just a lil blurb with dbf!jack abbot where you accidentally send him a spicy picture NSFW + MDNI! 18+ ONLY!
You should break up with your boyfriend. You are very aware of this. He really, really, really pisses you off. It was fine in college, but now you're graduated; his frat boy antics won't cut it. You're trying to put in a good impression at work, meanwhile, he is out partying almost every night.
You're working as a nurse in PTMC. Your dad's best friend has managed to put in a good word for you. Jack Abbot has always had your back. But your stupid fucking boyfriend, Josh, keeps blowing up your phone during work hours, he even shows up at your work unannounced. You have to explain to him that you can't just take off in the middle of a shift.
You're glad you're not working in the Emergency Department because you know Jack would have some choice words about your beau.
"Will you make sure to send the pictures of the barbecue pit to Jack?" your dad asks as soon as you're in the door from work.
"Huh?" you ask as you throw your bag at the door.
"Remember, he's coming over this weekend to help me fix the backyard?" he says.
Since your mum died, your dad had been on a mission to completely overhaul your house. Jack Abbot, who was also a widower, had been a great source of comfort to him. They'd grown closer over the last few years and Jack was almost always over at yours. Or your dad was at his.
And while your boyfriend was always pressuring you to move in with him, you weren't ready to leave your dad on his own. He still needed the company.
"You wanna watch a movie?" you suggest as you shuffle around the kitchen.
"You should get some rest kid, your eyes are falling out of your head," your dad responds.
You look at your phone as you start getting ready for a shower.
You scroll through your notifications until you get to your text messages.
Joshā¤: can u send pics ???
You roll your eyes and see the text under it
Jack Abbot: Hey sweetheart, your dad said you'd send pictures of the BBQ? When you have a second, can you send them to me, just so I know what tools to bring this weekend? Thanks, Jack.
You sigh take a picture of yourself in the mirror before you slip into the shower and send it quickly before firing off the picture of the barbecue and the back garden.
Jack Abbot has a few days off and he's agreed to help his friend work on his garden. Keeps them both busy. It's good for grief. Jack has worked through his grief, it's been a long time since his wife died. And while it still hurts, he is ready to move on.
And he knows very well he shouldn't be looking at his best friend's daughter the way he does. He loves spending time with you. Loves making you laugh. Loves how happy you got when he offered to put in a good word with the hospital to get you a position in PTMC.
He's glad the opening was in Orthopaedics and not in the ED. He's not sure if he could handle working with you day in and day out.
But he's old enough to be your father so he doesn't make a move. He's not sure he even knows how to make a move anymore. It's been so long.
He's trying to watch a nature documentary when he hears his phone go off. You've responded to his text with a picture. He stands up, ready to go out to his garage to grab the tools he needs to help. But when he opens the message he realises it's not a picture of the back garden.
No it's a picture of you, completely naked in your bathroom mirror.
Jack Abbot knows he should delete it. But he can't bring himself to. He can feel his cock stir in his sweatpants. He needs to calm himself down. He shouldn't.
You've finished your shower, moisturising your body as you sit on your bed. You hear your phone buzz and look down.
Joshā¤: haha very funny
Joshā¤: can you send actual pics not of your garden
Joshā¤: is this like some euphemism?
Joshā¤: come onnnnnnnnnnn...nudes plz?
You look at your phone, scrolling up and realising what pictures you sent to your boyfriend.
You scramble to swap to the text thread with Jack.
Jack Abbot: I don't think that message was meant for me.
jack had a habit of staring, you didnāt know if it was because of his age, maybe because he was older it made him more mature in that sense, but you had to admit sometimes those icy blue eyes pierced through you in a way that made your stomach flutter. anytime you spoke, he would maintain such an intense focus on you itās like the rest of the world would disappeared for him. it made you feel seen, never once did you feel like your words were background noise for him, but my god could it be intimidating. you could be talking about anything inconsequential, about groceries, petty gossip between your friend group, whether you liked the show playing on his television, and somehow, every time you found yourself meeting his gaze as if you were detailing something important.
one of his favorite forms of eye contact is when your seated prettily over his hips, straddling him with that shaky confidence of yours while his dick pushes apart your warm, pillowy, walls. watching your eyes shimmer with bliss while his hands grip your hips to ground youāyouāre so pretty like this, one of his favorite sights, though he likes to tease. whenever your pretty eyes shut, or focus on anything other than him, he pulls you back into reality. ādonāt look away, sweetheart,ā he would murmur, following your line of sight. but if you didnāt look back at him fast enough, his hand would come to your jaw, forcing you meet his gaze.
youād squirm, embarrassed under his sight, which would only amuse him. ācāmon, baby, since when did you become so shy?ā he would tease, lips curving playfully before tugging you closer, pressing his lips against your own to get rid of those shy walls you put up. jack knows you better than anyone, and he knows he didnāt fall for a shy girl, so heāll be damned if you acted like one.
head empty, no thoughts, just sneaking around ptmc with jack before youāre out about your relationshipā¦
your relationship was a slow and blooming thing. youād been the new nurse at ptmc and quickly snatched up the night shift job opening after the horrors at your last job at westbridge hospital, figuring that if you had to start over somewhere, you might as well do it when most of the hospital was asleep.
it was supposed to be simple: keep your head down, do your job, make it through the shift, and go home.
but then there was jack.
at first, heād just been the chief attending you kept running into during the strange hours of the night, usually somewhere near the nursesā station and trauma rooms during free moments between patients to chart. then came the conversations, the lingering at the nursesā station, and eventually the realization that youād started looking forward to seeing him every night shift more than you probably should.
āhowās my favorite nurse?ā jack says, sliding up to the nurseās station beside you where youāre busy reading a patientās chart for their medication schedule.
ācareful. if lena hears you, i think sheāll get offended,ā you murmur between slightly pouted lips, glancing up at him briefly through your lashes just to shoot him a playful deadpan.
jack hums in thought, glancing around the station. āwell, sheās not around so no harm, no foul,ā he shrugs. āand itās true,ā he adds, leaning a little closer to you to murmur conspiratorially, playfully secretive.
his casual way of being friendly ā or flirty, as your brain liked to take it ā made your stomach bubble with butterflies youād thought had retired in junior high.
āyou have charts to sign off on, dr. abbot,ā you state, gesturing to the tablet in his hand, and trying to hide the way your cheeks flushed.
āand you have meds to administer, sweetheart,ā he drawls, tapping your own chart.
sweetheart.
does he realize what that does to you? he must. especially with how his mouth tugs upward into an amused smile.
you quickly spin on your heels, baby blue sneakers squeaking against linoleum floors to start making your way to the patientās room, hiding your flustered state from him. by the way he chuckles after you, you presume he saw it anyway.
you hadnāt planned on developing a crush on jack abbot. come on. not only was he inappropriately older than you by some standards, he was still the chief attending of the night shift. you had no business crushing on an hr nightmare.
but there you were anyway, with your flushed cheeks, frazzled expression and slightly stammering words depending on whatever flattering remark he threw at you.
he was handsome after allā¦
what you didnāt realize was he was having the same mental turmoil as you. because there you were with your bright, wide-eyed beaming eyes and matching smile, evidence of how early you were in the career that had began beating him down years prior. there you were in your cute scrubs, matching sneakers and undershirts that remind him shit, sheās youngā¦ but so pretty.
he couldnāt help himself with the playful teases that went past the line of flirting. not when it made your cheeks flush like that every time and made you avoid eye contact with him.
nor could he help himself when you just so happened to choose to have dinner when he did, sliding into the seat in front of you in the break room.
āwhatās for dinner tonight, sweet pea?ā jack asks every time, glancing at your pink tupperware lid before back at you standing beside the microwave, waiting for your food to heat.
he always picked something up from the diner he frequented for breakfasts after his shift, having been a regular customer for years now. it was always the same: turkey, bacon, lettuce and tomato with mayo spread on wheat bread.
you, though, seemed to pack something different every shift. sometimes homemade warm food that has his stomach grumbling from the mere smell after youāve heated it in the microwave, sometimes a healthy salad, sometimes a sandwich. the list goes on.
āpasta with pesto sauce,ā you chirp sweetly, used to this routine with jack since you started sharing dinner breaks. you tilt your microwave-safe tupperware in his direction as you walk back over, placing the steaming bowl onto the table and taking the seat across his.
he looks down at the food as you proudly present your craftsmanship. ālooks delicious, hon,ā he murmurs, lip twitching up into a half smile at your pride.
āwant some?ā you ask, already pulling out an extra fork. youād noticed the way he brought the same thing every time you shared a shift and over time, started bringing extra utensils under the rouse of just in case you accidentally dropped one on the floor.
āoh, donāt worry about me, iām allāā
ātry it.ā you cut him off, holding a fork full of pasta to his lips, barely grazing them while looking expectantly at him from across the table.
and because he can never deny those big, wide eyes of yours, he leans forward and lets you feed him a big bite.
āwell?ā you ask when he pulls away, placing the fork down and trading it for yours to have a bite of your own.
āitās delicious as always,ā he answers after humming in delight at the taste. he wonders if you always cook at home like this. if you have someone to cook for. the thought makes an uncomfortable jealously settle behind his ribs.
āiāll bring you your own plate tomorrow then.ā you beam, cheeks flushed unabashedly this time, because you canāt help how a compliment about your food makes you feel.
several lunch breaks later, conversations dip into the territory of outside the hospital. more so, what you do outside the hospital. hobbies, what you like, where you eat. it shouldnāt come as a surprise (but still does) when he dangles a bait of āwell, whatās a restaurant you havenāt tried but want to?ā
you unknowingly take the bait because, hey, maybe he needs some recommendations?
instead, he asks you to go there. with him. by yourselves.
oh. oh!
so you find yourself on a date with dr. jack abbot. and then another one. and another. before you know it, youāre actually dating. heās driving you home after your shifts, delivering flowers to your apartment door, spending days off together, the whole shebang.
and because ptmc was ptmc, where everybody seemed to know everybody elseās business within approximately twelve minutes (gotta thank perlah and princess for that), you both decided to keep it to yourselves for a little while.
which was how you ended up sneaking through the hospital like two teenagers who had absolutely no business being together.
an hr nightmare.
but it sure as hell was fun.
ājack,ā you whisper through a breathy laugh, glancing down the empty hallway before he quickly pulls you into a secluded corner when footsteps sounded from around the corner.
he places a finger on your lips, signaling your silence as two providers walked by, none the wiser of the attending and nurse hiding in a corner. when the squeaks of their shoes becomes faded, he lifts his finger of your lips to cradle your jaw instead.
āno on-call room,ā he murmurs solemnly, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your cheek.
you blink up at him, trying very hard not to laugh at the pout on his face. ātragic.ā
āi know,ā he agrees with a frown. that doesnāt stop him from swooping down to kiss you, lips molding to yours like fitting two puzzle pieces.
you squeak against his lips, hands clutching the front of his scrub top as your eyes flutter closed, shivering at the way his hand cradling your jaw tilts your head back, angling the kiss deeper, while the other hand slides around your waist, pressing you closer to him.
had it not been for his pager beeping, your legs wouldāve been reduced to jelly, buckling beneath you.
he groans against your mouth before begrudgingly pulling away, haphazardly pulling his pager out to check it.
āitās a trauma rolling in,ā he mutters, schooling his expression back to serious-doctor mode. āthey need all hands on deck.ā he leans in to peck your lips once more. āiāll catch you later, sweetheart.ā he rushes off, offering a crooked smile over his shoulder.
and on the days there is an on-call room available? wellā¦
āj-jack our shift starts in five minutes!ā you squeal, head pressed against whatever cheap mattress the hospital provided atop the springy bed frame in the on-call room.
āi know, i know ā mmmph! ā but they can survive a few minutes without us,ā he grunts from behind you.
he has you pinned down, head and chest pressed to the bed while holding your ass up in his thick calloused hands. he pounds his thick cock into you from behind, watching it disappear inside your fluttering pussy with every thrust forward.
you mewl as he drives into you, your fists clutching the sheets of the bed to steady yourself.
āthatās a good girl, takinā me all the way,ā he growls lowly, watching with awe at how you practically welcome him in with every thrust forward. āhowās it feel? tell your jackie,ā he adds, squeezing the flesh of your ass hard enough thereāll probably be marks by the end of your shift.
āso full, jackie!ā you respond with a whine, pushing your hips back against his, the plap-plap-plaps of your bodies slapping against each others bouncing off the walls of the room.
he grins, though you canāt see, so he expresses his amusement verbally. āyeah, i think my baby likes getting fucked at work.ā
that makes your belly clench with delicious shame and you canāt ever deny it. not when heās plowing into you to the point of seeing stars.
āām close, jackie! iām about toāā you pant, voice being reduced to breathy moans.
jack is nothing but a giver, never a taker (no matter how much you beg). he always prioritizes your pleasure, even when heās the one more pent up. so, itās no surprise when he reaches a hand around you and between your legs to rub that sweet little bundle of nerves thatās been neglected thus far.
āgo on, honey. iāll catch you,ā he murmurs, now leaning his body against yours to speak directly into your ear. āiām close, too,ā he adds.
his words always egg you on the best, so with that and his added fingers against your clit, itās only obvious it takes you two more thrust from him that has you cunt clenching around his cock in waves as you tip over the edge.
your vision goes white as you orgasm, thighs trembling as he rides it out and he follows you soon after, pumping you with hot ropes of cum coating your insides and inner walls.
your twitching thighs collapse onto the bed, knees no longer holding your ass up.
āshit, went too far?ā jack murmurs apologetically at your fucked out state, body twitching in aftershocks.
āneed a few minutes,ā you murmur blearily against the bed, turning your head to glance at him over your shoulder with a smile. ābut ām okay.ā
he watches you fondly, already reaching for your panties and scrub bottoms from the floor, slipping them back on you. āiāll tell robby at handoff that youāve got an upset stomach,ā he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple before reaching for his own briefs and scrub bottoms pooled at his ankles to pull up.
āheās gonna catch on,ā you mumble, rolling over to sit up, and wiping the sweat from your forehead. you lean over to slip on your sneakers. āthat, or admit me. this is my fourth stomach ache this month.ā
jack chuckles as you stand up on slightly wobbly legs, and wraps his arms loosely around your hips to support you, gently patting your ass. ātheyāre bound to found out one day,ā he reminds you, kissing your nose ā a sweet contrast from the way he just manhandled you.
you lean in this embrace, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek to his chest, muscular even through his scrubs. ātrue. but i would prefer it not be right after youāve fucked me in an on-call room.ā
Summary: In which your neighbor, Jack Abbot, shows the many ways in which heās exactly what you need. Also, the many ways in which you accidentally mirror that and show him all the ways you're all he wants and more.
Content: fluff, age gap, neighbor!Jack, reader is mid-to-late twenties, female reader, slow burn but not really, cute, mutual attraction, eventual angst, eventual smut (shhh,) pet names/nicknames for reader, little to no y/n use
Authorās note: Alright, so, the first fanfic was okay; I had two IRLās read it, and they liked it, so here I am again mwahaha. I think Iām going to make this a series, especially because itād just be so cute to have it with each fic having a different time reader and Jack mirror each other and match each otherās freak. I didn't edit or reread it because I get embarrassed reading my own work so let me know if thereās any errors. Also if anyone knows how to make cute banners and do all the cute formatting, PLEASE TEACH ME.
Word Count: 3.7k
Thanks,
Juuls xx
You had just finished getting your masterās in museum studies when you moved to Pittsburgh to work your dream job as a museum educator at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. You were lucky to come from quite a well off family, and had been able to purchase a nice townhouse close to where you work. It was two stories, so a little big for just you, but you were ready to make it work. Your parents bought it fully furnished but you still moved in some new furniture and your own personal belongings, which helped you to meet your new handsome neighbor next door.
You were bringing in some boxes from the car, a little stubborn about not making too many trips, as you had stacked up at least three boxes, blindly trying to find your way to the door when he called out to you.
āWoah there doll, thatās quite a lot of boxes,ā he said, still not able to see his face due to them blocking your view, but knowing immediately heās attractive by how deep and raspy his voice was when he spoke (and also the way he called you doll.) āLet me help you with that,ā he says, taking the top two boxes from your hands.
You almost dropped the box in your hands when you finally saw him standing there. Your eyes rake over his body slowly. First looking at his gray curls shining in the sun, perfectly set yet damp from sweat, then moving down to his arms, freckled and tanned softly, his black short sleeve tight around them. Going further down, his legs in basketball shorts, one leg thick and strong, the other, a beautiful prosthetic. Your eyes go back up to his hands, oh, his very big, very strong, freckled hands holding up your boxes of trinkets like it's nothing.
You finally look back up to his hazel eyes, only to see him smirking at you, sweat slightly on his lightly freckled face. He mustāve been on a run, you thought, finally snapping out of it when you notice the smirk.Ā
āOh! Sorry, I- thank you so much. Yeah, um, just follow me inside,ā you say, smiling as you walk through your front door, placing the box on the couch with your neighbor right behind you chuckling to himself as he sets the boxes right next to yours.
You turn to face him, smiling brightly and extending a hand. āHi.ā you say, breathing out at the same time as you introduce yourself.
The handsome neighbor smiles back softly, holding eye contact in a way youāve never seen before, as he introduces himself. āIām Jack. Jack Abbot. Nice to meet you sweetheart,ā He says, shaking your hand while you try your best to maintain your composure holding his rough and calloused hand. āWhat brings you to Pittsburgh?ā
You blush slightly at eye contact, trying to look away but notice the way he follows your gaze, forcing you to look back at him. āRight, well, Iām new to the area. I actually grew up on the West Coast so this is a new change for me but it's an exciting one,ā you say, genuine enthusiasm in your voice that made both you and Jack smile a little more. āI got a job as a museum educator at the Carnegie Museum and I was willing to relocate, so, here I am.ā You finish that sentence by gesturing to yourself with a little flourish, tilting your head to the side a little bit as well.
āThatās quite a big move for a young woman such as yourself,ā Jack says, looking at you with a new sense of respect and admiration, āIāve lived here my whole life, minus when I served in the Army. I work at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center right there near your job.āĀ
You nod, not shocked that heās a veteran with the way he carries himself, however it does intrigue you to want to learn more about Jack and his life. āWell, looks like we both live a little more on the adventurous side,ā you tease, smirking at him, āand my youth just makes me extra capable of such a new journey and much more,ā you assure him. āThank you again for helping with the boxes, I was being a little stubborn about not wanting to make another trip,ā you admit, smiling sheepishly as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
āOh, I can tell youāre trouble,ā Jack says, grinning back at you and your confidence, āIt was no problem doll, always willing to help a pretty girl like you.ā He winks when he finishes that sentiment, and you try your best not to let your knees buckle when he does. āIf you need any help with anything, feel free to give me a shout, okay?ā Jack says, bending his knees a little, forcing you to make eye contact again as you look down to hide your blush.
You look up and smile at him, āThat would be great, thank you Jack,ā you reply, not noticing the way his breath hitches at your voice saying his name. āItās the same for you as well,ā you say, making an awkward gesture between the two of you as though it were an exchange.Ā
Jack smiles and nods, turning to leave when you shout out. āOh wait,ā you say, reaching for your phone, āCan I get your number? In case of an emergency?āĀ
He takes your phone without a second thought, typing in his number when he says, āOr you could just text me, you know, for anything. Iām your man.ā He winks as he hands you back your phone with a confident smile before nodding once more and walking away. āMake sure to text me so I have your number,ā he shouts from over his shoulder, closing your door on his way out.Ā
And that was the start of Jack showing you just how capable he was of being your man.
The next time you saw Jack was about two weeks later. You were adjusting to your new home and job and finally felt a bit of normalcy in your life so you decided to treat yourself to your favorite hobby, baking.Ā
You had decided you were going to make banana bread and were almost done mixing everything together when you realized you were about two eggs short for your recipe since you were making double to bring to Jack later as a late thank you gift.Ā
You had spoken to him a couple of times since your first interaction, texting about silly things like when the garbage truck came and when to watch out for street sweeping, before starting to talk about small things such as how your day had been.
Jack had helped you get adjusted to Pittsburgh and was always quick to respond and talk to you whenever you texted, even bringing you flowers and a beautiful blue vase to put them in for your coffee table as a house warming gift. He made you smile everyday so you thought youād show your thanks in the way you know best, by baking him a delicious treat. He had mentioned loving banana bread once during your many conversations, when you had asked what his favorite dessert is, to which you said that was an āold-manā answer, and when he corrected you saying āexperienced manā was his preferred term, you couldnāt help but feel the small heat rise in your chest and in between your legs.
Ā It was a lot of getting to know each other through the screen, which is how you came to learn about his working nights as the lead attending of the trauma room that now had you doubting whether you should be standing in front of his door after knocking to see if he could possibly have two eggs you could steal.Ā
It takes him a minute or two to come to the door, probably because of his prosthetic, you thought to yourself. You immediately wished you could take back the knock when Jack opens the door with the most exhausted expression on his face. He looked breathtaking as his hair was messy in a sleepless way, his face softer than usual as he adjusts to being awake, and his chest being out in the open with gray sweatpants to compliment. His very defined, very freckled chest with a small trail of hair that leads down to the hem of his sweats that makes you wish you could just walk in and follow its path.
Oh, Iām definitely going to be thinking about this look for a long time, you think to yourself as you finally look back up at him to see him shaking away his tired expression in exchange for a smile.Ā
āHey doll, whatās up? Something wrong?āĀ He yawns as he speaks, rolling his head around his shoulders before looking back down at you with his tall 6ā3 figure.Ā Ā
You feel bad as you offer him a sad smile, āHey Jack, Iām sorry to bother. I completely forgot you work nights,ā you say, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and adjusting your ponytail in a nervous habit.Ā
āItās no problem, beautiful, todayās my day off. I wouldāve been waking up soon anyways,ā Jack assures you, smiling at you as he scans your body, noticing the red apron youāre wearing, as well as the matching black tank top and sweatpants underneath it that compliment your figure perfectly. āYou cooking?ā he asks, tilting his body to lean on the doorway.
A blush spreads across your face when you notice him scanning your body, although you were confident in yourself and your figure, you couldnāt help it when someone as handsome as Jack looked at you like that. You straighten up a little as you speak.
āBaking. Thatās why I came over actually. Iām two eggs short,ā you say, smiling at him, āDo you mind if I steal some from you?āĀ
Jack chuckles as he stands up straight, opening the door wider. āOf course, weāve got the same layout so you know where the kitchen is,ā he says, stepping aside to let you in.
You smile and nod, shooting a quick thank you as you step inside, taking a look around as you walk to the kitchen. His place looks just as youād think it would with large bookshelves that surround his tv, contents a mix of dvdās, vinyls, cds, and books. His home gives you a similar feeling to a dark academia vibe as you walk past photos of him, his friends, and a wedding picture.Ā
You pause as he continues walking to the kitchen, staring at the photos that line the walls a little more carefully. You knew Jack was widowed, he told you about it after a week of texting back and forth and quick helloās and goodbyeās as you both left and came from work at opposite times. You liked looking at this small glimpse of Jackās life, especially when it includes seeing such a bright smile on his face in each picture.
Finally pulling yourself away, you walk into the kitchen while Jack stands in front of his coffee kettle, pouring himself some as you walk up to his fridge. āIām only taking two, feel free to bill me,ā you joke, smiling at him as you stand back up straight after grabbing the eggs.
Jack rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his coffee, a small smirk on his mouth. āYeah, yeah. I think you know damn well I donāt need any help with money.ā He says it so confidently, it takes you aback for a moment, your attraction to him growing as he looks at you with a face that shows he means it.Ā
You came from a well-off family but they were all very humble about it. When you moved out, you didnāt really want help but accepted it anyway, saying that once you settled down, youād want to be more independent but still grateful for their help.Ā
Yet the way Jack just confidently showed how comfortable he is attracted a whole different side of you you didn't know was possible. You already knew you were into older guys before meeting Jack, having had a crush on one too many professors throughout your time at university as well as your many celebrity crushes that were twice your age, but Jack was really solidifying this fact with every single thing he does.
You smile and roll your eyes as well, leaning on his counter, āOh? Is that right? Guess Iāll just have to keep stealing your groceries in small doses until my fridge is stocked,ā you joked before standing back up straight. āThanks for the eggs Jack, enjoy your day off,ā you say, waving bye and showing yourself out. He shoots his fingers out from his mug as his way of saying goodbye, his other arm wrapped around his chest, as he watches you leave with a content focus on the way your hips swayed as you walked out.Ā
Jack said it already, but he knew you were trouble the moment he saw you and felt his heart rate pick right back up after his run. He felt like a school boy the way the excitement rose in his chest when he watched you walk to your car to grab the final boxes for your house, and then laughed like one when you tried carrying the last three in one try. He just had to talk to you and what better way than to show up as a knight in shining armor and helping you carry those final ones in.
He didnāt expect your voice to be so alluring, confident and strong even when obviously nervous, and he definitely didnāt expect your confidence to kick in quickly after getting flustered, loving the way you quipped back at him without a second thought. It was as if you not only moved into your home, but his mind with the way you lingered as he went back home that day, checking his phone for twenty minutes before your text finally came through. The smile that broke out on his face and the breath he let out were something he hadnāt done in a long time as he quickly texted back and kept doing so for the past two weeks.
So when you showed up at his doorstep, with your red apron covered in flour and your soft smile looking up at him, of course he shoved down the annoyed tone he was about to give to whoever denied his beauty sleep, instead changing it to his sultry morning voice as he opened the door a little wider to let you in.Ā
He liked seeing you take in his space, observing everything, and he decided to give you both a minute when he retreated to the kitchen to take a breath and brew a pot of coffee. He definitely wasnāt upset at you being the first thing he saw when he woke up, but wow, he needed a minute to adjust to your beauty when it was that unexpected. He shook his head at the thought as he poured his coffee, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth.
When you finally came into the kitchen, Jack had barely regained his composure. He loved how quick you were to joke around but also wanted you to know he wasnāt just some guy. He was a man, hopefully a man that could be yours someday, but until then, he at least wanted to prove he was a man. So when he confidently hinted at his comfortable financial situation, he liked seeing your eyebrows raise for a moment before you went right back into your confident demeanor, leaving him to watch you walk away. All he could do was wish he could walk up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keep you for a little longer, but that would have to wait for way later in the future, he hoped.Ā
Jack spent the rest of his day doing his usual routine for days off, this time, with a certain pretty neighbor on his mind. He did his quick workout and yoga session, imagining you right next to him either working out with or just watching him like how you looked him up and down the first time he met, washed his scrubs and clothes, thinking about how you would probably sit on top of the dryer talking his ear off like how you do over text, and was about to start cleaning up around the house when there was another knock at the door.Ā
It had been about two hours since you left and the banana bread loaves you baked were finally done and cooled down. You had added a vanilla glaze on top and once it settled, you set one of them into an aluminum tray with a lid, smiling to yourself. You took off your apron and then went to leave, stopping in front of your hallway mirror and taking your hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall naturally.
You find yourself once again in front of Jack Abbotās door, this time with a bright smile on your face as the smell of banana bread lingers in the air. You were excited for Jackās reaction, wanting to show him you were just as capable as him at being a good neighbor, but also maybe something more as you adjust your top and keep your smile confident.
When Jack opened the door, he was more than happy to see you once again, even if he didnāt expect to see you so soon. His eyes immediately gaze upon your body, flowing from your face, to your hair, soft and silky smooth, down to your body and the way it curves as he finally sees you matching black top and sweats and the way they compliment you so perfectly.
He smirks as he looks back up at you, seeing the confident smile on your face. āSeeing you twice in one day, I must be the luckiest man on Earth,ā he says, āTo what do I owe the pleasure doll?ā
He watches as you lift up the aluminum tray in front of your face, smiling brightly. āI made you banana bread,ā you say excitedly, smiling brightly as you walk in.Ā
Jack closes the door behind him with his eyebrows quirked up in surprise and then settling back quickly, smiling at you. āYou made me banana bread?ā he asks, shocked you remembered him mentioning it and heartstruck by how kind and excited you were over doing this for him.
āMhmm,ā you hummed, walking over to his counter and opening it up for him, displaying it proudly. āI love baking and I wanted to thank you for everything youāve done for me as well as show how amazing of a neighbor I am, so I decided to make you some. Itās my secret recipe,ā you say, winking at that last part as you smile up at him with a smile that makes his heart skip a beat as the smile on his face grows.
āIt looks amazing,ā he says, and he wasnāt lying. It looked delicious as he walked past you to grab two plates from the cabinets, as well as forks and a knife. āHere, you do the honors since you baked it,ā he says, handing you the knife and loving the way your fingers brush against his, flexing his hand after as he watches you cut two slices for the both of you, laying them on each plate.
āBon appetite,ā you say, clinking your plate with his as you both take a bite simultaneously. The groan that comes out of your mouth almost makes Jack choke on his piece as he watches the pure bliss that floods your face. Itās delicious and he does his own groan when he finally stops watching you and really tastes it for himself, going in for a second bite quickly.Ā
You freeze at his groan, loving the way it was so deep and gruff, but also that he enjoyed it, making your heart swell with pride. āIt's good right?ā You take another bite as Jack nods, covering his mouth to shoot out a quick yes before focusing back on eating.Ā
When you finish your slice, placing it in the sink and being forced to leave it as Jack swats your hand away from washing it, you smile and laugh. āWell, what do you think? Did I match you in showing myself as an amazing neighbor?ā You looked up at him as you asked, meeting his eyes as he already was looking at you.
āOh doll, I think youāve surpassed me. Iām going to be reeling from this for days, especially when I eat this every time I wake up with a nice cup of coffee,ā he says, reaching out and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.Ā
You gasp slightly before unknowingly leaning into his touch, pulling away quickly and coughing, smiling as you walk backwards to his front door. āWell Iām glad you liked it Jack. Iāll make sure to make extra when I bake from now on,ā you say, reaching for the door.
He laughs at your nervousness as you leave, following you to the door. āThat sounds perfect, thank you beautiful,ā he says, before leaning down and giving you a kiss on the cheek. āUntil next time,ā he whispers in your ear, āand I really hope thereās a next time.āĀ
His scent and presence is intoxicating as you nod, walking backwards out the door with a big smile and blush creeping across your face. āYeah, Iād love a next time,ā you reply, regaining your confidence now that thereās a bit of space between you, ātext me your days off and Iāll send you mine. We can make it a thing,ā you say, smirking as you walk over to your house, waving bye as you enter.Ā
And that was how you showed Jack that for every gesture he was going to do to show he was your man, you would match it just as well.
āYāknow her uncle gonā kill you, right?ā Stack dragged the words out teasingly, but the warning was real. āYou betta keep yo hand out that cookie jar, bruh. Iām f'real. That man donāt play about that girl.ā
At this, Smoke shot Stack a warning glare that said leave it be.
āAināt nobody thinkinā ābout that ālil girl.ā
āShe donāt look so little to me.ā
SYNOPSIS: Smoke meets his best friendās niece and is deeply infatuated from jump. Problem isā reader is strictly off limits.
CONTENT: fluff, FILTHY smut, 18+, unprotected sex, 12-year age gap (38 and 26), use of n-word, some praising degradation, light choking if you squint?, lots of descriptive dirty talk, descriptions of female anatomy, super sweet aftercare, it's just nasty y'all idk
Song Inspo: The Need To Know x Wale & SZA
Word Count: 8,597
Author's note: Disclaimer, reader is 26. She is a grown ass woman. This is my first papa Smoke fic, I hope y'all love it š very lightly proof read sorry in advance for mistakes š¬
Smoke had known about you for years. Every time your uncle, Malcolm, talked about you, he used that distinct overprotective tone he got whenever he was talking about business or something important to him.Ā
āMy niece doinā real good in school.ā
āI gotta go check on my niece this weekend.ā
Or, when he thought one of his homeboys was asking about you just a little too much.
āKeep playinā with my niece nigga, Iāma put you in the ICU.āĀ
And shortly thereafter, the manās questions came to a cold stop.
The way he talked about you always made Smoke think you were very young for some reason. Maybe early twenties at most, somebody still figuring life out. Your uncle was deeply protective over his family, and only people who he really trusted ever got to come around them.Ā
When your uncle finally said, āCome by for dinner Sunday, I want you to meet her.ā Smoke expected a kid. He was 38 himself, so anyone younger than 25 was a youngin to him. You can imagine his surprise when he actually met you.
That Sunday, you opened the door looking every bit of 26. You were grown and confident. Soft brown skin, a real pretty face, the kind of natural beauty that stood out in a room. You had a place of your own and a solid career with room for growth. Quickly, Smoke gathered that you were extremely intelligent. When youād smiled at him and extended your hand to him without a trace of insecurity or shyness, something in Smokeās chest did a two-step. And that wasĀ notĀ something that happened often.
āSoā¦youāre the famous niece I keep hearinā about?ā He asked, voice carefully neutral. He held on to your hand for a few seconds longer than necessary without noticing it. Then you laughed. It was soft and warm, completely unguarded.
āSo Iāve been toldā¦ hopefully all good things.āĀ
Your uncle always spoke about you highly. In fact, now that Smoke was thinking about itā the man had never said anything negative about you at all. You were the apple of his eye. But he hadnāt said anything that prepared him for the woman standing in front of him now.
All throughout dinner Smoke couldnāt stop himself from staring. The way you talked real soft and annunciated every word. The way you listened intensely to understand before responding, all of it was so intriguing to him. He even found himself chucking at the sharp little comments you made when joning on your uncle. You were not a kid. You were a grown woman who happened to be the most important person in his best friendās life. The realization sat wrong and heavy in Smokeās gut for the rest of the night.
He left early.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
The next week, your uncle called Smoke on Saturday morning like he had nothing better to do.
āCome help me mount this t.v. real quick. Niece already over there waitinā on us.āĀ
At being volun-told at 9 a.m., Smoke nearly told Marcus where he could go and hung up before he was reminded of that nagging feeling it had. It was the kind of feeling you get when youāre about to get to the good part of a book and youāre forced to put it down. That was the feeling Smoke had been having ever since he left Sunday dinner early. Instead of declining, Smoke heard himself saying he would be there in 40.
By the time Smoke pulled up, your front door was open, and your voice was pouring through it, loud and bossy. Nothing like the soft-spoken woman heād met just a week ago.Ā
āUh-uh, make sure you got that side good! I donāt need my walls scraped up ācause you rushinā.ā
When Smoke stepped through the threshold, you were barefoot in the living room, hair pulled away from your face and wearing little gray shorts and a white tank top. Every time you took a step, your hips rolled sensually and your breasts bounced slightly, nipples poking through the thin fabric. You were gesturing and pointing around your living room like you were directing an orchestra.Ā
āIf yāall put it on that side the glare from the sun gonā mess up the picture. Iām tellinā you, itās gotta go on this side.ā Your uncle shook his head, half annoyed, half amused at his little niece bossing up.Ā
āYou hear this? Just grown as she wanna be.ā
Smoke set his keys down quietly and you turned at the sound. The smile you gave him was so easy and endearing that he found himself returning a small one and giving you a nod. And Smoke did not smile often, if at all.
āPerfect timing, Smoke. My uncle thinks he know better than the person that actually lives here.āĀ
āKnow enough to know you too bossy for your own good.ā He grumbled, shifting the stand to your requested side of the living room. Your laugh filled the room, and you dropped down, legs crossed, to start taking apart the old stand. The little shorts you wore rode up high on your thighs and your skin looked warm and smooth under the morning light.Ā
The next hour was quiet torture for Smoke.
Every time you bent forward to hand your uncle or Smoke a tool, the tank top pulled taught across your breasts and rose slightly, exposing the soft skin of your tummy. When you sat back and huffed in frustration while you tried to make sense of the instructions, Smoke watched the way you pushed stray pieces of your messy bun out of your face. And whenever you teased your uncleā āIf itās lopsided, Iām givinā you a bad review on your uncle skillsāā your voice remained light, teasing, never crossing any lines. Just comfortable and familiar.Ā
She donāt even know what she doinā to me. Just sittinā there laughinā, talkinā all soft, lookinā innocentā¦ and Iām over here fightinā for my life.
He barely spoke. Smoke kept his eyes on his work like that was the only thing keeping his mind from wandering. Still, his gaze kept drifting over to you. He watched the way your hips spread wide when you sat back on your heels and the way your small, manicured hands moved dramatically while you spoke. He tutted to himself quietly,Ā so damn cute.
At one point you looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. The mischievous smile on your lips let him know you were about to get on him.
āYou donāt talk much, huh?ā
āSay what I need to. Just tryna make sure this thing donāt fall on nobody.ā He replied simply, eyes flicking up to yours and staying there for a moment before drifting down to the soft curve of your mouth. His thoughts betrayed him,
You a damn lie. You thinkinā ābout how soft them thighs look. What theyād look like wrapped around your head...Stop.
You hummed in acknowledgment, but you never looked away. The knowing look stayed in your eyes a second too long, and Smoke noticed.
When the stand was finally up and the tv was mounted, your uncle patted Smoke on the back and headed into the kitchen for water. You stayed in the living room, sitting on the floor with your legs stretched out while you scrolled on your phone.Ā
The house started to feel too quiet with just the two of you, so Smoke grabbed his keys before he said anything stupid.Ā
āIāma head outā
You looked up from your phone with a small frown.Ā
āAlready? We were just about to go out to get somethinā to eat.ā
Smoke wanted to stay. He really did. But he didnāt trust himself. So, he politely declined and said goodbye to your uncle. He gave youā and those pretty brown thighsā one more glance before he headed out and closed the door behind him.Ā
Later that night Smokeās place was silent. Nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak or groan from the house settling. Smoke laid in the middle of his bed, staring at nothing in particular. He sighed in frustration and rubbed his hands down his face. He was replaying the dayās events and desperately trying to scrub the image of you from his memory to no avail. This was evident in the dull, persistent throb between his legs that heād been trying to ignore ever since he saw you in those little shorts.
Thatās his niece. Closest thing he got to a daughter. You sittinā over here hard over a girl you aināt even supposed to be lookinā at. Get it the fuck together.
He sat like that for a long while before he willed himself to sleep.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
Some days later, your uncle was having a cookout. The guys were playing Spades, so he told Smoke to come by. The gathering was in full swing by the time Smoke got there. Smooth R&B wrapped around the yard and the smell of charcoal and grilled meat was thick in the air. He spotted you before anyone else. You were sitting on the edge of a picnic table wearing denim shorts and a strapless top, legs swinging and a drink in hand, talking to some of your girlfriends.Ā
Smoke grabbed a drink and planted himself near the fence. Close enough to the traffic of the party to be polite, but far enough to keep to himself.Ā
Maybe it was a habit from his time being enlisted in the army, or just a habit from growing up where he did, but Smoke noticed everything and everyone. And that was why he noticed the exact moment that you caught the attention of a guy from the neighborhood. He was early 40ās, nice enough looking, but way too comfortable. Smoke watched the manās ego draw his shoulders back in confidence before he made his way over to you. First it was ālemme get you another drinkā. Then it was him hovering awkwardly just behind your shoulder while you spoke to your friends.
Smoke watched, jaw tight and plastic cup starting to give under the force of his clenching fingers. He knew he had no right to feel possessive over a woman he barely knew, but he had no say in the matter. His eyes stayed glued, making sure the man didnāt cross any overt boundaries. Your uncle saw it too.Ā
At first, Uncle Malcolm didnāt say anything. Just kept flipping meat, listening to the conversation around him. Every few moments, his looked over with a calm measuring look, one that surely meant he was letting a man dig his own hole. Smoke recognized the look quickly. It was the same look your uncle had given their friend who kept asking about you before he had threatened to put him in the ICU.
Then, you reflexively flinched and stepped away when the man got just a little too close from behind and his breath brushed your ear. Smoke was already moving before his brain caught up, but he was stopped by your uncle planting a firm hand on his chest.
āI got it Smoke, good lookinā out.āĀ
Smoke forced himself to be still as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Your uncle made his way over to you in three quick steps. He didnāt raise his voice or make a scene. He simply stepped between you and the man so smoothly that it almost looked friendly.Ā
āYou gettinā too close for my nieceās liking.ā
āOh, my bad man. I justāā
āYou was just keepinā yo hands to yo self, right?ā Then your uncle looked over at you with a look that silently said, āyou good?ā. You nodded, already waving it off with a small smile. The man had no idea how lucky he had just gotten. Youād called your uncle off and spared the man two missing teeth. He nodded once simply and walked back to the grill like nothing had happened. The man took the hint. Visibly shaken he wandered over to the cooler for a drink. Malcolm picked up the tongs and resumed grilling, unphased. Smoke saw all of it and realized quickly that could be him.
He saw the way your uncleās expression had become flat and cold and how fast heād delivered the message. No yelling or scene, just quiet authority and the willingness to cause serious harm. These were traits that he himself possessed, and it was one of the reasons he had taken such a liking to your uncle. After all, birds of a feather flocked together. Smoke understood with perfect clarity that if that energy ever turned on him, there would be no explaining or second chances.Ā
Later, when you walked past him on the way to the cooler, your ass subtly brushed his groin. It was a brief touch and gone in a second. Smoke couldnāt figure out if it was intentional or not, that was until you looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He kept his eyes on the fence for the rest of the afternoon and didnāt look at you again. Didnāt trust himself to.
You better stay the fuck away from that girl. For real this time.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
Later that evening, the fight was on the big screen in your uncleās living room. The whole house smelled like wings and the blunt that was in rotation. Your uncle was in his usual spot, reclined back. Stack was in the kitchen making a plate, and Smoke sat on one end of the long couch, quiet like he always wasā and far away from you. You and your girlfriend were spread out on the floor, chattering away about something that had nothing to do with the fight.
Somewhere around the third round, Smoke dropped his phone and it slid under the coffee table.
āIāll get it.ā
You were already moving before anyone else could. You leaned forward, then dropped lower on your hands and knees to be able to reach it. The little shorts you had on pulled tight across your ass with the movement and the fabric rode up the backs of your thighs. Soft, brown skin caught the dim glow of the t.v. As you stretched further, the hem of your shorts crept higher until the lower curve of each cheek was exposed and the soft skin of your inner thighs spread a little. Smoke was frozen in place. The view hit him right between the legs with a low pulsing throb.
All he could see was that same positionā except with you bent over for real. Shorts pushed to the side, back arched and thighs open. He imagined himself behind you with one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip as he sank into you slow and deep. He could almost hear the sound youād make if he went just a little too deep too fast. He wondered if you would give him a soft, cracked moan or a high and shaky whine when he bottomed out and stayed there. His dick twitched hard in his jeans, and he shifted in his seat trying to ignore it. For a long second he couldnāt tear his eyes away from the way your soft thighs looked spread open like that.
Stackās voice cut straight through the fantasy, sharp like a blade and low and close to his ear.
āNigga.ā
Smoke blinked hard and looked away quickly as heat spread across the back of his neck. You sat up just a second later, phone in hand. You held it out to him with a smile. He made sure not to touch you unnecessarily as he took it from you. He offered a gruff, āpreciate itā before turning his attention right back to the fight.Ā
But he was caught. Stack was still watching the scene play out, and he was totally amused. Somebody had finally tickled Smokeās fancy. It wasnāt often that someone piqued his interest to the point where he gawked like that. A wicked grin was already making its way across his brotherās face. He waited until you had settled back into your spot and no one was watching before he spoke again.
āYou realll quiet tonight, cat got yo tongue?ā
Smokeās jaw tensed and he avoided his twin's eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the television. He already knew from the tone in his voice, he was gonna start his shit.
āIām always quiet, āLias.ā
āNah,ā Stack kept his voice low and nudged his brother with his elbow, still grinning. āThis different. This the type of quiet a man get when he lookinā at somethinā he aināt got no business tendinā to.āĀ
Smoke didnāt answer this time. He just took a slow sip of his beer. Stack chuckled quietly and shook his head.
āYāknow her uncle gonā kill you, right?ā He dragged the words out teasingly, but the warning was real. āYou betta keep yo hand out that cookie jar, bruh. Iām f'real. That man donāt play about that girl.ā
At this, Smoke shot Stack a warning glare that said leave it be.
āAināt nobody thinkinā ābout that ālil girl.ā
āShe donāt look so little to me.ā Stack chuckled again but raised his hands in defense when Smokeās head snapped toward him, hot defensiveness bubbling to the surface. āAight, Iāma leave it. Just donāt come cryinā to me when her uncle want yo head on a silver platter. I warned you.ā
Smoke didnāt answer. But for the rest of the night his brotherās words sat heavy in his chestā and so did the image of you bent over under that table.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
Once night settled and everyone left, you and your best friend were sitting in your car outside your place. She turned the music down and turned to you fully, lifting a leg and tucking it under herself like she always did when she got ready to gossip.Ā
āGirl.ā
You raised an eyebrow, ready to hear whatever off the wall thing she was gonna tell you.
āWhat?ā
āYou donāt see how your uncleās friend been lookinā at you?ā Your eyebrows knitted in confusion; you had no idea what she was talking about.Ā
āWho? Smoke or Stack?ā
āSmoke girl, the real quiet one, quit playinā!ā You rolled your eyes immediately and laughed out loud.
āSmoke? Girl, that man is grown as hell. He aināt lookinā at me. Have you seen some of the girls that work in his club? Itās big booty central up in there.ā Your friend was already shaking her head fervently.
āUh-uh.Ā Ā No. He was watchinā that ass switch the whole time you was bent over gettinā his phone. I saw him. He was lookinā at you like he wanted to bend you over his damn self.ā
The laugh died in your throat and your joking demeanor faded when you realized she was serious.Ā
āIām fāreal, girl. That man wants you. Bad. And he lookinā at you like he knows he aināt supposed to.ā
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
It was a regular Thursday and Smoke was just finishing up some business at the club when his phone rang. He answered without looking but the voice that came through the receiver stopped him cold in his tracks.Ā
āHeyā¦ you busy?ā You asked sheepishly.Ā
āWhatās wrong?ā he asked, thinking it must be something serious for you to have called him.
āNothinā serious. I justā¦ the smoke detector has been beeping all day and itās driving me nuts. Iām trying to do something for work, and it keeps distracting me. I got the batteries, but I canāt reach the damn thing.āĀ
Something about the tinge of frustration in your voice and the fact that you calledĀ himānot your uncle or one of your little friends,Ā himā tugged at his heart strings. It wasnāt just attraction this time. Now, it was the quiet, unexpected weight of being needed by you. He couldnāt put a name to it, but it sat warm and dangerous in his chest like a badge of honor.
Smoke drummed his fingers against his steering wheel, trying to talk himself out of going over to your place. When he couldnāt think of a reason good enough to turn you down, he turned the engine and headed toward your place.Ā
Twenty-five minutes later he was knocking on your door, ladder in hand and ready to rescue you. The door opened and there you were, wearing a little spaghetti-strap bodycon dress that hugged all your curves just right and fell gracefully around your ankles, toes perfectly manicured. Bare feet, hair pulled up messily, no makeup. So simple but it landed heavy on Smoke. His eyes dragged over exposed shoulders and down to your hips. The hungry look he gave you made your tummy flip as you stepped to the side to let him in. He couldnāt help but think how pretty a chain with his name on it would look resting against your collar bones.
āHey,ā You exhaled. āThanks so much for coming. I feel so dumb for calling, but itās too high up for me. I cannot have this thing beeping incessantly in the back of my conference calls.āĀ
Smoke chuckled to himself quietly at your use of the word āincessantā. You couldāve just said non-stop, but you always found a way to make the simplest thing sound extraordinary.Ā
āItās nothinā. I got it.ā He stepped inside and instantly felt comfortable as the smell of your apartment invaded his senses. It smelled like your usual candle and whatever dessert you must have been baking. Too intimate and a little too quiet.Ā
You led him to your bedroom and pointed up at the fixture like it had personally offended you. Smoke opened his small ladder and climbed up. You left him alone and wandered into the kitchen. He had the batteries changed within 5 minutes, simple and easy. When he stepped down, he finally looked around. Your bed was half made like youād pulled the sheets up in a hurry and you had a purple duvet on it.Ā
Damn, thatās a lot of pillows.
He thought to himself. On your dresser was a framed photo of you and your best friend, the girl heād met on fight night. Smoke drifted closer when he noticed you had books lining your nightstand. Some of them were philosophical, titles he recognized. Others looked like dystopian novels that were half finished, indicated by random bookmarks.Ā
He was turning to leave when his eyes landed on it. Strewn near one of your pillows was a rose toy. Smoke swallowed hard. It was clear that you hadnāt noticed itā and that it had recently been in use. Smoke stood frozen for a moment, his thoughts betraying him.Ā
Instantly, a mirage appeared of you in the center of the bed, thighs spread wide and one hand between them. He pictured your pretty mouth falling open on broken moans as you arched your back and rolled your hips closer to your hand. A violent stir in Smokeās pants snapped him out of his daydream. He shook his head as if he was trying to clear the filthy thoughts before folding his ladder and quickly exiting the room.
When he made his way back to the kitchen to tell you the job was done, you were standing near the counter scrolling on your phone. Sitting on the island in front of an empty stool was a thick slice of chocolate cake and a tall glass of ice water. You looked up and met his eyes when he entered the room. Your face lit up as you gestured to the plate.
āI just frosted it. Itās still a little warm, try it and let me know how it is? Itās a new recipe.ā
Smoke couldnāt bring himself to decline. One because you just looked so damn cute with that little pleased smile on your face, and two because heād been smelling that cake since he walked through the door. He hesitated just long enough for you to take it as a yes. You rounded the counter and patted the stool.
Smoke sat his ladder down and slowly made his way over to you. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise when he looked down at the plate.
āThatās a big ass slice of cake. You gonā share it with me?ā he asked, silently walking over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
āOnly if you insist.ā You said excitedly, pulling a second spoon from your kitchen drawer. Smoke sat down at the counter and watched with amusement as you pulled out the spoon and some napkins.Ā
āSo, you always this quiet or just donāt like talkinā to me?ā you asked as you settled across from him. Smokeās fingers brushed yours as he took the spoon from you.
āIām quiet with everybody.ā He waited for you to take the first bite and found himself feeling warm and fuzzy when your eyes got wide and rolled back slightly. He followed suit and damn near had the same reaction. It was delicious.Ā
āDamn girl. āSholl can bake.ā He murmured, glancing up at you.
āMhm.ā You tilted your head in satisfaction. āMy uncle talks about you like you some sort of legend. Said yāall have known each other since you were young. You always been the quiet one?ā A ghost of a smile touched Smokeās lips.
āYeah.ā He said simply.
āThatās crazyā you leaned over and took another bite of cake. āI feel like Iāve heard so much about you but I really donāt know you. You got brothers? Sisters? What you be doinā when you not with my uncle or gettinā drafted into smoke detector duty?ā
Most people didnāt ask him questions like this. Usually, they would take one look at the unsmiling, silentā and subtly threateningā way he carried himself, and decided that he wasnāt the type you played 21 questions with. But you didnāt seem to notice, or if you did, you didnāt care. You kept going, small and fearless, like he was any regular man and not somebody half the city treaded easily around. Smoke found himself amused instead of annoyed by the tirade of questions. He never realized you talked so much.
āI got a brother. My twin, you met him.ā
You hummed in agreement as you remembered.Ā
āHeās loud.ā
That, Smoke couldnāt deny. He nodded in agreement.
āYāall so different. He talks enough for the both of yāallā
So do youĀ Smoke thought to himself.
āYou got a girl? You be goinā out or is the club just business? Whatās your favorite food? Do you even like cake, or you one of them āI donāt really do sweetsā niggas?ā
The last question pulled a real, low chuckle from him before he could stop it. The sound pleasantly surprised you and your eyes lit up with amusement.Ā
āOhhhhā you pointed with the spoon with a smirk. āSo, heĀ doesĀ smile.ā
Smoke looked away but the corner of his mouth was still tilted upward. The smile wasnāt anything like Stackās cocky, arrogant grin. It was quieter. Warmer. It made him look younger and softened the lines of his face in a way that made something flutter low in your stomach. He was sexy in a genuine and rare way.
He answered your questions in the order youād asked themā all except if he was currently seeing anyone. You were still in the middle of talking and making nosey, yet funny, observations about Smoke when a smear of frosting ended up just under your bottom lip. Smoke didnāt think before he acted. He reached out and brushed his thumb under your lip, wiping the frosting away. The contact was light but intimate. You went totally still when he brought the thumb to his own lips and licked the sweetness off.Ā
Your eyes dropped to lips, and his dropped to yours. Suddenly the air in the room felt thicker and you were much more aware of the scent of his cologne. And for one dangerous, dangerous second, he almost leaned in and closed the little bit of space between the two of you.
Then, the reality of his best friendā your uncleā slammed back into him like a door shutting. Smoke straightened up quickly and reached for his keys.Ā
āI should go. Thank you for the cake, and the hospitality.ā
Your voice was quieter than intended when it came out.
āYou donāt have toāā
āI do.ā He was already moving toward the door before you could protest again. āI got the batteries changed. You should be good to go now.ā He didnāt wait for you to walk him out. In fact, he left your place like something was chasing him.
For a full minute, Smoke sat in his truck with his hands tight on the wheel. He could still taste the frosting, and he could still see the way youād looked at him.Ā
Andā he could still envision you in the center of your bed, head lolled back in ecstasy as you touched yourself.Ā
Smoke pulled off so fast he nearly hit your trash can on his way out.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
The next time Smoke found himself at your place, it was because your uncle insisted on checking on you on their way back from handling some business at the club.Ā
āSwing by my niece spot real quick. I aināt seen her in a couple days and I wanna check on her. Said she got plates ready for us too.ā
Smokeās hands tightened on the wheel but still, he gave a short nod and turned to make the familiar journey to your place. You opened the door, this time in little shorts and an oversized shirt that was falling off one of your shoulders. You smiled brightly at your uncle as you stepped aside to let him in. The one you gave Smoke was subtler, more private and holding the memory of your last encounter with him.
āI was just about to put on this new movie I rented, come on in.ā
Your uncle kissed the top of your head as he walked past and started making himself at home. Smoke followed behind, slower. You made both their plates and made small talk as you served them. Of course, they tore it up in little time. After, it had turned into a movie night without anyone really deciding.Ā
You took one end of the couch, and Smoke took the other, careful to leave a respectable amount between the two of you. The movie played and flickered soft shadows over the living room. Within twenty minutes of it starting, your uncle was out like a light.Ā
Smoke kept trying not to look at you and failing. Every few minutes, his eyes drifted over to you. He watched the way you bit down on your bottom lip in anticipation before a jump scare came up. How your legs were crossed, accentuating the fullness of your hips. And every time he caught himself, he forced his gaze back to the t.v.Ā
Your uncleās phone ringing disturbed the quiet. He jerked awake and fumbled around for it before answering with a rough voice. Whatever he heard on the other end made him sit up straighter, voice dropping into a sultry register. Most likely one of his many girlfriends.
āAight, Iām on the way.ā He stood, still half asleep and looked over at Smoke. āCan I borrow your car right quick? I gotta go see about something. Iāll bring it back when Iām done.ā
Smokeās stomach dropped. He should have said no or offered to just take your uncle himself. He should have made any excuse to keep him from being left alone with you for an indeterminate amount of time. But instead, he found himself handing over his keys. Your uncle clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him before heading out.Ā
āPreciate it. Look out for my niece, Iāll be back.ā
The door shut behind him and the lock clicked, and suddenly Smoke had a feeling that he may have just made a terribly risky decision.
The movie played for another twenty minutes, and he stayed on his side of the couch, eyes locked on the t.v. like it was the only safe thing to look at. After a while you shifted and stretched your legs, and the soft side of your foot brushed his calf. It was a light touch, but it still sent a tingle up his leg.
āYou good over there?ā
āYeahā¦ just tryna understand this movie, Iām lost.ā You smiled at him as if you heard more than heād actually said.Ā
When the credits started rolling, you both reached for the remote at the same time. Your hands brushed, and instead of pulling away, Smoke slowly turned his palm upward. Waiting. You trailed your fingertips over it and his gaze stayed on your face the whole time. When you finally locked eyes with him, you were the one who leaned in.
The kiss started off hungry without testing or careful exploration. Just your mouth on his, soft and real sure. It was the type of kiss you could tell youād both been thinking about.
A low sound rumbled from Smokeās chest and he kissed back harder, one hand already sliding up to the back of your neck. Before he knew it, you were climbing into his lap, backs of your thighs bracketing his like you were meant to be there. He could already feel the heat coming from you through your shorts. He broke the kiss first, chest heaving.
āYo uncle gonā kill me and smile in the mugshot, girl. You know he donāt want nobody sniffinā āround youā¦ especially not his best friend whoās the same age as him.ā
Your expression was unchanged, and you didnāt get off him. You just stared at him, eyes dark with lust and lips already a little swollen. Smokeās hands settled comfortably on your hips and his thumbs brushed the soft skin under the hem of your shirt.
āYou sure you want this? āCause once we start, aināt no takinā it back. And once Iām inside youā¦ I aināt pullinā out till itās messy. You never been with a grown man like me before. Itās gonā feel different.ā
You rolled your eyes fondly and climbed off him. Laying back against the couch cushions, you parted your thighs for him, just enough for him to be able to tell you werenāt wearing panties.
And in that momentā Smokeās restraint gave in. He dropped to his knees and turned you by your hips so you were facing him. Easily, he dragged your panties and those little shorts down to your ankles. He gently parted your thighs so that you were fully exposed to him and just looked for a second. Arousal was already dripping from your slightly parted lips and Smoke cooed at the sight.
āEven prettier than I thought.ā He murmured. When he put his mouth on you, it was unlike anything youād experienced before. He licked you open with the flat of his tongue and sucked your clit between his lips with steady pressure. When a surprise gasp punched from your chest, he eased in his middle and ring fingers. Stretching you slow and savoring the soft sound your pussy made as it opened up for him. The wet sounds that commenced were immediate and nasty.
Continuously, he curled his fingers against that soft ridge inside you that made your stomach jump. Your back arched hard and a high, broken sound left your throat. He didnāt ease the pressure when your thighs started trembling.
āLook so pretty spread open fāme like this.ā
The vibrations from his voice involuntarily made your thighs close around his head. Soft shocked whimpers kept spilling from your lips while he ate you like he had all day and stroked his fingers deep. Spit and your cream mixed together until his lips and chin were shiny with it. He kept up that steady rhythm until your tummy clenched and a long, shaky cry tore form you. Your walls clamped down around his fingers in hard, rhythmic pulses and cream and slick trailed down his wrist. A warm rush flooded your core as the orgasm rolled through you in heavy waves. Smoke kept licking you slowly through every single one, only slowing when your thighs shook too hard and you tried to close your legs.
Only then did he kiss his way up your body, pushing up your shirt as he went. When he finally settled between your thighs, he latched his mouth to your areola. A surprised gasp escaped you and your hands flew to his shoulders. He suckled gently at your nipple while he rubbed the fat head of his dick through your folds, and the mess heād just made of you. Your pussy clenched around nothing like it needed to be filled again from the sensation. He gave your other breast the same treatmentā hot, wet, and slow, before returning to your lips.
āBreathe for meā he watched your face as he started to push past your entrance. āPretty lil pussy ābout to get stuffed full. You gonā take it for me?ā His lips brushed yours before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded and stuttered out a soft yes as he slowly stretched you, inch by inch. It was deep and overwhelming in a way that made you both want to push him away and pull him closer. When your thighs tried to close on instinct, he caught the backs of your knees and pinned them open against the couch, keeping you spread while he sank deeper.
āUh-uh. Keep these pretty thighs open for me. Wanna feel every bit of this soft lil pussy takinā me.ā
He bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush to yours. The pressure sat heavy and deep in your stomach, and your mouth fell open on a quiet overwhelmed sound. Your walls kept fluttering around him helplessly and cream was already collecting around the base of his dick, dripping between your cheeks and down to the couch.
His strokes started off slow, letting you feel the ridge of his tip and every vein. Soft sounds kept leaving your throat every time he bottomed out, and your eyes went glassy while your fingers dug into his biceps.
He kept you pinned open for him like that and the wet sounds of your pussy taking him filled the quiet apartment. Your second orgasm built slower this time, and it was drawn out by him dragging the head of his dick over that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again.
āThere it isā¦ look how pretty you look takinā all this dick. Already cryin' for me and creamin' down my balls. You never had it this deep before, have you?ā When the coil in your belly finally snapped, your back arched hard and a loud choked cry came from you. He fucked you through every wave until you were a trembling mess under him, still stuffed full and thighs shiny with the mess he made you make. You were still shaking when the words left your mouth.
āLemme get on my knees for you.ā
Smoke went still and the image slammed into him without warning. The way you looked under the table that day reaching for his phone. Shorts lifting enough for him to make out the curve of your bare ass and soft brown thighs spread. He had pictured this exact position more times than he cared to admit. Quickly, he obliged.
He gently pulled out and turned you on your stomach before tugging your hips up. Your ass was high and your chest was flush to the couch. One hand spanned the small of your back to keep your arch deep while the other wrapped around the base of his dick. He gently nudged your clit with the thick head before pushing back in slowly.
āYou sure? 'S gonā feel real full.āĀ
When you only pushed back toward him, he sank into you in one slow, heavy thrust and filled you to the hilt. A high, shaky sound left your lips and it was music to Smokeās ears. Just like heād imagined. He let out a low, satisfied moan as his hands settled on your hips. He started stroking into you deep, angling in a way that made your stomach jump. The depth started to overwhelm you and your hips twitched forward on instinct trying to ease away. A soft, panicked whimper slipped from you. Smoke felt it immediately.
āLook at you, baby. Makinā a mess for me already. Look so fuckinā pretty like thisā¦.Stop runninā from me. This what you wanted, right?ā When you didnāt answer fast enough, his hand came down in a light stinging spank across your right cheek. āAnswer me when I talk to you babyā
A startled gasp left your throat and you pushed back to take him deeper.
āY-yes. I wanted it ju-Ah! Just like thisā you whimpered out helplessly. His palm gently rubbed the cheek, massaging away the sting.
āGood girlā¦ keep that arch fāme just like that and take this dick real deep.ā His other hand came up and fisted gently in your hair just enough to pull you back onto his dick. He left another spank on your ass as he buried himself deep, grinding the thick head of his dick against that swollen spot deep inside you in slow deliberate circles. A thin string of saliva left his lips and landed right where he was stretching you open. The warm sensation forced a moan from you and you arched deeper for him.
āS-so good Smoke. Thank you for fucking me like this. I love it so m-much.ā
Your fingers clenched the cushions under you as he kept stroking. Smokeās eyebrows furrowed in surprise and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He never imagined youād talk to him so filthy, and he loved it. He released the fist in your hair and wrapped both arms around your waist. He pulled you up and back until you were sitting fully on his thighs, spine flush against his broad sweaty chest.
The new position kept him buried deep inside you. You kept fluttering around his length as he bullied himself into your swollen, oversensitive walls. Your thighs were trembling on either side of his and the sweat made everything slippery and hot. Soft, shaky whimpers kept spilling out of you as he stayed deep.
One large hand splayed low on your belly, pressing gently and increasing the pressure in your tummy so you could feel every inch of him. The other hand came up and his fingers wrapped lightly, but possessively, around your throat. He didnāt squeeze, just held you there. Owning. His thumb rested against your pulse, keeping your head tipped back against his shoulder while he rolled his hips in a deep, slow grind. Soft kisses pressed against the side of your face while he murmured in your ear.
āFinally stopped all that runninā, now you takinā this dick just like you wanted it.ā He kissed you messy and open mouthed, claiming your lips and swallowing your little moans. When he pulled away, you let out a breathless little laugh that turned into another moan.
āThisā¦ this the most you ever talked to me.ā You managed, voice real shaky. āIāI like your voice.ā
Smoke made a low, pleased sound against your ear. He took your wrist gently and guided your hand between your thighs, pressing your fingers against your clit. He moved them in slow steady circles, showing you the exact rhythm he wanted you to use. Then he left your hand there.Ā
āKeep touchinā this pretty lil pussy just like that, and Iāll keep talkinā for you, baby.ā
You obeyed, fingers moving in the same slow circles heād just shown you. The dual sensation of your own touch combined with the thick length of him grinding deep made your body shake harder in his arms. Soft, dazed moans left you and your eyes fluttered as the mixture of your arousal and his pre-cum slicked your fingers. Smokeās lips brushed the shell of your ear.
āI kept catchin' you lookinā, yāknow.ā his voice was soft but the words were filthy. āEvery time I was sittinā with my legs spread wideā¦youād stare. Thought I didnāt notice? I saw the way them pretty eyes kept droppinā to my lap.ā
He ground deeper and the hand on your throat tightened just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded, in a good way. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto your shoulder.
āThis what you was thinkin' 'boutā?ā he asked, voice gravelly. āMe holdinā you real close like thisā¦ dick all the way inside this lil pussyā¦ā he nudged just a little deeper on the last word. āMakinā you take it nice and slow while you shakinā and creaminā on me? That what you kept you starinā at me for?ā
When you whimpered in response, he nipped lightly at your earlobe.
āAnswer me, mama.ā
āY-yesā you managed. Smoke grunted before trailing the flat of his tongue slowly along the outer curve of your ear. The sensation made your eyes roll back hard and another helpless sound spilled out. A thin string of drool slipped from the corner of your lips.
āJust like thatā he murmured. āKeep them lil fingers movinā like I told you to. Pretty pussy stuffed so full and you just sittinā here takinā it and droolinā. And here I thought you was so innocent.ā
He rolled his hips again, slow and mean, keeping you locked against his chest as your fingers worked your clit, soft sounds kept leaving your throat. He drew the next orgasm out just as carefullyāvoice real low and filthy against your ear, until your whole body shook in his lap and a long, trembling cry left you.Ā
āKeep cumminā for me, just like that. Told you this grown man dick was different, baby.ā
Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him in heavy waves. More cream spilled out around his dick again, making the wet sound even filthier. He held you through every second of it. Hand still possessive on your throat, the other firm on your belly, murmuring praise against your skin while you came. Sweat and spit and cream made everything between you slick and messy.Ā
The second your body started to soften, Smokeās rhythm broke. He kept you locked against his chest, head tipped back on his shoulder so you could see the side of his face. His hips stuttered, grinding deep one last time before he barely pulled out. Just enough that the thick, swollen head of his dick slipped free and rested heavy against your soft folds. His hand left your belly only long enough to wrap around himself, stroking fast and tight right against your pussy.
A sound tore out of him that youād never heard before.
Low, rough, almost wounded, like it had been dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest. His head tipped back, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut for a second before they opened again and locked on yours. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot out across your lower belly and the soft lips of your pussy in messy, heavy stripes. Each pulse made that same raw sound catch in his throat, quieter the second time, then again as another thick spurt landed on your skin.
He kept stroking himself through it, head of his dick dragging through the mess heād just made on you and hips twitching every time another wave hit. His hand on your throat never loosened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you so you had no choice but to watch him fall apart against you.
When the last weak pulse left him, he stayed there breathing hard, forehead pressed to the side of your face, dick still resting against your messy pussy, and cum cooling on your belly. The only sound in the room for a long second was both of you trying to catch your breath.
āā¦Fuckā he finally muttered, voice wrecked in a way youād never heard from him before.
When the last tremors finally faded, he laid your trembling frame on the couch. Still in between your legs, he leaned in and pressed soft, wet kisses to your swollen lips while your pussy clenched around nothing, missing him already.
Eventually, he pushed himself up off the couch, still breathing a little hard. He disappeared down the hallway and came back a moment later with a warm, damp washcloth. You were still stretched out where heād left you, thighs parted slightly and chest rising and falling.
He sat on the edge of the cushion and started cleaning you softly like you were fragile. The cloth was hot and gentle against your skin as he ran it over the soft inside of your thighs. He wiped away the slick and the faint marks his hands had left. Then he moved between your legs, careful and thorough, making your stomach involuntarily jump. Lastly, he wiped the cloth across your tummy, erasing the thick stripes of his cum from your soft brown skin.
The whole time he barely said anything. He was back to his usual quiet self. His eyes kept drifting up to your face, taking in the soft, blissed-out look in your eyes, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the gentle bounce of your breasts with every still-uneven breath as your body tried to calm down. Something quiet and tender rested in his expression while he worked.
When he finished, he set the cloth aside and finally met your eyes.
āSo what now?ā you asked, voice soft and a little raw.
Smokeās gaze flicked up to yours again and he shifted, settling his larger frame next to you on the couch and pulling you carefully into his chest. One heavy arm wrapped around the small of your back. The other found your hand and gently intertwined your fingers with his.
āIma get my black ass decent before yo uncle comes in hereā¦ā he murmured, thumb stroking slow over your knuckles. āAnd then...itās up to you.ā
You were quiet for a second. Your cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heart. When you spoke again it was almost a whisper.
āI like you. Wanna see you again.ā
Smoke didnāt answer right away. He just pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, lips warm against your skin as he let the words settle between you.
āWe gonā figure it out,ā he said finally, voice low and sure. āYou worth the trouble, baby.ā
And that was enough for now.
āāāĀ āā āā āĀ āāā
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Everything posted here is written
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dr robby grunting when you accidentally bump into him on your way out of a trauma, your elbow digging harshly into his gut. you feel the softness of his tummy and then his hot huff of breath right over your ear. you sputter out apologies, and he waves you off with a dismissive hand. he shakes his head lowly, staring at the floor with a smile he struggles to conceal.
dr robby grunting when he drives his big hard cock into your weeping cunt. youāre laying on your stomach and heās pounding into you from behind. you can feel his hairy tummy bump the curve of your spine every time he thrusts in. you feel him breathe hot and heavy in your ear, and cunt cunt clenchās hard around him when his tip bullies your cervix. his big hairy arms are trapping you to the bed , but you wouldnāt have it any other way. heās not doing this for anything other than his own pleasure. heās already made you come three times, with his fingers, with his face, and then with his cock. and now itās his turn. when he comes in your poor abused cunt, itās with a groan that originates from the back of his throat, and he drops his entire weight onto you. you couldnāt get away even if you wanted to, but thatās okay because youāre right where you wanna be
ohhh frank holding your arms above your head so peter can eat you out for as long as he wants :(( them having you on your back and frankie being behind you, your head in his lap as he peers over you and looks down at peter absolutely devouring you.
peters tongue circling around your sensitive clit and then pushing it into your slit, groaning beneath you like heād been starved. heāll mumble things like, ātaste so good for me..ā and plead, ājust one more pretty girl, gimme one more.ā in between breaths! and his biceps will hold you down, arms wrapped around your thighs and meeting at your tummy, just laying there and not letting you move or struggle.
before, peter had made you came once with his mouth and his fingers, and that felt amazing as always, it left you panting and your eyes squeezed shut.. but as peter was looking between your legs to see the mess he made he saw your arousal drip down your hole and onto the bed, just riling him up and his mouth was latched back onto you. eyes widening, your hands flew to his head, grabbing at his hair from the stimulation. sobs of āsātoo much peter I canāt..ā, were falling from you lips but he wouldnāt stop licking :(( just lapping up your cum so pathetically
you were closing your legs around peters head, hands still tugging on his locks as you try to pry him off, only to be met with franks hands above you, gathering your hands in one and pulling them to his lap. you could only whine out at that, āf-frankie!ā pulling your hands and writhing as your boyfriends make your body feel so hot and overwhelmed. āyou gotta let pete get his fill of that sweet pussy baby, donāt be mean. be a good girl and cum for him again yeah?ā frank would purr above you, his other hand reaching out to squeeze and pull at your tits.. and you thought that it would be just one more. hiccuping in relief when peter makes you shiver and orgasm on his tongue for the second time, that heat in your tummy going down.. only for his head to not move an inch after that. the loudest whimper comes from you when neither of the men move, peter still in between your legs with his arms locked around you and plunging his tongue into your sweet overstimulated cunt. and frank still holding your arms in one while he jerks off to the sight of you, cooing āoh you can take it sweetheart I know you can, bein so good.. keep your legs open for peterāim not telling you again baby.ā offering you all this faux sympathy just so he could get to see you cum again :((
Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x resident!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, crying, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, stress crying, Frank being harsh, soft aftercare, sweet/apologetic Frank, kinda toxic couple dynamics.
Summary: Frank has a very particular way of making it up to you every time he upsets you during shifts.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
Ā šĀ Based on a part of this request Ā šĀ
This shift had been a nightmare. Well, to be honest, every week, one shift always turned into a nightmare after receiving certain comments from Frank. You knew that there were situations that stressed him out, and it seems that having some experience as an R4 has made him a little more tough on the residents at times.
Today, he had made it his personal mission to test your breaking point. Between a botched central line attempt by an intern you were supposed to be supervising and a chaotic three car pileup in Trauma Bay 1, Frank had been relentless.
His voice had cut through a case, sharp and brutally professional.
"If you can't manage your patients, Doctor, I'll find someone who can."
His words had burned all afternoon.
Youād kept your composure, bite marking the inside of your cheek, maintaining a crisp "Yes, Dr. Langdon" through the remaining six hours of your shift.
Now, the door of his apartment clicked shut behind you both.
Before you could even kick off your shoes to go directly to bed, Frankās hands were on you.
He didn't even turn on the entryway light. He simply walked in, took your bag off your shoulder and dropped it to the floor before taking your waist and bringing his face close to yours.
"Frank-" you started, your voice cracking as the exhaustion and humiliation of the day caught up to you.
Helpless tears spilled over your eyes as he kissed you slow and deep.
"Shh," he murmured against your lips, then burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you against him. "Don't. Just let me."
This was the pattern. His pattern.
The fierce R4 who commanded the interns gave way to a man consumed by heavy devotion the moment the door locked.
It was as if he spent his off hours desperately trying to undo every sharp edge heād shown you under the ER lights.
His thumb brushed beneath your eyes, but the tears kept coming, catching on his skin. His expression softened, tormented by a subtle guilt heād never voice aloud in front of the board, but showed you completely at home.
"You were a dick today," you sobbed softly, the words coming out small and broken against his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut.
Frankās chest heaved, his heart breaking at the sight of you unspooling. He cupped your face with both hands, leaning in to press soft kisses directly to the damp tracks on your cheeks, tenderly chasing every tear away.
"I know," he breathed against your lips. "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
He captured your mouth in an agonizingly slow kiss. It was a wordless apology that resonated deep in your chest. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your oversized sweater, his warm hands resting against the bare skin of your waist.
You gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers traced your ribs.
He pulled back to look at you, his dark eyes were intense. "Let me take care of you. Please."
Before you could answer, Frank hoisted you up by your thighs. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a small breath as he carried you toward the bedroom.
He laid you down on the mattress, trailing a line of kisses down your jaw, over your throat, and down to the collarbone heād spent all shift watching from across the nurses' station.
"Frank, you don't have to overcompensate every time-"
"I want to," he interrupted. He took your sweater off, tossing it aside, his gaze devouring the sight of you. "I spent six hours pretending I don't want to take you to an empty room and show you how sorry I am. Let me have this."
He peeled away your clothes piece by piece, pausing to kiss every newly exposed inch of skin.
Every touch was an antidote to the stress of the day.
When his fingers finally brushed over the damp center of your underwear, you arched into his hand with a soft groan.
"Look at you," Frank murmured. "So wet for me."
Instead of stripping off his own clothes, Frank sank down onto his knees between your spread thighs. The sudden shift in position made your breath catch, but before you could protest, his hands gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
He didn't hesitate. Frank pressed his mouth directly against your wet center, taking you in with his tongue, pulling a cry out of your throat.
"Frankāah!"
"I've got you," he rumbled against your sensitive skin, his warm breath fanning over you as he worked. His tongue swept over your clit with precision, his thumbs digging gently into the soft skin of your thighs to keep you pinned. "I'm sorry, sweetheart... I'm so fucking sorry for earlier."
He sucked you into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your center and working until the first orgasm crashed over you.
Your hips bucked off the bed, hands entangling wildly in his hair, but Frank didn't pull away.
He ate right through your orgasm, licking up every drop of your release, murmuring muffled and possessive apologies against your flesh.
"Frank, wait, it- it's too much-" you gasped, your voice trembling as the heat built right back up in your stomach.
"No, it's not," he rasped, lifting his head just enough to glare up at you with intent eyes, his lips glistening. "I want you completely undone. I want you to forget every damn thing about that hospital. Every chart, every trauma bay, every word I said."
He plunged two fingers deep inside you while his thumb found your swollen center again, flicking it in rhythm with the relentless suction of his mouth.
The sensation was devastating. A second orgasm tore through you, leaving you sobbing his name.
He didn't give you a second to catch your breath.
Frank knew every reaction of your body, knew exactly how to push you over the edge again and again. Three, four times; each orgasm bled seamlessly into the next until your brain turned to complete static.
The lingering humiliation of the shift, the stress of the ER, the exhaustion; it was all ruthlessly devoured by his tongue and his intoxicating praise.
"That's it, come again for me... good girl... so good for me... feel how sorry I am?... my perfect dumb girl..."
By the time the fifth orgasm shattered what was left of your sanity, your body was shaking, completely spent. A soft whimper escaped your lips as your thighs trembled uncontrollably against his shoulders.
Frank gently kissed the inside of your thighs, slow and reverent, before rising from his knees.
He crawled up the bed, settling beside you and pulling your limp ruined body against his chest. You were completely dazed, heavy lidded, and fucked-out; the heavy fog of sleep was already dragging you under before he even pulled the duvet over you.
Frank stroked your damp hair away from your forehead, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. For a long time, the only sound in the room was the rasp of your breathing.
"Better?" he asked softly, smiled at the sight of your relaxed face.
You let out a sleepy laugh, resting your head on his chest. "If this is what happens when you yell at me, I personally might start messing up central lines on purpose."
Frank chuckled, his arms tightening around you protectively. "Don't push your luck, baby. But... I'm sorry. I really am."
Pairing: Dr Frank Lsngdon x resident!girlfriend!reader (ft. Dr. Michael Robinavitch)
Warnings: none, fluff.
Summary: Frank can't help calling you baby during your shifts, and it doesn't take long for Dr. Robby to catch on to your secret relationship.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes. Ā
Being Frank's girl had its perks, but working as a resident under him was a high wire act of keeping things professional.
Or at least, trying to.
The problem was Frank.
He didn't mean to leak your domestic life into the hospital, but off duty habits were hard to break.
The second the stress spiked, his filter completely vanished, and the habit of calling you baby slipped out effortlessly, everywhere, and in front of everyone.
"Hand me those trauma shears, baby," Frank murmured without looking up, his gloved fingers holding pressure on a lacerated thigh.
You passed them to him instantly, seamlessly anticipating his next move. "Suction is ready."
"Good girl," he hummed, flicking his possessive gaze up to meet yours.
Later at the nurses' station, you were furiously typing up chart notes when a hot cup of coffee was placed near your elbow.
"Drink up, baby. Youāve been on your feet for ten hours," Frank said, resting a hand briefly on the small of your back, just long enough to send a quiet spark through you before walking off to check on another patient.
You took a sip, smiling to yourself, entirely oblivious to the tall figure standing by the whiteboard.
Dr. Robby spent the next hour observing. First, it was Frank at the central desk: "Baby, where's the lab report on the abdominal pain in Bay 2?"
Then, in the trauma bay: "Watch that line, baby, patient's slipping."
Finally, near the breakroom, as you handed Frank a fresh pair of scrubs: "Thanks, baby, you're a lifesaver."
Dr. Robby blinked, slowly processing the density of pet names dropped in a single hour span. He crossed his arms with a slow smirk spreading across his face.
"So," Robby said, stepping into your line of sight as Frank finished tossing his dirty scrubs into the hamper. "Baby, huh?"
Frank paused. "What about it?"
"I mean, I knew you guys were a solid team, but 'baby' three times in the last hour?" Robbyās eyes darted between you, standing flushed by the counter, and Frank, who was trying, and failing, to keep his cool exterior intact.
Robby snapped his fingers, his grin widening. "Oh. Oh. You two are dating!"
You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning. "Dr. Robby, it's-"
"Don't bother," Robby chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. "Just try to keep the pet names down to two per shift, alright?"
Frank rolled his eyes, but a helpless grin broke through as he reached over and lightly tugged your arm closer to his side. "No promises, Robinavitch."
As Robby started walking away down the corridor, you buried your face in your hands, groaning softly. "He's going to be insufferable."
āFrank chuckled, reaching out and pulling your hands away from your face.
ā"As long as I can keep calling baby at least two times per shift," Frank murmured, his thumb gently catching your chin to lift your gaze to his.
āBefore you could protest, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your lips, lazy, warm, and entirely unbothered by the location. When he pulled back just an inch, his lips brushed against yours as he murmured with a playful smirk, "You doing okay, baby?"
A voice interrupted the moment from afar.
ā"I HEARD THAT! AND NO KISSING HERE!" Dr. Robby shouted.
āYou hid your red face straight into Frankās chest, while Frank just laughed, tightening his grip on you and pressing a kiss into your hair.
jack abbot who is in love with you. and thatās okay! because you already knew! you knew that he looked for you in the crowded pitt, regardless of the incoming, his heart demanded you by his side. you knew that he needed you pulled flush against his chest before he could fall asleep at night. you knew that he would hold onto you forever and never let you go.
jack abbot who is in love with michael robinavitch. and thatās also okay! you just donāt know about it. but yknow, theyāve been friends for a really really long time, itās only natural to develop some sort of attachment to a person after knowing them for that long. it was a sort of comfort, being in love with robby, a reminder of better times, when the two attendings were not weighed down by the patients they saw pass through the hospital. itās really not his fault heās in love, he just doesnāt plan on doing anything about it.
michael robinavitch who is in love with you. which is once again, l okay! itās just, thatās the reason why he has the two of you watch over his house whilst heās on sabbatical. he assumed knew that the two of you would fuck, he just hoped it would be in his bed. for comfort of course! the guest room is not nearly as nice as his own, and he practically insisted you two stay in his bed. you just donāt know about the camera that he has in his smoke detector, he got it by accident okay!!!, and you just donāt know how closely he watches your face on his too big ipad when you come around jacks cock.
michael robinavitch who is completely in love with jack abbot. which is once again, you guessed it! completely okay!!! he just didnāt realize that fact until he was checking in on the two of you through his camera app and saw you riding jack. he should have closed out of the app when he noticed that he couldnāt even see you, hips down covered by a thin sheet and the above by your unruly hair. he could only see jack. jack, with his head thrown back. jack with hands clenching and unclenching. jack with his face screwed up in pleasure. and jack, with his nose buried in robbyās pillow when he finally came. itās not his fault heās saw that. but he does plan on doing something about it, and he leaves after he finished dragging his hand up and down his cock.
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