khloe

19 , she/her ; 18+

[franklangonswhore]

⠀︵⠀masterlist ⠀◌Ⳋ𝅄 requests

the pitt:

taglist (soon) ·  Happy Day Off! : J.A ·  Wrong Coffee : R.R

criminal minds:

coming soon . . .

greys anatomy:

coming soon . . .

9-1-1

coming soon . . .

[iheartshawn]

ugghhhhhhh. . . i would probably struggle just taking one finger alone they're just so freakin thick and FAT ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

[societyfolklore]

Open Up Baby

Title: Open Up Baby Pairing: Tony Stark  x Female Reader

Summary: Tony Stark straps you into a StarkTech-compatible bench for a private demonstration of his newest toys- complete with biometric feedback,

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, SMUT… BDSM/Restraints/Bondage, custom tech ball gag, toys (Egg vibe, anal beads, dildo)  Overstimulation, Toy fucking/Machine-assisted thrusting, Filthy talk (Tony can't shut up), AI assists with data tracking, clinical observation, forced openness, Sensory overload

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for April Kinky Bingo… Well this one turned into a whole thing.. Square: B2- Open Up Baby  Card Number: KB003

You were already strapped to the bench- back arched, thighs spread wide in glossy chrome stirrups, wrists bound snug in Stark-grade cuffs that didn’t budge an inch. The synthetic leather beneath you was cool against your skin, but your body was already starting to heat with anticipation. The bench itself shifted slightly with every movement, like it was reading your tension, calibrating every twitch of your muscles into data Tony could access later.

You could hear the soft hum of the room’s ambient systems, the low mechanical whirrs, the faint electric pulse of tech running in standby, and underneath it all, Tony’s voice. He hummed absently as he moved around you, flicking through translucent holoscreens that floated in the air, readable only to him. Light glinted off his arc reactor through the thin black shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins flexing with every subtle flick of his fingers.

He looked like a scientist. Or a surgeon. No, a goddamn artist.

“You look tense,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers grazing your jaw with a feather-light touch. “That won’t do. We need to get a clean read. No clenched teeth, no locked jaws. Just you- open and…relaxed.”

He held up a sleek piece of tech. A mix of leather and metal. To you it looked like a ball gag. That wasn’t just a gag. It was his gag. Something custom. Personal. Laced with Stark Industry Tech.

“Open up, baby. Gotta install the biometric reader. It’s not science without a baseline.”

You hesitated, lips twitching. Just for a second. But he didn’t push. He just waited you out, smirk deepening, one brow arched like he had all the time in the world. That cocky, knowing gaze made you squirm even before anything touched you. Your breath hitched. And then you parted your lips.

“There we go,” he said, tone thick with approval as he slid the gag into place. It clicked against your teeth, snug and firm. A soft vibration flickered across your tongue as it locked in pushing the muscle down.

Friday’s voice chimed in overhead, calm and clinical.

“Gag calibration complete. Biometric sync active. Tracking vocal response, saliva levels, and tongue pressure.”

Tony leaned down, brushing his lips across your cheek in a whisper of a kiss. “Good girl. Now let’s get to work.”

He started with the egg.

Sleek. Silver. Pulsing faintly in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. The metal shimmered under the clinical lights, smooth and polished, shaped with the kind of precision that only Stark could deliver. He turned it over once, twice, like he was admiring a prized gadget- one that he was particularly proud of.

He showed it to you like a doctor unveiling a revolutionary new tool- calm, confident, deeply amused. Except this wasn’t a sterile exam room, and the look in his eyes wasn’t professional. His smirk told you he already knew what kind of mess this thing would reduce you to.

"This is your warm-up," he said, voice low and playful. "Phase One. Internal warming protocol. Testing receptivity. Calibration through heat and pulse response."

You whimpered into the gag. Of course you were excited- he’d been teasing you with this little 'demonstration' all week. Whispering promises in your ear, tapping out reminders on your thigh, dropping technical jargon laced with filth that left your core throbbing before he’d even touched you. Now that it was finally happening, your whole body was buzzing with need.

He didn't wait. He moved closer, one gloved hand parting your thighs a little further, the other settling between them. The bench adjusted beneath you, lifting your hips another inch to meet his touch perfectly. His fingers dipped between your folds- testing your wetness, teasing you just enough to make your body jerk in its bonds.

"Already responsive," he muttered, half to himself, half to Friday. "She’s going to be a dream to log."

He slid the egg in with two fingers, slow and deliberate. The cool metal kissed your entrance, making you flinch slightly- it was colder than you expected, stark contrast against your heated skin. Your walls instinctively tried to resist, clenching down, but his fingers were patient, coaxing you open, parting you around the sleek, unyielding toy.

The egg slid upward, heavy and smooth. As it moved deeper, your body yielded to it, the slow stretch making your breath catch. Its contours were designed to press into every sensitive spot, and you could feel your muscles fluttering around it, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. As he pushed it deeper, you could feel every inch of it being swallowed by your body, your slick muscles tightening, fluttering around the intrusion.

He pushed the egg up high inside you, then paused, his finger still inside you too. "Squeeze for me," he ordered. You did, instinctively, your walls closing down as you used your pelvic floor, and Tony gave the platic string attached a soft tug.

The stretch, the resistance- it was delicious. The egg stayed locked in place. You couldn’t push it out if you tried. He smiled, clearly pleased.

"Perfect. Secure fit," he murmured. "Wouldn’t want it popping out mid-test."

It settled deep inside you, a sinful throb blooming in your core. Then it pulsed- just once, a quick flutter that made you jolt.

"There we go," he breathed, watching the screen light up with new data. "Didn’t even turn it on yet and she’s already going. Fuck, I love this job."

You were barely processing the first toy when he reached for the second.

Beads. Tapered, growing in size, each one gleamed under the soft blue lighting like tiny pieces of futuristic art. You squirmed, thighs pressing together, but it was no use- Stark had seen your reaction.

Tony laughed- low and delighted.

"Didn’t know we were going there, huh?" He nudged your knees apart again, voice dipping to a darker octave. "Come on, baby. I want you to open up for me. Let’s see what this one does..."

You shook your head slightly. Whimpered into the gag. Wide eyes watching him as you tried to protest around the ball gag in your mouth. 

Tony turned to the tray beside him, selecting a small, frost-blue tube of gel. "Wouldn't be very considerate to skip prep," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a slow, deliberate line of the slick, glistening substance along the length of the beads. The gel shimmered faintly under the light, warming as it reacted with the ambient temperature.

He coated each bead carefully, fingers moving with methodical ease, making sure the entire string was evenly slicked. "Lubricated. Body-safe. Custom formula," he said with a wink. "Slippery enough to slide in smooth- sticky enough to stay in place until I say otherwise."

Then he held the beads up for you to see, the string dangling between his fingers. You tensed instinctively.

"Oh no. You’re freezing up. Can’t test properly if you don’t behave. Legs. Open."

You didn’t.

Tony tsked, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. Then he grabbed your chin, firm and steady, tilting your head so your eyes locked with his.

"Don't think so much. That’s not what good test subjects do."

Click.

The bench tilted beneath you without warning. Your hips rolled upward, knees falling further apart as the restraints auto-adjusted. You were fully exposed now- helpless. Wide open.

"You know I can override those restraints, right? I built them. Now be a good girl and show me everything."

He dipped his finger back into the gel and brought it to your ass, pressing a cool dollop directly to your tight, puckered entrance. The sudden chill made you flinch, but it was followed by the warm glide of his fingertip as he gently teased the gel in slow circles.

"You tense here, too," he said, amused. "Don't worry. This formula warms up just like you do."

He rubbed it in carefully, working the gel into your rim with delicate, coaxing pressure. The sensation tingled- both from the temperature shift and the way his finger circled and pressed until your body finally began to relent.

Then he lowered the beads between your cheeks and began to press them in- one at a time. The first slid in easily, the gel working its magic, cool and slick. The second made your breath stutter. The third had your whole body tensing as your hole stretched just enough to accommodate the new pressure.

Each one pulled a different, desperate noise from you- somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, caught in the back of your throat and forced through the gag in broken fragments.

By the time the third bead settled inside you, you felt full. Stretched in ways that left you panting, your back arching hard off the bench. Everything was working together- the deep pressure of the egg nestled high in your core, the hum beginning to buzz through your clit like a phantom, and now the slow, firm intrusion of the beads pressing against nerves that had you seeing stars. You struggled to catch your breath, the gag forcing each inhale to be short and choppy. Air hissed through your nose while your mouth flooded with saliva, spit slipping from the corners of your lips in thick strands that slid down your neck and onto your chest. The overwhelming heat of arousal and frustration tangled in your gut, building like steam with nowhere to escape. The restraint of it made the fire inside you burn hotter.

Your muscles clenched involuntarily, your hips rocking against the air, chasing friction that didn’t come. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Just drool, tremble, and take everything he gave you.

"Mmm. That moan? That was bead three. She likes that one, Friday."

"Confirmed," the AI replied. "Pelvic floor tension rising. Heart rate increasing."

"Good. Means it’s working."

The egg began to heat. The beads hummed in sync, and you felt everything shift- internally and externally- as pleasure bled into pressure, and pressure into overload. You were trembling now, thighs twitching again, trying to close- but the bench held you wide, utterly exposed.

"Heart rate’s spiking..." Tony’s voice was pure, filthy glee. "Oh, she’s gonna break soon. Look at her squirm."

You rutted against the air, clit untouched and screaming for attention. Your walls fluttered around the egg, your ass clenching down against the beads as the different pulses overlapped and collided. It was all too much and somehow not enough. You needed more and needed it to stop, all at once.

You tried to breathe, but the gag made it impossible to take anything but shallow, panting gasps. Each exhale was laced with a moan. Drool spilled freely down your chin, dripping warm across your face and neck. You were flushed, messy, wrecked- and he hadn’t even touched your clit.

Your back arched violently off the bench, cords of heat coiling through your belly and thighs. It felt like your body was unraveling, muscles tight and desperate, nerve endings screaming with pleasure.

Tony leaned in again, voice dark and syrup-smooth. "We’ve got her plugged, egged, and ready to combust. Think she can handle the next phase?"

Friday answered, "Orgasm build-up at 87%."

"Perfect." He tapped a command into the air. "Now let’s push her."

The egg pulsed deeper. The beads vibrated sharper. You cried out- moaning, writhing, the gag muffling it into raw, incoherent noise. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t beg. Just sob through the pressure building to a breaking point.

"Baby, this is science. Filthy, beautiful science."

It hit you like a wave- white-hot and all-consuming. Your legs shook violently in the stirrups, muscles spasming as your body locked around the egg and beads pulsing inside you. Every nerve ending fired in chaotic pleasure, overwhelming your senses. You tried to scream, to sob, but the gag reduced it to a shattered, strangled cry that vibrated through the tech, each desperate noise dutifully logged.

Drool spilled in long, wet strands down your chin as your back bowed hard off the bench, your whole body trembling under the assault of pleasure. Your cunt clenched tight around the egg, milking it involuntarily, while your ass throbbed with each hum of the vibrating beads. Everything inside you was pulsing, moving, grinding you down into submission.

Tony watched, transfixed, his gaze locked on your ruined, shaking form. “There she goes - God, I should patent that moan.”

Your eyes rolled back. You could barely breathe. You could only tremble and leak and convulse as the orgasm tore through you. The bench beneath you vibrated subtly with your body’s response.

Friday: "Orgasm confirmed."

Tony waited until you were trembling, your breathing uneven, your thighs still twitching with aftershocks that rippled through your overstimulated body. Sweat slicked your skin in a thin, glistening sheen, catching the light as your chest heaved with broken gasps around the gag. Your limbs strained weakly against the restraints.

Then- slowly, methodically- he reached between your cheeks and took hold of the first bead. He didn’t rush. He eased it out one at a time, each slick orb dragging along your inner walls with a sticky, stretching glide. You shuddered at the sensation- the unbearable emptiness that bloomed in the wake of each removal. Your ass clenched reflexively around the loss, trying to hold onto what had filled you so completely. But he kept going.

The final bead popped free with a slick, obscene sound. Your hips jolted involuntarily, your back arching once more as your body spasmed again, clinging to the ghost of sensation.

Friday's voice crackled overhead. "Anal pressure reduced. Sphincter still contracting. She’s experiencing post-orgasmic muscle spasms."

Then came the egg.

He curled his fingers inside you, tugging the retrieval loop with a firm, practiced motion. The egg slipped free, wet and shiny,  your cunt fluttering uselessly around the sudden void. The stretch, the drag, the warmth- it all left you aching. You cried into the gag, overwhelmed by the emptiness and the continued tremors in your muscles. Your thighs kicked slightly, your knees drawing in as far as the restraints would allow.

"Vaginal walls contracting. Core temperature still elevated. She's not done trembling yet," Friday observed, calm as ever.

Tony held both toys in one hand now- wet, warm, shining. He looked down at you with naked satisfaction.

"That’s some damn good tech," he said. "But we’re not done."

From the tray, he lifted his final piece.

A dildo- sleek, deep grey, Stark-stamped at the base. Modeled after him, and you knew it. Maybe a little bigger. Slightly wider at the base, with delicate ridges along the underside that hinted at something extra. Your breath caught just looking at it.

“This one’s special, baby. Built it from memory- well, from yours,” Tony said, rolling it in his hand. “Temperature regulated, pressure-sensitive, and the best part? The internal sensors sync to your contractions. It responds to you. The more you clench, the deeper it drives. A perfect loop.”

You whimpered around the gag, heart fluttering.

He moved between your spread legs and lined it up against your soaked, fluttering entrance. You were already sensitive- still trembling from the last orgasm- and when the wide tip pressed in, you nearly cried. It stretched you slowly, steadily, a little more than you were used to. Your slick walls resisted at first, clenching down instinctively, but Tony was patient, guiding it with precise control.

“There you go,” he coaxed, voice smooth but sharp-edged with amusement. “That’s it. Take all of it. Come on, baby- I know you can..”

His tone dipped into a purr. “There you go. Taking it like you need it. Bet you love being filled up with Stark-grade tech, huh?”

Your back bowed off the bench as he pushed it in, inch by inch, your pussy yielding to every contour, forced to accommodate the full shape of it. The fullness was delious, your body stretched taut around it. Your eyes rolled back as the final ridge slipped inside, the toy settling deep.

“There,” he said, watching your reactions with fascination. “Fills you out just right. And now... we see what she can really do.”

The base clicked into a pulse pattern, and the toy began to move inside you- slow at first, deliberate, like it was learning your shape. You could feel every textured ridge of the shaft as it rubbed against your inner walls, dragging across oversensitive flesh, sparking little detonations of pleasure with every pass.

Then it pulsed- long and low, a rhythmic thrum that radiated from base to tip, sending heat spiraling through your belly. With every thrust, the toy seemed to stretch you deeper, nudging a spot that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch against the restraints. Your pussy clenched around it reflexively, triggering the internal sensors Tony had mentioned. And just like that, the toy responded- pressing harder, thrusting deeper, faster.

It wasn’t just fucking you- it was reading you, syncing to the wild flutter of your muscles, pulsing in tandem with your arousal.

“Look at her,” Tony murmured, grinning as he watched the toy disappear again and again between your legs. “Every little squeeze makes it work harder. You’re doing this to yourself, baby. And I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

You’d been so consumed by the thrusting inside you, by the stretch and pulse of the toy, that you hadn’t even noticed Tony move. But suddenly, he was there- looming over you, and the egg was pressed directly to your clit.

The sensation was immediate and brutal.

Your entire body jolted. The contact felt almost painful, your nerves raw and exposed, the stimulation electric. You tried to buck away, hips arching, thighs trembling, but you had nowhere to go.

Tony caught you effortlessly. One hand shoved the egg against your swollen clit, refusing to relent, while the other pressed down on your thigh to keep your knees from closing.

“Uh uh. None of that,” he said smoothly. “You don’t get to hide from this, baby. You earned it.”

You sobbed into the gag, thrashing your hips side to side, but the bench and Tony’s hands made escape impossible. Every attempt to squirm just sent the dildo thrusting deeper inside you, and the egg grinding cruelly over your clit.

“You’re not gonna break,” he whispered, teasing. “You’re gonna burn for me.”

"Don’t you dare run from it. look at me."

He was holding you still- one hand clamped over your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other pressing the egg mercilessly to your clit. You were trembling in his grasp, utterly helpless against the merciless pairing of his tech and his control.

"You’re gonna come again for me, sweetheart. Real data’s in the repeat response," he said, eyes locked on yours, voice both commanding and hungry.

The dildo thrust deep, the ridges grinding against your most sensitive spots as your walls clamped down. The egg buzzed brutally against your swollen clit, so overstimulated you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to run from it or chase it. Every jolt of pleasure lit your nerves like lightning- white-hot and impossible to hold back.

Your body jerked, hips spasming, thighs trembling violently as the sensations overloaded you. Your entire body was working against you- every clench, every twitch, every gasp just triggered the toy to go deeper, harder, faster. You weren’t riding it anymore- it was riding you, and Tony just watched with that devilish smirk, keeping you wide open.

“That's it. Shake for me. Scream into that gag. Show me what science can do.”

The climax tore through you without mercy- harder, deeper, a violent unraveling of every nerve as your body convulsed around the relentless rhythm of the tech inside you. You didn’t just come; you shattered, splintering open in a release so intense it blurred your vision, your mind, your ability to distinguish pleasure from pain. Your vision shattered into sparks, your scream muffled into a raw, hoarse noise behind the gag. Your body thrashed in the restraints, muscles locking as the orgasm ripped through you, longer and sharper than the last.

Friday: "Second orgasm confirmed. Neural spike significant. Subject approaching physical limit."

He slowed the toy, letting it ease to a stop deep inside you before withdrawing it carefully, letting you feel every last ridge dragging along your raw, overstimulated walls. Then, with a gentleness that almost contrasted the torment he’d just put you through, he removed the egg from your clit. The instant the contact broke, your whole body sagged in the restraints with relief and exhaustion. You were shaking, barely breathing- every inch of you buzzing, nerves fried and twitching from the overload.

You could taste salt on your lips- your own tears and spit, your jaw aching from clenching around the gag. You were drenched, body glistening with sweat, your skin flushed and hypersensitive to the air.

He removed the gag last. Your jaw fell slack with a wet, trembling gasp, strands of spit clinging to the corners of your mouth. You blinked up at him, vision hazy, lips wet and parted.

Tony gazed down at you, eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin that said told you so. He looked like a man admiring his finest creation- smug, yes, but also thoroughly entertained by the glorious, twitching mess sprawled out beneath him.

“You did good, baby. Fucking beautiful. But next time?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to your temple- slow, deliberate, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“Think I’ll need to design something that gets you to squirt. Can’t let a variable like that go untested. Wouldn’t be very Stark of me to stop now, would it?”

He turned with a little flourish, tapping the screen with a flick of his fingers, not bothering to look back.

“Friday, save this session. Label it: Successful. Prepare files for Phase Two.”

[astarlinggirl]

dbf!jack abbot x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, daddy & dad kink, slight fauxcest, nipple play, overstimulation (m!receiving)

a/n: happy belated Father’s Day guys

Riding dbf!Jack in your bedroom during your 4th of July barbecue, muffing your moans because your father’s downstairs.

He sits up against the headboard as you bounce on his cock, rough groans muffled in your tits. His wide hands encasing your waist as he bounces you, moves you up and down on his cock.

“Fu-fuck just like that daddy,” you whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly, nails leaving half moons on his pale freckled skin.

He grips your waist tighter, letting out a pained groan.

“Yeah baby, daddy’s cock makin’ you feel good?”

His gravelly voice taunting you only turns you on more, hands moving to hold sides of his neck. You let out a soft whimper buried in his hair.

He grips your hair tightly and pulls you back to face him.

His brows furrow as he grits out, “Fuckin’ look at me while you ride me.”

You nod, head bobbing up and down, babbling apologies softly leaving your lips, “m’sorry dad.”

His hips jerk up at that, a low moan leaving him.

He leans down, keeping his eyes on you as he runs his tongue around your nipple, once, twice, then sucks it into his mouth. Pinches your other one, dragging his tongue along your tits as he alternates between the two, leaving a line of slick in its wake.

You have to bite your lip to muffle your moan, gripping him tightly. Your walls clench down on him tightly while he keeps his head between your chest.

You slide a hand down his chest, your nails rake over the littering of chest hair there.

“Yeah just keep- just like that sweetheart, such a good girl for me, fuck.”

His husky voice spurs you on, and you drag your fingers down, over his nipples. Then you pinch them, hard.

“Oh- oh fuck, fuck baby I’m- I’m coming, shit!”

Jack bites down on your breast as his hips jerk shakily under yours, and he comes. His spend fills you, some of it dribbling down his length and pooling at his base where you’re connected.

But you don’t stop riding him, still searching for your release.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so hot,” you moan into his mouth as you lean down and kiss him.

He groans softly against your mouth, hands gripping your waist in attempts to stop you.

“Yeah baby, but you gotta- fuck, you gotta stop, s’too tight.”

You whine, “No dad, still need to come.”

You grind slowly on him, the patch of gray hair rubbing against your slit, feeling his cock hardening inside you again.

“Shit, fuck bunny- s’hurting.”

“Daddy please, please just a little more,” you beg as you litter kisses over his face between each word, whimpering.

He leans back, groaning as his head softly hits the headboard behind him.

“Please, daddy let me use your cock.”

He folds when he sees you pouting, bottom lip jutting out. Anything for his pretty girl.

His fingers travel down to your clit, rubbing slow circles. You moan softly, clenching.

“S’fine you just keep bouncing yeah? Be my good little bunny.”

You press a kiss to his lips muttering soft thank yous as you ride him, bouncing on his cock, until you come with a soft moan of his name.

He gets you back once everyone leaves the barbecue and he stays the night, giving the excuse of being “too drunk to drive back home”.

Little does your father know that across the hall from his bedroom, Jack’s got you splayed over his lap, fingers pressing into your aching cunt as he makes you come, over and over again. Until you’re a babbling mess crying for her dad.

for the anon who requested dbf!jack and for @tempestfawn whose dms this was brewed in per usual

[lostalioth]

(smut) dbf! jack abbot- this is lowkey a wild ask so it's completely up to you if you want to write it or not but... like soft smut where reader is scared of pelvic floor exams. asked jack about pain with penetration and he said he'd examine them if they wanted that. time passes before reader finally agrees, jack coming over to their apartment- let's just say it ends with stubble burns against their thighs.

✶ match box 06 — 3k follower event.ᐟ

✦. ─ cw: dbf!jack abbot x younger fem!reader, 3.2k wc, fluff, smut, medical inaccuracies, nicknames [kid, sweetheart, honey], inappropriate physical pelvic exam turned oral, prob missed some.

— I LOVE WILD ASKS please never ever be afraid to send ‘em i really loved this one. 

As you had gotten older, you allowed your yearly pelvic exam to come and go. Sometimes you would get the courage to make the appointment and tell yourself this year you’re gonna do it. You’re gonna face the music, anxiety be damned and go get checked out. Then as it inched closer and closer to the date you chicken out and cancel.

 

You were beyond scared of getting one. You knew exactly why too, losing your virginity had not been nearly as fun as all your friends made it out to be, sex hurt. When you told your girlfriends this they looked at you a little funny and asked maybe he didn’t do it right, it wasn’t exactly supposed to be painful, not the whole time anyway. So you did a few experiments of your own, cause maybe they were right and the guy just i don’t know did it wrong?

You bought a toy, a not too big but average to smaller sized dildo, online as going in store was too much to handle. And one night when your college roommates were out, you tried using it but it hurt just the same, you even tired just using your fingers but that wasn’t much better. From then on for years, you avoided sex as much as you could. All subsequent boyfriends who managed to persuade you into it just told you it'd be “Much better with me trust me baby” and it never really was. 

When you bring it up to one of your friends again, they point something out that you had been trying to avoid thinking of. “Hey, isn't one of your dads friends a doctor or something? Why haven’t you asked him about it?” oh that guy. Yeah the one you are kinda a little too attracted to who’s not just your fathers friend but his best friend, who makes your brain short circuit each time he calls you sweetheart? That one. Yeah you’d rather not talk about how sex is painful to the older man, who is the closest person to your father. You just might have to though if you ever wanna actually enjoy sex in your life. 

When you see Jack a few days later for your dads weekly dinner night he hosts, you manage to pull him away telling your dad it’s private girly medical related questions, he shuts up shortly after that. 

“What's up kid you okay?” Jack asks, concern evident in his voice. You rarely asked him anything medical and he was a bit worried you’re about to ask him how long is it normal for a woman to go without getting her period. “How…” you squeak out. Oh god here it comes. Before you start again you clear your throat. “How um common is, you know pain during sex…” the word sex leaves your lips in a meek and quiet tone, Jack tries his best not to chuckle as to not embarrass you further, but he’s happy it's not the question he was expecting. “Pretty common kid, at least the first time” he explains calmly, his casual demeanor easing your anxiety only a bit. “And how about every time?”

The idea of you having sex multiple times shouldn't be making Jack's chest ache the way it is, you’re a young beautiful girl after all, he tries telling himself it’s only cause it’s apparently painful and he cares for you. This time he straightens up a bit, “if the guys aren’t being rough, it's less common, it shouldn’t be every time” he watches as your eyes go a little wide and shake your head no in response to the first half of his statement. “Have you had an exam lately kid?” This is a purely professional question so it shouldn’t feel as dirty as it does coming out of his mouth.

“I um normally cancel them” Jack can only sigh out in a bit of frustration. “You should really get them regularly sweetheart” he misses the way your thighs lightly squeeze together at the use of the nickname. “I’m scared s’ all, anything going um inside hurts and doctors offices only make me more nervous” you explain. He smooths a hand over your hair, sympathy lacing his voice. “it’s okay i don’t mean to make you feel bad about it kid i swear” “How-” he stops himself, his eyebrows furrowing as if he was debating something in his head. “What?” you prompt, trying your hardest to not buckle at the knees from the way he’s practically petting your head. Physical touch is a quite rare thing between you too minus a few hugs on birthdays or pats on the back. “How about I give you one?’ oh sweet jesus that sounds wrong. He clears his throat, his face a little flush now at his own words but he doesn’t backtrack. “I’m a doctor, that you know, so it’s less scary” “No appointment needed if that makes you more comfortable” as you are processing his words he continues on. “I could do it at your apartment, where ever you feel most comfortable”

  

Your throat shouldn't feel as dry as it does, but the idea of Jack examining your pussy makes your head spin and slick settle between your legs a little. Maybe you should just see a regular random doctor, not one you have a wildly inappropriate crush on. You leave him with a small “Thank you, I'll think about it” and run off with the excuse of using the bathroom. You leave before Jack that night without much of any goodbye to him, he tries not to dwell on it, he really hopes he didn’t upset you.

You however dwell for days on Jack’s suggestion. Without the underlying nerves you feel because of being attracted to him, it is a good idea. You’d feel far more comfortable, maybe too comfortable being examined by him rather than a doctor you hardly know. You don’t bring it up to anyone as you’re too embarrassed but you think about it for days. When you get a reminder for the last gyno appointment you were brave enough to make, you cancel it without another thought and text Jack. 

All he does is thumbs up your message but for the next few hours you are anxious as all hell while waiting for him to knock on your door. You had given yourself the time both to calm down but also clean your apartment. Even though he was literally coming over to give you a vaginal exam and wouldn't care what your place looked like, you wanted it to be neat. Even if this was going to be probably the weirdest event in your life to date.

You are startled out of your train of thought by a knock at the door, you glance at the clock — 3pm exactly. Damn older men and their punctuality or was it a doctor thing? Shaking your head you nervously make your way to open the door, greeting Jack with a little awkward wave. He chuckles softly, the sound calming you as you step back from the open door to invite him in. “It’ll be alright, i’ll be gentle kid” his voice runs over your skin leaving behind goosebumps. You don’t know what you’re more nervous over, the expected pain of the actual examination or, the idea of Jack's hands on you, his fingers in you. 

Without wasting much time Jack settled into a semi professional but still comforting balance as he puts down the small bag of stuff he needs on the floor of your living room. You appreciate his effectiveness, as he tells you to sit on your couch facing him. You listen and watch as he sits on top of your coffee table. “This will be a little awkward because we are here and not a hospital, so I don't have a few things sweetheart” he starts to explain. “The no gown won’t be too hard, you have a skirt on so if you could just take off your underwear i can have access without-” he paused a moment as if thinking “leaving you too indisposed” the way he snaps a pair of blue latex gloves on shouldn’t be making as wet as it is, fuck. 

“Can-” you stutter out, your face hot but he seems to pick up on what you’re asking, nodding softly he turns his head away to give you some semblance of privacy. Bunching up your skirt you hook your fingers into the waistband of your slightly soaked panties and pull them down your legs. You kick them under the coffee table so they’re out of sight and tap Jack on the shoulder, he shakes his head softly at your shyness before turning to face you again. 

“Put your feet up either side of me on the table, won’t be the same as stirrups but close enough” tugging at the end of your skirt to cover yourself a bit more you do as he says and place your feet up flat on the low table. He adjusts them slightly, grabbing your foot one at a time and slides them a bit so they are more half off not so far back. “Scooh more to the edge of the couch kid, lean back ‘n tilt your hips up a lil more f’ me” the way you listen so well to Jack has him smiling softly at you and muttering out a small “Atta girl” 

He pressed lightly around on your abdomen through your shirt and skirt, eyes glued to your face gauging your reactions. “No pain or tenderness when I do this, right?” when you shake your head no he stops. “My hand is gonna go under your skirt for a second okay?” your face grows hotter and you nod, your voice has yet to find you again but so far nods are an effective enough communication with him. He reaches down between your legs but only presses around again, this time he is much closer to your pussy but he remains on the outside, pressing over the mound of it and on your pubic bone. “No pain?” Once again your head shakes side to side. His hand pulls away, your eyes follow his movements as he reaches down to grab a small bottle out of his bag.

He holds it but doesn’t do anything with it yet, his eyes find yours again “This next part i have to put my fingers inside, that okay sweetheart?” you gulp softly, nodding yes slowly as your nervousness grows again. “That’s the part that us- usually hurts” you explain in a small voice. It’s Jack's turn to nod now, "Penetration?” you let out a ‘mhm’ in agreeance as he squeezes the clear substance onto his pointer finger. “This is lube to make it easier and I’ll go slow, only one finger” his other hand reaches around your leg to touch the back of your calf, rubbing soothing lines up and down the muscle. “If you’re relaxed it might not be as painful” he explains, waiting on your go ahead before reaching down under your skirt once again. 

Pushing his lube coated index finger through your folds the tip of it finds your entrance, he gauges your face, when you nod again he proceeds by pushing it inside. 

Your sharp intake of air makes him stop once only the first bend of his finger is inside. “Come on, relax f’ me sweetheart” his low honey dipped voice makes your body go a bit lax, he inches his finger forward again and when you show no sign of pain he goes all the way til it's completely inside. “How’s that kid?” he sounds as breathless as you feel but you try to ignore it. “A little pain” you squeak out. “Give it a second, relax and it might go away”

“Don’t know how to relax more” you whine out, the sound going straight down Jack’s spine and up again, he shivers a bit and wills it away before it travels further south. “I’m gonna try something…do you trust me sweetheart?” you’re already nodding again in response before he fully finishes his question. 

Bringing his thumb up he parts the lips of your pussy til it finds your clit. You gasp out and slightly scare him, “That hurt?” “No no m’ sorry surprised me is all” you mumble out, biting your lip to hold in any more noises from getting free, like an accidental moan. Jesus christ why did you think this was a good idea again? If you had to bet you’d say you were soaking his gloved finger, even with the sting you felt from it inside, it felt good at the same time. You never even reached this type of feeling with your own fingers.

His thumb on your clit presses down lightly and starts rubbing in circles, you let out a small little sigh that makes Jack smirk a bit. “There you go honey, come on” “Un-tense your shoulders” your body listens almost instantaneously “Good girl” you can’t help the whimper that comes out at his words, he doesn’t say anything in response. “Feel any better?” he prompts, his eyes remain on your face, no matter how bad he wants to peek under your skirt to watch the way your little bud twitches under his touch. “Mhmm a bit” you answer softly, trying to push away the odd feeling bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Can I put in another finger, we’ll see how that feels?” he whispers, he definitely has enough information that he thinks he knows what’s wrong already but you don’t need to know that. “Yeah” you pant out, shaking your head a little too eagerly, if Jack notices he doesn’t say a word. With ease his middle slips in alongside his pointer, his thumb still circling your clit. “No pain honey?” the motion of your head once again answers his question. “Wanna try something else…can I move my fingers sweetheart?” 

“Please” you plead, head to fuzzy to care how desperate you sound. Slowly pulling his fingers back he watches your face as he pistons them back in, repeating the motion. “That feel good?” “Mhm no pain, fuck! feels really good” you whine out, your hips now bucking up against his fingers. He speeds up, still waiting to see if it hurts or if you stop him. “Jack” you moan out, his cock throbs in response. 

“Yeah kid?” “Need- Mm” you cut yourself off, pinching your lips in a line and tilting your head back. “Nuh-uh come on honey, tell me what ya’ need” he prompts, curling his fingers up to hit a different spot inside you that has you letting out a pornographic noise you didn’t know you were even capable of. “Need-” you huff out, before he stops you “Look at me when you say it, come on kid” “Use your words”

Lifting your head you look into Jack’s eyes, his breath hitches at the sight of your glazed over lust filled eyes, batting your eyelashes you start again. “Need more” you sob. His stomach just about hurts now from how hard he is in his jeans that feels all too tight. “Yeah? What more honey? Another finger or something else?” he asks, consciences be damned he’s not gonna leave you hanging even if your old man would fucking kill him if he ever found out about this. “Somethin’ else please” you whine, not even knowing what more you want. Jack however seems to when he takes his free hand off your calf and lifts your skirt, his head ducking under it. His fingers don’t stop positioning in and out of your slick cunt even if you squeal a bit at his motion. The noise morphs into a moan, your body melting into the couch when his warm tongue pokes out and makes contact with your pussy, licking at your pussy. “Still feel good kid?” he mumbles out, before his thumb leaves your bundle of nerves only to be replaced by his mouth as he sucks at it. 

“Yeah- Yeah feels s’ good” you breathe out, letting go of your skirt, he grabs at your one leg, lifting your foot off the table placing it over his shoulder, prompting you to do the same with your other before his fingers slip out of your pussy. 

You whine at the loss, “Jackkk” making him chuckle softly against you. “Hang on sweetheart” he coos as he uses both hands to grab at your hips, pulling you up and half way off the couch to get you closer to his mouth, lapping at you hard splitting your folds with his pointed tongue before sucking at your clit. “Ah- Ahhh ooh fuck” you wail out, your hands frantic to steady yourself. One finding purchase on his shoulder before sliding down his back under his shirt where your nails scratch at his skin. The other holding on for dear life to the edge of your couch cushion, your legs tighten a bit around his head. 

“Holy shit” you whisper out in breathless disbelief, the odd feeling from before coming back to quickly build in the pit of your stomach. Jack's large hands cupping your waist squeeze at your flesh, as he shakes his head side to side a little, flattening his tongue against you. Your thighs burn a bit at the friction of his stubbly face rubbing against them. He moves back to harshly sucking at your clit, your pussy and his mouth coated in his spit as he practically slurps at your juices.

“Huu- shit” “Wait wait! Jack- mhm feels like m’ gonna pee” you try pushing at his head to stop him, even if you desperately didn’t want his mouth off you. That feeling in your stomach was teetering on the edge. “Ya’ don’t have to pee sweetheart, that’s a orgasm you feel” he grumbles out, the explain making your hand ease up from pushing instead it rakes through his curls “S’ okay cum for me kid” 

“Promse s’ okay” you whine out, staring down at his head between your legs. “Yeah, you can do it” “cum f’ me it’s okay honey” "Promise it’ll feel good, no pain” his reassure is all you need to let your high wash over you, legs shaking on his shoulders, “There we go, fuck” he moans out. Your back arching as you cum on his tongue with a loud wanton moan filling your apartment coupled with his praise, “Atta girl, sweetheart” “Such a good girl f’ me” he laps at your cum. “Taste so fucking sweet, like i knew ya’ would” he mumbles out, that one you think was meant more for himself.  

Managing to reluctantly pull his head from between your soft thighs, Jack used his hold on your hips to place your body back onto the couch. You stare at him wide eyed when you notice his face all wet, covered in you. “Got somethin’ on my face kid?” you nod meekly. He chuckles and pinches at the collar of his shirt to bring it up and wipe at his mouth. “No pain after?” he asks. “No, never done that before” you whisper out, flicking your head down to where your skirt now covered your puffy but satisfied pussy. 

“Just needed an older man huh sweetheart, help ya’ relax a little and the pain melts away” he states, reaching down to rub at your knee. “Fucking little boys” he tsks but your eyes are glued to the large bulge in between his thick thighs. You’d have to be extra relaxed to take that monster on…

— would the position jack eats you out in, be at all comfortable for that old man's back? fuck no and lowkey it’s a hard to physically imagine it but jack’s strong s’ fineeeee i got a little too lost in sauce when writing clearly oops…this was also only like half proofread.

[robinavitchslut]

a late night encounter with best friend’s dad!robby. (1.9k)

you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, at first you thought it was just one of those stupid teenage crushes but as you entered adulthood it never went away.

you feel so sick about it sometimes. he’s your best friend’s dad after all, an extension of her, he shouldn’t be an object of your affection. but you can’t help it. he’s so tall and handsome and just oh so competent, nothing like guys your own age.

you try to play it cool around him, try not to give yourself away but the innocent little lilt you add to your tone whenever you address him as “mister robinavitch” betrays you. the way you press your thighs together when you’re sat on the couch joining in their family movie night and he’s sat just so close to you.

or how you get heart eyes and your brain just goes so fuzzy when he’s talking about his work, explaining procedures or just talking in general. you have to physically remind yourself to close your mouth and not drool all over the kitchen table.

the annual summer barbecues are the worst. when he’s stood at the grill flipping burgers with a beer in his hand, looking so very dad. you sit by the pool lounging in your bikini, sunglasses concealing the way you can’t help yourself from staring at him as your best friend yaps away to your right. you can’t hear a word she says, too focused on the way the condensation from the glass bottle drips down his knuckles, the light sheen of sweat on his flushed neck. he’s gorgeous.

you always offer to help clean up with him, he makes remarks about how polite you are, what a sweet girl you are, how you’re such a good influence for his daughter, how happy he is that she has you. he has no idea that you’re only so helpful because you want to be around him as much as you can, that you’re obsessed with him, that you need to be in his orbit.

that’s what you think, at least.

robby knows. of course he knows. he’s not stupid. he sees the way you look at him, always has. he should say something, knows he should let you down before you’re in too deep but he loves the attention, loves the way being desired by someone so young and pretty makes him feel. so he stays quiet.

and if he gets up in the middle of the night to grab a drink when you’re staying over and hears you heading down the stairs, who’s going to stop him? it’s his house. and if he forgets to put on a shirt, who’s to say he even knew you were down there?

he smirks at the way you jump when he clears his throat in the doorway and your eyes widen at the sight of him. you look like a little deer in headlights, so innocent and sweet, he can hardly resist getting closer to you, leaning on the counter as you stumble over your words.

“oh, sorry m-mister robinavitch, did i wake you?” you stutter, trying so hard to keep your eyes on his face but failing miserably, allowing yourself a peek at the hair that adorns his broad chest.

“no, no. came to get a glass of water, couldn’t sleep. sorry if i startled you, sweetheart.” he smiles. robby’s not even trying to hide the way he’s looking you up and down, taking in the sight of you in your almost too tight tank top with no bra and your tiny little pajama shorts that show off your thighs so beautifully.

“oh no, it’s fine. just didn’t expect anyone to be up at this time.” you laugh nervously, hands shaking slightly as you bring a glass of water to your lips and take a small sip.

“you having trouble sleeping too?” he asks, reaching behind you to fill up his own glass, his arm brushes yours, he’s so close, closer than he’s ever been.

“i uh- yeah, hard to sleep when it’s so hot…” your eyes fall to where his arm meets yours and you swallow thickly at the feeling of it, the warmth of his skin, the slight tickle of his arm hair against your own skin.

“mm.” robby nods in agreement, finally pulling back and returning to his position against the counter, he’s closer than he was before though. “i was going to watch some tv if you want to join me?” he invites you like it’s the most casual thing in the world, it should be. your heart shouldn’t race when your best friend’s dad asks if you want to hang out with him, your face shouldn’t flush and prick with heat, but you can’t help it.

“uh, yeah. sure..sounds good.” you swallow another nervous gulp and follow him out to the living room, sitting kind of awkwardly at the very edge of the cushion as though this is your first day on earth and have never sat on a couch before. robby sits beside you and laughs at your awkward demeanour.

“you can get comfortable, you know? i won’t bite.” he winks as you shuffle back on the couch, settling into the cushions by his side. you laugh back nervously, god you wish he would.

he flicks on the tv with the remote and it opens on some random channel, you’re not even sure what’s on, you can’t concentrate on anything other than the feeling of his thigh resting against yours, the way you’re so sure he’s leaning into you slightly, how you can feel the warmth of his body up against your side.

a couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel the warmth of his large palm against your exposed thigh, you flinch at the sudden contact and your heart starts racing a mile a minute. he’s touching you. robby is touching you. he’s never done that before. does he know he’s touching you? was it an accident? should you move away? should you say something? what if it was–

“feeling okay, sweetheart?” robby breaks the silence and your spiral.

“i uh- y-yeah.” you nod slowly, not daring to make eye contact with him, scared he’ll remove his hand if he realises it’s there.

“mhm, sure. just your face looks like you’ve seen a ghost or something…am i making you uncomfortable? want me to stop touching you?” he tilts his head slightly when you finally look at him and a devilish smirk tugs at his lips as he watches you slowly shake your head.

“n-no, please don’t stop.” your voice is shaking, so unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. you know you should tell him to stop, you shouldn’t want this so bad. what if your friend wakes up? but you can’t bring yourself to say no. he’s finally touching you, just like you always wanted, you’re not letting this moment get away.

“good, i won’t.” he slides his hand up higher, the tips of his fingers slipping up the opening of your shorts, if he moves just slightly to the left he’ll be touching the exposed, soft mound of your pussy. god, how you’re willing him to do it with your mind.

his hand massages the top of your thigh for a little while, your eyes are glued to where it disappears under your shorts. he’s staring at you, watching the way you’re struggling to keep your breathing calm whenever he squeezes just so, how you bite your lip in anticipation when he inches just that much closer to where you want him the most.

“this okay, sweetheart? feels good?” he leans into you, his face just inches away from your neck, you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin, goosebumps prick up your arms.

“y-yeah, so good.” you nod, swallowing hard and parting your thighs a little bit hoping he’ll get the message.

“mm. good. good.” his deep, gravelly tone rattles in your ear, sending shivers all the way down your spine. “how ‘bout this? this feel good?” he asks as he finally slips his hand between your legs, fingers softly rubbing between your soaked folds. you gasp and grip the back of the couch with your fist as his fingers graze your clit and and a quiet moan slips past your lips.

“i’ll take that as a yes, hmm?” robby’s face is all the way in the crook of your neck now, you can feel his smirk against your skin, the scratch of his beard tickling your shoulder so deliciously. fuck, it’s happening. it’s finally happening.

“mhm, feels s’good, fuck.” you whisper as he continues drawing slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. he presses his lips against your neck, kissing and sucking lightly on your pressure point, your legs open wider for him on instinct, robby takes that as an invitation to slip in one long, thick finger inside of your wet heat.

“fuck, your pussy’s so tight, sweetheart. can barely fit my finger, think you’ll be able to take my cock, hm?” he bites at your neck so gently, only to suppress the deep groan that falls from his lips as you tighten around him at the mention of his cock.

“mhm, i can do it. please, want it so fucking bad, you have no idea, mister robinavitch.” you rest your head against the top of his, melting into the couch as he adds another finger inside of your tight cunt, trying so hard to stop yourself from being too loud but it’s almost impossible he’s too good.

“yeah? gonna be a good girl and take all of my big cock?” he swipes your clit with his thumb as he works you open with his fingers, you nod eagerly in response to his question.

“gonna need you to use your words for me, sweetheart. want me to fuck you? want to feel this tight little pussy squeezing my cock so bad.” his pace is getting faster now, more frenzied as he thinks about how good you’re gonna feel wrapped around him when he’s splitting you open.

the tight band in your stomach is so close to unraveling, your hips buck up into his hand to meet the thrust of his fingers and you’re about to reply when you hear the click of a light switch just at the top of the stairs. robby pulls his fingers out of you immediately, wiping them on his pajama pants as he quickly returns to sitting upright, hoping to god he got up quick enough before his daughter as able to see what was happening.

“what’s going on?” she asks as she pads down the stairs, you turn to her as she rubs her eyes sleepily. you don’t know what to say, your heart races in your chest as you adjust your shorts.

“nothing, honey. just couldn’t sleep so we put on the tv, you having a little trouble sleeping too?” robby grabs a pillow and places it in his lap to cover the strained outline of his hard cock trying to escape his pajama pants. you don’t say anything, your throat is so dry from the fear of almost being caught.

“yeah, too hot. room for one more?” she asks before flopping down on the couch beside her dad, resting her head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her.

“of course, the more the merrier.” he smiles and kisses the top of her head, giving you a quick glance that says ‘i’m sorry.’ before turning his attention back to the tv.

well, there’s always tomorrow night.

woof woof woof, i looooove me a little bit of sexual tension. hope you enjoyed <3

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robby masterlist

[inbred-eater]

MY MOON MY MAN

pairing .ᐟ dbf!jack abbot x younger!fem!reader

warnings .ᐟ 18+ mdni. smut. dry humping. oral over clothing. finger sucking (everyone scream!) sexual intercourse. unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it irl plsss people). reader is dr. robby’s “daughter” - they’re not biologically related but she sees him as a father figure. age gap (reader is in her middle to late 20s). reader is close friends with trinity. both jack & reader are soooo flirty. he calls reader kid + many other pet names. reader calls robby ‘dad’ sometimes. horribly inaccurate medical jargon.

summary .ᐟ the 3 times jack has to pull himself from crossing that line that would change everything between yourself and him + the 1 time he throws caution to the wind and does something about his feelings.

acknowledgements .ᐟ gif (1): @/notbuckybarnes | gif (2): @/doctorjackabbot | divider: @/s-silk

authors note .ᐟ i listened to my moon my man whilst writing this ⭐️

part 2

The first time Jack realises just how fucked he truly is, is when you show up with the sweetest smile, warmest cheeks and what seemed to him, the raunchiest navy blue and white polka dot mini dress he’s seen in a long while.

He has a firm grip on the Bud Light can in his hand, nearly denting it as his eyes follow you across Michael’s backyard, flitting around with a smile and the swish of that damn dress as you greet Trinity, then Dennis, snorting when Trinity laid a playful smack to your ass, his grey eyes watching shamelessly as your pert ass recoiled under the smack, the ends of your dress lifting just slightly, already sending his perverted mind into overdrive. "Jesus christ man, get a fucking grip," He huffed under his breath to himself, shaking his head, as well as trying to shake away the less-than appropriate image of you in his head, busying himself with the beer in his hand, taking a sip to quench the thirst in his throat.

This thing he had for you, this crush (although he wouldn't dare admit that out loud due to how ridiculous it sounded - I mean a man his age having a crush was just humiliating, he thought) he'd begun harbouring, he knew it was wrong, he knew it was shameful - you were basically Michael's kid, not only that but he had scars older than you - everything about this little infatuation should've been pushed down to the deepest, darkest parts of his brain, but that weren't the case.

So deep in thought, he hadn't even realised that you were standing right in front of him, your greetings falling on deaf ears, "Earth to Jack - helloooo!" You smiled, your head tilted and eyes wide as you waved your manicured hand in front of his face, pulling him from his trance with an airy giggle.

"Hey kid, when'd you get here mhm?" He hummed, inhaling sharply as he feigned indifference, smiling as he brought you in for a hug, your vanilla perfume hitting him like a drug. "Got here a bit ago actually, had to take my things upstairs cause I'm stayin' here for the weekend - ooh what're you drinkin?" You hummed, mindlessly reaching for the can, taking a swig of it only to pull a face at the sour taste on your tongue, handing it back to him immediately, "Ew, tastes like burnt asshole," You snorted, pulling a smirk from Jack himself, shaking his head at your antics. "What? Can't handle a little beer? Thought you were a big girl," He cleared his throat, his eyes staying locked on yours as he took a sip from his drink now, his lips where yours previously were, the lipstick stain on the rim of the can a testament to that, "You know I am," You chuckled, quiet enough for only him to hear.

A beat of silence passed, that signature Jack Abbot stare prompting your thighs to press together, quickly looking over your shoulder to collect yourself, face warm to the touch.

With that, you conjured up the shittiest excuse to get away, leaving for the bathroom to pull yourself together, Jack needing to do a similar thing as he stepped inside the kitchen to seek refuge, adjusting his semi over his jeans before clearing his throat.

God, you were going to be the death of him for sure.

The second time Jack realises just how in over his head he really is, is the day of the Fourth of July.

Visiting the ED to see Dr. Robby was something you frequently did, staying at the hub by Dana’s desk as you chatted with the nurses, residents or med students, spilling gossip with Perlah and Princess, catching up with Langdon when he had a second to spare and bothering Dennis and Trinity whenever they didn’t seem so busy - hell your visits were so regular, Dana had a picture of you and her tapped to her station along with the pictures she had of her family.

What you don’t expect however, is to see Jack Abbot, decked out in what seemed to be the hottest uniform anyone’s ever worn, rush into the ED along side another officer on a gurney, your eyes widening, body - jesus everything perked up.

“Holy shit,” you huffed, more to yourself that to anyone else, brows shooting up to your hairline, Princess giggled alongside you, “Holy shit is right - cause if I got my hands on him-“ she chuckled loudly, prompting you to laugh along with her, lightly elbowing her side.

“What’s so funny, I wanna laugh too?” Trinity hummed from beside you, chewing the skin on her bottom lip as her eyes searched yours and Princess’ for any hint of what the joke could’ve been, only to follow your eyes and what seemed to be drool in the corner of your mouth, to a very sweaty, hot and bothered Jack Abbot sauntering off into an empty room by himself.

“Seriously?” she chortled, nearly doubling over with laughter, “Didn’t peg you for the dilf loving type, thought you liked the ratty lookin’ ones - like Huckleberry over there!” She laughed even louder, pointing to Dennis, cracking herself up with her own joke, only eliciting a not so gentle yet still playful shove from yourself.

“Shut up! And technically he’s not a dilf - silver fox though? Fuck yes,” you played into the joke, sticking your tongue out playfully before closing your mouth abruptly at the sight of Robby behind Trinity. “What’s a dilf?” He cleared his throat, moving past Trinity to place his hands on your shoulders, brows furrowed as he looked over your shoulders and down at you.

Trinity’s eyes widened before skilfully slipping away, your eyes wide in panic as you mouthed a hushed “fuck you,” to her as you turned in Dana’s swivel chair to face Robby, “Uhhh I am not havin’ this conversation with you, god no, go ask someone else - also, I saw Jack earlier-“ You huffed, looking over your shoulder to the room he’d slipped into, “He okay?” You asked, chewing the inside of your cheek as you looked up at Robby.

“Yeah he’s right as rain - bullet just grazed his shoulder,” Robby hummed, nonchalantly reaching for a mint in his pocket. Your eyes widened, brows furrowed to the Gods in worry, “He was shot? Is he okay? Shouldn’t someone be attending to him or something?” You worried, standing abruptly from the swivel chair you’d been sitting in.

Robby’s head tilted inconspicuously at your worried demeanour, his eyes narrowing before clearing his throat, “He’s a doctor himself sweetie remember? He’ll be fine - but you’re more than welcome to go ask him if you’re that worried mhm,” He almost teased, still suspiciously eyeing you and the manner in which you basically bolted from the hub and toward the room he’d gone in to, eventually shrugging it off and chalking it up to you being worried about a family friend (he was horribly wrong).

You knocked on the door to announce your entrance, clearing your throat, “Jack, hey it’s me - Robby uh - he told me you got shot and I just, I dunno - just wanted to come see if you’re okay,” You spoke softly, chewing the inside of your cheek with your hands crossed behind your back, rocking back and forth on your cowboy boots, waiting for him to either open the curtain or politely tell you to leave.

Jack went with the former, pulling the curtain open, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the man you’ve been crushing on for god knows how long, shirtless, “Oh,” you whispered to yourself, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as your mind had to will your gaze away from his very distracting pecs, mentally face palming yourself for making your attraction towards him so glaringly obvious.

Jack only smirked, that soft but firm one he reserved for you only, “Hey kid - uh I was shot at - bullet proof vest remember, but thanks for the concern,” He softly laughed, distracted himself by the too-short, denim shorts you were wearing, his own mind wondering to dangerous places at the star and stripes of your bikini top peeking out from under your white tank top.

You nodded, rounding the cot to check his back, the wound nasty looking but nothing too serious you’d hoped, “You’re sure you’re okay?” You murmured, chewing your bottom lip - a horrible habit of yours, as you came back to face his front, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, lashes fluttering as you blinked.

Jack swore you were tempting him right now - that goddamn look in your eyes had him wanting to profess his love to you right then and there, the thought of ruining his friendship with Robby, pushed to the back of his mind with how your eyes roamed his, then flitted down to sneak a peek at his bare chest. God you were killing him.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried, anyone ever tell you that?” He muttered nonchalantly, keeping up his facade with his eyes downcast to the medical supplies on the tray before him, picking up a cotton swab doused in some sort of cream for his graze. You scoffed, lips parting to speak but his words had you speechless, your mind mush as it replayed “you’re cute,” on loop.

“Why do you do all this anyway - what, being an ER doctor isn't enough of an adrenaline rush for ER cowboy, Jack Abbot?" You teased, messing with a loose strand of fabric on your jean shorts, the softest smile on your lips as you picked your eyes up from your lap to Jack's, his eyes already on you, something flashing through them - something reckless, something that made you wanna jump his damn bones.

He huffed a laugh out, finishing up with his bullet graze wound, "Uh my therapist said I needed a hobby," He shrugged, raising his brows almost suggestively. You snorted, shaking your head, "Really? That's what you're calling it - risking your life like that is not a hobby, it's a death sentence," you scoffed, once again chewing the skin on your bottom lip.

Jack smiled, that same smile that made your cheeks flush, your ears warm and your thighs clench, "I can handle myself, stop worryin' so much," He cleared his throat, reaching for a clean shirt, sliding it over his frame, much to your distaste. Another beat of silence passed as he promptly pulled the shirt over, his salt and pepper curls a little disheveled, somewhat giving him a boyish charm, only serving to make you swoon even more.

"I take it you have plans," He hummed, swiftly changing the topic as he nodded toward your very skimpy, very distracting outfit, "Yes, uhm - I’m goin to a lake house with some friends, just came here to say bye to dad then I needa get back to my apartment to pack the last of my things," You hummed, mindlessly tracing shapes into the hospital bed. Jack couldn't help but wonder whether these friends of yours were boys, boys he was certain, no absolutely positive, he could treat you better than, that familiar raging green monster simmering just beneath the surface - god you were really messing him up.

"You need a ride back? I’m headed out anyway, could drop you off," He almost whispered, disposing of any used medical supplies before standing up, hissing under his breath at just how short those shorts of yours were, his adam's apple bobbing as he tried to remain composed - you had this ability to make him lose his cool like a teenager trying to talk to their first crush, it was bordering on embarrassing for a man his age.

You didn't miss the hitch in his breath, somewhat proud of yourself, "I actually drove here - I know surprising - but thank you Jackie, I'll take you up on that offer another time though," You giggled, fishing for your phone in your back pocket to check the time, "Shoot I should actually get goin - buttt do me a favour and get a less nerve wracking hobby please - see you later Jack," You beamed, winking as you turned on your heels, hips swaying as you left, most definitely hypnotizing that poor old man, waving over your shoulder before finding Robby.

Jack watched you saunter off, jaw clenched, eyes pierced and cock most definitely hard, "Nice talk kid," he scoffed to himself, shaking his head.

The third time happens when you're visiting PTMC's ED for a completely different reason.

You'd been at a bar with friends, a little tipsy (tipsy's a lie, you were flat out drunk off of your ass) when some guy repeatedly kept coming up to you, talking about showing you a good time even after you politely declined, multiple times at that; at one point he'd even gotten a little handsy, right when his apparent girlfriend decided to show up and in the flash of an eye you were being shoved against the bar, a right hook to your nose and the words "skank", "bitch" and "homewrecking slut" sounding through the air above the ringing in your ears, your own scream drowned out due to the stabbing, shooting pain going down your nose, towards your eyes.

"Jesus fuck!" You yelled out in agony, doubling over as your head started spinning, blood trickling down from your nose, warm and metallic as it gushed over your parted lips, seeping and soiling the cute white top you donned with the crimson colour of your blood. Your breath quickened as your vision grew blotchy, stumbling around on your vintage heels as your friends called out your name repeatedly, their pleas falling on deaf ears as your body gave out, vision going completely blank as you passed out.

Meanwhile back at the ED, it was nearing the time for the night shift to switch with the day shift, the limp in Jack's step a testament to the gruelling night himself and the rest of the doctors and nurses had that shift, his prosthetic giving him problems again. Just as he thought it'd all quieted down, in you came, well a very disorientated, clearly hurt you, hauled in on a gurney, your friend Alex at your side as Jack and a few nurses rushed up to you.

"Woah woah - what the fuck happened here kid?" He stressed, already at your side as the paramedics explained your condition, his eyes searching yours for anything else that might have been wrong. You simply groaned, eyes teary at the terrible pain in your nose, the blood that had been streaming from it now to a halt, dried sticky against your face and chest, "I'm fine - shouldn't even be here - this isn't necessary," You slurred, still a little out of it as they rushed you into a room, Jack assuring the paramedics that he had it from here, brushing you off when you let him know you could get off from the gurney and onto the bed yourself, breath hitching in your throat as Jack effortlessly picked you up and set you down onto the cot.

"Please don't tell Robby - I don't even wanna be here cause he'll just make a fuss and I just-just wanna go home and sleep Jack," You swallowed, wincing slightly as he took your face between his palms, "Okay, okay hush now kid, none of us will tell him but you gotta let me help you okay? Now tell me again what happened here," He softly spoke, his gentle tutting and the warmth of his hands on your skin calming you down to an extent.

"Some lunatic girl punched her square in the nose cause she thought she was flirting with her boyfriend - who was actully just harassing us and then she got all woozy and fainted and I panicked and called 911 cause I wasn't sure what to do," Your friend piped up from the seat she was in, hugging herself.

"That's good - it's good that she was brought in thank you," He hummed as he looked over his shoulder at your friend, smiling briefly before turning his attention back to you, lifting his one hand from your face, holding his index finger up and moving it side to side to assess your cranial nerves and eye muscle function, your hazy eyes following as best as you could.

"Okay now I’m gonna press my thumbs alongside your nose and you're gonna let me know when it starts to hurt alright? Then from there its up for a CT do we can see what we’re really working with here - you still with me sweetheart?" He cleared his throat, bringing his other hand back to your cheek, his thumb lightly caressing the plush skin there before softly pressing his thumbs along your nasal cavity up toward you eye, groaning and wincing once his thumbs reached your corneas.

"Doesn't seem to bad - took that punch like a champ, pretty badass if you ask me," He attempted to lighten the mood, peeking his head out to call on Princess, who had just started her shift, to take you up for a CT scan, only for your hand to wrap around his wrist, swallowing as you looked up at him with the neediest eyes he's ever seen, "Stay with me - please," You pleaded, your bottom lip jutted out, still tipsy and your entire face still throbbing.

Jack hesitated, his eyes locked on your smaller hand around his wrist, his scrubs suddenly getting too hot, "Yeah - okay I can take you up," He cleared his throat, helping you into the wheelchair and hauling you up for the CT scan.

Once you were done, you were back in the ED, already having assured Alex that she could go home and that you'd uber back to your apartment - the poor girl was exhausted and still drunk out of her mind, and her girlfriend had been waiting outside for her so you didn't see why not. In the meantime, Jack took to cleaning your face of the dried blood, his touch tender and reserved, apologising profusely when he'd apply too much pressure in an area close to your nose, his thumb once again tracing slow circles into your jaw as he worked to get you clean.

You sobered up real quick in that moment, your eyes darting all around the room but at the one thing you really wanted to look at; a stillness fell over the space, your heart beating pathetically fast, the cardiac monitor announcing it to the rest of the world along with it, pulling a particularly cocky smile from the man before you.

"So, good news is, there's a slight fracture, but it's nothing your body can't fix on it's own with some time and rest - bad news, no more bar fights for the next few weeks Rocky Balboa," He smiled, eliciting a snort from yourself, your shoulders bouncing as you hysterically laughed at his terrible joke. "What? I'm serious kid - or else you'll start to look like an MMA fighter, then next thing you know we're draining your cauliflower ears," He chuckled, your forehead connecting with his shoulder as your body fell forward with laughter.

"If the pain ever gets too much, a Tylenol should work - now lets get you out of here before Robby shows up," He called his hands, standing up from the edge of the bed, holding out his hand for you to take, like the gentleman he was, and you did, his hand dwarfing yours in size, something he tried really hard not to think about as he helped you stand.

"It okay if I take you home - cause I’m not letting’ you take an Uber like this, and I gotta be out of here soon anyway," He hummed, your hand still in his, his touch grounding you as you nodded, knowing that fighting him on this would only waste time. With that he led you out, trailing on his heels only to be stopped by Dennis and Trinity who were clocking in for their shift.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" Trinity gasped, her hand on your shoulder to look you over, "You should see the other guy," You jested, your eyes heavy with sleep as you squeezed Trinity's arm, assuring her and Dennis that you were fine.

"Okay well let us know if you need anythin' okay?" Dennis hummed, hugging you before walking up to the hub, Trinity only raised her brows suggestively as she gestured with her head to Jack who had stood and waited for you, your lips twitching as you tried your best to not burst out laughing, hugging her before walking alongside Jack to his car. "My favourite shirt's ruined," You sighed in passing, more to yourself than to him, still tipsy as you looked down at your white shirt that was now stained red.

He turned to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he opened the passenger side door for you, "I'll get you a new one," He muttered casually, once again biting back your smile as you got into his car, sucking your cheeks in as you thought over the entire interaction, your fractured nose the last thing on your mind, storing it into that special place you kept all your memories of Jack in.

The final straw snaps on a night you should've been on a date with some lame guy your age.

You'd been excitedly waiting for him, already having ordered a cocktail at the quaint Italian place he suggested, decked out in an all new wardrobe, feeling good about this particular one.

An hour had passed and you’d already regretted your earlier feelings, the other side of the table still empty, the complimentary rolls eaten and your pornstar martini’s glass empty, your eyes stinging with tears as you realised you’d been stood up, the messages to his number not going through anymore.

You felt humiliated as you stormed out of the restaurant, scolding yourself for thinking this one would be better than the others, kitten heels clacking against the pavement as you tried to collect yourself, looking up to the night sky to try and calm down, not wanting to spill any tears on a man that didn't deserve them in the first place.

You fumbled for your phone in your leather purse, nostrils flaring as your hurt simmered under the surface of your skin, your thumb hovering over the Uber app, your mind overthinking to the worst possible scenario before decidedly exiting it and clicking on your contacts, scrolling and scrolling until you had no one else to call, chewing the skin on the inside of your cheeks till a metallic taste hit your tongue, scrolling back up until your thumb hovered over his name, Jack Abbot. You stared down at your phone for what felt like an hour, heart beating rapidly in your chest as you finally worked up the courage and pressed call, sniffling as you held the phone up to your ear.

Jack had been on his couch for the evening, his off day spent catching up with sleep and watching whatever bullshit was on the TV, massaging his leg as his prosthetic lay against the foot of the couch - that was until your name flashed across his phone screen, answering it with a sense of urgency only an ER doctor would have.

"Hey kid, what's up?" He hummed, clearing his throat as he flexed his unoccupied hand, the smile wiped from his face at the sound of your laboured breathing and stuffy nose from the other end. "Hey Jackie," You sighed, your jaw twitching as you looked up once again, inhaling a deep breath to stop yourself from crying, wiping under your eyes as you sniffled before speaking into your phone again, "Sorry for callin so late but I-I don't know who else t'call - Robby's on his stupid sabbatical thing and it's-fuck- its too god damn humiliating too call one of my friends right now and-shit you're probably busy, I shouldnt have called I'm sorry," You croaked out, hiccupping as you spiraled, hands shaky and your worlds a jumbled up mess as you realised what you were really doing.

Jack's brows furrowed at your frantic rambling, shaking his head as he held his phone between his ear and his shoulder, reaching to put his prosthetic back on, "Woah, hey-hey sweetheart slow down - okay you gotta breathe for me or else I can't help you kid - now take a minute, then tell me what's wrong - never too busy for you," He hummed softly, his voice immediately calming you down.

You inhaled sharply, swallowing the bile rising in your throat before trying again, "Okay uhm - was supposed to have a date t'night but the guy uh - he stood me up and I took an uber here, and I wouldv'e uber'd back but its so late and I just - I didn't know who else to call," You sighed exasperatedly, looking up at your surroundings again.

Without wasting any time, Jack sprung up from his couch, tugging on a quarter zip as he looked for his wallet and car keys, "Send me your location, stay where you are and I'll be there as soon as I can okay honey?" He huffed, only ending the call after you confirmed you heard him with a hum, looking down at his phone to see you'd sent the location of the restaurant you were hauled up at.

𝜗ৎ

You sat on the curb, legs crossed and hugging yourself against the chilly evening wind, your eyeliner slightly smudged due to the few tears you'd spilled, only looking up when the familiar roar of Jack's car sounded out, climbing out and urgently walking up to you, "Oh sweetheart," He cooed, gently lifting you to stand from your underarms, your bottom lip wobbling as the flood gates immediately broke open, bringing you to his chest, strong arms wrapping around your neck to keep you close, "I know baby, I know," He whispered, the pet name rolling off of his tongue with ease, rocking you back and forth in his embrace as he shushed your cries, pulling back as his hands slid to your jaw, his eyes falling to your teary ones - he hated seeing you cry.

"Hey hey, look at me - no more crying okay? Any guy would be lucky t'be yours, you know that right? He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” He murmured, the rough pad of his thumb stroking from your cheek down to your jawline, his other hand wiping profusely at your fallen tears, "That dick just shot himself in the foot standing you up - just shows he didn't deserve you in the first place," He huffed, pulling you in to press a kiss to your forehead, "Jesus you're freezing," He laughed softly, letting go of you briefly to pull his quarter zip over his head, his black undershirt riding up, revealing his freckled lower stomach. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, not even registering that he'd moved your arms above your head, sliding the quarter zip over, his cologne overriding your senses, his hands working deftly to pull your hair out from the sweater and back over your shoulders.

"C'mon lets get you home," He quipped, hand at the small of your back as he brought you to the passenger side, opening the door and helping you in, reaching over you for the seatbelt, "I can do that myself y'know?" You whispered, voice hoarse from crying. Jack snickered, pulling the seatbelt across your body and into place, "I know - but I like takin' care of you so sue me," He smirked, closing the door before rounding the car for the drivers door, the life coming back to your eyes as you melted in his sweater, head falling against the headrest with the stupidest smile on your face, the asshole who stood you up already forgotten.

𝜗ৎ

The drive to your place was quiet and easy, the radio playing softly in the background as Jack checked up on you every now and again, saying the stupidest jokes to lift your spirits; the car soon came to a halt in your apartment parking lot, Jack opening the door for you like before.

He walked you up to your apartment, hand hovering over the small of your back but still remaining close, digging for your keys in your purse as you came to a stop in front of your door, opening it before turning to him, swallowing as you worked up the courage to spit out the words burning on the tip of your tongue, "Do you…maybe wanna come in?" You murmured, looking up at him with those eyes again, paired with you in his clothes had him throwing all caution to the wind and nodding before his mind could even catch up to him, closing the door behind himself.

"You want something to drink?" You murmured from the kitchen, standing with your hands behind your back as you looked at him, looking like a puppy that just got kicked out onto the street, tugging at his heart strings, "Uhh yeah sure - what d'ya got?" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he took a seat on your couch, his eyes darting across your living space, everything so uniquely you - a framed photo of you and Robby on the mantle above the fireplace along with a few others of you with family and friends, the photo of Robby seemingly staring him down, acting as the angel on his shoulder, reminding him of how “wrong” his love for you was.

"I've got water, cranberry juice, redbull and a beer?" You scrunched your nose up, your head tilted as you peered from the side of the fridge door, looking at Jack for an answer. "Beer's fine - thank you," He cleared his throat, taking his phone and wallet out from his pants pockets and setting them on your coffee table.

You handed him the can of beer, taking a seat next to him, your bare knee brushing his, your eyes flitting from his hand holding the beer, to the lines at the corners of his eyes and then back down to his mouth as he took a sip, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

A somewhat awkward silence passed, the tick of the hands of your clock loud in your ears as you chewed the skin on your bottom lip, looking everywhere but at the man before you; "I meant what I said earlier - I wasn't just saying it to make you feel better," He spoke, his tone of voice low as he set the beer down, flexing his hands as he turned to you, "Look at me, please?" He practically begged, your body willing you to face him, almost as if there were a magnetic pull between you two.

His words from earlier wrang through your head like a broken tape record, lips slightly parted as you thought them over, the thinly veiled desperation behind those words clear to you now - he wanted to be yours and you wanted to be his.

The silence dragged on, and through it he could see the cogs whirring in your head, the picture of Robby on your mantle taunting him, telling him to stick to his word and not go against his better judgment - but how could he not? That dangerous line you both teetered on seemed to get thinner and thinner by the second, practically nonexistent with the way you were eyeing him, those sad eyes of yours pulling him in until the line was just…

Gone.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, sensually kissing you, large hands flexing on your waist as he hoisted you into his lap, desperately tugging at your (his) sweater and pulling it over your head, his lips falling back into place as he desperately found your mouth again, panting into one another as he moved all your hair over your shoulder, trailing his hungry lips down your jawline and to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, your eyes fluttering as he paid extra attention to the sensitive skin there.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this, you’ve been driving me crazy for as long as I can remember,” He mumbled into your skin, his right hand moving to bunch your skirt up at your waist, his left hand at the back of your neck, straightening your head to look at him.

And you did, your pupils blown with lust as you stared at him, brows furrowed as he began rocking your hips for you with the grip he held on your skirt, his bulge catching on your clothed clit so deliciously it made your head spin; “Yeah?” You huffed out breathlessly, letting out the cutest moan as he bucked up into you, “Yeah kid - should fucking hate myself for wantin’ you but I can’t,” He groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, your scent and touch all around him, making his cock even harder if possible.

You smiled, biting your lip as you looked at him, your hands in his grey curls, tugging at them as your hips continued working, “Bedroom, now please,” You whimpered, Jack smiling as he nodded, wasting no time hoisting you up with one arm, biceps bulging as he did so, his other hand on your bare thigh as he caressed and grabbed at it, getting lost in your mouth as he navigated through your apartment like a man on a mission, moaning into his mouth as his belt buckle rubbed up against your wet cunt.

After what felt like forever, your back finally met your cool silk sheets, his knee sliding between your legs on instinct as he hovered over you, his hand reaching out for the pink stuffed bunny you had on your bed at all times, looking at it with a meticulous gaze, “Cute,” He commented before tossing it, shaking your head and getting all shy as you leaned up to kiss him again, swiftly turning you both over so you were on top, your hands fiddling with his shirt, “Off - want this off,” You murmured into his mouth, his tongue claiming yours before scoffing at your needy demeanour, “So demanding,” He chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head, your lips swollen and kiss bitten as you pulled away, rolling your hips again as you looked down at his shirtless frame, bottom lip wedged between your teeth as you stared.

“What?” He smiled, leaning up on his elbows, growing slightly self conscious. You giggled, your nails trailing over his pecs, leaning down to press a few kisses to the freckles scattered like constellations across his chest, playfully nipping at one of his pecs before sitting back up again, “You’re just really sexy,” You shrugged, smiling as you manoeuvred off of his lap to undo his belt, moving further down south to take off his prosthetic.

“You don’t have to,” He hummed, running a hand through his messy hair - he hadn’t been with anyone since his late wife, and the thought of a younger, beautiful woman being saddled with his issues had him feeling just the slightest bit insecure, and you could see that, with the way his brows furrowed - but you were quick to wash all those thoughts away as you shook your head, “I want to, so let me,” You smiled saccharine sweet, little demanding thing you were, as you pulled up his pant leg to gently remove it, pressing a kiss to his leg once it was off then removing his pants and underwear altogether.

Your eyes widened at the length of him, lips parted in want as you eyed his cock standing at attention, pussy gushing around nothing as you sat between his open legs, “Get up here,” he huffed, quickly wiggling out of your skirt before his hand reached for yours, tugging you back up and onto his lap, his bare cock bucking into your soaked white lace panties, your desperation growing more intense by the second. “Fuck you’re so beautiful,” He hummed, looking up at you with hazy eyes, smiling as you removed your top, tossing it aside as his hands slowly inched from your waist up toward your bare breasts, grabbing handfuls and eagerly squeezing at the flesh.

You whimpered at the feeling, calloused hands rough against your sensitive nipples, his index finger and thumb rolling the pert skin between them, tugging harshly at them, only serving to soak your panties even further. His other hand fisted through your hair, bringing you down to his lips, this kiss messy, portraying the want, no the need, you both had for one another, teeth and tongue clashing, saliva dripping down your chin. “This-“ He breathed heavily, panting into your mouth, the precum leaking from his tip allowing for your clothed pussy to glide along the length of his aching hard cock; “Is why, you don’t mess around with boys baby - they wouldn’t know what to do with all this but I do,” He smirked against your lips, his hands working deftly as they moved you down onto your back again, giggling as he kissed his way from your lips, down your jaw, along the column of your throat and down toward your naval, his right hand smoothing along your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder, your sex right in front of his face. “You still listening baby?” He huffed, his unoccupied hand slapping slightly against your clothed clit, pussy weeping in response. You nodded, thighs threatening to close around him but his broad shoulders prevented it, “Yeah Jack - always listenin’ to you,” You quivered, somehow feeling him smirk at your response.

“Y’got the prettiest pussy honey,” He hummed, clearing his throat as he placed a kiss to your thigh, then right over your clothed clit, the wet patch right over your entrance an indication of just how badly you needed this, how badly you needed him.

“This all for me mhm?” He hummed against your cunt, darting out to lick a stripe along your covered entrance, the friction of the lace against your clit and his nose nudging into it as he mouthed at your entrance, sending your mind into overdrive as he ate it over your panties, using his left hand to pull the fabric taught along your pussy from the waistband, the stimulation stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Fuck fuck fuck, yes! All for you, only for you,” You mumbled breathlessly, your hands fisting the sheets as he messily lapped at the wet patch on your panties, growing hungry for the real thing as he hazardously pulled your underwear aside, his tongue making contact with your bare clit now, stars shooting behind your eyes at the feeling of him sucking your sensitive pearl into his mouth. “Just the sweetest thing ever kid,” He hummed around his mouthful, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your raw pussy, his eyes on your writhing form, smiling in satisfaction before diving back in, all but making out with your sopping cunt.

Your thighs started shaking, back arching off of the bed as he continued eating you out like his life depended on it, his right hand still tentatively stroking your outer thigh whilst his left hand snaked back up to your breasts, flicking and pinching at your stiffened peaks, that coil in your belly snapping at the added stimulation, white hot shooting through your veins as you breathed rapidly, his tongue still massaging your folds as he worked you through your orgasm.

Your chest heaved, smiling as he lifted himself from between your legs, now hovering over you, one hand beside your head to keep him up, his head dipping down to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your nose and then finally your mouth, the sweet moment halted by tasting yourself on his tongue, your arms rounding the back of his neck, bringing him in even closer if that was possible. “You still okay?” He hummed against your lips, pulling back to smooth your hair from your face, thumbing your cheek, “Better than okay,” You giggled, pecking his lips again.

“That’s real great - cause as much as I loved tastin’ her - want you to ride me honey, you think you can do that f’me?” He whispered, blown pupils boring into yours, almost enough to push you through your second orgasm of the night, his chin glistening with your essence.

And that’s exactly what you did, the feeling of him sliding into your spent pussy more euphoric than anything you could have ever imagined, your hands on his chest as you rode him, thighs burning as you moaned out like a bitch in heat, the sounds coming from your room bordering on pornographic - your neighbours would surely send in a noise complaint tomorrow.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby,” He huffed, his hands on your hips as he helped you, tears pricking at your waterline as the feeling was all too much, the tuft of hair at his base deliciously rubbing against your worn clit with each roll of your hips, his cock hitting that spongy spot that made your vision blurry and sent your pussy gushing, your head thrown back at the feeling.

“Can’t-it’s too much Jackie-can’t,” You cried out, Jack’s voice cooing as he hushed you, chest heaving as he panted, “Nah you’ve got this sweetheart, I know you do, c’mon just a little longer - you wanted this kid now you gotta take it like the good girl I know you are,” He murmured, his hand snaking to cup your cheek, tilting your head so you were looking back down at him again, hips still rolling even through the overstimulation.

Your eyes dragged up to find his, dopily smiling through the pleasure, “There she is,” He cockily spoke, his thumb dragging along your bottom lip, before sliding it into your hot mouth, your lips immediately wrapping around the digit, tongue sliding along the rough pad as you moaned around it, sucking his thumb as you would his cock, picking your pace up.

“Fuck,” He almost growled, the sight of you on top of him, in your own little world with his thumb between your plush lips, your breasts bouncing with each thrust up as his large cock bullied through your swollen pussy, the ‘shlick’, squelching sound coming from where your sex were connected sending him reeling, his breath heavy as he used his unoccupied hand on your hip to keep you bouncing.

“I’m close - you still with me honey?” He huffed out, searching your pleasure clouded eyes for an answer. You hummed around his thumb, nimble fingers wrapped around his wrist to keep him there, increasing your pace to push you both just over that edge, your breath caught in your throat.

That line snapped with the last buck of your hips, his left hand digging into the skin on your hip whilst his thumb stayed between your lips, unintentionally quietening your moans as you did so around his digit, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your thighs spasmed around him, body shaking. Jack felt woozy on his own, fucking whimpering as spurts of his hot cum painted your insides, coming down from his borderline bone chilling high, pulling his thumb from your lips and dragging it down till his right hand joined his left on your hips, manoeuvring you until you slid off of his softening length, placing you right on his bare stomach, urging you with a hum and a hand on the back of your neck now, to lay your head to his chest.

And you stayed there, head tucked under his chin, his hand stroking any patch of skin he could find, murmuring sweet nothings and solid promises to you, lulling your overexerted body to sleep.

And finally when you were, your eyes rested, breathing even and your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, the situation dawned on him - that picture of Robby flashing through his mind again, playing on his guilt - but that selfish part of him didn’t care - how could he when the sweetest girl was clinging to him, making him feel alive for the first time in a long while.

With a kiss to your forehead and a soft, “I love you,” against the sweat slicked skin there, he realised he didn’t care - you were worth everything and all of it, and he’d be dammed to let you go - Robby would just have to deal with it.

𝜗𝜚 THANK YOU FOR READING 🪽

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꩜ .ᐟ shawn hatosy + characters m.list

[melomani3]

love your mel fic sm bro🙏🙏 could you do mel x reader who like just can’t cum like she’s tried and like it just never works for her and mel finally being the partner that reads what makes her feel comfortable

✉️ thank you my honey I love you sm more! & absolutely! I want more mel situationships so this is kinddd of on those lines but I hope this is what you were thinking of! thanks for stopping by & I hope u enjoy <3 kisses

demure! perv!mel, mel & reader are besties so very much some homoerotic friendship / denial going on, oral (f!receiving), mel eats it over the panties </3, thigh grinding, some kissing, discussions of orgasms, one mention of reader having sex w a guy / penises, mentions of porn, not proofread wc 4.1k 18+ MEN & MDNI

It starts the same way most of Mel’s hyperfixations do: the underlying lie of curiosity and the simple promise of just wanting to check something out. The itching of one single idea that catches on a part of her brain like a string of a ball of yarn and unravels the more she tries to free herself from it. Only the need to discover the answer to a question. But then, maybe a piece of it still doesn’t make sense, so she needs to go further. Another component. Another. Until Mel would unknowingly find herself in a spiral of, not obsession, but fascination. 

In many instances, it had been over little things. What yarn is best for knitting, what colors a person wears has what psychological effects on those they interact with, the names of the Wonder Girls–nothing absurd. Just what was usual for the average person. Everyone had interests and distributed their time between them varyingly. And it was fine to have an interest in things; it was normal. Mel had just never had the concept revolve around a person before, much less her best friend.

Much less over a topic that had to do with sex. Something she thought about involving you sometimes, but not always. Not that Mel thought about sex often. So maybe her ‘sometimes’ was the average ‘always’.

And the topic being brought up was her own doing. Sort of. More of the incident of her focusing too much on a particular case she’d had when you’d requested the recount of her Fourth of July shift. 

You’d probably been searching for information on how her deposition had gone while trying not to stress her out too much, but instead, Mel had supplied you with more information than necessary on the poor usage of Viagra. 

“Mel,” you hum, making her head snap up from the milky chamomile tea you’d made for the pair of you. Her name coming from your mouth always made her heart squeeze in her chest, made her feel like a dog whose ears perked up whenever their owner called. “I love you, but if you keep talking about penises, I am never going to ask about your day again.”

“Right,” she mumbles, feeling the tips of her ears and her cheeks warm. “Sorry.” You shake your head with a small laugh as you settle back into the couch cushions, a moment of silence spreading between the two of you as your eyes flick back and forth on the TV screen. 

It’s not awkward, it’s never awkward between the two of you. Even when sex is brought up. But Mel figures that’s just how close the two of you are: you aren’t put off by her immunity to smooth conversations, even if that opportunity in your presence is few and far between. It’s just comfortable. The way she keeps her eyes on your face as she debates continuing the mess that was her previous work day, when you’re so clearly thinking about something.

Thankfully, you make the decision for her. “I just– Can it be that good?” you ask, voice a little high in the way that people do when they’re curious about something, but don’t want to seem like it.

Mel’s head tilts, brows furrowing as her lips push together. “I thought you didn’t want to keep talking about it.”

“I don’t, it’s just…” Mel doesn’t push. Doesn’t prompt, just waits for you to either finish or back down from the thought. It carries that sense of knowing that was so sacred between the two of you. The thing that she would do anything for. “I don’t know,” you rush out, signaling to her that you’re trying to retract your question. “Sex isn’t worth taking pills for.”

And that little twinge of curiosity that Mel should know better than to indulge in sparks. 

“Why not?”

You give another shake of your head as Mel takes a sip from her mug, trying to ease the sudden drying of her throat as she waits for the answer. Wanting to crack into your head and know the words you’re going to say before you even do. “Because it doesn’t feel that good to potentially compromise your body?” Mel’s eyebrows raise slightly as she copies your earlier action of putting your mug down. “I don’t know.”

For the first time, possibly ever, when you’re involved, Mel feels like she has more experience. It makes something warm inside of her, makes her sit up a little straighter–tea and Sex and the City on the TV forgotten. “Have you…”

“Hm? Oh– Yeah,” you mumble, looking away from her quickly as you begin to twist the soft blanket that always sat on the back of your couch between your fingers. “Just one time with a guy and it was just…” You pause, the muscles in your neck tensing as you presumably try to find the correct wording. “Not good.”

“One bad experience can’t speak for all of them,” Mel points out, brain beginning to work over the new pieces of information you’d provided her. And the questions are asked before she can properly think them through. “What about when you’re by yourself? Do you ever finish then?”

“Um, no–”

“Have you gotten close? What have you tried?”

“I’m not really sure what ‘close’ feels like, but I think it feels good when I like, um… grind on a pillow?”

Mel just hums. “Have you ever used toys?”

“Okay,” you mumble as you simultaneously take a deep breath. The tone of your voice is enough to clue to Mel, plus the fact that you’re probably the person she knows best in the world besides Becca, that you’re getting nervous. “My sex life isn’t interesting,” you ramble quickly, leaning forward to set your designated mug down on the small coffee table. “Samantha’s is, though, so let’s focus on that, hm?”

Mel’s eyes track you as you settle back into the couch, noting how your cheeks look to be a shade darker than usual and how you appear to be refusing to glance in her direction. There’s a beat of silence and, as per usual, that nagging curiosity gets the better of Mel. “I think it’s interesting.”

The dim lighting of your living room makes it difficult to tell, but Mel thinks your flush deepens even more than she thought possible. 

“General anorgasmia is rarely discussed, especially for women,” Mel continues, eyes glued to your face. She’s barely blinking, drinking in every little twitch of your nose or corners of your mouth. “There are a lot of factors that play into it. Stress, discomfort, relationship dissatisfaction, cultural conditioning.” You glance over at her, fingers busy with the edge of the throw blanket. “Lesbian and bisexual women have an orgasm 21% more often than women in a heterosexual relationship–”

“Quit it,” you mumble, finally shifting over enough to lean on her, one of your hands pressing over her mouth as Mel chuckles, her own hands finding your sides. 

And, sure, Mel’s laughing along with you, the awkwardness that comes from whatever build-up, whatever heavy thing was beginning to settle between the two of you before you decided to break it, never quite being on the line of discomfort like Mel would’ve originally assumed. 

At least, not for her. Because now all Mel can think about is how those fingers pressed over her lips have probably been inside of you. 

And how much better hers would feel.

And so she leaves your apartment early the next morning with a new focus of interest.

Maybe because you’re the main topic, the center of all of this, but that sudden surge of motivation is greater than anything she’s felt before. Someone so close to her, rather than something of Mel’s own interest. A chance to help someone she loves, not like that (maybe like that), and to show you that she cares. That she would go above and beyond for you. Expressing her love language, that’s all it is. Nothing more than some research for her to do when she gets home from the PTMC and her brain still hasn’t crashed from adrenaline highs–something to help her ease into bed.

Thinking about everything she knows about you: what makes you comfortable, the things and times you especially get stressed, what touches seem to relax you against her whenever you’re cuddling. Mel makes notes about every single one of them. Then, she relates them to porn. 

Something she used to be nervous about, always checking over her shoulder whenever she would search links, even if she was in the safety of her bedroom. But with you in her mind, it strangely seems less awkward. Maybe it’s because she’s giving herself an excuse. That this isn’t actually for pleasure or for the means of getting herself off in a voyeuristic way, but rather imagining if you would like the things done to the women in those videos. 

Which is arguably more perverse. 

Especially when Mel thinks about sending you the links. Or when she starts picturing you in certain scenarios that are anything but clinical. Or when she’s back at your place that weekend, curled up against you in your bed, and subconsciously trying to ease you into the feeling. Which isn’t hard, considering how touchy the two of you usually are, and given the late hour.

Mel’s hand slides over yours, fingers tracing over the rounds of your knuckles, sending bits of sparks through your nerves with each pass. Each movement of her memorizes the feel of your skin. It makes something curl down your spine that equally renders you speechless and simultaneously has your tongue ready to ask for more. Mel doesn’t seem to be in a rush, though, her eyes on her own fingers as her thumb brushes over the veins atop your hand. Now and then, you can feel her eyes flick to your face. The urge to bury your face in your pillows is only drowned out by the fact that you fear scaring her away if you move too quickly. 

Not that she would be scared away, you don’t think. 

She started it, after all.

Her lips part with each tiny breath she takes, and you count the flutters of her lashes as she guides your hand to flip over, trailing her fingers up, up, up your arm, only pausing briefly to feel that soft spot of your inner elbow where heat is beginning to collect in bits of perspiration. Mel’s face nudges closer to yours. Tilting up away from your neck so her nose presses against your cheek, and you can feel the puffs of air leaving her. That, and the gentle brush of her lips against your jaw–close to your chin. 

A noise escapes you before you can process it building. 

It makes Mel’s breathing, what you’d been focusing on to try and remain calm, hitch, her body pressing harder against yours so you can feel every bit of softness she has to offer. Her other arm remains awkwardly between her side and the mattress, but that hand–the one with her fingers slowly hooking into the strap of your tank top just to nudge it off your shoulder, already has you trembling.

“Can I ask you a question?” she mumbles, and the vibrations of her voice, softer than usual and almost husky, has you closing your eyes and sucking in a deep breath. When you nod your chin just once, her lips bump against your face again, this time your chin. “Will you let me try?”

And you know what she’s referencing. Even if that conversation, those three minutes of that passing Wednesday night, hadn’t been looping in your mind for the past week, hadn't occurred, you would still be able to read her. Mel–your sweet Mel that would lay the world at your feet if you asked, even without a ‘Please’. 

It still comes as a small shock to you, though, that she wants to have you like that. And it doesn’t help with the way she has you practically melting back into your mattress with the way her thumb strokes over where the strap of your tank top had been before passing over your collarbone. Down your sternum, just dipping under the collar of the fabric. She can probably feel how erratically your heart is thumping against your ribcage. 

Your voice sounds weak to your own ears when you finally manage to speak again. “Are you sure?” It’s barely a breath, her face tucked against yours, and you can feel her glasses digging into your skin. You don’t move, though. Not until she shifts up enough to prop herself up on her elbow, nose bumping against yours. “Cause, um, I don’t want you to feel bad if it doesn’t happen–”

Not: “We’re best friends,” or “I don’t want to ruin anything,” or anything logical.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Mel interrupts gently, the softness of her words ghosting over your mouth. You swallow thickly, finally peeking your eyes back open to find her already staring at you. Pupils large enough to make that honey color of her irises almost seem gone in the dim light. 

Her hand continues. Down between your breasts and over your stomach before it wraps around your thigh to drag and hook your leg over her hip, opening you up and pressing that growing heat between your thighs against her sweatpants. 

“We can just feel each other?” she continues, but it comes out more of a question as another sound that is almost whine-like catches in your throat. And you don’t trust yourself to speak in fear of something louder escaping, so you give her a tiny nod. 

You feel the corners of her mouth twitch up before you surge up to close that small distance and press your lips against hers.

Your hands move from her shoulders to her hair, curling at the roots as her own fingers cinch in your pajama bottoms, tugging you as close as possible to her. Making you grind against her with small rocks of your hips as your tongue pushes into her mouth. She barely lets your tongue swipe against hers before she’s pulling back enough to mumble into your lips. 

“Do you want to keep your clothes on?” she whispers, squeezing your ass every few seconds to encourage the gentle motions of your hips. Each press of your clit against the slowly dampening fabric of your panties has sparks of pleasure rendering your brain more and more useless. “I want you to be comfortable–”

“I’m comfortable,” you rush out, hands pulling weakly at her hair to try and kiss her again. Mel lets you give her another small peck. “Can… Keep them mostly on– Don’t care–” You moan shakily, feeling her eyes on your face as her grip loosens on you, letting you hump her thigh at a pace and pressure that makes your clit throb. “This feels good.”

“Yeah?” she mumbles back in that same breathless tone. Her lips are a little wet from your spit, her cheeks pinkened in the warm light. “I haven’t–” Mel pauses, listening to the tiny noises you’re making as you grind against her thigh, keening gently from the stimulation on your clit against something warm and solid. “I’ve been thinking about ways to try and help you,” she finishes as you give her another kiss.

You don’t seem to fully process her words, though, more of your concentration being on sucking at her bottom lip and pulling at her hair as Mel watches the process that you’ve probably repeated on yourself a countless number of times. Trying to work yourself to an orgasm. Mel figures how quickly you’ve dissolved against her is a result of chasing that feeling–the lack of attention and not truly knowing what your body needs, leaving you needy.

“I figured with the–” Mel’s eyes flutter as you cut her off with a long moan, her words hushed and probably falling on deaf ears. Instilling her voice in your mind as she lets you loosen yourself up for her would help later, though. That’s what she hoped, at least–that you would associate her, something already comforting to you, with pleasure. That it would be the thing to help you get over the edge. 

Her hand on your hip squeezes softly as you keep working yourself. 

“Pillow humping,” she finally continues in that hushed tone. “You like more target stimulation. And relaxation is necessary for a good orgasm.” The words spill from her quickly, like she needs something to do other than just watch you grind against her; otherwise, Mel would move into things much more quickly than you needed right now. “So you’re out of fight or flight mode and your brain can fully process sensory pleasure– We want to reduce your stress and make sure you’re comfortable–”

A frustrated whine leaves you, abruptly bringing Mel’s rambling to an end. She takes a deep breath, hands wandering up to your sides and shifting your weight so you’re back on your back. When she sees the glistening evidence of tears gathering at your waterline, her heart squeezes in her chest, her hands rubbing over your thighs in what she hopes is a soothing motion. 

“Okay,” she whispers, settling between your legs and resting her weight over your chest to kiss your cheeks. Your throat. Over both of your nipples and then just below your belly button. “Is everything okay? Need a break?”

The pout on your mouth has her kissing where your tank top has ridden up again, hands still moving over your body like it’s going to ease your worries. “No,” you whine quietly. “M’just– I knew this was gonna happen–”

“We haven’t done anything yet,” Mel reassures you gently, not letting you get the words fully out. Not wanting them to manifest heavily in your brain and have you already settled on a decision before Mel even got to really touch you in the ways she’d been thinking about all week. Even before that conversation. “Nothing’s wrong,” she whispers. “You’re okay.” The nod you give her is just a little jerk of your chin. 

Mel’s hands on your thighs drag up to settle over your lower belly, and she gives you a tiny smile when your fingers fumble to grab onto hers. 

“I don’t need a break,” you finally answer in a mumble, mouth still set in that tiny frown with your bottom lip pushed out just enough to have Mel wanting to lean back up and kiss you all over again. “I’m just frustrated.”

With your hands still intertwined with hers, Mel dips her thumbs just below the waistband of your pajamas, rubbing the strip of skin that sits under the elastic. “I know,” she whispers. “Can you tell me how close you are?”

You nod, one hand briefly leaving hers to wipe at the space under your eyes. 

“Um– I think I’m like, right there,” you admit, voice sheepish mostly from the hushed tone that makes it difficult for Mel to completely decipher your words. She doesn’t make you repeat yourself, though, knowing that you need to be understood in a vulnerable moment like this. “Can never really get past this point feels like,” you continue in a louder babble, taking on almost a whine that has Mel shushing you softly. 

Her hand that you’d released tucks into your pajama bottoms, easing them down to sit just below your panties. 

Her lips press together when she sees how the fabric is clinging to you–outlining your lips and your swollen clit, the cotton wet with your juices. Before she can stop herself, she’s leaning in to press a small kiss to the place you need her the most, making you whimper quietly and squeeze her hand a bit tighter. 

“Take a deep breath,” Mel says between brushes of her lips against your inner thighs, only continuing speaking once she hears the long sigh and sees the slight fall of your ribs. “Is it okay if I, um, use my mouth?” Even if she already kind of did, but that’s not the point. 

Still, Mel waits for that word of confirmation, and as soon as the small squeak of “Yes” resounds in the warming space of your bedroom, she’s leaning back in. 

“Good,” she mumbles as she lets her mouth trail over your clit again, a barely there touch that has your thighs tensing around her head. “You’re doing a good job, just relax.” Her free hand goes to the spot on your mound just above the bundle of nerves, pulling up to expose where you’re aching further against your panties. “Let your mind go somewhere else, it’ll help,” Mel offers before dragging her tongue over where the nub of your clit is peeking out. 

The sound that leaves you is unlike anything she’s heard from you that night.

So Mel starts with just that–long drags of her tongue to let the warmth and wetness soak through your already ruined underwear, flicking your clit up with gentle stimulation that has you squirming. She lets you squirm, though, the idea of you using her mouth to get off being at the forefront of her mind. Anything that will make this the most enjoyable for you. Your taste makes it difficult for her not to rock her own hips against your mattress, opting to press her thighs together as she lets her tongue venture a little lower with each pass. Tasting more of you. Holding herself back from pulling your panties to the side because this seems to be working you up just fine, and direct stimulation could be a bit much, especially for someone sensitive enough to struggle reaching a climax, and–

“Mel,” you whine, your hand gripping at hers and the other her hair, having returned to the strands quickly after she started with her mouth. “Mel– That feels good– Really good, feels different–”

Mel doesn’t say anything, doubling down over your cunt that she can feel throbbing against her mouth. You yelp when her lips seal around your clit over your panties, pain sparking from where you’re pulling at her hair, keeping her against you in a way you like. A way that she likes too–where your taste and the squeeze of your thighs as you rock against her makes her brain go quiet from its rambling so all she can think about is you.

The whining never stops from you. Little sounds that you would describe as pathetic if you were in your usual state of being in your head. Except, you’re not. Not with the sudden warmth and attention that Mel provides. Not with how your bed feels like it’s enveloping you and her into this bubble of time where it’s just her taking care of you. Making your muscles feel like they’re melting as your mouth falls open and your chest heaves. It does feel different. The way she follows each grind of your hips with gentle sucks that has you gushing into your panties, not letting you escape the sensation. Forcing you to lie there and take it as that tingly sensation that would stop growing in your stomach once you got to a certain point, once your patience ran out, finally began to twist into something tighter. 

You’re trembling. Probably crying a little. But you don’t care, not when Mel finally tugs your underwear to the side and swipes her tongue over your throbbing bud, and you feel yourself finally let go. 

A half-formed gasp of her name leaves your mouth again as your back arches, pushing against her as the euphoria spreads through your body in a crescendo that you’ve been curious about your entire life. Your brain blanks apart from the pleasure that warms your spine and inner thighs and stomach, hands clinging for any part of Mel you can reach just to ground yourself as little black dots dance behind your eyelids. She’s murmuring something against your cunt, but you can’t really tell what it is. Not until the waves of pleasure slowly begin to subside, leaving you worn and panting beneath her comforting ministrations. 

Little tremors still wrack through you, but your mind finally returns with a few deep breaths. 

Then, Mel and more of her gentle kisses. Back up your body to your mouth, tiny pecks that seem lighthearted and almost relieved as your eyes flutter. “Was that okay?” she whispers, hands moving to cup either side of your face as her eyes run over your probably flushed cheeks.

“Better than okay,” you sigh, a kind of lucidity settling in your muscles. “I can understand why people take meds for this now.”

Mel’s giggles are hushed as she leans in to kiss you again.

[abbotverse]

THE PITT SMAU - ALL PARTS [ONGOING]

in which fem!reader transfers to the night shift, and a certain attending takes a liking to her quickly.

pairings; jack abbot x fem!reader, mel x langdon, whitaker x robby, but only jack and reader appear every part <3

warnings; some use of y/n, mentions of loss, some religious trauma, loss of family, insecurity, swearing

♡ PART 1

♡ PART 2

♡ PART 3

♡ PART 4

♡ PART 5

♡ PART 6

♡ PART 7

♡ PART 8

♡ PART 9

♡ PART 10

♡ PART 11

♡ PART 12

♡ PART 13

♡ PART 14

♡ PART 15

♡ PART 16

♡ PART 17

♡ PART 18

♡ PART 19

♡ PART 20

♡ PART 21

[lacydear]

꒰ . ₊˚⊹♡ IMPRESSIONABLE ;; JACK ABBOT ꒱

tags: jack being a perv, i was listening to lana del rey '80's baby' while writting this so definitely scroll if you arent into any of that. huge age gap reader early 20s jack early 50s. if you dont like javadi x robby then this definitely will not be your type of tea!

a/n: this is so highly inspired by the javadi x robby edits i been seeing lol.

you loved the ER.

you sacrificed days that you could of been out with your friends stuck in your room studying to get where you are right now. and yet, it just doesn't seem enough for your mom; an attending general surgeon in the hospital.

jack remembers what you told him on your first day, “i know i might look too young but i studied my ass off to get here.” it hadn't been an easy shift, definitely not a warm welcoming to the pitt. yet you stuck through, did a couple of rookie mistakes but jack wont deny that you handled yourself well.

so well.

so naturally, jack took you under his wing. lingering behind you in hard cases, his rough hand guiding yours through your first intubation. he always found himself with you. assisting you. hovering. it was normal for you after months in the ER, but your mom definitely had something to say about it.

not to you, ofcourse not to you. in her eyes you did nothing wrong, it was all jack who was doing too much. which is why she went to robby. “so you want to change her shifts because she's excelling in the night shift?” robby asked with a bored expression, not taking his eyes off the computer. “trust me. your friend abbot is– he's too close to her.” your mother said, glaring at robby.

“your girl is a big girl, she can make her own decisions.” robby mumbles, finally peeling his eyes off to look at your mother. “she's also a young girl, who's still very impressionable.” your mom clears her throat, lowering her voice slightly. "and abbot can be very...” robby cuts her off, a faint smirk on his face. “pressionable?” after a beat, robby stood up. “trust me. i've known jack for almost half of my life. he would never look a girl her age in that way.”

safe to say the conversation went nowhere. your mom was stuck watching her little girl gaze into a man who's 30 years older than her as if he hung the moon. but your mom underestimated you, by alot.

while she say the shy smiles, shy questions. she didnt see who you really were behind closed doors. inside if abbot's house. jack knows he's wrong for this, fucking a girl who's 20? he's ruining you. and that thought just makes him harder. “jack you're so so deep-” you cry out, your scrubs on the floor, nails digging into jack's biceps.

he's a horrible man, a pervert one. yet you still clench around him as if you're trying to suck every single drop of cum out of him! how could he resist your sweet little face. “such a pretty girl...taking me so so well.” jack coos, kissing your jaw softly, his pace quickening causing his headboard to hit the wall aggressively. you both let out loud moans, climaxing at the same time.

he doesn't pull out, he simply stays inside of you. scruff scratching at your face as she takes a deep breath of your neck. “you know...you mom talked to robby.” he mumbled, you simply hummed in response, still too fussy and fucked out to answer. “asked him to move you shifts...” your ears perk up a little at that. blinking rapidly to clear your vision. “i think she's catching up, sweetheart.”

its not like he tried to keep it a secret. if anything,he would push you in public. his eyes were always on you, he always picked you for cases. unlike you, he didnt have anything to hide. he didn't really care if people thought he was a perverted old man staking his claim on a young girl.

hopefully, he's fucked you enough times to make you not care aswell.

“i dont wanna switch shifts...” you whisper, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders delicately. pouty lips pressing against the clammy skin of his neck. “you wont sweetheart. i wont let them take you, okay?” he starts thrusting, small little bursts enough to make you gasp.

“you're a big girl. you dont need mommy's permission to stay, right?” you nod at his words, eyes fluttering as your legs lock around his waist again. “everyone will try to pull us apart, but you're mine, okay sweetheart? all mine.”

“yes jackie im all yours!” you moan. “all yours. forever.”

and does he have you move out of your moms house the next day? does he ignore the phone calls from robby and your mom? yes. absolutely! he has to take care of his girl, even if that means making you think everyone is against you both.

you dont need anyone but him anyway.

[porchlightfairy]

May I please have peeping tom for Ogilvie ik he's freaky as hell (or like dennis if you don't fw him) 😋😋😋

I think I'd prefer a blurb (but if a headcannon is easier feel free to do that)

Thank you 😍😍😍

I'll be honest with you I was on the hate train till I saw him looking like a whimpering puppy in that LA smog with the sunset. Is that evil?

tags: panty sniffing, panty theft, and ogilvie being a devious little pervert trying to see your underwear.

You caught Peeping Tom: Ogilvie

Ogilvie is sneaky. With his lanky stature you believe he is unassuming. He couldn't do any real harm to anybody. He was so non-threatening. His worst offense was simply being a tad overbearing and not picking up social cues. But who hasn't done that. You took him under your wing. You wanted to help him be more personable.

You invited him to a party at your house. It was actually your roommate's party but everyone in the house invited like 10 people so you thought what would one more hurt. He stands the tallest in the crowd, easy to spot. You put a drink in his hand and force him to mingle.

You do your own mingling and make your rounds around the living space. As you are having a good time hosting, little do you know that Ogilvie has slipped away from the crowd and found your room. He slipped inside and locked the door.

As you had grown fond of the guy, he has grown rather fond of you too. A little too fond of you. One day, while you were leading him down the hall to a patient, he mentioned to you that your shoe was untied. You bent over to tie it immediately and that's when he saw it. Just above the waistband of your pants was the tease of pink lace from your underwear. His breath hitches as he quickly looks away. You were wearing lace underwear to work. Surely, that was uncomfortable. He wanted to ask but he knew that would have been too inappropriate.

But what he failed to consider was that staring at your ass to find out what kind of underwear you were wearing was also inappropriate. Dark blue, black, red on Fridays, Pink on Wednesdays. Thongs, boy-shorts, bikinis, and the occasional g-string. The only time he knew you had that last one on is if you had your make-up done mid way through shift. That meant you had a date after work and would be changing into something a little more scandalous.

He'd watch your every move. He was calculative by creating circumstances to which your underwear was revealed to him. He'd step on your laces forcing you to tie them. Knock over things while you're at a computer station. Worst of all, he asked you to switch lockers with him so he could watch you squat down to your locker every shift.

Now, he was in your room, your panty palace. He wants to look at all your things but he is on a mission; your underwear. He looks through your dresser drawers until he finds them. His mouth begins to water as he recognizes a few of the patterns and colors. He yearns for them all like a sicko but at any moment you could try for the handle and he'd surely be dead. He's looking for a certain pair in particular. His favorite pair.

He had only seen you wear them once and ever since he dreamed about them. A soft blue thong with a black lace hem and black polka dots. It was the first time he had seen a full view of your underwear. You had changed into your street clothes and you were putting your belt on by the lockers. Your pants were very baggy so as the belt looped in the back your grip slipped and he saw it. You gave an apologetic look as you tried to hurry, all flustered by what just happened. What he would give to have that happen again.

He rifles through your drawer looking for them. He felt his heart race as he saw each pair, remembering when you wore them and when he saw them. He chews his bottom lip as he digs. What if you had gotten rid of them? Did him seeing them taint your memory of them? He starts to panic until he remembers; if they weren't clean… then they must be dirty. He turns to your hamper full of dirty clothes by your closet.

Quickly, he digs through your laundry until he finds them at the very bottom. His holy grail, the soft blue thong with a black lace hem and black polka dots. And the cherry on top was they were used. He licks his lips and brings the small garment to his nose. He takes a deep inhale of your sweet scent and moans. He puts everything back the way they were and fold the underwear nicely before stuffing them in his pants pocket.

As he leaves the room as discreet as possible he hears a voice, "What were you doing in my room?" You ask with two cups in your hand.

Ogilvie looks at your nervously, "I needed a break. Someone told me it was okay to go in there for a bit."

"Okay," You seem satisfied with his answer and hand him one of the cups, "C'mon I haven't spoken with you all night." Once he takes the drink you grab his hand and lead him somewhere. He looks down and immediately recognizes that above your low rise jeans you were sporting your infamous g-string.

[deflow3red]

langdon’s gf biting his bicep while they fuck :)

a/n: i meant for this to just be a blurb but this man drives me insane. thanks for the ask! i hope you enjoy! comments/likes/reblogs are always appreciated :)))

wc: 1.2k

biceps. or rather, just bicep. you’re only staring at one right now, propped up beside your head. it has one very prominent vein running down the middle of it, sweat is also running down the whole span of the muscle, and it belongs to dr. frank langdon, your boyfriend of nearly a year.

you should be focused on better things. things like how deep his cock is pressed inside of you, stretching you wide with the tip kissing your cervix. or maybe you should be focused on his face, staring right down at you, his hair all messy from your fingers running through it and sharp blue eyes cloudy with desire. those are a couple really good things to focus on. 

“hey,” you feel it more than you hear it, frank's mouth pressed against the side of your face, hair brushing your temple. he presses a couple of wet kisses to your cheek before speaking again, this time pulling back enough to catch your eye and make sure you hear him. “what’re you thinking about, hm?”

he’s so sweet, checking in like that. you’re used to partners who take and take and take, not ones who check in during sex and treat you like you’re made of the most delicate china. your eyes tear away from the meat of his bicep and find his own, a small smile forming on your lips just from the sight of him. your hands reach up and push his messy hair back, which causes him to moan softly.

“nothing,” you mumble out, shaking your head. you’ve already decided that it was stupid, to be focused so intently on his bicep while you’re having sex. he’s stopped moving at this point, just seated deep inside you as he keeps himself propped up on his forearms. “c’mon, move. wanna feel you, frankie”

he stays still, a small frown on his lips. frank has never been one to just drop anything, especially when it comes to you. he tilts his head, one of his hands coming up to stroke along your cheek. you lean into it without question. “not gonna fuck you until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, baby.”

you let out a frustrated little sigh, face turning to nuzzle more intensely into his hand. you squeeze your eyes shut before mumbling into his hand, a small, “i was thinking about your arms.” you hear him laugh softly, and you grumble under your breath.

“my arms? what about them?” you could hear in his voice how he was trying to avoid laughing again, and it made you wanna roll your eyes. you felt his hand push gently against your cheek, rolling your head so that you were looking at him. “speak up if you want something, sweetheart.”

you were easy for him, and you knew it. with a small puff of air from your lips, you gather up enough courage to ask for what you want. its just frank. your frank. “your biceps are all…distracting and stuff.” you finally mumble out.

he raises his eyebrows and smiles at you, which makes you squirm. he places a hand on your waist to still you, before pulling out. your eyes widen, immediately freaking out. is he leaving? did he think that was weird or something? you clench around nothing and quickly move to sit up, throat closing up like you might cry.

you don’t even get to ask why he pulled out before he’s flipping you onto your stomach, warm hands manhandling you around. again, you clench around nothing, head turning to look at him over your shoulder. he lays flat against your back, chest hair scratching against your skin in a way that makes your whole body shiver.

“frankie-“ you try and squeak out, cut off by his arm moving around your neck, pulling you up into a loose headlock. you feel like your brain has melted and is dripping out of your ears. he’s so close, and big, and his bicep is right in front of you now. frank usually prefers missionary, prefers being able to see your pretty face, but you can admit that this much better.

he reaches down to help guide his length back inside of you, feeling somehow even deeper than before. you let out a pathetic whine and drop your forehead to his arm, eyes rolling back in your head. he lets out a low grunt, tightening his hold on you slightly. his free hand is kneading at the flesh of your ass, moving to your waist to keep a good hold on you.

“is this what you wanted? huh?” he speaks directly into your ear, lips brushing against the lobe and voice melting right into your bones. you let out a hum mixed with a whine. “wanted my bicep around your pretty throat? yeah, thats what i thought. gonna take it like a good girl.”

he begins fucking you again. hips thrusting against your ass, pushing himself right up against the tender spot inside of you. you can feel yourself getting lightheaded. when his free hand trails under your body to catch against your clit, thumb rough against the sensitive bud, thats when you finally lose it. 

he’s breathing hot and ragged against the side of your face, and all you can feel is him. you lift your head slightly, teeth just scraping against the muscle at first. one more rub of his thumb against your clit gets you to sink your teeth in, getting a mouthful of his bicep. he winces, but it quickly trails off into a moan when he realizes what you’re doing.

“ooooh, look at you, baby.” he breathes out, a chuckle falling from his lips. his body is sweaty, and you can feel his thighs trembling as he somehow drives into you even harder than before. “so desperate for it. making a mess all over my bicep. can’t believe you, honey. should’ve said something sooner.”

you’re drooling all over his skin, spit leaking all over his arm. he’s right, it is a mess. his words make you clench tighter around him. he lets out a soft curse into the skin of your shoulder. “g’nna cum.” you somehow pant out without removing your teeth from his skin. you’re sure it sounds all garbled from the spit leaking everywhere.

“i know, baby. can feel you squeezing me, so goddamn tight. just let go. i’ve got you.” his words do it for you, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. he’s not far behind you, a couple more thrusts before he’s spilling every last drop deep inside. the warmth is like no other. 

after a couple of minutes, he finally pulls his arm away from your mouth and pulls out. he laughs dryly at the small whine that leaves your lips, leaning back on his knees. his big hands spread you open, watching from behind as his cum begins to leak out of you. he turns your limp body over, spreading you even wider than before. you’re so fucked out, all you can do is whine.

“so messy tonight.” he shakes his head while he murmurs it, swiping his thumb through your folds and watching you whimper. his eyes move from your pussy to glance at his arm, grinning when he sees the teeth marks you left there. “looks like i’m your new chew toy, huh?”

[deansdeer]

hear me out… frank teaching dennis how to eat out reader. like ur back is on franks stomach and hes telling dennis what to do

OH MY GOD.... wet... how did I not do this one sooner

frank is actively holding your legs apart and Dennis settles between your legs. kissing your inner thighs you can feel franks hard cock on your back and youre just so sensitive from your heightened nervousness.

"alright Dennis, youre gonna flatten your tongue, nice long licks, make sure you get her clit." Dennis nodded licking his lips before licking long strips against your wet cunt. you shudder "make sure you suck on it too" frank told him. Dennis latched his lips to your little bundle of nerves swirling his tongue.

"use your fingers, c'mon, middle and ring," frank said peering over your shoulder. his hands moving to your stomach and breasts "yeah... curl em' your finding her sweet spot Dennis." you whine at his touch but youre still aching, he was too careful.

"dont be gentle, she needs more, c'mon now, make our girl feel good" frank reached a hand down between your legs shoving his head closer. and it worked, Dennis got more eager, no more soft licks against your sensitive bud, no more gentle presses against your gummy walls. he pumped his fingers curling them against the right spot. frank kept his hand on the back on Dennis' head. whinging as your nails dug into his thighs

"feeling good honey?" frank asked kissing behind your ear. you nodded back arching your face contorting with pleasure. "oh fuck!" youre gasping for air as frank pinches your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. his other hand holding your body against him.

"dont lift your head Dennis" frank said pulling your legs up so you couldn't close it on Dennis' head. you whined and cried out before finally coming your body tensed and frank told Dennis to slow down and work you through it, and he did just that. his fingers pumped slowly, and his tongue was softened it licks against your sopping wet cunt

"your boy did a good job eating this cunt huh?" frank asked you as your laid against him bit hazy. frank reaches back down pulling Dennis' hair back so he would lift his head. his chin was soaked and he licked his lips "tell Dennis he did a good job" frank commanded softly.

you looked down at Dennis "good boy" you let out breathlessly. Dennis crawled up to kiss you so you could taste yourself on his tongue as if he was boasting about how good he did,

[biscuits-and-gracie]

Frank Langdon would most definitely sleep with the babysitter that Abby has found to watch Tanner and Penny while they go to couples counseling.

And you’re cute, in college, young, and think Frank is really good guy.

Next thing you know, he’s home earlier than she is. After watching the kids all day while him and Abby went to work. Now you’re bent over the bed he shares with his wife. Tears of guilt and pleasure streaking down your cheeks as he pounds into you.

And of course he coos “awe don’t cry, pretty girl, I can fill you up with another kid to take care of.”

[fereberries]

. ⋮ THE PITT P!LINKS .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

18+ only! make sure you're logged into x/twitter to access the links

included: dr. michael 'robby' robinavitch, dr dennis whitaker, dr frank langdon, and dr jack abbot (might make a part 2 and add more characters hehe)

℘ DR ROBBY

making out w ur ass જ deepthroat જ deeper n deeper જ such a tease જ kneading ur ass જ spread ur legs wide open for him જ

ᯤ DR WHITAKER

inked!dennis જ dryhumping જ after shift video જ hasnt seen you in weeks જ involuntary hip movements જ god he loves when u control him જ slow and soft જ

⚡︎ DR LANGDON

loves watching you squirm જ at your mercy જ early morning before his shift જ he loves ur strap જ laid out before him જ loves how you look at him જ

ᝰ DR ABBOT

pussy whipped જ riding him જ cant stop thinking about you જ touchy feely જ breakfast જ all black જ in uniform જ personal plaything જ

[chrrybl0ssom]

bf!langdon who is sooo annoying at work(writing this w curvy!reader in mind)

he bothers you so much. i can see him hooking his finger with the waistband of your scrubs and underwear and snapping it harshly against your skin. you wince, and he laughs. when ur trying to catch up on charts, he leans his head on your shoulder to be nosy; you try to push him away, but he ignores you and gets closer. he barely lets u work. sometimes he steals ur energy drinks just to piss off. thats all without mentioning the endless touching and groping he does. like grabbing your ass and thighs, and you have to yell at him because he's gonna get you two in trouble with robby and hr. other times, you're alone with him in the break room, and he'll slip his hands up your scrub top. sometimes he'll only leave them on your stomach, so you let him even when you shouldn't. then, sometimes, he can't help himself but grab your bra-clad breasts, squeezing until you squirm away and swat at him.

then, he always catches u in the breakroom, where coincidentally, you always end up alone with him. you don't even realize he's there until you hear the door click slightly after he closes it. "frank . . . ," you say his name sternly as he come behind you, his fingers digging into your hips.

"i'm not even doing anything," he mutters like a lectured child against your neck as you focus on making ur coffee. he really isn't doing anything until you feel his erection against your ass. he whines when you try to step away, his arms sliding around your waist. he doesn't even care when you warn him that he can get both of you in trouble. instead, he just rolls his hard dick against your scrub-covered ass, groaning in your ear because he knows how it turns you on, even when you're trying not to be.

he's so mean; he'll have you sandwiched between the counter and his body just to pull away and leave the room—he jerks himself off in the bathroom afterward. he finds it amusing how annoyed you get.

sometimes he drags you into supply closet, and he'll eat you out or finger you until you're about to cum and pull away, dick throbbing in his scrubs from the way you whine. he's so entertained by the way you ignore him the rest of the shift.

all that just to fuck you when you get home, lying on your stomach and his body weight squishing you against the mattress with his arm around your neck, squeezing every time his dick shoves deep inside your pussy. "still mad at me, baby?" his lips brush your ear. his hips roll, dick kissing your cervix. your gummy walls clamp around him, brain empty—opposite of how frantic it were while you were working. he groans deeply and kisses your temple. "that's what i thought."

[emeraldshardparadigm]

The Pitt 18+ Links

(xxx content) to access links have an X account or change the url from x.com to xcancel.com

𓏲ּ𝄢 Robby Robinavitch

• medplay • prodigy R1 special treatment • so squishy in his big hands • brats get punished

𓏲ּ𝄢 Jack Abbot

• morning after a busy shift • college football coach • making your professor do all the work • no control in his med school days

𓏲ּ𝄢 Frank Langdon

• so strong • wants you to use his face • no lube no worries • make him lose control

𓏲ּ𝄢 Trinity Santos

• loves an empty car park • dragged across her face • she won't let you come • take her strap good

𓏲ּ𝄢 Dennis Whitaker

• letting him explore • preparation is important • day off • their so pillowy and big

𓏲ּ𝄢 Samira Mohan

• circles • likes to make you squirm • new toy • drunk endeavour

𓏲ּ𝄢 Parker Ellis

• making a mess of the sheets • u love her new piercing • dig in every fold • riding every inch

𓏲ּ𝄢 Melissa King

• take your time with her • a sticky mess • likes when you pound her • 2 is more than enough