the first night robby comes over and every night after that.
content: michael robinavitch x reader, jack abbott x reader, hint of jack abbott x michael robinavitch, headcanons, throuple, threesome mention, slight nsfw mention, awkward robby, sad robby, happy robby!
when jack approaches robby one night on the roof, he asks him if he has a crush on his girlfriend. robby blanches, of course, and considers how quickly can he leap the makeshift fence and hit the ground.
but jack doesn't chastise or scold. he tells robby it's okay. that they've known for a while. and that he wanted to talk to him about it.
jack invites robby over dinner, saying it's just to "try this whole thing out" and see how it goes.
robby, who pinches himself secretly to see if he's dreaming, thinks about it. he did have a massive crush on you. and he harbored similar feelings for his best friend, too. but he wasn't good enough to earn a spot on your couch, let alone in your bed.
he's been in jack's home plenty of times. knows his way around. but since you've moved in, there's some differences. a new table in the foyer, for instance. a porch swing hanging outside. a comfortable rug in the dining room. he likes the changes.
when robby's in the living room with jack and you, he feels like a dog from the pound, just adopted, trying to learn his owner's routine. you and jack have a playlist you put on while you cook. it echoes through the house for the first hour he's there. you and jack keep your blankets folded in a basket, in case robby gets cold. because you keep the house cold for jack.
he watches as jack effortlessly touches you, grazes along your back, kisses your cheek, caresses your hand when he takes something from you. he watches as you laugh at his jokes, offer tastes of the food you're making, and sips the glass of wine he poured.
as you eat dinner, you're offering robby the slightest touches. fingertips brushing against each other as you pass him the salt. a hand on a shoulder when you're laughing at a joke. feet bumping under the table while you're listening to jack's story.
later, robby's sitting on the back porch with jack, each with a beer in their hand. you have the radio playing softly as you're draped on the patio furniture. robby sits on the long couch with you and every time your feet pat against his thigh, his breath stops.
"so, about all this," jack starts, and robby wants to shit himself. he almost forgot in the peace of the moment that the dinner was had for a reason. jack explains it. explains your conversations. explains your boundaries. you chime in, offering what you can to the discussion.
robby takes it in. processes it. he's offered a moment of reprieve when you get up to use the bathroom and fetch more drinks. jack asks him. man to man.
"you sure about this?" robby asks jack. he knows he's not the most desirable man the two of them could've had in their relationship. he's got baggage. he's got emotional problems that could keep a therapist paid for years to come.
"100% sure," jack answers him. "besides, she gets lonely during the nights when i'm not here." robby laughs. "we want you to come over, have dinner with us, eat breakfast out here in the mornings."
"and what about..." robby didn't have to finish his question before jack chuckled. "look, i'm not a fragile guy. she's open minded. she's got more love to give than just one man. treat her respectfully, keep me in the loop, and i'm happy."
robby nods. "but only her," jack adds. "if you wanna do this, you gotta be loyal, brother." robby nods again.
as the night comes to an end, robby feels a little more comfortable taking up space. your legs are spread across his lap, his hands solid and warm on your ankles. jack's on the other side of you, keeping you propped up against his chest, an arm slung around your torso. there's music playing and you're talking.
like an adopted dog, robby starts to let his guard down. he seems to have found some shelter here.
later, you and jack are in your bed, curled up in the middle despite the amount of room on either side of you. robby opted for a guest bed tonight, saying he didn't wanna intrude so early. but you can't stop thinking about him. alone in that big bed.
"jack?" you whisper, testing the waters. he hums. "will you ask robby to come sleep in here with us? i don't want him left out on the first night." he slides out of bed and pads down the hall to the guest bed. he knocks a few times and cracks the door. robby turns over.
"hey man," jack says, rubbing his eyes. "she wants you to come sleep in our bed. and i wouldn't put up a fight about it." robby looks bewildered, but gets up and follows jack into bed. he carefully climbs in behind you, but doesn't touch you. jack gets back into position in front of you and you lay on his chest. suddenly, your hand shoots behind you, grabs onto one of robby's arms, and you tug on him until his arm is pulled across your midsection, effectively forcing him to spoon you.
with a sigh of contentment, you fall asleep. robby stays up, listening to the breathing and light snores coming from the two of you.
robby comes over nearly every night, especially on nights where jack is gone. you cook him dinner after his long shifts, he sits at the kitchen island and watches. you offer him tastes of the food and he hums and smiles and says it's the best thing he's ever tasted.
eventually, he gets comfortable enough to come up and hug you from behind, peppering your cheek and the top of your head with pecks. you lean back into him happily.
he takes care of you at night, kills the spiders, checks on loud noises, holds you tight. the first few times you and robby had sex, it was with jack. testing the waters. discovering preferences and likes. and now, he helps you unwind every night, using his talents for good.
in the morning, robby leaves with the promise that jack will be home very soon after. when jack comes home, you make him breakfast. he dances with you in the kitchen, asks how your night with robby was, and eventually tempts you back to bed so he can sleep.
robby stays around for a while, for a long time. he considers forever here. thinks about what it may be like to live like this for the rest of his life. he finds himself on the back porch one night while you finish loading the dishwasher. thinks about that first night, about feeling lost, not wanted. then he hears his name from the open sliding door and smiles.
robby and jack together are generous. you had always had access to jack's credit card, despite numerous occasions on which you said you had your own money to fend for yourself. he tells you that he loves that for you, but to keep your money. robby follows suit not long after, adding you as an authorized user to his amex. you're never in want of anything.
jack and robby start using their pto, using their backlogged vacation days to take you on trips. and hotels aren't so expensive when all you need is the one king bed.
the three of you find an odd harmony and balance in life. everyone's figured out one another. you bounce around each other in the kitchen effortlessly. your legs always find purchase in robby's lap while jack's arms wrap around you. robby's shifts go by a little quicker when he knows what he gets to come home to.
p.s. robby and jack eventually kiss after much pestering from you. it sparks something in robby he didn't know existed. two beers later, and he tries again. that night with the two of them was interesting.
dex is such a freak that he makes you share a straw for your milkshakes because he thinks of it as indirect kissing :( suggestive, mdni. pre relationship dex.
he’ll swat your hand away when you go to put a second straw in, or he’ll take your straw out. or, he’ll just grab your face in his big calloused hand to keep you still for him, making your lips pucker, and shove his straw in your mouth after he’s taken a good sip.
“see? there, not so hard.” it’s almost crooned condescendingly before he gives your cheek a final squeeze.
leaving him to just stare at your lips as they finally wrap around where his mouth just was, ignoring the way you glare at him. because all he could think about was that your saliva was mixing with his.
your saliva was touching his. your saliva was touching his. your mouth your mouth your mouth. he swallows his own saliva that’s pooled in his mouth at the thought.
i looooove cheating on Robby w Jack fics like yes. YES to hurriedly fucking after Robby finally leaves for his sabbatical. so hurriedly that you don’t even make it to the bed, the room. on the floor of the living room.
“yes, fuck yes, oh my god Jack, don’t stop,” moaning loud as fuck as you arch off the hardwood floor, your short pulled over your tits and your panties hanging off your ankle. “three months of this, thank fucking god. love this pussy.” YES!!!
yes to Jack coming over for a barbecue and while you’re inside making a quick drink he comes up behind you and dips his hand under your flowy dress, a short gasp coming from you after he circles your clit.
“j-Jack, Jack.” you warn, eyes bouncing from him over your shoulder, to the sliding door. “there’s so many people here. he’s right outside..!” he’s pushing his hardened cock against you, and of course you grind back. “he’s on the grill..won’t even notice. his egos too big to notice. just wanna touch it a little, i miss her.” YES!!!!!
missing my sweetie big dick fictional man right now and thinking about how pope cody would have no idea he’s good at sex.
like completely clueless.
he would be on his knees, eating you out until you’re clawing at the sheets, eyes brimming with tears, spine arching like it’s about to snap. pope doesn’t even really know what he’s doing. he just makes sure to repeat everything that makes you clench around his fingers and twitch on his tongue. and you’re so close when he curls his two thick digits and sucks you into his mouth. your legs lock up.. your belly feels tight with tingles.. pleasure starts to rise almost alllll the way to your ears and…
he pulls away with a gruff “d’ya like that?”. and it’s not a sexy taunt. his tone is questioning and he’s being completely, utterly serious. you whine in frustration “andrew!!” he looks genuinely confused. “w-what?” your hips buck towards his mouth involuntarily, body aching with the need to come. “i was so close!” popes dark brows furrow in confusion. “you were…” it takes him three slow blinks while staring at your squirming thighs and fluttering pussy to finally understand. his eyes widen “oh shit- m’ sorry sweetheart..” then dives back in. sucking you and scissoring his fingers until you cry out his name and come on his face about twenty seconds later.
or or or. he doesn’t really understand how huge his cock feels inside of you. he’s aware he’s well endowed. but he thinks you’re just being a good girlfriend when you moan so loud at his first push into your tight pussy. pope always forgets that you’re not just stroking his ego. not quite understanding that your loud whimpers that accompany his thick length are authentic. he’ll thrust in and out of you harsh at the start. you can barely speak through the painful stretch of his rapid plunges. your gasps are choked “a-andy! andy s-slow down!” and he does get a little lost in the sauce as he watches your tits bounce beneath him. you have to slap at his shoulder to snap him out of it. “fuck- sorry. feels s’good. i’ll- hhnng- i’ll go slow. promise.”
then he’ll roll over until you’re on top of him. hands bracing his chest and thighs nestled firmly at his hips. he lets you set the pace to make sure he won’t hurt you again. it’s sweet.. until he won’t move again at all unless you’re bouncing up and down fervently. begging him to thrust up into you. “p-please! andy it doesn’t hurt.. need you- please!” once he decides you’re in no pain at all, he’ll grip your hips and piston up into you until you can’t move on your own anymore. completely filled with him. drooling at the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach. and pope is more than confident that you’re not exaggerating when you collapse with a raspy moan as you orgasm on his thick cock <3
dex the type of bf to watch you tweeze your eyebrows and ask you to do it on him, then immediately regret it. somehow it hurts more than getting shot in the stomach. but he's trying to put on a brave face for you, holding in tears as you pluck his hairs one by one
c: age gap, mention of age difference, insecurities about age difference
Summary: After a long wait, Jack finally gets your attention while youre doing skincare—but a small comment from you shifts the mood in an unexpected way.
(Yes! Its inspired by the Quinn audio in a sense :3)
Jack had been patient for exactly forty-three minutes.
He knew because he’d checked the clock three separate times, then deliberately stopped checking so he wouldn’t seem like a grumpy old man—even though, tonight, he was starting to feel like one.
From the bedroom, he could hear the faint clinks of bottles and drawers opening and closing in the bathroom. The soft hum of your voice as you muttered to yourself. Water running. More bottles.
“Baby,” he called, not loud enough to sound annoyed—just enough to remind you he existed. “You fall in there or start a pharmacy?”
“Almost done!” you called back.
He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand over his face. He was stretched out on the bed, one arm behind his head, the other tapping idly against his stomach. Waiting. Thinking.
Too much thinking.
When you finally stepped out, the scent of your cleanser and something floral followed you. Your hair was pushed back with a headband, your face still slightly dewy, glowing in that way he didn’t have words for but definitely appreciated.
“There you are,” he said, sitting up a little. “Was starting to think I’d been replaced by serums.”
You rolled your eyes, walking over. “It’s called maintenance.”
“An hour of maintenance?” he raised a brow.
“It matters,” you said, climbing onto the bed. “I don’t want to be all wrinkly and gross by the time I’m 50.”
The second it left your mouth, you felt it.
The shift.
Jack didn’t say anything at first, but something in his posture tightened—just slightly. His gaze dropped for a second, jaw setting in a way you recognized immediately.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“Jack—” you started.
“Wrinkly and gross, huh?” he said, not sharp, but not light either. His voice had that edge—quiet, controlled.
“That’s not what I meant—”
He let out a small huff, looking away as he rubbed at his jaw, fingers brushing over the very lines you hadn’t meant to point out. “No, I get it.”
“Jack.”
“You don’t gotta walk it back,” he added, still not looking at you. “I know what I look like.”
That stung more than if he’d snapped.
You shifted closer, frowning. “Hey. That’s not—”
He shook his head slightly, a humorless half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Grey hair, lines, whole package. Comes with the territory.”
There was something quieter under it. Not anger.
Insecurity.
That did it.
“Jack,” you said more firmly, reaching for him. “Look at me.”
He hesitated, then did.
And you softened instantly.
“It’s different,” you said.
That made his brows pull together. “Different how?”
“You—” you shook your head, searching for the right words, a little flustered now. “You look hot with the wrinkles and the salt and pepper hair. It’s not the same thing.”
There was a pause.
Then something in his expression shifted—sharp, interested.
“Say that again.”
You blinked. “What?”
Before you could react, his hand caught your wrist, and with an easy pull, he guided you forward—right into his lap.
“Jack—!” you laughed, startled, your hands landing on his shoulders for balance.
“Go on,” he murmured, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you there. “It’s different, huh?”
Your cheeks warmed. “I already said it.”
“Nah,” he said, leaning in slightly, voice dropping. “You rushed it.”
You tried to look away, but his hand came up, fingers hooking lightly under your chin to turn your face back toward him.
“Say it again,” he said, softer now—but there was a teasing glint in his eyes.
You huffed, but there was a smile tugging at your lips now. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you take an hour to wash your face,” he shot back. “We all got flaws. Now—say it.”
You rolled your eyes, but you gave in.
“It’s different,” you repeated, quieter this time. “You look hot with the wrinkles… and the whole salt-and-pepper thing.”
His grip on your waist tightened just slightly.
“Yeah?” he said, studying your face like he was trying to decide if you meant it.
“Yeah,” you said, more certain now. “Like… actually hot. Not just saying that.”
He let out a slow breath through his nose, something easing in his expression.
“Careful,” he murmured. “You keep talking like that, I might start believing you.”
You smiled, brushing your fingers lightly through the hair at his temple—the very strands he’d been self-conscious about. “You should.”
His eyes flickered, then he caught your hand, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles before pulling you a little closer.
“Took you long enough to get in here,” he added, voice back to its usual low warmth.
You laughed softly. “You were the one sulking.”
“I wasn’t sulking.”
“You were absolutely sulking.”
He smirked. “Maybe a little.”
You shifted comfortably against him, arms settling around his shoulders. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Mm,” he hummed. “Still got you sitting in my lap, though.”
You snorted. “That’s not a win, that’s me forgiving you.”
“Sure it is,” he said, leaning in just enough that his forehead brushed yours. “Now get comfortable. I’ve been waiting all night.”
dex feeling a little insecure about the scar on his face. so you suck and bite on his neck, creating much bigger, much more distracting marks on his neck
you’ve been at it for hours, started with jack inviting you over since your boyfriend is on a boy’s trip hours away, ending with him pulling your panties to the side to fuck you on his fingers in the lounge chairs outside. <3
you’ve been in the room now for a bit, currently riding his thick cock in reverse, clothes scattered on the floor near the bed. jack’s teasing your neck with his mouth, leaving open mouthed kisses and bites, telling you how fucking good you’re taking him. “i love you like this, baby. love watching this fucking ass move as you take my cock.” he slaps your hip for emphasis.
you’re a fucked out mess. one hand wrapped around his neck behind you, the other snaked down in front of your body, circling your clit at the pace you love. jack’s got both hands kneading your tits, causing you to arch and moan—crying out.
neither of you hear the front door open, or the little, “dad? i’m home, early!” come from the living room. feeling eyes on you, you open yours, gasping a little as your boyfriend stands in the doorway of his dad’s room, watching you take his dad’s cock so well.
jack’s too lost in you, eyes closed, inhaling your scent as he brings one of his hands up to wrap around your neck. “that feel good, baby? you like when i do this?”
you can’t help but moan, but that’s not what you were gasping about. looking at your boyfriend, who’s eyes are bulging out of his head, you decide to toy with him. “yes, daddy. i love it when you fuck me like this.”
your boyfriend raises his voice at the door, “oh my god.” that gets jack’s attention. his first instinct is to hold you tighter, murmuring, “i know you do, baby. daddy knows.” he looks at his son in the doorway, gritting harshly, “get. out.”
he listens, backing away slowly before running out, “what the fuck.” you’ve never cum harder in your life. <3
thank u guys for 100 followers and counting omg... lots more filth to come i promise <3
older bf!jack abbot x controversially young gf!reader.
content warnings: daddy kink, age difference, humiliation kinda?
you get out of the shower and pad back into your room. jack's sitting up against the headboard, prosthetic off and leaning against the bedside table. his eyes are alight with indignation.
"i saw your phone," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
you stare back at him, completely nonplussed. no shit he saw your phone, it's laying right next to him. "...okay?"
he doesn't explain just yet, just huffs and points a thick finger at it. "yeah. i texted you an article... and your phone lit up."
you're now more confused than you've been in your whole life. "... that is what you'd expect a phone to do, jack??—"
"—why is my contact name 'megadilf' in your phone?"
your eyes widen and your mouth gapes open just a little. he was never meant to find out. you'd saved it as that after a drunken night out with your friends: you'd been drooling over his big freckled arms and the sun-damaged skin on his neck and how he used full stops at the end of his messages. you kept it that way because you thought it was funny (and also because it was true).
jack's not really mad, in fact, he's far from it. he knows you're into the fact that he's a silver fox, and he loves it: it makes him feel good, decades younger, attractive. but he can see that you're flustered, so he plays into it.
"is that how you see me?" he asks, his sharp eyes roaming over your form as droplets of water make their way down your skin. "i'm just an old man to you? a dusty old bastard?"
you open your mouth to protest, no, it was just a joke, but he cuts you off: "drop your towel and come give your dusty old daddy a kiss."
and his voice is so firm and gravelly, how could you argue with him? you crawl into his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. he turns it hungry, of course. all that dilf talk makes him feel virile.
then he's pounding your brains out, making you confess: "say it for me, baby. say it— say you love old man cock. you love this old man cock, don't you? love my daddy parts even though they're tired? still work good enough to turn your brain off, hmm?" while your eyes roll back into your skull.
"i'm big, thick, and i can still get hard, can't i? that not good enough for you?" and yeah, he fucking can. his dick bullies into your cunt so forcefully that it would probably hurt if you weren't so ridiculously soaked with slick. "that's right, moan for me. let daddy know he's still got it. this dilf can still turn you into a fuckin' fountain, right?"
after he's tired you out, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. "didn't mean it in a bad way," you murmur plaintively into the space between you. "i love being your controversially young girlfriend."
and because jack abbot doesn't use social media, he thinks you invented the phrase yourself, and that you're the funniest person in the world. the whole of the next week he goes around chuckling to himself, "controversially young— fuck, baby, how do you come up with this stuff?"
Do you have any more bf’s dad jack flirty thoughts?
boyfriend’s dad jack is the fucking biggest, touchiest, nastiest flirt there is. and somehow, some way !!! it always happens under his son’s nose.
they’ll all be watching a movie, doing some bonding when you ask jack for some water when he gets up. coming back to your spot on the couch, he takes his hand and circles the back of your neck, leaning down in your ear as he hands you the glass, “here, sweetheart.”
he always comes out to do yard work when you’re laying by the pool in your bikini, tanning with your boyfriend. loves to make you squirm and squish your thighs together as you watch him, following him inside to the guest bathroom for a quickie. <3
whenever you and your boyfriend are leaving for a date, he loves to give you a twirl, whistling lowly, telling you you look oh so pretty. your boyfriend just rolls his eyes, grabs your arm to head towards the garage. thinks this dad is just a natural flirt!
𖥔 loves cooking for you. long day at work? the smell of your favourite pasta greets you when you get home, matt smiling as he greets you from behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, hands extremely distracting as he chops garlic for the sauce.
𖥔 loves pet names. sweetheart, darling, honey, pretty girl. drives you insane with them. especially when he's all condescending with it, looking down at you with that fuckass smirk.
𖥔 big physical touch guy. clinging to you any chance he can get. holds onto your arm in public instead of using his cane or his senses, just so he can relax for a bit and focus only on you. (andthenheendsuptrippingonthetiniestrock)
𖥔 obsessed with anything involving your hands in his hair. will rest his head in your lap, talking about his day, voice tapering off into quieter, softer mumbles as your touch soothes him. especially with his heightened senses, the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair, your nails lightly scratching lines down his scalp, is absolute heaven.
when he's too wired from his vigilante duties, restless and unable to relax enough to sleep, you pull his head into your lap, or on your chest, scratching lines down his scalp and the nape of his neck, until he's a puddle, knocking out in seconds.
𖥔 old-fashioned gentleman. extravagant bouquets, holding doors for you, giving you the booth seat, holding your bags, and god forbid you try to pay for anything at all. whether it's a fancy dinner or even just a pretzel at the mall, his card's out before you can open your wallet.
𖥔 when you didn't know about his secret identity, he would hang around on your fire escape after a hard day. honing his hearing in on just you, your heartbeat, your breathing, the way you mumble to yourself whilst cooking, or the soft humming as you clean. he knows its creepy, borderline stalker-ish, but it helps calm him far too much to stop. he's selfish like that.
𖥔 wins you prizes at arcades. need to toss a ring onto a bottle for that massive plushie? suddenly, he doesn't care about pretending to be a helpless blind man. he asks the vendor to clap in the general direction, pretends to miss the first couple of times, and then lands it effortlessly, smiling at your delighted giggles and the vendor's confusion. (ikthisisntsuperrealisticbutshhhhh)
𖥔 loves showing you off. matt is a smug bastard who loves showcasing what's his. an arm constantly around your waist at bars, practically daring anyone to look in your general direction. introducing you as his partner with that smug smirk of his. bringing you to events, showing you off in the pretty silk dress he got you.
a/n: inspired by my lovely aurora @glossiercheek asking for goofy funny bf matt hcs, which somehow i forgot about and my brain filled it in as soft bf matt hcs... hope you like this too though!! and i'm obsessed with this fucker enough to write more hcs, as well as the touching reader's face idea, bc GOD i love that.
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