Headcanon that Ilya is late to one of their hookups one time and Shane is like what kind of SICK GAME is he PLAYING. So ilya gets there and shanes super irritated which leads to some damn good sex (this is canon) and then ilya reveals that he was late because there was a canada goose in the parking lot that wouldn't let him get near the door.
That was delicious. I genuinely don't think I've seen anyone line up those scene parallels so well before. This was a perfect snapshot of every branch, rock, and mattress they hit on their way down
you ( morgue tech!reader ) are a shy, soft-spoken, and far too good for the world you work in—but dr. jack abbot wants you anyway. wants you especially because of it. he’s older, bigger, rough around the edges, and completely undone by the way you squirms in his lap and stumbles over your words.
you never had anyone take their time with you—never been praised, teased, or touched the way he plans to. and when he finds out just how untouched you really are?
he makes it his mission to teach you everything you didn’t know you needed.
this is not just a series — this is a world. this is out of body experience for morgue girl ( and the reader ). this is a life-altering. this is a soft cinematic universe built from spilt coffee, sterile fluorescents, and jack abbot's absurdly soft hands wrapped around someone who didn't think anyone would take care to notice. this is GOOD GIRL CONFESSIONS .
CHAPTER ONE — NINE ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ completed ❪ 18.9k words ❫
⊹ ࣪ ˖ follows the reluctant tension-filled evolution of jack abbott and a quiet, anxious morgue tech. it begins with exhaustion, mutual annoyance, and an unfortunate first impression. it ends ( temporarily ) in confessions, broken rules, and hands brushing too long by the trauma bay sink and a single earth shattering kiss.
⋆.˚ CHAPTER ONE .' cold and predictable
⋆.˚ CHAPTER TWO .' cold storage
⋆.˚ CHAPTER THREE .' a cold shoulder
⋆.˚ CHAPTER FOUR .' too cold to touch
⋆.˚ CHAPTER FIVE .' cold cut
⋆.˚ CHAPTER SIX .' caught in the cold
⋆.˚ CHAPTER SEVEN .' cold hands
⋆.˚ CHAPTER EIGHT .' left out in the cold
⋆.˚ CHAPTER NINE .' let in from the cold
CHAPTER TEN — NINETEEN ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ongoing ❪ tbd words ❫
⊹ ࣪ ˖ follows post-confession. you’ve admitted too much. jack’s heard too much. and yet neither of you knows what to do with the silence that follows. you keep pretending. he keeps showing up. the hospital keeps getting hottee
⋆.˚ CHAPTER NINETEEN .' heat of the moment ( coming soon )
˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 006
˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 007
˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 008
˚₊‧ 𐙚 THE APPENDIX ⊹ ࣪ ˖
⊹ ࣪ ˖ NIGHT SHIFT — MORGUE NOTES
˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part one
˚₊‧ 𐙚 part two
˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part three
˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames from jack
˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames for jack
layout inspo ||| dividers by @cafekitsune & @uzmacchiato
* ✷ ⊹ * ˚ main masterlist ||| more jack abbot ||| inbox
* ✷ ⊹ * ˚ REQUEST FOR jack abbot x morgue tech!reader
possible trigger warnings * ✷ ⊹ * ˚ lowercase intended!!!! medical trauma, mentions of death, hospital setting ( references to autopsies, corpses, injury, blood ), social anxiety, self-worth issues, body image insecurity ( specifically surrounding reader’s curvier body ), reader internalizes micro-aggressions and negative self-talk, emotional repression, low burn with eventual power imbalance ( not exploitative, but notable that jack is of higher rank but NOT reader's direct superior ), age gap dynamic, jack is gruff and emotionally avoidant at first ( but in his bf!era dw ), SMUT in later chapters ( pls read all content warnings posted at the beginning of each part )
welcome to my master list! more often than not, my work has smut, so please be warned. 18+ is the preference here. I write primarily for Top Gun: Maverick, The Bear and House of the Dragon, though this could change in the future.
Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.
dr. robby x jack's adopted sister, f!intern!reader
masterlist
content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, swearing, alcohol, drug mention (fentanyl), reader is roofied (everything is fine she is unharmed), parental death mention, jack widow mention, some (minor) violence between jack/robby, canon medical gore, age gap, angst (resolved by end)
words: 9.5K
synopsis: based on this request, reader is jack's adopted sister doing her surgical residency at PTMC. jack introduces reader to robby in the hopes that he will be a good mentor to her, but their relationship quickly blurs professional lines.
a/n: thank you guys for being so encouraging about this one!! i hope it lives up to expectations. i'm kinda nervous, honestly. the first like 1K of this is verbatim from the blurb so you can scroll through if you've already read that part. ok hehe enjoy pls come yap to me about it later <3 syd
Your legs were bent nearly behind your ears when you heard Jack knocking and calling your name at the door of your apartment.
Robby was so deep inside you, scrambling both nerves and thoughts and any fucking sense you had that it took you too long to register who it was. You lost precious seconds of potential crisis management to the relentless stroke of his cock inside you, your walls clenching tighter and tighter around him as you were being dangled off the steep cliff of bliss until—
“Fuck—Fuck! Stop—“ You tried to push against him, but it was no use, the man might as well have been a fucking boulder.
Robby only pushed deeper, making it impossible for you to continue your squirming, “Just don’t answer it.”
“He has a key—“
Finally, his hips halted and you watched, stricken, as the pleasure in his eyes slowly drained and was replaced with steady horror as you both heard the jangle of keys outside the door.
He cursed under his breath as he nearly leaped off and out of you—the sudden absence of him leaving you with a feeling of hollowness.
"Get in the closet." You hissed, hopping around as you tried desperately to pull on a pair of pants. You heard the clatter of keys against hardwood and Jack's soft cursing and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for granting you more time.
"You want me to get in the closet?" Robby hissed back as he tried to collect his clothing, strewn haphazardly around the apartment from when you had been frantically making out and ripping each other's clothes off, "Have you seen my shirt?"
"We don't have time for this," You whispered and placed your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards until you were at the closet. You opened the door and unceremoniously shoved him inside it, not waiting for his response before closing the door in his face.
At that same moment, your apartment door opened.
When you started at PTMC as a surgery intern and Jack introduced you to Robby, the infatuation had been almost instant on your end. There was nothing you loved more than a tall, bearded man who could be a little mean. Whenever the ER called down for a surgery resident, you practically jumped at the opportunity, bouncing up and down on your heels as the elevator slowly ticked down, down, down to the Pitt. It had been an effort to finally get him in your bed, more effort than you had probably ever put in for a sexual partner. But it was worth every second.
It was immediately obvious to Robby that you had a chip on your shoulder from being raised in your brother’s shadow, but he was oblivious to your yearnings for an agonizingly long time.
Because your parents had adopted you when Jack was well into high school, he affectionately referred to you as their mid life crisis. Jack adored you, but he was your brother. And so he pushed and teased and mocked your whole life.
So while it was nice that Robby was your type, it was more thrilling to know just how much it would get under Jack's skin to know that Robby was fucking you. Because regardless of your differences, Jack had always been protective of you and you knew he would lose his fucking mind if he knew. And Robby knew it too.
And so, even though part of you wanted Jack to find out, to grant yourself the satisfaction of knowing you had pissed off the unflappable Jack Abbot, most of you was a little nervous to find out what he would do if he found out.
You were running to the front door when Jack walked in, looking at you with confusion as he took in your appearance. Clothes crooked, hair mussed, mascara smudged under your eyelids, face glowing and sticky with exertion.
Slowly a smile stretched across his face, "Are you—Is someone here?"
"No," You said quickly, too quickly, "Just me. What're you doing here?" You hugged your arms around yourself subconsciously.
Jack continued to eye you curiously and held out the Stanley cup in his hand. Your Stanley. "You left this in the Pitt."
You took it reluctantly, "You could've left it at my locker."
"Yeah, I could've, but I wanted to see you. Feel like I haven't seen you in weeks—"
"Well, I'm busy, so. You should've called first." You snapped.
Jack was unbothered though, "Who's here?"
"No one you know. Now could you please get out?"
Jack gave a short laugh, "Right. No one I know. You don't have a social life outside the hospital. You want me to believe you're sleeping with someone I don't know?"
Before you could argue, your eyes caught on a black scrub top to your left, poking out from under the console table in your entryway. You remembered now how you had whined desperately with Robby's body pinning you to the wall until he had pulled it up and over his head.
And Jack followed your gaze, smile only growing when he saw it too, "That's a black scrub top." His eyes went back to yours, "Who are you fucking in the Pitt?"
He was moving towards the shirt and you stepped in front of him, "Jack—"
"Is it Shen?" He was stronger than you, so it wasn't much of a fight for him to push you to the side, "Or… It's not the Whitaker kid, is it?" He made a face as he bent to pick up the scrub top—
When his hand closed around it and he started to straighten to standing, there was a clatter as a badge, forgotten beneath the heap of a shirt, fell back to the floor, face up.
You watched, frozen, as his eyes took in his best friend's smiling face looking up at him from the piece of plastic. You thought from the look on his face, he was probably processing denial for about twenty seconds before he moved to the next stage of grief: anger.
He clenched his jaw as he looked back up to you, Robby's shirt still clutched in his hand. You watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed and whispered, voice soft as death, "Where is he?"
"Jack," You said softly, "Please don't do this."
He brushed past you, "Robby," He called, "I know you're here, you sick fuck!"
"Jack!" You pulled on his arm to make him face you, greeted with a rage you hadn't seen from him… Maybe ever. His nostrils flared and his jaw was clenched so tight, you started to wonder if he had cracked a tooth.
"I'm an adult," You tried to say firmly, but your voice wavered, "I can sleep with whoever I want, you're being ridiculous."
He only shook his head, "Not him." He said and wrenched his arm from your grasp as he started walking down the hallway towards your bedroom.
You trailed after him, dragging your feet, and watched from your doorway as he looked through your room, poked his head in your bathroom, "You're acting literally insane right now." You said mildly, having resigned yourself quickly to this situation.
Jack ignored you, "Don't be a coward, Robby." He turned back to face you, "Where the fuck is he?"
The closet door creaked open before you had a chance to respond and your stomach sank. Robby was flushed red as he slunk out of the closet, hands clutching his clothes in front of his naked body. His eyes were locked on Jack's as he said quietly, "I'm sorry."
It felt like a punch to the gut to hear him apologize. You hadn't done anything wrong, and fuck, the sex had been good. Great, even. But that was regret in his voice… and shame. About you.
"Don't apologize to him," You said, aware that you sounded like you were whining, "He's the one who should be apologizing for making such a goddamn scene."
But they both ignored you. Jack flung Robby's shirt at him as if it were a bomb and Robby caught it with a free hand, "I asked you to keep an eye on her as a mentor, I didn't think I needed to specify that you shouldn't fuck her."
"I know," Robby said and looked down. You couldn't believe this.
"She's just a fucking kid."
You want to yell at them both that you're right fucking here. That you're not a kid, despite the fact that you feel your eyes burning with embarrassment. That when Robby again says "I know," you feel the urge to shove him back in the closet or pound your fists against his chest. He didn't think you were such a kid when he was pounding into you just ten minutes ago.
"Jack, I swear. I—I tried really fuckin' hard not to—"
Jack laughed, "Oh, did you? Did she fucking handcuff you to the bed? Is that it? She forced you?"
Robby sighed and shook his head, "You don't understand—"
"I don't understand?" Jack was shouting now, "I've had students crush on me before, so the fuck have you. You shut that shit down! I know you know this! And of all fucking people you—you break your own rules for my sister?"
"I want you both out of here." You said finally, before Robby could say something else that would crush your feelings and your ego. Which they were both doing a spectacular job of at the moment, grinding you like dust beneath their shoes in your own fucking bedroom, "You can both sort out your own fucking issues away from me. And neither one of you better fucking call me."
Finally, Robby seemed to remember you were there and murmured a soft, "Sweetheart—" Which earned him a scathing glare from Jack.
"No," You said and turned from the room, beginning to walk away from them both, "Put your clothes on and go. If the two of you want to talk about me like I'm a fucking child, you can do it outside of my apartment."
You heard Jack come up beside you, "I want to have a conversation with you about this—"
You looked at him and laughed incredulously, "If you wanted to have a conversation with me about it, you should've thought about that before you started running through my apartment like a lunatic on a rampage. Now I want you out." Your voice broke on the last word and you hated yourself when you felt the tears collecting in your eyes.
Jack was looking at you with pleading eyes. He reached for you and you knew he wanted to hug you, but you shoved his arm away.
"Please just go." You said softly, "I want to be alone."
You stood in your living room, arms crossed and faced away from your entryway. You waited until you heard both sets of feet leave your apartment, the door shut quietly behind them.
***
When Jack first introduced you to Robby, his hands affectionately squeezing your shoulders from behind you, you slapping his hands away in annoyance, Robby thought Another Abbot. Cute.
And for a while, it was easy to see you just as cute, adorable in the way your kid sister is. Until he started to notice the effect he had on you.
At first, it was so small, he barely noticed. A slight tremor in your hand if he reached over to guide you through a procedure if your attending wasn't around. Easily attributable to nerves. A low gasp when his body pushed up behind you while working on a trauma, his hands steadying your hips as he moved past.
As a man of empirical data, he felt it was his scientific obligation to test his hypothesis. The null hypothesis being, you didn't have a crush on him and all your reactions could be attributed to anxiety that was professional in origin.
But as the days and weeks passed your reaction to him, to his proximity, to his praise, was constant. And you were starting to reciprocate his touches, his flirting. You even got so bold as to push your ass back into his hips once when he was trying to get by and he was the one who was then flustered, nearly tripping over the tray next to you that Princess had set up.
You had grinned innocently, eyes still glued to the patient and said, "Something startle you, Dr. Robby?"
He had let out an incredulous laugh and came back to your side. He thought it was probably safe to reject his null hypothesis at this point. He was positive you were crushing on him now, and now that he had started feeding into it, you might have assumed he felt the same.
You wouldn't be wrong to assume that. The more he toyed with you, the more he found himself enjoying it. Found himself pushing farther and farther, squeezing your hips lightly as he went by, hand wandering dangerously close to your ass as he moved. Leaning in closer than necessary to murmur instruction, making sure his hot breath caressed the shell of your ear in a way that had goosebumps rising on your neck.
When he wasn't in the ER, almost against his will he found his mind wandering to you when his fist was wrapped around his cock in the shower. The sounds of your gasps, the heat of your body against his, the soothing cadence of your voice when you gave an order and looked to him for approval. More and more often you wormed yourself into all of his fantasies. And later, he'd be sick with guilt, especially if he saw Jack.
Back at your side next to the patient, he watched you closely before he was finally able to tear his gaze away and back down to the patient.
"You do not wanna go down this road, sweetheart." He said darkly, quiet enough that only you could hear him.
"Why's that?" You murmured back.
"I could list a myriad of reasons, chief of which is that your brother would kick my ass."
You hummed, "Probably," Finally, you looked back up at him, mischief glinting in your eyes, "But that's half the fun, don't you think?"
Before he could respond you pushed yourself away from the patient, peeling the gloves from your hands, "Send him up to CT, we'll get an OR prepped in the meantime."
And then you were gone and Robby was stuck feeling like he had lost control of a ship he had thought he was the captain of. But as he blinked his eyes open, it was you at the bow, steering the both of you directly into a storm.
***
Robby closed the door to your apartment quietly behind him, now fully dressed and dripping in shame. It seemed in one afternoon he had likely lost his best friend and also the one other person he had started to feel something for that ran deeper than surface level.
He turned his head to see Jack leaning against the wall, arms crossed and shooting daggers at him.
"Jack, I really am sor—"
But he didn't get the chance to finish his apology because Jack had pushed himself up off the wall and unceremoniously smashed his fist into Robby's face.
With a groan, Robby fell back against your door, his cheek throbbing as he slid to the ground. Through his dizziness, he watched Jack walk away and down the hall without another word.
When Robby brought a hand up to his cheek, he felt the warm stickiness of blood beneath the pads of his fingers and winced.
Perhaps hearing the scuffle outside, your door opened again and Robby nearly fell over, his weight previously being held by the door.
At the sight of Robby on the ground, face already beginning to swell, you sighed, "Get inside."
Robby's knees protested as he stood back up and shuffled back into your apartment. He heard the sound of your freezer opening and closing and then you reappeared in front of him, a cold compress in your hand and some gauze for the blood.
"Sit down." You said quietly, gesturing to the seat at your kitchen table. He watched you silently as he did, but you were carefully avoiding his gaze. He noted the shine in your eyes, the furrow of your brow. You had both known the risks you were taking with one another, but Robby still blamed himself for whatever hurt you were now bearing.
Gently, you dabbed at the small cut at the top of his cheekbone, pausing whenever he winced, "Anything feel broken to you?"
"No," Robby said softly, "I don't think so." He wished you would look at him. Give him any inclination that you didn't hate him too.
You pressed the cold compress to his cheek and when he grimaced, your eyes finally darted to his, "You're lucky." You said slowly, "I've seen him do much worse. I'd go so far as to say he let you off easy on purpose."
Robby laughed, but it turned quickly to a groan of pain, "Doesn't feel like that."
You swallowed, "He'll come around, he loves you."
Robby's hand came up to the compress, covering your hand with his own, "No, he loves you."
Your jaw clenched, "He treats me like I'm still a child rather than a grown woman with agency who can decide whom she wants to sleep with. And then you turned around and did the same."
He sighed, "I don't think of you like that anymore. I just… I understand why he does." When you didn't say anything to that, he continued, "He told me a story once, years ago, when you were still in high school. He said some kid was bullying you and he paid the kid off to leave you alone. But he made sure to tell him that he wasn't above fighting a kid if he didn't follow through on his side of the deal."
You shook your head, "That kid invited me to prom as a joke and stood me up. Jack ended up dislocating his shoulder."
"Kid didn't know what he missed out on. A dislocated shoulder was a kindness, comparatively."
You tilted your head sideways, giving him a skeptical look, "I'm still mad at you." You said softly.
He nodded, "Yeah, it's going around."
You slipped your hand from the compress, stepping back from him to create some space. You didn't trust yourself not to keep touching him, "So are we, um," You cleared your throat, "Are we done now?"
The honest truth was, he didn't know. For himself, he had still been trying to figure out if what he felt for you went beyond the game the two of you had been playing. And he had always suspected you wouldn't find him so appealing once Jack found out. Once the excitement wore off.
He was too old for you, he didn't want to be responsible for hijacking your youth. You deserved someone young and spry who could give you a happy, normal relationship. Not whatever this mess was.
But he was selfish and couldn't close the door completely, "I don't know." He said quietly.
You nodded, your face not betraying any emotion. He hated that about you, that you were so good at concealing what you were feeling. It was only when Jack was here earlier that you had let your guard down enough. He always wished he could get a better read on you.
"You should go," You said finally, "If I know Jack he'll be back here in a couple hours, once he's cooled off."
He nodded and handed the cold compress back to you, but you shook your head, "Keep it. You can give it back another time."
Robby stood and pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left your apartment again.
***
It was months before Robby finally gave in to his desire to feel you. It was the middle of the night on a Saturday and his phone was ringing.
Robby fumbled in the dark for it on nightstand, eyes still closed, before he picked up.
"Robby, it's Jack."
Robby rubbed at his eyes as he sat up in bed, "What's wrong?"
If Jack was calling him from the Pitt in the middle of the night, Robby's mind was already grappling with worst case scenarios: an MCI, a power outage and emergency generator failure, one or multiple staff somehow dead or injured—
"Sorry to call so late, you're just the only one I trust with this." And then, he started talking about you, "She got a flat on her way home from a friend's place and she called triple A, but that could be hours. I don't want her waiting on the side of the road that long by herself."
Robby was already out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder, "You didn't teach her how to change a tire?" He teased.
"Of course I did." Jack said, "I've showed her four or five times. If she's not interested it's like talking to a wall."
Robby smirked, "Tell her to cancel triple A and send me her location."
When he pulled up behind your car, you were leaning against it, phone in your hand. You mindlessly chewed on a nail from your free hand.
Squinting at his headlights, you looked up when he approached. He parked and turned off his lights.
You shook your head as he walked towards you, "I told him not to call you."
"What, you're not happy to see me?"
This pulled a slight smirk from you, "I'm always happy to see my favorite ER attending."
Robby grimaced as he walked to the back of your car, searching for your spare in the trunk, "Don't let Jack hear you say that."
"I won't," You said and bit your lip, "Just like I'd never tell him that I'm your favorite Abbot."
He laughed and shook his head, pulling out your spare tire and the tools he's need to swap it out, "Now what would give you that idea?"
"I don't think you'd roll out of bed in the middle of the night for just anyone, would you?"
"I'm doing this for Jack, not for you." He started to get set up next to the car, "You think you could use the flashlight on your phone to give me some light?"
You obliged him and sat in the dirt next to the car, shining the light towards his hands as they worked, "So you're not happy to see me?" You threw back at him, playfully deepening your voice in an attempt to mock.
He spared you what he wanted to be an annoyed glance, but he thought he probably just ended up looking at you fondly, "I don't sound like that."
You tilted your head to the side, "You didn't answer my question."
He sighed heavily and started cranking the car jack in order to lift the vehicle high enough so he could remove your tire, "Didn't I tell you already that you don't want to go down this road with me?"
You squinted up towards the sky, feigning recollection, "And I thought I told you that that only makes it more fun for me."
He silently loosened the bolts on your wheel, choosing not to humor you. Truthfully, he had jumped at the opportunity to see you outside of the Pitt. But Jack had trusted him with keeping you safe. He wanted to honor that trust, regardless of whatever desires were brewing beneath the surface.
"You don't really want me, kid," Robby said as he pulled the flat from your car, "You just want to piss off your brother."
"Why can't it be both?"
He didn't answer that. Swallowed it down and pushed the spare onto the axle, started screwing the bolts back into place.
"Come on, Robby. I've seen the way you look at me. I'm not blind."
He tightened each bolt with care and then rose to standing, started lowering the car jack. Robby couldn't look at you, felt he was on the verge of crossing lines he absolutely under no circumstances should cross.
And sure enough, when he felt he could trust himself enough to turn back and look at you, he's wrong. He was so very mistaken to trust himself like this. Because you're standing very close to him, a smug look on your face when you notice how nervous you've made him.
"Abbot," He said softly, breath wavering, "Don't push me."
It was a mistake to provoke you like that. You brought your hands up to his chest, placed your palms flat against him, and gently pushed until his back hit your car, "Or what?" You whispered.
Robby's hands were raised by his ears in surrender, but he wasn't going to last very long. He thought you probably already knew how desperate he was by the smug look in your eyes, "If I put my hands on you," He said slowly, "I'm not gonna stop."
"You say that like it's a threat," You fisted the fabric of his t-shirt in your hands and pulled just—Your lips now centimeters apart.
Robby could taste your breath now, and just your proximity alone had his blood pumping between his legs, "It is." He nearly growled.
Your eyes darted down to his mouth and he watched as you licked your lips, then slowly traced a path back up to his eyes, "Are you gonna kiss me, Robinavitch? Or do I have to do everything myself?"
Your words hung in the air, suspended between you, for just a moment. He could walk away. Get back in his car. Go home. Pretend none of it ever happened.
But that was never really an option, was it?
He hesitated for only a split second before catching your mouth with his, his hands lowering to tangle themselves in your hair. You groaned in what sounded like surprise, and he wanted to laugh. You had put on such a good front, but you hadn't really thought he would give in. Clearly, you had no idea the extent to which you had taken root in his brain, in his skin, in his very being.
You had come like a thief in the night, setting traps and stealing his things, and he thought when he followed your clues that he was trying to get you out of his house. The clues had led him straight to you where you had made a home in his attic and instead of kicking you out, he asked you to make room for him.
It seemed that you were just as hungry as he was, pulling him tighter against you, your soft hands wandering underneath his shirt as he sucked your tongue into his mouth. His hands secured to your hips, Robby rolled the two of you until it was your back against the car and he pushed you up, until you sat on the hood.
His lips were frantic as they chased yours, addicted to how soft and pliant they were. He bit down on your lower lip and you moaned into him. He thought he might go insane if he couldn't have you. He felt like at any moment something was going to break the spell and he'd have to take his hands off you and walk away. He wasn't sure he'd be able to, now. His hands impatiently moved up under your shirt, up, up, until he cupped your breasts. His thumbs made slow circles against your nipples and your back arched as you sighed into his mouth—
Your phone was ringing. Still kissing him, you fished it out of your pocket and cracked an eye open to see who the incoming call was from.
"It's Jack—" You said breathlessly.
"Answer it."
"What?" You asked incredulously as Robby kissed along your jawline and up to your ear.
"I said," He whispered, "Answer it."
You blinked a couple of times. You weren't sure exactly what sort of spell Robby had put you under, but surely it was fucking witchcraft that had your thumb swiping across the screen to answer, "Hello?"
Robby started kissing down your neck, to your chest, kissing a line down your shirt to your stomach and you realized immediately what he wanted when he started unbuttoning your jeans.
The fucker made a big show of not wanting to touch you because you were Jack's sister, but it was obvious to you now that he also really wanted to fuck you because you were Jack's sister. You were off limits. Unattainable. Forbidden fruit. And now he wanted to taste you while Jack listened, completely oblivious.
"Is Robby there yet?"
"Yeah," You managed, as Robby pulled your pants down to your knees, "He's swapping out the tire now."
"I tried calling him, he didn't answer."
Robby didn't preamble before his tongue was on you, stroking rough and purposefully along your slit. It was all you could do to stifle a whimper and you felt him grinning against you. Oh, he was gonna pay for this later.
"Yeah… I… I think he left his phone in his car."
You watched as Robby spit on your cunt and then slipped a finger inside you, then a second finger, thrusting so deep inside you, you had to bite down on your fist to stifle the moan that begged to clamber out of your throat.
"You alright?" Jack asked, "You sound weird."
Robby's tongue was swirling around your clit and your eyelids fluttered as the pressure built low in your abdomen.
"Abbot? You still with me?"
"Yeah," You cleared your throat when Robby's tongue flicked over your clit, "All good here. I'll text you when I'm home."
"Maybe I should talk to Robby—"
"My phone's about to die so I really gotta go, Jack—"
"Wait—"
But you had already hung up the phone and it tumbled from your hand into the dirt. Hands now free, you moved them to Robby's head, tugging lightly at his hair as you ground yourself into his mouth.
He grunted into you, fingers of one hand digging divots into your thigh while the other pumped into your mercilessly.
"Robby—" You whined, "—Fuck—Think m'gonna—"
"Go on, baby," He kept his fingers moving inside you even as he looked up at you. Even in the dark, you could see the slick of your juices running down his mouth and beard, "You got it, wanna feel you cum for me."
He latched his mouth back onto your clit, the pace of his tongue relentless against you. Just as you crested the wave of your orgasm, you saw your phone light up in the dirt with another incoming call from Jack.
Your eyes fluttered closed and you whimpered as Robby worked you through your orgasm. On the come down, he kissed up your leg, whispered praises into your skin. He made his way back up to your mouth, his tongue making languid, lazy strokes against yours.
"You're a fuckin' menace," You breathed against him.
He grinned, pushed his head against yours until his nose was nuzzled against yours almost tenderly and you felt your chest grow warm.
"We probably shouldn't have done that," He said finally, lifting you off the hood of the car and back to the ground.
He went to help you pull your pants back up, but you stopped him, "What, you're not gonna fuck me properly?"
The man had just fully eaten you out on the side of the road, but he still had the audacity to blush, "No—I—We shouldn't have—I shouldn't have done that."
"Oh, so you regret it?"
He sighed and leaned his forehead to yours, "No, sweetheart," He said softly, "I don't."
Your stomach fluttered at his admission and you leaned up on your toes to kiss him again, the taste of you still on his tongue.
He moaned into your mouth— And then it was his fucking phone ringing in his pocket and he broke the kiss, reached into his phone to see Jack calling. And the shame and the guilt hit him like a train as he picked up the phone.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Don't you answer your phone?"
Robby turned away from you, not sure he could hold a conversation with Jack while looking at you, "I was swapping out your sister's tire like you asked me to."
"So you're with her?"
"Yeah, why?"
There was a pause on the other line, "She was acting strange on the phone. She seems fine to you?"
Robby ran a hand along the back of his neck, "Yeah. She's fine."
"You'll make sure she gets home okay?"
Robby hung his head, "Of course."
"Thanks, man."
When Robby hung up the phone and looked back over at you, you were smirking, "How's Jackie boy?"
Robby ran a hand over his face, still in quiet disbelief about what he had done. He could lose Jack over this. He didn't have many friends to lose to begin with.
"Get in your car, please. I'll follow you home."
"And then… You'll come inside?"
He shook his head, "No. No, this is never happening again. Understood?"
You nodded slowly, you had gotten fully dressed again while he was on the phone with Jack, "Sure."
"I mean it." He said firmly.
"I know you think you mean it." You said as you climbed into your driver's side, "But you'll find your way into my bed one way or the other."
Already, he was recalling how soft and warm you felt around his fingers. How your walls fluttered around him when you came. The sounds you made, the way you had whimpered his name—
He cleared his throat, and with it, attempted to clear the throbbing that swelled between his legs. He was sure you noticed, though, as he made his way back to his own car. Part of him thought you were likely right, that this was never going to end. That his want, his need to have you would win out in the end. And still, it would probably never be enough.
And so, he followed you back to your house, made sure you got safely inside. His self restraint was strong enough that he made it back to his own home, his own bed.
But you were right. It was less than a week later when he found himself in your bed, cock buried so deep inside you, it made his toes curl to think about it later. Again and again he found himself at your door, begging to be let inside, always saying it would be the last time. You would smirk knowingly as you stepped aside to let him by, because you always knew he didn't mean it.
The days and weeks began to blur, his whole consciousness taken up by you. What were you thinking about, what were you reading, did you eat lunch today, what new restaurants had you tried recently, was your insomnia keeping you up again, did you see that new movie? Did you want to go with him?
They weren't dating, he told himself. It wasn't like that. And you wouldn't want him seriously like that anyway. At least, that's what he told himself when he woke up before you in the mornings. Watched you sleep while the warm amber sun washed over your face. Your lips slightly parted, your light snoring the only sound.
You had somehow wormed your way into becoming one of the most important people in his life, and still, he wouldn't admit it even to himself. Because it was going to implode, one way or the other, and it would hurt a lot less if he convinced himself it didn't mean anything.
He was wrong, though. It was still torture when the glass floor shattered beneath your feet.
***
You had almost fallen asleep on your couch when you heard the tentative knock at your door.
Stretching lazily, you swung your legs over the side of the couch and rose to standing. When you opened the door for Jack, you turned immediately back to the living room without greeting him.
You heard him follow after you and for a few moments, felt him just watch you as you laid back down on the couch and ignored him.
Eventually, he sat down on the couch next to your feet, "I'm sorry… For how I handled the situation earlier." He said slowly, "I should have had a conversation with you about it first."
After a moment, you sat up to face him, tugged your legs to your chest, "Was punching him really necessary?"
He ran a hand over his face and looked away from you, "I know you don't think so, but he's taking advantage of you—"
"Give me a break, Jack, I'm a fully consenting adult—"
"He's an attending—"
"He's not my attending, though! He has no authority over me!"
Jack sighed heavily, "He holds a lot of sway in the hospital. It wouldn't look good for you if this got out."
You laughed incredulously, "Wow. I didn't take you for a slut shaming misogynist."
He made a noise of protestation, "That is not what I meant."
"Oh, okay," You shook your head, "Let me ask you a question then: If Dennis Whitaker slept with the Chief of OBGYN, do you think he'd have to have this conversation or do you think people would just be high fiving him?"
He gave you a skeptical look, "I mean, I don't know in what universe that child with tuberculosis face scores Erin—"
"Jack!"
"Yeah, okay, okay. Point taken." He was still shaking his head, though, "I just—I mean, isn't he kinda… old for you? Why couldn't you just mess around with someone your own age?"
Your laugh rose several pitches, embarrassed to be having this conversation with your brother, "Fuck, I don't know. Why don't we call up my therapist? I'm sure she has many opinions on why I'm seeking out the affections of an older man starting with the fact that my biological father abandoned me and my adoptive one died when I was twenty."
Jack flinched at the mention of your father's death and you immediately regretted it, "Sorry, I… That was too far, I'm sorry."
He shrugged and shook his head, "He was your father too. You're allowed to be effected by it."
The both of you were silent for a few moments. Both you and Jack had been in therapy for many years. You, for most of your life dealing with your feelings about adoption and your biological parents. Jack, since he had returned from deployment down a limb. Again when your father died. Again when his wife died.
Despite it, you had never quite learned how to talk about difficult feelings together.
You clutched your hands together in your lap, bracing yourself before you spoke again, "I know… You feel like you have to protect me… Since he died, but I'm grown, Jack. I know what I'm doing."
Jack huffed a laugh through his nose and stood, "You don't get it. You don't know him. He's a fucking wreck. He's just gonna pull you down with him."
"I thought he was your friend?"
"He is! But right now he's not in any fuckin' position to take care of someone else."
"I'm not asking him to."
He shook his head, "He's just gonna break your heart," He grabbed his jacket from where he'd thrown it over the couch arm and began walking back to your door, "And since you're so grown, I won't be picking up the pieces this time."
When the door closed behind him, you pushed your face into your couch pillow and groaned.
***
It was bad enough now, being on shift with Robby. The whispers about how he had gotten punched, which you ignored. Most people thought he had just gotten too drunk and accidentally ambled into a bar fight. Perlah and Princess, though, had clocked the coldness between him and Jack during shift change.
Nobody had seemed to put it together that you were involved somehow, at least, not yet. But you figured if Perlah and Princess knew enough to sus out that Jack and Robby were fighting, it wasn't that much farther a leap to get to you.
So you tried to avoid the ER as much as possible. Until there was a car pile up on the highway just as the morning shift change was starting to take effect.
"Abbot, I need you downstairs helping them stabilize the patients and evaluating for surgery," Your attending said, "We'll get the ORs prepped in the meantime."
And so you found yourself back in the Pitt, back in trauma one, hands tangled with Jack's in a patient's chest cavity while Robby looked on, frustrated, "Who the fuck decided to do a fucking thoracotomy without consulting me first?"
"Who do you think?" Jack asked, neck tilting slightly as he looked up at you with disdain.
You clenched your jaw, "The patient was hemorrhaging and was about to arrest, he wouldn't have made it to the OR if I didn't open him up."
"You're an intern," Jack said, "You don't do this shit on your own without an attending present—"
"Well lucky for me, then, that you're here."
"You had already fucking cracked his chest before I got here—"
"Would the two of you shut the fuck up and update me on the status of the patient?" Robby snapped.
You sighed, "We stopped the bleeding for now, transfused him with five units of whole blood, he's stabilized enough to go up to surgery."
"Fantastic," He grumbled and started backing out of the room, "Call me if you need me."
Jack huffed and pulled his hands from the patient, "Unbelievable."
"You got something to say, Jack?"
"Not to you," He mumbled and quickly exited the room. He found Robby at Central talking to Dana, "What the fuck was that?" He said without preamble.
"What was what?" Robby said, sipping his coffee as he looked up at the board.
Jack scoffed, "You're not gonna put Abbot in her place for performing a thoracotomy without an attending present?"
Robby slowly slid his eyes from the board to Jack, then back up again, "You seemed to have it covered."
"So residents just need to fuck you to get you to go a bit soft, is that it?" Jack said roughly.
Robby's eyes snapped to Jack and then back around the hub to see if anyone else had heard. Dana was mercifully pretending to be busy with something else, but she had known what was going on between the three of you for weeks now.
"You know that's not true," Robby said firmly, "And she's not my resident."
Jack shook his head, "Fucking semantics. You know, I thought you were better than this Robby."
"Jack, I'm not— We're not sleeping together anymore, okay?" Robby said quietly, "We haven't talked since you—Since you found us. It's done."
Jack laughed, "You don't know my sister at all if you think it's done. She doesn't do casual. She thinks she's capable of it, she's not. So whatever you guys have going on means way more to her than whatever she told you. And she's not done, because I see the way she looks at you when she thinks no one's watching." He shook his head, "If you want it to be done, you're gonna have to break her heart. And then I'll have to break your legs."
Jack stormed off after that, finally packing his things and leaving the ER for the day. Robby was left feeling like shit and confused about what the fuck was going on between the two of you, which he thought was nothing.
"Abbot," He called out to you when he saw you passing not twenty minutes later, "Got a sec?"
You nodded and let him lead you into an empty on call room, "You should never have performed a thoracotomy without an attending present—" You already opened your mouth to argue and he raised a finger to quiet you, "—And you need to remember that you're in the emergency room as a consult. Okay? You don't do procedures without consulting an ER physician first. These are our patients. Not yours, not until they roll into the OR. Understood?"
Begrudgingly, you nodded, "Fine. Whatever. Sorry for saving your patient. Won't happen again."
You reached for the doorknob, but Robby pushed his palm flat against the door, preventing you from opening it, "Maybe Jack was right, maybe you have made me soft."
"What?"
"I am the Chief of Emergency Medicine," He said firmly, "And you are an intern. You don't speak to me like that."
You stared at him for a moment. His arm was raised over your head against the door, his eyes intently focused on your face, and suddenly you felt warm all over. Molten at just the way he was looking at you. Slowly, you dragged your eyes up his chest to his mouth, where they lingered.
"Or what?" You whispered finally.
His jaw clenched and you saw some sort of inner battle going on behind his eyes for a few moments before—
"Fuck it." His hands were on your face, tongue and teeth clashed as he hungrily kissed you, dragging you over to the bed. He was moving so fast, you felt dizzy at the sensations, his hands greedily grabbing at any skin he could, climbing up beneath your scrub top and ripping it up and over your head.
"Is this what you wanted?" He growled against your mouth, "This why you're being such a brat? You miss the way I touch you?"
His hand slipped past the waistband of your pants and without warning, he thrust a finger into you. You moaned into his mouth, kissed him harder, until he added a second finger and you could hardly breathe, your hips grinding against his hand for more, more, more.
But he pulled his hand out of you when he felt you get too close, "Want you to cum around my cock, want to feel how needy for me you are, hm? Can you do that?" He gripped your cheeks between his hand, forced you to look at him, "Can you be a good girl and follow directions?"
His tone was condescending and you felt the warmth build low in your stomach, felt yourself drip into your pants. You nodded, his hand still gripping your face, "That's my girl," He murmured and pressed a long kiss to your mouth before releasing you again, "Turn around for me."
You let him adjust your hips, push and pull you until you were in the perfect position, his cock lined up at your entrance. He slipped just the tip in, sighed when you moaned, and pulled out, "You have to be quiet, baby. Got it?"
You nodded eagerly, pulled a pillow to your face to stifle the sounds you were bound to make. You had never been able to be quiet. He pushed into you fully without further preamble and you moaned into the pillow.
His thrusts were slow and gentle at first, the burning low in your belly intensifying, muscles coiled tight as they readied for release. He started to speed up his movements, and you listened for his sighs, for his stifled moans. You liked to hear how good you made him feel and he was having a hard time being quiet right now.
Eventually, when he felt your walls beginning to pulse around him, he reached around your front, circled your clit expertly with a couple of fingers. It took seconds to push you over the edge and tears ran down your face as his cock continued to pump relentless strokes into you as you rode the high of your orgasm. And then he was cumming as well, pulling out to spill his load on your ass.
The two of you were silent as you cleaned up. You still didn't quite understand what he wanted from you, nor what you wanted from him. Just that not talking to him had been torturous after he had so effortlessly enmeshed himself in your life over the past few months. Just the few days you hadn't seen him, you hadn't been sleeping well. You thought he likely knew from the bruises under your eyes, but he hadn't said anything.
And then you were both back in the Pitt, gone your separate ways. You went back up to the surgery ward as if nothing had happened. Wondered if you had accidentally gotten yourself too deep into something you'd be unable to escape unscathed.
***
You were off work both today and tomorrow and so had decided to hit the bars with a couple of fellow residents. They had been begging you to come out with them for months, but you had fallen so deep into your non-relationship with Robby, you had refused many such invites in favor of sharing your bed with him.
He had taken to completely ignoring you since your last run in, especially around Jack. You tried to ignore the waves of pain that came with that, if only to not give Jack the satisfaction. You still remembered the way he had warned you that Robby would only break your heart and you had stupidly thought you hadn't given him enough of it to break.
But none of that mattered now. You were very drunk and looking for someone decidedly Not Robby to bring home. You were sitting at the bar top. Your friends said they were just gonna be a sec, they're running to the bathroom. A tall, handsome stranger asked if he can buy you a drink, and you smiled and nodded, welcomed the flirting. Tried desperately not to compare him to Robby.
And that was the last thing you remembered before you were waking up in the back of an Uber, your friends talking in panicky voices on either side of you.
"What'ssssss happeninnnn'?" You slurred, your tongue felt heavy.
"Don't you worry, girl." One of your friends squeezed your shoulder, "We're bringing you back to PTMC. You might need Narcan."
Narcan? Why the fuck would you need—?
"I can't believe it," Your other friend was going on, "We leave her alone for two seconds and bam! Roofied. Insane."
Oh. Well, that explained the time loss. They must've been worried whatever illegal rohypnol you'd been dosed with was laced with fentanyl. You had heard of such a case once or twice before, but it was rare. No real reason to lace a date rape drug with fentanyl, the people they were meant for weren't exactly repeat customers. But, better safe than sorry you supposed.
Jack was gonna lose his shit. And, oh, it was still early, wasn't it? Robby might still be passing off patients, making sure his staff went home for the day. Fuck. You weren't in the mood to see him like this.
"Stay here," Your friend said as the Uber pulled into the ambulance bay, "I'm gonna go grab a wheelchair."
Stay here, you thought as you stared at the car ceiling. As if you had a choice. Everything was spinning.
You heard Jack's voice first, it was him who pulled you from the car, placed you gently into the wheelchair. Then you heard Robby's voice, sounding agitated as he spoke with your friends. Something about why the fuck would they leave you alone like that and what kind of friends were they anyway.
Well, that was probably the last time you were going to be invited out you supposed.
"I don't think you need it," Jack's voice was soft in your ear, "But I'm gonna give you some Narcan just in case, alright?"
You tried to nod, but it just made you dizzy and you closed your eyes instead.
The next time you opened them you thought a decent amount of time must've passed. You felt a bit clearer, a little less fuzzy around the edges. There was an IV in your arm and you were on a gurney.
Robby was sitting by your bed, a tired look on his face as he looked over your chart.
"Robby?" Your voice came out rough and he looked up at you.
"Hey," He said gently, immediately putting your chart down. He took one of your hands in his own and smiled at you, "How're you feeling?"
You swallowed and it felt like cotton going down your throat, "Not so great." You managed, "Still pretty dizzy. Can I have some water?"
"Yeah, of course," He already had a water bottle on standby by your bed, held it to your lips while you took long, swallows.
"Thank you." You said when he took it away, "Did—Did I test positive for fentanyl?"
"No," Robby was playing mindlessly with your fingers, you found it quite soothing, "No, just rohypnol."
Finally, you realized what time it must be and frowned, "Shouldn't you be home by now?"
He shrugged and smiled, "Didn't wanna leave you."
Your face softened marginally and you felt tears burn at the backs of your eyes, "Robby, what are we doing?" You asked quietly.
He brought your hand to his mouth, pressed gentle kisses to your fingers, "I don't know. But I know I don't want it to end."
Jack was watching the two of you from across the way, hesitant to interrupt. He watched the way Robby absently played with your fingers. The way he smiled at you. The gentles kisses pressed to your hand. The way he had told off your friends earlier for leaving you alone, the same way Jack may have if Robby hadn't done it for him. And he was beginning to realize that maybe he had sold his friend short. Maybe Robby all this time had felt just as much for you as you had for him.
Finally, Jack cleared his throat to announce his presence and Robby immediately dropped your hand as if it had burned him.
"Welcome back, kid." He gave you a smirk, which you returned, "You were real out of it for a while there. You can talk again?"
You nodded, "Complete sentences and everything."
"Great. Well, since we didn't find any fentanyl in your system, you're free to go whenever you feel like it. Should feel 100% back to normal in about 24 hours, likely less." He turned his head to his friend, "Robby, a word?"
Robby stood and followed Jack out of earshot of you, "Look, I'm sorry about the hand holding, I—"
"What are your intentions with my sister?"
Robby's mouth hung open for moment, having been interrupted mid thought, "I—What do you mean?"
"Do you care about her?"
"Of course I care about her—"
"You're sitting at her bedside, you're holding her hand, you're looking at her like if anything happened to her you'd set this hospital on fire and then yourself."
Robby scoffed, "I think that's an exaggeration."
Jack gave him a lopsided grin, "Look, I know I've been… difficult. But it's only because I don't want to see her hurt. But I care about you too," Jack swallowed, "And if you care for her the same way she cares for you, if it's gonna make both of you happy, then…" He shook his head, "You have my blessing."
Robby stared at Jack blankly for a moment, "You're— You're serious?"
Jack nodded, "Yeah. But I meant what I said about breaking your legs if you break her heart, so. Just… Weigh your options carefully." Jack smirked and slapped Robby's shoulder affectionately. "Could you drive her home tonight? Make sure she gets back safe?"
A slow smile spread across Robby's face and then he pulled Jack in for a hug, "You got it, brother."
"What was that about?" You asked when Robby had come back to your side, looking giddy as he grinned from ear to ear.
Robby shook his head and picked up your hand again, pressing it to his mouth, "You ready to get out of here?"
You frowned, "With you? In front of Jack?"
He nodded, "Yeah. And I'd like to stay the night, if that's okay with you?"
You tilted your head to the side, "What did he say to you?"
Robby shrugged, "I'll tell you later. Just trust me?"
You frowned, but nodded, "Sure, okay."
And then Robby led you out of the emergency room, your hand in his. He didn't pay any attention to the stares or whispers and when he kissed you while you were still in the parking lot, you let him.
On the drive back to your apartment, you dug out your phone to text Jack: Thank you.
He hearted the message and just sent back: Whatever it looks like, let yourself be happy. It's what dad would've wanted.
You blinked away your tears and looked over at Robby while he drove, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. Yeah, you thought, I think I can do happy.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, dark!content, age gaps, Oral(F&M), unprotected sex, breeding, manhandling, each fic will have its own warning!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･author's note: welcome to my first kinktober!! This is… a lot! That’s why some of the fics will be short cause this is about SEX and nawsty stuff!!! Not plot so don’t expect much from me other than mindless porn lol. Enjoy<3
Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, lactation kink, unprotected sex, language
Description: Jack isn’t bashful in bed, but there is one thing that he won’t ask for. When the Reader has a clogged milk duct, he finally gets his chance to take what he wants.
Jack Abbot Masterlist
—
Jack Abbot never shied away from taking what he wanted, especially when it came to you. Every move, every word was calculated and intentional. Just like when he got you pregnant on purpose after mentally tracking your ovulation week and demanding that you didn’t take a Plan B after he came in you.
“Almost 50, love. I wanna see our kids grow up.” He had mumbled in your ear as he reeled from his orgasm high.
You were so giddy and even more turned on that you didn’t dare disobey the direct order from your soldier. And he got exactly what he wanted. A month and some at-home pregnancy tests later, you knew you were pregnant. You had Robby’s wife confirm with a transvaginal ultrasound, and she printed out the pictures of the tiny little bean for you to take home.
You brainstormed the cute ways to tell Jack, searching through Pinterest and TikTok that night when he was working. But when you came in to relieve the night shift and kiss him goodbye before he went home, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Robby had confirmed your suspicions when he pointed to the ceiling, not a single word uttered.
Jack was sitting on the railing of the roof, watching the sun climb over the buildings, instead of his usual lean with the rail against his back.
“That’s making me anxious.” You had called out to him to make your presence known.
Jack didn’t turn around to acknowledge you. Instead, he waited until you leaned forward on the safe side of the railing next to him. “I killed another vet tonight.” He mumbled.
You let out a heavy sigh, eyes focused on the sunrise. “Jack, you didn’t kill anyone. You just couldn’t save him.” You spoke the words that he had whispered in your ear many times after a rough shift.
“Same difference.” He replied, knuckles white as he grasped the railing.
You grabbed his large bicep, your hand not nearly big enough to wrap around it. “Will you please come to this side with me?” You begged in a calm whisper.
Jack closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath of morning air. “Why?” He asked, but he knew why. You wanted him safe, with a steel rail in between him and his death. Not balancing on it like a fucking amateur acrobat.
You reached into your back pocket, grasping the folded papers there. “I have a surprise for you.” Your voice lilted as a smile grew on your face.
Jack huffed and finally met your gaze. “Do I look like I’m 6 years old to you?” He deadpanned.
You giggled and waved the folded papers in front of him. “No, you look 50.” You replied and let the papers unfold, revealing the chain of ultrasound pictures. “Which is why I think you’ll like these.”
Jack’s eyes blew wide, the sunrise reflecting every single color off his irises. He faltered a bit on the rail as he quickly climbed down, probably the closest he’s ever come to falling off the building. You grasped his tight fitting black undershirt in your fists to balance him as he landed on his feet to the safe side of the railing.
“Is that ours?” He asked, almost afraid to hear the answer in case it was “no.”
But you passed the sonogram pictures to his thick hands, letting his fingers trace over the tiny bean that was your baby.
“That’s an Abbot.” You confirmed, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing your head against his broad chest.
Throughout the pregnancy, Jack served you in every way imaginable. He cooked every meal, tended to every chore, anticipated your needs before you could even place them. In his eyes, as your body began to change, he swore you turned more into a goddess by the day. And he especially couldn’t stop looking at your breasts. The way they swelled and hung heavy on your chest was enough to make his mouth water. But, for the first time, he couldn’t bring himself to take what he wanted.
You returned from a long day shift, only your second one back from maternity leave, with aching joints and dark circles under your eyes. Jack was holding Daniel in his arms as he watched a replay of the Steelers game on the couch. The sight was a relief after a day of blood and chaos, and you silently snuggled against Jack.
“How are my boys?” You whispered, against his chest, letting a finger trace against Daniel’s cheek.
Jack pressed a firm kiss to your hair, inhaling your scent of vanilla and antiseptic, as he pulled you impossibly close. “We’re good. Just missed him. I think he was trying to stay awake for you.” He replied.
Your baby rested peacefully on his father’s chest, so tiny in comparison. Your heart swelled as you noticed his little fists holding onto the fabric of his old army shirt.
“I can’t believe you were a redhead.” You mumbled, tracing Daniel’s orange wisps on his head.
Jack chuckled, and the rumble of his chest caused your baby to stir, but not enough to wake. “He’s gonna drive anesthesia crazy.” He noted. “Redheads need more anesthetic.”
You giggled and nudged his prosthesis with your foot. He wore it around the house more often now instead of his crutches. He wanted to be able to carry his son wherever he went. “Is that what happened to you?” You asked.
He nodded with a dry laugh. “Oh yeah. I remember half of my amputation.” He confessed.
You grimaced at the thought, but then a jolt of pain shot through your chest. You shuddered and let out an uncomfortable breath.
Jack raised an eyebrow, thinking you were distressed about his story. “I couldn’t feel anything.” He clarified.
You shook your head and sat up. “No, it’s not that.” You said, clutching your breasts. “I think I have a clogged milk duct.” You hissed through another stab of pain.
He sat up straight with you, shifting Daniel in his arms. “Need me to look?” He asked.
Most of the time, you would have waved him off. You were a capable doctor and had read up on every single complication of motherhood during your pregnancy. But you weren’t sure how to fix this one. “Yeah.” You admitted.
Jack nodded and stood carefully. “Let me put him down real quick.” He said before disappearing to the nursery.
While he was gone, you shucked off your scrub top, but your breasts were still bound by your maternity bra. Your hand massaged at your chest, trying to relieve the pressure on your right breast where the suspected block was.
When Jack reentered the room, the sight of you was enough to make him freeze. Your palms kneading against your chest, moans crawling from your throat and leaving your pretty lips. He felt himself harden as he sat next to you on the couch again.
“Let me see.” He whispered because if he had spoken any louder, his voice would have cracked in desperation.
Jack trailed one hand behind your back and found the clasp of your bra, expertly releasing the hooks. A small bit of tension in your chest relieved when the bra fell from your shoulders, and you let out a shaky breath. Your breasts hung from your chest, overexpanded from milk buildup. Your nipples hardened as the cold air of the living room hit your skin.
Jack swallowed thickly as he tried to resist the urge to tackle you down and start sucking like an animal. He scooted closer on the couch, so he could examine you.
“Which one hurts?” He asked, amber eyes flicking between your breasts.
Your hand clutched your right one. “This one.” You answered.
Jack’s calloused but experienced fingers traced over your skin, searching for a hardened area. Your skin crawled with pleasure at his ministrations, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he pressed against the spot where you’d felt pain earlier.
“Right here?” He asked.
You tried to twitch away from his grasp, but his hand held your breast securely. “Yeah.” You grunted.
Jack nodded and reached his free hand to your left breast, giving it the same examination. The way his eyes scanned your chest was so clinical and practiced. Like you weren’t his wife anymore but his patient. It was really, really attractive.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” He asked as his thick hands skimmed across every inch of your breasts.
You felt an uncomfortable rush of hormones in your rib cage as his hands continued to stimulate you. “Jack, you’re gonna have to fix it.” You groaned as your head dropped back.
His eyes finally looked up for the first time since your bra was discarded. “Fix it?” He questioned, but God, he knew what you meant.
The let-down reflex was nearing, and you couldn’t bear the discomfort in your right breast. You pushed him back against the upright couch cushions and straddled his hips. Your breasts hung above his face, and suddenly, he was as bashful as a teenage boy.
“Please, Jack.” You pleaded, massaging your right breast as the pins and needles sensation grew stronger.
Jack stared at you like a deer in headlights. The one thing he had been too shy to ask for because, well, it wasn’t supposed to be for him. It was supposed to be for your son. But here you were, straddling him, begging him to take what shouldn’t be his.
Before he could make a sound, you snatched the back of his head, fingers anchoring in his chrome curls, and shoved his face against your breast. His mouth latched onto your nipple like it was a primal instinct. His tongue suctioned underneath and began to suckle. His hands dug into your hips when his unconsciously bucked up against them.
The sounds that left your lips were vulgar, the sensation of pain and discomfort fighting against the pleasure of his lips around your nipple and his cock teasing your pussy through layers of his jeans and your scrub pants.
You shuddered as the let-down reflex initiated, and the first drops of milk dripped onto Jack’s tongue. He growled at the taste of the forbidden fruit, spurring him to suck harder. He used his free hand to clamp your other nipple in between his knuckles, tugging to release the milk on that side. The pain in your right breast slowly began to dissolve, and you yelped when a long drag from Jack’s mouth cleared the blockage.
Reluctantly, Jack released your nipple only to present the smallest clot on his tongue, his mouth starting to curl into a prideful smile. You let out a sigh of relief as Jack spit the clot out into a burping cloth from the side table, and he began to shift like he was going to get up.
You ground down against his hips hard in retaliation, drawing a startled groan from him. “You’re not gonna finish what you started?” You questioned.
Jack watched you with predatory eyes, and his hands squeezed your thighs. “Need me to fuck you?” He asked condescendingly.
You smirked and grabbed his face in your hands, puffing your chest out so that your breasts were showcased in front of his eyes. “Need you to milk me.” You corrected.
He wanted to play it cool. He really did. But his trembling hands gave him away as they moved to massage your breasts, letting the warm droplets race down his forearms as they fell. “You’re sure?” He asked, nearly choking on his watering mouth.
You squeezed your breasts on top of his hands, more droplets pearling at your nipples. “Daddy’s turn, yeah?” You teased, pulling off his worn out army shirt to reveal the corded muscles of his upper body.
His cock twitched at your words, and without another word, he dove into your chest, teeth snatching at your nipple again until he was latched. The short and fast suckles began to fade into deeper, longer sucks as your milk fully released to a constant stream.
He tweaked at your other nipple with his fingertips, pulling in a consistent pattern to release the milk from that breast. The pressure behind the stream caused it to spray onto his chest, decorating it along with his freckles.
You moaned in ecstasy as the oxytocin rush seeped across your body, and you began to unbutton his jeans. You managed to free yourself from your scrub bottoms and underwear without breaking Jack’s connection on your chest. You let your slick pussy slide against his abdomen for a few moments, combining your wetness with the rivers of milk that streamed from his chest.
“That wet for Daddy, huh?” He breathed in between swallows.
A desperate sound of confirmation left you as he twisted your nipple inside his hungry mouth. Your fingers quickly pulled his aching cock from his boxer briefs, sliding his jeans down enough to give you everything you wanted.
You sank down on his never ending length, the stretch still as paralyzing as the first time he fucked you. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock inside you. He groaned against your breast, teeth digging into your nipple as he felt the warmth of your pussy around him. You let out a scream at the sharp sensation, but he slapped his hand over your mouth.
“Don’t wake him.” He growled against your breast. “Daddy’s turn.”
Your cheeks flushed at his dominance, and you nodded against his large hand. That hand slowly trailed to your neck and squeezed against your pulse point. His hips began to roll as he continued to drink from your fountain. Milk dribbled down the edges of his lips when he came up reluctantly to breathe.
“You taste like a goddamn sin.” He mumbled, looking up to you with those bourbon eyes.
Your cheeks flushed at his words, and your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as you continued to bounce on his lap. At some point, he moved his focus to your other breast, draining its reserves.
“Jack, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…” You panted in between his thrusts and suckling.
He just doubled down on his worship to your body, bucking his hips impossibly deeper into you and swallowing harder around your nipple. The spring that had been coiling tighter and tighter in your belly finally snapped, sending your white hot orgasm across your body. You went limp in his arms as he fucked you like a ragdoll, chasing his own release.
It wasn’t long until you felt his hips stutter, his characteristic finish before he released inside you, ropes of hot cum painting your walls. Even as he breathed sharply through his nose and moaned through his orgasm, his lips remained faithfully latched to your nipple. His sucks had slowed as he drunkenly swallowed around your breast.
The stimulation made you shiver, and you ran a hand through his dampened curls. “Had enough?” You questioned, secretly hoping he would say no.
Jack chuckled and released your nipple, leaning his head back against the coach. His lips were beautifully swollen, eyes dazed like he was inebriated. His chest heaved as his breathing stabilized, pools of cream in the crevices of the muscles and veins of his chest.
“I wanna overdose on this.” He mumbled contently. “Giving me a goddamn sugar rush.”
—
A/N: Yeah I’m gonna need to go to church after writing this one. Also this was my first Jack Abbot smut fic 💕
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