taking screenshots while on ft with sugar daddy!jack abbot to show ur friends who ur yachting for. telling him, oh my friend asked for your number, she said she’d be a sugar baby for you too! while giggling, curled up in his crisp white sheets, right at his side despite him having a california king. he just roll his eyes—his smirk doesn’t go unnoticed though—while his glasses sit on the tip of his nose, playing solitaire on his phone. “give her robby’s number, i’m closed off,” he mutters, taking just a second away from his game to reach over and smack your ass, making you squeal on purpose. “got my hands full already, don’t want anyone else, baby”
he eats a peach and everyone watches // jack abbot
in which everyone watches the way jack eats a peach over the sink in the breakroom. totally normal btw.
(a/n: lmao sorry i just daydreamed this and couldn't help myself)
You almost didn't clock the crowd by the break room door. You were fifteen minutes early for your shift, coffee in hand and brain still half asleep.
But then you noticed it. A cluster of nurses and residents, shoulder to shoulder, jammed into the break room doorway like it was opening night for a movie premiere. Princess was up front. Someone else had a hand clapped over their mouth. Nobody was talking.
Nobody was breathing, possibly.
You slowed down. "What's going on?"
Nobody even looked at you. Whatever was happening in that break room had apparently short circuited everyone's brain functions.
You nudged your way in between two residents, peering over a shoulder to see what fresh hospital hell had captured the entire day shift's attention.
And it was just Jack.
Eating a peach over the sink.
Except. Okay, no, it was not just that. Because Abbot was eating this peach like it owed him money. Like it was the last peach on planet Earth and he'd been lost in a desert for forty days to find it. He had one boot braced against the cabinet, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, and he was devouring it.
Slurping, biting deep enough that juice ran down his chin, down his wrist, dripped in fat little splashes into the steel sink below. He tipped his head back to chase a rivulet with his tongue before it could escape down his forearm.
Beside you, Princess had one hand clutched so tightly around her necklace you were convinced she was going to snap the chain. "Oh." she whispered, eyes wide saucers. "fuck."
You snorted. A grown man eating a peach and the entire break room had turned into a reverent congregation? Come on. You'd seen this man debride a wound without blinking. This was what broke everyone?
You opened your mouth to say something appropriately sarcastic about it.
And then Abbot took the last bite.
He worked it slow, methodical, down to nothing but the pit, juice glistening on his knuckles, on his jaw, catching the light. He tossed the pit into the trash with an easy flick.
Didn't even look, didn't even need to look, it just went in and then, like the final cruelty in a very long day, he lifted his hand and sucked the juice clean off his own fingers, one by one, unbothered and unaware of the fact that he had an audience.
The sarcastic comment died in your throat. You felt heat crawl up your neck and settle high in your cheeks, and you had approximately zero explanation for it.
That seemed to be everyone's cue. The crowd dissolved like they'd all simultaneously remembered they had jobs. Princess peeling off toward the nurses' station still fanning herself with a chart, the residents scattering back into the hallway, muttering things to each other you were positive you did not want to know.
You, for reasons you would later refuse to examine, did not move.
Abbot turned around, wiping his hand on a paper towel, and clocked you standing there alone in the doorway like an idiot.
He smiled. "The peach truck came by the hospital today. They're so good."
You nodded and that was it. That was your entire contribution to the conversation. A nod. Because what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?
Yes, I saw, the entire staff saw, several people may need to be debriefed by Psych?
He gave you a small nod back, apparently satisfied with your input, and walked past you out into the hall, smelling faintly of peach and coffee and completely oblivious to the fact that he had just ruined your entire morning.
You stood there. Gulping like a cartoon character. Your face was going hot and you were sure it was visible from space.
"Hey! You!"
Trinity's voice cut through the fog, sharp from the nurses' station. "Wipe your drool and clock in. I need your help with a patient!"
That got you moving. Fast. You speed walked toward the station praying that nobody would ask you why you looked like you'd just run a marathon.
You had a shift to get through and you were not going to think about Jack Abbot and that peach ever again.
Just Jack Abbot happily following his wife reader around the mall for her shopping trips. He’s not waiting out at the food court with the other wives’ husbands. He’s carrying his wife’s bags and fussing when she tries to use her own debit card and not his.
She didn’t even have to bribe him with promises to buy lingerie. He’s delighted to spend time with her doing something she’s enjoying.
She sees something she likes before spotting the price tag and promptly putting it back on the rack…Jack is picking it back up and taking it to the register ignoring her protests of “Jack it’s 74 dollars. That is way too expensive for one dress.”
He’s just reaching for his wallet and insisting “but you liked it.”
He is confused by his army and swat buddies complaining about their wives shopping habits…what do they mean they don’t find it satisfying to know their wives are buying things they love and wanting to look nice for them???!! What do they mean they don’t like watching their wives try on sundresses and shoes???
Jack Abbot is a wife guy and he enjoys having a wife who can buy pretty dresses and cute things.
Jack Abbot who never lets you pay. And it wasn't like you needed the help but by god did he refuse to let you fork out for anything.
Your newest shoes? He had sent his card details to the luxury shop.
You were hungry but too tired to cook? His card was on file in your Uber eats app.
You wanted coffee? He had opened a tab under his name at your favorite coffee shop, even paid for delivery on days when he knew you'd need extra caffeine.
You were still renting an apartment? He had changed the automatic withdrawal info so that it linked directly to his own bank account.
Once, you tried to go halfsies on a dinner date and Jack almost cried thinking you wanted to break up. That was the last time you ever tried paying when Jack was close by.
Pre med Rabbot arguing about something in their dorm. Jack takes a playful, but irritated swipe at Robby and they end up wrestling.
Robby puts up a good fight, but Jack did a ton of sports in high school and still keeps up with regular workouts, so it’s not long before Jack has Robby pinned on his stomach under him.
And… well… all that rolling around… getting his blood pumping…
He’s hard. Jack’s hard, and his dick is pressed right between Robby’s ass cheeks. When he realizes, he freezes. His brain finally catches up with reality, but before he can apologize and move away, Robby rolls his hips backwards.
A low moan rumbles through Jack. Cautiously, he pushes forward. It feels so good. The scrape of his boxers and Robby’s pajama pants provides a soft friction, but the materials are thin enough that he can still feel the heat of Robby through their clothes.
Robby pushes back again; Jack pushes forward.
This slow back and forth goes on for a few minutes before Jack snaps. He places a firm hand on the floor next to Robby’s head, and the other tight on his hip, keeping Robby’s hips tilted up just right for Jack to hump against like a wild animal.
Robby lies there and takes it. Biting his lip to muffle his needy whines and looking back at Jack with glazed-over eyes and beautiful pink cheeks smashed into the floor.
It doesn’t take long for Jack to cum, leaving what should be a humiliatingly large stain in his underwear, but he doesn’t care. He leans back on his knees, trying to catch his breath and bring his consciousness back inside his body.
In that time, Robby rolls over onto his back, exposing the large tent that’s formed in his pants. He moves to wiggle out from under Jack, presumably to take care of his own obvious problem, but Jack pins him down again with a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Robby looks up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. Jack’s own trace the desperate bob of Robby’s Adam’s Apple before darting back down to his covered hard-on.
Jack places a flat palm on Robby’s clothed dick. A small, pitiful sound breaks through Robby.
“Do it,” Jack demands.
Robby’s breath stutters, a little confused, but he catches on quickly. He plants his feet for leverage and bucks his hips, rubbing his hard dick against Jack’s unmoving, flat hand.
With each thrust, Robby loses more and more of his composure. Soon his face blooms into a radiant red, and the hold on his lip slips, releasing wanton moans into the air.
Jack is too recently spent to go again, but that doesn’t stop his dick from twitching in interest.
Robby orgasms so prettily. His moans echo through the room, and his blush has descended past the collar of his shirt. Jack resists the temptation to lift the hem and check how far down it goes.
“We good?” Jack asks. His palm is still hot from all Robby’s rubbing.
“Yeah.” Robby swallows. “We’re good.”
After that, they enter a silent agreement to get each other off. It starts slow, with little brushes here and there that turn into more humping and the occasional hand.
But they also have unspoken rules. No purposeful skin-to-skin, no getting naked, and no kissing.
They get close sometimes. Fingers brushing under lifted shift hems and heavy panting into each other’s mouths, but they never cross the line.
That is, until Jack gets home from class, pent up beyond belief.
It’s been a long week, and all Jack could think about during that dull-ass lecture was Robby’s pretty blissed-out face. And then when he walks into their dorm, there he is in nothing but his underwear, waiting for his leftovers to finish in the microwave.
Jack snaps. Before he can think, he’s shoving his jeans down to his knees, and Robby is bent over the counter, letting himself be humped in the middle of their kitchen with Jack’s hands enveloping his thin waist. Jack figures it’s not really breaking the rules, more bending, since he wouldn’t be touching Robby’s bare torso if he was properly dressed.
“I didn’t know you wore panties,” Jack huffs.
“I— I don’t.” Robby's arguing is undercut by his soft whimpers and the fact that Jack can see the tiny briefs cupping his ass. His cheeks bounce under the material with each of Jack’s thrusts.
Jack’s grip on Robby’s waist tightens, and is pace increases. It’s not long before a familiar wet puddle forms in his boxers.
The microwave is beeping somewhere far away, but Jack doesn’t give a shit. He’s too focused on placing Robby against the fridge. Jack cups his hands under Robby’s thighs and helps him grind against his stomach.
The briefs give Jack a nice outline of Robby’s dick. It’s nothing special. Jack could probably cover the whole thing with one fist; he imagines it leaving a trail over Robby’s thin stomach while Jack fucks him until he cries.
Robby’s little whines turn to moans, and for the first time, Jack is able to see that pretty pink blush crawl all the way down to his nipples. Fuck. Jack’s mouth waters; he wants to bite them so bad, but he can’t. That would definitely be against the rules.
Although… the way Robby is looking at him is already pushing it. Jack knows Robby wants to kiss him. If he did, Jack would shove his tongue so far down his throat that he’d be able to feel all of Robby’s pretty noises. But he doesn’t, and Jack isn’t about to be the one to knock down that barrier.
Robby cums in his little panties with his head tilted back, and goddamn it takes every bit of strength in Jack not to latch onto his neck.
Delicately, he places Robby’s shaking feet back on the ground.
“Thanks,” Jack says.
It takes Robby a moment to comprehend what Jack said. “Oh, yeah,” he says eventually. “Thank you too…”
Robby looks so dizzy. Jack wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him until his balance returns; he wants to bury them both beneath a blanket and pretend nothing else exists.
He pats Robby’s shoulder; good game, and walks away.
It was easy for people to underestimate Dennis when he was standing next to Jack.
“Lean and mean” is how his daddy would have described him; watchful eyes and limbs corded with muscle that rippled whenever he moved, Ex-Military, chief to the night shift and not one to mince his words to be easier to swallow.
Compared to Dennis’s thinner frame, wide watery eyes and peace keeper demeanor, it was easy for people to forget that he was tough as nails when it came down to it.
Jack liked being big enough to protect people- I mean, hell, that was the whole point wasn’t it? The army, keeping up his physic, the yoga, all of it. He liked being that thick, sturdy shield to keep his people safe.
He knew Dennis was strong- he’s seen the yard work that kid did at his place, the kid didn’t shy away from hard work- but it’s different than seeing it properly in action.
It started with a glass breaking.
A normal noise at the club they were at, but it still had Jack scanning the room from their table in the corner. Dennis had just gotten up to get them more drinks. Jack’s eyes snagged on a man- bulky, tall, agitated- looming over a couple of women who were yelling and pointing at him. Their words were lost under the music and babble of the crowd, but what was easy to understand was the slap that cracked across the closer woman’s cheek.
Jack was already up, trying to push his way through the crowd until he caught a familiar blond, curly head beelining towards him. Jack’s body ran cold as he watched the man turn around and yell something to Dennis.
Jack’s heart pounded as he lost sight of the two; the crowd was beginning to press in around the spectacle- damn Dennis and his fuckin’ goody two-shoes mentality, couldn’t just flag security and notify them-
“Naw, you gonna cry? You was bull-wheelin’ all kinds of shit when it was just them girls but not someone your size, huh?”
Jack started in shock; Dennis was on the man’s back, arm bulging where it was wrapped around the man’s throat as he grinned savagely. His teeth and mouth were painted crimson from the blood pouring from his nose, his teeth flashing white with his grimace. Each time the man bucked to try and gain control of the situation Dennis’s body rolled with it like it was a horse.
“Alright, alright, let ‘im up!”
Jack blinked as security finally made their way over, mouth dry and a certain heaviness in the cradle of his hipbones he didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Fuck you man, you’re fucking crazy, those bitches-!“
“-you got slopped at a bar an’ lost your fuckin’ manners, that that’s what you get!” Dennis barked back, just as vicious, a pair of dogs sizing each other up. Jack finally snapped out of whatever kept his feet frozen to the floor, his hand coming up to grab Dennis by the nape and drag him back to their things.
“Easy tiger, Jesus Christ- never a dull moment with you, huh kid?” Jack grunted as Dennis stumbled in front of him, going from attack dog to sulky puppy being held by the scruff in an instance.
“He hit that lady! What was I ‘sposed to do?” Dennis whined. “Fuck, my nose hurts…"
“Lets pay our tab and let security handle it then, Den, come on.” Jack hoped he didn’t sound as distracted as he felt. God, now he knew what Dennis felt when he stared too long at his arms and gushed about his muscles. If he wasn’t trying to wrangle his boy he’d probably push Dennis up against a wall and kiss him so hard he got dizzy with it.
“-idn’t mean to fly off the handle, just- God, what is wrong with people?”
Without the noise from the bar Dennis’s voice cut through the night noise with crystal clarity that brought Jack physically back in the moment.
“Get in the truck, Den.” The slump of Dennis’s shoulders didn’t do much to hide the guilt pouring off him. It was only when they two of them buckled in and Jack started the drive home that he felt like he could finally unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.
“We’re gonna go home and get that nose cleaned up.”
“And then…?” Dennis asked, bracing for the punishment. Jack let out a huff of laughter.
“And then you’re riding me until I pass out, kid, that was the hottest thing I’ve seen you do.”
.
