I really just have to summarize Thomas's entire life:
He was in a committed relationship with a male swan named Henry for 18-24 years before a female swan named Henrietta showed up and mated with Henry.
Thomas was initially jealous of the pair and attacked them, breaking 2 of the 5 eggs Henrietta had laid. However, once the remaining eggs hatched, Thomas warmed up to them and helped raise them.
Henry couldn't fly because of an injured wing, so Thomas taught the cygnets how to fly.
When they needed to reduce the goose population in the pond where Thomas and the swans lived, they dyed Thomas's feathers red so he wouldn't be separated from Henry.
Henry, Henrietta, and Thomas remained in their happy throuple for years and raised 68 cygnets before Henry died in 2009. After Henry's death, Henrietta found another swan and flew away, leaving Thomas alone.
Thomas finally met and mated with a female goose in 2011 and had his own babies. However, another goose named George stole them and raised them himself.
As Thomas grew elderly and blind, he was relocated to a wildlife center where he raised orphaned cygnets.
His caretaker at the center described him as "pretty high maintenance."
Thomas died in 2018 at the age of around 40. He had a funeral that included a small coffin and a procession that was led by a bagpiper. He was buried under the stone where Henry was buried, the two finally reunited in death.
Before and after his death, Thomas has been celebrated as an icon of the LGBTQ+ community for obvious reasons.
you wake up aching, bones hollowed out, skin cold no matter how many silk blankets wrap around you. you brush your hair. you make his coffee. you smile when he leaves.
you’ve always been the quiet kind of wife. soft-spoken. gentle. waiting.
so when your body begins to fail you, you do it in silence too. you take your pills in the guest bathroom. you cough into towels. you write letters he’ll read one day with shaking hands and too-late love.
you never wanted him to love you because you were dying.
you just wanted him to love you before you were gone.
but he was busy. he was tired. he was building an empire.
and you, well you were just dying in the house he built for you.
Tears. Just fucking tears. Why did I do this to myself? I could've stopped at chapter 4, but no, I finished it. Really loved it but now I'm just sad and its only 8 in the morning.
After reading your pope and jack fic, I was wondering if you could do one where reader is a student doctor at the Pitt but is married to Pope who in this case could be like..jack’s nephew or smth..and he just gives off such Doberman energy when he comes to pick her up at the end of her shift oh and and you best believe he kind of just stares Robby down cos he knows how mean he can be to his wife in shifts.
Also I think Dana would be such a nice person to pope.
A good husband protects without biting
tags: andrew cody x fem!doctor reader, jack abbot x cousin-in-law!reader, jack and andrew are cousins, doberman energy andrew, guard dog andrew, andrew cody doesn't mess around, mean robby, protective jack, the pitt doesn't think andrew exists, 18+ MDNI
notes: thank you @mei-vis for requesting! I hope I did this ask justice! I chose for jack and andrew to be cousins instead of an uncle/nephew since I believe they look a bit too similar for that familial relationship!, like always if you'd like to be added to my permanent tag list, please comment here! please enjoy!
word count: 2.6k words
The end of your shift couldn’t come soon enough.
In the span of twelve hours, you’d been doused in bodily fluids twice, hit on by a creepy old drunk who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, passively dismissed by Robby after he deemed you “too slow” for a trauma (when in reality, the med student next to you was the one who wouldn’t hand you the damn tube), and had your lunch stolen when it clearly had your name written on it—four times might you add.
To top the whole very bad day off, your husband hadn’t responded to the messages you had sent hours ago asking if he’d be back in time to pick you up because the forecast called for rain, and like all bad days had gone, your car basically gave up the ghost the moment you parked it in the employee lot.
So, you were almost scrub-less, uncomfortable, embarrassed, and so starving you almost thought about paying an insane price for a small Uber-ed meal before you also realized that the app hadn’t saved your information and your card was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.
Just what you needed.
The groan, along with the rumbles of your stomach, caused many heads to turn.
“Is there a stampede in here? Or is your stomach in the process of eating itself,” Dana asked, though her eyes didn’t leave the nurses’ board.
Your head landed next to the keyboard with a loud thunk. “I think my stomach tried to eat itself a couple of hours ago before realizing that it was completely empty.”
“I saw you brought lunch. Where’d that go?”
If glares could put someone six feet under, the one you were giving your computer should have imploded it. “Currently being digested in the stomach of a med student.”
“Good Lord. You poor thing.”
“Tell me about it. I’d been dreaming of those leftovers since last night!”
Dana gave you a knowing look. “Did your husband cook it?”
“Yep.” Your chair squeaked as you leaned back. “And I didn’t even get to enjoy it for the second time. He’s going to be pissed.”
“Who’s going to be pissed?” Trinity asked, already leaning on the counter like getting closer to you would make the gossip flow over. “Cause if you’re talking about Dr. Robby, that ship sailed around 2:30.”
You closed your eyes and ran a hand down your face. “Trust me; I already know he’s pissed off at the world. I’ve been on the receiving end of that way too much today.”
She gave you a sympathetic wince. “I heard about that.”
“Who hasn’t,” you muttered with a harsh snort.
That was the other thing that had added to your humiliation. Robby hadn’t just quietly dismissed you or corrected you after the trauma, no, he rather loudly decided to spew his personal thoughts about your work ethic in front of not just your coworkers but also the patient’s family who were there for moral support. Blatant strangers had a front seat to watch your attending rip into you all while it hadn’t even been your fault.
Just thinking about it brought another heated flush up your neck.
“To answer your question, her husband’s the one who’s going to be pissed,” Dana filled her in while rewriting a name. “He’s very particular about who gets to eat his food.”
Another groan rumbled your chest. “Med student didn’t even return the Tupperware. Now he’s going to be extra pissed at that.”
For a small second, Trinity looked almost nervous. “Will you be okay?”
Her concern made a small feeling of comfort and pride bloom in your chest. If there was one person you could count on other than your family and Dana, it was Trinity, never hesitating to step in if she even thought someone didn’t feel safe. You shot her a grateful smile.
“Oh, I’ll be perfectly fine. He’ll be mad sure, but not at me. We’ll just pray that he won’t spot the student that did it.”
“Amen to that,” Dana muttered. “He’s like your personal guard dog.”
“Are we going to add that guy who tried to touch your ass earlier?” Trinity teased, and your eyes widened.
“Definitely.” You nodded along. “Might as well add Robby to it too. My husband isn’t that fond of him already. I just wish he’d respond to my messages.”
Dana gave you a knowing look. “He at work today?”
“Yeah. There was a problem with one of the houses a few hours out, and he left before I was even out of bed. Said there was a contract breach, kissed me good morning, and drove off.”
“That’s oddly sweet,” Trinity added.
You couldn’t help the fond smile that grew on your face. “Even made my coffee for me. I found it with one of those little post-it notes stuck to it.”
“Didn’t know he was into doing stuff like that,” Dana said with a small laugh.
“You know how he is,” you replied. “The man’s love language is acts of service.”
Trinity smiled. “What does he do for work?”
Your fingers found the keyboard again while you answered. “He’s a relator and contractor. Usually, he works from home, but like today, he sometimes has to go out and inspect the houses or make sure the paperwork is in order.”
“Sounds like you got yourself a stay-at-home husband.”
You couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah. He actually really likes to do the house work. Plus, when I’m home, all I’m doing is sleeping.” Your eyes caught your wedding band. “He’s really good to me. Plus, he’s Jack’s—”
“Ladies, if we have time to chat, we have time to work,” Robby’s voice interrupted the conversation, loud and on the very edge of condescending. “Especially you, Dr. Cody. Let’s focus on getting patients in and out instead of sitting around, yes?”
You swallowed down an annoyed sigh, instead choosing to stand up without a word. Hating the way you felt under Robby’s glare almost made you want to put in a two-week notice and move departments. However, emergency medicine was your life; it was the sole reason you met the people who quickly became your family, the reason you met your husband. Your fingers quickly found your wedding band, specially made of the number of diamonds that symbolized how long you and your husband had been dating before he proposed.
Grabbing another tablet quickly, you forced yourself to hold your head up high as you passed him. Robby wasn’t worth your fear or submission. Plus, it wasn’t like he never talked around; you’d caught him and the hospital’s case manager making small talk way too many times to count. The man was a hypocrite that couldn’t see past his own faults and projected them onto his employees.
By the time you rounded the corner, and Robby had vacated the station, Trinity leaned in toward Dana a bit more.
“Is there any way to contact her husband? She mentioned her car died, and it’s raining.” Trinity looked in the direction you had disappeared down. “If I were married and my boss talked to me like that, I’d want my partner to know.”
Dana had already picked up her personal cell after Trinity’s first question. “Oh, I’ll make sure he knows.”
_______________________
When you exited the patient’s room, you paused a few feet into the hallway, rubbed your eyes, and continued to stare at the nurses’ station.
Dana being there with Trintiy and Dennis was nothing out of the ordinary. However, the added presence of Jack Abbot and your husband was. You hastily crossed the gap between you and the station, concern etching itself in your eyebrows and lips.
“Andrew?” you called out. “What are you doing here?”
At the sound of your voice, Andrew Cody turned his head so rapidly that it added another wave of worry that he might have pulled something. He stayed still, even when you stopped in front of him, as your hands gently ran up his arms and stopped at his face all while the small group watched on with small smiles (from Jack and Dana) and genuine curiosity (from Dennis and Trinity).
“You’re supposed to be in Altoona right now. Did you get hurt?” you questioned when your eyes couldn’t find any visible injuries.
He stayed silent while his hands quietly found yours, fingers threading between the gaps and holding you steady.
“I’m fine,” he finally said, hazel eyes boring into yours. “Just missed you.”
A relieved exhale escaped from your lips. “Thank goodness. I was worried there for a second.”
His crooked teeth poked through a smile. “I could tell.”
You softly pushed him before taking his hands again. “Shut up. You went hours without responding and just show up at the end of my shift. God forbid I’m concerned for my husband.”
“See, man, I told you she’d do this,” Jack grumbled, patting Andrew slightly on the shoulder.
“Um, not to interrupt, but did Dr. Cody marry someone who looks exactly like Dr. Abbot?” Dennis squeaked out a question, obviously trying not to step over a boundary.
But like a sister, Trinity nudged him harshly with her elbow. “Use your brain, Huckleberry. It’s obvious they’re related somehow.”
The two continued looking between the Pitt’s night shift attending and your husband who looked like Jack if he were ten years younger.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you early, Trinity,” you said. “My husband is Jack’s cousin on their moms's side. Andrew, this is Dennis and Trinity.”
Andrew didn’t reach out to give them a handshake, but the appreciated nod he gave them was somehow enough. “She talks about you two a lot.”
Trinity looked smug by the news. “All good things I hope.”
“Definitely,” he answered. “I can tell she likes working with you two.”
“Which is more than he can say about Robby,” Dana muttered.
The change in Andrew, just by mentioning Robby, was so visceral that Trinity and Dennis were both shocked.
In the few moments, the two could see how soft this hunking-fridge-of-a-man was for you. They saw it in the way he was quick to hunch over slightly when you looked him over with worry. They noticed it in the way he held onto you when he reassured you that he was only there for her and not because he had gotten hurt. They noted the way his soft smile was only for you and not even for when his cousin jested with him.
Dana’s words from earlier rang in Trinity’s mind as she watched Andrew’s muscles tense beneath his polo.
He’s like your personal guard dog.
Andrew shifted his weight, shoulders now seemingly broader than they had been. “Did something happen today?”
Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “It was nothing. He’s just being Robby.”
Surprisingly, Andrew’s eyes flitted over to Trinity like he knew she’d tell him exactly what he wanted to know. “What’d he do?”
Trinity looked at you once, and when you looked toward the floor, she answered. “He blamed her for a med student’s slow pace. Practically yelled at and belittled her in front of the other doctors in the trauma room and the patient’s family.”
Even Jack couldn’t hold back the wince splashing across his face at the news, mind already knowing that in five seconds, his cousin might be on a war path for his friend. However, all Andrew seemed to do was take in a deep breath and hold onto your hands like a tether.
“All right,” he finally said, body still tense. “Okay. Anything else I should know?”
“Someone took her lunch,” Dana added, drawing your eyes from the floor to her, hues flooding with betrayal.
Et tu, brute?
“Dana,” you hissed.
Andrew’s grip on your hands tightened.
In an almost attempt to throw more gas onto an already raging fire, Trinity ended with, “And she had a patient try to grope her earlier this morning.”
Andrew’s eyes closed slowly like he was bracing for a fit of rage to overtake his senses, his mind already racing with the fact that you probably hadn’t eaten, because when he stopped by the house to change, he saw your forgotten card. Add in you almost getting assaulted, and he was one wrongly pulled Jenga block from collapsing.
You closed your eyes and braced for impact, already feeling the brunt of the day push down on you. They only fluttered open when Andrew didn’t move, his chest the only thing heaving in an out and in motion. Somehow, that didn’t ease the queasy feeling bubbling beneath your skin. And at that moment, Robby decided to round the corner. Like most men, you guessed that he hadn’t picked up on the tension cloud that was currently circling around the station and—more importantly—Andrew’s head.
When Robby walked into his field of view, you swear you saw the lovely hazel of his eyes darken. It should have scared you how quickly Andrew could go from your sweet and doting husband to a very possessive animal, but instead, the change had you relaxing and relieved. If there was someone you could count on for anything no matter what, that person would always be Andrew.
And maybe (finally) Robby sensed enough tension, because his body went stiff after he looked up from the tablet in his hands and met Andrew’s eyes.
Trinity and Dennis really thought that your husband was going to stalk over there, throw a punch, menacingly bark curse words and insults at Robby (a man who had a few good inches to tower over Andrew), and walk back over like nothing happened. But when he stayed put, only giving a beady stare that never wavered, they realized that he didn’t even have to talk to Robby or punch him for his words to get across.
They knew that Andrew was making Robby uncomfortable by the way Robby shifted, the way he broke eye contact first, and the way he left the station looking like a dog with a tail between its legs.
Jack let out a low whistle. “Damn, that never gets old.”
Dana smirked. “He ever use that on you?”
“All the fucking time.” Jack scoffed. “Do you know how many family gatherings I spent trying to get away from those eyes.”
“We have the same eyes, asshole,” Andrew grumbled.
“But yours are scary as hell,” Jack shot back. “Might be a good time to say that my night shift needs another resident.”
“Fuck no,” Trinity instantly said. “You can’t have her, or we’d be left with him.”
Dennis nodded. “I’m in full agreement.”
Jack looked over at you expectantly but visibly deflated at the apologetic look you were giving him.
“Sorry, Jack, but I enjoy getting to spend my evenings at home.” You paused and smirked. “I know Samira’s been looking for a change of scenery if you want to ask her.”
The small crowd couldn’t help but smile or chuckle at the now vivid flush across Jack’s face as he tried to sputter out an answer.
“All right, get out of here kids before it looks like you’re staging a mutiny,” Dana said with a wave of her hands.
“Aye, aye, captain,” Trinity responded with a salute of her own.
Andrew grinned widely, finally showing the smile around more people than just you. “If we’re turning into pirates, Jack already has the missing-leg thing down.”
“Hey!”
You giggled loudly while Andrew wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you into his side. Your hand gently rested against his chest as you hugged him back. He felt your body melt into his after he pressed a quick kiss to your temple.
“Ready to go home?” he quietly muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “Dana already gave me your bag.”
“Yeah,” you breathily sighed. “Let’s go before a trauma comes in, and I’m stuck in here until I wither away.
Andrew hummed. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
“Absolutely not. I still want to have leftovers at least one more time before I’m buried. And this time, I’m putting a padlock on the container.”
Okay, but you know what I can’t stop thinking about??
🍃Pope Cody x Witchy!Girlfriend🍃
Because just imagine how much he’d fully believe in her and everything she believes and just ask no questions about any of it. 🥹🤭
Example #1:
“What is that?” Craig asks, nose scrunching a bit as he eyes the thing hanging from Pope’s rearview mirror. It’s a white, almost translucent looking rock tied to a cotton twine.
“That’s my crystal.” Pope says, eyes focusing on the road. Deran tries not to laugh in the backseat.
“What the fuck is a crystal?” Baz asks though.
“Y/N gave it to me. It’ll keep me safe.” Pope shrugs, still extremely casual about this whole conversation.
“It’s a rock!” Craig says. “A shiny rock..” He states.
“No, it’s a crystal.” Pope corrects.
Craig tries to poke at it only to have Pope swat his hand away. “Don’t touch it. You’ll mess it up.” He states.
“What?” Craig asks.
“Y/N just charged it for me, you touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Pope argues.
“What does that even mean?!” Craig stresses.
Example #2:
“So.. They’ll just.. Tell you anything?” He asks as he watches you shuffle the tarot cards.
“Well, they’ll tell me what I need to know..” You inform as he sits next to you, just watching you work.
“Will they talk to me?” He asks curiously after a moment. You smile gently.
“Well, let’s see..” You say as he leans closer to watch..
Example #3:
“We’re heading to the bar after this. You want in?” Deran asks.
“Can’t. Full moon.” Pope says as they lean against his car, waiting for Craig to finish inside.
“Full what?” Deran asks.
“It’s a full moon tonight. Gonna help Y/N..” He says simply with a shrug.
“Gonna help her do what?” Deran asks.
“She’s gotta refresh a few spells. Build on some manifestations. I’m gonna help out. She’s been prepping all day.” He says. Deran stares at him for a moment, just letting it sink in before he shakes his head, deciding it best to let it go.
“You should try it. Feels good.” Pope continues.
“I… I’m not talking about this.” Deran finally states as he shakes his head.
“Okay..” Pope mutters back, looking elsewhere. “Damn shame. Maybe you could’ve manifested a new attitude..” He mutters under his breath..
thinking about dennis whitaker who's a lot stronger than he looks. farm boy, three older brothers, working the er—whitaker's probably a tank in disguise. but because he's so mousy and confidence doesn't ooze out of his every step, people assume.
so when you happen upon the er after taking a spill and word spreads the very charming very breathtakingly beautiful patient in room 12 is dating their very own huckleberry, everyone has just one question.
"how?"
it's clear she hadn't meant to say it aloud. the nurse attending to you—princess—immediately shut her mouth; and you broke into a smile bordering a laugh.
"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—"
but you shook your head. "no, it's not . . . i don't take insult to it. he's a lot different here than he is with me, i know, but . . ."
princess didn't know what she expected but it certainly wasn't this; you, bashful and shy, because of him, (what was it garcia called him? oh yeah), white chocolate.
"how did you two meet?" princess asks, rephrasing her question.
and you surprise her again when you launch into an animated story about your first encounter. but what catches her off guard the most is—
"—and then he lifted the fridge, and i managed to get my hamster back out from under. luckily she was okay, but that's the last time i let santos hamster-sit and . . ."
you paused when you noticed princess's confusion; but it dawned on you quickly. "oh, did you not know they were roommates? i thought dennis said everyone knew."
"i did," princess answered. "i just didn't know, uh . . . dennis could lift a fridge."
you blinked, and then all at once as if you'd remembered something, you rushed into your next sentence. "oh, i definitely was not supposed to mention that." frazzled, you continued, "it's . . . he gets shy about showing the better parts of himself, i think, especially at work."
and princess, almost touched by your level vulnerability, reassures you. "it'll be our secret."
naturally, everyone knows by the end of shift.
bonus:
"it was a smaller fridge," dennis said when he caught princess's teasing glance later.
but santos, being the instigator she is, shook her head. "i can't lift a fridge. can you?"
and not looking up from his chart, robby doesn't miss a beat. "i can't even lift a mini-fridge."
thinking about dennis whitaker who's a lot stronger than he looks. farm boy, three older brothers, working the er—whitaker's probably a tank in disguise. but because he's so mousy and confidence doesn't ooze out of his every step, people assume.
100% believe on this and give him a little more buff then that's fucking Clark Kent without the Kryptonian stuffs. Anyone getting my drift? Or is this just an absolute L take?
I stand ten toes down that one of the main reasons hucklerobby gained so much traction and was so buzzy in s1 is because rpf. like.
sorry but "omfg why was he touching dennis more than everyone else??" mr "we really got to play physically with each other" wyle. that was noah touching gerran dude. and the heart eyes they give each other? noah's— sorry, robby's— impossibly fond expressions? pretty crazy that they uh. pretty much look at each other like that. just in general.
mr "I just see a picture of a big thing and a little thing and send it to gerran like 'hey it's us, buddy'" wyle. genuinely there's so much bullshit going on there that if this was happening with a female costar and if gerran didn't also look at him Like That I'd be worried about harassment lmfao what the fuck do you mean noah scruffed him and kissed his head like huh mind u gerran is CHEESING I still can't believe this photo is real
Hellooo, for the blurb I was thinking of pranking robby or jack or dennis, or all 3 whichever you feel like, by making someone insult you as a joke and seeing how they would react. I remember reading a fic where this was used and jack was pranked by reader and shen and at the end he found out it was for a tiktok trend:))
protective - dennis whitaker x f!reader
summary: you and parker try to prank dennis and end up pranking the wrong guy.
pairings: dennis whitaker x f!reader, platonic!jack abbot x reader
cw/tags: no use of y/n, swearing, established relationship (reader and dennis are engaged). protective!jack, swearing, dennis and reader (mostly reader) are lowkey freakish, slightly suggestive content (maybe a little more than slightly...implied but not explicit smut, mild choking), mostly fluff vibes lmao
word count: 0.8k
this can be read as part of the hot shot series if you'd like!
masterlist
taglist
Your stomach buzzes as Ellis approaches you, a smug look on her face, tablet tucked beneath her arm. Her eyes flick past you, making sure that Dennis is within earshot, stifling a laugh into her hand.
“Hey,” She greets. You casually look up from your computer, giving her a smile.
“Hi,” You say.
“No makeup kinda’ day, huh?” She says. You let out a wavering exhale, keeping yourself from breaking before responding.
“Oh, uh, no,” You say. “I’m wearing makeup.”
“Seriously?” She asks, sounding as agog as possible. “Damn, rough night?”
From behind you, Dennis looks towards the interaction, his brows furrowing at the out of character comments coming from Ellis. He frowns when he realizes that she’s talking to you, watching as you lean away from her and defensively cross your arms over your chest.
“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to act offended. “Does it not look nice?”
“I mean…” She trails off, purposefully looking at Dennis again, just for a split second. “You’ve definitely had better days.”
Dennis waits for your response, knowing that you can take care of yourself, but also having to fight the anger that grows in his chest. Ellis is your friend, is she not? Why the hell is she talking to you like this?
“What the fuck, Ellis?”
You recognize the voice without needing to turn around, but even if you couldn’t, the look on Ellis’ face would be a dead giveaway. Her eyes widen, and she ducks her head towards you.
“Say nice things at my funeral,” She mutters. You actually laugh, just in time for Jack to make his way over, aggressively setting a hand down on the counter to stop Ellis from going anywhere.
“Shouldn’t you be focused on handover?” He asks, the veins in his forearms popping, a probing look on his face. Your eyes go wide, face heating up as you try to hold in another laugh when Ellis turns to you. “Don’t look at her.”
“Jesus, Abbot, it was just-”
“I heard you’re applying for an ultrasound fellowship next year,” He says, lowering his voice, cutting her off. “I’ll be keeping the way you speak to your colleagues in mind when you ask for a recommendation letter.”
“Oh my god,” You say, laughing through the words, your jaw dropping at the end of the sentence. “We were just fucking around, Jack, I wanted to mess with Dennis a little. You weren’t even supposed to hear that.”
His head snaps to look at you, brows still furrowed threateningly, but they slowly relax as he takes in your words.
“What?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, looking at Dennis. “You hearing this, Whitaker?”
Dennis clears his throat. “Uhm, yeah, yes. I thought it seemed out of character, but-”
“But what?” Jack asks. “You were gonna’ let someone talk to her like that?”
“Jack!” You exclaim, standing up, setting a hand on top of his. “You kinda’ stepped in before he had a chance.”
He squints, looking back at Ellis. “You didn’t mean it?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” She asks. “She’s who I think about whenever I hear ‘Lips of an Angel.’”
You snort. “You’re an idiot.”
Dennis is standing behind you now, his hands on the back of your chair, his shoulders back slightly as though good posture will somehow convince Jack to not be mad at him. You sit back down, and his hands slip onto your shoulders, fingers tapping against you. Jack gives you and Ellis a final glare, then walks off to check on the most recent trauma patient.
“You almost got me killed,” Ellis says, laughing, jabbing a finger in your direction accusatorily. “The only person I thought would be getting mad at me was your fiancé, and at least I could take him in a fight.”
“Sorry, you think you could take him in a fight?” You ask. “You know I love you, but you’re losing that one, babe.”
“Oh, why, cause he spends his free time carrying hay?” She asks, sarcastically, lifting her arm up and flexing, her bicep bulging against her scrub top. “You’re going down, funky music.”
“Luckily we don’t have to find out,” Dennis says. “But now Abbot thinks I’m a wimp, so, thank you for that.”
You look over your shoulder, smiling innocently. “He’s just protective, he actually really likes you.”
Dennis scoffs, smiling back at you. “Sure seems like it.”
Later that night, long after the dayshift has gone home, Ellis checks her phone between patients, tapping on a notification from you. She can’t figure out what the picture is at first, but then she turns her brightness up, realizing it’s Dennis’ arm, bicep flexed and veins pressing against his skin.
Later that night, long after the dayshift has gone home, Ellis checks her phone between patients, tapping on a notification from you. She can’t figure out what the picture is at first, but then she turns her brightness up, realizing it’s Dennis’ arm, bicep flexed and veins pressing against his skin.
Around your fucking neck.
I hate when other people live my dreams!!!!!
But on another note, really really love this though!!! About to now read the series this is in ❤️❤️❤️
first time she pointed out the townhouse, jack didn't think much of it. he hummed in response, holding onto her smaller hand even tighter as a biker was passing them on the sidewalk.
they were walking back from their favorite coffee shop, paper cups warming their hands against the chilly pittsburgh morning.
she'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring across the street with that dreamy look she got whenever something captured her attention.
"ugh.” she swooned. “that's my favorite house," she'd said.
jack had followed her gaze.
it was a beautiful townhouse. it was about three stories of brick and black shutters with overflowing flower boxes beneath the windows. it was elegant without being flashy. it was lived-in without looking old.
he'd hummed his acknowledgment and continued walking.
that should have been the end of it.
but it wasn't.
because the next week she pointed it out again.
and the week after that… and the one after.
soon it became part of their routine.
coffee, pastries, the townhouse.
every single saturday morning and every single time they passed it, her pace slowed.
sometimes she'd admire the little balcony on the second floor, or the iron railings, even the huge windows that flooded the interior with sunlight. and other times she would just smile at it quietly before continuing down the block.
jack never teased her about it.
he just listened the way he always listened.
collecting and gathering every detail she offered without her realizing it.
it was like he was storing them away somewhere safe.
—
months later, she was standing in front of the pastry display at the coffee shop when jack casually mentioned the open house.
she looked up immediately.
"what.. really?" she said in disbelief. “i didn’t see a sign, though. are you sure?” she said in the middle of taking a bite of her banana loaf.
"yeah they’re showing the townhouse today.” he repeated with that signature sideways smile. “it’s a private showing.” he shrugged.
the excitement that lit her face was instant and for a moment, jack almost felt guilty because she had absolutely no idea…
when they arrived, the house was somehow even more beautiful inside.
sunlight spilled through oversized windows, warming polished hardwood floors and pale walls.
the entire place felt bright, open and comfortable.
it was a place that people built lives together and they could feel the warmth of a loved and cherished home.
jack spent most of the tour watching her instead of the house.
watching her wander into every room with wide eyes, watching her run her fingertips along the bathroom countertops.
watching her stand in front of windows and imagine things.
he knew she was imagining things because she'd always done that. her imagination was everything that made her into the dreamer that she was.
even in their tiny conversations, or while walking down the street.
she saw dreams everywhere and a beautifully bright future in every empty space.
"this kitchen is incredible." she mused, as she rounded the kitchen island and peered out the windows that rested right above the kitchen sink.
her voice echoed softly through the room as jack leaned against the doorway.
her shoulders sank as she peered into the lush backyard garden.
"It is." he said as he watched her in quiet awe.
she moved toward one of the windows, sunlight caught her hair. the sight of her standing there nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
because she looked like she belonged there.. with him. he nearly groaned at the sight of her. her hair falling behind her shoulders while she playfully pretended to wash the dishes.
he smiled wildly as she looked behind her at him and wiggled her eyebrows, causing them both to giggle.
it looked like she wasn’t visiting.
or imagining.
she was just belonging.
as if the house had been waiting for her this whole entire time.
the realtor eventually left them alone to explore.
that was when the trouble started.
because the more she saw, the more she fell in love with it.
and the more she fell in love with it, the more impossible it became for her to hide her disappointment.
by the time they reached the living room again, she was trying very hard to be realistic.
jack knew that look it was the one where she talked herself out of wanting something.
“it's okay," she said softly.
nobody had even asked a question.
jack raised an eyebrow as she laughed a little sadly.
"this place is just..." her gaze drifted toward the windows.
the fireplace.
the staircase.
everything.
"it's perfect." she hummed as jack placed his hand on the back of her small back. her words came out as barely more than a whisper as she looked up at him.
jack felt something squeeze painfully inside his chest.
because she wasn't being dramatic.
or materialistic, or unrealistic, she just genuinely loved this place.
the same way she loved old bookstores and small coffee shops and rainy afternoons cuddled with a good book.
she loved things completely, with her whole heart.
"a girl can dream, right?" she said softly to him. her smile small.
jack stared at her for a long moment— long enough that she did a double take when she wanted to pull him out and go back home.
"w-what?" she looked at him in confusion.
his hands slipped into his pockets, a nervous habit which was one she rarely ever saw.
then he nodded toward the room around them.
"good thing you don't have to." he nodded earnestly.
confusion flickered across her face. she laughed his name, "what are you talking about?"
"you don't have to dream about it, baby."
the silence that followed stretched before he finally said it.
"i bought it."
she blinked…once…twice.
the words clearly didn't fully register and he wanted to kiss her stupid as she gave him a look of pure confusion.
"i bought the townhouse, baby.” he said stalking closer to her, his shoes echoing throughout the room.
still nothing.
her mouth opened slightly.
closed it.
opened again.
jack fought back a smile because for someone so smart, she looked completely lost.
"you..." her voice disappeared.
jack nodded trying to get it out of her.
"i bought it." he said cocooning her into his arms as if to block her away from the rest of the world.
another heartbeat passed.
then another.
finally her eyes widened.
not a little.
a lot.
the kind of realization that arrives all at once. it was sudden and overwhelming and her heart was beating so fast she could have sworn that he could hear it.
"f-for us?" the question cracked in the middle.
jack's expression softened immediately.
"yeah." his voice was gentle, “so we can have somewhere that's ours."
the tears arrived instantly.
jack sighed.
because of course they did.
she slapped both hands over her face.
which somehow made it worse.
"sweetheart—"
"you bought me a house?”
his laugh filled the room. "i bought us a house."
"a whole house, jack."
"technically it's a townhouse." he teased causing her to let out a watery laugh.
then immediately started crying harder.
“i want you to decorate it however you want and i’m gonna help you.” he said softly, moving her hair behind her shoulders as she looked up at him. “we’re gonna make it ours.”
the next thing jack knew, she was throwing her arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong arms around her small frame.
of course he caught her automatically.
strong freckled arms wrapping around her waist as she buried her face against his chest.
the familiar scent of coffee and aftershave surrounded her instantly.
safe, comforting, home.
kack rested his chin on top of her head, holding her tightly. neither of them spoke for a while.
they just stood there in the middle of their future living room as the sunlight poured in around them.
the house quiet and waiting.
finally she tilted her head back enough to look at him.
her eyes were red and her cheeks damp.
beautiful.
"you remembered." the words were tiny they made jack frown.
"remembered what?" he wanted to know, as he wiped his thumb against her wet cheeks.
she laughed softly. "the windows."
his expression immediately melted because of course that's what she was talking about.
not the price, or the size and not even the investment of it all.
the windows.
the thing she'd mentioned months ago during a random walk.
"the balcony." her voice trembled.
"the flower boxes."
jack brushed his thumb against her bottom lip as it quivered.
"i remember everything you tell me." he mused.
and judging by the way her face crumpled, that might have been the most emotional thing he'd said all day.
—
later, after the realtor returned and paperwork was discussed and the reality of it all slowly settled around them, they found themselves standing on the little front patio.
the one she'd always admired and pointed out dozens of times.
jack handed her the key, simple and unassuming. yet somehow heavier than anything she'd ever held before.
she stared at it in her palm, then up at him, then back at the house.
their house. their future.
their home.
jack leaned down and kissed her forehead softly before giving her the smile that destroyed her every single time because it was the kind of smile he reserved only for her.
"what do you say we go back and start to unpack" he hummed.
and this time, when she looked at the townhouse, she didn't have to imagine anymore.
your underground rapper boyfriend always gets horny after performing.
pairing — fem!reader x trapstar!rafe
warnings — vaginal sex. drugs. grinding. masturbation. hand in mouth. dirty talk. groping. choking.
the penthouse smelled like a mix of weed and rafe's cologne that always lingered when he was prepping for a show. you were sprawled on your stomach across the big sectional in rafe's downtown penthouse, legs kicked up behind you swinging lazily like a bored kitten.
the micro shorts you had on rode up just enough to show the curve of your ass while you scrolled laughing at some dumb video.
rafe stood in front of the floor length mirror while his stylist adjusted the fit. tonight was one of those underground club shows in brooklyn. the kind of shows where the crowd knew every word even if he wasn't on mainstream radio yet.
"black hoodie or white one?" the stylist asked, holding both chrome hearts hoodies up against rafe's chest.
rafe had a cigarette tucked between his lips, barely paying attention as he checked his phone. "don't matter to me." he murmured around the smoke, voice low and raspy.
the stylist sighed and glanced over at you. "what do you think, doll? you're the one who's gotta look at him all night."
you lifted your head, vape in hand, and tilted it side to side like you were judging a fashion show with your pretty face. "mmm... black makes him look scary. like he's gonna rob a bank.
rafe smirked around the cig, not even looking away from his reflection. "black one then."
you smiled big, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "can i wear the white one then?"
the stylist looked at rafe. he gave a small unbothered nod, smoke curling up past his sharp jaw. "yeah let her have it."
the stylist tossed the white chrome hearts hoodie your way and you let out the cutest little squeak-scream, rolling onto your back and hugging it to your chest.
"it's gonna look big on you." rafe said, finally turning around with that lazy grin.
you sat up fully, legs still dangling, and hit him with the dirtiest little smile. "i like big things."
rafe barked out a laugh and shook his head, running a tattooed hand through his messy dirty blonde hair. the stylist chuckled too, packing up some pieces. "yall are nasty as hell."
"bro i did nothing" rafe protested, pointing the cigarette at you. "she's the dirty minded one. always got her mind in the gutter."
you grabbed one of the throw pillows and launched it at him, giggling the whole time. it bounced off his chest and you jumped up from the couch, barefoot padding over to where he stood. the white hoodie already halfway pulled over your micro shorts and top.
you pulled out your phone and started recording him while the stylist was finishing his hair, zooming in on how focused he looked. "look how cute you get when they're doing your hair" you teased, voice sweet and bubbly.
"delete that shit right now." rafe muttered, but there was no real bite. his blue eyes were soft on you through the mirror.
"nuh uh" you sang, still filming, biting your lip at how good he looked.
he finally turned, grabbed your phone gently and set it down before his hands found your waist. those tattooed fingers slipped under the hem of the white hoodie and gave your ass a firm pat, squeezing once like he couldn't help himself.
"go finish getting ready, baby. we leave in thirty. don't make me come drag you out the bathroom."
you leaned up on your toes and kissed the corner of his mouth, tasting the cigarette. "yes sir."
later when you were fully dressed, you stood in the mirror and snapped a cute mirror pic, added a little heart emoji and a song snippet from one of rafe's unreleased tracks, then posted it to your instagram story.
nothing too obvious, but enough for the internet to keep whispering about you two.
rafe came up behind you, arms wrapping around your middle. he rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes low from the percs he took earlier for the show. "you look too good in my shit. gets me fucking horny."
you grinned, blowing a strawberry cloud over your shoulder at him. "you are the nasty one"
he kissed your neck, hands sliding down to grip your hips harder.
during rafe's set, you stayed backstage the whole time just with the crew moving around you. the club was packed and you kept peeking through the side curtain, phone in hand, filming little clips of him on stage like the proudest girlfriend alive.
rafe looked insane under the red and purple lights — black hoodie up, chains swinging, that menacing stare while he spat bars. his voice raw and raspy over the beat, crowd screaming every word back at him.
you were biting your lip the whole time, your heart doing that fluttery thing it always did when you watched him perform.
when the set ended and the crowd was still losing it, rafe came off stage sweaty, adrenaline pumping. you immediately went to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tiptoeing in your thigh highs to press a soft peck on his cheek.
"you killed it baby." you whispered against his sweaty skin.
he smirked, already pulling a cigarette from his pocket. the club promoter came over right away, clapping rafe on the back. "that shit was crazy, cameron. you got the whole spot buzzed tonight. you're welcome back anytime."
rafe nodded, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth, casual as ever. "appreciate it. we'll run it back then."
you let out a small yawn, covering it with your hand. rafe turned at the sound. "yo baby, you tryna leave or you wanna stay?" he asked, pupils blown wide from the coke and whatever else was in his system, that hazy blue stare locking on you.
you laughed softly and grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks a little. "you're flying right now, aren't you?"
rafe just smiled that lazy, wasted smile and ate your mouth right there in the middle of the backstage area. tongue deep, one hand gripping your waist under his oversized white hoodie you were still wearing.
people around pretended they weren't looking. the crew members suddenly were very focused on packing cables and cases, but you could feel the eyes. rafe didn't care. he never did.
outside by the blacked-out van waiting. rafe had his hood up, cigarette almost finished, leaning against the side of the vehicle.
he pulled you close, voice low against your ear. "how about you get in the back and blow me real quick, hm?"
you shook your head with a teasing grin, pushing his chest lightly. "not right here, rafe. driver's literally waiting for us."
he groaned dramatically, head falling back against the van like he was suffering. "c'mon baby... i'm so painfully horny right now."
you giggled and decided to torture him a little more. glancing around to make sure the street was mostly empty, you lifted the hem of your top (and his white hoodie) just enough to flash him your tits, perky and cold in the night air. "you always get horny after a show"
rafe's eyes dropped instantly, breath catching as he reached out with those tattooed hands and groped them so casually.
"fuck... i love these." he panted, pupils still shot, squeezing gently but greedily.
you leaned in and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss right over the hard bulge in his jeans, lips lingering just enough to make him twitch. rafe looked down at you with those completely wasted eyes, lips parted, looking so gone for you it was almost cute.
you straightened up, fixed your top, and kissed him sweetly on the mouth this time. then you tugged at his hoodie strings, pulling him closer like he was your favorite toy. you hummed happily and climbed into the van with him.
finally at rafe's penthouse, he was deep in the comedown now. eyes heavy, movements slow and stumbling as the coke started to crash on him.
"come on baby, almost there." you whispered sweetly, almost innocent.
you pushed him gently until he sat on the edge of the big bed, legs spread, black hoodie still on. he looked so pretty, god. you stepped back a little, biting your lip as you started stripping slow for him. first the hoodie, then the top underneath, letting your tits bounce free.
you turned around, arching your back while sliding the micro skirt and shorts down your legs, rubbing your ass against his lap teasingly as you moved.
rafe smiled lazily, that wasted but hungry look on his face. his hand came up fast, covering your mouth gently but firm as you stood between his legs. "love that i can touch you however i want."
his other hand traced your waist, fingers sliding down slowly until he cupped your pussy, middle finger brushing through your wetness. you laughed against his palm, and slapped his chest playfully.
"rafe." you mumbled against his hand, voice muffled and bratty. "you're so desperate already."
he grinned and suddenly grabbed you, throwing you onto the bed with that easy strength. you bounced once on the mattress, giggling as he stood up and stripped.
black hoodie off, chains clinking, jeans and boxers shoved down. his dick was already hard, the tip leaking as he looked at you like he was starving.
"let me fuck you already." he said, voice raspy and yearning, crawling over you. "been thinking about this pussy the whole ride home."
you smirked up at him, legs wrapping loosely around his waist. "yall rappers only think about sex, huh?"
rafe laughed low and covered your mouth again with his tattooed hand. "my baby's so smart," he murmured, eyes half-lidded. "you're always talking shit with that pretty mouth."
he pulled back a little, sitting on his knees as he started jerking himself slow, watching you. you spread your legs wider and touched yourself too, fingers circling your clit, soft moans slipping out while you stared at him.
"rafe... i want it." you whined, voice breathy.
"then suck me first, baby. c'mere." he said, guiding his dick toward your mouth with one hand.
you made the cutest horny face, eyes big and needy, but shook your head a little. "no... i wanna grind on you. please?"
rafe groaned deep, head falling back for a second. "fuck... yeah, go on then. come here."
he laid back fully on the bed and you climbed on top, straddling him. his big hands grabbed your hips tight, fingers digging into your smaller frame as you started grinding down on his dick.
it wasn't inside yet, just sliding between your wet folds, sloppy and messy, your arousal coating him completely. every roll of your hips made wet sounds fill the room, his tip bumping your clit over and over.
"mmm yeah, fuck... just like that." rafe breathed. "look how wet you got me, baby."
you braced your hands on his chest, hips moving faster, grinding harder. "feels so good... your dick is so warm." you moaned soft, voice all sweet and filthy.
he squeezed your ass with both hands, guiding your movements, eyes locked on where your bodies kept sliding together. "keep going, pretty. before i slide in... you want it deep?"
you nodded desperately, leaning down to kiss his neck while you kept grinding, your tits pressed against his chest. "yes... mhm, but not yet. i like when you look at me so pretty."
rafe chuckled breathlessly, tattooed hand sliding to your throat, holding you lightly as you moved on him. his hips started bucking up gently to meet your grinding, chains cold against your skin.
"you're fucking evil, gets me so turned on." he whispered, voice breaking into a groan when you rolled your hips just right. "keep making those sounds for me."
you kept sliding your soaked pussy up and down his dick. the wet sounds filling the quiet penthouse bedroom.
you bit your lip, looking down at him with that horny little face, hands braced on his chest. “i can feel you throbbing between my pussy." you whispered, letting your wetness smear across his lower stomach.
rafe’s eyes were heavy burning. he suddenly sat up halfway as he pulled you closer. “let me fuck you proper” he murmured against your ear, voice raspy.
he lifted your hips just enough and lined himself up. you moaned loud as he pushed in deep in one slow, thick stroke, stretching you open. your smaller body shivered on top of him, back arching hard.
“oh my god… rafe." you whimpered against his neck, eyes rolling a little. “you’re so deep already.”
“mhm baby, that's the point.” he breathed, starting to thrust up into you while holding your hips down. the wet slapping sounds got louder, nastier, your arousal dripping down his balls every time he bottomed out. “this pussy is so fucking tight and wet for me.”
you started riding him properly, bouncing on his dick while his hand stayed over your throat. your tits bounced with every movement and rafe couldn’t stop staring, free hand grabbing one roughly, pinching your nipple.
“harder" you begged, voice muffled and needy against his tattooed fingers. “fuck me harder, baby… i want it.”
he groaned and flipped you suddenly, putting you on your back without pulling out. now on top, he hooked your legs over his arms and started pounding you deep, chains swinging against your chest with every thrust. the bed creaked under you two.
“like this?” he panted. “you like when i fuck you stupid, doll?”
“yes— fuck yes!" you moaned, nails digging into his back. “don’t stop… you feel so good stretching me out. i’m—”
rafe covered your mouth again, slamming into you faster and relentless. “then cum on my dick while i fill your insides.”
rafe groaned loud, burying himself deep and creaming all inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode it out. right after, your legs started shaking, back arching hard as you came hard around him.
both of you were breathing heavy, bodies sticky and spent. after a few minutes rafe pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak out of you with satisfied eyes.
he reached over to the nightstand, grabbed a few tissues and gently wiped between your legs, cleaning you up careful and sweet even though he was still half gone from the comedown.
“how i love sex." he kissed your thigh, voice sleepy but firm.
you giggled softly, kissing his jaw as he buried his face in your neck, already drifting. one tattooed hand resting possessively on your ass, the other stroking your back slowly.
Summary: He's always behind you. Silently watching and protecting you.
Shawn Hatosy Masterlist
You know he's behind you. The air shifts whenever he's near. That and you get a whiff of his cologne.
So without looking behind you, you continue to push the grocery cart down the aisle. You stick your hand out behind you and his hand immediately slips into yours.
You turn to him and softly smile, "Hi," you lean in and press your lips to his in a quick kiss.
"Hi," he lowly murmurs back. Without saying another word, he grabs your hips and moves you to the side, taking the cart from you. You giggle and walk ahead, going down your grocery lists. Pope silently follows behind you.
__________________
The step stool gives you an extra boost. There's a large bowl on the very top shelf that you need so you can Lena can bake cookies. You grab it, but lean too far back. Your heart drops as you brace for impact, but a pair of arms catch you instead.
"Holy crap," you murmur, looking at your savior.
Pope tsks and shakes your head, "You need to be more careful." He helps you stand up right as you hand Lena the mixing bowl.
You give him a sheepish smile, "I know, but you're also always there to catch me, right?"
He silently rolls his eyes and watches as you and Lena start gathering the rest of the ingredients to bake.
He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He says things here and there, answers a question or two when Lena asks.
"Okay, now we need to get a whisk-oh! Thanks, babe!" Pope is already holding out a whisk to you that he grabbed as you were reading the instructions aloud. You kiss his cheek in appreciation and hand the whisk to Lena.
He comes up behind you, hugging you from behind and resting his head against yours as you watch his niece mix the cookie ingredients all together.
_____________________
You'd just dried yourself off after a shower. You're standing at the bathroom sink, drying out your hair when Pope appears in the threshold. He leans against the wall, watching you. You catch his eyes in the reflection and softly smile at him. You go back to getting ready for bed.
After setting the hair dryer down, you go to grab your brush, but you see Pope standing behind you already, brush in hand. You stand there as he brushes through your hair, careful not to hurt you in anyway.
Once he's done, he sets the brush down and kisses your head. He goes back to being a silent observer.
You grab your skincare and start your routine. You feel his eyes completely focused on you the entire time. You don't feel unsettled. You feel seen, appreciated, loved, and protected.
______________________
"Does he do that all the time?" Your friend, Ella, asks, nodding to Pope who's sitting at the bar counter, watching you.
You glance at him over your shoulder and then turn back to Ella, "He's protective of me."
"It's creepy."
You roll your eyes, having explained this to several people beforehand, "It's how he shows he cares. Besides, he's out DD if we get too fucked up."
"That's what Ubers are for."
You scoff, "Why pay for a ride when Andrew can drive us for free?"
"Okay, but he's been staring at you nonstop," her eyes glance back at Pope in a disgusted way, "He's not controlling or anything, is he?" she looks at you seriously, silently asking a question you've gotten before.
You sigh, "I'm fine. I promise. Andrew's not like that. He just shows his love and care differently than others. It took me some time to understand it too, but he treats me so much better than anyone has."
Ella slowly nods, "Alright, but if he hurts you in anyway-"
You chuckle, "I know, girl. I'll let you know."
_____________________
Pope brought you to The Drop so he can discuss some things with his brothers. You're sitting at the counter, drinking a soda, and scrolling through your phone when a man decides to take up residence right next to you.
You sigh and say, "Not interested," without looking up from your phone.
The man scoffs, "Not even gonna let me say 'hi' or nothing?"
"Nope," you don't give the man any satisfaction of looking at him. Instead you continue drinking your soda and scrolling through your phone.
The man fully faces you, "I can treat you real good."
"I'm taken."
"And where's your guy right now, huh?"
"Right here," you hear Pope speak behind you and you smile into your straw. You completely turn to face Pope, "Everything good?"
His eyes soften when he looks at you, "Yeah. Go start the car," he hands his car keys to you.
You close your hands around his, "I'm fine. Let's go." You see him hesitating but immediately nods. You guide him out of the bar and he's following you, but not before sending a deadly glare back to the man who was bothering you.
_______________________
You're sitting in the sand, back pressed against an eroding wall, alone. You just needed some fresh air and sunshine after a rough few days. You listen to the waves crashing against the shore, the sound of children screaming with laughter, seagulls flying above head.
You hear a jingling of keys paired with the sounds of heavy boots approaching. A shadow looms over you, but you know who it is. You look up and see Pope staring down at you. He's giving you a questioning gaze.
"I'm okay. Just needed to think."
He nods and sits on the wall, right behind you. You lean against his legs, his hands resting on your shoulders.
thank u guys for 100 followers and counting omg... lots more filth to come i promise <3
older bf!jack abbot x controversially young gf!reader.
18+. content warnings: daddy kink, age difference, humiliation kinda?
you get out of the shower and pad back into your room. jack's sitting up against the headboard, prosthetic off and leaning against the bedside table. his eyes are alight with indignation.
"i saw your phone," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
you stare back at him, completely nonplussed. no shit he saw your phone, it's laying right next to him. "...okay?"
he doesn't explain just yet, just huffs and points a thick finger at it. "yeah. i texted you an article... and your phone lit up."
you're now more confused than you've been in your whole life. "... that is what you'd expect a phone to do, jack??—"
"—why is my contact name 'megadilf' in your phone?"
your eyes widen and your mouth gapes open just a little. he was never meant to find out. you'd saved it as that after a drunken night out with your friends: you'd been drooling over his big freckled arms and the sun-damaged skin on his neck and how he used full stops at the end of his messages. you kept it that way because you thought it was funny (and also because it was true).
jack's not really mad, in fact, he's far from it. he knows you're into the fact that he's a silver fox, and he loves it: it makes him feel good, decades younger, attractive. but he can see that you're flustered, so he plays into it.
"is that how you see me?" he asks, his sharp eyes roaming over your form as droplets of water make their way down your skin. "i'm just an old man to you? a dusty old bastard?"
you open your mouth to protest, no, it was just a joke, but he cuts you off: "drop your towel and come give your dusty old daddy a kiss."
and his voice is so firm and gravelly, how could you argue with him? you crawl into his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. he turns it hungry, of course. all that dilf talk makes him feel virile.
then he's pounding your brains out, making you confess: "say it for me, baby. say it— say you love old man cock. you love this old man cock, don't you? love my daddy parts even though they're tired? still work good enough to turn your brain off, hmm?" while your eyes roll back into your skull.
"i'm big, thick, and i can still get hard, can't i? that not good enough for you?" and yeah, he fucking can. his dick bullies into your cunt so forcefully that it would probably hurt if you weren't so ridiculously soaked with slick. "that's right, moan for me. let daddy know he's still got it. this dilf can still turn you into a fuckin' fountain, right?"
after he's tired you out, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. "didn't mean it in a bad way," you murmur plaintively into the space between you. "i love being your controversially young girlfriend."
and because jack abbot doesn't use social media, he thinks you invented the phrase yourself, and that you're the funniest person in the world. the whole of the next week he goes around chuckling to himself, "controversially young— fuck, baby, how do you come up with this stuff?"
