Jack Dawkins One Shots

How Can I Be Blamed?

Jack greatly enjoyed his day. He had spent his day up in the apartment above the surgery, The curtains drawn and lights down low as if the outside world didn't exist. He made sure to silence all alarms and spend as long in his bed as his body required. Which turned out to be sixteen hours, but after the long LONG month without much of a break, it did make sense. When he finally crawled from his bed like a frightened possum, He did a few chores he'd been meaning to do. And to finish his relaxation he had a hot steamy bubble bath, paired with a very relaxing wank. The most perfect start to his weekend off. But he knew his roommate would return from her shift soon, so he stood, singing softly as he worked with the popcorn machine. Still Only wearing his faded grey boxers and a blue t-shirt.

Unexpectedly, Y/n arrived back a little earlier than he expected!

Y/n walked into the apartment, still in her pale blue scrubs, with her hair in a patted top bun. A giant cup of iced coffee in one and her long lanyard of keys in the other. Her makeup up long since faded and the tired circles around her eyes were obvious. The coffee and keys are both tinkling as she walks in the door.

Jack immediately panics, knowing she will kick his arse if she sees him half-naked in the kitchen again. So without actually using his surgeon's brain, he just ducks to the floor hiding behind the kitchen island hoping she'd walk past and not notice him in her tired state.

But of course, even in her current state, Y/n saw him, letting out a low and deep sigh. Too exhausted and angry to deal with Jack's brand of chaos. She dropped her keys in the bowl beside the door and glared in his direction. "Jack. Dawkins. I swear. To. God. I am going to give you five seconds. I am going to close my eyes. And when I open them, if you do NOT have pants on I WILL. Sugrialy replace your cock with something horrific and unusual."

Jack poked his head up over the countertop, "Do I get to choose what it's replaced with? Like...A robot Cock?"

"No!" She yelled,

Which made him hide again, "I do have pants on!"

"Trousers. Not just boxers. You british Bastard."

Jack snickered as he got to his feet and leant on the counter, "Clothes are covering my important parts, it's fine."

Y/n rolled her eyes and set her coffee on the counter, "How many times have I told you, if you are gonna be in the kitchen? Please wear more than just your underpants."

"Ohh Come on, It's not the first time you've seen me in my boxers." He laughed, "In fact... I remember not so long ago, you were very impressed by the sight of me in my boxers?"

"One time!" She snapped, "I said your underwear looked nice, They had foxes on them, they were cute!" she argued as she walked to her bedroom, She left the bedroom door open as she stripped off her scrubs wandering her room in her white bra and panties.

Jack couldn't help himself, he leant on the kitchen counter, crossed his arms over his chest and bit his bottom lip leaning his head a little to ensure he got a good view, watching her arse cheeks jiggle as she walks. He released his lip and spoke up not wanting to make it obvious he was staring by his silence, "So? How was work?" He asked chewing on the inside of his cheek keeping his eyes glued to her form.

"Fine," she sighed, "McGregor was being an old fool, Sneed was being a perv, And Hetty is mad at you again." Y/n tossed off her bra as she spoke,

"Ummm..." Jack groaned, only seeing her bare back but that was enough for him, his boxers already straining against his hardening cock, "She's always mad at me..."

Y/n threw on a long shapeless Aline knee-length dress just to cover her up before she came out of her bedroom and collapsed down on the couch, "Apparently you forgot to fill in your reports before you clocked out for your time off. So she said she's gonna kick your arse when you get back."