Yandere! model who forces you to be at every one of her shoots, or else she starts being hard to deal with which is surprising because she's one of the most valued out there.
She struggles to let you out of her sight and goes crazy if you're not there. It's all pretty well known within the industry that she can't survive without you, to the point that you've started being paid for just being there.
There was one time she was modelling for a designer company, and you were too busy with your own life to come so she had to go alone.
She comes into the set, all the colour practically draining from her face. "[Name]! Where are they?!"
All the workers remember the horror of watching her crash out.
"Ma'am, they're not available so you'll have to do this alone today," one of the workers that she deems "useless" explains.
"Well, I want them here!" she starts the tantrum.
The shoot was cancelled completely that day and you had a tear-stained model on the ground of the mansion that she paid for.
"[Name]! Where were you?" she shoots up, about to burst into sobs again.
"No, no, don't cry," you mutter, wiping the tears that managed to escape. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
"Why don't you just quit that dumb job? You're so much more than that!" she complains. "All the workers today were just testing me and I couldn't handle it."
You know she's lying but all you can do is bite your lip and promise you'll be there next time. It's a much better choice than having to deal with it.
Summary: Johnny can’t stop fiddling with his wedding ring—at home, in public, even in battle. She finally asks why, and his answer leaves her speechless.
The first time she noticed it, they were at home.
Johnny was sprawled on the couch in his usual lazy sprawl—feet kicked up on the coffee table, TV remote in one hand, a bowl of popcorn in his lap. With his other hand, he kept twisting his wedding band around his finger, sliding it up and down the joint, spinning it absentmindedly.
She watched for a minute, amused, before nudging him with her foot. “You’re going to wear a groove into your skin if you keep doing that.”
“Huh?” Johnny glanced down, as if surprised to find the ring in his hand. He shrugged, grinning. “Can’t help it. Feels nice.”
She shook her head, but the habit didn’t stop.
The second time, they were out in public.
Sue had dragged them both to a gala Reed couldn’t wiggle out of. Johnny looked uncharacteristically sharp in a black suit, hair perfectly styled—for all of ten minutes before he ruffled it up himself.
She caught him standing off to the side of the ballroom, fiddling with his ring while a small group of admirers tried to flirt with him. He wasn’t even paying attention to them—he was too busy twirling the band between his fingers, eyes searching the crowd until they landed on her.
When she crossed the room to rescue him, he slipped the ring back on with a smirk. “Guess it’s obvious, huh?”
“Painfully,” she murmured, slipping her hand into his.
The third time, she finally asked.
It was early morning. She padded into the kitchen, still wearing one of his t-shirts, to find him leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee. His hair stuck up in every direction, his eyes half-closed, but there it was again—his thumb rolling the ring around and around like he couldn’t stop.
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been doing that for weeks. What’s the deal?”
Johnny blinked at her, caught. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a sheepish grin.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
He set the mug down, turning the ring thoughtfully. For once, his cocky bravado slipped away, leaving something rawer, softer.
“It reminds me it’s real,” he admitted. “That you’re real. That you actually chose me.”
Her breath caught.
He laughed nervously, looking down at the band gleaming against his tanned skin. “You know me, babe. I’ve screwed up more times than I can count. I’ve blown stuff up, set things on fire, made a mess out of just about everything in my life. But this?” He lifted his hand, showing her the ring. “This I got right. You. Us. And every time I spin it, it’s like—yeah, I didn’t dream it. I’m actually married to you.”
The kitchen was quiet, sunlight spilling across the counters. She stared at him, heart swelling, and for once she was the one who couldn’t find words.
Johnny stepped closer, slipping his ringed hand into hers, pressing their palms together. “You’re gonna laugh, but sometimes when I’m scared—like really scared—I mess with it. Reminds me I’ve got something worth coming home to.”
Her throat tightened. “Johnny…”
He smirked faintly, though his eyes shone. “Told you it was sappy.”
She shook her head, pulling him down into a kiss that said everything she couldn’t put into words. When they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his, whispering, “It’s not sappy. It’s perfect.”
Johnny grinned, pressing his lips to her temple. “So you’re saying you don’t mind if I keep fiddling with it?”
She laughed through the lump in her throat. “As long as you don’t lose it.”
“Babe,” he said, holding up his hand with mock solemnity, “I’d set myself on fire before I let that happen.”
And she believed him—because Johnny Storm had many flaws, but when it came to her, his heart had always burned steady.
your brother is hosting a summer barbecue for his coworkers, and you’re going through the ringer in your relationship. robby hates your boyfriend, you meet jack abbot for the first time, love romance kiss kiss etc.
“Hey, sorry- I don’t know you, but can you help me with this really quick?”
You’re standing at the far end of the hall with a precariously balanced tray full of raw hamburger patties in one hand and an ice chest that’s about to dislocate your shoulder in the other. The long white linen sundress you’d chosen to wear to Robby’s barbecue had seemed like a good idea at the time, but you’d already managed to get ketchup and lemonade on it, and you were not at all eager to add raw meat to the mix.
The man that was wandering past the hall when you’d called out to him is now staring at you, only pausing for a moment to process your request before hurrying down the hall to give you a hand. You didn’t think you’d ever met him before, and as he comes to a stop right in front of you you’re sure of it; there was no way you’d forget such a good looking man.
“Thanks so much. I overestimated myself I guess.” You say with a breathy laugh, handing off the ice chest to the man and feeling immediate relief. “I’m just taking these out back.” He takes it with ease, but you’re surprised when you also feel the large tray of meat being taken off your hands.
“Oh no, you don’t have to-”
“Please, let me.” He replies with a friendly smile. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face in response.
“Thank you.” He nods, waiting for you to direct him.
You lead the man quickly down the hall and through the kitchen, sliding open the door to the backyard that is now even more packed full of people than it was when you came inside twenty minutes ago.
“Hey brother!” You hear Robby’s voice call from somewhere behind you, and you gesture to the mystery man to set the things down on the folding table by the grill.
When you turn, Robby is approaching, lifting both hands to clap the man on his shoulders with a grin.
“Didn’t know if you were actually gonna show up, man.” Robby says, and the man turns around to clap him across the back in a hug.
“And miss out on meeting your pretty friend?” The man jokes back, grinning at you as he speaks to Robby. “How could I do that?” Heat burns across your cheeks at the man’s compliment, and Robby barks a laugh.
“I see you already met my little sister.” Robby looks to you with emphasis, and the man’s head whips back and forth between you and Robby a few times, the charming grin on his face fading a bit in realization. You roll your eyes at Robby and his insistence on calling you his little sister, you were nearly thirty.
There’s a look on the stranger’s face that you think you can take as pleasant surprise, but it’s hard to tell. He takes off his sunglasses now and you’re caught off guard by the force of his blue eyes holding yours, but you know exactly who this man has to be.
“You must be Jack Abbot.” You smile, extending a hand. “Sorry for so rudely putting you to work before actually asking your name. That shit was really heavy.” You say with a laugh.
Jack grins back at you and takes your hand in his, the much larger calloused palm encompassing your entire hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” He says, eyes still holding intense contact with yours. You aren’t sure if it’s the summer heat or something else making your cheeks and chest flush so much.
“All bad things I’m sure.” You reply jokingly, eyeing Robby who scoffs back at you.
“Fifty fifty.” Jack says back matter of factly, crossing his arms over his chest when you part hands. His arms… wow, it definitely was not just the summer heat making you feel flushed. Thick muscular arms, tanned and covered in freckles lay folded across Jack Abbot’s chest. You have to do a mental double take to make sure you’re not staring at the man’s torso with your mouth hanging open.
“Oh please!” Robby’s groan breaks you out of your trance, and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“Well don’t worry, I have only heard glowing reviews about the great Dr. Abbot from my brother.”
“Now that I know is a lie.” Jack barks a laugh.
You can’t help but laugh back, and Robby simply shakes his head with an amused sigh.
“I should’ve known to keep you two apart from one another. This is a dangerous duo.” Jack eyes his friend as he speaks, a small smile slipping onto his face before he responds.
“Too late, buddy. I’m best friends with the better Robinavitch now.” You laugh loud, grinning at Jack as Robby puts on a dramatically wounded look.
You snap out of your haze of laughter when you hear your name being called across the yard.
“Babe!”
Your boyfriend Max is jogging toward you, a frisbee in his hand.
“Yeah?” You ask, turning toward him a bit as he approaches. You catch a strange current of annoyance flitting through you at his interruption of your conversation. It was unlike you to feel so short tempered with him, but lately…
“Can you put my stuff inside for me? We’re gonna play ultimate frisbee and I don’t wanna crack my phone.” He states, already handing you his cellphone, wallet, keys and hat. “Thanks babe.” He pecks your cheek quickly before running back to where he came from. You see Mateo, Shen, and a few of the other guys from the hospital that you’ve met before gathered at the far end of Robby’s yard, and Max launches the frisbee toward them as he runs.
When you turn back to your brother and his coworker, they’re looking at each other as if silently communicating something they don’t want you to know. Jack catches your eye first, seeing the clear look of curiosity on your face, and clears his throat softly.
“Want me to take Max’s shit in?” Robby asks. “I have to go grab the tongs anyway.”
You fight back the eyeroll you want to shoot at Robby and shake your head. He had stopped trying to even pretend he liked your boyfriend about two months after you’d started dating.
“It’s fine. I have to go back in too.” You start walking up toward the house’s back door but turn over your shoulder as you go. “It’s really nice to finally meet you Jack.”
He smiles back at you and gives a short nod of agreement as you step into the house.
Robby is only a few seconds behind you.
“I’m just saying, it would’ve taken just as long for him to put his own stuff on the counter instead of sending you around like an errand girl.
You grip the handle of the drawer in front of you harshly before taking a deep breath and turning to face your brother.
“You are so overdramatic. I don’t want to do this today Robby.” You say resignedly.
“I don’t either. Let’s tell him to leave.” He says back with a stupid grin. You huff and dump Max’s stuff on Robby’s kitchen island before circling around, crossing your arms and leaning back on it as you observe him.
He shoves a collection of metal utensils around loudly in a drawer before pulling out what he’s looking for, clicking the pair of tongs at you twice before setting them down.
“Robby. I’m serious.” You know he must hear the exhaustion in your voice, because his previously sarcastic smile has dropped in concern.
“Is everything okay?” He asks, placing the tongs on the counter in front of him and mimicking your stance.
You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and pick at the chipping nail polish on your fingers.
“I really didn’t want to talk to you about this today.” You finally start with a sigh. Robby is looking increasingly more stressed every second, so you know you need to spit it out. “Max got that promotion he was going for. They’re making him the head of his department.” You trail off and chew your lip, unable to meet your brother’s eyes.
“Why is that a problem?” Robby asks, clearly not following.
“They’re making him the head of his department in Florida.” You finish with a sigh, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. Robby’s face remains blank as he stares back at you. You can see the gears spinning rapidly in his mind as he stays silent. “He asked me to go with him.” You go on. “To Florida.”
“Yeah. I got the Florida part.” Robby finally says dryly. He rubs a hand over his beard slowly, staring off at nothing. “When?”
“He has to be there by the end of July.” Next month. “The company already has some apartment options lined up.” Your voice is getting smaller and quieter as you speak.
“Good for them.” Robby huffs. You run a hand over your face.
“I didn’t want to do this today Robby!” You huff.
“When were you planning on telling me then? When I got a postcard of you and this dude at Disneyworld?!” His voice has risen a bit and you throw your hands up in frustration.
“You are so impossible!” You shout.
“Me?!” he shouts right back. “You just moved to Pittsburgh this year. I’ve been trying to get you here for years, you finally come, and now Max wants you to pack up your life and move down to Florida with him like some retired married couple?” You groan loudly, bouncing up from where you were leaning on the counter.
“Shut up! Are you capable of shutting up?!”
“Yes!” Robby shouts back petulantly.
“I didn’t want to talk to you about this today because I’m not going!” You yell, smacking the counter with both hands. “As soon as he asked me I knew I couldn’t go.” You continue more quietly, staring down at where your hands are clenched into nervous fists.
Robby is silent for a few moments before finally replying.
“So what, you’re just gonna do long distance?” You choose to ignore the obviously happy tone laced in your brother’s words and his quick pivot from chewing you out- But you remain silent, unable to meet Robby’s eyes. “Hello?” You sigh softly.
“No.” You say, almost silent.
“No?” Robby repeats in confusion.
“No. I’m not going to do long distance.” You cover your face with both hands and continue speaking, muffled a bit. “When he asked me, I knew right away that I couldn’t move to Florida. Not now at least.” You shake your head. “But then Max asked me when I thought I would be willing to. If it would be a few months, a few years. Started talking about how his grandparents live nearby and it would be a great place to raise a family.”
“And?” Robby asks for you to go on.
“And… I just realized that all of those things he was talking about… a future. I just couldn’t even begin to picture it.” You sigh and continue. “I mean, I want those things one day, but I couldn’t picture them with him.” You meet Robby’s eyes, crossing your arms over your chest once again as if trying to hug yourself. Your brother is staring back at you with wide eyes and a mouth parted in shock.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He isn’t even trying very hard to hold back his jubilant grin.
“You are seriously the worst. Ever.” You huff, spinning to walk out the back door.
“You’re breaking up with him?” Robby asks giddily, following after you.
“Wow, please shout it louder Robby!” You whirl on him and hiss. “Are you stupid?”
He’s completely ignoring you, doubled over in joyful laughter.
“This is the best barbecue of all time. This beats when Dana set my shed on fire last year by miles.” You shake your head at him and start back on your exit path, but turn straight into the solid, hard chest of Jack Abbot.
You try to jump back and nearly trip over your ratty flip flops, and he pops out an arm to steady you by the shoulder.
“Sorry.” He starts. “I heard shouting and wanted to make sure you weren’t in here brutally maiming Robby or anything.” He says with a barely there smile. You hear your brother snort from behind you, still having a giggle fit at your expense.
“If you had shown up a minute later that may very well have been the case.” You deadpan. Without another word, you rip the tongs out of Robby’s hand and leave the two men in the kitchen, heading straight for the grill.
Not only was your brother making the already very stressful situation of your quickly expiring relationship worse, you did not have the mental capacity to deal with the whole finding out his long time friend and coworker who you’d always pictured as a faceless old man was… well, the opposite of that, let’s just say. Seriously, there should be a rule that men have to warn you when they’re friends are super ridiculously hot before you meet them. Just for mental preparation purposes.
You get to work on laying out the first round of patties on the smoking grill, glad to keep your hands and mind busy and off of the current storm brewing in your personal life.
You don’t notice when Robby and Jack exit the kitchen about five minutes later, the latter’s eyes glued on you thoughtfully as he follows your brother across the yard.
****
By the time you only have one more round of burgers to grill, Robby’s backyard was packed. Two of the younger residents, Dennis and Trinity, along with a med student you hadn’t met before named Victoria showed up with a comically large insulated tote bag full of potato salad, chips, and even a few packs of beer.
“Um, I am most definitely making Robby venmo you for all of this.” You said, eyes wide as they unloaded all of the goods onto your folding table.
“Someone got a little carried away at the grocery store.” Trinity says pointedly, and Dennis lets out an offended ‘hey!’ followed by something about being a good guest as he unloads the last container.
You just chuckle and shake your head at the group.
“Hey guys.” your brother comes up from behind you with a bright smile pointed at the three new arrivals.
“Hey Dr. Robby. Thanks so much for having us.” Dennis replies with a grin, twiddling with the cardboard on the beer case beside him.
“Glad you guys could make it.” Robby says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You guys didn’t need to bring anything though.” You watch as your brother’s face drops into a thoughtful frown.
“Oh hey, let me see your phone real quick.” You ask him, holding out one hand while the other dishes the finished burger patties onto a tray.
Robby tosses it to you and you swipe in, easily locating the venmo app (there had to be some perks of your older brother being a successful doctor, right?) and beginning to type. You try Trinity’s name first but nothing comes up. Then Dennis, and a contact pops to the top titled Dennis W. There’s a profile picture of the younger doctor wearing a scrub cap and gown and absolutely covered in what you hope isn’t blood, grinning straight at the camera.
You shoot a glance up over the screen to where Robby’s hand is still resting on Dennis’s shoulder and they’re deep in animated conversation about something you missed. You laugh quietly to yourself, before sending the kid fifty bucks.
“Here.” You toss the phone back to Robby with no warning and it nearly smacks him in the face, making you snicker. Dennis is pulling his own phone out of his jeans pocket, and the expression on his face is nothing short of mortified when he peers down at the screen. He whips his head up to look at Robby, then you.
“Uhh…” Dennis stammers, and the pause makes Robby glance down at the boy’s phone in curiosity. Processing what Dennis is clearly looking at, Robby simply chuckles and shakes his head, looking over at you.
“You could’ve at least given the poor kids a tip for lugging that giant bag all the way here, too.” He jokes, giving Dennis’s shoulder another squeeze before gesturing with his head to the three of them. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to sit. Almost time to eat.”
You watch for a moment as the group walks away, unable to ignore the bright red coloring on Dennis’s face and his delay in following the rest of the group, as if his brain is buffering.
“At risk of sounding crazy, are you seeing what I’m seeing here?”
The deep voice speaks from behind you and you jump, whirling around in surprise.
“Ah! You snuck up on me!” You say with a breathy laugh as Jack grins at you, eyes flicking back over your shoulder to the retreating group. You freeze up a bit at how close the man is standing to you, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne that you didn’t catch earlier. It makes you want to take a deep inhale and lean closer.
“Sorry.” he says then. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just coming to see if I could help bring anything over to the table.” He nods his head toward the grill where a tray of perfectly cooked patties now sit. “Don’t want to leave my job unfinished.”
You’re staring up at him dumbly, you know it but can’t help yourself. He’s so close and his voice is so low and sweet and he smells so ridiculously good-
“Hey babe.” A hand is placed against your back and Max comes into view, breathing hard and grinning. “We just destroyed in ultimate frisbee. Did you see?”
You feel like a terrible person, because the voice of the man that you'd found sweet and likeable the majority of the time up until about a week ago is suddenly grating on you like nails on a chalk board. You tear your gaze away from Jack and meet Max’s gaze.
“No, I missed it. That’s great.” You try to sound as interested and cheery as possible.
“It was.” He nods with a grin. “Gonna go wash up to eat. Food looks great.”
It all happens in slow motion. Max is leaning in to kiss you, as he often does, as is a normal thing for a boyfriend to do to his girlfriend. But almost as if you are completely out of control of your own body, you feel yourself leaning away, and then stepping away, and then placing a hand up against Max’s chest to effectively stop him.
His head jerks back and a confused expression slams across his face.
“Uh… oh, sorry.” You shake your head, bewildered by your own actions. “Sorry. I’m not feeling well.” The lie slips out so awkwardly you cringe at your own voice. Max just stares back at you with raised brows.
“What?” Is all he says, hands dropping to his sides defeatedly. “You never stop my kisses.” He’s frowning now and you literally feel the urge to throw up in your mouth. Had speaking your impending break up aloud to Robby somehow shifted some course of the universe, making you suddenly disgusted by your own boyfriend? “Are you mad at me?”
Your face was on fire, burning with a mixture of frustration at this whole situation and absolute embarrassment knowing Jack Abbot was standing right behind you witnessing this ridiculous conversation. You hear the man clear his throat and busy himself with the food.
“I need to talk to you.” The words rush out in some sort of hushed shout, and you grab Max’s forearm and practically drag him up the porch steps and into the kitchen.
Jack is left standing at the grill, fighting the urge to let his gaze trail after you as he carries the burgers over to the table full of his coworkers.
****
A grueling twenty minutes later, you’re standing in Robby’s kitchen alone as the front door shuts with finality.
Max hadn’t taken it very well, though you truly couldn’t fault him for that. This was the absolute last way you would’ve planned on doing this whole breakup thing but… when you know you know. Right?
You rest your forehead on the cool tile of the counter and sigh. You feel strange that there’s no urge to cry, no welling sadness in your throat. You suppose that’s a good sign, but what does it say about you? Are you some kind of loveless robot?
Your spiral is interrupted by the squeaking sound of the back door. When you look up, none other than Jack Abbot is standing in the doorway with a plate in one hand and two beers in the other.
“Uh. Hi.” He speaks, somewhat awkwardly, and all you can do is chuckle and shake your head.
“Hi.” You reply quietly, standing up straight and facing the man. He takes a few more hesitant steps in and you gesture for him to join you.
“I um…” He trails off, as if weighing whether or not he actually wants to keep speaking. “I made you a plate. Didn’t want the chef to miss out, and those med students are practically rabid.” He’s speaking with the tone of someone trying to make an extremely awkward situation more lighthearted, and an overwhelming feeling of fondness bursts in your chest as you watch him.
“That’s for me?” You ask, pointing at the plate. He nods fervently and hands it out toward you. You take it in both hands, observing the overfilled paper plate full of everything there was to offer out there.
“And this.” He adds, holding out one of the beers. “Or both,” he then says with a quiet laugh. “If it’s that kind of… barbecue.” He trails off awkwardly.
You watch him silently for a moment before snorting out a laugh. This poor man just met you today and is trying to navigate your relationship shortcomings with the grace of a saint.
“I’m guessing I don’t need to tell you where Max went.” Is all you say, jumping up to sit on the counter and taking a deep drink. Jack just stares at you for a moment in thought.
“I think I’ve got it pieced together.” He says with a quiet, sorry laugh. You nod, pursing your lips.
“Robby will be devastated, obviously.” This cracks Jack’s serious demeanor, and he scoffs a laugh that he tries to cover by clearing his throat.
“Yes, of course.” The man nods, not meeting your eyes. “Pity. Max seemed like a real…” for a moment you genuinely think Jack can’t come up with a single complimentary thing to say about your now ex, until you realize he’s joking back with you. “Nice guy.” He finishes with a tight smile.
The heat and haziness swirling in your mind as your stare at Jack bubbles up and you begin laughing so hard there are tears coming out the corners of your eyes.
When you finally get yourself under control, you look up to see Jack standing there, hands in his pockets, with a soft smile on his face as he watches you.
You sober up immediately, feeling hot and prickly under his steady gaze. You straighten up a bit on the counter and shimmy awkwardly.
“I think you’ll be just fine.” He speaks up. You stare back and slowly nod a bit, as if saying you trust he’s right. You will be just fine.
“Thank you for the food.” You say softly. “That was really thoughtful.” He just shakes his head as if it was nothing at all.
****
You end up taking your now half empty beer and very full plate out to the backyard with everyone else. Robby’s eyes follow you from the moment you step outside, Jack holding the door for you, until you find an empty seat at the end of the long table full of guests.
You sit down next to Dennis, and your brother leans backwards from his spot on the other side, tapping your shoulder.
“You okay?” He mouths. You nod back and give him a quiet smile.
“All good.” You respond, but Robby is looking above you. Jack gives him a quiet nod of assurance that you barely catch before taking a seat on your other side.
“Good.” Robby then says with a smile, peering back at you with a strange glint in his eye.
You shake your head at him with a puzzled smile that asks ‘what?’
He simply shakes his head back, patting the back of your head and turning back to the table.
****
The rest of the barbecue passes with people sharing animated stories up and down the table, your favorite by far being a dramatic telling of Dennis capturing a rat that was loose in the ED with his bare hands.
You’re doubled over in laughter on the table, nearly knocking over the punch Mateo had brought you a plastic cup of, though you had no idea what was in it or if there was anything other than straight alcohol that could qualify it as punch at all.
You grin over at Dennis who’s blushing furiously beside you and shaking his own head in laughter, but it’s Robby’s hand once again resting on his shoulder that catches your attention, making you smile softly to yourself.
People begin filtering out, many needing to get home and sleep before their shift in the morning.
You’re sitting at the now mostly cleared out table, tapping your plastic fork rhythmically against it.
A hand rubs lightly at your back.
“Hey girl. We’re headed out.” You stand to give Victoria and Trinity a squeeze.
“We need to see each other again soon.” You reply earnestly. “You guys are welcome over to my place literally any time.” They both smile and nod enthusiastically, with promises to plan something next time they have a day off. They collect Dennis, who Robby had stolen away to show off his motorcycle (boring), and make their way out of the yard to the car.
“Closing time.” A deep voice hums, and Jack steps around to face you. “You staying here tonight?” He’s looking down at you as he asks the question casually, but you can tell he’s genuinely wondering what your plan is.
“Jack Abbot, are you worrying about me?” You hear yourself giggle like a young girl and know you’re being a little bit embarrassing, but you’re having too much of a nice time to care very much.
“Maybe.” He replies instantly, no hesitancy in the man’s voice. He pauses before speaking again, voice low. “That okay?”
You blink a few times, hard, and you feel the tips of your ears burning. With a swallow you just nod stupidly up at him.
“Yeah.” You say breathily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”
Jack’s soft smile grows, and you want to reach out and trace it with your finger.
Woah, slow down. You literally broke up with your boyfriend less than three hours ago, and met this man not long before that.
Though you had heard about him through Robby for years… but that wasn’t the point! You needed to snap out of it.
“Um, honestly no, I was planning on going home tonight. I have work in the morning, and so does Robby obviously.” You look off in sudden stress about how exactly you’ll be getting home.
“Not to overstep, but I caught Mateo making that ‘punch’” he air quotes, “and the only nonalcoholic liquid in it was one can of lemonade. You probably shouldn’t be driving.”
You snort a quiet laugh.
“No, no, I know. I didn’t even drive here though.” You trail off, reality creeping its nasty way past the haze of such a fun night. “Unfortunately my ride has been… compromised.” You huff with a self deprecating laugh.
“Ahh.” Jack replies in immediate understanding. “Well I’ll take you home.” He states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh no no. I don’t want to make you do that.” You quickly say, shaking your hands in refusal. “I live the opposite way from the hospital.”
“Well luckily, I don’t live at the hospital.” Jack simply whispers back with a grin, jerking his head toward the house. “Come on. I’m happy to.” It was true that you actually had no idea where he lived, but you felt equally bad about asking him to do you the favor, and excited about the possibility of being in his car with him. The combination was making your nerves jump and zap from your fingers to your toes.
“Really, Dr. Abbot. You’ve done more than enough for me already today.” You follow after him still shaking your head, but the man is set in his tracks. Robby comes around the corner from sending off the remainder of the guests and his eyes land on the two of you. You all slow to stop as you meet.
“Headed out?” Your brother asks both of you, then turns his attention to you. “Before filling me in on the great news?” He can’t help the silly smirk that sneaks into his face. You groan and roll your eyes.
“Nevermind. Get me out of here.” You bark at Jack, wheeling past Robby and smacking him hard on the arm as you go.
“What?!” He exclaims, voice full of laughter. “I just want a quick replay of how it went down. Did he cry?”
“I’m going to kill you!” You shout over your shoulder, not stopping your path straight out the back gate and to the front yard. You have no idea what Abbot’s car looks like, but you make your way out to see only Robby’s car and an unfamiliar faded blue Jeep parked on the curb.
You pad up and lean against it, the cool metal from the night air pressing into your skin.
You stand there for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the quiet night street around you. Clearly you would be accepting Jack’s offer.
You can’t hear either of the men talking in the backyard, but there’s suddenly an echo of Robby’s loud laughter floating toward you. Only a few moments later they appear, Jack digging something out of his pocket before tossing it to you clear across the front yard. You thankfully catch the keys before they clatter to the ground.
“Great, I’ll drive!” You say jokingly, unlocking the car and sliding into the passenger seat. Jack only laughed and shook his head, turning back toward Robby. You were far too comfortable with this man you’d only met a few hours ago, but to be fair- you knew he’d been like family to Robby for years now, and Jack had witnessed a great deal of your personal life in the short time you’d known each other. Sometimes people just click, right?
You carefully stick the key in the ignition and start the car, hearing the engine rumble a bit before coming to life. Cool air hits you and the radio begins playing soft music, a song you can almost recognize but not quite place.
You peer back out the window to see the two men speaking seriously to one another, and when Robby looks up and catches your eye they quickly wrap it up. They both walk over to the car, giving one another a quick clap on the back before Jack rounds the Jeep to get in the driver's seat and Robby pops your door open.
“Leaving without saying goodbye, sister?” He puts on a mock sad frown.
“You huff in annoyance, and he just stares at you for a long quiet moment, clearly lost in thought.
“I’m just messing with you.” He sighs before continuing on. “Are you okay, really?” He looks down at you earnestly.
“Honestly…” you sigh, twiddling your fingers in your lap as Jack slides into the car next to you. “Yeah.” The man’s words from earlier replay in your mind. “I think I’m gonna be just fine.” You smile softly up at your brother. His gaze flickers to the man sitting behind you and a fond smile falls over him.
“Yeah.” Robby nods. “You are.”
****
When Jack pulls up at your apartment complex, a short ten minute drive from Robby’s house that you find yourself wishing could last a lot longer, you don’t want to say goodbye. You’ve sobered up enough that the nerves racing through your body are putting you you completely on edge, catching yourself staring at the man every few seconds from the corner of your eye. You sigh softly as he puts the car in park.
“It was really nice to meet you Jack.” You unbuckle and turn in your seat to face him. “Thank you so much for the ride. And everything.” You give him a genuine smile, trying to communicate how much it really did mean to you.
“It was my pleasure.” He replies, and you swear your heart skips a beat at his quiet gravelly tone.
You know you’re staring at him, you know it’s time to say goodnight and get out of the damn car.
You don’t.
“I hope I get to see you again soon.” Is the most you can muster, eyes refusing to meet his and instead staring somewhere near his collarbone. You focus on the dark blue material of the t-shirt he’s wearing, and how it clings to his freckled skin…
“I would like that very much.” Your eyes snap up at his earnest reply.
Your heart is hammering a million miles per hour and it feels like the car just rose twenty degrees.
“Really?” You sigh before you can stop yourself, all caution or fear of embarrassing yourself thrown to the wind. The man is simply staring back at you, not a hint of judgement or inhibition in his features.
“Yes.” He nods, nearly whispering. You’re suddenly talking again.
“At risk of making myself look like a total train wreck cliche trying to hook up with her brother’s best friend the day she got dumped, I have to tell you that I really, really want to kiss you right now.” It floods out of your mouth before you can even think to stop it. Blame the summer heart, Mateo’s punch, or simply Jack Abbot’s stupid beautiful face only a few inches from yours, but it’s out in the open and you can’t rebottle it.
“You didn’t get dumped.” Is all he says, finally, eyes dropping to your lips for a millisecond before boring into your own again.
You’re on him in seconds, hands grasping for purchase on his shoulders and trying to pull him as close as possible with the awkward angle and center console in between you. When you feel Jack’s hands snake up into your hair and pull you ever so slightly tighter against him you let out a sigh and completely let go.
This is the best kiss you have ever experienced, and it’s not even a little bit close.
By the time you both pull away, you’re panting heavily, eyes wild and face flushed. Seeing the same effect on Jack Abbot, knowing it was from kissing you… it takes everything in your power not to tackle him again.
“Um. Sorry.” You eventually get out with a squeak. He stares back at you like you’ve lost your mind for a moment, or maybe he’s lost his, and suddenly his hands are on your arms, your back, your waist, pulling you in as tight as possible as your lips crash back together.
By the time Jack Abbot gets you to the door of your apartment, your lips are swollen and you feel like you might pass out right then and there. You shove your key in the door after a few attempts and turn toward the man.
“I don’t know what to say.” You laugh, looking at the floor.
“Say yes to getting dinner with me tomorrow.” Jack responds firmly. You look into his face and see earnest, honest hope that makes your heart do backflips in your chest.
“Yes.” You whisper.
With a final peck to your cheek, you slip into the apartment and say goodnight to Jack Abbot.
Until tomorrow.
****
(8:37pm) Robby: So are you and Abbot engaged yet or what?
(10:00pm) You: I’m blocking this number. Goodbye forever
(10:04pm) You: Why didn’t you tell me your best friend is HOT?!
(10:05pm) Robby: If I’d known it would’ve gotten you to break up with that jerk I would have introduced you years ago
Summary: When Frank receives a desperate phone call from his best friend’s daughter in the middle of the night, he immediately grabs his keys and makes his way to the bar she called him from, like he’s done so many times before. Her liquid courage gets the best of her and, alone, the only thing keeping their hands off each other are their morals. However, Frank Castle’s never been a man of high morals.
Warnings/Tags: Dad's best friend, Age Difference, Soft Smut, Older Man/Younger Woman, Top Frank Castle, Jealous Frank Castle, POV Third Person Limited, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Creampie, Soft Frank Castle, Frank Castle is Not The Punisher
Word Count: 5.5k
Inspiration: “Twilight Zone” by Golden Earring, the hundreds of pov: Frank Castle is your dad’s best friend TikTok edits
It was late into his first Saturday night off in a while when the incessant sound of his phone ringing woke him up. Still half asleep and sore all over, he tore the phone off his bedside table, squinting at the harsh light of the screen and ignoring the pile of mess he’d sent falling to the ground due to the abrasive movement.
Frank blinked a few times, attempting to get his vision to adjust on the contact name floating across the top of the phone screen. However, his heart nearly stopped when he realized it was her, calling him at half-past two in the morning.
Wasting no time, he yanked the charger cord out and sprung up in bed, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Mallory?”
Loud music came blaring in from the other end of the line. “Franky,” the girl sang into the phone, slurring and giggling. “Hey.”
Dragging a hand down his tired face, he sighed. “Mal, it’s two in the morning. What’re you doing?”
He knew what she was doing—she was partying. It was the same thing her father, his best friend, had droned on about when the two went to dinner the other night. His long-time friend was worried about his daughter’s so-called newfound lifestyle since coming home from college a semester early, concerned she was hanging around all the wrong people, getting into all the wrong places.
“I’m at some bar—Rachel, Rachel,” she called out to a friend, one Frank hadn’t heard her mention before. “What’s the name of this place? Huh? Oh, The Twilight Zone. I’m at The Twilight Zone, Frank.”
“That’s great, Mal,” Frank said, nearly falling asleep sitting up. “Why’re you calling me, sweetheart?”
She giggled down the line. Even over the sound of rock music playing in her background, he heard it. “Say that again.”
“What?” Frank’s brows furrowed.
“Call me sweetheart again,” she laughed. “I like it.”
His chest rose, inhaling sharply. “Mal…”
It was obvious she was drunk and out with friends. She only ever called him when she was. Still, Frank found himself worried about her safety, wondering if she had a sober ride home, or if she was being looked out for.
“Can you—Can you come get me?” Mallory said down the line, slurring and stumbling over her words in a way that made Frank’s stomach knot up. “I miss you.”
Dropping his head, the muscle in his tight jaw ticked.
Presumably noticing his apprehension, even in her state, Mallory added a sweet, “Pretty please.”
He imagined her standing at the bar with her phone pressed to her ear, pushing out her glossy bottom lip with those big, round, brown eyes of hers and that familiar ache warmed his chest.
“Not a good idea,” Frank stated plainly because it wasn’t.
“Please, Frank,” the girl on the other end of the line pleaded. “I don’t have a ride home and you know Dad’s gonna be pissed at me if he finds out I took a taxi,” she whined.
Her father worked with Frank in the homicide unit. No one in their right mind—after seeing all the things they’d seen—would let a woman, of any age, take a taxi home alone late at night.
“He’d be much more pleased if you drove me home,” Mallory added and he could hear her smirk through the phone.
If he could read the thoughts that plagued Frank’s mind regarding his daughter, he wouldn’t.
Frank’s shoulders sagged, exhaling slowly. “What’s the name of the bar again?”
Mallory giggled. “The Twilight Zone.”
Swinging his legs off the side of his bed, he told her, “I’ll be there in five.”
When Frank pulled off to the side of the quiet city street, the neon lights littering the exterior of the bar filled the dark interior of his truck. His eyes scanned his surroundings, analyzing the group of young people jaywalking across the road and made sure to check his rearview mirrors twice before hopping out.
He didn’t waste time calling Mallory back to alert her of his arrival. He knew she wouldn’t answer.
She never did.
Slamming his truck door closed, he took one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it and stomping it out with his boot. Stepping up on the curb, he made his way through the bar’s entry door.
It was a dark place, reeking of smoke and cheap tequila. With each determined footstep, his boots clung to the sticky flooring and he kept his head on a swivel, searching for any sign of the girl who’d brought him all the way across Queens to this bar.
The Killers’ “Somebody Told Me” was blaring from the surround-sound speaker system and there were a few girls dancing on top of the lively bar in short leather shorts and cropped tops.
Frank knew this wasn’t a place where he’d ever willingly show his face, but it was right up Mallory’s ally.
He searched for her blonde hair in the ocean of unknown faces, forcing himself through sweaty bodies and ignoring odd glances from people who must have caught on to his incongruous presence.
She was seemingly nowhere to be found. As usual, he thought.
Nostrils flaring, he inhaled sharply and made a beeline for the bar.
He didn’t know why he thought it would be a quick and easy pick up this time. Mallory never did anything quick and easy. Perhaps that’s what he liked about their situation—the twisted little game of cat and mouse.
Propping himself up on the last empty barstool, he caught the attention of a bartender and then proceeded to finish what she'd made him all within just a few minutes. He asked for another, knowing he would regret it the next day, and kept his back to the bar, scanning the vivacious crowd for any sight of Mallory.
It wasn’t until he was nearly finished with his second drink that he finally saw her.
It was nothing more than a glimpse, really. He second-guessed himself at first, wondering if he’d just mistook one girl for another. However, when she took her friend's hand and twirled herself around to the rhythm of the song, making direct eye contact with Frank through the slight opening in the horde of people between them, something akin to a chill crept down his spine.
The corner of his lip tugged up at the sight of her, dressed in barely anything at all. Her denim shorts were tight around her curves and her white tank top was nearly transparent, putting the red, lace bra she had on beneath it on full display.
For some reason, the sight of it pissed Frank off.
His jaw ticked as he went to finish his drink in one final gulp, slamming it back down on the counter behind him.
Mallory had a sloppy grin on her face, watching Frank as he pulled some cash out of his wallet and handed it over to the overworked bartender without breaking eye contact with her.
He didn’t make his way over to her like he usually did, though. No, Frank wasn’t going to do that tonight.
She was going to have to come to him for a change.
Finishing the drink in her hand—some fruity little thing, Frank assumed—her smile slowly faded into something a tad more sinister when she realized his intentions. However, she seemingly didn’t mind it, Frank noticed, because she made her way over to him without much of a fight.
“You came,” she said once she reached him, raising her voice to combat the loud music.
She stood between his legs like it was nothing, toying with the uneven strings of his hooded sweatshirt. He glanced down at her fingers, the way she twirled the fabric around them, before flicking his dark eyes up to hers. Even sitting, she was so much shorter than him. Her neck craned up to him.
“You called,” Frank replied, tone even despite the heat coursing through his veins.
His eyes fell again, but this time to the red lace poking out from beneath her top. His finger traced it, causing goosebumps to appear on her smooth skin. “What’d I tell you about wearing shit like this?”
She frowned up at him. “You don’t like it?”
“That’s not the problem, sweetheart,” he told her. “Problem is other people liking it.”
A smug grin spread across her full lips. “Are you jealous, Franky?”
He rubbed his jaw, concealing his smirk before moving to grip the hem of his sweatshirt. “Here,” he mumbled, bringing it up over his body. “Put this on. It’s freezing outside.”
She backed up a bit, giving him the space to partially undress, but Frank caught the way her sluggish brain lapsed on the brief view of his stomach when his T-shirt raised.
When he handed her his sweatshirt, she pushed her arms through and tugged it over, laughing sloppily when she noticed it nearly reached her knees like all of his clothes did on her.
“Come on,” Frank coaxed her. “Let’s go.”
By the time Frank helped Mallory into the passenger seat of his truck and they started off down the one-way city street, his mind was already reeling. It didn’t help when Mallory reached over and began messing with his stereo.
“Ah,” she breathed, falling back in her seat and smiling to herself as Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire” echoed from the radio. “I love this song.”
Frank kept his eyes trained on the terrain before him, but his ponderous brain hung on to every one of Springsteen’s lyrics. He’d heard the song a million times; it was one of his favorites. But, for the first time, he actually understood it because he, too, felt completely on fire.
He was burning with emotions he couldn’t yet name. Guilt, shame, desire, pain.
The young blonde girl next to him rolled the passenger window down, eager to drape her arm out of it. As the brisk night air came through, blowing her long hair all over the place, he felt something like a dagger press to his chest.
Rolling to a halt at the stoplight, Mallory glanced over at him, brows furrowed at the fact that he’d flicked his turn signal to the left, towards her dad’s place, and not the right, to Frank’s.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Frank sighed. “I’m taking you home, Mal.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” he countered, scoffing as the song drifted into the next.
She frowned. “You don’t want to spend time with me?”
Head turning in her direction, the sadness on the girl’s face immediately registered in his brain. Like some sleeper cell spy, the look awoke something inside of him. His chest caved. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” She was quick to reply.
“We can’t keep doing this, baby,” Frank said without much thought. “It’s not right.”
“You weren’t worried about what was right two weeks ago when your dick was—”
“Mallory,” he cut in, narrowing his eyes on her, but the visions still came flashing back to him.
The fluorescent red of the stoplight illuminated the rather serious expression on her face. She didn’t flinch when she countered, “Frank.”
He shook his head, knuckles whitening around his leather steering wheel.
Taking her home was the right thing to do.
Frank Castle never did the right thing, but, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to now. He wanted to do right by her. She didn’t deserve secret hook ups with a man twice her age. She didn’t deserve any of him. She was too good for him—too innocent compared to the pure filth that filled his mind when he thought of her.
When Mallory’s hand fell on his thigh, triggering an electric shock kind of reaction to the skin beneath his jeans, he was pulled from his thoughts.
“Please, Frank,” she begged in a soft tone. “Just for tonight?”
Her hand grazed further up his thigh, causing his entire frame to go rigid. Once the softness of her touch met the bulge forming between his legs, he exhaled roughly.
“I know you want to,” Mallory purred, voice barely above a whisper, but just as sharp.
Frank sucked in a sharp breath, nearly wincing at her touch as he gripped her hand that was moving in tauntingly slow motions along his suffocating length. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed.
She cocked a brow. “See?”
He chuckled under his breath despite himself, letting go of her wondrous hand. The control she had over him was lethal, her touch even more so. Beneath the pleasure consuming him, he still clung to his clarity.
“You’re drunk, Mal,” he said, attempting to reason with her. “I need to take you home.”
The sound of her unbuckling her seat belt rang like an alarm in his tired ears. Folding her legs beneath herself, she sat up further on her knees to reach him better over the center console that separated them.
“Frank,” she whispered, her hand moving to the buckle of his belt, tugging slightly. Her lips were mere inches from his ear, prickling the skin with her warm breath. “Please.” Her cold hand ran up his core, nails digging into his tense abdominal muscles. “I need you.”
Turning to her, causing their lips to graze one another's, Frank’s features softened.
“Please,” she pleaded once more, eyes searching the darkness of his.
Slightly frustrated but writhing with tension, Frank reached for his turn signal, flicking it the opposing direction before swerving into the other lane just as the stoplight flashed from red to green.
Pleased with herself, Mallory grinned ear-to-ear and fell back in her seat.
Frank’s jaw ticked when he glanced over at her once more, eyes scanning her sitting with his sweatshirt draped over her frame. “Buckle your seat belt,” he instructed.
She giggled, complying without a fuss. “Yes, sir.”
Frank fumbled with his keys when they made it to his townhouse.
Mallory was shivering and stumbling over her own feet, her soft features illuminated by the lone lamppost on his street. Her hand was intertwined with his free one, keeping her body pressed to his as they entered the dark interior of his home.
Dropping his keys on the entryway table, Mallory shut the door behind them.
Her eyes wandered about the place while she kicked off her shoes. “You cleaned up,” she noted.
Frank turned to her. “Mm-hmm.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “Why, what?”
“Why’d you clean up?” she clarified, her plucked brows knitting together as her neck craned to look up at him.
He coughed out a laugh, slowly closing the space between them. “I don’t know…” he trailed, shrugging his shoulders. “Got tired of the mess, I suppose.”
She side-stepped him, twirling around to switch places with him. “Did you have someone over? Wanted to impress them?”
“What?” Frank laughed again, shaking his head.
“Did you have a girl over, or something? Is that why you cleaned?” Mallory pried, analyzing the lack of dust on the tabletops and dishes piled up in the sink in the kitchen a few feet away.
“Mallory…”
Her eyes shot back to him, still a bit lagged due to her intoxication. “Did you?”
He took a slow step toward her, hands slipping around her slim waist. “No, baby. I didn’t have anyone over.”
She squinted up at him, searching for the lie that wasn’t there. “You promise?”
Tilting his head, he asked, “What? You the jealous type now?”
Her hands pressed to his chest in an attempt to shove him back, but he didn’t even budge. “I’m not jealous.”
“Right.” He smiled down at her. “Well, now you see how I felt when you brought that little prick to dinner last month.”
She couldn’t help the smug smirk that appeared on her glossed lips.
“I had to sit there and watch you,” he stated, reaching down to grip the hem of the sweatshirt he’d given her to wear. Lifting it, Mallory worked with him to get out of it.
Tossing it on the floor at their feet, fire coursed through Frank’s veins. “While he touched your thigh under the table,” Frank whispered, his hand grazing up her arm. “While he kissed you.” His hand cupped the side of her face.
Her brown eyes peered up at his. “You didn’t seem to care,” she countered, pulling him closer to her by the buckle of his belt.
“Because I shouldn’t,” he told her, thumb moving to trace the softness of her bottom lip.
She let out a shaky breath. “But you do.”
“I do.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, breathing faltering as she reached her arms around his neck, forcing his head closer to hers. “Show me, then.”
“Show you I care?” Frank asked.
“Mm-hmm,” she replied, nodding.
With little-to-no effort needed, he picked her up, hands gripping the bare skin of her thighs as her legs tightened around her waist.
They had been in this exact position so many times before, it almost felt normal. It didn’t feel wrong, nor did it feel like something worth hiding. But it was—it was both of those things.
Her lips crashed on his, the taste of her strawberry lipgloss tainting his mouth as they worked in sync with one another.
Frank walked her to the living room, slowly lowering her down on the couch without breaking their kiss. She kept her arms around his neck, forcing his face as close to hers as possible.
He held himself over her, grinding his hips into hers like it were muscle memory. His erection pressed to her needy core, causing her to moan into the kiss, which only sent a shockwave through his already-fried nervous system.
Using one hand to hold himself up, the other reached down to her thigh, lifting her leg higher so he could feel more of her.
Her hands moved to his back, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, silently begging him to remove it.
Breaking the kiss, he sat up for barely a second, just long enough to pull his shirt over his head before he crashed back down on top of her, lips moving the crook of her neck this time.
Head tilting back, digging into the pillow beneath her, Mallory’s lips parted as soft pants escaped her.
The sounds she made were always his favorite. The softness, the innocence. It drove him absolutely mad.
“Frank,” she breathed, nails digging into the bare skin of his back as she continued to grind her hips against his bulge. “I want you.”
His lips planted kisses down her neck, working towards her chest, fingers pulling down the strap of her tank top and red, lace bra. Panting, he glanced up at her, barely registering her words through the thunderous rhythm of his own heart. “What’s that, baby?”
Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He knew she was close already.
“I want you—I want more,” she slurred, her tone pleading and desperate.
“I know, I know,” he repeated, lifting himself back onto his knees. “Not here, though.”
She peered up at him, her lips swollen and trembling.
“Go upstairs,” he instructed her as she slowly sat herself up on the couch before him. He smiled softly, finger looping around the strap of her tank top and bra. “And take this off,” he added, snapping them against her skin.
Smirking, she climbed off the couch, not bothering to fix the way her denim shorts had rode up her hips. Before running off, she leaned down to press another kiss on his lips. “Five minutes?”
When she pulled away, he nodded. “Five minutes.”
Frank idled on the couch for a few minutes, listening to the soft sounds of Mallory’s footsteps up his staircase and taking his belt off, letting out a shallow breath at the slight relief.
He was so hard, it was painful.
When he finally made it upstairs, inching towards his bedroom door, he hesitated for a moment. A multitude of thoughts and feelings flooded him when he peered through the crack between the door, spotting Mallory’s naked frame already tangled up in his bedsheets.
He wondered how long he would do this for. How long he would neglect his morals for her—how long he would risk everything for her. However, it only took a second or two for him to realize he would do it forever, if she allowed it.
He would do just about anything to her—and for her—as long as she allowed it.
Pushing open the bedroom door, he took strides towards the bed, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as he went.
Mallory flicked her gaze up to him, which he only caught through the dim outdoor lighting shining through his bedroom window.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
Stepping out of his jeans, he felt the blood rushing to his dick just due to the sheer thought of what she looked like beneath the sheets wrapped around her body.
“I’m okay, baby,” he told her, crawling on the bed towards her. “Come here,” he coaxed, rolling flat on his back and pulling her on top of him.
She complied, straddling his waist, causing the sheets to fall and leaving her bare body exposed.
His hands moved from her thighs all the way up to her perky tits, cupping each of them with his hands that covered them entirely. “God, you’re so perfect,” Frank whispered, grazing his thumb over her pebbled nipples.
By way of a response, she leaned down, bringing her face to his and grinding her hips over his erecting through his boxers as she went. She kissed his lips, his cheek, and then his neck as she slowly worked her way down him, pressing soft kisses to his skin all the way to the waistband of his boxers.
Frank ran his fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face so he could watch her work to remove his boxers.
His chest rose as she slid his boxers down his leg. He helped her by kicking them off, spreading his legs slighting as she sat back on her knees between them.
With her eyes trained on his hardened length, she chewed on her bottom lip as she worked her hand on it, gripping and twisting in all the right ways.
Watching every move she made, Frank grunted with each one of her gentle strokes.
She was always so gentle. He liked that.
After glancing up at him for a brief second, she brought her mouth down to his shaft, sticking her tongue out as she licked from the hilt of it to the tip, sending shocks of electricity through Frank’s core.
“Fuck,” he breathed raggedly, tangling his hands in her hair as she took as much as she could in her mouth, saliva dripping down as she worked what she couldn’t fit with her hand. Moving quicker, she suctioned her mouth around him, tongue drawing circles as she went.
“Fuck, yes, baby. Just like that,” Frank moaned.
He wanted to move her hand. He wanted to work his dick in her mouth, fucking her tight throat. But he wouldn’t.
He didn’t want to be rough with her. Not with her.
The combination of watching her gag as she tried to take more of him and the overwhelming sense of pleasure coming over him was forcing him on the edge, but he didn’t want to finish yet. He wanted to feel her.
Tugging on her hair, he instructed, “Come here, baby.”
She sat back up on her knees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she returned to straddling his waist.
He wrapped his arm around her, flipping the both of them over in one swift motion so he would be on top of her.
Lips moving back to hers, he moved his hand down to her core. Just the gentle touch had her moaning incoherently against his lips.
He took himself in his grasp, positioning his tip with her soaking entrance.
As soon as he slowly entered her, her lips broke from his. Her head tilted back, lips parting as she sucked in a sharp inhale.
“Does it hurt?” Frank asked, making one slow thrust in her.
She bit down on her lip, shaking her head. “No. It–It feels good,” she muttered, nails digging into his biceps. “So good.”
“God, you’re so wet,” Frank whispered into her ear as he continued making slow thrusts, gripping the sheets beneath them in an attempt to tame himself. Head drooping into the crook of her neck, he placed a kiss on her shoulder.
“Frank,” Mallory said, but it came out like a moan. When he didn’t respond to her, she repeated, “Frank.”
His head shot up, motions halting. “You okay?”
She nodded assuringly. “I, um,” her words trailed and he did his best to ignore the way she twitched around him.
“What is it, baby?” Frank said, voice gruff and hoarse.
“I want it, um—” she exhaled roughly, hesitant, “I want it… rough this time.”
“Are you sure?” he asked because he surely wasn’t.
She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“I don’t wanna—”
“Hurt me,” she filled in, already too-knowing. “I know.” She shook her head. “You won’t.”
Frank remained still for a moment, eyes searching hers as he thought over what she was asking for.
Pulling out of her slowly, he moved his hand to the back of her neck, forcing her to sit up.
Once she was on her knees, chest rising and falling frantically, he let go of her and twirled his finger. “Roll over on all fours.”
A sly grin spread on her face as she followed his orders, positioning herself on the bed before him on her hands and knees.
Frank sat up on his knees, aligning himself back with her dripping entrance.
Holding his hand out before him, he spit on his fingers and smeared it on her swollen clit, spreading her arousal where she needed it the most.
In response, Mallory’s back arched just as he slipped himself back inside her.
Sliding in deep, he gave her a second to adjust to him again before sliding out and repeating the motions repeatedly.
With every thrust, her upper body melted deeper into the mattress, moaning incoherently as her ass clapped against him. His hands gripped her hips, cursing under his breath as he slammed himself deeper.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, back curved in a way that drove him mad. “Harder. Harder, please.”
He complied, thrusting himself in her with more force, causing the bedframe to hit the wall.
Hand sliding up her back, he clenched his fist around a chunk of her hair, pulling hard. Her head lifted off the mattress in response, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her face—the faces she made when he was fucking her.
His hand moved to her throat, forcefully bringing her to him. As her back became flush with his, still arched in a way to move her hips on his shaft, her head fell back on his shoulder.
“Oh, my God,” she panted, doing most of the work herself as Frank kept his hand tight on her throat. “It’s so—it feels so fucking good,” she cried out, rotating her hips on his length in a desperate way.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he muttered in her ear, watching her ragged pants with her body nearly limp under his touch. “God, you feel so good around my dick.”
“I’m so—fuck,” she stammered, reaching for his hand that was gripped her neck. “Harder,” she begged, pushing his hand tighter against her airways. “Choke me, please.”
Thrusting his throbbing dick deeper inside her, his fingers dug into the skin around her neck as he did just as she asked.
Anything she wanted, he was willing to give.
Frank completely lost control with her. But, this—being rough with her—was a new kind of high he didn’t know was attainable.
His free hand came around her front, connecting with her aroused clit, fingers working in circles.
He nearly came at the sight of her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“Oh, fuck, Frank,” she moaned loudly, “I’m cumming,” she cried out, her voice hoarse from the hand still tightly gripping her neck. “Yes, please. Just like that, Frank. Please, don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
Her entire body vibrated against his, neither of them able to mutter a single sound other than moans of pure pleasure. He felt her walls clench around him as he maintained a steady pace, but he didn’t want it to be over just yet.
Pulling out, Mallory’s breath hitched in her throat. “Wha—”
Falling to sit on the bed, his back against the too-noisy headboard, he crooked a finger, gesturing her towards him.
She smirked softly, drunk off something much more dangerous than liquor as she crawled over to him in such a primal, seductive way that the hairs on his arm stood up.
Climbing on top of him, she gripped his dick, aligning him with her entrance before slowly lowering himself down on him.
“Like this?” Mallory asked, biting down on her bottom lip to stifle a moan as she rocked her hips back and forth on top of him.
Frank grunted in approval, gripping her ass with both hands as she ground herself against him, taking his full length. “Just like that, babygirl.”
She bit her lip harder, arching her back and placing her hands back on his thigh as she moved faster against him.
He wrapped his arm around her, using his free hand to stabilize himself. “Don’t do that,” he muttered, working with her. “Let me hear you, baby. I want to hear you moan my name while I fuck you.”
She lifted herself slightly, allowing him to thrust up into her with rhythmic pounds.
Even if she wanted to be quiet, it would be impossible to do so when he was giving it to her like he was.
“Fuck, Frank,” she cried out, eyes screwed shut as a whimper left her. She fell forward, hands pressed on his chest as she continued rocking against him.
Frank’s hand collided with her ass, causing her to cry out in pleasure.
“You like that, baby?” he moaned. “You like when I slap your ass?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Yes. Oh, I’m gonna—I’m cumming again.”
Frank was close, too. As her body twitched against him, he wrapped his arms around her as her chest fell flush with his, pounding his hips up into her as she went slack against him.
“I can’t—I can’t take any—”
“You got it, baby,” Frank coaxed her. “Come here,” he said, cupping her cheeks and forcing her lips on his.
Her lips moved against his as he went to flip them over once more.
On top of her, Frank continued thrusting deeper and quicker inside her. “One more time, baby,” he muttered into her lips. “I want you to come for me one more time. I want to look at you while you come all over my dick one more time.”
Sitting back, he moved his hand underneath her right thigh, hoisting her leg over his shoulder so he could drive himself deeper inside her.
Her head dug into the strewn-about pillows beneath her. “Holy fucking shit, Frank,” she cursed breathlessly, squirming against him. “Oh, fuck.”
“You like that, baby?” he cooed, nostrils flaring as he thrusts harder. “You like when I fuck you deep like this?”
“Yes,” she cried out. “Fuck, yes, Frank. I love it.”
He felt like a ticking timebomb, capable of exploding within her at any given moment. He knew she was there, too, twitching and squirming against him. When her leg fell from his shoulder, he took it as an opportunity to grab her hips, lifting them up and forcefully pounding her small frame against his.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, fingers digging into her delicate skin. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
She moaned loud, knees begging to close as her entire body shook against him. “Frank,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls and sending his body shuddering.
His release came fast and hard, nearly paralyzing him as he never once stopped his rhythmic motions inside her. He didn’t bother pulling out. Mallory was on birth control and he liked it better knowing he filled her up.
“Did you—Did you cum?” Mallory asked quietly as his thrusts became slow and sloppy.
Achingly slow, he pulled out of her, causing his cum to pool out of her. He smirked at the sight.
“Yeah, baby,” he breathed, falling down on the bed next to her. “I came.”
Her chest rose and fell as she turned on her side, facing him. “That was so good,” she commented, laughing to herself.
Frank smiled, fingers grazing her soft skin for a moment before he sat up in bed.
“Come on,” he said to her, patting her shaking thigh gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Ooh,” Mallory sounded, smirking up at him as he climbed off the bed. “Shower sex, too? God, I’m the luckiest girl alive.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “Don’t tempt me, baby.”
A/N hiii guys! this is a little rushed, im still getting used to writing on here but i’m loving it so far its so tea 😭 i’m stuck between making this a little series or just leaving it here, please helppp! & i’m also about to start clearing out my drafts so be on the lookout for these one shots. requests are open! interact, all feedback—good, bad, critical—is more than welcome! <3
you could say it was love at first sight
cameron had just finished his morning work out and was on his way to meet a few friends for lunch. too busy thumbing through his playlist to notice an already pissed off zaia rounding the corner. her being almost a foot shorter than him didn’t make it any better.
she clutched tightly to the strap of the telfar that hung from her shoulder and mumbled every curse word imaginable under her breath.
her eyes burned into the bright red B minus written in the corner of her fifteen page thesis that she worked endlessly on, the heated discussion with her contemperary literature professor replaying on a loop in her head. she’d insisted that zaia wasn’t passionate about her work
it felt like no matter how hard she tried in the class nothing was ever enough, and being told she wasn’t passionate about the one thing she’s always been good at got under her skin.
and then somehow her day gets even worse.
it’s as if she runs into a brick wall.
solid and unmoving, sends her stumbling backward, the packet slips from her grasp on impact and skids across the ground.
before she hits the pavement cameron, instinctively, reaches out and latches his large hands around her arms to steady her
upon recovery, she sees that the ‘brick wall’ has a face. a name. cameron cade. the golden boy quarterback whom she had never actually met before, but still strongly dislikes.
his arrogance and lack of situational awareness bothered her. he glided around campus like he owned it. like they should be grateful that he’s there. though she figured he had earned the right to be cocky since he’s one of the top prospects in the country, that didn’t stop her from being annoyed by him.
his grip lingers a little too long for her liking
she shrugs her arms free and steps back, putting much needed space between them.
he’s even taller up close. all broad shoulders and confidence that can clear a room, but she wouldn’t let him see that.
“my fault” he says coolly, gaze flicking to the papers that lay sprawled out on the ground and then back to her face.
“yeah, your fault. watch where you’re going.” she snapped, even though part of her knew she was barreling forward, anger clouding her vision.
her almond shaped eyes dragged over him like his entire existence is a personal attack on her. a smirk plays at his lips, half amused, half caught off guard by her fire.
most people would apologize or stumble over themselves in his presence. she doesn’t.
“didn’t see you,” he says “and you came straight at me” eyes creeping down her frame, slow and deliberate. as if he’s memorizing her
“and you’re taller than you need to be” she shoots back smartly, bending to snatch the packet from the ground, flailing it around to rid it of the dirt that decorated its pages now.
that earns a smile from him
“do you always run into people and blame them for it?” he tilts his head at her “well i’m not to blame, you weren’t paying attention.” she argues and he can’t help but chuckle
“you weren’t either” he retorts in a mock tone.
she scowls
“move.” her voice is sharper now, he’d clearly stricken a nerve. she motions impatiently toward the path he’s blocking behind him. he does, but barely, just enough that she can pass
his attention clung to her like a magnet.
pink hair pressed to her shoulders, half pulled back into a leopard print claw clip, framed her face perfectly against her deep brown skin. his gaze staggers on her full, pouty lips, thick with glittery gloss, and then to the outfit she wore. simple, but her
the glint in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, and somehow she looks even more angry at the realization that he’s checking her out
she rolled her eyes and shouldered past him with unnecessary force. pulse quickening, trying to ignore how his eyes trace every move she makes.
“cameron,” he tosses after her, urging a response but she doesn’t stop.
“didn’t ask.”
he stood there for a moment. watching intently as she disappeared through the double doors
from that point on he decided that he needed her.
and if you know anything about cameron, you know he never stops until he gets what he wants.
their second run in is weeks later, unplanned, random. she’d managed to avoid him for a while before this, at least that’s what he wanted her to think, because what she didn’t know was how frequently they’d actually been in the same place at the same time.
he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
it’s a friday afternoon. the courtyard is alive with noises from all directions. music pouring out of car speakers, students littered in the grass, loud laughter traveling through the air. zaia’s sitting with her cousin, payton, doing nothing in particular. she’d just passed her history exam with flying colors, so it’s a perfect day for her, almost too perfect.
and then,
he emerges from the dining hall with a couple of his teammates in tow, all trying to decide what their next move is. they continue further down the walkway and as the rest of them bicker,
he sees her. again. except this time she isn’t speed walking somewhere with a frown on her face
she’s at a picnic table with a girl that resembles her in a way, legs crossed, easy laughter, brown skin catching the sunlight perfectly. as if it was hand crafted just for her.
she dressed comfortable, sure of herself. he likes that.
the wheels turn in his head as he figures out how he can approach her without her ripping his head off.
“i’ll get up with y’all later” he voices to the group, never taking his eyes off of her. the men all exchange a handshake and say their goodbyes before taking off in the opposite direction.
he slows his pace as he inches closer to the two. hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweats, hood over his buzzed head and a smirk on his face. confidence on autopilot of course
“well damn,” he starts “i was starting to think you imaginary.” voice smooth, amusement laced in it.
payton looks up first, eyes widening a bit as she looks back and forth between them. when the hell did she meet him? she wonders
zaia didn’t need to look up to know who it was, but curiosity made her glance anyway. and there he is.
cameron cade.
standing there casually wearing that stupid smile, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
her stomach tightens, and she hates that it does. “do you need something?” she says flatly
payton’s interest is piqued. her cousin had clearly left her out of the loop.
cameron smiles even wider “that’s cold,” he says amused “after i saved you from eating concrete and all” he teases
he’s got her full attention now. eyes narrowed at him like daggers
“i see you’re still in the way” he places a hand over his heart, “there it is, the fire. i missed that”
she sighs, completely over it at this point. heads were turning in their direction, which, of fucking course. it’s cameron cade. all the more reason for him to get away from her
“what do you want?” she snaps, he takes a seat without asking. a little too close. knees angled toward her like he belongs there which aggravates her even more. “tryna see if you always look this unapproachable or if i’m just special” she rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to her phone “whatever helps you sleep at night, cameron.” he smirks.
the way she says his name with such conviction. venom. there’s no way she hasn’t been thinking about him. maybe not in the same way he has her, yet, but that was enough for him.
payton clears her throat
“yall want me to give yall a minute or-?” her eyes travel between them, curious and amused at the tension, “nope.” “yes” they answer in unison, zaia twists her face into a scowl
payton stifles a laugh “i’m gonna go get something to drink, text me if you need me!” she calls over her shoulder
“be on the look out for that text, then.” she says back, he laughs breathily
he watches as she leaves and turns back to zaia. eyes fixated on her.
she pretends not to feel it, but it’s almost impossible with how pressing his presence is.
“weeks go by and you’re still mad? that’s impressive” he breaks the heavy silence “you never stop talking do you?” she shoots back just as quick. he leans up onto the table, long legs outstretched, arms crossed over his chest “nah,” he says easily, “especially if it gets a reaction”
“it doesn’t. you’re just…irritating.”
he tilts his head, studying her as if to make up for all of the time he’s spent forcing himself to admire her from afar. she’s so beautiful. he can’t seem to find a single flaw—except the obvious disdain she has for him—but he didn’t mind. she’d be all his eventually, and that wouldn’t matter.
the way her plump lips fall into a permanent frown, and how her pretty brown eyes pierce through him like he’s nobody. even the sharp sweet sound of her voice has created its own echo chamber in his mind.
and yet he still hadn’t even gotten so much as a name.
“i know, makes it harder for you to forget about me” he winks at her
she clenches her jaw.
she wasn’t supposed to care. and yet, he’s sitting there like he’d set a trap, teasing, his smirk just enough to make her heart hammer in her chest.
she slides down the bench some to get rid of the tension that hangs in the air between them “you’re cute when you’re annoyed” that gets her. she looks at him. really looks. a sharp warning glare aimed at him that cut like a knife
“you’re still here, why?” she asks sharply and he shrugs, holding her eyes as long as she has them on him “your name.” she scoffs at the fact that he thinks it’s something he’s owed
as if he didn’t pretty much bulldoze her just weeks ago
“keep dreaming, i’m leaving.” she gathers the loose paper and folders she has laid out in front of her and quickly places them into her tote, standing from her seat. he laughs. low and steady, voice like velvet.
he can’t hide the amusement on his face. she’s a force, and he knows it. he’s not letting her slip away that easily. not again
he stands as well, closing the gap between them a bit
now people are really staring
her heart drums so loud she can hear it in her ears. an unfamiliar buzz beneath her skin, she doesn’t know what it means but she does know that it’s not good in the slightest.
“courtyards my spot,” he smirks down at her “guess i’ll be seeing you soon ms. no name”
he moves aside and watches her as she passes. making a mental note of the day and time. he’s determined
she doesn’t respond, doesn’t look back, just walks off. heart racing, knowing—annoyingly—that this time, he’s not going to let her disappear again.
