sugar daddy!jack likes taking care of his things. including you.
sugar daddy!jack as a boyfriend // not beta read
sugar daddy!jack who doesn’t buy you flashy shit just to show off. He pays your bills, fixes the problem before you ask twice, and pretends he isn’t pleased when you kiss him for it.
sugar daddy!jack who's stern about you taking care of yourself—eating real food, sleeping enough, not running yourself into the ground—like he has any room to talk.
sugar daddy!jack who likes you bratty until you push too far, then suddenly that dry little smile disappears and his voice drops.
sugar daddy!jack who says, “don’t call me that,” every time you tease him, even though you can feel exactly what it does to him.
sugar daddy!jack who drops you off at a spa day with a black card and a text: "don't come back until you've spent at least a grand. and send me a picture of whatever you decide to wear under that robe."
sugar daddy!jack who buys you a new car after yours dies, keys on the kitchen counter with a note that says "don't argue. you're safer in this. come find me and thank me properly." and when you do, he has you on your knees before you can finish the sentence.
sugar daddy!jack who takes you to a black-tie hospital gala with his hand firm on your lower back, watching every other man's eyes trail down your dress, then leans in and mutters "they can look all they want. you're the most expensive thing in this room and you're mine." and later fucks you in the coat check to prove it.
sugar daddy!jack who leaves cash in your purse "for emergencies" every single week, even though you've never had an emergency, and when you try to give it back he pins you against the wall and growls "that's my job. let me take care of you." and then he does, for hours.
sugar daddy!jack who books a penthouse suite for the weekend just so he can fuck you on every surface—the balcony railing, the marble floor, the window overlooking the city—and leaves a stack of hundreds on the nightstand for "shopping tomorrow" because he wants to see you in something new.
sugar daddy!jack who buys you lingerie in your exact size, packages arriving with no name, just his handwriting on the note: "wear this. send proof. then come over and let me take it off." and when you do, he groans low in his throat and says "fuck, knew it would look perfect on you."
sugar daddy!jack who pays your rent directly into your account every month without discussing it, and when you try to protest he just says "you think i want you stressing about bills when you could be stressing about me?" and then demonstrates exactly what he means.
sugar daddy!jack who takes you to a jewelry store and tells you to pick anything—anything—and when you hesitate he picks a diamond choker himself, clasps it around your throat right there, and whispers "now everybody knows you're claimed." and then fucks you in the changing room because he can't wait.
sugar daddy!jack who buys you a top-of-the-line vibrator because he likes watching you use it, but also because he's possessive about your pleasure—"i want you thinking about me when you come, not some plastic. and i want to be there to watch."
sugar daddy!jack who covers your medical bills when you get sick without insurance, and when you cry from the overwhelm he holds you tight and mutters "i got you, kid. always." and then makes you soup and fucks you slow that night, like he's proving he won't let go.
sugar daddy!jack who pays for you to go on a girls' trip to somewhere warm, but only after making you promise to send him pictures of every outfit—and then he calls you each night with filthy instructions for later, making you sneak away to the bathroom to follow them.
sugar daddy!jack who buys you a new laptop for your grad program, sets it up with all the software you need, and then sits you down to study while he fucks you from behind, whispering "concentrate, baby—i want you to succeed so you can be the one taking care of me when i'm too old to move."
sugar daddy!jack who takes you shopping and tells you to get whatever you want, then watches you try things on from the armchair, one hand in his pocket adjusting himself, and when you come out in something particularly revealing he just says "get it. and wear it to dinner tonight. no panties."
sugar daddy!jack who pays for your hair appointments, your nails, your skincare—all of it—because he likes the way you look when you walk out of the salon glowing, and because he knows you'll come home and let him ruin all that polished perfection.
sugar daddy!jack who opens a joint bank account without asking and deposits enough to cover a year of your life, then texts you the login info with a single message: "you're mine. let me prove it." and when you show up at his door ready to argue, he just pulls you inside and shows you another way to say thank you.
sugar daddy!jack who keeps saying he’s too old to be this wrapped around someone’s finger, then proves himself wrong every time he spoils you rotten and looks at you like you’re the only thing he’s never regretted wanting.