Cathectic And Couchbound

I think since Abbot works nights he gets majority of the GenZ nurses so he starts picking up on some of the phrases (after they explain what they mean)

Example:

Abbot: *really mad* I’m about to crash out

*Robby genuinely thinking he’s going into cardiac arrest*

Indya

See now this is the disrespectful nasty but loving some some I’m talking abouttttttt 🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽

safe harbor

pairing: dr. jack abbot x day shift resident!female reader

summary: you've been pining for the night shift attending dr. jack abbot ever since you started at the hospital, and when you wake up in his bed—alone—after having too many drinks in the park after a particularly bad shift, you finally do something about it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, come marking, hand job, pussy job, dry humping/thigh riding, big dick/tough fit, tit play/nipple sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, pet names (angel), begging, teasing, aftercare, cuddling and snuggling, drinking and drunkenness (nothing happens while reader is drunk), mutual pining. this fic is inspired by the scene of the doctors and nurses drinking in the park after work in the pitt season 1 finale, but it could take place after any rough shift.

word count: 8.3k

a/n: here's my entry for the a doctor a day writing challenge!! thank you to @letsgobarbs, @ananonymousaffair and @clubsoft for hosting this event!! my prompt was "You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss." and my color was orange—and i'm really happy with how this turned out!! technically this is my first proper jack abbot fic (though i'm sure it won't be the last), so i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡♡

The soft orange light of a spring sunrise filtered into the room behind your eyelids, and for one hazy, wonderful moment, you drifted in the contentment that only comes from the liminal space between sleeping and waking. You were ensconced in warm blankets and the smell of earth and sunshine, and you wanted to live in that moment as long as possible.

Then, an almost gentle throbbing began behind your temple, a headache blooming to life as you slipped further into waking. Unbidden, memories from the night before flooded into your mind and you had to bite back a pained groan.

You’d had far too much to drink after work. Or, rather, you’d had too many beers for how exhausted you’d been after your particularly long and terrible shift. But you’d been riding high on surviving the day from hell, and it had been a pleasantly warm evening. And Dr. Jack Abbot had been there.

It had felt like some kind of small miracle—to get to share a couple drinks with the med students, doctors and nurses in the park across the street from the hospital. You hadn’t been the only one laughing too loudly, as if grasping onto the relief of making it through the day, because the alternative was sinking into the darkness.

You’d known that if you’d gone home and dragged yourself into your cold, lifeless apartment that you never had time or energy to decorate, you’d have ended up crying yourself to sleep. Instead, you’d accepted the invitation from your attending, Dr. Michael Robinavitch—Dr. Robby—and joined the others for a drink.

The amber glow of the lamplights lining the paths of the park had been welcoming beacons, and you’d felt the weight of the world slowly slip from your shoulders as you accepted a can of beer, letting the conversation flow around you. As everyone talked, sharing stories from the day, things hadn’t seemed so bleak. 

So you’d lingered in the park long after you should’ve gone home, drinking far more than you should’ve considering how exhausted you were, and letting your eyes drift to Dr. Jack Abbot far more often than they should’ve. You couldn’t help it, though. You’d been drawn to the night shift attending ever since you met him at the start of your first day shift. 

You were Dr. Robby’s resident, and he was a capable mentor—firm when he needed to be, and kind when you needed it. You’d gained a lot working with Dr. Robby on the day shift, and you’d become a much better doctor learning from him and everyone else in the ER.

Yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Dr. Jack Abbot. You’d always admired the older, silver-haired doctor, the way he carried himself, coming in as your shift was ending and taking over easily. You always knew your patients were in good hands when you gave them over to Dr. Abbot. 

He was so competent and capable, and always so calm, even on the busiest nights in the ER. He was like a rock in the middle of a raging, tumultuous storm. Strong and steady. Safe. 

And you wanted to climb Dr. Jack Abbot like a tree, to live in his strong and steady embrace, to allow his presence to keep you safe and sane. You wanted him to be your safe harbor—and to be his, too. You wanted to be the person he’d come home to and slip into bed with, and trust to keep him safe and sane. 

In the park, under the amber lamplights, your thoughts had drifted to the idea of sliding into bed with Dr. Jack Abbot, curling your body around his beneath warm blankets, and sleeping the entire day away as you lay entwined together. You imagined waking up together, warm skin and gentle hands, soft kisses giving way to something more…

You hadn’t realized you were staring until light brown eyes caught yours and you’d startled back into the moment, heat rising up your neck and blooming in your cheeks. You’d known you should look away, but you hadn’t been able to, not with the electric tension thrumming between the two of you like a livewire.

Dr. Jack Abbot was as calm as ever, holding your gaze for a long moment. 

His eyes were dark and inscrutable in the dim light of the park, but you noticed a glint in his gaze that made the breath catch in your throat. There was something in his eyes, something like wanting, which had your heart beating harder against your sternum and warmth pulsing between your thighs. 

Then he’d tipped his can of beer toward you and dipped his head, giving you a nod while a smirk flickered at the edges of his mouth. Something in you had fluttered, low in your belly, and you’d wanted to squirm. You’d wanted to throw yourself at him, hold his face in your hands and kiss him until you were both panting and needy.

Instead you’d looked away and taken a sip of your beer, wondering if you’d imagined the warmth and hunger hidden deep in his gaze. You’d told yourself it must’ve been a trick of the dark amber light, the result of too much exhaustion, too much beer, and too many dirty thoughts about Dr. Jack Abbot.

The night had gone on, time unspooling slowly and leisurely the way it never did in the ER, and you’d drifted along on the current of conversation ebbing and flowing around you. 

You’d tried not to look back at Dr. Abbot too often, but couldn’t help yourself. More often than not, though, you found him already looking at you, that ghost of a smile on his face and that look in his eye that had you questioning your sanity.

At some point, you’d ended up on a bench between Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot, listening as the men commended the work you’d done in the ER that evening. Their words of praise had flitted in one ear and out the other, even as you nodded along like you were paying close attention. 

The smile on your face had everything to do with their praise, and nothing to do with Dr. Abbot’s warmth seeping into your side—at least, that’s what you’d told yourself.

Your memories got hazier from there. You remembered your cheek falling against Dr. Abbot’s shoulder, and staying there as your eyes slid closed; deft fingers gently prying the half-empty can from your hands; the smell of beer and something earthy, like moss; the deep rumbling of Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot’s voices as they talked over your head.

You hadn’t blacked out—you hadn’t had that much to drink—but the rest of the evening was too hazy to make out in your mind. You’d been so tired from working a 15-hour shift, and the alchohol had only exacerbated your exhaustion, leaving you to fall asleep on Dr. Abbot’s shoulder. 

You remembered breathing in the smell of him, an earthy scent that reminded you of hiking in the woods on a bright, sunny day. It was the same scent you were surrounded by in the morning light, your eyes still stubbornly closed as a headache throbbed behind your temple. 

Rolling over and pressing your face into your pillow, you took a deep breath. The fabric smelled so much like Dr. Jack Abbot that it made your head spin with confusion. 

Even as your mind reeled, your body responded to the scent of him, the memory of his caramel brown eyes. You could perfectly picture the way his freckled arms flexed when he crossed them, his t-shirt sleeves hugging his biceps lovingly—the way you wanted to.

Heat cascaded gently down from the crown of your head, coasting down your spine and pooling between your thighs. Even with the slight edge of a hangover at the periphery of your mind, you couldn’t help the way your body yearned for the ER’s night shift attending, wanting him so badly it ached.

Your heart and your body wanted Dr. Jack Abbot. You wanted the older doctor who could be your rock, your light in the darkness, your safe harbor. And neither your heart nor your body would settle for anything less.

Your fingers were just beginning to slip down your stomach, trailing toward the needy, throbbing place between your thighs, when the soft click of a door opening sounded beyond the bed. Your eyes flew open for the first time that morning and, for one disorienting moment, you had no idea where you were.

The orange light of dawn was familiar enough, but the bedsheets and pillows looked nothing like your own. Flipping onto your back and sitting up quickly, you ignored the annoying pang of your headache to peer toward the door.

A sigh of relief gusted from your lips when you found Dr. Jack Abbot framed in the doorway, his brow creased with concern as he raked his eyes over you, as if checking for injury or illness. 

You took the moment to look around the room, taking in the comfortable, masculine decor. Warm wooden furniture occupied the space, with plants positioned around the room in places that you were sure got the most light. A thriving monstera sat in a pot beside the dresser, a goldfish in a glass bowl on top of the wooden ledge.

On the floor next to the open door, there was a camouflage backpack, the only thing that appeared to be out of place. You recognized that backpack as the one Dr. Abbot always wore on his way into work.

Suddenly, your sleep hazy brain caught up and you realized you were in Dr. Abbot’s apartment—you were in his bedroom. In his bed. 

The soft sheets of Dr. Abbot’s bed slid against your bare legs as you brought them up to your chest, his warm, orange duvet draped around your waist. It was the same color as the sunrise that lay beyond the windows, which were half covered in blackout curtains, like he wasn’t sure which way you’d prefer them. 

It was all—all of it—almost too much for your mind to process. The headache behind your temples pounded a little harder as your body caught up to your sudden change of position, and you winced.

The expression of pain on your face seemed to spur Dr. Abbot into moving.

“You’re up,” he said, his voice low and soft like he was trying not to startle you. He padded to the bedside table beside you and set down a glass of water. “Do you remember how you got here?” he asked in that same tone, which you recognized as the one he used as patients. 

You frowned as you watched Dr. Abbot open a bottle of aspirin and shake two pills into his hand. You tried to think of an answer that didn’t make you seem like a silly lightweight of a resident as you plucked the medecine from his palm when he held it out to you. 

A shiver raced down your spine when your fingertips brushed Dr. Abbot’s warm, calloused skin, delightful tingles dancing along your nerves. You attempted to hide your reaction in a shake of your head, answering his question silently. But you couldn’t hide the way your shoulders trembled, so you busied yourself with taking the pills. 

Thankfully, your hand was steady as you reached for the glass on the bedside table and swallowed the aspirin with a gulp of water. The cool water felt like salvation to your parched throat, and you ended up drinking the whole glass before you could even think to stop yourself. 

When you were done, your found Dr. Abbot watching you, a hint of a pleased smile in the twist of his lips and pride in the glint of his gaze. You had the wild thought that if he looked at all his patients that way, you understood why his satisfaction scores were so high. 

He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the movement feeling more deliberate than before. You were grateful when he turned away to set the glass down, because your shoulders trembled with another shiver at the electricity in his light touch.

“You fell asleep in the park,” Dr. Abbot explained in a voice that was endlessly patient and calm as he set the glass down. You noticed your phone beside it on the bedside table, plugged in and charging. “You were so exhausted, we couldn’t send you home on your own. My place was closest.”

Dr. Abbot straightened as he gave his explanation, arms crossing over his chest and staring down at you in a way that made you squirm. He didn’t look disappointed or disapproving, just concerned. And the knowledge that he cared enough to be concerned sent your heart pitter-pattering inside your ribcage.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dr. Abbot,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to your fingers, which were twisting in the blanket on your lap. “Yesterday was…difficult.” 

“Jack, please,” he said, his voice almost imperceptibly softer. 

Your eyes flicked up to him, looking at the silver-haired doctor from under your lashes. His smile was wry and your belly gave a happy little swoop—and that was before you heard his next words.

“You’re in my bed, you don’t need to be so formal.”

It was clear that he meant his words as a teasing kind of joke, but they only succeeded in reminding you that you’d woken up in his bed. Alone. Lamentably alone. The warmth between your thighs stoked higher, until his words fully penetrated your mind.

Your gaze drifted to the other side of the bed, which was still made with military precision. It was clear he hadn’t slept there, and you realized that meant he must’ve slept somewhere else…

“Oh god, I’m so sorry for kicking you out of your bed,” you rushed to say, looking back to Jack with wide eyes. “Where did you sleep?”

“I got a couple hours on the couch,” he answered, a little bashfully. He seemed eager to move on from the subject as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You should get some more rest,” he said, unfurling his arms from his chest and reaching for your empty water glass. “Your scrubs are in the wash with mine, they should be done in a bit.”

A memory from the night before surfaced in your mind: Jack standing with his back to you as you swayed on your feet and stripped out of your scrubs—leaving you in only a tank top, bra and panties. 

You’d removed your bra and left everything in a heap on the floor before dragging yourself under the covers of his bed, snuggling deep into their warmth and his comforting scent. You were asleep before you’d even heard Jack turn around.

Not only had Dr. Jack Abbot taken you to his home so you would be safe, given up his bed so you’d have somewhere comfortable to sleep, but he was washing your scrubs for you. 

There was something about the domesticity of it that pricked at your heart. You could so easily imagine throwing your dirty scrubs into the laundry with a load of Jack’s, washing them together, working side by side to put them away in the room you shared. 

You yearned for the life you pictured—and you wanted it with Dr. Jack Abbot. 

Before you could think about what you were doing, your hand darted out. Your fingers wrapped around Jack’s wrist as he reached for the water glass on the bedside table. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, strong and steady, if a little fast.

“Stay with me.” You hated how small you sounded, the desperate pleading in your voice, but your fingers wouldn’t let go. Instead, you squeezed his wrist tighter. “Please, Jack.”

For a long moment, long enough that you began to think he’d deny you, Jack just stood there. Half hunched over, his hand reaching past you, he stood and looked at you. His eyes stared deep into yours, his brows pulled together over his light brown gaze.

“Are you sure?” 

The question was rough and raspy, like he’d dredged the words up from the very depths of his soul. His eyes were bright and intense as he stared at you, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

The sound of his voice and the weight of his stare sent your heart fluttering, and your thighs squirmed beneath the blankets of his bed. But you weren’t uncomfortable, only eager. You were excited that he hadn’t brushed you off and denied you outright.

“I’m sure,” you said, nodding your head for good measure as you began sliding toward the center of the bed, tugging on Jack’s wrist. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Jack stared into your eyes for a beat longer, then nodded his head. He flipped his hand around in your fingers and squeezed your wrist before pulling away and giving you his back.

You watched the muscles shift and move beneath the white t-shirt Jack wore across his broad shoulders while his hands undid the button and fly of his dark cargo pants. Before your mind could wrap around what he was doing, he was pushing them down, revealing so much more of his pale, freckled skin below the edge of his navy boxer briefs.

Jack shucked off his pants and sat down on the corner of the bed, removing his prosthetic and massaging his leg for a moment while you watched unabashedly, unable to resist the opportunity to look your fill of the doctor you’d thought about for ages. 

You wanted to press yourself against his broad back and wrap your arms around him, clinging to his warmth and burying your face between his shoulder blades. You wanted to hold him and take comfort in him, you wanted to be connected to him.

Looking over his shoulder and breaking you from your thoughts, Jack caught your eye and you could see the question in his gaze. His quirked eyebrows were asking again if you were certain you wanted him to join you.

A smile curled the corners of your mouth and instead of answering him with words, you flipped down the corner of the blankets in a clear invitation. He held your gaze for another moment, but when you remained steady and smiling, he pushed himself up and slipped between the sheets.

Immediately, you felt his warmth and you let out a happy little sound while he settled on his back against the pillows—the same ones you’d pressed your face into after you’d woken up. You waited until he’d gotten comfortable, his gaze finding yours.

His light brown eyes, looking like warm caramel in the soft, tangerine light of morning, were a wondrous sight. It was a miracle, the way he looked at you in that moment, letting you see the hesitant hope in his eyes. 

Slowly, as if seeking permission with every tiny movement, you slid closer to him. With a small, flickering smile, he lifted his arm, making space for you, and you slipped into it delightedly, making another happy sound. 

Your cheek lay pillowed on Jack’s chest, the soft curves of your body pressing into his side. Without questioning the impulse, you slid your leg over Jack’s, hooking it around his thigh and shifting even closer, until you were practically plastered to his body. 

Contentment settled heavily around your shoulders, and you took a deep breath, letting Jack’s earthy, sunshiny scent fill your senses and comfort you. As you exhaled, your body softened and you snuggled deeper into the older doctor’s chest.

Jack’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers settling on the bare skin of your arm, and you made another delighted noise. His fingertips trailed lazily up and down your arm, like he was learning the softness of your skin, and he made a rumble in his chest that sounded content.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice even deeper and raspier than you’d ever heard it.

The tenor of Jack’s voice sent little sparks of desire dancing down your spine to settle between your thighs. He wasn’t using the voice he used on his patients anymore, and you couldn’t be happier that you were seeing a new side to him, one you suspected few ever got to see.

“Mhm, sooo comfortable,” you mumbled, hiding an elated grin in his chest. 

It was true, you’d never been more comfortable, but you couldn’t seem to ignore the restless need in your body. You squirmed a little against Jack’s side, like you were trying to find an even better position, and all the while enjoying the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs.

A soft, bitten-off whine squeezed from your throat and you shifted even closer to the older doctor, needing more of him pressed against more of you. 

“Jack,” you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his cotton t-shirt while your hips writhed against his side, your body searching for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

“You need something, angel?” Jack asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. When you lifted your head to pout at him, his eyes were hooded, and his mouth was curved into a knowing smirk. “You need some help before you can settle down and sleep?”

The hint of patronizing teasing in his tone was like a drug, making your mind go hazy and soft while your body melted in his strong arms. Your lashes fluttered as you fought to keep your eyes open, biting your lip while heat flooded your cheeks.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded in answer to Jack’s question. 

Jack’s eyes dipped to your mouth, the warmth in your face cascading down your body until it settled heavily between your thighs. You could feel yourself growing damp, your nipples hardening and pressing against the thin fabric of your tank top. 

But all you could do was stare at Jack’s mouth, framed by grizzled cheeks and freckled skin. How many times had you thought about kissing that mouth? Too many times to count. And you could hardly breathe when it seemed you might finally get to make your dreams come true.

Slowly—oh, so slowly, Jack’s hand came up and cupped your jaw, his head rising from the pillows as you leaned into him at the same time. Your mouths were drawing infinitesimally closer and closer like there was some kind of magnetic pull between them. 

He tilted your face until your mouths were aligned, and then your lips brushed his. Sparks zinged through your body and you sucked in a sharp breath at just that little touch, your exhale slipping from your lips in a keening, desperate sound. 

Whatever was left of Jack’s self-control seemed to snap, and he crushed his mouth to yours, as if intent on drinking down that needy sound while a hungry groan rumbled in his chest. Another whimper was silenced by his mouth, and you pressed even closer, like you wanted to crawl inside his heart. 

Your first kiss with Dr. Jack Abbot was hungry and greedy, with an edge of mutual adoration that made you light-headed. 

Jack’s hands on your body were strong and steady, but for the slight tremor in his fingers, his mouth careful and hot as he explored yours. When his tongue licked into your heat, dragging a moan from you, he huffed a pleased sound, angling your face so he could kiss you deeper, more thoroughly. 

Your hips rocked against the older doctor’s thigh as you tried to squirm closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and clinging to him while you whimpered into his mouth. Jack responded by trailing his hands down your back, curving around your ribs and dragging your body more on top of him.

“Oh god, Jack,” you panted, gasping for air while his mouth trailed kisses down the line of your neck. You tipped your head to the side, giving him more access as your wanton moans filled the room. “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

The confession spilling from your lips had Jack slowing, and even though you were practically on top of him, he eased back into the pillows so he could catch your eye. The light in the room was shifting from a honey orange to a golden yellow, but Jack’s eyes were still bright and warm like caramel as he stared into yours as he spoke.

“You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss.”

The depth of emotion in his words, the evidence that he felt the same way you did, brought unexpected tears to your eyes and you cupped his face. His silvery stubble was rough against your palms as you surged forward, capturing his mouth in a rapturous kiss.

“You’re mine, too,” you mumbled against his mouth before pulling away to look at him so he could see the honesty in your gaze. “You’re my calm, my safe harbor, my happiness and heart.”

“Angel.” 

The endearment was rough and ragged, an undercurrent of pleading in Jack’s tone as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in. He kissed you harder, stealing the words freely given from your lips and locking them away in his heart—just like you’d done with his.

Emotion swirled in your chest and you nearly sobbed with need at the wet slide of Jack’s tongue between your lips, your mind going hazy as an aching need pulsed between your thighs. A desperate whine built in your throat, your hips squirming clumsily against his thigh. 

Jack’s hands trailed down your spine, deviating from their path to slide beneath your tank top and curl around your ribs, his thumbs brushing the soft mounds of your tits. You huffed a needy whimper, feeling him smirk against your mouth, before his hands slid lower, his strong grip guiding your body to writhe against his thick thigh.

Your hips rocked in time with his guided movements, grinding your core against him while you whimpered into his mouth. You were so far gone in a pleasant haze of your desire, that you didn’t pay attention to what you were saying when you whined, “Daddy, please.”

There was the briefest stutter in Jack’s movements, and then his hands gripped you tighter, his thigh pressing deeper between your legs. Against your lips, his mouth curved into an indulgent smirk. 

“Please what, angel? Tell daddy what you need.” 

The patronizing teasing tone had slipped back into his voice, and it made your core throb between your thighs, a whimper escaping your lips before you could bite it back. It had been a slip of the tongue that you’d called him daddy, but to hear it echoed in his deep, raspy voice was another thing entirely. It was exactly what you needed.

Your fingers gripped his shirt tighter, your body squirming harder in his hands, rolling your hips and grinding against his thigh while you finally responded to his command.

“Need you,” you huffed, as if the answer was obvious. 

A gruff chuckle rumbled in Jack’s chest and his hand slid up your back, thumb skimming the curve of your breast so teasingly, your body chased his touch. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits against his chest, but Jack’s hand kept moving. His calloused palm followed the line of your arm until his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist. 

Gently, he moved your hand down his front, over his soft belly, until your palm settled against the twitching bulge in his boxer briefs. He felt so thick and heavy already, even though he wasn’t fully hard yet.

“This is what you do to me, angel,” he rasped, breath ghosting over your cheek, his mouth moving against the corner of your lips. “You have me—any time, any way you want.” 

Your fingers wrapped around his girth through the soft cotton of his briefs, squeezing him gently and learning the weight of him in your hand. You stroked your palm up his length, thumb swiping over the tip and feeling the wetness of his arousal.

Jack grunted, his hips rising up off the bed to buck into your touch and the movement had his thigh flexing and pressing between your legs. You moaned into his stubbled cheek, the sound mingling with his heavy breaths as you stroked his length and rocked against him. 

“Jack.” His name was a gasp for salvation, a desperate plea on your lips that had him shuddering under your touch.

“Nuh uh, angel,” Jack chided in an endlessly warm tone, his smile pressed into the corner of your mouth. “Don’t stop calling me daddy now—not when it makes me so fucking hot for you.”

“Daddy, daddy,” you babbled breathlessly into his scruffy cheek, your desire thick in your veins at the teasing command in his tone. “I need you inside me, please—please, I need you so bad,” you whined, your fingers squeezing his cock through his boxers.

“Christ, you’ve got me, angel, just take me out,” Jack rumbled, his hips rocking up against your palm while you worked his length. 

Not needing more invitation than that, you reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. He was still hardening and thickening beneath your touch, the velvety soft skin growing taut the tighter you stroked him. 

Jack groaned at your pleasurable attention, and the sound went straight to the slit between your thighs, your arousal leaking into your panties. You were so drenched, you were certain he could feel it against his thigh, but when you rubbed your pussy against him, he only grunted, his cock twitching in your hand.

“Want more,” you keened against Jack’s stubbled cheek, both your heads tilted to stare down your bodies and watch your hand pump adoringly up and down his length while he grew harder beneath your touch. “Want your fat cock sinking into my needy pussy, daddy, please.”

“Fuuuck,” Jack groaned, the edge in his voice almost pained. His hips bucked off the bed as he fucked into your fist, precum beading at the tip and leaking down the side, slicking your strokes. “Keep talking like that, angel, and I’m gonna blow my load before I even get inside you.”

“But daddy, we can’t have that,” you whined teasingly, laughing softly as you turned your face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Then you were pulling away only long enough to shove your panties down over your ass and thighs, kicking them off into the sheets at the base of the bed. Once done, your hand wrapped around Jack’s cock again, greedy for the feel of him, loving the weight and warmth against your palm. 

Sliding your leg over both of Jack’s thighs, you moved your body until you were straddling his hips, your hand guiding his cock to press between the slippery folds of your slit. Your wet pussy pressing down on the length of his thick cock, your clit bumping against the ridged veins lining the shaft, had both of you moaning.

Jack cupped your jaw and guided your face back to his, his tongue sliding along your plump lower lip and licking lovingly into your mouth. He kissed you deeply, devouring your sounds of pleasure and groaning his own satisfaction like he’d never tasted anything as sweet—and he couldn’t get enough.

His other hand slid beneath the soft cotton of your tank top, his thumb brushing over your nipple and teasing the sensitive bud until it tightened into an achy, needy peak. Heat and desire pooled between your thighs, leaking from your pussy and coating his length as you rocked against him.

You broke apart only long enough for Jack to tear off your top, tossing it somewhere in the room you didn’t see because you were too busy slanting your mouth to his and greedily kissing him again. Your lips were swollen from kissing, but you couldn’t stop, you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him.

It felt like the opposite of standing in the calm center of a storm—your body was a riot of pleasure and sensation, desperately rocking against the man between your thighs while the bedroom around you remained undisturbed, the light shifting and glowing brighter as the sun rose outside. 

And Dr. Jack Abbot was still your rock, your tether to the earth, grounding you with the rasp of his calloused hands over your soft curves, his expert fingers plucking and stroking your nipples while his hips lifted from the mattress to grind his hard cock into your cunt. 

You were so wet for him, so empty and aching, your pussy pulsed against his hard length, your desire coating him from root to tip. A sob was lodged in your throat, your hips working against his thick shaft in increasingly desperate movements. 

“Jack,” you cried, the sound pitiful even to your own ears. You needed him, you needed him more than you needed your next breath. And you knew he could hear it in the ragged edge of your voice as you sobbed his name. 

Thankfully for you, Jack Abbot was just as much of a competent, capable man as he was a doctor. He heard the anxious wanting in your tone and knew exactly how to handle you. He stroked his hands soothingly over your ribs and down your spine, cooing soft sounds of comfort against your cheek. 

“Take me inside your sweet pussy, angel,” Jack rumbled, the steel of his order softened in the honeyed warmth of his tone. “Let me feel you—need to feel your heat hugging my cock.”

“Daddy, yesss, please, can I?” you babbled, burying your face in the weathered skin of his neck. His scent was stronger there, and you huffed greedily, breathing in the smell of sunshine and earth on his skin. It filled your head with amber clouds of comfort. 

“Go on, angel, you’ve got this,” Jack murmured encouragingly, the calm warmth of his voice settling around your shoulders like the coziest blanket. He pressed a kiss to the pulse at the base of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed on a exhale, shifting your hips until the tip of his cock caught at the entrance of your leaking hole. Sitting up on your knees, you lifted your hips and guided his cock to line up with your pussy. Then you pressed down determinedly.

A breathy cry burst from your lips when the fat tip of Jack’s cock pushed into your tight channel. He was thicker than anyone you’d taken before, and your heart fluttered against your ribcage in panic, the devastating thought occurring to you that he might not be able to fit.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re so big, Jack, I don’t know if I can—”

“You can take me,” Jack said firmly, interrupting your panicked babbling as he sat up to face you. He caught your wobbling chin in his steady hand and guided your eyes to look at him. “You can take me, angel,” he repeated, ducking his head and looking at you with confidence and pride written in the lines of his face. “You can do this.”

The belief Jack had in you—even about something as base as taking his cock—was enough to have tears gathering in your eyes. Your lower lip quivered and instead of giving in to the spiraling thoughts about how no one else had ever believed in you the way Jack did in that moment, you surged forward and kissed him. 

You kissed Jack Abbot the way you’d never kissed anyone before. You kissed him like he was your past, present and future, like he was the calm in the storm of your life. You kissed him like he was your safe harbor, the steady dock under your feet and the man who was your home. 

All the while, Jack kissed you in return, meeting the fervor of your lips with an adoration that had your heart singing in your chest. With every sweep of his tongue and nip of his teeth and pull of his mouth, he exulted your existence and promised devotion for as long as you’d have him. 

“Jack,” you gasped his name, wrenching your bee-stung lips from his as you pressed down further on his cock, incandescent pleasure radiating from where you were joined through the rest of your body.

“Feel so good, angel,” Jack rasped, kissing his way down the curve of your throat and past your collarbone. His mouth left goose bumps in its wake as he trailed kisses down to your chest. “More, angel, you can take more.”

Jack’s words were muffled in the plush curves of your tits, cupped in his big, strong hands. His head ducked down until his tongue was lapping at their tightened peaks, torturing the sensitive buds while your head tipped back and you moaned. He sucked one of your soft tits into his mouth, tongue swirling teasingly around your nipple.

Your back bowed and you thrust your chest into Jack’s face, your fingers sliding into his curly silver hair and clutching his head tight. A cry of pleasure tumbled from your lips, the sound devolving into a filthy moan as you sank down on his cock, taking half of him inside you. 

“God, daddy, you’re breaking me in half,” you whined, your hips writhing in his lap, lifting up and pushing back down for more of the stinging stretch. The pleasure bordered on pain, but it felt so good, you couldn’t get enough, pressing even further down on his hard cock.

Jack chuckled, pulling away from your chest with an obscene wet sound, your tit falling from his mouth while he looked up at you. His brown eyes were sparkling with mischief in the bright daylight.

“You love it, don’t you, angel?” Jack teased, in the warm, patronizing tone that sent your belly swooping. “You love the feeling of my fat cock sinking deep into your pretty cunt, splitting you open and spreading you so wide, huh?”

The filthy words went straight to your pussy, your tight hole pulsing around Jack’s hard shaft while you nodded your agreement. “Yuh huh, I love it, daddy, it’s sooo good,” you babbled, your fingers idly twisting in Jack’s hair as you clung to him and pressed your hips down on his thick length.

A small grin pulled across his face and he caught your eye, wrapping his lips around your other nipple and sucking hard enough to wring a squeal from your mouth. Your body bucked on his lap, and it was only his sinewy arm around your lower back that kept you anchored on top of him.

Spreading your knees wider on the bed, you pressed down hard on Jack’s cock until you were fully seated. The full, fat length of him was buried inside you to the hilt, stretching your tight cunt and punching the breath from your lungs. 

A surprised yelp slipped from your lips at the sudden, overwhelming fullness, but the sound soon dissolved into a deep, dirty moan when the slight sting gave way to scorching pleasure. Your body melted against Jack, his head lifting from your tits to take in the look of ecstasy on your face. 

“There we go,” Jack rasped, one of his hands pressing to your lower back, keeping your bodies locked together and still for a moment. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” he teased, capturing your lips in a playful, nipping kiss. 

You huffed a laugh against his mouth, and shook your head good-naturedly, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you clung to your strong, steady doctor.

Jack pressed his forehead to yours, his voice lowering to deep rasp. “You’re taking me so good, angel—you’re such a good girl.” He brushed a kiss to the apple of your cheek, and it was only then that you realized you were smiling, pleased by his praise. “Are you ok, does it feel good?”

“Mm, yes, daddy,” you murmured, sinking into the feeling of having Jack’s thick cock seated inside you, pleasure pulsing from where you were joined. “Feel so good filled up with your cock—you fill me up so good, I wanna stay right here forever.” 

Your mumbled words were half lost to a moan as you rocked your hips gently, feeling his shaft drag ever so gently against your inner walls. It was intense and wonderful and felt so good, you couldn’t stop. 

Jack’s hands fell to your hips, and he gripped your soft curves, helping you grind down on him. 

“That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his own hips rolling beneath yours, bringing your bodies together in a delicious push and pull that wrenched a pleasured grunt from him. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight and you feel so fucking good—so wet and warm. You’re making daddy feel so good.”

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you chanted, lips parted and breaths panting against Jack’s grizzled cheeks as you bounced on his lap. Still, you wanted more, and you knew Jack would give it to you, all you had to do was ask. “Will you suck on my tits, daddy, please?”

“Fuck, of course, angel,” Jack rumbled in response, his head ducking down, mouth latching onto a nipple and sucking until your hips gave a reflexive kick. “Ya like it when daddy sucks on your tits, angel? Your perfect fucking tits.” 

His words were muttered, almost like he was talking to himself, and he didn’t wait for an answer before burying his face in your soft mounds. His lips and tongue worshiped your tits, showing you just how much he adored your body.

“Yes, yes, daddy, I love it,” you cried, rocking your hips faster, rolling them in a steady rhythm that had your clit grinding against the base of him. The pleasure was building fast in your core, until you were suddenly on the precipice. “Please, Jack, ‘m so close.”

 “Come on my cock, angel—fuck, I wanna feel you clench around my fat cock while you’re screaming my name,” Jack rambled in between wet, suckling kisses to your soft flesh. His hands cupped your tits, thumbs stroking maddeningly over your nipples before pinching them roughly. “C’mon angel, give it to me, show me what a good girl you are and come for me.”

“Jack—JACK!” 

His words and his cock and his hands and his perfect mouth sent you tumbling over the edge of your release, making you come on his cock. Your hips worked furiously as pleasure crashed over you in waves, helpless moans and cries spilling from your lips while Jack held you tight and thrust into you from below. 

He was hot and hard and everywhere, his thick cock still deep inside you, his arms wrapped around you, his chest and belly pressed against your soft curves. He was the calm in the center of the storm that was your release, and he carried you through it, whispering words of praise in your ear. 

You were still coming down from the height of your pleasure when Jack rolled you onto your back, his hips sliding between your thighs and thrusting his cock deep into you. It felt so good that you moaned loudly, your arms and legs wrapping around Jack and holding him as he fucked you, chasing his release. 

“You’re such a good girl, angel, taking me so well and coming on my cock like such a pretty slut. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you, never felt anything as perfect. You’re perfect, angel, so fucking perfect—fuck.” 

Jack bit off a groan and pulled his cock from your tight cunt. He stroked himself to completion, his come spilling across your belly and mound between your thighs while you watched pleasure contort his face. 

He let out a fierce grunt, his shoulders shaking and arms shuddering as he hunched over your body. The hand not wrapped around his cock was gripping your thigh tightly—like, for once, you were his rock, his anchor tethering him to earth.

Bathed in the bright golden light of morning filtering into his bedroom, he looked magnificent, and you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed Jack’s face and pulled him down for a kiss, tasting the pleasure from his tongue. 

His knuckles brushed your bare skin, more come leaking from the tip of his cock and onto your belly. He was covering you in ropes of his come, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were moving against yours in a sensual slide, his tongue slipping possessively into your mouth and groaning his pleasure.

With a final pull on his cock and one last kiss, Jack rolled off you, collapsing onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes while his chest heaved. He was still wearing his t-shirt and you pouted at it.

Still gasping for your own breaths, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of Jack’s shirt and raked your nails through the hair dusting his belly. He let out a shuddering breath, his cock twitching as another drop of come leaked from the tip of his softening length, seeping into the cotton shirt.

If you weren’t so limp and sated—and you weren’t afraid of making a mess of Jack’s bed with the come slowly drying on your skin—you would’ve leaned over and licked him clean. But that could wait for another time, when you both weren’t so tired.

Jack settled a hand on the back of yours, stilling your fingers where they were softly stroking his belly and giving them an affectionate squeeze. 

After a few moments of catching your breath together, he heaved himself up and reached an arm over his shoulders to yank off his shirt. He rolled onto his side and used the soft shirt to clean you up while you giggled happily.

“You good, angel?” Jack asked, his face hovering above yours, dark caramel eyes searching your expression for anything amiss.

A soft smile curved your mouth and you reached up to cup Jack’s grizzled cheeks, thumbs stroking over his skin. “I’m good,” you murmured, lifting up and pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth. “Thanks for pulling out—I can’t believe I forgot to tell you to use a condom.”

Jack made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, but it was softened by the teasing smile on his face. “Not very responsible of you, doctor,” he said in a deep, playful rasp that had you laughing.

“Don’t act like you didn’t forget, too, Dr. Abbot,” you retorted, batting good-naturedly at his shoulder. He laughed along with you before sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.

“Do you need anything while I’m up?” he asked, putting on his prosthetic then standing and tossing his soiled shirt into the laundry. He paused at the foot of the bed to wait for your answer.

Lifting your arms above your head, you stretched languidly in the warm sheets of Dr. Jack Abbot’s bed, smiling like the cat that got the cream as you reveled in the feeling of him watching you unabashedly. 

It felt like warm, orange flames of flickering heat licking at your skin, his eyes bright and intense in the morning light as they trailed over every inch of your bare skin and naked curves. That adoration you’d felt in his arms was clear in the gleam of his eye and the slightly awed smile on his face. 

“I could use some more water,” you finally answered, exhaling deeply as you relaxed and settled into the bed. You were eager for him to return so he’d wrap you back up in his arms, and you could snuggle together.

“You got it,” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he wrenched his eyes away from you and seemed to force himself to walk out of the room. 

While he was gone, you got up and went to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up a little better. When you were washing your hands, you heard a knock on the door before it opened a crack.

“Got you a shirt if you want something to wear,” Jack said, opening the door only enough for his arm to slip in. He hung a t-shirt on the hook by the door and then closed it again. 

With a smile, you dried your hands and slid the soft cotton shirt over your head. It was plain white like the one he’d had on earlier, but clean, and it smelled like his earthy, sunshiny scent. You took a deep breath of the fabric, your nipples tightening and pushing against the fabric as warm pleasure flooded you down to your toes.

But then you remembered the man himself was waiting for you, and you eagerly exited the bathroom, finding Jack reclined against the pillows on his bed. He was sipping a glass of water, another full glass on the bedside table for you. You picked it up and drank half before setting it back down and climbing into bed.

Without hesitation, Jack lifted his arm and you slid into the space next to him. The two of you settled beneath the blankets together, your head laying on Jack’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your fingers idly traced the veins and freckles of his other arm, brushing through the hair dusted across his skin.

Outside, the soft, suffused orange light of dawn had given way to the bright, blinding light of morning. The sun was still climbing higher in the sky, but you and Jack needed rest. 

So your bodies relaxed together, laying entwined in each other’s arms. You drifted to sleep in the calm, still bedroom while the rest of Pittsburgh carried on in the world beyond. 

From that day on, Dr. Jack Abbot was your rock, your calm in the storm, the man whose arms were your home. He was your safe harbor. And you were his.

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 2] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), some wine, almost kiss, mentioning ex-boyfriend, Reader feels insecure

A/N: I'm giving you this chapter. Be gentle with me, please. I don't have much to say, except that I'd like to thank every single person who left a sign under the first chapter. I was afraid to write this, but with you it's somehow easier. Thank you,

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

"Harry asked about you." Susan leaned out from behind the monitor and looked at you over her glasses. "You're fifteen minutes late."

"I know!" you groaned, throwing your bag on the desk. "The whole street was jammed. I was texting him."

"I know, he told me. But he asked anyway." she smiled, reaching for the cup of coffee you brought her. "Thank you, honey. You know, that guy would die without you. Me too."

“He'll be fine. He's Harry Castillo, he'll always be fine.” You replied, trying to calm your breathing and smoothing your skirt with your hand. “How do I look?”

“Like you ran three blocks to get here.”

“I did!” you laughed, glancing toward the glass doors leading to Harry’s office. “Okay, wish us luck.”

You entered Mr. Castillo's large office and immediately noticed him talking on the phone, leaning against one of the windows. He nodded to you in greeting without interrupting the conversation, then pointed to the folder lying on his desk. You quickly put it in your bag.

“I could send a car for you,” he said, pocketing his phone, frowning. “Did you run here?”

“A lot of people run in the morning. Are we ready? Mr. McCullen should be in his office in an hour.”

Harry took his jacket off the chair and put it on. You quickly walked over to him and straightened his tie. "I'm ready now."

The offer had landed on Castillo's desk out of the blue, but it was so good it piqued his interest. Mr. McCullen's company was about to be sold, and Harry was considering buying it. You didn't have much time to prepare, since your sources told you there were a lot of companies interested. 

However, everything was going to go your way that day. You had arrived at the company building early, so you quickly mumbled, "I have to go to the bathroom," and disappeared down one of the hallways leading from the conference room.

You were already washing your hands when you heard a quiet sob in one of the toilets. You anxiously wiped your hands on a paper towel and cleared your throat. "Excuse me? Is everything okay?"

The sobbing came from the last stall, where you noticed a pair of shapely legs in red heels. "Ummm... Do you need anything? A tampon or a tissue?"

The stall door opened and a young girl with swollen eyes stepped out. She sniffled and blew her nose into the toilet paper she was holding. “You can’t help me…” she said in a hoarse voice. “Until you find me a new job.”

"Oh! You know... You shouldn't worry so much about work, it's just..." you started, but the girl rolled her eyes. You clearly didn't understand her at all.

“I should care, because I’m about to lose my job!” she groaned. “I’m only working for this company until the boss closes this stupid deal, and then he’s moving to Los Angeles. That idiot got himself into so much debt…” she shook her head. A cold chill ran down your arms.

"What are you talking about?" you asked. "Not Mr. McCullen, right?"

She leaned against the counter and wiped her red nose, then crossed her arms over her chest. “His company is a bottomless pit. He’s desperate to sell it, and the guy buying it is a fucking idiot. He doesn’t even know what he’s signing up for.”

It was your second run of the day, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway as you made your way to the conference room, but then your heart stopped. Harry was already sitting inside with two other men.

Everyone was chatting happily, or so it seemed to you, because the men were sitting with their backs to you, and all you could see was your boss's face.

"You can't go in there now." the female voice rang out as you grabbed the door handle.

“I’m Mr. Castillo’s assistant,” you said firmly, but the woman sitting behind the desk just tilted her head, unimpressed, looking you up and down appraisingly.

"I don't care. I said you can't go in there."

You huffed angrily and reached into your bag. You clenched your hand around your phone and a moment later you were dialing Harry's number. He must have felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket because he looked up and saw you behind the glass wall. He shook his head slightly.

“Shit!” you hissed. You had to think of something. You pulled out your folder and grabbed the first sheet of paper, then pulled out a pen.

Harry's brown eyes widened when he saw the piece of paper in your hands that said "BULLSHIT! DEBTS!"

one year earlier

You glanced around the hallway and took a deep breath, clutching your briefcase like it was a lifeline. The pretty brunette sitting across from you smiled, but you were so nervous you could barely lift the corners of your mouth.

How were you supposed to compete with them? Each of the five women waiting with you outside the glass doors to Mr. Castillo's office was simply beautiful and certainly had excellent references. And you? Your inner critic certainly had her hands full.

An hour passed, a very long hour. You were alone now, and the woman sitting behind the monitor glanced at you from time to time.

"He won't eat you alive, sweetie." she finally said.

"Huh?" you looked up, looking at her with fear. "You think so?"

"I've been working for him for a few years now. Just be yourself, girl."

You looked down at your nervously twisted fingers. It wasn't good advice.

Finally the girl came out of the office and you were invited in. The office was spacious and brightly lit by the rays of the setting sun. Behind the solid desk you saw a man, he was already over forty years old, broad shoulders, a prominent nose and a charming smile. He looked up from the paper and you saw beautiful brown eyes.

Your name flowed from his lips. "Please take a seat, it won't take long."

You sat on the edge of the chair feeling like your soul had already left your body. Mr. Castillo was looking at what must have been your job application.

"You don't have much experience." he said, there was no disapproval in it, more curiosity. "Why did you decide to apply?"

You barely recognized your voice when you spoke. "Can I be honest?"

Mr. Castillo made a gesture with his hand as if he was encouraging you to do so.

"I need a job. I know I don't have much experience as an assistant, not as much as previous candidates, I'm sure, but it's either that or going back to customer service."

"Mhm." he mumbled, rubbing his chin with his finger.

“Mr. Castillo.” Brown eyes focused on you again. “You’re looking for an assistant. I spent over an hour outside your office and saw other candidates. They’re beautiful women with references, and I understand that I can’t compete with them, but… I’m hardworking, loyal, and a quick learner. If you give me a chance, I assure you that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re not disappointed.”

“I like your energy,” Castillo murmured, leaning back in his leather chair.

“Yeah? It’s more like desperation.”

He chuckled, and you finally smiled back. You stared at each other for a few seconds until Castillo finally closed the folder in front of him and reached for his phone, signaling that the conversation was over.

"Thank you for giving me your time." he said politely. "We'll call you back."

You nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you and goodbye,” before quickly leaving the office, your legs feeling like jelly. The walk to the elevator wasn’t memorable, nor was the entire ride down.

You knew you had fucked up this interview. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wanted to wait until you were outside the building to cry. As you stood on the sidewalk, you took a deep breath and a sob tore itself from your throat. You felt pathetic, small, and weak. What were you even thinking, coming here, standing in front of this office? Fuck. You idiot.

The phone in your pocket vibrated and you rolled your eyes reaching for it, you couldn't even cry in peace anymore.

"Yes?" you said, not caring how you sounded.

“Hello, this is Harry Castillo. We spoke a few minutes ago.” A pleasant male voice spoke on the other end, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Would you be interested in starting work on Monday?”

“Mrs. Diane Kruger-Waltz will be here next week. She would like to meet with you.”

Harry handed you a glass of wine and sat down on the couch next to you with a quiet sigh. “Okay, let me know when she’s available. We’ll work it out.”

You took a sip and set the glass down on the small coffee table, then quickly typed something on your computer. It was a pleasant, albeit rainy evening. After returning from Mr. McCullen's, Harry met with his accountants, who confirmed the information you had received in the ladies' room. 

You both breathed a sigh of relief, this deal would cost the company millions and you didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be.

To celebrate this small success, if you could call it that, Castillo made a call to one of the best restaurants and ordered a takeaway. They didn't do that, but they made an exception for their regular customer. And then both of you, avoiding the slowly intensifying rain, hid on the couch in his spacious living room.

"Done." You announced, closing your laptop and putting it aside. "You should get your suit from the cleaners tomorrow morning. The sponsors' party starts at six in the afternoon, so you should be able to make it."

"I'll pick you up twenty minutes early, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready."

You sighed quietly and rubbed your forehead with your hand. It had been a long and hectic day. No wonder Harry had changed into sweatpants in search of comfort in his own apartment. Your clothes suddenly seemed extremely uncomfortable to you.

"What's going on?" he asked, feeling and seeing you shift nervously.

"Nothing. It's just... I'm tired, you know, every seam in my clothes irritates me." You mumbled.

"I already told you to keep something more comfortable at my place." you rolled your eyes and Harry chuckled "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not keeping my clothes in the boss's apartment." you replied, taking a sip of cold wine "That's unprofessional."

"Now this," he pointed at himself and you sitting on his couch, "that's professional, right?"

"Oh, never mind." you snorted but couldn't hide your smile and after a moment Harry also chuckled.

He liked spending time with you. There was something about it that made him feel free, like he could take off his tie and just be himself. Yes, he was a mature man, he knew his worth, but with you, a lot of things just seemed easier. Like he didn't have to pretend to follow rules and regulations. He didn't have that with other employees, only with you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You already did." you replied, and seeing his face you lightly nudged him in the shoulder "Sure, ask."

"What was between you and Daniel? Of course, if you don't want to, you don't have to answer, but I was wondering... You seemed really upset after you met him."

You were silent for a moment and Harry thought that he might have crossed some line. Maybe the question was too intimate, too personal. But finally he heard your voice.

"We met through mutual friends. He started as a lawyer, quickly climbing the career ladder. I did my own thing, you know, but I wasn't as flashy as he was. We were together for two years, I think..." you closed your eyes, wrinkling your nose slightly as if you wanted to remember something, Harry was silent, watching you

"I was really in love. I supported him in everything he did, I practiced what he was supposed to say with him, ironed his shirts and stuff like that. I totally gave myself to him... At one of the parties he met Beth. I wasn't there because I had to be at work, the boss wouldn't let me off. Beth is different from me, better than me, you saw it yourself."

You smiled, looking at Harry, but the corners of his mouth barely twitched. He was staring at you attentively, listening carefully to every word. You lowered your gaze. 

"Daniel started dating her. He didn't even tell Beth he was in a relationship... I found out by accident. It was like a slap in the face. We started arguing and he blamed everything on me... I believed him. I believed every word he said. I was in a bad place at the time." 

You fell silent again for a moment, those memories must still be hurting you. A little hesitantly, but Harry reached out and squeezed your forearm in a supportive gesture. You smiled slightly.

"Huh! We broke up, of course. Daniel got together with Beth, officially. She was and still is a beautiful woman by his side, now carrying their child. It took me longer to get myself together and now I'm here. I'm drinking wine with my boss and telling him the pathetic story of my relationship."

You wanted to laugh, but just like that time at the wedding, the laughter died in your throat. Harry leaned slightly towards you, his voice calm and soothing.

"Daniel told you that you were a lot to handle?"

You nodded and quickly put your hand to your cheek, trying to wipe away a tear unnoticed.

"I'm sorry." Harry said quickly, placing a hand on your shoulder and caressing you "I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's okay!" you replied quickly, although your voice trembled "I'm telling it for the first time in so long, huh, I thought I was over it. But it hurt a little when I saw him, with her, so happy."

"Yeah, I understand that."

You finally looked at him, smiling even though your eyes were slightly red from the tears that had gathered in them. Your hand found his, squeezing it lightly.

"It's okay, really. Don't worry. I'm even glad you asked. I haven't talked about it with anyone. It's good to get it off my chest."

"I still feel guilty." Harry mumbled.

"Unnecessarily, really." You drank the wine to the end and put the glass on the table. "It's a bit embarrassing, sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything. To be fair, Daniel should apologize to you. He shouldn't have done that, he should have been honest with you from the beginning."

You waved your hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter anymore, Harry. I'm in a different place now. I have a cool job, my boss is okay too. I manage somehow."

You both laughed quietly until silence reigned again. And then Harry decided to say what had been on his mind for some time. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but when would there ever be one? He was still holding your hand, you were sitting so close, and he felt like he had to get it out.

"You're not a lot to handle." You looked up at him, surprised. "To tell you the truth, I think it was my lucky day when you showed up in my office for the first time. Remember?"

"This is embarrassing too, Harry. Let's not go back to this." You said, the corners of your mouth twitching even though your eyes were still scared. You waited to hear what he was getting at and you felt fear welling up inside you.

"It wasn't your fault. And you're not a lot to handle. Don't even believe it. You're worth so much more..."

You stared at him as if enchanted. Harry had such wonderful eyes, you noticed it from the first day, and since then you reminded yourself of it every now and then. And in that moment you saw almost everything in them - care, sincerity, sympathy.

"Don't say that, or I'll fall in love with you." You joked, but he didn't laugh.

"Would that be so bad?"

Something tightened your throat when you saw him leaning closer to you. He was too close, your lips inches apart, his scent filling your nostrils. "I have to go." You blurted out quickly and jumped up, freeing your hand from his.

"I..." Harry began uncertainly, but you had already grabbed your laptop and quickly shoved it into your bag "Listen, I didn't want to..."

"It's totally okay!" you said a little too quickly and too nervously, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slipping your shoes on "I really have to go now."

Harry wanted to say something else, but his head was completely empty. So he just watched as you gathered your things, threw a quick "See you!" and headed for the exit, closing the door quietly behind you.

Harry fell onto the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands, letting out a quiet groan.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @nrschuster30 @maried01 @lunariantears @thatesqcrush @suzysface @youkeeno @legoemma @nuo0n @sarahhxx03 @hazzzy418 @pedrofan @peepawispunk @readingiskeepingmegoing @maryfanson @anoverwhelmingdin @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @axshadows @picketniffler @underneath-the-sky-again @kaysfanficcorner @noisynightmarepoetry @xmaykeca @orcasoul @sincerelywithheartt

the luckiest bastard in pittsburgh

pairing: dr. jack abbot x coffee shop night shift worker!female reader

this is mostly fluff but there's some allusions to smut/18+ content toward the end so minors do not interact!!!

a/n: i finished the pitt the other night and have been consumed with dr. jack abbot as a character and thinking about what he'd be like in a relationship. because he's such a capable doctor, but he seems like he's kind of a mess in every other aspect of his life, and i love the idea of him being a bit of a bumbling mess while falling in love. so here are some thoughts about all that.

if y'all enjoy this, i'm thinking of rewriting it as a proper series, potentially showing both points of view, and diving deeper into the smutty bits that would come later. so if you're interested in that, do let me know!

Dr. Jack Abbot doesn't even like coffee that much, even if it helps him get through the night shift. Jack finds comfort in the darkness, but on the rough nights, when the horror seems endless, it's your pretty smile that really gets him through till dawn...

it isn't long after he first sees you at the small café next to the hospital that Jack starts getting coffee every night, either stopping in before his shift or ducking out from the ER for a cup of black coffee in the early hours of the morning—if he can pull himself away.

he finds himself making excuses to linger in the coffee shop, asking you whether you enjoy the night shift, his mouth twisting in a hint of a smile when you admit that you do. it's quiet, and you like the quiet.

it takes a while before Jack works up the nerve to ask you for your name, and his knees nearly sag with relief when you give it to him freely.

there's another of your pretty smiles on your face when you tell Jack your name—and this time, it's all for him.

a flicker of warmth trembles to life in his chest, a spark of something he hasn't felt in a long, long time. he feels the need to protect it from the yawning darkness in his chest.

Jack introduces himself to you as, "Dr. Jack Abbot, but you can call me Jack." and you look at him from under your lashes, a teasing glimmer in your eyes as you murmur, "it's nice to meet you, Dr. Jack."

hearing you call him that, in your sweet voice, does something to Jack's chest and he's not quite sure what to do about it. he has half a mind to check himself out for a heart event as he trudges blindly back to the hospital, black coffee in hand.

but then he's plunged back into the chaos of the ER and he doesn't have time to think about the strange fluttering behind his sternum whenever he remembers your smile or your voice or the way you called him Dr. Jack.

he decides it's nice, actually, and that maybe he could learn to live with it.

one late night/early morning—all Jack knows is that it's past 3am but the sun hasn't started to rise yet—he's in the coffee shop, doing his best to chat with you when a car backfires outside on the street. you jump, spilling scalding hot coffee over your hand. the paper cup and coffeepot tumble to the floor, the latter shattering and sending glass flying across the tile.

before Jack knows what he's doing, he's catapulted himself over the counter. glass crunches beneath the soft soles of his shoes as he makes his way to you, moving faster than he has in years to get to you.

you're biting your lip against the pain, tears shimmering in your wide eyes—but there's no fear in your gaze, only a desperate pleading for help. Jack's heart surges in a way it never does in the ER, beating harder and faster, his nerves buzzing to life after so many years spent dormant.

thankfully, all Jack's years of training kick in and he's able to take control of the situation on muscle memory alone.

gently, he takes your arm and leads you to the sink behind the counter, kicking glass out of his way to clear a path for you. he flicks on the tap and checks that the water is cool, but not too cold, before he guides your quivering hand beneath the stream.

with his other hand, Jack tips your chin up to look at him and his chest squeezes with a concerning force when he sees that tears have spilled down your cheeks.

right then, Jack knows he'd tear out his own heart with a pair of forceps if it meant never seeing you cry again.

with fingers shaking in a way they never do when he's working in the ER, Jack brushes your tears from your cheeks. his throat is tight with a panic that feels foreign and overwhelming, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that it's you who's hurt. through it all, he manages to murmur words of comfort.

"you're alright, i've got you. just keep your hand under the water, sweetheart. you're doing so well, just stay right there. you're gonna be ok, i'm gonna take care of you, i promise."

when the tears have stopped, Jack asks where he can find the café's first aid kit, which he fetches quickly before returning to your side.

he knows he's standing too close, crowding into your space, but he can't help himself. he needs the physical reminder that you're there, that you're going to be ok, and he's going to make sure of it.

when he flips open the first aid kit and quickly takes stock of what supplies are inside, he can't help but grumble roughly. he doesn't even know he's muttering under his breath about everything the kit is missing until a little puff of laughter escapes you and he looks up in surprise.

your eyes are still wide, a tightness around them that tells Jack you're still in pain and are being brave about it, but there's something else shimmering in the depth of your gaze. something like fondness, something warm that reaches straight into Jack's chest and wraps around his heart, squeezing in a way that's both painful and pleasant, torture and comfort.

"i'm sorry about your coffee."

your words pull jack from his scattered thoughts, and before he can think better of it, he says, "fuck the coffee." his voice is low and rough, but that doesn't seem to scare you.

his blunt words draw another giggle from you, and Jack feels practically high from the relief and rapture the sound inspires in him. distantly, he considers booking himself in for a head scan when he gets back to the hospital, but he knows the sudden off-kilter feeling has nothing to do with a potential brain injury and everything to do with the way you make him feel.

your laughter trails off too soon, but you're still smiling, looking at him from under your lashes, almost like you're suddenly shy. "if you have time, Dr. Jack, i'll brew another pot."

"i've got time," Jack says, the 'for you' left unsaid. but Jack thinks you know what he means, because your face softens, your eyes looking at him like he hung the moon, and your lips curving into the prettiest smile he's seen yet.

the two of you linger in that moment as long as possible, like neither of you want it to pass. but, inevitably, it does.

Jack looks away first, coughing to clear his suddenly dry throat. his movements are jerky and awkward at first, as he starts pulling supplies from the first aid kit's meager offerings, but his hands steady as his training takes over, and he's never been more thankful for it.

in no time at all, Jack has your hand bandaged and you tell him you're feeling a lot better. before you can thank him, he's writing down his personal phone number on the back of one of the café's loyalty punch cards and telling you to call or text him if you have any questions about treating or re-bandaging the burn.

you take the card with a gentle smile, your eyes roving over his face in a way that makes him shift his weight from foot to foot. he has to bite back a wince when he feels a twinge of discomfort from his leg rubbing against his prosthetic, but he won't stop you from looking.

you thank him for his help, and seem to hesitate before stepping close to him—so close, his heart riots in his chest and his breath catches in his throat. his entire body is lit up, his nerves feeling like live wires, even as he stands perfectly still, as if any sudden movement could spook you.

your lips brush against Jack's grizzled cheek and it's embarrassing how his body reacts to such a chaste kiss, blood flowing to places he thought were half-dead from disuse. his heart is pumping in his chest and his fingers twitch with the need to reach for you, while another part of him, below the waistband of his scrubs, also strains for you.

he wants to wrap you up in his arms and haul you against his chest. he wants to kiss you, to learn how you taste and how you'd sound coming apart on his tongue, and how you'd smile when you're wrapped up in the sheets of his bed.

he wants to map every curve of your body with his calloused hands. he wants to take you home and cook you breakfast. he wants to protect you from ever being hurt again.

Jack knows none of that is possible, that there's no way a sweet, pretty thing like you would want an old, haggard doctor like him. but he'd settle for another kiss on his cheek...

the first time you text Dr. Jack Abbot, it’s only a few hours later. the sun is high in the sky and Jack wakes from a dead sleep at the vibration of his phone on the nightstand.

he doesn’t sleep well. his body never quite unlearned the training it got overseas when he had to be awake and alert at a moment’s notice—or risk his life or those of his fellow soldiers.

but when Jack sees your name and your innocent question asking him whether it’s ok to put aloe on the burn before freshening the bandage, he calms and smiles to himself. it's a smart idea, and he tells you as much.

after he answers your message, he drops back to sleep as easily as breathing, the ghost of a smile still on his lips and the memory of your eyes in his mind.

as the burn on your hand heals, you keep texting Jack questions even though he’s pretty sure you already know the answers—but he won’t do or say anything to discourage you from texting him.

not when you indulge him by sending photos of your hand during the day. and not when you're patient with him when he checks how you’re healing every night when he comes into the coffee shop for his daily fix (though he hasn't told you yet that your smiles do much more for him than the caffeine ever could).

he praises you for taking care of your injury well, his chest warm with pride, his heart surging at the pretty little smile and soft "thank you" you give him.

eventually, the burn on your hand heals, but you keep texting Jack.

at first it’s superficial questions like whether he’s coming in that night—even though Jack is pretty sure you’ve noticed he comes in every night—or telling him about a strange order or funny customer you had.

but soon you start asking him how his night is going and what he does when he’s not at the hospital.

Jack has to scramble to come up with hobbies that aren’t sleeping and listening to the police scanner, the night shift nurses sharing a judgemental look and biting back laughter when he asks them what normal people do for fun.

when he tells you he reads and watches movies, though, you seem pleased.

everyone in the ER knows something’s going on with Dr. Jack Abbot. he’s going on coffee runs every night when they were only rare occurrences in the past, checking his phone so much it’s practically glued to his hand, and he’s smiling more—real smiles, not just the twist of his lips into the approximation of one.

Dr. Robby has even stopped finding him on the roof. or, at least, not as close to the edge.

the security guards and some of the nurses have a betting pool going for who the new person in Dr. Abbot’s life is. Jack pretends to ignore it, but he can’t keep the smile off his face when he sees the board because it reminds him of you.

it’s a few weeks later when Jack finally blurts out the question he’s been wanting to ask you since the first time you smiled at him.

“you wanna go out sometime? with me?”

your grin is wide and beaming, that teasing gleam in your eye when you respond, “took you long enough, Dr. Jack.”

on Jack’s next night off—which happens to be your night off as well—he takes you out. it’s nothing fancy, just dinner at place where you can get a good beer and burger, then you walk through a park, hands brushing tentatively a few times before he finally laces his fingers through yours. your hand is soft in his calloused one and Jack thinks he’s never felt anything quite so perfect.

he walks you home and you hesitate at your door. you don’t invite him in, but you sway into his chest, your face tilted toward his.

bathed in the golden light of the lampposts, you look like an angel to Jack, all soft eyes and a pretty smile.

the two of you linger in that moment, the hum of tension and desire thrumming in the space between your bodies. Jack is so busy marveling at your beauty and wondering why such a pretty thing has any interest in him that he nearly forgets what it means that your eyes keep drifting to his mouth, your pupils blowing wider in the low light.

but finally, he remembers.

Jack kisses you, his hands cupping your jaw and his mouth brushing against yours in the most teasing of caresses. you exhale a soft puff of air, chasing his mouth as he retreats and Jack smiles briefly before he’s giving you what you want. his lips press more firmly to yours, a groan rumbling deep in his chest.

Jack is surprised when your tongue flicks teasingly against his upper lip and he opens for you reflexively. in the next second, you’re licking into his mouth like you’re hungry for him, a gentle sound in your throat like you'll never be able to get enough of him.

the heat of you is nearly overwhelming and Jack's arms wrap around your back, hauling you tight against his chest while he kisses you back just as greedily. he prays you don’t notice how embarrassingly hard he is against your belly, a testament to how much and how long he's wanted you.

but then you moan into his mouth, your fingers carding through his silver-streaked hair, and Jack's mind goes entirely blank.

the kiss lasts forever and not long enough.

when Jack finally pulls away, he’s met with the wondrous sight of your dazed, slow-blinking eyes and kiss-swollen lips. he thinks that if he can’t keep kissing you, at least he can still look at you, your beauty leaving him just as empty-headed as your lips and tongue.

with a giggle at his slow-moving brain, you gently shove Jack away from your door and wish him a goodnight. he waits until you’ve gone inside and locked the door behind you before he retreats.

he walks home with his hands shoved in his pockets to stop himself from texting you to come back outside so he can keep kissing you, maybe even convince you he’s worth a damn—though a part of him suspects you already think he is. for whatever reason.

the next day, you text him that you had a good time on your date and are looking forward to seeing him again. it's accompanied by a selfie of you smiling, your lips still a little swollen from his kiss, and Jack nearly loses himself in his boxers at that simple sight.

his response to you is immediate, telling you he'll see you at the café that evening and he's looking forward to your next date. then he lays back in his bed, and thinks about your eyes, your smile, the pretty sounds you made when he kissed you. he imagines waking up next to you, curling his arms around your soft body and inhaling your sweet scent.

not for the first time—nor the last—Dr. Jack Abbot thinks he must be the luckiest bastard in Pittsburgh, all because of you.

hope y'all enjoyed!! again, let me know if you want to see a longer version of this story—probably broken up into chapters to be a full series. ♡ comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

To Go, Please | the materialists pt 2/2

pairing: Harry Castillo x f!reader (the materialists)

word count: 3.8k

summary: After arriving at Harry's place with tension high for each other after dinner, he convinces you to stay the night.

chapter warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), m!oral receiving, implied f!oral receiving, piv unprotected, fluff, mutual pining, Harry speaks Spanish but translations are there, cream pie, dirty talk, soft!harry.

a/n: I fear I have gone feral for this man over the past few days and on top of my upcoming rodeo!joelmiller fic, there will also be a series with harry coming out soon (will post a sneak peak sometime this week). god help us all when this movie releases... 💀🤍

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Part Two

–

You felt like you were floating as you went further down the hall into his bedroom. Your hands were on his chest, lightly pulling on his sweater as you kissed him slowly and deeply. His hands cupped your cheek and murmured, “I crave you…” as he began to pepper your lips with kisses, “Estas cautivadora…” (You’re captivating)

He had spoken Spanish to you before, but something about it being chanted to you like this, while he had you like this under his gaze, it was intoxicating. 

Your hands rested on his chest, smiling brightly, softly giggling. His hands moved down your cheeks to your shoulders, down your arms to take your hands in his, lacing his fingers with yours, parting from your lips for a moment, pulling you slowly down the hallway as he walked backward, softly chuckling at how carefree and light he was feeling. 

You lightly bit your bottom lip following him, eyes on his before you needed your lips back on his, so you pulled him back in by his hands. You put his hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and murmured, “Come ‘ere…” You teased your hands through his hair, looking into his eyes. 

He smirked as he leaned down and reconnected your lips with his, the kiss starting gentle and slow but becoming more deep and passionate the closer the two of you got down the hall and into the bedroom.

As soon as you crossed the threshold between the hall and the bedroom, both of your hands rushed to start undressing each other.

He parted from your lips, but was softly panting as he nudged his nose with yours, “May I?” he whispered as his fingertips breached the hem of your now untucked blouse, softly caressing your skin. 

You nodded and smiled, whispering back, “Yes…” then softly placed your hand on his cheek to bring him back to you and kissing him as he began to unbutton your blouse, gently but in somewhat of a rush. 

As he did this and you were certain his lips would stay to yours, your hands fell down his body and started to gently palm him through his trousers, earning a groan against your lips from him. You then smirked and hummed in agreement before going up to his belt to start undoing it.

He was halfway down your blouse when he groaned impatiently against your lips and pulled away just a fraction, “Fuck it…” he then tore open your blouse the rest of the way, buttons falling to the floor– your bare skin and black lace bra now on display.

You gasped and let out a small giggle, “Harry!” blushing madly.

He smirked as his eyes fell to your chest, he lightly bit his lip taking his view in before he looked up, “I’ll buy you a new one… in every color…” he was lightly panting, his eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. 

You couldn’t help but grin as you undid his belt and started to unbutton his trousers, keeping eye contact with him, “So you’re going to buy me new clothes for the morning, a new blouse– in every color…” you unzipped his pants and smirked “I wonder what else will be in store as the night progresses…” you taunted before you slowly knelt before him and pulled his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, his hard cock sprang free. 

Your tongue darted between your lips as you looked at what was before you. 

You bit your lip again and then reached behind you, taking your blouse off and tossing it to the side, looking up at him, “Perhaps we should add to the list some throat lozenges…” You grinned before you reached for his member, slowly starting to stroke it before dragging your tongue up from the base to the tip. 

He inhaled sharply then looked down and couldn’t help but grin, “Mmm fuck–” He swallowed, “I’ll add those to the list to send my assistant– anything else?” he reached down and softly ran his thumb over your cheek. 

“Not at the moment…” you looked up at him tilting your head a little, “Can you think of anything else, handsome?” then you put your lips over the tip and moaned softly as you slowly sunk him into your mouth before slowly pulling back to the tip then back down again, this time a little further to tease him. 

His jaw slacked and he grunted, “F-fuck…” he groaned feeling you go deeper.

You kept one hand on the base, stroking it slowly as your mouth did most of the work– bobbing up and down, sucking him into your warmth. Your other hand laid against his thigh, using it to help keep you steady. 

He put his hand on the back of your head, gently guiding you down on his cock, groaning the deeper you’d get, “Fuck you look so good with your lips around my cock…” he smirked and clenched his jaw when you pushed yourself as deep as you could, gagging quietly then moaning softly as you pulled back off him with a soft ‘pop’. 

You swallowed and hummed, “Mmm, you taste so good baby…” You bit your lip and began stroking his length now covered in your spit. 

He felt a pull behind his navel and grunted, “Mmm fuck… god damn f-fuck–” he groaned, “Stand…” he whimpered. 

“Hmm?” you grinned and continued to stroke him, leaning in and kissing the crease between his pubic area and hip. 

“Querida (Darling), I’m only going to say this once more, stand up.” he grunted again and looked down at you, “Please…” he begged his brown eyes pleaded. 

You slowly rose to your feet and stood in front of him, keeping your hand on his cock, continuing to stroke him. 

He gently grabbed your chin and pulled your gaze up to his, “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that to me…” he grinned, “And I’ve not even started with you…”

Your eyes gazed at his lips then up to his eyes as you cooed, “Then why don’t you get started…” You moved in to kiss him but he pulled away just a fraction, he moved back a step and took his sweater off which left him now completely bare before you. 

He then cupped your cheek and whispered as he stepped back close to you, “I wanna take this slow… take my time with you…” he leaned in and nudged your nose softly, reaching his other hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, allowing it to fall off you, down to the ground. 

Your breath hitched and you moved your hands to lay on his chest as he pulled you closer by your waist.

“Harry?” your eyes fluttered closed, feeling him inch closer to your lips. 

“Yes?” he asked, leaning up to kiss your forehead gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

You took a small quiet breath then opened your eyes, putting your hand on his cheek softly, speaking up softly, “I… I think… no… I am–” you found his eyes, “I’m falling in love with you...” you confessed. 

That smile he had already across his lips grew ten times wider. He gently held your cheek and then slowly started to walk you back toward the bed, “Can I confess something as well?” he asked, keeping his eyes on yours. 

You shyly nodded and gasped feeling the back of your knees hit the cooler silk sheets he had on his bed. 

He slowly turned you around, then sat on the bed, looking up at you as he pulled you to stand between his legs, “I’ve been falling for you since I saw you across the aisle at Richard and Mandy’s wedding…” he pulled you to sit in his lap, smiling up at you, “I want this… I want us…” 

You wrapped your arm around his neck, keeping the other on his cheek. Your legs straddling his waist, looking down at him as you listened. 

You leaned down and combed through his hair a few times before kissing him a few times, filled with love and passion.

He then wrapped his arm around the back of you as he turned and laid you on the bed softly then hovered over you, gently pulling from your lips, “I just want you to know that… know where I am.” he spoke softly and reached up to brush your hair out of your face. 

You smiled up at him and touched his cheek tenderly, whispering softly, “I want this too…” 

His eyes got softer than they already were and his smile grew just a fraction more before he slowly leaned back down, capturing your lips to his, kissing you slowly and deeply. 

Your fingers moved to comb through his hair again, pulling him closer. You felt his hands move to the waistband of your panties– so without parting from his lips you raised you hips to allow him to take them off of you. 

He did so and then nestled himself between your legs, his hand gently resting on your thigh while the other pulled your waist close to him. He slowly began to grind his hips, his hard cock sliding through your folds– causing you to softly moan against his lips. 

He continued this, edging the two of you on, creating this tension that you couldn’t put into words other than you both wanted the other, wanted each other now. 

He pulled away from your lips and whispered, “One sec…” then leaned over and opened his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 

You turned your head to follow his movements and smiled softly as you looked at him, “Harry…” 

He looked at you, “Yeah?” he put it between his teeth tearing it open. 

You let out a soft giggle, “I uh… you don’t need to wear one if you don’t want to. I have an implant, so that’s not needed, if you’re comfortable with that…” you leaned your head over and gently kissed his arm that was closest to you. 

He looked down at you, and took the condom wrapper out of his mouth, “You sure?” he smiled softly and set it back on the nightstand then came back to you, cupping your cheek, “I don’t mind wearing one… but I…” his tongue darted between his lips and he leaned down, nudging his nose with yours, “I want you to feel safe…” he softly said. 

You blushed and reached up, touching his cheek, gently stroking it with your thumb, “I’m always safe…” you smiled finding his eyes, “I feel safe with you…” you said softly. 

He went to say something, his mouth opened slightly and there was a small sound that came from the back of his throat but then he smiled and shook his head, “I’ll just show you…” he then leaned down, carefully capturing your lips with his, kissing you slowly and lovingly for a few moments, hands exploring your body beneath him. 

He moved his hand down between your bodies before he aligned himself with your enterence before he slowly sunk into your warmth, humming against your lips, goosebumps eliciting up his body. 

Your breath hitched and you moaned against his lips.

His hand moved to grip the sheets beneath you as he began to roll his hips at a slow steady pace, grunting each time he sunk back into you. 

He pulled his lips back and softly pressed his forehead against yours, “God you feel so good… Eres tan hermosa (You’re so beautiful)…” he softly spoke, panting.

His breathes were soft and slow, but the beating of his heart was quick against your chest. You felt a slight buzz under his gaze, being with him like this. You couldn’t feel anything but him, not the coldness of the sheets, or the brisk breeze coming from the open window, it was just him. 

Just the two of you in this moment. 

You softly moaned every few thrusts in between breathes, you began grinding your hips with his to create more friction, more movement. 

He moved his hand to behind one of your thighs and pushed it upwards, creating more access to you for himself, letting himself get deeper as his hips thrusted into you. He quietly grunted and then peppered your jaw with kisses, making his way down to your neck, softly sucking love letters into your skin. 

You moaned a little louder, more breathier however as his name fell off your tongue. The coil had been slowly winding up and you felt it about to break as you felt a deep pull in your core, “Fuck… I think I’m going to cum…” you began to pant a little harder, your heart now pounding against your ribs, feeling a heat crawl up your spine, “F-fuck don’t stop…” you begged as you gripped his bicep and waist, your back starting to arch up against him. 

He grinned, “I’m not stoppin’... let go baby…” he grunted and gripped onto your thigh, “...for me…” he rasped. His hips didn’t stop, instead he pushed your leg a little more up, and with that you cried out, your back arching more up as you clenched around him, cumming harder than you ever had. 

He grunted and his jaw slacked open before he groaned deeply, “Fuck you feel so good…” he groaned again, muttering drunkenly, “Feel so good when you come undone on my cock…” 

You chuckled softly feeling yourself floating as you began coming down from your high, “God you’re intoxicating…” you breathed in and then pulled him up to your lips, pushing your head up to meet his lips in a slow but heated fit of kisses. 

He moved his hand that was gripping the sheets to cup your cheek, tenderly holding you close to him as he continued to grind into your heat, making soft sounds against your lips. 

You moved your hand down to his waist to pull him close, moaning softly against his lips as you felt him hit a deeper part of you.

He grunted and moved his lips to pepper kisses down your jaw then came down to your neck and shoulder, “Where do you want me… I…” his hand moved back to the sheets and gripped them tightly, his hot breath against your skin, immediately forcing you into overdrive, that coil building back up. 

You gasped and your head fell back against the soft and silky pillows. You couldn’t form a coherent response with how his cock felt deep inside you. You moaned and your chest arched– your nipples were perked and breasts boucing with each snap of his hips. You still had your hand on his waist so you just tugged softly and cried softly the only thing you could think of, “S-Stay…” you started panting a bit faster as your orgasm built up. 

He looked up at you and nodded then created a trail of kisses back up to you. He finished by kissing your forehead softly before he put his hand on the top of your head to create a barrier between you and the headboard he noticed you were close to hitting– but also softly used his thumb to stroke your temple as he hovered over you and continued to bury himself deep inside you. 

He grunted feeling you tighten around him and whimpered softly, “F-fuck…” then started murmering, “I’ll give you the world…” his eyes clenched shut and he groaned and then smiled and swallowed before opening his eyes and leaning down, kissing you slowly and deeply, whispering against your lips, “The moon. The fucking stars. Anything you ask, it’s yours. I’m yours…” 

You wrapped moved our hand to rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat strongly against your palm. The other hand teased through his hair as the two of you continued to kiss, the tension building tighter and tighter for the both of you with each thrust, softly mumbling between kisses, “I’m yours…” 

He pulled back from the kiss, muttering under his breath, “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Your hand moved up from his chest to cup his cheek, whispering, crying out softly, “Right there… please don’t stop… d-don’t stop…” as you softly moaned. 

He grunted and his jaw tightened as he tried to hold on a little longer in order to give you one more release, grunting as his hips started to thrust half haphazardly, speeding up a little. 

You gasped at the sudden change in speed and grabbed onto his shoulder, “Fuck fuck f-fuck…” you cried out then moaned his name as you came, pulsating against his cock as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. 

He let out a small chuckle of relief, smiling down at you, “Good… good girl…” he then moved his hand that was on your thigh to lace with your hand that was on his shoulder, pressing it into the bed beneath the two of you. After a couple moments he inhaled sharply then groaned as he spilled deep inside you, his knees buckling. 

You moaned softly feeling him come undone, holding tightly onto his hand, muttering as your chest heaved, “Kiss me Harry…” you pleaded, needing his lips on yours. 

He moved his hand from above your head to your chin and pulled you to his lips as he leaned in slowly, “Mi vida…” (My life) he whispered before his lips fell onto yours, his body going limp against yours. His hand let go of yours and put it onto your waist as he continued to slowly thrust every drop into you before pulling out with a small gasp from each of you, his cum spilling out of your now empty hole, running down your thighs.

He rolled off after a few moments, laying next to you– but stayed with your lips, wrapping his arm around your body, pulling you against him as he kissed your lips lazily but deeply. Both of your chests heaved against each other, hands moving gently across skin— exploring each others bodies. 

His lips momentarily left yours to trail across your neck, shoulder, chest, whispering how much he loved your body against his, how he wanted this– wanted you for the rest of his life before he made it back to your lips and kissed you ever so passionately, smiling against your lips. He had never felt so happy with someone in his bed, this was it for him, you were the endgame. 

He pulled gently from your lips and nudged your nose, "Stay right here..." he softly commanded before getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom.

You heard the tap turn on and off and then he walked out with a warm washcloth and smiled, "Here... let me..."

He sat on the bed and then gently wiped the mess between your legs, being sure to get as much as he could to help you feel clean after the mess he'd made. 

You watched him with a loving look in your eyes, adoring the small act of care.

He then tossed the used washcloth into the hamper on the other side of his room and put himself back under the sheets, pulling you back into his arms, "Now where was I?..." he bit his lip then smiled leaning down, "Oh that's right..." he gently took your chin in his grasp, pulling your lips to meet his in slow passionate kisses again.

As you both continued to devour each other's lips, you could hear raindrops and a small echo of thunder coming from the open window. The atmosphere was nothing short of peaceful and relaxing, sending you straight towards sleep the more you came down from your high. 

You hummed after a while and pulled back slowly, nudging your nose with his, your eyelids becoming heavy, “Hmm I thought of something else…” you murmured. 

Harry gently brushed some stray hairs back out of your face and looked down at you, kissing your nose ever so gently then pecked your lips, “What’s that, mi amor?” he spoke softly before taking his thumb and gently brushing it against your rosy cheek, memorizing your features as his eyes scanned your face. 

A small happy smile was etched into your lips and you took a deep relaxed breath, “I need a umbrella for my walk to work tomorrow… its…” you took a sweet short breath as you mumbled, sleep taking you, “raining…” 

He tsked, smiling lovingly down at you. He let out a small quiet chuckle then kissed your forehead gently, softly whispering into your skin as his lips lingered, “Get some sleep mi vida, I’ll take care of everything– I’ll take care of you…” 

Harry woke around 7am to his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He had his arms wrapped around you as he spooned you from behind. He slowly turned and grabbed his phone, answering the call, whispering so he didn’t wake you, “Yes?” 

“Sir, the items requested are on the entry way table and we have Scott in the kitchen making breakfast for the two of you, is there anything else I can get for you?” his assistant Bradley spoke through the phone. 

“Were you able to get the flowers I requested as well?” Harry looked over at you as he spoke. 

“Yes sir. I have them sitting in a vase on the dining table with the note you requested written next to it.” Bradley confirmed. 

“Thank you Bradley, that’ll be all.” Harry smiled softly then hung up the phone and set it back before slowly and quietly leaning back over, wrapping his arm back around your torso, softly kissing your shoulder. 

You took a deep breath and stirred in your sleep. You hummed sleepily and turned around to cuddle into his chest. 

Harry couldn’t help but smile lovingly as he watched you sleep. He took his hand and softly caressed his fingers up and down your arm, thinking of last nights events. 

You felt the small brush of his fingertips against your skin and a small warm smile slowly appeared on your lips. You hummed sleepily again, fluttering your eyes open, “Good morning…” your voice was thick with sleep.

His smile grew and his cheeks became warm with adoration as he leaned down and pecked your lips softly, “Good morning, querida…” he continued to brush his fingers up and down your soft skin, “How did you sleep?” he leaned up and gently kissed your forehead. 

You let out a small giggle, “Like a log…” you moved your hand to gently trace shapes into his chest with your fingertips, “You?” you asked looking up at him, studying his features before reaching up to gently kiss his jaw. 

His hand brushed once more up your arm before it came to rest and cup your cheek, “Best sleep I’ve had in years…” he chuckled before leaning in and kissing your slowly, lingering on your lips. 

You blushed and hummed his lips, your hand moving up to tease through his hair, “What time is it?” you murmured. 

He kissed your lips again, then mumbled, “Just after 7…” he kissed you again, “What time is your meeting?” he kissed you again, getting more passionate, starting to pull you closer against him. 

You returned the kiss and smiled against his lips, biting your bottom lip for a moment, “9…” you combed his hair back then softly trailed your hand down to his chest again. 

He grinned, “Good…” he kissed you deeply a couple times then parted from your lips a fraction, “That gives us more than enough time…” He gently pushed you to lay back, moving to lay himself between your legs. 

He then slowly slipped under the sheets, leaving a trail of soft delicate kisses down your body before he spent the next hour making love to you and making you only 10 minutes late to your meeting– which you didn’t mind one bit. 

Previous chapter

no pressure taglist: @thebeautytoyourbeat,  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7, @queenofdisaster12 @axshadows @mystickittytaco @yxtkiwiyxt @alltheirdamn @punkshort @stylesispunk @iheartoldermem @mermaidgirl30 @mountainsandmayhem @sp00kymulderr

not all angels are in heaven. for example i’m mostly at home

if there’s one thing about jack abbot, it’s that he’s going to mock you during sex… though never done out of cruelty or with any malicious intent. if fact, the two of you don’t even think of it as such—mocking.

his words are more of a… provocative ribbing that he knows will flood your mind with a haze. a haze you’re comfortable with floating in, that fills you full, right into a world-bending breaking point.

you’re both on your sides, facing and pressing against each other. substituting oxygen with your panting huffs, jack inhales your moans with sloppy, spit-slick kisses. he feels you shiver in his arms when he slips himself back inside, resettling your leg over his hip to push as far into your pussy as you’ll let him.

jack smirks to himself, his palm moving to splay against the cheek of your ass and yank you closer. he grunts through a sudden exhale at the new angle, commencing a roll of his waist that causes a gasp to burn your lungs.

“fuck, jack,” your mewl, voice weak and wobbly. “ah—ah, ‘s so deep…”

“is it? s’it nice and deep, baby?” he mumbles at your lips, copying your desperate nod and small yeahs with an expression of pity you can tell is fake. “wonder ‘f i can get any deeper...”

you aren’t given a chance to wonder the same before jack is gripping your ass with a stronger squeeze. his tender thrusts adjust into a sharp, sturdy pounding that jerks his balls back and forth against your pussy.

leaking around his thickness, you hand reaches behind to clench the sheet beneath you. it’s the only thing you can manage, the rest of your mind a sweet mush.

“t-too much.” you can barley talk, air escaping your body faster than you can replace it. “it’s too much, feels too good.”

jack doesn’t let up, cock throbbing and pumping hard into your heat. his bottom lip pokes out, just barely, matching your blissed out expression.

“oh, ‘too much, it’s too much’,” he recites, drawing out the words in a teasing tone you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else. “i don’t think so, baby. shit, you’re doing so good. takin’ my cock all nice and pretty.”

you crumble against jack but he holds you steady. lips smushed into his neck, you smear it messy with the spit drooling from slurred, open-mouthed mumbles. 

“you’re so big,” you stammer, vision going blurry at the wet squelch that sounds whenever he rears out of you, and subsequent groan that jumps from jack when he slicks back inside your creaming hole. 

“ooh, i‘m so big?” jack keeps his pace steady through the witty responses, and you can’t yourself from meeting his thrusts with your own grind. you don’t have to see him to feel the grin quirking the corners of his mouth. “hm? maybe i should pull out, give you a break—”

“no. no,” you whine over the rocking of the bed, clutching his as if he’s truly considering slipping his cock out and leaving you empty and cold. “no, don’t stop. gonna come again…”

the words flip a switch in jacks brain and he fucks you the hardest he has all night. foot planting into the bed, he sounds with deep coos at your uncontrollable cries he forces out of you.

it’s disgusting, the way you’ve coated his member in a velvety mixture of your juices. dripping down, it even collects against his sack, glossing him and making his eyes roll.

“gimme that cum, baby. just like last time, squirt it all out for me.”

you body goes numb yet feels like it’s imploding all at once. jack watches the way you shiver in his grasp, clenching around his swollen cock as you gush messily. he fucks you through it, the liquid spurting to wet his stomach and balls.

“that’s it,” he chokes out, inching dangerously close to his own finish. it only takes a few more pulses of your peak to finally clutch his own, plunging feverishly until he’s balls deep inside you. “f-fuck, yeah, right there.”

jack breaks. groaning into the side of your face and latching onto you while comes, the inescapable bliss makes his entire body twitch with harsh trembles.

“holy fuck, i’m still goin,” jack almost growls, air caught in his throat at the continuous ropes of cum he spills into you. the both of you are still heaving and coming as he leaks out of you. your lips puffy and swollen, and a sticky mess. it goes on for so long that jack ends up laughing through his moans, stomach sore from all the clenching.

it takes a few more minutes for your bodies to finally melt into tangled piles of limbs, the warm residue of your climax swimming nicely in your belly.

“you still with me, gorgeous?”

the only response you can muster is a sleepy mm-mm, and he gives you an equally-exhausted laugh. you only find the strength to peel open your eyes when a soft hand cradles your chin to tilt your head.

eyelids fluttering, you stare at him in a lost, fuzzy daze. thumb stroking your cheek, jack blinks sleepily at you before planting a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.

“i’m right here,” he promises, words certain but still far away when they reach your ears. “right here, baby. need you to come back for me, okay?”

a whine seeps from your lips. it’s not a defiance but you’re not obliging him either. you’re just… still in orbit, where you are the sun and jack’s the earth just before a dawn; as usual, he’ll push past the incoming fatigue, and wait for the otherworldly, ingrained tug that will eventually pull you back to him.

“right here…”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

I love black trans people!!!

⧽ ⠀ ── ⠀ 𝗦𝗔𝗙𝗘𝗧𝗬 𝗡𝗘𝗧 ﹕ Modern!Marcus Acacius Fic

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Marcus Acacius x BIWOC!Sugar Baby!Reader

SERIES SUMMARY: Marcus Acacius finds more than what he expected on a sugar dating app.

SERIES TAGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Modern AU. Sugar daddy Marcus Acacius/Sugar baby reader. Age gap [Marcus is 50/reader is 25+]. SMUT. Developing relationship. Reader is explicitly described as a curvy woman of color: darker skin tone, curly hair texture, etc. Everyone is still encouraged to read! Reader is afab and able bodied. Marcus is recently divorced. Marcus comes from old money and is a businessman. Written by BIWOC for BIWOC. <3

A/N: This is for the real ones that get it. If you get it, come and get y’all juice. If you don’t TURN THE OTHER WAY! 🙂‍↕️ Dedicated to all the BIWOC that hardly ever see themselves in stories like this where they are desired by a sexy older man that’s filthy rich. #DEITAKEOVER!

⧽ I. — PART ONE ⧽ II. — PART TWO (tba)

↳ more coming soon…

©️ @ovaryacted & @gothcsz 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!