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Entering the living room you walked behind the couch tilting Robby’s head back before pecking him on the lips. Moving towards the kitchen you wrap your arms around Jack's waist as you press your lips to his shoulder, turning his head in response and pressing his own to your forehead. You lifted yourself onto the counter sitting close to where he was cutting and swung your legs a few times before calling Robby over. 

 “Mikey can you come here please?” slathering your voice in honey and raising the volume just slightly so that he could hear you from the other room.

“Oh goodness,” He began as he made his way towards the two of you, “that tone always means she’s been thinking” Robby says as he enters the kitchen.

“Don’t I know it, and it rarely ever means anything less than borderline illegal” Jack chimes in not taking his eyes off of the bell pepper he had on the cutting board.

“Okay first of all ouch, second of all its just a small teensy thought that’s been brewing in my brain,” you take a minute to pull Robby between your legs, a position that has the two men separated only by your thigh, “have you two ever, I don’t know, kissed?” 

Robby’s hands that had been rubbing up and down your thighs had halted in their movements, and Jack’s own hand that had been holding the knife slipped causing a sharp breath to escape his nose at the narrow miss of his fingers. Two pairs of eyes looked at you before sharing a subtle look out of their peripheral vision. 

“Why, uh, why do you ask kid?” Robby was the first to break the prolonged silence trying to remain neutral, but that tell tale blush ratted him out every time. 

“Well, I ask because I’ve just been noticing some stuff between you guys.” you take the time to wrap a hand around each of their forearms, "I'm not judging or anything. I mean we are already in an unconventional relationship, but I want you both to know that this is a safe place to explore you know” 

“Sweetheart, I-” Jack's tone had his usual dismissal to it when there was something he was avoiding.

“No, what the two of you aren’t going to do is lie to me. I have been seeing the longing looks when you think the other isn’t looking or the touches. I also definitely know you both like to touch each other when you’re balls deep inside of me so don’t sit there and tell me that I’m wrong” 

Fixing them with a hardened gaze as they stutter their way through an explanation. A look that you didn’t loosen as you locked it in on Robby, the one who was more likely to confess what they were holding back . 

“Once,” He looked down as his hands pulled off of you, shoving them deep into his pockets, “I don’t even know if you remember this Jack, but it was many years ago at a party when we were both residents.”

“I remember,” a gentle and small interruption comes from Jack as he tries to catch Robby’s eyes that were expertly avoiding both you and him. 

“You seemed like you were pretty drunk and I told you I was too, I only had one beer though. It started as a dare from someone, but honestly I was just looking for an excuse,” Robby paused as he dared to look up at you. He was so scared of the disgusted look you would have but he was only met with encouragement, so he continued, “It lasted a lot longer than the quick kiss it was supposed to be, but when you started to reach for me I just got scared.” 

“Scared of what Mike?” Jack had put down the knife and turned so that his whole body faced Robby.

“I was scared of how much I liked it, I-I’m not supposed to y’know” His eyes glistened with moisture, “And I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we had so I just left. I told you I was wasted and never brought it up again.”

Silence engulfed the kitchen, while you had settled a hand back onto his elbow that you could now reach as he leaned closer. However you stayed silent, wanting this to be between them. They needed to talk this through and you knew that.

“Is that why you never talked about it? Because you thought you did something wrong, or that it didn't mean anything but a silly dare?” Jack was careful not to overwhelm him. Settling for capturing his ever evasive gaze instead of touch, he left that to you who still had a grip on his arm. 

“Michael Robinavitch, you listen to me. You are not wrong, nor did you do anything wrong.” His eyebrows raised in emphasis, “I wasn’t as drunk as you think either. I tried to flirt with you for so long afterwards but you kept turning away and I never knew why. And all this time you’ve just held this to yourself?” 

Small streams of tears escaped from Robby’s almost hopeful eyes, hopping off the counter you embraced him tightly. Pulling back slightly to peer into his eyes for permission before pulling him into a gentle kiss, you felt the warmth of Jack's body creep behind before you felt his hands graze your back before moving them slowly to where Robby’s hands rested on you. Slowly moving them up Robbys arms, leaning his head beside yours you understood what he was trying to do. 

Coming away from Robby he began to try and chase your lips before his chin was tilted towards your left where he was pulled into Jack's awaiting lips. You watched from your position, slightly smushed between them. It began slow and hesitant on Robby’s side but it wasn’t long before it became more heated as Jack slipped his tongue between his lips. A groan was released from a deep place within his chest, one that wasn’t just filled with pleasure but catharsis. 

From that night on It took time and patience to re-learn each other, allowing an environment that made Robby understand that he was loved. It took some time before he himself was comfortable with initiating touches or kisses between just him and Jack. And even longer before they began exploring each other in the bedroom. 

At first they always had you there, in between or next to them. It was more for Robby as Jack was seemingly more comfortable in his desires, so you encouraged them to try it out when it was just them. All it took was you making an offhand statement that was thrown out before heading to a night shift that you had picked up. A simple ‘you know you’re more than welcome to have fun without me, God knows I’ve had one on one time with the two of you’. It seemed like that was all it took, your permission, because at the end of the shift when you got home you were greeted with two naked men whose limbs were still entangled with each other in the soft sheets of the shared california king bed.  

______________________________________

After months of what could only be described as a continuous positive feedback system of love in your relationship, it felt freeing. At home Robby and Jack were looser, sillier, and kinder to themselves. And even at work Jack’s mood had been clearly changed, clocked by almost everyone, on both days and nights. He was extremely flirty at work, with constant suggestive comments and small touches that were caught every time. Ones that you knew would absolutely breed rumors, and you knew all too well what rumors could do. 

Every time he would stand just 2cm from you or brush a hair out of your face people stared. Every time he openly called you beautiful, gorgeous, and sexy, the people were left with mouths gaping open. And don't get them started on the neck kiss that was brief but happened out in the open of the nurses station. 

Robby’s demeanor change was less harsh, it was subtle. He was more patient with his students and residents, more empathetic. He was making sure to take time to step back and breathe if it got too much, something he used to never allow himself to do. And between the two of you at work he was much less obvious than Jack. Robby only allowed himself to touch you in the hidden corners of the ED, not because he was embarrassed. No, never that, But more because you were still technically a day shift resident and he was still your direct supervisor. 

Many didn’t notice how the lock on the bathroom was red for 20 minutes, or that if they stuck their ear to the door they could hear breathy gasps and giggles filled by a harsh shhh. Not many saw how he almost reached for you every time you passed by or how he would inhale the light scent of your perfume when you walked past him. Nor did they notice the red blush that ran from his neck to his cheeks every time he left the supply closet not long after you, and the color was absolutely aiding in the hiding of the blooming marks on his neck.

No one truly noticed much about Robby's change, and he wanted to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted to do was sabotage the attending position you had applied to (one that he knew you already got but couldn't say). Which is why the three of you decided not to say anything to anyone until it officially went through. However, they weren't subtle enough to go completely unseen by the little pittlings, the ever so observant students that noticed how little Robby was riding their ass lately and that Abbot hadn’t been to the roof in a while.

“Im telling you something is different” Trinity marched up to the group at the lockers. A group that comprised of; Dennis, Javadi, Mel, Samira, and one of the new med students Joy. 

“Do you think it has anything to do with that bet from before?” came the timid voice of Mel.

“No I don't think so, she hasn’t said anything more came of it just the bet and thats it” Samira added in finishing up her chart, you and her were fairly close friends since both were in your R4 year. Having worked together for a while she felt that you would have told her. 

“Wait, what bet?” Joy and Javadi asked simultaneously, both had been a little lost as Joy hadn’t started yet and Javadi used to try and stay out of bets when she first came to the PTMC.

“Oh we made a bet on if they got bushes or not since huckleberry over here is smoother than a dolphins ass naturally-”

“It's a condition!”

“So we sent  cutie patootie over there to figure it out. Which turned out great for her” 

Trinity smirked as she gave Joy the basics of the events from several months ago. And for everyone but the two younger girls deja vu hit them as that meddling expression made its way back onto Trinity’s face. 

“Oh no, please no” Mel spoke up as she was the first to notice.

“Hear ye, hear ye I declare a new bet” Trinity ushered them all closer, “Okay so Abbot has obviously been acting like a lovesick teenage girl, but Robby has also been giving yearner. So do we think Little miss gone to Paris is dating Abbot or Robby, how long, annndd if the other one knows”

“I call holding the money” that was no surprise to anyone  there as Mel once again backed out. 

“Abbot for sure, since the bet, and Robby knows but he's upset” Joy's confidence bled through with every decision, even though she didn’t really know these people, she was extremely observant. 

“No, absolutely not.” Javadi shook her head, "she's definitely dating Robby, about three months ago, and Abbot doesn’t know thats why hes still flirting”

“Ooh both are good points, I'll do the same bet as Javadi but five months. All because he hasn’t gotten on my case once for any of the tests I’ve ordered.” Samira had been thinking a lot about the encouragement that she's gotten from her attending. What she doesn’t know is how you called Robby out on his dick behavior one day and threatened him with no sex for a month if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass.

“I don’t think she's dating either, but I think they’re both fighting for her attention and both know it” Dennis didn’t want to think of the people he looked up to in compromising situations so he went the safe route.

“Nah, shes absolutely fucking Abbot, and Robby doesn’t know but he wants to be with her” Trinity was confident in her bet, feeling as if she knew the dynamic best since she started the first bet. 

Since this bet was a bit more intense they all agreed to hand over 100$, making the pool a whopping 500$. And the first one to get proof or witness a definitive action won. However, the bet was about to get way out of hand before the end of the shift even started. 

Right after they all gave Mel the money and shook on it they walked by the break room where they could’ve sworn they heard your laugh. They waited just a little longer before they heard your giggle once more, except this time it was followed by the distinct sound of Jack Abbots voice.

“C’mon sweetheart, your shift hasn’t started yet and I missed you”

“Jackie stop” your airy giggles contradicted your words, “we swore not to do this at work anymore!” 

They all peeked through the door that was slightly ajar, each stacked on top of one another as if it was a cartoon. With Dennis on the bottom and Samira at the top, the scene before them was Dr. Jack Abbott with his lips glued to your neck and hands under your scrub top grabbing at the exposed skin as it rode up. Jaws dropped as they stayed long enough to see your fingers curl into his hair and pull- no- push him into you as he made his way to your sternum. They were all locked into the view, not a single one of them noticing the footsteps coming behind them. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph what do you think you’re doing?” The thick accent of Dana broke the trance of the group huddled by the break room. 

“We’re just-”

“Absolutely nothing-”

“Uhm I don’t-”

“I gotta go-”

The group quickly dispersed just to re-congregate at the hub, away from Dana and the two of you in the break room. 

“Well that was quick” Trinity began, “but hey points to me Joy” the two quickly high five.

“Yeah but now we need to know if Robby knows.” Dennis watched as the Attending in question walked past them to the lockers. 

“Good thing we have all shift to watch them.” Samira pointed out as she left to begin report.

______________________________________

Robby was becoming increasingly confused by the behavior of his fellow doctors. It was borderline worrisome. All day it seemed as if every time he tried to get a moment alone with you one of the med students or residents would pop out of the woodworks and keep a very close eye on the two of you. Something you, yourself noticed as well. 

And it was something that made you increasingly irritable. Abbot had already left you wound up just before he clocked out, the only reprieve he gave you was knowing you had Robby this shift. Except every single time you tried to pull him away to get his hands on you the hairs stood on the back of your neck screaming that you were being watched. The longer you went without Robby’s touch the grumpier you got.

“Hey, can I present a case to you?” The sweet kind voice of Dennis came through your ears, but unfortunately for him you were beyond annoyed.

“Does it look like I have time for that, Whitaker? There is an hour left in this shift and I have too much to do” you gestured to the papers beside you and the microphone mid dictation in front of you. 

“Oh so-sorry I just thought-”

“Well you didn’t think hard enough, just bring it to Samira” you rolled your eyes as he walked away with his head hung low. 

You missed how Robby had seen you all but yell at Dennis, and how he had gone to Javadi looking upset who had also watched everything go down. So it caught you by surprise when Robby’s voice broke through the small silence that had settled.

“Hey, can I speak to you for a moment?” HIs deep firm tone rattled around your brain and settled deep into your core. All but creaming your pants as you looked up and saw his glasses low on his nose as he crooked a finger signaling you to follow him.

As Dennis and Javadi were talking about what had happened they caught you walking off with Robby. Thinking nothing of it other than a quick chastizing, they both headed to present the case to Samira. However, when they came back they saw you and Robby were still nowhere to be seen. So of course the two coworkers went to go see what both of you were up to, not once thinking about how curiosity killed the cat. 

Passing by the supply room they saw you two enter earlier, they looked into the  small window, one that had the blinds just barely open but enough of an angle they could see in. So as they each peeked in they were also close enough to catch an earful of words they never thought they’d hear from Robby.

“Is that what you needed, kid? Needed my fingers knuckle deep in that pretty cunt?”

“Fuck Mikey, y-yes”

The two outside the room pulled away from the window and made eye contact with each other, mouthing ‘mikey?’ before looking back in.

“Gotta be quiet baby, don’t want the whole floor hearing how desperate you are”

For both the parties it was thankful that the lewd sound of your squelching arousal was quiet enough that the ones outside couldn’t hear.

“B-but Jack” now of course this was meant to insinuate that if he was here, he would want to join in. But that's not what the ones outside interpreted it as, especially not with Robby’s next statement.

“He’s not here yet, so he doesn’t have to know”

Javadi’s hand shot over her mouth as she covered her gasp, Dennis himself was beet red at the thought that his senior R4 was cheating on his attending with his other attending. It was absolutely messy. So the two did what they thought was best, they immediately told everyone. The gossip circle that met in the breakroom was taken aback at the new information. Never did they think something like this could be going on, nor did they think that you could be capable of cheating. They thought too highly of you for that, so the next logical group thought was that Robby was using the power dynamic to coerce you. That had them angry at the older man, angry for both you and Jack. 

Harsh whispers and words were being exchanged but that all died down when the door opened and in walked the new pariah himself. At the sudden silence Robby’s steps halted in surprise. 

“You all good?” he asked as he was on the receiving end of glares and uncomfortable silence. 

“Yeah, we are. How's your best friend, you know Dr. Abbot?” Trinity was the first to subtly confront the man as he finally moved to grab his coffee. 

“Uh, he's good. Just got a new prosthetic so he can manage longer shifts better” 

He nodded absentmindedly as the memory of the three of you putting it to the test with very vigorous night time activities. Specifically the part how you looked up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat while Jack shoved three fingers into his own ass stretching him in preparation. The scene in his mind changed to later in the night when you were on top of him riding him with all you had while Jack pushed his thick cock into him as deep as he could. With Robby balls deep in you and Jack in him that morning after it was his turn to walk into the ED with a slight limp. 

He was quickly brought out of his memories by the man of the hour walking in, and that damned blush blooming from his chest to his cheeks made an appearance. While Robby thought it was a give away of his thoughts, to the younger ones in the room it was incriminating. The blush was clearly indicative of his shame of sleeping with you, Abbott's girlfriend.

“Is there not enough work on the floor for you all?” Jack huffs out at the large crowd under the guise of being mad, but he just wanted to be alone with Robby before clocking in.

Outside the group decided that they were absolutely going to get the three of you to confront each other, but they were unsure how to do that. Well they were until Samira looked at the schedule.

“Guy’s look Abbots working a double tomorrow”

“Yeah but look who isn’t on the schedule” Joy pointed to the lack of your name.

“Fucking damn it!” Trinity gritted her words in frustration, she was angry. Angry at the thought of some of the people she looked up to the most would do something like this. Javadi and Dennis were in a similar boat. 

“Okay well why don't we just get through tomorrow, make him aware we’re angry and then look” Mel pointed to the next day where all three of you were working, “we can try and get them to confront it then” 

All were in agreement over the plan, thinking up all the different ways to implement it, and while the bet had already spiraled into a mess of secrets and confessions it was only about to get worse for all involved. 

______________________________________

“Hey, you want to tell me why all your children are mean mugging you?” Jack saddled next to Robby as he saw him walking out of central 6. 

“Okay so it's not just me? You've seen it too?”

“Uh yeah it's kind of hard to miss, especially when they look at me like Im a puppy who just got kicked” Jack chuckles at the exasperated look Robby has while dragging his hands down his face.

All shift Dennis, Trinity, Javadi, Joy, Samira, and even Mel had been giving Robby the biggest fuck you. Trying to avoid him at all cost they were only presenting to Abbot or Mckay. And when they did need him to sign off on orders or god forbid work a trauma with him sharp snark was thrown into his face. 

It got to the point Robby was almost on the verge of tears wondering what he had done. Jack, seeing Robby’s defeated posture, walked up and motioned for him to follow. Similar to how Robby had done with you, Jack led Robby to the supply room. Once the door was closed and locked Jack immediately wrapped his arms around the taller man.

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m sure it’s nothing” Jack mumbled into his shoulders as they shook with every inhale.

“I don’t even know what I did so I can’t even fix it” 

“I know Mike, but this is clearly something they’ll talk about eventually okay?”

Robby nods his head at Jack's words even though he was feeling useless and unwanted. Emotions that Jack could clearly see. So he wasted no time in showing just how loved and wanted he is.

Except  he wasn’t just showing Robby, he ended up showing Samira and Joy as well because apparently none of you can remember to close the blinds. 

So as Samira and Joy passed by and heard Robby voice call out fuck Jack they were sure the two had been in a fist fight. Instead they came upon a locked supply closet, finding themself looking at something neither would have guessed in a million years would be happening. 

Robby leaned his back against the shelves with his mouth hung open, and down at his groin was a head of silver curls moving in a suspicious motion. And while sure they could just assume what was happening wasn’t happening, that was stopped as they heard Robby’s voice again.

“Fuck yes Jack. Taking my cock so fucking good down your throat!” 

A soft noise of wet skin and small gags bled through. It was nothing too loud that it could be heard in the expanse of the hallway, but enough if you had an ear pressed against the window. Which the two women absolutely did. Both had wide eyes and even wider mouths at what was happening. And no matter how crass it got they just couldn’t pull themselves away.

“Just like that good boy, massaging my balls so well. If we weren’t at work I’d have you bent over a bed” Robby grits his teeth and he growls out his words, thrusts becoming more wild as he nears his orgasm. 

And poor Jack was hard as a rock, tip leaking onto the floor as he had one hand on Robby’s thigh and the other furiously stroking his own cock. Vibrations rumbled from Jack's throat and onto Robby’s length at every moan he let loose as he too approached his peak. It wasn’t long before a hand at Jack's head held him as deep as he could while Robby spilled his warm cum down his throat. The sensation caused Jack to shoot cum all over the floor with a little getting on the tip of Robby's shoe. 

Pulling off of Robby’s softening cock he finishes swallowing as Jack is yanked to a standing position. Robby allows him a moment to catch his balance with his prosthetic while he brings them into a messy kiss, licking into his mouth he could taste the burnt break room coffee and the salty tang of himself. They were in their own little world for just a few more minutes before deciding to go out on the floor. Narrowly missing the two figures bolting around the corner. 

“GUYS! GUYS!” a panicked voice called out to Javadi, Dennis, Mel, and Trinity. 

“Woah, what's going on?” Javadi caught the rushing figure of Joy as Samira skidded to a stop beside them.

“We just- just saw, Abbot a-and” Samira takes a moment to inhale a deep breath before finishing her sentence, “He was totally going at it with Jack”

“Okay let me get this straight, or I guess not that straight,” Trinity giggles for just a moment at her own joke, “Jack and the ED princess are cheating on each other with the same dude? AKA our Chief attending Dr. Robby”

“The craziest part is, I now know that Robby is a real man” Joy quipped.

“What the heck does that even mean? So you have to be with a man, to be a man?” Dennis looked at her like he was reconsidering his entire life.

“What no?” holding an incredulous look on her face like he just said the stupidest sentence known to human kind, “Because he’ll kiss you after you suck him off, it takes a real man to do that” Joy finishes with an absentminded smile.

Dennis scrunches up his face in slight disgust but quickly schooled his features as he saw every single woman in the group nod their head, even Mel. And that had him second guessing everything he thought he knew. But that train of thought leaves at the sight of the two men walking back onto the floor. Everyone making quick work in dispersing except for poor Dennis who can't even think straight in this moment. The only thing in his mind is the image of what was just explained in great detail to him and the scene that he himself saw with Robby and you. 

As he resembled the epitome of a deer in headlights the two men walked up to him, patted him on the shoulder and asked if he was okay. No response was made, just mouth open and eyes wide. Both Jack and Robby shared a look with each other before giving the newly minted resident a small nod before they walked off.

______________________________________

The next day arrived quickly much to your upset, you had enjoyed your off day even though you wished both of your boyfriends were off too. It wasn’t super lonely though, as they were texting you all shift about how the pittlings, as you all call each other, were acting weird all day. Which was something you had begun to notice yourself in the last week. 

When they came home you were listening to them rant about how they were acting around them and how unsettling it was, which had you reminiscing about that one day many months ago now they had said the same thing about you. And suddenly it hit you, you had found yourself on the other side of a bet. But for the life of you, you couldn’t conjure up a type of bet that would have them being ostracized. 

The three of you had planned on unveiling this whole operation as soon as you could, deciding that the beginning of the shift you all shared tomorrow was the best. Especially as everyone else was working as well by some miracle, figuring what better time than the present. Except you didn’t get a chance to do it yourself the next day, because as soon as you walked past the break room to go clock in you were snatched by your arm and pulled into the dark room.

“What in the actual fuck?” At your words the lights flicked on, blinking through the harsh adjustment nothing you could have guessed prepared you for what was waiting. 

In front of you were your two boyfriends sat in chairs with Trinity behind Robby and Joy behind Jack. The expression on the women’s faces could kill, and by the looks of your two partners they about did.

“Should I be worried that you’re holding us hostage?” You question as you survey the room seeing how Dennis, Javadi, and Samira were lined up on the wall facing you. 

A small ‘scuse me' sounded from behind you, and Mel scampered past you and to Samira's side. No one had started talking yet so you looked to the two older men and they both shrugged indicating they were just as lost.

“Look I care a lot about you, you know this” started Trinity, “and I want you to know that I- no- we are all extremely disappointed in you”

“I never pegged you for this kind of girl, and I’ve known you for five years” Samira's voice came out distant and sad.

And that had your mind reeling. You felt the blood drain from your face, felt your heartbeat rise as you began to sweat. Had they found out about the three of you? Were they judging you? Were they judging Robby and Jack? Did they find you disgusting? 

The two men watched as your eyes began to dissociate from the situation even as the others continued their accusing words. Watching you spiral set them on edge, filling them with pain as the struggled with the conflicting thoughts of keeping it secret or saying fuck it and going to you.

They decided on fuck it 

“Alright enough!” Jack's voice boomed.

His words set Robby off like a gunshot. Immediately standing up tall and heading to your side, grounding you with his touch as Jack stood one step in front of you two like the guard dog he is. 

“You got something to say, then say it” It was Robby’s turn to chime in. 

He wasn’t loud like Jack but the way his words were coated in anger shocked everyone in the room, even Jack. His thoughts had been similar to yours, and this was his nightmare. This was why he shut Jack out all these years ago. Fear of being found disgusting and burned at the stake for it, his only crime being that he loved someone no one thought he should. 

But with Trinity’s next words his and your inner monologue felt truly melodramatic to the actual situation. 

“YOU’RE ALL CHEATERS!” pointing her finger at the three of you as if waiting for the breakdown to come.

Except it didn’t.

Instead fits of laughter and sighs of relief left the trio. Wiping your eyes with your sleeve you took a deep breath before turning on your best senior resident voice, and fixing each and every one with a stare. 

“Sit down all of you” it was their turn to have eyes go wide with shock. You rarely ever pulled that voice, they loved to call it your ‘mom voice’.

“I want one of you to tell me exactly what is going on, and then I want each of you to share your thoughts. One at a time.” Looking around once more, “is this clear? Blink twice if you understand” 

Blink blink 

It started with Trinity explaining the bet and when it had started and how they all saw you with Jack in the break room. Then Dennis took over and talked about him and Javadi coming across you and Robby in the supply closet. And that had you heating up with embarrassment, but not as much as the two men behind you after Joy took over. 

“Yeah and then Samira and I caught these old ass boy toys going ham in the break room,” She gestured to Robby afterwards, “but also good on yah Dr.Robby” 

“I- wait, what-“

“Okay,” you cut him off, “I am going to say this one time and one time only so you’re going to all shut up and turn your listening ears on”

They all nod in unison.

“We aren’t cheating on each other, with the other. That’s genuinely not possible because we are ALL together. Jack, Michael and I are in a relationship, the three of us together” you went slow as if they were a group of kinders who were learning the alphabet. 

And behind you where you couldn’t see, Jack grabbed Robby’s hand as he saw him visibly stiffen as he waited for the responses. You did notice it however when you stepped back into their space and felt their hand locked together behind your back. It took everyone approximately three seconds to release their own breaths of relief. A mix of words melded together from the group all blending in. You caught a few here and there, some ‘thank god’s’ and ‘why didn’t I think of that’. 

The group began to quiet down as the initial excitement settled into calm thought. But then Trinity who always had something to say turned towards Robby and opened her mouth.

“I didn’t know Peepaw was down like that, Abbot more so ‘cuz like he's old too but chill. The old decrepit man over here though?” Her brows raise as she looks at him in new light, “Honestly respect gramps”

You and Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the confused look that took over Robby’s face, mouthing peepaw with offense. Then looking at the two of you as if you had betrayed him deeply, which only had you gigging more.

“Okay that’s enough kidnapping and hostage taking for one shift, which has now started,” Robby began ushering everyone outside, “shoo children, and enough with the bets” 

He closed the door in their faces before he turned back to the two of you. All three taking a moment to process what the fuck just happened. 

“You know honestly from everything I’ve heard, we need to stop fucking in the supply closet” you’re the first one to break the comfortable silence.

Robby smiles at that as he moves to embrace you, the two of you kissing deeply before he pulls Abbot in and does the same. A weight that none of you realized was there flew off, half of your coworkers now knew and none of them looked at you differently. You knew they wouldn’t, but hearing it still helped. 

“You three lovebirds done here? I need coffee” Dana as always pushes that damn accent thicker when she’s annoyed, while throwing the door fully open. 

She knew about you all. She was actually the first to know. This was due to an incident that occurred within the earlier months of the relationship. Robby had forgotten that Dana had a key and that she mentioned coming by to grab something. So imagine her surprise when she walked into the house only to be greeted by you in a very compromising position between both men in the kitchen. Thankfully for you, you were still mostly dressed, but for obvious reasons Jack and Robby chose to stay behind the counter. 

Parker had also known, but that's because you've decided she was a mind reader. And nothing anyone says can change your mind on this. She took one look at you coming in one night, peeked the car out of the ambulance bay and saw the smallest glimpse of the two who were in it. As you walked past Parker she caught your attention and said good for you girl, departing with a nod and a wink that had you genuinely considered asking her to be the fourth. 

But now most of the people you worked with knew. It was an odd but freeing feeling for all of you. However, it was peaceful for about two hours before a few certain someone’s decided to be funny.

“Hey peepaw? Got a question for yah” Trinity’s voice rang out. She begins her line of questions without even looking up at him. As he gives her the answers she keeps her eyes on the tablet  just nodding and heading back to wherever she came from when he was done.

And you, oh you were sitting right in front across the desk top pretending to chart as you shoved a hand over your mouth as if that would quiet your very loud giggles. But before he could reprimand you, he was cut short by another voice.

“Yo Dr. Gramps? Oglivie is trying to do a fasciotomy by himself!” Joy came around the corner, her hand pointing straight to the room where the student doctor was standing.

He didn’t even have time to dwell on the fact that it was the second person to call him a form of old in a short period of time. Robby was too busy speeding to the room so he could lay a new one onto the young gunner. While you knew the situation was serious and was absolutely no laughing matter, you couldn’t help but laugh about the fact that Robby was going to be known as the modern old man in a throuple to the young kids. 

And much to your delight it was something that continued all shift, peepaw, gramps, papa were all nicknames pulled for Robby today. You expected something similar for Jack or maybe even a little for yourself, but nope. The focus was on the old boss. One he was more than happy to escape when the end of shift came, finally getting a reprieve from the teasing remarks. Walking up to the truck he saw you and Jack counting the money you seemed to have guilted them into giving to you for the trouble they caused.

“Ready to head out?” Jack called as he saw Robby walking up behind you. 

“God yes please!” The answer was immediate, it had been a strange beginning to the day and the longer it went on the ED ended up being the hub for all things crazy today.

“Aww Mikey let me get that for you,” you slid Robby's bag off his shoulder, “wouldn’t want your fragile old back to get a pinched nerve” 

Grabbing it from him you turned around quickly to hide the amusement on your face, but it did nothing to hide the mirth in your tone. Carrying it into the back seat as you hoist yourself in the truck. Robby, however, stood outside for a moment longer shaking his head as he realized this day absolutely wasn’t over like he thought. A sentiment that was enforced by Jack's next choice of words at the grunt Robby had let out when getting in the truck. 

“Damn take it easy old boy, don’t want you breaking any hips. I’d have to call in the shark to fix it, and I don’t think either of us want that” A snicker from you sounds in the back while Jack turns his head pretending that backing up needed his whole attention.

“No, not you too” the exasperation bleeds into his words, tilting his head back to rest against the seat.

“Aww and what do you mean by that Mikey?” you lean forward brushing your hand through his hair as you coo words into his ear, “Did we hurt your feelings by calling you old?”

“We didn’t mean it Mike I promise,” Jack looks over as he comes to a stop at a red light, patting Robby's knee with the hand that wasn't on the wheel.

“Yeah yeah, sure. You know you’re not that much younger than me Jack?” He settles his gaze onto the man driving before turning to look at you in the back, “And you little miss, I expected more out of you.”

Silence fell over the car after a few more shared laughs were released. It wasn't until the three of you were at home that Robby brought up the situation once more. All of you had changed and showered off the sweat from a full shift, the cozy atmosphere had you ready for the next few days off that all of you had together. You were going through the fridge and pulling out the left overs as Jack began plating the food and throwing it in the microwave when Robby came in from his turn at the shower. With sweats hung low on his hips and a faded grey college tee that had ‘Northwestern’ over the front and cut off sleeves from his younger days. 

“You know Stan Lee wrote his first comic at my age?”

“He was 40 Mikey, you’re literally in your 50’s” you rolled your eyes at him. 

“50-ish” Robby countered as Jack just looked at him, seeing just how much being called old all day got to him. Now Jack knew he should probably stop you knowing how insecure Robby could get, but he also had known him for almost 30 years, so he also recognized the building lust behind his eyes. It was well known in your trio that the age gap between the three of you turned you on more than you could voice, but the two men tried to avoid agreeing as it made them seem like two old perves. However, it seemed like tonight that boundary was going to be crossed.

Walking closer to Robby you wrap your arms around his middle and settle your chin into his chest as you look up at him. 

“Poor Mikey, at 50-ish I should probably be more gentle on your knees” that little pout you had on your lips was the death of him. 

“Oh ho ho” Robby’s hands carded through your hair once, twice, and then he gripped it tight, “you’re right, you should be giving my old knees a break. Your’s on the other hand are just fine so do your old man a favor why don’t you?”

Tugging your hair sharply the shooting sting on your scalp had you dropping pretty quickly to the tiled floor as your hands came up to balance yourself on his thighs. Arousal shot through you at his words and strength, but you decided to play into it seeing just how far this would go. Looking over to Jack you meant to start whining about how mean Robby was being, but he just shook his head at you.

“Nope this is all on you sweetheart you decided to poke him about it” lips upturning into a smirk as he begins tugging down his own bottoms, “It’s up to you to get yourself out of it” 

Your cheeks were mushed together as Robby's other hand gripped your face so that it was focused on him. 

“C’mon kid take it out f’me, my hands don’t work so well in my old age” He pats your cheek a few times before letting go and waiting for you to follow through. 

You needed no additional prompting to start pawing at him. With eager hands, you loosened the draw string on his bottoms and tugged them down until his heavy length bobbed up after being freed. The tip was already angry and leaking, begging for attention. Gripping his length with one hand you gave his slit small kitten licks before swirling your tongue around the tip. A groan left his lips at the light kiss you left.

“Im not getting any younger up here kid” 

Robby’s words had you rolling your eyes this time at his teasing, but they also had you complying. Dragging your tongue from base to tip you wrap your lips all the way around as you get to the end, wasting no time in starting a rhythm with the occasional graze of your teeth that you knew drove him crazy. Small gags had your throat tightening around him, but his grunts weren’t the only ones filling your ears. Rougher ones that you knew belong to the other body filling this kitchen rung out, and just out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Jack pumping his cock to the rhythm you had on Robby. 

But as you try and watch Jack, your ministrations on Robby slowed down. So with the hand still tangled into your hair he tightened his grip and shoved you deeper until he felt your throat lock up in a gag. His eyes met yours that were filling slightly with unshed tears, you knew what he was silently asking. So with a slight nod in response to his unsaid question you tilted your head just slightly, remembering to breathe through your nose as Robby pushed his cock further down. Reaching deep enough that there was a slight bulge to your throat from the outer view, he didn’t stop until your nose was nuzzling those unruly curls at the base. Taking a deep inhale through your nose you could smell the faint body wash that he had used just half an hour ago. 

The sight had both Jack and Robby releasing moans, Jack having to squeeze his cock tight so that he didn’t cum prematurely. He pulled you back by your hair a few inches before pushing you back down to the base once more, this time you gagged slightly as your body tried to breathe through your throat forgetting that it wasn’t supposed to. Robby immediately let you off where you sat back on your heels with a small cough at the release of air, with a string of spit still connecting you to him. 

“That a’girl” he held your cheeks in his hands once more before guiding you up, “Bedroom, now I want you naked before we get there” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, running straight to the bedroom already stripping your shirt off before you left the living room, your shorts flung onto the coffee table. Both men watched as they tucked themselves into their boxers before making their own way to the shared room.

“You aren't gonna take it easy on her are you?” Jack laughed as he came up beside Robby.

“Her or you” He lightly smacked the side of Jack's ass, “Don’t think I forgot that comment in the car” 

Walking into the bedroom they’re met with you bare naked on bed grinding your hips in the air trying so hard to keep your hands off your soaked cunt. Slowly they both stripped their own clothes off walking closer to the bed they both take their time in ogling your body adoring the way you’re so comfortable with them.

“Look at that, being so good for your old men huh? So young and desperate to listen to your superiors” he parts the soft hair and your glistening folds to get a better look, “all that for us, what do you think Jack, does she deserve a little reward for taking my cock so well earlier?”

“I think so, I mean she wasn’t even touching herself when we walked in.”

“Good point. Alrighty Jack go ahead and get a taste.” he gestured towards the bed, “ but I want you on your back, and kid I want you sitting right on his face. Think you can do that f’me?” 

The both of you nodded. With Jack now lying on his back you maneuvered your knees beside his head, hovering for only a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down. His tongue wastes no time in moving up and down your cunt, burying his face as deep as it could go. Jack was a man on a mission, but the mission was intercepted with a strangled cry pushing  through his chest as he felt a large hand grab his cock.

“Shhh keep going Jack, don’t worry about us” Robby looked at you, “how’s your throat kid think you can go for another?”

“Yes, oh god please!” You weren’t fully sure if you were begging for a cock in your mouth or for Jack to continue. Either way you had gotten what you wanted, with a nod from Robby your lips descended on Jack. 

Jack was prepared for the feeling of your mouth but he wasn’t prepared for Robby to start stroking him in time with your movements. As your mouth went up so did his hand, and it followed the same path down. He was absolutely lost to pleasure, and it seemed like you were as well. Your hips began grinding down on his face chasing the growing tension in your lower belly. Soon he jumped once more in surprise as a second warm mouth descended on his aching cock. 

The three of you had a mirror in the corner of the room, one he could see clearly over your thigh. He was met with the sight of Robby and you connecting your lips as best you could with his angry red leaking tip between the two of your mouths. He could feel the twists and tangles of your tongues caressing both his length and each other. 

And god help him, he whimpered. Not a deep gravelly groan that he would usually let out, no it was an honest to god’s whimper. One that strung into a long vibrating moan against your clit as he felt the two of you move up and down at varying speeds and a hand began massaging his drool slick balls. 

While Jack was struggling to keep his composure you were locked into your movements. Both of your hips over his mouth and your own on his cock, the feeling of walls fluttering around nothing signaled your oncoming orgasm. With Jack's vocals vibrating against your sensitive nerves and the way you and Robby were sharing his cock had you more aroused than you thought was possible. 

Watching the moment Robby went down past Jack's base and straight to the soft spot of his perineum, you had come on the spot. Without even pulling off Jack the most pornographic moan escaped your throat as you felt a small gush of liquid cover your thighs and consequently his face. Mouth snug in place on his length as your body locked up with wave after wave of pleasure as your orgasm flew through you. 

Robby however kept going right up until Jack was begging for mercy. 

“Please Mikey, fuck! I don’t wanna cum yet wanna be inside her please!” Eyes screwed shut as his grip tightened on your thighs, you could feel where the blooming bruises would show come morning time. 

“Alrighty, if you say so,” Robby saw where you had all but flopped on top of Jack and he wasn’t having any of that, “Ah, ah, ah gotta flip you around honey need you to ride him okay?”

“I’m s’tired” half coherent babbles left you after you were pretty sure you just had the strongest orgasm of your life. 

“Come on now kid, I thought I was the one who was supposed to get tired first? Can’t quit on me now” Robby lands a smack to your ass, “I want you and Jack scooted up and you flipped.”

The graceless turn around had you questioning whether you were going to survive the night if he kept up with the age jokes, and your legs were already feeling like jelly as you moved. Which was crazy since you had barely been touched yet. The quiet click of Robby taking off Jack's prosthetic rang though the room as did the sigh of relief from the man as he leaned part of his back against the head board. 

“Go ahead and hop on, kid.”

Angling your hips as Robby took hold of Jack and aligned him up with your sensitive cunt, sinking down the first few inches before pausing and continuing slowly. It didn’t matter how many times you had been with them, the stretch was immense each time even with prep it was still overwhelming. 

“Fuck sweetheart! Feels so good” Jack grabs your face before bringing you into a kiss, you threw your arms over his shoulders to catch your balance. You could taste the tangy flavor of yourself as well as the taste of him and Robby from your own tongue mixing into an intoxicating cocktail. Thighs tensing as you prepared to move but hands gripped your hips right above the growing red marks left from Jack. 

“Hold on not yet, we’re gonna try something new okay?”

With a nod in permission from you, the sound of the plastic top of the lube bottle clicked open. He coated himself and you in a healthy amount. You were confused how this was new, it wasn’t the first time you had taken them both at the same time. Hell your first time together that's how it went, and in an extremely similar position to how you were now. But the press of his blunt tip pushed against where your body already held Jack.

Oh that's new.

“Shit, ugh, Mikey!” Your body instinctively clenches at the intrusion.

“Shh, shh, shh you gotta relax for me, you’re squeezing Jack and we don’t want him to cum too early do we?”

“No we don’t, Jesus Christ!" Jack's voice was the one to answer, strained with effort as he tried to think of anything to get himself to stave off his orgasm. 

Robby took his time working his way in, and when the first inch of him slipped through the barrier your brain had short circuited. 

“AH FUCK!” The scream was all but punched out of you, “p-please, Mikey! I d-dont, s’much” 

A full sentence was not about to leave your mouth, nor was your brain about to create one. He was barely in and you felt stuffed to the brim. And Jack wasn’t doing much better than you, your walls were constantly spasming and fluttering around him at the new intrusion. 

“She’s fucking squeezing Mike, so goddamn tight right now sweetheart. You gotta relax for us” Jack’s still tight voice rumbled in your ear.

“C’mon baby, breathe” Robby’s thumb began massaging the stretched skin that was pulled taught around both him and Jack, “you can do it, you can take it for your old man” 

And while that sentence never failed to have you wetter than a water park you were a little doubtful of your abilities at the moment.

“I-I don’t t-th..” you really tried to speak but words were hard at the moment. 

But Robby knew you could take it without a doubt, for a moment all that sounded was the heavy breaths from the three of you all tangled together. Until he decided you were ready and started thrusting lightly into you working more and more of his length right up besides Jack’s. 

“That’a girl. See you can do it just gotta stretch you out” it was barely above a whisper or at least that’s what it seemed like to your hazy brain.

Each thrust had your body accommodating more of him, Jack gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on your waist at the feeling of you stuffed full along with Robby's cock rubbing against his inside of you. It wasn’t long before it seemed that whatever patience Robby had displayed earlier with easing the first part of himself in had disappeared, bracing his hands at the junction of where your thighs meet your hips. 

He pulled you back.

Finally bottoming out Robby let out a satisfied noise, Jack seemingly sighed in relief, and you saw stars. Never in your life have you felt so stuffed before, both of them together in your cunt had you drooling.

“Doing so good for us kid” Robby whispered in your ear as he leaned forwards over your back, his soft tummy resting in the curve of your back and pushing your cheek into Jack's chest.

“Fuck Mike, we may have broken her” a harsh chuckle came from Jack, looking down he saw your eyes had sheened over with tears and your lips seemed to be mouthing words with very little sound.

“S’go-od, s’full, move p-please” gasping your words over and over as your chest heaved with effort.

“Well you heard her, we don’t want to disappoint her do we?” Robby stretched just a bit further to reach Jack over your shoulder, and Jack braced his good leg against the mattress to connect their lips. A messy meeting of tongue and teeth before they manually turned your head to join in, you were on auto pilot opening your own and tangling your tongue with theirs.

And without warning they both pulled out and pushed back in. The sharp juxtaposition of being filled completely and then feeling so empty just for them to bully their way back in was intense. The pace was deep and languid as they allowed your body to get used to the stretch, each time they bottomed out a sob of overwhelming pleasure left your lips. 

“Look at you sobbing over two old man cocks. How about we make sure everyone knows you’re ours? Get you all nice and round with us” Robby's tone was low and pleased at the sight of you being fucked stupid between the two of them. His words drew a deep grunt from the man below.

“Yeah how ‘bout it sweetheart? You gonna let your old men knock you up and mark you for all the young men to know you’re taken?” It was Jack this time, maybe it was the age focus that was put on the three of you today but it had them feral, “Like Mike said we aren't getting any younger sweetheart”

“Y-es, wa-ant you t’fill m-me up!” A new alternating push and pull rhythm had your words coming out choppy as you all but wailed in pleasure. The poor neighbors.

A low fuck left Robby and Jacks throat at the prospect of you full and round with their children, and that had them doubling his efforts. The ridges of their cocks caught on one other as they rubbed together. A crude squelching noise came from where the three of you were connected followed by the sound of their heavy balls hitting both you and each other over, and over again. Your toes curled as the pressure built in your lower stomach, walls fluttering over what little space they had left. 

“Look at you desperate for two old men to claim you and get you so full with us that everyone knows who you belong to” Robby sucked a mark into your shoulder as he pounded into you with fervor.

“Gonna have everyone looking at us twice when we tell them we’re the ones that got you pregnant” Jack matched Robby's speed, “wondering how we coerced such a young pretty thing into our bed”

Their words had you reeling, the idea of showing up to work and everyone knowing just who did that to you had you careening to another orgasm without even touching your slit. Your abused cunt gushed once more as your over stretched walls tried to clamp down. Tears slid down your cheeks as the two didn’t stop their movements, fucking you right through the pulses drawing it out. 

“oh fuck god yes-!” you wails carried through the house. 

“That's it momma, gonna fill you up so good” And god if that new nickname didn’t have you melting, it was the only word that bounced around your brain, no thoughts just pleasure and that goddamn word. 

Your body had gone limp moving up and down with their motion but having no strength to hold yourself up. 

“Fuck just like that” Robby was nearing the edge as the constant flutters, the friction of Jack right beside him, and the thought of you pregnant had him losing his restraint.

“Mike m’gonna cum, shit!” It was a few more thrusts before the both of them came with raspy growls.

Shoving their cocks as far as they could go, you swore that they had somehow stretched themselves into your womb. Feeling them both in your stomach as heat pooled deep into you as they came, a feeling that had your body orgasming once more as your cunt milked them for all that they had.  

Both waited until they began to soften before slowly pulling out, Robby leaned back watching Jack's cock slip out after his. Pulling your cheeks apart to get a good look at you stretched open and pulsing around nothing. As their mixed cum started leaking out you felt him swipe two fingers to collect it and shoved it back inside. 

“Hold it in for me kid, just a little squeeze you can do it” 

Eyes drooping you nodded and did your best to tighten your pelvic floor as much as you could. With gentle hands they flipped you onto your back beside Jack hooking your knees over his legs so that they were angled up. Your limbs felt like wet noodles as you let them manhandle you into whatever position they wanted. As your breathing began slowing down you felt Jack's hand stoking your hair leading you to begin drifting off. Although the feeling of a warm cloth jerked you from the edge of sleep, Robby took the time to clean up the three of you seeing as Jack still had his prosthetic off and his crutches were left in the bathroom. The bed dipped as he laid down beside you, his own hand coming to rub the expanse of your lower belly. 

“You okay kid?” 

“Mmhmmm” your soft confirmation barely reached his ears.

“So kids huh?” Jack was the first to speak.

“Yeah I don’t know where that came from,” Robby’s cheeks glowed with his telltale red blush, “Guess being called old makes you think about things” A soft calm fell over the room as you all ruminated through your own thoughts on the subject.

“I know we wouldn’t be the most conventional family, but I would like to be one” coherency was quick to return to you with the direction the conversation was led into, “With both of you”

“You know what I’m sure loads of men don’t really have body hair,” Samira was doing her best to console the poor boy, “I bet even some people we work with are in the same boat!”

You fixed your face into a you’re joking expression directly aimed at her. 

“Okay then who? Because I couldn’t name one who I think is smoother than poor Dennis over here” Trinity motions to the entirety of the ED before getting a look in her eye. “Hold on, what if we I don't know take some bets about this.”

“No, Trinity, that's such an HR violation” Mel immediately voices her concerns 

“Only if you tell them, okay let’s narrow it down to the attendings keep it small” she sneaks a look at you specifically, “Abbot and Robby; bush, trimmed, or fully shaved? Bonus points for chest hair”

A beat of silence followed after her statement, as everyone took their time in processing what exactly they were getting themselves into. And if they were willing to participate.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate”

“They’re our bosses-”

“IT’S A CONDITION!” 

All three began arguing over the ethics of Trinity's proposed bet, you however lifted a finger to your chin before interrupting everyone.

“Abbot is for sure trimmed with a little chest hair, and Robby is definitely a full jungle head to toe no doubt about it”

A shrug was added towards the end as if this was light work, and that's because it was. You weren’t going to lie and say you hadn’t thought about this before, many, many times. You were an R4 and had been working at the PTMC since your MS4. There was no doubt that you held a candle to both of your much older attendings, hell you’ve been called out multiple times on the doe eyes you’ve made when you thought no one was looking. 

Dana had especially caught on, and never ceased to remind you that they were double your age and that a sweet girl like you didn’t need to be tied down by old men like them. If only she knew how much it turned you on to hear just how much older they were. And it was worse when the reminders came from Robby and Abbot themselves.

‘Good God I was in med school by the time you were born sweetheart’

‘I have tattoos that are older than you kid’

Both statements were seared into your brain the moment they said it. Lines that replayed one too many times with a hand furiously circling your clit while splayed out on your bed fantasizing about your bosses. So yeah your bet was one made with the confidence of four years of pining after these men.

“Nah Abbot's smooth and Robby is trimmed” Trinity wasted no time in following behind with hers.

“Fine, uhm both of them are trimmed short, but Robby has the chest hair” Samira's vote was cast in a mumble as she avoided eye contact.

“I’m going to say both are clean shaven” you had a feeling Dennis was just trying to make himself feel better.

“Nope, no thanks I’ll handle the money” Mel shook her head having absolutely no interest whatsoever in participating.

“Okay, problem though. How exactly are we going to find out?” Trinity once again laid her gaze on you, which to be fair so did everyone else. Point taken.

“Alright sure I volunteer as tribute, but if I do this it’s up to 20$ per correct guess. Bush and chest hair are separate so we’re talking 40 bucks per attending” 

You weren’t about to become a walking HR violation if there wasn’t a chance of getting 240$ richer. A girl has bills to pay.

As all agreed on the bet, handing your money over to Mel you realized you needed a game plan.

______________________________________

It all began the next day when Abbot had picked up a double. He and Robby were chatting and discussing patient care when you and Trinity saddled up to the station to chart on your own patients. Seeing no time like the present you decided to seize the moment and turned to Trinity.

“Do you have a good waxer?”

Trinity's eyes bugged out for just one moment before she recognized the plan.

“No, sorry babe I just take care of it myself at home” 

“I used to have a good one but she moved to LA, and I haven’t touched it since” Not a lie, “I don’t trust myself not to cut off a lip so I figured I’d just leave it until I find a new one.”

Out of the corner of your eye you caught the way both men had frozen in their spots, eyes wide and a blush creeping up Robby’s neck. 

“Say Dr. Robby, Dr. Abbot do you guys know a good place to get waxed?”

That sweet blush melted onto poor Robby’s cheeks at your inquiry. He then looked over to Jack as if making sure he wasn’t going crazy. 

“I, uh can’t say that I do kid” Hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“You really think we look like the kind of people who would know someone for that sweetheart?” Jack settled his gaze into nonchalance a lot easier than Robby did.

“Well I don’t know I didn’t want to assume, you know” you shrug before grabbing Trinity’s wrist and walking away, “okay well that eliminates waxing but doesn't eliminate if they shave or trim.”

The next opportunity you had was a week or so later when you saw Robby standing alone in the supply closet.

“Do they have any witch hazel or aloe in here?” An innocent and slightly stupid question that no one would blink twice at.

“I’m not entirely sure why, what’s up kid?” Robby turned to look at you as if you were presenting a case. 

“Well the patient in central 6 came in with what they thought was an STD, burning and itching and all that. Turns out it’s a simple rash from shaving” You search his face for any sense of acknowledgement, or the vibes of understanding. But instead you get nothing but the look of okay and?

“Well if we don’t have it, discharge them with instructions and some powder for the irritation” Robby tried his best not to blush once more at the full attention you were giving him, efforts that ended up failing at your next statement.

“Well what do you do Dr. Robby? You know if you shave too short and it gets really itchy and bothersome?”

“I don’t, uhm-“

Robby was saved by the bell as Dana came in and called a trauma. Something you huffed about knowing you weren’t going to get an answer. The breath you let out caught his attention unbeknownst to you, as a quizzical expression fell onto his face as he realized this was the second conversation like this he’s had with you in as many weeks.

______________________________________

Jack’s turn for questioning came the next day at shift change as you ran into him at the lockers. You were putting your things into the space and he was taking his out.  

“Oh hey Dr.Abbot, I have a quick question for you”

“Your questions are never quick nor are they usually good for my health” 

“No I promise this is totally five by five”

“I don’t think you used that-”

“Anyway, so what type of fabric is your underwear?”

A long sigh left his nostrils as he closed his eyes letting his head dip down. Turning his body to face you fully he leaned a shoulder against the lockers as he folded his arms across his chest. 

“I want to ask why you want to know that sweetheart, but I think I’m also scared of knowing the reason”

“Well, since you kind of asked I’ll tell you,” stepping a bit closer to him so you could demonstrate your question while you tell it, “I haven’t bought new ones in a while and I noticed that if I shaved, it would poke through the polyester fabric which was super uncomfortable. So I was just wondering if you had that problem?” 

If only you had a camera because the look on Jack Abbots face was priceless but only for a split second. His attempt at remaining stoic quickly dropped as his shoulder slid off the lockers for a moment, losing his cool before he straightened up schooling his expression and narrowing his eyes at you.

“Cotton.” 

The flatness of his tone sent shivers down your spine as he locked his gaze onto yours not letting you escape, It was your turn to slightly lose your cool. Jack figuring the best plan is to meet you at your own game, one that you were so clearly playing. 

Before this your flirtations were kept small and sweet. Ones that he and Robby were more than happy to play into, but they never entertained you much further knowing that you were much too young for them. They also refused to let themselves believe that you were genuinely into them. You who were sunshine personified with the confidence to boot during procedures. The one who they watched as every med student and consultant flirted with you in an attempt to get into your pants only to come out unsuccessful each and every time.

These thoughts and memories were swimming through his head as you left him with a small ‘oh ok, thanks’ and headed out onto the floor but not before he saw you quickly pull out your phone and began furiously typing. Grabbing his backpack he heads out as well, stopping when he sees Robby at the nurses station and figures he'd ask if he noticed anything odd about you lately.

“Hey brother I got a question for you, have you noticed anything odd with-”

“Oh thank god you too?”

Jack didn’t even finish his sentence before Robby was adding in his own thoughts. Both the men recounted their encounters with you noticing a similar topic to your questioning and interest with them recently. But it wasn’t truly making sense to why you were so hung up on this until they overheard a passing conversation that they definitely weren’t supposed to hear. 

“Damn it, she said still nothing definitive” came the voice of Trinity Santos the day shift R2 came close to where the two attendings were standing but not close enough that she and Dennis Whitaker saw them standing there.

“I still think betting on their body hair is weird”

“Okay well technically it's not their body hair it's just how they keep their bushes okay with a side bet of chest hair, totally appropriate,” She scoffed as she typed a quick reply on her phone, “plus are you not 80$ deep like the rest of us?”

“Well yeah but having her do it feels cruel when she’s told us about how much she likes Abbot and Robby,”

“Chill with the emotions huckleberry, and please they like her just as much. Which is why she has the best chance”

They walk away soon after leaving both attendings to stew over their words. Over two things specifically; one being the fact that a small group of their doctors have been betting over their pubic hair, but second and more importantly that you actually liked them. Their eyes met and it was almost as if they had the same thought process, which they did. Now they only had one problem though, they needed to figure out how to confront you about it. 

Because here you were flaunting around the ED flirting with them and asking questions that should’ve definitely sent you straight to HR. Except Trinity and Dennis were correct, it didn’t because it was you who asked. Taking a quick peek at the schedule they saw that the next shift was your last before you had four days off, they were also short a couple doctors and coincidently neither were supposed to be working. And since Jack and Robby were both such givers they signed themselves up to pick up the shift.

________________________________________

The day started out like any other. You showed up ready to work with an extra pep in your step as it was hot attending free, feeling like you could finally breathe. You loved flirting with them truly, but with this bet going on it was getting harder and harder to get through your shift. Not because you were getting sick of them, no never that. It’s the amount of forced proximity that was really messing with your head.

You were starting to feel as though the faint scent of their body wash and cologne was beginning to embed itself inside your sinuses. Or how the sound of their voices were etched so deep into your brain it replayed constantly as you wore out the batteries of your favorite vibrator almost nightly. But today was going to be different, today was a hot older man free day. At least it was supposed to be, but that quickly dissipated as a few voices you thought weren't going to be around came from behind you.

“Look at her walking in here with a little pep in her step, what do you think got into her?”

 “No idea, maybe it's just her youthful state. I mean you remember what it was like to be her age don't you?” 

Michael fucking Robinavitch and Jack asshole Abbot had swarmed you as soon as you walked towards the entrance. Only causing a slight stumble before catching your balance and regaining a shred of your already paper thin confidence. 

“Well I thought it was going to be a peaceful day, but I guess the powers that be said no.” you attempted a joking insult so that it seemed like nothing about this was getting to you.

But deep and gravelly laughs followed your statement, the kind that had your thighs tightening and heat creeping up your neck. A focus that you were ripped out of at the feeling of a hand on your lower back, which made you halt in your steps. Looking over you spotted Abbot positioning himself against your side before a long arm from the other man in your presence shot out and opened the door allowing you to walk in first. 

It was odd, not in an uncomfortable way but mostly because you hadn’t often taken them on at the same time so to speak. Usually choosing to focus on one or the other unless you had back up like Trinity. But here with both of them crowding your space made you feel out of control and dizzy. 

Squeaking out a thank you before rushing through the doors trying to get some type of distance, you were stopped short when it came to the security door where they wasted no time in crowding into your space again. Their scents filling your nose as the hairs at the back of your neck stood on edge.

You tried to start this shift with an attempt at the normal teasing and flirtations with the usual confidence you normally had, but as time went on you found yourself becoming increasingly overwhelmed with their constant presence. Mostly because there was something different about them today, they were less playful and dismissive with your advances. Instead it was more intentional, they doubled down on their own flirtations back and almost tag teaming you from each side. Rarely was there a time that one of them wasn’t around you, whenever you picked up a patient they were right there behind you asking for an immediate presentation, or about differentials and possible diagnoses. 

They were also more physical as well, a hand at the lower part of your back or on your shoulder when passing by, or even if they were standing near you talking to others. And they were always standing much too close to you when looking at the charts and labs, you couldn’t seem to scramble together more than two words every time they asked you a question because of how overbearing their presence was today. It got to the point where Samira had asked if you were okay since you had seemed so distracted, you did your best to reassure her you were okay but that didn’t seem to ease much of her worry. And unfortunately for you she decided to talk to the worst two people possible about your behavior.

“Im just concerned you know she seems distracted”

“No worries Mohan we’ll check up on her” Abbot tried his own reassurance hoping that he convinced her better than you did.

“I appreciate you bringing this to us. We will do our best to see what's going on” 

Robby figured that adding a second statement would distract her from lingering on one or the other for too long. And it seemed to work as she nodded her thanks before walking off. It wasn’t until the last three hours of the shift they decided to finally run their intervention. 

“Hey kid do me a favor and walk with me” Robby approaches you from behind as you try and think of every possible way to get out of it. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I can’t. Patient in south 5 needs me” you take one step away before a large hand wraps around your bicep as he begins talking above your head.

“Hey Mel do me a favor take her patients for a bit” She nods her agreement before walking off to finish whatever task she was in the middle of, “See no biggie, c’mon”

He guided you into the hallway quite a distance away from the ED, right up until you saw ON CALL ROOM 3 plastered beside a door. Knocking three times seemed to be the password as the door opened to show Jack Abbot, the only other man you absolutely didn’t trust yourself  to be around today. 

Before you could protest and make an argument for being too busy to talk once more, a small tap on your left ass cheek had you taking shocked stumbling steps into the room. The door was closed and a lock clicked as you stood as far back as you could from the two men. You weren’t scared of them per say, but you were scared that they were about to tell you they were reporting you for inappropriate questioning over the last few weeks.

“I uhm-” 

“Ah ah ah, sweetheart this isn’t your turn to talk” Jack spoke first, moving so that he was directly beside Robby where he stood but two feet in front of you, which also meant they were effectively blocking your way at a quick exit.

“Look kid you aren’t getting out of this, better to come clean now” Robby crossed his arms over his chest the movement somehow making him seem even broader.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you're talking about” You were on the verge of tears, mind running rampant with the thoughts of losing your residency and possibly your career.

“Aww look at the poor thing Mike, I think we’ve scared her”

“Nah Jack I think she's right where she wants to be,” 

“Dr. Abbot, Dr. Robby I’m sorr-”

“Shhh, no doctor. Just Michael and Jack right now”

Jack is the first to take yet another step closer to you with Robby following suit. But as you attempt to find any semblance of distance you feel your knees hit the edge of the chair that had been sitting in the corner of the room. The motion caused you to fall to the seat, eyes drifting to the front of their pants that lined up with your new view. Both seams were pulled tight in an intimidating tent from each man. 

“I don’t understand wh-whats going on?”

“Dont play coy now,” Jack grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “secrets and bets aren’t kept quiet for long in this hospital,”

He traced your bottom lip with the same thumb, pulling it down slightly. Robby groaned at the sight before he reached a hand similar to Jack, but instead of going for your face he gripped a handful of your ponytail and slightly yanked back so your throat stretched upwards. 

“Well, you wanted to see so badly, so look”  giving another tug to your hair.

With shaky hands you start with Robby's zipper pulling it down slowly before moving onto his boxers. His heavy length bobbed out, skin taught and flushed as his tip was already leaking, and he was long at least 8 inches. And right at the base was even better than you could’ve predicted, a full smattering of unruly dark curls that trailed down from the happy trail peaking out from his rising scrub top. But before you could get too carried away that warm hand on your chin gave it a small tap reminding you there were two, as if you could forget. 

You were a bit more impatient with Jack’s pants already feeling the pulse of your own arousal beginning at the most menial of touches from them. Pulling his pants and boxers down his cock was just as impressive in its own way. While it wasn’t as long as Robby's it was definitely girthier, almost scarily so. Skin just as flushed and leaking with a prominent vein along the underside and of course to none of your surprise he was neatly trimmed, nothing too short but just enough to shape it into manageable. 

Without allowing yourself to get too lost in thought reaching up with both hands you gripped each of their respective cocks and began stroking up and down their lengths spreading their arousal with your fingers. Sharp hisses left their lips at the contact.

“Aww come on now kid you didn’t harass us for weeks just to use your hands did you?” Robby chastises with a strained voice. 

“Yeah come on sweetheart put that dirty mouth to better use than you have been” This time its Jack that puts a hand in your hair pushing you towards where they wanted you most. At first you went to focus on just one at a time before you heard Jack’s tsk start to correct you.

“You’ve talked such a big game so you can take both”

“Wh-what Jack, I don't think I can.” Your eyes widened at the prospect of two of the biggest cocks you’d seen. 

“You can do it kid, open up and say ahh” Robby’s lips morphed into a smirk.

And you did opening as wide as you could, realistically you could only really fit the first inch of each of them at the same time while pumping the rest of their length with your hands. However, you settled into a rhythm of running your mouth up and down Robby’s then Jack’s cock and finally taking both as far as you could at one time. It only took a few minutes before your eyes were spilling with tears and spit dripped from your lips. 

“That’a girl, fuck feels so good! Doesn’t she feel good Mike?”

“God yes, so fucking warm. But I wanna taste her Jack.” Robby lets out a deep moan as you deliver a particularly harsh suck to his cockhead.

“Yes please, I want that” pulling back with a slight pop as their cocks fall from your mouth, the idea of their mouths on you sent goosebumps flowing down your spine. 

“Alrighty kid strip before getting on the bed, then put your hips at the edge” Robby ordered with a strong tone. 

Hurriedly removing your scrubs, you position yourself as directed. Before noticing how both men chose to keep their clothes on, leaving their pants just tucked below their hips. A realization that had you instinctively trying to cover yourself.

As your arms went to cover your breasts, larger ones gripped your wrists and moved to hold them above your head. Looking to your side you were met with Jack's hazel eyes as he held yours with a hard gaze.

“Don’t you dare cover yourself, I’ve waited years for this,” Jack's lips came crashing onto yours, messily filled with teeth and tongue before moving down the column of your throat, “I’ve had to guess what these perfect tits looked like with my hand wrapped around my cock way too often. And they’re even better than anything I could’ve imagined”

Your eyes were screwed shut as your teeth sunk into your lip trying hard to keep your noises down. But a startled gasp broke through as Robby’s hands caressed your thighs, where once again you tried to cover yourself by squeezing them shut. But he was quicker moving his shoulders between so there was no chance of hiding.

“Who’d have thought you’d be so shy kid? You’re all talk and no bite aren’t you?” Robby teased as he gently ran a finger through your own soft curls pressing farther into your slit, collecting the leaking arousal, “but you’ve never had a real man take care of you have you? Let alone two”

“N-no, never” your voice was a breathy whisper in your attempt to respond.

All chances of being silent went out the window as Jack wrapped his lips around a nipple while Robby buried his face deep into your cunt. 

“Oh fuck Michael!” That had Jack shoving two fingers in your mouth to keep the noise at bay.

“Fucking hell kid,” his deep growl vibrated against your sensitive flesh, “as much as I love hearing you call my name, gonna need you to be quiet for us, can you be a good girl and do that?” 

Lips still wrapped around Jack's fingers you managed a nod. With one mouth expertly buried at your sensitive core shoving his nose into you and inhaling deep and the other sucking on your breasts you could feel that dull pulse pull tighter on that string.

That feeling only built as Jack pulled away from your chest removing the fingers from your mouth and moving down to where Robby was.

Those spit slick fingers moved around the back of your thigh and pressed in right below Robby’s chin. The instant stretch had you biting on your knuckles and he scissors his fingers in a smooth rhythmic manner. 

“Bet Mike's mouth feels real good doesn’t it, sweetheart?” His question wasn’t one he needed answered with words as your face and moans said it all, but lord did you try. Nothing but babbles came out as he flipped between harsh sucks and using his tongue to inscribe his name over your clit. 

“Yeah he does,” Jack continued, “I can feel you squeezing my fingers real good. I’ll tell you what, be a good girl and let go for us just once before we fuck you” 

“Yes, ohmygod pl-please!” 

With toes curled and back arched the string snapped as Robby nipped at your clit and Jack hooked his fingers to press into that soft spot that had you gushing and your vision going white. Pleasure shot through your body as your orgasm contracted every lower muscle you had. Squeezing Jack fingers so hard he almost came at the thought of it being on his cock next.

Your mind was floating as you barely registered how Jack spread your arousal down to your puckered hole. Nor did you fully realize you were being manhandled until the world spun around you and you found yourself face to face with Jack's black t-shirt covered chest. 

“Okay sweetheart gonna take this nice and slow, big breath for me” The man beneath you whispered into your ear.

Confusion muddled your brain as it was still slow to recover from the mind numbing orgasm, but it all made sense as you felt his cock being pushed into your cunt. Slow and steady as he gave you little moments to adjust. All the while Robby had opened the lube that he came prepared with as he slathered his length in it with a few jerks watching as Jack's cock disappeared into your sweet cunt. The stretch was almost too much compared to his fingers earlier. 

As he finally bottomed out he held your hips down onto him only allowing small grinding movements of your pelvis against his. You were desperate for more and your poor mind was lost three ways to Sunday as his thick cock filled you up more than you had ever been. Little whines were released as you attempted to move but the grip Jack had was tight and immovable. However, both your movements and noises died down as Robby’s hand settled between your shoulder blades pushing you further into Jack as he also maneuvered your hips down and back so that he could reach his destination. You felt cold liquid spread between your cheeks before you heard his voice call out.

“Be real still f’me” that baritone of Robby’s voice was like an electric shock to your nerves. And the small praises that came from Jack in your ear were enough to make you cum again.

“Fuck, so fucking tight baby hold on” strain crept its way into Robby’s words as he slowly pushed in trying to be gentle as he passed through the tight rings of muscle. 

“Doing so good sweetheart, taking us both so well” small kisses and marks were littered between sentences Jack was whispering. “Oh Fuck Mike, can feel your cock pressing against her”

“Ugghh s’big,” wiggling your hips to stuff more of both inside, eyes all but rolling to the back of your head “feels s’good”

Another minute went by before Robby was able to get himself fully seated inside your ass, and Jack in the same position with your sensitive cunt. While they took their time stuffing you full beyond belief it only took seconds for them to start moving, and in perfect time as well. When Robby stayed put Jack pulled out, and when Jack pushed back in Robby pulled out. Both coming out just until the tip was left before thrusting back in with such force that had the air pushed from your lungs. 

If they were worried about you being loud before that was not the problem any more. The constant push and pull of the two men had your mouth hanging open in a silent O. The feel of their bruising grips on your waist and hips only added to the blinding arousal that filled your body.

“Such a good girl sweetheart, letting us fuck you dumb in the middle of your shift” Jacks degrading words only had you whimpering in agreement.

“No words for us kid, was this more than you thought you could handle?” Robby spreads your ass so that he can see himself slide in and out better, a view that had him groaning as he felt his own orgasm building. 

And almost as if their minds and bodies were melded into one, as Robby thought it Jack voiced it.

“Fuck don’t know how much longer I can last brother. Plus i think our break is coming to an end”

“I-I’m s-so” That competent mind that they loved so much had turned off, a sight they knew they shouldn’t love as much as they do but they couldn’t help it. 

The look of pure bliss on your face combined with tears flowing down your cheeks and their marks across your body was something they were going to make sure happened on a regular basis. This was their way into your life and they weren't about to let it happen just once. That tell tale fluttering of your cunt and tightening of your ass on the two men told them you were just as close as they were. 

And they were correct, the immense pressure of both of them rubbing against each other inside and the friction of movement on your clit had you barreling into your second orgasm. They quickened their pace chasing their own highs, rhythm being slightly lost as they stopped trying to time it. This had you losing yourself even more as you stopped being able to tell where one ended and the other began. And whatever lucidity you had faded as your orgasm all but paralyzed you.

“Fuckfuckfuckkk!” You gritted out through clenched teeth, body locking up as you gripped Jack's hair with one hand and the other gripping Robby's wrist on your hip. 

“C’mon sweetheart take it!” Jack grunted out himself as both he and Robby shoved themselves as deep as they could, reaching parts of your body you didn’t even know existed.

“Take it all kid just like that” Robby’s grip becoming impossibly harder 

Grunts and moans flew from the two men as they emptied themselves into your body, warmth bloomed from their cum filling up you to what felt like your chest. Shallow movement from both had you squeaking out with overstimulation at each thrust. You could feel them soften slightly before they pull out. Grabbing the wipes from the bedside table and lightly cleaning you up.

Your body was still limp as they slid your underwear and scrubs back on,and your body moved into a sitting position. Light taps to your cheek had your eyes drooping open just slightly. Feeling the water bottle set against your bottom lip your mouth opened instinctively as a hand gripped your chin in place. 

“Look at that, don’t even need to ask her before she does what we want now” Jack stroked your hair so that it looked more presentable.

“Gonna need you to walk out of her kid, think you can do that” Robby moved the bottle from your mouth and moved your chin with his hand to look him in his eyes.

You begin to nod before he cuts off your movements. 

“Nope gotta use your words like a big girl”

“Y-yes Michael” breaths coming out deep and heavy.

“Alrighty lets get you up,” Jack's hands lifted you from your position under your arms to stand on your own two feet. “Woah there bambi take a minute”

His words rushed out as your knees instantly buckled and both him and Robby moved to catch you. 

“I can do it,” taking a deep breath, you all but stumbled to the door. But before you could open it you heard Robby call out.

“Just so you know we’re taking you home with us tonight and we’re gonna talk this thing through, got it?” 

“This wasn’t just a one time thing sweetheart, this was four years in the making. We know you take the bus so you’ll hitch a ride with us.” Jack then nodded for you to leave first. 

"Oh one more thing," you called out before leaving, "the second part of the bet?"

A chuckle left both the men as they each lifted their shirts up to their necks confirming exactly what you knew. But the new peek at their bodies had your own gearing up for another round already, so with a small giggle and thanks you tucked your head down and exited the room.

With every wobbly step you could feel their cum slightly leak out and pool into your underwear, and you were extremely grateful the shift was almost over. Making your way to where most everyone was gathered at the nurses station, they all watched as you headed towards them with a noticeable limp in your gait and an absentminded smile across your face. 

“Time to pay up, I was correct” leaning your exhausted body on the counter top.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Trinity knew what it meant but part of her didn’t believe you while Samira, Mel, and Dennis made questioning glances between you two.

At least that was until they saw both of their attendings talking in hushed whispers coming from the exact hallway you had. Jack or Robby didn't bother to fix their hair as they had  done yours. And much to your embarrassment you could faintly see a you-sized handprint on Robby's forearm where his  sleeves were pushed up, and Jack's neck had a you-sized bite mark where you must’ve chomped down without thinking. Heat flushed through your body as they walked past where you and the group huddled, nodding to you in unison as you nearly sank to your knees once more. But a teeny bit of pride that filled your chest kept you upright with just enough left over confidence to turn back to the four that went from confused to shocked. 

And without another word Mel reached into her bag grabbing the envelope that held what was now your water and electricity bill payment. Shoving it into your pocket before moving away to very carefully sit on one of the stools to finish charting before you head out. 

“So do we get half?” Jacks question had you scoffing 

“Absolutely not this is my utilities bill” you shot him a look at the audacity of his words. But that look morphed into confusion when your phone chimed and a banking notification of 1,600$ being sent chimed on your phone. “Wait what the fuck?”

“You put in good work for that money, use it for something other than utilities,” Robby’s voice joined in, “Plus you’re not going to have to worry about bills anymore”

And before you could protest another notification of 1,600$ went through, this time with Jack's name. 

“Just a little something for rent” he casually stated, “meet us by the black Chevy after you clock out” 

Jack patted your shoulder before they both walked off, as if they just had been going over patient information with you and not sending you 3,200$ for ‘bills’. Which had you giggling because they both knew you lived in a shitty studio in the not great part of town, so they were very much aware of the fact they sent you at least triple your rent. Except instead of feeling embarrassment or shy, you felt cared for. And it had you excited for later tonight, wondering about all the plans they could have. 

Never did you think Dennis and his lack of body hair would’ve been the push the three of you needed to finally break the years of building tension. But here you were with that silly little thought in your head as you made your way towards the truck where both men were waiting for you. 

Running a sweaty hand down the back of your neck, you roll it to the side and shift on your feet, causing your sneakers to quietly squeak beneath you.

Returning to the task of gathering materials so they may be returned to their respective drawers in the exam room you stand in, Robby studies you from a few feet away. "You alright?"

Your eyes flit to his and you shrug. "Just feeling kind of hot." Pushing up the sleeves of your undershirt, you continue. "I think I need to take this off once we're done."

You straighten when he comes over to you.

Robby slides a calloused palm over your forehead and you remain quiet as he uses probably the worst method there is to take your temp.

Dropping it, you think to turn away to toss a paper gown into the trash, until he cups the back of your head and presses his lips to it next.

You lean in slightly to the unexpected gesture, but just as quickly, he pulls back. "You do feel a little warm."

You fiddle with the sleeve of the shirt you mean to rid yourself of. "I'll go change in the ladies room after."

"Or, you could change right here if you're feeling that overheated."

You release a breathy, nervous laugh. "Are you going to stand outside?"

He shrugs, and you watch as a corner of his lips twitch in amusement. "Not if you don't want me to."

Forget the heat, you may pass out just from this exchange alone.

"Kidding," he says quietly while leaning forward with crossed arms.

You turn away so he can't see the annoying grin which has spread across your face. "I'll just do it in the restroom."

Once your extra layer of clothing has been removed, neatly folded, and safely stored away in your employee locker, you head back to the nurses station to look at what new items have popped up on the menu board.

You smirk from thinking about it like that.

Brushing past McKay, her phone dings, followed by Frank's doing exactly the same, but a few feet away. You shrug it off until Mohan's does as well.

Picking up the pace, you speed-walk the remainder of the way to the front of the room before swiftly seating yourself next to Mel and rolling closer to her. Even she's staring down at her phone.

"Did something happen?" you ask quietly.

A fire? A building collapse? An active shooter? So many possibilities race through your mind that you're unable to get a handle on even one before another presents itself.

Turning to you, it's with flushed cheeks and eyes which struggle to reach your own. "It's a not a big deal," she begins with a reassuring tone. "But, uh, it looks like you may've synced your tracking app with the ED's calendar."

Your eyes bug from your skull. "W-What?"

Turning her phone around, she hands it to you.

There, mocking you from the glass screen you stare down at, is a small notification stating that your period of ovulation is due to begin today.

You discovered as much when in the restroom. While wiping yourself, there'd not being an ounce of friction when doing so, and the toilet paper came away shimmery and wet. You were relieved to discover the source of your tepidity wasn't an oncoming cold or a bout of the flu, at least.

Now, you wish either had been the case instead.

Handing her phone back to her, you nearly drop it your hand is trembling so terribly. "Does everyone know?" you whisper.

Glancing around, it seems almost the entire department has come to a standstill as they check their respective devices. Including Robby and Abbot.

Maybe if you crawl beneath a desk, or hide under a hospital bed, the shame will be easier to bear. But with so many eyes now turning in your direction, you stay rooted to the spot.

Mel tucks her phone back away. "I'm sure that in an hour—probably less—everyone will have forgotten about it. I wouldn't worry."

Suddenly skating up to the counter you sit behind, Santos leans over it with an elated grin.

You wince while looking at her from beneath your lashes.

"So, you're breedable and submissive right now, huh?"

You bury your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening to me," you mumble in mortification.

"I think she must've accidentally used her work email for the app," Mel explains.

"Oh, is that what you think?" Trin replies sarcastically between fits of bubbly laughter. Turning back to you, she grins. "Just send me another notification when you get home if the electric slide doesn't cut it for ya," she states with a wink before turning and walking away.

Mel looks at you. "What's the electric slide?" she whispers.

You squeeze your eyes shut. "A song. Which is about a vibrator."

"A vibr— Oooh," she says with sudden, dawning realization.

Finally returning to yourself, you slip your phone out of your pocket in a panic. Should've been the first thing you did once Mel told you what a spectacle you've inadvertently made of yourself. Fumbling and nearly dropping it just like hers, you punch in your pin code and swipe through your collection of apps before pressing on the culprit.

Barely able to concentrate, you scroll through this page and that one in frustration, desperate to fix whatever you screwed up by accident.

"I could take a look?" she offers.

Eagerly handing the device over to her, you watch as she easily locates the settings. "Notifications?" she mumbles, followed by a shake of her head. "Ah, here it is: backup and sync."

Once she's removed your work email from the app, she hands the stupid thing back to you.

"Thank you," you say with a sigh of relief—even though the damage has already been done.

She smiles and shrugs slightly. "No problem. Probably just something you did without thinking."

"You get that notification same as me?" Abbot asks while coming to stand beside the computer cart Robby is currently stationed at.

He nods while typing. "I did."

Jack pushes his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. "And what do we intend to do about it?"

"We?" Robby asks with a laugh and a raised brow before turning back to the monitor. "There's nothing to do. I'm sure she's humiliated enough as it is."

Jack crosses his arms while staring at him with pursed lips. "So, we are explicitly told that for the next few days the one woman in this department that neither you or I can keep our eyes—or hands, for that matter—off of is going to be at her most needy, and that doesn't turn you on in the least?"

Robby shoves his hand beneath his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to forget the fact you just said that to me," he mumbles before returning to his work.

Jack shakes his head while taking a step backward. "Your loss," he calls. "When you lose out because I'm the only one who chose to take initiative."

To his satisfaction, Jack manages later on to catch you alone in the Employee Lounge taking a generous sip of water. He watches as bubbles speed toward the bottom of the bottle—you're just that eager for it.

"Thirsty, huh?" he asks while leaning against the fridge with crossed arms.

Lowering it, you lick your damp lower lip. "Hm? Oh, yeah."

"I'm sure it was just a technical mishap, but can I ask why you're apparently signed up to be notified when you're in your fertile window?"

Good thing you finished your long drink of water, because if you were still swallowing, you'd have choked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Just as he makes to explain, Robby catches the two of you out of the corner of his eye and swings back around before heading into the lounge under the guise of grabbing a drink as well.

You step to the side as Robby walks past you for a plastic bottle of water same as your own.

"I wasn't aware you were seeing anyone," Jack states. "Being notified about your period I get. But ovulation?"

Heat creeps so high past your cheeks that you can feel the tips of your ears now burning.

You look at Robby from the corner of your eye, who's now stationed himself against the counter to your left. "It's so I know when to...carry extra underwear," you clarify quietly. "And pantiliners."

Robby's brows raise and he wraps one arm under the other that's holding a half-drunk bottle of mineral water. "That much, huh?"

You glance to him. "What?"

"You get that wet?" he asks. "Wet enough that you have to bring a change of panties to work with you?"

You feel like you're floating outside of your body right now.

He's a doctor, so surely he's just trying to make sure that everything is in tip-top shape down there.

The alternative is unthinkable.

"Y-Yes," you stutter. "It's normal. For some women...maybe not all. But for me." You chew your lip. "It's kind of embarrassing, actually."

He chuckles, and your brows draw together at the sound.

Jack pushes off the fridge. "Take it from us, sweetheart—middle-aged men who actually understand how a woman's body works just as well as our own—it is anything but something you should be ashamed of."

"Most definitely a turn-on," Robby adds before sliding a hand along the small of your back as he sweeps past, but not before giving you a quick peck on the head.

Once your shift is through, you head out to the parking lot while occupying yourself with a vision of yourself in a steaming bubble bath and reading a romance novel by candlelight.

But only once you've folded and put away the load of laundry you threw in the dryer last night.

Such is life: endless chores.

You observe the curious sight of Jack and Robby chatting by the latter's truck as you steer yourself toward your own vehicle. You don't know how so many people have the energy after work to socialize when all you want to do is to race home to begin decompressing.

With a quiet beep, you unlock your car's trunk and toss your things inside before circling around toward the driver's side... Only to discover a flat tire awaiting you.

You groan in frustration and fight against the temptation to kick it.

What you don't see behind you is the two of them exchanging knowing looks. All Jack had to do was release a few pounds of air, and voilà, their plan was set in motion.

Shaking your head, you pop open your bag to begin digging for your cellphone and AAA membership card until Jack interrupts.

"Flat tire?"

You nod in irritation. "Yes. I'm gonna call AAA."

"We were just going to run out and grab a bite to eat," Robby says. "Could bring you with us, then come back after." He jerks a thumb toward his truck. "I have a portable air compressor in the back."

Releasing your wallet, it drops back down into your purse. You were planning on eating leftovers tonight, but those can always be saved for tomorrow. At least that way, it'll save you another night of cooking.

You turn around to them. "Okay."

When Robby heads toward an empty lot, you raise a brow in question. There's certainly no drive-thru to be found around here. Doesn't look like there's much of anything, in fact, with not even a streetlamp in sight to provide a bit of illumination upon the bare asphalt his truck tires roll upon.

When he throws the vehicle into park and kills the engine, you shift in your seat. "What're we—"

Robby turns fully toward you while Abbot scoots himself closer to the back of the passenger seat you occupy.

"You know, I messed with the valve stem on your car so we'd have an excuse to bring you with us," Jack rasps in your ear.

Your eyes flit between Robby's for explanation.

Robby, who leans in toward you and cups your cheek in his palm.

"Are we not...getting dinner, then?" you ask ignorantly.

Robby chuckles while glancing toward Jack for explanation.

"Maybe later, but we have something else in mind for right now, sweetheart," Jack replies before sliding a hand up the length of your throat and holding firmly to it, but with dexterous gentility.

Robby busies himself with untying the front of your pants before hooking his fingers under the waistline on either side.

"Lift your hips, honey," Jack tells you while swiping his thumb along the underside of your jaw.

You swallow thickly, but lift off the seat momentarily, just like he asked.

In one fell swoop, Robby has pulled your bottoms, as well as your damp panties, all the way down to your ankles, leaving you exposed before them.

"Arms up," Robby mutters before gripping the hem of your top.

Acting on instinct, you raise your arms toward the truck's ceiling and he pulls your shirt over your head before tossing it into the back, beside Jack. Forcing a hand behind you, he unclasps your bra in one swift motion, relieving you of the pesky garment as well.

With his free hand, Jack snakes an arm around your seat and fondles your right breast, leaving the other free for Robby to tend to.

Robby bows his head and sucks your nipple between his lips and gently rolls it between his teeth.

Your hips jerk and you sigh wantonly.

You fell and hit your head in the ED, right? Because this surely is not actually happening.

You hear something unzip behind you, followed by the feel of Jack's fingers twitching against your throat and a moan escaping his lips.

Robby leans back, then sinks his hand between your slick thighs before easing two fingers inside of your wet heat.

"Oh my God," you whimper as your eyes flutter closed.

Jack strokes his cock languidly. "As wet as we thought?" he asks quietly.

Robby swipes his thumb over your clit while shaking his head. "Better. She's absolutely soaked."

You quiet yourself, and listen instead to the sound of your quiet panting, Jack moaning in pleasure, and Robby's fingers making your pussy squelch.

You wiggle your hips. "Mm, another one, please."

With a grin, he obliges your request when he eases a third finger inside of you.

Squeezing tightly around his calloused digits, you loose a shaky breath. God, your heart is pounding so hard that you're sure they can both hear it.

Robby leans over you—sinking impossibly deeper between your fluttering walls—before pressing his lips to yours. Mewling against his lips, his beard, him, you clutch at his hoody while circling your hips, desperate to keep him close.

Toeing off your shoes with a frustrated whine, you maneuver your pants the rest of the way off before propping your socked feet up on his dash and spreading your legs so wide that one of your knees knocks against the window beside of you.

"You need it, don't you, baby?" Jack asks while tightening his grip around your airway.

You nod as Robby's ministrations grow in fervor. "Yes. Please."

With every plunge of his fingers, your slickness pools on the seat beneath your bottom, and his thumb swipes against your swollen bundle of nerves. "Ah," you pant. "S-So close."

Releasing your neck, you gasp when Jack instead grips each of your breasts in his hands and rolls his fingers along their fleshy surface. He tugs against your nipples, fondles them by massaging their peaks, then sinks his dominant hand lower to tend to your clit while Robby grunts as he works feverishly at your needy cunt.

Seeing the way his Carhart pants have tented, you slide a shaky hand across his thigh before finally gripping him tightly in your hand.

He sucks in a sharp breath, then shifts in his seat. Grabbing your left thigh, he jerks it back to give himself a full view of your weeping, swollen cunt.

With blown pupils, he gazes into your eyes. "Finish for me, sweetheart. Come on my hand. Let me see it."

"But take your time," Jack soothes while continuing to circle your clit with lubricated fingers. "Enjoy this."

You nod repeatedly before biting down on your lip and watching Robby's face. The way his lips twitch, or how his wrinkles are accentuated in the lack of light, or how his thick cock throbs to be buried inside of you where it's wet and warm and pleasant—you're unable to concentrate on any one facet of him you're that excited.

You claw at the seat beneath you, completely at their mercy as they race you toward your finish.

"Oh G—"you gasp as a familiar feeling begins to grow between your legs.

"That's it," Robby growls. "Come for me, baby."

You gently rock your hips against his hand, causing the truck to squeak in response.

"I'm..." you swallow, despite your mouth having gone dry. "I'm gonna—"

Using all fingers but his thumb, Jack rapidly swipes them back and forth over your sensitive clit.

"Oh, fuck—" you start before shoving yourself back in your seat—preparing yourself for what's about to happen. But it feels different this time; unlike anything you've ever felt before.

Robby's fingers have seemingly found a part of you that you didn't even know was there. A place full of pleasing pressure.

It feels like you're about to wet yourself.

Throwing your leg over the middle console, and keeping your other spread wide as you possibly can, you scream as you fall over the edge.

The sound of squirting liquid fills the cabin, and when you open your eyes, you realize it's coming from you. Rather, between your legs where Robby is still continuing to finger you with no sign of stopping.

"Goood girl," Jack drawls with affectionate praise.

"Oh, sweetheart," Robby mumbles as his hand slows.

Your right leg slides from the window and back toward the floorboard while your pounding heart slowly returns to a steady rhythm.

"'M sorry," you mumble. "I made a mess. That's never...happened before."

Robby pulls you toward him, and wraps strong, comforting arms around your naked form while showering you in kisses from the top of your head to your chin. "I'll clean it up later. Don't worry about it."

You jolt when you hear Jack open the door behind you, followed by him popping open your own.

"What're you doing?" you question while making to reach for your pants. Just because you can't see anyone around, doesn't mean no one can see the three of you.

You watch as he unbuckles his belt before unzipping his pants and removing his long, weeping cock. Gripping either of your hips, he turns you around before pulling you toward him. "Taking my turn," he replies with a wink.

You could feel your face setting on fire as you desperately tried to think of what to do.

Robby’s eyes weren’t on you anymore as he got rid of his jacket and boots… this would be the perfect time to get up and scurry away towards the bedroom… Robby’s bedroom— Shit.

Your hands went to cover your bare tits as you tried to come up with something else.

“Decided to cut my sabbatical short,” Robby was explaining, “You all were right- as it turns out, I can’t go more than a month without the ED.”

You heard and felt Jack’s snicker, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles where he still held your waist.

His hard cock was still deep inside you, and as much as you hated having to depart from it, you really needed to get off and try to at least regain some decency.

Which is what you tried to do. You began rising from Jack’s lap, but in an instant, his eyes were on you, his brows furrowed.

“Where you going, sweetheart?”

He can’t be serious right now.

You glanced pointedly at Robby behind him, your voice barely a whisper as you murmured his name.

“It’s alright, honey, Robby doesn’t mind,” he spoke softly, his hands caressing you softly. “Do you, Robby?”

Robby’s soft chuckle came from somewhere closer than where he’d previously been.

“I sure don’t,” He was smirking once you slowly raised your gaze.

He’d walked to the edge of the couch, right behind Jack.

You felt your face burn with embarrassment- and yet your pussy clenched harder around Abbot as you caught Michael’s eyes drink you in.

“We were having such a good time,” Jack murmured, his mouth on your collarbones as he pecked your skin, “Would be a shame to stop now.”

Oh God, he was being serious.

“Jack- I-”

Were you dreaming? Was this one of the sick fantasies that materialized in your mind whenever Robby and Abbot were both on shift, and you had to squeeze your tights together at how incredibly hot of a pair they made?

Everything seemed to point in that direction, except for the fact that the feel of Jack’s fingers removing your hands from your naked chest was very much real- the same went for Robby’s voice.

“You know, sweetheart... we had a talk about you before I went away.”

You were bare again now, and Jack was making use of the space, filling it with delicious, taunting kisses as Michael spoke.

“Decided none of us were gonna try anything... didn’t wanna take advantage of you or anything….” His voice was rough and soft all at once as his hand went to cradle your cheek, “and now look at that.”

Heat bloomed low in your belly and on your cheeks as you heard yourself whimper.

What he was saying was… unbelievable. They liked you- both of them. Just as you liked them.

This was really happening- Dr. Robinavitch was watching you as you sat on Dr. Abbot’s cock. And they both looked incredibly casual, as if this were a daily occurrence.

“Since when has this been going on?”

When you didn’t answer, Jack stopped his ministrations on your neck to speak, “Just two weeks, man.”

“Is he lying to me?” Robby asked you, his head tilted in doubt.

“N-no,” You murmured as you cowered under his stare.

To that, he smirked, shaking his head as he muttered, “A week- that’s how long you lasted.”

“C’mon, man- you knew it was bound to happen.” Jack groaned, looking at you with a smirk as his mouth ghosted yours, “You’re too pretty not to do something about it.”

You felt your heart skip, and your hips involuntarily grind against Jack’s lap- causing you to whimper pathetically.

“Oh sweetheart…” Abbot cooed, his hands going back to rest on your hips, “Go on, take what you need.”

There was nothing you wanted to do more. As unusual as this situation was, you were so turned on that you feared you’d start dripping on the couch any second now.

Yet you watched the two men uncertainly, biting your lip as you went against your instinct to use Jack’s manhood to feel good.

“Go on, baby,” Robby encouraged you once your eyes settled on him, “Do as he said.”

His palm was still on your cheek, his thumb pulling on your lower lip to free it from your teeth’s grip… and you had no choice but to obey.

You started slow, shily grinding onto him, feeling Jack’s dick graze and reach all those sweet spots inside of you as your clit rubbed against his base.

Your mouth hung open as soft whines filtered through your throat. Robby’s hands held your face so you could only look at him- and the look in his eyes… the darkness in his iris and the locking of his jaw gave you all the more incentive to go faster.

You began raising yourself on Jack’s dick just to slide back down again until you found the delicious pace from before your interruption.

Your moans weren’t so quiet anymore as you struggled to keep your eyes open and gripped Jack’s shoulders for dear life, your nails probably leaving crescent moons on his skin.

“So good for me, baby,” Jack murmured against your neck, resuming his kisses on your salty skin as he thoroughly enjoyed the show. “Such a good girl.”

You cried like a desperate little thing at that, his dick hitting that spongy spot inside of you that had you feeling on cloud nine.

“Jack feels good, baby?” Robby’s voice felt muffled, as if the pleasure was acting as a sound shield.

“Y-yes,” You whined, your voice breathless, your movements more and more desperate, “B-big,” you cried brokenly.

You felt Abbot’s growl vibrate against your chest at that, and seconds later, you felt his mouth against your ear as he whispered loud enough for Robby to hear, “You’ve seen nothing yet.”

You didn’t have the brain capacity to understand what he meant by that, or to analyze the grin that spread Michael’s lips at those words, because all you could focus on was the growing sensation that sparked in your belly.

“Oh my god,” You whined, your thighs burning with the effort as the sound of your skin slapping with Jack’s echoed against the walls.

“It’s ok, baby,” Robby murmured, watching closely as your eyes almost closed and your brows furrowed in bliss, “You’re doing so good.”

You didn’t even realize you were doing it, but as Robby guided his thumb into your mouth, instinctually, your lips closed around it, sucking him in further.

“That’s it, baby,” he nodded, the weight of his finger on your tongue making you wish it was replaced by his cock. And that image… that image made your orgasm approach even faster.

Your moans were silenced by Robby’s thumb, but Jack could feel your walls gripping him like a vice.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he commanded, kissing the spot right beneath your ear. “Be a good girl and show Robby how pretty you look when you come.”

That was it.

You didn’t even have time to mentally prepare yourself that a bright white flash of pure ecstasy overtook your soul.

You came like the world would end tomorrow, your pussy spasming around Jack as he couldn’t help but follow suit.

Somewhere in the frenzy, you could hear Abbot’s groans while Robby murmured what appeared to be soft words to you, his hand never leaving your face.

The pounding of your heart thumped in your ears as you tried to calm your breathing.

Your eyes fluttered open to both the men looking at you, Jack’s eyes soft with gratification and adoration, while Robby’s irises swirled with lust and just plain need.

“You wanna switch?”

Jack’s words didn’t even make sense to you. You were still lost in the haze of what had just happened.

“Not on the couch, man.” Robby shook his head, his lips pulling into a small smile as he watched you. “Let’s get on the bed, baby.”

__ __  __

Your legs felt like jelly as Robby towered over you.

You knew what was happening, and yet your brain was still buffering.

His lips were so close to yours… just a few inches and you’d be kissing him.

But that’s not what he had in mind.

“Lay down for me, baby.”

You blinked, needing a second to understand his command and do as told.

The mattress was soft, the comfy duvet wrinkling underneath you as you laid back, your wide eyes watching him.

With a quick move, he removed his shirt, throwing it behind him… in the direction of Abbot.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him leaning against the wall, his eyes dark as he watched the scene unfold.

By the time you looked back, Robby was naked- and your lungs took another toll.

You were propped on your elbows, shamelessly eying all of him. His broad chest, the dark hair on his pecs, on his belly, until your gaze lowered just enough to catch his cock-

You were pretty sure you’d stopped breathing completely.

That’s what they’d been talking about.

You really had seen nothing yet.

You swallowed dryly as his big hand wrapped around his dick, giving it two slow strokes that had him seemingly grow even more.

Your eyes were wide as he stalked closer to you, his smirk everlasting.

“R-Robby,” you stuttered, clearly intimidated.

“’S alright, baby. I’ll go real slow.”

“I-I- How…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, “spread your legs for me, baby.”

And even if your heart was going crazy and your brain was telling you that was an impossible fit, you did as told.

“Wider.”

You slid your feet further across the bed, opening yourself up to him completely, eliciting a delighted groan.

“Pretty,” he murmured, his palm going to your mound and his thumb moving to your folds, exploring slowly.

Jack’s come was still leaking out of you, creating a sultry mixture with your own juices.

Your cheeks heated at his unabashed gaze, but then his other hand grabbed the base of his manhood, his tip suddenly parting your folds, and all thoughts left your head.

You were whimpering already, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and Michael would have done anything to record those sweet sounds and listen to them on repeat all day long.

“It’s ok, baby, relax for me.” That’s all he murmured, as he started guiding his impossibly thick tip inside of you.

“Oh!” You gasped, your eyes wide open as you watched him thrust into you.

He was looking at where your bodies melted into one another, watching your greedy pussy swallow him in.

The stretch burned at first- he had the biggest cock you’d ever seen after all- counting porn- but his soft growls and groans were making you all the more pliant.

His thumb started circling your clit to help you out as broken cries fled your throat.

He was retracting his hips just to thrust softly into you, over and over again, filling you up inch by never-ending inch.

“O-Oh my god,” You were crying, your hands fisting the sheets as he kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he reassured you, his free hand tight on our waist. “Stretching so good for me- such a good girl.”

Your walls tightened around him at that, causing him to hiss.

“Let me in- just like that… good girl”

You knew the moment he was in to the hilt, because you could barely breathe at the feeling of how unbelievably full you felt.

Breathy gasps spilled from your lips as your gazes met.

“Told you you could do it,” he smirked, before he started to move.

The moan you let out at the first full, deep thrust was more of a scream.

“Robby!” you gasped, your fingers gripping his forearm as he started building his pace.

His back hurt like a motherfucker from all those hours on his bike, but he’ll be damned if he denied himself this sight.

“He always makes you do all the work?”

How his voice was still so even when you could barely breathe, let alone think, was a mystery.

You want to tell him the truth, that no, Jack was usually very much adamant in his need to take care of you, to pin you beneath him and fuck you thoroughly well into the day… but all you could manage was a whine.

You watched his lips pull into a grin at the state he’d rendered you in.

“Oh, c’mon, brother, I’ve just come back from a twelve-hour shift,” Jack defended himself from his spot against the wall as your eyes found him.

You could see from the bed, even with his boxers back on, that he was hard again.

God, this was all so hot.

The way both their eyes were only focused on you as Robby’s thrusts had you bouncing up on the bed, your tits moving in tandem with his harsh movements…

“And she hasn’t?” Robby raised his brows, shooting Jack a quick, disappointed look, before coming back to you.

“You don’t have to worry about it now, baby,” he spoke softly, the thumb he still had on your bundle of nerves resuming its torturous movements. “I’ll take care of you like you deserve from now on.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at those words.

Your hips were chasing his movements, forcing the loud smacking of his skin hitting your core over and over again to get even louder.

You could feel every inch of his dick inside you, every vein and ridge slide against your velvety walls as his tip speared you and reached parts of you no one ever could find but him.

And with a feeling like that… it was inevitable for tears to gather in your eyes, your vision blurring as a knot of pleasure tightened inside you.

“Oh baby, I know it’s a lot.” his voice was calming, soothing your overexited system.

It was a lot. He was a whole damn lot.

“Just take it,” he cooed, “Don’t think about it, sugar, just be good for me and Jack, yeah?”

You slowly nodded, tears rolling down your temples and onto the sheets as the air filled with your moans.

“That’s it, pretty girl— that’s it.”

And suddenly, it was all too much.

“I-I- Oh my-”

He groaned at how tight you got. His chest inflating with the effort not to come on the spot.

“Let go, baby,” he instructed. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

The last thing you saw was his smile; everything after that was sort of a blur.

A tidal wave of pleasure washed over your body; you were pretty sure you were moaning his name like a prayer as you experienced a mind-blowing orgasm.

Your eyes and ears started functioning again as Robby’s thrusts got sloppier, more erratic.

He grinned as you whimpered at the overstimulation, his groans getting louder as he got closer, until he spilled inside you with a feral roar.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed after several moments, slowly pulling out of you.

Jack had gotten beside him somewhere in the meantime, and both men’s eyes fell to the release spilling out of your spent core.

“C’mere,” you whined, breaking them out of their amazed trance.

They both smiled, and it was Jack who joined you on the bed first, moving you so your head could rest on the pillow as he spooned you, wrapping his arms around you.

“You did real good, sweetheart,” he murmured to your ear, his stubble grazing your skin as your eyes fluttered shut.

You were exhausted.

You didn’t even hear Robby lying down next to you until he placed your head to rest on his chest.

“So… am I gonna have to sanitize every surface of the house?”

A soft laugh fled your throat as Jack grinned amusedly.

“The kitchen should be saf—” The look you sent Jack had him suddenly remember all the alternative meals he’d consumed on the kitchen counter. “No, yeah… the whole apartment.”

you moan, your hands clawing at robby’s chest, fingernails digging into his skin as his digits push deeper, curling, dragging against that spongy spot inside you. your hips buck, trying to fuck his hand, but he pins you down with his other palm flat on your belly.

“fuck, i’m gonna—” you cut yourself off with a high, desperate whine as he curls his fingers just right, the pads of his middle and ring fingers rubbing against your g-spot in tight, focused circles.

“there you go, there you go,” robby murmurs, watching your face twist — your mouth open, breath hitching, eyes fluttering. he looks over at jack. “i asked you what your record was. five?”

“for her?” jack hums as he steps out, just a towel on, hair still wet after his shower, watching you on the bed, naked and needy.

robby nods, looking to jack as if they’re just having a regular conversation, as if you’re not really there.

“six,” jack says. “in... fuck, honey, what was it?”

you can barely think straight, babbling incoherently as robby pushes you toward another peak. his digits pump in and out of your dripping cunt, driving you wild.

“he asked you something,” robby says sternly, tapping your cheek lightly. “speak. now.”

your brain is barely able to form words as you mutter, “three hours. it-it was three hours — fuck me, i’m gonna—”

“yeah? you’re gonna what?” robby wonders, helping you get to that high.

you hesitate with your answer, only focused on how he pushes you closer to the edge, until he raises his brows at you with a nod, tapping your chin.

“gonna-gonna cum. please. fuck—” you whine.

“you’re being a dick,” jack murmurs as he goes back into the bathroom, finishing brushing his teeth.

“she loves it,” robby sighs. “i think i can break that.”

“break what? my record?” jack scoffs from the bathroom.

“yeah. six in three? she’s about to do three in one. that’s another one per hour. i could bring it to two, make it eight. go ahead, honey. make it three for me,” robby hums, not looking away from you now as you come undone under his fingers, whining low and pitchy all at once as you scratch at robby’s chest, hair digging under your fingernails slightly as you peak. “good girl. good girl, yeah, feels nice, doesn’t it?” he hums as he watches you soak his fingers again.

jack spits into the sink again. “if you make it eight, then i have to make it ten. it’s an honour thing. my girlfriend — i have to hold the record.”

“if you make it ten, i have to make it twelve,” robby remarks as you pant beneath him, his fingers dragging out of you. a light slap over your folds makes you whine as you drag your hands over his cock. “less an honour thing, more pride.”

“are you seriously making this — what? some sort of competition?” jack scoffs as he walks out of the bathroom. he leans down toward you and kisses you sweetly. “hey, baby.”

you moan into his lips before jack moves away.

“me? competitive? not at all,” robby groans as your hands wrap around him. “fuckin’ — give me a second, will you? needy tonight,” robby murmurs, kissing at your tits sweetly as you slow your movement before pulling back and looking to jack, who’s headed to his dresser to get dressed. “but you? you love competition.”

“bullshit,” jack sighs as he drops his towel, pulling on his boxers before sitting down in an armchair.

“yeah? what was that situation last—” robby groans when your fingers find their way over his tip. “oh, sweetheart, fucking...” he hums, hanging his head into the crook of your neck.

jack watches with a hum as robby manhandles you beneath him, switching positions as robby sits at the head of the bed, moving your hips over his, lining his cock up with your core before guiding you down over him, feeling you ride him, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“what was that... situation you had with shen, then? last month? most patients in twenty minutes?” robby recalls, groaning as he watches you bottom out on him, pussy warm and tight around him.

“that’s different. we were helping people,” jack sighs.

“we’re helpin’ someone,” robby shrugs, a hand over the back of your head, gripping at your scalp. “isn’t that right, sweetheart? we’re helping you.”

you moan, clenching tighter around him. robby hums, groaning softly.

“think you’re just afraid i’m gonna win.”

jack scoffs, rolling his eyes as he moves to sit next to the two of you on the bed, beside robby, as if this is the most casual conversation they could possibly have while you ride him.

“oh, brother, you aren’t gonna win. i know her body. know what she responds to,” jack sighs as he watches you.

“think i do too.”

robby’s fingers work magic on your clit, rubbing gentle circles as he moves your hips to a new angle. your back arches, a low moan escaping your lips as the pleasure builds.

“goddamn it, right there, honey, right there,” robby groans, hitting his head against the headboard as he loses himself in your tight heat. his cock throbs inside you, coated in your slick arousal.

“fine, fine. we’re doing this,” jack sighs, leaning against the headboard as he watches you take robby’s cock. “what should we cap it off at? what are the rules?”

“i don’t know. fucking hell,” robby groans, fingers rubbing firm circles on your clit. your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more.

“now you’re pussy-drunk?” jack says with a smirk. “see what you did to the mean one now, baby? made him an idiot.”

robby slaps jack lightly on the chest, telling him to shut up. jack grabs his wrist and moves robby’s hand to his own cock, making him stroke him.

“you wanna talk rules?” robby scoffs as he moves his hand up and down jack’s shaft. jack inhales sharply at the contact, letting go of robby’s hand as he leans back, watching you intently.

“well, we aren’t animals... gotta make her feel good first and foremost,” jack says, eyes glued to your bouncing tits and pretty moans.

“she’ll be fine.” robby speeds up his hand over jack’s cock before giving up, too focused on you. jack sighs and takes over stroking himself, fisting his thick shaft as he watches you take robby’s cock like a pro.

robby’s hips thrust up into your wet heat, fucking you harder, deeper. his fingers rub firm circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

left arm wrapped around your torso while his right crosses over to press a hand to the back of your sweaty hair. holding you to his shoulder, you mouth at jack’s skin, sucking and kissing and rubbing your cheek against him as he pulses inside of you. a slow grind, your favorite, causes you to whine out against him.

“i love you, honey. love you so much, my comfy girl. can’ya keep takin me? hm? keep takin’ jackie’s cock? love you so much.”

his eyes are screwed shut as he lifts his hips into you, still holding your head to rest against him. “‘m always gonna take care a’you. never have to worry about anything. know why? daddy loves you, sweet, pretty girl. gimme kiss”

you whine against his mouth, a pathetic, weeping sound, and he loses it more. moving both arms back to your torso, he’s got you in the tightest bear hug, arms squeezing for a second in affection. he rests his cheek on your back, mirroring you, surrendering to all of his intrinsic need.

“say it.” “d-” “say it baby, c’mon. tell daddy.” “love you!” “yeah? you love me?” “yes daddy,” you cry out, slobbering down his back without a care as he fucks up into you. your nails scratch down his back as you hiccup, your tummy sticking together from the heat of the room, you can feel his happy trail rubbing against your lower belly. “i love you so much jack” “i love you- oh my god- i love you more. come on baby, cum for daddy, that’s it… fuck, that’s it.”

afterwards you stay seated in his lap, falling asleep as he lightly rocks you both back and forth. gently, he whispers into the moonlit room, “hey.. lemme see you.. lemme see that pretty face.” and when you pull back to look at him, swaying a bit in exhaustion, his green eyes glitter. a fondness etched into the very fabric of what it means to be a man like jack who loves a woman crosses over his face.

warm eyes, a little smirk as he holds your cheeks with both hands. “you feel how much i love you?” “yeah” you agree, blushing and keening under his attention. he smiles, laughing in the enchanting way only an older man can. “good. can i hold you a little longer? love you so much, kid, can’t get enough of you.”

you’re closer now, arm to arm with your body turned into his. his brows furrow, rubbing at the growing stubble on his cheek. Jack wraps his arm around you now, palming at your hip lovingly and allowing you to lie on his chest. “and toys don’t..i mean is that still on the table for you?” “i use them..but it just..gets boring after a while. tiring. i wanna have sex, not just..play with myself all the time.”

the image of you with your legs spread, using a dildo or wand on yourself is front and center of his mind. he sees you whining with frustration, bucking your hips needily. jesus. “i mean is it me? did i do something, am i just not sexy anymore? you’d tell me if he told you that, right, Jack?” you’re looking at him with big, tear brimming eyes while you paw at his chest. Jack is a weak man, sweetie.

“of course i’d tell you sweetheart, he’s..Robby’s somewhere else right now. don’t blame yourself you’re..you’re so sexy. sexiest girl i know, that’s for sure.” he gives you a gentle smile, but you’ve still got that pouty, needy look on your face. “really?” “yes really honey, robby’s bein’ real stupid…”

he’s gazing into your eyes, mind racing as he licks at his lips. “he’s being mean too.” “real mean. i’d..never be mean to you.” he can’t help himself when he closes the gap between you two, pushing his lips onto yours. you moan upon impact, fisting his shirt as he grabs at your body, rubbing down your hips before hoisting you fully onto his lap.

he feels how much you need this in the kiss, pushing your tongue in his mouth, your hands snaking up his neck and into his hair, yanking it slightly. the way your body arches into his, legs raising slightly to kiss him harder, pushing him deeper into the couch. you moan when you feel your clothed cunt drag along his bulge, brows furrowing hard before grinding down, getting a sound out of him.

“fuck.” he whispers, still messily kissing you, hands now grabbing at your warming love hands under your big shirt. your ring twists into his curls, making him wince, which makes you pull away. “are you ok??” you pull your hand away, letting him take it softly in his. “your-your ring, got my hair.” your ring. your wedding ring.

“oh my god. Jack i..” you put your hands on his chest, scooting down off his lap, though still straddling his thighs. “i can’t do this with you, oh my god..” you rub your hands down your face, the cold metal against your hot skin feels like a zap. “wha..why not?” he breaths, brows pinched with confusion as he pulls your hands away from your face.

“Robby, Jack. i..he’s my husband i can’t do that to him! i’m so terrible!” you scoff, eyes wide with fear. “you’re not terrible, what’re you scared of? betraying him?? what the fuck has he been doing to you, then?” he pulls you back closer, so close your hands roughly land on his chest.

you pull your head from his gaze, keeping your hands down for distance, but he doesn’t let you. “that’s different Jack, he’s..disembodied right now he’s just distant..” “that’s still neglecting his wife. shutting you out, which is the last person he should be doing that to. i never once shut out my wife. you said it yourself. he’s being mean.”

you pout, whining at the words that sting to your heart. Robby is being mean. he’s being mean to everyone, but you especially. “Jack i..” you scoff, you can’t even find the words, “it’s not right, i mean i love him too much.” “you can still love him, it’s not like im some guy. you know me, sweetheart..” you don’t fight when he kisses down the shell of your ear, trialing slowly down your neck in a way that makes you shiver.

your arms end up at his shoulders, eyes shutting in his touch. “i just wanna help you. been so long for you.” his stubble tickles your neck as he speaks low, almost a whisper. you’ve only heard this sugary tone once before. “been wanting this, right? to be touched like this? kissed like this?” he moves slowly down your comfy shorts, cupping your ass as the cotton slides off at the knuckles of his huge hands.

“yeah..” it comes out more pathetic than you could control, but your heart was pounding out your chest. “yeah..” he nods, kissing back up your jaw and taking your lips in his. “i know. let me do this for you.” you raise up to let him pull off your shorts, and the heat turns up in an instant. the kiss turning passionate, moans and groans trading under tongues as you lift his shirt over his shoulder, “can’t..” you pant, eyes hooded.

“cant happen again,” your hands move faster than you can think, untying and pulling down his scrub bottoms. “only one time. this time.” “this time.” he repeats, and you squeak when his big hand cups your pussy over your underwear, a throaty hum exiting him as he feels how fucking wet you were.

you can’t remember the last time you were so fired up to fuck. grabbing at whatever you could while he fingered you open, accidentally scratching at his biceps as your hips move greedily against him. “you’re so fuckin’ wet sweetheart, want this real bad.” he pants, eyes locked in you as you moan into the air. “please just…Jack please.. need it.” it almost comes as a sob, and he couldn’t ever refuse you. not like this, especially.

“lemme take it out. gonna get it sweetie, promise. gonna give it to you.” there’s that sugary tone again, and you find yourself moving at his command without a second thought, throwing your shirt off your sweaty body and reaching for his leg. you help him pull off his boxers and then his prosthetic, hearing a sigh of relief above him as you set it down.

he moves you back over him, and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of his hung, veiny dick. “jesus you’re..so big,” and he wants to say something cocky. he really does. but he just thumbs at your hip, nodding with a small smirk. “you can handle it.”

your eyes are big on his as you lift yourself over his cock, letting him guide you onto his tip, then his girth. he goes slow, gripping your hips as he rocks you lower and lower, drinking in the little gasps and squeals you let out. “Jack you’re-fuck you’re so big, you’re so fucking big,,” you whine, shaky breaths as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“you’re taking it.” his voice is rasped, quiet watching your pussy engulf him. “you’re taking it baby i promise, you’re fuckin’ takin’ it. so good too, holy shit.” he wants to let all his greedy, jealousy induced thoughts out. can’t believe robby’s missing out on this, fuck. should’ve bagged this pussy forever ago, clearly Robby wasn’t putting it to good use. but it doesn’t exit his mind, not wanting you to feel worse about it all.

“oh yes, oh my god yes,” you moan out, head thrown back as your hips take over, his hands guiding you ever so gently as you bounce on his cock. “fuck you’re..fuck Jack it’s so good,” he moans under you, your pleasure making the butterflies dancing in his stomach as you fuck yourself on him.

“that’s it sweetheart, there you fuckin’ go. y’like that? yeahhh baby, feels soo good.” his eyes roll back, hands grabbing at every curve he could before the moment was over. pawing at your tits, smacking at your ass, squeezing at your belly. you’re everything to him, sweetie.

he can’t help but let himself submit to you in this time of need, in this sweet notion of helping his friend. because that what it really was. just helping his friend blow some steam, she’s just pent up. losing the same amount of calories as if he took you boxing. nothing wrong with it. “yeah sweetie, let it all out. just like thaat, fucking god,” he feels dizzy watching you hump him. your body’s consumed with greed, with a mission in mind.

latching onto him, filling your house with high shaky moans. and he was doing so much for you, and more. grabbing you, holding you lovingly close to him as you ride him into the couch cushion he was leaning his back into you. letting out sweet words to you, praise, helping you through riding him. groaning loudly into the room, the sounds alone coming from him fueling you, swelling your head.

sounds Robby never made. never talked you through it unless it’d been a long time, or till he was close. barely made noise either, no matter how many times youve told him you liked it. you were jelly in Jacks touch. he was pushing you steadily over your edge, whether he touched you or not. he filled you completely, inside and out.

his left hand started shoving you down on his cock, your moans coming out in sharp, quick gasps of air, eyes wide watching yourself slam on his dick and feeling his tip kiss that sponges spot in you. his right hand sucks on his thumb, getting it nice and wet before bringing it to your puffy clit, flicking it in a way that makes you suck in a harsh breath, dragging your nails down his shoulder, a high moan exiting you as you throw your head back.

“fuck ohmygo-Jack!” your moans are bordering on pornographic. and you look fucking delicious. hips bucking up to his touch all jittery, sweat gleaming your tits as they bounce with every move. your nose is scrunched slightly as the side of your mouth sneers upturned, and your brows sitting hard and tightly pinched, so overturned with pleasure you can’t control how loud you are. and Jack is straight up drinking it in.

“you’re so good, you’re fucking me so good Jack, better than i’ve ever fuckin’ felt..!” your words come up high, it’s music to his ears. to get that out of you, to know you’ve been with Robby almost half a decade, and Jack barely moving his hips is the best you’ve felt in that long?

“you’re fucking me, sweetie, and you’re doin’ so good. look at you, takin’ it from me..” his eyes are hooded over your body, his soft puppy eyes working over you in your vulnerable state. “keep using me baby, just fuckin’ take it. haven’t gotten dick like this before, haven’t had this in so long, right? you deserve this. say it.”

it’s barely getting through your ears honestly. your stomach is heaving, your ears are almost ringing, eyes rolling back as you fuck yourself on his thick cock like a toy. “i deserve it..” you slur in heavy pants, eyes rolling back as you feel your heated orgasm approach. “yeah you do. yeah you fuckin’ do sweetheart,” he’s quick to hold you in his grasp when you collapse into him, mushing into his shoulder while you grind lazily.

his arm wraps around you, turning in his place to keep you close, keeping his pace on your throbbing clit as you shudder against him. “there we fuckin’ go, cmon you can do it. been talkin’ about gettin’ fucked for weeks i know you can do it. use me sweetie, use me like you fuckin’ mean it,” there’s a rough, almost degrading tone in his words, and your body submits to him at the impact.

he fucks into you from the side, your leg coming up immediately to let him in deeper, and as he groans in your ear, your dam breaks. “ohhh Jack, oh god, Jack!” it’s one big breath before you’re gasping out again, shrinking into him as your pussy flutters around his dick, stomach so tight as you practically burst under him.

“don’t stop, please don’t stop im..im—” you can’t even finish your words, and Jack doesn’t mind a bit. nodding to your words, his mouth echoing yours, agape with his own groans as his eyes roll back. “let it alll out baby, take it fr’me it’s all yours..” you feel you leg cramp up from how hard your orgasm had hit you, your body falling limp on Jack as he continues fucking into you, removing his hand from your shaking pussy to hold your leg up.

his lashes feel weighted, glittering as he takes in the sight of you, your fucked out face as your eyes rest, down your sweaty body, to where you two met, the creamy ring around his cock glistening and cresting rather nasty strings of cum as he thrusts into you. heat builds in his chest, his cock twitches inside of you and his hips stutter. that cold sweat rolls over him, and he looks to the ceiling with an oh god before back at you.

“that’s it baby, that’s it, that’s fucking it,” his praises to you turn into revelations of the immense pleasure weighing on him. hunching over you and pushing you on your back on the couch, finding the balance to slam into you. you moan in tandem at the new position, the way he lays all his unbalanced weight on your thighs he’s keeping up, slamming into you like it’s beyond his control.

with your back arched off the cushion and your hands fisting st it from the side, you watch his face as he loses his composure, bitting his lip before letting groans spill from him like a music box, eyes rolled to the ceiling as his brows flex to the hairline. “oh my god, can’t even..aghh can’t fucking believe you gave this pussy to Robby,” he rolls his eyes, “did so fucking good, scratching me up and shit you-you’re fuckin’ everything..”

his mouth moves faster than his mind. poor guys lost in the sauce, chest heavy as it turns that familiar red you’ve only seen a few times in the sun. “god you’re so good, gimme a kiss sweetie, so prouda’ you,” you practically yank him down onto you, kissing so sloppily you think drool is getting everywhere because of how over the moon you guys are.

you gasp sharply, feeling his tip kiss at your cervix. you dig your nails into his neck, a high, almost pained moan exiting you through his lips. “Jack you’re—Jack hold on,” you mewl, though feeling him shake his head frantically. “i know sweetie i-im sorry i just-fuck i can’t, icanticanticant,” he moans, and his following groans come up higher, weaker as if he’d been yelling all night (which..he probably has).

“can’t stop, fuck you’re so good, m’gonna cum, baby m’gonna cum,” he doesn’t even try to kiss you anymore, “you’re so good, doin’ so fucking good baby i..” you hear the slapping of skin from between you, feeling impossibly split open as he slams into you, groaning like he couldn’t breath.

with a final loud groan he grabs at the cushion next to your head, eyes tightly screwed as his hips come to a halt, and you feel his dick twitch into you as he finishes hard, the following groans coming out as weak whines. Jack lets his body collapse over you, reaching behind himself to caress at your shaking legs, still panting into each other’s mouths.

“did i..hurt you?” he whispers, you feel his lashes against your crows feet. “no, no. just..was a lot. is your leg ok..?” look at you. all the more worrying. all the more caring, loving. it makes Jack chuckled breathily, shaking his head as he kisses at your cheek. “i’m ok, sweetheart. been through worse.”

he pushes himself off you, giving you a once over for any damage before pulling out, sitting upright next your body. speeding your pussy with his thumb and pointer, in the blink of an eye he’s watching his cum seep out of you and onto your ass, and almost onto the couch cushion had he not cupped his hand under the leakage, stuffing it back in you. “fuck i..i didn’t mean to uh..just got carried away.” he gives you a remorseful look, that he also looks away from to gaze at your beat, puffy pussy.

“are you on birth control?” “no..i stopped a few months ago. we wanted to try for a baby.” your cheek quirked to the side before you pout a little, and Jack feels his heart break a little. “ok. i’ll get you plan b, then.” you nod and lift on, crawling into his lap once again, but this time, you give him a slow, gentle kiss.

“thank you..Jack..” you sigh, feeling him wrap his arms around you. “don’t gotta thank me. just wanted to help you, sweet thing. s’what friends are for.” he joked, making you scoff a chuckle. you nod, “yeah. what friends are for.” for fucking so hard you see stars. of course. “lemme get my foot awake, then we’ll clean up.”

“you always miss her, but she’s sleepy..” you say into your pillow, though Jack knows you better than that. he feels you grind against his hand as he works his fingers into you. “i know she is, she’s also a little sticky,” he perks a brow, pulling his cock out and stroking long and slow. “i won’t wake her up too bad. just wanna give her a lil hug. is that ok momma?”

you giggle softly at the word, the word he uses when he’s really trying to goad something out of you. “mm…i guess. only a small hug, though. just the tip.” fuck. “okay, just the tip. you can go back to sleep baby, i’ll be nice.” he’ll be nice alright.

it’s only when he’s thrusting his tip inside you, soaking his cock and watching your pussy clench around him each time, that he thinks about not being nice. gripping your love handles, brows pinched and lip tucked between his teeth watching you stretch around him, even if it’s just his tip.

“fuck baby, feels so good..” he’d mutter into the room, hearing you sleepily whine and mewl from the side. and he wants to keep this going. doesn’t want to disturb his sleepy girl, who was so kind enough to bless him with her tight pussy. but you just feel too good baby, way too good. he can’t take it.

he’s wiping a tear from his eye with his shoulder, the small groans turning into needy whines, stroking the length that was left without any love from you. he leans up a little watch you face, seeing how your brows crease with the little bit of pleasure, and how you’ve been playing with your clit under the cover the whole time. you probably want it too, pumpkin.

he doesn’t give it much thought after that, sweeping your hair off your neck and taking a light hold of it in his hand, gripping your waist and bending you the tiniest but forward. you don’t even have time to think about the action, because in the split second that it registers, he’s pushing his fat, long dick in you until he can’t anymore, your eyes shooting open you as your senses are intruded upon.

“oh-hooh fu—” you can’t even finish your words before you’re cutting yourself off with a pornographic moan, one that’d make the birds flinch. he groans loudly from behind you, eyes rolling back shut and head tipping backwards. and he’s so mean. not giving you a fraction of a second before he’s pulling out and plunging deep in you at the rate of a rabbit in heat.

“fuck, fuck! Jack!?” you moan out, your arms shooting up to grab whatever you could, sheets and cover in your grip as you clench down on him, your eyes squeezing shut so fast you see the stars. his groans are ragged, tired, raspy. like he’s been screaming all damn night. and his grip on your body is even worse, there’s probably gonna be a bruise there, pumpkin. you understand.

“i know baby, i knoww fuck,” he drawls out, biting his lip as he continued to thrust into you. “fuck you’re so good, you’re so fucking good i-i couldn’t do it pumpkin..” you can barely him him over yourself, and the clapping sound from under the covers that grew louder the quicker he fucked you.

he fucked you like he was running a race. funny for someone with half a leg, right? it was hurried, eager. just how long was he thinking of burying into you like this? “you lied, yer’ a fucking liar..” your words come out shaky, vocal cords moving in tune with the way your body jerked against the bed.

his eyes shoot open, mouth agape as he catches a look at your face: mouth agape in a frown, nose scrunched and eyes rolling to the ceiling. you’re fuckin’ lovin’ it. “i knoww baby i know, i’m sorryyy,” he whines through gritted teeth, and if you could look back you’d see the way his brows are pulled together tight and he’s giving his little puppy eyes.

“i’m sorry baby i just-” he huffs a breath, “you just feel so good. i can’t wait too long, yknow that…” his hand snakes to the front of your throat, hoisting you back against his chest as he palms at your tits, jackrabbitting his cock in you as he plants wet kisses on your shoulder.

“had a long fuckin’ night, needed my girl, ok? i just need you baby,” he puts on that sweet, doting voice he’d usually pair with the signature puppy eyes, he knows what works. knows what has you whining and submitting to his dirty tricks, telling him something like “i love you so much jackie u can use me whenever you want :’(.” like you were doing now.

“daddy’s sorry baby, daddy’s so sorry,” he’s huffing and puffing from behind you, groaning into your ear as he uses your cunt, stuffing you full, hips jittering as he approaches his peak quickly. “baby i-i wanna cum, wanna cum so fucking bad i can’t take it,” he pushes your head to the side, angling you just enough to catch your lips and kiss you hurriedly.

you moan upon impact, snaking your hand backwards to run your fingers through his hair. “i’ll-ill fuckin’ stop if you want but i wanna cum so bad baby, can daddy cum in you? pretty please?” how can you say no to him? you’re already putty in his hands, mouth open as you moan into each others mouth.

“you can cum daddy, m’all yours..always gonna let you use me..!” you whine, and he groans out in relief, whines getting raspy and weaker, bruising your tits in his hand as he comes in you, hips twitches while he fills you, panting over your shoulder as he runs his hand down to your stomach, caressing you lovingly.

you feel the distance between you and abbot close as he presses his chest against your shoulder, ducking down near your ear whispering. “seems like you don’t know your own body anymore than those boys do.” he leans forward to get a read on your expression, and you’re there standing still like an embarrassed pup that doesn’t know what to do which makes him smile.

“no need to feel embarrassed.” he reassures, throwing a hand on top of your head, “let me give you hand, help you learn the difference between incapability and never having learned.”

and that’s how you found yourself breaking your own code of ethics. splayed out on jack abbot’s mattress, hugging a pillow against your chest as his tongue worked at your pussy.

he’s on his stomach, his arms hooked underneath your thighs to pull you closer on his mouth. “j—jack …” a moan falls from your lips, the way his tongue glides through your folds. how he angles the tip of his tongue to flex the muscle just before he meets your clit to flick at it.

“focus on the feeling, you gotta relax.” he murmurs, pulling off for just a mili-second before latching back onto the sensitive nub. flattening his tongue as his rocks his mouth against you, he’s hallowing his cheeks causing you to grab at his the roots of his hair in attempt to tug him off.

though he’s swatting your hand away, digging his face deeper — in between your thighs with a low, drawn out groan as your toes curl at the anticipating increase of pleasure making your core tighten.

“oh m— i’m gonna cum, jack- i’m gonna—“

he’s pulling his lips away from your pussy with a wet pop, soaked and glistening by his saliva mixed with your slick — as the tightness in your tummy slowly loosens. “that was damn, close.” jack breathes, wiping his mouth off with the backside of his hand before propping himself up in a position comfortable for his right amputee.

he reaches out, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you towards him. you don’t even resist, not when your own pleasure was stripped from you — you needed anything that could bring back that euphoric feeling.

your hips grind upwards, grinding against nothing but atoms. “see, that’s it— now you know what your body’s wantin’.” his slides a hand from your hips to below your navel, before slowly dragging the pads of his rough fingers down near the mound of your pussy.

carefully grazing over swollen pearl as you whine to the almost there sensation. jack watches the way your body reacts to his touch — pressing his index and middle finger into your slick folds, soaking his fingers in your mess. “‘s a good sign. you’re fuckin’ drenched, sweetheart .” he groans, dragging his digits further down to meet your entrance.

you claw your nails into the pillow your clutching as the tips of his fingers prod at your hole. he’s teasing, intoxicated by the way your hips are still rolling against his hand while you let out little moans as he gently presses his thick fingers inside you.

“m—mngh fuck, jack…” you sighs, tilting your chin up to the ceiling, “yeah? that feels good doesn’t it, kid?” he cooed, flicking his eyes up to trace your expression only to be met with one of his pillows before he’s tugging it away from your chest. “there we goo.” he sings, glossing over sweets features with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, making him click his tongue.

“uh-uh, it feels better when you let it out.” he shakes his head, stuffing your hole with his fingers until he’s knuckles deep — angling his fingers in an upward direction that rips a moan from your throat as he curls his digits inside of you.

and the action shoots right through the nerves within your sensitive bud. “i can f—feel it in my clit.” you stammer, brows furrowed as indescribable pressure builds against your badder and swells your nub. “mhmm, that’s right.” he hums, pressing the pads of fingers deeper against that spongy wall inside of you, as your toes curl.

“the g-spot, you’re jackpot, baby.” he rasps with a lopsided grin — shifting his position to lie down on his side, right besides you as his nose presses into the side of your cheek. “the more pressure you add…” he murmurs as his breath warms your skin, pressing with cruel precision that makes the place between your legs run warm.

“j— jack.” you mewl, eyes shut tight with a hand reach at his. “the more you get that peeing feeling.” he demonstrates, feeling your soft walls close in around his fingers.

you can feel the way your bladder fills with each nudge of his movements — like he’s milking the sensation out of you. as if he’s adding fuel to the sensitive nerves bundle inside you as your clit twitches to the repetitive motion.

“and if i press my thumb righttt against this pretty fuckin’ clit.” he groans, darting his thumb upward before pressing the pad flush against your clit. “nnnnmg-my god!” you gasp, back arching off the mattress while squeezing your thighs around his hand.

his fingers and thumb stimulating both pleasurable points at once has your mind blanking. eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you’re choking on a plethora of moans.

“‘m gonna cum— m’gonna cum, i’m—” you can feel a surge of warmth flood your nerves as you slur your words. “theree you go, melt into that feeling for me.” he groans, as your walls choke around his digits stuffing your pussy full with his thumb working circles against your overstimulated clit.

you feel your tummy tighten, vision flash white as the sensation completely overrides your body. “cummmingg!” you inhale breathlessly, holding your breath as your clit throbs with a dangerous amount of pleasure before you’re gushing everywhere.

“atta girl.” jack whistles with satisfaction — and you can’t even respond, still too busy making a mess all over yourself and jack’s arm. you’re body’s tenses against his chest as he continues milking you dry, letting you ride the feeling out while pressing his mouth against your ear. “gotta few more things ‘m sure your body’s never done.” he murmurs.

You must have done something evil in a past life because your landlord had decided to sell his place with no notice, which left you and other roommates with two weeks to find a new place to live before he evicted all of you. You remember spending countless sleepless nights scouring the internet, meeting random people, seeing random apartments. 

That’s how you met Jack and Michael.

It was another roommate interview; they seemed nice, both in med school or something so they wouldn’t be home much, they said. Their apartment was scarily clean for two guys, but Jack assured you that he was a self proclaimed clean freak and it was always like this. Michael just said not to go into his room and you would be fine, which you didn’t really want to think about further. 

They used to have a third roommate, they explained, but he wasn’t really taking to residency all that well and moved back home. Although the way Michael told the story seemed casual, the implication was glaring. You could read between the lines. They needed someone to take over his lease, and fast.

Considering the fact that the last two girls you met said your chakras were misaligned and that they could fix that if you paid them, coupled with the fact that you were about three days out from being homeless, you decided to take a chance on Jack and Michael. How bad could living with two guys be? 

That was months ago. Now?

You wish you paid those girls to realign your chakras and moved into their apartment. Sure, the boys’ apartment was nice. It wasn’t living with boys that was the issue. They were telling the truth; Jack really always kept it clean and the pair of them were always at the hospital, so they were barely around.

It’s when they were around that was the issue. 

Or, more specifically, when Jack was around. Robby, as he told you to call him a few weeks into you living there, was nice enough. He was polite and funny, humor just dry enough to be endearing. He always had a few girls coming in and out when he wasn’t working or knocked out from his shift, but that was neither here nor there for you.

Jack, on the other hand, was driving you up the wall. Your niceties had fizzled out in exactly two weeks, ending when you got into an argument about something so small, you can’t even remember it now. 

And that was that. After that fight, you were always butting heads whenever you were together, always about the dumbest things. It’s reached the point where you two can barely be in a room together without getting into it. You know Robby had been trying to mediate over the past few months, but to no avail. Nowadays, he just tries his best to not pull his hair out.

Like today.

“How many times have I asked you to stop slamming doors?” Jack snaps as you exit your room. He’s seated next to Robby at the bar, who’s tucking into his bowl of cereal and looking like he's praying that no one drags him into this conversation. They're both still in their pyjamas, Jack’s curls still mussed from sleep. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Jack,” You sigh, not even looking in his direction as you make your way into the kitchen on the opposite side of the bar. Pulling open the fridge, you ponder making a smoothie just to see if it’ll piss him off some more. “Glad to see a full night of rest hasn't removed the stick from your ass.”

You can see Robby white knuckling his spoon out of the corner of your eye, but he remains silent. Jack scoffs, using his fork to angrily gesture in the direction of your bedroom.

“Last I remembered, there was only one of us here not working twelve hour shifts at a hospital. I’d like a little sleep before I have to listen to you talk all day.” He looks to his right, presumably to have Robby to back him up, but he’s already left his bowl in the sink and is slinking away from the conversation.

“Tsk, tsk, Doctor Abbot. Someone needs to work on their bedside manner,” Shaking your head at him, you can tell that he’s already annoyed, face twisted up as your words. You decide, yeah, the blender probably will piss Jack off, and start pulling out some fruit. “Don’t they teach you that in medical school?”

“I’ve got one of the highest patient satisfaction ratings of the department,” He shoots back, a barely concealed brag. Not that it mattered that much to you, but he was clearly proud of the fact anyways. “I just save it for people that actually listen to the words that come out of my mouth. You-”

It seems comical, the timing, really. You toss the last of the fruit into the blender and switch it on, effectively cutting him off and punctuating his point. You watch his eyes furrow and you were totally right, the blender absolutely does piss him off. You mime something about not being able to hear him, sorry! and he rolls his eyes, conceding. Jack always did, if it was before eleven in the morning. Still too tired from his shift to get under your skin properly, you assumed. He grabs his plate and his coffee mug in a huff, heading into Robby’s room, no doubt to complain about you behind your back.

You shut the blender off once he leaves, the loud whirring slowing to a stop. You remember a time that you imagined yourself getting along with both of them, falling into your place at the apartment like their missing puzzle piece. But there was just something about Jack that just pushed all your buttons. He was just a pain in the ass.

A really handsome, really annoying, cherub-faced pain in the ass.

—

Robby likes to think of himself as a patient man.

The emergency room teaches you that. Taking a step back. Pausing, being objective. Being able to make the decisions that need to be made.

And right now, a decision definitely needed to be made. Robby was living in a psychological warzone.

He remembers when he and Jack were deliberating on who to choose to take over their spare room. It was between you and some guy who looked like he ate cigarettes for every meal; Robby can’t even remember his name now. Jack had said that they should pick you — even said you were cute.

This was one of the few instances in the time that he had known Jack that he had regretted listening to him.

“And she just-” Jack’s got his plate teetering on his knee, coffee mug still in his hand as he gestures angrily for no reason in particular. You’ve really worked him up this morning and now Robby is dealing with the consequences.

“Geez, man,” Robby can’t help but snap, cutting him off. Lately it’s been endless, Jack’s complaining. It feels like he starts and ends every day listening to Jack bitch and moan about their roommate, and it’s driving him up the wall. “You ever think about cooling it a little? Maybe extending an olive branch or something?”

“An olive branch? For what? I didn’t do anything.” His comment has clearly caught Jack off guard, eyes falling to his plate as he pushes the remaining remnants of his breakfast around. 

“It’s not about you doing something. It’s about you two getting along,” Robby explains with a sigh. He knows that Jack knows better than this, but there was just something about the situation that made him see red. Something about you. “A little peace around here would be nice, you know?”

“You should tell her that.” Jack gives up pretending to eat and sets his plate aside. Robby can feel the anxious energy radiating off of him; his leg shaking the bed, the angry tap, tap, tap of his nails against the ceramic of his coffee mug. He reaches out and places a hand on his thigh to steady him. The shaking stops instantly.

“You gotta figure this shit out,” Robby says, attempting to toe the line between stern and empathetic. He thinks it might just be coming off as tired, though. “Whatever issue you guys have, you guys need to solve that shit.”

Jack stiffens under his touch when the words leave his mouth and Robby kicks himself. For some reason, he keeps forgetting just how stubborn his best friend is.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Jack replies flatly. That kills the conversation and he collects his things and leaves Robby’s room, leaving him alone in some well needed silence.

Robby decides needs a new approach.

He tries his best to stick it out for the next few days, waiting until his next off day rolls around. Jack, on the other hand, is working that day which presents the perfect opportunity for Robby to appeal to your better nature instead.

He’s leaning on the counter, watching you put your groceries in the fridge. Over the time that you’ve been living together, you and Robby have learned to grow comfortable in the silence in the apartment. You’ll sit together on the couch, reading a book while he studies without saying a word. It’s grounding for him, like a familiar blanket. At least, that’s when Jack isn’t around.

Robby is finally pulled out of his thoughts when he notices you staring at him, hand on your hip. You’ve got an eyebrow raised, like you just asked him a question that he took far too long to reply to.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Robby shakes his head, trying to focus on you once more. “I was, uh, zoned out.”

“I just said you’ve been looking at me all weird,” You reply, hand dropping from your hip. You approach him slowly, laying a hand on his arm. You seemed concerned, which was sweet. He’s always wondered where the part of you that got Jack all riled up went when he wasn’t around. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” He says with a sigh, taking a step back out of your space. He takes a deep breath, wondering how exactly to explain this to you. He doesn’t want to misstep like he did with Jack; then he’d really be screwed. “It’s about you and Jack.”

“What about us?” Your curiosity is piqued but Robby can see that you’ve stiffened just at the mention of his name.

“Look, I get that you and Jack hate each other or whatever,” He runs a hand through his hair, deciding that the best course of action was to just be honest. Whatever happens after that is out of his hands. “But the arguing is driving me insane. Would you be able to maybe take it down a notch when I’m around? And when I’m not, you can kill him for all I care.”

“I think you would definitely care if I murdered Jack,” You say with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. You two stand in silence for a moment. Tense, not the comfortable kind that Robby is used to. He can see your eyes flicking around as you think, taking in his words. And then your posture softens. “But you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Oh great,” He heaves a sigh of relief, taking a seat at the bar. You watch him, the curious look in your eye replaced with something that might even resemble sympathy. “I asked Jack the same thing and he nearly bit my head off.”

“You thought I would react worse than Jack?” You look at him sadly, hand splayed over your heart in mock hurt. “I’m wounded, Michael.”

He rolls his eyes and you’re back in the kitchen, bent over and rustling through the fridge. He watches you gather ingredients, pushing around and looking for the things that you need. He taps his finger on the counter, suspicious. 

“Is that really it?” He asks and you turn around, arms full. You shrug as you start placing things on the counter, gesturing for Robby to help you with a nod of your head. He quickly stands up, setting down whatever remained.

“I could make more of a scene, if you like,” You pull out the cutting board and knife from below the counter, shooting him a look from the corner of your eye. “But I thought I’d make you an ‘I’m-sorry-I-get-into-fights-with-your-best-friend’ dinner instead.”

Robby lights up at that. He and Jack always cook for themselves, but your food always looks a million times better than theirs. Probably because once they get home from their shifts they only have the energy to make boxed mac and cheese before falling asleep on the couch, bowls still in their laps. 

So yes, Robby will jump at the chance to eat some food that doesn’t come out of a box and doesn’t involve any powdered cheese.

You’re standing side by side when Jack walks in; Robby is chopping vegetables and you’re throwing everything together in a pot. Your shoulders are brushing —the kitchen you share is too small not to, especially at Robby’s size.

Robby glances up from the cutting board, ready to greet Jack, when he sees the look on his face. It’s twisted up in something… something Robby can’t really place. He’s frowning, eyes scanning the scene in front of him. Before he can open his mouth to say hello, Jack stomps off to his room, hand clutching the strap of his go-bag tightly. The door slams behind him and Robby finally looks in your direction. You’re looking equally as confused as he feels.

“What the hell is up with him?” You ask, going back to what you were doing before Jack’s abrupt arrival. He guesses that you were used to this kind of behaviour; Jack being all prickly towards you. Robby however, was not. He sneaks another glance at Jack’s closed door, brows furrowed.

“Bad shift, maybe?” He tries to supply. You just shrug in response.

He knows that it’s something else.

—

After that dinner the fighting only gets worse.

You’ve been making Robby a lot of I’m sorry dinners, which is a plus. But the hostile living situation is definitely a negative. 

He knows you’ve been trying to keep it down but it seems like you can’t even enter a room without Jack getting irritated with you these days. He’s tried to talk to him about it a grand total of once, and Jack snarls at him to ‘just leave it’ in a tone he’s never heard before, so he has.

But it’s driving Robby insane. He wants to eat a meal, sit on the couch, and study in peace. It’s reaching the point where he’s wondering if he’s going to have to physically separate you. The fights have been escalating; you two have been crowding each other’s space, all gnashing teeth and pointed jabs to the chest. 

Right now he’s laying in bed, listening to you two argue through the wall. He doesn’t even know what it’s about. In fact, he never really knows what they’re about. They always start off about something insignificant and then escalate into the grudges that you two are holding against each other. It seems like the fights never end, one of you always storming out before you ever come to a resolution.

Robby is sure that you could probably talk out your differences if you bothered to actually have a conversation about it without one of you stomping away. In fact, he’d put money on it.

He listens to a few more shouts and a particularly loud door slam and something in him finally breaks. 

He decides to put his money where his mouth is.

—

You’re enjoying a rare moment to yourself, curled up on the couch under a blanket with a book in hand when Robby’s voice rings through the living room. 

“The sink in the bathroom is doing that weird thing again.”

Motherfucker.

You tilt your head back with a groan, slamming your book shut. The sink in the bathroom had been crapping out on you guys for as long as you remember and for some reason, you were the only person who could jiggle the handle just right to get it working again.

“Can’t a girl get a moment to herself here?” You sigh, pulling off the blanket dramatically. Robby just shrugs, eyeing you as you put your book down. There’s something in his gaze you can’t place, a bit distant. It’s easy to assume it’s all the fighting with Jack. 

You promised to try to be nicer to him, but he just keeps goading you into petty arguments. It’s not hard to tell that it’s driving a wedge between the three of you. Tensions have been high in the apartment lately and you’ve noticed that Robby has elected to spend more time away, presumably with one of his many girlfriends.

Robby turns around wordlessly, not even checking to see if you’re following. It unnerves you a bit; he’s usually always down to rib with you and he never ignores you. Worrying your lip, you drop the nonchalant act and trail behind him in the direction of your bathroom. He pauses at the doorframe, waiting for you to catch up.

You approach him, wanting to ask if everything is okay, when he grabs you by the arm. It’s not rough and you wouldn’t expect it to be; Robby would never hurt you. However, his grip and the element of surprise are enough to allow him to haul you into the bathroom. You barely get a word out before the door shuts behind you.

You blink in shock, taking a moment to realize what exactly is happening to you.

Jack is standing in front of you, the same look of shock mirrored on his face. The sight of him has you whirling on your heels, grabbing the door handle. It doesn’t give —something is jamming the handle, effectively locking you in the bathroom. The bathroom you share, that’s about the size of a closet. Locked in with the guy that makes your blood boil.

For more reason than one.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” You hear Jack’s gruff voice from behind you but you deign to ignore it, choosing to bang against the door instead.

“Robby!” You shout, still rapping your fist against the door. You know that he can hear you; the walls and doors in this place are paper thin. Jack’s gaze is hot on your back and you can imagine his arms are crossed, ready to see what you’ll do next. “Let us out!”

“No,” You can hear his voice loud and clear through the wood. He must be standing right in front of the door on the other side, staring at the chipped white paint. His voice is serious, flat in a way you’ve never heard before. “You guys aren’t coming out until you’re best friends. I can’t deal with the bickering anymore. Either figure it out, or enjoy living in the bathroom together. Forever.”

Then you hear his footsteps, the sound of them peetering away. Which means you really are stuck in here for the time being.

You turn to face Jack with a deep sigh. You were right; his arms are crossed over his chest, looking as cool and collected as he always does before he starts pushing all your buttons. You two just look at each other for a moment, soaking everything in. He breaks the silence first. “How did he lure you in here?”

“He told me the sink was broken again.” You mutter, shifting uncomfortably in place and leaning your back against the door. The two of you stand at opposite ends of the bathroom, but the distance doesn’t feel nearly far enough.

You know that Robby is right. The two of you are constantly at each other’s throats for no reason. You run a hand over your face, annoyed that you’ve found yourself in a situation as dumb as this. As tragic as it is, you realize that this is probably the longest the two of you have gone without arguing in a long time.

“Robby is right. We need to stop.” Jack says, as if he can read your mind. You scoff at that, rolling your eyes. That’s rich coming from him. He’s the one constantly provoking you, pushing you until you’re the one who’s fuming when he walks into the room.

“You’re one to talk,” You reply, deciding to confront him. It’s what Robby wanted, right? For you to talk it out? You weren’t sure it would lead anywhere but it didn’t really seem like your third roommate was letting you out anytime soon. “Robby told me that he already asked you to stop and you chewed him out for it.”

“I did not chew him out,” Jack denies, shaking his head in disbelief. You can already feel anger bubbling up just from his dismissive tone. “You and Robby are best friends now, huh?”

“Yeah, that's kind of what happens when your third roommate is a gigantic asshole.” You spit back. So much for not arguing. It's getting hard to keep your annoyance under wraps, especially with the wounds of your last million fights still raw.

“Oh, please. I was his friend first, way before you came along,” Jack takes a step forward like he wants to pace but quickly realizes he doesn't have enough room without getting closer to you and pauses. He opts for rocking back on his heels instead. “It’s your fault we’re even in this situation in the first place.”

“My fault? Are you listening to yourself?” You laugh incredulously, dropping all pretenses that this could even be a normal conversation anymore. “You sound like a child. I’ve tried my best to be nice to you! How is this my fault?”

“Yeah, it’s your fucking fault!” This time he’s brave enough to take a step forward, probably more out of frustration than anything else. “You call that being nice? Getting into fights with me? Getting all friendly with Robby?”

“Is this what this is about?” You’ve caught him in a weird spot and he knows it, running a hand through his auburn curls. His brow furrows but you cut him off before he can shoot back a response. “Robby? Is that why you’ve been acting extra annoying since that night you saw us making dinner a few weeks ago?”

“It's not about him,” He grunts, jaw tensing. You can see that he’s holding back whatever he wants to say by his taut shoulders as he speaks. “It's about you.”

“About me? I don't understand what your problem with me is, or why you think this is my fault-”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up?” Jack cuts you off, and the room goes dead silent. You two are close now, like both of you were taking subconscious steps towards each other as you fought. It was always like that —when you had these fights it always ended up with you crowding each other's spaces. This time was no exception. 

But the size of the bathroom makes it feel different. You can almost feel his breath from the quick rise and fall of his chest, pulse racing from the argument. Your breath matches his, coming out in short huffs. You’ve got each other all riled up and you can see something flash in his eyes.

Then it clicks.

“You want to fuck me, don't you?” You can see from his reaction that you’ve got it right on the nose. He takes a step back, the bluntness of your statement pulling him out of the stupor of anger he was in.

“What?” He recoils like the thought of it is physically repulsive. You try not to take too much offense from that, especially because you know that it’s all for show. The heat of the tension between you two has shattered and you give a smug smirk, teeth almost bared.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” You’re taunting him now, but after everything that he put you through it only seems fair. You can’t help but laugh out loud as you continue. “Little Jackie’s got a crush on me? That’s why he’s pushing me on the playground?” 

“Don’t call me that.” The timbre of his voice is low, egging you along. “You wish. I hate you.”

“Oh, yeah? How much?” You press. Jack’s gained more confidence and he’s back in your space. Even though you’re holding the cards, taunting him with a crush, you still feel like prey. He’s circling you like a shark without even moving. His eyes are on you as he backs you up against the door.

He still hasn’t answered your empty threat. You can feel his body heat even through your clothes and it makes your breath catch. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack, and you see a whisper of a smile on his lips. Any proverbial cards you had in your hands just moments before have fluttered to the ground. Jack has caught you and you both notice, and the idea of that has Jack looking at you like the cat who got the cream.

You’re fully pressed against the door now, almost forehead to forehead. His hands hover between the two of you, like he’s unsure of if he’s actually allowed to touch you or not. You finally grow the courage to look up at him and meet his eyes, your noses brushing as you do. He takes that as permission and moves his hands towards you, resting loose at your waist.

It’s hard to breathe, much less think. You can smell Jack’s body wash from this distance and it has your brain short circuiting. He’s close enough to see every reaction and he drags a hand up your side slowly, fingertips skimming. 

It travels up the expanse of your body and pauses at your neck, his fingers tightening for a moment. His grip isn’t firm but it’s enough to make your eyes flutter. Jack rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest and his hand continues it’s journey upwards, thumb settling on your bottom lip. He swipes across it slowly and it makes your heart stutter.

Fuck it.

Your mouth parts slowly and you take his digit into your mouth, lips closing around it. Jack presses even closer to you, chest to chest. His eyes have been locked on yours the entire time and they stay that way, even as his other hand moves to slip into your sleep shorts.

He’s got his hand cupped over your panties but you know he can feel how wet you are, even through the fabric. He finally lets the smirk take over his face, pressing his thumb into your mouth further. His fingers trail across the dampness of your underwear, sickly slow.

“This all for me?” He asks, cocky, and it’s pretty annoying when the shoe is on the other foot. “You get wet when I tell you I hate you? When we fight?”

His fingers are still moving slowly, making your mind foggy. Or maybe that’s just your excuse for when you look up at him dumbly, nodding. He seems satisfied with that answer, dipping in past the lacy waistband of your panties. His breath hitches when gets a finger between your folds and feels that you’re absolutely dripping in anticipation. You’ve got half a mind to tease him about it, but he pushes a finger in and the thought suddenly vanishes from your mind. 

The finger on your lips moves down again, landing on your throat once more. He’s only a knuckle deep when he pauses, cocking his head. The hand around your neck gives a small squeeze, and your pussy flutters around nothing at the sensation. You let out a small moan, heat rushing up to your face in both arousal and embarrassment. “Think I didn’t notice, huh? How much you liked it?” 

Before you can answer he slides in the rest of the way, leaving you speechless. The pace he sets is slow and deep, making your knees buckle. You’re gripping onto his annoyingly thick arms and his breath is ghosting your face. You can tell he’s holding back, eyes flickering from your lips to the hand down your shorts.

You don’t wait for him to make up his mind. Surging upwards, you catch his lips in yours, pulling him close by his shirt. The moment breaks the dam —all the months of pent up frustration and fights seared into a bruising kiss. He wastes no time, licking desperately into your mouth as he works you open with his hand. You’re mewling, sliding your lips against his as you whimper, slick with spit.

He’s got his leg slotted between your thighs and you can feel how hard he is, even through the layer of his denim jeans. He groans quietly under his breath, grinding against you as he fucks you with his fingers. The noise is obscene —you’re so wet that the sound of it reverberates through the bathroom every time his digits enter you.

It’s embarrassing, really, the way that you’re basically riding his fingers. Your hips are chasing the sensation and he gives another groan at the sight. He’s still got his hand wrapped around your throat and his brow is furrowed with pleasure, obsessed with the way he has you just falling apart for him.

The look on his face is getting you close, like he’s pissed that he gave into you but he wants to take you apart so damn bad he just can’t resist. He tightens his grip and hits that spot inside you just right and you can’t help the strangled whine that leaves your mouth as you tighten around him, cumming on his hand way too loudly for you two to keep what you’re doing a secret.

He’a got his hand out of your shorts now and he’s moved them both to pull your tank top down, exposing your chest. His breathing picks up and runs his hands up your body, rough skin on your sensitive nipples as he grabs at you, rough. Jack leans in for another bruising kiss, but you only get a short moment to savour it before he's got you by the hair, twisting you around and bending you over the counter.

The force of it has everything on the counter rattle, the tall bottle of lotion you keep in the bathroom toppling over. You recover and stumble to push yourself to your elbows, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look absolutely fucked out, hair disheveled, lips pink and swollen, looking at yourself all glassy eyed. Then your eyes flick back to take a look at Jack, who’s rutting his bulge into the clothed heat of your cunt.

The sight almost makes you cum again on the spot. His lids are hooded, mouth hanging half open in pleasure as he moves against you. He’s still got a hand woven into your hair and his eyes flutter open in a way you can only describe as pretty as he takes in your state through the mirror. His grip disappears and he pulls off his shirt, the piece of clothing landing on the ridge of the bathtub behind you as he tosses it. You can’t even get out a quip before he’s yanking your shorts down, taking your panties down with them.

Even though he just had his fingers in you moments ago, you still feel embarrassed with how exposed you are for him. If he notices the way you get shy, he doesn’t comment, hands drifting to undo his belt buckle instead. You mewl as he steps out of his jeans, hard cock slapping against his stomach. You’re almost drooling to get your mouth around it and he laughs at the look on your face.

“Yeah? Are you sure you’re not the one that wants to fuck me? ‘Cause it seems like you’re a minute away from begging for it.” He pumps his length loosely with one hand, lips curled into a smirk as his fingertips of the other skid up the side of your thigh. The touch has your pussy fluttering, and you’re hoping that he can’t see the way your legs are shaking. You can see the glimmer of precome gathered at his tip and you lick your lips.

“Fuck you.” You say through gritted teeth, although it comes off much less intimidating as you would like since you’re bent over and at his mercy. He lets out another laugh at your expense, not bothering to say anything else while he lines himself up at your entrance. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” You’re already slick from his fingers, so he pushes in rough and fast, both of you groaning as he sheathes himself fully inside of you. It pushes you to your toes, punching a breath from your chest. You can tell that this is going to be quick and dirty, and you brace your hands on the counter in anticipation. 

You were right. He pulls out slowly and you shiver at the sensation, then he slams back into you so hard that you can’t help but yelp. You spare a glance up at his face and you can tell that he fucking loved that, so he keeps that pace, rough and slow.

“Fuck, Jack…” You sound strung out as you moan his name, hips bucking as you try to get him to speed up, go deeper, anything. You’ve already come to terms with the fact that you’ve definitely lost this argument but then one of his big hands presses into your back, pressing you against the counter and you can’t really bring yourself to care. The other grips your shoulder and it’s like he can read your mind.

Jack starts fucking into you without abandon, chasing his high. It’s rough and the slap of skin on skin bounces off the tile, which only serves to make you even more wet. You’re pretty sure you’re just mumbling nonsense now, too focused on how deep Jack is inside of you to put together a coherent sentence. Jack’s getting loud too, the hand on your back snaking down to grab at your hip, pulling you back into him as he thrusts.

“Would’ve done this a lot earlier if I knew how easily I could shut you up.” He manages to get out, in between low groans and short breaths. You want to defend yourself, you really do, but he pulls you back on him and plunges in particularly deep, making your eyes cross, and your voice dies in your throat. Jack’s fucking you brainless, that much you can’t deny. You’re whining as the heat in your stomach spreads, cunt tightening as Jack fucks into you even rougher.

You know he feels it when he lets out a strangled noise that sounds suspiciously close to your name, hips stuttering. Then you feel a tight yank on your scalp, forcing your head upwards. You can barely keep still as Jack continues to move, head bobbing even with his grip on your hair. 

“Look at me.” He says, gruff and deep, and you clench around him at the sound. It takes way too much effort to open your eyes, motions slow like molasses. You clearly take far too long for Jack’s liking, pulling harder on your hair as he repeats himself. Finally, your eyes flutter open, and you’re so close to the mirror that your breath fogs the glass. Your mouth is wide open in a silent moan, eyes almost crossed. Another rough tug reminds you what he asked for, and you drag your gaze up to meet Jack’s.

His hazel eyes are dark with lust, hair stamped to his forehead in sweat. A smirk spreads across his face when he notices that you’ve obeyed, finally looking at him. The way he has your hair in an iron grip has your back arching and his cock is hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. You can tell that he’s approaching his high just as fast as you are; his thrusts are growing sloppy and you almost can’t hear your small mewls over all the noise he’s making.

“Look at me when you cum.” He growls as he notices your eyes drifting as your orgasm approaches. It’s not a question. It’s a demand. Your eyes snap back to his and he’s already looking at you, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure. Locking eyes, he slides a hand in between your legs to work your clit, already slick from just how turned on you are by the whole ordeal. He’s rubbing tight circles around it and everything comes crashing down.

You cum so hard around his cock that you can’t even tell if you kept the eye contact he asked for, your vision going white. You’re also pretty sure your knees give out, but Jack keeps you steady with a hand around your waist as he keeps his pace going. You whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm, nerves alight, when he pulls out with a loud groan. He gives a few rough pumps, made easy with your cum practically dripping off of his dick, and you have the pleasure of watching him come undone, coating your ass with ropes of cum.

Jack braces his hand on the counter, knuckles tightening with one last shudder of his body. You two stay that way for a moment, catching your breath. The silence is deafening as you try to think through the synchronised pants that you two share. You’re not sure how many minutes pass until he straightens up, grabbing a towel hanging off the back of the door. He begins to clean you off, gentle in a way that you didn’t expect from him, and you decide that this probably isn’t the best time to tell him that he’s using Robby’s towel.

Once he’s done, he tosses it into the laundry bin in the corner and pulls up his briefs and jeans. You turn around as he approaches you once more, worrying your lip. You’re trying to think of something to say when Jack bends down, pulling your shorts and panties back up to your waist. He fiddles with the waistband of your shorts for a second before moving onto your tank, tugging the straps back up your shoulders and covering your chest once more.

You two are close again, but this time it lacks any of the anger and heat that it did before. Jack’s still got a finger tangled in your tank top strap, leaning closer into your space, noses brushing once more. You think he opens his mouth to say something, but the door swings open and interrupts him before he can start.

Frank and you are what other people around you would describe as a velcro couple.

Which is fair.

You’re pretty sure there hasn’t been a single day in your relationship where one of you wasn’t touching the other somehow. Frank’s hand at the small of your back while you brush your teeth. Fingers linked in grocery store aisles. Kisses stolen in hallways. Sleepy morning quickies and rough goodnight fucks because the man is insatiable and you are constantly aroused whenever his hands reach anywhere near your waist- which is constantly.

You live off him.

His touch.

His attention.

The weight of his eyes on you from across a room.

And Frank? Frank is somehow worse.

The man acts like prolonged physical separation causes him actual psychological damage. If you walk past him, he reaches for you automatically. If you’re standing nearby, eventually you end up tucked against his chest whether you remember moving there or not. Half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore.

Which means, honestly, the two of you are unbearable in public. Not in an obnoxious way. Just in a deeply obvious one.

The kind of couple that naturally gravitates toward each other in every room without even thinking about it. Frank standing behind you while you make coffee, chin on your shoulder, massive arms wrapped around your waist like he physically cannot start his morning unless you’re pressed against him. You absentmindedly stealing bites off his plate while he pretends to be annoyed despite immediately sliding the entire thing closer to you. Nobody has ever seen Frank Castle willingly share food before you.Now he hands you the last fry without even looking up.

Humiliating behavior, honestly.

And the touching never stops. If you’re sitting beside him, eventually his hand ends up on your thigh. If Frank’s sitting down anywhere for longer than five minutes, he’s tugging you into his lap automatically, barely interrupting the conversation while doing it. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world for a six-foot-three wall of muscle to casually manhandle his girlfriend into his lap in the middle of game night at Karen’s apartment.

“You know chairs exist, right?” Curtis asked once. Frank didn’t even look up from where his chin rested against your shoulder.

“Mhm.” That was the entire response. Meanwhile you were curled against his chest looking unbearably pleased with yourself.

It gets worse at home. Way worse.

Because the second the apartment door closes behind you two, personal space completely ceases to exist. You’re draped across him on the couch within minutes. Frank’s fingers hooked lazily beneath your shirt while he watches TV, absentmindedly tracing shapes against your stomach. Your legs tangled together under blankets. Slow kisses traded between conversations. Foreheads pressed together while brushing your teeth because apparently standing separately in the bathroom is unacceptable now.

And sleeping?

Forget it.

Frank sleeps like he’s trying to fuse your skeletons together. One arm around your waist. One leg thrown over yours. Face buried against your neck. If you move too far away in your sleep, he unconsciously follows until you’re tucked back against him again. Sometimes you wake up at three in the morning practically pinned beneath two hundred pounds of warm, snoring ex-marine.

And somehow you still sleep better like that. Frank claims he does too.

But you’re just as bad. Maybe even worse.

You are constantly reaching for him, hands slipping up his shirt to trace the outline of his muscles, hands drifting towards his pant buckle the second there's the semblance of privacy. You are a freak for this man. Everything he does turns you on.

Hands sliding up his chest while you compliment him. Kissing the corner of his mouth just to watch his expression change. Whispering filthy things into his ear while he’s trying to focus in public because you enjoy watching the exact moment his composure starts cracking.

Frank always starts out pretending he’s stronger than this. But the truth is Frank folds almost immediately when it comes to you. The second you start kissing his neck slowly or climbing into his lap with that look in your eyes, the man is done for.

Gone.

Especially when you get clingy about it. That’s what really destroys him. The way you seek him out first. Like you can’t help yourself. Like your body naturally gravitates toward his whenever you want attention or affection or him specifically. Which is often.

Very often.

So who can blame you when he walks out of the bathroom, smelling like cologne and wearing that tight suit of his ?

You look up from the vanity, pressing your earring clasp closed just as the door thuds behind him.

It’s unfair, honestly.

Frank always cleans up well, but suits on that man should probably qualify as psychological warfare. The dark fabric stretches tight across his shoulders, sharp enough to make him look even broader somehow, and the white dress shirt beneath it is rolled just enough at the forearms to expose strong tan skin and thick veins running down to his hands.

His hands.

Which already ruin your life on a daily basis.

And then there’s the smell.

Warm cologne layered over soap and Frank himself - clean but still distinctly him underneath it all. Your stomach flips instantly.

Frank notices immediately.

Of course he does.

His eyes flick toward you while he adjusts the cuff of his sleeve, and there’s a tiny pause when he catches the look on your face.

“…What?” he asks slowly. You stare at him for another full second. Then your eyes drag deliberately down his body. Back up again. Frank exhales once through his nose, already recognizing that expression.

“No,” he says immediately, pointing at you before you can even speak. “Absolutely not.” You blink innocently.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He’s trying to sound firm about it, but there’s already amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. Which means you’ve already won, really. Your gaze drops again while he reaches for his watch on the dresser. Big mistake. The movement pulls the fabric tight across his back and shoulders, and your entire brain melts straight out of your ears. And god- you can see the firm outline of his dick pressing through those tight dress pants, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from dropping to your knees in front of him right then and there and wrapping your lips around him just to suck him dry- for what would be the third time today.

Jesus Christ.

You stand slowly from the vanity stool and walk toward him without breaking eye contact. Frank watches you approach with immediate suspicion.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“We gotta leave in twenty minutes.”

“I know.”

“You’re lookin’ at me weird.”

“I’m looking at you respectfully.”

“Bullshit.” You smile sweetly as your hands slide up his chest, smoothing over the front of his dress shirt. Even through the fabric you can feel the solid warmth of him beneath it, broad and steady and distractingly strong. Frank’s jaw tightens a little. “There it is,” he mutters.

“What?”

“That look.”

“What look?”

“The one that gets us banned from being on time to things.” You laugh softly, stepping closer until your bodies press together. Frank’s hands land automatically on your waist like muscle memory. Always there. Always touching you somewhere. Your fingers drift up to straighten his tie unnecessarily slowly.

“You look really pretty tonight,” you murmur. Frank snorts quietly.

“Pretty?”

“Mhm.” Your nails scrape lightly along the back of his neck. “Very pretty.” His eyes darken immediately.

“Careful.”

“You smell good too.”

“Baby.”

“And this suit?” Your voice drops softer. “Actually evil of you.” Frank’s grip tightens slightly at your waist.

“You’re startin’ shit.”

“Am I?” You tilt your head innocently before leaning up just enough to press a slow kiss beneath his jaw. The reaction is immediate. A rough inhale. His fingers flex against your hips.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath. You hide your smile against his neck and kiss him again. Slower this time. Lingering just enough to feel the exact moment his composure starts slipping. Which is your favorite part. Frank tries so hard at first. That’s what makes this fun. Because he always starts out acting like he has self-control. Like he’s capable of resisting you when you decide you want his attention.

Meanwhile you know exactly how easy he is for you.

One kiss to his neck and the man starts looking at you like he’s fighting for his life. Your hands slide beneath his suit jacket, palms flattening against his chest. Solid muscle shifts beneath your touch, warm and familiar and addictive enough that you honestly don’t know how you’re expected to function around him daily.

“You know,” you murmur thoughtfully, “we could skip the event.” Frank lets out a low laugh.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” You pout slightly against his throat.

“But I’m a lawyer. I can make excuses professionally.”

“You are not seducing me outta your work thing.” You lean back just enough to look up at him.

“Feels like I am, though.” Frank visibly clenches his jaw. He shakes his head and pushes you away from him firmly.

"Baby, this is the first time i'm meeting your colleagues." You snort, smoothing your hands on the silky red fabric near your waist that has now been ruffled by Frank's bruising grip.

"No , it's not. You know Matt and Foggy already." You tease, turning around to lean over the vanity and check your lip liner. Frank scowls.

"Alright then. First time meeting them as a normal human and not someone that needs to stand trial for murder." he taps his foot on the floor. "What i mean to say is- these people are your friends. I want to make a good impression."

"Of course you will, Frankie. How could you not ?" Frank sighs, shoving his hands down his pant pockets, which does nothing to relieve the stretch around his groin, making your eyes drift down naturally, and your thighs clench.

"Well, for instance, they won't like me much if you're not behaving."

You freeze.

Frank immediately regrets the wording. He sees it happen in real time - your shoulders going still, your head tilting ever so slightly as your eyes lift to meet his in the mirror.

“…Excuse me?” you ask slowly. Frank pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” You turn around fully now, leaning back against the vanity with your arms folded across your chest. The silky red dress hugs your body distractingly tight, and Frank has to actively force his eyes back to your face. “Behave?” Frank sighs.

"Just for one night, baby. One night. Hell, not ever the whole night- just the few hours of the event."

You stare at him for a long moment.

Then slowly - very slowly - you narrow your eyes.

“Frank Castle,” you say with dangerous calm, “are you asking me to stop expressing my love for my own boyfriend?”

“I’m asking you to stop trying to climb me in public.”

“That feels oppressive.”

“That feels accurate.” You scoff dramatically, pushing off the vanity.

“One night?” you repeat softly.Frank nods cautiously.

“One night.”

“No flirting?”

“Within reason.”

“No touching?”

“You can touch me.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Normal touching.” You blink at him.

“Frank, define normal.” His jaw tightens instantly because he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“Baby.”

“Is thigh touching normal?”

“No.”

“Chest touching?”

“You already do that too much.”

“Kissing?”

“Not every five seconds.” Your expression turns genuinely offended.

“Frank.”

“What?”

“That is our culture.” A laugh escapes him before he can stop it. Low and rough and fond despite himself. You immediately perk up at the sound. Frank drinks you in - and god, a part of him is scolding himself for not taking you up on your offer to just stay home. That fucking dress on you is- well, it's doing things to him. The silky red fabric hugs every inch of you like it was designed specifically to ruin him. Tight around your waist. Dipping low enough at your chest that his eyes keep dragging there against his will. The slit along your leg flashes skin every time you move, and Frank is pretty sure he hasn’t had a coherent thought since walking out of the bathroom.

For a second neither of you moves. Then Frank sighs heavily, like he’s preparing himself for battle.

“Alright,” he mutters. “Rules.” You gasp softly.

“Rules?”

“Yes.”

“This is getting kinky.”

“Jesus Christ.” He drags a hand down his face while you beam at him. “No whisperin’ filthy shit in my ear in front of your coworkers.” You pout immediately. “No sittin’ in my lap during dinner.”

“That feels targeted.”

“No disappearin’ into bathrooms together.” You look horrified now.

“Frank.”

“And no givin’ me that look across the room all night.” You blink innocently.

“What look?”

“The one that makes me forget my own name.” A pause. Then your entire expression melts into delighted satisfaction. Frank groans quietly the second he sees it. Frank points at you instantly. “See? That face right there. That’s exactly why we need rules.”

-------

Unfortunately for Frank, his rules forgot to include dirty texts.

The venue is jam-packed. You have no idea how Matt and Foggy managed to fill up this venue, but they did. However, you lost Frank about ten minutes in. Matt dragged him off to talk about "life" which is obviously a stupid code word for whatever vigliante shit is going on in Hell's Kitchen.

And you are incredibly bored.

You watch the ice swirl around your cup, the little umbrella perched inside the fruity drink Foggy pushed your way now laying limp and damp. Across the room, Frank stands with Matt and Foggy, looking deeply uncomfortable despite the glass of whiskey in his hand. His suit jacket stretches distractingly across his shoulders as he listens to whatever Matt is saying, expression unreadable but clearly not enjoying himself. it does make your heart clench though. Because hes' trying - for you.

He knows how much you love Matt and Foggy. You grew up with Matt- and obviously met Foggy when Matt started bringing him around during his uni days.

Frank’s trying.

He really is.

Because this matters to you. These are your people. Your friends. Your world. And he wants them to like him. Which means he keeps trying to focus on Matt talking about neighborhood cases and Foggy complaining about paperwork and Karen laughing somewhere nearby.

Frank keeps glancing toward you between conversations. Not constantly. He's trying very hard not to. Which honestly makes it worse. Because every few minutes his eyes flick across the room automatically like he needs visual confirmation you’re still there, and every single time he looks at you, you catch him staring. The first few times, he recovers quickly.

Looks away. Takes a sip of whiskey. Pretends Matt wasn’t mid-sentence when Frank completely stopped listening.

But god, the sight of you in that fucking dress, sipping on your drink, talking to one of your old clients, it breaks him down into pieces.

He tells himself to stop looking. He doesn’t. The third time he catches your smile from across the room, it’s over. Matt is still talking - something about procedure, or patrol routes, or whatever legal-adjacent thing he thinks Frank is supposed to care about - but Frank is already gone mentally. His grip tightens slightly around his glass.

And you're not doing any better. It's like you've been physically restrained- only a great amount of distance will make you keep your hands to yourself. And it's taking every inch of your will to stay rooted in place. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs a little tighter under the table. It doesn’t help. Not even slightly. Because Frank looks unfairly good like this. Suit jacket open now, sleeves pushed just a bit higher like he’s forgotten they’re supposed to stay neat. The whiskey glass in his hand does nothing to soften him - if anything it makes him worse. Too controlled. Too grounded. Like he belongs exactly where he is and not, objectively, across the room from you. Matt says something and Frank smiles and answers lively. Foggy laughs at something and Frank reacts, grinning as he takes a sip of his drink.

Without thinking, you pull your phone out of your purse.

YOU i'm wet just looking at you

You watch as Frank's hand instinctively goes to his pocket when his phone buzzes. He pulls it out, glances down, and immediately stills. Even from across the room, you can see the slight tension that settles in his shoulders. He stares at his phone before putting the phone back down, clearing his throat. You smirk, taking a slow sip of your drink before typing back.

YOU i need you inside me. like so fucking bad, frankie.

Frank's eyes lift from his phone, scanning the room until they land on you. The look he gives you is part warning, part something darker that makes your stomach clench. You bite your lip, enjoying this far too much.

YOU Remember this morning? When you had me bent over the kitchen counter?

You watch his throat work as he swallows. He shifts his weight slightly, and you know you're getting to him. Frank types something, then deletes it. Then types again. Deletes it again. He's half in the conversation with the others, half staring at his phone as if someone just texted him with extremely important news. So, just to add more fuel to the fire -

YOU [six attatchements]

The first image appears - it's you from a few weeks ago, sprawled across your bed in that black lace set he loves. The one he said made you look like something out of his dirtiest dreams. Frank's jaw tightens as he swipes to the next one. This time, you're on your knees, hands pressed to the bed in front of you, your breasts pushed up in the lace, and Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, as if remembering what the material felt like against his lips as he ripped it off. Matt notices Frank's distraction mid-sentence.

"Frank? You with me?" Frank clears his throat, locking his phone without responding to your texts. He slams his phone down, hands shaking, trying to hide the heat rising up to his cheeks. He clears his throat, one too many times, before grabbing his cup and downing all of it, breathing hard. You turn away from him, sipping on your drink, trying to not look too satisfied with yourself as you send him another final text.

YOU I want to go home right now and I want you to eat me out

God, if they were anywhere else, Frank would've dropped everything and dragged you home. One thing Frank loved more than you in this life ? Spending hours- and I mean hours- between your legs, holding your thighs apart, devouring you like a man who hasn't had access to fresh water in weeks of travelling in the dessert.

But here? Now? With Murdock and Nelson watching?

Frank's face is a study in self-control. A muscle jumps in his jaw. He picks up his empty glass, stares at it like it's personally offended him, and then sets it down with a click that's just a little too loud. He's trying to listen. He really is. Matt is saying something about… zoning laws? Frank nods along, but his eyes have that glazed-over look of a man running on pure instinct and pure spite. You can practically hear the thoughts screaming through his head.

Don't look over. Don't you fucking dare. You're doing this on purpose. You knows exactly what you're doing. Think about you moaning his name baseball. Think about the way you take all of him so well … dead puppies. Think about anything other than your thighs wrapped around his head.

It's a losing battle. His gaze betrays him, flicking across the room to you for the hundredth time. You catch it, of course. You always do. And you reward him by slowly, deliberately, crossing your legs. The silk of your dress whispers against your skin, and you see his throat work as he swallows hard. He looks away, but the damage is done. You've got him. Matt, bless his oblivious heart, is still talking.

"—so the precedent is tricky, Frank. If we can establish a pattern of negligence on the part of the landlord, we might have a case, but it's going to require a lot of footwork." Frank makes a noncommittal sound, a low grunt that could mean anything. His hand is clenched into a fist on the bar. Foggy, thankfully, seems to have picked up on the tension, or maybe he's just excited about the mini egg rolls coming around on a tray. He engages Matt in a side conversation about the merits of tempura versus fried, giving Frank a precious moment of reprieve. Frank doesn’t even realize he’s made a decision until he’s already acting on it. It starts small - subtle. A shift in posture. A slow exhale through his nose like he’s thinking too hard about something that absolutely does not require thinking. Matt is still mid-sentence, Foggy is laughing at something off to the side, and Frank is nodding at all the right moments while clearly hearing none of it.

Then his phone buzzes again in his pocket. He doesn’t look at it this time.

That’s new. Instead, he sets his empty glass down with controlled precision and clears his throat once. Twice. Like he’s trying to reset his entire brain.

“Everything alright?” Matt asks, head tilting slightly. Frank doesn’t answer immediately. Because across the room, you shift again - just slightly - and it looks like an accident to everyone else. But Frank knows better. He drags a hand over his mouth, eyes narrowing faintly as if he’s just remembered something genuinely urgent. Something catastrophic. Something that absolutely requires him to leave this building right now or the world will collapse.

“…Yeah,” he says finally. Foggy pauses mid-bite of something fried.

“That sounded like a lie.” Frank ignores him. Already reaching for his jacket.

“I gotta go.” Matt blinks.

“Go?”

“Yeah.”

“Frank, we’re kind of in the middle of—”

“I just remembered that i left the oven on.” Silence. Even Foggy stops chewing. Matt slowly tilts his head.

“Your… oven.”

“Is on,” Frank repeats, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah.” You, across the room, straighten so fast your drink nearly tips. Foggy frowns.

"You started cooking before you came to an event ?" Foggy asks. Frank rambles, shaking his head, swaying on his feet.

"Yes, I did." He clears his throat. "Excuse me." Matt opens his mouth, then closes it again. Because even he can tell something about this is wrong, but he’s not entirely sure what. Frank is already moving. He doesn’t run. Frank Castle does not run out of social situations. He simply exits them aggressively with purpose. He’s halfway across the room in seconds, threading through people like he’s on a mission—because, technically, he is. You’re watching him approach now, eyes bright with something dangerously amused.

“Frank - ” Matt starts, but Frank is already gone from that conversation mentally. He reaches you. Stops just long enough to grab your wrist.

“Frank?” you ask sweetly, like you didn’t just dismantle his entire self-control with six images and a sentence that should probably be illegal. He leans in slightly, voice low.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” he mutters. You blink.

“Why the urgency?" There’s a beat. You stare at him.vFrank stares back, dead serious. Frank stares at you like you are the only stable object in a universe currently trying to kill him.

“We need to leave,” he repeats, voice low, clipped, absolutely final. You tilt your head.

“You already said that.”

“Yeah."

“And you also said something about an oven.” Frank’s jaw tightens.

“It’s still on.” You blink slowly.

“Frank.”

“What.”

“We don’t even own an oven that works properly.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Behind him, Matt’s voice cuts in—careful, confused.

“Frank, are you sure everything’s—”

“It’s fine,” Frank calls over his shoulder immediately, too fast, too loud. Then, softer, to you again: “We are leaving. Now.” You don’t move. You just look at him. And Frank—who has faced actual armed men without flinching—visibly loses another percentage of his sanity. You’re being half-dragged now, heels catching slightly as he steers you through the crowd with zero patience left for anything resembling dignity.

“And also,” Frank adds, as if remembering a second disaster mid-escape, “the kitchen’s on fire.”

“Frank.”

“And the dog is on fire.”

“Frank!" That finally breaks you. A laugh slips out, sharp and breathless, and Frank tightens his grip on your wrist like he’s punishing you for it.

“Stop laughing,” he mutters.

“You’re insane,” you whisper back, still laughing.

“Yeah,” he says simply. “Move.” Behind you, Foggy is openly wheezing now. Matt is calling your names like he might actually try to follow. Frank doesn’t slow down once. He gets you out into the hallway, door swinging shut behind you both with a heavy thud.

And the second you’re outside the noise, outside the crowd, outside everything— Frank stops. Turns to you. Looks at you in that suit, that dress, that expression that still has him absolutely wrecked even after all that chaos. Then he exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath for ten straight minutes.

“…You done?” he asks. You tilt your head.

“With what?” Frank’s eyes drop to your mouth for half a second before snapping back up.

“Playing with me.” You smile slowly.

“No.” A beat. Frank closes his eyes like he’s praying for strength he does not possess.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Knew that was gonna be the answer.” Then he’s already pulling you down the hallway toward the exit again—faster now, less controlled, like the last thread of his restraint finally snapped clean through.

And honestly?

You don’t resist. Not even a little.

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t explain. Just mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “never letting you bring a phone anywhere ever again,” and keeps moving like if he stops, he’ll lose the last shred of restraint he’s been clinging to all night.

You, unfortunately, look delighted.

The walk to the car is quiet in that charged way where neither of you can risk speaking too much. Frank opens the passenger door for you with a little more force than necessary. You slide in, smoothing down your dress like you haven’t just ruined a man’s entire evening with six images and a single sentence. Frank shuts the door. Hard. He gets in on his side a second later and just sits there gripping the wheel for a moment like he’s recalibrating his entire nervous system.

“You’re unbelievable,” he finally says. You tilt your head.

“You love me.” A beat.

“…Yeah,” he mutters, like it annoys him that it’s true. The drive is painfully slow. Not because of traffic—because Frank is driving like every red light personally insulted him. His hand keeps flexing on the steering wheel, jaw tight, eyes forward, but every few seconds his gaze flicks to you anyway. You’re not helping. You’re sitting there all soft and smug, legs crossed, fingers resting in your lap like you didn’t just set his brain on fire. Every time you adjust your position slightly, the fabric of your dress shifts, and Frank exhales like it physically pains him.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” he says once.

“Doing what?” He glances at you briefly.

“Existing like that.” You smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He lets out a short, humorless laugh and shakes his head, like he’s trying to decide whether he’s in love or losing his mind. By the time you reach the apartment building, Frank is done pretending he’s fine. The elevator doors close behind you with a soft ding, and the second you’re alone, something in him snaps. It’s not gentle. Frank steps into your space immediately, hands going to your waist like it’s instinct, like he’s been holding himself back all night and the second he’s allowed, he just stops.

“Frank - ” you start, but it comes out breathier than intended when he pulls you in.

“Don’t,” he mutters. Then he kisses you. Hard. It’s not patient or teasing or even particularly careful. It’s the kind of kiss that carries hours of restraint and frustration and the memory of your texts still burned into his brain. His hands slide up your back, fingers tightening at your waist like he’s anchoring you to him, like if he doesn’t hold on, you’ll vanish again and he’ll lose his mind. You make a small sound against his mouth that only makes him groan low in his throat. He backs you up against the elevator wall, your back thudding the metal bar. You groan, and he slips his tongue in your mouth, hand tangled in your hair.

The kiss is all teeth and desperation, a frantic clash that tastes of whiskey and the lingering sweetness of your drink. His other hand slides down from your waist, over the curve of your hip, to grip your thigh through the silk of your dress.

"Frank," you gasp, pulling back just enough to breathe. He doesn't let you get far, just follows your mouth, kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth like he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

"Shut up," he mutters against your lips, his voice rough with need. "Just… shut up." You obey without a second thought, and his hands grip at your ass as he presses you against his erection, one hand drifting up to softly wrap around your throat to keep you steady as you trying your best to not rid him of his clothes in this public elevator.

"I hope you know-" he breathes between kisses, "That the second we get into that apartment you're done for, woman." The threat is a promise, and it sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. You can't help the small, breathy laugh that escapes you, a sound that's pure challenge. His eyes, dark and wild, meet yours. He doesn't like being laughed at, not now, not when he's this close to the edge. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your breath catch, not to hurt, but to remind you who's in charge here.

"Think that's funny?" he growls, his voice a low rumble against your lips.

"I think you're all talk," you taunt, your voice a whisper. "Unless you're planning on taking me right here in this elevator." His jaw works, and for a split second, you think he might actually consider it. The idea is intoxicating—being taken by him here, in this cold, metal box, the ding of the floors marking the rhythm of his thrusts. But then the elevator shudders slightly, a sign that you're approaching your floor, and the moment is broken.

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling back just enough to look at you. "You're so fucking beautiful." he rasps, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, gathering the smudged lipstick off your chin. Your lips graze his jaw, his soft spot, and he shudders against you, hands palming your waist as he drags your forward again. He groans, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "You're going to be the death of me."

"What a way to go," you whisper, your hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair. You pull his head back, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, and you feel a surge of triumph, hot and potent. Frank makes a sound that’s half warning, half surrender.

And then— The elevator dings. You both freeze.

Too late. The doors slide open on the next floor and a group of people step in mid-conversation, laughing, talking, completely oblivious to the fact that Frank Castle currently has you pressed against the wall like he forgot how elevators work. There’s a beat of silence. Someone clears their throat.

“Oh—sorry,” a woman says quickly, eyes flicking between you both like she’s trying not to assume anything. “Didn’t realize—” Frank immediately steps back like he’s been burned. You straighten your dress slowly, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Going up?” one of the men asks awkwardly. Frank nods once, jaw tight.

“Yeah.” The doors close again. The elevator is suddenly packed, way too small, way too bright, and absolutely suffocating in the worst possible way. Frank stands rigid behind you, one hand gripping the railing like it’s the only thing keeping him from continuing what he started, the other still steady on your waist, keeping you pinned to him, conveniently hiding his arousal. Everyone in the elevator is busy with something- too busy , in fact , to notice Frank's hand snake up the back of your dress. To notice the way his thumb presses against the cotton of your panties from behind. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from gasping. His thumb is a brand, a point of searing pressure against the damp fabric, moving in slow, deliberate circles that are designed to drive you insane. You can feel the heat of his palm through the silk of your dress, his fingers splayed across your lower back, holding you in place. It's a silent, secret assault, a punishment for your earlier taunts, and it's working. Your knees feel weak, your breath catching in your throat.

"Frank," you whisper, your voice barely audible, a plea and a warning all in one. He doesn't answer. He just leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"You wanted to play," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrates through your entire body. "We're playing."

He presses his thumb harder, rolling it in tight, agonizing circles until you nearly forget there’s anyone else in the cramped, fluorescent-lit box. A bead of sweat slicks down your spine. You keep your gaze pinned to the floor numbers, refusing to blink, and let your lips part just enough for a slow, careful breath. Your pulse thuds in your throat, loud as gunfire. Frank moves with military efficiency—nothing wasted, nothing visible from the front. Anyone who glances your way will just see the two of you pressed a little too close, maybe think you are the couple that can’t shut up about each other for five minutes. His eyes are fixed on the cheap steel paneling, but the set of his jaw says he’s doing nothing but counting the seconds until this ride ends. You can’t stand still. The pressure of his thumb sends little electric shocks up your legs, and you press your knees together tight, shifting your weight from foot to foot. His thumb hooks over the side of your panties, softly moving the wet fabric to the side, his fingers tip dragging against your folds. You look back at him, eyes wide.

“Frank-” He tuts, shaking his head.

“Don’t make a sound,” he says, barely moving his lips. His thumb slides between your folds and finds the slick, sensitive swell of your clit, and you nearly loose your grip on the polite-lady mask you’d hastily reassembled after the other passengers had entered. It would have been embarrassing if you didn’t want it so badly. If you weren’t already soaked through and desperate for him. The elevator is practically humming with the small talk of strangers, some blather about brunch plans and the weather—shit that barely registers over the white static in your head. Guilt and delight warr in your belly as you feel Frank’s thumb work impossibly slow circles, every movement careful, controlled, just this side of mean. A bartender would kill for a hand that steady. He knows he’s tormenting you back for that stunt you pulled. You can feel the smug, possessive tension radiating off him, shoulders squared, jaw set. And you can’t do a thing about it except stand there and take it. There are only three more floors. That’s a mercy and a curse. Frank eases the tip of his finger inside you, just enough to make you breathe out hard, then curves it up and away with devastating precision. There’s a moment - a suspended half-second - where you genuinely think your knees might go, right here in the moving tin can, with the nice couple and the guy in basketball shorts two feet away. You press your tongue hard against your back teeth, every inch of your body straining not to react. The elevator dings. One of the guys steps out, the conversation behind you still going but probably about to drop off a cliff if any of them actually looked over. Frank doesn’t stop. His hand is careful and relentless, moving just so, like he can already hear exactly what it would take to make you lose all coherence and is timing it down to the wire.

Ding !

7th floor. Your floor.

You break away from Frank, who is smirking at you as you dash out of the elevator. The doors close and you slap his chest.

“What the fuck, Frank ?” He smirks at you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he reaches into your purse for the keys blindly.

“You started it, mama. Don’t forget that.” He gets the keys in on the first try, which he privately scores as a minor victory given the state of his brain. The lock gives a stutter, then the door swings in and he crowds you inside. The apartment is cold and dim, just the little orange lamp on the credenza flicking some warmth over the wood floors, but he doesn’t even bother with the lights. He just sets you against the inside of the door and kisses you again, arms braced around your shoulders like a barricade. There’s a laugh still trapped in your lungs, and he swallows it, one hand holding your chin steady, the other wandering—a little lost, a little starved—down the slick of your dress and into the thigh slit.

“Frank,” you say, muffled, but you’re already looping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself up, both feet off the ground, until his hands catch under your thighs. “If I had known this is what a simple text would get me… I’d have texted you before we even left.” You breathe into his mouth as he drops you on the kitchen counter, spreading your legs so wide you feel a twinge of pain in your hips bones. His large hands push up your dress, his eyes filled with hunger as he drops down to his knees, kissing his way up your legs.

“You’re fuckin’ evil, y’know that ? Hell, i was tryna get to know your friends- and you’re sending me nudes.” You scoff, helping him rid you of your panties for good.

“Not nudes. Explicit images.”

“Still.” He looks up at you and god- the sight of him. That suit, the watch, the very smell of him is intoxicating. Your pussy pulses at the sight and you whine. He frowns at you, but it’s harmless. “We had rules, baby. You said you would behave.” You laugh, breathless, finding his hair with both hands.

“Yeah, well. I lied.” You tip your head back as his lips travel higher. “I was going to.. but then I saw you across the room and all I could think of is how fuckin’ big you are and how full you make me feel-”

“Baby-”

“And how badly I needed you.” You gasp, looking down at him. He’s starting up at you with his lips parted, inches away from fully giving in. You can tell he’s a little bit ticked off- he did genuinely want to get to know your friends.

But you just scramble his brain.

You fuck him up to a point of no return, and god, how is he supposed to say no to you when a single graze of your skin against his makes him go hard like a teenager that cant control himself. He groans and before he can decide against it, he pushes his nose against your clit, his tongue lapping at your folds. You whimper, falling back against the counter, eyes rolling back, hand tangled in his hair. Your thighs wrap around his head and he has to stop himself from moaning at the sensation. Your stiletto heels dig into his back, and he softly hooks his arms around your thighs to drag you further against his mouth. He works his tongue in slow, devastating circles, not bothering with teasing because both of you know exactly what you want and how you want it. The scratch of stubble against the soft skin of your inner thighs is a threat and a promise—he’s not stopping until you shatter. The noise you make is animal, an open-throated whine that only eggs him on. It’s so unfair, how broad he is, how the span of his hands presses your legs apart until you’re splayed open on the edge of the counter, legs shaking from the effort of keeping yourself upright. You clutch his head in both hands, knees threatening to buckle even though you’re already seated, and all you can do is let Frank devour you like you’re his last meal. He’s always been greedy—never enough, never satisfied with just a taste. His tongue fucks into you, fast and slick, and then he pulls back, lips shiny, steadying your hips while his thumb finds your clit and just holds it there—a slow, grinding pressure that makes you see stars. He doesn’t stop. Not when your moans get louder, not when you try to clamp your thighs around his head, not when you plead and curse and dig your nails into his scalp. If anything, he redoubles his effort. Jesus Christ, he looks so good like this. The suit. The hands. The intensity of his focus. Like he could do this forever, just keep you pinned to the counter, legs spread, and eat you out until you forget your goddamn name. You come so hard you almost black out, vision blurring white at the edges, a sob catching in your throat. Frank doesn’t let up, not even as you shudder and gasp, his tongue flicking slow and gentle now, coaxing every last spasm out of you before he finally pulls back. His face is flushed, lips wet, eyes black with hunger. He stands up, licking at his lips.

He does not take his eyes off you as he rises, huge hands sliding up your quaking thighs, thumbs pressing bruises into the soft flesh above yout knees.

The suit is a mess now, tie askew, top button lost somewhere in the blur, and he looks gorgeous like this: rumpled, flushed, wrecked on you and by you. He leans close, breath hot on your ear, and you shudder when his zipper rasps down.

“You think you get to act like that, huh?” His voice is rough, gravelled. “You think you can just wind me up in public, send me pictures, get me hard for you like a fuckin’ teenager?” His knuckles drag up your inner thigh, just shy of too rough, and he grins when you flinch and then spreads your legs even wider for him.

“You proud of yourself?” You want to say yes but it comes out as a whine, his name wrecked. Frank’s hands—those enormous palms, the ones that had once broken a man’s jaw with a single punch—slide up your thighs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He keeps you wide for him, thumbs digging deep into the delicate flesh above your knees, a half-growl of approval rumbling in his chest as he looks at you: slick, open, and already starting to tremble from the aftershocks. He’s hard as a fucking rock, the outline of his dick straining so high against his pants that it looks comically obscene, threatening to tear clean through the expensive wool. Frank leans in, crowding you back against the cabinets so completely that you couldn’t slide away if you tried, his mouth at your ear again. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he mutters, and it’s both a promise and a threat. He’s promising to fuck you so good you never pull a stunt like that again- even though you both know you will.

This magnetic attraction between the both of you is palpable, always has been- and it’s not going away anytime soon. He shoves his pants down enough to free himself—fuck, he’s so hard it hurts just looking at him, the head of his dick flushed dark, thick veins standing out along the length. He gives himself a rough stroke and you feel the heat pool low in your gut all over again, greedy and desperate. You can hear how wet you still are when he lines up against your slick entrance and notches in, the stretch already making your legs shake. He doesn’t ease himself in, not really; he’s too big for that, and both of you know it, so the first push is bruising, the head splitting you open in a way that’s almost too much, but you can’t get enough of it. You whine, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. he groans at the feeling of your nails through the shirt, wanting to feel you against his skin. His hand comes up to roughly cup your cheek and jaw, pressing comforting kisses to your face.

“Y’alright ?” He rasps, hips softly nudging as he pushes himself in a little bit more. “S’not too much ?” You nod, though the gasp that escapes you sounds guttural. Every nerve ending feels inflamed, every cell in your body calls out for more. Frank isn’t even all the way in yet and already you want to sob from the stretch, the pressure, the feeling of being split open by a man who acts like he wanted to climb inside and fuse himself to you. “Good girl,” Frank says, voice breathy with restraint, eyes locked on the place where he disappeares inside you. He grips your hips, rolling them forward, and you feel him push deeper, impossibly so, the whole length of him crowding every inch of your insides. He watches your face, brow creased, and his own breathing staggers. The kitchen counter bites into your ass but you don’t care, didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world as Frank buries himself to the hilt. You could never get over it, how absurdly big he is. Frank's hand tightens around your hip.

"J's breathe through it, mama. That's it. Attagirl." He hums, softly rubbing circles on your hip as he works on unbuttoning his shirt with one hand- the need to feel your hands pressed against his skin is overwhelming, like a living thing burning inside of him.

Frank finally gets the last button undone and shoves the dress shirt off his shoulders—leaving the sleeves bunched at his elbows, but he can’t be bothered to care about anything except the need to get his skin on yours, to feel you clawing at his back, your hands trembling and desperate. He sucks a shallow breath in as you wrap your arms around his neck, your body going molten and loose as he rocks into you. The stretch is relentless in the best way, each thrust knocking moans out of you that barely sound human, each one making his cock twitch and pulse inside you like he’s seventeen again. He likes the way your hips fight him, instinctively trying to jerk back from the fullness, but he stills you with a hand wide across your stomach, holding you flush and tight against him.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grits out, voice pure sandpaper, watching the way you bite your own hand to keep from screaming.He fucks forward, slow at first but so deep you swear you could feel him in your ribs, and you lose all sense of time or place.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” he grinds out, pacing himself only because he wants to draw this out, wants to ruin you completely. His praise goes straight to your head, between your legs, and you can’t help sobbing out his name. “So fuckin’ good for me. Always so good.” Every thrust rocks your body against the counter, your back arching, chest pressing against him. He’s barely pulled back before you’re clawing at his arms, pulling him deeper, loving the way his cock drags along every nerve ending, perfectly punishing. Frank’s rhythm is a hard, steady piston, helmed by those slabs of muscle for shoulders, and it’s all you can do to hold on, to ride the bright edge of pain-pleasure that he’s mastered like a science. He frames your face with both hands, fingers sticky where they’d just been inside you, and he kisses the side of your mouth like he’s trying to memorize how you taste after you’ve come.

“Always knew you were trouble,” Frank huffs, his voice shredded, “but I didn’t think you could ruin me like this.” He’s not lying. You see it in the way his gaze skips down your body, jaw flexing. There’s a reverence there—a kind of awe that you can make him feel this out of control, that he wants you this bad. God, you never should’ve gone to that stupid event.

You should’ve stayed here and done this, over and over again- all night.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He leans in, biting the corner of your jaw, and you feel his stubble burn against your cheek.His hand curls under your ass, hefting you closer, and you can’t contain the desperate moan bubbling up in your throat as the angle digs into that spongey spot deep inside you.

“Frank- mmph- fuck !” You whine, thighs wrapping tighter around his waist, sucking him in deeper inside you. He’s all muscle, all heat and hardness and relentless drive, his voice a low, cracked thunder in your ear.

“You know what you do to me? Fuck, you drive me insane. Can’t think straight, can’t walk into a room and not wanna take you apart.” There’s a possessive edge to the words, like he needs you to know how completely he’s ruined. He braces one arm beside your head and uses the other to pull your thigh over his shoulder, opening you as wide as you’ll go on the cold granite. You’re panting, slick and open and so wet you can hear it every time he pounds in, the slap of his hips against you obscene in the stillness. You feel him everywhere – in your bones, in your teeth, your skull buzzing with pleasure. Your eyes roll back and you press your hands to the hard planes of his chest.

“God, so good, Frank. Fuck-” You choke on a sob as he hits that same spot again. Frank’s grip is bruising and perfect, and he slams into you with a precision that’s half violence, half worship—like he’s trying to prove something, to mark you in a way that’ll hum in your bones for days. You can’t even catch your breath properly, not with how deep he’s fucking you, not with the way it keeps getting better every time, like he’s always been meant for this, for you. Your nails drag down his chest, scoring tracks over the ridges of muscle, feeling the sweat starting to bloom under his skin. He loves it, that feral scrape of pain and ownership, and he’s not even trying to hide how much.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re—” He can’t finish, not with the way you clamp down on him, not with how you melt under his hands. The words fracture into a choke and he just watches you, drinking in your desperation, the way your mouth falls open. Frank’s hand slides up, tracing the line of your throat, his thumb braced under your jaw, holding you still so he can see every flicker of pleasure on your face. He needs to see it—needs to memorize it, the way your mouth drops open, the way your eyelids fluttered and your whole body tense in his grip.

Jesus, he wants to live here, right at this edge, right in this moment where you can’t stop repeating his name, where you cling to him like you’d drown if he let you go. He loves that you let him do this to you, that you always meet him headlong, hungry, never shy, never pulling back. Every time, you let him take you apart and build you back up. He can’t imagine wanting anything else. Not ever. He presses his forehead to yours, sweat slick between your skin, and slows his hips just enough to make you whimper, to make you open your eyes and the look in them is pure desperation and unequivocal love.

“Yeah, baby ? Pretty girl wants to come ? Hmm ?”You nod, jaw clenched, lungs burning. You want to say something, anything, but all you can do is reach for him, clutch at the back of his neck, needing him impossibly close. Frank’s hand tightens at your waist, anchoring you as he drills into you—harder, deeper, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You feel yourself spiral, every muscle tensing, pleasure spiking hot and bright through your core until it’s all you are, until everything narrows down to just him and the way he fills you.

“God, baby, look at you,” he says, voice a snarl softened into something starved. “So fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ sweet. Look at the way you take it. Always take all of me, don’t you? Fuck, I love you.” You make a sound, a wretched, greedy noise, and it’s so undignified but you don’t care. You’re nothing but need. Frank has you locked down with the weight of his hips, the crush of his chest, and the absolute conviction in his hands. For a beat, it’s just the two of you in the universe: the electric taste of skin; the ragged gasp of breath; the way you go molten when he grits out “so perfect for me, always my perfect girl, always.” The words are rough, more like a dare than a compliment, but with Frank you know it’s the highest praise in the world. You want to live up to it, want to be every bit as good as he says.

He braces you with one arm, holding you steady while the other hand comes up to your face, thumb rough and sweet at your cheek. You feel him shake - he’s trying so hard to hold back, to make it last longer. The silk of your red dress is completely crumpled now, bunched up so high on your hips that you fear no amount of ironing or steaming will bring it back to it's former glory. Frank reaches up and tugs the front of the dress down, revealing the heavy swell of your breasts he adores. He pulls the straps down your shoulders, baring you for him, filling his hands with you, like he wants to remind himself you’re real, that this is happening, that you’re his. He thumbs your nipple, and the sensation is so sharp it ricochets straight to your core, wrung out and raw and so close you could cry. He keeps his eyes fixed on you—hungry, reverent, desperate—and you see it in his furrowed brow and trembling lips, the way he’s holding himself back for you, for this, for as long as he can manage.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Frank mutters against your skin, voice gone hoarse with need. He bites just enough for you to feel it, then soothes the sting with his tongue, laving circles until your head tips back, eyes squeezed shut. “You love it, don’t you? Love when I take it all for myself.” You nod helplessly, nails digging half-moons into his shoulders. Your whole world telescopes down to the way he bites and sucks, the obscene, slick drag of him inside you, the counter edge cutting cold against your ass while everything else burns. Every nerve ending is tuned to his rhythm, every cell in your body screaming more, harder

“Come on, sweetheart. C’mon.” It’s a plea and a command. His face is right in yours, sweat beading at his temple, and you lose all sense of dignity, legs locking around his hips, dragging him even deeper. The next thrust is a knockout punch, a shockwave that rips through every cell, and you’re gone. The orgasm is blinding, a detonation that rips all language from your brain, replaces your veins with liquid fire. Frank is right there with you, his hands clutching so tight at your ass and thighs you know you’ll find fingerprints in the morning, every muscle in his body locked and trembling. He buries his face in your neck, groaning into your skin, breath hot and damp as your name slips out in a strangled, desperate whisper. He keeps moving, slower now but just as deep, coaxing every aftershock until you think you might actually collapse, arms and legs trembling with the wreckage of it. He grinds in, not letting you escape the fullness, and you can feel the twitch and pulse of him as he comes, cock jerking against your walls, his whole body shuddering through the release. The sound he makes isn’t even human – a raw, wrecked noise, like he’s breaking apart. His grip on the leg slung over his shoulder tightens and he groans.

“Fuck- fuck.” You whine at the overstimulation, your body jerking. Frank tries to gather himself, bracing against the countertop, but his vision stutters, blacks out at the edges. He rides the waves of aftershock, savoring the pulsing grip of you around him, the way your slick, overheated body trembles in his hands. There’s a cut on his knuckle—he must’ve knocked it on the edge of the counter in his rush to pin you down. He notices it only because you touch the back of his hand, thumb stroking soft over the abrasion, grounding him. For a second, there’s just the sound of both your harsh breathing, the sting of sweat in his eyes, the residual buzz of that elevator adrenaline. The world could go to hell outside and he wouldn’t care. Frank leans into you, presses his brow to your collarbone, waits for his pulse to come down.The world narrows to the ache of him inside you, still pulsing, and the warm, wrecked hush of your mingled breathing. He holds you there, his arm banded tight around your waist, his other hand still cupping the back of your head like you might tip off the counter and drift away if he lets go. He noses into the shallow of your neck, the scruff of his jaw scraping a path up to your ear.

“Jesus - fuck,” he mutters, barely audible.

You giggle, a hiccup of relief and disbelief, and the sound vibrates through his lips where he presses them to your collarbone. He kisses you there, soft this time—a thank you, a benediction. Your dress is a massacre, rucked past your hips, the straps sliding off your shoulders,yet to frank you’ve never looked more beautiful. He eases your leg off his shoulder and you whine, eyes flying shut. He shushes you, brushing your sweat damp hair away from your face.

“Hey.. hey.. You okay, baby ? You with me ?” You can’t answer, not at first. The aftershocks roll through you in dizzy waves, every nerve still vibrating. Frank’s hands are everywhere, broad and grounding, and you can’t remember how language works, let alone how to get your lips and your lungs and your brain to collaborate on a single word. He tuts.

“Baby, i need you t’talk to me. You alright ?” He asks, cupping your cheek and kisses your forehead repeatedly. You nod, gripping his wrist as you lean in to the affection, eyes fluttering closed. He holds you steady, breathing hard, still cradling your face like it’s the only thing that matters. His thumb skims your cheekbone, lingering in a slow, lazy sweep, and he searches your eyes for something—confirmation, maybe, or just the reassurance that you’re really, blissfully here with him. When you finally manage a word, it’s more a sigh than a sound.

“Holy shit.” Frank’s mouth curves into a battered little smile. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, then your jaw, then down the column of your throat, making a slow, careful inventory of everything he bruised or bit or worshipped. He relishes the heat coming off your skin, the way your pulse still goes wild under his tongue. You can feel the bruises blossoming already, and you hope they last.

He leans back to look at you properly, hair mussed, the collar of his shirt hanging half-off, body still flush against him. You let your face rest in his palm, cheek smashed against stubbled knuckles, and try to blink your vision back online. The kitchen tile is cool under your heels. The world wobbles and pivots, everything off-kilter but in a way that makes you want to laugh.

He kisses your forehead again, softer.

“That’s my good girl. Knew you could take it, huh?” His voice is smug but his thumb swipes a lazy, loving line over your cheek. Frank chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. He shifts his weight, still buried deep inside you, and the movement sends another wave of pleasure-pain rippling through your oversensitive body. You whimper softly, clutching at his shoulders as if trying to anchor yourself to reality.

"Easy there, mama," he murmurs against your temple. He grips your hips, kissing your forehead again. "Gotta pull out, sweet girl. Breathe f'me alright ?" You nod. Slowly, he pulls himself out of you, the drag sending your body into overdrive. Your eyes clench shut, nails digging into his biceps. Frank swears under his breath the second he feels you clench around nothing. His forehead drops briefly to your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut like even pulling away from you takes effort.

“Christ,” he breathes. Your body jerks at the loss of him, thighs trembling violently around his hips, and Frank is immediately there again—hands firm on your waist, keeping you steady while your breathing goes ragged.

“I know,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, softer too. “I know, sweetheart.” You’re still floating somewhere several feet above your own body, head fuzzy and warm, every inch of skin oversensitive. Frank reaches down automatically, thumb stroking slow circles against your thigh, grounding you while he presses lazy kisses along your jaw.

“You still with me?” he asks again. You blink at him slowly.

“Unfortunately.” That gets a tired laugh out of him. Real this time. Deep and wrecked and fond.

“Unfortunately?”

“You nearly killed me.”

“Mhm.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “And whose fault was that?” You think about it seriously for half a second.

“…Yours.” Frank snorts.

“Absolutely not.”

“It literally started because you wore a suit.”

“You saw me wear the suit before we left.”

“And I suffered privately at first.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“You can’t prove that.” He shakes his head against your shoulder, smiling despite himself. There’s lipstick smeared faintly near the corner of his mouth now, and his hair is completely destroyed from your hands tugging through it. He looks ruined in the most spectacular way imaginable. You reach up weakly and smooth your fingers through the dark strands near his temple.

“You look pretty again,” you murmur. Frank groans instantly.

“Baby,” he warns.

“What? It’s true.” Your thumb traces lazily across his cheekbone. “Very pretty. All sweaty and mean.”

“I was not mean.”

“You fingered me in a crowded elevator.” His mouth twitches.

“…Alright. Little mean.”

“Mm. Criminal behavior, honestly.”

“Says the woman sendin’ me filth while I was tryna make friends.” You grin sleepily.

“Did they like you?” Frank huffs out another laugh and finally straightens enough to look at you properly. His eyes drag slowly over your face, then lower—taking in the state of your dress, the marks blooming across your skin, the completely dazed expression you’re failing to hide. And something in his face softens immediately.

There it is.

That look.

The one underneath all the heat and possessiveness and rough hands. The one that always catches you off guard no matter how many times you see it. Like he still can’t believe you’re real. Like loving you is the easiest and most terrifying thing that’s ever happened to him. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw carefully.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. The concern in his voice is so genuine it makes your chest ache. You nod, leaning into his palm without thinking.

“Better than okay.” Frank studies you another second like he’s making sure. Then he kisses you again—completely different this time.

Slow.

Tender.

Still hungry, because Frank honestly doesn’t know how to touch you without wanting more, but softer now. His mouth moves against yours with exhausted affection, stealing little breaths between kisses while his thumbs stroke along your waist beneath the ruined silk of your dress. You hum against his lips, melting instantly.

“There she is,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“My girl.” The words hit you right in the chest. You smile lazily, hooking your arms around his neck again.

“You’re clingy.”

“Says you.”

“I’m adorable about it.”

“You’re a menace.”

“But I’m your menace.” Frank’s expression immediately goes helpless in that way it only ever does with you. Like you’ve reached directly into his ribcage and squeezed his heart in your fist.

“…Yeah,” he says quietly. “You are.” For a minute neither of you moves. You just stay there tangled together in the dim kitchen, breathing each other in while the city hums faintly outside the apartment windows. Frank’s hands roam absentmindedly up and down your back beneath the dress, soothing now instead of demanding. Your fingers trace the warm skin at the nape of his neck. Eventually, you glance toward the hallway.

“We never ate dinner.” Frank follows your gaze for half a second before looking back at you. Then, without warning, he bends and lifts you straight off the counter into his arms. You yelp softly, clutching his shoulders automatically.

“Frank!”

“What?”

“You can’t just pick me up every time I say something.”

“Watch me.” You laugh, breathless, as he carries you toward the bedroom like you weigh nothing at all.

“I thought we were getting food!”

“We are.”

“When?” Frank nudges the bedroom door open with his foot, eyes already darkening again as he looks at you sprawled in his arms.

Karen introduced you to Frank Castle on a Tuesday, and afterward you blamed her for it constantly. At first, he was just the terrifying guy who showed up at her apartment bleeding half to death and refusing medical help like it was a personality trait. You thought he was rude. He thought you talked too much. Karen thought you were both idiots almost immediately.

But then Frank kept showing up. Always with some excuse. Information for Matt. Coffee for Karen. Food nobody asked for. And somehow he always lingered longer when you were there too. You fell for him slowly.

In stupid little pieces.

The way he remembered your coffee order after hearing it once. The way he automatically walked closest to the street at night. The way his giant terrifying self softened every time you laughed at one of his dry muttered jokes like he couldn’t help it.

And Frank— God.

Frank fell hard.

Karen noticed first.

“You’re staring again,” she told him one night while you sat on the floor stealing fries from the takeout container in your lap.

“I ain’t starin’.”

“You absolutely are." Frank looked at you like you were something dangerous in the best possible way. Like he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure he was allowed to. That was the thing about him. He never pushed.

Not once.

You dated other guys before Frank. Plenty. But they always got impatient eventually. Always acted like sex was some finish line they deserved to cross if they waited long enough. So you kept saying no. And after enough bad experiences, the fear just… stayed. Frank never made you feel guilty for it. The two of you became disgustingly affectionate anyway. Constantly touching. Your legs over his lap on the couch. His hand at your back guiding you through crowds. Falling asleep tangled together during movies. Stealing his shirts. Sitting between his knees while he cleaned guns and listening to him grumble about your taste in music. But every time things almost turned sexual, panic crept in. And every single time, Frank stopped immediately. One night he walked you home and looked at your mouth long enough to make your knees weak.

“If I kiss you,” he asked quietly, “you tellin’ me to stop?” You panicked. And Frank stepped back instantly like your comfort mattered more than breathing. That was probably when you realized you loved him. Not because he wanted you. Because he didn’t need anything from you to stay.

----------

You stand in the bedroom, pacing back and forth, chewing on your thumb.

God, you feel so stupid.

Your heart is pounding hard enough to make your ribs ache. You’ve faced armed men before. You’ve patched bullet wounds with shaking hands. You’ve stared down monsters and lived through it. And somehow this is worse. Because this is Frank.

Frank, who kisses your shoulder every morning without fail.

Frank, who drapes himself over you on the couch like a weighted blanket because he knows you secretly love it.

Frank, who always reaches for your hand first in crowded places.

Frank, who has spent months loving you with his entire body while carefully avoiding the one line you kept drawing between you.

Not because you hated touch.

God, no.

You’re practically glued to him half the time. You sit in his lap while he cleans guns. Fall asleep with your face in his neck. Steal his shirts and crawl into his arms every night like it’s instinct. And the need that crawls inside your skin when you see him shirtless, or doing anything with his hands- god. It's insatiable.

But sex— Sex always felt different to you.

Too vulnerable.

Too permanent.

Too much.

And every guy before Frank eventually got tired of waiting. Some were patient at first. Most pretended to be. Then came the guilt trips. The sighs. The passive-aggressive comments. The inevitable: What, you don’t trust me?

And eventually, somehow, time just… kept passing. Until suddenly you were here.

A grown virgin.

In Frank’s apartment.

In Frank’s clothes.

Hopelessly in love with a man who has never once made you feel bad for being scared. Which honestly makes this so much harder. You stop pacing long enough to stare at yourself in the mirror.

“You are a grown woman,” you mutter weakly. The reflection looks unconvinced. From the living room, you hear the low murmur of the TV and the faint clink of a beer bottle against the coffee table. Frank’s home from a job. Showered already. Clean black t-shirt. Gray sweats hanging low on his hips. You know because you’ve spent the last twenty minutes trying not to think about it. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Fuck it.

Before you can lose your nerve, you walk out into the living room. Frank’s sprawled on the couch, one arm stretched across the back cushions, beer balanced against his stomach while some old war documentary drones quietly from the television. The second he sees you hovering there, he frowns slightly.

“You alright, baby?” he asks. You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. Frank immediately sits up straighter.

“That bad, huh?” You blurt it before you lose your nerve.

“Frank, I want to have sex with you.” Frank spits beer all over himself. You jump backward as he starts choking violently.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Oh my God.” He’s coughing hard enough his face turns red.

“Sorry-shit-” Frank wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at you like you just confessed to arson. “You—what?” Your face burns.

“Well now I regret bringin’ it up.”

“No, hold on.” He sets the beer down carefully like sudden movements might scare you off. “What?” You groan and cover your face.

“This is humiliating.”

“Sweetheart.” His voice softens immediately. “C’mere.” You shake your head aggressively.

“No, because now you’re gonna look at me weird.”

“I have literally never looked at you weird a day in my life.”

“You absolutely have.”

“Okay, fair. But not for this.” You peek at him through your fingers. Frank still looks stunned. Not upset. Not uncomfortable. Just deeply confused. “You wanna…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you. “With me?”

“Frank, there are no other people in this apartment.”

“That ain’t what I mean.” You know that. Your stomach twists violently. Frank studies you carefully now, all teasing gone.

“I thought you didn’t want that stuff,” he says gently. “And I was okay with that.”

“I do want it.”

“Then why’ve you looked ready to bolt every time things got heated?” Your face gets hotter.

“Because I’ve never done it before.” Silence. Frank blinks once.

“…done what before?” You stare at the floor.

“Any of it.” Another beat. Then:

“…Baby.” You want the earth to swallow you whole.

“I’m a virgin, okay? I've never been kissed, never been touched by anyone except myself. ” you blurt out finally. “And before you make a face about it—”

“I ain’t makin’ a face.”

“You are internally.”

“I’m really not.” You risk a glance up. He genuinely isn’t. He just looks… shocked.

“You never—?”

“No.”

“And nobody ever—?”

“No.” Frank leans back slowly against the couch cushions like he just got hit with something.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I know. God, i'm so fucking embarassing.”

“No, sweetheart, I just—” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “I thought maybe you just weren’t comfortable with physical intimacy.” You snort nervously.

“I’m literally attached to your spine twenty-four hours a day.”

“That’s true.”

“I love physical stuff.” Your voice gets smaller. “I just… wanted my first time to actually mean something.” Frank goes very still at that. “And all the guys before you kept acting like they deserved it eventually because they waited long enough.” You shrug tightly. “So I kept saying no.” Something ugly flashes across Frank’s face. Not at you. Never at you. At them.

“I’m gonna need names,” he mutters darkly. Despite everything, you laugh.

“No, you absolutely do not.”

“They sound annoyin’.”

“They were.” A silence settles between you. Not awkward. Just… full. Frank looks at you for a long second, something almost painful softening his face.

“You know I’d wait forever, right?” he says quietly. Your chest aches instantly.

“I know.”

“And I mean forever.”

“I know.”

“You don’t gotta prove anythin’ to me.” Your throat tightens.

“That’s kinda the problem,” you admit softly. Frank frowns slightly.

“What d’you mean?”

You stare down at your hands.

“I mean…” God. “I’m not doing this because I feel pressured.” Your voice gets quieter. “I’m doing it because I’m in love with you and I trust you and I think about you constantly.” Frank exhales sharply.

“You gotta stop sayin’ stuff like that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m tryin’ real hard to keep actin’ normal.” Your stomach flips. You walk closer to him, just so he can drag you to stand between his legs, his hands on your waist. You force yourself to keep talking before fear catches up again.

“I think about you kissing me,” you admit quietly. “And touching me.” Your face burns hotter. “And I think about your hands a lot, which honestly feels medically concerning at this point.” Frank makes a strangled sound. You look up just in time to see him drag a hand over his face.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps.

“And I know I’m late to all this and weird about it and probably overthinking everything—”

“Hey.” His voice cuts through immediately. Firm. “None of that.” You stop. Frank leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on yours with that terrifying intensity he gets when he means something completely. “There is nothin’ wrong with you.” Emotion punches straight through your chest. He softens instantly seeing your face change.

“C’mere,” he says quietly. This time, you go immediately. Frank catches you the second you lean into him, pulling you straight into his lap like it’s instinct. His arms wrap around your waist automatically, warm and solid and safe, and you bury your face in his neck with a shaky breath.

“There she is,” he murmurs softly against your hair. You cling harder.

“I’m nervous.”

“I know.”

“You still want me?” Frank actually leans back enough to look offended.

“Baby, I have wanted you since the second you yelled at me in Karen’s kitchen for bleeding on her floor.” A startled laugh escapes you.

“You remember that?”

“You threatened me with a mop.”

“You were bleeding everywhere.”

“And I still thought you were cute.” You groan into his shoulder.

“This is awful.”

“No,” he says softly, one hand sliding up your back. “This is you trustin’ me.” His thumb strokes slowly along your spine.

“You sure about this?” he asks quietly. You nod against him.

“Yeah.”

“And if you change your mind at any point?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“And then we stop."

“Yes.” Frank studies your face carefully for another second. Then his hand slides gently into your hair.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly. Your heart practically stops. You nod once.

“Yeah.” Frank closes the distance so gently you almost don’t feel it at first—just the soft, rough drag of his thumb along your jaw, then his lips, warm and chapped, brushing yours. It’s not the kind of kiss you expected from Frank. You were bracing for a car wreck, something bruising and violent, the way he is on a job. But it’s nothing like that. He kisses you so slow, so careful, like you might shatter. You don’t shatter. Not exactly. But the sensation is so intense you feel yourself splitting open from the inside out. His hand cups the back of your head, steadying you. He pulls back barely an inch.

“You okay?” Voice low, hoarse. You nod, but it’s not enough, so you push forward, mouth crashing into his, desperate for the centrifugal force he’s been holding back. He lets you, lets you climb messily into his lap, lets you fist your hands in his shirt. And when your tongue nudges against his, Frank gives a little grunt and opens for you, just a hair, just enough. Every nerve in your body catches fire. You’d thought, maybe, that the first time would feel awkward. Like taking a test you never studied for. But Frank makes it easy. He keeps checking in with you, saying your name between kisses, grounding you with his hands, never letting you get lost in the panic of it. At some point, you realize you’re straddling his thighs and he’s got one palm splayed wide over your lower back, the other bracing your jaw, like he’s afraid you’ll tip out of gravity if he ever lets go.

“You still good?” he rasps.

“Yes,” you say, and it comes out as a gasp. You’re trembling. Not with fear—the opposite. You want to crawl out of your skin. Frank’s hands are on your hips now, then under your shirt,dragging slow up your ribs. He keeps it gentle, keeps it steady, like he’s reading your mind. When his thumb sweeps over one nipple, you arch so hard you nearly headbutt him. He huffs a tiny laugh, then grins, wide and wolfish.

“Sensitive?”

“Shut up.” He does, at least for a second. His mouth finds your neck, then your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He peppers all of it with slow, open-mouthed kisses that threaten to melt your brain. He lifts the hoodie up and off in one slow motion, and you almost laugh at yourself for being nervous; it’s just Frank, looking at you like he’s been starving and you’re the only meal he’s ever wanted.

“Christ,” he says, low and reverent, and runs a thumb just under the swell of your breast, gentle, careful, like he’s afraid you’ll spook. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he mutters, and the words go straight to your cunt. You whine, grinding down against him on instinct, and he groans, hands darting out to steady you. He kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you part for him. You feel his hands everywhere—your back, your hips, your thighs—steadying you, coaxing you closer. His touch is a little rough around the edges, always bordering on too much, but never quite crossing the line. He’s so careful with you it almost breaks your heart. He pulls back long enough to look you up and down, like he’s memorizing you. There’s a heat in his eyes that makes you shiver, but it’s the possessiveness that really undoes you. Like he can’t believe you’re letting him see you like this.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, low and rough, and you nearly combust. You can’t stop touching him—his shoulders, his jaw, the back of his neck. He likes it, you can tell, because he keeps pressing you closer, like he wants to crawl inside your skin.

“Can I touch you?” you whisper. You don’t even recognize your own voice, breathy and shaking. Frank’s face goes soft, like you just handed him a live wire and told him to hold it for you.

“Baby, you can do whatever you want to me.” He grins, then kisses you again, slow and deep, while guiding your hands under his shirt. You run your fingers over his chest, all scars and muscle and heat. His skin is hot to the touch, the steady beat of his heart pounding under your palms. You dig your nails in, just a little, and Frank makes a sound that’s half-growl, half-moan, like he’s straining not to just take you apart right there.

“You good?” he asks again, voice ragged. You nod, then remember to say it:

“Yeah. Yes. I’m good—you’re…” You can’t finish the sentence, so you just kiss him again. It feels less scary now, more inevitable, like gravity. He lets you push him back against the couch, your thighs tight around his waist. His hands slip from your ribs to your ass, squeezing gently, like he’s testing how much you can take. You whimper, hips jerking forward, rubbing against the hard line of him through his sweats. Frank curses, low and frantic, and you get drunk on the sound.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he pants. “Gotta slow down or I’m gonna blow it before we even start.”

“Don’t slow down,” you say. “I want—” You don’t know how to finish the sentence. Frank does it for you.

“You want me?” He’s grinning, but his eyes are almost desperate.

“Yes,” you say. “Frank, I want you.” Something in him snaps. He reaches down, clearing his throat as he taps your thighs.

“Sit up, baby.” He hums. You lean forward, sitting up on your knees. His hands are slow and careful as they pull down your shorts, and you bite your bottom lip as he softly coaxes it off your legs. Your wet cunt soaks through your panties, and when you sit back down on his sweatpants, that extra barrier of tissue removed makes the strain in his pants much bigger against you. He’s hard as hell now, and you can feel the heat of him even through his boxers. Your thighs tremble. The air in the apartment seems thinner, more electric. Frank’s hands run reverently up your thighs, slow, no rush, but the tension in his arms says he’s holding himself back. It makes you feel powerful. It makes you feel safe.

“Gonna take these off, sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumb sliding under the band of your panties. He’s watching your face, checking for panic. There isn’t any. Not anymore. You nod, and he peels them down, slow, exposing you inch by inch. When the fabric finally drags off your ankles, you’re left straddling his lap, bare except for your tank top, skin goosepimpled and desperate. Frank’s hands splay wide over the soft meat of your ass, kneading you, warm and solid. He guides you forward, grinding you down against the bulge of his cock, and you gasp. The friction’s almost too much. Not enough. You can feel yourself slick up, can see it glistening on his gray sweats when you grind on him again.

“Fuck, look at you,” Frank rasps, voice tight. “So fuckin’ wet, baby.” Your face should be burning, but you just want more. You want him everywhere. You want to come apart all over him. It makes you brave.

“Can I see you?” you whisper, hands curling under the hem of his shirt. Frank doesn’t answer. He just lifts his arms, lets you peel the shirt up and off, revealing the wild scar-mapped planes of his chest, the ridges of muscle , the old bullet wound you once stitched shut with trembling hands. You run your fingertips over every inch, tracing him like you’re memorizing a map you’ll never get to visit again. He shivers under your touch.

“God,” you murmur, awe in your voice. He grins, lopsided and a little shy, and pulls you in for another kiss. This one’s dirtier—the way his tongue drags over yours, the way his hands squeeze your waist, the press of his cock as he grinds up into you. He’s leaking through his boxers now, hot and slick, and you rub yourself shamelessly against it, chasing the friction. Frank groans, deep and desperate.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he breathes. “We got time.” You don’t know how you’ll survive it. He nudges your thighs apart, makes a show of looking down at the space between your bodies. All his focus is on you: on your bare knees bracketing his hips, the hungry, worshipful way your chest rises and falls with each shaky breath. It’s more than he deserves, and he wants to say something gentle to you, but all that comes out is a low,

“Fuck, baby. You’re drivin’ me crazy.” You laugh, but it’s nervous, hands trembling a little as you brace them on his shoulders. Frank has to slow down, to make sure his hands are steady as he slides them up and down your sides. You’re soaking wet—so wet the slick’s already darkened the front of his sweats, and his cock is straining, thick and angry, beneath the fabric. The look on your face terrifies and thrills him, like you’re balancing right on the edge of a rooftop, dizzy from the height and the want. He wants to say something to make it easier.

“Hey. We can stop anytime, you hear me?” He cups your face in one big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone. You nod, but the motion’s a little frantic, like you’re trying to prove you’re not scared. He’s never seen anyone so fucking brave.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper, voice shaking, “I just—” You squeeze your eyes shut, like you’re embarrassed. Your hands dig into his shoulders. “Frank, I don’t know what to do.” He nods, softly guiding your hands down to his sweats. He kisses your temple.

“Take these off.” Your hands fumble at the waistband, palms slick, vision swimming with nerves and need. You hook your fingers under the elastic and pull, unsure, but he lifts his hips to help and the gray cotton peels away easy as a wish. His cock springs free, heavy, flushed, the head slicked already, and you stare, breath burning in your throat.

He’s… god, he’s big.

You don’t even have enough data points to compare, but your brain still tries, and it short-circuits. Frank watches you with a patience that’s almost predatory, like he’s holding himself together with staples and baling wire. His hand covers yours, guiding it, and you curl your fingers delicately around the shaft. He hisses, jaw clenched, and the muscles in his thighs jump against your knees. Your thumb drags along the vein, and god, it’s hot, how responsive he is. How it makes him shudder.

“You’re a quick study,” Frank murmurs, voice gone low and rough. “Jesus.” He slides his hand up your thigh, kneading gently, and then reaches between them, thumb brushing over you where you’re soaked and swollen. The touch is electric, makes you jerk forward, grinding against his cock. The head bumps you clit, and you whimper, dizzy with it. He holds you by the hip, steadying, anchoring.

“You want to keep going, baby?” You nod, frantic and eager. He grins, but there’s an edge to it; it looks like he might snap in half from wanting her. You bite your bottom lip, face flushed. Frank’s watching your face hard.

“Hey. You okay?” You nod, eyes never leaving him. He’s so solid. So alive. The kind of body that absorbs bullets and wins bar fights and breaks things for a living. You want it inside you. That realization hits so hard it makes you whimper. Frank bites the inside of his cheek, hand gentle as it cups your jaw, pulling you back to him for a kiss. “Don’t gotta do anything you don’t want,” he rumbles. “Just say the word.” You shake your head.

“I want to. I just…” The words get stuck in your throat, so you scrape them out: “I don’t want to be bad at it.” Frank actually laughs, low, delighted.

“You’re not gonna be bad at anything, baby. Not with me.” He pulls you in and the kiss goes molten, needier, his hands anchoring your hips and rocking you down against his cock, bare now, the heat and velvet of it dizzying between your legs. He groans into your mouth, one hand finding your thigh and urging it higher, opening you more. The stretch is intense but perfect; you want to be wrecked by him, want to feel it for days. He strokes his thumb up and down your thigh and says, almost reverent,

“You’re dripping.” You hide your face in his neck, mortified, but his hand finds your hair and tugs you back, just a little, so you have to look at him. “Nothin’ to be nervous about,” he says softly. “This is supposed to feel good, sweetheart. Let me make it good for you.” You nod, not trusting your voice. Frank sucks in a harsh breath and lines himself up, guiding the head of his cock through your slick folds, rubbing slow circles right at your entrance. You see stars. Every part of you is wound so tight you feel like a strummed string.

“Gonna go slow, okay?” he murmurs. He’s all gentleness, which would piss you off if you weren’t so desperate for it. His cock pushes in, just the tip at first, and you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders for something to hold. There’s an ache, deep and unfamiliar, but it’s not bad. Not really. Frank watches your face, waiting for a flinch, for a stop, but you just nod and grind down, needing more. He exhales sharp, lets you take him another inch. Then another.

“There you go,” he says, voice a rumble in your chest, “you’re doing so good—shit, better than good, you’re doing fuckin’ amazing.” The pain is blinding. Stars explode behind your eyes, your eyes clenched shut. You’re clinging to him, shaking, every muscle locked up with that dizzying, too-much pressure. Your nails dig into his shoulders so hard he thinks he’ll feel them for days. The pain-pleasure blend is exquisite. Frank moves slow, gives you time, lets you adjust, but it’s still a stretch—he’s not small, and your body’s never done this before. He cups the back of your neck, thumb stroking over the spot just under your ear.

“Breathe, baby. That’s it. You’re doin’ perfect. All you gotta do is breathe for me.” You nod, jaw clenched, and force yourself to inhale. The ache eases a little, edges softening, and then you’re not so much impaled as full.

So, so full.

Like Frank is the only thing holding you to the world now, insides stretched almost to breaking, but in a way that makes you feel alive and forged. He’s not moving, just letting you get used to it. You try to shift, testing the fit, and holy shit, it’s… you have no words. It’s everything. His patience is infuriating and tender at once.

“Hurts?” he asks, all concern and hands.

“Yeah. But… not bad.” You burrow against him, seeking his pulse with your lips, needing the distraction. “Just—give me a second.” He does. He’d sit here all night if you needed, hold you open and safe, and never ask for more than you could give. But it doesn’t take long.

You’re greedy beneath the nerves, hips rolling forward for more before you’re halfway ready. Frank groans, the sound vibrating through her whole body, and drops his head back against the couch. His hands find your waist, bracing you, guiding every tentative movement. He’s letting you control this, but he’s not shy about what he wants, either; he helps you set a rhythm, each grind down taking him deeper, your slickness making it easier with every slow, careful stroke. Frank’s hands steady your hips, anchoring you to him, and every measured inch you take feels like the world dividing into before and after. Your thighs tremble, every muscle in yout legs a live wire; your knees dig into the worn cushion, and you’tr sure there will be bruises tomorrow, bruises shaped like Frank’s hands and your own hunger. You can’t imagine anything more perfect.

It’s all so much. Too much, and not enough. Every time you rocks your hips down, he lets you take what you want, but the stretch is so heavy it’s almost dizzying. Your breath comes out in little, shaky bursts, and your hands scrabble for purchase—his shoulders, the rough line of his jaw, the knotted muscle of his biceps. He likes that, you can tell by the way his whole body goes taut when she squeezes. You lose yourself in the mess of it, in the heat pressed chest-to-chest, in the pulse of his cock inside you, in the rasp of his voice when he says your name. You’re barely moving, just grinding yourself down, but it’s everything. Every inch you take feels like a little victory. Frank’s patience is a living thing, the tension in his arms shaking by the second, and the only way he lets it show is the bite of his fingers into you skin and the scruff of his jaw brushing you cheek.

“Attagirl,” he rumbles, voice shredded. “You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good.” You whimper, overwhelmed. The pain’s still there, but smaller now, a bright spot eclipsed by the full, shuddering pleasure carving up your spine. You shift your hips forward again and the angle changes and—oh—your thighs lock up with the shock of it. You gasp, head falling forward onto his shoulder, hair falling between your faces. Frank groans, arms squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe, and the sound is so raw, so animal, you want to cry. You try to move, to find a rhythm, but it’s awkward at first, your body still learning the mechanics. Frank seems to sense it, thumbs stroking slow circles into your hip bones, talking you through it with broken little instructions.

“Just like that,” he says, his hand guiding the small of your back. “Easy, sweetheart. Let me help you.” He moves with you, not against, and suddenly it clicks, your hips rolling forward and up, down, forward and up, and his cock—God, it’s so deep—rubs along something inside you that makes your whole body lock up. You cry out, surprised. Frank’s teeth find your shoulder, biting down just enough to ground you, and then he’s kissing the spot, like an apology.

“Good?” he grits out, barely holding on. You nod, but it’s not enough, so you rock down harder, desperate for more. The friction is brutal, the stretch never-ending, and you want it to last forever and end now, all at once. You grab his face in both hands and kisses him, messy, desperate, Your tears breaking loose and trailing down your nose onto his face. Frank's breath hitches, and for a second, you think you've broken him. His whole body goes rigid under you, and then he's kissing you again, harder this time, like he's trying to crawl inside you through your mouth. One of his hands slides up your back, fisting in your hair, holding you in place while the other grips your hip, guiding you into a rhythm that's less tentative and more purposeful.

"Fuck, baby," he pants against your lips. You try to laugh, but it comes out as a choked sob. You're overwhelmed—by the sensation, by the emotion, by the sheer Frankness of it all. He's everywhere. His scent, his taste, the feel of his scarred skin under your hands, the sound of his ragged breathing in your ear. It's a sensory overload that threatens to short-circuit your brain.

"Frank," you whimper, burying your face in his neck again. "I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he growls, cutting you off. He shifts his hips, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow and deliberate. The drag of him against your inner walls is exquisite, a perfect, friction-filled agony that makes your toes curl. "Feel that? That's you takin' me. That's you, sweetheart. All you." You nod, but it's a frantic, desperate motion. You're chasing something, a feeling building deep in your belly, a coil of heat that gets tighter with every thrust. Frank seems to sense it, his movements becoming a little more forceful, a little more confident. He's still letting you set the pace, but he's not just a passive participant anymore. He's an active force, a storm you're willingly riding.

"God, you're tight," he grits out, his voice strained. "So fuckin' tight for me. Squeezin' me so good." His words are filthy, but his tone is reverent, and the combination is heady. It makes you feel powerful, desired, like you're the only thing in the world that matters. You rock your hips faster, matching his rhythm, the awkwardness of before replaced by a desperate, primal need. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a vulgar, beautiful symphony that's all yours. Frank's hands are everywhere now—one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back to trace the line of your spine. He's mapping you, claiming you, and you've never felt more seen. Your head falls back and Frank lets out a low guttural groan, his hands squeezing your waist to help you grind against you harder.

The new angle is a revelation. It’s like he’s found a secret switch inside you, one you didn’t even know existed. The head of his cock drags against a spot so sensitive, so electric, that a sharp cry tears from your throat. Your back arches, a deep, involuntary curve that presses your breasts against his chest, and your hands fly from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Jesus,” Frank grunts, his voice a raw, ragged thing. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and intense, drinking in every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face. “Right there, huh? Found it.” He doesn’t sound surprised. He sounds like a hunter who’s finally cornered his prey. He does it again, a deliberate, grinding roll of his hips that sends a shockwave of pure, unadulterated bliss through your entire system.

Your answer is a broken moan, your hips moving on their own now, chasing that feeling, chasing him. The rhythm is frantic, messy, desperate. You’re no longer thinking, no longer worrying about being good at it or doing it right. You’re just feeling. Every nerve ending is on fire, every muscle in your body strung tight as a bowstring. The coil in your belly is winding tighter and tighter, a hot, heavy pressure that promises an explosion.

“Frank, Frank, Frank,” you chant his name like a prayer, a mantra, the only word your brain can still form. It’s a plea and a praise all at once.

“I got you, baby,” he growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of letting you lead. His hands are bruising on your hips now, his grip the only thing keeping you grounded as you start to lose yourself to the sensation. Your thighs are trembling, your whole body on fire as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair.

You've only ever come on your own fingers.

This.. This feels different.

The pressure building in your stomach is tighter, more feral.

It’s not a wave you can ride out. It’s a dam breaking. A fault line splitting open. The pressure in your stomach doesn't just crest; it detonates. A sharp, guttural cry is ripped from your throat as your entire body seizes, your back bowing so violently you’re surprised you don’t snap in two. Your inner walls clamp down on him, a rhythmic, pulsing grip that you have no control over, and the world dissolves into a blinding, white-hot static of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Your eyes go wide, at the feeling, thinking something is wrong.

"Oh my god, Frank- I - I might- I don't-"

"No, no, baby, hey, look at me." Frank's voice cuts through your panic, rough with his own impending release but sharp with command. His hands leave your hips, one flying up to cup your jaw, forcing your wide, terrified eyes to meet his. "It's not wrong. You're not wrong. You're just feelin' it. Let it happen. That's it, that's the good part." His thumb strokes over your cheekbone, a frantic, grounding motion.

"Don't fight it. Jesus Christ, don't you fuckin' fight it, just let go." Frank’s name is a shattered gasp on your lips as you shatter, your nails digging into his scalp, your body convulsing with the force of it. It’s endless, a series of crippling, ecstatic spasms that wrack you from the inside out, leaving you a trembling, boneless mess in his arms.

“Fuck,” Frank snarls, the sound torn from his own chest as your orgasm drags him over the edge with you. The tight, milking grip of your cunt is too much, a final, perfect torment. He buries himself to the hilt with a hoarse, desperate groan, his hips jerking as he pours himself into you. You feel the hot, pulsing rush of his release, a deep, primal claiming that seems to go on forever, his body shuddering against yours with the force of it. For a long, stretched-out moment, you’re both frozen, locked together in the eye of the storm. The only sounds are the frantic, ragged pulls of your breaths and the frantic hammering of his heart against your ribs. You’re limp, a dead weight in his lap, every muscle liquefied, your brain a blissful, static-filled void. You’ve never felt so completely wrecked. So completely whole.

Your entire body is spasming in his grip.

Frank’s breathing is still ragged against your throat, his arms locked around you like if he loosens his grip for even a second you’ll disappear. Your whole body trembles uncontrollably, tiny aftershocks rippling through your thighs and stomach, and he notices every single one.

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice wrecked soft now. “Easy, sweetheart. I got you.” His palm slides up and down your spine slowly, grounding you back into your body piece by piece. You’re still shaking so hard your teeth almost chatter. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this exposed before. Not physically.

Emotionally.

Frank presses a kiss to your damp temple, then another to your cheek, slower this time. Careful. Like he’s trying to soothe the very nerves he just set on fire.

“You okay?” he asks again quietly. You nod weakly against his shoulder.

“I think my soul left my body.” That earns a rough little laugh out of him. The sound vibrates warm against your skin.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Mine too.” Your muscles finally start unlocking enough for you to realize how boneless you’ve gone in his lap. Frank shifts carefully beneath you with a low grunt, one hand rubbing your thigh.

“C’mere,” he says softly. “Lemme clean you up.” You make a tiny noise of protest when he helps lift you off him. The sudden emptiness makes you whine before you can stop yourself, legs trembling violently the second your knees touch the mattress. Frank freezes like the sound nearly killed him.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasps. You bury your burning face in his shoulder immediately.

“Don’t.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t get it,” he says, sounding half tortured. “You keep makin’ noises like that and I’m gonna need another minute.”

“You are such a pig,” you mumble.

“Correct.” You hear the smile in his voice. Then he reaches for the discarded t-shirt on the floor beside the couch, gentle again as he wipes carefully between your thighs. You hiss softly at the sensitivity, instinctively trying to squirm away.

“I know,” he murmurs immediately. “I know. Sorry, baby.” The nickname settles warm in your chest now instead of frightening you. Frank glances down as he cleans you up. Then pauses. You notice the tiny streak of red a second later. Your stomach drops.

“Oh my God.” Frank looks up instantly.

“What?”

“There’s blood.” Panic climbs your throat so fast it makes your voice pitchy. “Frank, there’s— I—did I start my period? Oh my God, am I bleeding? Did something tear?” Your breathing starts speeding up again immediately. “Jesus Christ, am I dying?” For one single second he just stares at you. Then a startled laugh bursts out of him. Not mocking. Just genuinely caught off guard.

“Baby,” he says gently, trying very hard not to smile now. “You are not dyin’.” You blink at him, horrified.

“There’s blood!”

“Yeah.” He brushes his thumb soothingly against your knee. “That can happen your first time.” You stare.

“…what?” His expression softens instantly at your confusion.

“You were a virgin,” he says carefully. “Little bleeding’s normal sometimes. Especially ‘cause I got carried away.” Guilt flickers briefly across his face at that last part. “You ain’t hurt bad. Promise.” Your entire body floods with relief so intense you nearly flop sideways.

“Oh my God.” Frank finally chuckles properly now, rubbing a hand down his face. You hide your face against his shoulder with a groan of humiliation while Frank keeps quietly laughing above you, warm chest rumbling beneath your cheek.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you mutter.

“I ain’t makin’ fun.” Another tiny laugh immediately betrays him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“You’re awful.”

“Mm.” His hand slides lazily up and down your thigh. “Still alive though, right?” You smack weakly at his chest. Frank catches your wrist easily, bringing your knuckles to his mouth for one absentminded kiss before helping tug your shirt back down properly over your stomach. The tenderness of it nearly kills you more than the sex did. You let him guide you sideways across his lap once you’re dressed again, your legs draped over the couch cushions while he settles back with a long exhale. His fingers trace idle circles against the soft skin just above your knee, grounding and warm. The apartment feels different now.

Quieter. Softer. Like something huge shifted without either of you knowing how to name it yet. You stare at the wall for a long second before mumbling:

“I really thought I was bleeding internally.” That gets another laugh out of him, fuller this time. He drops his head briefly against yours.

“Baby, you work in medicine.”

“Not vagina medicine. And my parents never really taught me this stuff. They assumed Karen would.” Frank barks out an actual laugh at that, shoulders shaking beneath you. You can’t help smiling a little yourself.

“Fair point,” he admits. Silence settles again after that. Comfortable this time. His fingers never stop moving against your leg. Then quieter:

“You okay?” he asks again. Not physically. Everything. The emotion in his voice catches you off guard. You tilt your head enough to look up at him. Frank’s eyes are already on you, darker now without all the urgency from before. There’s still heat there, sure—but underneath it is something almost nervous. Like he’s waiting for you to regret this.

Regret him.

Your chest aches suddenly.

“I’m okay,” you say softly. His whole body loosens at that. Tiny. Almost invisible. But you feel it. Frank swallows once, gaze dropping briefly to where his hand rests on your thigh.

“I know tonight was a lot,” he says carefully. “And I know I probably shoulda slowed down more—”

“You did slow down.” His eyes flick back to yours.

“You were scared.”

“I was nervous,” you correct quietly. “Not scared of you.” That one lands somewhere deep. You see it happen in real time. Frank goes still. Your fingers slide up over the back of his hand, threading through his.

“I trusted you,” you admit. He stares at you like the words physically hurt him. Then he leans down and presses his forehead against yours, eyes closing.

“Christ,” he whispers roughly. One of his arms tightens around your waist. Not possessive. Protective. Careful with you in a way nobody ever has been before. “You got no idea what that means to me,” he says softly. Your face falls and you reach up, wincing at the pull in your legs. You reach up, wincing slightly as your body reminds you it’s still catching up to everything that just happened. Frank notices immediately—of course he does.

“Hey,” he says softly, catching your wrist before you can push yourself too far. “Easy. Don’t go doin’ that.”

“I’m fine,” you insist automatically. Frank gives you a look that says he does not believe a single word of that.

"Sweetheart, you just impaled yourself on my dick for your first time. I have reason to worry."

You freeze.

Then slowly turn your head to look at him.

“…you’re going to make me die of embarrassment after I survived everything else?”

Frank doesn’t even pretend to feel bad.

A faint, crooked grin tugs at his mouth. “Seems fair.”

You groan and drop your forehead against his chest, fully intending to disappear into him as a person.

He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling under you, and his hand immediately comes up to your hair—slower now, soothing instead of teasing.

“Hey,” he says again, softer. “I’m not makin’ fun of you.”

“Yes you are.”

“A little,” he admits.

You make a small, muffled sound of protest. Frank presses a kiss into the top of your head like he’s apologizing anyway.

"Y'know what this means, right baby ?" He asks, his hand trailing up and down your side.

"No. Enlighten me." He squeezes you into him as he leans over and reaches for his beer. He sits back down, groaning as he takes a sip and presses the cold bottle to the back of your neck.

"You're never fuckin' gettin' rid of me. I was your first time." He says. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, shut up, Frank." He laughs.

"No, no, i'm serious. I should get like.. a certificate. Frame it and put it up on the wall where everyone can see when they walk in-"

"Oh my god, Frank."

"—'Certificate of Deflowering: Awarded to Frank Castle for Services Rendered Above and Beyond the Call of Duty.'" You can't help it, a snort of laughter escapes you muffled against his chest. The cold bottle against your neck is a shock, but a pleasant one, grounding you in the ridiculous, wonderful reality of the moment.

"Oh my God," you groan, lifting your head just enough to glare at him. "You are the worst human being I have ever met."

"Yep," he says, popping the 'p' with absolute relish. He takes another swig of his beer, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "And the man who just took your virginity on a couch that's probably seen at least three separate gunfights. So, you know. We all have our complexities."

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