Let’s Try To Salvage 13 Years

it wasn't planned, but just ended up happening. it started with craig hogging the couch to do drugs, only to be joined by you and pope due to you being bored of lounging at the pool, inviting j along to join you when he'd unsuspectingly passed by the living room.

j had some sort of soft spot for you, craig had noticed. so did deran. something about you being a good addition of normalcy to the fuckery that went down in that house on a daily basis. baz was suspicious of you. and craig was... well.

and as the night progressed, craig got his usual munchies after snorting coke and promptly fell asleep on the couch. he didn't care much for the movie or the company.

when he woke up, eyes squinting, he realized that across from him were you and andrew, with no j in sight. the somber light filling up the room let him know that the sun was rising and that he'd been asleep for at least a few hours.

from his seat, craig had the perfect side view of you perched on pope's lap. your hips were straddling his legs as he leaned back on the couch and your fingers were running through his hair. there was no way for him to really take in the image. he could under no circumstance open his eyes all the way, nor could he alter his breathing lest you realize he was awake.

he wasn't sure what his move here was, but he figured he didn't want to interrupt as he heard the words that had woken him up in the first place.

"andy, wait- your brother's right there," you'd whispered in a scandalized but hushed giggle.

pope's face was buried in your neck, low wet sounds to be heard from the contact.

"'s fine, baby. he's asleep," pope mumbled, his grip keeping you hostage against him, "plus, i don't care. want you."

"yeah?" you mumbled, nosing at andrew's cheek before reaching his lips.

the telltale sound of macking of lips interrupted your whispers. craig could hear you sigh in between kisses. he had to tune out pope, wanting to hear your sounds exclusively.

after some kissing, craig heard your breaths grow heavier, with one last few wet kisses taking place before you spoke again.

"want you, andy," you murmured, sitting up a little on pope's lap.

"i know you do, baby. want me to take you to bed?"

"mhm," you sounded breathless already.

"need you to be ready for me first, yeah?"

craig began to regret his choices, but he was in too deep now.

your silhouette was all the could pay attention to as he tried to discreetly watch.

he groaned internally when your body began to rock against his brother's, head slightly thrown back and your tiny shorts digging into your inner thighs, practically disappearing from sight. the curve of your back was torturously deep and your ass stuck out as you used his brother to get off. he would've killed to be the one under you at that moment.

"like this?"

"yeah, baby, just like that," pope grunted, "use my bulge to get off, c'mon, baby."

and you obeyed him. craig saw you lean forward, hands gripping at pope's shoulders as he slouched back on the couch. your breath picked up. now you were panting and sighing as you ground down on pope.

"feel so good, andy- so big, ffffuck,"

your movements were slow at first. pope's hands guided you, head tilting back against the couch at how incredible you must've felt. the arch of your back only deepened and you threw your head back. you seemed possessed from where craig was looking.

within minutes your desperation reached its peak.

"a-andy, take me to your room- please—"

pope tsk'd, "gotta rub that pretty clit on me first, sweetheart."

"but andy-"

with a forceful move, pope somehow pulled you even closer as he pressed himself against you. the two of you ground against each other noisily. the shuffle of clothes filled up the room as you attempted but failed at keeping your cries of pope's name muffled.

echoes of "a-andy..." and "'sso good, baby" were shared interchangeably between you as pope dragged you against him like a rag doll.

"i need more, andy..."

"i know you do, baby," pope hummed patronizingly, "just want this pussy sloppy and ready for me."

craig was running out of patience by then, but your whines at every word from pope kept him going. he was already half hard under the pillow he'd conveniently left in his lap before falling asleep.

when you pouted, pope's hand found your chin, forcing your eyes on his.

"wanna know what i'm gonna do to this pretty pussy as soon as you come, baby?"

the 'uh-huh' that left your lips was so pathetic craig had to hold back a groan. pope was free to audibly do so.

"'m gonna throw you on my bed," he started, words slow and calculated like all things pope, "'n then 'm gonna bend you over and lick at that pussy from behind til you're begging me to stop."

craig had no time to be disgusted by hearing his brother utter those words. not when you interrupted with a needy gasp. your hips lost their rhythm, now humping at pope with what could only be described as insanity.

"you want that?"

"please—! andy- i need-"

"wanna know what i'm gonna do after that, baby?" you nodded desperately, prompting him to continue, "gonna fuck you til the bed's shaking. gonna make it so good for you, baby, you won't remember anything other than 'andyandyandy-" the last few words took on a mocking tone, pitch a little higher to imitate your previous wails of his name.

those words were enough to make you come. your movements halted with a full-body shudder. you froze and shook and sighed and cried out. all while pope groaned under his breath and moved you against him. fucking bastard.

before you could recuperate, maybe respond to all those threats, pope got up with you on his lap, easily hauling you over his shoulder. you let out a squeal that was a little too loud for craig not to wake up (had he actually been asleep), but he remained with his eyes half-closed.

when pope turned around, he gave craig the perfect view of your ass bent over his shoulder, clad in only a tiny pair of sleeping shorts that had ridden up so much he could see every crevice of your ass and pussy.

they were embarrassingly drenched, panties glossy as they contoured your puffy lips.

on his way out, pope kept muttering dirty shit, clearly careless about whether or not your giggles had woken craig up or not.

it didn't take long for the familiar sound of a door slamming shut to be heard, nor for the loud squeaking of the bed to begin.

craig finally opened his eyes, practically bloodshot at all the restraint he'd practiced.

you'd grown well used to eyes on you at all times. it was how you'd first fallen for the eldest cody brother. his eyes would follow you, eventually finding yours looking back with an enamored look he'd never been on the receiving end of, and the rest was history.

but these eyes were not your andrew's, and the difference was stark.

while, yes, andrew looked to you with lust at times, there was always this particular affection that you'd easily grown addicted to. his eyes were caring, affectionate, loving, everything other than just lustful.

the eyes that seemed to follow you around belonged to someone you hadn't expected to take this sort of interest in you. especially not when you belonged to someone else — and when that someone was so adamant in letting everyone know that it was him you belonged to.

at first you thought that maybe your bold and shameless sex life was to blame for his stare.

(your avid sex life was a badly kept secret, and maybe you had a bit of an issue keeping it down when andrew insisted on staying in between your legs for hours or pounding you against the wall until you begged him to stop).

then, you assumed that it could've been the careless manner in which you walked around the cody residency donning the myriad of marks and love bites andrew liked to decorate your skin with.

(you'd instilled that habit in him, moaning his name a little louder, sighing a little more seductively when his teeth would latch onto your skin, promising to stain his body with your own marks in return).

soon after, you realized that the issue at hand was actually just that craig was a bit of a pervert.

andrew had warned you of this, had given you a specific warning in regard to each brother of his. your general impression of them was based on their treatment of andrew, which led you to a verdict:

you hated baz, liked deran, somewhat respected j, and only really tolerated craig after figuring that dating his brother did not mean you were off-limits to him (or at least to his wandering eyes).

but even if you were a little peeved off by his lack of boundaries in keeping his curiosity of you in check, you still found his infatuation somewhat amusing.

and so you decided to entertain it a bit.

you'd never actually give him any opening or signal to act on anything, but you'd toe the line a little.

could you really be blamed? knowing that you were andrew's, that you'd become some sort of unattainable treasure that belonged to him and him alone, well, it kind of did it for you.

so you started to kiss andrew just a little deeper any time craig was around. you'd scratch at his hair just how he liked, sneak your hands under his shirt and claw lightly at his abs. you'd push and push until andrew had no option but to drag you away in order to fuck you.

and if craig just so happened to be walking by, you'd be none the wiser.

you'd wear the skimpy clothes andrew bought for you, you'd sway your hips, arch your back as andrew applied sunscreen on your back and craig had no option but to just watch (and never, even in his wildest dreams, get to touch).

it was a silent, one-sided game. harmless and clearly incredibly frustrating for craig. too bad it was too much fun for you want to stop any time soon.

that's how you found yourself on andrew's lap once again.

you didn't like to be a nuisance to deran or j, so you liked to keep the pda to a minimum when they were in the same room. which was why you'd ensured no one else was home when you decided to corner andrew into the couch.

no one but craig, of course.

he wasn't around, per se. but you knew this was around the time in which he came home to chill on the couch and watch some shitty sitcom while he got high. it was a frequent enough routine that everyone was pretty much aware of.

with your tongue down andrew's throat and your panties already pushed to the side, you ground against your boyfriend, juices already beginning to intertwine between you. you'd pulled out his dick about ten minutes ago, toyed with it, tortured it. and now your skirt was lifted up and your panties out of the way.

every grind dampened his cock with even more of your juices. you were completely soaked, a little embarrassed at how easy it was for andrew to get you going.

any spectator outside of your relationship might've thought that you'd been playing it up. that your endless screams of his name behind closed doors and the shameless marks were just ways of you to play it up for andrew, to inflate his ego for a reason or other.

the reality was that that was both true and false.

the pleasure was completely real. no moan or whine had ever been faked or exaggerated for andrew's sake. he had a magnetic effect that you couldn't resist from the moment you met him. but did you also get off on how much he loved your every, loud, over the top, reactions?

well, obviously.

and just like in every other instance, your moans at the heaviness of his dick right between your swollen lips were nothing but genuine.

after some gratuitously extended foreplay, you finally reached beneath you to press him into you, slowly lowering yourself onto him as he huffed right against your lips.

"baby... fuck, so fuckin' good."

"uh-huh," you moaned, still delirious as he pulled you all the way down so you'd take him to the hilt.

"andy- i'm so fucking full, baby."

"yeah? taking it so good for me, angel," he breathed into your lips, tongue flicking at them a few times before digging into your mouth.

it was ridiculous how quickly you lost yourselves in each other. only a few kisses, a few caresses and that specific look in your eye were necessary before andrew completely gave himself up to you. it drove you delirious with this uncharted pleasure you'd never imagined possible.

bruises formed on your hips as he dug into the skin, pulling you into him, aiding in the rocking of your hips. for a little while you completely forgot about your original goal with this. fucking andrew out in the open just seemed like a completely neutral decision, not calculated or done for some fun little experiment.

the reminder came only a few minutes into the steady rocking of your hips. you'd been so focused on the sweaty hunk under you to hear the opening and closing of the front door, much less to realize that someone else was now in the room.

but even completely gone to the pleasure, your eyes opened. and when they did, they immediately locked into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

craig stood there, like a deer in headlights, completely dumbfounded at the sight in front of him.

from where he stood, he faced the back of the couch, couldn't exactly see your body or its nudity. it was a mostly pg sight (not really), but he could see into your eyes, and through them the way andrew was making you feel.

andrew's back was to him, leaving him clueless to craig's ogling.

you gave him a little smile, but otherwise ignored him. the pair of you continued to lock eyes, yet your focus was entirely on your andrew.

you leaned back on your haunches, bouncing on andrew and pulling him closer by his curls. his groans became muffled as he bit and drooled into the skin of your neck, fucking up against you.

"andy—! oh, fuck, don't-don't stop, baby-"

your eyes rolled back, but you continued to face craig, head tilting back in immense pleasure. nothing felt as good, and the added layer of someone watching, someone who'd never get a chance, it made you speed up.

you wanted to make a mess out of andrew, wanted to show anyone you ever came across just how much of a mess you made him, how he did the same to you in return. how he broke you down and had you drooling, salivating for him.

"yeah? you like it? tell me- tell me how you like it."

and when he asked you that, you couldn't deny him. you needed him to know, needed everyone else to know.

so you kept crying out his name, sighing, whining for him.

"it's so good, andy- so big, and- nd it's making me so full—"

across from you, craig stood still. his mouth was agape now, looking down at you on his brother's lap. his eyebrows furrowed, conflicted and frustrated. but he wouldn't look away.

the closer you got, the more pained he appeared and the less composure you had. the bottle he'd been holding remained crumpled in his grip, practically shapeless by the time your orgasm arrived.

when andrew neared his end, his thrusts sped up. you were practically a toy to him by then. your nails pulled at his hair, endless sounds leaving your lips. you were his to do whatever he wanted with. everyone had to know that. it only made you cum harder, wail his name so loud the neighbors could hear.

your eyes closed, rolling back when andrew's sounds increased in volume. he grunted your name, grunted words too loving to be spoken while he fucked you as he did, but they were so him. you felt full, delirious, loved.

upon opening your eyes again, you were suddenly alone.

andrew continued to pepper kisses into your skin, always one to show his affection for you after you'd let him have you like this. he held you against him and you did the same, never one to let go of him too soon.

there was some silence, but the comfortable kind.

"you're torturing him, you know," he spoke suddenly.

"huh?"

andrew nodded in the direction of the door craig had just exited through, "craig."

"wait- you know?"

he shrugged, mindlessly pulling you in a little closer, unbothered by the shared sweat between you, "he's kind of obvious about it."

"you're not mad?"

he shook his head, "feels good," was all he said.

"yeah?"

"like that you're mine. like knowing no one else can have you but me."

his eyes faced forward as he said it, not looking into you. there was some sheepishness to his tone, though you could hear the pride seeping in in the background.

your hands trailed to the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss, humming into his lips.

"want them all to know you're mine," he continued in between languid kisses, "that they'll never get to do more than look."

you giggled, feeling somewhat elated at being kind of a ... trophy? it was an odd feeling, but a good type of odd.

and below you, andrew chuckled lowly, body vibrating against you.

"i'll still kill him if he keeps it up, though."

You finish the last stitch of a patience and take a breath. "Alright, clean gently with mild soap and water, no scrubbing. You should come back in about 2 weeks to have them removed." You stand up from your stool, "I'll be back with your discharge paperwork."

You leave the room and head to the hub to look for Abbot, the attending for the night. You find him speaking with Ellis. Without looking up Ellis talks to you, "Day off tomorrow, how are you spending it?"

"Why? Are you trying to take me somewhere?" You hand your tablet to Abbot.

"No, you've just been busy recently. I'm just wondering where you go." She shrugs.

"Dr. Abbot has been busy recently too. You don't ask him where he goes."

"I don't have to. He probably does raids with swat like in the movie Sicario."

Abbot makes a face, "I do nothing like the movie Sicario."

"Close enough." Ellis shrugs.

You laugh and take back your tablet, "If you must know, I am teaching tomorrow."

"What are you teaching?" Ellis cocks an eyebrow. Abbot looks at you as well in curiosity.

"It's a hobby class." You explain, "I was invited by the actual teacher to show some more advanced techniques."

"What kind of hobby?" She asks.

"Uh," bondage, "pottery. It teaches you patience."

"That's exciting," Ellis says sarcastically.

"That's exciting." Abbot smiles, "It's nice to know you have something outside of this."

You smile in return and head back to your patient. You and Abbot had a professional relationship. He supported your recent case study that came during a shift. You had his vote for Chief Resident the next year. You were patient with the med students, guiding them through sutures and small procedures. You were an excellent teacher. He never had standards but you exceed all his expectations.

Sometimes it was friendly. Coffee and a chat when you both were free in the break room. You'd discuss sport scores depending on the sport season. It was nothing more than coworker courtesy.

"What are your plans tomorrow?" Ellis asks later in the night.

"I am taking a rock climbing class." He says.

"You like rock climbing?"

"Never tried it. I learned a few knots in boot camp so might as well try." He smiles.

It wasn't actually a rock climbing class but it did have to do with rope. For the last few days off, Abbot had been attending a bondage class and learning to tie rope. He would tie up others but it did not excite him. But when the rope is held taught against his own chest and he can feel it tighten and relax as he breathes, he loves it. It feels so good to be bound, constrained, and at the will of others.

Abbot was a fast learner but with some of the techniques he struggled to follow through without a little guidance. It was different to a medical procedure. Rope is much larger than thread and the sexual energy in the room was a little too suffocating to focus. He didn't want to feel eye fucked as he tried to tie.

The class begins in the evening. They all sit on benches around the room as the teacher enters, "Good evening, class. It's nice to see you all. I would like to start us off with an announcement. We have a guest with us today, a mentee of mine that I believe has surpassed me. She does phenomenal shibari work and I invited her to show you some more advanced techniques based on the knots we learned in the past."

Your name rings in Abbot's ears like a siren. No way it was you, actually you his star resident. Yet, it was. Out from behind a curtain with red rope in hand you scan the room with a smile. When your eyes land on him you quickly look away.

Your boss was here. Here in the class you were teaching about bondage. A thing you did in your free time that taught you patience and discipline. The same patience and discipline you used in your day to day work. You swallow the hard spit in your throat and cough awkwardly.

"Thank you for having me." You say as steady as you can be. "I've been doing this for some time now and am more than happy to teach you what I know. From standard bindings, we can use the knots to build structure. Like ladders."

You use the teacher as a demonstration. She turns her back and you tell her to place her arms behind her back so her hands touch her opposite upper forearm. You bind her wrist to her forearm and make knots between every binding before finishing the other wrist. As you do the technique, you are addressing the class. Like you would the med students during a procedure.

Abbot watches as you hands grip the rope but your hands on the teacher were delicate. You were deliberate with every move you made. You were avoiding his gaze on purpose too. Your eyes look to each of the students but slip quickly past him. You continue on with the lesson teaching different bindings of the chest and arms.

"We all have different bodies and rope is a malleable medium. There are ways we can be accommodating." The teacher explains, "Dr. Abbot, would you mind coming up here?"

"Sure." He gets up from his bench and comes to the chair and instead of sitting on it he lowers himself to the floor.

"Dr. Abbot is an amputee who has joined us for a few sessions."

"I see." Your nostrils flare but then you smile, "Do you mind removing your prosthesis?"

"Not at all." He takes off the leg and sock.

"Great." You kneel down beside him, "We can always make adjustments to design and reverse them. Instead of binding the foot to the upper thigh, I am going to bind the upper thigh to…" You look at him, "Where do you feel comfortable with the tie?"

He gulps, "Uh, just above the scar should be fine."

"Sure." Your touch is gentle as you weave the rope around his residual limb, "I'll use a double coin between ties. How does that feel Dr. Abbot?"

"Good, fine." He purses his lips.

All the eyes are on his leg but your eyes are on the rope as you reach his knee, "Now rest your leg under you." His breath hitches as you grab his forearms to help him shift his weight. He was resting his knees on the floor, "How does that feel?" Your eyes search his face looking for discomfort. He worried you would find arousal there instead.

"It feels fine. It's beautiful too." He smiles.

"Yes, fantastic, it looks amazing. And this position would be perfect with a short arm tie and chest tie separately or an intricate arm tie." The teacher says, "What do you think?"

"Uh, maybe behind-the-back arm tie with a chest harness. He is very… muscular so the ties can accentuate… the uh arms and knots around his chest and back." You clear your throat. You can't believe you said that about your mentor. You can't believe you just tied him up. You can't believe he's into this. Oh god, now he knows you're into this.

"Always considerate of your partner's beauty." The teacher claps her hands together, "Alright, let's take a break before we break off in our pairs."

You quickly untie Abbot. "You did good." You say, "Did you need—"

"I've got it." He puts his sock and prosthesis back on.

You gather your rope and purse your lips. You stand up and walk over to the teacher. You thank you for the invitation to the class to teach. You were meant to stay for that first hour and a half so you bid farewell to her and leave the studio.

You didn't realize how hot you were getting until the cool air of the night touched your cheeks. You think how you are going to face Abbot tomorrow. You could call in sick and switch with somebody else. Or transfer hospitals to make it even easier. You enter your car and cringe to yourself before driving home with the windows down for air.

The next night, you keep your head down in the emergency room. You interaction with Abbot has gone down drastically. No polite small talk just simple directions taken and communication during traumas.

Later during shift, You take a few minutes to yourself in the break room. You blink slowly as you fight sleep until you close your eyes. It's only for a minute when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You shoot your eyes open to see Abbot holding a cup of coffee to you. "Thank you." You take it from him. "Sorry, it's been a long night."

"I get it." He sits down across the table from you. You take a sip of the coffee and dare not to say a word. There was nothing you could say. "How did you do that knot on my leg?"

You choke on the coffee as it goes down your throat, "Excuse me, sorry…"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you with the question." He averts his eyes, "I know it was probably weird to see me there."

"It was a shock, yes, but don't let me being there discourage you from it. It's fun…" You clear your throat, "I um, I don't have rope with me. Let me get some tubes and I can show you."

"Would you be okay with that?" He asks. He looks genuinely surprised like you would reject him instead.

"Of course. I thought you were going to scold me, for seeing you there." You give him a small smile. "I'll be right back."

You leave the room and return with some line tubes and sit beside him at the table. You show him step by step each move that is needed to tie the knot. "I know it's hard to see because they're clear but they are closer to rope size than thread." You don't realize how close you are until you turn your head. He's lookin at the rope then his eyes catch yours. You hand the tubes to him, "You try."

Abbot tries his hand at making the knot. You are still beside him guiding him through it. He hopes you don't look into his lap at his growing erection. He was getting hot just by the sound of your face. Since that night before, the way you spoke played on repeat in his mind. You kept asking him how he was doing. The way you spoke about his physique. Even when you were nervous, a slight waver in your voice, your choice in ties was definitive.

"So why shibari?" He asks.

"It's therapeutic. I like how time consuming it is. How much time you spend with another person. It reminds me of medicine but with a lot more trust. You and your partner decide what to do together and as the rope goes around the body you feel each other."

Abbot shudders as you speak, "Do you have a partner?"

"Uh no," You smile, "I used to. My ex introduced me to the art but I preferred the tying rather than the being tied up. So, now I do it in public settings like your class and take a partner there."

"So, it's not really sexual for you."

"Oh it is. I just don't have a partner to be… with." You purse your lips, "Hey, you've got it!" You catch yourself staring at him then look what he was doing again.

Abbot smiles at the knot he made then he turns to you. He clears his throat, "We should get back to work…"

"Right. Keep practicing though. It's just like suturing, you won't get better until you get better at it." You stand up from the table and go back to the hub to pick a few more patients.

At the end of shift, you are walking to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You turn to see Abbot walking towards you. You smile at him, "Everything okay, Abbot?"

"Yeah, I just… I wanted to say thank you for showing me that knot during shift. I know it wasn't the most ideal place to be teaching that stuff."

"No worries, I'm always willing to teach." You turn away thinking it's the end of the conversation.

"Actually, I uh, I was wondering if we could talk about it more?" He sucks his teeth, "I don't really have anybody to talk to about it and during class everyone is paired off together… I learn with the teacher."

"Sure." You smile, "She can be a little overbearing."

"Yes, she can. I get it, it's what's she's paid to do but I don't really want to talk about my leg like it hinders my sex life." He laughs.

"Right, we can walk to the diner nearby, I can smell their coffee from here." You smile.

The two of you sit in a corner of the diner in a booth. You can't believe you were talking about bondage to your boss this early in the morning. He looks at you so intently as you speak you start to get flustered. His eyes are attentive not leaving your face until he reaches for his coffee cup.

"I didn't think I would like it as much as I did." You shrug, "Now I can't imagine before I learned about it."

"Fascinating." He smiles, "How did you know you preferred being a rigger?"

"I was feeling just uncomfortable in the rope and I would get bored. Nothing about it aroused me." You shrug, "What about you? What do you like about being a rigger?"

"I uh don't like it actually." He sets his cup down, "I prefer to be tied."

"Oh!"

"Oh? You're surprised." He chuckles.

"It's just... you seem very…"

"Dominant?"

"Yes." You laugh, "I hate to admit it but you are quite the domineering presence. An attending, former military…"

"The signs are there but it's the same way you feel nothing when you are tied up, I feel the same when I am tying." He licks his bottom lip.

"I respect it. It takes a lot to relinquish that kind of authority in kink." You bite back a smile.

"Well that brings up another thing I wanted to ask about." He clears his throat, "I know I am a beginner but that night, when you tied me you said something about how you'd finish it. The other harnesses that would accentuate my body."

"Right…" You hold your breath as you wait for his question.

"Would you mind doing it to me?" He swallows hard, "You can say no if—"

"Yes," You says quickly, "I mean, of course this would be… a lesson of some sort."

"A private lesson." He adds.

"Mhm, a private lesson at my house."

"Your house?"

"Tomorrow night, you can come by." You affirm, "If that fits in your schedule."

"It does… I'd be more than happy to." He clears his throat again as he tries to maintain his excitement. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

You can't believe it. You spend the next day cleaning your house to get your mind off the fact that your boss wanted you to tie him up. You had a separate room for your extracurricular activities from your bedroom. You had a floor mattress, your rope hung from the wall and some other rigging items like suspension bars and other restraints in the room as well. It was your sanctuary and you were inviting your boss in there with you. To take your mind off of things you shower and change into a black tank top and capri leggings to match.

Night arrives and your doorbell rings. Abbot arrives and you lead him inside. He looks around the room with a smile. It was clean, very clean. Everything seemed to have its place with nothing astray. Your degrees were hung on the walls with a few pieces of art he would consider avant garde.

"Okay, have you eaten and gone to the bathroom?" You ask.

"Yes I have." He nods.

"Good, then we can just go to the room."

"Your room?"

"No, a different room." You lead him to the sanctuary where you have the mattress on the floor. Some candles were lit on the window sill and you had a lamp with a warm yellow bulb adding to the ambiance. It smelled like vanilla and citrus like a room spray was mixing with your cleaning products.

"Okay, to start will sit on the floor across from each other. We are just going to take a few deep breaths." You hold out your hands, "You can hold my hands or my forearms but this is just to ground us. Make us aware of each other."

His hands wrap around your forearms and his forearms rest on your hands. His hands are warm and dry, unlike yours; cold and clammy. You look into each other's eyes as you take a breath. You tried to hold his gaze but you were nervous under his gaze. You never held eye contact this long with him. It's quiet in the room, you're sure he could hear your heart thundering in your chest. With every breath, you feel him squeeze your arm then relax.

Once you're satisfied, you separate and stand up. You grab some rope from your wall. "Go ahead and get comfortable." You turn around and see he is removing his shirt. You turn back around to face the wall again.

"I'll just be in my briefs if that's okay." Abbot says.

"Yeah, that's fine." You suck in a breath then turn around again. He's shirtless and in black briefs. His clothes neatly folded by the edge of the mattress and his prosthesis beside them,"Nervous?"

He shakes his head. "I trust you."

You smile and unravel the rope then sit behind him, "I'm going to start with your hands behind your back."

He moves his hands behind him and he straightens his arms as he feels the rope around his wrists. It was like his arms were folded behind his back. Your eyes wander from the ties you were making to Abbot's back. His shoulders were decorated with freckles and with his breath you could see them rise and fall with his breath.

"I'm going to now tie your wrists to your abdomen." You move to his front and pull the rope, bringing his wrists closer to his back, "How does that feel?"

Abbot could keep a bit of a poker face when you were behind him but now you were looking at him. Staring in his eyes with such intensity. "It feels good."

"Comfortable. Or can I go tighter?" You pull the ropes gently.

He winces and bites his lip, "Just a little."

"Okay then. This should be good." You watch his chest heave as you wrap the rope around his abdomen. You let out a breath like you were blowing a bubble and Abbot makes a noise. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just, your breath was cold on my chest." He chuckles.

"Sorry, I guess I am the one who is nervous." You smile. You move behind him again to knot.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks.

"What do you think?" You giggle, "I'm tying up my boss."

"Well don't think about it that way." He looks over his shoulder at you. "I'm your partner right now. Do to me what you'd do to a partner. It's a lesson remember?"

You hang your jaw in shock. Treat him like a partner. You take a few deep breaths before you grab your rope again. "I'll be gentle." You cross the rope up his back and across his chest a few times just under his chest. Your touch is more sure and your not hesitant to touch his skin. You rub over the rope grazing just under his pecs. "How does that feel?" You whisper in his ear.

"Good." He pants. He bites back a moan as you wrap the rope back over the his shoulders and under his armpits.

"Your teacher was right. Your body is… beautiful." You run your fingers over his skin between the knots and rope. He shifts at the touch causing the rope to move and him to whimper. You move your hands over his shoulder and over his pecs. "Is this what hides under your scrubs? I don't want to stop touching you."

As you move around him, your fingers move over every muscle. His chest tightens against the rope as his breath hitches. Every move you makes against his skin shift the ropes against him. You grab more rope that sat beside the mattress, "I'm going to do your legs now okay?"

"Yeah, that's perfect." He licks the corner of his mouth.

As you do the same method of tying on his leg as the one from the previous night, Abbot's eyes are on you. Your delicate fingers weave the rope around itself then over his leg. Your brows knit together in focus like you were treating a patient. Your eyes are on the rope then they move to his eyes. "How does that feel?"

His heart does flips in his chest. "It's fine."

"Good." You run your hand up his thigh when you notice it. His erection pressing up against his briefs. You avert you gaze back up at him. "Time for your other leg."

You do the same for the other leg so he's immobile while sitting on his knees. Your touch is hot on his skin now. The room is cool but he feels like he's on fire. Any move could set him off. He rolls his neck as he gets antsier. You check on all the ropes rest your hand on his heart as you listen, "You're getting excited."

"It's kinda hard not to right now." He says breathily, "I've never been… like this."

"I can tell." You smile, "Now the last act. For you to finish."

You reach towards the gap between his legs, "Is this okay?"

He nods.

"I need a verbal 'yes,' Abbot."

"Yes, please. Yes." He says desperately. He's aching to be touched at this point.

You press your hand against his briefs and rub gently. His breath hitches and he bites his lip. You hold onto his shoulder so he doesn't lurch forward and hurt himself. He rides against your hand as he moan. You feel a wet spot of his precum under your fingers as you move them. "What is it that really gets you going, Abbot?"

He doesn't answer. He can't answer. His eyes are screwed shut as he focus on his approaching orgasm. His moans get higher and more drawn out. Your hand moves from his shoulder to his neck. Your thumb rubs over his jawline, "Let it all go. Cum for me." You whisper, "Go ahead and cum."

Abbot leans forward. You catch him on your shoulder as he cums in his briefs. He grunts and ruts against your hand as he finishes. You pull on the quick releases on his arms and legs and hold him. You continue to undo the ropes around his body until they are all undone. "Let me get you some water."

Abbot continues to lay on the mattress in a daze at the very strong orgasm he just had. You return with a cup of water and he sits up to drink. When he finishes you take the glass back, "You can change in here, the bathroom is at the end of the hall if you want to get cleaned up." You smile.

You leave again and rinse the glass in the sink. You don't usually do what you just did. With any kind of lesson, intimacy like that shouldn't be initiated. But he looked so desperate. He was panting like a dog, and his heart was beating like crazy. You were excited about it too. Seeing him like that made you crazy enough to do it. You splash some water on your face before going back to the room to finish cleaning.

When Abbot returns, he's dressed. "Hey. I just finished up in here." You stand walk with him back to your living room, "How was that?"

"Good really good." He clears his throat, "Think you could…"

"Your secret is safe me." You seal your lips with an imaginary zipper and a lock.

"Thanks. I hope this doesn't change anything between us." He clears his throat.

"Of course not." Your smile wavers for a moment, "This was a private lesson," where you did no teaching and gave him a handjob, "a one time thing."

"Well, it doesn't have to be that… does it?"

You blink, "No, it doesn't. You know I have the space. We can do whatever you are interested in."

"Great. I'll see you at work tomorrow." He heads to the door and you see him off from the porch. When you come back inside, you hold your hot face in your hands as you realize the predicament you have put yourself in. So much for coworker courtesy.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆

Stepping into the shower behind him, your hands are magnetised to his skin, smoothing over and already digging into sore muscles. There's stubborn dirt where the collar of his shirt was on his neck that you scratch at with your nails.

There's not much else that's really stuck to him, the water having already done a decent enough job, so you continue to dig into his back. You're not exactly stronger than Pope, but he relents at your pressure and leans his forearm against the tile followed by his forehead.

Thumbs along his spine until they meet the dimples there, smoothing out and squeezing gently before moving back up, inch by inch. He's mostly quiet, letting out short huffs of air as you work through one knot with your knuckles. And then another lower down.

When you go to kneel behind him and start to rub at his thighs, Pope turns, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder to stop you. The faintest hint of a flush adorns his skin that has nothing to do with the heat of the water and you force yourself to suppress a tiny grin. It's so easy with you that he hates it sometimes.

Only after he's turned towards you do you notice scratches up the right side of his chest. They're not even bleeding anymore (if they even were) but under the water they're much more pronounced. Pope knows you just as well as you know him and before you can say anything, he cuts you off.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothin'," he brings your hands to his chest. A sign of asking you to trust him, getting to feel the gentle thrumming of his heart under your palm.

"Y'know what's not nothing?" You ask quietly in return and the freckles of his cheeks only fade out when the skin further blushes underneath them. You slide your hands down his chest, over where the muscles of his abdomen tense, right down to where his cock has already started to twitch from lack of attention.

Pope huffs a laugh and his eyes dart down to where you start to wrap your hand around his girth. He's heavy in your hands no matter how many times you've fooled around with him, no matter how many times you've gotten your hands or mouth on him. His lips stays parted as he's hypnotized by the motion. It doesn't take long for his hips to roll into your hand.

He could get used to this after every job. A massage and you lowering onto your knees to take the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around to catch the water and precum drooling out from his slit. One of your hands brace on your thighs as you continue to bob your head along his length.

The water going cool doesn't phase either of you.

His hand pushes the hair off of your forehead before he rocks himself just a little into your mouth. It works every time to force a whine from your throat. Pope tastes like the effort of the job, sweat and salt, a reminder all he does outside of your purview.

You push yourself, forcing your jaw to relax until you've taken every inch and he shudders, hand quickly finding its way to the back of your head. Pope holds you there until you start to tap against his leg, pulling off to sputter out pooled saliva and catch your breath. Before he can open his mouth to make a smart ass remark or maybe even ask if you're okay, you push on his hips with both hands to force him against the wall, taking him into your mouth again.

His breathing gets heavy, hand still on the back of your head as he guides you in tandem with the rolling of his hips, fucking into your throat. It's hard to keep the noises down from you both as he starts to fuck a little faster, harder, tip hitting the back of your throat. His thumb presses into the corner of your jaw and despite the fact that it's already hurting and there are tears starting to slip down your cheeks, you hardly want him to stop.

He can barely bring himself to stop when he gets close, in fact, the grip on your hair with the hand not on your jaw gets borderline painful. His chest is heaving above you and your eyes flick up just in time to see his scrunch shut and his cum to flood the back of your throat. You moan around him, doing your best to swallow each drop before he pulls you off.

"Fuck," Pope exhales, his cock throbbing a few more times, cum painting your lips. Your tongue swipes along your lips and before you swallow what's sitting there, your hand circles right where his cock connects to him. He tenses but he lets you milk him, a few firm strokes so you can get every last drop, swallowing only then.

You wipe the corner of your lips with your hands and blink up at him with an entirely doofy grin, one befitting only a lovestruck fool. You reach for his hand and he helps you stand up, his eyes finally opened and drifting to your knees. The tile has left angry imprints that can't be explained away... though neither of you really put too much thought into it when there's no blood washing down your legs.

"Feel better?" There's such a thick teasing lilt in your voice he contemplates pushing you back on your knees just to prove some point. Instead, he runs his hands over your face and through your hair, pulling you close to him where the even colder water sprays you both.

୨ৎ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘.

Ugh the little “you alright darlin’” with that slight lift of his chin. I’m already dripping. Yourself & Jax are only acquaintances at the moment, so there’s no big chit chat, nothing you could actually write home about. But the way he greets you? That swift lil movement, is more than enough to get that kewchie poppin!!!!

୨ৎ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜.

Very rarely are you actually sat at the same table when in the clubhouse, but the moments you do happen to look out for him, his eyes are already on you. If I was being polite I’d say he was “undressing you with his eyes” but nah, this guy is full blown fucking you with them. Picturing you bent over the clubhouse table, legs spread, panties to one side. Imagining the warmth of sliding inside and curing that insatiable ache you have going on down there.

୨ৎ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑.

You’ve already worked it out, most of the time he doesn’t even need to pass you, he chooses to. Placing that rough and calloused hand anywhere he can on your body. Not in a creepy way but in a I need to touch you so imma find a way kinda way. That ring covered hand of his will find its home on your lower back, on a shoulder or just by your waist and you can’t be sure if you imagined it (of course you fucking have a thousand fucking times) but you’re almost certain he’s even left a fingerprint or two on your ass.

୨ৎ 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢.

Just because he doesn’t use his words doesn’t mean he isn’t looking out for you. He knows he doesn’t know you well enough to tell you what to do and who to talk to…but when you do stray and talk to one of the random club hang arounds, oh his eyes are stuck on you like glue. He’ll be posted up, drink in one hand, blue eyes squinting trying to asses both you and the unsuspecting male from a distance, trying his best to read and get to know your body language. Thankfully, for their fucking sake none of them have ever tried anything stupid with you… cause if he did think something was up? Oh it’d be stuck. He hasn’t figured out why yet, (because he fucking likes you duh) but if anyone EVER tried something dumb like that but he’d burn this fucking clubhouse down and the asshole with it just to make sure you were ok.

୨ৎ 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎.

Oh, that fucking lip bite. That fucking lip bite. Whether it’s in your direction or not, that tiny little mannerism of his makes your head fucking spin. And he knows he’s sexy with it, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, how they shine with pure fucking mischief. ugh fuck me rn. & your favourite bit? Seeing just a flash of his tongue as it flicks out to wet his bottom lip, wishing it was your lips instead. Yes I completely mean ya pussy lips.

୨ৎ 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖.

His laugh is something you’d ride if you fucking could. The sound of it slides over your entire body like honey left out on a hot day, leaving little flutters and swoops as it rolls through the room. It’s dirty and dangerous and the sound alone fills the atmosphere like a storm incoming. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine how his laugh would sound right in your ear, saying all the filthy shit you could ever fucking imagine. Who’s my good girl? You want this dick huh? close enough to feel the rumble of that said storm as it finally hits and he whispers how bad he wants to drag you to his dorm and fuck you silly.

Ahhhhh!!!! Just a lil something to ease my way back into the world of secretlysamcro. FUCK how I’ve missed you all. I’ve got a thousand fics to catch up on so bare with me 👉🏽👈🏽 I might start doing these little pieces whilst I work on something big 🥹😮‍💨 loves you all hehe | also I don’t know where the pinks come from? Trying something new hehe

JAX TELLER MASTERLIST

Jack Abbot stares a lot. I mean, it’s part of his job… to observe, to monitor, to make sure the hellhole that is the PTMC runs the way it should. But mostly, Jack stares at you. His gaze always catching on your frame across the nurses’ hub as he takes in the way you work, oblivious to the way his keen eyes glaze over with something that could not be described as anything else but want. You catch him sometimes as he guides you through a procedure, wearing an unreadable look on his face that to any passer by, just looks like a concentrated mentor focusing on guiding a resident through a difficult task. It’s clinical, efficient, unattached. 

Only he knows, that there is nothing clinical or unattached running through his mind as he watches you. The mind that can’t help but think about brushing the loose piece of hair that covers your face behind your ear, or how your hands that always move so gently and skillfully would feel touching the stubble of his jaw, or the ripples of his back. He thinks about how they would feel wrapped around his cock, with the same gentle reverence that he sees you display in everything you do.

Would you touch him so softly that he couldn’t help but buck his hips into your hand just to feel a little more while you innocently stare back at him? Would you squirm and clench your thighs at the sounds he makes as he leaks all over you? Would you shut your eyes tight with a little wrinkle between your brows or tearily look up at his face when he finally gets to fuck you, as you uncontrollably flutter around him, your breath hitching and your jaw hanging open as he grinds his hips up after each thrust so that he hits the spot that makes you whine and gush around him as he whispers how good you are in your ear.

His thoughts are interrupted when you call out for him with a gentle “Doctor Abbot?” as you await his instructions. The expectant, wide-eyed look donned on your face makes the remaining blood in his head rush to his already aching cock. After quickly guiding you through the remainder of the procedure, Jack rushes to the bathroom for the nth time this month to wash his flushed face with cold water, hoping that it’ll will his hard on away, and praying that it takes his guilt away with it.

When he returns to the bustle of the ED, his focus is renewed, and the Jack Abbot he wants to be returns, focused, steady, and not plagued by thoughts of you. But that doesn’t last long—it never does—because the next time he sees you, the all too familiar stir in his pants returns, and he has nobody to blame but himself.

Getting home after a shift doesn’t ease his mind off you either. He just can’t help but think of your pretty face while he palms his wet cock under the cool spray of the shower and imagine it was you touching him instead, watching every shake of his breath, staring coyly at him as you make him watch what you do to him with your bottom lip teasingly tucked between your teeth.

He cums with the image of your face flashing behind his eyes and a desperate whimper of your name, almost like he’s afraid you’ll hear him. As he watches the proof of his depravity swirl down the drain, the guilt returns, but Jack knows that he is a weak man, and he knows that come tomorrow, he’ll do the same as he fantasizes about you again, and he also knows that he’ll do nothing to stop it.