#abbotlangdon

[brawlite]

i know i've said it before but i think that fucking frank langdon within an inch of his life would fix robby. and it would fix frank. and it'd fix robby's relationship with langdon. and maybe if jack helped, it would probably iron out the relationship between robby and jack, too.

what i'm saying is that a fully fucked-out, sweaty, panting frank langdon twisted up in robby's sheets would fix everything. it's simple math!

[two-headedm0ther]

Thinking about Pup!Whitaker and Pup!Langdon and their respective owners Jack and Robby

Jack invites Robby and puppy frank over for a play date and let’s just say Michael was astounded at how well behaved puppy Dennis is, compared to his snotty nosed, loose lipped mutt.

Frank was always a sweet boy when he wanted to be. Most of the time he turned his tail up at anyone else, acting as if he were better than any puppy or daddy around. Of course he would nevvver act like that around Jack, noooo Abbot ran a tight ship whether he held the key the his collar or not; disrespect was not the be tolerated.

So here they sit Robby and Abbot sitting on a leather couch in Jack’s living room watching or more like observing the pups playtime. Den held a brown teddy bear close to his chest, a small burgundy collar bound around his throat and a cute tan matching shirt and shorts. He watched puppy Frank discard a rope and pick up another out of the litter of toys he had scattered around him. Dennis picked up the rope and started to naw on it, silly puppy.

Frank dropped the squeaky he had and tried to snatch the rope from Den, who had a surprisingly tight grip on it. Dennis snarled while Frank tipped trying to snatch it back from the boy. Frank whipped his head towards his owner flashing those baby blue eyes, Robby sighed leaning forward placing his hand on his neck. “Maybe we can let Den play with the toy, look at all the ones we brought.” He tried to reason but, just like the spoiled brat he is Frank whined.

But before Robby could coddle him anymore Jack intervenes. “Uh uh.” Dennis drops the toy and Franks ears are basically pinned to his head, barely holding onto the toy anymore. “You’re being a rude puppy, Frank. Is this how you treat others?” He doesn’t even sound like he’s asking Frank. “No it’s not seems like you’re too use to my friend here giving you everything you want.” Frank whimpered, folding in on himself, eyes darting between his owner and the one one reprimanding him right now. Michael just shrugged his shoulders.

Jack looks over his shoulder, “Maybe you need a stronger hand a little bit more discipline.” Robby nodded, petting Whitaker on the back of the head, silent permission.

Jack grabs Frank by the back of his blue collar dragging him to the nearest room with a door, closing it and locking it. It’s not long before yips and yowls are heard from the room along with the sound of hand hitting skin. “I’m sorry sir, I’m a rude bratty puppy, I’m sorry, really!!” It just kept flowing out, maybe he was finally learning his lesson.

Jack always had a softer hand for his puppies, especially Frank. Robby tried to keep the smirk away. Maybe all puppy Frank needed was a stronger hand and Jack could provide it. Frank could be a good boy after all, he just needed a little push.

[13-ontheshore-26]

wondering what the first thing i’ll write in the new year will be…next chapters of hucklerabbot fic? part two to hucklerobby lingerie? langdon pining for hucklerobby with angst and smut? huckleabbot punishing their subs robby and langdon? rabbot overstimulation? omega dennis heat in public? robby taking in malnourished werewolf dennis maybe?

the thoughts are actually endless…lmk thoughts…..mwahhh

[langdonmd]

But You Take Me To Cloud Nine — Day five of The Pitt Kinktober — Dirty Talk for → @pittkinktober

Frank Langdon/Jack Abbot Rated: E Word count: 1,416 No beta we die like the rat Summary: Abbot finds out that Robby is fucking Langdon and gets jealous, so he pays a visit to Frank to see why his best friend picked his senior resident instead of him.

[brawlite]

ok i know i'm on a little bit of a hookup app kick, but all morning i've been thinking about frank really getting the chance to explore himself in his mid-thirties. learning some things about himself that he never knew.

he's no longer trying to race through college, through med school—all while simultaneously marathoning through the heterosexual dream of a beautiful wife and 2.5 children and a white picket fence. amicably separated and living on his own for the first time since college, with so much time to kill and with his feelings no longer numbed by outside sources—frank realizes he likes men. it's a holy shit kind of revelation, something that truly knocks him off his feet for a good week, leaving him reeling and off-balance.

and he doesn't exactly have the world's closest friends to talk about this with. so what's there to do other than download an app or two? look around. get his feet wet.

frank keeps his profile pretty anonymous, faceless. says he's inexperienced, freshly out of the closet. figures there's no reason to lie and hey, people seem to like it. he hooks up with a few guys and it's good. great. life-altering, honestly.

it's when he's got the app open after a long shift that he gets a message from a guy who spikes his interest. older. fit. upfront & direct. is free now, just like frank. and a profile pic of a torso that makes frank's mouth water. except the other pictures, as frank flips through them, are more damning. they make frank's heart skip in his chest. because that's jack fucking abbot smirking back at the camera like he wants to eat whoever's looking at the picture. and frank wants to let him.

[brawlite]

frank langdon going belly up at any sign of conflict my fucking beloved. makes me feral. someone ravage that man, please.

[brawlite]

share a little monday indulgence with me: frank almost gets assaulted, fights his way away after clocking someone in the face, and then runs into jack and robby outside the bar in which this happened.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86782286

[brawlite]

wip wednesday

i was tagged by @veliseraptor to post some of my current wip! ty pal!! this is a remix of something i've already written ;)

tagging anyone else who wants to share theirs (pls!!)

--

“You want me to try and reach out to him?” Jack asks.

He could double back to the hospital and get his hands on Langdon’s personnel records. Get his phone number, his address. If Langdon won’t answer his phone, he might be back at home now. Jack could show up, suss out what was wrong with Langdon, figure out what made him drop by Robby’s uninvited in the middle of the night and then leave, presumably before Robby woke up.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Robby tells him. He sounds so tired.

Jack rounds the corner to his own block. It’s a street lined with mid-century ramblers and a few old specimen trees towering every few houses, each stark against the dull grey morning sky. It’s a nice neighborhood. Quiet.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Thanks, brother,” Robby says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jack’s house is third on the street. It doesn’t take long to come up on it, ear pressed to his phone, and it takes even less time to clock that something is amiss. There’s a figure sitting on Jack’s front stoop, a man, hunched over himself, head in his hands. The mop of brown hair is immediately recognizable.

Frank Langdon.

Jack walks up to his house like nothing is amiss, but he slows his gait so that he’s not coming in quite so hot, so aggressively with boots hitting the ground. Frank looks up. Jack assesses him, quick as a shot. His face is a fucking mess. Eyes red, cheek scraped. And it takes a second to clock it -- at first Jack figured, hoped, it might have just been shadows -- but there are dark bruises circling his throat.

He stares at Frank. Frank stares back.

“I’ll let you know if I see him,” Jack says into the phone.

“Thanks,” Robby says. His voice sounds far away, but maybe Jack’s just too present right here, right now. Too busy staring at Robby’s lost resident.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Call me if you need anything.”

He hangs up. Slides his phone into his pocket and stands half at rest in front of Frank.

Frank doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Jack with his big fucking kicked-dog eyes and looks a little bit like he’s about to get up and sprint his way out of there, presumably like how he jetted from Robby’s sometime between last night and Robby’s call, and Jack doesn’t want that to happen. Frank looks dead on his feet. He looks like he could use some medical attention.

Jack shifts in the middle of his front walk. He looks at Frank, then looks at the door.

“It’s kind of wet and cold, kid,” Jack says. “You want to come inside?”