#request shawn

[abbotjack]

can u pls write a fic where the reader absolutely adores going down on abbot because she gets to have him at his most vulnerable and feral, all because of her own undoing

you know what… yeah. there's something about the way jack falls apart when your mouth is on him—quiet at first, trying to hold it together, and then suddenly he's gone. voice rough, hips twitching, all restraint out the window. and the best part? it's not because he's asking for it. it's because you wanted to. because he let you in, and now he can't hide from it. anyway. here you go!

content/warning : explicit oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, military past mentions, emotional vulnerability, established relationship intimacy, Jack is feral and in love. 18+ MDNI!!!!!

words : 1,755

Jack’s hard to catch off guard.

He’s trained for chaos. Built for pressure. Keeps himself wired tight because it’s the only way he’s ever known how to survive—by staying ten seconds ahead of the worst-case scenario, especially if that scenario has anything to do with losing you.

But sometimes, without even trying, you manage to catch him unprepared.

And tonight, he doesn’t see it coming.

It’s past ten. The rain’s steady against the windows, casting shadows that shift across the floor. You’re curled up on the living room couch, half-buried under a fleece blanket, flipping through a worn medical journal you’ve read twice already. You’re not even pretending to be interested—just waiting. Watching.

Jack’s in the kitchen, sleeves shoved to his elbows, scrubbing a pan like it’s got something personal against him. His movements are steady, practiced. Rooted in a rhythm he’s long since made his own.

He hums under his breath, soft and shapeless. Not a song, not really—just a low, quiet pattern that lives somewhere deep in his chest. The kind he slips into when he’s too tired to realize he’s doing it.

He’s already showered. Hair still damp, curling at the ends. A black t-shirt clings to his shoulders, worn soft with time. Grey sweats sit low on his hips, the waistband knotted like an afterthought. One sock. The prosthetic stays on—seamless, familiar, just another part of how he moves through the quiet of the evening.

And something in you pulls tight.

Because no one else sees him like this.

Not the hospital, where he’s all orders and intensity. Not his old unit. Not even his family, who still talk around things like they’re too fragile to touch.

But you do. You get this version of him—the quiet one. The one who moves like the day hasn’t touched him yet. The one who doesn’t have to perform toughness or control.

And you watch him, not for the first time, and think—without warning, without fanfare—God, I love you.

Not in the loud way. Not in the kind you say out loud just to hear it back. Just in the way that settles in your chest and stays there. Heavy. Certain.

He rinses the pan. Dries his hands. Looks up just as you shift your weight on the couch.

And that’s when it catches up to you—quiet, all at once. How much you want him.

Not just the sex. Not just the weight of him on your tongue or the sound he makes when he loses control.

But this. The unraveling.

The chance to take him apart, slowly, just because he lets you. Because he trusts you to.

“Jack?”

He turns, still toweling off a spot on his wrist. “Yeah?”

You slip off the blanket. Pad across the hardwood barefoot.

He watches your approach with that look—careful, measured. The one he wears when he's trying to read you before you speak.

When you reach him, you slide your hands under his shirt, palms smoothing over warm skin. He’s still damp near the collarbone. Still smells like unscented soap and the body wash he only buys because you like it.

You press your mouth to the corner of his lips, soft and slow.

He leans into it before he can stop himself.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice low.

You shrug. “Just felt like it.”

He doesn’t speak, just studies you—like he’s trying to figure out what changed, what storm might be coming.

You tilt your chin up, fingers still tracing lazy circles on his ribs.

“I want you.”

His brow ticks up. “You have me.”

You shake your head. “Not like that.”

And then, quieter: “Let me take care of you.”

He stiffens—just barely. You feel it before you see it. That split second where instinct kicks in, where he almost says no, almost laughs it off, almost makes it about you instead. Because that’s who he is.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he nods.

And you drop to your knees.

The tile is cool against your shins. Jack shifts his weight—one foot grounding, the other adjusting with practiced ease. You place your hands on his thighs and look up at him, steady under your touch.

He’s already breathing harder.

“Let me have you like this,” you whisper.

He exhales—tight, measured. “Fuck. You sure?”

You smile, pressing a kiss to the base of his stomach. “I’m already on the floor, Jack.”

That gets a low huff of laughter. But his hand settles on the back of your head anyway, fingers threading through your hair.

He watches as you undo the knot in his waistband, tug his sweats down just enough, and take him in your hand.

Already half-hard. Heavy. Familiar.

You lean in and press your lips to the head of him—soft, reverent.

And then you open your mouth.

The groan that breaks from him isn’t polished. It’s not restrained.

It’s raw.

Like it catches him off guard. Like he thought he could stand there and stay composed while you took him apart piece by piece.

But the second you suck him down, his composure splinters.

His thighs twitch. His hips jerk just slightly, then freeze like he’s trying not to move, not to hurt you, not to fuck your mouth the way he clearly wants to.

Your hands move instinctively—one braced on his stomach, steadying him, the other wrapping around the base of his cock as you work him deeper.

Jack’s head falls forward, mouth parted.

“Christ,” he breathes, voice shaking. “You—baby, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you murmur against him. “I love this.”

You swirl your tongue and take him deep again, and his knees almost buckle.

He adjusts—shifts his weight again, subtly, stepping back, his hand now braced on the counter for balance. You glance up. The way he looks at you—lips parted, eyes heavy, jaw clenched like he’s trying not to beg—you could cry from it.

And then, when you moan around him, low and slow, he loses it.

His hand fists tighter in your hair.

His abs twitch beneath your palm.

“You’re gonna fucking ruin me,” he groans.

You hum, dragging your mouth off him long enough to grin. “That’s the idea.”

You take him back in—deeper—until he hits the back of your throat, and when your nose brushes his stomach, he gasps. Like he can’t believe how good it feels. Like it hurts. Like he doesn’t know how to survive this kind of love.

His balance wavers again, and you feel it when he compensates—hip shifting forward, muscles flexing, the barest tremble in his thigh as he tries to keep still.

“Sweetheart—” he chokes out, “—I’m gonna—fuck—I’m close—”

You just keep going.

Let him have it. Let him feel it.

Every pulse. Every vibration of your mouth. Every second of you choosing to take him like he’s something sacred. Something you need like air.

And when he comes—it’s not quiet.

He groans, guttural and broken, hips stuttering forward, hand tightening in your hair, and your name spills from his lips like a confession.

You swallow. Gently. Like it’s a gift.

And then, slowly, you rise.

He’s still leaning hard on the counter, chest heaving. You just step into him. Rest your hands on his hips.

He pulls you in, eyes blown wide.

You kiss the corner of his mouth—soft, grounding.

“You okay?”

He exhales, a low breath that’s more laugh than anything else, but it breaks halfway out of his chest. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

“You said that already.”

“Still true,” he mutters, tugging you in by the waist until you’re flush against him.

You lean in, forehead bumping his, nose brushing his cheek. His skin’s still warm from the shower. You press your lips to his jaw—gentle, reassuring—and whisper, “Come sit with me?”

He nods, but doesn’t move right away. Just stands there, arms wrapped around you like he’s trying to get his breath back.

Then, finally: “Yeah. Okay.”

You slide your hand down his back and tug lightly at the hem of his shirt as you pull away. He follows without hesitation.

When you reach the couch, you’re the first to sit—curling into the cushion with your knees tucked up, leaving space for him without saying a word. Jack lowers himself beside you, slow and steady, one hand bracing the armrest as he shifts his weight and sinks into the cushion.

He leans toward you, hand sliding to your hip. “C’mere,” he murmurs.

You go easily, letting him guide you as you swing a leg over his and settle into his lap. Your knees bracket his thighs. Your arms loop around his neck, and his hands find their place—one at the curve of your spine, the other curling into the fabric of your sweats at your thigh like he needs you close enough to breathe.

He doesn’t speak for a moment. Just breathes. Forehead pressed to yours.

“You always do that to me,” he says eventually, voice low and rough.

“Do what?”

“Take the fucking ground out from under me.”

You laugh softly. “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are still heavy, a little dazed, but there’s no edge in his voice. Just something raw. Open. “It’s not just the sex. It’s the fact that I—” He shakes his head, exhales sharply. “I never used to let anyone see me like that. I didn’t know I could.”

You rest your hands on either side of his face. “You don’t have to let go for me, Jack. You just do.”

His jaw tenses for a second, then softens as your thumbs brush his cheekbones.

“I love you,” he says.

You blink. Not because you didn’t know—but because it sounds different this time. Like it came from somewhere deeper.

“I know,” you say. Then you smile. “But say it again.”

His eyes flick between yours. “I love you.”

You kiss him. Slow, unhurried, like there’s nowhere else to be. And when you pull back, he leans in and kisses your cheek. Then your temple. Then just stays there, arms around you, face pressed into the curve of your neck.

You stay like that for a long time.

Quiet. Still.

Wrapped around each other in the soft hum of your home. His heartbeat under your hand. His presence so familiar it aches in the best way.

[wesandresons]

[pomelace]

more than a sip

pairing: jack abbot x afab!resident reader

content warnings: fluff, no physical desciptors used for reader, reader is a resident and has a brother, implied age gap, doesn't take place during the shows timeline, let me know if I missed anything!

magui speaks! : dedicated to @multifandom-2091, thank you for the request, I hope you like it! I struggled a bit as I fell into a small writers slump halfway through, but here it is! writing this made me want to write more for jack, so stay tuned for that. as always, I hope you enjoy and requests are open!

word count: 1473

The rain drums steady on the pavement as you step out into the ambulance bay, the hospital doors hissing shut behind you. The air is thick with the smell of wet dirt and concrete, cool against your skin. You lean back against the wall just beside the doors, eyes half-closed, phone glowing in your hand.

Your fingers tap out a quick message:

Did you eat?? I left pasta in the fridge. Please don’t just eat cereal again. Love you. Be home by 8.

You don’t expect a reply—it’s three in the morning, and no one in their right mind should be awake. But your brother is. Either passed out on the couch with a controller still in his hand, or ignoring your text the same way he ignored you this morning—right after the fight, right before you left for another fifteen-hour shift.

It was a stupid argument—one he started, because he’s a teenager and teenagers are always angry about something. You know the type of anger; you used to wear it like armor too.

You put your parents through the same storm of slammed doors and sharp words. The difference is, they were still around to weather it. You’re all he’s got now.

So you take it—the harsh words, the door slams, the silence that lingers like smoke. You don’t hold it against him. You never do.

Instead, you text him like clockwork, always checking in even when he expects you not to. Especially when he expects you not to.

There’s peace in just standing there, tucked beneath the small overhang by the doors, the rain kept at bay by a strip of shelter overhead. Each drop falls with a soft, steady rhythm, a quiet lullaby against the metal.

As you wait for a response you know isn’t coming, you start to count the droplets you hear.

One, two, three...

“Should I be concerned you’ve taken up loitering?” a voice calls from behind you, low and rough around the edges.

You glance over your shoulder and catch sight of Dr. Abbot stepping out into the damp night, two coffee cups in hand. His dark scrubs are hidden beneath the black hoodie he always wears, hood down.

The lights from inside spill across his face, catching the salt-and-pepper in his hair, making him look tired than usual—almost distant, like he’s not entirely here.

“Loitering implies I’m not on shift,” you murmur, tucking your phone into your scrub pocket.

“I’m just… pretending the air inside doesn’t taste like bleach.”

He hums, taking a sip from his cup before handing you the other one. For you.

“Almond milk and honey,” he says gently, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How did you—” you start to ask, but he cuts you off before you can thank him.

“You talk out loud when you think no one’s listening.”

Jack notices the little things: how you stir your coffee just so, the gentle, rhythmic motion; how you always avoid sweeteners, opting for just the almond milk and honey; how you don't like dairy, even though it’s practically everywhere.

He watches you for a moment, the corners of his lips turning up slightly as if he’s cataloging every small detail you don’t even realize you’re giving away.

“Careful,” he says, his voice low but teasing, “You’re going to burn your tongue.”

You look up at him, surprised by the sudden attention, but there's something comforting in the way he’s paying so much attention to the smallest things.

You roll your eyes playfully, though it’s hard to keep up the facade when you feel his gaze.

“I’m fine,” you reply, but there's warmth in your voice, a subtle acknowledgment that the smallest things—like this moment, this cup of coffee—mean more than you want to admit.

He shrugs, taking a sip from his own cup, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’m just saying, you might want to take it slow with the ‘hot’ part.”

You smile, the kind that tugs at your heart just a little too much. You know exactly what he’s doing.

He’s not just watching you sip your coffee. He’s seeing you, in all the quiet ways that no one else does.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you say again, this time with more meaning, the weight of the simple gesture settling between you like a shared secret.

“It's nice of you to finally grace the outside world,” you mutter, eyeing him with a smile from the rim of your coffee cup.

“I thought you were glued to the nurse’s station, brooding over charting mistakes and bad coffee.”

“I was,” he says, voice dry.

“Then I realized I hadn’t heard you complain in twenty minutes. Figured something might be wrong.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning against the wall.

“I was going for some peaceful silence, actually.”

He snorts, a small chuckle escaping him.

“That doesn’t suit you.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. Outside, the rain falls in silver sheets, soft and steady. You both sip your coffee, letting the warmth seep into your fingers.

He glances between you, the rain, and the rim of his cup. He doesn’t say anything—just clears his throat, like he wants to speak but hasn’t found the words yet.

You raise an eyebrow, curious. “What?”

He shrugs, eyes still fixed on the window.

“You’ve been quiet lately.”

You start to respond, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t you prefer it that way?”

But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he turns to you—really turns to you—and something in his expression shifts. His eyes soften. The teasing falls away.

“I mean it. You’ve been off today. Not talking much, not—”

“Not complaining enough?” you interrupt with a light chuckle, trying to deflect.

But he just shakes his head again, gently.

“No. Seriously. Are you okay?”

You contiplate whether to tell him the truth or not on how you're doing. You look between him and the rim of your steaming cup. You know you can tell him, confide in him, but when is it too much to say?

"You can tell me," he whispers, like he can see straight through you.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze, giving a soft nod.

"I'm okay," you say lightly, almost too casually, like you're brushing it off.

"Just dealing with a lot, like always."

But he doesn't look convinced. He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours, unwavering and determined to get through to you.

"I mean it," he insists, his voice low and serious.

"Are you really okay?"

You hesitate for a moment, then offer him a smile — the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but is enough to soften the moment.

"Really, I'm good, Jack," you say, and this time, the smile feels a little more genuine. It’s enough for him to let it go, but he’s still watching you closely.

"Fine," he says, his tone easing but still laced with concern.

"If you say so."

You chuckle softly, the weight of the conversation lifting just a little.

"I’ll come to you when I’m near losing my mind," you tease, half-serious, half-joking. He raises an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’ll be waiting," he says, his voice warm, a promise hidden beneath the words.

You take a deep breath, feeling just a little lighter now. You shift closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as you both stand in quiet solidarity against the wall, side by side.

"Are you okay?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed on the rain as it falls from the sky. The question hangs between you two, and you wait, the silence stretching just long enough to make the moment feel heavier than it really is.

From the corner of your eye, you notice him shift, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," he replies softly, his voice steady but gentle.

"Right now, I am," he continues, turning his head just enough to watch you.

Right now, here with you, I am.

The thought catches him off guard, as if it’s been there all along, hiding just beneath the surface.

He doesn’t say it aloud, but something about the weight of the moment shifts, settling into him in a way that makes him feel like he’s been missing something obvious.

He watches you—how your fingers curl around your coffee, how the tip of your nose turns pink from the cold breeze, how your laughter feels like the kind of music that makes everything else fade away.

He drinks in the small details of you, trying to tell himself it’s just casual, just the way things are.

But it doesn’t feel like that anymore, or maybe it never did.

©pomelace 2025

[kilojulietsierra]

It Means Family (Dr. Jack Abbot x FemNurse!Reader) Oneshot

Based on this request from @pear-1206 : Jack Abbot x fem reader. She had a younger brother (you can give him a name if you want) who is a bit skeptical toward Jack since he's very protective of her. She had been his guardian since their parents died and he was practically being raised at the Pitt by everyone. Jack is friends with her and helps her with everything until their feelings change toward each other. He accepted Jack as his sister's bf but still held his opinion because he didn't want to see her hurt. After some time, Jack knew that he wanted to marry her and wanted her brother's permission. Maybe a series of attempts of Jack trying to gain it and the boy just messing up with him😆😆. Maybe after he's given it, she asks her brother to handoff her at her wedding. Maybe you can do it in two parts or just a long one shot. Either way, it's up to you. Suggestive, friend to lovers, kisses, etc. Ask me if anything. Tag me later!!! Thanks!!! :))? (I hope I did okay!)

~~~~~~

He had been there the night you got the call.

You wouldn't even have answered it, it had been a crazy night, but after the fifth time your phone vibrated in your pocket you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

You had dropped to the floor in the middle of the ED, your vision blurred, heart rate pounding in your ears. Blurred images of Lena and Ellis running your way, then Jack appeared.

Through your blurry vision and ringing ears you could almost see him, almost hear him saying your name. "Tell me what's wrong."

"They're gone..." It didn't sound like you talking, more like an echo, someone elses voice. "They're gone."

Then it was bereavement leave, a long flight to Honolulu, two coffins, a twenty one gun salute and a folded flag. A house on base you had 48 hours to pack up and clear out. A kid brother well over a decade younger than you that just had the whole world fall out from under him.

Night shift changed to day shift, late nights out with friends changed to school drop offs. Everything changed.

If you had worked anywhere else you weren't sure you would have made it through the first year. Lena, Dana, Bridget and Perlah, every one of them a Godsend. Without them, without Robby, and Cassie, Mateo, Princess, Frank and his wife, without them you would have drown under the weight of all of it.

You had loved night shift, but there was no way to keep that schedule and take care of your brother. You loved Robby, he was a great attending to work with, a great chief, but he wasn't Jack.

It didn't take long for you to start finding reasons to show up early if you could, or stay a little late, just to be on Jacks shift even for a few minutes. He never made a big deal about it, but he did always take the time to check in. If you were okay, if Marcus was doing ok, if you needed anything. "If either of you need anything, don't ever hesitate to ask. Okay?" There was no doubt in your mind that he meant it.

~~~~~~

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah bud, it hurt. Still does some days." Jack had his pantleg pulled up and Marcus was staring intently at the titanium and fiberglass that made up Jack's prosthesis.

"Marcus!" You hissed at him across the counter.

"He's fine." Jack had turned to look at you over his shoulder with a smile, "Just curious. Nothing wrong with that."

"Sissy, have you seen Dr Jacks fake leg?" Your little brother looked up at you from his seat on the floor, eyes wide.

You had to try not to flush from the embarrassment, "Yeah Marc, I've seen it. It's called a prosthesis though, not a fake leg. Okay?"

Your brother nodded, fumbled over the word, "Prosthesis." He nodded again, "Can I touch it."

"Marcus!" You thought you'd drop dead.

Jack just busted out in a laugh.

"Go grab your stuff out of the breakroom, please." You pointed towards the door, "We need to go." Once Marcus was gone you through a pleading look at Jack, "Dr Aboot, I am so sorry."

He stood up, shook his head with a smile, "Don't be, he's fine. Just wants to know how stuff works is all."

You gave him an apologetic smile and changed the subject, "How's night shift been?"

"We get by, not the same without you though."

"Oh I'm sure." You laughed it off but it spiked your heart rate none the less.

~~~~~

It had felt silly at first. The little crush you had always harbored for Dr. Abbot. Not in any gross or even serious way really. Just... appreciation.

You thought that it would fade after everything and with the switch to days, but instead it seemed to have magnified it. Every moment no matter how brief now had your stomach spinning and your heart racing. You lived for the little moments between shifts and had finally started to admit to yourself that you had started to seek them out. Not just to visit, to catch up with your old team mates, but because it felt good. Exilerhating.

That particular night though, you hadn't meant to see Jack. Honestly you hadn't wanted to see anyone. You had parked yourself on a bench outside the ER, grateful at first that Dana had let you slip out a little early. Then the heaviness had settled over you.

Abbot had seen you, stood and watched for a moment from the ambulance bay before heading towards you. He approached cautiously and his voice was soft, "Hey, everything okay?"

Your stomach dropped. Embarrasment, guilt, something else. "Yeah, yeah, just... needed a minute I guess."

He stared at you. Nothing new. Then he glanced at his watch and the hospital then back to you. His bag thudded on the sidewalk and he groaned softly as he settled into the bench beside you. "Want to try that again? More convincing this time?"

The laugh tasted sour, "Everything's totally fine!" You hadn't realized you had felt like crying until just then.

Jack nodded, a slim smirk at your attempt. "Where's Marcus?"

"Perlah's mom picked him up and took them over for a sleepover."

He nodded again, "That's good. Boys'll have fun."

You nodded in return and swiped at your eyes. "He talked about it all night last night, all morning."

Jack leaned his elbows on his knees and turned to try and catch your eye. "So, want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't..." You choked out another laugh, "I would if I knew. I don't even know. How stupid is that? I just feel..."

"Exhausted? Alone? Like maybe you don't want to go home to an empty house?"

You turned to look at him so fast it made him chuckle.

"I recognize that look. I know it well."

"How stupid is that?"

"Not at all."

You were both quiet for a long moment before you added, "I don't know how I ended up here. I don't know what I'm doing. I just..."

"You're doing great. Marcus is a good kid. Just need to take care of yourself too." Jack finished for you with an encouraging grin. "Go home and enjoy your night off. Drink too much, watch trashy TV, stay up late." He smiled a little wider at your chuckle. "Or go do something, go out while you have the chance."

You laughed again, harsh and still a little rough, "Go out? You're funny."

Jack grinned a little wider, "Well then go home, enjoy your night off." He stood up and grabbed his bag and then grabbed yours too. He held it out to you and used your grip on the bag to pull you to your feet. Once you finally looked him in the eye, still fighting back the tears, his smile softened slgihtly. There was something else behind it though.

"Next time you have the night to yourself, I'll take you out."

The expression on his face never changed, he just held your gaze, nodded after a moment and then gave you a quick wink before turning away and heading into the ED.

For several long moments you stood there, watching Dr Abbot walk across the street, totally taken off guard.

~~~~~

Before dinner with Jack you thought were going to have a panic attack. You'd paced your apartment, made Marcus and the sitter both stare at you oddly, came up with a dozen excuses to cancel. You only came up with one reason to follow through though; you really, really wanted to.

After dinner with Jack you couldn't even begin to remember any of the reasons you had panicked. When he stopped you a few feet short of your door and pulled you into a kiss you thought you were going to pass out. Your head spun so fast all you could do was hold onto him and hope he could keep you on your feet. Of course he did, strong arms holding you close and keeping you steady. He chuckled against your lips when a little moan escaped and you flushed with embarrassment as he pulled away to look at you.

"Not gonna lie, I've wanted to do that for a long time." He cracked a smile and studied your face as his hands smoothed over your waist.

When you could think straight you nodded, eyes stuck on his lips, "You should have done it sooner."

Jack chuckled again as he settled his lips back over yours and walked you the last few feet to your door. "I'll make it up to you, if you let me."

You moaned again and your grip on his shoulders tightened. You glanced over your shoulder at the door, conflicted, but Jack grabbed your chin and pulled you back to look at him.

He gave you a quick kiss and shook his head, "Not tonight hon." Another longer kiss, and he kept his voice low, "He's gonna have a bunch of questions if I walk in there right now."

"He always has a bunch of questions." You laugh and lean your forehead against his shoulder.

Jack wraps his arms around you fully and chuckles, breath warm against your ear. "Yes he does." He dropped a kiss there, and then selfishly dropped a longer, heated one against the side of your neck. Not pulling away until you shivered and pushed him back. Eye to eye again he gave you that look, the one you knew and loved so well, "We'll figure it out."

You nodded, smiling, heart racing, "Yeah we will."

~~~~~

"How old are you?"

"So old."

"Have you seen Lilo & Stitch?"

"I have not."

"Would you let me have a pet alien?"

"That would depend on the alien I guess."

"We lived in Hawaii. Have you been to Hawaii?"

"Once, while I was in the Army. I've even been to the base your Dad was stationed out of."

"Did you see his boat!?"

"I'm not sure, bud."

"Are you missing any other body parts?"

"Just the leg?"

"Are you a vampire?"

"Would I be out in the middle of the day if I was?"

"Can you make cheeseburgers?"

"Awesome cheeseburgers."

"Have you ever had an actual girlfriend before?"

"Yeah bud, I've had a girlfriend before."

"Have you and Sissy kissed?"

"Yes, your sister and I have kissed. More than once."

"Was it gross?"

"Not even a little bit." Jack was enjoying himself way too much as Marcus bombarded him with questions from the backseat of the truck. More specifically Jack was enjoying the way you were slumped against the window hiding your face in your hand trying not to laugh or cry.

"Marcus, I think that's enough questions." You gave Jack a pleading look, silently begging him to shut it down.

"Dr. Jack said I could ask anything I wanted."

Jack smirked at you, eyes hiding behind dark sunglasses, but you knew they were shining with glee at your suffering. "He's right, that's what I said."

"Are you going to make me eat vegetables?"

"Does Sissy make you eat vegetables?"

"Yes." Marcus mumbled.

"Then yes, I'm gonna make you eat your vegetables." Jack reached across the console and grabbed your hand. He gave it squeeze when you finally looked his way you couldn't help but smile. Jack looked over his shoulder at your little brother, "So, when do I get to start asking questions?"

"That's not fair!"

"Oh yes it is and I think it's miy turn."

~

Jack was sitting at your kitchen counter watching you make a cup of coffee, still half asleep. "What's Marcus up to today?"

You sipped the coffee while it was still hot enough to burn, "Perlah took the boys to some action park thing they just built on her end of town, gokarts, mini golf, all that."

"Should be fun. What's that gonna cost you?" Jack smirked, content to watch you wake up and sip your coffee.

"Five shifts in a row. So, they can take a long weekend." You pushed off the counter and came around like you were going to sit in the stool next to Jack.

Instead he grabbed you gently by the hips and pulled you to him, settling you between his legs with his arms around you. "You sure you don't want me to leave you alone? You can just relax today if you need to."

You let out a grumble, the meaning of it not entirely clear, but the way your weight sunk into him Jack took it to mean he should stay right where he was. It feels good to hold you like this. Head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck, and all of your weight against him with no doubt he would hold you up. "Don't know why I'm so tired," You mumbled into his neck, "Feel like I'm the one that worked last night."

Jack squeezed you tighter, "Why don't you go lay down? No reason you can't be lazy for awhile."

You grumble again, your coffee cup gets set on the counter and then you quietly ask, "Come lay down with me?"

For a second Jack froze, a dozen thoughts racing through his mind. He moved his hands back to your hips and just as quietly he whispered into your hair, "Can do that if you want." He dropped a kiss on the crown of your head and had to bite back a smile when you nodded against his shoulder. "Okay, c'mon."

Before you could stand up straight Jack had a hold of the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up to carry you down the hall. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tight and he was pleasantly surprised when you didn't act surprised, didn't argue or give him a hard time. Just let him carry you to bed.

~~~~~

A few hours later you woke up, warm and comfortable, one of Jacks arms under your head like a pillow and the other wrapped around your middle. When you sighed and shifted deeper into his hold, the arm around you tightened and you felt him press a kiss to the back of your head.

"What time is Marcus going to be back?" He sounded like maybe he had nodded off for a bit as well, his voice rough and raw.

"After lunch sometime. Sent them money for pizza." You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. Didn't want to do anything that meant you would have to get out of bed yet. Not when Jack was there with you, finally.

He nuzzled into the back of your hair and kissed you again, "Ready to get up?"

You shook your head and shuffled back, just a little closer to Jack, eyes still closed. "Aren't you normally asleep by now?"

Jack just hummed, spread his one hand wide over your torso, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt. "Took a nice nap." His breath was warm and suddenly directly beside your ear. When you shivered and moved to shift your hips back, his hand moved from your stomach to your hip and clamped down, stopping you. "Stay right there." His grip softened, but his hand stayed put.

In an instant your heart began to race, "Why?"

"Because we're cuddling, and it's nice."

You bit your lip, hearing Dr Jack Abbot say 'cuddle' nearly making you giggle. "Feels good."

Behind you Jack chuckled, something a little extra behind it. "Yeah it does." He chuckled again when you tried to move, "Hon, I said stay there."

When the thought finally occurred to you you chuckled with him, "Dr. Abbot, is something wrong?" "

Jesus." His hand on your hip squeezed harder than he'd ever gripped you, "Yes and that's not fucking helping." Jack let out a painful groan when you freed your hand from your blankets to pry his fingers lose from your hip. Not that you had to try very hard, he let you move him easily, pull his arm back around you again and finally shift your hips back flush with his. "Jesus Christ." He breathed out as both his arms caged you against him.

A shudder ran down your spine, his breath against you neck, his lips, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he held you tight and the shameless way he caved in ground his erection against your ass. Another giggle escaped you, this one breathy and unsteady.

"Happy now?" Jack teased as his kissed the back of your neck.

"Yes." You shifted back against him again, testing the waters, and smiling when his breath rushed out him. "What time is it?"

He twisted the arm under you so he could see his watch, "Little after ten."

You took a deep breath, building up the courage, your desire doing a lot of the work for you, "I'm not tired anymore."

Jack had always known you too well, and you were so grateful for that because that was all you had to say for him to snap. His hands moved exactly where he wanted them as he coaxed you to turn your head to kiss him. If the kiss hadn't knocked the wind out of you already his words would have.

"You're gonna be."

~~~~

Jack was still there when Marcus came home, changed from his scrubs into the spare jeans and shirt he kept in his backpack. He'd stayed out of sight while Perlah and you chatted by the door, neither of you quite ready for that round of questioning just yet. Or the dozens that would follow.

Your heart did a little flip in your chest when Marcus lit up upon realizing Jack was there. Your brother immediately began to explain in excruciating detail all the excitement of the adventure park and Jack seemed more than content to listen.

You watched from the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower you had taken after spending the last couple hours of your morning in bed with Jack. Your heart flipped again when you heard Marcus ask, "What are you doing here anyway?" No filter, your brother still had no filter.

Jack threw you a look and the tiniest smirk before he answered, "Came by to see your sister after work. Thought maybe I'd hang out here today and we could go out to eat later. Sound okay?"

"Yeah! Can we go to that steak place again?"

"Marc, we don't need to go someplace quite that nice."

"Why not?" He looked at you a little put out.

Jack turned to look at you again, barely holding back a full on smirk, "Yeah hon, why not?."

You knew your face had betrayed your thoughts, because that smug asshole smiled, actually smiled. "Because it's pricey" You snark back at him even as he makes his way around the counter to come stand behind you.

He sets his hands on your hips and pulls you close, "So?" He pries. Then quieter, just for you he adds, "We're celebrating."

"Stop it." You hissed at him, a flush creeping up your neck. You did your best to ignore the feel of him chuckling behind you and turned your attention back to your brother, "We aren't going anywhere until you finish your homework anyway."

"SIssy… It's Saturday." He dropped himself onto the couch dramatically.

"And we made a deal that you could go this morning and have fun if you promised to finish your homework this afternoon."

"But Dr Jack is here, we can go do fun stuff!"

Jack must have felt your deep sigh because he held you a little tighter and kissed the back of your head. He whispered, "If he get's it done can I take you guys to dinner?"

You hummed in thought and dropped your head back against his shoulder, "Ok Marc, how about you get all your work done, and then maybe we can all go to Saltfork for dinner? Seem fair?"

"Can I have the brownie skillet thing!?" He launched back up off the couch with wide eyes.

Behind you Jack full out laughed and all you could do was pinch the bridge of your nose, "We'll see."

He did a little touchdown dance in the middle of the living room and then sprinted to his room.

Once you were alone Jack turned you around and pulled you closer. Stared into your eyes, smirk still firmly on his face.

"You don't have to bribe him to like you, you know? You're like the coolest person he knows." You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder.

"Maybe I just like spoiling you both a little. Ever think of that?" His one hand slid down to cup your ass and squeeze. "Plus, like I said, we're celebrating." He snorted when you bit his chest through his t-shirt.

"Stop being so smug or it's not going to happen again." You mumbled.

Jack smirked, slipped his hand up and under the back of your shirt, warm against your bare skin, "So, you do want it to happen again?"

For a minute your embarrassment kept you silent, but you nodded and spoke into his shirt, "As often as possible."

That must have made him happy because Jack didn't say anything. He simply tipped your face up to his and kissed you. Deep, long, slow kisses that made your pulse skyrocket.

"Eww. Dr. Jack will you help me with my homework?" Marcus had reappeared.

Jack gave you one last kiss and a wink before he pulled back, "Yeah bud, what d'ya got?" He gave your hip a squeeze and then followed after Marcus as the boy ran back into his room.

~~~~~

"Is Jack going to move in?" Marcus asked one night while it was just the two of you eating dinner in the living room, watching Lilo & Stich. A treat for the both of you, acting like bums after a long week and watching a favorite movie. Even if Marcus swore it was for little kids. Never mind he knew it word for word and had watched it a thousand times.

"Jack has his own house Marc, he owns it. He's not going to move into an apartment with us." You fought down the nerves already spinning in your stomach.

"He's here a lot and normally, if you two had been together this long, you'd be living together. Right?" Marcus was a teenager now and you kind of sort of hated it. Raising your little brother was one thing, quote unquote raising your teenage brother was another game entirely.

Jack had been in Marcus's life for years now in one way or another. First as a friend of yours, then as your boyfriend, now it was clear that Jack Abbot was playing a big part in the young man your brother was becoming.

"Maybe." You pause to sip your drink, buy yourself time, "It's not always that simple though."

Your brother is quiet for a minute, watches the movie and shoves a handful of fries in his mouth. "So, are we going to move in with him?"

A week later he had asked Jack the same question. You had to work so Jack had gone to Marc's baseball game on his own. After the game they'd gone through the drivethru for food and while they waited Marc asked, "Would you want Sissy to live with you?"

Jack had a hell of a poker face, but he still nearly let it slip at that. "What do you mean?"

"If It was just you and her? You'd want to live together right?"

"Where's this coming from?"

"Just curious."

Jack thought for a minute, let the truck roll a few more feet ahead in the line. "Would you want to live with me?" He turned the question on the boy.

Marcus stared out the window, "I'd think it'd be kinda cool I guess."

"Don't think it would be weird?" Jack found himself getting his hopes up.

"Do you know how many times I have to explain to people you're not my Dad, you're my sisters boyfriend? It's already weird."

He couldn't help but laugh. Jack nodded a couple of times, "Fair enough."

~~~~~

In the middle of Jacks living room surrounded by storage totes you stood up to catch your breath and squint across the room at Jack, "Do you ever feel like we've been manipulated by a thirteen year old boy that just wanted a bigger bedroom?"

"Not a doubt in my mind." Jack laughs as he sets another tote down. "But," He closes the distance between the two of you and grabs your hips. Pulling you to him by the waistband of your shorts, "Jokes on him, I'm the one getting what I wanted all along."

You let him kiss you, enjoyed the butterflies in your stomach from making out in the middle of the house that would be your house now, not just his. Then you pulled away, "Have you ever lived with a teenage boy? You might regret this."

"I've lived in barracks." He pulls you back to him with a grin, "I've lived in a canvas tent in the middle of the desert, with twenty other dudes barely old enough to drink with no showers and eating MREs for three meals a day." You grinned along with him, while he made his point. "Think I can handle one thirteen year old boy." He sobered a little, eyes scanning your face, "Especially if it means I get you here in bed with me." Jack kissed you again, intention behind it this time as his fingers traced the waistband of your cutoffs.

When his fingers settled on the button you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, "Supposed to be unpacking." You still let your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers combing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

"You're very distracting." He dropped his gaze down to his hands as they popped the button, "Especially in these fucking shorts." His fingers moved to the zipper, pulling it open so slowly.

"So I should probably get rid of them?" You teased, but it came out breathless and jittery as he walked you back towards the couch.

Jack bobbed his head to the side as he moved to kiss you again, "No, but you should definitly take them off."

~~~~~

The number of times you watched Jack over the years, sit down with Marc and talk about anything and everything. Talk through the loss of your parents, missing out on sports team tryouts, girl troubles, trouble with friends, life in general. From the time he was a young boy and barely knew Jack beyond Dr. Jack, Sissy's friend, Marcus had always seemed to see Jack as a source of knowledge and little to no judgement.

Bad behavior that sent you up the wall was nothing to Jack. A simple conversation or at worst a hard look and it was handled. To the point that you wondered what you would have done without him if it had just been you and Marcus.

Then one night while you were out with friends, something you were finally able to do again, Jack got a call. He nearly didn't answer, because he didn't recognize the number, but he was glad he did.

He didn't speak for a long while when he entered the hallway where Marc and his three friends were sat. He simply stared them all down. When he did finally break the silence, it wasn't the sisters boyfriend Jack that spoke. It was former Army NCO Jack Abbot, Dr Jack Abbot. Stone faced he simply said, "Explain."

To Marc's credit he stood up straight, looked Jack in the eye and told the truth. Something that went a long way.

Jack took him home, the drive long and painfully quiet, and when they got home he sat him down at the kitchen to wait for you to come home.

In bed that night you had stared at the ceiling. "At least it was just a gummy. RIght? And it came from a store."

Jack grumbled next to you. You both had lectured him on how dangerous it was to take any substance when you didn't know what it was for sure or where it had come from. Anyone could say they got it from a friend of a friend that was old enough. "He's a good kid, hon. He's smart. He told the truth and that's what matters I think. Just did a dumb teenager thing."

"Thank you for going and getting him."

"Of course."

You moved closer and cuddled into him, "I'm glad he has you."

~~~~~

One morning later that summer you were getting ready for work, watching Jack in the mirror as he slipped on his running blade.

Like always Jack sensed you, knew what you were thinking before you could say it out loud. "Coach told Marc if he wanted to make JV next year he needs to work harder." He stood up and shifted his weight back and forth on the specialized prosthesis. "So, he wants to start working out with me this summer." Jack came up behind you, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "We'll see how he feels after today."

"Is it weird I think it's kinda sexy when you put that thing on?" You chuckled as he grabbed your hips.

"Yeah, it's weird." He dropped a kiss to the side of your neck, "I like weird though." You elbow him in the side and he only laughs, smacks your ass, "Have a good day, baby."

While he and Marcus jog around the neighborhood Jack can't help but let his mind wander. Half of him paying attention to Marcus talking about being able to take his driving test soon, and that he would need a car. The other half of his mind though, was occupied with a different conversation he needed to have with your brother.

Jack was a little ashamed to admit it took him the whole three miles to build up the guts to do it. They were walking down the street towards the house, cooling off. "Marc, I want to ask you something."

Your brother was still more than a little winded from the run, which honestly made jack feels a little better about himself, "Okay."

"How would you feel if your sister and I got married?" Just get it over with.

Marcus didn't answer right away, when he did it caught Jack off guard. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? Because we love each other, been together for years, because I want to."

"No, I mean," Marcus sucked in a deep breath, "Like, why now? You said it, you guys have been together for like ever."

Jack rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, had to remind himself that to Marcus it was forever. Nearly half the boys life Jack and you had been together by that point. "Honestly bud, you're old enough now that her life doesn't revolve around you like it used to." Jack had always made a point in his relationship with your brother to be as upfront as possible. "You're older now, more mature. When you were a kid I didn't want to get in the way of you and her. That was more important." He didn't know if that made sense at all, to anyone but him.

Marc nodded as they crossed a street and after a few minutes he finally responded, "Is it alright if I don't know how I feel?"

"Of course it is." Jack stopped at the corner, knew that Marcus would follow his lead, "I love your sister, think you know that, and I love you too. It's important to me that you'd be okay with it."

"So, have you already asked her to marry you or something?"

He shook his head, "No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Man to man."

Marcus nodded, "Nothing... nothing would really change right?"

Jack could see that kid in him then, the one that had once upon a time had the whole world ripped out from under him. "Not really. She might take my last name, that would be about it. It'll be easier for her to get my benefits and everything if something happened, but no, life will be pretty much the same."

"If you couldn't marry her? Are you going to get pissed?"

"Don't say pissed, especially around your sister. We'll both get in trouble. No bud, if she doesn't want it I'm not going anywhere."

"So, is this like, if our Dad was alive and you were going to ask for his permission to marry Sissy or something?"

Jack laughed, "Not quite, but sure you can think of it that way if you want."

"What if I said no?"

There was something in the kids eyes that Jack recognized all too well. "Then we're turning around and doing another three miles." Jack shoved him jokingly, "So, don't get a big head."

Marcus laughed as he caught his balance, "I don't know how I really feel about it I guess," He started as the two of them kept walking, "But, I think it would make her happy."

Jack didn't expect the stab of emotion in his chest. "Well, then how about you think on it and we can talk about it again later?"

It took Marc less than 24 hours to come back and tell Jack he thought it would be a good idea and then threaten him that if he broke your heart Jack would have him to deal with. Jack had laughed but nodded, "Understood."

~~~~~~

You had cried when Jack proposed to you, but now you could not quit smiling. Sprawled across his chest you stared at your hand in front of you, the diamond he had put on your finger, smiling.

Jack had one arm behind his head, but his other hand was drawing lazy patterns over your bare back, perfectly content to watch you in that moment. "Maybe I should have asked sooner."

Your eyes snapped back to his, "No, this is perfect." You moved to crawl up to meet him, kiss him, humming happily at the feeling of his two rough, warm hands settling low on your hips and then smoothing up your sides, over your back.

"Yeah?" He asked quietly, lips brushing over yours as he looked up at you, watching you intently.

"Perfect." You lowered more of your weight over him and he wrapped his arms around you, kissed you deeper. "Everything is perfect." You moaned when his hands moved back to your hips, pulling you straddle him. "I'm so happy Jack, you've always made me happy."

Jack nodded, cradled the back of your head and spoke directly against your lips, "Good. That's all I want hon," He paused to kiss you, the love and the meaning behind it bone deep, "Just want to make you happy."

You lost yourselves in it for a moment, kissing and touching eachother, both of you coming to terms with the knowledge that this would be the rest of your life. Jack was finally, officially, going to be a part of your tiny, broken little family. The missing piece that had brought it all together.

Suddenly you laughed, unable to stop it.

Jack grumbled, fingers dug into your hips, "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry." You kissed him, traced his tongue with yours in apology, "I just thought of something."

"Oh yeah?" Jacks eyes were laser focused as you sat up, still straddling his hips, your hands coming to rest on his torso. He let his hands slid down your thighs to rest, "Want to share?"

You bit your lip, "It's slly."

Jack just stared up at you, waiting. "Ohana."

Jack watched you, gently shook his head to say he wasn't tracking.

"Lilo & Stitch?"

Jack furrowed his brow, then shook his head, still confused. Marcus had forced him to watch the with him plenty of times when he was younger. Even still Jack would find the two of you on the couch watching the kids movie. He hadn't really put much thought into it.

"It's us." You shrugged and looked away for a second, "We watched it once, I'd only had Marcus with me for maybe... a month, if even, and I had no idea what to do so we watched movies. Like all the time." You nodded to yourself at the memories, your fingers absently tracing over the lines of muscle and a few scattered scars over Jacks chest and abdomen. "He said one day, ' Sissy! it's us.' and it is. A lost, sad, lonley, little kid, and an older sister just trying to do her best, but has no fucking clue what she's doing. Just trying to do what she can after their parents died. It's even set in Hawaii." You snorted out a laugh, "It's stupid but it was nice at the time, to see that, for both of us I think." You took a deep breath and smiled down at him.

"It means family?" Jack finally nodded, understanding he thought, his hold on you tightening, "It's little and broken, but still good, right? That's what they say?"

You nod, eyes burning again. Jack watches you, his eyes taking in all of you and then the corner of his mouth ticks up, "Does that make me the surfer dude boyfriend? WIth the muscles and the floppy hair that follows her around like a kicked puppy?"

The laugh rips out of you before you can stop it and you smack him across the chest, "I think it does." You're smiling like an idiot again as you stroke your hands over his strong core and chest, trace your fingers over the corded muscles in his arms and then you lean down. One hand combing through the graying curls you loved and your lips brushing over his. "Technically fiance."

~~~~~

It felt strange to be back in Hawaii. The last time you were here was for your parents funeral. So many emotions. You had woke up early, your internal clock messed up, but it gave you an excuse to sit and watch the sky light up over the early morning breakers. Your heart skipped a beat when Jacks arms wrapped around you from behind, his lips brushing over the side of your neck. You dropped your weight back into him, happy to feel him take it easily, keep you standing like he'd always done.

"Second thoughts?" He whispered against your ear, arms wrapped tight around you.

"Not a chance. You're stuck now, no getting out of it."

Jack hummed, a hint of a laugh in it, "Damn." His lips moved down your neck, over your shoulder. He didn't have to see you to know you had rolled your eyes. "Don't have to be up for a long time yet, hon." His hands moved to slip beneath the shirt you had worn to bed.

"Are you telling me to come back to bed?" You couldn't help but smile as you dropped your head back against his shoulder, let yourself enjoy the moment.

"Asking nicely." He chuckled into the side of your neck, "For now.'

"Well," You started, turned in his arms, "Since you asked nicely." You wrapped your arms around Jacks neck and kissed him as you let him take you back to bed.

For a few more hours anyway.

Then he was waiting for you, looking so calm and confident, smiling at you while your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest.

Beside you Marcus gave your arm a squeeze, and then he gave you an easy smile. His eyes locked on yours and unwavering. God, there was so much of Jack in him now. The way your brother stood, the way he carried himself, the confidence and certainty on his face as the seventeen year old boy stood in for your father, ready to walk you across the beach and up to the alter.

There had been a time, after that phonecall that had brought you to your knees in the middle of the ED, that you thought your life was over. Far from it you realized, It was just beginning. Sure, maybe your PTMC family was going to be a little annoyed with you when you get back from your "family vacation" and find out you and Jack had eloped, but they'd forgive you. Eventually.

~~ The End ~~

[ozarkthedog]

Jack Abbot but with Charlie Reid's infamous words.

for @yxtkiwiyxt 💙

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[wallofchynax]

WILDEST DREAMS

Synopsis: You're a sweet naive college girl who gets dragged to a wrestling show by your best friend. What you didn't know is that a certain Heartbreak Kid had his eyes on you as soon as you stepped into the afterparty bar and had his heart set on ruining you in the best way possible (Requested. Thank you for the request <3)

got a request? send it over to me <3

content warnings: alcohol, shawn being a menace, PiV sex, virginity, corruption, lots of pet names, creampies, overstimulation.

The bar was packed with rowdy wrestling fans buzzing from the nights show. Music was loud, the drinks were flowing and somewhere in all of this, you were trying to keep up with your friends who seemed much more comfortable in this enviroment than you were.  

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” Your best friend buzzed next to you as she leaned against the bar, “Do you know what this means? We might actually get to see some of the hot guys here,” 

A thought that hadn’t even crossed your mind until now. You weren’t all that much of a wrestling fan. You knew the big names, but you had been to enough shows to know who who was, and there was only one person on your mind who you wouldn’t have minded seeing.  

And that was Shawn Michaels. You had seen him at a few shows. He was cocky, arrogant and rude. The way he was booed by the fans and yet still was able to crack jokes, dance and strip as if he was bringing the house down. You guessed that maybe in a way, he was but it just seemed far removed from your experience. You were, by all accounts, a good girl who wouldn’t say boo to a ghost.  

However, you thought a lot about the Heartbreak Kid. He was handsome but his attitude maybe wasn’t your cup of tea. But you didn’t need to wonder for long. Because as you turned back toward the crowd, there he was. Shawn Michaels, in the flesh. 

He was leaning against the bar just a few feet away, drink in hand, wearing casual normal clothes but he still looked very much like a male model. His hair was slightly damp, either from sweat or from a post-match shower, and his eyes were scanning the room. 

And then his eyes landed on you. 

You were like a deer in headlights. But instead of looking away, your eyes watched him. You weren’t even dressed provocatively. Maybe not like a wrestling fan. A casual dress and a pair of boots but you weren’t dressed like you were wanting a hook up. And yet, you seen the way his eyes lingered. 

Oh dear. 

Shawn caught you staring at him and tilting his head, like he was already entertained by your reaction.  

“I... I need to go to the bathroom,” you said, cutting off your friends talking before getting up. You didn’t look at him again, but you could feel his eyes burning into your skull as you got up from your seat and through the crowd and to the bathroom. Thankfully, you weren’t followed as you went inside to hide; by pretending to fix your makeup so other people didn’t think you were having a crisis in the bathroom.  

Okay, Shawn Michaels might have been looking at you, but he might not have been. You didn’t know. You didn’t go out to clubs very often and to be fair, you were surrounded by your friends so maybe he was watching one of them.  

Yeah. After all, they were the big fans out of you and your friends. That wouldn’t be fair to bag a wrestler when you weren’t even all that much into it. Sighing, you decided you should maybe emerge from the bathroom and... 

Standing outside, waiting for you, leaning up against a wall...  

Shawn Michaels.  

You stopped.  

He grinned, pushing himself off the wall and approaching you.  

"Well, well," he said, still watching you. "Ain’t you just a sweet little thing?" 

You looked around. Was he talking to you? 

You didn’t know what to do. Your heart was racing, your face burning, and Shawn was still watching you, like he was waiting to see what you’d do next. 

“You wanna drink, sweetheart?” His voice was smooth, teasing. “Or do you just like staring?” 

Your throat went dry. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could already tell you weren’t like the women who usually threw themselves at him. 

The worst part was that the shyness? He liked it a lot. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” He reached out his hand, “I don’t bite,” 

He was close. You could smell his cologne among the smell of the club. This was a very, very bad idea.  

But you found yourself nodding, taking his hand very uncertainly much to his delight. 

“That’s a girl...” 

You looked towards your friends who were watching you hold his hand. Your best friend was grinning at you and mouthing something along the lines of Oh my god! Just talk to him!” as he turned and took you through the crowded club and to the bar. You were now seperated from your friends and now completely alone with Shawn Michaels who was buying you a drink. You didn’t really know what he was buying you but he said it was something to help you loosen up whatever that meant.  

Huh. 

“I...I’m not really sure what to say,” you admitted, looking at your glass.  

Shawn chuckled, setting his own drink down on the bar. He turned to face you fully, leaning in just slightly but enough that you could feel your pulse in your ears. He smelt so good – leather, cologne and something that was so uniquely Shawn.  

“You don’t gotta say anything,” He said, “I already like you the way that you are,” 

Oh. 

The way he was currently looking at you, like you were prey that he was circling, made your stomach flip. Too intense. Too knowing.  

“I... don’t really do this,” You admitted, glancing away from him 

“Do what?” 

“Talk to guys like you.” 

Shawn let out a low laugh, shaking his head like he found that adorable. “Guys like me, huh?” 

You could feel the heat in your cheeks. “You know what I mean.” 

He grinned, tilting his head. “Nah, sweetheart. I don’t.” 

You fidgeted with your hands, “I mean...guys who are, you know, famous...and older...and...” You trailed off, not really sure how to finish your sentence. 

Shawn was eating it up. Your nervousness lighting a fire in him that was hard to ignore. 

“You can say it,” he teased, “You think I’m trouble,” 

You nodded way too quickly, making him laugh again. 

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a little trouble,” he murmured, reaching for his drink again. “Long as you know how to handle it.” 

His eyes raked over you, taking in your nervous posture, the way you kept glancing away like you were afraid of getting caught. He loved it and you could tell. The innocence. The hesitation. It was exactly what made you different from the women who usually surrounded him. 

And Shawn Michaels loved the idea of ruining good things. 

“You’re nervous,” he observed, amused. “That’s cute.” 

“What if I don’t want trouble?” you asked, trying to ignore the way that your heart was hammering but Shawn merely laughed. 

“Then,” he began, “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” 

You immediately looked away, which only made him laugh again. 

“You’re adorable,” he said, leaning in slightly more, “Tell you what, how about you drink with me, hm? No harm in that, right?”  

You took a sip of your drink. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea. A bad idea. However, as you watched him watch you, you realised you didn’t want it to stop. Not yet. The drink in your hand was much heavier than it should have been. You didn’t drink often, maybe one or two but right now, sitting at the bar with him, you felt like it was a lifeline.  

Shawn was completely relaxed though. Elbows rested on the bar with one knee turned towards you like he had all the time in the world to watch and enjoy you. His own drink was in his hand, because he was much more interested in watching you.  

“You don’t drink much, do you?” 

You shook your head, “Not really,” 

Shawn grinned, “That’s cute...” 

Cute. He kept calling you cute like a compulsion. Like he just couldn’t help himself.  

“You don’t got to be all shy, sweetheart,” he coaxed, nudging his drink towards you, “Go on, loosen up a little bit,” 

You glanced at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink. It was that you were so hyper aware of who you were drinking with. He knew that, of course he did.  

“C’mon,” Shawn encouraged, tilting his head, “Let’s have a little fun,” 

You took another sip. The alcohol burned down and you scrunched your nose up. Of course, Shawn chuckled at this. 

“That’s adorable,” He shook his head, taking a sip of your own drink.  

Your face burned. “What?” 

“You,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re just so… damn sweet.” 

You looked away, embarrassed, but he wasn’t done with you yet. 

“You’re not used to this, huh?” he teased, eyes gleaming. 

“This?” 

“Drinking’.” His smirk deepened. “Me.” 

Your heart stopped and you wanted to throw yourself out of the window.  

“See” Shawn grinned, “You get all shy when I say it out loud,” 

“That...” You said, shaking your head despite your cheeks getting all flushed, “That’s not true!” 

“Oh, but it is,” Shawn chuckled, leaning in some more, “But it’s real cute, baby,” 

Baby.  

You were so screwed.  

Shawn watched you like a man completely entertained, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. The bar felt warmer now. Maybe it was the alcohol settling in your stomach, or maybe it was the way Shawn Michaels was watching you, like he was enjoying every little nervous fidget, every shy glance away. 

You took another sip, smaller this time, but Shawn still noticed. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured, tilting his glass toward you before taking a slow drink of his own. 

That damn smirk was still on his face. Like he had all the patience in the world to pull you into this little game of his. 

You cleared your throat. 

“So, you like drinking with random girls after shows,”  

“Nah,” Shawn chuckled, swirling the liquor in his glass, “Nah. I like drinking with you,” 

That was too smooth, too fucking smooth.  

Shawn leaned in just a little bit closer, close enough that you caught the scene of his cologne, the warmth of him just inches away, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You’re looking at me as if I said something real dangerous,” 

Your drink was almost gone now, and you had no idea when that happened. Maybe it was because he made you so nervous you kept drinking just to do something with your hands. 

And Shawn, being Shawn, noticed. 

“You’re keepin’ up real good,” he said, eyes flickering to your glass. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Your pride flared at that. “I can handle my liquor just fine.” 

Why did you say that? Because now he was laughing at you again like you had just said the funniest thing in the world that night, “Oh, baby. You’re just makin’ this too easy...” 

“What does that mean?” 

He took a slow sip, watching you over the rim of his glass like a cat playing with its food.  

“I mean, I could sit here all night, just watching you get flustered but...” He began, “I think I’d rather see what you’re like when you relax,” 

What does that even MEAN?  

Shawn tilted his head, studying you. “What are you so nervous about, huh? It’s just a drink. Just a little fun.” 

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I—” 

“You do.” His voice was so sure, so confident. “You just don’t know if you should.” 

He had you. 

Your stomach twisted. You should leave. 

But you didn’t. 

Instead, you let him pour you another drink. Shawn smiled as you picked it up, watching the way your fingers curled around the glass. Like he had just won something. 

“There you go,” he murmured, voice like silk. “Now, let’s see if you can really keep up.” 

You swallowed hard. This was a mistake. 

But you still took another sip. The room was buzzing, but all you could hear was him. 

Shawn’s voice was in your head, curling around your thoughts, making you dizzy, or maybe that was the alcohol, sinking into your bloodstream faster than you were used to. You should stop. You should 100% stop and go back to your best friend who you were sure left you to drink with Shawn. You were beginning to sway. 

But then Shawn leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted against your skin, and rational thought disappeared. 

“You’re getting real cute now,” he murmured, watching the way you swayed slightly in your seat. “Little flushed. Little shy. Think I like you like this.” 

Your fingers curled against the bar top. “I’m....I don’t...” 

Shawn chuckled, tipping his drink back before setting it down, his fingers idly tapping against the glass as he studied you. “You don’t what, sweetheart?” 

Your breath caught. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I don’t… usually drink this much.” 

Shawn grinned. “Oh, I can tell.” 

Heat flared in your face. He was enjoying this. 

“You don’t gotta look so guilty,” he teased. “Ain’t nothing wrong with cutting’ loose every once in a while.” 

His voice was so smooth, so easy, like he was talking about something completely harmless. But his eyes told a different story. 

Shawn Michaels was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Your pulse kicked up, and you instinctively reached for your drink again, taking another slow sip just to steady yourself. 

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice dropping just slightly. “Get nice and relaxed for me.” 

This was dangerous. 

And you wanted more. 

“I think—” You swallowed, heart pounding. “I think you like messing with me.” 

Shawn laughed, slow and lazy. “You just now figuring that out?” 

You stared at him, breath coming a little quicker now. You should walk away. You should say goodnight. 

Instead, you leaned in. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it. M aybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he already knew how this night was gonna end. 

Shawn noticed immediately. 

“Oh, look at you,” he purred, tilting his head. “Finally gettin’ brave on me.” 

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Shawn was already moving. 

His hand brushed against your thigh—barely there, just enough to feel it. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t let you go. 

“You still nervous, sweetheart?” His voice was softer now, more intimate. Like it was just you and him in this bar. 

Your heart hammered.  

“I... Yeah...” 

Shawn smirked. “That’s cute.” 

His fingers ghosted higher, teasing, testing—watching to see if you’d stop him. 

You didn’t.  

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, as he reached for your hand. 

Your breath hitched when his fingers curled around yours, strong, sure, unshakable. 

You had no idea how it happened—one second you were at the bar, the next, you were outside, pressed up against the cool metal of a sleek black car. 

Shawn caged you in without even trying, one hand braced against the roof, his body just close enough to let you feel the heat radiating off him. 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” His voice was slow, teasing, but his eyes, his eyes were hungry. 

Your breath came a little too fast. “Y-yeah.” 

Shawn chuckled, reaching for the door handle. “Good girl. Get in.”

The drive was a blur. 

You could still feel the burn of liquor in your throat, the buzz in your limbs, the way your pulse pounded every time Shawn’s fingers brushed against your thigh, deliberate and slow, like he was reminding you exactly who was in control. By the time you reached the hotel, your heart was hammering. Shawn barely looked back as he led you through the lobby, like he’d done this a million times before. Maybe he had. You didn’t care. 

His room was massice. A suite with a plus carpet, soft golden lighting and a bed that was so big it was almost ridiculous.  

Then, that was when you felt him. 

Shawn moved in behind you, slow and deliberate, his fingers brushing over your arm before sliding up your shoulder. 

You swallowed hard. 

“Yes...I am,” 

Shawn made a low pleased sound, his breath ghosting over your neck. Your back was pressing against his chest, warm and solid.  

“Cute...” he murmered, “You don’t have to be. You trust me, right?” 

The question made your breath hitch as his hands slid down your arm. Slowly, rousing, waiting.  

He could feel you trembling and that...was fucking hot to him. 

“I think so,” you admitted. 

“Good enough for me,” 

That was when he turned you around and you barely had any time to think before he kissed you. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was deep, slow and claiming. It was like from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he decided he had to make you his and there was no going back from here. Hot and demanding, like he had been waiting for this moment all night.  

His hands were holding onto your hips, firm and possessive as he had you flush against him. The heat of him was overwhelming. Your fingers curled onto the soft fabric of his shirt, nails were digging slightly and he lowly growled. A low sound that gave you butterflies.  

“Fuck...” his voice was heavy against your lips, “You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” 

His words made your whole body burn.  

You barely had a moment to think when his hands were on the move, sliding down the curve of your waist before gripping the backs of your thighs and then, you gasped as he lifted you off the floor.  

“Sh-Shawn!” 

“Shhh,” He whispered against your lips, effortlessly carrying you to the bed, “Don’t worry, I got you,” 

The next thing you knew, you were on the mattress, sinking into the plush sheets as Shawn hovered over you, that damn smirk still playing on his lips. 

“You’re real pretty, you know that?” His voice was low, rough, his fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. “Bet you’ve never had anyone tell you that the way you should.” 

You sucked in a breath, your entire body thrumming. 

Shawn’s fingers brushed higher, teasing your skin. “I can make you feel really good, baby.” 

You swallowed hard. “I...I don’t know what to do.” 

His lips ghosted over your jaw, down to your throat. “That’s the best part.” 

He kissed you there, slow, open-mouthed, just to feel you shiver. 

“You just let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “Let me ruin you a little.” 

Shawn pulled back just enough to see the way your lips parted, the way your body melted into his touch. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, half-drunk on the sight of you. “That’s my good girl.” His hands slid under your shirt, slow and teasing as they trailed under your skin.  

“Shawn...” 

He hushed you with a slow drag of his lips against your throat, teasing, tasting, “Relax...let me take care of you,” 

His hands roamed higher, pushing up your shirt inch by inch, exposing more of you to the cool air of the hotel room. He was taking his time, enjoying the way you squirmed under his touch, the way your breath caught. 

“You’re enjoying this are you?” He murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with amusement, “You wanna be a good girl for me?” 

You couldn’t even form words, especially when Shawn is pressing his fingers dangerously below your waistband. 

“I think you do...” He slid his hand into your jeans, cupping over the front of your panties. A gasp left your lips, your hips instinctively twitching against his arm. This made Shawn groan feeling you were driving him insane right now. This made him kiss you again, hungrier, rougher as his fingers pressed against the growing head between your legs.  

“So soft...so wet...You really were waiting for me to touch you, weren’t you,” 

Your cheeks burned, mortified by how easily he was making you come undone. Before you could reply, he pushed your jeans down, along with your panties and before you could even process what was going on, he was on his knees between your legs. The sight alone made you feel dizzy. Then, his mouth was on you. Your back arched off the bed as his tongue traced slow, deliberate circles over your clit, taking his time, savoring every little sound you made. He hummed against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. 

 His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you in place as he devoured you, flicking his tongue in just the right way before pulling back slightly to smirk up at you. 

 “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby.” His voice was gravelly, wrecked. “Bet you’ve never had anyone eat you like this before.” 

You could barely breathe, let alone answer. 

Shawn didn’t wait. 

He dipped his head again, this time sucking your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, hands tangling in his hair, desperate, needing something to hold onto. He moaned against you, clearly loving every second of this, his tongue lapping you up like he was starving for it. 

 And then, one of his fingers slid inside you. Your whole body jerked, but Shawn’s grip held you steady as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, stretching you, teasing you open. 

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, his lips slick against your skin. “So fuckin’ tight.” 

 He added a second finger, curling them just right, hitting a spot that made your vision go white. 

“Shawn, oh my God-” 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, his pace quickening, his mouth working you over like he was determined to make you fall apart. “Give it to me.” 

And when he sucked on your clit again, everything snapped. 

Your orgasm hit you like a train, your body arching, shaking, a loud, desperate moan spilling from your lips as Shawn groaned against you, his grip tightening like he was holding on for the ride. 

“You’re looking so fucking pretty like this...” He looked like he had been getting drunk off of the taste of your pussy. Your body was flushed but you knew that Shawn wasn’t done with you... because when he got up on the balls of his feed, you saw the bulge straining in his jeans.  

When he saw you staring, his smirk turned wicked. 

“Don’t worry baby,” he said, beginning to undo his belt slowly, teasing you as your eyes never left his crotch, “We’re just getting started...” 

You knew what was coming but even when he pushed his jeans and boxers down enough, your mouth went dry. 

He was big.  

Thick, flushed and rock hard, standing against his stomach with beads of precum already glistening from the tip. He saw the way your eyes widened, and god, he looked like he was having the time of his life. 

“Ain’t so nervous now, huh?” He teased, stroking himself lazily but you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to and he noticed. 

“You want to touch it, sweetheart?” 

You swallowed hard and nodded, “I don’t know how...” but regardless of your words, you reached toward, and his hand reached out to guide yours. Your fingers curled around his length, and his breath hitched, his hips giving a tiny involuntary jerk at the contact. 

“Fuck, baby.” His voice dropped, rough and wrecked. “That’s it.” 

You hesitated at first, your strokes shy, uncertain. His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched as his hand covered yours to set the rhythm. 

“Just like that...” he groaned, hips rolling into your touch. The sounds he were making were low, desperate and needy, sending pools of head between your thighs all over again.  

However, Shawn had decided that he had enough and with one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away and pinned you to the bed, hovering over you. 

“Are you ready for me?” 

It was hard to think of the answer when you felt the tip of his cock sliding against your soaked folds, teasing you and coating himself in your wetness. 

You didn’t need to answer. All you did was lift your hips instinctively. So, he pushed inside. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he stretched you open, inch by inch, filling you completely. 

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his voice shaking with restraint. “I got you.” 

His lips brushed your jaw, your throat, kissing you through the burn, through the overwhelming sensation of being so full of him. 

When he was fully seated inside you, he stilled, sucking in a sharp breath. You couldn’t think of anything. All you could focus on was how good Shawn felt inside of you.  How much you enjoyed the feeling of him stretching you out.  

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice raspy. “So fuckin’ tight.” 

You whimpered, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh, baby. You’re gonna ruin me.” 

And then he started moving. 

Slow at first, deep, deliberate thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of him. 

You cried out, hands clutching at his back, overwhelmed by the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly. Your nails were digging into his shoulders which made him groan as his pace began to quicken as one hand was at one side of your head and the other one was holding your hips in place. 

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, voice thick with lust and possession. “Take me. Just like that.” 

He was relentless now driving into you harder, faster, deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, every roll of his hips hitting you in just the right spot. That familiar spot that made you see stars 

“Sh-Shawn...please!” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he groaned, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. 

He rubbed tight perfect circles that matched his thrusts as his thrusts got rougher and harder, slamming into your sweet spot. 

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he said, voice against your lips as raspy as sin, “Wanna feel my good girl cum on my cock...” 

He slammed himself into you just right with his fingers pressing down and then it happened. Your second orgasm crashed over you as your body clenching, trembling and shaking as the pleasure was all consuming. Shawn cursed, likely feeling your cunt clench around him, buried his face against your neck as his face became erratic and desperate.  

“Fuck baby...” he groaned, his cock twitching deep inside you, “Gonna fill your sweet pussy up...” 

And then it happened. With a deep, guttural moan, spilling himself entirely inside of you. You could feel him fill you up making your eyes flutter delightfully. The only sound left in the room was the heavy panting of two bodies completely wrecked. 

Shawn didn’t pull away immediately. 

He stayed there, still inside you, pressing lazy kisses against your damp skin. 

“Damn,” he finally muttered, voice hoarse, satisfied. 

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. And Shawn? Well, he just smirked against your throat. 

“Told you a little trouble wouldn’t hurt.” 

[davemeowsalot]

Shasmine shasmine I loveyou

Umm tdpi was honestly one of my favorite seasons it's so over hated but Shawn and Jasmine did carry the season (I also love Dave he's so over hated 😭

[addictedtostorytelling]

CLYDE vs. ANDRE in episode 13x07 "jigsaw"

[witchbitchlovesdilfs]

<3

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist for the Pain Relief series! I have a few fics to write before I make a sequel, but I will make it asap.

[sinful-lanterns]

What outfits would be the most bizarre and from who? (From the latest Garofano ask! I thought that was really funny and cool, AND ALSO ELEVEN WANTING TO PUT READER INTO AN E-GIRL COSTUME 💀😭)

- Korryn requesting for you to be put in a sexy cow costume is pretty up there for Garofano. She’s never sewed such a costume before 😭😭

- Raven has also requested for you to dress up as a celebrity, because she’s fantasized about having a scandal with you and fucking you in a reporter x celebrity roleplay.

- Lamia has requested for you to be a mermaid once. (She even requested Garofano to make slits in your tail so she could finger-fuck you easier)

- Cabernet once straight up asked Garofano to dress you in an outfit inspired by grapes. Whatever that meant…

- Bianca did the same thing as Cabernet but your outfit was inspired by apples.

- Serpent wanted you to be a sexy mouse.

- Angell has a maid outfit kink. Garofano has made her several different ones in varying styles, all for you.

[abbotjack]

thinking about sending robby and abbot nudes but they’re both old and sext illiterate so they respond with something like 👍

Message Received (18+ MDNI)

Content & Warnings: NSFW (18+), suggestive photo reference, fingering (Jack), oral sex f!receiving (Robby), established relationship, dom!Jack energy, softdom!Robby energy, dirty talk, mild brat!reader, age gap, tension-heavy buildup, emotionally grounded smut, and just two very different men completely wrecked by one photo.

word count : 1,723

📩 Robby – “thumbs up.”

You send it on a whim.

Soft lighting. A lace bra you didn’t really plan to wear today. Not overt, but obvious enough.

You wait maybe thirty seconds before regretting it.

Another fifteen before his reply pops up.

Robby : 👍

Just the emoji. No caption. No follow-up. No “holy shit” or “you’re killing me” or “I’m leaving work right now.”

Just… a thumbs up.

You stare at it like it might change.

You : Are you serious?

Three dots appear. Then vanish. Then reappear again.

Finally:

Robby : Sorry. Was in the break room. Looked amazing. Shouldn’t be looking at you like that while Dana’s eating a yogurt next to me.

You laugh—because of course he’s being normal about it. Of course he’s being Robby.

You : Yogurt’s more important than me?

There’s a long pause.

Then:

Robby : No. You’re very distracting. I didn’t know what to say.

That makes you smile. Still, you want more.

You : Wish you were here.

It’s hours later when you hear the key in the lock.

Late enough that you thought he might not come. Late enough that part of you hoped he wouldn’t—just so you wouldn’t have to sit there pretending you weren’t still thinking about that dumb thumbs up.

But the door opens.

And Robby steps inside.

He shuts it behind him gently, like he’s trying not to make too much noise. Drops his keys on the table. Looks at you like he’s still catching his breath from something that’s been building all night.

You’re still in that bra.

The same one from the photo. Still waiting.

He exhales—low, unsteady.

“You’re so mean,” he murmurs. “You know that?”

You tilt your head. “I’m thoughtful.”

He starts unbuttoning his coat. “You sent that while I was sitting next to Dana.”

“I noticed.”

“I panicked.”

“You sent a thumbs up.”

“I panicked hard.”

He shrugs the coat off and crosses the room. Slower than usual. Like he’s not sure he can walk and think at the same time.

“I opened it,” he says when he stops in front of you. “And then had to sit there like I didn’t just get hit by a truck.”

You smile. “You seemed fine.”

“That was me dissociating.”

You laugh, but it’s quiet. He’s close now. Close enough to feel the heat coming off him.

He raises a hand and brushes it down your side—light, steady, like he’s grounding himself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he says, voice soft. “What you looked like right before you took it. How long you waited to see if I’d say something else.”

“I wasn’t waiting,” you lie.

He just hums, stepping forward, crowding you gently until your back finds the wall. One hand braces beside your head. The other finds your waist.

“No?” he murmurs, dipping just enough to brush his mouth near your jaw. “You weren’t hoping I’d come home like this?”

Your fingers twist in the front of his shirt. “Maybe a little.”

He kisses you.

It’s soft, at first. Familiar. But there’s a tremble behind it, something fraying. You sigh into his mouth, and when you do, he groans—quiet, rough—and presses in harder. His hands move lower, gripping your hips like he needs to feel every inch of you.

“I wanted to say something,” he whispers against your cheek. “Wanted to tell you what I was thinking.”

“Then tell me.”

He doesn’t.

Instead, he drops to his knees.

You gasp, and he looks up once—just once—to make sure you’re still with him. You are.

He reaches up, hooks his thumbs into your underwear, and pulls them down slow. Gentle. Careful. Like he’s unwrapping something precious.

One hand glides up behind your thigh, lifting it over his shoulder. The other anchors you at the waist.

He kisses your hip first. Then your inner thigh. Then higher.

His stubble scrapes just enough to make you shiver.

And when his mouth finally touches you—hot, open, reverent—you feel your knees nearly buckle.

He holds you steady.

He groans softly at the first taste. Then again when you tilt into him.

You brace yourself against the wall, hand clutching the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair.

He moves slow at first. Methodical. Like he’s trying to memorize you. No rush, no teasing. Just full, devoted attention—lips, tongue, breath—all focused on pulling you apart with steady, quiet purpose.

When you gasp his name, he tightens his grip on your thigh and pulls you closer, mouth sealing over you deeper.

He doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t need to.

Because this is everything he couldn’t say. Everything he didn’t know how to text. Everything he’s been holding back since you first pressed send.

And it’s all here now—on his knees, in his hands, in the way he keeps going until your head hits the wall behind you and all you can do is feel.

📩 Jack – “what is that”

You send it because you’re bored.

Lying in bed. Still damp from the shower. Wrapped in a towel that barely covers anything, legs stretched out across the sheets like you’re not waiting for an excuse. The lighting’s soft—just your bedside lamp, low and gold. It makes your skin look warm. Intentional. You angled yourself toward it on purpose.

You look good. You know you look good.

And Jack? Jack’s on shift. Third night in a row. Which means you haven’t seen him—really seen him—in two days, unless you count that half-second yesterday when you passed in the hallway, both headed in opposite directions. He didn’t stop. Barely glanced. Just muttered “go home” without breaking stride—like looking at you for more than a second might’ve done something to him.

Like it already had.

So you take the photo. Legs just slightly spread. A caption typed with two thumbs and no shame:

You : come home, I miss you

Delivered. Read

Then:

Jack : what is that

You stare at your phone.

You blink.

You : What do you mean what is that. It’s a nude, Jack.

Read.

And then… nothing.

No follow-up. No typing bubbles. No emoji. Not even a fucking ellipsis.

You huff. Dramatic. Roll onto your side with a groan and grab a fistful of blanket like it’s going to do anything to cool the ache you definitely caused yourself.

If you didn’t know him, you’d think he didn’t care.

But you do know him.

And that silence?

That’s not indifference.

That’s a promise.

You’re in for it.

You’re lounging in bed in your underwear when you hear the door.

It’s late. Past midnight. You don’t move.

Jack steps in. Damp from the rain, scrubs wrinkled. He closes the door, sets his keys down, shrugs off his jacket.

Still doesn’t look at you.

You wait. Quiet.

Then—

“You send that picture just to piss me off?”

You smirk. “I was being sweet.”

He finally turns.

“You don’t do sweet.”

“Didn’t realize nudes were so boring to you,” you murmur, stretched out across the sheets. “I won’t do it again.”

His jaw ticks. “I was working.”

You tilt your head. “And now?”

He moves.

One step. Then another. Slow. Controlled.

Until he’s standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you like he’s still deciding which part of you to ruin first.

He climbs onto the bed, slow and deliberate, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. You watch the tight line of his shoulders, the way his jaw works like he’s still biting back everything he couldn’t say earlier.

“Now you’re getting what you wanted.”

You blink up at him, lashes fluttering. “Oh? What’s that?”

Jack shifts closer, grabs your thigh—strong, steady—and lifts it over his hip, settling himself between your legs. His palm drags down your outer thigh like he’s lining you up. Holding you there. Making you wait.

“Me.”

Then he kisses you.

Rough. Steady. Like he’s been playing this on loop since the second that photo hit his phone and ruined him.

His mouth opens over yours like he needs it just to stay upright. You arch instinctively, back bowing into the pressure, thighs tightening around his hips.

“Thought about this all fucking day,” he mutters into your skin, lips at your throat. “You don’t get to send me that and pretend you didn’t know what it’d do.”

You smirk, rocking your hips into his. “Did it ruin your shift?”

He laughs under his breath—dark, quiet. Dangerous.

“Don’t push it.”

You grind into him again. Slower this time. Testing.

“I missed you,” you whisper, low and saccharine.

He hums—sharp, dry. “Yeah?”

Then his hand moves.

Fast. Precise.

His fingers hook under your panties and tug them down—slow enough to draw a shiver out of you, fast enough to say he’s not asking. They’re gone a second later, tossed somewhere near the foot of the bed.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

Doesn’t say a word as he slides his fingers between your thighs.

You gasp when he finds you—already wet, already aching—and his lips twitch like he’s smug about it. Like he knew.

“You’re soaked,” he says, voice barely audible. “Figured.”

His fingers move slow at first. Two of them. Deep. Steady.

You moan—quiet, caught—and Jack exhales like that was what he needed. The confirmation. The surrender.

His thumb finds your clit. No teasing. Just pressure—tight and constant and mean.

Your hips jump. Your fingers grip his wrist.

He doesn’t let up.

“Jack—”

He shushes you with a kiss, his hand working between your legs like he has all the time in the world.

You cry out—nearly choking on it.

He curls his fingers.

You jolt.

“There she is.”

His voice is steady. Like nothing about this has affected him. Like he’s not hard under his scrubs, not unraveling with every pulse of you around his hand.

He leans in, lips brushing your cheek.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

You nod, dizzy.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “God—yes.”

His mouth grazes your jaw.

“Good.”

He doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re shaking.

Not until you’re arching into him, hand clutching the sheets, panting his name through clenched teeth like that photo wasn’t the start—it was the warning.

And this?

This is what happens when he finally opens it.

[wesandresons]

[thlayli-ra]

Trick or Treat 2 electric boogaloo! Art request for HHHBK. Shawn tugging Hunter down by the collar and making flirty eyes at him while Hunter is grumpy blushing. For numbers let's go 12 for Shawn and 6 for Hunter. (Again, thank you. I owe you my life, fr)

Perfect choices there!

[ash5monster01]

yay to pickford fics omg so hard to find!!! could you do fem!reader pls angsty with a little smut is fine, love your fics all the same so i’m not too picky <3

Hate To Love You

Pairing: Kevin Pickford x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral - male receiving, fingering, semi-public, dirty talk, angst, enemy/lover relationship, it's really dirty - my bad, no use of y/n

Summary: Kevin Pickford is your mortal enemy but he also turns out to be extremely good in different ways that you plan to exploit for future use.

word count: 3.1k

Masterlist

"Slater, you can't be serious," you scowl, kicking rocks along the sidewalk as you near the house you'd rather set on fire. Though if you did that, it might only get the entire town high. Slater is too greened out to recognize any of the weight to your words, head in the clouds, and amused smile on his face. 

"C'mon, I just need Kev to hit me with an ounce or so and then we'll be on our way," he reminds you, elbow nudging your arm as you spot the driveway. The orange GTO is the only car in attendance, which was a relief when you realized you wouldn't have to fake any pleasantries with the parents of your sworn enemy. Kevin Pickford had been a nightmare since middle school. Not only did he have a wealthy family who provided him everything but he also had spent the past five years dedicated to torturing you. It started with spitballs, then moved to leaving various unwarranted items in your locker, and now relied solely on the consistent teasing from him at every social event you both attended. 

"Kevin doesn't like me Slate, I can sit this one out," you huff, arms crossing over your chest as you both stop in front of the boys house. It had been a month since Kevin and Michelle had broken up and despite the good news of gaining a friend back, it had also been the worst. Kevin's lack of a partner had turned Slater's visits to almost triple the amount and he had dragged you along for almost all of them. 

"Well maybe we should all just get along, he's my buddy man, and you are too. I say we even cruise with him to this party tonight," Slater says in his normal dazed tone, finding the simplicity in your long and horrible relationship with the boy. Discovering you're now expected to cruise with him tonight has become even more dreadful. Yet you have no more time to complain when Pickford appears in the doorway, unbuttoned shirt barely hanging on his shoulders as he grins at you both. 

"Customers, welcome," he nods his head, holding onto the 'S' sound in customers for far longer than appropriate. The instant reaction of rolling your eyes is opposite of the happy nod Slater greets him back with but it doesn't stop you from getting dragged into the house after him. Begrudgingly you climb the stairs up into the familiar room despite how many times you've tried to stay away, and settle on one of the various seats that had been set up for many weed induced visitors. 

"C'mon Sweetheart, a smile at least," Kevin calls, sly lips closing around the end of a roach he had left behind and you just shake your head, the sound of the nickname annoying you only further. Your heart used to flutter at such words but since Kevin had referred to using that instead of your name, they no longer held such weight. 

"Nothing to smile about when it involves you," you say, a pointed look directed at him but Kevin doesn't take any of it to heart, only laughs as he settles into his chair. 

"Well sweetheart, you're not getting rid of me anytime soon," and you can only scowl because it was true. Your circle of friends had always been the same, a million threads tied between you both, and no matter how much he pushed your buttons he was here to stay. So instead of giving him more reason to annoy you, you scoop up a magazine off the table and open it while him and Slater discuss their weed. Counting down the minutes until you could get away. 

When night time appears it feels as if you'd been in Kevin's house longer than intended, but luckily he finally puts on a shirt and some shoes before leading you both out the door. Slater slides into the back seat, not even realizing he had left you with one of two options. Get in the back and face lip from Kevin all night for avoiding him or ride shotgun and put yourself in the intimate position of being a riding partner on a night out. Neither sounds appealing but the latter is the safer bet, so as the engine roars to life you slide into the leather seat and avoid his eyes paired with the knowing smirk on his face. 

"Emporium or Benny's?" Slater asks once on the road, adjusting the rear view mirror. He looks different in his car, something about the colorful dash lights reflecting on his face and wild long hair ruffling in the wind. It would be silly to not notice the boy's attractiveness, there was a reason he always had his abs out. Kevin not only lucked out in everything in life but had the beauty to match. You despised him, but for some reason when he pushes in the clutch and shifts the car so seamlessly, his hand barely brushing the side of your pants, you can't help but push your legs together. 

"Benny's, Emporium is probably dull man," Slater answers, a cloud of smoke following his response. He’s more than likely right since it wasn’t often Benny threw parties, the rarity would bring the majority of the crowd, including them. 

“I don’t care either way,” you answer as if you had a choice anyways. If you had given an answer, Kevin would’ve probably picked the opposite just to push your buttons. 

“Benny’s it is,” he agrees and speeds in the direction of the red head's house and past the Emporium with only two cars in the driveway. When you arrive, the cluster of vehicles is a dead giveaway of whatever madness is happening inside. Your hand reaches for the car door but Kevin reaches across, stopping you before you have the chance. You flash him a confused look, his long arm overstretched across your chest and trapping you in. 

"Slater, why don't you go in while me and Sweetheart have a quick chat here?" he says, eyes never leaving your own and Slater doesn't even question the request as Kevin pops the back of his seat and pulls it against himself so Slater can slide out. 

"See you in there guys," the boy grins before sauntering away and Kevin closes you both back into the dark cab of the GTO. When he cuts the engine, the lights from the dash disappear and make it even darker. He was good at making you uneasy but he was even more unnerving when it was just the two of you. In fact, you were certain this was the very first time you both had ever been alone with each other. 

"Any particular reason you're holding me hostage?" you inquire, feigning confidence in hopes he can't see the way you shift in your seat. What you didn't understand was that you weren't scared, or even uncomfortable, so whatever had you on edge was something you hadn't felt before, at least with him. 

“I think it's about time we hash out this little thing between us," he grins, a determined look on his face and your shoulders tighten at the suggestion. You couldn't stand Kevin and you probably never would. 

"I didn't think you were even capable of having that kind of mature conversation," you say, arms crossing in front of you and you don't miss the way Kevin's eyes drop and fixate on your cleavage, your breasts pushed up due to your crossed arms. The notion makes your cheeks flush and you're thankful for the dark car.  

"Such a sassy mouth you have, need to find something to shut you up," and his heavy and deep voice paired with the gaze on your body has your knees pushing together again, goosebumps traveling down your arms, and since his eyes were already on you he noticed it all.

“You wish,” you mutter, eager to get into the party and maybe find the comfort of Jodi or Cynthia, hell even Pink would suffice at this point. You weren’t certain what dangers lurked while you were stuck in the car with Kevin but he at least could’ve let you find a drink in the party before trapping you in here. 

“Actually I do, it would be fun,” and the way he says the words suggests so much more. His smirk is now gone, serious eyes boring into your own and a shiver licks up your spine. It’s in this moment you discover the uneasiness you had felt was nothing more than attraction. A need in you pulling you towards him which only made you uneasy because you normally wanted to get as far away as possible. So what you decide to say next shocks you both. 

“Yeah, and how would you do that?” Kevin’s eyebrows raise, a little taken back by the question but mind running with a million possibilities. He had only tortured you for so long because of how bad he wanted you. It was weird to feel that need pulling in him when he hadn’t needed anyone before. 

Instead of answering the boy just smiles, a hand falling to your knee while a small gasp leaves your lips. He leans close and panic fills your lungs, crazed eyes trying to determine his next move. When he’s an inch away from your lips, nose barely brushing against your own, he lets off a heavy sigh.

“Relax sweetheart, it’s just me,” he reminds you and it should be amusing. He had done nothing but embarrass you but what you hadn’t realized is during all that time, you had also gotten to know him. He was a safe, someone to rely on, and that’s why your shoulders ease. He slowly closes the gap and at first his lips feel weird against yours, something unexpected, but when you kiss back it’s so much more. The hand not on your knee travels into your hair and he starts kissing you like his life depends on it and it kills you to admit that it’s better than any kiss you’ve had before. 

“This is your bright idea?” you mutter between kisses, teasing him for thinking he could kiss you stupid but then the hand on your knee travels up. Fingers heavy on your inner thigh and the words get caught in your throat all over again. 

“I had a few other things in mind,” he says breathily, lips dragging over your jaw and neck when his fingers finally nudge against your heat. Your legs tighten around his hand and he grins because you have yet to mutter another word. 

He continues to kiss you anywhere he can reach, skilled fingers popping the button of your jeans and dragging down your zipper. None of this could be real, your head fuzzy with the feeling of your mortal enemy pressed against you like this. You're practically on autopilot when he starts to tug at the hem of your pants and your hips lift to speed up the process. Pretty soon you're just another girl in the front of Kevin Pickford’s orange GTO with her pants pooled around her ankles. 

“Cute panties,” he teases, eyeing the yellow ones with lace trim that you wear. You blush a deeper red but this time you don’t care because the desperate need for him to touch you is stronger. He grins when he discovers you’ve still lost your voice and he drags two fingers across the fabric. You can feel how soaked they are when he presses the underwear against you. Your chest rises fast and heavily with anticipation as you crave his touch. It’s scary how quick you’ve folded for him. 

“Too bad I didn’t wear them for you,” you tease and something blazes behind his eyes, a hunger that makes you instantly regret sassing him again. Especially with the implication that you had intended for someone else to see them. 

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, his hand dips under the hem, a finger slowly pushing through your folds as he absorbs every reaction that flashes on your face. You gulp nervously as he swirls his fingers around, collecting your arousal and finding his ground. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth when his thumb brushes against your clit and the deep whine that leaves your throat only encourages him more. 

“You may not like me, but your pussy sure does,” he states matter of fact before pressing two fingers into you and the moan you let out should be humiliating. You want to say something, anything to debunk this confidence he now has, but the feeling of his fingers stops you. He studies you like a mysterious object as he continues to pump into you, enjoying how desperate you are for him and how perfect you feel clenching around his fingers. He discovers you make the cutest pouty face when his thumb brushes across your clit but he doesn’t want this to end just yet. 

“Okay shit, faster,” you whine, hand slapping against the window for some stability when his lips find your neck. You’re certain he’ll leave a hickey and that will be impossible to explain, but it wasn’t of concern at the moment. 

“I want to take my time with you Sweetheart,” he says against your neck before kissing down your chest. The low cut of your shirt had provided good cleavage for some attention at the party tonight but Kevin’s chin catches the neckline and drags it down further as his lips press kisses between your breasts. Wanting to feel like you have some control, your hand not keeping stability reaches and tugs the neckline further down. Slowly you reveal your bra and then you tug one of the cups down, baring yourself to the boy. Your nipple peaks in the cold night air and he takes this as an invitation to reveal your other breast. 

“Who’s at a loss for words now?” you ask and he just shakes his head at you before moving to kiss each one. It’s intimate and gentle, much different from how he normally treated you. Yet it doesn’t last very long because when he pushes a third finger into you he latches onto a nipple and you’re a moaning mess all over again. His thumb finds your clit again, this time relentless and he offers every sensation possible. Without being able to stop yourself, your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. He continues to fuck you through it, the sound off his fingers pumping in you dirty in the quiet cab of the car. 

“Good girl,” he praises when your body finally stops trembling. When he pulls his fingers out he rewards you with a soft kiss to the lips and you hate how it makes something flutter in your chest. 

You’re out of breath and a little dazed as he settles himself back into the driver's seat. You notice how his hair has fallen into his eyes and his chest rises heavily with each breath. The sight of you would shock anyone but he had the tent in his pants to match. When he pushes his hair back out of his face you find yourself leaning over and grabbing the button of his jeans. 

“Woah, you don’t have to,” he says quickly, getting painfully harder as you crawl onto your knees in the front seat. Your tits dangle out of your shirt still and your ass is in perfect view of anyone who could go by the window. Yet you’re determined to free his cock from his jeans. 

“It’s your turn to shut up Pickford,” you say before tugging his pants. He helps you push them off his hips and suddenly his cock is free. Angry and red, springing against his pelvis and it makes your mouth water. Of course he would have a pretty dick too. 

Slowly you wrap your hands around his shaft, smirking at the way he shifts at your touch. He’s so needy but you don’t have it in you to tease. You suck his tip into your mouth quickly and he lets out a moan of defeat. You take your time sliding further and further down, tongue tracing along the vein under his cock. One of his hands tangles into your hand and the other grips the door, grounding himself in this moment and trying not to finish when you just got started. 

“You’re a lot less sassier when you have my dick in your mouth,” Pickford groans and you speed up, determined to make him finish and eat his words. It should be dangerous this little relationship you have now. Hating his guts but also wanting him buried in yours. 

You take him as deep as you can, letting your spit and tears run down your face and his cock with no remorse. Where your lips don’t meet you use your hands and the way his legs twitch gives away that he’s close. The hand that was once in your hair travels around your back and to the curve of your ass. His cock jumps in your throat and it should be a curse how attracted you both are to each other just to despise each other any other time. Taking him even deeper than before he reaches his end, ropes of cum filling your mouth and you swallow it all as best you can. 

When you pull away, you’re a mess, and you don’t even have to check to know it. Kevin just chuckles as he eyes your mascara stained cheeks and ruffled hair from his hands on your head. You roll your eyes and tuck your boobs back into your bra and shirt. He watches as you pull your pants back up over your hips and button them close. Finding napkins in his dash box, you do anything you can in the visor mirror to fix your appearance. 

“You’re a mess Sweetheart,” he states and you sigh as you accept your messy hair for what it is. Hopefully all of your friends were either too high or drunk to notice your swollen lips and tugged hair. 

“Put your dick away, Pickford. I’m getting a drink,” and just like that you leave him in the car, shocked and a little impressed. He had fun plans to torture you the rest of the night but even better ones including fucking you until you couldn’t walk. Maybe you both could get used to this new arrangement you have. 

“What a dirty bitch.”

[quickestgold]

You’re my fav jack abbott writer please never stop you’re fueling me rn

This is soooo lovely, thank you soo much!! 😭💖😭

Working on a couple of requests atm hehe, but I’m still shook from last night’s ep!! The Jack girlies were Fed!!