softdom!dennis fucks you..! 18+ ( PT TWO )
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
Your voice cut clean through the room, sharp and unapologetic. The intern froze, then shut up immediately. They always did.
You stepped away from the bed, already done with the entire situation. “Chart it,” you said shortly. “And don’t mess it up.”
You pulled off your gloves with a sharp snap, tossing them into the trash without looking. The patient behind you had nothing more than a minor fracture, stable, straightforward. If the intern couldn’t handle that, they had bigger problems.
The patient thank you before you left the room with a small, professional nod.
You paused just long enough to glance back over your shoulder. The intern was still standing there, stiff, like they weren’t sure if they were allowed to breathe without permission. You just shaked your head, slightly in disbelief.
The door swung shut behind you, muting the room instantly.
Out here, everything moved again, stretchers rolling past, voices overlapping, the low, constant rhythm of a hospital that never really sleeps.
You exhaled quietly, rolling your shoulders once before heading toward a computer to check the charts the interns were supposed to finish.
“Where did you leave your intern?” Dr. Robby stopped beside you like he’d been waiting for you to come out.
“In the room.” A pause. “Hopefully learning something.”
He huffed a laugh at that. “You know we’re supposed to teach them, right?”
You stopped at the computer, logging in without looking at him. Your fingers moved fast over the keyboard, already pulling up the patient’s chart.
“It’d be easier,” you said, tone flat, “if they stopped trying to question my intelligence every five seconds.” The keyboard clicked under your hands.
Robby leaned against the counter slightly, watching you for a moment. “Y’know,” he said, almost casually, “I remember someone else being just like that on their first day.”
A faint smirk pulled at your lips, humorless. “Yeah?” you muttered, eyes still on the screen. “Not me.”
He laughed under his breath, “Sure.”
You didn’t respond and after a second, he pushed himself off the counter. “Try not to scare all of them off,” he added, already turning away.
As soon as you lift your gaze, you already see him. You feel his eyes on you.
He has been watching you from across the room.
So you raise an eyebrow, sharp and questioning.
As soon as he breaks free from his stare, his cheeks turn a barely noticeable shade of red before he looks away.
The shift was finally over.
Cold air hit you the moment you stepped outside, refreshing against your skin. A few strands had slipped free from your messy bun, moving with the night wind as you exhaled quietly.
The entrance area was quieter now. Just the distant hum of the hospital behind you, doors sliding open and closing again.
A faint smell of cigarettes caught your attention.
You barely had to look before you saw him. Whitaker.
Leaning slightly against the wall, a cigarette between his lips, exhaling slowly as the smoke curled up and disappeared into the cold air.
Of course he was still here.
You pulled your own pack out without a word, placing one between your lips as you walked over.
He noticed you immediately.
His eyes flicked up, surprised, but not quite caught off guard enough to move. You stopped in front of him.
“Didn’t know you smoked,” you said, voice calm, almost casual.
Before he could answer, you reached for his collar and pulled him down just slightly. Not rough, just enough to close the distance. He was taller, but that didn’t matter.
His cigarette glowed bright at the tip as yours met it. A small spark, then the quiet burn as it lit.
You took your first inhale like it was nothing new, like it meant nothing at all, and exhaled slowly through your lips, releasing the smoke.
He was staring. Obviously.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” you repeated, different this time, less statement, more question.
That finally seemed to snap him out of it.
He looked away, not at you, but up at the dark sky instead. You probably think he's a creep anyways, since you always catch him starkng.
“I only do sometimes,” he said. “On rough days.”
You gave a small nod, flicking ash off the end of your cigarette. “So today was rough?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “It really was.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just standing there. Side by side. Smoking in silence like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You glanced at him properly now.
Whitaker had always been your type. His arms, the way the muscles showed when he moved or lifted something. Those eyes.
He had always been kind to the interns, the patients, and probably every person on the goddamn planet.
“You need something to relax?” you ask, catching the brief flicker of shock in his eyes.
That’s how you both end up on his bed.
His room looks exactly how you expected, study sheets scattered everywhere, some dirty clothes on the floor, empty energy drink cans. Typical. First-year resident physician, he barely has time to breathe.
Dennis is hovering over you, pressing you down into the mattress as his lips crash into yours like two colliding planets.
You like the way he takes the lead, a soft moan slipping into his mouth.
One of his hands rests beside your head, the other moving slowly over your hips, dangerously close to your waistband before drifting upward.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice warm against your skin.
His lips find your neck, and you tilt your head slightly, giving him more space. They’re hot, soft, leving a trail that makes your breath catch.
“Please, Dennis…” you whisper.
That earns you a surprised grin.
“You saying ‘please’ is new,” he mutters. “But I like it.”
His hands slip under your shirt, moving to your back before unclasping your bra in one smooth motion. He cups your breast, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.
“Oh—God…” you breathe, your body trembling beneath him. “Please—”
You don’t even know what you’re asking for. Just more.
He lifts your shirt, pausing for a second, a silent question. You nod, and he pulls it over your head, discarding it along with your bra.
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back down into a kiss as you tug his shirt off. His skin is warm beneath your touch, smooth, but his arms are firm, defined.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until you can feel his erection through his pants.
He settles between your legs, holding himself up with his hands on either side of your head.
When you finally pull away from his lips, you catch it. A grin. And his cheeks flushed red.
Your hands move to his jeans, fingers fumbling slightly as you try to open his belt.
“Dennis… I need you,” you breathe, looking up at him, and something in your expression clearly gets to him.
He doesn’t waste time. His belt is undone in seconds, jeans pushed down just enough before his attention is back on you.
His hand finds your chest again, squeezing as his thumb brushes over your nipple, sending a sharp wave through you. At the same time, his mouth moves to the other, lips warm as he kisses, licks, and gently bites.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your skin.
Your back arches instinctively, chasing more of him.
“Please, Dennis…” you beg softly.
A quiet chuckle leaves him, low and amused.
“Didn’t know you could beg like this.”
“Please—” you repeat, more desperate now, your thighs pressing together as the heat builds.
His hands move lower, hooking into your pants and slowly pulling them down over your hips as you lift them for him. He takes his time, eyes on you as you’re left in nothing but your panties.
“This color…” he mutters, almost to himself, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric. “Looks so fucking pretty on you.”
The lace is a soft violet, almost lilac.
“You’re definitely keeping them on.”
His lips trail down your body again, slower this time, more deliberate. Your breath catches when his fingers slip under the edge of your panties, brushing against you, teasing.
“Already this wet?” he murmurs but you can hear him grinning.
Your only answer is a broken sound, barely holding together.
His fingers move with more purpose now, slow at first, circling your clit, sliding though your flods, making your hips lift slightly against his hand. Then he pushes in, and the reaction is instant.
“God—” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body reacts on its own.
He keeps moving, steady, watching every little reaction you give him. And it’s too much in the best way.
When he pulls his hand away, the loss makes you whine softly.
He reaches for a condom, tearing it open quickly after pushing his boxers down. His movements are efficient, but there’s still something controlled about them—like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And that’s fucking hot.
He’s not particularly thick, but he’s long—really fucking long.
Then he’s back between your legs.
He shifts your panties aside, his hand steady on your hip as he lines himself up. You feel him hard at your entrance.
The first push makes both of you react at the same time.
“Fuck—” you breathe, your head falling back.
“You’re so tight,” he mutters, his voice rougher now. “Relax… I’ve got you, pretty ”
You feel every inch as he moves slowly, giving you time to adjust, even though your body already feels stretched around him.
“Dennis—” you gasp, your fingers tightening against him.
“I know,” he murmurs, a little breathless now. “Almost there… you’re doing so good for me.”
Then, with one final, deeper push, he fully settles into you
His hips move back and forth, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room, and you’re both a moaning mess.
“Fuck… you’re so pretty,” he breathes out, voice strained. His forehead is glistening with sweat, soft curls moving with every thrust.
“Dennis…” you moan, feeling your stomach tighten, your muscles clenching as you chase that high.
“You’re gripping me so tight, pretty,” he mutters through clenched teeth. “Gonna cum like this…”
You only nod, barely able to form words, the feeling building higher and higher.
“Oh God—” your legs start to tremble, the tension snapping tighter, and when Dennis thrusts into you one last time, hard and deep, you break.
“Dennis!” you cry out, your body collapsing as you come around him, legs shaking while he keeps moving through it.
“Shit—so tight,” he groans, his rhythm losing control.
Not long after, you feel the warmth— and then he’s done too.
He drops down beside you, both of you out of breath.
And all you can do is grin.
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