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summary: it's well known across the ptmc that park the shark doesn't like anyone, except for a younger resident he calls 'crybaby,' who also happens to be jack abbot's secret girlfriend. (4k)
characters: jack abbot / sunshine!fem!reader, mentor!brendon park, whitaker & evil whitaker
contents: secret relationship, jealousy, age gap, humor, insecure!jack, not proofread cw for medical inaccuracies, allusions to smut 18+ (MDNI), and r getting turned out that jack takes viagra
( NAVIGATION ) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( AO3 )
Crybaby.
Dr. Park was the first to call you by that name â or Park the Shark, they called him, on account of his strong features, and the fact that he looked like he could swallow you whole without blinking.Â
It was your first rotation at the PTMC, when you screwed up a simple tibia plate fixation. The reduction looked clean, in your defense, straight and stable. âYou got it?â the attending had asked. And youâd nodded as you adjusted your grip on the patientâs broken leg â only slightly.
The imaging still looked clear from your angle, as the drill went into the bone. But then you looked down, realizing you had forgotten to account for rotation, and found the patientâs foot slightly turned. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and then to your ass at the look Dr. Park gave you when his screw went in off-axis.Â
âEveryone take a good look!â heâd announced to the crowd of interns and med students watching after the fact. âIf anyone here was wondering how to invent a new way to misalign a fracture, congratulationsâ You just got a live demonstration.â
Your eyes stung with tears, until your attempt to blink them back had failed.Â
âIf this is all it takes to rile you up, wait until something actually goes wrong,â Dr. Park had scolded. âNow do you want me to go easy on you, or do you wanna get better, Crybaby?â
You stayed. And he made you better. But the nickname stuck.
Crybaby became a term of endearment, a symbol of how far youâd come since your interning days, and was shortened to Baby somewhere down the line. âBaby, take this patient down to CT for me, will you?â and âCut me an ET tube, Baby, six millimeters,â andâ
âGood luck getting that consult, baby,â Jack Abbot says from the opposite side of the exam room, with his strong arms crossed over his chest. The nickname sounds different spilling from his lips. It always has. âThe ORâs backed up with Westbridge patients. It could be hours before we get a room booked.â
âShe doesnât have hoursâŚâ you murmur under your breath, squeezing past Whitaker and Ogilvie as you part from your unconscious patient. âExcuse meâŚâ
âW-What are you doing?â the former boy stammers.
âGetting us a consultâŚâ you say, half-distracted, as you reach for the red telephone on the wall. You press the cool plastic to your ear and dial the ortho extension.
Jack watches attentively from the sidelines as you make the call upstairs.Â
âYou already sound like youâre gonna say no, so Iâm just gonna ask quickly,â you say. âI know, I knowâ Terrible timing. But we both know Iâm your favorite, so just hear me out.â
âFavoriteâŚ?â Ogilvie murmurs. âWaitâ Who is she calling?â
âPark the Shark,â Whitaker answers solemnly.
âOr as I like to call himâ Doctor Dick,â Jack says with a cynical smile. âOn account of him being a dick.â
Whitaker nods in concurrence. âTo everyone but her.âÂ
You hang up the phone and return to your spot at the patientâs bedside. âOrtho consultâs on its way,â you tell them, half-distracted, as you check the ketamine levels in her IV drip.
âHowâd you do that?â Ogilivie squints.
âI asked nicely,â you shrug.
Brendon Park comes into the emergency department barely five minutes later, and brings a tense air in with him that matches the unsmiling look on his narrow face. The way his dark blue eyes lock on you the second he walks in can only be described as sharklike.Â
âWhat do we got, Baby?â he asks you, and only you, utterly ignoring the other bodies in the room as he makes a beeline to your side. He smells of sea salt and sandalwood when he towers just behind you, standing several inches taller.
Jack swallows down the anger that swells suddenly in his throat like bile.
âTen-foot fall onto a metal fence,â you tell him. âTib-fib amputationâ Pretty clean cut.â
âSliced right through the bone like a guillotine,â Whitaker adds.
Park turns slowly, dark eyes zeroing in on the mulleted boy. âWas I talking to you?â
The boyâs cheeks flare red. He clears his throat. âUhâ No. No, sir.âÂ
âLet me see the X-ray,â the attending says to you, much softer in comparison, and follows you the short distance to the bulky machine in the corner.
âSee?â you hum. âNot too bad, right?â
His eyes flit from the x-ray to your hopeful gaze. The corner of his mouth flickers faintly upward as he nods once in response. âYeah. Should be pretty funâ Whereâs the leg?â
âDouble bagged on ice.â You motion across the room.Â
Whitaker watches the older man walk past him with an unblinking gaze. âI didnât know he smiledâŚâ he whispers incredulously under his breath.
âYeah, me neither, kid,â Jack mumbles, swaying softly in place, as he keeps his eyes locked on the two of you.Â
His jealousy is misplaced, but inevitable. Everyone had a certain soft spot for you, but he couldnât quite stand it from Park â the man who didnât seem to like anyone or anything but his work and you. Jack knows it makes a part of you feel special, you are special, but he wants to be the only one making you feel that way.
âTell him how we prepped the limb, Ogilivie,â you tell the MS3.
âOh, please, not me,â the curly-haired boy mumbles under his breath, looking instinctively to Whitaker for assistance. He swallows hard when Brendonâs dark eyes snap to his. âUhâ Sterile saline in the inner bag, ice water in the outer bag. No direct ice to skin contact.â
Park nods and turns away, unwrapping the severed leg on the table below. âGoodâŚâ
âThank you.â
âI wasnât talking about you,â the attending snaps. His eyes soften the second he turns to you. âLet me guessâ You wrapped this?â
âHowâd you know?â you grin.
âBecause itâs neat,â Park quips drily as he pulls the bluing limb from the plastic. âAnd I donât think Abbot suddenly developed fine motor skills.â
âStop flirting with me, Shark,â Jack monotones.
âAntibiotics?â the man squints.
âCefazolin and gent,â you answer. âAnd weâre already cleared her chest, abdomen, and pelvis.â
Park nods to himself, examining the severed leg with his gloved hands. âClean wound⌠No rush injury⌠Rapid transport timeâŚâ he mumbles to himself, visibly pleased in a way that makes your stomach do a backflip. âReplantation is a go. Iâll go ahead and book an OR, get it taken care of for you.â
âThanksâŚâ you say, smiling a little wider than you realize. Because ever since the day he embarrassed you in front of all your coworkers, youâve made it your personal mission to impress him.
âWhatâs the catch?â Jack quips from across the room. âYou already got a packed OR so⌠What? Youâre just doing us a favor out of the kindness of your heart?â
âHell, no,â Brendon scoffs. âBabyâs gonna scrub in with me.â
Your breath hitches in your throat. Youâre not sure whether to be happy or horrified, âcause you havenât done a surgery with him since you were an intern.
âHoly shitâ Really?â
âYeah. As long as you promise not to fuck up again,â Park deadpans, though thereâs something distinctly soft in his eyes as he quips, âAnd if you can keep your guard dog on a leash for a few hours.â
Your eyes turn instinctively to Jack. You find his features slightly hardened but mostly emotionless. He shrugs despite the distant searing in his chest.
âShe doesnât need my permission.â
âThen why are you glaring like Iâm about to steal your favorite toy, old man?â Brendon scoffs.
Jackâs eyes widen. His head swivels slowly over his shoulder, as if he were looking for someone standing behind him. âI know youâre not talking about me,â he quips drily.
âI would love the opportunity to scrub in, Dr. Sharkâ I mean, Park,â you stammer.
âAlright, then. Letâs go,â he nods, pulling off his gloves with a low pop as he storms back towards the door. âThe rest of you, irrigate the hell out of this with three liters.â
âWaitâ three liters?â Whitaker blurts.
Park glares. âOf saline, genius.â
âI⌠I knew you meant salineâŚâ
You stop short in the doorway with Jack at your side, right before you turn to follow Park into the elevator. You flash him a wide-eyed look full of hope and distant worry, âYouâre not mad at me, are you? For doing this with Shark?â
âI couldnât be,â Jack scoffs.
âWell, then, Iâll let you know how it goes later?â you murmur sheepishly, shifting on your feet like a shy child. âOver dinner?â
âSure,â he nods. âIâll take you somewhere nice. You know, to celebrate.â
He gives you a soft smile that fades the second youâve turned the corner. He feels the weight of his own insecurity sitting heavy on his chest. The notion that heâs much too old for you tends to follow him like a shadow, but it rears its mean, green, ugly head a little extra now.Â
âHeyâŚâ Robby greets, then slows his stride when he walks past the tree men leaving the exam room. âWhatâs the long faces for?â
Abbot flashes him an unamused gaze. âShark attack,â he deadpans.
Robby nods sympathetically. âYeah, thatâll do itâŚâ
The familiar chaos of the ED wraps around you like a blanket when you come down from the OR â the beeping monitors, the rolling stretchers, the hundred different conversations. It feels welcoming, in a strange sort of way; it fuels you in a way it hasnât in a long, long time. It feels less like youâre surviving your shift now, and more like you could solve every medical inquiry in this hospital if someone asked you to.Â
You feel ten feet tall and lighter than air as you weave your way through the crowded emergency department. Jack can see it from where he watches you at the workstation with an eagle-eyed stare. Your scrubs are creased from your hours in the OR; your eyes are as wild as the distant smile sitting crooked on the very edges of your mouth.Â
You plant yourself at the computer next to his, and Abbot pretends like he hasnât been waiting for you this whole time.
âHowâd it go?â he asks distantly, trying to be casual.
âGreat,â you nod with a proud smile. âLike really great. There was a twisted artery, and I was the only one who caught it. I got to reroute it all on my ownâ It was crazy.â
Jack feels himself smiling despite himself, basking in the rays of your sunshine disposition.
âReally?â he hums, nodding once. âGood job, baby.â
You couldnât possibly count how many times you hear that nickname on a daily basis, but itâs different coming from Jack. Itâs warmer, more familiar â makes your stomach do backflips like itâs the first time youâre hearing the word from his mouth. You go dizzy accordingly, as your fingers flit across the keyboard below.
âIâm just glad I didnât make a total fool of myself like I did the first time,â you scoff.
âYeah, me too,â a familiar voice quips from behind you.
You glance over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of Dr. Park as he appears suddenly behind you, dropping a file on the desk next to you mid-stride. His sea salt cologne pervades your senses instantly, clashing with Jackâs softer, muskier scent.
âI thought I heard the Jaws theme playingâŚâ the older man quips in a dry monotone.
âYou should be proud, Abbotâ Your resident was a star in surgery today,â Park says with a knowing smirk hinting at the very corners of his mouth, so subtle itâs barely there. âCanât wait for her to be my protĂŠgĂŠ in the OR someday.â
Jackâs frown deepens when the man claps him hard on the shoulder as he walks back for the elevator, though not without tossing a âlet me know when you need a letter of rec for that fellowship, Baby,â over his shoulder as he goes.Â
He watches the younger attending until he turns the corner, and looks back at you with his jaw clenched a little tighter than before. His chest sears at the distant smile on your face, as the flames of his jealousy burn white-hot behind his ribcageÂ
âWell,â Jack hums drily after a beat of silence. âYou guys are getting awfully close, arenât you?â
You scoff like itâs funny to you, because the thought of Park the Shark liking anyone is funny to you.
âWhat? No,â you laugh, then shrug at the unconvinced look Jack gives you in response. âHeâs just nice to me. Thatâs all.â
Jack lets out a sharp exhale through his nose in place of a laugh. He turns back to his computer and deadpans, âYeah. Because he likes you.â
You open your mouth to argue.
Jack beats you to the punch.Â
âAnd I donât blame him, either. I think itâd make me a hypocrite if I did.â
Your face flares as a red-hot heat crawls up your neck. Your adrenaline-induced confidence fades into something softer as you struggle suddenly to meet the older manâs gaze. You glance down at the chart Park left, unable to hide the small smile on your mouth when you peer at Jack again from beneath your lashes.
âWhere are we going for dinner after this again?â you wonder, half-sheepish.
The expression on his scruffy face shifts slightly, less tense but mischievous still. âWe arenât,â he says and logs out of the computer.
Your eyes narrow into a suspicious squint as you watch the man round the front desk. âWhat happened to âIâll take you somewhere nice?ââ
âYeahâŚâ Jack nods slowly, huffing sympathetically, as his hands curl around either end of his stethoscope. âI think weâre gonna miss that reservation, baby.â
Your stomach does a backflip.
By the time you make it to Jackâs place, the adrenaline has worn off just enough to leave you pleasantly exhausted.Â
He can feel it in your kiss, as you straddle him on his sunken couch in the middle of his dim living room â so quiet compared to the ER that it feels like stepping into a completely different world. You prop yourself over his lap with your palms cradling his silver scruff and lick into his parted mouth in slow, languid motions.Â
Youâve been at it for a while now. So long that Jack can feel your spit down to his chin. You could kiss him for hours and hours and never get bored â a testament to your youth, perhaps, because Jack doesnât think heâs made out with someone this long since he was in college.
But, for you, he keeps his head tipped back against the sofa and his mouth obediently parted, letting you kiss him however you want â for however long you want. His wide hands fidget with anticipation on either side of your bare thighs, from where your shirt rides up to your hips.Â
Youâd changed immediately into one of his old tees when you arrived, after a shower your body had been craving all day. You smell like his body wash and lotion as you sit on his lap, running your hands down his clothed chest like soft drops of summer rain.Â
Your fingers brush the tie in his dark navy sweatpants, and he tenses on instinct. You donât seem to notice, though, as you leave a trail of wet kisses down his scruffy neck.
âAre you gonna fuck me tonight?â you mumble into his pulse. ââS why we didnât go out for dinner tonight, isnât it? âCause Iâve been thinking about it all dayâŚâ
Jack goes dizzy at your words â at the otherwise innocent mouth they spill from. His stomach warms, and he jerks back from you before he means to; his mouth wet and rosy from the intensity of your kisses.
âYeah, fuckâ Yeah, I justâŚâ he trails off, though itâs more of a dismissal than a true affirmative. âI just gotta go to the bathroom real quick, yeah?â
âOkay,â you smile politely, unaware of his subdued panic that heâs learned to keep well-hidden. You slide off his lap and onto the other side of the couch. âSure.â
Jack rises from the sunken sofa with a low grunt in the back of his throat. Thereâs a slight limp in his step from where the long day has taken a toll on his prosthetic. âFeel free to make yourself at home while Iâm gone,â he tosses mindlessly over his shoulder, before he disappears down the dim hallway, making an immediate beeline for his lamplit bedroom.
Thereâs a bottle of sildenafil in his nightstand drawer, with only one pill taken out of it â which he thinks is somehow even more embarrassing. Heâd only taken it to masturbate once, after his SSRIs plummeted his libido and he was itching for a release after a long day.Â
The small orange bottle feels strangely heavy in his hands now, as he tips his head back to shake one of the tiny blue pills into his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. His adamâs apple bobs in his throat as he swallows it dry. The pills rattle faintly when he sets the bottle down beside him again.Â
He drops onto the edge of his bed, mattress squeaking under his weight. He rests his elbows on his knees and hunches over to dig his palms into his eyes. He tries to will himself hard for you, even though he knows that isnât exactly how that works.
He thinks of you â all young and pretty and waiting for him out there â wasting your youth on an old man who canât get hard to save his life. It leads to a cycle of self-hatred that prevents him from getting turned on at all. And itâs maddening. Â
The ajar door creaks quietly as you push it open without knocking.
You slink inside the dim bedroom and freeze at the sight of the man on the bed, like you werenât expecting to find him there. Jackâs head whips to your form across the room and spins when he finds your underwear peeking out from the bottom of his shirt â a soft orange color patterned with dark black bats, several months out of season.
âWhat are you doing?â he squints teasingly, blanketed half by shadow and half by golden lamplight.
âWhat are you doing?â you retort. âIâve been waiting out there forever.â
âItâs only been five minutes,â Jack scoffs.
âYeah, tell me about itâŚâ
Youâre all but skipping to his side then, bare feet padding along the thin carpet as you go. The thin fabric of his shirt swishes around your thighs when you walk to stand between his. When you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and duck down to kiss him, Jack tips his chin back and opens his mouth to welcome you â until the open drawer beside you catches your attention, as well as the orange pill bottle sitting on the corner of the nightstand, as if heâd just pulled it out of there.
âWhatâs thatâ?â
âNothing,â Jack answers, a little too quickly, and reaches less than casually around you to chuck the bottle into the drawer again. The pills rattle loudly in the quiet bedroom when he shoves it shut a second later.
He can tell by the look in your eyes that youâve already gotten a glimpse of the label. Your gaze is soft with sympathy and glittering with something wild that he canât quite place.
Jack says nothing for several long moments, and instead waits for your response.
âYou donât have to be embarrassedâŚâ you murmur when you catch his scruffy cheeks flaring a soft pink.
âIâm not embarrassed,â he blurts, less than convincingly, eyes shifting away and back again. âIâm just⌠selectively unthrilled with this timingâŚâ
Your nose scrunches at the shy smile you give him. His warm hands settle again on your waist while your fingers twist in the silver curls at the nape of his neck. Your eyes soften with something tender when you wonder shyly, âIs that why⌠Is that why you havenât wanted to⌠you know?â
âNo,â Jack answers instantly, then tilts his head to think for a moment. âWell, I meanâ a little, I guess, but⌠I only take âem âcause of my SSRIs, you know? Itâs not⌠Itâs not because of you or anything.â
âOkayâŚâ you nod and struggle to meet his gaze when you ask, âDo you know, like, how long it takes to kick in⌠or whatever?â
âLast time I tried, it took about twenty minutesââ
âLast time?â you echo with raised brows.
âI was just trying it out!â Jack defends with a crooked smile, slightly egged on by your misplaced jealousy after stewing in his own all day. âI was by myself when I took it, if that makes you feel any better.â
âIt does make me feel better, actuallyâŚâ
Jackâs light eyes narrow. âWhatâs that look for, huh?â
âNothinââŚâ you lilt quietly, with a poorly hidden smile. âI just⌠I think itâs kinda hot⌠Thatâs allâŚâ
His expression flickers in an instant â surprise first, suspicion second, then something darker third. A white-hot desire threads through the distant embarrassment still swimming in his stomach.
âYeah?â he presses lowly, with a voice like honey.
âYeahâŚâ you nod once, unable to take your eyes off his prying stare.Â
He studies you for another beat, before huffing a quiet laugh of disbelief.Â
âYouâre somethinâ else, baby, you know that?â he mumbles with a shake of his head, smoothing his calloused palms slowly up your bare thighs until they disappear under his shirt.
âI knowâŚâ you mutter on bated breath, trying and failing to be casual when you ask, âWhat do you wanna do then, huh? You know, for the next twenty minutes, anyway?â
You fight back a shiver when his thumb brushes over the center of the delicate mound peeking beneath the hem of your t-shirt, concealed by the thin cotton panties you wear.Â
Jack hears your breath catch in his throat. His darkened gaze flits from your Halloween-patterned underwear to your heavy eyes, now glazed over with a layer of honeyed desire.Â
summary: youâve been helping smurf and the boys with jobs for three years now. on your third year youâre sent to mexico, once again to prove your loyalty to the family. when you return, thereâs news. the addition that was missing inside the family when you first came to know them, pope cody.
notes: suggestive content, afab reader, mention of drugs and alchool, curse words, darren and reader hooked up before he came out as gay but now theyâre bff!! craig isnât in the group chat because him and reader have beef, age gap, based off season 2/3 of animal kingdom, minor spoilers.
Summary: You were early for a girls night out, and before your girls got to the bar, you saw a few of the nightcrawlers. Who were you not to say hello?
Warnings: smutty thoughts, Jack Abbot falls harder and deeper for u, reader has nipples and Jack loves them, jack is a freak to be honestâŚi really went off on a tangent here đł sorry thereâs not a lot of dialogue i couldnât find a way to fit it in
Pt. 2!
Based on this request! SlĂĄn go foill! đ Enjoy!
It was a freaky coincidence. Meeting your friends at the same bar all of the night shift ended up going to on the same night.
You know how it goes, early is 15 minutes early, on time is late, so you got to the bar 10 minutes before your friends would get there. You were busy ordering your drink when you spotted a few familiar faces all sat in a booth. It was the night shift!
You grabbed your martini and made your way over.
Jack was busy halfway into his beer, and almost choked into it when he saw it was you standing at the table.
âHey, fancy seeing you here,â Jack greeted with a friendly nod, really refraining from staring at you. You were hot in your scrubs, the mere thought of you in normal clothes were enough to make his dick twitch. Now he was seeing it in the flesh.
He did hear you talking, something about meeting a few friends for drinks, but he wasn't really listening. He usually loved your voice. He was more focused on trying not to stare at your body and more at your pretty face - which was equally dolled up, not too much to look false, but it certainly enhanced your beauty.
He glanced down at your dress again, trying to be subtle. It wasnât skimpy or too short, which Jack liked. It was actually a really pretty dress when you looked at it properly. Oh fuck, he could see your nipples. What did they look like under that dress? They looked perfect from where he was sat. Bite sized, pert, he wondered what colour they were, how would they feel in his mouth and in his hands? And he had an itching feeling to know how your tits looked naturally, none of this clothing in the way - who needs clothes, anyway?
This kind of thinking seriously made him feel like a dirty old man. But if the shoe fits..
âYou do look hot, I gotta say,â Parker smiles. She always seems like sheâs flirting, but that was just Parker. Now Jack isnât so sure. She better not be flirting. Is everyone looking at her like I am? That would make me less of a dirty old man, Jack thought to himself.
âThank youu!â You hum proudly, a bright smile on your pretty stained lips, doing a little twirl in your heels, âItâs a new dress, so hopefully I donât spill anything on myself.â
Jack wouldnât have thought that he had a thing for heels. But hell, you looked too good not to appreciate your heels, and how your glossy legs look in them, and how the slit of the dress stopped just below your hip. He felt like Roger Rabbit looking up at Jessica.
What he would give to run his calloused hands up those legs, to feel the smooth skin of your calves and inching up your soft thighs. He would treat you so goodâŚHeâd keep you satisfied every day. What if he got you to stay here instead of going out with your girlfriends? Got you right between himself and Shen, squished between the two, seeing that shy and uncomfortable expression on your face. What if he just crouched under the table and hid himself under the skirt of your dress? Thatâs where he really wanted to be.
Would you be wearing panties? God, no bra and no panties, heâd fucking die â You were always so sweet and modest at work, for all he knew you could be so dirty in your personal life â Jackâs hand itched at his thigh, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. He could smell your fancy perfume from here, wafting off of your hair and your dress. Was your body lotion scented too? Or maybe your legs and arms were always that shimmery and he was too dumb to notice it. He just knew youâd be so soft, like velvet.
Fuck, he needed to get a grip. He couldnât let this fester and grow. Itâd affect him at workâŚ
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a/n: i cannot be trusted in a room with frank langdon thank god he doesnât actually exist
summary: you get cock-drunk on langdon
warnings: smut, a lot of pet names
You canât help it, itâs not your fault. Itâs so close to your face, almost pointing at you. You try to keep your focus on the movie you begged Frank to watch with you on his day off, but your cheek is basically brushing his crotch at every slight turn of your face.
Frankâs apparently unfazed, the contact is so subtle he doesnât even catch it. But you do, you can even smell the detergent you washed his clothes with. He had asked you to lay on his thigh with the excuse that he wanted to be as close to you as possibile if he had to even bear to watch your trashy choice of a movie. His words, not yours.
Now, he was maybe too invested in the âtrashy movieâ to not realize his girlfriend was rubbing her cheek on his resting bulge âOh câmon with his sister?! How could he do that!â he protests shaking his head in disappointment âI really donât get it how can you like this?â he looks down at you, catching your distraction âMh?â you look up at him batting your eyelashes. Frank rolls his eyes, once again you were not paying attention to the movie you so insisted on watching. He still hasnât caught on what you were diverging your attention to.
âYou wanted to watch this so bad what has gotten into that big head of yours huh?â his finger taps above your temple and you swallow down a lump in your throat. Would it be embarrassing to admit how struck you were by the shape of his dick inside his trousers?
He stares down at you with an amused smile painting his lips âSpeak up sweetheartâ your cheeks heat up at the nickname, you still havenât gotten used to it.
âI was umh-â you rub your cheek against his crotch once again, but he doesnât seem to get the hint. He furrows both of his bushy eyebrows, still oblivious to the fact that youâd stick your head inside his underwear if you could.
You grunt frustrated and Frank laughs in response, the movieâs still running in the background, already forgotten âCanât read your mind yetâ heâs so cheeky with his smug smile and curious eyes scanning your face.
âItâs just- you were so close and i couldnât help but-â you pause hiding your face in his leg causing his muscles under it to tense for a moment âYou couldnât help but what?â he inquires âTo stare at itâ you admit sinking your teeth down your bottom lip, embarrassment flooding both of your cheeks.
Frankâs blue eyes widen a little at the confession and he chuckles giving your cheek a hard squeeze âThatâs it? You were staring at my dick?â he was always so open with sex, you guessed because he was a doctor and he was used to be this explicit. You could never get used to that and he loved the reactions heâd get out of you, thatâs the main reason he kept doing it.
âGod Frank you talk to your patients with that mouth?â Frank sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes amused, he is such a dork.
âIf you wanted it you could have just asked for it⌠It would have been definitely better than this thing you called a movieâ he says caressing your cheek. You giggle and stroke your face against the cotton of his pants, hitting the growing bulge under it. Frank looks down at your desperate attempt to feel him against your plump cheek, he canât help to groan at the sight of you.
âLet me help you with that sweetheartâ he pushes your face away gently, causing you to frown for a moment. He slides his pants down his ankles, his boxers hug the prominent shape inside them and you can feel yourself dampen at the sight.
You blink a few times, blatantly staring at his fat cock just hanging there before you. You lick your lips and lower back down, tracing the shape with your finger. He hisses at the feeling of your hand on him, his hips buckle into your touch âSo prettyâ you say looking up at him.
âJesusâ Frank throws his head back against the couch at your words. You stick your tongue out, wetting the fabric of his underwear at every stroke of your tongue, making him shiver under your touch. Youâre basically drooling over his lap by now, making out with the cotton of his boxers. You catch some leak of precum oozing out the fabric. Frank watches in awe everything you do.
He knew you were inexperienced when it came to sex, so seeing you take initiative for something really turned him on. You had a hard time showing your dirtier side, and seeing the way he had you so cock drunk was messing with his head. His underwear are a mess of spit and precum by now, his restrained length is aching for more direct attention from you.
He really, really tries not to take this moment into his own hands. He wants you to explore whatever youâre into at your own pace, but itâs truly taking everything he has to not fuck your face right now.
âHey sweetheartâŚyou want to let it out?â he holds onto the couchâs cushions for dear life, his knuckles slowly turning white, each breath he takes feels heavy âGet a taste?â it takes a few moments for you to register his words, too busy with your tongue to pay attention to him until he tugs at your hair. You blink out of your hazy state and nod âGood girlâ Frank smiles and presses a kiss to your lips, playing with your tongue while he frees his cock from his spit ruined underwear.
He pushes his body into the couch, pulling you on top of him as you keep making out. Itâs messy, spit trailing down your chin and his stubble as he kisses you hungrily holding the back of your head firmly to keep you in place.
When he pulls away it is only to stare at you, your hair messed up by his hands, the lip balm you previously had on is nowhere to be found, your mascara is starting to get smudged, your lips are swollen by his kisses. Frank pets your head and fills you with praises as he lowers you down to the floor, your knees hitting the cold wooden material with a thud.
âGo ahead,pupâ he says as he keeps staring at you, the way you gulp down at the sight of his bare cock. Itâs always a sight to him how you seem to be surprised by his size and girth, every single time. You lick your lips before spitting on the angry tip. You spread your saliva with your hand, giving him a nice and slow stroke, making his head bounce back against the cushions.
Itâs a matter of seconds before you wrap your warm mouth around him causing Frank to curse under his breath âFuckâ youâve become so goodâ he says as the muscle of your throat welcomes his length all the way in. His blue eyes squeeze,closing shut. He can feel your throat tighten, wrapping around his shaft and holding onto it. He feels like he could explode down your throat in any second now.
To be fair, it was his fault if you were so good at it, he had been throat training you for months now. He still remembers how you used to gag simply by the taste of it. But now? You were madly hungry for it. You feel the tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as you keep bobbing your head up and down his cock. Frank manages to open his eyes and wrap a hand around your hair, grasping it in a messy ponytail to not let it get in your way âYeah shitâ just like thatâ his hips shift up, he canât for the life of him be still right now.
You look up at him through your lashes and he groans when he makes eye contact with you. You sure look fucked up right now, so drunk on his cock thatâs making you almost dizzy âMy little girl⌠taking it so well arenât you?â you hum around his dick and he slams his hips up from the vibrations âTrained you so nicelyâfuckâ swallowing my dick all the way, my good girlâ
Your thighs rub together at his words, you can feel heat spreading down your legs as you keep sucking and licking every inch of him you can reach âThatâs itâ Frank pushes his hips up one more time before his cum floods your throat. You swallow his thick ropes of cum until thereâs nothing left of him. He breathes heavily, resting against the couch as you finish clean him up with your tongue.
âCome hereâ he pulls you on his lap and when you settle on it he licks his thumb to clean your face off his cum and smudged mascara âIâm so proudâ you smile at his praise, feeling pretty content yourself âNext time when you want it, just take itâ you laugh pushing his hand away from your face.
Summary: You were early for a girls night out, and before your girls got to the bar, you saw a few of the nightcrawlers. Who were you not to say hello?
Warnings: smutty thoughts, Jack Abbot falls harder and deeper for u, reader has nipples and Jack loves them, jack is a freak to be honestâŚi really went off on a tangent here đł sorry thereâs not a lot of dialogue i couldnât find a way to fit it in
Pt. 2!
Based on this request! SlĂĄn go foill! đ Enjoy!
It was a freaky coincidence. Meeting your friends at the same bar all of the night shift ended up going to on the same night.
You know how it goes, early is 15 minutes early, on time is late, so you got to the bar 10 minutes before your friends would get there. You were busy ordering your drink when you spotted a few familiar faces all sat in a booth. It was the night shift!
You grabbed your martini and made your way over.
Jack was busy halfway into his beer, and almost choked into it when he saw it was you standing at the table.
âHey, fancy seeing you here,â Jack greeted with a friendly nod, really refraining from staring at you. You were hot in your scrubs, the mere thought of you in normal clothes were enough to make his dick twitch. Now he was seeing it in the flesh.
He did hear you talking, something about meeting a few friends for drinks, but he wasn't really listening. He usually loved your voice. He was more focused on trying not to stare at your body and more at your pretty face - which was equally dolled up, not too much to look false, but it certainly enhanced your beauty.
He glanced down at your dress again, trying to be subtle. It wasnât skimpy or too short, which Jack liked. It was actually a really pretty dress when you looked at it properly. Oh fuck, he could see your nipples. What did they look like under that dress? They looked perfect from where he was sat. Bite sized, pert, he wondered what colour they were, how would they feel in his mouth and in his hands? And he had an itching feeling to know how your tits looked naturally, none of this clothing in the way - who needs clothes, anyway?
This kind of thinking seriously made him feel like a dirty old man. But if the shoe fits..
âYou do look hot, I gotta say,â Parker smiles. She always seems like sheâs flirting, but that was just Parker. Now Jack isnât so sure. She better not be flirting. Is everyone looking at her like I am? That would make me less of a dirty old man, Jack thought to himself.
âThank youu!â You hum proudly, a bright smile on your pretty stained lips, doing a little twirl in your heels, âItâs a new dress, so hopefully I donât spill anything on myself.â
Jack wouldnât have thought that he had a thing for heels. But hell, you looked too good not to appreciate your heels, and how your glossy legs look in them, and how the slit of the dress stopped just below your hip. He felt like Roger Rabbit looking up at Jessica.
What he would give to run his calloused hands up those legs, to feel the smooth skin of your calves and inching up your soft thighs. He would treat you so goodâŚHeâd keep you satisfied every day. What if he got you to stay here instead of going out with your girlfriends? Got you right between himself and Shen, squished between the two, seeing that shy and uncomfortable expression on your face. What if he just crouched under the table and hid himself under the skirt of your dress? Thatâs where he really wanted to be.
Would you be wearing panties? God, no bra and no panties, heâd fucking die â You were always so sweet and modest at work, for all he knew you could be so dirty in your personal life â Jackâs hand itched at his thigh, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. He could smell your fancy perfume from here, wafting off of your hair and your dress. Was your body lotion scented too? Or maybe your legs and arms were always that shimmery and he was too dumb to notice it. He just knew youâd be so soft, like velvet.
Fuck, he needed to get a grip. He couldnât let this fester and grow. Itâd affect him at workâŚ
iâm so obsessed with this man itâs getting out of control. i need every version of him; dbf, bfâs dad, professor, neighbor, pervy doctor, dom, sub, all of them. i need an age gap with this man where i tease tf out of him. give me those sweet puppy eyes baby and watch what happens.
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