I would absolutely LOVE a throuple, like full on three way relationship. Not just a hook up with two friends who may or may not be into each other. I want commitment, love and care from the three of them. And the hardships that comes with that. I'm talking society, work, friends, family, even each other... It's a great topic to explore, especially with the chemistry these three have.
Also, all jokes aside... I really love the way the look at each other because they are two little boys who used to race together and grew up to fulfill their dreams and now both of them have their own little family too. And they did it all basically together. They watched each other grow. It's beautiful
If I had a nickel every time you brought up the lestappen raining testing day, I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice
Summary: Because of bad experiences with men, you don't think that someone could actually like you in a romantic way, and because of that, you don't notice how your attending is down so bad for you.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.
You were always that friend that men didn't ask out or ask for your number, but they did for your friends. Since high school, you liked a boy and they just approached you to talk about your friends, if they were single, what they liked, or if you thought they would accept going out with them. You wanted to scream every time it happened, but instead you smiled and answered back even if it broke your heart every single time.
So now, as an adult, when a man flirts with you or compliments you, you don't think they are actually flirting or meaning the compliments, because…
Why would they?
It's something that has grown in your head, with time and more men that have dismissed you for someone else or asked to date one of your friends. So when your attending, Jack Abbot, starts to flirt with you very subtly, you actually don't notice because, in your mind, no one would do that and you just thought that it was him being friendly.
How he always knew when you needed coffee at a specific time on your shift and he always got that for you on time when you were just thinking about getting one. How he always got it right, the way you liked your coffee.
Also, Jack could be a little grumpy sometimes, answering a little sharply to anyone but you. He was always sweet and talked to you with a half smile and a shine in his hazel eyes that everybody noticed.
Everyone except you.
And you wouldn't have if it wasn't for Ellis.
She approached you in the middle of your shift as always, you were doing your charts and she probably just wanted to mess around. After some chat, she dropped it, no warning or anesthesia.
“But Abbot is in love with you.” She just said it like it was common knowledge.
You froze, your fingers stopped answering you, you looked at her trying to find out if she's joking and when you saw how totally serious she was, you panicked, that couldn't be true, it wasn't possible, all his gestures were friendly, what would he even look at you for? Definitely not more than friends, you told yourself that you didn't fit with him, he was too handsome.
“You know it, right?” Parker asked after seeing your stunned face.
You just looked at her, wide eyes and red faced.
“Girl… that man is on his knees for you.” She was as stunned as you but for a different reason.
You actually didn't know.
“Have you ever seen him bring coffee to any of us? Let alone get our preferred order right? Give us a soft tone when he's instructing or annoyed. And I can go on and on all night long.”
She left you there because a trauma was coming in. You weren't able to move or think straight. You just repeated to yourself that it wasn't true, that Ellis was messing around with you. But every time you looked at Jack, her words repeated in your mind and you wished they were true and that couldn't happen.
Every time you let yourself have a crush or fall for someone, it ended up with you being rejected, hurt in the most painful way. And when Parker's words wouldn't leave your mind, you started to avoid your attending, running away from every room where he was before he could approach you or direct a single word at you. You presented your cases to Shen or Cruz until it became evident that you were avoiding him.
You didn't leave Jack a choice, not knowing what he did for you to not let him go near you; it was killing him. He made sure to follow every move you made until you grabbed your things and said goodbye to everyone except him. He followed you quickly to the parking lot and didn't give you a chance to run away from him.
“Hey, can we talk?” he stopped you before you could reach your car keys.
“I've got to go…”
“Did I do something?” he asked nervously.
You didn't look at him, trying to stop the butterflies in your stomach and Parker's words repeated in your mind.
“No,” you mumbled.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” he insisted, trying to understand what could have possibly happened to make you avoid just him.
“I’m not,” you whispered, trying not to focus on the warmth of his hand on your arm.
“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”
The pet name made shivers go down your back and again you tried to convince yourself that he could possibly say that to any other woman.
“I’m not.”
“Did I say something?” he was more desperate this time. “Whatever I said to hurt you, I didn't mean it that way, I–”
“You didn't say anything wrong,” you assured him, stopping his rambling.
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.” You tried to go away but he didn't let you.
“Please,” he mumbled your name, not knowing how much you loved hearing it coming out of his mouth.
He shifted his weight from leg to leg nervously given your lack of response.
“Did someone say something?” Again you didn't answer but the shift in your expression answered for you.
Jack sighed defeated.
“I’m so sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable–
“It doesn't,” you said so quickly that you realized what you had said after you did it.
Jack frowned, confused. “Then…”
“Do you actually?” you whispered, unable to look him in the eyes, preparing yourself for the rejection.
“What? That I'm in love with you, sweetheart? Because I totally am.” he said it with such confidence and like it was something so obvious.
You looked at him confused.
“Why?”
That caught him off guard, he didn't understand why you were asking, but if that was what you needed to finally believe him.
“Because you're amazing, you're beautiful, smart, kind, the best under pressure, I love all the gestures that you do when you focus on something or you're excited, how you jump to help people that you don't even know, and I can continue all night long.” He kept getting closer to you, watching how your eyes started to tear up.
“I can't believe you,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him but Jack was so close to you by this point that he heard it anyway.
He sighed desperately.
“Why? It's the truth, honey, the real question is why wouldn't I be in love with you?” he whispered, taking one of your rebellious strands of hair and moving it away from your face.
“Because nobody has ever wanted me that way,” you confessed, holding back a sob but he could clearly see it in your eyes.
How you actually believed that.
Jack felt his heart ache and the need to take you away from everything that could hurt you or have made you think that way because, in his mind, you were the most beautiful woman ever and he would feel very lucky if he could ever have you one day. He couldn't stand that you thought about yourself like that.
Before he could say something, you said something more.
“During my whole life, it's never been me, when I was a teenager the boys would be interested just in my friends, they wouldn't care about me. Now it's no different, something is wrong with me, Jack, you don't actually love me." The pain in your voice when you actually believed your own words made Jack want to cry.
How had nobody ever told you how pretty you were?
How had nobody seen in you what he saw?
How did they not see you for who you really were?
He didn't understand but he didn't care either, because he saw it, and he’ll make you see it too even if it takes him years. He'll make sure you know how pretty, intelligent, and beautiful you are. An incredible person that anyone in their life should be grateful to have.
“Then they are dumb as fuck, they don't understand the incredible girl that they are losing.” he cupped your face with his hands and cleaned the tears with his thumbs. “How lucky they could be to have you in their life.”
“You don't mean it,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself, starting to sob in his arms.
“I do, sweetheart. You don't understand how bad I do,” he insisted, looking deep into your eyes with that intensity that only he had. “I know what I want.”
“What do you want?” you mumbled.
“You.”
He leaned into you, nose touching yours, he waited for you to step back, to give him a sign for him to step back, a glimpse from you that told him you didn't want that. And when he didn't find it he pressed his lips into yours, you took your time but you returned his kiss letting yourself go, letting yourself be loved.
When he pulled away you found yourself wanting more.
“Nothing is wrong with you, I truly love you and if you need me to repeat that to you every single day I will, I don't care, sweetheart.” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours and brushing his nose against yours.
You smiled at that contact and the way he called you, you loved hearing that word coming out of his mouth. You had started to believe him and he could see it in the way you relaxed under his touch, stopping your tears.
“I love you too, Jack,” you said shyly in a quiet mumble that made his heart warm. “I just… I–”
He captured your lips in another sweet kiss before you could say something that was going to make his heart ache again and the anger for whoever had made you think that you couldn't be loved could crawl into him.
I actually didn't like this, but I wanted to publish something 🫠
When a man is flirting with you at work, in a desperate attempt to get rid of him, you tell him you're taken.
When he persists and asks who, your eyes instinctively flick to Jack Abbot. The man who is decidedly not your man. No matter how much you want him to be.
Much to your embarrassment, Jack overhears. Immediately his chest puffs out and he becomes very protective and very proud to be your fake boyfriend. He'd much rather it be real though.
It starts with a hand on your waist.
That’s the first problem.
The second problem is that the hand belongs to a patient’s brother who apparently mistakes basic human decency for romantic interest.
The third problem is that it’s been happening for three shifts straight.
“You should smile more,” he says now, leaning against the nurses’ station like he owns the place. “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t look so stressed.”
You give him the tightest smile you can manage.
The emergency department behind you is drowning.
Two ambulance arrivals.
One psych hold screaming obscenities in room seven.
A trauma consult incoming.
You have exactly zero patience left for this man.
“Sir,” you say evenly, “you need to stay in the waiting area.”
“But then I don’t get to talk to you.”
God.
You glance around desperately for rescue.
Dana sees you from across the hall and immediately pivots the other direction like a traitor.
Coward.
The man leans closer.
“What time do you get off?”
“Late.”
“I could wait.”
“No, thank you.”
“You got a boyfriend or something?”
The answer should be easy.
No.
Because you don’t.
Unfortunately, the man asking isn’t hearing polite rejection. He’s hearing negotiation.
And you are tired.
Exhausted.
Running on caffeine and twelve accumulated hours of stress.
So the lie slips out before you fully think it through.
“Actually,” you say quickly, “I am seeing someone.”
That should’ve ended it.
It does not.
Instead the man grins.
“Yeah? Who?”
Your mouth opens.
Nothing comes out.
And because the universe clearly hates you, your eyes instinctively flick sideways.
Straight toward Jack Abbot.
Who is currently standing fifteen feet away reviewing labs at a computer.
Your stomach drops.
Because Jack looks up at the exact wrong moment.
And catches it.
All of it.
The man follows your gaze.
Then his eyebrows rise.
“The doctor?”
Heat floods your entire body.
“No— I mean—”
Too late.
Jack is already walking over.
And the truly horrifying part?
The second he realizes what’s happening, something changes in him instantly.
His shoulders pull back.
Chest broadening slightly.
Expression sharpening.
Like some deeply primitive part of his brain just heard mine.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
Jack stops beside you.
Close.
Very close.
Close enough that his shoulder brushes yours.
“Everything okay here?” he asks calmly.
The man looks between the two of you.
“You her boyfriend?”
You open your mouth to explain.
Jack beats you to it.
“Yeah.”
Your brain short-circuits.
The man looks disappointed immediately.
Jack, meanwhile, looks like he’s moments away from dragging you behind him and guarding you with a spear.
“She said she was taken,” Jack continues pleasantly. “You should probably listen when women tell you no.”
There’s no aggression in his tone.
That somehow makes it more terrifying.
The man awkwardly mutters something and finally backs off toward the waiting area.
The second he disappears around the corner, you slap a hand over your face.
“Oh my God.”
Beside you, Jack looks entirely too pleased with himself.
“You’re welcome.”
You peek at him through your fingers.
“I cannot believe you just did that.”
“You looked uncomfortable.”
“That’s not the point.”
A tiny grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“You called me your boyfriend.”
You make a strangled noise.
“It was panic.”
“Mm.”
“You are enjoying this way too much.”
Jack shrugs, utterly unrepentant.
Then — and this is the worst part — he casually slides his hand against the small of your back.
Like it belongs there.
Your entire nervous system lights on fire.
“There,” he says. “Now he definitely won’t come back.”
Your heart is beating so hard it’s physically embarrassing.
Because Jack smells good.
Because he’s warm.
Because his hand is large and steady against your spine.
Because you’ve been in love with him for months and apparently your subconscious decided that today was the day to publicly expose you.
“Great,” you mumble weakly. “Fantastic. Amazing.”
Jack looks down at you, amused.
“You okay?”
No.
Absolutely not.
You are seconds away from cardiac arrest.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re blushing.”
“Shut up.”
His grin widens.
And somehow that’s the thing that kills you most.
Because Jack Abbot does not grin often.
He smiles, sometimes. Briefly. Tiredly.
But this?
This is warm. Open. Boyishly pleased.
Like being mistaken for your boyfriend is the best thing that’s happened to him all week.
Which is ridiculous.
Probably.
Hopefully.
The fake dating thing should’ve ended there.
Instead, somehow, it escalates.
Because apparently Jack commits to a bit with alarming dedication.
The man from earlier keeps trying to hover near the nurses’ station throughout the shift.
And every single time, Jack appears.
Every. Single. Time.
Like an insanely attractive, emotionally constipated guard dog.
You’re updating charts when Jack suddenly appears behind your chair.
“You eat yet?” he asks.
“No.”
“You need to.”
Then he sets a protein bar beside your keyboard before casually squeezing your shoulder.
The man in the waiting room watches the entire interaction with visible defeat.
Later, during a trauma intake, Jack brushes past you and murmurs, “Careful, sweetheart,” when you nearly back into equipment.
Sweetheart.
You nearly drop an entire tray of syringes.
He doesn’t even seem to notice what he’s done.
Or maybe he does.
Because when your eyes snap toward him, his expression goes strangely satisfied.
Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
You’re doomed.
By hour nine, the entire department has noticed.
Dana corners you in the medication room.
“So,” she says casually.
“No.”
“You and Jack finally snapped?”
“No!”
Dana looks unconvinced.
“Really? Because he’s been following you around like a Victorian husband whose wife might catch tuberculosis.”
You groan.
“It’s fake.”
“Mhm.”
“It is!”
“Sure.”
“It started because that creep wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Dana snorts.
“And Jack immediately volunteered?”
“He overheard.”
Dana actually has to physically lean against the counter because she’s laughing too hard now.
“Oh, that poor man.”
You blink.
“What?”
“You really don’t know?”
A horrible feeling crawls into your stomach.
“Know what?”
Dana stares at you.
Then she laughs again, softer this time.
“Jesus Christ. You two are painful.”
Before you can interrogate her further, someone yells for assistance down the hall.
Dana escapes with the air of someone withholding devastating information for personal entertainment.
You hate everyone here.
The shift finally ends just after midnight.
You’re exhausted enough to cry.
Jack finds you in the locker room area struggling into your jacket.
“You good to drive?” he asks immediately.
“Yes.”
“That sounded fake.”
“It’s because I’m tired.”
Jack studies you for a long moment.
Then he reaches over and fixes the collar of your jacket where it folded inward.
Such a tiny gesture.
So gentle.
So automatic.
Your chest aches.
“You didn’t have to keep doing that all shift,” you say quietly.
Jack’s hands still.
“What?”
“The fake boyfriend thing.”
Something unreadable flickers across his face.
“Oh.”
“You really committed.”
He huffs a quiet laugh.
“Well.”
You wait.
Jack looks at you for a second too long before saying carefully:
“Wasn’t exactly difficult.”
Your breath catches slightly.
The air changes.
Just a little.
Enough to notice.
Jack notices it too.
You can tell by the way he suddenly looks intensely focused on your jacket zipper instead of your face.
“You know,” you say softly, “you were weirdly good at it.”
That gets a tiny smile out of him.
“Yeah?”
“Very convincing.”
His eyes finally lift to yours then.
Warm.
Steady.
Dangerous.
“Maybe because I wanted to be convincing.”
Your heartbeat stutters.
“Jack…”
He exhales slowly through his nose.
And suddenly he looks nervous.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jack nervous around you before.
“I should probably tell you something.”
Your pulse jumps.
“What?”
Jack rubs the back of his neck once before meeting your eyes again.
“I’ve kind of wanted to be your boyfriend for a while now.”
The world genuinely stops for a second.
You stare at him.
Jack’s expression shifts instantly.
“Oh my God,” he mutters. “That sounded terrible out loud.”
“No,” you say immediately.
“No?”
“No.”
Relief flashes across his face so fast it almost hurts to see.
“You mean that?”
You step closer before you can lose courage.
“Jack,” you say softly, “I’ve been in love with you for months.”
The look he gives you then could ruin lives.
Like he can’t believe his own luck.
Like he’s trying not to smile too hard and failing miserably.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
Jack laughs once under his breath.
Then his hands find your waist carefully, almost hesitantly, like he’s checking whether this is real.
“You know,” he murmurs, “I liked hearing you call me your boyfriend.”
Your face burns again.
“I was panicking.”
“Still counts.”
“It absolutely does not.”
“I disagree.”
You laugh helplessly.
And that’s the exact moment Jack kisses you.
Warm.
Certain.
A little overdue.
His hands tighten at your waist when you kiss him back, and the sound he makes low in his throat nearly melts your skeleton.
When he finally pulls away, his forehead drops against yours.
“So,” he murmurs, voice rough now, “can I make it official?”
You smile so hard your cheeks hurt.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you probably should.”
Jack grins.
That same dangerously soft grin from earlier.
Only this time, when he slides his hand against your lower back and pulls you close, there’s nothing fake about it at all.
summary: what could possibly go wrong when your best friend and secret crush asks you to pretend to be his new girlfriend at a wedding his friends and ex-wife will be at? (female reader)
barista's note: I swear I have more Jack content coming! (i have two WIPs for him!) but I've been so obsessed with the malpractice king I needed to get these out of my system.
ingredients: 18+, f!oral, p in v, divorced Langdon, who doesn't love a fake dating trope.
drink size: 1852 words
You looked yourself over in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at you. It was rare for you to get dressed up like this - a silk, dark blue spaghetti-strapped dress that hugged your body just right, topped off with hair and makeup that you spent the past hour perfecting.
Two months ago, Frank had shown up at your apartment in a panic. You were worried he had relapsed, but breathed a sigh of relief when he went on to explain that an old college friend of his had invited him to his wedding. But the relief was short-lived as he went on to say that Abby was expected to be at this wedding too, with a new man on her arm.
Then came the question.
Not just a simple “Will you be my plus one?” But instead, “Will you be my plus one AND pretend to be my girlfriend?”
You were uncertain at first, not one to enjoy making others jealous. But jealousy wasn’t Frank’s goal; distraction was. He didn’t feel great about having to sit at the same table as his ex-wife, feet away from her new boyfriend, when the wounds of his divorce still ached. He didn’t need you to make out with him in front of everyone; he just needed you there for moral support and to make him seem less like a single loser. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Not when he looked at you like that, beautiful blue eyes desperate and pleading as they locked with yours.
“Fine, but you owe me, Langdon!”
“Anything you want!”
As the date got closer, you began to wonder how you were going to pull this off. Frank was your best friend, nothing more. Sure, there were moments, moments where Frank made your heart race, moments where he crossed your mind as you rubbed your clit, moments where you wondered what would happen if you leaned in and kissed him while you watched TV on your couch. But you had learned to ignore those moments, convincing yourself that your relationship was strictly friendly.
And now, here you were, standing in front of your mirror, waiting for the chime of your doorbell to signify Frank's arrival to pick you up. The sound came a moment later.
“Wow, you look great!” were the first words out of Frank’s mouth when you opened the door.
He looked great too, in a black suit with a dark blue tie and shirt that matched your dress, a design choice you had agreed on to support your fake relationship further.
Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Frank’s eyes scan every inch of your body twice before he held his arm out. “Shall we?”
–
On the ride to the venue, you went over your story once again - you were the sister of a friend Frank made in rehab, you had been dating for 5 months, and were madly in love. You even agreed on your own signal if things became too much for Frank: a hard squeeze of your hand.
The ceremony went by quickly and easily enough, but you knew the hard part would be the reception. Once you had found your table and claimed your seats, you began to sell yourselves as a couple, Frank proudly introducing you to all his old friends, your hand in his. As he rambled on, catching up with his buddies, you couldn’t help but revel in how nice his hand felt in yours, how natural it felt, like you had been a couple for years. Your brain was so caught up in daydreams of being Frank’s for real that you didn’t notice he had stopped talking, but you did notice when he squeezed your hand. Hard.
There she was. You had only seen pictures of her, and she was beautiful in those, but her in-person beauty left you feeling small and unworthy of Frank, even as a fake girlfriend. Frank and Abby exchanged some pleasantries, Abby sharing that the kids were at her mother’s and she had checked on them recently, before introducing Greg, her new boyfriend. Frank introduced you back, with significantly less confidence than he had when introducing you to his friends. It pained you to watch Frank’s confidence deteriorate so quickly, and after another moment of small talk, you acted.
“You know honey, I think I just saw them put out some fresh shrimp cocktail at the apps table, we should go grab some. Nice meeting you, Abby!” You dragged Frank away, waiting until you were well out of earshot to speak again.
“Hey, you kind of fumbled out there. You okay?”
Frank couldn’t meet your eyes. “Yeah. Just sucks. I was kinda hoping it wasn’t true. But she looks so much happier without me. It’s not even that I still want her, I just…she moved on so fast, feels like I meant nothing.” he choked on his last words as if he were holding back tears.
“Let’s go home, Frank. They’re married already, you did your due diligence as their friend. Let’s just leave.” You suggested.
Frank shook his head, finally bringing his eyes to yours with a smile, as if he hadn’t been ready to sob a moment ago. “It’s okay. It looks worse if we leave. I can do this.”
“You sure can, boyfriend!” You returned a smile as you led Frank back to your table.
—
Dinner went fairly well, the distance between your chairs and Abby’s providing enough relief that Frank was slowly returning to his normal, confident self. You talked, laughed, and took pictures, all with Frank’s hand either holding yours or resting on your back. There were even several moments throughout the night where Frank’s hand found your thigh under the table, completely out of view of anyone, leaving you wondering who it was supposed to be for. You missed his hand the second he pulled away every time, looking forward to the next time it happened again.
Frank even managed to drag you onto the dancefloor. You weren’t a great dancer, but all fears of embarrassing yourself faded the second Frank placed his hands on your hips to lead you in a slow dance. Without even thinking about it, your arms came to wrap around his neck as you danced.
You both suddenly found yourselves lost in each other’s eyes, momentarily forgetting where you were, and desperately fighting the urge to close the gap between your lips. Frank seemingly broke before you did, leaning in slightly just as the song came to a close, snapping you both back to reality. You pulled away from each other, sharing a laugh before Frank led you back to your table.
--
The good time came to an abrupt end when the MC announced the dreaded bouquet toss. Normally, you wouldn’t have participated, but jumped to your feet when you saw Abby get up. You didn’t care about having the bouquet for yourself; you just didn’t want her to have it and make a scene that could ruin Frank’s improving mood. You underestimated your athleticism, however, and Abby was able to easily catch the stupid thing, joyously running back to the table to plant a huge kiss on Greg’s lips as the upbeat music faded into a slower love song.
Frank’s expression was neutral as he watched them, but you knew he was breaking inside. You’d had enough of seeing him hurt today and decided it was time for a grand finale of your fake relationship plan. You walked back to your table, hand outstretched to Frank. He shook his head, but you kept your hand out, silently demanding he take it. He did so, and you led him back to the dancefloor, resuming the same position you had earlier - his hands on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck.
“This was stupid. I shouldn’t have come. I knew I wasn’t ready for this. I knew-”
But Frank’s ramblings were cut off as you did what you wished you had done the last time you were this close to each other.
You kept your lips on his for several seconds before pulling away. Even with the dim light of the dancefloor, you could see blush forming on his cheeks.
“I told you you didn’t have to do that.” Frank said with a chuckle before looking over your shoulder. “Besides, they weren’t even looking.”
“I didn’t do it for them.” You said as you brought your lips back to his. Frank deepened the kiss, bringing his hands up from your hips to your cheeks.
–
You left abruptly after cake, Frank’s hand glued to your inner thigh as he drove you home, a little too fast for your liking. Once you were safely back at your apartment, you practically broke the door off its hinges, clamoring to get in. Frank wasted no time, hands flying to the back of your dress to unzip it as he kissed you hard. Once you were fully bare, he walked you towards your bedroom, not breaking the kiss until you were lying on it, knees dangling off the bed. Frank sank to his knees in front of you, slowly kissing up your spread thighs and singing praises in between each hot kiss.
“You’re so beautiful!” “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” “Do you have any idea how much I’ve fantasized about this?” “God, I want you so fucking bad.”
You saw stars the moment his lips finally wrapped around your clit, each suck eliciting a loud moan out of you, and inching you closer to an orgasm. It wasn’t long until you were falling off the edge, your body having been so in need of this, of him. When you had finished riding out the wave of your orgasm on his tongue, Frank stood up and straddled you, crudely spitting in his hand and stroking his already leaking cock twice before slowly pressing into you.
Frank fucked you slow and deep, desperate to savor every inch of the body he had longed for. He kept his eyes glued to your pretty face the entire time, encouraging you to keep your eyes on his whenever you closed them. The intimacy between you was enough to spark a second orgasm in you, making Frank pick up his pace as he hurdled towards his own. With a final groan of your name, Frank spilled into you, and you wrapped your legs around him to keep him close as he throbbed within you.
–
You sat back on the couch with your glass of water, snuggling into Frank’s side as he wrapped his arm around you.
“Thank you again for today. Seriously. You were my rock.” Frank said as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. “Is there any chance you’d be willing to do me one more favor, though?”
You perked up, willing to do anything he wanted at this point. “What’s up?”
“I was gonna go out tomorrow night. Will you be my plus one and actually be my girlfriend?”
You laughed. “Fine, but you owe me, Langdon!”
He leaned in, kissing you deeply. “Anything you want.”
romaincrisis
snowghoul
2087
