cw younger reader, power imbalance
dbf!jack abbot who’s always looked after you. your mom died when you were young, and he filled in the gaps that your father couldn’t.
dbf!jack who grows more and more worried at your behavior after you come home from college. staying out late, drinking far too much, bringing home men who he doesn’t trust and who don’t deserve to fuck you.
dbf!jack who pulls you aside to scold you after your father’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t give a shit what you do. he only wants to express concern, but you’re rolling your eyes and trying to push him away immediately. you’re not having any of it.
dbf!jack who grips your wrists with one hand to keep you from leaving. that’s all. but he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches, or the way your eyes drift to the corded muscles of his arms.
“listen here. i’ve seen too many pretty girls like you end up in my ER to let you act like this.”
you really, really hope he doesn’t notice how flushed you’ve gotten. he’s just so close, you see, and you can smell his aftershave from here. you put on your best defiant look.
“god, quit acting like you’re my dad!”
thirty minutes later, he’s fucking you so deep you can barely breathe. his thumb is pressing circles into your clit, sped on by the mess of arousal spilling out of you. the half-hearted and clearly faked moans he’s heard from you with the boys you usually fuck are nothing compared to the drawn-out whines and gasps you’re letting out now. your eyes are rolled back, completely lost in the pleasure he’s wringing out of you.
“yeah? who’s your daddy, huh?” he grunts, giving your hip a squeeze to prompt a reply.
“fffuck, daddydaddydaddy ‘m so close,” you moan. he clicks his tongue.
“i dunno, do naughty girls who disobey their daddies deserve to come?”
your eyes flash open, panic apparent in them. you shake your head quickly. “i’m sorry! i’ll stop, i swear ill stop, just please let me come daddy please.”
you’re nearly sobbing now. it feels like a herculean task to resist the orgasm that’s barreling towards you. jack coos at you with a smile.
“there’s a good girl. you can come, baby, come on.”
oh and u can bet ur ass he’s wracked with guilt over it afterwards. the worst case of post nut clarity this doctor has ever seen. hes cradling his head in his hands at the foot of your bed, whispering what the fuck did i just do while you’re lounging above him and scrolling through streaming services on your tv.
“what do you wanna watch? oh my god, get over yourself, it’s not a big deal. i’ve fucked plenty of guys older than you.”
you are going to be the death of him.
miiiight write a full fic of this if people want it
