no matter if you’re stubborn and cuddly or fucked out to the point your legs are incapacitated or you’re asleep. he’d scoop you into his arms, carrying you, naked and warm, to his ensuite bathroom. placing you down on the toilet, he’ll barely give you any privacy, simply ordering telling you to pee, leaving no room to argue.

if he left you in a better, more clear-minded state after fucking the lights out of you, you would definitely feel more embarrassed. sat naked, on the toilet, ordered to pee while the man in front you is hardly even turned away. treating you like a child, he’d simply have turned away to grab a small towel from the rack, running it under warm water to wipe your thighs clean after you're done.

when you're finished on the toilet, he’d lift you onto the marble counter of his bathroom and wipe your thighs and swollen cunt clean. tired and dazed, watching brendon, the look on his face is almost akin to his in the OR. like wiping your wetness and his cum off of your skin needs skilled concentration and precision.

once he’s done, he’d scoop you up again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. placing you down on the edge of his rumpled bed, he’ll get you a t-shirt of his from his dresser. not telling you to put it on yourself, he puts it on for you, the - definitely %100 organic cotton - fabric pools at your hips. 

before joining you, brendon puts on a clean pair of boxers and quickly grabs you both glasses of water from his kitchen. placing them down on both nightstands, he’d get into bed beside you where you’re curled up, tucked under the duvet, and make you take several large sips of water before finally letting you rest.

he’d wrap around you like a boa constrictor too, big arms wrapped around your waist pressing you into his hard chest, his head tucked between your neck and shoulder. you’d fall asleep drowned in brendon, in his scent, his aftershave, his bed, his clothes, him, all too happily.

oh, and if you try to fight him on any of this? you’d either get another round, or a stern lecture on uti’s and the importance of rehydration after sex.

It all happened at an awful time. The other attending that was meant to be on shift along with Dr Park had called in sick, and there wasn’t anyone else they could call in. Night shift could be called in early and that’s all, which meant the majority of the shift Park was the only Ortho attending on shift.

Meaning he had to supervise all the residents on shift while being a surgeon himself, which had snowballed out of control before it was even lunch. He spent nearly his whole afternoon in surgery, with nurses and residents with more seniority poking their heads in frequently to ask questions.

You had been assisting on the surgery for nearly 4 hours, along with two other residents, one a year above you while the other is in the same as you. The second to last screw was being carefully put back when Dr Park had decided to send you down to the ER in place of him. He knew they wouldn’t be too happy, but they needed a consult urgently, and beggars can’t be choosers, in his mind.

So, you may have taken longer downstairs than needed. You needed a breather honestly, and were praying they’d finished the surgery by the time you were back - or at least didn’t call you back in. The looks you had received from your fellow residents made you glad looks can’t kill, but you’d be long dead if they could anyways.

It again solidified the amount of trust Park has in you, and not them. Unlike other units you could be sent to for consults, the ED would send your ass right back to where you came from if you weren’t an attending, and Park knew this and decided to send you down.

You poked your head into a few cases before heading back, a 8 year old who broke his arm at baseball, a 31 year old guy who popped his left shoulder of the socket at his construction job, and a 42 year old women who dropped an extremely heavy marble cutting board on her foot and shattered multiple bones. Just on your way to the elevator, you told yourself, even thought they definitely weren’t.

Dr Park had been in a fucking mood when you left, his pissy mood leeching out to everybody else and creating a very tense and argumentative operating room. You’d stayed as silent as possible, though you were just stewing in your own frustration, and avoiding annoying the nurses or Park more than they already were.

Although it obviously wasn’t one of the longest surgeries he’s done, he doesn’t usually have three residents with him and people constantly coming into his OR and asking questions or nagging him. On a normal day, he has a short capacity for bullshit and unnecessary questions, but today it is next to none, and everyone was testing his patience. Especially the other two residents assisting, both classic Ortho bros who seem to have a penchant for unnecessarily questioning and just annoying him.

The ride back upstairs you spent in peaceful silence, something you were sure you wouldn’t have any of until you went home at some point tonight. Leaving the elevator at your floor, you walked through the corridors that always felt so quiet after being in the ED, back to the OR that you left only an hour ago. Park told you to come back after the consult, so that’s exactly what you’re doing. Rounding a corner, you met eyes with the man you were looking for.

The look in his eyes welded your feet to the floor, your own eyes widening as he walks over to you. You can see just in the gate he walks how strung tight he is, looking like he’s about to explode - on you. You brace yourself for a long, borderline yelling loud lecture as he takes his last step towards you.

“Dr Park, I am so sorry,” you began meekly, practically quivering under the weight of his stony stare, “I got caught up in the ER and—“

“It’s fine,” he interrupts shortly, in that way where his words sound like gospel - where there’s absolutely not any room for argument. “Come with me,” he tells you, continuing, and placing a large hand on your bicep, steering you with him.

“I— Okay,” you agree, surprised, like there was any room to disagree as he leads you back the opposite way you came, his arm tight around your shoulders.

Park leads you through the corridors with the patient rooms, his grip like steel. At the end of hall he goes right, toward the few offices on this floor, instead of left to the nurse station like you’d expected. Without a word, he brings you to his office, letting go of your shoulders in favour of guiding you through the door with a hand on your lower back. You, for a lack of better judgement, haven’t said anything either, not as he led you away, not as he went right, not as you step inside, and not as he shuts the door behind him.

Dr Park turns to you from the door, his gaze heavy, but not cold like usual - burning hot in a way you have only ever seen while under him. It sends a pang of arousal through you, settling in your cunt with a throb. That look should’ve scare you, hell, this whole walk to his office you should’ve been nervous as hell and thinking about excuses for why you were at the ED so long.

But something extraordinarily stupid in your brain just shuts off when your body knows he’ll take control of it for you, all of you. Especially where you know wetness will be pooled in a few minutes.

“You okay with this?” Dr Park asks, correctly assuming you already know his intentions are the opposite of pure. His hand lingers on the door handle, fingers ghosting over the lock.

Before you even think about it, you’re nodding vehemently. You’d feel embarrassed at your eagerness if you weren’t blinded by the excitement coursing through you, a twisted kind that left you solely focused on the riled man stood in front of you. He twisted the lock, an audible click coursing through the tense room, leaving a sense of finality in its wake.

Finality, that that you’re all too excited for, imagining all the ways this could play out. Alone together, in his dark office - an office that might as well be sound proof with the amount of people around here - with Dr Park, who obviously needed some kind of release. You’d previously assumed that release would be lecturing you, until the only thing coming out of the conversation is his enjoyment of listening to his own voice. But watching him take the few steps toward you solidified any fears of that, are long gone, and what’s left is the thrill of the mystery of whatever’s going to play out next.

It felt like a flash as Park guided you to the front of his wooden desk, kicking the chair that blocked you from being flush against the desk out of the way, picking you up by the waist and placing you on the edge of his desk with little strain. Before it even registered to you, he’s pulling off your scrub bottoms, dropping to his knees between your legs and tugging the polyester and your shoes off from around your ankles.

Looking up at you, as commanding as ever, from between your bare legs, he told you, “Don’t move, and do not make a sound.”

You hardly had any time to react before Park is tugging down your panties - a simple, old cotton pair that you feel oddly embarrassed about. It’s not like the previous pairs of your underwear he’s seen were any more glamorous, but he always makes you feel incredibly intimidated and out of your depth. Always leaving you wanting to impress him. It makes sense - he is your attending after all.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, a cold ball of spit lands directly on your clit, shocking your system. Utterly appalled, you watched as he shoved his face between your thighs, his rough tongue dragging up through your folds to the apex of your cunt.

You were too surprised to really feel anything, until Park pulled back the hood of your clit, sucking hard on the small bud until his cheeks hollowed. That definitely made you feel something, shocks of pleasure rushing through you and making you squirm against his mouth. His hands shot up to your thighs in response, pushing them further apart and holding them there firmly, giving the soft skin a hard squeeze.

What you were expecting when Park dropped to his knees in front of your pussy, you weren’t sure, but it certainly wasn’t him eating you out. You’d hooked up with him before, sure, once or twice or thrice, but he’d never done this before. You’d just assumed that wasn’t something he’s into, which you had no qualms with. It wasn’t like you’d ever sucked him off either.

Unending with his lips wrapped tight around your clit, even with your squirms, Park leans up, shifting you so you’re on your back, his hands pushing your knees to your chest. With better purchase to your cunt, he goes feral, releasing his lips to rapidly lick up and down your folds, gathering the wetness that was pooling at your entrance. He moved back up, rapidly flicking your exposed clit with his newfound fervour. He wrapped his lips around your bud again, flicking his tongue against it whilst sucking.

You didn’t release the sounds falling from you until Park looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his. His, that tells you everything you need to know through a look - Shut the hell up. A wave of embarrassment washes through you, clasping your mouth shut at the realisation.

Another wave washes through you after, a much stronger one caused by another, stronger suck on your clit, accompanied by another lick through you. Your head hit the wooden desk beneath you as Park spits another ball of saliva onto you, spreading it through your folds with his fingers and watching a mix of his saliva and your wetness drip down to your ass.

A strangled noise left you as Park dives fucking right back in, ravaging you again until you’re so consumed by him you can’t make sense of what he’s doing with his mouth.

Embarrassingly quickly you feel a familiar heat light in your lower stomach, feeling like a kind of calm before the storm. That fire spreads, fast, alight in every limb, every muscle, bone, vein.

Your hand shoots out, grabbing for something to find purchase on, and almost reaching for the head between your thighs. Even in your foggy head, you realised Park would absolutely kill you if you fucked up his perfectly gelled hair.

Your hand instead goes for the next best thing - his shoulder, his very clothed shoulder. Ending up just grabbing a handful of navy fabric, you’re happy enough, letting a warning wave of pleasure crash through you.

Your release comes fast after, with another embarrassing noise and your legs trembling in Park’s hold. His mouth worked you through your orgasm, leaving you panting and whining unabashedly.

“Park!” you yelp when he keeps going, attacking your overly sensitive clit directly. You hadn’t really been expecting anything from him, but to your surprise—

“Brendon. It’s Brendon, baby,” he corrects you, his voice rougher than his usual sharpness.

Brendon stands, leaning over you to press his open mouth to yours. His tongue barges into your mouth before you can even think, invading every centimetre. The taste of your cunt colonised your tase buds, but his assault didn’t leave any time for thoughts.

Abruptly Brendon pulled away, slotting his head between your thighs again. Your knees fell slack against his shoulders, his lips connecting to you clit again in an instant just as his pager started beeping. He groaned, pulling away from you and tugging it off his waist band to read the message.

“Shit,” Brendon mutters, standing and clenching his jaw. “I need to go.”

“Oh,” you mumble, pushing yourself up into a sit. You felt embarrassed, watching that familiar shark look form on his face again while your bottom half’s completely bare.

Brendon put his pager back and leaned down, pulling your panties up your legs and on your hips. Still just hovering over you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead unexpectedly. Maybe he does still have some of that heat from earlier left.

Brendon steps back, nearing the door. His hand dips into the waist band of his scrubs, and apparently boxers, drawing your eyes there. You watch as he drags his dick up, tucking it into his waistband for discretion.

“Meet me after shift in the parking lot, you know my car,” Brendon tells you, right before turning the lock on the door handle and leaving. Leaving you high and wet.

You’re left sat on the desk in his office, your shoes and pants strewn on the floor in front of you.

There’s a bruising grip on your hips that is literally holding up your whole lower half, knees bent and digging into the soft mattress while your upper half is slack laying down. Your back was previously forced down into an arch, letting Brendon’s cock repeatedly hit your g-spot with each hard thrust, and it had progressively gotten lower as you went slack.

Your moans whines filled the room, though muffled they’re definitely the dominating sound, the embarrassingly loud wet sounds coming from between your legs only second. Adding to the embarrassment you definitely should be feeling, Brendon’s groans are only occasional and barely even a sound.

A sharp slap comes down on your ass, followed quickly by a hard squeeze to the poor skin. A sick part of you perked up at that, pushing back into his grip.

“That’s my girl,” Brendon praised, before delivering another sharp slap to your other ass cheek. A pitchy yelp escaped you in response.

Feeling his balls start to tighten against his will, Brendon dropped one of his hands down to your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud with his rough hand. Pleasure shocked through you at the sudden touch, your overstimualed clit pulsing at the mix of pain and pleasure. After what was not even a minute, your slick walls tighten around the impossible girth of Brendon’s cock.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, letting your head rest on its side as your mouth goes slack as waves of pleasure threaten to take over.

Brendon’s thrusts quicken, the circles drawn on your clit growing harder and faster, but no less controlled, his hands always working with clinical precision. He could feel, and see, you’re getting close again, your pussy impossibly tight and your clit throbbing against his fingers. His balls are so fucking full and tight he’s sure even a light squeeze would send himself over the edge - but him, coming before you, even after multiple orgasms? Yeah, hell no.

Unexpectedly soon, you felt a coil in your stomach tightening, your thighs growing shakier and then, suddenly, a heat washed over your stomach and your pussy spasmed, sending you tumbling over the edge with a multitude of moans and embarrassing whines and squeals. Brendons fingers didn’t stop their assault, nor his cock, watching wave upon wave of your release crash over you.

Brendon’s jaw clenched, knowing he could finally release now, but he was just missing something. His torso bent over you, his mount pressing wet kisses between the notches of your spine, working their way up. When he reached the top, he pressed his sweaty forehead to your warm shoulder, letting groan after groan leave him, along with traitorous spurts of pre leaking from him deep inside you.

Brendon’s lips pressed against your sharp shoulder blade, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash clinging to your skin and the distinct smell of you. His mouth unintentionally open against your skin, until his tongue peaked out, the muscle tracing the sharp bone hidden beneath layers of skin and fat he knew all too well with his work.

“Bren…” you whined weakly, the aftershocks of your orgasm subsiding and your pussy growing painfully overstimulated.

That broken sound of your voice, the feel of your skin and bone beneath his tongue, the soft flesh of your hip in his hand, and the dripping wet flesh of your pussy cumulatively sent him falling to his release. Hot, thick spurts of cum painting your cervix as Brendon had come to a stop at the hilt inside you. Deep strained groans tumbled from him as his heavy balls released inside you, his face surely red from shocks of pleasure rushing through his system.