his apartment with another guy beside him. The stranger is tall, sharpāfeatured, wearing a hoodie and a frame of glasses that had you doing a quick double take.
Jack sees you before his friend does.
āOh, hey.ā He greets softly, voice softening ever so slightly, eyes following you as pass the two of them. You smile slowly, lips curling up into a shy smile, nodding at Jack.
āHi.ā
The stranger looks between the two of you, eyebrows lifting just slightly. He leans toward Jack, whispering something just quiet enough that you couldnāt really her. You look at the two of them curiously, eyebrows furrowing at the slight scolding look Jack gave his friend.
Robby steps forward, offering a large hand. āIām Robby. I work with this guy.ā
You glance down at his extended hand, balancing the brown bag in one arm as you eagerly shake his hand. His hand envelopes your own in a firm, calloused shake. āHi, Robby, nice to meet you.ā You speak politely, savoring the feel of his name on your tongue, and he clearly doesnāt mind how it sounds, giving you a pleased grin.
Jack clears his throat, stepping closer to you like heās trying to subtly insert himself between you and Robbyās ācuriosityā. āHowās the ankle?ā
You blink once at him, nodding before carefully bending down to lift up the bottom of your jeans, making a show of rotating and moving your ankle. āGood! Really good. Iām back to normal.ā Robby takes the opportunity to catch a good look at you as youāre focused on showing Jack your ankle, whoās stuck looking between what youāre showing him and the curve of your ass.
Both their attention snaps back up to your face as you stand up straight again, looking at the two of them with that sweet little smile. āGlad to hear it.ā Jack says gently, and Robby just steps back, watching the interaction with obvious interest.
āSo youāre the neighbor.ā He speaks, nodding like everything makes sense now that he put the puzzle together. You tilt your head at the enunciation towards ātheā, but give him an another eager smile anyways.
āOh, yeah. Thatās me.ā
Robbyās grin darkens, arms crossing over his chest. āYeah? Jackās mentioned you.ā
Jackās head snaps toward him. āRobby.ā
āWhat?ā Robby says innocently. āYou have. Sorry to hear about your ankle, sweetheart. Glad youāre better.ā
Robbyās studying your face, watching the way your smile twitches into a coy little look. āThank you,ā you shift your grocery bag, lingering by them for a moment before taking a hesitant step towards your door. āWellā¦ it was nice meeting you, Robby. I should probablyāā
Jack steps forward, eyeing Robby as he watches with a smug smile, reaching out for the overfilled bag. āHere, let me.ā He holds the bag in one hand, patiently waiting for you to unlock your apartment door and swing it open.
āThanks.ā You turn to him with a flutter of your lashes, reaching out for the bag again as he stands there, physically struggling to look away.
You slip inside, offering a shy wave to both of them before closing the door, and Robby has to grab Jack by the shoulder to tear his eyes away. The second the door clicks shut, Robby turns to Jack with a small chuckle.
āOh yeahhh,ā he nods in approval, squeezing Jackās shoulder. āI get it now.ā Jack laughs breathlessly, tucking his hands into his pockets.
āNo wonder youāve been in a good mood lately.ā
-wednesday, may 14th-
Itās late afternoon, the kind of summer heat that comes in waves and makes everyone easily irritated. Jack and Robby are standing near Jackās car in the parking lot, talking about something workārelated, or at least Robby is. Jackās halfālistening, halfāzoning out like he always does after a long shift.
Robbyās midāsentence when he suddenly stops.
āBrother?ā
Jack snaps out of his trance, looking away from the piece of chipped paint on the floor. āWhat?ā
Robby tilts his chin toward the sidewalk. āIs that your neighbor?ā
Jackās head literally whips over to where Robby was looking, leaning against the hood of his car.
Youāre walking toward the building, headphones in, sunglasses on, wearing the shortest fucking shorts either of them have ever seen in their life. If it werenāt the shorts that were the problem, that tight tank top did nothing to help, hugging in the right places, pushing just enough of your tits to barely spill out from the top.
Your hair is pulled up off your back, bag slung over your shoulder, and youāre carrying an iced drink thatās already sweating in the heat. Neither one of them say anything, just focused on the sight of Jackās all too cute neighbor walking around with more skin showing than clothes. You spot them from the corner of your eye, pulling out one earbud with a light smile.
āHi there.ā
Jack clears his throat, not even attempting to try to hide his gaze. He did always have great eye contact, just so happened his eye contact shifted from your tits to your actual face. āHey.ā
Robbyās eyes remain on you, giving you a slow smile. āAfternoon.ā
You let out a content sigh, taking another slurp of your refreshment only to catch the attention of both men as your lips wrapped around the straw. āGreat weather weāre having, right?ā You slipped your sunglasses off, tucking the arm into the middle of your tanktop. The subtle motion caught Robbyās attention, who gave Jack a quick nudge for his friend to indulge in the sight.
āYou look like youāre enjoying the weather.ā Robby says. Your lips curl into a knowing smile, looking between both men as you catch their peeks towards your cleavage.
You laugh softly. āTrying to. Itās so hot out.ā You lifted your free hand to fan yourself, letting out a tired huff.
āYou coming back from somewhere?ā Jack asks, voice a little rougher than usual.
āJust the park,ā you looked over your shoulder to where you came from. āThought Iād get some sun.ā
Robby smirks. āMission accomplished.ā
You snicker at him, one hand reaching out to playfully nudge him by his arm. Jackās eyes instantly magnetized to your hand, watching in slow motion as your palm touched Robbyās sleeve.
āWellā¦ I should head in. It was nice seeing you both. Jack, Robby.ā You grab your sunglasses, slipping them back on before give them last look over the rim of the glasses, lips curled into a bright smile. The two of them watch in silence as you make your way into the building, sunlight catching on your shoulders like something out of a movie.
The second youāre out of earshot, Robby lets out a low whistle.
āHoly shit.ā
āTell me ābout it.ā
Robby shakes his head in disbelief, crossing his arms as he turned to look at Jack. āIf you donāt make a move, I will.ā
-saturday, may 17th-
Youāre halfway through folding laundry when you hear a knock at your door, somewhere between a frantic and polite knock. You wipe your hands on your shorts, pushing the basket aside before making your way towards the door.
Jackās there.
He looks like he came straight from a shower, hair a little mussed, skin faintly damp, eyes dilated and focused. Heās in a loose grey shirt, and sweatpants, hands shoved into his pockets like heās trying to keep them still.
āHey.ā He speaks softly, one hand coming out from the pocket to rub at the side of his jaw. āSorry to botherā¦ can Iā¦?ā
You instantly nod, stepping aside to let him in. āYeah. Of course.ā
He steps inside when you move back, turning back to you as you closed the door. He stares at you for a moment too long before looking around the room to figure out the right words.
He hesitates, looking up at the ceiling as he scratches the back of his head. He exhales slowly, shaking his head as you take a small step toward him. āIāve beenā hmmā¦ I thought about this before, and I justā¦ I just wanna see whatāll happen.ā
You stand by the doorway, taking another small step towards him as you watched every emotion flicker on his face. āJack?ā
At the sound of his voice, he lets out something between a groan and a sigh, running his hand down his face. Once youāre within armās length, he reaches up, hand wrapping around your wrist to tug you closer. He gives you the chance to step back or to pull away, maybe he was giving himself the chance to change his mind. But you donāt move, staring up at him with those wide eyes, face painted in confusion.
His fingers brush your cheek, palm coming to cup your jaw. You nervously swallow the lump in your throat, eyes glued onto his face as he leaned forward. You look down at his lips, your focus diverting from his eyes to the fact that you can almost count each individual stubble on his face.
You subconsciously lean forward, your faces just within an inch from each other. His hand falls down to rest against the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your pulse point, a small smile slipping on his lips at the increase of your heartbeat. āNervous?ā He whispers, words falling into a caress against your lips. You shake your head slightly, lips parting as he moved in close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.
āYou sure?ā His eyebrows furrow just ever so slightly.
You nod. āYeah. Iām sure.ā
He leans in slowly, like he was trying to test the moment and savor it all at once. You donāt move away, eyes fluttering close at the warmth of his lips against yours. The kiss is soft at first, the languid movement of lips on lips whose only mission is to just feel. To savor the feeling of your lips against his, taking the opportunity to fully test the waters.
The slowness is over longer than it lasted, because as soon as you lean into him, arms lifting and wrapping around his neck, thatās all it takes. His other hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, as his tongue pressed inside your mouth deepening the kiss in a way that made your knees weak. He exhales against your mouth, a quiet desperate shaky sigh, or maybe that was you.
All you could focus on was the feel on his hand roaming your body, large palm sliding down to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. His mouth moves with yours in a slow, hungry rhythm, each second pulling a little more out of him. He leans down without breaking the kiss, one arm tightening around your waist while the other slides lower, tucking under your ass in one smooth motion.
Before you can catch your breath, he lifts you, pulling you closer as you cling to his shoulders. The two of you make sure the kiss doesnāt break, in a heap of limbs, messy lips on lips and dominant tongues. Both of you stumble together toward the couch, too caught up in the buzz of each other to even attempt to pull away.
Thereās a quiet urgency in the way he kisses you, a hot rush of need pushed through the softness, like heās trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the way you gasp against his lips, the way you lean into him. His hand tightens at your waist, guiding you backward against the couch until the two of you come together in a fumble of breathless pants. You break away from the kiss for a quick second, just enough time to suck in a sharp breath before he leans back in for another kiss.
His fingers tighten at your waist, urgency slipping in his actions with pent up need. Caught up in the moment, in the months of tension finally breaking open between you, his lips drag down along your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping at your pulse point.
Youāre still catching your breath, head tilted to the side as his hands trail up under your shirt, seeking skin-on-skin contact. āBeen wanting to do that for months.ā He murmurs against your skin, voice thick with barely concealed lust.
You let out a little breathless whimper as he mouths over a sensitive spot, hands gripping at his arms. āYeahā yeah, I noticed.ā
-sunday, may 25th-
Itās been days since that kiss. It had left your lips warm for hours and your thoughts scrambled for days. Unfortunately, nothing else happened after that night, as much as you wished it had. You havenāt seen Jack since, not really. Just a glimpse of him in the hallways, the sound of his door opening and closing when he left for work, but the two of you sort of chickened out on each other.
So when you step into the hallway after a long day of class, bag in in hand and nearly collide with him, your breath catches.
āHey.ā He greets first, stopping short.
You give him a tiny smile, nodding at him as you slip your bag over your shoulder. āHi..ā
For a second, neither of you moves. He looks at you the way he did right before he kissed you, like heās remembering it and he replaying it in his head.
āYouāve been busy?ā He asks, slipping one hand in his pocket. Casual, like his tongue wasnāt in your mouth a week ago.
āA little, yeah. You?ā
āHard not to be.ā
Thereās a moment of silence, tense and awkward in a way that makes you shift from foot to foot. Jackās apartment door is cracked open, warm summer air drifting in as the sounds of whatever game was playing spilled out into the hallway, along with the occasional groan of whoever was inside. You peeked towards the light pouring from the half closed door, attention snapping to him again as he stepped closer.
āListen, Iāve been meaning toā¦ā he trails off, searching for the right words as his gaze flicked along your face. āI didnāt want you to think I was avoiding you.ā
āI know.ā
āBecause I wasnāt. I justāā he exhales, licking his bottom lip as he looked over his shoulder towards his apartment. āHonestly, Iāve beenā¦ trying to figure out how to talk to you without immediately wanting to kiss you again.ā
āOh.ā
āYeah,ā his teeth catch on his bottom lip, knuckles rubbing against the side of his jaw. āYou arenāt mad, right?ā
āNo, not really. I get it.ā
āDo you want to come in?ā He offers, motioning towards the door, looking hopeful but careful. āJust toā¦ talk. Orā¦ whatever you want.ā
āSure, thanks.ā
He nods, a little too quickly, like heās been waiting to hear that. He takes the book bag from your shoulder without asking, resting one hand on your back as he guided you towards the open door. As you step past him, his palm hovering against your back, he follows close behind you, his stride matching yours.
Jackās apartment is warm in that livedāin way, soft lamplight, a faint smell of detergent, the low hum of his AC unit rattling in the corner and the muffled cheers of the audience when their team scored a point. The place is tidy, simple, in a homey comfort type of way.
Youāre halfway through taking in the room when you notice someone else sitting on the couch.
Robby.
A warning wouldāve been nice, but you were glad today was a day you chose to wear something decent to class and not sweatpants. Jack gently sets your backpack down beside the couch, closing the door behind him as you awkwardly lingered by the armrest of the sofa.
Robbyās kicked back like he owns the place, one arm draped over the back cushion, a halfāfinished beer dangling from his fingers. His boots are crossed at the ankles, and he looks perfectly at home. His attention shifts from the game, eyebrows lifting the second he sees you.
āWell, well,ā Robby grins at you from the top of the can. āItās great to see you again.ā
Jack steps closer to you, not touching, but close enough that you feel the shift before motioning with his chin for you to take a seat. āYou can ignore him.ā Jack mutters, low enough that only you hear it, rubbing your upper arm.
Robby snorts. āYeah, good luck with that,ā he scoots down the couch to give you some room to sit, setting his can down on the coffee table. āYou just get back from class?ā
āYeah. Long day.ā You admit with a heavy sigh, stepping through the small gap of Robbyās legs and coffee table to take the empty space beside him. You look towards the tv, crossing your arms to seem like you werenāt two seconds away from cowering away like a turtle. āWhoās playing?ā
Robby raises a brow at Jack as your attention is on the tv, eyes shifting to the empty space on the left of you silently motioning for his friend to join. āThe Sixers,ā he turns back to you, arm slowly stretching out to the back of the couch where you sat, testing the waters. āDāyou drink?ā
You laugh under your breath, shaking your head quickly. āOh, no, thanks though.ā Jack moves to sit beside you, leaning ever so slightly to the side just so he could fully look at you. You cast quick side glances at both men, studying Jackās posture, Robbyās scent, their warmth, the fact that you were sandwiched by two hot, older guys.
This was a dream and nightmare at the same time.
You can feel Jack scoot closer, just enough that your arms are pressed together. Robbyās hand shifts towards your shoulder, lightly playing with your hair. āSo, tell me everything about grad school. Jackās been very quiet about you. A bit greedy, donāt you think?ā
Maybe itās the dim lighting. Maybe itās the way Jackās knee nudges yours again or the way Robbyās fingers toy with a strand of your hair. But youāre starting to suspect this might get you in trouble. This could either be the best thing ever, or an actual curse.
āIām not greedy,ā jack corrects quickly, voice low enough that itās meant for Robby but close enough that you feel the warmth of it against your shoulder. āI just donāt tell you everything.ā
Robby raises an eyebrow, eyeing you up and down. āYeah, I noticed.ā
He lets the strand of your hair fall, then reaches out to grab the can of beer, eyes flicking between the two of you with way too much interest. āSoo,ā he says again, slower this time, āgrad school?ā
You clear your throat, trying to focus on Robbyās question instead of the way both of them seem to be orbiting you. āWellā¦ Iām in my second year,ā you swallow the lump in your throat, glancing from Jack, to Robby and back at Jack. āItās a lot of clinical hours and late nights, but I like it.ā
Robby nods pretending like heās listening when his eyes are glued onto the curve of your neck, looking back at Jack who couldnāt help but stare at the jeans you were wearing. Robbyās fingers brush your shoulder again, slow and light.
Jack notices immediately. He shifts closer, enough that his arm presses fully against yours now, legs spread just to capture your attention. His hand hovers over the couch behind you, fingers lifting over Robbyās arm to brush along the back of your shoulder.
āSecond yearās no joke,ā Jack agrees quietly, his voice low and warm in your ear. āYouāve been working hard.ā
The praise sends a little spark through you, forcing you to perk up, and Robby catches it instantly.
āOh, sheās definitely been working hard,ā Robby says, hand moving away from your shoulder as he leaned back. āDoesnāt hurt to get physical motivation from a neighbor either.ā
You try to keep talking, but itās impossible not to feel the way both of them are tuned into you. Robby watches you with that amused, knowing expression, Jack sits so close you can feel every breath he takes.
āAnd, umā¦ my professors are great.ā You add, though your voice comes out softer than you meant. Jackās fingers graze your shoulder again, hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck.
Youāre suddenly very aware that neither of them is paying attention to the basketball game anymore. Theyāre both paying attention to you.
You blink between them, your brain trying to keep up with the way Jackās hand is pressed against neck, guiding your head ever so slightly so youād meet his eyes. Everything feelsā¦ a lot. Warm. Confusing. A little overwhelming. Mainly entirely welcoming.
āUhā¦ā you pause, eyes meeting Jackās as he nods for you to continue speaking. āWhat is happening right now?ā
Jack doesnāt say anything at first, he just rubs his thumb along the side of your neck, looking up at Robby whoās quietly watching the two of you. The three of you share this silent look, each of you waiting for the others to break the silence. Thereās a look in their eyes, this dark warmth that dilated their pupils.
āOhhhā¦ shit, okey dokey.ā
-exactly 4 minutes later-
The dim lighting cast shadows across your three figures entwined on the plush sofa. You sat nestled on Jackās lap, one arm draped casually around his neck as he pressed a slow kiss against your lips.
Robbyās part watching, admiring the way your eyes fluttered to a close and the way you arched up against Jackās touch. He waits, one hand resting on the small of your back before leaning in to kiss your neck. Itās a sudden warmth that surprises you, forcing you to pull away from the kiss with Jack with a small squeal. Your hand snaps up to your neck in protection, the two men sharing a sudden heated look of interest.
āSensitive little thing.ā Robby carefully presses another kiss to your neck, at first he tried to avoid any ticklish, sensitive spots. Jack watches for a moment, one hand grabbing at your chin to tilt your head back before he follows his friendās show. He licks his kiss swollen lips, dragging his tongue along the side of your throat.
Your head shifts back, staring at the game that continued on the tv, biting your bottom lip to stifle the soft gasp that slipped from your lips. Four hands explored the contours of your curves, two pairs dragged down towards your hips, guiding you to rock yourself against Jackās lap, while the other pair busied itself with the gentle squeeze of your breasts. You naturally arched into their touches, craving more.
Their lips inch up, further up along your neck and with one gentle hand on your head, their lips are guided towards your face. Robbyās lips finds yours first, a quick, wet tangle of lips and tongues. Under you, Jack watches, waiting until Robby pulled away from your lips to replace his with his own. They swap for a few rounds, wet smacking, sore lips and breathless pants filled the room.
At some point, youāre not sure how to distinguish whose lips are whose, and youāre almost certain theyāve somehow kissed you at the same time. Tongues flickered out, tasting, messy and sloppy with desperation. Two pairs of soft lips molded to yours, firm and slow, as they captured your mouth and their own in a long kiss.
Breathless, you broke away from the kiss, chest heaving and lips buzzing as you tried to suck in as many greedy breaths as possible. Their scents mingled together into this heady, dizzying aroma of musk, citrus and pure men. It filled your lungs and clouded your mind this weird mind binding state.
Jackās fingers skimmed along her inner thigh, inching higher and higher until his fingers rested along the waistband of your jeans. He looks up at you, waiting for your eager nod of approval before helping you out of your pants. You stumble off his lap, eyes shifting from both men staring silently and eagerly at you as you slowly peeled off your jeans.
The two men watch with keen interest, Jackās mouth slightly agape, breathing heavy as Robby tilted his chin up in an attempt to see you better. Wiggling out of your jeans, Jackās eyes linger on your face before taking a subtle peek at the black lacy panties you had on.
āCāmere, sweetheart.ā Robby extends a hand out to you, you quickly look over to Jack who furrows his eyebrows slight with a small nod. You rest your hand in his warm palm, following after him as he lightly tugged you in between his spread legs. His hands slowly traced up the sides of your thighs, dragging up towards the back of your thighs to cup the groove of your ass in his hands.
You scooted closer to him, hands resting on his shoulders as he toyed with the elastic band of your panties. Noticing the flushed look on your face, Jack lightly cleared his throat. āYou donāt gotta be so nervous.ā Jack scooted down the couch until his knees bumped against Robbyās, one hand reaching out to rub your arm.
āYeahh, yeah, itās okay. Youāre okayā¦ we just like you, thatās all.ā Robby spoke soothingly, hands slipping around your hips to rest against your knees.
āāM not nervous.ā You retorted quickly, tilting your chin up despite the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. Robbyās hand gave your ass a firm smack, eliciting a shy yelp from you.
He cupped your mound through the thin lace of your panties, watching the way you nervously bit your bottom lip, thighs clenching together. Your hips twitched forward on their own, cheeks heating up.
āItās alright, weāll go slow,ā Jack reassured, standing up from the couch to rub your shoulders soothingly. āHow ābout you take a seat and spread your legs for us?ā
Glancing up at Jack, you quickly took a seat back on the couch, watching as Robby and Jack joined each other at the end of the couch. You brought your legs up onto the cushion, slowly propping your feet up as you maintained eye contact with them. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, spreading your legs apart.
āIāll be kind enough to let you go first, brother.ā Jack clapped a hand on Robbyās back, leaning against the armrest as Robby grinned up at him.
You watched as he licked his middle and ring finger, making sure they glistened with saliva. Keeping eye contact, he slowly pushed his thumb beneath the elastic band of your underwear, lightly tugging on the fabric to pull it down your legs. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper as he exposed your pussy to the warm living room air.
He sucked in a low breath at the sight of your slick folds, licking his lips before shifting to the side to give Jack a better view. āLook at that.ā He mumbled more to himself than either of you, Jack let out a shaky exhale watching as Robby slowly dragged the tips of his fingers along your slit.
You arched up into his touch, the heels of your feet digging into the cushions. Robby planted a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, easing one wet finger into your pussy. Pumping his finger languidly in and out of your cunt, his other hand grabbed your left leg, hooking it over the head of the couch to give him a better look at you. His index finger circled your clit with small tight circles, another finger slipping in.
You gasped and writhed under him, one hand coming up to grasp at his shoulder, pussy walls fluttering around his fingers. āShh, shhh. Listen.ā He glanced over at Jack, curling his fingers as he worked his way knuckle deep. Between the game on the tv and your soft gasps, the subtle squelch and slick of your wetness was heard, his fingers rotating and spreading apart.
āFuck, look at you.ā Jack stepped to your side, peeking down at where Robbyās fingers disappeared and reappeared from your cunt. It wasnāt until he approached your side that you noticed the erection straining in his pants, forcing out a shaky groan from your lips. Jackās mainly focused on the sight of his friendās fingers fucking in and out of you to care for the obvious tent in his pants.
Youāre trying to speak, mouth parting only to be interrupted by your own moan as Robby slowly pushes a third finger in. Youāre so close to attempting to form a coherent sentence, and youāre so close to coming, you can feel the rush of blood traveling through your body. āDonāt let her cum.ā The words sound muffled against your ear, which is weird because it almost sounded like Jack told Robby to not let you come.
Robbyās fingers falter for a moment, his attention snapping up to Jack as he adjusted himself. Those three fingers slowly pull out of you, an annoyed huff leaving you as you turn to look at Jack. You only had the capability to form one word: āwhy?ā
Jack reached down to brush a few stray strands of hair from your face, giving your head a soft pet. āIām sorry, baby. I really am, weāre gonna make it up to you.ā
Robby stop up from the couch, one hand hovering over the outline of his erection, adjusting his pants. You propped yourself up on the armrest, clit throbbing at the loss of attention. Jack quickly took his place between your spread legs, hands grabbing at your inner thighs to move your knees up against your chest.
You wrapped one arm around your legs, keeping your knees propped up against your torso. You could faintly hear his zipper coming undone, tilting your head to the side to try to catch a better view of what he was doing. Robby took a seat on the armchair, belt unbuckling somewhere in the distance.
Tugging his pants off until they pooled somewhere along his mid thighs, Jack carefully pulled his boxers down, freeing the angry erection from its confinements. One hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the thick, length bobbing slightly as he stroked himself. āHurry.ā You breathed out impatiently, catching the attention of both men who both seemed to physically remind themselves how to breathe.
Jack leaned forward hesitantly, eyes studying your face as he dragged the pre soaked head of his cock up and down your slit, painting himself with your arousal. You shuddered at the first touch, hips lifting involuntarily to chase the fleeting contact. Jack began to rub the tip against you, watching every shift of emotion on your face. Robby watched, transfixed at the sight of your pussy clenching as Jack teased you.
Pushing forward with incredible slowness, Jack glanced down, staring down at the way your pussy stretched and enveloped around him. Your breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt every thick inch of him stretching and dragging against your walls. He nudged further until he was bottomed out in your pussy, balls resting against your ass, giving you a moment to accommodate to his thickness. āFuckā donāt clench, relax a little.ā He cooed, fingers dipping along your slit to rub against your clit.
He fucked you slow and soft, hips rolling in long, controlled strides dragging his thick length almost all the way out before sinking back in until his hips ground against you. Each stroke made a wet, obscene sound, your pussy lips stretching shiny around him, creamy ring of mixed precum and juices building thicker at the base of his cock.
He kept the pace steady and gentle, every deep slide making your body jolt slightly against the armrest, your clit throbbing against his fingertip. His hips stuttered once before he locked back into that slow rhythm, pulling out shiny and slick before easing back in until your juices coated his balls. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Robbyās cock freed from his own pants, one hand tightly stroking himself. The wet squelch of skin on skin filled the blur of the room, quiet and messy, your arousal coating down his length.
He held deep for a second, grinding in tight circles so the fat head rubbed right against your g-spot. You whimpered under him, pussy clenching around him again as he gave your clit a small pinch. His free hand slid up, fingers wrapping around your throat with just enough pressure to guide your face towards where Robby sat.
āOh, shit.ā You muttered breathlessly, voice strained as he fucked against that sensitive spot. Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, eyes glued onto Robbyās as his hips bucked up into his own hand.
āCāmere,ā Jack grunted slightly, chin jerking towards Robby for him to approach the two of you. Jack looked back at you, his hand wrapped around your throat lightly tapping against your cheek. āOpen your mouth.ā
Your lips parted at his command, Robby stopped in front of you, one hand guiding the tip of his cock towards your open mouth. He watched with hooded eyes as your tongue darted out to lap at the weeping tip before taking him fully into her warm, welcoming mouth. Robby groaned, one hand coming up to rest on the top of your head, inching further into your mouth.
You hummed around his length, the vibrations sending jolts of warmth up his cock. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, hips jerking forward slightly. Relaxing your throat, you took him to the hilt, nose pressing against his pelvis as you swallowed around him. Robby cursed under his breath, gripping your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your mouth.
You slowly pick up the pace, sucking him sloppily, awkwardly bobbing your head from the angle. His hand slowly guided you, hips carefully moving against your face. Your body trembled and quaked under Jack, teetering on the brink of orgasm. Jake's movements turned shaky, hips stuttering and slapping against you quickly as your pussy clenched tightly around him.
Robby's breathing turned ragged, his grip tightening on your head as messily slurped around his cock. āJust like that.. good girl.ā Your clit throbbed at the praise, inner muscles clenched around Jackās length in a way that had him grunting heavily.
The obscene slap of sweat-slicked skin against skin echoed through the room, punctuated by their escalating pants and your gargled moans. Your body tensed abruptly as your orgasm rushed over you, back arching as a sudden surge of heat burst from your core. Your juices gushed out around Jackās cock, a surprised, breathlessly laugh leaving him. Your orgasm splattered against his groin and thighs, the unexpected flood caught him off guard. He faltered briefly, momentarily stunned as he pulled his drenched hand away from your clit.
āGoddamn..ā
āJesus Christ.ā
Both men spoke at the same time, watching as you gasped and shuddered. Robby quickly pulled his cock out of your mouth, shiny and slick with your spit as he stroked his cock over your face. You breathed heavily, chest heaving and lips all swollen, tilting your head back against the cushions.
Jackās hips continued to buck into you, quickly chasing his own orgasm. Your hands stumbled to grab at his wrists as he grabbed your hips, fucking you with rapid strokes. With a quick, rough thrust, he buried himself against your spasming pussy. His cock jerked and pulsed as he emptied himself, flooding your walls with wave after wave of warm, white seed.
Jack slowed his hips, gradually easing back until finally, he withdrew entirely from your cunt. Turning your head, you watched as Robby stepped back, one knee resting behind Jack, one hand lazily drifting down to circle his spit wet dick. Jack grabbed his own softening member, looking over his shoulder at Robby, who regarded you with a smug smirk.
āYou good, sweetheart?ā You nodded slowly at his question, legs aching as you stretched them out to loosen your tight muscles. āGood, ācause itās my turn now.ā
frank castle is always telling you that āheās not a good guy.ā doesnāt matter how much you tell him you donāt care about his vigilante status, itās something he always brings up. itās out of the blue, while youāre making a cup of sleepy time tea for the two of you to share, and heās muttering something along the lines of, āmānot a good guy, sweetheart. you can do a whole lot better than me.ā you donāt care. āi think youāre a good guy,ā youād tell him, āyouāre the best for me.ā this conversation turns into frank slow fucking you while making intense eye contact as he brushes your cheek with his fingers. āsay it againā¦ say iām the best for youā¦ā as he spreads you open
jack āiāll pay for itā abbot but in a different contextā¦ā¦ā¦. walk with me
restaurant!au, line cook!jack abbot, hostess!reader (fem reader), mild age gap, no smut, jack has a soft spot for reader and reader is a little oblivious to it
- i also havenāt watched the show so i apologize if i mis characterize him š im plotting on starting season one soon so hopefully i get to write more of the pitt :3333
shifts at the pitt are always the same. clock in, put your belongings in your locker, head out with a bright smile ready to deal with an onslaught of customers who seem to be experiencing their first day on earth in the restaurant.
everyone has bad daysā yours just happen to be days from hell.
youāre checking in on all the tables, and you realize youāre off by one. a table seems to have dined and dashedā you panic just a little since you know itās gonna come out of your check, but tread on nonetheless. you tell yourself itās fine, that this table will hopefully just give you a bigger tip since youāre bringing their food early, but unfortunately a customer gets up from his chair as soon as youāre turning a corner with said food, and all of it lands on you, you take a deep breath and keep that smile on while you excuse yourself to the back.
you can handle itā you have for almost a full year now. you know how to politely reject substitutions on orders, how to laugh when one of the people at your table make a sneak diss towards you, how to tune out a rather loud baby, and how to accept that sometimes tips just arenāt what you expected. you can handle it all, itās why the pitt has you scheduled most out of all the other hostesses. hell, youāre even named in a few yelp reviews for being quite kind and professional.
your smile drops almost immediately once youāre in the kitchen. the line cooks all stop their talking to watch as you huff and try to rub off the stains of food and wine from your white button up. itās futile, so you choose to storm out to the alleyway outside.
everyone returns to their job but jack, he remains looking at the door which you walked out. itās obvious to everyone with eyes that heās got the biggest crush on you, even when he shouldnāt. heās about twenty-something years your senior; and itās so cliche for the old line cook to want the younger hostess that it makes him want to poke his own eyes out for being that cliche about you.
he canāt even stop himself, itās just impulse to go check on you. he tells robby to cover his orders before he steps out the same door you did. there, he find you pacing around in the little circle trying to calm yourself down.
āhey, cāmere,ā his hands go to your shoulders. he almost puts them on your hips, but he realizes thereās far too intimate for two coworkers. he stops you, and god you look rather pitiful. your shoulders shake as you weep, white button up covered in sauce and wineā thereās even a little bit of pasta that got in your hair somehow.
ātalk to me, what happened?ā he croons softly. he knows you respond better when he gets his soft voice out, when heās patient and keeping you steady. thatās when the words start tumbling out of your mouth.
āi-i got dined and dashed and thenā then i was bringing a table their food but someone bumped into me and all theā all the fucking food spilled on me and now the moneys gonna come out of my check andā and tables have been stiffing me so and all of it is justāā you heave as you finally get a breath in, tears fall from your eyes as he looks at you like heās trying to solve every problem that youāll ever have to face. your quiet hiccups pull him out of his daze, and he rubs his hands over your shoulders to try and soothe you.
ādeep breath, follow me,ā he coaxes out of you. āitās not that bad, alright? just calm down.ā bad idea
āi canāt calm down ācauseā cause itās gonna come out of my check andā im-im already short on rent so now i gotta figure that out andāā
āiāll pay for it,ā he cuts you off. his eyes widen for a moment; he didnāt mean for the words to slip out that quickly, he was first gonna offer slightly, then insist because he worried about you. he can tell by your confused eyes you donāt get what he means. āyour rent,ā he clarifies, āiāll pay for it.ā
and it comes out so nonchalantly, too. he just casually has enough money to pay your rather expensive rent, and heās willing to do it, too.
āwhā no, no i canāt accept that, jack, thatās too much,ā you decline softly, shaking your head as your tears seem to have come to a stop from the shock that he cares enough to give you money.
āi insist,ā his eyes study yoursā even now with red rimmed eyes, tear streaks in your makeup, he find you rather beautiful. heās starting to realize he cares for you far more then he really should. ācome on, itāll give me a little peace of mind. i have the money for it, and if itāll help you, i want to.ā
after a little more insistence, you agree. it warms your heart just a smidge that he cares about you, enough to do such a big thing for you. your shift ends with a rather small pool of tips, but $2000 sent to your bank account by jack.
he hopes heāll get more chances to spoil you after this.
frankās got you pinned down between his large frame and the bed, the friction of the sheets brushing against your sensitive nipples and his open mouthed kisses along your shoulders. he reaches between the two of you to grab his cock, running the tip between your folds to tease you and watch you whimper. he lines up with your entrance and inch by inch by inch he fills you, groaning at the tight stretch and warmth of your cunt.
āalways so wet fāme. pussy feels so fucking good.ā frankās voice is low in your ear as he starts to pick up his pace, the slow grind of his hips shifting to frantic snaps as he digs his cock in and out of your soaking cunt.
frank watches with a grin as your hands reach for nothing, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your mouth agape, only able to string together high-pitched whimpers and shallow breaths. he sits up long enough to grab your arms and pin them behind your back with one hand, bracing himself with the other as he fucks loud, almost pornographic moans from you as his cock digs deep in your cunt, brushing against your sweet spot.
āyes frank, right there ā just like that.ā you lift your head up enough to look back at him with hooded eyes, bottom lip between your teeth as you rock your hips back to match his pace. the look on your face alone would be enough to make him bust in your pussy right then and there. instead his hand comes down on your ass with a smack before he leans down to level his lips with your ear, his large hand almost consuming your throat as he holds you in place.
āyou like that, huh? you like how i fuck that tiny little pussy? my fat cock stretching that cunt til youāre creaminā fāme? cāmon baby, milk this cock. come fāme. come on this fucking dick.ā
youāre clenching around his cock at his praises, weak whimpers leaving your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm, picking up his pace until heās leaving your pussy leaking with cum. he never wants to waste a drop, refusing to pull out until heās certain your cunt has taken every last bit of his release.
jack abbot adopting a German Sheperd that used to be a bomb sniffing dog that was retired for loosing her sense of smell feels right to me. her name is Sargent. she is a sweetie shes maybe 5 or 6 years old. he babies her and pampers her. shes a daddies girl.
bonus he starts dating controversially young reader and shes loud and exciting and has a dog that's just as energetic as her and it makes jack and sarge more energetic. sarge loves reader soooooooooooo much like will walk between her legs lay on her and by her like shes a tiny dog.
maybe reader has a medium to small dog that does that and shes crawling on her like "wait me too mama" she loves her new sibling though. and she probably tries to get reader to hold her like jack does and accidentally knocks her over.
jack gives her those pats on her stomach and butt. she also probably knows how to smile and open the fridge to get stuff out.
jack keeps calling her a mommas girl because reader started feeding her bougie shit and takes her to the groomers instead of just brushing her and washing her in the tub
sugar!daddy!jack abbot has his card out before you can even think about what the bill might come out to. sugar!daddy!jack who sees you eyeing a pair of shoes in a store for a little too long and the next day theyāre delivered to your doorstep. sugar daddy jack who tells you, āmy princess deserves anything she wants.ā sugar daddy jack doesnāt brag about all the things he spoils you with, but when youāre out to dinner in a dior dress, a ysl bag, and louboutins on your feet, everyone knows who got it for you
shane loves doggystyle; itās a simple fact. donāt get him wrong, heās a fan of every position and it isnāt to say he doesnāt want to look at your face when you both fuck. he thinks you look good all the time, but itās too mushy and touchy-feely to admit.
but thereās something about you, on your stomach with your knees propping your ass perfectly for him. itās the way your back arches, the way your hair is tousled and your hands grip the bedsheets because you know how hard he is to take.
he loves to slap his cock through your folds to watch the soft jump of your hips and hear the needy whine for him to stop teasing.
āneedy girl,ā heād retort, a wolfish grin on his face when he holds the base of his cock and guides it between those puffy folds. ācanāt be patient.ā he adds when he finally pushes in.
he has to take a steady inhaleā youāre just so tight and warm and needy that he has to remind himself to give you time to adjust to his length. his hands move to your hips, your ass. he gropes the supple globes of your ass so he can hold them back and watch your pussy just suck him in. he swears itās hypnotic how your folds just stretch around his girth.
āatta girlā¦ā he groans as he starts with short and shallow thrusts. āthatās itā¦ take it, cmon, i know you can.ā he whispers when you start to whine about how big he is. regardless, heās patient, because he knows that once youāre properly stretched, you get just as horny as he does.
he can tell when youāre ready because youāll start fucking yourself back onto him. face buried in the mattress and your hips pushing back to fuck his cock. he thinks you look heavenly like this, when you take what you want.
āyeah, fuck yourself on my cock,ā he grunts. his hands donāt guide, donāt do anything but touch your soft skin. he wonāt fuck you until you begā heās a tease just as much as you are.
once youāve pleaded enough to stroke his ego, heāll hold you down by the hips. ācanāt fucking do it yourself,ā heāll mock. ājust need your old man to do it for you, like always.ā
this is when he starts being mean. when his hips start rutting into you and his hands grip so hard bruises start to bloom. his cock drags heavy in and out of you, so big he hits spots nobody else has touched.
your face smushes into the pillow, hands unable to keep supporting youāre upper body with how hard heās fucking you. it only lasts for a minute before his bicep is wrapping around your throat to hold you against his chest like some sort of toy meant to take his cock.
drawn out whines fall from your mouth, in time with his deep thrusts. his head hooks over your shoulder, his grunts directly into your ear. āso fucking tight, baby, pussyās sucking me in.ā he grits out, a sloppy kiss pressed to your jaw. he can tell youāre getting closer; he can feel himself getting closer, too.
his other arm, the one that isnāt wrapped around your throat, reaches between your legs to swirl around your clit. it earns a sharp, choked whine from you while your eyes flutter to the back of your head. a few more of his perfectly times thrusts and youāre creaming all over his girth, squealing as that hot pleasure pumps through your veins, between your thighs. your pussy clenches so obscenely around him that it has his balls tightening and hot spurts of cum painting your walls.
he groans, his forehead pressed to your spine as he comes down from an orgasm that only you can pull out of him. he stays there a moment longer to catch his breath, a soft kiss is pressed to the skin there before he leans back up straight. he sees you so beautifully right now: hair tousled, glazed over eyes, a heavenly flush over your face as you melt into the mattress beneath you.
āso beautiful, angel,ā he murmurs as he starts to pull out, watching his cum start to spill out of that ruined hole.
content warnings šØ NSFW. minors do not interact, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, frank 40s), smoking, heavy making out, frank calls reader ākid,ā dry humping-ish
āFine,ā Frankās tough exterior wears down at your persistent chiseling. He leans against the wall in the alley of the bar he dragged you along to, and extends one hand with a cigarette fitted between his thumb and forefinger. āOne drag, but Iām telling you, kid, you aināt gonna like it.ā
You accept the cigarette, intently wrapping your lips around the filter before taking an overly enthusiastic inhale. Your body clenches at the feeling of the smoke infiltrating a space only meant for clean air, and the smoke exhales from your lungs in a fit of coughing. āYeah, thatās terrible,ā you confirm with a disappointed glare in Frankās direction.
āTold you,ā he mutters smugly, grabbing the cigarette back from you and pressing it between his lips. He shakes his head, a soft smirk curling upon his face he takes a long drag. Frankās eyes search the look on your face, trying to identify if your glare was disappointment or shame. āWhyāre you so upset, sweetheart?ā
You chew on the inside of your cheek, squashing the soft tissue between your molars before clicking your tongue. āObviously I didnāt want the cigarette, Frank.ā
āObvious? To who? To me? You were asking, doll, I wasnāt offering,ā Frank drops the cigarette on the concrete, smushing it with the tip of his boot to make sure the ash is completely put out before giving you his full attention once more.
āDidnāt want the cigarette,ā you mumble, frustration igniting a flame in your tone and Frank looks thrown off by the bite. āJust wanted my lips on something your lips touched. Since you wonāt kiss me, yāknow.ā
Frank opens his mouth slightly, his head searching for the right thing to say. Your little crush on him was clearā evident in the way you get shy around him, how your giggles extend further than needed when he makes a snide comment, the lingering staresā¦ Frank remembers what attraction felt like in his twenties. He remembers the desperation lingering in the air, the desire tugging at your abdomen. At this point in his life, he felt much too old to entertain your playground crush, but your puffy lips and dejected look was sorrowful.
āDonāt pout,ā Frank chastises, shaking his head slightly as he beckons you forward with one finger. He grips your waist, pressing your pelvis directly onto his as he holds you close against his body. His voice is gruff, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath against your skin, āIām too old for you, baby.ā
āBut I want youā¦ā Your whine is pathetic, annoying, and makes you feel like a spoiled brat stomping their feet when they donāt get their way. Before you can plead, Frank leans forward snd presses his lips against yours. Heās slow with it at first, trying to gauge whether or not you want gentle pecks, but he takes a bite of your bottom lip and you let out a wanton moan, he knows exactly how to make your head dizzy.
It isnāt long until he turns you around, pushing your body against the brick wall of the alleyway. Your mouths move in tandem, and he tastes exactly like youād expect. A hint of mint mixed with tobacco coats your tongue as your lips slide together, tongues pulling and pressing against one another.
Frank wraps his arms under you, picking you up so your legs wrap around his waist as he moves his lips down your jaw, then focuses on the soft skin under your ear. He works you over, nipping and pulling at your skin with his teeth then making it up to you by marking you with gentle kisses afterwards. Moans collide, echoing and bouncing around the alley, but you donāt seem to care about the possibility of someone seeing you in this vulnerable state when Frank is giving you exactly what youāve been waiting for.
āCan you feel what youāre doing to me, baby?ā Frank slurs against your neck while surging his hips in between your legs. Heās hard against you, the feeling of his girth and length through his pants is intimidating. Wetness pools in your cotton panties, forcing the fabric to stick against your folds as arousal twists your stomach. A pathetic whimper sounds from the back of your throat while your hips move forward as if to grind against Frankās clothed cock.
āIām gāna get you home, honey. Show you a good time that men your age canāt.ā
(18+) visual learner/lover Ėš·Ė clark is NEEEEEDY for visual stimuli whenever heās in the mood, whether heās fucking you or eating you out or getting his shit sucked like a vacuum. even if itās the middle of the night, hyper with the scuffle of shimmying off his own sweatpants while heās lying down on his side so his dick is out and beating up against your back. heāll whimper out like āturn on your light baby. I wanna do it with the light on. please? let me see?ā and will give puppy dog eyes if you say itās too bright, heāll try to negotiate so thereās at least low light cause he needs to watch it go in and watch you get split and spread open
after he cums heāll slide out and rush to shove his head down to your spread thighs and watch the show with insatiable greed as the flood of his load seeps out of your juicy lips. 99% of the time spreading your labia open with his fingers with soft eager praises like āoh yeah, this looks amazing. every time. sheās pushing my cum out so prettyā and catching himself zoning out on nothing except your pussy, unable to pay any attention to the world around him anymore while he stares. drools. like heās that mesmerized by it
no matter how dazed he gets when heās horny and pleasing you clark will always keep his droopy eyes cracked open as he savored the taste of you when heās eating you out, watching your pussy and your faceās reactions to every swirl of his tongue and purse of his lips
donāt even get clark started on the portfolio of lewd photos he keeps in his phone to beat off to. whether youāre posing for them or in the heat of the moment, heāll cum in his fist and all over his stomach faster than he has the nerve to admit just looking, ogling at the visuals as always. heāll have that private folder hidden and resist the urge to make it his phoneās background, given itās pretty risky if it lights up at work and shows something he doesnāt want anyone else to have their eyes on for even a second
clark will take a video with the flash on fresh after leaving a creampie in your pussy, zooming in closer and closer. pleading for you to clench it out, let some of it pour out of you on video. heāll even dip his tongue in the mess and spit it out all over your fucked out pussy, making a bigger milky mess for him to drool and take more dirty pictures of. heāll direct you like heās the director of his own little home movie, gently pleading you like āhoney please talk about how it feels, did it feel good? you look so full. pussy looks exhausted after taking it, she gets so pinkā heāll run his tongue along his bottom lip like a hungry animal ready to just feed and coo to you even softer, āso swollen too. poor baby might feel sore in the morning, Iām sorry. let me help make her feel betterā
clark could write the upmost descriptive novel about how hard it turns him on. looking, watching. youāve always heard that men are visual creatures, that they like what they see. clark didnāt just like it, didnāt just grow a stiffy when you bent over or strutted around in a pair of panties and a shirt. he got distracted, enthralled. you could make him do just about anything if you flashed him, could make him promise to do your dishes for the rest of the month, could make him agree to rewatch one of your favorite movies that night instead of a new one of his own.
clarkās brains so easily turn to mush. heās putty in your hands with any kind of visual stimuli
-
this felt essential
Iāll get to other requests and works and reposting my old fics soon! maybe this weekend :)thank you!
18+ content ahead | read at your own risk and donāt get me in trouble.
honestly this is kinda like obsessive clark but not in a full toxic way?? idk but you guys will like it (hopefully)
ex!clark kent who understood your reason for wanting to end things. he was hiding things from you. you werenāt exactly sure what, since he made it very clear that cheating was not on the table. in fact, it was nowhere near the table.
ex!clark kent who agreed to stay as friends until you were ready to commit to his stupid ass again.
ex!clark kent who also made sure you made it home safe. from a distance. a very far distance.
ex!clark kent who also walked you to and from work every single day. again, from a very. far. distance.
ex!clark kent who sits on the apartment complexās roof across from yours and justā¦ watch. watch as you do your nightly routine. putting up your hair with that plushie hair tie he got you from the corner store down the street, washing your face with your customized skincare that you got from the shop in the mall two blocks down, then wiping your face off with your favorite pink and fluffy face towel he got you for your birthday last year, walking to your vanity to rub that lotion that smells like cotton candy on your arms, and your legs, and your stomachā
ex!clark kent who, despite your guysā current situation, always texts you good morning (heās sitting on the roof of the apartment complex across from you to watch you get up so he can text you as you open your eyes) and good night (waits until youāre done with your routine and tucking yourself into bed), and even updates you about his day. and of course, you do the same. only because you feel bad. nothing else.
superman who shows up at your door one night, his skin littered in bruises and cuts. despite confusion running through your body as to why superman, the superman, wanted your help to patch him up.
superman who looksā¦ so goddamn familiar.
āā¦w-why did you come here? donāt you haveā¦ likeā¦ powers to heal?ā
he stares at you and huffs before leaning his head back onto your bathroom wall.
āthe sun. i heal from the sunā¦ its night.ā
you blink while you sit across from him, knees to your chest as he stares at you, and you stare back. as he opened his eyes, you realizedā¦youād recognize those blue eyes anywhere.
āā¦clark?ā
you watched as clark clenched his jaw softly, his ocean blue irises still staring back at you when he whispered, "...hi, baby."
ex!clark kent who explains everything. him being superman. why he kept it from you (he did leave out the fact that he had been stalking watching over you for the past three months, 4 weeks, 9 days, 32 hoursā)
ex!clark kent who lets you process everything while you guys sit on your bathroom floor. letting you ask him as many questions as needed.
ex!clark kent who says, "i was going to tell you. the night that we... ended things. but i knew i was hurting you with all of the lies. and i knew if i told you... someoneā anyone... would use you against me... i would never forgive myself if something happened to you."
ex!clark kent who quite literally begs for your forgiveness. his chin resting on your knees as you cup each side of his face with your hands. "please..."
ex!clark kent who you take back without hesitation.
bf!clark kent who cups your face oh so gently, pressing his lips against yours as your hands press against his chest.
bf!clark kent who can't seem to hold back. these past three months without you have been worse than if he had to swallow kryptonite.
bf!clark kent who carries you to your bedroom and places you gently on your bed, his towering figure hovering over you as you run your hands down the back of his neck. his lips only leaving yours for a mere second to unzip his suit before leaning down to crash his lips back onto yours.
bf!clark kent who makes the sweetest of love to you to make up for lost time. the ridges in his cock rubbing against the velvet walls of your cunt oh so deliciously.
bf!clark kent who whimpers softly into the crook of your neck with his hands wrapped around your waist as he rolls his hips into you, shaky breaths leaving his mouth, his breath warm against your skin as your nails scrape down his back.
bf!clark kent who holds you so close he sits up and pulls you onto his lap before entering you once more. the bed creaking under you both as he bounces you on his lap.
bf!clark kent who sighs contently as ropes of his cum fill your insides, his arms wrapped around your torso as your arms wrap around his neck. your legs on either side of him as you throw your head back in ecstasy.
bf!clark kent who would rather bathe in a pool of kryptonite than to ever, upset you. ever again.
warnings: explicit sexual content and smut, graphic sexual descriptions, fingering and oral sex, sexually explicit language and dirty talk, sexualized body focus and objectification, power dynamics involving pinning and commanding language, nsfw material intended for 18+ audiences, and consensual sexual activity.
ā bunny talking: ouu i just want him to crush me with his body ...
Clark always had his big veiny hands on your body. Touching and squeezing at art no other man could have the luxury of touching. "Feel so good in my grip, baby." He says as he palms your ass sweetly.
Other ways his big hands came in handy were when his thick and girthy fingers were prodding at the folds of your slick cunt, back arching off the couch, he pinned you down too with his thick arms wrapped around your thighs. "Sit still, baby. I can't fit them inside if you do all the squirmin'." He was overly pussy drunk, not even having a taste yet. His first digit entered your core in a way that made your legs want to close around his body. Your hole sucking him in with ease.
"Atta' girl. Feels good, yeah?" His eyes on you as your own are at the back of your head, the steady pace he set is enough to already send you over the edge. You can only bring yourself to nod, small whines escaping your lips in ways that make the bulge in his jeans even more prominent. "Can I put another baby? Can you handle another finger?"
He sounds so innocent, but he knows exactly what he's doing when he talks like that. "C'mon, speak up and tell me." You stutter before finally finding your words, a small squeal leaving you as he pushed the finger already intruding, deeper into your sopping cunt. "Y-yes! Yes- can handle it, Clark."
He grins, his second finger finding its way to your now stretched hole. "Gonna make you cum with just my fingers. Gonna cum f'me?" He sounds sloppy, pressing kisses to your thighs as he penetrates you further. "Hurry up and cum on my fingers, darling."
You buck your hips as he hits your sweet spot, in and out, his fingers go in your cunt. "Sloppy pussy. So sloppy." He can't help himself, pressing his tongue to the slick that escapes, your back arching off the couch and into his mouth in hopes he'd give you what your body was begging for.
"M'so close, Clark-" You cut yourself off with a groan at the feel of his tongue on the nub in between your slick folds. Your hands can't do anything but reach for his head in between your legs, suffocating him in a way that feels so good. Your legs are shaking as you release onto his tongue, thighs closing around his head. A guttural groan leaves both of you. "Fucking hell, baby. You came so much."
His thick fingers leave you feeling empty as he holds the slick-covered digits in front of him to admire. His tongue darting out to get a one last taste of your essence.
boss!lex luthor who is a total hard ass. heās like the daily planetās own miranda priestly. 5 secretaries within two months; all of whom have left with tears in their eyes, crying about how he is a total jerk. nobodyās ever gotten on his good side, but you still send in your application with the belief that itāll be tossed out as soon as you click apply.
boss!lex who has you bending over backwards from the first week. coffee runs, picking up files from various other offices all across metropolis, not to mention the look of pure disgust each time you step into his office. itās only a year, and then you can leave to gotham, new york, l.a., anywhere but metropolis and start writing real stories, you tell yourself every time thereās a minor tiff between you and your superior.
coworker!clark kent who catches you grumbling about your job to yourself. he feels bad for you, really. he knows from experience itās not easy working with lex, so he offers to help in any way he can. besides, itās what a gentleman would do.
coworker!clark who brings you coffee, even when heās running late after chasing an interview with superman. sometimes he even goes the extra mile and brings you breakfast. always with a warm smile, insisting it isnāt a big deal. he read your order off of one of your cups once and remembered it, but he wonāt tell you that part.
boss!lex who can tell from a mile away what is going on with clark. the boyās infatuated, and itās as clear as ice. lex wonāt have it, not on his watch. not when he was just beginning to find you tolerable. maybe he needs to change his approach, maybe heāll be a little nicer to you.
secretary!reader who finds themselves fawning over clark. but who wouldnāt? i mean come on, look at the guy! it doesnāt help that heās so kind, so very understanding and always the first to try and help you. although, it doesnāt stop the warm feeling that blooms in your gut when you get slight signs of approval from lex. maybe itās daddy issues, or an insistent desire for praise from your otherwise icy higher-up, but you find yourself seeking his attention, too.
