mio squalo
Pairing: Brendon Park x surgeon!reader
Rating: E (I made myself blush, ngl)
Summary: at a medical conference you meet an orthopedic surgeon from a hospital you have your eyes on
Word Count: 3800
Warnings: pussy pronouns because this is an MJ fic; rough sex; reader is called “good girl”; reader is a little subby to Brendon’s dominant streak; light spanking; slight biting
A/N: title means “my shark” in Italian. Graphics by @strangergraphics. Thanks for the beta @shakedownstreet73
Normally conferences like these were one of your favorite things. You loved getting to know fellow surgeons, loved getting to network, and loved the open bars. But this was one of your final conferences before you finished your fellowship in NICU surgery, and so you were on the hunt for an attending position at a good hospital. Which meant you had to be on the top of your game, as surgery was incredibly competitive. So here you were in New York City, hoping to find a position on the east coast.
You had just picked up your hotel key, and you were struggling with your suitcase, backpack, water bottle, key, and phone as you tried to move to where the elevators were.
“Need help?” a deep voice asks you. You look up and your breath hitches. The most muscular man stands in front of you. He has somewhat curly hair, a strong jawline with some stubble on it, blue eyes that remind you of the ocean, and is in slacks and a grey dress shirt. You guess he checked in earlier.
“Yes, thank you,” you say, moving to hand him your water bottle so you’d have a free hand. Instead he grabs your suitcase and backpack, lifting them both with ease.
“I’m Brendon.” You smile and tell him your name. You stick your phone in your pocket, the room key in another, and slide your bottle in the pocket of your backpack. Settled, you move to take your suitcase from Brendon.
“Thanks for helping me get my stuff settled.”
“Couldn’t let you struggle. Will you be at the mixer tonight?”
“I will. Will I see you there?” He nods. “Good. I’ll keep my eye out for you then, Brendon.” You give him one last smile before you head to the elevators.
Once in your room, you decide to break out your favorite outfit for mixers, a one-shoulder jumpsuit in emerald green. There was a belt tie with golden thread that helped cinch the jumpsuit on your waist. You loved how the jumpsuit showed off your back muscles. For more formal events you throw a blazer or shrug on, but for a mixer it was fine without. Slipping on a pair of golden heels and your favorite necklace with a pearl and olive leaf pendant from Tiffany and Company, you transfer your room key and phone to your clutch. You refresh your makeup, deciding to keep it simple with a neutral lip color and some mascara, spritz on your favorite perfume, and head out. The hotel bar where the mixer is being held is already filling up. You head to the bar and order one of the special drinks they are advertising for the event, a raspberry rum and lemonade cocktail. Waiting for your drink, you feel him slide up next to you before you look over. Brendon throws a smile at you as he orders a neat whiskey. He’s still in black slacks, but he’s put on a black dress shirt, the top two buttons undone. He has an Omega watch on his wrist, silver with a teal face, and a gold chain on his neck. You think there’s a pendant on it, but it dips below his shirt so you can’t see for sure. His cologne smells like the ocean mixed with some spices like rosemary, and you guess that he paid good money for it.
“Was thinking I was going to have to go looking for you,” you quip, taking a sip of your drink.
“Glad you didn’t,” he says as the two of you make your way to one of the small high top tables spread out nearby. He carries your drink for you, and makes sure that you have an easy path to the table, like he was raised with old-school manners. A gentleman. Something you’re not fully used to, but it still makes you smile.
“So what kind of surgery is your focus?” you ask him. You have an idea, looking at all his muscles, but he may surprise you.
“Why don’t you guess?” Brendon smirks over his glass.
“You scream ortho. Probably focusing on sports injuries, but I bet you also have a soft spot for the old ladies. Am I close?”
“Spot on. The old ladies love me, too.”
“Your turn.” Brandon looks at you for a moment before speaking.
“You have a very calming presence, one that a lot of surgeons lack. Pedes or geriatrics. Your patients probably feel safer with you than the other surgeons.”
“Close. My residency was in orthopedics, but my fellowship is in NICU orthopedics. I’m actually at the tail end of my fellowship. On the prowl for an attending position, preferably in a trauma center.”
“NICU ortho is tough. They’re so small. If you were able to land the fellowship and complete it, any hospital would be lucky to have you. Where are you looking?”
“It is tough. My fellowship was at the Medical University of South Carolina, but I miss the winters. So I’ve been looking in the north east. I’ve applied to Yale New Haven, the children’s trauma center in Hartford, Pittsburgh Trauma and Presby in Pennsylvania, a bunch in Massachusetts, and a bunch in New York and Jersey.”
“MUSC. Level one. So is my hospital.”
“What hospital is that?”
“You actually applied there. I work at —”
“No! Let me guess.” You interrupt Brendon, enjoying trying to figure him out.
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“You look Italian. Sound like you’re from Jersey or Long Island. But I didn’t name any specifically from those states. You don’t scream Eli to me, so no Yale. Possibly the children’s hospital in Hartford but you didn’t mention Pedes. And even teens fall under pediatrics. So that leaves PTMC and Presby. I’ve already talked with the ortho attendings at Presby, and you don’t scream resident or fellow. You’re too sure of your craft, and you carry yourself confidently. So PTMC?” Brendon can’t help the shocked look that comes to his face.
“You’re good. And correct. I was raised on Long Island. Big Italian family. Don’t like how pretentious the Ivies are. And I’m an attending at PTMC. When do we officially interview you?”
“Officially? Next week. Is this an unofficial interview?”
“No, I’m not on the interview panel. We’ll meet officially when they bring you in for a tour, but other than that I have no say. But if I was on the interview panel I definitely would want to push to hire you. I’m impressed already and I barely know you.” You preen at his compliments. You can tell he doesn’t give compliments often.
The two of you talk more about your upbringing. He went into orthopedics when his dad broke a leg and healed up perfectly thanks to the surgeon. Brendon had been eight. He has four siblings, being smack in the middle of them. Huge Italian family, and one of his favorite ways to unwind is to cook pasta from scratch. He asks if you want another drink, and goes to get it when you say yes. You sneak a glance at how amazing his pants fit him. You can tell he doesn’t skip out on squats when he goes to the gym.
You told him about your childhood, why you wanted to sub specialize in NICU orthopedics, and how you loved making your own chicken soup from scratch.
“If you decide to accept an offer at PTMC, you’ll have to show me sometime how you made the soup.” Your face heats up a little over his flirting.
“You seem sure I’ll get an offer.”
“They’d be dumb not to. We have pediatric orthopedics and we have NICU surgeons, but we don’t have someone talented enough to do both.”
“In that case, you can make the pasta for the soup from scratch.”
“Are you presenting at all this weekend?”
“I am not. Here to network and learn. Are you?”
“I am. Tomorrow afternoon at two. Last July we successfully reattached a woman’s leg after a traumatic amputation due to a waterslide collapse. So I’ll be presenting on what made it a favorable reattachment and how we proceeded with it.”
“Holy shit, that sounds insane. I’ll have to go to your session.”
“It was on the Fourth of July as well. We had multiple blown off fingers, one on a twelve year old kid, as well as having to amputate a woman’s leg after she ended up with necrotizing fasciitis. The attending in the ED and one of his fourth years originally thought it was just a rash. Thankfully they made sure to mark the rash and told her to come back if it spread.”
“I can’t imagine thinking I had a rash and end up losing my leg.”
“Yeah. The most insane part is her boss fired her for coming back on her lunch break due to the rash spreading. Dr. Robinavitch, the head of the ED, ended up testifying when she sued him. Rumor has it he even helped her sue and found her a pro bono lawyer. She couldn’t waitress anymore, not until she got fitted and used to using a prosthetic, but thanks to winning her case it didn’t impact her ability to pay her bills.”
“Never a dull moment in a trauma center.”
“What are some of your most impactful stories?”
“Charleston is below sea level, so if it rains a lot during high tide, the city floods. During one of these times the flood waters pushed a manhole cover up and away. A high schooler was walking to school and went down.”
“Through the manhole?” Brendon’s brows climb up.
“One of her legs went down. The other got caught on the street. She’s lucky she didn’t go fully under. But she broke a bunch of bones on the leg that hit the street.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. And then since Charleston has four colleges on the peninsula there were always tons of injuries from frat boys.”
“As a reformed frat boy, they are dumb.” You laugh at Brendon’s admission.
“What frat?” Brendon tells you which one he was in, and also that he was on his college’s track and field team.
“I would’ve guessed football.”
“They tried to poach me, but shot put was where my heart was.”
The two of you spend the rest of the night talking about your jobs, schooling, and what you do for fun. Brendon obviously hits the gym often, and you tell him what you love to do.
“Looks like the night is winding down,” Brendon says as the crowd starts to thin. “Can I walk you back to your room?”
“I’d like that.” You smile at him, and he leads you out of the bar, his hand on the small of your back.
“What floor are you on?” You ask him.
“Top floor. You?”
“Oh I bet you have an amazing view. I’m on floor 12.”
“I can see Lady Liberty from the bedroom.”
“Oh, you have a separate bedroom? Mr. Fancy pants.”
“You want to see the view?” You look at Brandon as the two of you enter the elevator.
“Yeah, let’s see your view,” you say when you get into the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor, and the two of you chatted about the conference on the way up.
Once at his room you make a beeline for the bedroom. Your room doesn’t have a separate sleeping area, so either PTMC dropped a lot more money than your hospital, or Brendon paid for the upgrade himself. Based on what you could tell about him, you were betting on the latter. Brendon joins you near the window and the two of you look out at the NYC skyline. You can see the Statue of Liberty, lit up against the night sky.
“What a view.”
“Yeah, I always try to upgrade my room at a conference. So PTMC let me book the presidential suite and they will reimburse me for whatever a standard room would have cost.”
“Good deal. Nice room and a beautiful view. Perfect way to relax after a day of conference stuff,” you say as you take it in. He has a sitting area, a dining area, and the bedroom. A full bath and a half bath.
“A very beautiful view,” Brendon says. You turn to look at him, and he’s not looking out of the window like you expected. He’s looking at you.
“Smooth,” you joke. Brendon walks towards you, an easy grace to his movements.
“Glad you didn’t think it was cringe. Can I kiss you?” You nod, and before you even finish nodding his lips are crashing on yours. Brendon kissed you like he was devouring you, nibbling your lips and licking where he bit. You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. He backs you up to the bed, and you sit once you feel the mattress at the back of your legs.
“This okay?” He asks. You nod in response. “I need words when I ask you something.”
“Yes, Brendon. Kiss me more?” Brendon smirks and shifts so you’re laying down and he’s on top of you. He brings his lips to yours, arm next to your head to bear his weight. You can feel yourself getting wetter, and based on what you’re feeling you know Brendon is also getting excited. Brendon kisses along your neck, softly.
“Don’t want to give you marks.”
“At least not where anyone can see,” you quip. Brendon’s eyes go from a calm ocean to a stormy sea, filled with lust. He reaches behind you to unzip the back of your jumpsuit, allowing him to pull the top down towards your waist. Brendon lets out a strangled moan when he realizes you don’t have a bra on. You notice his face and giggle.
“It has a built-in bra.” Brendon kisses down your neck, and takes a nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicks back and forth before he grazes your nipple with his teeth. He then does the same to the other one.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moan, snaking a hand though his hair. He stops for a moment to take his shirt and undershirt off. You marvel at his toned body, the muscles of his abs, his toned pecs, and his biceps. He looks like he could do bench presses with your entire body. Muscles earned from hard work in the gym, muscles needed for his job. Chest hair sprinkling his chest. And you finally see the charm at the end of his necklace. It looks like a chili pepper. Brendon crawls back to the bed. He kisses you once more, before bringing his mouth back down to your nipples.
“Perfect fucking tits. I bet you have a perfect pussy as well,” he says before nipping at your tit.
“Why don’t you help me out of this and find out for yourself?” Brendon’s gaze turns predatory as he fully takes off your jumper, leaving you in your lacy thong. Brendon grabs the thong with his teeth and slowly pulls it down and off you.
“You know how to use that mouth, don’t you,” you say at the sight of him tossing your thong to the side. Brendon slowly kisses the insides of your thighs, and settles between them. His broad shoulders open you up more than you’re used to.
“Bet you can’t wait to find out. You going to be a good girl and take what I give you?” You nod, unable to form words. You suspected Brendon was dominating in the bedroom, and him calling you good girl got to you. He nipped at your inner thigh.
“Need words,” he all but growled.
“Fuck. Yes, I’ll be a good girl for you. Please, I need to feel you.”
“My hands are on you. You can feel those,” he teased, kissing the spot where your leg met your groin.
“I need to feel you doing something to my pussy. Feel how wet you make me.”
“She’s glistening. So excited for me. I was right, such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs as he licks a stripe up your folds. You keen at the contact, back arching. He places one of his large hands on your belly to keep you on the bed, looking up and smirking as he does it. His hands, his arms, all of him is so big you can only imagine what his cock will look like. Brendon dives face first into your cunt, eating you like he’s a man starved. You felt your orgasm washing over you like a wave, and you rode the wave out. Brendon didn’t stop, instead opting to push a finger in you.
“Fuck, shit, so sensitive,” you cry out.
“Think I can pull at least one more from you before I let you have this cock, baby,” Brendon said, as he lazily pumped his finger in and out of you, before bringing his mouth down to your clit again. You feel him add a second finger, and with surgical precision he finds the spongy spot inside of you. He makes a “come here” movement at the same time he flicks his tongue on your clit and your second orgasm hits you like a hurricane. You try to squeeze your legs shut involuntarily but Brendon’s broad shoulders prevent that. He doesn’t stop finger fucking or licking you until your orgasm is over. Panting, he pushes himself up and brings his lips to yours. The taste of your arousal on his lips makes you lightheaded.
“Please, I need you in me.” Brendon nods at your words and stands up. He slowly unbuckles his belt, sliding it all the way off, as if he’s enjoying teasing you. He then unbuttons his slacks, letting them drop to the floor as he steps out of them. His light grey briefs do nothing to hide how hard he is, all for you. The fabric is darker in a spot, already wet with precum. He slowly pulled them off and his cock sprung free. He was long and thick, like the rest of him. And if his skills with his tongue and hands were any indication, you had a feeling he knew exactly how to use it. You moved to lick him, dying to taste him, but he stopped you.
“Another time, I really need to be inside you,” Brendon said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a condom, rolling it on his cock.
“On all fours. And let me know if it gets to be too much.”
“I doubt it will be. I like it rough,” you say as you move to get in position.
“Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how hot that is.” Brendon got behind you and moved his cock up and down your pussy lips, collecting your wetness. You wiggled your ass, and he brought a hand down on it. You moaned at the feeling as the heat of his spank spread.
“You like that, did you?” he asked as he slapped your other ass cheek. You moaned and nodded. Brendon finally lined himself up and sank into your cunt. The stretch of him was delightful and made you see stars.
“Fuck, Bren, feels so good,” the nickname slipping from your mouth.
“Pussy feels like it was made for me. Taking me so well,” he says as he begins to thrust. You arch your back, allowing him to get deeper. Brendon knows what he’s doing, hitting your g spot with almost every thrust, peppering in spanks to your ass with some thrusts. He bends over, putting his arm around your front.
“You feel so fucking good. Being such a good girl for me,” he whispers in your ear. He releases you and pulls out. “On your back, I want to see your face as you come again,” he says. You’re quick to do as he says, eager to have him back inside you. He lines his cock up to you again.
“You love being told what to do, don’t you?” You nod, and he gives your tits a slap. “Words,” he growls.
“Fuck, yes,” you moan. “Love how dominant you are. Taking what you want.”
“Good girl,” Brendon says as he sinks in you again. He brings one of your legs up to his shoulder, and you wrap the other around his waist. He leans down and kisses, sucks, and nips on your tits, and you know you’re going to have bruises and the thought makes you happy. He brings a hand down in between the two of you, expertly finding your clit with his thumb.
“You’re going to give me another one, aren’t you? Let me feel you come around my cock.” You’re in that headspace where you can’t form coherent thoughts so all you can do is moan as your third orgasm of the night crashes over you.
“So fucked out, so beautiful like this,” Brendon says as you fall apart. He kisses you as he comes, groaning into your mouth. The two of you stay that way for a moment, Brendon softening inside you, before he pulls out.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, kissing your forehead. You lay on the bed, in a fucked out bliss, while Brendon deals with the condom.
“Stay the night?” he asks you as he returns to the bed. You nod, and he smiles. He grabs a pair of sleep shorts for himself, and a shirt for you. He helps you put the shirt on since you’re still feeling like jelly from your three orgasms. The two of you cuddle in the bed, you laying in the crook of his arm, hand playing with his chest hair. You brush a finger over his necklace.
“Chili pepper?”
“Cornicello. It’s an Italian symbol to ward off the evil eye. My nonna gave it to me when I was a teen. I rarely take it off.” You nod and play with it a little more.
“I love that.” The two of you lay in bed for a while, making plans for the rest of the conference.
“Now I really hope I get a position in Pittsburgh.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Cause I really don’t want this to be the only time we fuck.” Brendon laughs at that. “Plus, I really want to get to know you some more.” He pulls you in closer and tells you he feels the same.
Four weeks later Brendon is in his office, charting, when his phone lights up with a text from you.
You: I got the job!
Him: here?
You: yup! Know anyone who can give me a tour of Pittsburgh ;)
Brendon laughs, and gives you a call, already planning all the places he’s going to take you.
