Summary: A normal ER shift takes a highly unexpected turn when a patient’s homemade brownies hit a little too hard
A/N: Requests are welcome! This work is entirely mine and has been proofread with Grammarly.
Masterlist
The emergency department was in its usual chaotic rhythm by the time you clocked in. It was one of those days where you were constantly moving, in and out of patient rooms, checking vitals, administering medication, juggling a million other things at once. Voices overlapped from every direction. Someone was calling for labs, someone else was asking for meds, and a paramedic was giving a report too fast for anyone to fully catch.
That was the thing about this place: you didn't ease into a shift, you went in swinging. No warm-up, no pause. Just straight into it.
You’d barely set your bag down when you saw the nurse's light flash for assistance in room seven.
“I got room seven,” you called out, not really to anyone in particular, just enough for the rest of the staff to know it was covered.
You were already moving towards the hall when–
“Hey.”
You glanced over your shoulder, instinctively searching for the familiar voice. Jack was leaning back against the counter, tablet in hand, but he wasn’t really looking at it. His attention was on you, had been since you came through the staff doors. His gaze followed you easily, like it always did, picking you out of the chaos without trying.
It was second nature to him.
“Try not to get into too much trouble today, will you?” he called after you, as if he knew what kind of day you were already about to have.
You snorted, not even slowing as you kept walking. “No promises, babe.”
His mouth twitched in amusement as he watched you.
“That's what I was afraid of,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.
You shook your head, continuing onto room seven, but now with a small smile tugging at your lips. You could feel it, even without turning back– his eyes lingered on you, warm and affectionate.
Room seven was like a breath of fresh air when you entered.
A sweet, elderly woman sat on the edge of the bed, her hair neatly pinned back in a bun and a tan cardigan draped over her shoulders. She looked like the stereotypical grandmother who appeared on television. She smiled as you stepped in, her eyes twinking with a warmth that immediately put you at ease.
“Hello, Ma’am, I saw you needed some help?” you asked, moving closer.
“None of that,” she said with a playful shake of her head. “Please, call me Betty.”
“Betty,” you repeated with a smile. “Alright, Betty. How can I help you today?”
“Well,” she said, reaching for the call button at her bedside. “I hit this because I didn't know if you folks forgot about silly old me.” She laughed softly. “And I've been watching, you all seem so kind to one another.”
You chuckled. “It’s not that we forgot, Betty. It’s just …busy here.” You gestured vaguely at the chos outside of her room. “But I’ll check your vitals again. Your X-rays still haven't come back yet, so we’ll keep an eye on things until they do.”
Betty’s eyes lit up as she reached beside her bed and handed you a blue Tupperware container. “The last doctor forgot to take these,” she said gently. “But these are some homemade brownies I made for you all. You guys work so hard, and I wanted to do something as nice as a thank you.”
You hesitated for a second, torn between hospital policy and her genuine kindness. The container was full of slightly uneven but perfectly golden brownies, the cocoa aroma drifting up to your senses immediately.
“Betty… you didn't have to,” you thanked her, genuinely touched.
“Oh, I wanted to, dear,” she replied warmly, her smile sincere. “I just wanted to make your day a little easier.”
You nodded, carefully accepting the container. Rules be damned, you weren't going to upset this kind old lady.
For a moment, the chaos of the ED felt just a little lighter.
The break room was a rare moment of quiet amid the usual chaos of the ED. It wasn’t often that you were able to sit down and actually relax in here.
You placed Betty’s Tupperware on the counter for anyone who wanted a treat. You couldn’t resist eating one of the brownies; it was warm, sweet, and unexpectedly comforting, the kind of little indulgence that made the chaos of the shift feel just a bit easier.
You returned to your duties, leaving the rest of the brownies safely in the room for the rest of the staff. Completely ordinary, you told yourself. A little chocolate never hurt anyone.
The nurse’s station was buzzing as usual, phone ringing, monitors beeping, colleagues chatting, but you moved through it all with your usual efficiency… or at least you thought you were.
Jack, standing nearby, tilted his head slightly as he watched you file through charts. Something about the way you moved, the little smile tugging at your lips a little too often, made him pause. He was suspicious; you seemed just a little too cheerful for someone powering through a twelve-hour shift.
Dana wandered over, chewing her gum while balancing a stack of charts. She stopped mid-step, squinting at you. Did she just see you laugh at one of your own notes?
“Honey, are you alright?” she asked slowly.
You blinked at her, genuinely confused. “Huh? Oh, no.. I just saw something funny, that’s all.” You waved her concern and returned to sorting the notes, completely unaware of the faint wobble in your step.
Dana exchanged a glance with Jack, leaning in slightly. “Is she okay?” she murmured.
Jack shrugged, still unsure. “I think so. Just a little off. Probably lack of sleep.”
For a while, you continued through the shift, moving through the patients' charts and checking IVs as normal, though this time a little more giggly. You hummed under your breath as you worked, swaying when it involved leaving the desk.
Eventually, the first unmistakable wave hit. You found yourself leaning against a counter, laughing at nothing in particular, flicking pens and notes across the nurses' station without meaning to.
Dana’s narrowed, and this time she knew something was seriously wrong. “Okay..” she muttered, walking over and gently taking your arm. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where?” you asked brightly, giggling as you let her guide you down the hall, your fingers brushing along her arm without even realizing it. Each step felt floaty, just a little too easy, and you leaned into her touch more than necessary, smiling up at her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Sit down here,” Dana said, motioning to an empty patient room. “I just want to make sure you’re okay for a second.”
You plopped onto the edge of the bed, still giggling softly, reaching for Dana’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Dana… you’re so nice,” you murmured, leaning closer than usual. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Dana’s eyes widened, then flicked towards the hallway, a frown crossing her face. Something was definitely off. “I need to go get Jack, okay?” she muttered, letting go of your arm and stepping out quickly to call him.
You hummed contentedly, sinking into the edge of the bed, your finger brushing over the soft sheets. The fabric felt impossibly smooth, comforting in a way that made you sigh happily.
“Oh… Jack,” you murmured as soon as you saw him step into the room, your eyes lighting up. “These sheets… we need a pair for home. They’re… amazing.” You wiggled your fingers along the fabric, completely enraptured, your smile wide and dreamy.
Jack knelt beside you, raising an eyebrow but keeping his voice calm. “You want our bed to have hospital sheets?” He couldn't believe his ears.
You tilted your head, still running your hands over the soft fabric. “Not the hospital ones … these. Soft like clouds.”
Jack exchanged a glance with Dana, who had just stepped in behind him, her lips pressed together to hide a smirk. Both of them blinked, trying to make sense of the dreamy, almost floaty expression on your face.
“Baby, are you okay?” he asked cautiously. “You seem different.”
You leaned into him, pressing your cheek against his chest. “You’re so handsome,” you murmured. “I love you so much, even though you snore.”
Jack froze, exchanging a stunned glance with Dana. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is she high?”
Jack ran a hand through his hair, assessing the situation calmly. Why is she high? And how in the world on shift? “Okay… babe, when was the last time you ate today?
“…Breakfast?” you answered thoughtfully, tilting your head like it required serious consideration.
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Just breakfast?”
Your face brightened suddenly. “Oh! Wait… some patient! An old lady gave me brownies!”
Jack blinked. “Brownies?”
You nodded eagerly. “In the break room! Jack, you need to try them; they were so good.” You emphasize, trying to figure out why earlier you didn't bother to bring a brownie to Jack so he could try them.
Dana’s eyes flicked to Jack, her lips pressed together, and she whispered, “I’m already on it,” before stepping quickly to go and try to avoid another disaster.
Jack exhaled softly, a mix of relief and amusement washing over him. Now that he knows why you're like this. He let his hand drift to your shoulder as you nuzzled into him.
“How about we go home?” he murmured gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Before you get into any trouble.”
You giggled, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Yeah… home to our bed.”
Jack smiled, shaking his head. “Alright, let’s get out of here before you start causing a scene,” He carefully guided you off the bed. In any other instance, he would carry you in this state, but he knew it would draw more attention than needed.
You leaned fully into him, fingers tracing along his shoulders, humming softly. “Are you going to be in bed with me?
Jack nodded and ensured he wrapped his arm securely around your waist, steering you down the hall, subtly dodging busy staff and shielding you from anyone who might notice. You swayed slightly with each step, giggling at nothing and murmuring little compliments about him.
Just as you made it to the emergency exit, Robby appeared, arriving for his shift. You waved lazily, eyes sparkling. “Hey, handsome! You coming with us… or just want to watch?”
Jack shot him a pointed look while his ears turned red. “I’ll tell you later,” he muttered, tugging you gently forward. Robby stood there, clearly flustered and confused, while you giggled softly, leaning into Jack even more.
You pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. “I love you… so much…”
“I know, babe,” Jack murmured, smiling as he guided you toward the exit. “I love you too… however, no more brownies for you.”
He helped you settle into the passenger seat, gently buckling you in. You leaned your head against the window for a second, eyes half-lidded and dreamy, still holding his hand.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
“I know… so buy me new sheets,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lightly along his hand.
Jack pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Alright… home we go,” he said, starting the engine.
You sighed contentedly, your head resting against the seat, fingers still entwined with his. Slowly, your eyelids grew heavy, your body relaxing in the warmth of the car, and the lingering effects of the brownies lulled you toward sleep.
And just like that, you drifted into a peaceful sleep, warm and cared for, Jack quietly keeping watch as the car hummed toward home.
abbot is the type of freak to respond to a normal, cute, not suggestive selfie from robby or whitaker with a 10-minute long audio of him jacking off to it
Summary: A ruptured appendix lands you in the ER. Jack told you to call if things got worse. You did. Too bad the number was wrong....
Jack Abbot x Reader
AN:First post back while I’m getting back into the rhythm of writing and posting again, and obviously it had to be about my husband Jack :P Hope you enjoy!
You’re halfway through getting dressed when the first cramp hits.
It’s low and sharp, like someone twisting a fist just behind your hip bone, and you pause with one sock in your hand, breath catching for half a second.
“—you still there?” Jack’s voice crackles through your phone, dry and unimpressed even this early. “Or did you finally get abducted by aliens.”
You exhale through your nose. “Rude. I’d at least text you first.”
“You’d forget,” he says. “You forget to eat.”
“I do not forget to eat.”
“You forget to eat real food.”
You tug the sock on and straighten, bracing a hand against the dresser as another wave rolls through. Not unbearable. Just relentless.
“Everything okay?” he asks. The humor drops. He hears everything despite his old age much to your dismay.
“Yeah,” you say automatically, then sigh. “Just cramps. I think.”
There’s a pause. You can picture him already. Scrubs half-on, black coffee in hand, leaning against the counter like the weight of the world lives there too. That crease between his brows carving itself in.
“You’re not due,” he says.
You snort. “Jack, I have PCOS. I’m never due.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I didn’t say it was.” You grab your hoodie and pull it on, slower now. “It’s probably nothing. My body just likes to freestyle.”
“Your body doesn’t hate you,” he mutters. “It’s just bad at communicating.”
You huff. “Wow. Pot, meet kettle.”
That earns a quiet huff of a laugh on his end, barely making it past his throat. You count it as a win.
Another cramp hits, stronger this time, and you swear under your breath before you can stop yourself.
Jack catches it instantly. “Hey. Don’t do that thing where you minimize your pain”
“M’not minimizing,” you say, defensive but gentle. “I’m just… acknowledging. With curse words.”
“Okay,” he says, already switching gears. “Have you eaten.”
You groan. “Don’t start.”
“I’m starting,” he replies flatly. “You need food before you take anything. Even ibuprofen. Especially ibuprofen.”
“I was gonna grab something at work.”
“At the animal shelter,” he says, irritation sharp but protective. “Where you will absolutely forget because a sad puppy looks at you.”
“Who absolutely deserves my full attention.”
“You can give it attention after you eat a granola bar,” he counters. “There should be one in your bag. Peanut butter. I put it there.”
You blink. “You’re creepy.”
“God forbid I take care of my girl” he scoffs
Another wave rolls through and you lean against the doorframe, eyes closing. Beads of sweat are starting to pepper your hairline.
“And the heating pad,” Jack adds immediately. “The wearable one. Did you charge it like I told you.”
“Yes,” you mutter. “It’s in my bag.”
“Put it on now.”
“I’m literally standing in my hallway.”
“And you’re literally in pain.”
You roll your eyes, but your chest warms anyway. “You literally deal with trauma for a living. I think you can handle my uterus throwing a tantrum.”
“Don’t joke about organs misbehaving,” he says flatly. “Bad precedent.”
You snort as you press the pad against your abdomen, warmth blooming slow and steady. It helps enough to stand upright again.
“You’re walking funny,” he says.
You freeze. “How would you even know that?”
“You get quieter when you’re hurting,” he replies. “And you rock side to side trying to soothe yourself”
You hate how right he is.
“Text me when you get there,” Jack says. No argument. Just that low, firm tone he uses when he’s trying not to spiral. “If it gets worse, you tell someone. I don’t care if it’s your boss or the world’s friendliest golden retriever.”
“I’m not telling a dog I’m dying.”
“You absolutely would,” he says. “You like animals more than people.”
“They don’t ask stupid questions.”
A beat.
“You’re such an old man,” you say, keys jingling as you head for the door.
“And you love me,” he shoots back.
You hesitate just long enough for him to hear it.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “I do.”
The pain ebbs again, dulling to a throb as you grab your bag and lock the door. You chalk it up to bad timing, hormones, your body being annoying but its survivable.
Normal.
You have no idea how wrong you are.
The animal shelter smells like disinfectant and fritos. Yummy
It’s comforting in a way some people wouldn’t understand.. Dogs barking in uneven bursts, the low hum of the ventilation, a cat somewhere hissing dramatically at a mild inconvenience. You hang your bag in your locker and move on autopilot, like you always do.
Your phone buzzes.
Jack: You there?
You smile and unlock it.
You: at work 🫡
You: don’t yell at me
You snap a picture before he can ask. A granola bar half-unwrapped, a bottle of water already sweating onto the metal table. You make sure your heating pad is visible in the corner, clipped under your hoodie like proof of compliance.
You: proof of life + nourishment
Three dots appear. Pause.
Jack: I see water.
Jack: Eat first. Then meds.
Jack: Don’t try to out sass me, you’ll lose everytime
You huff a quiet laugh and take a bite, chewing even though your stomach feels tight and off.
You: yes daddy 🫡
The typing dots disappear. Reappear.
Jack: …
Jack: Welp.
Jack: Someone’s gotta take care of you 🤷🏼♂️
You grin to yourself, warmth blooming in your chest that has nothing to do with the heating pad.
You swallow, then snap another photo. Pain meds in your palm. Water halfway gone.
You: see? compliant. hydrated. thriving.
Jack: Questionable on that last one.
Jack: Let me know when you take it
You do. Another picture sent. Malicious compliance at its best. You lean back against the counter and wait for the edge to dull.
It helps. A little.
Your phone buzzes again.
Jack: Good.
Jack: I’m gonna try to sleep before my shift.
Jack: Call me if you need anything.
You stare at that line longer than you mean to.
You: I will
You: go be grumpy in your dreams old man 😴
Jack: Watch it.
Jack: Love you.
Your chest does that stupid, warm, flutter thing.
You: love you too
The screen goes dark as you tuck your phone into the pocket of your pants as you step fully back into your day. Cleaning bowls. Refilling water. Speaking softly to the anxious ones, the scared ones, the ones who flinch at sudden movement.
You always feel steadier here. Animals don’t ask you to explain yourself. They don’t expect you to be anything but gentle.
“I know,” you murmur to a trembling pittie as you clip on a leash. “People can be a lot. But you’re safe here. I’ve got you.”
It’s a familiar comfort, and you won’t admit it but you love being needed.
Halfway through cleaning one of the kennels, the pain surges again. Sharper. Higher. It steals your breath this time, forces you to grip the metal door and press your forehead against it until the room stops tilting.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay. That’s new.”
Roco, your favorite pittie, noses your arm, worried. You manage a smile and scratch behind his ears, even as sweat beads along your hairline again.
“I’m fine,” you tell him softly. “Promise.”
You straighten and keep moving. Slower now. More careful. You don’t want to scare anyone. Or make a fuss. PCOS is a bitch. Painful periods that come out of nowhere.
Jack’s asleep. You don’t want to bother him. It’s probably just hormones. Stress. Your body being dramatic like it always is.
You slip back into your routine, ignoring the way the pain keeps clawing, unfamiliar and insistent.
You don’t call.
You really, really should have.
The next cramp doesn’t come in waves.
It hits all at once.
It’s sharp and blinding, a white-hot spike that steals the air from your lungs and folds you forward with a sound you don’t recognize as your own. Your knees buckle before you can even think to brace yourself, one hand slipping uselessly against the kennel door.
“Oh—fuck,” you gasp, the word breaking apart as pressure blooms deep in your abdomen, wrong in a way that sets off every internal alarm you’ve been ignoring.
The room tilts.
You try to call out. Try to steady yourself. Try to do anything other than sink to the concrete floor like your bones have turned to water.
You don’t make it.
Your shoulder clips the edge of the kennel as you go down, the impact distant and dull compared to the pain ripping through you now. It’s everywhere. Radiating. Crawling upward. Your vision tunnels, spots dancing at the edges.
“Hey—hey!” someone shouts. Footsteps. Too many. Too loud.
A dog starts barking, sharp and panicked.
“I—I’m okay,” you try to say, but it comes out thin and breathless, more of an automatic response than truth. You curl instinctively, knees drawing in as nausea roils hard enough to make your mouth flood.
You hear your name.
Hands hover, unsure where to touch, afraid to hurt you more.
“You’re not okay,” a coworker says, voice tight. “You’re really not okay.”
You shake your head weakly, sweat slicking your temples. “I just—need a second.”
Another bolt of pain tears through you and you cry out this time, sharp and broken, fingers clawing at the concrete as if it might anchor you.
Someone swears.
“Call 911,” another voice says. “Now.”
You try to protest. Try to say Jack is sleeping, that it’s probably nothing, that you can’t afford to make a scene. Your body ignores you completely.
The world narrows to sirens and pressure and the overwhelming certainty that something inside you has gone terribly, catastrophically wrong.
The paramedics move fast.
You’re barely aware of being lifted, of straps securing you to the gurney, of oxygen pressed to your face as someone asks questions you can’t seem to answer clearly.
“Any allergies?”
“Pain level?”
“Possibility of pregnancy?”
“No,” you gasp. “PCOS. I—fuck—please—”
“Okay, okay, we’ve got you,” a calm voice says, grounding but distant. “Stay with me.”
You try. God, do you try.
As they wheel you out, someone grabs your bag from your locker and sets it on the counter. Your hoodie is draped over a chair. Your phone, face down and on silent, sits beside a half-empty bottle of water and a crumpled granola bar wrapper.
No one thinks to grab it.
The doors close behind the stretcher.PTMC blurs into existence in bright lights and clipped voices.
You’re moved. Shifted. Prodded. The pain spikes again, vicious and consuming. Your focusing on your breathing. When they start shouting..
“Something’s wrong,” someone says urgently.
“We’re losing her pressure.”
“Get surgery on the line.”
Fear cuts through the fog at last, sharp and sobering.
“Jack,” you whisper, barely audible. “I need—”
No one hears you.
Your phone is miles away, sitting quietly on a shelter counter, while the man you love sleeps, blissfully unaware, preparing for a night shift that will change everything.
They sit you upright just long enough to hand you a clipboard.
Your skin feels hot and cold all at once. Sweat rolls along your face, dampening your collar, while a shiver rattles through your bones hard enough to make your teeth chatter.
“I can’t—” you start, voice thin. “Why do I have to fill this out?”
The nurse crouches slightly so she’s in your line of sight, her voice steady and kind. “It’s just routine, baby. No one came in with you, and we need as much information as we can get to help you, okay? Just do what you can.”
You nod, even though your hands are shaking so badly the pen nearly slips from your grip.
Name.
Date of birth.
You pause between fields, breathing shallowly through another wave of pain that twists deep in your abdomen. It’s not like cramps anymore. It’s wrong. It feels like something has torn.
Emergency contact.
Jack.
Your chest tightens. You picture him without meaning to. Slouched at his kitchen counter in yesterday’s T-shirt, black coffee steaming between his hands. Brow furrowed like he’s already annoyed at the world. Or maybe smirking, saying something dry and stupid just to make you laugh.
You wish he were here. He’d make a joke. He’d tell you you’re fine even while his eyes give him away.
Another shiver wracks through you, sweat cooling unpleasantly against your skin. You scribble his name down quickly, afraid you’ll lose the moment of clarity if you don’t.
The numbers blur. Your grip tightens. Another spike of pain steals your breath and your hand jerks.
You don’t notice the mistake.
The nurse takes the clipboard gently from you before you can look it over.
“Thank you,” she says. “That helps a lot.”
You want to tell her to wait. To double-check. Something nags at the back of your mind, thin and insistent, but it’s drowned out by another surge of pain that drags a broken sound out of your throat.
“Oh—oh my God—”
“Okay,” the nurse says immediately. “Let’s get you lying back.”
They lower the bed, voices layering now, efficient but urgent.
“What are you feeling?”
“Sharp,” you gasp. “It started low and now it’s—everywhere. I’m cold. I’m hot. I feel—icky.”
“Any medical history we should know about?”
“PCOS,” you manage. “I—I get cysts. I think maybe one ruptured?”
It makes sense. It’s something you’ve survived before and It’s less terrifying than the alternative creeping at the edges of your thoughts.
“That’s good to know,” someone says. “We’ll check everything.”
An IV slides into your arm. Cool saline, then the slow burn of pain medication following it. The edge softens just enough to make your head feel heavy
“Okay,” a doctor says. “We’re going to run labs and get imaging. Just to be safe.”
As they wheel you down the hall, lights streaking overhead, fear finally punches through the haze.
“I just want Jack,” you whisper, tears slipping sideways into your hair. “Please.”
“We’re taking good care of you,” a voice promises.
You let your eyes close, trusting that promise because you don’t have the energy to fight anymore.
Behind the scenes, the number is dialed.
It doesn’t connect.
They try again.
Still nothing.
And you have no idea that the man you love is still asleep, hours away from walking into his biggest fear
Time stops meaning anything.
It stretches and snaps in strange ways, hours bleeding together until you can’t tell if you’ve been awake for minutes or days. You drift in and out, pulled under by medication and dragged back by pain that never fully lets go.
Every time you surface, you look for him.
You expect Jack to be there. In the chair by the bed. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Scowling at the monitor to ensure you're truly stable. You expect his voice before you even open your eyes.
He’s never there.
The first time you realize it, confusion settles in your chest, slow and heavy. The second time, it curdles into something sharper.
By the third, you’re angry.
Where is he?
Another wave of pain rolls through you and you hiss, fingers digging into the sheets. Your skin still feels too warm, then too cold. You're soaked in sweat while chills ripple through you uncontrollably.
He said to call if you needed anything.
You needed everything.
You squint at the clock on the wall when your eyes manage to focus. Too much time has passed. Enough that he should be here by now. Enough that the hurt starts to whisper things you don’t want to hear.
Maybe he didn’t answer because he didn’t want to.
Maybe you mattered less than you thought.
The thought lands hard, stealing what little breath you have.
A woman in blue scrubs notices you stirring and moves closer, her presence calm in a way that feels genuine. She has kind eyes. Tired, but kind.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I’m Dr. King. Mel.”
You swallow. Your throat burns. “Can I—” Your voice cracks immediately. You wince, frustrated with yourself. “Can I get an update?”
“Of course,” Mel says, pulling the curtain a little more closed, making the space feel smaller. Safer. “We’re still waiting on imaging, but your pain and labs are concerning. We’re keeping a close eye on you.”
You nod weakly. That’s not what you want.
“Did—” You hesitate. “Did my boyfriend come?”
Mel’s expression shifts. Just slightly. Careful.
Your stomach drops.
“We’ve been trying the number you gave us,” she says gently. “I’m really sorry.”
Your chest tightens painfully.
“He knows,” you croak, more hope than fact. “He has to.”
Mel doesn’t contradict you. Instead, she reaches out, her hand warm and comforting on your arm.
“Let’s take a breath together for a second,” she says softly. “Focus on me, okay? You’re here, you’re being taken care of, and we’re doing everything we can.”
It doesn’t help.
Another surge of pain rips through you and you cry out, curling inward as much as the bed will allow.
“I just want Jack,” you sob. “Please. I just want him.”
“I know,” Mel murmurs, petting your hair. “I know.”
She stays until your breathing evens out, until the tears quiet into shaky hiccups. When she finally steps away, the room feels emptier than before.
You drift again, consciousness slipping, anger and hurt tangling with fear as your body fights something you still don’t have a name for.
And somewhere across the city, Jack Abbot sleeps through the worst hour of your life, completely unaware that you’re waking up scared and hurting and wondering if love is supposed to feel like this.
Robby's POV
Mel doesn’t ask for help often.
So when she pauses at the desk, a chart tucked under her arm, and says, “Can you go check on Bed Twelve for me?” Robby doesn’t argue.
“She’s scared,” Mel adds quietly. “And she keeps asking for her boyfriend.”
That’s enough.
Robby heads down the hall, already bracing himself. Severe abdominal pain. Labs trending the wrong way. Imaging pending but urgent.
He pulls the curtain aside and stops cold.
“Oh. Shit.”
You’re curled slightly on your side, knees drawn in as much as the monitors allow. Pale. Sweaty. Shivering despite the warmed blankets. You look smaller than you should, lashes damp like you’ve been crying in your sleep.
And suddenly it clicks.
Jack’s phone.
The wallpaper.
The way his voice softens when he says your name.
“Oh fuck,” Robby breathes.
Your eyes flutter open.
“Jack?” you whisper immediately, hope fragile and aching.
Robby steps closer, gentle. “Hey. It’s Robby. I work with him.”
Confusion flickers across your face, quickly chased by fear.
“Where is he?” you ask. “He was supposed to—”
Before Robby can answer, a nurse appears. “Imaging’s back.”
Everything shifts.
Jack's POV
Jack clocks in on autopilot.
Badge swipe. Fluorescent lights. The quiet, constant ache in his leg where the prosthetic rubs wrong. He moves at a steady pace, black coffee in hand, already scanning the board.
Robby spots him first.
Jack lifts his chin slightly, dry as ever. “Damn, brother,” he says. “Where’s the fire?”
Robby opens his mouth and stops when he sees Jack’s face.
The joking dies instantly.
Jack follows his gaze. Feels the shift in the air.
“What,” Jack says flatly.
Robby steps closer, voice low. “Jack… there’s a patient in one of the bays. She came in earlier today.”
Jack exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “Okay? That narrows it down to… most of the ER.”
Robby doesn’t smile.
Jack’s brow furrows. “What. Did she steal your parking spot?”
“Jack,” Robby says carefully. “She looks just like your girl.”
Jack’s grip tightens on his coffee cup.
Robby swallows. “And you’re the only Jack Abbot I know.”
The humor drains from Jack’s face in real time.
“She keeps asking for you,” Robby finishes quietly.
Jack’s voice comes out rough. “No.”
Robby nods once. “Yeah.”
Jack stands there, frozen, like his body hasn’t caught up to what his brain just heard.
“Why wasn’t I called,” Jack demands, anger flashing hot and fast.
Robby winces. “They tried. The number on the file was off by a digit.”
Jack shakes his head once, sharp. “She knows my number.”
“She was scared,” Robby says softly. “And in a lot of pain.”
Before Jack can answer, a surgeon steps in, urgency written all over him.
“Appendix rupture,” the surgeon says. “There's an infection. We’re taking her to the OR now.”
Jack’s heart slams violently.
“No,” he says hoarsely. “I need to see her.”
“If you want to say something,” the surgeon replies, already moving, “now’s the time.”
Jack doesn’t run. He can’t. But he moves as fast as his body allows, every step heavy and burning as Robby keeps pace beside him.
“She thinks you’re not coming,” Robby adds quietly. “She’s scared.”
“Fuck,” Jack breathes. “I was right here.”
Your POV
They’re moving you again.
Faster now. Voices sharp and clipped. Someone tells you they need to take your appendix out. Someone says surgery. Someone presses something cool into your IV.
Fear spikes, bright and panicked.
“Jack,” you whisper. “Please.”
The bed stops.
A hand closes around yours.
“Hey,” a voice says. Familiar callouses scratch against your palm.
Your eyes flutter open.
He’s here, hair still damp, badge crooked, chest rising and falling like he fought the whole hospital to get to you.
“Where have you been?” you ask, voice small and cracked, not angry. Just hurt.
Jack leans in instantly, forehead pressing to yours. “Baby, I—”
The world tilts and the ceiling tiles blur
“No, wait—” he says urgently, squeezing your hand.
But the anesthesia pulls you under before he can finish, his words dissolving into darkness as the OR doors swing shut.
Jack stands there, frozen, your warmth still lingering in his palm, the explanation trapped in his chest, too late to matter now
Jack is pacing.
Not fast, physically he can’t, but he’s relentlessly. Short turns. Tight arcs. The prosthetic clicks faintly against the floor every time he pivots, the sound grating on his already-frayed nerves. His hands keep clenching like he’s looking for something to grab onto and coming up empty.
“This doesn’t make sense,” he snaps. “My name is on her chart. My name.”
Robby steps closer, palms out, trying to slow the room down before it detonates. “Jack. Listen to me for a second.”
Jack barrels right past him.
“You’re telling me nobody thought to connect that?” he continues. “She comes in critical, my name’s listed, and no one thinks to call the ER attending with the same goddamn name?”
“Jack,” Robby says firmly now. “That’s not how intake works and you know it.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jack fires back. “That’s negligence.”
“It’s protocol,” Robby replies, jaw tight. “They call the number. That’s it. They don’t Google coworkers.”
Jack scoffs, sharp and humorless. “Lazy system.”
Before Robby can answer, Mel approaches.
She has her tablet tucked under her arm, hugged loosely to her chest like it’s grounding her. Her expression is careful but open, eyes soft with recognition rather than defensiveness.
“You wanted a play-by-play,” she says gently. “I can tell you what happened.”
Jack turns on her immediately. “Good. Because I want to know exactly what I missed.”
Robby shifts, uneasy, but Mel just nods once and begins, voice steady in the way that comes from weathering chaos.
“She came in from an outside location,” Mel says. “Severe abdominal pain. Diaphoretic, tachycardic. She was scared.”
Jack’s jaw tightens.
“We started fluids and pain control right away. Labs, imaging. She kept asking for her boyfriend,” Mel continues. “She was crying.”
Jack’s head snaps up. “And you didn’t think to ask who that was?”
Mel blinks, caught slightly off guard by the edge in his tone, but she doesn’t bristle. “She kept saying ‘Jack,’” she explains gently. “Just Jack.”
She tilts her head, earnest. “It’s a common name. I didn’t realize she meant you, Dr. Abbot.”
Jack lets out a harsh, brittle laugh. “So you just assumed it was someone else.”
“I assumed it was someone important to her,” Mel replies quietly. “And I took that seriously.”
Without noticing, she hugs the tablet a little closer. “I stayed with her when she asked. I told her she was safe. I told her we were taking care of her.”
“Clearly that wasn’t enough,” Jack snaps.
The words hang in the air, soft and unfair.
Mel’s expression falters, just a little. She takes a slow breath, grounding herself before responding.
“She is stable,” Mel says softly but firmly. “Because people here did their jobs.”
“That’s enough.”
Dana steps in, decisive, placing herself squarely between Jack and Mel.
Jack turns on her. “I just want to know why she thought I didn’t—”
“No,” Dana cuts him off, calm but lethal. “What you want right now does not outrank how you’re acting.”
The room stills.
Dana holds his gaze. “You do not get to unload your fear on the doctor who sat with her while she cried.”
Jack’s chest heaves. “She thought I didn’t come.”
“And that’s devastating,” Dana agrees. “But it is not Mel’s fault. And it is not Robby’s fault. And it’s not something you can fix by tearing this place apart.”
Jack opens his mouth and snaps it closed.
Dana’s voice softens, just enough to catch him before he falls apart. “You’re scared. You’re angry. You’re allowed to be. But you need to get your shit together.”
Robby nods beside her. “She’s going to wake up soon. Confused. In pain. Looking for you.”
Dana steps closer, lowering her voice. “She needs you steady, Jack. Not spiraling. Not snapping. Steady.”
Jack drags a hand down his face, the fight draining out of him all at once.
“I was right here,” he whispers. “The whole time.”
“I know,” Dana says, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And when she asks, you tell her that. But first — you sit.”
She gestures to the chair.
Jack hesitates, then sinks into it, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might crack open and give him answers.
Mel gives him a small, forgiving nod. “I’ll come get you as soon as she’s out,” she says softly.
When she leaves, Dana squeezes Jack’s shoulder once. “Breathe.”
Jack nods, barely.
Behind closed OR doors, machines hum steadily as surgeons work to fix what went wrong.
And for the first time since he walked into the ER, Jack Abbot stops moving because the woman he loves is going to need him whole when she wakes up.
Jack sits and stares at his phone.
The screen lights up when he taps it, muscle memory more than intention. The wallpaper fills the glass, not a posed photo, not anything special. Just you, half-turned, hoodie slipping off, laughing at something he said that he doesn’t even remember anymore.
This morning.
You sounded fine. Annoyed at your cramps, sure. But alive. Upright. Teasing him.
His chest tightens hard enough to make him wince.
“I should’ve known,” he mutters, even though he knows better. Even though Dana already told him this spiral won’t help.
He locks the phone and leans forward, elbows on his knees.
Honesty, he decides.
No half-truths. No softened edges. If she’s going to wake up confused and hurting, she deserves the real thing.
“I didn’t get the call,” he practices under his breath. “The number wasn’t right.”
Anger flares hot and fast, just under his ribs.
“They shouldn’t have made you write that down,” he adds quietly. “Not like that. Not when you were hurting.”
His jaw tightens.
“And I was scared,” he admits to the empty room. “Out of my goddamn mind.”
Jack exhales slowly and stands when he hears movement behind the curtain.
You wake up sore.
Not sharp pain, but deep and heavy, like your body ran a marathon without telling you. Your mouth is dry and your head feels fuzzy, thoughts slipping when you try to grab onto them.
You make a small, unhappy sound before you can stop yourself.
“I know,” Jack says immediately. “I know, baby.”
Your eyes flutter open.
He’s right there.
Close enough that you can see the crease between his brows, the faint redness around his eyes. His hand is already on the bed rail, anchored and refusing to move.
“Jack?” you whisper, voice thin and shaky.
Relief crashes through you so hard it makes your chest ache.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m here.”
You frown, confused, emotions tangled and blurry. “You weren’t—” You swallow. “You weren’t before.”
Jack doesn’t dodge it.
“I didn’t get the call,” he says gently, leaning closer so you don’t have to strain. “The number on the form was wrong. Just a digit. I didn’t know until I walked in.”
Your brow furrows. You try to make sense of it, but your head feels too full of cotton.
“They made you fill that out when you were in that much pain,” Jack continues, anger bleeding through now. “I’m furious about it. I hate that you were scared and I wasn’t here.”
His voice cracks despite his best effort.
“I was so scared,” he admits. “I would’ve come the second I knew. You know that.”
You blink at him slowly, tears gathering without permission.
“But you’re here now,” you mumble.
“Yes,” he says immediately. “I’m here now.”
That’s all that matters to you.
You make a small, needy sound and reach for him, fingers weak but determined.
“Come here,” you whisper. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t hesitate. He moves closer, carefully, one arm sliding around your shoulders as he leans down. He presses a kiss to your forehead first, then your temple, then your cheek, its soft like he’s afraid you’ll disappear
“I just want you,” you whine quietly, face tucking into his chest. “Hold me.”
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you fully now. “I’ve got you.”
You cling to him like gravity changed directions, fingers twisting into his scrub top, nose pressed against his collarbone. Your breathing evens out almost immediately.
Jack doesn’t care who sees.
If anyone looks in, they’ll see an ER attending bent protectively over his girlfriend, prosthetic planted firm, arms tight around the woman he almost lost.
And he does not give a single damn.
You sigh, content despite the pain, eyelids fluttering.
“Don’t leave,” you whisper.
Jack presses his lips to your hair, voice absolute. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You fall asleep like that clutched against him, safe and for the first time since he walked in, Jack lets himself breathe all the way out.
AN: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I finally decided to post it 🫡
PLEASE send me requests!! I have a few more drafts I plan on posting, but I’m nothing if not a people pleaser 🤭
Robby finds out about Whitakers unfortunate situation kind of unconventionally. In a way that makes it clear that Whitaker never would’ve told him otherwise. Which is fair. It’s not something he’s obligated to tell anybody.
It had been about twenty minutes since anybody had seen the R1 anywhere. The floor had one less physician, and that never goes unnoticed. Med students have one less person to present to. There are two to four patients that aren’t getting the care they need. And twenty minutes could be the difference between someone living or dying. So, when it gets back to Robby that nobody has seen Whitaker, he’s on the hunt.
Luckily, it doesn’t take much snooping around to find him. He can clearly see Whitakers boots under one of the stalls in the mens room. It makes him wonder how nobody had thought to knock on the bathroom door. Robby gets interrupted in here all the time. But, the sound of the boy’s gasping cries brings him back into the moment. Dennis must not’ve heard the door open.
He shuts the door behind him softly, hoping to not startle the kid. “Whitaker? You doing alright in here?”
The crying shutters to a stop, followed by an audible gulp. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine… Sorry.”
Robby finds himself leaning against the wall next to the urinals, just outside the stall door. “You’re okay,” he reassures him softly. “I’m assuming you’re not in there crying over bathroom troubles?”
Dennis chokes out a half sob that Robby’s sure he’s trying to play off as a laugh. It doesn’t really work though. “No-… No not really,” he mumbles. Instead of responding immediately, Robby just listens— giving Whitaker the opportunity to say more if he wants to. He’s met with the soft sniffling of tears that are surely falling once again. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Making sure to keep his voice light, Robby takes the bait. While of course he wants to help just based on the fact that Whitaker is a friend and a coworker, he also really wants to get one of his best physicians back onto the floor. “Talk to me, Whitaker. Can I do anything to help you out?”
Theres a long moment of thoughtful silence before Whitaker finally speaks. “I mean… Yeah. Theoretically.”
Robby huffs out a laugh. “Okay then. I’m at your service.”
Maybe his joke doesn’t lighten the mood as much as he expects it to. He can hear Dennis sniffling again before he knows it. “I just didn’t ever want to tell anybody here…” He whimpers. “I didn’t think I’d ever have to. Trinity doesn’t even know.”
This makes Robby’s eyebrows furrow a bit. A secret that Dr. Santos doesn’t even know about? Obviously, is curiosity is peaked. But, clearly this is hard for him to talk about. “Hey… whatever it is, I promise it stays right here. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”
Another long bout of silence fills the bathroom. This one is significantly longer than the last. Finally, theres a low, wobbly confession from behind the stall door. “I um..” he whispers. “I’m…transgender?”
Robby’s initial response is confusion. Not necessarily because he doesn’t understand. No he understands perfectly well that gender identity and body dysmorphia are things that can cause significant mental distress. Whats confusing is that, this is whats kept him off the floor for the past 30-ish minutes? He wonders if this has been something on Whitakers mind for a while, and maybe just broke down. Robby’s mind starts wandering to how switching pronouns its going to feel— until Dennis speaks up again.
“I was on testosterone for a long time, but I had to go off it once my student loans started kicking in. And I just started fucking bleeding out of nowhere.” He chokes the last part out through sobs, and Robby can practically hear his head falling into his hands. “I bled through my scrubs so bad, I had to sanitize the stool I was sitting on while charting…”
“Oh—” He can’t help but verbalize his own realization. “Oh you’ve already transitioned? I never would’ve known…” His rambling is only met with a pitiful hum behind the stall. Then Robby finally realizes whats going on. He’s never had to have this conversation before with anyone who wasn’t a girlfriend staying at his own house. Never in a million years would he have experienced to have this conversation with one of his male residents. “Oh— oh okay. So, you need new scrubs? Underwear? Pads, tampons? I can get you whatever, bud.”
Whitaker very bravely tries to talk through tears. “Y-yeah.. Um. Scrubs and underwear… boxers and a couple tampons please?” He sniffles, mumbling out, “Id rather die than wear women’s underwear.”
Robby nods, “You and me both. Is there anything else? I can get you some Midol from the staff room.”
Dennis shakes his head on the other side of the stall, “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get some later. Just the clothes please?”
Taking that as a sign to please hurry up, Robby tells Whitaker to stay put before leaving. He scrounges up a set of scrubs, grabbing a pair two sizes down from his own. He finds a clean, fitting, pair of boxers in the lost and found bin. He’s incredibly grateful that all the clothes in there are washed and sanitized. Finally, with the clothes shoved under his arm, he makes his way behind the hub. The tries to be as quick and discreet as he can as he shoves his hand down under the desk, into the drawers labeled ‘feminine hygiene products’. He wonders if he should talk to Dana about printing a new label for that.
With a couple tampons shoved in his pocket, he makes his way back to the mens room. He quickly bends over and makes sure none of the other stalls are taken before he speaks. “Okay. I think I got everything.” He says, fishing the tampons out of his pocket to pass under the stall first.
Dennis shyly grabs them without a word. But he finally speaks when Robby hands over the scrubs and underwear. “Thanks…”
Robby hums in response. “Mhm. Of course. Can you meet me in the break room before you check on your patients please?”
Dennis is quiet for a minute, but eventually nods. “Yeah…”
When Dennis arrives in the staff lounge, Robby is already there with a small paper cup on the table. He wordlessly stands and makes his way over to the fridge. He pulls out a blue gatorade from the bottom shelf and sets it down next to the cup. “Take those, and chug half this gatorade before you leave.”
Whitaker looks up at him a bit confused, but takes a seat anyway. He looks down into the cup and see’s two little blue pills looking back up at him. Its not until he reads the little black label on the pill casing that says ‘Midol’ until he realizes what it is. He tossed the pills back and cracks open the elixir of life that is blue gatorade.
Robby’s stood over by the vending machine before he can even get the pills down. He patiently waits for Whitaker to swallow the pills before he speaks. “M&M’s, Kit-Kats or a Dove chocolate bar?”
“Oh, you don’t have to ge—“
“Shhh. I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“…the chocolate bar, please.”
Robby nods approvingly and swipes his card, typing in the code for the candy bar. “Good choice.”
Robby slides the chocolate bar across the table, and Dennis tentatively takes it and shoves it in his pocket.
“I appreciate you letting me help you. I know that was probably hard to say out loud.”
Dennis nods, taking another sip from the Gatorade. He lets out a more genuine laugh this time. “Yeah. You have no idea how close I was to letting you believe I’d pissed my pants.”
Robby can’t help but smile. “For the record. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Every good doctor has a close call every now and then.” He pats Dennis on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Remember. Drink at least half of that. You can set it at my station at the hub if you want to keep it close by.”
Closing the cap, Dennis hums. “Yeah. Yeah I got it,” He mumbles, standing to follow Robby out of the staff lounge. “Thank you again.”
the offer of housesitting directly after the conversation about boundaries was intentional and was structured that way (whether by robby or just the writers) to show robby manipulating whitaker. he tells him to set some boundaries, establishes himself as someone who knows what those are, can pass that advice on. then the offer comes, which then can be understood as normal, because robby is someone who whitaker knows has a healthy grasp on boundaries, because they've just spoken about it. so this must be normal, right?
Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Female Reader
Fandom: The Pitt
The apartment felt too quiet without him.
It had been like that for months now, but today—today it felt suffocating.
You stood in the kitchen, one hand braced against the counter, the other resting protectively over the slight curve of your stomach. Four months. Four months of silence. Four months of unanswered calls, unread messages, and voicemails that slowly went from hopeful to hurt to furious.
You had tried everything.
Calls.
Texts.
Emails.
Even a letter you weren’t sure ever reached him.
Nothing.
And the worst part? You knew he wasn’t the kind of man to just disappear. Not really. Not Robby. He cared too much. He felt too deeply.
Which meant one of two things:
Either something had happened to him…
Or he had chosen not to answer.
The second option hurt more.
The sound of the front door unlocking snapped you out of your thoughts.
Your heart stopped.
Then started racing.
Slow, heavy footsteps entered the apartment—familiar in a way that made your chest ache.
“...Hello?” his voice called, rougher than you remembered. Tired.
You didn’t move at first.
You couldn’t.
And then he stepped into the kitchen.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Robby looked… different. A little thinner. A little more worn down. Like whatever his sabbatical had been meant to fix hadn’t worked the way he’d hoped.
But his eyes—
His eyes landed on you and softened instantly.
“Hey,” he said quietly, like no time had passed at all. Like he hadn’t vanished for months.
Something in you snapped.
“Don’t,” you said, your voice shaking despite your best effort.
His brow furrowed. “Don’t… what?”
“Don’t come in here like everything’s normal, Robby.”
He blinked, clearly thrown off. “I—I didn’t know you’d be—”
“Of course you didn’t,” you cut him off, a hollow laugh escaping. “You didn’t know anything, did you?”
Now he looked confused. Concerned.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, stepping closer.
You instinctively stepped back.
That’s when his eyes dropped.
And everything changed.
His gaze locked onto your stomach.
The slight swell beneath your shirt that hadn’t been there when he left.
“…What—” his voice broke. “Is that—?”
“Yeah,” you snapped, tears already burning your eyes. “Yeah, Robby. It is.”
Silence slammed into the room.
His face went pale.
“How far—?”
“Four months,” you said, your voice sharp, defensive. “Four months pregnant. Which is funny, right? Because that’s exactly how long you’ve been gone.”
“I didn’t know,” he whispered.
You let out a disbelieving laugh. “No, you didn’t. Because you didn’t answer anything.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“I called you,” you said, your voice rising now. “I texted you, Robby. I left voicemails—I emailed you—I tried.”
His expression shifted from shock to something closer to horror.
“I never got anything,” he said quickly. “I swear to you, I didn’t—”
“Don’t,” you interrupted again, shaking your head. “I watched those messages sit there. Delivered. Not read. Not opened. Nothing.”
“I didn’t have my phone,” he said, running a hand through his hair, clearly panicking now. “I—I left it behind. I needed space, I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking—”
“Well, I was!” you shot back. “I was thinking for both of us, apparently!”
Your voice cracked, and that was it.
The anger shattered, leaving something much more fragile behind.
“I found out the day after you left,” you said, quieter now. “The next day, Robby.”
His face crumpled.
“I didn’t know what to do,” you admitted, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I needed you. And you were just… gone.”
He stepped toward you again, slower this time. Careful.
“I’m here now,” he said softly.
The words hit wrong.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Four months too late.”
That stopped him.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then, hesitantly, his gaze dropped to your stomach again—like he was trying to process it, like he didn’t quite believe it was real.
“…Is it—” he swallowed. “Is it okay? Are you okay?”
You hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Yeah. We’re okay.”
We.
The word didn’t go unnoticed.
Robby exhaled shakily, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure he was allowed to.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice raw. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… if I didn’t fix myself first, I’d just end up hurting you more.”
You looked at him, really looked at him.
“You already did,” you said quietly.
That one landed.
Hard.
He nodded, like he knew he deserved it.
“I know,” he said. “And I’ll spend as long as it takes making it right—if you’ll let me.”
You crossed your arms, not ready to give in that easily. Not after everything.
But…
He was here.
And despite everything, your heart still recognized him.
Summary: You skip work to see your emotional support soldier
Relationship: Jack Abbott x FTM!reader
Genre: PWP, Pure Smut
Word Count: 7K
Tags: Reader is DOWN BAD for that DILFy man, Age gap, Soft Dom! Jack, Daddy Kink… like reader says daddy A LOT, Breeding kink (Get some BC because babies in this economy?!) Reader is feminine in a femboy way, not in a woman way, Trans FTM reader, feminine words for anatomy, Minus the word “T-Dick”, Pet-names (Bunny, Good Boy, Kid/Kiddo), 2nd person, No use of Y/N, age gap, slight mention of Jack being Reader’s sugar daddy(?), Intern Reader, light sadism, mention of having a safe word but reader doesn’t use it, BIG DICK ABBOTT! You ever read a Clart Kent fic? Its that big. Kryptonian sized dick abbott, pathetic sub! Reader, Reader is possessive of Jack’s cum, he doesn’t like when Jack “wastes it”
A/N: This is the first fic I’ve written in 8 years and it might suck but I didn’t use AI so who cares, bring back shit, handwritten literature. No beta we die like Robby next season.
Shout out to my pookie J for getting me into this sexy man
From down the hall came the sound of something thumping lightly against the wall, then the unmistakable groan of someone dramatically taking off a backpack
“Living room!” Jack’s voice called back, muffled, tired, but clearly brightening the moment you heard them.
you couldn’t contain the amused grin that spread across your lips at the sound of the theatrics coming from the living room. “Coming!” As you walked in you was met with the sight of a very dramatic Jack, sprawled over the couch.
When you stepped further in, you’d find Jack sprawled lengthwise across the couch like a defeated soldier who had given up on life for the afternoon; One arm hung off the side, the other draped over his eyes.
His hair was a mess, hoodie half-twisted from tossing around, and a blanket had been kicked into a heap near his foot like you’d lost a fight with it.
But the second he heard the soft tap of their socks against the floor, Jack peeked through his fingers.
And immediately smiled.
“There he is,” Jack murmured, voice softer now. “My emotional support intern.”
Jack lifted his arm in a half-hearted grabby motion toward him “C’mere. Doctor said I’m critically low on cuddles. Very serious condition.”
“Oh, Doc, you don’t look too good!” He teased, eyes rolling, no trace of an insult behind the words. Jack always looked good. He reached out and brushed the mess of hair from Jack’s forehead. “You’re cuddle deficient?!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack muttered, though the corner of your mouth lifted. “Terminal. Very tragic.”
Jack shifted over slightly on the couch, making space but clearly hoping he would ignore the space entirely and just collapse on top of him.
Then Jack’s eyes flicked over the outfit. His eyes followed and looked over your outfit.
The shorts.
The oversized hoodie.
Jack’s grin widened a little.
The intern's light hair was parted neatly, cheeks rosy mostly from the chill outside, your sweater had oversized drop sleeves and a heart embroidery below the collarbone. The white knee socks had a blue ribbon ruffle at the hem to match your binder.
“You skipped work dressed like that just to come rescue me?” Jack licked his bottom lip as he teased. “Wow. I feel extremely important right now.
“Dressed like this? I always dress like this. You like it?” He asked standing back up; purely JUST to spin dramatically; after which he crawled back onto the couch, making your way between Jack’s legs and laying against his chest. Your rested his chin on his chest and you gave a cheeky grin.
Jack let out a quiet “oof” as you climbed onto the couch and settled between the older man’s legs, though the sound carried absolutely zero complaint. His arms immediately came around you, large and warm, instinctively pulling you closer until you were tucked comfortably against Jack’s chest;
“Abbot!!” You squealed as you were pulled tightly into Jack’s chest, giggling as you fell into him. Leave it to Jack to knock you off balance. You settled comfortably almost immediately, the familiar smell, the grounding embrace of the strong arms around you. You exhaled a little sigh that almost sounded like relief.
You stayed quiet for a few moments, with your cheek pressed against the warmth of Jack’s chest through the soft hoodie. You hummed your response, a nod of agreement. “You’re the most important” you said, burying your face into Jack’s pecs
Jack’s hand slid up your back in a slow, absentminded motion, fingers lightly tracing the soft fabric of the sweater before settling between your shoulder blades. With his other hand free now, Jack pushed himself up just enough to look down at you properly.
And he did look.
For a long second.
Jack’s eyes traveled over your short hair, your soft sweater with the little heart stitching, your shorts, your ribboned socks peeking out when your legs bent beside him. The teasing look softened into something a little warmer.
Once Jack pulled you back to look at him, you did the same. You sat up a little to stare back at him, palms pressed flat against his chest as you leaned against him. Your eyes were bright with a curious stare, you tilted your head, remaining quiet.
The unruly mess of hair atop his head, the faint smattering of stubble along his jawline, the warmth of his eyes, that telltale lopsided grin. All yours.
“Course I like it,” Jack said quietly. “You always look cute.”
The older man’s thumb lightly brushed the edge of your collarbone, careful, almost absentminded.
“Could be a public safety issue though, could cause an MVC looking like that” Jack whispers gruffly
“Dangerously cute? You make it sound like I’m up to no good, doc. A boy can’t get dolled up?” You teased, eyes flicking down to the hand trailing over the heart of your sweater. Not Prince? Not Kid? You hitched your knees over Jack’s hips to straddle him instead of tangling your legs together.
Jack’s gaze moved over you again, slower this time now that you were close. Your hair, still neat despite the soft wind outside. Your rosy cheeks.
His thumb brushed lightly over the fabric at your side where his hand rested on your inner thigh. “I do like it,” he said. “You know I do.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you with a fond, teasing look.
“The ribbons are new though, aren’t they? Very fancy. Should I be worried I’m underdressed for this cuddle appointment?”
“I wanted to look pretty for you Doc! Before you forgot what I looked like!” You chirped, pulling away to sit up straight in Jack’s lap and look down at yourself. You ran a hand through your hair before resting your hands overtop of his thighs.
“The ribbons are pretty, huh, look, they match perfectly!” You dragged your hands up to lift the hem of your sweater, revealing the blue ribbon stitched into the hem of your binder framing the bottom of your ribs.
“Thank you, Daddy!” You gave him a wink, “You bought it for me!” You grinned mischievously, having treated yourself with Jack’s card.
“Well there's no need to wear my scrubs now is there? No traumas, only very overdue, and apparently TERMINAL cuddles!” You reached up to tug Jack’s arm.
Jack’s arm came away easily when you tugged at it, though your hand immediately found a new place curling around your waist as you settled between his legs. The dramatic “dying man on a couch” act didn’t last long once you was there; warmth and amusement replaced it quickly.
“Yeah,” Jack murmured, voice low with a lazy smile.
“Did you miss me, old man?” Your voice was soft and teasing. Clearly he must have, to put on such a charming display.
When you settled your chin on Jack’s chest, Jack let out a quiet breath through his nose, clearly content now. One hand drifted up to gently comb through the soft strands of yourhair, slow and relaxed.
“Kiddo,” he said quietly, “of course I missed you” almost like it was obvious.
Jack’s hand slid from your hair to cup the back of your head, keeping you comfortably tucked against his chest.
It was too easy, you thought, the kind of quiet safety that you had always assumed only sleep could bring. There, laying against Jack’s chest, sunlight seeping in through the windows, warm hands caressing him, it was easy.
You let yourself enjoy it, and went a while without saying anything at all. You hummed in response every so often as Jack spoke, making yourself busy by rubbing your hands over his broad chest and shoulders nosing along his neck softly.
After a second, the crooked grin returned.
“I mean look at you,” he added, glancing at the shorts and socks again. “You show up looking like that and expect me not to be a little dramatic about wanting you here? Good timing, though. Five more minutes and I probably would’ve perished”
“You whistle and I come running, don’t I? Can’t leave you lonely for long! I’ve got a quota to meet!” You leaned into Jack’s hand, which was still in your hair. “Here lies Jack Abbot, big, strong, war vet, died from lack of cuddles. Who knew you could be so easily defeated?”
You pulled back to peek up at Jack after a while. You couldn’t bite back his grin, but you tried to, tried and failed until you were giggling at seemingly nothing. You peeked up at him, cheeks starting to protest at being stretched into such a persistent grin. “Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it? You’re looking at me like I hung the moon!” You teased, poking Jack’s nose.
“Oh, but you surely didn’t miss me enough.” You were content to stage your own theatrics then, with an exaggerated sigh as you ran your fingers back up Jack’s arms. “You haven’t even kissed me! How dramatic can you be right even kissing me?”
“Oh, ill kiss you” Jack chuckled darkly fiddling with your waistband “where would my angel like his kisses?” He said, ghosting his fingers over the button of your shorts before moving back to your thighs and eventually your arm, his thumb touching your bottom lip “have you missed me my prince?” He growled into your ear “wanna prove it?” Jack continued relentlessly “daddy can prove how much he missed you” Jack said his hand enveloping the younger man’s smaller one, bringing it down to rest on his huge erection, tenting through his pants “see how much i missed you?”
You gasped as Jack slipped his hand inside your shorts to feel where you had already soaked through your boxers. Just like that, a switch had flipped and you were wide eyed and nodding in agreement to everything he said. “Yes, yes I’ve missed you, I missed you so much...” You whispered, eyes flicking up to meet Jack’s own as you wrapped your lips around his thumb and sucked lightly. You let Jack move his hand wherever he pleased and the prominent bulge made you stifle a little whine as your fingers gently squeezed around the erection as you nodded again. He must have missed you just as much, the hard length never failed to take you by surprise.
Jack smiled lightly at your immediate whimpering, feeling you twitching under him, kissing your neck and along your shoulders, his hands resting on your hips, leaving yours on his cock; “wanna play?” He asked softly leaning in to kiss you; he growled holding himself back, gripping your hips, holding them still as to try not to grind against you accidentally. trying not to place you where he REALLY wanted you to sit, what he really wanted to watch you sink down on.
You nodded quickly, “Wanna have fun with me?” You whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. “S’that why you left me empty for so long? Wanna stretch me open again?” You asked, head tilted to the side and voice dripping with sweetened curiosity despite the dirty words.
While Jack was restraining himself, holding you down, you were pushing against his hands and trying to press your hips together. You whined when you couldn’t move, voice already desperate with need you didn’t bother hiding. “Daddy, please, I wanna touch you, please can we just-“ You interrupted himself whimpering “I’ll just rub a little I swear!”
Jack chuckled, loosening his grip; apart from the actual words out of his mouth, everything they did was incredibly adorable right now.
He had Jack’s shoulders in his petite hands trying his hardest to push forward, to feel the outline of Jack’s cock between his lips; feel him rocking against his T-dick
“Please, please-“ You breathed out, eyebrows furrowed with frustration as you pressed into the large hands at your hips. Wide brown eyes found Jack’s and it was written all over your face, how badly you needed it, how desperate you could get.
Your reserve broke, leaving you panting and begging like a slut “Don’t you wanna feel?-“ You whispered, tugging yourself closer by the arms around his neck.
“you going to show me what you’re made of kid?” Jack whispered into your ear; letting your hips go, Abbot’s timbre deep and vibrating in your eardrum
“Wanna rub just a little” the night shift doc teased, copying your desperation and sweet tone as he repeated it back “go on then sweetheart, I’ve deprived my little prince of my cock for long enough”
The minute Jack let go. “Ah~” you sighed with relief as Jack pressed against you, hips shifting over his, quick without being rough.
“J-Just a l-little!” You whimpered, taking a hand away from him to remove your shorts and make things easier. Then, you tilted your hips forward to slot his cock against your T-dick through your boxers. Your lips parted as your hips rolled forward in short, slow movements, “I think your cock missed me too doc, so hard already, mm..”
They moaned as you finally were able to push himself onto Jack's clothed cock, letting out a sigh of relief and rolling your hips, he closed his eyes slightly bucking up
“god my little slut” he teased rubbing your dick lightly with his hand before moving it away, letting you put on your show
“Daddy!” You gasped at the touch to your T-dick and your hips bucked under his hand before it was cruelly taken away.
“missed you so so much, was so hard and leaky for you this morning when i woke up, it was crying for you baby, it needed that pretty pussy bad, i had to waste some of your cum again to make it go down” he cooed into your ear, a faux tone of upset; looking up at you from his vertical position
“Huh?” You were dazed as he spoke, a little pout finding your lips. You pushed against Jack’s chest until he laid flat on the couch beneath you.
To anyone else, the sight would have been ridiculous, the frantic grinding making you so needy. “Not fair!” You braced your hands against his chest. Your little movements were consistent “You wasted it!, it’s mine, you shouldn’t have..”
You tilted your head back as you moaned in tandem with Jack, even the slightest contact made it all better. Your hoodie was fisted in one small hand as you circled your hips slightly until you found the right spot where the slide was easier.
Jack was enjoying the view before he was pushed all the way down, only seeing your pouting face as your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him down
“I’m sorry angel” he bit his bottom lip, his heart racing as he buckled against you “just needed it so bad” his eyes were fluttering slightly “you weren’t here to take it”
You were flustered beyond belief, it was evident in the way your hips moved. You didn’t pause for anything, each roll of your hips came more insistent than the last, you pressed snugly against him so that even when your hips were moving back there was friction.
You leaned forward on the hand pressed against his chest, hovering over him as your hips slowed down. “Did you think about me?” You asked, voice a little shaky from the grinding.
“Because I think about you Daddy. Just last night, I did.” You whispered, rolling your hips a little harder as if remembering. “I j-just, rubbed, just like this Daddy, ah- right through my pants, I missed you so much.” Your eyes were trained on his face, watching the way he struggled to keep his eyes open and you were mimicking whatever movement brought a reaction from him.
He bit his lip nodding fast; closing his eyes as if that will help stop the pleasure that is driving him feral “think about you always kid” he let out, sounding a little pathetic, “think about how warm and tight you are, h-how soft your skin feels, how pretty you look on your knees and when youre about to cum, how you look- Ah- fuck, how you look drunk and dizzy when you get all stuffed full of my cum” he rambled stuttering
Every time you made a quick move, Jack gasped a little or let out a deep moan into the air, his fists clenching around the sofa cushions as he was pleasured, as his subordinate took his own pleasure from Jack’s body.
He bucked up hearing about how you touched yourself just last night, growling lightly against his will, he didn’t ever want a moment where you needed to be full up and Jack wasn’t there to do so “chose to get filled up here instead of being all pretty and desperate at work?”
You watched with the same dazed look Jack was describing, cheeks flushed pink as your hips rocked against Jack’s.
For a second you bit into the back of your other hand before returning it to grip his shoulder. “I-I think about your voice when you, oh my god,” you were whimpering again. “T-Talk to a patient... And the noises you make when you’re trying not to be frustrated. Your hands holding me down ‘n’ making me take it when I can’t, can’t anymore! Y-Your cock when it, stretches and, throbs when you-“ It was your turn to ramble but the dirty words just made his your stutter.
“No- don't do that, don’t bite back your moans let me hear you” he listened to you, panting whilst you spoke and unraveled on top of him, stuttering and whining “when i push my cum inside?” He finished your sentence “please can i kiss you” he whined, you were so far above him sat up like that, and his prosthetic wasn't on, the leverage needed just simply not being there.
“I’m useless without “it”, can’t, can’t focus at work, can’t pay attention..” you continued rambling needily
“Cant focus? Only thinking about taking cock when you’re doing your sutures? Want your supervisor to come behind you and rub up against you? Want to be a good boy for me?” Jack groaned softly, his palms flexing around your soft thighs
Your head made little nods along with the movement of your hips and brown stands fell over your eyes as you stared down at him. “You’re so h-handsome can’t believe I get to look at you..”
“Look at me alllll you want to prince, I’m all yours” he moaned lightly looking up at you like you were the stars themselves
Jack was equally as flushed his pupils dilated, his pants straining uncomfortably, his cheeks tinted pink as he had the prettiest boy in the world torturing him, he rubbed your waist with his thumbs as his hands wrapped around your waist all the way to your back “you’re so fucking pretty” Jack says fighting back a gasp
“Yeah? Your hand’s not as good, is it Daddy?” You murmured, sliding your hips down to press against his length. You shivered, feeling the head press tight against your T-dick as you whined, his words only flustered you more.
Jack shook his head “not nearly as good, or warm or pretty” he bucked against you “f-fuck” he whispered “can you-“ he panted slightly “can you take them off, hurts, need it to be free”
You bit your lip and nodded quickly in agreement. As painful as it was, you lifted your hips for a moment to tug his waistbands down, working his pants over his residual limb, leaving the other side for Jack to kick off as he pulled Jack’s cock out. You wrapped a hand around him and squeezed lightly before you pulled off his boxers to get his length wet.
Jack let out a gasp followed by a sigh of relief as his cock was released, it twitching in your hand as the air reached it, the head wet and glistening from his precum, from their “playing”, Jack accidentally bucked up; against his will, as he felt the warm embrace of your pussy, whining as he realised he wasnt inside you, he was just sliding against it
You let out a shaky moan as you felt Jack without anything in between. You breathed out and leant down to press your chests together and close the distance. You whined with complaint, not able to get the right angle where they were. You pressed your lips together in a desperate kiss, one where you were panting against Jack’s lips as your hips rolled into Jack’s, hard and slow. “Every time I spread my legs I just think about you... Wanna be on your shift instead..”
He bites his lip gently “yeah? Want to be bent over in the on call room instead, want daddy to stop doing paperwork and stuff my little love full of my cum, give you some extra credit to work hard on while you’re on your knees?” Jack says, teasing both himself and you
You were overwhelmed, all you could do was stare wide eyed as you listened to his fantasy, nodding like you would never tell him no. “Show off, mmh, make everyone s-so jealous..”
You trailed his tongue over Jack’s bottom lip as you tilted your head to kiss him better. Your hands unable to remove themselves from Jack’s, rubbing his thighs, his waist, chest, and finally face
You were all slick for Jack’s cock to rub against. You gasped into the kiss, feeling the change in the slide without his boxers in the way.
“Remember you, touched me for the first time r-right here Jack? Y-You could hardly wait to put it inside me and, ah ah, look at us now..” you mumbled, your hips went a little faster, Jack’s cock sliding so well between your lips.
Your voice drifted up higher as Jack’s hand squeezed over your hip, you rutted against him at a steady pace now, fast and short little motions.
Jack grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a closer more messy, makeout like kiss; you moaned into his mouth, dry humping him, your juices meddling together “god youre gonna kill me” Jack laughs weakly “feels so fucking good, ‘m not even inside you yet” he panted like a dog, before Jack decided to start putting his mouth to better use and marking up your neck
“I remember you took it soooo well, took ah- fuck kid! Took it like a champ” he groaned, gasping as he felt your lips around his shaft, his tip leaking more and more
You felt so dirty, getting so worked up in Jack’s lap, still semi clothed (well the top half anyways) and rocking your hips together. You were whining into the kiss, desperation clear with every little sound Jack swallowed from you.
You tilted your head eagerly for the marks, now whimpering right into his ear. “I’m t-trying so hard not to come, Daddy, you feel so perfect don’t, please don’t take it away..”
“Youre gonna cum? im not even inside you yet” jack moaned into your ear teasingly, bucking at the same pace to make you moan and whine as he teased your pussy “wanna cum for daddy, my sweet little bunny, all that begging for my cock and you couldn’t even hold out for it”
It was pathetic, almost, how you tucked your face into his neck because looking at him was going to make you come. “Daddy, p-please I can! I can’t hold out please! I need-“ you nearly choked, feeling him pushing against your hole, your hand flew up to hold tightly onto the back of his neck as you curled up against him.
Your knees tightened at his waist and you adjusted your hips for better leverage, “Wanna make you come so much, over and over, not leaving you alone unless you’re all empty!” You huffed, still pouting that he wasted what was your. “Daddy made it fit, ‘will make it fit again!” You begged, starting to throb against him as he spoke.
He started to play with your T-dick as you spoke “yeah? Want me to fill you up over and over, paint your walls and your throat and your body with it?” His hand moving to toy with your nipple
“I can’t go another day without your cock daddy please, please don’t make me, I’ll, I’ll do anything, won’t come for days just, just let me have it this time please-“ you babbled incoherently into his neck. “Yes, yes, want it everywhere I’m s-so needy Daddy-“ you hiccuped as he started pressing against your T-dick, you bit down where his neck met his shoulder, trying to resist.
he groaned into your ear as he bit him “ah- hey, little vampire” he chastised his fingertips bruising your pretty hips
Jack pushed your leg a side prodding the tip at your entrance “i thought you wanted to be in charge today, my little cowboy, take what you want” he growled into your ear tapping it against your T-dick and your hole, waiting for you to be brave and take it
“Ah, y-you’re right I’m sorry you just!! I just get so!!” You whined, having forgotten all about your plan in your hazy state.
You were so used to Jack taking charge you were wasting your opportunity without even realizing. You gasped, feeling Jack tapping against you and you slid your hips up a little to let the head of the older man’s cock slip inside of you.
You muffled a strained noise into his neck before you sat up again to look at him.
“Such a little cock drunk angel, gonna breed you like one” Jack growled; his eyes dark from his pupils being blown from arousal.
“Gonna breed me doc? Fill me up n leave your mark?” You whispered, lightly lifting and lowering onto his cock. The thrusts were tiny and shallow, you barely took any length in, you weren’t stretched enough but you were too impatient to wait. Thankfully, you were soaked and Jack held your lips open making it easier for his cock to slide in correctly.
“Please Daddy, wait, ah, goodness, wait!” You cried out, his mouth falling open as little sounds poured out of it. Your eyes met his but struggled to stay open. You was so weak for Jack, of course you was close, you could’ve come ages ago but you’s been holding on to last for him.
“How can you have a cock like this and expect me to stay sane?” You pressed your forehead against his, sighing with relief as it became easier taking just the tip as you sunk down another inch or so. “Y-Your stupid huge cock, ah, god!”
Jack gasped and let out a mirthless chuckle, sighing happily before growling and slapping your cheek, lightly but firm. “stop fucking holding back your noises, be loud, be loud for daddy, let everyone hear you, atta boy” Abbot moaned trying not to thrust up and hurt you
“Yeah? Want daddy to breed that pretty pussy, keep all my cum inside; fill you up until it takes” he teased moaning with the little bounces “god youre so fucking small” he moaned “I don’t know how i ever fit, you’re like half the size of me”
He kissed you passionately as he bit your neck leaving marks all over wherever he could reach, licking and biting
The slap got your attention immediately, it made your hips twitch forward, “Ah!” You cried out, taking another inch before you were even ready, but the stretch felt so good. Jack being strict with you felt like a rare occasion, it always flustered you. “Yes, Daddy I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean to, ah please!” You whined , leaning into the hand on your cheek.
You were so wet; you were dripping down the length of him, coating the inches you had yet to take as you lifted yourself up and down slowly.
Your noises did get louder with Jack's encouragement, desperate and drawn out. No matter how dirty or rough, Jack always made you feel so safe and cared for, it made being intimate with him easy, second nature. “I’m your p-perfect fit daddy, I was made just for you. S’all I’m good for, ah, t-taking you..”
You were getting whiny, circling your hips to try and speed up the process, the marks on your neck made him impatient but you were still only about halfway down. “Y-You don’t make it easy..”
Jack stroked his cheek after “i want more” he whined pushing you down a little “atta boyyyy, stretching so well for me, take it-“ he moaned throwing his head back as the older man felt his subordinate’s pussy drool down his cock
“Jesus fucking christ kid” he moaned as you bounced little by little; the room filling with obscene noises as you took what you could, moaning and being brave, speaking up and talking dirty “thats it, my good little whore, all you’re good for huh?” he chuckled darkly “lets see how good you are at your job then?”
Jack smiled sadistically pushing you down more “fuuuuuuuuuuuck-“ he moaned as he did, making you take the two thirds of him “fuck youre so tight, my perfect fit; one more third to go”
You pressed your fingers into his shoulders as you listened to him talk, biting on your bottom lip as you rocked your hips. “Oh!” You dug your fingers in a little tighter, eyes blown wide as he forced you down. The stretch was intense but all you wanted was to please him, always. “Daddy, Daddy, ah~” It was a lot harder to be brave and talk when you were so full, you were incoherent.
Jack played with your T-dick whilst you were on top of him, kissing and biting where he could reach, spanking you slightly to jolt you up and back down again, making you fuck yourself on his cock
You could hardly keep your eyes open as you stared back at Jack, half lidded as your mouth fell open in a startled cry once he forced him down further. You could do this though, you didn't need to safe word just yet.
“Ah, Daddy, it’s, it’s too much-“ you whined, but his hips pressed down like he needed more too. “P-Please make it fit, I can-, I can’t, oh my, hah, take it!” You stammered, tilting your head back as he spanked you, your walls tightened reflexively, so close to bottoming him out you could taste it.
Jack shook his head gasping and moaning deeply; almost a growl as he feels you sink down “fucking hell, its not too much, ‘cmon, don’t chicken out now, he reached his hand between them; measuring the distance left with his fingers, making a pinching gesture he held the distance left up, showing you “so close, gonna run away when youre so close?” He teased
“Thaaaaats it” he moaned as he felt you stretch around him “such a good boy, use daddy for your pleasure my sweet love” he tempted “doesn’t it feel so good, so big, so full” he continued as he played with your dick
“I am? S-So close?” You blinked back at him, dazed as your eyes darted between his fingers displaying the distance and his face. “You’d let me g-get away?” Your eyes trained on his fingers as you began to bounce a little harder, feeling it get a bit less resistant.
“D-Daddy’s, Daddy’s good little boy-“ You whimpered immediately as petname got you even wetter. It was trancelike, the way you nodded.
Daddy said you could take more, so you did. You lifted up and sank back down at a steady pace, little pants leaving your lips. “Yeah, it’s so good, ah!” Your dick throbbed and you wrapped a small hand around his wrist, trying to keep it together. But he just kept talking, making it harder for you.
“Awww want me to make it fit? How about you make it fit, you sit alllll the way down” Jack jutted his hips before pulling you down to him, kissing you passionately before sticking two fingers into your mouth “suck” he demanded “if you can't fit it in your pussy, you will have to fit it in there; because sluts that can't fit the cock inside don’t get to ride it”
Your mouth opened immediately for his fingers, he moaned around them, glossy doe eyes maintaining eye contact as he spoke. He nodded as he sucked. His hips stopped bouncing as he focused on sinking down, rolling his hips until they met his and tears welled up in his eyes. Finally, no space between.
“Thats it little one, cmon kiddo just a liiiitlle bit- fuck!” He swore as he felt you start to bounce “mhmmm” he moaned nodding at you with his eyes tightly shut
“fuck- good boy, daddys good little boy” he pants thrusting up, matching your pace, whining slightly as he feels your squeeze around him pulling your hair gently with one hand and tapping his dick with the other
You gasped as his hips thrusted up immediately, a little flash of panic across your features from the sheer force of it. It made him cry out, especially when Jack started tapping his dick. “Daddy! Oh my god!” He tilted his head back as he pulled his hair. His thighs trembled as Jack thrusted up into his, he always managed to take over just in time for him to fall apart.
As you bottomed out he growled holding you down against him, his cock making a teeny bulge in your tummy, he pressed down on it “is that where daddy is, so far up, bet it feels good though huh”
Your eyes brightened once you took Jack’s full length, and you pulled Jack’s hand back slightly from your mouth, thrusting the fingers back in further once before taking them out. You smiled, head bobbing from not entirely holding your head up whilst bouncing. “Make D-Daddy proud?”
He nods grunting thrusting up hard “making me so proud fuck, taking me so fucking well” he said grabbing your throat whilst using your pretty pussy
Suddenly you were flush against his lap and unable to move your hips, being held down made you whine louder. You was flushed pink and looked overwhelmed, out of it. “Daddy’s r-right there-“ you nodded, moaning louder when he pressed against the spot. “P-Please I’msofull I c-can’t, if you don’t m-move I’ll!!” Your voice was frantic, he was pulsing around him, seconds from coming.
“‘S ok, its ok dont worry, you got this” Jack cooed as he saw the worry on your face “can take it, take it so well, you take it like a damn champ, my pretty whore”
you couldn’t stay still, your hands frantically scrambled for something to ground yourself on as the pleasure got more intense. you tugged Jack closer, fingers stretching the fabric of his shirt as your boss bucked his hips.
Jack kept you there; rubbing you T-dick faster “thats it, thats my pretty angel, cum allllll over daddys cock, squeeze me like a vice” you moaned bucking up even though he was already all the way inside you
you were practically wailing at this point, your throat under his hand vibrated with the constant noise.
Pleasure and fear was written across your features like it was too much. “Daddy, Daddy I’m,” your wide eyes locked on him as you started to cum. “Ah! J-Jack!” you cried out, your hips rocking back and forth lightly as you pressed into that little spot that made you squeeze your eyes shut and drag your nails down his arms.
“S-So good, Daddy, thank you, thank you!” your abdomen went taut and in that moment all you could do was whine as he talked you through it, convulsing and squirming against his lap.
Jack started to move again; the tightening, cum and squeezing were working together to help him move much smoother, his thrusts were shallow (which for Jack wasn't very shallow for the other person) and fast working on his own pleasure now he has taken care of you
Grunts and groans escaped Jack’s mouth as he essentially uses you as a fleshlight, the gym definitely prepared him well for this; fucking you within an inch of you life, 3 thrusts a second, a whole ass BPM of 160; if this was a patient; their brain would be long gone.
“Shhh its ok I know my sensitive boy, just take it, take it like a good bunny for me ok kiddo” Jack moans pulling your hair with rigour,
“O-Oh, oh my god!” you tossed your head back for a moment, lost in the heightened sense of pleasure. There was no reprieve from the thrusts, they came fast and whether Jack meant to or not, hard.
you held on tightly to the strong arms caging him in, nails digging little crescent shapes into his biceps. The ruthless pace had you trembling and whining like your own orgasm wasn’t quite over, he was drilling you into overstimulation.
“D-Daddy, Daddy, wait, h-help, ah!” You pleaded, not sure what for. The tug to your hair made you close your eyes tight, noises getting higher, breathier. “It’s too good- I, I can’t!”
Jack didn't stop; if anything he went faster; growling now, his hands moving to your hips; pulling you up and down like a doll, like you were just the sex doll he was masturbating with, you were as light as a feather in his arms.
“Please, wait, almost there, don’t make me stop” he basically whimpered and as pathetic as it sounded he was still very much in charge, he pulled you close by you hair; making out with you, moaning into your mouth, fingers bruising your hips
“Good boy, take it, just like that” he grunts into your mouth, their lips still connected as he spoke; staying at the same relentless pace as he milked himself with your body
“Daddy, please!“ you whined as he pounded away, like you weren’t fully conscious and present anymore. You always got so dazed and helpless when Jack got like this, just using you, and even if you pleaded for mercy; you both knew you didn’t want it.
You tucked your face into his neck for a moment, clinging to him. In your delirious state you were careful not to muffle your sounds, you couldn’t be quiet if you wanted to, not with him being so relentless.
You gasped into the kiss you were pulled into and did your best to kiss back but you were being bounced so roughly it was hard.
“Want you to f-fill me up, that's all I want.” You whispered, it came out small, pathetic even. You were tightening around him again, pleasure still aching deliciously.
“You will take what you’re given” he growls and scolds fucking into you like he was digging for gold “please? You're begging for cum so you will wait until you’re given it, don’t start acting like you don’t love being used like this. You know what to say if you want me to stop” He said, referring to their safe word of “scalpel”
“Thats it” he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as he listens to your moans “t-take it, take daddy's cock, such a good boy” he moaned into your ear “getting close, want it inside?” He whispered, biting your neck “want me to breed you honey?” He says, asking for your consent to cum inside of you
You stared up at him, wide eyed from how stern he sounded. It sent a shiver down your spine. You reached up to run a hand through your hair as you nodded, hair strands all messy from pulling and bouncing. You couldn’t look at him anymore, you turned your head to the side as he thrusted more sounds out of you. Loud, whiny, flustered noises you would be embarrassed about later when he mocked them.
“I l-love it, you’re right I, I love-“ you could barely get the words out, everything he said struck a nerve. “When Daddy uses m-me!” Your knees tightened against your waist.
The sight was obscene, the heart embroidered sweater was in stark contrast to the brutal thrusts you took. You sat there, less than half his size, all you could do was take whatever he gave you.
Your eyes brightened at the mention of him coming inside, “Please, Jack, I miss it so much! Wanna feel it, wanna be yours, all yours when you fill me up!” You pleaded, moaning at the bite. “Please, wanna be yours!”
The older man nodded fast, biting his own lip as his hips jutted, his thrusts getting less organised by the second “you gonna take it? Gonna take it all like a good bunny?”
“A-All of it Daddy, I’ll take it I swear! Be so good for you, ah!” You spoke quickly as your fingers curled into his hair and tugged lightly while he marked you. He knew all of your sweet spots, he marked every one of them, and you were back to circling your hips all needy and frantic.
Jack groaned kissing and sucking at your neck, leaving all sorts of marks that you will probably get asked about within the next week but he didn’t care, he wanted the world to know you were his; “mine” he growled darkly his cock pulsing as he got closer
“It’s okay Daddy I’m, I’m yours, I’m h-here, please, please let me have it please give it to me, oh, oh my god-“ You gasped as you felt him coming. You pressed yourself as close as possible, tightening around him as you rocked your hips lightly back and forth, riding him through it.
Jack spilled into you with a trail of expletives and forcing you all the way down once more, cumming all the way inside you, painting your walls, making sure you felt the short five warm bursts inside you “i love you” he said as he came, whispering it into your ear and kissing you gently, not pulling out
“Thank you Daddy! Ah, god, it’s so perfect, feels so right-“ you murmured. There was that Jack Abbot contrast that made your heart skip, a tender love confession after railing you within an inch of your life. You cupped his face and kissed him back “I love you too old man” you chuckled into his lips
