đalways! open to receiving requests or hearing whatâs on ur mind
đfav movies âą breakfast at tiffanyâs, alice in wonderland (1951), bones and all, priscilla, midsommar, bottoms, jenniferâs body, sucker punch, the sweet east, possession
đïžletterboxd âą smartsexylacy
đfav shows âą teen wolf, yellowjackets, the vampire diaries, the oc, the walking dead, euphoria
18+ ⫶ MR. FAUX SYMPATHY â requested
jack abbot who fakes sympathy while cooing you through overstimulation .
you donât know which one is worse. the way jackâs hips are angled with the cruelest precision, the head of his dick charging sweet into that soft, spongy wall inside of you â bullying that poor spot until your toes are curling over by overwhelming pleasure.
or the way each word falling from his lips feeds you nothing but sweet praises laced in such a condescending manner, feigning compassion while milking every ounce of pleasure from your overstimulated cunt.
either way, your answer wouldnât matter. not when abbotâs screwing every fathomable thought loose outside of your head, turning you into a blubbering mess underneath him.
âmmghâ pl-please, jâ!â you slurred stammering, swallowing the saliva pooled at the back of your throat from your never ending moaning. the soft pads of your hands push against his sculpted chest, attempting to flee from the merciless thrusts of his hips as you push from underneath him.
âawn- câmon, sweetheart.â his eyes dragged over you body, taking in the very few millimeters of space that you created between you two before pulling you back down onto cock making you gasp for air.
your fingers folding inwards, clawing into the flesh of jackâs chest as he buries himself further inside your pussy making your insides choke around his length, involuntarily twitching and squeezing as your spine arches forward â pressing yourself against him.
jack feigns a frown, biting back an uncontrollable smile because he just thinks that you look so fucking adorable beneath him right now.
eyes glossed over with lashes clumping together from those thick tears fall down your cheeks, and the little sniffles you take every other second to not snot yourself as you cry from an indescribable amount of pleasure. you canât even moan jackâs name without it turning into an incoherent mess. âjâj .. ja-nnghn.â
âthatâs it, my sweet girl.â jack coos, a gentle rasps scratching at his throat as he brings one of the hands locked behind you knees to your face. gently cradling the side of your head as his thumb brushes away any stray tears. âso damn sensitive, all for me.â he watches you nuzzle into his palm, and it makes his cock twitch as he lets out a gravelly groan before grinding his hips deeper into you â a direct target against the spot that makes your bladder feel instantly full.
âi canât, i canât, mmffâ you c-canât!â you yelp, pleading as you shake your head feeling the throb of your clit want to burst. âshh.. yes you can, darlinâ.â he shushes, ducking down to press his forehead against yours.
his eyes on yours, convincing you that itâs possible as his thrusts never stop bullying into that sweet spot. he has no intention of stopping, even with your begging. âplease, jaâmphck!â a moan rips through your throat as jack delivers the cruelest, toe curling stroke that makes you go completely mute as your eyes roll back to your skull.
your body quivers under his, mouth open with no words coming out as you take each and every thrust he feeds your abused pussy.
âlook at you, babyâ youâre doinâ it right now.â he hums satisfyingly, watching you choke to find inaudible words as his groan lingers. âi know, sweetheart i knowâ jj knows itâs a lot for you, yeah.â he whispers, lips grazing against yours, âitâll all be over soon, okay baby?â he assures, as his hips tell the complete opposite. âjust keep singinâ my name wouldâyaâ.â
content <đ .á 18+, mention of a panic attack & arguing, drug use, unprotected sex, talks of unplanned pregnancy, dirty talk, dubcon, pet names, messy sex, creampies.
the first timeâ
bobby recovers from his panic attack faster than you expect.
he was pacing, telling you to shut up as you tried your best to reason with him after his fuck up. he was nearly yanking his hair out at one point ⊠all that just to find himself sitting at the end of the bed, rolling a joint in nothing but his boxers. you watch his fingers work, your heart hammers in your chest as your eyes move from his hands and up his arms to his faceâ focused and relaxed all at once, with his dirty blonde hair falling over his brows. he shouldnât be allowed to look this good. not after almost knocking you up and being a bitch about it.
youâre laid out, still puffing out little breaths from both your orgasm and your argument. adorned in nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of socks, and the pout that you havenât been able to shake.
ânow youâre too calm.â you mumble as you nudge his side with a cotton clad foot like a gentle form of revenge after the emotional damage he caused, just by thinking with his dick.
âwhatever. worst case iâll scrape up some cash and get you one of those pills. you know i got you.â he murmurs in return, not bothering to look over his shoulder. heâll get hard again if he does, heâs learned his lesson. a part of him is more focused on smoking and easing whatâs left of his fried nerves. a smirk pulls at his lips, âsuper worst case ⊠you pop out a baby in nine months, we have to quit our dreams and i get an office job. all that nuclear family shit we hate.â
you throw a pillow at the back of his head with all of your fucked out might. you watch him dodge it, and then his tongue peeks past his lips to seal his roll one last time. your eyes follow the dragging movement faithfully as you mutter, your irritation running deepâ âyouâre not funny, like not even a little bit.â
one hand grabs your ankle and pulls enough to make you yelp, while the other reaches for a lighter off the nightstand. the joint sits between his lips as he lights it, inhaling deeply before offering it up to you.
âjust shut up and hit this.â
the secondâ no, actually ⊠the third timeâ
bobby doesnât seem to care anymore.
heâs terrible at this, heâs admitted it every single time you whine at him and try to stop it from happening, before it becomes an even bigger habit. you can only get lucky so many times. something is bound to take. but he shushes you when you start whimpering for him to pull out, distracting you with sloppy kisses and sweet rubs on your clit that have your brain all fuzzy and useless for the moment. something to keep you on the edge and close to cumming yet again.
âbobby, you cant keep doing this,â you whimper into his mouth just as he presses his hands into the backs of your thighs and spreads you out some more. a sign that heâs about to lose control. you can feel every inch of him, can hear every lewd sound that comes from between your thighs and every deep groan falling past his lips. he nuzzles his face into the side of your own, ignoring your hiccuping and babbling entirely. youâre trying so hard to get him to listen with your slurred and breathy words, it almost makes him feel bad, âyou have tâpull out.â
âbaby, babyâ donât make me.â he chokes out, sweaty forehead resting against your temple as he triples his efforts. he ruts into you as he rambles, sloppy but practiced enough to have your toes curling and your brain liquifying in your skull, âi fuckinâ canât. i canât do it. you feel so fuckinâ good, baby ⊠gotta stay right here in this perfect pussy.â
he knows heâs got you the second your nails claw over his shoulders and down his back with no intent other than begging him for more. the sharp sting forces a growl out of his throat before he muffles himself with your mouth, his tongue rubbing against your own as he spills his messy load in you with stuttering movements.
âfuuuckââ he breathes over your lips that are covered in a mix of his saliva and your own, nearly whining as the aftershocks take over and bite at his heels. he grunts, pressing into you like his life depends on it. his gaze drops between your thighs, seeing a mess of white that makes him shudder, âiâll clean you up after, baby, i swear. jusâ let me have this, pretty girl. give me a second. please.â
you huff under him, mewling as your used up cunt milks him without trying. like itâs second nature, devastatingly.
hi okay just read your little fic for what bobby's into and i had thoughts on one...
you said he likes being mean and condescending in bed, but how far would he take it? like if hes a little extra mean one night and his girl starts crying, does he take a step back or does he just like it even more?
content <đ .á 18+, dacryphilia, overstim.
bobby would never, ever take it that far. it would be difficult for him even if itâs something you really wanted. it could be done, though.
because truly the most he wants out of you is a little pout, a tiny sniffle, or teary eyes that he can remedy within the following seconds with some more touches and kisses. sure, he runs his mouth enough for the two of you. he calls you messy and points out that youâre adorably pathetic when youâre needy and so, so dirty for him. but he immediately soothes the ache his words leave behind in your chest by making your back bow off of the bed and a pleasure drunk gasp expand your lungs, with a roll of his hips and one warm hand smoothing down your tummy.
however âŠ
if and when you do end up with hot tears running down your cheeks, accompanied by stuttered breaths and hiccupy sounds falling from your lipsâ bobbyâs whole face twists up. a mix of pain from seeing you in distress and pride because he brought you to this point with how good he can make you feel alone. itâs precious to him, itâs perfect, and it fucks with his heart.
he sighs, a calculated breath thatâs all soft and reverent and too sure of himself for a guy that makes weed jokes and loses his keys every single day. he holds you close but whatever heâs doing that has you in hysterics doesnât stop. whether he has you folded in half under him or one hand stuffed in your panties, heâs not stopping. not when youâre so pretty and absolutely gone.
his lips press against your warm cheek with kisses so sweet that they might as well be sugared, not minding the wetness as he makes his way to your pouty mouth.
âbet youâre all embarrassed now, huh?â he croons. heâs not mocking you, you can tell the difference. instead heâs gently asking. heâs showing that he cares, all while searching your eyes for any bit of true discomfort.
âthereâs no need to be, i promise. i love making you feel good. you can be a crybaby for me anytime, pretty girl. especially like this.â
Heâs literally so annoying but heâs super sweet and that makes up for all his brattiness. You help him with film projects, he smokes with you, he always has snacks for you, but heâs soo mean! Like heâll hide around corners to scare you just to watch you jump and squeal. He absolutely laughs in your face when you hit and lecture him for being the way he is.
Hdâs also the touchiest and most clingy person when heâs high. He always apologizes and teases you for getting shy, but heâs still trying to convince you that high orgasms are the best while you shyly giggle and squirm ! Ë°đ·àŒ
18+ mdni thinking about jack abott and his sweet girl who gets distracted during sex n can have trouble finishingâŠ
he can see when youâre into itâ meeting his eye, smiling, responding to his words with sweet whimpers n hushed whispers as he fucks you⊠but then he can see when your head goes elsewhere. your eyes glaze over a bit and drift to the ceiling, you stop grinding down to meet his thrusts.
His hand comes up to cup your face in an attempt to draw you back, and you turn your face to kiss his palm, but he knows itâs just an absentminded reflex.
âHey.â Jack urges, voice a low rasp. âHey, doll. Look at me.â He smiles gently when you finally meet his eye with a small one of your own. âWhereâd you go, pretty girl? Gotta stay with me.â
âSorry,â you murmur, all breathy as Jackâs hips snap forward n his cock kisses your cervix. âJust thinking.â
Jack shakes his head, light and easy and hardly a reprimand. âYouâve got all the time in the world to think, sweetheart. I need you to focus right now, can you do that for me?â
You nod.
âFeel this?â He rolls his hips again, slow and deep. âFeel how full you are?â
You nod again, and this time your brows furrow n your face scrunches in pleasure as you fully find your way back to the present.
âYeah. Attagirl. Feels nice, doesnât it?â
âYes,â You breathe out. You let your back arch, rutting down against Jack to chase that build-up you need. He nods encouragingly.
âThere you go. Youâre doing such a good job.â Jackâs hand moves low between your bodies. He finds your clit, rolls it between the pads of his index and middle fingers.
He smirks when you moan and tremble. He knows youâre getting there, but also knows that you could just as easily lose it again. So he keeps talking.
âSuch a good girl for me. Look how fuckinâ perfect you are.â He presses a kiss to your cheek, then your neck, then he connects his lips to yours and lets his tongue sweep inside, swallowing your next moan. Heâs panting softly when he pulls away.
His fingers speed up just a bit when he can tell that you need more. He nods, urging you along when your hands come up to grip his shoulders and you look at him with desperate eyes. He keeps the encouragement flowing freely. âGood girl. Come on, you can do it. I feel you getting close, babydoll. Youâre doing so well. I wanna feel you to cum on my cock.â
Your brows knit in concentration and you writhe on the bed, trying to move the right way and find the right angles to finally send yourself over the edge.
When it works you tighten up everywhereâ your fingers dig into the freckled flesh of Jackâs shoulders, your body goes rigid, your mouth slackens in a long, airy moan. Jack groans lowly at the feeling of your walls clenching up around him, pulling his cock in deep.
âGoood girl.â Jack grits out. His hips stutter as he diligently fucks you through your orgasm. âYouâre so good, honey. Fuck.â His forehead falls against yours, sweaty gray curls pressing against your hairline and lust-blown eyes mere inches from your own. âThat never gets fucking old.â
thinking about sitting on jack abbotâs thigh, lazily rolling your hips and leaning into his chest, just enough for stimulation but not enough to actually get anywhere.
jackâs wearing his dumb cargo pants, his work phone shoved in the pocket youâre currently sitting on. you learn rather quickly that jack (the old man he is) has his phone set to vibrate. you also learn that someone is very intent on getting a hold of him.
jack realizes his phone is trapped under you, undulating and grinding into the new sensation. grins when he discovers, yes, you are wanton enough to treat his vibrating phone like a pseudo sex toy, grinding harder every time a call or text comes through.
âi should probably get that.â he murmurs, not actually making any effort to dislodge you from his thigh. you just double down, arms around his neck, pussy directly on his dumb cargo pants that you hate so much, clit catching on the rough fabric and the corner of his phone, chasing the periodic vibrations.
âgonna let me get that baby?â he teases, grabbing your hips to lift you up. you retaliate by sinking your teeth into his shoulder, fighting his grip to get your wet cunt back on his thigh.
âoh, sheâs feral today,â he comments, smacking your ass once in response to the bite - jack knows itâs gonna leave a mark.
you donât even react, focused on wiggling your way back down onto his thigh and phone, which is still vibrating through his pants. you were so close, and jack is being so mean, making you hover over the embarrassingly large wet spot you left behind.
âyouâre gonna water log my phone,â jack notes, following your eyes to the wet patch. âgonna have to stick it in rice after this. how am i gonna explain to IT that my work phone is broken? tell them itâs because i have a very demanding little girl at home with the worldâs wettest cunt? and that she sat on my phone like a little slut, using the vibrations to get off?â jack paused, grinning at the long whine you made, embarrassed and turned on by the idea, hips still wiggling. âis that what iâm gonna have to tell them?â
you donât respond, mainly because youâre not sure if you can form words at this point, and finally win the war against his grip to drop back down to his thigh, cunt once again pressed hard onto the cargo pocket. you immediately start humping, only further proving jackâs point. you donât care - youâre so close.
jack leans forward, stubble brushing your ear as he growls, âmaybe i should make you tell them. call them and apologize for ruining my phone with your wet, selfish cunt. what do you think about that?â
you come - embarrassingly hard, hips stuttering against him as you continue to soak his pants, vaguely aware that jack is cooing and encouraging you as you do so.
âatta girl, so easy for me. coming just from a few calls and texts from robby,â jack rubs your back, letting you collapse into his shoulder, bright with embarrassment and exhaustion.
after a couple of minutes, jack works his hand into his pocket, slowly removing his phone, making a point to wipe the sheen off on his shirt before checking it.
âhm. lucky girl. robby said they got a hold of shen,âjack tips your chin up so you look at him, stupid smirk on his face, âhe apologizes for all the calls.â
Whatâs so fun abt the character is that sheâs incredibly viciously independent (and this is a direct response to her traumatic childhood) and simultaneously she is desperately embarrassingly heartbreakingly dependent (and this is also a direct result of her traumatic childhood).
