Chapters: 8/?
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Frank Langdon/Dennis Whitaker
Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Frank Langdon, Trinity Santos, Dana Evans, Dennis has a twin sister (OC), Yolanda Garcia, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Divorced Frank Langdon, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Switch Frank Langdon, Eventual Smut, Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker, Misogyny, Sexism, Homophobia, Religious Guilt, Langdon’s Kids, Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker are Roommates, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, langtaker, GarSantos Situationship, Dennis Whitaker Has Daddy Issues, Post-Rehab Frank Langdon, Domestic Fluff, Frank Langdon Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, guilty sex, Soft Dom Dennis Whitaker, religious trauma, Bible references, Frank Wants To Be Better, huckledon, Stalker Dennis Whitaker, Slight OOC Dennis, Slight OOC Frank, READ NOTES
Summary:
Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker treats Frank Langdon’s kids after an accident leading the recently divorced dad of 2 to reconsider his isolation and loneliness for the better.
Or
Dennis Whitaker realizes he’s gay and has a huge thing for depressed, pathetic DILFS with a questionable past.
Chapters: 6/?
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Frank Langdon/Dennis Whitaker
Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Frank Langdon, Trinity Santos, Dana Evans, Dennis has a twin sister (OC), Yolanda Garcia, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dennis Whitaker Has Religious Trauma, Gay Dennis Whitaker, Bi Frank Langdon, Divorced Frank Langdon, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Switch Frank Langdon, Switch Dennis Whitaker, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker, Misogyny, Sexism, Homophobia, Emotional Abuse, Religious Guilt, Medical Inaccuracies, Langdon’s Kids, guilty sex at some point, Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker are Roommates, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Whump, langtaker, past mentions of child abuse, Frank Langdon is a Good Dad, Original Female Character/s (OC), GarSantos Situationship, pediatrician au, no beta we die like Louie, Dennis Whitaker Has Daddy Issues, Forced Proximity, Found Family, Soft Dom Frank Langdon, Protective Frank Langdon, Post-Rehab Frank Langdon, Frank Langdon is Down Bad, Bible Quotes
Summary:
Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker treats Frank Langdon’s children after an accident leading the recently divorced Langdon to reconsider his isolation and loneliness.
Or
Dennis Whitaker realizes he's gay and has a thing for depressingly pathetic, divorced DILFS with complicated pasts.
Chapters: 5/?
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Frank Langdon/Dennis Whitaker
Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Frank Langdon, Trinity Santos, Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Melissa "Mel" King, Dana Evans, Dennis has a twin sister (OC), Yolanda Garcia, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dennis Whitaker Has Religious Trauma, Gay Dennis Whitaker, Bi Frank Langdon, Divorced Frank Langdon, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Switch Frank Langdon, Switch Dennis Whitaker, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, I made up the name for Dennis’s Family, Frank is down bad and needs a healing, Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker, Misogyny, Sexism, Author is religious sorry (I know what I’m writing trust), Small age gap between Dennis and Frank, Homophobia, Emotional Abuse, Religious Guilt, More characters show up trust, Medical Inaccuracies, Langdon’s Kids, guilty sex at some point, Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker are Roommates, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Whump, langtaker, past mentions of child abuse, Frank Langdon is a Good Dad, Original Female Character/s (OC), GarSantos Situationship, pediatrician au, no beta we die like Louie, Dennis Whitaker Has Daddy Issues, Forced Proximity
Summary:
Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker treats Frank Langdon’s children after an accident leading the recently divorced Langdon to reconsider his isolation and loneliness.
Or
Dennis Whitaker realizes he's gay and has a thing for depressingly pathetic, divorced DILFS with complicated pasts.
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Frank Langdon/Dennis Whitaker
Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Frank Langdon, Trinity Santos, Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Melissa "Mel" King, Dana Evans, Dennis has a twin sister (OC), Yolanda Garcia, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dennis Whitaker Has Religious Trauma, Gay Dennis Whitaker, Bi Frank Langdon, Divorced Frank Langdon, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Switch Frank Langdon, Switch Dennis Whitaker, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Dennis has a twin sister I guess, I made up the name for Dennis’s Family, Frank is down bad and needs a healing, Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker, Lots of mentions of religion and church, Misogyny, Sexism, Author is religious sorry (I know what I’m writing trust), Small age gap between Dennis and Frank, Homophobia, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Religious Guilt, More characters show up trust, Medical Inaccuracies, Langdon’s Kids, guilty sex at some point, Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker are Roommates, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Summary:
Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker treats Frank Langdon’s children after an accident leading the recently divorced Langdon to reconsider his isolation and loneliness.
Shane catching you and Sam fucking in the Joja Mart Storage. At first, he's disgusted. At work, seriously? Have some decency. But as Sam pauses his thrusts, Shane decides fuck it, he doesn't get paid enough anyways.
This results in Shane pulling Sam out of you and taking his place from behind, groaning at the feeling of your sweet heat around him. He wastes no time in setting a steady pace, all while mocking Sam for how amateur he is. See how he's making you feel? How his hands pinch and twist your nipples, drawing such sweet sounds out of you? How his cock hits the perfect spot inside of you, making you squirm and clench around him?
Sam better get his act together. Otherwise, Shane just might take his place, and all he'll get is his sloppy seconds. Would that really be such a bad thing though?
Sam and Shane are my absolute favourite poly pair and I will die on this hill </3 I need to write a nice yummy fic for them-
Ty for inspiring me ♡♡ drabble ahead
Joja backroom endeavours with Sammy were always a little tricky.
His cock is thick, bullyingly so; With an impressive length to pair, Yoba its hard to take him easily sometimes.
You whine and keen, your pitiful sounds echoing around the back room, uncomfy with the chilly fridge air biting at your skin and the achy stretch of Sam's cock making an attempt at a quickie.
Of course Shane hears it- He always fucken' does. Those whimpery whines and huffy little begs for Sam to settle down, gasps and choked up hiccups chirped out with each rough fuck of the blonde’s hips.
Always so annoying- Sam being that dirty little exhibitionist that can't keep it wrapped up in his pants, practically dragging Shane into your shared shenanigans.
Of course, you can't blame him for it. For huffing a curse and barking a rough insult towards the blonde, curses dribbling off of his tongue while his lips twitch into an unimpressed scowl.
Look at how he has you.
Bent over a frosty box of product, pathetically clinging to the edges while Sam rails you from behind, large and long fingers twisted into your hair, purposely pressing your face into the cardboard. It's uninspiring if you ask Shane. No wonder you're struggling to take the younger man, heck, you're probably dryer than the fucken' Calico Desert. Boys and their eagerness, right? Skipping all the Prep to get to the goods.
You can't blame him for rolling his eyes and pulling Sam off by the scruff like a mutt, situating himself against your bare ass all while Sam watches with an obedient gulp.
Shane easily leans over you, soft tummy pressing into your back, all warm compared to the chilly fridge air. His hand soothes between your legs, two fingers easily slipping between the wet of your folds, circling that sweet bud of yours, smearing the growing mess of slick all over your cunt. He barks a soft grumble in your ear, filthy words shaming Sam, praising you for being so kind to even help the boy in the first place.
"Sucha' Good n' helpful girl aren'tcha? Hmm? Takin' that idiot all sweet like that-" His prickly jaw grazes the back of your neck, teasing at your ear causing a hot shiver to run down your spine. His thick fingers dare to sink into your supple hole, more than wet than before, practically drooling for the other man. "S'okay.. Gonan make you nice n' ready f'him.. Yeah?" Mockingly soft and yet laced in truth.
Poor Sammy has to watch from the side- See you take the fat of Shane's Cock, a little shorter but far thicker than his own, stretching the taught walls of your cunt wide. That paw of his finds itself cupping the supple mound of your cunt, wet fingers toying and circling the bud of your clit while his hips begin their rolling fucks.
Your sounds are something else- Less of a whining choke, strung along and keening, bottom lip bitten by your teeth stuck in a horny frown. Yoba, the gasp of your throat and roll of your eyes when Shane dares to manhandle you.
His other hand weasels its way between the valley of your breasts, palm laying flat to pull you in, forcing you to half stand while the older man snaps his hips in mean little fucks. He fiddles with your chest, groping and teasing, twisting your pert nipples between his fingers in tandem with the circling of your sticky clit.
You hold yourself up with your hands, back arched perfectly, taking Shane from behind, pushing yourself back into the girth of his cock. Sam can only stare, eyes coming in contact with Shane's, feeling blood rush to his cock with the quirk of the older man's eyebrow, with the insults he throws at the Blonde.
"Can only dream of takin' her like this hmm? Listen- Fuck.. Listen to her-" Was he talking about those moany chirps from your throat or the gush of your cunt- Yoba, Sam didn't care. Not when you looked so good like this.
Nor when you finally cream, stuttering a hiccup while your milky cunt finished Shane off, suckling the man until he spurt his last thick rope of cum into your cunt.
Sam should be embarrassed, beat red in the face for being so put down, feeble in the eyes of the older man- Unable to properly ready his girl and please you like he needed to- But how could he care?
boss makes a dollar, i make a dime, that's why i fuck on cumpany time
sam (stardew valley)/fem!reader | ao3
sneaking into joja warehouse to be with sam during his break… need i say more?
wc: 2.2k
cw: joja mart, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms (sam), praise kink, semi-public sex, creampie
18+ MDNI
the joja mart warehouse hasn’t always been a mess. sam always says there was a week when everything was in its place, and then he got hired so naturally all hell broke loose.
there’s a speaker in the far corner of the large room. static spills from it alongside some corny overplayed pop song, but sam’s mood can't be ruined by something as trivial. no, he's nursing a fat boner, has been since you sent him a sneaky selfie as you were getting dressed, not showing your face, but instead a delicious view of your cute bra and a very tasty underboob.
he’s counting down seconds until he can go on his lunch break, especially since you are supposed to join him. he will let you in through the staff entrance, just like many times before, and sneak you into the warehouse.
there's a nice, cozy space between two old shelving units where sam used to sit and read comic books, then sit and eat lunch, and then sit and jerk off to photos and videos you'd sent him, all starring your plump tits, your bouncy ass, those sweet, sweet wet folds that got parted by your gentle finger as you moaned out his name, telling the camera how much you missed him. he can never grow tired of hearing it, hearing the wet noises your pussy made when you'd stick your finger inside, the resolution of the video so high he would get tempted to lean in and lick the damn screen.
you don't send him videos anymore, not at work. since the back door camera got miraculously busted about a month ago, he’s been sneaking you in almost every day, taking you to that cozy space between the two old shelving units and fucking you senseless, right in between the crates of joja cola cans.
his alarm couldn’t go off any sooner, it barely rings when he already pushed the door to the warehouse open, sliding his key card through the reader and nearly started running towards the exit. you're already waiting there, sparkle in your eyes upon seeing him so damn excited. he takes a moment to look at you, to calm his speeding heart, to drink in your radiance.
fuck, if he wasn't so damn horny he would take you out for a picnic, sit down with you and hold your hand as you tell him about your day, as you listen to some music sharing his earphones, as you giggle and twirl in your sundress and tuck your hair behind your ear while he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek and another to the corner of your mouth, making sure to take off the dot of whipped cream you have there. but the press of his erection gets even more painful when he lays eyes on the little dress you're wearing. you're really not making things easier for him.
unceremoniously, he drags you inside, already kissing you before even shutting the door fully, holding your waist with one hand while the other cups your cheek, lips attaching to yours desperately like you're his personal oxygen mask. he's obsessed with the way you always find a way to giggle into the kiss, the corners of your lips tugging while he desperately tries to hold on, drink in your every sound, drowning out the static overlaying another shitty pop song dripping through the stupid speaker in the corner.
the sound of you fills his chest, his ears, his head. his cock twitches in his boxers and sam bucks his hips towards you as your back meets the shelving unit. quickly, with practiced movements he picks you up and sets you onto the appropriate shelf, positioned to be perfectly level with his hips.
how funny, you once said, it's clearly meant to be. yeah, meant to be because sam had lifted the fucker and stuck a big chunk of wood under all four posts, making sure they're identical, making sure everything is stable and the height is perfect for when he grows a pair and throws a rock at the security camera outside the door. now it's your spot, he can't imagine anything else being on that shelf that isn't your ass, your perfect body being fucked by him for as long as he can handle at breaks.
with one quick motion he lifts your dress, uncovering a cute, heart themed pair of panties. sam slides his hand under the elastic and tugs them off, instinctively pushing them into the pocket of his uniform for later. now your sweet little dripping cunt is right there for him to see. with an almost whiny groan, he looks down at your pussy and back at your face, seeing the redness spread over your cheeks like every time he exhibits feral behavior.
by this point he thought you'd get used to it, but each day carries a new way he surprises you, making you shy with the way he devours you with his eyes.
while he leans his forehead against yours, grounding himself in the moment, you work your way through the zipper of his uniform, following it with his boxers, now half-way down his thighs as that girthy, unfairly big cock springs out and slaps against his abdomen. already twitching and leaking, he guides it to your soft opening, parting your thighs while he kisses your lips once again, murmuring sweet little pleas in between kisses, holding the back of your head with one hand.
your arms wrap around his neck, he's almost in, almost. sam nearly folds as soon as your warmth sucks in his tip, he nearly finishes right then and there, making for a very short lunch break. it's alright, he's alright, you keep reminding him. your voice breaks him out of the spiral he's got himself into, and instead makes him focus. he pushes into you a little further, eliciting a strangled moan from his own throat and a lewd, sultry one from yours.
yoba's soggy underwear, how are you always so damn sexy?! here he is, trying not to be a one-stroke-wonder even though you've fucked nearly every day since getting together, surely he should be used to it by now. and you're a damn goddess with your plump thighs, sugary moans, and a warm cunt just begging to be fucked. bottoming out, he throws his head back and groans, already twitching with stimulation while you lean in and pepper little warm kisses over his neck.
“thaaat's it,” you drawl, feeling him relax against you, slumping his head now against your shoulder as he moves his large hands to your thighs, “suuuuch a good boy, sam.”
it's those two words, good boy, that make him so damn needy whenever you utter them. they drag a whimper out of his throat every time without fail. his hips push against yours despite being all the way in, he wants to give you everything and more . the slow strokes of his cock dragging in and out of you pull the same little noises from your throat as they do from his, your lips seek out his, exchanging sounds and breaths before connecting into a sweet kiss.
it’s one of those times, when he’s pent up but wants to prolong it as much as he can. wants to spend the whole break just feeling you around him. and how good he was at it, kneading your thighs with those nimble fingers, calloused fingertips digging into your flesh as he pulls back and pushes forward, his curses slipping in between your juicy lips, the moment before he’s silenced once more by your little moan. he slides along your silken walls so slowly, dragging out every movement to feel you better, to enjoy every inch of you as you tighten and relax around his cock.
“a- ahhh that’s s’ good babe, mmmphhh please…” he groans into your mouth, as slow strokes of his hips, guided by your ankles locked behind his back, make you moan so sweetly, sweeter than the maple bars he loves so much.
“right th- oh right there, baby… so good–”
“a-again please…” he begs, needs to hear you tell him how it feels.
he’s losing his damn mind, it’s leaving him in the breaths that mingle with yours, leaving in the press of the tip of his cock against your spongy sweet spot, the one that makes you tighten around his shaft, suffocating him and making him dizzy. he loses track of how many times he’s pushed his twitching length inside you, loses the number of times you’ve made his head spin with your sweet little comments.
“that’s m-my good boy, oh i’d do anything f-for you baby…” you purr into his mouth, capturing his gentle lips in another wet, sloppy kiss as your soaked pussy swallows him again. again, again , until he cums the first time.
he barely acknowledges it with his body, continuing with the slow pace, only pausing for a moment longer once his balls are pressed against your wet cunt. sam keeps kissing you, his teeth grip onto your bottom lip and tug, moaning in time with you, digging his fingers deeper into your flesh.
“sweet… sweet boy…” words drip like honey from your tongue and he catches them, tongue scooping them back into your mouth, torn between letting you praise him and licking into your mouth. “s-so good to me, m- mmph sam.. feel s’ good, g- ah good boy–”
sam whines, feeling his hips stutter every time you say those words, but he doesn’t speed up, he drags his strokes out even longer, even lazier.
“m-more,” he whispers, licking your bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it, “more, tell me… tell me more, please .” the last word is barely a breath as he lets go of your thighs, instead cupping your face and holding it still as he grinds his hips against yours.
“m- mmmph w-why, you wanna–” your words are stolen out of your mouth, he’s dragging his tongue against yours just like he drags his cock along your walls, “–wanna hear how sweet you are, hmm?”
he hums, tilting your head up so he can kiss along your jaw, nipping the skin as he makes his way to the sensitive spot under your ear. pressing his tongue against it and flicking it against your earlobe, he lets out a barely stifled moan directly into your ear. your walls instantly close up, squeezing him so tightly that he needs to pause, taking quick, desperate breaths as he tries to stay somewhat alert until you relax and let go.
“babe… babe please– oh fuck .” he feels himself rush over the edge and, as soon as he starts moving, he cums, slowly feeling it drip out of his sensitive tip while he resumes that slow, languid pace.
second load already behind you, he whimpers into your ear, holding onto a thread of sanity as his lips trace the shape of your ear, pleading with you to… anything. to have mercy on him, to stop being so damn perfect, to curse him, praise him, kiss him. to take all of his cum and keep it nice and warm inside you as he glides in and out of you. his words turn incoherent, a blabbering mess of noises as his hips stutter again and he tenses, holding your face a little tighter and bringing his lips to yours again. he nearly sucks out the breath from your lungs, snapping his hips a little harder, getting desperate for one more release.
“saaaam–” you drawl again, higher in pitch as his hip bones dig into your soft thighs with harder thrusts.
“ sam, your break has been over for two minutes, return back to work. ” the speaker sounds, breaking up words with static, but the message is clear.
“n-no… look at me,” you bring a hand to the side of his face and tilt it towards you, “at me, sam. mmm that’s good,” he zeroes in on the glossiness of your eyes, on the dilated pupils that drink in his blushed face and the sweat on his forehead, “be m-my good boy, y-yeah?”
it’s enough for him, sam nods like an obedient little thing and snaps his hips a few more times, taking you to another dimension before spilling his cum inside you one last time, stilling completely as he takes a few more sloppy kisses from your lips, slowly pulling out with your shaky legs spreading to let him look at the result. the sweetest sight he’s ever laid his eyes on, dripping sticky liquid on your shelf, the flowy sundress making you look sweeter than ice cream on a hot summer’s day.
“go,” you sigh, looking up at the malfunctioning speaker, “i’ll clean up and meet you outside when you fin–” you chuckle, quickly changing your choice of words, “when your shift’s done.”
sam groans, reluctantly pulling his boxers and pants back up and leaning in for another quick kiss and a glance down at your dripping cunt.
“love you babe.” he shoots that sweet smile at you before turning and dragging himself back into the store, leaving you to clean yourself up with joja branded wet wipes. before slipping out through the back door, you chuckle as you feel the air on your naked pussy, thinking about the pink heart pair of panties stuffed into sam’s pocket.
its not that viktor didn’t want to devour you. take you in the almost impossible positions he’d widen his eyes at reading about when he got bored in the library, attempting to anatomically sketch it out on a napkin to visualize how it would work hastily before anyone came in and caught him flipping through an erotic novel. and he would, through the pain, it would be so worth it— if not for your gentle consideration. the one thing sexier than your dazed face looking up at him, all heated cheeks and hooded eyes, was how perceptive you were— how well you knew him, how well you saw him. you were attuned to him now, an invisible string between you. a phenomenon he could never sit down and wrap his big head around, just how connected the two of you had become that you barely needed words to communicate sometimes. like, for example, an abrupt whine sneakily covered by the clearing of his throat.
you were both excited and apprehensive when he brought up wanting to be on top tonight. you knew he would be putting pressure on his bad leg and of course you brought it up, but the way his voice dipped in velvet and wrapped around you, the lyrical lilt in his accent becoming hushed and deeper as he detailed how he wanted you under him, he wanted to take you, claim you, devour you with no inhibitions. his silver tongue won against your worried left brain, twice technically, until you heard it— the slightest change of rhythm in the strum of your little connective string.
“viktor?” you lifted your head. “what was that?”
he took a deep breath and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “nothing, darling.” he punctuated his assurance was a distracting suckle on your skin. and god, you almost gave in again, almost, but you gently tilted his head up and looked into his darkened eyes. “didn’t sound like nothing.”
damn you and your perceptive skills. he loves them so much.
another deep breath leaves him, and before he could wave it off, you press him. “it’s your leg, isn’t it?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and he can’t lie to you.
“yes.” he breathed in surrender. “i’m sorry, my love i really wanted to-what are you doing?” he frowned, watching you roll out from under him and grab one of the pillows on his bed.
“armchair, now.” you pointed to the chair across the room, with the plush ottoman in front of it that you gifted him. he couldn’t help but let a smirk pull at the corners of his mouth.
“bossy.” yet, he obeyed and made his way over to you. you gave him the pillow, instructing him to put it under his hip as he sat down, making sure his leg was elevated on the ottoman. once you got him all situated, you didn’t even have time to ask if it felt better before he was grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you like a man starved. you melted into his touch, straddling him but careful not to apply too much pressure. “so fucking sweet.” he pants the praise huskily into your mouth. “too good to me.”
his hands traveled down your body to grip your hips, pulling you flush to him. you started grinding slowly, and he guided you, a shaky breath leaving your mouth before you even got to the main event. every noise from your mouth caused a shiver to run down his spine, striking him with irrational need— he didn’t care that the things he wanted to do to you would make him scream in pain, he felt that he would simply die if he couldn’t fuck you the way he pictured it in his head right now.
but then he looks at you, just as dazed and hungry on top of him as you were under him, and a smile creeps up on him. it doesn’t matter if he were to throw you down and ravage you like a love interest in those books, or if you were softly bouncing on his length, burying your little sighs and whimpers into the crook of his neck, he’s still pleasing you. he’s still enough for you. he exhaled a smirk.
“none of that, darling.” he lifted your jaw to meet his eyes. “wanna see you and hear you. can you do that for me?” you nodded, struggling to keep your head up in the throes of pleasure, but having no trouble letting your mouth run wild with curses and praises and whines and whimpers. and it was all music to his ears. “that’s it, sweet girl.” his voice came ragged as he reached his long fingers to press on your clit. you all but screamed, tugging gently on the curls of the nape of his neck. he whined and threw his head back.
“am i hurting you?” you asked hoarsely, your hand hovering over his hair. he shook his head adamantly, taking your head and tangling it back in his hair himself. each thrust would earn a tug, and each tug would earn a pretty noise from him, causing another push to each of your edges.
“love you….” he whispered against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss against it as you both reached your peaks, breathing heavily against each other. “love you so much.”
viktor is eager, hungry, his fingers bruising your thighs and tongue lapping between your folds heavily. his dark eyes are shut and small moans slip past his lips and straight into your cunt as he eats it — so pleased as if he were the one receiving mind-blowing head himself.
your toes curl atop the soft duvet and your fingers grasp at the hair at the back of his head, holding him in place as you rut your sloppy pussy against his tongue.
“taste so sweet,” viktor pants out, accent rolling heavy off of his tongue and voice slurred with what could only be described as fucked-out euphoria. “‘s so sweet, mama.”
“yeah, baby? you like the way my pussy t-tastes?” you coo, clit sliding against the tip of viktor’s nose with each upward buck of your hips. you’re making a complete mess of him, soaking his face and mouth with your slick, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“fuck, yes, love it s’much,” viktor slurs, tongue teasing at your entrance with gentle prods. it’s thick and hot, reminding you faintly of the monster tucked away in his pants, and you can’t help the small whine that rips from your throat.
“shit, vik, that’s it,” you gasp out, gut twisting from the sound of his fucked-out slurring and submission; he eats you almost thankfully, as if the mere act of doing so is a gift from the gods themselves. it’s enough to push you right to the edge. “make me cum, baby.”
and fuck, he does. viktor lets you hump his face and laps at your pussy in tandem, driving you straight up the wall and into an intense orgasm — and he sucks down your cum like it’s the sweetest nectar, moaning and whining as he does so.
viktor is so drunk on your taste that even when you pry helplessly at his head he stays nestled between your legs, tongue and lips caressing your swollen, throbbing clit, begging you, “jus’ one more, mama, please…”
so, piper may be hopping on the servicesub!vik train… 🌝
