Dr Jack Abbot- NSFW Alphabet
This piece is definitely inspired by my new piece about Dr Jack Abbot x shy!resident OC/ reader. I have serious brain rot from this man!!!
Warnings-NSFW (only interact if 18+- or you will be blocked)
Gentle but firm. Jack’s a grown man who knows that sex is vulnerability, especially with someone inexperienced. He always holds her after, often massaging her thighs or tracing her back. If she’s overwhelmed, he’ll help her breathe through it.
“You still with me, baby? Breathe. I got you.”
Soft showers. Warm compresses. Water with ice. Kisses to the forehead. Holding her hand while she trembles post-orgasm. The whole package.
He has a thing for her thighs. Whether she’s sitting in his lap, straddling him, or just lying beside him—he lives for the way she squirms when his fingers trail there. He also has a near-worshipful obsession with her mouth: what it says, what it does, how she kisses when she lets go.
On himself? His back. He likes the pain of her scratching when he’s deep—something raw and feral about it.
Messy. Deep. Intentional. Jack’s a little territorial without being possessive. He likes cumming in her—seeing it drip out of her, watching her reaction to it.
“Look at that. You took it all. Such a good girl for me.”
When she gets curious about giving head, he’ll warn her first—but if she insists, he’ll grip her hair and whisper filth while she gags on him.
This man is filthy. Raspy, slow voice in your ear filthy. He paces it though—sometimes soft praise, other times utter depravity:
• “That’s it. Let me hear those pretty sounds.”
• “No one’s ever touched you like this, have they? You were just waiting for me.”
• “You’ll come when I tell you to. Not a second before.”
• “Mmm… look how wet you are. Bet you didn’t know your body could want like this.”
Plenty. And it shows. But he’s never smug. His past is heavy—he hasn’t really let go in a long time. With her, it’s a slow unlearning. But he knows exactly what to do to get her legs shaking, her body begging.
She’s his fresh start, and he treats her with both reverence and ruin.
• Missionary, but with her legs over his shoulders. Deep, eye contact, intense.
• From behind on his lap. Her back to his chest, one hand on her throat, the other teasing her clit.
• Eating her out with her thighs over his shoulders. His favorite fucking meal.
He likes control, but once she gets bold and rides him—he becomes unhinged.
Rarely, but when it happens, it melts her. Like when she’s trying to be sexy but trips on her own pants, or gets flustered. He chuckles, helps her up, kisses her knuckles and murmurs, “You kill me, kid.”
Then ruins her 30 seconds later.
Salt-and-pepper down there. Trimmed. Neat. Masculine.
He thinks her hair (downstairs or otherwise) is perfect as it is—won’t let her apologize for anything. If she ever wants to do something fancy (like shaving completely), he’ll still kiss every inch. But he’ll always mutter, “Didn’t need to change a thing.”
High. He holds eye contact. Kisses her deeply mid-thrust. Cradles her face when she’s close. Calls her “sweetheart” and “baby” and “love” when he’s buried inside her.
Even when it’s rough, it’s connected. They’re always feeling something.
Used to be a regular thing—late nights, grief, stress. Now? Only when she’s not around. Or when he’s thinking about the way she said his name last night.
Sometimes he’ll let her watch. Slowly. Eyes on her. Hand slick. “This is what you do to me. Come here and taste it.”
• Praise & control: Loves telling her she’s good for him, that she belongs to him.
• Overstimulation: He lives to push her past what she thought she could take.
• Breath play: His hand on her throat, light pressure, always in control.
• Degradation—but soft. Stuff like, “You’re such a needy little thing, huh? Bet you like being ruined by someone older.”
He also adores tying her wrists with his tie.
Mostly his bedroom. But: Against the counter in the clinic when no one’s around. Backseat of his car after a rough shift. Her place on her tiny couch—legs hanging off the edge
If she asks to try somewhere new? He’s game.
The way she says his name. The way she clings to him during kisses. The innocence paired with the want.
He gets hard at the sound of her voice sometimes—especially when she doesn’t realize how she sounds.
Won’t degrade her to the point of humiliation. Won’t play dumb jealousy games. Won’t ever hurt her without her consent—and never emotionally. Never uses sex to manipulate or punish. That’s a hard line for him.
He’s a devotee. Jack will go down on her for hours.
Sloppy. Tongue-flicking. Moaning into her pussy. Watching her unravel. He’ll whisper against her, “Come on, give it to me, sweetheart. Let me taste all of it.”
When she finally sucks him off, clumsily at first? He loses it. Guides her, praises her, damn near explodes.
Controlled and deep. Jack fucks like he’s trying to ruin her for everyone else. But when she begs? He can go fast, rough, and leave her breathless.
Yes. Especially when she’s being a brat, teasing him in public. Up against a wall, hand over her mouth, fast and filthy. But he always finishes the job properly later. In bed. Slowly.
Will take calculated risks. Clinic hallway after hours. Closed office. His car. The idea of her almost getting caught makes her wetter—he loves discovering that about her.
He’s older, but controlled. One orgasm isn’t enough for him—he wants to wring every one out of her.
Can go multiple rounds if she teases him enough. Always takes care of her first.
He introduces a vibrator. At first she’s shy—but curious. He uses it on her while whispering filth in her ear.
Also loves blindfolds and silk ties. Keeps a small, locked drawer just for their fun.
So unfair. He’ll edge her for hours. Deny her until she’s sobbing, legs shaking.
Then he’ll say, “Think you’ve earned it now?”. And give it to her until she forgets her own name.
Jack is more verbal than loud. Groans. Deep moans. Filthy praise.
But when she really gets to him? He growls. Breathless and low. Her? He tries to make her scream. And succeeds.
One time, he let her tie him up. Just once. Just to give her control. She was nervous—but the way he gave in? It changed something. She’s never looked more powerful. And he’s never come harder.
5.5’inches, thick girth, pinkish head with two thick veins running up the shaft. He’s got a scar on his hipbone—shrapnel from some medical crisis years ago.
He lets her kiss it during slow nights, hand on the back of her head. Softest he’s ever been.
He wants all of her. Not just her body—but the shy glances, the sleepy smiles, the hunger behind her inexperience.
Jack’s addicted to the way she trusts him. And he worships it.
He doesn’t sleep easily. Trauma, memories.
But after sex with her? He’s out in minutes, one hand still on her waist, her head tucked into his chest.