Being Nice To Someone You Don’t Like Is Not Manipulation Btw It’s Being Civil

I’m listening to this on repeat forever

the favorite - jack abbot x f!attending!reader

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!reader

a/n: this is my first jack story and i'm really excited. as a former healthcare worker (nurse!) the pitt changed a lot of things for me and it's my favorite show so far. hope you all like this idea of mine. sorry for any spelling mistakes. english is not my first language.

summary: all the times you were everyone's favorite person and one time you were jack’s person. 

one. 

you're a ray of sunshine. 

that's your thing.

you’re nice, intelligent, competent, kind and still the best part of the day for some people. and you’re smart as hell. she loves it. 

your calm energy it’s the reason why you work at the emergency department. people need your calmness around to work. which means you’re the favorite doctor beneath the staff, especially the nurses and med students - you’re their golden girl. 

dana loved you for different reasons. your sense of humour, your energy, the way you pay attention to the details. and most because you stay out of trouble. 

she never had a problem with you, actually, she was glad they put someone sane and kind to work in that shithole. every shift you showed up with something for the team. 

maybe homemade cookies, a cake and even a bread if you feel inspired baking for your people to show how grateful you are for them and to keep the spirits up. thank god it worked every time. perla and princess waited for you in the parking lot a few times just to make sure you got something good. 

what they admired the most about you was your strength to defend the nurses from the crazy patients. it doesn’t matter the shift, if someone is fighting with them, you’re the first one to show up and say some things. perla remembered how you got beaten up to defend princess from a perv that was touching her and how you ended up laughing about it with blood all over your nose (jack almost died when he saw you covered in blood - your blood). 

“it’s nothing, dana. he was touching her and i don’t appreciate it when men do that. she asked him to stop and he didn’t.” you shrugged and smiled at her. “don’t worry, alright? i would've done it for any of you.”

“kiddo, one of these days you’re going to kill me.”

“no i won’t.” you bolwed her a kiss and she laughed. a relieved laugh. “it’s not my fault i would take a bullet for you guys.” 

no one ever questioned your loyalty with the team, everybody knows exactly where’s the limit between respect and bullshit with you. from this day on, she put you under her wing and swore to herself anything that could ever happen to you during a shift was her full responsibility. some days the funniest part of her shift was explaining to abbot how you almost went home with a broken arm to defend them.

two. 

robby was his own person and you knew that. he loved the space, the warmth of his own heart and the loneliness. of course you were worried a lot of times. 

but for him you were like a breath of fresh air. the way you cracked jokes when you noticed he was this close to snap, when you distracted him for a few minutes with some picture of your cat, even taking him to the morgue just to swear bad words, or when you brought him coffee and chocolate. even when you covered for him for a few minutes so he could cry in peace. 

and he loved you a lot for that (and a lot of other reasons, but let’s focus on the main ones).

you never said a word about any of the things he never asked you to do and you've done it either way. he could count on you any moment of the shift just for glancing different at your direction. sometimes you have conversations with your eyes, sometimes you just cursed him under your breath and that was it. 

you even scared him a little. 

“i don’t want to see you for at least twenty minutes, robinavich. don’t make me yell at you.” you don’t even gleaned at him from the computer. “i got this. go grab something to eat while you cry, i don’t know. call your boyfriend, go watch some babies at peds i want you gone. the kids are my responsibility now.” 

“i need to be grown up now, i am literally their boss.” he tried to argue but one look from you was enough.

“if you don’t disappear in the next thirty seconds i’ll call jack and things will be worse.” you got up crossing your arms like a mother. 

“jezz, fine. please don’t ground call papa” he rolled his eyes, laughing and walked away from you, disappearing from your sight. 

“that’s how you teach grown men to be normal.” you winked at dana who was watching everything mesmerized cause she begged robby to take a break and he didn’t listen. 

robby was gone for thirty minutes and no one noticed his absence. when he returned to the nursing station he saw you teaching the med students how to do a proper examination on a normal patient, listening and answering all of the questions they had like a pro. 

you got everything covered and he felt good to have someone to help without needing to ask. 

that’s why you were his favorite. 

three. 

the med students loved you. the absolutely worship the ground you walked on. they loved your patience, your mind and especially how you treated them like people. in your mind they were there to learn, which means they'll make some mistakes and that's partially fine as long as they don’t kill anybody. 

“she has a masters and a doctorate, guys!” javadi once exclaimed like she found gold at the ED. 

at some point you became their confident. you knew every little detail about their life. how withaker was living with santos, how javadi was crushing mateo really bad even how santos struggled with the loss of her friend. mel learned how to open up about her sister's situation and mohan was navigating through the loss of her father even after all this time. you even helped mckay with the legal proceedings for her to have her son back. 

you knew everything. 

during your shifts you did your best to rotate between them. each day you choose one to watch from close and teach what you know and everyday they fight to decide who stays with you but after dr santos and whitaker dared to start a fist fight robby and dana choose for them. 

robby and jack were a little jealous of you, especially because you’re a smooth talker and you charmed everyone who listened. 

“it’s unfair how they follow you around like some sort of queen bee.” robby almost cried with his words. 

“i heard they have a groupchat with you, is it true?” jack nearly jumps from his seat. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you sipped your coffee. 

“oh you know exactly what i’m saying.” he shots back and you laughed hard. 

“are you jealous of them? from what i’ve known you don’t even like interns, abbot.” 

“yeah, but i like to know what they say about my girl.” 

“they call her mama bear, brother.” robby looked at his hands trying to hold a chuckle. 

they’re definitely jealous. 

you use your time to teach them some valuable lessons. you help them navigate in the transition of becoming a doctor. smoothly and nice, just like you learned. 

“you know, santos, i’ll be honest, you need to review your way of talking with people.” you were beside her with crossing arms, watching her stitch a patient. 

your voice was hard and soft at the same time. 

“i’m only rude to the jerks.” you hold your laugh. 

“at one moment you’ll start to see all of them as jerks and this can’t happen.” you warned her softly. “imagined if you’re the one in their position. would you like to be treated like that?” 

she stared at you and nodded gently, sighing at your words. 

“what if i can’t do that?” 

“you will call me and we’ll try a different approach.” you touch her shoulder and squeeze. “i don’t want you to be cold and indifferent. the medicine needs to make you feel something. you’re doing a good thing for someone you like or not.”

they listen to you and they care. if you say something immediately they’ll do it and will make it like their life depends on it. 

at your birthday, for example, they made you a cake from scratch and even decorated it with pink frost and a glitter candle. you burst out laughing just for them to do that for you. no one else got a cake, just you. 

they even wrote you a small letter. 

“thank you for being the best teacher for us. we loved you, mama bear.  lots of love and hugs from your students.”

you were really grateful for those kids and they were grateful you’re their teacher. 

four. 

langdon was a problematic guy. it was no secret. he knew it, you knew it. but he was an exceptional doctor. no discussions about that. it was a fact. 

when he first started struggling with his addiction he came to you. something was happening to him and you got it in your heart that in the right moment he would talk. 

and he did.

he always talked about his problems with you. he came to talk about his marriage and how scared he was to broke things off with abby, how scared he was of being a shitty father. he viewed you more like an older sister, a protector of him. he liked how you never judged his fears, he liked the way you listened and tried to put some sense into his mind to do the right things. 

but this time it was different. it was worse. eating him alive. 

you were working a double shift when he found you in the stairs eating a burger in peace. you offered him some and he denied it. the air around him was thick, heavy and sad. he was a broken man and the sight almost broke your heart. 

“talk to me, frank.” 

“i fucked up.” you nodded, putting your food away to hold his hand.

“heard about it.” he sighed and you could see how embarrassed he was. “you need to get some help. i can’t see you struggling and acting like nothing's wrong. i like you too much to close my eyes and pretend.”

“i’m going to rehab. eleven months.” you smile. “robby is pretty pissed at me.” you both laughed. 

“good for you, frank.” your hand find his shoulder “you’re gonna get better. i’ll be there to help you whenever you need someone to talk, to eat burgers or talk shit about our job.the world is pretty fucked and i’m pretty sure you need a chance to make things right from your mistakes, you hear me?”

he nodded feeling a little less lost knowing you’ll be there to help. he wasn’t alone anymore and when he understood he had you by his side, the journey was smoother. 

five. 

jack abbot was a man of darkness. he worked so much better at night. it was his comfort zone. 

until you showed up years ago and messed up this whole dark theme he had planned for himself. 

working doubles wasn’t strange to you. you have bills to pay and things to accomplish and no time to waste. you two get along pretty well. more than well, actually. you were unstoppable together and everybody knew that. even walsh recognize you were good. she liked you (a miracle in jack’s view) a lot. 

you knew better than to date another doctor. you did this once and ended up in a pretty bad divorce. and with jack? you didn’t care anymore. 

he also knew better than to date another doctor. to date anyone actually. but no one was you. no one had a contagious laughter like yours. no one had a brain like yours. 

he was pretty sure god, or whatever divine figure, sent you just for him. 

the whole ‘soulmate’ story was a lie to him, until it wasn’t. you definitely was his soulmate. his favorite person.

his person. 

from the quiet drive home after a shift. from the warmth of your body curled around him. even your cold feet touching his feet in the middle of the night. 

falling for you was so easy if you like to observe things from a closer perspective. he noticed how you always have something red when you work the night shift and how you have something green at the day shift. he noticed you liked your coffee sweet for normal shifts and how you drink your coffee black at night.

he observes how you treat everyone, how you greet them with a bright smile and the coziest hugs even on your worst day. he could spend hours watching you talk (he does that everytime you pick an online class to teach) or breathe (he watched your sleep like a crazy psycho). 

you’re his person when you grab him coffee without him asking, when you sneak a sweet in the pocket of his scrubs. when you catch his gaze from across the room. when you start rambling about some gossip you heard through dana. when you talk to yourself trying to remember the article you just published.

to be loved is to be seen and he sees you. 

 you’re his person when he knows you’re his. 

he knows you are his girl when you’re sitting in his bed with his shirt and his socks, messy bun, glasses, computer on your lap, cup of tea in the nightstand and his dog laying at your feet waiting for you to move. the comfortable silence. the white noise of the television playing something he lost track of what it was. it’s when he looks at you like you’re his salvation from the darkness. it’s the words that come through his mind when he writes you a letter or a note. 

“i think i’m going crazy.” you whisper looking at him for a second.

“where is this coming from?” he chuckled. 

‘just checking if you agree or not.” you winked and he laughed hard. 

“pretty funny until you start accusing me of madness.” 

“i could never! it was one time, c’mon.” he took your glasses and held your face. 

“you’re the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever seen.” love. that was love from him. 

he doesn’t feel bad showing you who he really is. you’ve seen him, really seen him. you love him for who he is, good baggage or bad. you love his mean remarks, his type of affection. you love how he is quiet. you love how he balances his life going to therapy, talking to someone. you find it funny how he tries to hide a smile when you compliment him. how he flustered when you kiss him in public. how he loves when you bake cookies for him. 

“i loved your brownies. did you put some coffee this time? best one so far. love you. -j”

to be loved is to be seen and you see him. 

it’s the hope of a future he know it’s worth fighting for because you’re his person. you’re his present.

the kind of love that doesn't need words to be there (but he has a ring in his drawer waiting for the right moment). 

Early Spring Snow

Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

You didn’t mean to end up in your own ER after a grueling day shift. There had been an early spring snow in Pittsburgh a couple of days ago, and the daytime sun and nighttime freeze caused black ice to form everywhere. The Pitt was slammed with broken bones from slipping and falling. And you were about to be one of those patients.

You had originally planned to go back to your apartment, but your boyfriend, Jack Abbot, insisted that you go to his house while he was at work. If the weather continued to fluctuate, he wanted you to have access to his backup generator that would keep the electricity going. So you agreed, and you had picked up some groceries to cook breakfast for him when he got off his night shift.

You were double fisting the grocery bags as you walked up the sidewalk. Jack had salted the concrete to prevent black ice, and you could hear each crystal crunch under your shoes. You made it to the front door before realizing you left your keys in the car. With an annoyed huff that you could visualize in the icy air, you set the groceries down, and turned to run back to your car to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

And that was your mistake. Your foot found the singular patch of ice on the sidewalk that had evaded Jack’s salting efforts. You had no time to react, and instinctively, your hands braced your fall as you fell hard onto the concrete. A string of curse words hissed from your mouth as you unsteadily rose to your feet. You brushed off the salt from your knees and upper body, but there was an odd pain coming from your left arm.

Because of your puffy coat, you couldn’t initially see that your forearm was going in a direction that it shouldn’t. In fact, the lower half of your forearm didn’t seem to be connected to your upper half.

Fuck. You knew the endorphins were gonna wear off soon, and you wanted to be under a considerable amount of pain meds when it did. Drunk with adrenaline, you got back in your car and drove to the Pitt, ditching the groceries at Jack’s front door.

When you arrived at the parking lot of the Pitt, you were grateful to find it generally unbusy. You walked through the front door and passed through the waiting room. Mel King was the first one to spot you. She grinned and waved eagerly.

“What are you doing here?” She asked excitedly.

You smiled at your friend’s enthusiasm, but the pain in your arm reminded you of your reason to visit. “I think I broke my arm.” You replied.

Mel’s smile quickly vanished, and she began to usher you towards an empty room. “Oh, that’s not good. Let’s get you checked out.” She said.

You entered the room and began to take off your puffy winter coat. You tossed it on the chair in the room, and you heard Mel gasp. Her eyes were locked on your arm, and you saw for the first time how bad it was. Definitely broken.

She sat you on the edge of the bed and immediately began a physical exam of your wounded arm. “What happened?” She asked.

You sighed, feeling embarrassment course through your veins after teasing patients all day about this very thing. “Slipped on black ice.” You responded.

Mel nodded, not an ounce of judgment on her face. What an angel. “I’m gonna go get you a sling and get you in line for an x-ray. I’ll order some morphine, too.” She said, about to run out of the room, but hesitated for a second. “Any chance you’re pregnant?” She asked.

You felt the default answer of “no” in the back of your throat, but you stopped yourself. You had irregular periods, and you and Jack weren’t the best at using protection every time he wanted to fuck you. Although you were confident that you were not, you found yourself answering “I don’t know.”

Mel nodded, taking the information the best she could. You could see from her reaction that she was a little surprised. “Um, okay! Let me get you a sling and we’ll do a urine test before we send you off to x-ray.” She said.

And you were alone in the room again. You shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed and wondered if you should tell Mel to get Jack. The only person on staff that knew of your relationship with him was Robby. There wasn’t much opportunity for others to speculate because day shift rarely interacted with night shift. You decided against telling Jack as you vaguely remembered seeing a mass of doctors and nurses in Trauma 1.

Mel soon returned with the sling and urine cup. “Alright, let’s get you in this sling.” She said.

She guided your distorted arm into the holder of the sling, making sure you didn’t endure anymore pain. Once the strap was adjusted, she handed you the urine cup. “You know the rules. Wipe front to back with the sanitary towel, pee for a few seconds, then collect the specimen.” She instructed.

You smiled slightly. “Thank you.” You replied before heading to the bathroom.

Getting your dirtied scrub bottoms off with one hand was much harder than you thought it would be. Bits of salt were still buried in the fabric, and they began to fall onto the tile floor of the bathroom as you shimmied out of the pants. You followed Mel’s instructions to a T, then did your best to wash your good hand with soap and warm water.

As you headed back to your room, you caught a glance of Trauma 1. Jack was commanding the room with ease and working hard to creatively intubate the patient. Your heart fluttered at the sight, rarely getting to see your boyfriend in action. You reentered the room, and Mel was there waiting for you.

“Why aren’t you in Trauma 1?” You asked.

Mel took the cup from your hands and immediately dipped a pregnancy test. “Oh, they have too many people in there already.” She answered and placed the test and cup on the counter behind her. “Plus, Doctor Abbot is scary in trauma situations.”

You giggled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, he can be pretty fierce in a high stress situation.” You replied, trying not to let on the extent of which you knew him.

Mel nodded and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You know, I’ve heard Princess and Perlah mention that he has a girlfriend now. He’s been a lot less mean.” She added.

Your face flushed, and you prayed the fluorescent lighting wouldn’t highlight the redness. “Oh, seriously?” You tried to fake.

“Yeah. She works on the day shift I think. I don’t know who it is. Do you?” She looked to you, genuinely curious.

You shrugged nonchalantly, honing in on your best acting skills. “I don’t think so. But now I’ll be on the look out.” You replied.

Mel turned slightly to look at the test. “Oh. Um…let me get another test.” She said before hurrying out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow but figured she may not have saturated the first test enough. When she returned, she dipped the second test in the cup and placed it next to the first one.

“I’m gonna get you some acetaminophen for the baseline pain.” She said and disappeared again.

You let out a disappointed sigh. Acetaminophen wasn’t going to do shit with your broken arm. Morphine would work a lot better and faster. Mel returned with a couple of pills and a small cup of water. You downed the pills, hoping they would provide some relief.

Mel peered over at the pregnancy tests again, and you could see she was uncomfortable by the way she wrung her hands. “Okay, so both of these tests are positive. You’re pregnant.” She said, not knowing the exact tone to use.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn’t even speak, but with your free hand, you reached out. Mel handed both tests to you. And she was right. Two lines instead of one. Pregnant. Your hand began to tremble, and the room spun around you.

Mel noticed your distress and placed a hand on your shoulder to push you back against the bed. Your head came to rest on the mattress. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?” She tried to calm you.

You nodded, and you followed her lead in taking two deep breaths. “I’m sorry, I just-…I didn’t know.” You admitted sheepishly.

Mel nodded. “That’s okay. It’s not what you expected. Let me go get the ultrasound machine, and I can see how far along you are.” She said before hurrying out.

You were alone in the room again. Pregnant. How could you not know? You didn’t have any morning sickness. Your irregular periods made for a perfect red herring. Maybe your bras had been a little tighter, but you assumed that was from eating extra snacks in between breaks. Oh. Eating extra snacks. Yeah, that was one sign.

Then all you could think about was Jack. You had talked about the future, about kids, but that was wishy washy stuff. You expected that to be much farther into the future. If it ever happened. Not now. Was he going to be mad? Or sad? Was he going to leave?

You were brought back to reality when Mel swung the curtain open and wheeled the ultrasound in. “Okay, I’m gonna put some warm gel on your belly, could you lift up your shirt?” She asked.

You did as she asked, and your eyes were riveted on the compression marks from your scrub pants. They had been a little snug lately. Mel squirted the gel onto your belly, then took the probe to navigate.

“We may not see anything if it’s still early. I’ll have to use the transvaginal probe if it is. But…” She trailed off as she watched the screen. “It looks like we can see baby right now. Inside the uterus where it belongs.”

You looked to the screen, and there it was. Your baby. Jack’s baby. The outline of a head and body. Arms and legs compressed against it. Just a little fetus. You felt an odd feeling in your chest, a mix between anxiety and joy.

“Oh. That’s my baby.” You said, not even aware that it was out loud and not in your head.

The curtain swung open, and you flinched at the sudden sound. Mel’s hand jerked away from your belly and turned around. Jack stood there, trying to take in the sight before him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked firmly, but you could tell he was distressed in his eyes.

You looked awkwardly to Mel, who decided to present you as a patient case. “29-year-old female presenting with suspected left radial and ulnar fractures after a fall.” She stated, in perfect form.

Jack looked to the ultrasound and back to you, unable to follow based on Mel’s presentation. “So what’s the ultrasound for?” He asked.

Mel shifted uncomfortably, not sure if she should share her coworker’s business. But you were a patient now. “She had two positive pregnancy tests, and I was confirming with ultrasound before sending her to x-ray.” She explained. “Would you like to check?”

Jack had kept his eyes on you the whole time, something unreadable in his face. You had gotten pretty good at understanding the small changes in his expression. He never smiled, even when he laughed, so you had to pick up on the tiniest changes to figure out his mood. But this was new.

“Yes, thank you, Dr. King.” He answered, trading places with her on the rolling stool next to your bed.

He dragged the probe across your belly, staring straight at the screen. You watched him intently, trying to decipher his body language.

“Dr. King, can you give an estimated gestational age?” He asked.

Mel looked at the monitor, noting the baby’s features. “About 12 weeks. About to start the second trimester.” She answered.

You felt another wave of anxiety rush through you. You missed the entire first trimester. “A-are you sure?” You asked.

Jack nodded, not looking away from the screen. “She’s right. Measuring at about 5.4 centimeters.” He confirmed, voice as firm as ever.

Mel looked to you, a small smile on her face. “At 12 weeks, you can tell the gender.” She reminded you.

You looked to Jack, who was diligently studying the baby’s anatomy, making sure there were absolutely no informalities as of now. “The gender?” You repeated, and it brought Jack back to reality.

Jack turned to look at you fully for the first time since he entered the room. Those hazel eyes were welled up with tears, and he was doing everything he could from letting them spill over. “Do you want to know?” He asked, and you could hear the barely-there strain in his vocal cords.

You nodded, not breaking his eye contact. “Yes, please.” You whispered.

It took ounce of military training to hold Jack from breaking down in tears. “It’s a boy.” He answered as steadily as he could.

You smiled, then grinned, and tears streaked down your cheeks. “A boy?” You repeated.

Jack nodded, twisting his face to prevent himself from crying, grateful his face was turned away from Mel. “Yeah, a healthy baby boy.” He affirmed.

You brought your free hand to your face to wipe away some of the tears, and you laughed with a new joy you hadn’t felt before. Jack turned away from you in that moment, but still not fully facing Mel.

“Dr. King, could you go check with imaging and see if they’re ready?” He asked.

Mel nodded. “Yes, sir.” She replied, but looked to you and smiled the biggest smile she had. “Congrats on the baby boy!”

You matched her smile. “Thank you, Mel.” You replied, and then she disappeared behind the curtain.

Before you could begin to speak, Jack wrapped you into his arms, carefully cradling you to avoid your broken arm. The love you felt from that embrace had more than exceeded your expectations. “You’re not mad?” You asked, pulling away slightly.

Jack looked to you with an offended demeanor. “Mad?” He questioned while rubbing your shoulder. “Sweetheart, I could never be mad at you.” He added. “Especially over this.”

You smiled and ran your free hand through his thick, silvered curls. “You’re gonna be a dad.” You whispered.

Jack’s bottom lip quivered, and the tears spilled over his face. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He repeated.

You had never seen him cry before. You desperately wished you had two available arms to pull him tightly into your embrace. Instead, you guided his head to rest close to yours and kissed him gently. He energetically returned the kiss, fingers threading through your hair. But he pulled away when reality hit him.

“Wait, how did you break your arm?” He asked, a new wave of concern washing over his face.

You rolled your eyes at your own clumsiness. “I slipped and fell on black ice outside of your house.” You responded.

Jack huffed, disappointed that he hadn’t put down enough salt. “I’m sorry, love. I thought I fixed it up for you.” He replied.

You shrugged and a slow smile found its way to your lips. “It’s okay. Because now I’m here. And now we have a baby.”

Jack’s concerned expression melted into one of pure happiness. It was one that you had only seen a few times. But despite his tear-streaked face, the joy was unmistakable.

—

A/N: Yeah I’m a sucker for giving my favorite characters a baby, sorry this wasn’t super long, but I wanted to write it before the week started!

Hi honeybun! first off, I LOVE your stories. So creative and sexy

So my question: kinda funny

Do you think Javi P. would be more of a boobs man or an ass man? I always like thinking of these things when it comes to Pedro’s characters. Like I for sure think Joel Miller is all about the booty.

Thanks and *kiss *kiss

hiiiii thank you, i appreciate that sm and ty for reading <3

javi is 1000000000000% a boobs man like he loves a good rack and is always finding any reason to touch up on 'em

and dont even get me started on how mesmerized he gets when you're riding him and your tits are just bouncin around that man goes crazyyyy

gif examples of javi being a tits guy:

emilia perez first loss 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🍾🥂🥂🍾🍾🍾🍾🥂🥂🥂🥂

a pro-palestine group has vandalised parts of donald trump's turnberry golf resort in scotland.

She probably won’t pick him 😭😭😭

Materialists isn't even out yet but I'm already in love. Harry Castillo is perfect. Look at him. I swear if she doesn't pick him I will riot.

RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD??? 😭😭🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽

little luxuries [j.a.]

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Smut (18+). Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Banter. My own special brand of prose, fragments, and italicization. A/N: First full length fic I've read in a hot minute. Just can't get the image of slow morning sex with Jack Abbot out of my mind.

Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes this morning. Tangled in his sheets, hair all in disarray against the satin pillowcase. The shirt you’ve stolen from him rides up over your hips, exposing lavender cotton panties with daisies splashed across them. Cute.

The sight turns him on instantly. More than it should. He can’t help it. Something about you at ease in his space. Completely twisted up in his home, in his bed. In his life. 

Coming home to someone wouldn’t have been a possibility 5 years ago. Seeing you after a long shift, like an oasis after a long trek in a desert, is a luxury he’s still getting used to. And one must take advantage of, and savor, little luxuries whenever they can. 

Perhaps he should feel a little bad for wanting to wake you up so early, when even Phoebus Apollo still hasn’t fully roused himself from sleep, and the Pittsburgh towers stand in black silhouettes against the indigo sky.

Perhaps he should feel guilty for peeling back the twisted sheets to get an eyeful of your prone body. Eyes trailing up your legs, snagging on the curves of your thighs, the supple bend of your ass. 

Maybe he should feel apologetic for reaching out and grabbing a handful. Hand running under the hem of the stolen shirt and up your tummy to cup your breast. For rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching it gently.

But after the night he’s had, he can’t even muster a smidgen of regret. And the sound you make, and the way you arch your back into his touch strikes any trace of repentance from his mind. And when you slowly blink yourself awake and beam at him like he hung the stars in the sky by hand, he can’t help the way his heart skips violently in his chest and all the blood in his body pools straight to his cock. 

“Mornin’, honey.” He gives you a breathtaking smile of his own, fingers still lazily playing with your nipple. 

“You’re back.” You bite the words out around a yawn. You roll onto your back, nudging a foot into his lap. 

“In the flesh.” He switches to your other breast, showing it the same attention. 

“Sun’s not even in the sky, and you’re already feeling me up,” you tease, toes brushing over his hard cock. 

“Sorry.” Jack shrugs with a sheepish grin. “Couldn’t help myself when you look like this.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “When I look like a sleepy mess?”

Jack shakes his head. “When you look like you’re mine. Wearing my shirt, in my bed. A man can only be so strong for so long.”

“Something tells me that apology’s not genuine.” You try to be coy in your response, but there’s a small tremor in your voice from his words.

Mine. Oh don’t you love being Jack’s. 

His hand glides down to the crux of your thigh. “Somethin tells me you don’t really mind.” Jack rubs at the growing damp between your legs. “Barely touched you, honey.”

You spread your legs lazily. “I missed you.”

“That right?” He tugs at the waistband. 

You nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Really missed you.”

“Well, shame on me for leaving you all alone. Ought to apologize for my actions.” His thumb nudges your clit. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you missed me, darling, and I can show you how sorry I am.” 

The words barely finish leaving his lips before you’re already moving towards him, much too turned on to bother with the facade of apathy. 

You crawl into his lap, lips hungrily seeking his own. Jack slings an arm low around your waist, fingers already digging into the curve of your ass. He squeezes hard, molding your pliant body against his own.

Not that you give him much choice, almost knocking him back with the force of your kiss. Your fingers twine through his grey curls, tugging sharply just as your teeth rake over his bottom lip. Jack hisses, equal parts pleasure and pain. And it’s not long before he’s grabbing a handful of your own hair, angling your mouth so he can push his tongue between your lips. Easily dominating you with one gesture. 

Your hips rock against his slowly, languidly. He slaps your ass sharply, urging your stilted rhythm. You’re greedy this morning. Rubbing your clit down on the rough fabric of his jeans. Taking your pleasure with hungry moans pressed against tongue and teeth. 

“Poor baby,” Jack groans against your lips. “Was only gone for 12 hours.” He slides his hand between your legs once more.

Your hips buck, chasing the sweet pressure of his thumb on your clit. “Too long.” You tilt your head back, a whimper choked in your throat.

“I can see that.” He mouths at your pulse. “Can’t even do my job without you jumping on me as soon as I get home.” His middle and forefinger push your panties to the side to play with your cunt. 

“You started it,” you pant, angling your hips so his fingers slip into you shallowly. 

“Hm, did I?” He nips at your throat. “Not how I remember it.” With a crook of his wrist, Jack’s fingers fill you. A poor substitute for the real thing, but you can’t find it in your heart to care. “See, I’m just a tired old man, comin’ home from a grueling 12 hour shift. And you seduced me, wearing my shirt and that underwear I love. Sleeping in my bed. Then you climbed in my lap and started kissing me.”

You mumble something under your breath, half moan, half breathless whisper. 

“What was that, honey?” He asks, fingers still playing with you, ratcheting up the intense storm inside of you. 

“You’re bein’ mean.” You clench around his fingers. 

Jack’s arm locks around your waist, stopping your frantic hips. “Oh?” He asks with raised eyebrows. “Am I?” Mischief dances in his green eyes. 

You nod, against your better judgement. 

“Oh, baby, you don’t know mean. If I was being mean, I wouldn’t let you come. But I’m a gentleman, honey.” His fingers fuck into you, a hard pace that leaves your body boneless. “So I’m gonna make you come with my fingers, and then you’re gonna ride my cock until you come again.”

Jack holds you in place, wanting you to save your energy for later. His deft fingers play the chords of your body. Curling and angling just right. Each thrust of his fingers devastating in its accuracy. Filling your body with the golden light of ecstasy. Your head swims with it. And when he adds his thumb back into the mix, nudging your clit with each pass of his fingers, you’re a goner. 

Your legs try to close on his fingers, but he keeps them open as he works you through your orgasm. 

“Just like that, baby,” Jack’s voice is a husky whisper in your ear. “So pretty when you come.” He slides his fingers from your cunt, groaning at the wetness that coats his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” His tongue laps at the digits. 

You watch his movement, pupils blown wide with lust. 

“Want a taste?” Jack asks. His cock throbs painfully when you nod and stick your tongue out. He pushes his fingers deep into your mouth, only stopping when you gag. “Now was that mean?” He pops the buttons on his jeans. 

“No,” you admit reluctantly. 

“Gonna ride my cock? Make yourself come again?” He lifts you slightly so he can free his aching dick from his pants. He rubs his spit-slicked hand over himself, taking the edge off slightly.

You nod, tongue curling over your lips, tasting the remnants of yourself. 

“Say it.” Jack’s eyes burn into yours. 

You wrap your hand around his, stroking him slowly in tandem. “I’m gonna ride your cock,” you whisper, eyes still locked on his. “And I’m gonna make myself come. Like a good girl,” you add, just to watch his lust filled pupils blow wider. 

“My good girl,” he corrects, nudging his nose against your own. 

“Your good girl,” you amend, knocking his hand away to line his cock up. 

Jack busies himself by removing your shirt. His hands find your tits immediately, his lips follow soon after. Tongue laving at the sweat beading on your chest. He presses reverent kisses to the side of your breasts, before mouthing at your nipple. 

He looks up at you, mouth still pressed on your skin. “C’mon, honey. What are you waitin’ for?”

You hook your panties to the side, rub your slick cunt over his cock. Jack lets out a huff of impatience. His hand comes down on your ass harshly, quickly rubbing the sting away. 

“Darling,” he says through gritted teeth. 

You hum, still rocking against him. 

“Now who’s being mean?”

“Am I?” You look down at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Cuz it’s fun.” You shrug. “Payback’s a bitch, baby.” You press a light kiss to his lips, pulling back with a smirk before he can deepen it. 

He groans. “You gonna make me beg?”

You nod, lips dancing across his jaw. “How badly do you want me?” Your teeth rake against the shell of his ear. 

Jack shudders, warmth rushing across his face. “You know how bad,” he mumbles, hips rocking his hard cock up against you. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” You nip his earlobe. “Tell me.” 

Jack cups your jaw, fingers rubbing absentmindedly at your cheek. “Want you bad, baby.” His voice is a low, husky whisper. “So bad it hurts. Need to be inside your sweet pussy to take the pain away.”

“Yeah?” You slip the tip of his cock inside of you and Jack groans. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice muffled by your breast. “Please, honey.” He presses an open mouthed kiss to the skin, and then the gentle skate of teeth as he bites teasingly. 

You feign deep consideration for a moment, balanced above him. Hips rocking shallowly to coat him with your warmth. Jack’s breath comes out in labored pants against your collarbone. It must be killing him to be patient. To not take control, grab your hips and yank you down on top of him. Put you on your back and fuck into you. 

You might as well reward him. 

“Relax, baby. Let me take care of you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair to cup the back of his neck. “Take care of my old man after his grueling 12-hour shift.” 

Jack looks up at you, a smile on his face. A smile that morphs into a slack-jawed mask of ecstasy as you slide down onto his cock. His groan so full of relief, it’s almost painful. Bubbling up inside of him until it rumbles out of his throat into the quiet room. 

He holds your gaze, whispering quiet praises as you move your hips forward slowly. Savoring the fullness of him within you, the subtle stretch and tightness with every roll back and forth. It’s good. So achingly good. 

“Shit, baby. You feel fucking amazing,” Jack whispers. “Feel like home.” 

You bite your bottom lip, a moan on your tongue. “Want me to move faster?” 

“Nah, honey. Take your time. Just wanna feel you.” One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other splays across your back, holding you close to him. 

So close, your body slides against him with every undulation of your hips. So close he can feel your heart beating in your chest, keeping time with the frantic pace of his own. So close your breaths mingle and twine. Honeyed moans and adulations dripping from your tongues. So full of love, full of worship, they fill his chest with light and warmth. Building and building. Until he’s so close to that wonderful edge he could burst. 

And in any other case he might feel embarrassed to last so briefly. In any other bed, in any other place, he might put it off as long as he could. Fight through it. But not here. Not in this safe space, this home that you’ve both created. Where connection and pleasure is the goal. Where the little death is one to be savored, and not staved off. This hedonistic dance that leads to more and more. 

A different pace. One he’s still getting used to. 

And so when the sensation of your warm cunt grows to be too much. When the waves of pleasure slam against the dam of self-control and it starts to crack and crumble. He comes without warning. A firecracker in the dark early dawn. Filling you until he’s spent and boneless. 

Jack collapses on the bed in sweaty rapture. That bright smile on his face once more mirrors your own. 

You lean over him, fingers tracing the lines of his face. Nails playing in the stubble that lines his jaw. “Doing okay?” 

He gives you a thumbs up in answer. “Never better.” 

“Just checking. I know heart attacks are common for men in your age bracket. Especially after such vigorous activity–”

Jack silences your teasing by rolling you swiftly onto your side, and you laugh sharply in surprise. “Honey, I’m healthy as a horse.” He wraps your leg around his waist. “In fact, since I still owe you one.” His thumb nudges your clit, and your body arches into his. “Let me show you.”