So I never post anything on here but when can you say that you watched Captain America: Brave New World with Captain America HIMSELF, Anthony Mackie?!
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So I never post anything on here but when can you say that you watched Captain America: Brave New World with Captain America HIMSELF, Anthony Mackie?!

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hi can I request jack abbot x shy! reader?
like how would jack deal with an introvert reader who is shy and gets their social battery depleted fast.
đTags/Warningsđ: Introvert!Reader x Extrovert!Jack Abbot, fluff, comfort, shy!Reader, AttentiveBoyfriend!Jack Abbot
đPlotđ: Jack Abbot being Y/Nâs safe space/comfort person
đCharactersđ: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader
đTitleđ: You and Me
đA/Nđ: I hope you like it!!
((Requests are ALWAYS open))
Masterlist
You Started It
Plot: The Pitt needs Jack but he's asleep. Accidental cuddling when you go wake him up. No established relationship. This is the Oh moment. 1.6 K of fluff.
A/N: I decided it was only fair do a Jack Abbot version of the sleepy on-call room trope I did for Robby in A Match Being Struck. John Shen whump if you squint.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
You didnât see Shen and Parker playing Rock Paper Scissors down the hall as they each hoped to avoid being the one to wake Abbot. You missed Parkerâs arms go up in victory, followed by her peace sign as she walked off with a smug smile. All you saw was Shen leaning over the counter, drink in hand, as he said,
âCan you go grab Abbot for me? Heâs asleep and I canât have a repeat of last time.â He shuddered at the mention of it. Â
âJust put your drink down before you wake him,â you said. He curled the cup closer to his chest at the mere suggestion he separate from it.Â
missing shawn hatosy
Shawn Hatosy characters & their favorite parts of your body MDNI
Sammy Bryant is an ass man (thatâs his stress toy. Heâs always slipping his hand down your back to palm it, even in public. Everyone knows your his anyway, so why should he care if they see him touch you?)
Pope Cody is a boob guy (where else would he lay his head?? Nothing soothes him quite like laying half on top of you, his face turned in to your cleavage, your soft skin against his lips. Heâll lay sideways in your lap, sucking your nipples while you jerk him off, murmuring about how sweet and perfect he is for you.)
Titus Danforth has a thing for necks (so he can mark you as his. Heâll leave the craziest hickies and he absolutely refuses to let you cover them. He likes to fit his palm to the base of your neck and hold you still while he fucks you. He sits you at his feet during meetings, one hand cupping your neck under his desk while you cockwarm him)
Jack Abbot would say some shit like âpersonalityâ but really heâs got a thing for your thighs and stomach (he likes to fuck your thighs, he loves to bite the soft swell of your tummy when he goes down on you)
Grant Reilly worships your hands. Soft, but strong (he likes to play with your fingers, intertwine them with his when you go out. He trembles and swears when you jerk him off, your fingers standing out against the flushed skin of his cock.)
Brett Richards loves your hips (he palms them when he walks up behind you and kisses your neck, grips them tight enough to bruise when he goes down on you so you canât squirm away, uses them as handles to pull you back against him over and over, driving his thick cock into your fluttering hole)

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and thats how i met your mother (blurb? fic atp)
series background: one night at the er with a natural flirt and an attractive man and a freshly divorced woman? it folds a needy woman fast.. well for his newest co-worker atleast to transfer to the pitt.
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
word count: 3k
notes: so a anon asked if i could drop this here and it was in the proofreading process so we're back! i plan on making a series guide soon and hope yall enjoy!
warning: this is a alternative universe, pure fluff, reader is black, which shouldn't be a warning but here we are because people are insensitive when it comes to it, and also usage of y/n. you are now advised. also not proofread entirely.
oh to have a stressful day at work & come home to jack making you nap <3
throwing your heavy bag by the door, you pout as you take in the comfortability of your shared home. lower back aching, feet sore from standing & eyes pulling shut with exhaustion, itâs a relief to see a freshly awoken jack. heâs getting ready for his shift, tying his scrub pants with his toothbrush in his mouth when he hears you trudge up the steps. âhey babyâ he casually drawls, brushing his teeth and almost not paying attention. almost.
he notices you donât answer, and is greeted by the sight of you face down in your shared bed instead. youâre slipping quickly as you pout, âhi daddy, missed you.â âmissed me?â âyeahâ âyeah? you know daddy loves you? hm?â
you nod sleepily, eyes falling shut when he brings his hand up to scratch at your hair. âtake a nap for me, honeyâ âoh no jackie i canât, i have so much to d-â âwasnât asking baby, câmon, doctorâs ordersâ lifting you up by your armpits, unclasping your bra and sliding off your work clothes until youâre in nothing but a pair of panties.
jack pulls the comforter over you with a soft kiss to your forehead, âgo tâsleep baby, iâll come give you a kiss before i leave. kay?â
falling asleep to the sound of jack getting ready, the steady comfort of knowing heâs there </3
#unc is a hunk
falling for jack abbot (literally)
summary: reader and jack are three months into talking, and they're spending each waking moment with one another. summer has also fallen over pittsburgh and reader desperately wants to decorate her home according to the season. jack tells her to wait for him... but reader has different plans. plans that end in her going to the pitt.
warnings: broken bones. medical inaccuracies (i spent so long reading journals and watching videos on broken bones). i am no doctor -- far from -- so please don't judge. not edited. pure fluff. sorry bbs.
wc: 6.2k
a/n: this can be read by itself, or as a part 3 to roadblock. part 2 here . seashell divider by @ // bbyg4rlhelps
Jack trails behind you through the flea market like a duckling: waddling with arms full of bags he can barely keep balanced. Youâve asked him more than once if heâs okay or ready to leave, but each time he just shakes his head and urges you to keep browsing.
You werenât supposed to be here for so long. Your only mission was to find a few summer decorations for your house, which you completed less than an hour into your outing. But right as you were heading back to the entrance, you came across a stand with the cutest clothing. Then, right after that stand, you came across another that held a million decorations you deemed perfect for Jackâs apartment.Â
Every time you left a stand and affirmed that you were done, youâd come across another person selling random things you donât need, but desperately want.Â
This extended your trip by three hours.Â
i need him so bad it's not funny anymore

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a date and a list | j.a.
summary: reader has recently lost her virginity to jack abbot! and now, they're going on their first date. thankfully, it goes well and they end up having a bit more fun... which they start by fulfilling the first thing on reader's checklist.
warnings: p in v. unprotected s*x. blowie. briefest mention of sewerc*de. not edited. ooc jack.
wc: 5.5k
a/n: i want to create a pinterest board for reader's cute little house along with the vibes for this story (which seems to now be ongoing). i will link it on this one and roadblock :) also, reminder that this is a more fast paced relationship.
this is a part 2 to roadblock | pinterest board | part 3 here
Itâs almost your first serious date with Jack since he took your virginity, and despite sharing a multitude of intimate moments, youâre still overly nervous.Â
A couple of minutes ago, you decided to sit on your porch swing to beat the heat that swarmed you while getting ready. Thankfully, itâs still early enough in the Spring season that it isnât smoldering outside â brisk enough from the fading Winter â so you rock back and forth, only stopping occasionally to fix the white knee-high socks that keep riding down your calf.Â
Jack told you to dress casually, but you didnât completely know what he meant by that. Did he mean jeans and a t-shirt? Or was it business-casual? Though youâre sure if it were, heâd have phrased it that way. Because of your confusion and desire for validation, you sent him a text this morning that read, âDefine dressing casually for me, please?âÂ
He didnât reply with words, but emojis. A tree, a flower bouquet, a few insects.Â
You didnât know what to say to that.
You then texted back, âWhat does that mean?âÂ
Jack replied, âDressy casual.âÂ
You werenât quite sure of the correlation between the emojis and dressy casual, but you didnât ask further questions. You just stuck to looking through your closet for something good, something perfect that would match the description.Â
After nearly an hour, you landed on a forest-green gingham dress that was slightly form-fitting with a pair of knee-high tan boots. Youâre also holding onto an oversized jean jacket in case it gets too brisk later in the night. You asked nearly half of your contacts if that outfit was okay, or if youâd be left on the curb for not being dressy enough. Everyone said you were perfectly fine and looked beautiful in it.Â
You brushed off any insecure thoughts once you slipped on the dress and got yourself ready. Now youâre sitting outside, rubbing your sweaty palms on your dress while pulling it down ever so often. You do this all while thinking about what Jack will look like: in another one of his Henleys, maybe forest green like the color of your dress, or something less ready-for-bed or yardwork and more professional, like a button-down.Â
Before you think of any more possibilities, a black Jeep pulls up to your house.Â
You gently hop off the swing and stand by the large white pillar before your steps. Jack gets out of his car, donning a cream pull-over with a white shirt collar peeking out, a pair of dark blue jeans, and dark brown leather boots.Â
He also carries a beautifully wrapped flower bouquet.Â
âIâm going to cry before you hand them to me,â you tell him with a quivering lip.Â
âPlease, don't,â he chuckles as he meets you on the last porch step.Â
You take them into your hands and stare at the combination of pink roses, baby's breath, peonies, and a few more flowers you canât name off the top of your head. They look beautiful wrapped in brown paper and tied with a white bow.Â
âThese are beautiful,â you tell him as you bring them up to your nose and take a whiff. You look at his face, which is turning a light shade of red, and canât help but copy his lopsided smile. âCan I give a kiss as a thank you?âÂ
He nods. âOf course you can.âÂ
You lean in and kiss his smooth lips. A little peck, nothing extreme. But it feels romantic. âDo you want to come in for a second while I put them in some water?â you ask. âOr will we be late?âÂ
âWe wonât be late. I can come in.âÂ
You grab his hand and pull him up the stairs and into your house. You canât see him, but Jack is behind you, looking at the old paintings and pictures on the walls, the vibrant runner rug that leads to the living room, and eventually, the quilted chair cushions that adorn the wooden seats of your kitchen table.Â
Your house is cozy, and in a way, does feel like an antique shop, as you mentioned. But itâs cozy and lived in, which is nothing like Jackâs apartment.Â
You enter your kitchen and pull a vase from under your sink. You steady it beneath the tap and fill it enough so that the paper wonât be ruined once you put it in. Jack is leaning against the stove as you do this, just watching you and looking at the fridge beside you that is full of magnets, photos, and a small collection of bottle cap openers.Â
âYour house shows a lot about you,â he says as you place your flowers beside your coffee machine.Â
You back up to stand right beside him and try to follow his eyes. They first look at the sheer lacy curtains that cover your window, the small succulents sitting on the windowsill, and the cute aprons that hang on your open pantry door. He looks at the mugs hanging from beneath your cabinet, thanks to one of your dad's late-night inventions.Â
âYou really do love things that are loved,â he tells you.Â
Heâs gathered that from the last time you spent the night at his place, which so happened to be the night he took your virginity. That night, you told him how you collect so many things for your house, but youâre not a hoarder. You change out paintings, decorations, quilts, and such every season. Even if no one but your editor, best friend, and parents visit every so often, you like to make sure your home is cohesive â and fun. You also like to decorate your home with well-loved things because to you, the love the past owner attached to it seems to burst into your home.Â
You canât read Jackâs mind, but to him, itâs the most beautiful thing ever.Â
âI like my place to look like someoneâs grandma lives here,â you tell him. âI hope you can see it.âÂ
He snorts as he leaves you in the kitchen and floats around the dining and living room. Your dining room table has a lace runner that matches the curtains, a porcelain napkin holder in the shape of a flower, and a stack of old crosswords that sit at the end, right where you have breakfast.Â
âIâll have to spend more time here⌠grandma.âÂ
You run up to him and swat his shoulder. âHey! Youâre the old one here.âÂ
Jack turns around and grabs your waist, digging his fingers into your sides and trying to tickle you. Youâre squirming as he adds, âWill you make me some cookies with milk before bed?âÂ
âI thought about it!â you manage to say before overtaking him and pushing him against your China cabinet. You place your hands on either side of his body and close him in. âNow I wonât, though, because youâre making fun of me.âÂ
Jack lowers his face and places a chaste kiss on your lips. âI take it back,â he whispers. âIâm sorry. Can I still take you out on a date?âÂ
âSure. I still need to figure out what you mean by those emojis.âÂ
What Jack meant with his emojis was that youâd be having dinner in the middle of a garden.Â
The sun has gone down already, but the lightposts are on, and there are dim lights everywhere, including around the pond beneath the bridge â a bridge that holds a white table and two chairs, stuck in the cobblestone. The closer you get, the more youâre able to notice the wicker basket and two wine glasses sit in the middle.Â
You donât really know what to think, just that this is extremely romantic, and you donât know if your heart can take it. Â
âYouâre a romantic,â you whisper to Jack as you walk up to the table. Jack pulls your chair back, and you take a seat. You canât really be pushed in, but you hop as he shoves the chair.Â
âI try,â he tells you once he takes his own seat. âI had to try extra hard to please the hopeless romantic sitting across from me.âÂ
You laugh. âI am very pleased,â you tell him. âIâm quite amazed, really. How did you even get access to this place?âÂ
âI treated a patient a while ago who came in after an incident between him and a bush trimmer. He was working on trimming some of the bushes here, but slipped with the machine and almost lost a finger. I was the one who took care of him, and he told me that if I ever needed anything, to call him. He left me his contact information, but I never thought I would need it. That was until I met you.â Â
You fight the blush spreading to your cheeks. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and all you can think about is reaching over and peppering his face with kisses. That, or bawl into your hands because of how sweet heâs been to you since you met.Â
You still arenât sure if this is real: the instant connection you share with Jack, and how nice the past week has been from simply talking to him and meeting him at the park for a quick chat before he goes off to work. You donât question if you deserve it, because you know you do, but itâs shocking. How can someone this amazing enter your life and how long until you have to become wary of it?Â
âItâs the nicest date Iâve ever been on, and itâs only just started,â you say.Â
âYouâre saying this before I open the basket.âÂ
âOh no⌠Whatâs in it? Did you try to make food?âÂ
He rolls his eyes and opens up the basket. He digs in and takes out a basket of fries alongside a plate of burgers.Â
You gasp and cover your mouth. Thereâs got to be a good dozen burgers on that plate. âJack!â you exclaim. âAre we supposed to eat all of these burgers?âÂ
He shrugs. âI wasnât sure if you were vegan or not; if you eat beef or like chicken more, so I just bought a bunch for you to choose from.âÂ
âI wouldâve had anything,â you say, your chuckle still pronounced in your words.Â
âWe havenât reached the vegan-vegetarian or meat-eater conversation so I thought that more options would avoid a potential starving date situation,â he continues as he takes out the bottle of wine and uscrews it. âAre you vegan, or vegetarian, or pescatarian⌠or any other lifestyle option?âÂ
âMeat-eater,â you tell him. You grab a plain burger sitting at the top of the mountain and place it on your plate beside your knife and fork. You unwrap your burger and take a whiff before stuffing it in your mouth. You hadnât eaten anything while getting ready, and the scent is making your stomach rumble. You take a bite and chew thoroughly before saying, âI did watch a Criminal Minds episode a long time ago though that made me not eat pork for a very long time. I eat it occasionally, but I avoid it as best as I can.âÂ
Jack places the wicker basket beside his feet and grabs a cheeseburger off the stack. âWhat was it about?â he asks.Â
âThere was this serial killer with a pig farm that would kill people and feed them to his pigs. It was actually based on a true story,â you say. You try to take another bite, but set it down and opt for the wine instead. The reminder of that episode is not doing your stomach any favors.Â
Jack wrinkles his nose. âValid reason, thatâs terrifying. And you finished the entire show?â Â
âItâs a good show.â You reach over and grab a few fries, immediately forgetting about the foul serial killer story when you look at Jack, who is entranced by you. Or your appearance. Or maybe the story. It doesnât really matter, because the expression on his face â glimmering eyes that follow your mouth as it moves, like heâs hypnotized â is all you can think about. âHave you watched any shows lately?âÂ
He takes a bite of his burger as you throw a fry into your mouth. He hums a âno.â âIâm not much of a show guy,â he tells you. âI do really like Crazy, Stupid, Love. I watch it religiously. Do you know that movie?âÂ
You scoff. âOf course I know that movie! Itâs one of the funniest rom-comâs ever.âÂ
âAnything Steve Carell is in, I am immediately watching,â he tells you, taking another bite of his burger.Â
âThat makes sense.âÂ
He pockets his bite in his cheek and asks, âWhat does that mean?â in an offended tone.Â
âNothing,â you say, chuckling. âWho doesnât love Steve Carell?âÂ
âDumb people,â he says.Â
You nod. âDumb people.âÂ
You pick up your burger and keep taking bites out of it. Itâs nearly silent between you two as you devour the fast-food sitting in front of you, only the sound of running water and insects chirping filling the gap. Itâs not awkward, though, just comfortable.Â
After you finish off a good chunk of fries and half a glass of wine, Jack cuts the silence. âI read your first book.âÂ
You jerk your head forward in surprise. âYou read my book?â you ask, voice firm and enunciating each repeated word.Â
âYeah.â He shrugs and throws a fry in his mouth.Â
âItâs a young adult novel.âÂ
âYeahâŚâÂ
âAbout two young girls who fall in love through high school and one commits suicide in the end.âÂ
âYeah,â he repeats for the third time.
âAnd you liked it?âÂ
âI really liked it. Young adult novels arenât usually my cup of tea, but youâre a really good writer,â he says. âI rate it four and a half stars. Minus one half because I really liked the character you killed off.âÂ
âSorry,â you say with a loose smile youâre trying to repress. âIt wasnât the best written story and I could have done ten times better with the storylines, but I really appreciate your comment.âÂ
âIs that how you reply to The New York Times Best-Sellers board?â he asks. âHey, this was bad and it doesnât get to be number one in the Young Adult category, but thanks.âÂ
âMaybe,â you laugh.Â
You sip on your nearly empty wine glass and shake your head as you think about how your book used to be on that list. For a long time, too. Deep down you know youâre a good writer. People know you, love your work, buy them in hardcover formats and create a special place on their bookshelf to remind themselves of what theyâve read â youâve seen it on social media in mentions and hashtags. You just canât fully grasp the idea that people love your work. But maybe thatâs because youâve always been your most brutal critic.Â
âI hate talking about myself on dates, but I canât believe Iâve been on that list before,â you tell Jack. You push your plate aside and lean your elbows on the table, pushing your body forward so you can be as close as you can to him. âItâs nice to think about every now and then.âÂ
âI like hearing you talk about yourself,â Jack tells you. âAnd even though I am someone who hasnât known you for very long, I am proud of you; and surprised you can keep such low profile considering how many people love your books. Especially the one you dislike so much.âÂ
âThank you very much, Jack. Youâre really sweet. And to answer your question, I donât know, actually, but Iâm grateful that I can be left unseen.âÂ
âI hope some big movie producer asks if youâd be in on a movie adaptation,â Jack tells you while pouring a bit more wine into your glass. âI would watch it over and over again.âÂ
âWell then I hope someones asks in the near future.âÂ
Jack lets the conversation about your work fade into the background for now by pushing the pile of burgers over to you. âHave you tried the cheeseburger? Or will you be boring and stick to plain?âÂ
Your mouth falls open and you let out a gasp. âSo first I was a grandma, and now Iâm boring because I donât want to eat a cheeseburger.âÂ
âIâm just saying that it looks sad without the cheese,â he tells you, his voice high-pitched and whiny.Â
âThen why did you buy plain burgers?â
âMy apologies for taking your health into consideration. What if you were lactose intolerant?â he asks. â I also wanted to make sure you were pleased.âÂ
âI would have just lived with the consequences. That wouldnât even be a thought because my date consists of sitting in front of a very sexy, very sweet man, who went above and beyond for a first date.âÂ
Jack has on a facial expression that matches the tone of his voice. His eyebrows are drawn in, his mouth is downturned into a frown, though youâre certain he isnât truly upset. He looks whiny, and you canât help but lick your lips at how good he looks this way.Â
âItâs just a picnic on a bit of steroids,â he mumbles.Â
You want to climb over the table and kiss the pout away. Youâd like to sit on his lap and brush the lines on his forehead that threaten to form into deep wrinkles from the concern he chooses to show. Youâd like to fuck him to rid whatever stress is stuck in his stiff shoulders.
âThis is the nicest date Iâve been on,â you say. âAnd I am very pleased. Iâd be even more pleased if I got to kiss you.âÂ
Jack perks up and scoots further in, his chest brushing harshly against the metal table. âYou can kiss me as much as you want.âÂ
You lean over the table and gently kiss him. Itâs soft and through the food youâve just had, you can taste the wine coating your tongues. You lift your hand and rest it on his jaw, feeling the stubble poking your palm.Â
You kiss him again, softly like the first but threatening to cross into needy territory.Â
Then you give him another kiss, this time with your tongue prodding at his.Â
âYouâre so pretty,â Jack whispers seductively. âAnd you taste like burgers.âÂ
You push him off and snort. Itâs a wicked laugh, coming from the depths of your belly. You cross your arms over your chest then point a sharp finger at him. âThatâs mean. Youâre a mean old man.âÂ
Jack pouts again and groans. âYet youâre still here.âÂ
âIâm about to leave, actually.âÂ
He reaches over the table for your hand and settles on the tips of your fingers. âDonât, please. Come here.âÂ
You give him a stern look, your eyes squinted and sharp, your lips wobbling to shake the immediate âyesâ you want to give him. You wait a gruesome five seconds before standing and walking over to him.Â
He scoots his chair back and pats his lap. You donât straddle him, but sit sideways with your hands hugging the back of his neck and broad shoulders. Jack wraps an arm around your top, his fingers brushing against your ribs. Another hand settles on your waist but ends up straying down to your ass.Â
His body is warm, as it always is, and itâs radiating a smell of grass and cedar trees. You lean your head down and kiss his cheek, then nose, then you give special attention to his bottom lip.Â
âI really need you,â he mumbles against your mouth.
You shush him with your tongue coating both his lips. âI need you, too,â you tell him. Then you ask,âDo you want to have sex tonight?âÂ
Jack squeezes the skin right below your ass and tries to grope your tits through your dress, though he fails because of the thick fabric. âYes,â he breathes harshly. âWhatever you want to do, I want to do.âÂ
âDo you want to finish the burgers?â you ask through a series of wet kisses.Â
âFuck the burgers.âÂ
A horny Jack Abbot lingers by your kitchen holding a wicker basket, and a palm flat against his growing boner. Youâre not sure if heâs trying to hide it, or if heâs impatient and needs some relief.Â
âYou can set the basket on the table. Or in the fridge. Itâs nearly empty so itâll fit,â you tell him as you pour water into two tall glasses.Â
Jack walks to the refrigerator with a groan and sets the basket neatly onto the first shelf. âYou can keep them if you want.âÂ
âThatâs a lot of burgers. Weâll have to throw them out.âÂ
You hand him a glass and he takes it, silently thanking you with a dip of his head. âIâll eat them donât worry.âÂ
âOkay then, we can split them before they go bad. But for now, you need to sit down. Iâve been noticing your little groans and facial expressions every time you walk.âÂ
âIâm fine,â he tells you, holding up a hand to stop you from pulling a chair for him. âWe can just go to your room, and Iâll take off the leg.âÂ
You nod and grab his hand, leading you down the hall to your bedroom. You brush past the beaded curtain and lead him to the edge of your bed, where he grunts as he lowers himself down. He lifts up his pant leg and pulls off the prosthetic. You take it from him and find a spot for it beside your bedside table.Â
âHow long can you wear your prosthetic until it gets uncomfortable?â you ask.Â
âI can last a shift, but between the eight to ten mark it gets a bit painful,â he answers while he removes the sock from his stump. âSometimes a shift is really stressful and I put the leg on too early the next day, and I can only wear it for a few hours before it gets really uncomfortable.âÂ
You kick off your boots and grab an unscented lotion sitting on your dresser. You walk over to the bed and kneel in front of him, taking his leg in your hands to observe the redness coating his stub. âWas today one of those days?âÂ
âUnfortunately,â he mumbles.Â
âWould it be better if you just took off your pants? I can give you a bit of a massage to help.âÂ
He nods and starts unbuckling his pants. You reach up and help him unzip them and drag them down his legs. You neatly fold them once theyâre off and set them on your nightstand. Then you pump some lotion into your hands and run them over his swollen stub.Â
âIâm sorry that you have to deal with this,â you tell him. âI know talking about it might not be easy, so we can talk about it another day if you want.âÂ
âAnother day,â he whispers.Â
You donât ask further questions about how he lost his leg. All you know is that he lost it while serving as a combat medic; something you learned through a late night phone call.Â
âThank you for doing this. It feels better already.âÂ
You smooth your hands over his leg one more time before running them up his thighs. âYou took me on a great date, this is the least I could do.âÂ
Jack looks down at you, on your knees in front of him, and it feels like all the blood in his body is swarming to his cock. You look beyond beautiful, and he canât help but think about how youâd look with your hair in his fist again, and his cock deep in your mouth.Â
A couple nights ago when he fucked you, you mentioned a checklist. It was a joke, but Jack was curious about everything on it. You mentioned a blow job, double penetration, and later on in the night, letting him treat you like a ragdoll. Everything sounded fun to him, but Jack was currently desperate for the first thing on the list.Â
âDo you remember when you asked to suck my dick?â he asks.Â
You bite down on your lip. You move your hands further up his thighs and gently touch his hard cock. âYeah. Do you want that right now?âÂ
Jack nods. âYou just look so good on your knees. And youâre already taking such good care of me,â he cries.Â
You hook your fingers into the band of his boxer briefs and whisper, âLift your hips.â He does as you ask and you take them off, tossing them off to the side.Â
You lower your lips to his bare thighs and kiss your way up to his cock, which is hard against his stomach, red and leaking precum.Â
You leave a quick kiss to his balls and lick along his shaft. He chokes on a moan and leans his head back to catch a breath. âIâm already a mess,â he tells you. âI donât think I can have you treat me like this and last more than a minute.âÂ
You smile at his state. Heâs trembling like he might come, and his hands keep fisting your bedsheets.Â
âJust enjoy it while you last,â you chuckle and lick at the precum still dribbling out of his cock. âIâll take care of you.âÂ
âHave you done this before?âÂ
âNo. But Iâve done it in my dreams,â you answer.Â
âYouâre already doing really well.âÂ
You smile again. Then you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and wrap your mouth around his tip. You suck on the tip before circling it with your tongue and taking him further into your mouth.Â
Sucking off Jack has you wetter than you expected. The thought of doing so already had you wet and needy two days ago â when you masturbated to the idea of him face-fucking you â but now, youâre a damn fountain again. Your panties are soaked and as you pump the base of his cock while you jerk your head up and down along his shaft, you move your feet around so your heel is rubbing against your clothed cunt.Â
Jack is a mess above you. Heâs whining and crying your name along a series of âyes,â and âdeeper, please.â He canât fist the bedsheets anymore, so he grips onto your hair and pushes your head down.Â
You move your hands to his balls and moan loudly against him. He follows right behind you, as the vibrations have him teetering on the edge of his orgasm.Â
âYouâre so good,â he cries out. âStop moving and let me fuck your mouth, please.âÂ
You nod, and give his balls another tug and squeeze before digging your nails into his fatty thighs.Â
Jack grabs your head and pushes you further into his cock. You write beneath him and try to grind onto your heel, though it gets a bit difficult. You gag a bit as he hits the back of your throat, and it has him coming, hot spurts of cum filling your mouth. Â
You donât care for the taste, in the sense that it tastes mild, a bit salty, but nothing disgusting. You swallow, even though Jack doesnât ask you to.Â
Jack pulls your head back and smiles at your fucked face. He enjoys the way tears stream down the corners of your eyes, and how the mascara that was once coating your eyelashes is now staining the skin beneath your eyes.Â
âYou look so pretty like this,â he tells you, his thumb rubbing your chin coated in spit and the cum that made itâs way out of your lips. âIâve been thinking about this since you asked to suck my dick. I couldnât stop thinking about your pretty lips on my cock. I had to fuck myself a few times to get it out of my system.âÂ
You sit up on your knees and inch closer to his face. âMe tooâŚâÂ
âOh really?â he chuckles. He kisses your mouth and paws at your torso. âYou fucked your pretty little pussy while you thought about my dick in your mouth?âÂ
You nod.Â
âYou did a good job, baby girl.âÂ
You blush. âThank you. Just ask whenever you want one. In the car⌠on a date⌠anywhere.âÂ
Jack keeps touching you everywhere, silently asking you to stand up. When you do, his hands go beneath your dress and tug at your panties.Â
âAnywhere?â he asks.Â
You wrap your hands around his shoulders and bob your head in agreement. âAnywhere.âÂ
Jack pulls your panties down your legs and you step back to take them off all the way. You kick them off and while youâre at it, pull the zipper of your dress and take it off as well.Â
âI want to see you while we have sex, is that okay?âÂ
He nods and watches as you pull off your socks and crawl into bed.Â
You rest your head on your pillow and tug a shirtless Jack. He moves over to you and lowers his face to kiss you. âI donât have a condom. I forgot them.âÂ
âJust donât come in me, Jack. And Iâll take a Plan B tomorrow, donât worry about it.âÂ
âYou sure?â he asks.Â
âSeriously. I am very sure.âÂ
Jack strokes his still very red, very hard cock for a few moments, his eyes drilling into yours to make sure youâre being serious. âOkay,â he whispers, and kisses you again. Then he grabs one of your legs, sinks down into the mattress, and rubs his cock along your cunt.
Jack slaps your clit with his tip before dragging it down to your dripping hole. He pushes his cock inside of you and you silence yourself by biting your lip and clawing at his shoulders.Â
âDeeper,â you beg. âGo as deep as you can, I need to feel every inch of you.âÂ
Jack doesnât say yes, just pushes further in and moans beside your ear.Â
You pull him closer to you and hug him while he thrusts into you. You pepper his jaw with kisses and whisper, âLook at me, kiss me,â because you desire that intimacy more than anything in the world right now.Â
Jack turns and lets your lips kiss his open mouth. Itâs messy â tongues pulling one another in while moans bounce off lips â but itâs amazing anyway. He bites your bottom lip when you moan at the way heâs pushing deeper into you. Your legs are fully wrapped around him, feet spurring his ass to keep going. Your arms are also drapped over his back, switching between scratching his freckled skin, digging your nails into his shoulders, and rubbing the pain away.Â
Jack is slow with his movements. Heâs going further inside of you, but he isnât ramming into you like he has before.Â
âIâm close,â he whispers into your mouth.Â
âAre you?â you ask. âRemember not to come in me.âÂ
âIâll come all over your stomach, is that okay?âÂ
You nod and bring his lips back to yours.Â
Jack pulls you down the bed and grabs your heartshaped headboard. He thrusts harder now, but keeps the same slow rhythm.Â
You grind your hips as he keeps fucking you, and soon enough, between explicit words and whines, you come on his cock.Â
Youâre rocking against him as Jack slowly murmurs, âOh fuck, Iâm gonna come.â He then pulls out and comes over your stomach with his hand quickly pumping his shaft.Â
You lift your head and look at the hot spurts of cum painting your abdomen and tits. âOh myâŚâ you chuckle. âHow much cum can you carry in there?âÂ
âA lot, I guess,â Jack pants out. âIâm sorry. Let me clean you up. And then we can eat some burgers.âÂ
âMhmm,â you groan while you scoot off the bed. âYou take me to dinner in a garden, we have sex, and we get to eat burgers after? This might be the best night of my life.âÂ
Cute bonus stuff:Â
Jack wasnât supposed to spend the night, but he did so anyway. You felt kinda bad, because you only had some of your dads old clothes and no crutches.Â
So before he woke up, you snuck out and bought him a pair.Â
When you got back, he was sitting at your kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle with his readers on and a burger in his hand.
âIf you keep eating these burgers, you might become one,â you told him.Â
âTheyâre good! And I wasnât sure what to touch in the fridge.â You entered the room with the crutches in your hand and set them in front of him. He looked at them, then at you with a puzzled expression. âWhat is this for?âÂ
âI wanted you to be more comfortable,â you told him. âAnd ⌠I know this is really early, but I want you to keep coming over. And if you say yes, I donât want you to be uncomfortable.âÂ
Jack offered you one of his crooked smiles. âIâm saying yes,â he told you, and patted the crutches. âThank you, baby girl.âÂ
âYou are very welcome. Now let me make you a real breakfast.âÂ
Jack let you make him a balanced breakfast. While you guys were eating, you both filled out a crossword puzzle while sipping on coffee.Â
roadblock | j.a. Â
summary: reader is an author who has recently begun writing a book with sexual content. she's experiencing a bit of a roadblock because, well... she's a twenty-five-year-old virgin. she doesn't know what to do, until hot and sweet jack abbot comes up to her in her beloved coffee shop-slash-office.
warnings: ooc jack. a lot of sex. hair pulling. choking/throat stuff (?). double penetration. nipple play. finger sucking. cockwarming. age gap (reader is mid twenties, jack is mid forties). not edited
wc: 6.5k
a/n: sorry to the agent on my phone. i had to do so much freaky research to figure stuff out and i was ashamed.
part 2 to roadblock here | pinterest board
Writing about sex with little experience feels foolish. It doesnât matter how many erotic books youâve read, or how many romance films youâve diligently watched to figure out how sex is supposed to happen. You still find yourself riddled by the process because all youâve done in your twenty-five years of life is have foul make-out sessions and clitoral stimulation.Â
Your readers have yet to call you out on the sex scenes in your books. No one thinks theyâre strange, but that might be thanks to your best friends and editor. If something sounds off, theyâll let you know.Â
Youâre currently writing a young adult romance between a college student and her TA, and have hit a roadblock as you write them having sex for the first time. The character, Lara, is both shy and a virgin. You decided sheâd enter sex slowly, opting for grinding, humping, and sloppy make-out sessions before ripping her TA Adrianâs shirt off.Â
Youâve gotten past the making out, but youâre unsure of where to go next. How much do you feel when youâre grinding on someone? Should she be wearing the dress you initially put her in, or jeans?Â
Your head is starting to throb, so you decide to call the day quits. Right as you go to slam your laptop, a man appears in front of your table, blocking the sunlight from shining onto you.Â
âI can feel your headache from the counter,â he says.Â
The voice is sexy. It feels tired, but extremely hot. When you look up at him, heâs just as sexy, if not more. Heat climbs up your chest and takes over your face. Men who look like him donât usually come up to you.Â
âIâm writing a novel, and Iâve hit a plateau,â you tell him as you scratch off the sweat forming on your forehead.Â
âWhatâre you writing about?âÂ
You chuckle and start rubbing your neck. âItâs embarrassing to share.âÂ
He shrugs. âCanât be,â he says and then points at the chair pressed into his crotch. âCan I sit while you tell me?âÂ
You nod. âGo ahead,â you say, then he slides in and motions for you to keep speaking. âItâs a young adult novel about a senior in college who falls in love with her TA.âÂ
âThat sounds fun,â he says with a smile creeping onto his lips. âHow did you come up with that?âÂ
Itâs your turn to shrug. âI used to have a crush on my TA.âÂ
He laughs. âDo you use a lot of experienced scenarios for your books?âÂ
âSometimes,â you tell him. He nods. You donât share any words for a moment, only a stare so intense your sweat starts coating your upper lip. You have to wipe your mouth and jaw with the back of your cardigan and force yourself to speak to try to cool yourself down. âCan I tell you whatâs making everyone feel my headache from afar? You just have to promise not to be creeped out.âÂ
âSure.âÂ
âThis is weird to confess to a stranger, but youâre a stranger⌠so it wonât matter. Maybe,â you ramble. âIâm at the first sex scene, and I canât figure out how to write it.âÂ
Itâs fascinating how surprise doesnât coat the man's face. He just nods and relaxes his previously tense shoulders. âDoes that usually happen?âÂ
You scoff. âIs it ridiculous to say yes?âÂ
âWhy would that be ridiculous?âÂ
âRegular people donât struggle doing it.âÂ
âWhatâs âitâ here?â the man asks with a smirk audible in his words.Â
You choke on your saliva and have to cover your red, hot face. ââItâ as in writing sex scenes. But maybe doing the act, too.âÂ
You donât know why youâre telling him this. You donât usually talk about sex with people â outside of writing, it feels taboo. You donât engage in conversation with random people, even if they are attractive. Hell, especially if theyâre attractive.Â
He laughs and scoots his chair closer to the table. Closer to you, it feels like.Â
âIâm Jack, by the way,â he says and slides his hand over the table.Â
You shake his hand and tell him your name. It comes out loud. Or maybe you said it in a normal volume, but your brain is scrambled, and youâre unable to hear yourself.Â
âSorry for telling you all of this. I know itâs strange, but I needed to get it off my chest. Itâs also been a long day, and the countless coffees Iâve had havenât done anything.âÂ
âIâm not bothered,â he says. âItâs cool to see the writing process in real time.âÂ
âIt can be exciting. If I were in my zone, Iâm sure youâd be able to hear my keyboard clacking from the counter, too.âÂ
âIâd like to see that.âÂ
Youâre sure your heart does a back flip. Youâre also certain your thighs just clenched together.Â
âWell, when I get over this bump in the road, you will. Iâm here every other weekday from ten to two. I hate my office, and this shop is quiet enough most of the day to let me write. Youâre more than welcome to sit and chat with me⌠or stare.âÂ
He bites down on his lip and nibbles on it before placing all of his upper body weight on the table. He leans forward, thick arms slightly draping over your laptop, and whispers, âWhy are you struggling so much? Is it because youâre not âŚâ He scrunches his nose, like whatever heâs going to say might shove a knife into your chest. âAre you not good in bed?âÂ
Your eyes go wide, and you stifle an awkward laugh. It borders on a fit of laughter, and you have to reel yourself in. âWell! I wouldnât know,â you tell him as you cut yourself off. âIâm a virgin.âÂ
âOh,â he pops. âOkay. That makes sense.âÂ
âIt does.âÂ
âSorry for asking.âÂ
You shake your head and place a hand over his arm. You want to squeeze, but decide to rub over his black Henley.Â
âItâs a valid question,â you say, trying to soothe the mind you can already sense is going insane.Â
âI can help,â he shoots out.Â
âWhat?â you respond almost immediately.Â
âI can help you with your⌠roadblock.âÂ
âIs it weird that I want to say yes?âÂ
âGod no,â he scoffs out. âThis entire interaction has been a bit weird. The weirdest thing you could do is say no.âÂ
âThen yes.âÂ
You tell your friends youâre going on a date even if it isnât exactly one. Itâs easier than telling them youâre going to lose your virginity to a man youâve only met at a coffee shop.Â
To be fair, your conversation dragged on for hours after you exchanged numbers and settled on an evening. It was fun, and it didnât feel forced. You could joke back and forth and spill your unnecessary stress regarding your projects without feeling nauseous about it. So if you think about it, that was your first date.Â
Even if your conversation was sweet and your text messages havenât lost rhythm, your hands tremble as you knock on his door.Â
You immediately hide your hands behind your back and roll on the balls of your feet. You feel like a kid, strangely, and the mere thought of it has you reevaluating your stance.Â
You donât have any time to fix yourself up, though, because Jack is immediately opening the door. Itâs almost like he was waiting beside it.Â
When he fully opens the heavy black door, itâs like someone has punched the air out of your lungs. He looks better than he did when you met him, if thatâs possible. His hair looks grayer, somehow, and shiny, like he mixed a dollop of gel with water and hovered his fingers over the tips of his curls. He has another Henley on, but itâs white this time, and dark-wash jeans that look incredibly loved.Â
You nod to get the rest of your body working. âHi,â you say â or squeak.Â
He nods back with a crooked smile before looking you over. âHi. You look great.âÂ
You shrug. Youâre wearing a black camisole with your special lacy maroon bra peeking out of the hem. Then just a pair of jeans. Nothing special, but you take the compliment anyway. âThank you, Jack.â You point at his shirt â the one he probably has loads of. âHow many of these do you own?âÂ
âA whole closet full.âÂ
You chuckle. âI figured. They look good, though. Hopefully, next time itâs a forest green?âÂ
âThereâs already a next time? What if the sex is bad?âÂ
âAccording to all the blogs Iâve read, you can work on sex if it is.âÂ
He nods with a mischievous smile, then jolts out of the haze heâs in. He steps aside and motions for you to walk in. âIâm sorry, Iâve kept you out here long enough. Come in, make yourself at home.âÂ
You slither past him and take a look at his overly large bachelor pad. Calling this an apartment feels wrong because itâs far bigger than whatever you call a house. Your house is small, old, and has low ceilings. It also has a faint smell that verifies its age.Â
âDo you ever get lonely here? Sorry if thatâs invasive, but itâs so big. AndâŚâ You step into the living room, a place with no photos or artifacts on the dark wood table. âBare.âÂ
âSometimes,â he says, his voice louder. âIâm always at work, so I donât really care. Does your place look like this?âÂ
You shake your head. âIt looks like an antique store. Iâve filled it with so much since I moved in two years ago.âÂ
âHow do you plan on moving it all out in the future?âÂ
âI havenât thought about it,â you tell him as you step into the kitchen off to the side of the living room. Itâs bare, minus a few appliances on the stove and clean dishes sitting on a rack. âI live in the house I grew up in and donât plan on moving out anytime soon. My parents moved away to the middle of nowhere when they turned 65. Theyâre the landlords, but Iâm planning on buying the house from them in the future.âÂ
âHow's the rent?âÂ
âGood. Thankfully.âÂ
Jack fills a glass with water and scoots it across the island. âDo you want something stronger?âÂ
You hoped he would ask that. You canât fathom getting any further without a drink in you. âPlease,â you begged. You take a sip of the water to ease the dryness in your throat and watch him step back towards the bar cart he has in the corner of his living room. âWhat do old guys usually have on bar carts?âÂ
He scoffs and shakes his head. âOuch. Iâm not that old,â he hisses. âAnd bourbon, whiskey. Thereâs a bottle of tequila a younger resident gave me during a Christmas party a couple of months ago.âÂ
âIâll take the tequila,â you reply. He sends you a thumbs up and swivels around back to the kitchen island. You watch him grab a glass from the cabinet and set it a few inches away from you. Thereâs silence that fills the room, but you cut it short before it gets nauseating. âSorry, I called you old. Youâre not that old.âÂ
âHm. How old do you think I am?âÂ
âForty.âÂ
âFive,â he corrects. âForty-five.âÂ
âI like my men older,â you say with a smile.Â
He laughs at this and raises a brow. âHow much older?âÂ
âYouâre twenty years older than me. Is that an answer?âÂ
âJesus,â he mutters under his breath in disbelief. âHow have we spoken about everything under the moon but havenât brought up age?âÂ
You shrug. âIs that a problem? Me being much younger than you?âÂ
Jack shakes his head. âI knew you were younger,â he tells you as he now opens his fridge and scrummages around for a liquid that doesnât look green or orange. He takes out a bottle of orange juice and a can of coconut water. âSorry if this sucks⌠Iâm not much of a juice guy.âÂ
âItâs okay. I used to mix alcohol with anything in college. Just pour me up.âÂ
Jack pours enough tequila into the glass to ease the tension in your shoulders. Then he mixes up equal parts orange juice and coconut water. He mixes it with a metal straw, then pushes the glass over with his pointer and middle fingers.Â
You take a sip. Strong and good. You should have been drinking stuff like this instead of an artificial fruit cocktail and half a bottle of tequila at twenty-one.Â
You decide to revert to the conversation you were having before. âI know thereâs a big age difference, but I donât mind. Unless itâs strange for you, then we wonât do anything but enjoy one anotherâs company.âÂ
âI donât care,â he replies immediately. âIt just amazes me how put together you are at that age. I was nothing like you then.âÂ
âI had a lot of mental health issues when I was younger. That, and my parents went through a rough patch at the same time; they were trauma dumping on me any chance they had, but never thought of listening to me. I guess it might have⌠changed me,â you say. âI donât know. Then I started writing and publishing a bunch of deep shit, and people loved it. I earned good money from it and was able to leave my house without relying on anyone.âÂ
âYou matured before you had to, it sounds like,â Jack answers.Â
You nod. âNot too mad about it, though. Itâs led me here, in an older manâs house who doesnât have any decorations up.âÂ
âShut it,â he playfully scolds. âIâll put something up just because of you.âÂ
You look at him and bat your eyelashes. Half intentionally, half not. âGood,â you say with a smile that bleeds into your tone.Â
He grips the counter, and his obnoxiously large biceps strain against his long-sleeved shirt. He lets his body lean against the edge of the counter, using all his might to catch a closer glimpse of the smile pulling at the corners of your eyes. âGood,â he whispers, tone gravelly.Â
You stare deep into his eyes â it almost feels like youâre in a romance film, consumed by your love interest. Youâre trying to find something he isnât saying through the color of his eyes, a tint you canât make out. All that you find is his pupils getting wider and wider until you choose to drop the challenge of figuring out their color.Â
You need him in a way thatâs alarming to anyone. You want to forget about your drink, crawl over the marble island, and rip that sexy Henley off him. Well, not before you kiss him in a way youâve never kissed anyone before.Â
âI think I want to make out with you right now.âÂ
âOh-ho,â he laughs. âYeah?âÂ
You take a big sip of the drink Jack made you and push yourself off the edge. You round the corners of the island to where he stands. You turn your head to the side and study his face: the stubble growing across his chin and jaw with patches clinging onto its melanin; the lips his teeth keep toying with, and how theyâre getting redder by the second; and how his Adam's apple keeps bobbing up and down in either desire, nervousness, or a secret third option.Â
âIâm not usually this bold,â you whisper.Â
âWhy is tonight any different?â You can smell the toothpaste â or peppermint gum â on his breath. It draws you closer to him.Â
You shrug and shuffle closer to his bicep. âYouâre not creepy.âÂ
âIâm not, youâre right,â he replies. The more he drops his voice, the more gravelly it becomes.Â
Jack turns his body with his left hand still gripping the counter like his life depends on it. You walk into his chest and, unlike before, when you had just met him and found gripping his arms too creepy, you bring your fingers up and hug the muscle of his bicep. Your other hand is at your side, sweaty and empty.Â
âCan we move this to your bedroom?âÂ
He nods like a teenage boy experiencing attention for the first time. He lets go of the counter and places his hands on your hips. He pushes you backwards, in the direction of the bedroom, youâre assuming.Â
You try to push your face into his, but the position makes it hard to.Â
Your struggle ends quickly, though, as he pushes you into his chest while he twists the doorknob and opens the bedroom door. You cling to him and grab his face, pulling it down for your lips to meet. Itâs sloppy at first. Your lips are confused about where to sit â the top lip, the bottom lip. Youâre not sure if you should slide your tongue into his mouth yet, or if itâs too soon.Â
You do whatever your mind wants to anyway.Â
Making out is fun, especially when itâs messy but eager. You can taste the peppermint on his tongue as he tries to grapple with yours, which tastes like the alcoholic mixture he made for you a couple of minutes ago.Â
âYou taste so good,â you gasp as you pull your lips away. A trail of saliva ties you both together, and you lick your lips to savor it.Â
âI want to tell you something,â Jack breathes out.Â
You nod. âWhat?âÂ
âSit down first.âÂ
You quickly walk to his bed and sit on the edge. Itâs almost uncomfortable because youâre already wet. âOkay. Now what?âÂ
He pulls up his right pant leg to his knee to reveal a partially amputated leg. âI donât have half a leg.âÂ
âOkay,â you answer. âDoes that stop you from having sex?âÂ
âNoâŚâÂ
âWas that supposed to turn me off?âÂ
âIt usually does.âÂ
âIâm not turned off.âÂ
Jack crosses the few feet from the door to where you sit at the edge of his bed. He just stands there for a moment, looming over you without saying a word. Then he says, âHow do you want to start?âÂ
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, because you really donât know where to start. What you do know, though, is how good his thighs look in his pants.Â
Without thinking, you place your hands on his thighs and run them up to where his hardening cock is. His body twitches, and he releases a low grunt. âI canât stand up while youâre doing this to me.âÂ
âDo you want to sit down?â you ask him as your fingers start toying with his zipper.Â
Jack grabs your hands and carries them in his palms as he decides to sit next to you. You paw at his thighs like an excited puppy as he takes off his prosthetic and sets it against his dresser, eager to play with him â or chew him up as if he were a toy.Â
Your fascination with thighs was never explicit, just a thought in the back of your head that would crawl up to the forefront of your mind when thinking about sex. It was something you read in an erotic book when you were younger. It was never the missionary or multitude of sex positions that every couple would abuse in these novels. It was the grinding on strong, fatty thighs that would bounce if you asked kindly enough.Â
Youâre thinking about it now. The demon in your brain is desperate to crawl out and sit on your shoulder, shouting âRide it, ride it,â into your ear.Â
You place your chin on Jackâs shoulder and hover your lips over his ear. âI want to ride your thigh first, if thatâs okay?â you whisper, then kiss his earlobe.Â
âPlease,â he whines.Â
You stand from the bed and toy with the hem of your camisole. Itâs now occurred to you that you have all your clothes on, and they're entirely too constricting. So, you pull off your camisole and drop it onto the floor beside his prosthetic. Then you fiddle with the button on your pants and slide them down your legs. They sit there for a minute, pooling around your feet without any plans to be stepped out of.Â
âI like your panties,â Jack says.Â
You fight a smile. Theyâre a pair of matching maroon underwear, with a black bow sewn onto the front. Theyâre simple, but thereâs a bit of lace above the cotton material. âI got them on sale,â you reply, even though you shouldâve just said âthank you.âÂ
Jack eyes you down. Itâs an astonished look he gives you. His pupils are blown out like youâre a drug heâs filled his body with, and his lips wonât stop quirking up as he takes in the white stretch marks littering your hips and stomach. Â
âCome here,â he tells you.Â
You step out of your jeans, kick them towards your shirt, then shuffle towards Jack's open legs.Â
His hands grope your ass and the back of your thighs as you step between him. He sinks his nose into your stomach and smells you, hard. You hope he can smell the body oil you coated yourself with after your long shower.Â
Jack leaves wet kisses on your stomach that trail up to the hem of your bra. âTake it off,â he orders.Â
âYou take it off,â you tell him.Â
He playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you closer to his chest. He maneuvers his hands behind you and quickly undoes the bra clasps, hauling the straps down your arms. The quick movements burn your skin, yet his breath and the sudden gust of AC that fills the room hardens your nipples.Â
âPretty,â he mutters to himself. He takes a nipple into his fingers and your breath hitches in your throat. You drop your head to your chest and shut your eyes, trying your hardest not to sound overly aroused at the soft touches. âI need your tit in my mouth. Is that alright?âÂ
âGod, yes,â you plead.Â
Well, there goes your attempt at not sounding overly aroused.Â
Jack wraps his mouth around your tit and sucks on it. His cheeks hollow out as he sucks you up, then deflate when he chooses to circle your nipple with his tongue.Â
Youâve had your boobs and nipples touched and licked before, but itâs never elicited such a reaction from you. Maybe itâs because itâs always been after the foul attempts of fingering you. It felt like compensation for how shit it was, but it ended up leaving you bored and exasperated. This time, though, you could probably get off on it.Â
âI need to sit,â you breathe out when he pinches and twists your left nipple.Â
âNeed me to take anything off?âÂ
You donât really care; you just need some friction. But the way his biceps are straining against his Henley has you itching to feel them under your hot fingers.Â
âTake the shirt off, keep the pants on,â you tell him.Â
âYes, maâam,â he replies.Â
He goes to follow your orders, but you beat him to it. You grab his shirt from his grasp and pull it up and over his body. You throw it off to the side where the rest of your clothes are, and run a hand through his tousled hair. Then you slot one leg between his and one outside of his right leg.Â
âYouâre hot,â you tell him as your fingers ghost over his freckled arms and chest.Â
âWell, thank you,â he replies.Â
âI mean, the shirt made you extremely warm,â you chuckle. âBut yes, you are incredibly sexy.âÂ
Your fingers start roaming his neck, touching the grooves his wrinkles leave beneath his ears. You lower your head down and kiss each one.Â
Jack is intoxicating. Itâs scaring you just a bit. You knew youâd have sex at one point â maybe itâd take longer, but it would happen â but it didn't cross your mind that it would be lost to someone you'd known for less than a week. That thought would have terrified you a couple of days ago, or the young teenage girl who imagined losing it to a long-term boyfriend.Â
Yet, here you are, enjoying it with Jack, who is not a boyfriend, or a friend, but not a stranger, either.Â
Youâre not sure if this is supposed to be a one-and-done situation. As youâre slowly grinding into his thigh â that has your insides going absolutely insane â you canât stop thinking about how long this will last. After youâve orgasmed, which you already feel creeping up on you, will you have to throw your clothes on and leave? Act like this never happened? Send a âthank youâ text and finish your book; treating this as a sex education class for inexperienced adults?Â
Youâre thinking about this too much, and you can feel it between your eyebrows. The little crease that Jack seems to notice, because his thumb is pressed against it, rubbing back and forth gently.Â
âI can feel your headache again,â he says.Â
âSorry,â you mumble and relax your face as best you can.Â
âWhatâs going on? You want to stop?âÂ
You drop your hand to his bulge and give it a soft squeeze. He hisses, and the fingers that carefully slid over your eyes are now squeezing your chin.Â
âDonât ignore the question. Are you okay?âÂ
You nod. âKinda wondering what happens after this.âÂ
âI make you some dinner, maybe?âÂ
You squint, watching him in case he bursts into laughter. âThat it?âÂ
âNo dinner⌠more sex?âÂ
âI mean, like, will I be kicked out? Will we keep texting once this is done?âÂ
âDo you want us to keep talking once this is over?â Jack asks, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.Â
Even if his dick isnât inside of you yet, or his mouth hasnât been coating in your slick, you know you want to keep seeing him. You have a good feeling about him, and you rarely have those with romantic interests.Â
âYeah,â you say.Â
âThen we have dinner, you talk about your work while I try not to fill you in on all the open wounds I see daily. Sounds good to you?âÂ
You kiss the pad of his thumb. âYeah,â you say again.Â
Jack notices the kiss you leave on his finger, and how your tongue is pressed against the front of your mouth at the sight of it. He prods further in, and you wrap your mouth around it. He groans at the tightness. If his dick wasnât already hard, it most certainly is now.Â
He thrusts up, and you have to grab his shoulders to keep yourself upright.Â
âThis just comes naturally to you, huh?â he stutters.Â
You pull his thumb out of your mouth and drag his hand to your throat. âCan I be honest with you?â you ask as you continue driving your clothed pussy against his thigh. Youâre picking up speed, and honestly, itâs working as a truth serum.Â
Jack nods. âOf course,â he pants.Â
You squeeze Jackâs hand, silently begging him to tighten his grasp on your throat. âI think about this often. How Iâd be fucked. Iâm not always in control, but I come faster when I am,â you tell him. âI think about someone choking me or pulling my hair as I fuck myself with my fingers or toys or⌠when I hump my pillow. I think about what I would look like from the back: face squished into the mattress, gasping for air as someone fucks me fast and hard. I think about grinding on someoneâs thigh and leaving a big mess. I think about it all, constantly.âÂ
You stop talking because Jack has tightened his hold on your throat. Heâs bouncing his leg just a little, but he also wonât stop squirming beneath you as you dig your nails into his shoulders. You can feel how wet you are as you move against him, and it keeps you going until you orgasm.Â
You tilt your head back as the sensation shoots through your bones. You feel weak, but you could keep going. Maybe not with Jackâs clothes on, though.Â
âYou are something,â Jack tells you, his hands letting go of your neck and exchanging it with your tits. He massages them, and youâre quick to let out a quiet moan. He chuckles. âYou want to keep going, or are you too tired?âÂ
âIâm not done.âÂ
âWhat position?âÂ
âYou choose.âÂ
âAss up, face down,â he tells you, and pinches your ass for you to get up.Â
You stand up and peel your soaking wet panties off, then crawl onto the mattress. âDo you want me to already ⌠be in position?â you ask him. âOr wait. I donât know how sexy itâll be if I just stay in that position.âÂ
âJust sit,â he tells you.Â
You sit in the middle of the bed, your body propped up by your elbows as you watch Jack take off his jeans, then his boxers. Heâs holding onto his dresser for balance as he does this. You see a pair of crutches to the side, but he isnât using them.Â
You donât know what you were expecting, but maybe it wasnât this. Youâve seen dicks before, but his is nicer than the ones youâve seen. Itâs thick, not too small but not overly big that it becomes worrisome.Â
âCan I suck you off?â you spit out before you can truly process it.Â
âMaybe,â he replies as he digs into his dresser for a condom. You observe him as he rips the packaging and slides the condom over his red, swollen cock. âNot right now, though.âÂ
âAfter dinner?âÂ
âDid you create a sex checklist before you got here? It sounds like it.âÂ
âI thought all guys wanted their dicks sucked?â you said, firing back at what sounds like rejection. âAll the ones Iâve casually dated have.âÂ
Jack strokes himself as he makes his way to the bed, holding onto the furniture to get back to you. You watch as he grabs a pillow and places it at the edge of the bed, a few inches away from your feet.Â
You knew nothing about having sex with someone who has a below-the-knee amputated leg before. You still donât know anything. Jack might be saying yes to whatever you want to do, but is it comfortable for him?Â
âYou know, we donât have to do this position if itâs uncomfortable for you,â you tell him.Â
He grunts and shakes his head. He rests his clothed stub on the pillow and pulls you toward him by your feet. âI requested this. I just need a bit of cushion for comfort, thatâs all.âÂ
âIf you feel uncomfortable at one point, let me know, okay?âÂ
He nods. âNow ass up, face down,â he tells you.Â
You turn around, lift your ass into the air, and press your face into his mattress. He pulls you closer as he positions himself correctly on the bed.
âYouâre so wet,â he chuckles. Jackâs thumb presses against your hole, wet and fucking needy for his cock. He spreads open your folds and pushes his thumb deeper into your cunt, collecting whatever slick he can.
As he gets closer to your clit, you can feel more fingers gather along your pussy. He scoops up your juices, and less than a second later, you hear him groaning like heâs just eaten dessert.Â
You push your face deeper into the mattress. âAre you fucking tasting me?â
âWhat about it?â he asks. âYou taste good, donât worry.âÂ
âIâm really wet, and Iâm starting to get embarrassed.âÂ
Jack's hand â the one he had in your cunt â runs down your spine and collects a handful of hair. He pulls you up just a bit as he presses the red tip of his cock against your hole.Â
âItâs good that youâre wet,â he says. âIâm flattered. And itâll be easy to fuck you.âÂ
You make a terrible attempt at nodding. âSo then fuck me, Jack.âÂ
He slowly pushes into you, and you struggle to moan through the position your neck is in. Even then, itâs loud and whiny.Â
Jack lets go of your hair as his cock is fully inside of you. Thereâs pressure, but itâs nothing bad. He doesnât thrust at first, just slow in-and-outs as you get used to him.Â
âDonât treat me like Iâm porcelain,â you mumble into the sheets. âFuck me like the old man you are.âÂ
Jack slaps your ass and grips the blossoming red mark on your skin at this. He jerks back, then thrusts his cock deep into you. He thinks it might have been too much, but you can already feel your orgasm.Â
Jack doesnât have to fuck you at all for you to come. You could have him inside of you, and youâd probably come in less than ten minutes. All he would have to do is play with your nipples, grunt into your ear, and youâd unravel.Â
You sure hope the sex continues after tonight, because now you really do have a checklist in your head of things you want to do with him, starting with a blowjob.Â
Jack picks up his speed and grabs your hips for stability and enough power to ram into you. His grunts are loud â echoing off the walls and puncturing your eardrums. Itâs the best sound youâve heard in a long time.Â
âFuck me,â you moan into the mattress. âYouâre so good. So fucking good.âÂ
Jack loves the positive affirmations you cry out as he leans further over the curve of your ass. He grabs a handful of hair again and pulls you up. With this, you feel him much more.Â
The way he has you right now â hair pulled, tits out and still hard from when his tongue danced across them â is making you come.Â
âIâm close,â you whine.Â
âYeah?â he grunts. âYouâre gonna come from me fucking you from the back like this? Pulling your hair and drilling into your tight, wet ass pussy?âÂ
You feel like crying. Not that his words are humiliating, but because you are right at the edge of your orgasm, and moaning isnât enough.Â
âYouâre such a good fuck,â he keeps going. âSo good, you hear me?âÂ
You nod. âKeep fucking me like this, and Iâll come.âÂ
Jack does for a second, but then grunts in discomfort. You stop yourself for a moment and look over your sweaty shoulder. âYou okay?â you pant.Â
He scrunches his nose and purses his lips. âLeg is kinda hurting.âÂ
âDo you want me to ride you?âÂ
âFor your first time having sex?â He makes a âtskâ noise with his tongue and shakes his head. âLet me just adjust.â He gets onto his bed and kneels near the edge. His stump is in front of him but in a more manageable position. âCome here. Position yourself in front of me, on your hands and knees.âÂ
Itâs awkward following his directions, but he carefully guides you.Â
âWhatâs this one called?âÂ
âThe kneeling fox.âÂ
âKnowledgable on sex terms? Should I be jealous of someone?â you joke. Â
He laughs into your neck as he pulls you against him using your tits. âNo, this was a long time ago,â he laughs. He palms your tit before adjusting himself a bit more behind you, grabbing his still hardened cock. âLift your hips up a bit, alright?âÂ
You do as he says, and when he aligns himself with your entrance, you sink down. âMhm. Fuck me, I could come just sitting on your cock.âÂ
âOh yeah?âÂ
You bounce your ass on his cock and place your hand over Jackâs, which is still holding onto your boob. âFuck yes. Let me just sit on it. So thick and warmâŚâÂ
âKeep talking,â he ushers you. âYouâre so good with your words I might come just by them.âÂ
âIs me not telling you to fuck me good enough? You want me to tell you how bad I need your thick cock and fingers in my pussy?âÂ
He grunts. His other hand loops over your thighs and immediately finds your clit. He rubs over the wet bud, iliciting a whine from you. âThis good?âÂ
âWould be better in me,â you say in a low tone.Â
âYou into double penetration?â he asks, amazed.Â
âMhm⌠I think Iâll add that to my list.âÂ
âKeep talking.âÂ
âIâm gonna keep bouncing on your cock but Iâm going to need you to thrust into me as hard as you can, too. I need to hear it off the walls. How wet I am. How big of a mess Iâm leaving on your bed, on your cock.âÂ
âIâm gonna come soon,â he cries out.Â
The squelching noises are loud.Â
You drop your head as Jack keeps circling your clit. You add onto the loud moans filling Jackâs room.Â
âKeep going. Fuck me harder,â you beg. He follows. You stop bouncing and let him jerk his hips faster into your aching cunt. The slapping noises your ass makes against his skin is like music to your ears. âHarder. Fuck me harder until I come all over you.âÂ
Jack is breathing and crying hard against your neck. You turn your head so your ear is right beside his mouth. He takes your earlobe into his mouth and gently sucks on it.Â
His fingers go further down your pussy and dangerously close to your entrance. You want him to just sink his fingers into your already full cunt⌠You can just askâŚÂ
Jack does it. He sinks a finger into your hole and that does it for you. He doesnât pump his meaty fingers into you, just leaves one there and you unravel completely.Â
Your orgasm takes over every inch of your body. You donât exactly know what you say â whether itâs Jackâs name you mumble over and over through a series of moans, or if itâs just nonsense of âyesâ â you canât make it out.Â
When you come down, Jack is still hugging you, and still fucking you, but slowly. âSo good,â you hear him whisper. âYour pussy is so good, and tight, and fucking delicous. Just sit here for a second.âÂ
âHow long before I get a UTI?âÂ
He lets out a tired laugh. âIâll make sure that doesnât happen, just sit, okay?âÂ
You spend the next three minutes cockwarming. Jack spends those three minutes kissing your shoulders and baby hairs that stick to the back of your neck.Â
When you decide to get up and use the bathroom, Jack picks up his crutches and follows you in. He tells you youâre free to pee. Really, he urges you because youâre incredibly shy at first.Â
When you do, he watches your naked body at the sink like heâs never witnessed such a beautiful person on earth before.Â
âWhat?â you ask. âShould I put a shirt on?âÂ
He shakes his head. âThis canât be just sex,â he tells you with a straight face. âI need to take you on a proper date; because Iâm starting to like you.âÂ
âGood,â you tell him. âNow I donât have to keep adding weird desires to my list just so I can keep seeing you.âÂ
Pool
Jack Abbot x fem!resident!reader
summary: pool day with your attending boyfriend after a night shift.
content/warnings: pure fluff, implied age gap, just Jack and reader being in love.
word count: 1.3k
soundtrack: daylight - taylor swift
°ââ.ŕłŕż*:シ
âDo you wanna go to the pool?â you ask suddenly.
Jack is charting. Youâre charting. Both of you should be concentrating on finishing your notes so you can finally get out of the hospital, but instead youâre spinning in your chair asking ridiculous questions halfway through the night shift. A normal night here at PTMC.
Jack looks up from the computer slowly, one eyebrow raised. âWhat?â
âThe pool,â you repeat, like itâs the most obvious thing in the world. âThereâs a pool in your building complex. I saw it the first time you invited me over. Have you ever actually used it?â
He leans back in his chair, thinking for a second before shaking his head. âNever.â
Your jaw drops. âJack. Youâve lived there for almost ten years.â
âAnd?â
âAnd youâve never gone into the pool?â
âNope.â
âThatâs actually insane.â
A quiet laugh leaves him, tired but warm. âIâve been a little busy being a doctor, darling.â
You swivel toward him dramatically. âWell, congratulations. Today youâre going to experience whimsy!â
jack abbot, fem, suuuuper short
It's nearly nine when Jack walks behind Trinity and Dennis at the hub, peeking at whatever they're looking at on her phoneâa post of some trendy commodity thatâs gone viral for the month.
He stops in his tracks and chuckles, âOh, my wife loves those.â
They practically snap their necks to look at him, confused. âYour wife?â Trinity asks, incredulous.
Jack nods toward a vague direction in front of them, and their eyes lead to you, yawning your way through charting at a desk. In the middle of it, you put your head down to sneak a few seconds of shut-eye.
The two slowly turn their heads back to him, with Trinity squinting her eyes at his affectionate gaze to you.
âI thought you guys had only been seeing each other for, like, a month.â
Jack shrugs. âIâm, uhâŚwhat do you kids call it? Manifesting.â He pats Dennisâ shoulder. âFinish your charts and go home. It's late.â
He walks away, leaving them more confused than before. They watch him round your desk, kiss your head, and murmur something to you. You sigh and lift your head, visibly a bit lighter.
Trinity gags. âJesus Christ.â
âHey, I think it's nice!â Dennis nudges her with his elbow.
âYou seriously did not just say that.â
âthe cure
jack abbot x people pleaser! reader
"All because my head is full of poison And my heart is full of doubt I got toxins in my bloodstream You tried so hard to suck out âthe cure, Olivia Rodrigo
summary: youâre the ray of sunshine and overly dependable smiling intern the night shift crew has been needing. But a certain attending begins noticing you might need more help than you let on.
wc: 11.7k (a short one sorry guys)
warnings: crippling perfectionism, high-key people pleasing, reader is bright and bubbly to compensate for how awful she feels day to day, one vomiting scene, service dom jack, santos is on nightshift bc i love her and i wanted her in this fic. trinity and dennis and reader r basically siblings, jackâs characterization in this is DEF andrew pope cody-esque panic attacks, mental health struggles, reader is an intern again but i swear itâs just cause i watch a lot of greys and interns r the only stage of medical career i know enough about to write semi-well T-T
acknowledgments: once again a round of applause for @wesandresons for the lovely gif, and @uzmacchiato and @cursed-carmine for the dividers!
a/n: iâm not rlly sure i like how this turned out but oh well @leeknowpegger i hope this keeps you company
masterlist

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Summary: The only time you get to enjoy your dinner at PTMC is when you head to the roof, only for a certain night shift attending to start joining you.
A/N: Cheesy af and probably done before. Jack is old, yada yada yada. Just over 1k words. Had to get this out of the drafts because idk what else to do with it.
Through His Stomach
The cafeteria food sucks. Everyone knew this.Â
Except you.Â
On your first day, you had brought your own lunch to work at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre, but hadnât had a chance to even look at it never mind eat it.Â
On your second day, you found an opportunity to slip down to the cafeteria for a bite and resolved never to do so again.Â
On your third day, and every day after that, you brought food from home, sneaking nibbles here and there before getting dragged back into the whirlwind that was PTMC.
But a few months into your time as the hospitalâs newest psychologist, you discovered the best place to eat more than two mouthfuls at a time was the roof.Â
And a few months after that, you discovered that eating on the roof meant youâd have company.Â
oh wow. my silver fox. need a copy of shawn. dilf is dilfing đ