ིྀղícհօlҽ ིྀ

It wasn’t even always to drink, not really. There was a whole nonalcoholic seltzer selection that Dana encouraged (threatened) them to start selling after Frank got back from rehab. For the first few years of your residency sometimes the thought of a crisp Shirley Temple was the only thing getting you through the night. It had become a rite of passage at this point, the first night you dragged Samira she stuck her nose up the whole time. Now, you guys had fries and Shirley temples on the hard nights. Whiskey on the harder ones. 

Tonight’s reason for celebration? Michael Robinavitch’s birthday, age undisclosed no matter how many times you all tried to bribe Dana for it. It was one of those rare occasions where a mixture of day shift and night shift could find a few hours to celebrate together, and Princess was determined for it to be a good one. The bar had been unofficially ‘bought out’ for three hours, a few balloons and a banner sat heavy above the dim yellow lights. 

Somehow, through your years in the Pitt, you have never once been to the bar at the same time as Jack Abbot, your night shift attending. You knew his appearances were scarce there, rarely feeling up to listening to old 90s country and hearing the squeal of residents he already spent too much time with. 

Ellis however, swore she had it on good authority he’d be there. There was no way he’d miss his best friend's birthday celebration. Which may or may not have been the reason you slipped on a little black dress that showed a little too much skin and paired it with a pair of tights and heels. A little darker eyeshadow than normal with your hair falling down your shoulders, but you would’ve dressed like that anyway. Right? That’s what you told yourself anyways.

Besides you had the night off, why not dress up? It had nothing to do with the way Ellis had to physically close your jaw some nights to stop you from drooling over your charts as you stared across the hub at the soldier. Or the way Santos and Whitaker had to deal with your tipsy ramblings about the silver-haired fox. So you had a little crush on your much older boss. It was fine, it was manageable. 

You exchanged words over patients, bantered like old friends, and flirted miserably with each other. It all started innocently enough, you were one of the newer residents with a sharp tongue. Rivaling the one the quick-witted attending had. The two of you meshed together well, matching each other's pace perfectly. It was a match made in heaven, or hell depending on what your coworkers had to deal with that night. 

With this in mind, it was no surprise that you’d been unnecessarily giddy as you slinked inside the dimly lit bar. Heels clicking against the sticky floor as you waved to your coworkers. 

“Welcome to the party.” Ellis snickered, grabbing your hand and spinning you around playfully, “You’re gonna give that old man a heart attack, you know that right?” 

You pushed her shoulder playfully, ignoring Mateo’s whistles and Princess’s cackling. “What old man? I have no idea what you’re talking about..” You drag on, giving side hugs to everyone. 

“Yeah, right.” Samira rolled her eyes, pulling you down into the seat next to her. 

“Where is everyone?” You asked, watching a few others trickle in slowly. Whittaker and Javardi came in, but Santos was absent. When you asked he just shrugged, saying she had an errand to run. 

Drinks were ordered, and the music was blaring out of the scratchy speakers of the jukebox. The tables and bar filled out gradually, laughter overlapping as more familiar faces slipped in, Robby finally making his way through the crowd to an eruption of cheers. Mateo grabbed him first, hauling him into a rough hug while shouting over the music, and you followed close behind.

”Happy birthday old man,” You giggled, as he pulled you into his side roughly. 

“Oh, kid,” He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’re getting there. Don’t you worry.” 

“Yeah, right.” Samira piped in, raising her glass to him as he passed. 

“He’s jealous of our eternal youth.” You pouted, sliding back into the barstool you claimed next to her and Ellis. 

You all watched as Robby made his rounds, plopping down in one of the stools next to Whittaker, who was still nervously awaiting his roommate's arrival. 

A drink was slid in front of you with a wink from the bartender, making Samira roll her eyes. “This poor college kid has been flirting with her every time we’ve come here for the past year and she refuses to put him out of his misery.” 

All you can do is shrug, “God forbid a girl likes free drinks.” 

“She’s saving her flirting for a certain old man.” Ellis cackled, making you slap her shoulder playfully. 

Before you could even get out groans of protest Princess was behind you, “She’s even got new underwear on today, I can tell.”

Laughs echo around you, making you roll your eyes. “Okay, okay. Laugh it up.” 

“What are we laughing about?” Robby asked, a beer bottle sat firmly in his hand now. 

“About how hard Y/l/n and Abbot are gonna flirt tonight,” Princess answered. 

“Oooo,” Robby whistled, “Is tonight the night? Everyone put their bets in.” 

Your brows furrowed, “Bet? What bet?” 

Suddenly there’s silence, Princess smiling before she pretended Mateo and Jesse were calling her back to their table. 

“You guys are ridiculous." You huffed, watching Ellis pull her found out typing frantically. “Parker why are you texting Shen-“ 

“Mind your business-“ 

“I hate you all.” 

You barely had a second to brace yourself before Jack slipped in behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your top. His presence was overwhelming, yet you knew it was him by his sandalwood cologne and aftershave. You blamed his time in the military for his silence, or maybe it was the drink you’ve already downed to blame for your obliviousness. 

His hand brushed the bar just beside yours, caging you in without touching you, his head dipping slightly so his mouth was just by your ear.

“Even me, sweetheart?” 

Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass as you huffed out a quiet breath, tilting your head just enough to glance back at him, desperately trying to ignore how close his face was to yours, fighting the pull of a smile as you shot back, “You’re at the top of the list tonight, actually.” 

His deep laugh made chills appear on your bare skin, missing his warmth as he backed away. 

You barely had a second to recover before he shifted away from you just enough to step around, his presence brushing past as he moved toward Robby, clapping a hand against his shoulder in an easy, familiar greeting.

“Happy birthday brother,” he said, voice low but warm, and Robby grinned, lifting his beer. “Look who decided to show,” he shot back, pulling him into a quick half-hug. 

Ellis leaned down to your ear, a devilish smirk playing on her lips as she murmured, “Let the games begin. I have money down on you going home together, Shen has money on you two slipping into the bathroom at some point,” and you nearly choked, turning your head to stare at her in disbelief as she pressed a playful kiss to your cheek like.

“That’s such an invasion of privacy-“

“Earn your favorite coworkers some money tonight,” she added sweetly, already pulling away before you could form a proper protest, leaving the barstool beside you conveniently empty.

She was leaving you to the wolves, no doubt texting Shen endless updates for their own twisted amusement. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself, but it didn’t do much when you glanced back toward Jack and found his eyes already on you.

He hadn’t missed a thing.

Even as Robby was mid-sentence beside him, even as the conversation continued like normal, his attention flickered back to you. His dark eyes roam shamelessly over your exposed legs, and the way your dress dipped low in the front and even lower in the back. 

This was new territory, there was no safety net of your work-issued scrubs or job hierarchies in place here. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure if you’d ever seen Jack not in scrubs. His signature, tight black t-shirt sat deliciously on his muscles, with his well-worn blue jeans resting on his hips. 

You didn’t even realize you were staring just as bad as he was until he excused himself from Robby, sauntering over in his usual heavy gait. 

“Miss me?” he murmured, voice low, meant only for you.

You glanced at him, lips curving slightly despite yourself as you took a slow sip of your drink. “You were gone for like half a minute.”

“Felt longer,” he replied, eyes already on you, already taking you in in that way that made heat creep up your neck again, his thumb shifting lazily against the back of your chair like he had all the time in the world.

”This seat taken?” 

You shook your head, watching him slip into it easily.

You turned just enough to face him, your knee pressing firmly into his, your voice lighter than the way your pulse was starting to pick up. “You’re dramatic.”

”You’ve been working with me for how long now?” He smirked, “Though you knew that by now.” 

Both of you are pulled from your flirting by the front door of the bar flinging open. 

“I’m late, but I came bearing gifts.” Santos whistled, walking in with a paper bag held high above her head. 

There are a few cheers, she's doing a small spin on her heels before stopping at the bar. Robby gave her a short hug, shaking his head, “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t just get you something. So don’t feel special.” She teased, opening the bag to pull out two black cowboy hats. Cheap imitation leather things, probably bought at some party store. The reaction was immediate, loud cheers and clapping from the group. 

“Absolutely not.” Robby shook his head, a blush going to his cheeks. 

“Come on,” She whined, “For you ER cowboys.” She said, grabbing the second one and waving it towards Jack. He rolled his eyes, ready to protest in the same fashion before you spoke for him. 

“Abbot will wear his? Won’t you big boy?” You smirked, the straw from your drink still hanging from the corner of your mouth. Maybe it was the liquid courage, or just how fucking badly you wanted to see him in that hat. 

His mouth parted for a moment, before he looked down at you. His gaze was intense, and amusing. The whistles are drowned out, too busy eyeing you up and down. 

“Yeah,” He hummed, still not taking his eyes off of you. “I sure will, honey.” 

You could have melted into a puddle, right then and there. 

His thick fingers wrapped around your arm as he passed you, the contact unnecessary but welcome. He grabbed the cheap hat, placing it on his head with a shit-eating grin. It was all you wanted and more. He looked down at you with hungry eyes, his fingers tilting the edge of the hat down at you.

“Come on, Robby. Don’t leave me hanging.” He drawled, watching his ER cowboy counterpart do the same, more reluctantly. 

“Let’s fucking go,” Santos cheered, slipping through the crowd with your hand in hers. 

The music swelled around you, bass thrumming through the floor, and the group fell into it easily, the kind of uncoordinated, half-serious dancing that came from exhaustion and adrenaline finally burning off. Santos spun you once just for the hell of it, laughing when you stumbled slightly before catching your balance, and you leaned into it. Robby eventually gave in too, his earlier reluctance fading as he moved with the rest of you, one hand still occasionally adjusting the hat like he had not fully accepted his fate.

You watched him and Whittaker fall into an awkward dance, making you and Santos fall into a fit of giggles. Samira was behind you, with Santos in front as you all lazily draped over each other. Swaying to the beat of the music that Princess did an excellent job at picking out. 

Jack kept himself perched at the bar, sipping on a Diet Coke lazily talking to Ellis. You knew this, because every few seconds you’d feel his gaze heavy on your neck. 

“Okay,” Santos said suddenly, sliding in closer behind you, her hands settling on your hips as she leaned in. “Hold still.”

“What are you-“, you started, laughing as she pulled you into her arms, pulling your hips flush to hers. 

She dipped her head toward your ear, her voice dropping just enough to cut through the noise. “You know someone hasn’t been able to take their eyes off you, right?”

Your breath caught for half a second, your gaze instinctively flicking toward Jack, and sure enough, he was already watching you, his expression shifting slightly when he realized just how close you and Santos were. You could hear Samira’s laughter from behind you.

Santos' hand went up, waving softly at Jack. He waved back, a small grin appearing. 

“Santos,” you muttered, trying to brush it off, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“I’m just saying,” she replied, pulling back with a grin. “It’s getting painful to watch.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could not quite suppress the smile that followed, and when you looked back, his eyes were still on yours. 

Eventually, the music shifted, the energy dipping just enough that someone suggested drinks again, and the group moved as one back toward the bar, laughter spilling over itself as you claimed space along the counter. You all had missed Dana, who stopped by, dropping off a small cake, slightly lopsided and already missing a clean edge where someone had clearly tested it early, and it was set down in front of Robby with dramatic flair. 

“I feel ridiculous, like I’m wearing a costume.” Robby groaned, shifting the hat on his head every few minutes, as the small cake was cut into pieces and put on tiny plates to be passed around. 

“You gotta relax into it, brother.” Jack teased. “This is where I thrive.” 

Santos barks out a laugh, “Yeah? When are we gonna see you in that flight attendant outfit?” 

You nearly spit out your drink in a fit of laughter, alongside everyone else. 

“Okay, I feel like we’re missing something.” Mateo cried, ready to get more information on his attending. 

“When he came in on day shift with his SWAT uniform on,” Robby clarified, “Said we should all see him as a flight attendant." 

“When did that happen?” You asked, mouth feeling dry. 

“Uh,” Robby hummed, “About a week ago? Got shot at while performing a crike in the field.” 

The crowd laughs, a short, “He got shot?” From Javadi, her eyes wide. 

You tune all of that out, too lost in the thought of Jack Abbot sidling through the halls clad in his SWAT uniform, sweaty and covered in blood. 

“You okay, Y/n?” Samira asked, waving her hands in front of your face. 

“No,” You whine, almost like a petulant child. “I fucking missed it?” 

“Told you!” Santos giggled, “Especially when he took off the vest and was in that slutty little t-shirt. All I could think about was how pissed you’d be knowing you called out.” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” You sighed, “This is the worst day of my life. Did no one take pictures?” 

Joy rocked forward a little, flipping through her camera roll aggressively. “Let me look.” 

“Even the interns saw this and I didn’t?” You grumbled, setting your now-empty drink on the bar aggressively. 

“I took a picture.” Jack’s voice spoke softly into your ear, making you flinch for the second time this night.

“Jesus Christ," You breathed out, your hand on your chest. “Have you been here the whole time?” 

He just hummed, “I can show you my uniform if you wanna see it that bad, darling.” 

“You offering to put it on for me, cowboy?” You bite back, gaining your confidence back easily from the startle. 

You’ve flirted a lot with him over the years, and you’ve thought you’ve seen all the flustered looks Jack Abbot could muster. But this one? This was new. The moment the word cowboy slipped from your lips, his eyes got dark. You pocketed that piece of information and leaned back in the chair. 

“What if I am?” He hummed, blocking out the whistles of your friends all around you. 

“S‘long as you promise to have nothing underneath it.” 

A wolf whistle pulls you out of your bubble, Robby groaning playfully. “Keep it in your pants, God, you guys are worse here than at work.” 

“But Robby,” You pouted, “I’m very clearly trying to get something out of his pants.” 

A loud, “Someone call HR.” pulled the crowd into tipsy laughter again, making you nearly fall out. 

Jack’s shoulders brushed against yours again, as he pushed a small plate of cake towards you. “Eat, I know you’re drinking on an empty stomach.” 

You jutted your bottom lip out, “No, I’m not.” You lied, watching as he grabbed a plastic fork anyway. 

“Do I have to feed it to you?” 

He didn’t miss the sparkle in your eye at that, “If you’re offering.” 

There’s no hesitation as he scoops up some of the sugary concoction, holding the fork up. “Open up.” 

You widen your jaw, letting him slide the fork into your mouth as you bite down. Letting your lips stay wrapped around the utensil for longer than necessary, your eyes never once leaving his when you pulled off of it. 

“Mmmm.” You moaned almost obnoxiously, wiping some of the frosting off your lip. “Good cake.” 

“Yeah?” He managed the grunt out, before he placed the fork down on the plate.

If he had to watch that again, he’d have to explain to everyone why he had to throw his jacket over his lap.

You entertained him by finishing off a few more bites, before various hands were dragging you back out onto the floor. Like a magnet, you still found yourself waltzing back to the bar after your heels began to ache.

He was ordering yet another soda, when you slipped beside him.

“You not drinking?” You asked, your mouth feeling like it was full of cotton as you used the bar to keep yourself upright. 

The attending shook his head, “I’m on call in case Shen needs me.” 

You pouted at him, “No fun.” 

“Oh,” He shifted on his leg again, “Don’t worry about me. I’m having the time of my life watching you out there.” 

Your skin buzzes again. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip before you speak up. “Do you wanna join me?” 

His warm eyes looked down at you in amusement, “You want me, to dance with you?” 

Your teeth pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, nodding up at him. “Come on, just one song?” 

He held your gaze for a second longer than necessary, like he was weighing something out, something heavier than the question you had just asked, and then he exhaled softly through his nose, a small smile pulling at his mouth as he shook his head at himself.

“One song,” he agreed.

You barely gave him time to reconsider before your fingers curled around his hand, tugging him away from the bar and back into the crowd, laughter spilling out of you as he followed. The music had shifted into something slower, heavier, the bass rolling through your chest as you turned to face him, your hands instinctively finding their place on his shoulders.

“This your big plan?” he asked, one brow lifting slightly. “What are we slow dancing at the bar?” 

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” you shot back, swaying closer. “Would you rather I grind all over you?” 

His hands hesitated for half a second before settling on your hips, firm and warm, as he had finally allowed himself the contact after months of carefully avoiding it. 

“You’re trouble tonight,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it barely carried over the music.

“Just tonight?” you teased, tilting your head. 

He huffed out a quiet laugh, his fingers flexing slightly against your hips, and you felt it, the shift in him, the control he usually held so tightly starting to slip at the edges. You leaned in closer, letting your body move with the rhythm, slow and deliberate, your hands sliding from his shoulders to the back of his neck. 

“Careful,” he warned softly, though there was no real bite to it.

“Or what,” you asked, your voice just as quiet. It didn’t help that the drinks made your lips loose, or that he looked so dangerously good in that fucking hat it made you want to jump his bones.

The question hung there between you, charged and unanswered, and instead of stepping back, you moved closer, letting your body brush against his, your legs slipping in between his. His grip tightened immediately, a sharp inhale slipping past his lips as you shifted against him again, slower this time, more intentional.

“That’s not fair,” he muttered, his head dipping slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours.

“You could stop me,” you replied, your breath catching just slightly.

Instead, his hands slid just a fraction higher along your hips, steadying you as you moved against him, the fabric of your dress riding higher with each slow shift, your pulse thundering loud enough you were sure he could feel it. 

The space between you disappeared entirely, when he spun you around. It took a second for you to catch your balance, before you pressed your ass into his hips automatically.

 “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, one hand dragging slightly as he adjusted the hem of your dress where it had ridden too high, the motion lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You tilted your head back, just enough to take a look at him. “You alright?” 

“You’re so fucking-“ He cut himself off, as another sway of your hips grinding against his made his knees lock up. You could feel the bulge forming in his pants, it was undeniable.

You weren’t sure what it was, if it was the buzz running through your veins or both of you finally succumbing to this cat and mouse game you’ve been playing, but you couldn’t care less that you were practically dry humping in a room full of coworkers. All you cared about was how warm and heavy he was against you, the scent of his cologne that made your chest twist. 

“I’m what?” You asked, voice breathy as you threw an arm up around his neck, giving him a front row view to look down your already low-cut dress. 

This seemed to be his last straw, losing what little control he had left, as he pulled his hands away from your skin as if they were burning

Before you can process what’s happening, his hand is gripping your wrist, tugging you harshly towards the bathrooms. You’re following happily, a bounce in your step as he pushes you into the single bathroom. Locking the door aggressively behind him. 

You don’t even get a shaky laugh out, before his hands are gripping your face, pulling his lips onto yours. His lips are warm on yours, the subtle stubble of his cheeks scratching against your face. His hand on your neck, your hands pulling him by his shirt. 

The stupid cowboy hat gets thrown onto the bathroom counter, as your hands reach up to get a handful of his salt and pepper curls that you’ve been dying to get your hands on. 

“Do you have,” He pants into your open mouth, his tongue still swiping against yours with each breath, “Any fucking idea, how long I’ve wanted this?” 

He gives you no time to answer, his tongue assaulting yours. All you can get out is jumbled moans, as your back hits the bathroom door with a soft thud. He slots his leg between yours, one of his hands reaching down to squeeze at the thick flesh on the outside of your thigh, gripping your tights in between his fingers. 

Your dress is practically pushed up against your hips already, his lips leave yours for a moment, leaving a trail of spit behind. 

“These fucking legs,” He groans, his eyes darkening. “Not a single man out there deserves to see these.”

”Wore this for you,” You manage to croak out, pretending like his thick thigh wasn’t pressing against your throbbing cunt. 

“Did you, sweetheart?” 

You nod frantically, your fingers still tangled in his hair, while your other hand grips his shoulder like a lifeline. 

He leaned his head down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “Do you have sentimental value in these tights?” 

“N-no.” 

A loud rip echoes in the bathroom, as he rips the flimsy tights with his bare hands. He shreds the fabric on your upper thighs, pushing them down with such franticness that your head is spinning. 

His callused hands brush against your bare thighs now, pushing his thigh deeper into your spread legs. You moan at the contact, head lolling back on the wooden door. 

“Look at you, grinding out there on me like a bitch in heat.” He spat, “Now you’re begging to get off on my thigh, aren’t you?” 

“Fuck, p-please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, arousal sat heavy in your gut. Every nerve in your body was on fire, aching to be quelled. 

“What do you want, hmm?” He asked, still slowly dragging your underwear-clad cunt against the rough fabric of his jeans. The friction was delicious, and feral. 

“Touch me,” You gasped, feeling him pull down the thin strap of your dress to mouth at your exposed tits. 

“I am touching you.” He hummed, taking your hardened bud into his mouth with a lewd pop. His tongue flicks against it sloppily. 

“You’re such a t-tease,” You tugged at his hair softly, “I want you to make me cum, please. Fuck me, something.” 

“Good girl,” He cooed, and the words made your legs tremble as his hand slipped between your thighs. The pads of his thick fingers pressed against the wet patch on your underwear, making a dirty smirk grace his lips. “You gonna be good for me?” 

“I’ll be your good girl.” The words were leaving your lips before you realized, knowing you’d do almost anything he’d say if it meant he kept his hands on you. 

Your underwear was roughly pulled to the side, his fingers coming into contact with your bare cunt. You nearly cried tears of relief when he began to circle your throbbing clit. 

“That’s all you needed, huh?” 

“Yes, m’your good girl.” You whined, feeling him spread your folds open, prodding your entrance. He slipped two fingers inside in one fell swoop, his thick fingers stretching you so wide you had to press your nails into his skin to quell the delicious ache. 

His fingers were perfect, thick and long and they knew exactly how fast to go. With his thumb brushing against your clit with each thrust. 

“Did you ever fuck yourself on your fingers thinking about me?” 

His fucking mouth was going to be the death of you. 

You forced the words out of our mouths, unwilling to give him a reason to stop. “Y-yes. All the time.” 

“Dirty girl.” He curled them even deeper inside of you. ”Do they feel as good as you thought?” 

A shrill laugh escapes before you can stop it, “F-fuck, they feel so much better.”

”You’re never gonna be able to fuck yourself again, I’m gonna ruin you huh?” He kept fucking going, “Your poor little fingers can’t reach this spot can they? No?”

Suddenly he was pressing against a spot that you’ve never felt before, white-hot pleasure licking down your spine. You were practically gushing around him, the wet sounds of him crooking his fingers against that perfect spot. 

“Breathe,” He cooed, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure. He held you up, feeling your legs trembling around him. “Just breathe. I’m gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel s’fucking good.” 

He was slurring over his praises, with each moan that gasped from your lips. There was no warning when you came, just your eyes rolling into the back of your head and the lewd sounds of your cunt squirting your release around his thick fingers.  

“-fuck my pretty girl.” He was still whispering, when you came to. Your forehead pressed against his shoulder, bite marks evident on his bicep from where you bit down while coming around him. 

Your mouth was dry, body lax against his as he slowly pulled his fingers out from you. There was a wince at the loss of contact, but he kept his thumb on your clit. Leaving featherlike circles on the sensitive bud as you came down. 

“You okay?” He asked, his voice louder, a little steadier now. As if he almost didn’t cum untouched in his pants at the sight of you coming undone on his fingers. 

“You’re insane,” The words blubbered out, a dopey smile on your face. “Absolutely fucking insane.” 

That got you a grin from him, “I thought you knew that?” 

He saw you gain your footing, running your hand down to his belt before he stopped you. You were just about to drop to your knees, mouth watering at the prospect of returning the favor with his cock in your mouth. 

“..wait-“

”What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” He assured you, pushing your now soiled underwear back in place. “I just wanna take you out of this filthy bar.” 

“You gonna take me home, Dr. Abbot?” you asked, your voice still a little breathless, a little unsteady as you leaned back against the sink.

“That sure is the goal, Dr. Y/l/n,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting as he reached for you, tugging your dress back down into place with careful hands that lingered just a second longer than necessary.

It was only then that you both paused, your attention dropping to your legs at the same time, and the reality of what had just happened settled in with quiet amusement. Your tights were completely ruined, torn beyond saving, thin fabric hanging in uneven strips where he had lost patience.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” he said under his breath, like he wasn’t even going to pretend to argue it, his gaze flicking over the damage before he crouched down in front of you. “Hold still.”

You started to reach down, but he stopped you with a light touch to your wrist, already working the remaining fabric down your legs, his movements slower now, more deliberate.

When he finished, you took the ruined tights from him, turning toward the trash without much thought, but he caught your hand before you could toss them.

“Hey,” he said, pulling them from your grip and shoving them into his back pocket with a casual shrug that didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “A reminder.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, heat rising to your cheeks again as you turned back to the mirror, doing what you could to fix your hair, smooth your dress, make yourself look even slightly presentable. It was a losing battle, but you tried anyway, fingers working quickly as you caught your reflection, flushed and a little wild-eyed.

Your gaze landed on the ridiculous cowboy hat sitting on the sink, and without thinking too much about it, you picked it up and placed it back on your head, adjusting it with a small, satisfied tilt.

“There,” you muttered. “Much better.”

Behind you, Jack let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, his hands settling briefly at your waist as he leaned in just enough for his voice to brush your ear.

“Come on, cowgirl,” he murmured, his fingers pinching lightly at your ass as you moved past him.

You squealed under your breath, shooting him a look over your shoulder, but the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away as you reached for the door and stepped back out into the bar.

All things considered, you should have realized everyone would have noticed your disappearing act. Especially when Ellis spotted you two walking back in with your hands intertwined. 

“Oh, Mama is taking the money home.” She yelled, causing a few people’s necks to turn. 

A chorus of reactions followed, laughter, whistles, someone shouting something you chose not to fully process, and you felt your face heat as you ducked your head slightly, squeezing Jack’s hand.

“Don’t,” you muttered under your breath, half laughing. “Don’t entertain them.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, completely unfazed, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

Santos leaned against the table, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across her face. “About damn time,” she called out.

“Shut up,” you shot back, though there was no real bite to it.

“Be safe,” Robby added, shaking his head but smiling anyway. “And for the record, I want details later.”

“You’re not getting anything,” Jack cut in smoothly, already guiding you past them.

“Liar,” someone called after you, and it sent another round of laughter through the group.

”I’ll get the details.” Samira called out, very sure of herself. 

You offered quick goodbyes, half distracted, your attention already shifting elsewhere, and Jack didn’t slow, his hand steady in yours as he led you through the crowd and toward the exit despite their protests to stay longer. 

“Let her get laid!” You heard Santos yelling, before you were hit with the chill night air. 

“Still with me?” Jack asked, glancing down at you as he guided you toward the parking lot.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking up at him. “I’m with you.”

His truck came into view a few rows down, and that familiar ache began burning up your spine once again. 

“Good,” he said, quieter now, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer before he reached for the passenger door. 

Now, Jack Abbot was a responsible man, everyone knew this. Despite his affinity for dangerous and adrenaline-seeking hobbies, he was very safe and responsible with everyone but himself. So when his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, while your hands were slipping into his pants, making it impossible for him to focus on the road, he had no choice but to pull the car into the PMTC back parking lot. 

He worked there for long enough to know that the cameras stopped working back here a decade ago, and no one even bothered with the desolate corner. 

As soon as the car was pulled into park, seatbelts were off and he was pulling you onto his lap. 

“Greedy little girl, just couldn’t fucking wait.” He groaned playfully, pushing up the fabric of your dress up your stomach. 

“Please,” You huffed, shimmying out of your underwear above him. “You’re the one who couldn’t wait. I barely got my hands on you and you almost pulled over right then and there.” 

“Can you blame me?” His mouth watered as your tits spilled out, your glistening cunt hovering above his lap. 

“Get these, off.” You whined, your hands tugging at his jeans. 

He felt like a horny teenager, his old bones aching as he tried to maneuver around in the front seat of his truck. It took a few unsexy moves and leaning the seat back for his boxers to get pushed down his legs successfully. 

“S’fucking big.” Your eyes were wide, watching his heavy cock fall against his stomach. Barely unable to hold itself up from the sheer weight. The thick vein that ran up the side of it pulsed under your gaze. 

“Yeah?” He smirked.

”That’s gonna break me in half,” You laugh nervously, despite your cunt merely dripping at the idea of taking him 

“You can take it,” Abbot says, so sure of you that it makes your heart skip a beat. “Ride me, cowgirl.”

A series of cockdrunk giggles leaves your lips when his hand comes down to slap your ass, as you straddle his hips. You’re thankful for his filthy mouth making you wet enough that when his thick tip catches on your entrance it slips in with no hesitation. The burn on the way down makes it grit your jaw, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. 

“There you go,” He whispers, lips leaving kisses on your shoulder. “S’fucking tight, just gotta let me stretch this pussy of yours, m’kay?” 

“F-fuck,” You’re shaking by the time your hips meet his, you’ve never been this full in your life. He’s taking up space in your chest as you try to catch your breath, with each coo of praise he’s whispering into your ear. 

“You okay?” He asked, concern filling his eyes as he pressed small kisses to your lips. 

“Yes,” You whined, kissing him back harshly, “You’re just fucking huge.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

“Yes.” Tears were nearly streaming down your cheeks from how good, how overwhelming it was. 

“Shhhh, I got you, sweetheart.” He promised, and you believed him as he alternated between kissing and sucking wherever his lips could reach while your body adjusted to the stretch of him. 

The first rise and drop of your hips nearly had you passing out, 

“Oh m’god,” you mumbled, both hands gripping his shoulders. “Oh, so good, so fuckin’ good.”

“S’tight.” He said through clenched teeth, watching as you slowly worked up the rhythm. He watched his cock, covered in your slick slide slowly in and out of your cunt. The sight alone had his balls tightening. 

It didn’t take much longer for the pain to turn to pleasure, and for you to find yourself riding him so hard it was taking both of your breaths away. It was the combination of the months of sexual tension exploding into this one moment. 

Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the truck, the windows fogging up almost immediately. 

His hand is on your jaw, as he forces his thumb between your lips. You took it greedily, sucking his thumb in your mouth as you continued grinding against him. Each heavy drag of your clit against the gray patch of hair on his pelvic bone brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You’re so beautiful." His eyes meet yours, unable to pull away. He takes each expression to memory, the desperate moans leaving your mouth, the curve of your tits as they bounced, the furrow of your brows each time he hit just the right spot. 

Jack’s hips buck up suddenly, meeting you halfway when you take a particularly long time grinding down on him. You gasp, tightening your hand on him, your nails digging harshly into his chest.

“Just like that, oh fuck. y'r gonna make me cum, shit," You manage to cry out, as he fucks up into you with all the strength that he can muster. He knows he’ll be sore tomorrow, but none of that matters with how good you feel wrapped around him.

“F-fuck me too, baby you gotta cum first.” He stutters out, slightly panicked by how fast his orgasm has crept up on him. 

“I’m so close.” You nearly sobbed, your mouth wide drooling into his shirt as his cock hit the same spot from earlier that had you making a mess on his hands. 

“I’m- fuck-" his mouth opens on a guttural groan as he pulses hot inside of you, holding you down on his cock so hard that you have to lean forward and bite into his shoulder to process it. 

This is all it takes for you to cum with him, your second orgasm hits you like a fucking train. More satisfying than the first as you squeeze around him, your cunt suckling in every drop of his release. 

You’re too sore to move once his hips still, both of you clinging to each other like a lifeline. The air is thick with sweat and sex, and you can only imagine how his truck looked from the outside. 

He’s drawing soft circles on your back with his fingers, as you catch your breath. 

“I can’t believe we waited so long to do that.” You broke the silence, causing a chuckle to escape his chest. 

“S’your fault.” 

You faux gasp, “Is not!”

”Is so.” He teases, with no real heat in his tone.

”You should have bent me over the gurney and fucked me that one day I did a pigtail cathedor without you and you came back with stars in your eyes.” You admitted, feeling his softening cock twitch inside of you despite itself.

He pinched your hip playfully, “You’re lucky I’m not 20 years younger, or I’d flip you into the backseat and fuck that mouth of yours.” 

“Nah,” You lift off of him with a wince, immediately mourning the loss of him. “I like you just how you are, old man.” 

“Old man.” He grumbled, helping you back into the passenger seat. Thankful he’s overprepared, he cleans you up with a clean towel as both of you redress. 

The truck rocked just enough to make you both pause for half a second before dissolving into quiet laughter, the kind that came from adrenaline finally settling and the sheer ridiculousness of it all catching up at once. Your head tipped back against the seat, breath uneven, the cowboy hat taunting you both as it sat on the dashboard. 

You nudged his arm lightly, still smiling. “So-“

He turned toward you then, one arm resting along the back of the seat, his gaze steady but warm in a way that made your chest tighten just a little.

“So,” He mimics you, “This is the part where I realize I should’ve taken you out on a proper date first.”

You raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Should’ve?”

He leaned in just slightly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him again, but this time slower, easier.

“Will,” he corrected. “Definitely will.”

You smiled at that, softer now, reaching down blindly until your fingers found the cowboy hat and placed it back on his head with a crooked tilt.

”You think you can handle me, cowboy?” 

You notice a plaque screwed into the back of the bench from the corner of you eye, twisting to sit sideways so you can run your finger over the inscription, “Where I will forever come to remember your love.”

“One black coffee because there were no other options.” Sam’s voice draws your attention.

You thank him, taking the cup from him as he mirrors the way you’re sitting, facing you as he rests one arm on the bench. “Look.” You pout, pointing at the inscription.

He leans in to read it, just like you’d done. “That’s sweet. I wonder who it’s for.”

“It looks pretty new.” You comment, taking a sip of your drink. “Oh my god, but that might make it sad. Maybe they just lost them.”

You’re off on a tangent now, suddenly reminded of another topic you’d meant to tell him about yesterday. Your face is so animated when you talk like this, and he could listen to you go on for hours, never knowing where you’d end up but loving it every time.

Your voice fades out when you realize how intently he’s watching you, an amused smile on his face. “What?” A smile creeps onto your own lips as he leans in, kissing you softly.

“I just love when you do this.” He says simply.

You flush, in part from the kiss, but also from the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure anyone has ever so visibly cared about what you were saying. But this is always how he looks at you, even when you’re just existing in the space around him. Even when you’re not in the room, but your name comes up, or he thinks of you.

Sam can’t help it.

He’s in love with you, and it’s written all over his face for the world to see.

“Ramble on forever?” You question, teasingly, but he responds with sincerity. “Yes.” His eyes soften. “Keep going.”

lenient was gentle, soothing. that was sam telling you in an oh-so-soft tone, “i understand you're upset, sweetheart, but you need to calm down.” all while caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

on the other hand, harsh was stern and authoritative. that was sam dragging you back to the impala and having his way with you in the backseat . . . 

“sammy, jus' eat it n' make me cum,” you still had some fight in ya, cute. 

he shakes his head as both an answer and a teasing mechanism. he pulls away from your pussy, replacing his tongue with his fingers. the lewd squelching n' sloshing of your pussy fills the air. 

he pistons them juuuust right against the nerves of your cute g-spot. he juts and scrapes against your walls as well before curling them up, up, up until your toes curl and your heels dig into his back. 

his tone is firmer with you, leaving no room for discussion. "i told you earlier to calm down, angel; now stop squirming and take it," he says while adding consistent pressure as your cunt flutters and clenches around his fingers. your eyes cross when he grinds you on his digits. 

“ah–don’t do that,” you cry as the pressure in your tummy tightens. “m'gonna cum, sammy,” you tell him, wishing you could grip those shaggy brown strands of his, but when being punished, sam deprived you of touching him. 

“don't you dare, or else you won't cum at all,” he warns with a wet, punishing slap to your mound. 

sam drives his fingers deeper before sending a few more rounds of slaps against your cunt. and once that choked, sharp moan leaves your throat, your boyfriend moves faster than light itself, slamming your pussy against his face.

“mmn, can't hold it, gonna make a mess,” you meet his gaze with the glossiest eyes and the biggest pout, undoubtedly swaying him. 

“go ahead, sweetheart, cum all over my face,” and you do. your body goes taut as clear liquid ejects from you in pulses. your head falls back against the seat as a symphony of wanton moans echo around the vehicle. 

sam doesn't move, eagerly drinking down the spout of liquid. you can hear his gulps as your body shakes and his mouth widens, not missing a single drop. he then grinds your heat against his face as more weak spurts flow into his mouth. 

sam pulls away once the aftershocks of your orgasm subside, and instantly goes back to the caring boyfriend you had thirty minutes ago. 

wiping his mouth with his forearm, he asks, “all better now, sweetheart?” 

LAWDDDD i #needdat 

xo, blissedbunni