it’s giving team-building of the pittlings with their new attending

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Xuebing Du

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@sourirensoleille
it’s giving team-building of the pittlings with their new attending
at a barbecue right now and i’m a little tipsy and im thinking about how sammy bryant would fucking love you as his little housewife.
uggghhh all afternoon he would feed you fruity drinks he made especially for you to make sure you’re all tipsy and giggly. he’s at the grill smiling to himself while you make all the sides for his burgers and hot dogs.
you give him a fat kiss on the cheek every time you pass him to put a new salad or potato dish on the picnic table in the backyard. he sees you flit around the party checking on everyone’s needs. and he has to start palming himself through his jeans because he’s so turned on by your cutie apron he bought you :(
and when everyone leaves he fucks you raw in the living room cause he can’t even make it upstairs to the bed. he’s so hard after seeing you serve food to his friends like the perfect hostess and cleaning up the house he bought for you.
and he begs to come inside you while panting in your ear “p-please babygirl. fuck im gonna come- need a baby on your hip at the next party. please please i need it- oh, oh fuck.”
jack abbot x wife!reader headcannons
cw: suggestive content, mostly fluff, jack is a #wifeguy
wife!reader who is adored by night shift. when she visits, mateo literally greats her as “hey mama”
wife!reader who bakes sweet treats for jack to bring in when he works
wife!reader who jack talks about so much at work that one time you visit there’s a patient currently being discharged who greets you by name. you’re obviously very taken aback by this but the older woman noticed your shock and throws out “your husband was my doctor! he would not stop talking about you. he’s great.” because of course jack gushes about you to his patients. with pictures.
BABY LOGIC jack abbot x f! reader | 1.5k fluff, suggestive themes, no use of y/n ft baby abbot and robby
Jack had always thought your daughter would grow up to be a genius. You were an emergency medicine resident, he was an attending, the knowledge transfer was bound to happen. That’s what anyone would’ve thought. But, boy was he wrong.
His adorable little pocket sunshine of a daughter is currently nibbling on his scrub top. Jack wants to chastise her, tell her it carries the worst of the hospital in it, but she’s six months old and incapable of comprehension.
What she was trying to reach? Milk. Your little one does not understand biology. That he can let it slide, no half-year old kid would know it. But shouldn’t she know by now that only her mom will be able to feed her?
Your beautiful daughter has recently discovered the ability to compare. Robby's lucky enough to be there to witness it in the living room, maybe looking too comfortable in Jack's house for Jack's liking.
He decides to forget that he invited him over for...something, then made coffee, then let you insist that he stay for lunch. Cause that implies he's contributed to his own suffering.
Okay. He usually does. He just really doesn't have the energy to admit to that today.
"Big cup. Little cup."
"I'm assuming the little cup is yours, of course."
She toddles everywhere, and you and Jack are sure she's toddler-high on the attention she's receiving from you three.
"Dada chair over there, my chair here. Mommy shoe is long, my is...not long. Not, not long. Small."
It's heart-burstingly adorable until it's not, when she pulls on Robby's arm.
"Uncle Wobby skinny."
Robby looks down at himself, then at you on the couch. You can only let out a surprised laugh.
"Beautiful, that's a little too unreserved for Mommy's liking."
And when you see Jack coming from the kitchen, Robby decides to snort rather than notice your smile flickering before you can stop it.
"It's okay. Thank you, I think? Very, uh, astute observation of me."
Maybe that's a mistake---to encourage the kid, cause she lights up when she turns to Jack.
"And Dada big."
Jack would never be the kind of boyfriend who waits outside of the store on some bench, collectively staring at his phone with a bunch of other bored guys who are waiting for their girlfriends to finish up shopping.
He's carrying your bags and purse for you so you'll have two free hands while browsing. And he actually looks out for clothes you'd like too, he's not even carrying his phone with him. He just needs his card and one of your scrunchies on his wrist because he knows you're likely to sweat inside of the changing room later.
He's silently collecting the clothes you're picking on his arm, occasionally dropping some of his choices on there too.
There's also a smol water bottle tucked into his back pocket which shouldn't even fit but somehow does and makes you stare at his ass way too often. He can't have his baby girl get thirsty and have no refreshment close.
He loves how you gasp when spotting a pretty summer dress or cute heels! You get so giddy and walk away from him fast, but he never loses sight of you, not once.
Jack's favorite thing to shop for is underwear or bikinis.
Because for that, you always need his opinion and he slips behind the curtain of the changing room, backing you up against the big mirror while dropping the bags and taking a reaaally good look at you.
"Jesus, baby...you're so fucking beautiful." while his hands roam over your waist, his thumb slipping just past your cute flimsy bottoms.
"Don't you think it's too short?" Aw, you're blushing. Jack is so fucking hard.
"Too short for what? Our private pool at the air bnb with no one except us there? No, baby, it's alright." He kisses your forehead, his hand caressing your underboob that peeks out from the bra top. "You'll gonna look fucking hot, I can barely contain myself now, do you know what you'll do to me once we're on vacation?"
That bashful smile is gonna kill him.
Even more than the cute bikini on his girl.
⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚ minors, do not interact, please ⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚
oh to be sleepily riding jack abbot, tummy to tummy, chest to chest. your soft arms thrown over his strong shoulders, chin hooked over the freckled skin. your head tilts against his, your rich hair rubbing against his silver strands as your ears kiss.
he’s got you in a bear hug— actually stops your movements just to hug you. to feel you in his arms and cuddle for a second because, at the end of the day, jack loves you. tells you every single day… he even tells you now.
...are you coming in or what? - j.a
pairing: jack abbot x nightshift!sunshine!reader
full pairing masterlist here (not necessary to read in order)
wc: 3.3k
summary: this thing with your attending ascends to a new level
contains: mdni! implied age gap, power imbalance, ooey gooey disgusting people having lovey dovey sex
a/n: this pairing is so special to meeee! please reblog if you like it, rbs keep your fav writers alive | beautiful divider from @andromeda-graphics
Jack Abbot holds his phone a full eight inches from his face, squinting and readjusting to the font on the screen. He finally registers the contents of the text you'd sent, and a slow, surprised blink flickers over his face.
You glance up surreptitiously from a patient's chart, clear on the other end of Central. Your heart is hammering as you think of your text, at how seditious it sounded, at least by your somewhat prudent standards.
If we get out of here at the same time, I'd love an escort home.
finally convincing Jack to take some time off so you can go on a couples vacation and going on a tropical cruise with dr sexy himself...
Jack Abbot in little aloha print swim trunks that only go down to mid thigh and show off his bubble butt. bare chested, back muscles on show, biceps out, freckles POPPING all shiny from where you've taken your sweet time slathering him in sun screen...
spends his time lounging about on deck chairs by the pool watching you splash about under the guise of reading whatever Tom Clancy novel he brought with him that he hasn't read a line of and readjusting himself so u don't notice that his chubby dick is half hard. rubbing lotion down your back and butt and thighs every other hour bc "Gotta get every inch of your pretty butt baby. Can't let my girl get toasted."
feeding u summer fruits when u inevitably crawl on his chest, more than ready to take a nap under the shade after all that swimming, thick fingers putting pineapple cubes and peach slices to your lips, "Open up baby," letting you suck them clean after, thumb swiping juice off your bottom lip while he gives you heated looks. "Mmm, good, yeah? You're all sticky, sweetheart." all condescending in ur ear like his hard-on isn't pressed right against ur butt.
looks so dreamy the entire time, hair ruffled from the sea breeze as he leans down to kiss you silly... naughty hands slipping under your bikini bottoms to squeeze at ur butt and thighs until u squeal n push him away. Thank god this cruise is adults only
getting a little too baked in the sun so dr daddy gotta take u back to ur cabin, peels your bikini off you all gentle before laying u down flat on the bed. tuts all disapproving, like he's not eating up the sight of ur itty bitty bikini tan lines, hands itching to rub aloe gel all over his pretty lil girlfriend like the dirty old man he is "Uh uh, stop whining. I told you i gotta put sunscreen on you every hour, pumpkin. now look at you,"
barely containing his grin as he looms above you in bed, watching you sigh in relief and arch into his hands as he rubs gel on your poor, sunburnt titties, thumbs shamelessly rubbing your nips stiff as he gropes u. "S'ok baby i know it stings, i'll make it allll better, yeah?"
missing my sweetie big dick fictional man right now and thinking about how pope cody would have no idea he’s good at sex.
like completely clueless.
he would be on his knees, eating you out until you’re clawing at the sheets, eyes brimming with tears, spine arching like it’s about to snap. pope doesn’t even really know what he’s doing. he just makes sure to repeat everything that makes you clench around his fingers and twitch on his tongue. and you’re so close when he curls his two thick digits and sucks you into his mouth. your legs lock up.. your belly feels tight with tingles.. pleasure starts to rise almost alllll the way to your ears and…
he pulls away with a gruff “d’ya like that?”. and it’s not a sexy taunt. his tone is questioning and he’s being completely, utterly serious. you whine in frustration “andrew!!” he looks genuinely confused. “w-what?” your hips buck towards his mouth involuntarily, body aching with the need to come. “i was so close!” popes dark brows furrow in confusion. “you were…” it takes him three slow blinks while staring at your squirming thighs and fluttering pussy to finally understand. his eyes widen “oh shit- m’ sorry sweetheart..” then dives back in. sucking you and scissoring his fingers until you cry out his name and come on his face about twenty seconds later.
or or or. he doesn’t really understand how huge his cock feels inside of you. he’s aware he’s well endowed. but he thinks you’re just being a good girlfriend when you moan so loud at his first push into your tight pussy. pope always forgets that you’re not just stroking his ego. not quite understanding that your loud whimpers that accompany his thick length are authentic. he’ll thrust in and out of you harsh at the start. you can barely speak through the painful stretch of his rapid plunges. your gasps are choked “a-andy! andy s-slow down!” and he does get a little lost in the sauce as he watches your tits bounce beneath him. you have to slap at his shoulder to snap him out of it. “fuck- sorry. feels s’good. i’ll- hhnng- i’ll go slow. promise.”
then he’ll roll over until you’re on top of him. hands bracing his chest and thighs nestled firmly at his hips. he lets you set the pace to make sure he won’t hurt you again. it’s sweet.. until he won’t move again at all unless you’re bouncing up and down fervently. begging him to thrust up into you. “p-please! andy it doesn’t hurt.. need you- please!” once he decides you’re in no pain at all, he’ll grip your hips and piston up into you until you can’t move on your own anymore. completely filled with him. drooling at the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach. and pope is more than confident that you’re not exaggerating when you collapse with a raspy moan as you orgasm on his thick cock <3
Lazy morning sex with Simon Riley (18+)
The tiniest bit of light slips through the blackout curtains, traveling across the expanse of the room. It is hazy and grey, just before dawn, before the day becomes gloomy and wet.
You stare up at the ceiling, too awake to sleep, too tired to move, lost in thought about everything you would need to get done today. Pulling the sheets up, you cover your bare body after the air kicks on, the room becoming colder in seconds.
Simon rustles beside you, startling you in the perfectly quiet, still room. Gazing over at him, he props himself up on his elbow, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He clears his throat a few times before glancing over at you, not surprised to find you awake.
“What time is it,” he asks, voice rough and low, turning over towards his nightstand.
Just before you reply, you catch sight of the raw, red scratches running down the length of his back, proof of the pleasure felt the night before between you. Your cheeks heat up as the memory floods back to you, your thighs clamping together, doing your best to prevent the ache that had already started to bloom deep inside you.
Prone bone with Simon Riley (18+)
Simon is impossibly deep inside of your warm, wet pussy, thrusting so hard you scoot up the bed as he knocks the air from the lungs while the headboard bangs against the wall. A pillow is strategically placed under your hips so every time he slams inside of you it hits your sweet spot, and your clit catches on the wet material without fail. Your nipples drag across the soft fabric beneath you, your hands clutching at the pillows in front of you, all while you’re being fucked dumb.
“Fuckin’ slut. Wish you could see the way your pussy sucks me in,” he growls, his grip on you turning punishing, his face never faltering as he continues to drill into you from behind.
His fingers are tangled in your hair, yanking on it hard and keeping your head in place so your moans aren’t muffled against the mattress. His other hand is wrapped around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make it more pleasurable as your choked sobs ring out around the room.
His thick, long cock slides through your walls as he molds your pussy to be perfect for him. The veins and ridges leave imprints the faster he thrusts, the deeper he reaches, the harder he grinds. Every knock to your cervix leaves you breathless, every brush against your sweet spot has pleasure shooting through your body, and the longer he abuses your poor pussy, the more you beg for it.
“P-please Si, please,” you manage to say, gripping onto the sheets for dear life, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust but trying to run from it all at the same time.
neighbor!simon riley who can't say no to you asking him for help (and still does things without you having to). pt.1
ever since asking simon for help on your car, it's like a floodgate has opened up. first you're asking him for help on your car, and the next thing you know, he's in your house every few days with a new repair you've roped him into. he doesn't talk much. actually, you haven't been able to get another word out of him since he was on his back, under your car.
you've tried, you really have, but the bastard won't give in. you think he's just closed off—in reality, simon's heart is beating a mile a minute, and his mind is repeating over and over again not to make himself a fool in front of his pretty neighbor.
so you figured that asked him to help around your house would do the trick, luring him into your space in order to open him up. it's not like you'd get around to these tasks yourself. they just weren't your area of expertise.
and for a decently new house, you sure had a lot to be repaired.
first, it was those squeaky hinges on some of your doors. now, in the beginning, you were still hesitant to wander over to his front door to get his help, but after his eagerness the first time, it gave you the confidence to return. simon was in your house faster than you were, already taking a guess as to which door it was—since he knew his way around from bringing in groceries and such. armed with a lubricant and a few other tools, he got to work. within a few minutes, they were good as new. you couldn't thank the man before he was out the door.
it was off-putting, but you were still determined. it was unlucky that the first thing you asked him to do took only a few minutes of his time, and even less for cleanup.
with every day that passed, you were grasping at straws. how could you get this man over here? your house was in perfect condition, and you barely saw the recluse of a man, as he remained in his house most of the time. save for the times he takes in your groceries or takes your bins out, you don't see him.
until you notice something odd.
coming home from work—this time, your car light remains off—you get out of your car and notice a bit of chopped grass that's been left behind. with furrowed brows, you took a moment to look at your lawn.
what are the chances that, after living here for a few months, the grass doesn't decide to grow?
yeah, none. the bastard has been doing it for you, and you never noticed. he never mentioned or made a big deal out of it, and somehow, it got missed on your motion activated doorbell cameras that has a perfect view of the lawn. even the hedges are trimmed.
so what do you do? take the opportunity to stop over to his doorstep, rapping your fist on his door until he opens. eyebrows raised, ready to take on the next task at your house, he steps out and shuts the door behind him. with a nod, he gestures you to lead the way.
except you don't have a repair for him. "have you been mowing my lawn?" the words spill from your lips before you have a chance to reign yourself in. the absurdity of the situation is making you loose-lipped.
his eyes widen, and you swear you see a faint blush on the pale skin behind his balaclava. he just nods, gaze softening as he stares down at you.
"thank you." you sputter out, in shock at his brazen admission. he just nods again, and you're at a loss for words. how do you keep his attention, keep his eyes on you? "well, I'm gonna need your help planting flowers."
planting flowers? that's all you could come up with? your face flushes with embarrassment, bracing yourself for his reaction. the man could easily say no because mowing the lawn and changing your lightbulb and fixing your squeaky door hinges is considered masculine. you could've insulted his masculinity by suggesting he plants flowers.
but he just stares at you some more. "let m'know when," and he shuts the door in your face.
but you turn around with the goofiest smile on your face and pump your fist with a soft "yes" before skipping back down the path and road towards your house just next door. little do you know, simon's face wears a smile just like yours as he watches the dorky display.
he can't wait to help you again.
Simon Riley when you are ovulating (18+)
When you are ovulating, Simon’s cock weeps from overstimulation, but he never complains.
You’ve been riding him for who knows how long, and he’s on his… actually he can’t even remember how many times he’s cum. You’re feral, truly feral, bouncing up and down his length, sitting down fully until his tip is pressed against your cervix and leaking precum. Grinding down on him, your hands fall to his chest, digging your nails into his skin to steady yourself as he writhes beneath you.
He’s a whimpering, whining mess, cursing under his breath, with his eyes rolling to the back of his head when your pussy clenches down on his length. Every time your ass slaps against his thighs a breath of air is knocked from his lungs, leaving him gasping and clutching the bunched-up sheets around his limp body.
“C-can’t take anymore l-lovie,” he stutters, placing both hands on your hips, but instead of moving you away, his own hips buck up just to feel more of your warm, wet walls around his aching cock.
Sammy complains about putting on weight but all you do is reassure him by cooking him stuff he can’t say no to.
He’s pretty insecure about it, pulling his shirt down. Always wanting to keep a shirt on.. but how could you hate it? More for you obviously. He’s always saying ‘I think you want me to get fatter’
So soft and pudgy, just the way you like it.
Simon Riley who can't sleep without you・₊✧
tagging: @angel444riley
thinking about Simon Riley who can't sleep without you. he'd wake up breathless from a nightmare, breath uneven. his fists clenched, that familiar military instinct to grab his firearm shooting pure adrenaline through his veins.
his mind is still stuck in that post dream state, mission still fresh in his mind as he scanned around in the darkness, eyes starting around the shadows for any sign of movement.
soft breathing beside him broke through his haze and he squinted, catching sight of your figure sleeping soundly next to him, calm and breathing.
safe he thought, reassuring - forcing himself to take a breath as he tried to calm down, the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears.
you stirred, feeling the rustling of his unrest.
"si?" you mumbled sleepily, turning towards him. his eyes softened. even half asleep you were still attentive, still worried about him.
he was quick to wrap his arms around you, warm and strong around your body as he pulled you against him. the knot in his chest loosened at the contact of your body against his, the tension in his shoulders fading as he buried his face in your neck - breathing in your scent.
still here he thought, closing his eyes in relief.
"shh lovie, go back to sleep" he replied huskily, settling against you.
you relaxed back into his arms, resting your cheek against his broad chest as sleep took over you again.
other nights when he'd wake up without you, he'd panic. dread settling in as he grasped the sheets next to him, seeking out your presence only to find it empty. he'd sit up wide awake, alert only to exhale when he heard you moving around in the bathroom, light shining beneath the door.
when you'd come out and see his expression, the left over anxiety in his eyes you'd rush over, cupping his face and smiling when he melted in your hold.
"still here" you'd whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
his eyes would close at the contact of your lips, shoulders dropping and he'd wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto the bed. you'd giggle at the abrupt action to which he smiled, the sound erasing whatever post nightmare plagued him and grounding him in the sound.
with you in his embrace, right where you belonged, he'd drift slowly back into slumber. peacefully.