︵⠀Happy Day Off (J.A)⠀🫧Ⳋ𝅄
Daddy!Bf Jack Abbot x Female!Reader ⋮ (wc: 482)
summary : Overworked Jack comes home on his day off to find a present.
warnings : smut, daddy kink, fauxcest?, ageplay, maybe more idk im lazy srry :c a/n: omg first post kinda nervyy 👀 also i cant write for shiiiiituhhh masterlist , taglist (soon)
Jack was never the type to truly relax on his days off. Instead of sleeping in or simply enjoying the quiet, he found ways to keep himself busy—picking up extra shifts, staying glued to the police scanner, anything that kept his mind occupied and away from the silence.
At least, that was what he called it.
“Being productive.”
You knew better.
You knew Jack hated sitting still with his own thoughts, especially on mornings when you were working and he had too much empty time on his hands. So when you realized you had enough PTO saved up, you decided to take a day for yourself.
A day to surprise him.
The sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet house.
“Baby, daddy’s home—”
Jack’s voice carried from the living room as he made his way toward the bedroom, only to stop the second he opened the door.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
He just stared.
Like his brain needed an extra second to catch up with what he was seeing.
You were there, waiting for him on the bed, wearing a delicate lingerie set he definitely didn’t remember buying—soft lace that clung to your curves, the fabric already slightly damp between your thighs. A playful smile curved your lips as you watched his expression shift from confusion to open, hungry surprise.
“Hi daddy,” you giggled softly. “Happy day off!”
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time all day.
“Happy day off indeed…”
He set his bag down by the door without looking away, his attention locked on you as he stepped closer. All the stress, all the overworking, all the excuses about staying busy—gone in an instant.
For once, Jack wasn’t thinking about the job.
He was thinking only about you.
“Is this all for me, pretty girl?”
You answer with a small nod, still giggling under your breath as his hands find your thighs. His touch is slow and deliberate, warm palms sliding up the soft skin as he takes in every detail of the effort you put into surprising him. The playful look in your eyes only seems to encourage him further, and the air between you thickens with quiet heat.
A smile pulls at his lips as he shakes his head, clearly amused—and completely caught off guard by you.
His hands slide slowly between your thighs, the warmth of his palms pressing firmly against the soft inner flesh as he coaxes them open wider. Fingers dig in just enough to claim the space, spreading you for him until cool air kisses the damp lace stretched tight over your sex. He cups you fully then—broad palm molding against the soaked fabric, the heat of you soaking straight through the delicate lace so that every ridge of his hand registers against your swollen, dripping folds.
You’re already so wet that the material clings and shifts with every small movement. When he presses upward, the lace drags over your clit in a slow, deliberate stroke, drawing a soft, helpless sound from your throat.
“Lay back f'me,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with appreciation. “Let daddy enjoy his present…”
