Jack Abbot x F!Reader (DBF, MDNI 18+, no use of y/n)
Summary: Your car breaks down, so your dad sends you to his best friend for help. You weren’t expecting “Uncle” Jack to be the one fixing it…or to discover that somewhere along the way, he got really, really hot.
CW/TW: Explicit sexual content (18+), Dirty talk / phone sex, Mutual masturbation, Age gap (all characters are consenting adults), Reader insert (Female Reader)
Note: one-shot, not related to my longer fic Broken Mirrors
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Your car wasn’t running. As you usually do, you called your dad and asked him what to do.
“Learn how to take care of the fucking thing to start off with,” he said jokingly, but you didn’t laugh.
He cleared his throat. “Look, call a tow truck, ANY tow truck, and have them tow it to Uncle Jack’s house. I’ll call him and let him know what’s up. He should be able to diagnose it and probably fix it.”
“Uncle Jack? I don’t really know him. You sure he’ll be okay with this?” you asked.
“You’ve talked to him when he calls me, right? He’s my best friend. Of course he’s gonna help you.”
“Uncle” Jack wasn’t your uncle at all. He was in the army with your dad. The two went through a lot together. Jack saved your dad’s life and your dad saved Jack’s life when Jack lost his leg.
Jack was around when you were a newborn, but you don’t remember that at all. After he got married and moved into the city, you rarely saw him again.
Your dad came and stayed with him for a few months when Jack’s wife passed away a few years ago now. You saw him a few times during that period and all you remember is him being really sad and grumpy, which was understandable.
Since then, it had only been a few awkward conversations on the phone or the occasional FaceTime when he called your dad. He awkwardly asked about school, and you awkwardly answered before asking about work.
You moved into the city a year ago after transferring to Pitt for your graduate degree.
Your dad kept telling you to visit “Uncle” Jack, but between school, your job in the student library, and (your now ex) boyfriend, you really didn’t have the time. Plus with Jack working nights, it was almost impossible.
“Dad, call Jack first. If he’s cool with it, then I’ll call the tow truck.”
“Fine I’ll call him now,” your dad said, annoyed.
“Thank you. Text me and let me know what he says.”
“He’s gonna say yes! But whatever. We’ll do it your way. Love ya kid.”
“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, smiling at how old and curmudgeonly your dad sounds on the phone now.
Your dad texts you a minute later.
“Uncle Jack said yes. Told you. He’s off tonight so have them take it now if they can. Use my credit card to pay for the tow.”
You smile and start looking up tow companies.
Quite a few hours later you arrive in the tow truck at Jack’s house.
The garage opens and Jack is standing there, using a rag to wipe something off his hands.
As the tow driver maneuvers his way back and forth on the narrow street to reverse your car closer to Jack’s garage, you study Jack in the rear-view mirror.
He definitely looks older than the last time you saw him on FaceTime. He used to have tight, reddish curls. His hair is a lot grayer now and there are a lot more lines on his face.
But you noted that none of this looked bad on him. You thought he actually wore it very well.
You recall having a bit of a crush on him when you were younger, looking at pictures of him in his fatigues when they were deployed to Afghanistan. Probably because your dad always talked about him like he was some kind of superhero.
The driver finally gets your car lined up with the garage and Jack lifts his hand to signal him that it’s close enough.
Jack walks to your door and smiles before he opens it for you.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says. He puts his hand out to help you down.
You forgot that he called you that. Hearing it in his gruff, older voice gave you butterflies.
“What the fuck? Is Jack…hot?” you ask yourself.
The answer, as you see him even closer, is unequivocally: yes.
You notice his chest through his navy colored t-shirt, his biceps, his thick forearms with large veins snaking over them, leading down to his well-worked hands with thick fingers.
He was wearing gray cargo pants which were not fitted, but you couldn’t help but notice they were very snug against certain areas like his thighs, his ass, and his bulge.
You were still holding his hand, now a little longer than what would be considered normal. You let go and gave him an awkward hug.
The two of you laughed a little, both embarrassed at how unnatural this felt.
“Why don’t you wait over there, I’m going to go talk to this guy,” Jack said, gesturing toward the driver.
You stood beside the garage and watched Jack talking to the tow truck driver, coming up with a game plan to get the car all the way in the garage.
They talked for a while longer and you’re pretty sure you heard the mention of battalions which meant the driver was military. You had plenty of experience waiting for your dad to stop talking to fellow vets so you knew the wait was going to be a bit longer.
You scrolled a bit. Checked your email. It seemed like their conversation was dying down so you looked up just in time to see Jack dap up the driver and pull him in for the bro hug / back pound which was just one of those non-sexual things that guys did that you found so attractive.
Your car got lowered and together the three of you pushed it into Jack’s garage.
Jack shook the guy’s hand again and then the two of you were alone.
“So…you going to hang out here while I take a look? Sorry your dad wasn’t very clear on what was going on.”
“Yeah, I figured I’d wait for a diagnosis and then if the car is going to take a while I’ll just Uber back to my place.”
You think a little longer and with a sigh, add, “And then Uber to and from work and school until it’s ready, I guess?”
“That could get expensive. You don’t have someone who could give you rides?” he asked.
“No. I just moved into a friend’s place and she already shares the car with her boyfriend.”
“I thought your dad said you had a boyfriend. He can’t help you out?” Jack asked as he lifted the hood of your car.
“We broke up. He kept referring to someone he worked with as his ‘work wife’ even after I told him I wasn’t comfortable with that.”
Jack was still bent over the engine but he looked up at you, his raised eyebrows making deep lines in his forehead.
“He knows your dad was Special Forces?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell dad that’s why we broke up. Just told him that neither of us had much free time and were choosing to focus on school.”
You paused for a moment. Why did you tell Jack?
It should have felt strange trusting him this quickly. Instead, it felt oddly natural.
“Yeah, I guess I did. I guess you just make me feel comfortable. Maybe I can invoke doctor/patient confidentiality and you don’t tell my dad?”
Jack laughed, “Sorry, sweetheart. For that to apply you’d have to be my patient.”
The thought of playing doctor with Jack, especially after he called you sweetheart, sounds so enticing and you imagine it before you push it away.
“Well, my car is my baby and she’s your patient. Does that count?”
Jack stands up and wipes his hands on his rag again, drawing your eyes back to those thick fingers.
He pulls his mouth into a shape that reminds you of Robert DeNiro and nods his head.
“I think we can work with that.”
You smile and try not to stare at his forearm veins again.
“I know what’s wrong. I’m going to need a few parts I definitely do not have here. I could run out and get them, but it’s getting pretty late and I wouldn’t be able to work on it tonight. I like my neighbors and the noise would be a little too much for this time.”
“Okay. Do you know how long it would take you to fix?” you ask, worrying about being without your car for too long.
“I’m off the next two nights so I should be able to get it done within that time. I won’t know for sure until I can take her apart a little more.”
“Sounds good. Thank you so much for your help. I can send you money for the parts,” you say, holding up your phone.
“Don’t be silly. I’ll pay for it.”
“Are you sure? You’re already doing the labor for free.”
“Did we agree to that?” he asks, looking at you questioningly.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed,” you say, flustered.
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
You have no idea if he’s joking because he doesn’t smirk, or smile, or laugh at all.
Finally he breaks, “Sorry, I’m fucking with you. It is going to cost you though. Not money.”
“Let me drive you where you need to go the next few days.”
His answer catches you off guard.
You think about it and reply, “Where I’m staying is pretty far away from your place. Thank you, but it’s too much for me to ask of you.”
“You’re not asking. Humor me. Where are you staying? Weren’t you living with your boyfriend?”
“I’m staying on a friend’s couch,” you say. You explain where your friend lives.
“That is far. Not just from me, but from your school too. And your work. I’d be fine with it, but it might cut into the time I can work on your baby.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’ve got a spare room. Just stay here,” Jack says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“That’s too much. I don’t want to put you out,” you say, even though it sounds like a perfect idea to you.
“Not putting me out at all. I insist. I have a spare toothbrush and I’ve got clothes that’ll fit you for tonight, but if you need to go home and grab stuff, I also don’t mind driving you right now.”
You thought about it for a while and answered.
“Do you mind taking me home? Then I can grab stuff like my hair brush and not traumatize you in the morning.”
“I work in the ED, sweetheart. Not much that traumatizes me, but I don’t mind taking you. Let me go grab my keys and I’ll meet you at the Jeep.”
You watch him disappear into his house. The thought of being alone in his Jeep unexpectedly excites you.
A few moments later the two of you are on the highway, Pearl Jam’s “Even Flow” playing on the radio.
You love watching the lines on his face as he pinches his eyes shut to hit the bigger notes. His raspy voice actually sounds pretty good.
You arrive at your place as “Jeremy” plays. You quickly run upstairs and let your roommate know what’s going on. You grab your toiletries and enough clothes to last a few days.
When you come out, Jack is outside the door, leaning against the railing, smiling. You wonder again, “when did he get so hot?”
Jack grabs the bag for you and carries it down the stairs to the Jeep.
On the ride home, you can’t help but look at his beefy thighs, his hands on the steering wheel, his forearms. You wonder, have you ever found these things attractive on a man before? You couldn’t think of a time.
“So, straight home or you need to pick anything up?” he asks.
“Don’t think I need to stop anywhere.”
“How about we make a pit stop at the ex boyfriend’s house? I have a few things I wouldn’t mind discussing with him.”
Jack doesn’t laugh, but you do. You don’t know what comes over you, but when you laugh, you put a hand on his thigh and squeeze.
You remove it quickly, but Jack looks at you and smiles.
You guys talk a little about your dad, school, your job. You go over your schedule for the next few days. Jack’s got a little vacation so he confirms he can drive you everywhere.
“I’ll gladly be your chauffeur. The only rule is: I pick the music.”
“Deal,” you say as you get back to Jack’s house.
You go upstairs and Jack shows you around his nice, but humble home.
“It isn’t much, but I love her,” he says.
“But a two-bedroom house with a garage this close to the city? Even though she isn’t huge, still must have cost you an arm and a leg,” you reply as you peek into the bathroom.
You realize what you said a second later and gasp.
“Oh fuck, Jack! I’m sorry! That was insensitive. I’m such an asshole.”
Jack smiles, “You’re fine, I know it’s just an expression and you didn’t mean anything by it. Calm down.”
You laugh and cover your face.
“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just cry myself to sleep tonight.”
You laugh and groan, “Nooo.”
A bit later, after you’ve both showered and had some dinner, you’re sitting on his couch, watching a movie and Jack’s ordering some of the car parts he already knows he’ll need for tomorrow.
“Hey, you’re missing it,” you tell him.
“It’s a rom-com. They end up together. I’m not missing anything.”
You laugh and roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you say and hit his arm with one of his pillows. “What kind of movies do you like? Let me guess, anything with Terminator, Predator, Rocky, or John Wick in the title?”
Jack snickers but sits silently for a moment.
“I prefer erotic thrillers,” he says, still looking down at his phone.
Your head snaps to the side to face him. You still can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“Like 50 Shades of Gray?” you ask with a laugh.
His expression sours and he replies, “No. Everyone knows anything good was made pre-2000…present company excluded.”
Jack continues, “More like Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct…Body Heat, which is probably my favorite.”
“You’re serious? You like those movies?”
“What is not to like? Little bit of mystery, little bit of action, little bit of sex,” Jack says, lowering his voice a little at the last part.
You decide he’s either actually flirting with you or trying to make you uncomfortable and either way, you want to test this man.
“I wouldn’t mind watching one of those movies,” you say, scooting a little closer to him.
He lifts an eyebrow at you.
“I don’t think you’d like them. If this is what you like,” he says, gesturing towards the rom-com playing on the TV.
“I’m pretty open-minded,” you reply, moving even closer.
Jack shrugs. “Oh, really? Okay then, let’s start with Body Heat.”
You’ve been moving slightly closer every few minutes and Jack’s been acting like he hasn’t noticed.
You’re wearing a comfortable pair of cotton sleep shorts and every time you move, they ride up a bit more.
On the screen, Kathleen Turner spills a red drink on her white blouse and tells William Hurt,
“Would you get me a paper towel or something? Dip it in some cold water.”
“I love her voice,” you say, so close now you can feel the heat of Jack’s body next to you. “So fucking sexy.”
William Hurt replies, “Right away. I'll even wipe it off for you.”
“Yeah? Certain voices turn you on?” he asks, looking down at your exposed thighs.
“Yeah. I love voices with character. Deep or voices that have some rasp to it.”
Kathleen Turner asks, “You don't want to lick it?”
You lift your hips a little and move closer still. Now your thighs are touching.
“…like your voice,” you say, your voice filled with lust.
You press up against Jack and you see a smirk on his face.
Jack turns to you and smiles. You brace for a kiss and part your lips, but instead Jack leans in and whispers in your ear,
“It’s late, beautiful. Hope you have sweet dreams. ‘Night.”
Jack keeps his devilish grin and walks…that walk into his bedroom and shuts the door.
You sit on the couch in disbelief.
After you compose yourself and hold back tears of both anger and embarrassment, you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror after you finish brushing your teeth.
You let out a little chuckle. Then a laugh and you shake your head.
“You idiot,” you tease yourself.
You question what came over you, but you know. Jack and his smile lines. Jack and his biceps. Jack and his thighs. That raspy voice. Those perfect curls. The way he sang in the car. The smutty movie.
He set you up and let you down.
Why? Did he want you and then have second thoughts? Or did he just get off on toying with you?
Your phone buzzes and you look down.
You have a voice message from Jack.
“What the fuck?” you whisper as you put in your AirPod and tap the message.
Jack’s voice plays directly in your ear.
“Hey beautiful. Hope you’re not too mad at me. There’s just some lines I’m not ready to cross. Not because I don’t want to.”
Your stomach flips at the sound of him. Your phone buzzes as another message comes in.
“I want you to know how badly I wanted to put my hand on your thigh…how badly I wanted to slip my fingers up into your little shorts and feel how wet you were for me. I bet you were so fucking wet.”
You feel your face get hot and you take a deep breath. Another buzz. You put your feet up on the bed and lean back against the headboard.
“I wish I could have felt how swollen your clit was. I wanted to play with it so badly and watch you squirm.”
Your toes grip the sheets as you continue listening.
“I wish I could’ve heard your breath hitch as I pushed a finger into your tight, wet hole. Mmmm fuuuuck I know that hole is so tight. It would’ve gripped my finger as I worked it in and out. I would’ve kissed your neck and watched your back arch. Then you beg me to slide in another.”
You grip your breasts through your shirt and pinch your nipple as you imagine it. Jack’s weathered voice was sending you over the edge.
“Are you touching yourself now? I’m imagining you on my bed. Your shorts pulled to the side, playing with your clit. Those delicate fingers that I want wrapped around my thick cock so bad, just furiously rubbing that wet slit as you listen to my voice. I imagine you making a mess of my sheets. If you are…leave it. I want to be the one to wash them in the morning so I can see what I did to you.”
You slide your fingers into your shorts, and your pussy is slick. So slick that it’s actually hard to get much friction on your clit. You make do and slide a finger into yourself as another text comes through. This time it’s a video.
It’s Jack’s POV, looking down at his own lap. He’s in boxer shorts and his very hard, and apparently very large, member is straining against the fabric.
“See what you do to me? Take a look babygirl. Look how fucking hard you make me,” he says as he reaches his hand into the slit of his boxers and pulls out his veiny cock.
He taps his finger to the tip so you can see that it’s covered in pre-cum.
“Look at the mess you’ve made of me, beautiful. Are you messy for me too? Is my voice making that pretty little pussy drip?”
In the video he starts to slowly stroke his cock.
You let out a moan and arch your back. You can feel your juices dripping down you and you know he was right. You’re going to make a mess on his bed.
Another voice message comes through and that rough, sandpaper voice rings in your ears.
“I want you to listen, beautiful.”
Jack grunts and then moans and you can hear the sound of his hand working his shaft.
“Fuck, I know you’d feel so good wrapped around me. I know you could take all of this.”
You take your fingers out of yourself and rub quick circles on your clit, increasing the pressure.
You fumble with your phone but manage to hit the audio button. The mic picks up the wet sounds as you pleasure yourself.
“Fuck, Jack,” you moan. “I’m so wet for you. I’m so close. You’re gonna make me cum!”
You moan and arch your back. Your body shakes and you feel your walls grip and release your fingers rapidly.
“Jack. Jack. JACK!” you cry out as you orgasm and writhe on the bed.
You manage to pull yourself together enough to send it. Before you drop your phone beside you.
You imagine how good it would feel to cum all over Jack’s perfect cock. You imagine how good you could make him feel, your pussy convulsing around him.
You grab the phone and look. It’s another video.
It’s Jack’s POV again. Stroking his hard cock much faster than the first video.
“Oh God yes, beautiful. You sounded so fucking sweet coming for me. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. I just wish I could taste it. Such a good fucking girl. Now I’m going to cum for you. Imagining your body on top of me, riding my fat cock, letting me stretch you.”
His voice is getting a bit more desperate now as he nears his climax.
“Watching you take every fucking inch. Hearing you yell my name. Ugh fuck! Here it comes, beautiful. I wish I was inside of you!”
You watch as Jack’s lower stomach spasms and thick ropes of cum spill out onto his stomach and his thighs. You watch his cock buck and throb until he’s spent. He moans and whimpers and it makes you rub your fingers over your clit and bite your lip.
You can hear Jack breathing heavy in the video as he groans and grabs a Kleenex.
He cleans his thigh first, which you didn’t even notice until now was the first time you’d seen his leg without the prosthetic on. You touch it on the screen lovingly and smile.
“Thank you, beautiful,” he says, his voice somehow so rough and so soothing at the same time. “I could hear you yell my name and I swear it was just what I needed. You’re so fucking sexy.”
His words made you blush and giggle.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he says softly.
You hug your phone to your chest. You’re a little worried about how awkward the morning is going to be, but you decide you’re just going to enjoy this for now.
You get up and peel the top sheet off of the bed, the large wet spot you made still very visible. You open the bedroom door and place it just outside so Jack sees it when he wakes up.
You think about it for a moment and then you pull off your soaked shorts too and leave them on the sheet.
You shut the door, unzip your bag and pull out some underwear and pajama pants and pull them on.
You turn on your side and press play on the last video again, a huge smile on your face.
