dad!jack abbot who is obsessed with your tan lines!!! hes always pulling your straps aside to see the contrast between the skin that gets to see the sun vs the skin that’s reserved only for his eyes. he just grabs you and takes a peek whenever he feels like it and you love it! you love to be pretty for daddy!
Could you possibly do an adult Robby with a younger fem and he gets jealous because she’s getting hit on or something?
warnings: dad!robby x college!fem!reader, fauxcest/realcest (choose your own adventure), bratting, 18+ mdni
robby practically slammed the front door behind him as he ushered you inside. he has been stewing in his anger ever since the waiter at the restaurant he took you to started to hit on you. so brazenly too, as if it wasn’t clear he was your dad. how disrespectful is that?!
the worst part was, you did nothing to shut it down. you giggled and fluttered your lids and gave him a coy smile while your dad watched helplessly from his cuck chair across the table. he knew that you turned the heads of guys at school, but at least he didnt have to see it. now that you were home for the summer, he was forced to confront that his little girl isn’t so little anymore.
at the sound of the slamming door, you turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothin’” he grumbled. what else was he supposed to say? that he was jealous that the waiter thought his daughter was attractive?
“uhhuh,” you said, unconvinced. “does this have anything to do with the lack of tip you left tonight?”
he glared at you, ready to refute, but based on your knowing look, it would be no use.
“i didn’t like how he was looking at you.”
“how did he look at me?” you asked.
“like…”
“like he thought i was pretty?”
“like he wanted you.”
you stepped towards robby, into his space, and put your hands on his chest. he covered the back of your hands with his large palms.
“is it a problem for a boy to want me, dad?”
his nostrils flared at your bratty tone. he put more pressure on your hands.
“yeah, baby, it is. stupid fuckin’ kid had no idea what a daddy’s girl you are. and you’re delusional if you think a waiter at a diner could give you want you need.” his words would be mean if they didn’t light such a fire in your belly.
“what if i want to try something new?”
robby chuckled humorlessly. “and hear how disappointed you are that he couldn’t satisfy you? no way in hell.”
“i can make my own decisions, daddy,” you whisper, barely biting back your mischievous smirk.
“baby thinks she’s all grown up, huh? fine then,” he lets your hands go and steps back, putting space between you.
“go fuck some little boys then, see how that goes for you.”
robby turns on his heel and walks away, smirking as he imagines your little heart broken pout. he’ll go sit in the bedroom and pretend to read his book while he waits for you to come sulking in to apologize for being a brat. you two play this game all the time, but he knows you’ll never truly be done being his little girl.
Sammy Bryant and his bimbo badge bunny. But she’s a literal bunny. That’s it that’s the whole idea.
-🥀
sammy bryant x bunny!reader
the first time sammy met you, it was because a well meaning civilian found you on the side of the road. you were shaking and shivering, and they bundled you in a blanket and drove you down to the station. sammy was the first one to check on you. and you just kind of… imprinted on him.
sammy was fresh off the divorce with tammi. he didn’t have custody of his son. and yeah, he could use something sweet like you at home, waiting on him to come home, needy as everyone knows bunnies are. so when his partner mentioned having to call a foster home, he waved it off. “i’ll adopt her.” sherman, very wisely, chose not to comment on the timing.
now, when he comes home, he finds you, laying on your tummy on his bed, already wet. he’ll stick his fingers in your mouth for you to suck while he slides inside of you. “fuck, such a good little bunny. don’t know what i’d do without you.” your ears twitch happily. “daddy!” and, well, it’s not like he has a kid at home. so he growls. “hell yeah, i’m your daddy.”
whenever he sees his son for visitation, it gets worse. he comes home to you. pulls your tiny little tail. grabs at your ears. “never gonna leave me for a fucking photography instructor, are you?” you shake your head, wiggle your ass back at him. “all yours. all yours, sammy. wanna be yours forever.”
poor thing that you are, you get anxious when he’s out. he often finds you shaking behind his couch, having pissed yourself in fear. he always just clicks his tongue, runs you a bath. “poor bunny can’t control her bladder, can she? no, she can’t! daddy’s bunny is just useless. only good for laying there and taking cock.” but it’s said with so much affection. he’ll have you laying there, rubbing your hair, long down your back, scratching between your ears.
you have tantrums too! a few thumps of your foot on the wooden floor to get his attention. especially if he’s talking to tammi on the phone about their son. he always smirks. “bunny’s getting bold now, huh?” then he flips you over, roughly pressing his fingers into your cunt. “can’t even let me have a conversation with the mother of my child in peace. just a needy little thing.” you keen and whine when he makes you cum. “yeah, i got you. don’t worry. you’ll get off.”
sometimes he brings you down to the station. it always makes you excited. this is the place where you met your sammy! he sets you up at his desk with a carrot and a coloring book. you always somehow wander to the interrogation room, where he is shouting at someone he arrested. you always get needy. he comes out, curls stuck to his forehead, to the sight of you rubbing that spot between your legs. once the suspect is put in holding, he drags you into the interrogation room, hoping no one is looking through the mirrored glass. he bends you over the steel table. “pathetic little bunny. gets all hot and bothered just seeing her owner do work. that it, bunny?” you nod, head hitting the table in your eagerness. “want you, sammy!” he sighs, unbuckling his belt, putting his badge on the table. “yeah, yeah. you’re getting me. relax.”
Hey bunny can I secure my spot as 🥀? Also I was thinking about dad! Bf Titus having his girl dress herself as a punishment for being a brat. “You wanna be a big girl big girls pick their own clothes.”
well yes ofc!!
titus danforth x female reader, dadbf!titus, cw: fauxcest
you were bratty the entire day. that’s what shocks you, that you got away with it for so long. you had screamed, cursed, said that your dad was way too controlling, and he had just stood there. he didn’t bend you over. he didn’t slap you across the face. sometimes he smiled. that should have unsettled you at the time, it really should have, but you don’t have the best self preservation skills, or at least that’s what dad says. that’s why you’re not allowed to drive or go out or touch sharp things without supervision.
when bedtime comes around, titus is sitting on your bed. he didn’t supervise your bath tonight. that was also strange. and worse still, no clothes have been laid out. you stamp your foot, fully nude. “you didn’t put my clothes out!” titus looks up from his phone, a flicker of amusement passing across his grey features. “oh? i thought you were a big girl now. that you curse at your old man. that you tell him he’s too controlling. well, big girls get the privilege of picking out their clothes.”
you huff, and titus picks up your stuffed bunny. “you know, big girls also don’t need stuffed animals. guess i’ll have to throw cinnamon away.” you gasp. “no! you wouldn’t.” titus smiles, and you realize for a brief moment that his features seem rather predatory.
your eyes begin to well up. you want cinnamon. you need cinnamon. you’ve held cinnamon through punishments and nightmares and had tea parties with her. “well, you can either be a big girl or a little girl. big girls get to go out. they don’t have to be supervised by daddy all the time. dad doesn’t pick out their clothes or tuck them in or give them special kisses,” he feigns a pout, “little girls, however, do have to be supervised. but they get everything taken care of for them. daddy makes sure their safe. daddy picks their clothes. daddy hugs and kisses and coddles them. daddy keeps their stuffed animals.”
you’re fully crying now, distressed at the idea of losing all the comfort you’ve ever known. titus strokes your hair. “i think being a little girl would be easier, right?” you nod shakily. he smiles, teeth far too sharp, and retrieves a nightgown from you dresser. “see how easy that was? you’re not built for being a big girl, sweetie. you know that.” you exhale as he dresses you, and lean your head into his chest. he pinches your nipple through the fabric.
“now, lay back. daddy’s gonna give you some special attention.”
"Gentle now," Jack's breath tickles your ear, his voice gruff as his stubble scratches your shoulder, "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast."
"For fuck's sake put the teaching voice away, Abbot," Robby grunts from beneath you.
You and Jack were kneeling between his legs, pillow propped under his knee for extra stability. His chest is flush against your back, one guiding hand on your hip while the other fists the silicone cock between your legs, sliding the tip over Robby's hole - lubed and stretched, just wating for you to push in.
"I'm teaching right now aren't I," you can't see his face over your shoulder but you know he's got that smug grin plastered over it when Robby groans in frustration.
Robby's cock is red and leaking, bobbing uselessly against his stomach ever since Jack stretched him open earlier. He'd taken his time to tease his husband, going needlessly slow as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, unable to take your eyes off the show in front of you and nodding along to every instruction.
"Think he's ready , sweets?" Jack asks as he pushes your hips forward ever so slightly.
You nod, turning back to look at him over your shoulder. Jack smiles, indulging you in a quick kiss before turning your chin back to his husband. Both his hands fall on your hips this time, letting you take control.
"Like this?" you ask, pushing forward until the head of your dick stretches past Robby's tight ring of muscle.
"Just like that, watch him, doll. Look at what you do to him."
Robby gasps, flush travelling down his chest. Your cock is somewhere between the size and thickness of the boys, nothing Robby isn't already used to. But his eyes stil roll to the back of his head as you bottom out. Jack reaches down, running his fingers through the growing puddle on Robby's stomach. As soon as the press against your lips, you open your mouth and wrap your tongue around Jack's thick digits, moaning at the salt hits your tongue.
"Look down, sweetheart," his voice is low, only loud enough for you to hear. "See how pathetic he looks?"
"He's not-"
"Shhh," another kiss to your shoulder, "He likes it, baby. Gets off on it. Tell him how needy he looks. Just try it."
You open your mouth, but falter, unsure of what to say, looking at Jack for help.
He clears his throat, calling Robby's eyes back on him. He grips your chin once more, forcing your gaze back down as he starts to bring your hips back towards him. Robby start to pant as Jack helps you find a slow rythm.
"Look at that useless cock, Mike," he grunts. You suck in a breath as Robby's cock twitches, "What a waste, huh, sweets? So big and thick and worthless because he'd rather stay fucked out on yours instead."
You nod slowly, "I-I wanted it inside me today but he didn't let me."
For the record, that was untrue. You were nothing but giddy since your strap on came in, aboslutely buzzing with excitement until you'd gotten the chance to put one of them through the matress - Robby had volunteered first.
"Yeah, Mike? Neglecting our girl?"
Robby whines, back arching off the bed. Jack reaches around you, rubbing his thumb over his slit. It's intoxicating, pulling debauched noises from such a a large man. It fills you with a new confidence as your hips slam against him.
"Look at that, Rob," Jack chuckles, squeezing his hand around the base of Robby's cock, "Her first time and she's already better than you."
Robby starts to lift his hips with yours, moving his hips in tandem. Jack puts a stop to it immediately, pushing you down with one swift shove between your shoulder blades. You hit Robby's body with a swift oof, intensly aware of his cock sandwiched between your bodies.
You feel the head of Jack's dick pushing against your entrance, the familiary stretch punching the air out of your lungs. He's met with no resistance from your slick walls, pushing in all the way until he's flush with your body. You're panting, adjusting to the new sensation when he lifts your head up by your hair so you're raised on your knees once more. You whine, clenching around him as he slips out again, leaving only the tip inside you.
His fingers dig into your hips again, making you rock back on him. Robby moans as your cock follows, getting louder when Jack pushes you forward again.
"C'mon, sweets," Jack grunts, "The only way you're coming tonight is by fucking yourself between us."
I feel like I could imagine Frank scoffing when Jack gives you the princess treatment constantly but he’d definitely get all blushy when Jack gives it to him for the first time. And it honestly surprises everyone. It makes him giddy but he tries to play it off.
18+ mdni OMG OMG… first of all yes, frank gets so exasperated over jack giving you princess treatment as if he doesnt give you princess treatment too!!! frank and robby are both the type to spoil you on the down low then look at you like you have two heads when you proceed to act spoiled.
and uuugh yes!! you’re all by the pool and frank scoffs out “you’re such a princess” after you whine about it being bright out and jack says “stay right here. i’ll go get your sunglasses, babydoll.”
but then jack comes out with both your sunglasses and hands frank his pair “Here, hon, I see you squinting too.” and frank has to work not to sputter and blush
n in the bedroom… frank mutters “fuckin’ princess treatment” bc jack’s licking your clit while you’re in robby’s lap, back to his chest and pussy stuffed w his cock….
poor frank is left off to the side whimpering softly and groping your tits and mouthing at your neck… his dick is leaking and he’s so desperate for friction that he starts rolling his hips and humping robby’s naked thigh….
robby’s content to just let him get off like that but jack gives your clit a kiss then pulls away with a coo. “Poor kid. Look at you. So worked up, huh?” and he shifts over to the side. “Lay back— there you go. Let me help you out.”
frank’s hips shoot up off the bed when jack gets his mouth around the head of his cock <3 “Fuck— Abbot— holy shit”
n’ you grin and breathlessly taunt “What was that about princess treatment, frankie?”
Mouthing Off - Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader
Summary: You and Robby are always fighting as the two day-shift attendings, to the point of screaming matches on the ED floor. After a particularly brutal back-and-forth, it seems like using each other to get off is the only way to settle things.
Tags/Notes: enemies to lovers, hate sex, oral (m & f), rough blowjob, face sitting (riding/grinding/smothering, really), kinda porn without plot, porn without plot with context?
Content: maybe a second of dubcon but it’s more like one of those moments where things reorient
A/N: oops saw a blurb and shit out a fic. shamelessly and consensually stolen from actual icon @spookypeachpitt13 so everyone say thank you!! anyway this is so wildly outside of my comfort zone so i hope it's okay aksdjfh
Word Count: 3.3k
“My office. End of shift.”
The words snarl off Robby’s tongue and you know you’re in for it – or, really, he’s in for it, because you’re ten times as stubborn on your best days. That’s what makes the two of you work as attendings on the same shift. You never take each other’s shit and, fuck, there's a lot to shovel between the two of you.
Today, though, it’s been so bad you’re making the residents shrink and the nurses exchange suspicious glances. It started with a normal disagreement over a course of treatment for someone who’d been in overnight and spiraled the whole day between stab wounds and fevers and car crashes.
And then you and Robby both crossed the line. The unspoken one between you that keeps your disagreements to the medicine (even though ‘the medicine’ often also includes his handwriting on charts [a literal chicken would do better work, Michael], your bedside manner [you don’t have to get every male patient to give you his number], his bedside manner [and you don’t have to show them why hospitals have HR departments], his clothes [you look like June in this year’s ’Lazy Assholes of Pittsburgh’ calendar], your clothes [y’know they make scrubs that don’t fit like spandex, right?], his teaching style [they won’t learn anything if you make them feel like shit], your teaching style [they won’t learn anything if you make them feel invincible]). And so on. And so forth. And on and on and on.
But today? Today went something like this.
MICHAEL: You know that you should’ve taken the exact opposite approach back there, right?
YOU: Funny; it looked an awful lot like he’s going to survive because of my approach. Don’t worry, though. If I wanted the patient dead, I would’ve assigned him to you instead.
MICHAEL: Sure, he'll live, but he’ll always-
YOU: What? Be able to run faster than you because I saved his leg when you would’ve sent it to be chopped off?
MICHAEL: Quality of care isn’t always about whether-
YOU: You just want everyone to be as miserable of a fuck as you are; god forbid I actually prioritize what’s best for my patients instead of-
MICHAEL: If you even finish that sentence, I swear I’ll-
YOU: Oh, I’ve gotta hear this! Go ahead, Robby, what’ll you do to another attending for disagreeing with your genius and making a good call when you were too much of a coward to take a risk? Bend me over your knee? You don’t get to question my approach just because you’ve been practicing medicine since the dark ages.
MICHAEL: And you don’t get to defy my direct orders just because-
YOU: Your orders? Are you fucking serious?
MICHAEL: Yes, I am! You can’t go around making decisions like you’re in charge just because you’ve got half the doctors in the hospital begging to screw you!
Your eyes finally dropped away from his. When they lifted back up, they were a storm. Anger, yes, but hurt, too. He’d never questioned your intelligence or your place as an attending before. Never weaponized your femininity. He knew right away that he’d pushed you further than you could take, past the point of bending.
So you push back, “How about my office right now? Because there’s absolutely no way you’re walking away from me when I need to strangle you.”
Robby huffs, “You know what? Fine. Might as well spare your students the embarrassment of listening to you talk out of your ass another second.”
You pin your lips in a straight line and storm past him toward the offices, where you and he have the pleasure of sharing a thin wall that doesn’t always stop you from arguing while you catch up on paperwork.
Robby slams the door behind himself – locks it – and you’re in his face right away, no meekness or hurt left in your expression anymore as you square up to him, posture totally straight so you can almost look him in the eyes. “You are such a fucking asshole, Robinavitch. How dare you talk to me like that?”
Robby rubs the back of his neck like he does when he knows he’s fucked up but isn’t ready to back off. “Look, I know that last comment was too far, and we both know I didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t change the principle that-”
“You’re just pissed off because you know you were wrong back there and you can’t deal with a woman being better than you.”
Robby takes a step closer to you at that; you can smell his sweat and his fading deodorant. “This has absolutely nothing to do with you being a woman. Don’t even imply that-”
“Like hell it doesn’t,” you scoff. “You’re mad because I made a better decision than you. Because I pissed all over your favorite fire hydrant. But if that had been Abbot or Shen, you would never have chewed them out like you’re trying to here.”
He shoves one hand on the side of your head now, pinning you against the wall without either of you realizing. “Maybe because the two of them have actually proven themselves in my ED.”
You roll your eyes so hard you think they might fall out. “Y’know what, Robinavitch? You need to ask yourself if your dick is really big enough for this kind of fucking macho attitude because I have a sneaking suspicion it isn’t.”
You go to move, to storm off, but Robby’s grabbing your wrist before you can. Your breath catches in your throat as your chest collides with his, your mouths nearly touching. Sure, yeah, several of your fights have turned into makeout sessions (whose haven’t?), but he’s never acted like this. Absolutely no apology in the mean, borderline cruel way his long fingers wrap around your arm and force your hand to his half-hard cock beneath his cargo pants. "What do you think? Big enough for you?"
All the air floods out of the room.
Fuck, it is big. Definitely big enough to back up any bullshit he spews. Big enough to make your mouth water and that’s not the only thing dripping at the thought of what he must look like fully hard. Hot everywhere all of a sudden, you go to yank your hand away but he grips it harder, grinding into your palm and refusing to drop eye contact.
Even as undeniable lust crawls into your chest and cheeks, you scoff, unable to let him get the upper hand. With your meanest sneer, you cut back. “You’re hard from me yelling at you? Got a shame kink or something?”
“More like I’m looking forward to fucking that attitude out of you,” he growls, one hand wrapping around your throat and shoving you against the wall. You’re not scared. It’s Robby. Of course you’re not scared. You fucking hate each other and you spend an hour laughing with him on FaceTime before bed most nights because you both can't stand being alone and only the other understands. But your heart still drops into your stomach at the darkness in his eyes.
When he puts his hands on your shoulders and pushes you down, onto your knees, something hungry inside of you can’t help but let him.
Robby shoves two fingers into your mouth and coos sarcastically when you instinctively wrap your lips around them, “There you go. Useless brat until she’s got something in her mouth.”
You go to pull off so you can snark something back at him, but he grabs the back of your head with his free hand and gags you on his fingers instead. The gesture goes straight to your cunt, hot shame and arousal pooling in your underwear.
“Oh no you don’t,” he tuts. Then he lets go just long enough to let you catch your breath, tugging his cargos down barely enough to fish his cock out of his boxers. When you once again open your mouth to piss him off, he shakes his head and presses the head of his cock to those pretty lips of yours. “Don’t back down now, princess, I’m sure that big mouth of yours can take it.”
A bead of his precum clings to your lower lip and your tongue flicks out to taste it without your consent. The slightly salty, clean taste lights you on fire. So you open your mouth wider and let him slide his cock over your tongue, secretly savoring that rapturous expression he’s trying to suppress. Then, when you can tell you’ve got the power again, you rake your teeth ever so lightly down his shaft and he looses a pathetic, shaky keen so loud he smacks his hand over his mouth in the middle of it.
He glares down at you and hisses, “Seriously?”
When your eyes twinkle back and you hum in amusement, he looks at you with murder in his eyes, grips his fingers into your hair, and fucks your mouth the way you deserve. The way you were trying to provoke him to. His fat, leaking head slams against the back of your throat and you gag around him as your eyes water as his sharp zipper stings against your chin. But you can take it. That’s what he loves about you. You’ll always take whatever he can throw at you and then give it back just as hard.
Robby watches with a sadistic glee as you settle your weight over your ankles, tilt your head slightly, and give him even better access. As his thrusts pick up speed, barely letting you breathe, he pants, “See? Is this so goddamn hard? Shutting up and letting me take charge for five minutes?”
He expects you to grunt some sort of annoyed disapproval, but you don’t. He notices your expression going calm and placid. Lids heavy, jaw completely limp, body calm. He swallows hard and whispers, half a mean chuckle and half a desperate kind of prayer, “Fuck, you’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?”
You’re too far gone to give any response but a satisfied moan that rockets up his spine. Your drool seeps down his balls and onto your scrub top and he’s never seen anything so gorgeous as this. Then he shoves his booted foot between your legs, the leather creating friction against your inner seam right on your clit, and you whimper. The sound is wet and pathetic and needy with his dick stopping you from being able to express anything coherent. When you start to unthinkingly rub your clothed pussy over his shoe, Robby’s cock pulses.
At the sight of you being so goddamn pretty and submissive instead of driving him insane for once, Robby slows his pace, edging himself over your tongue, and murmurs, “Knew you were a good girl under all that attitude.”
You nod greedily, mind quiet for the first time today as you chase that perfect friction and let him control you. It silences everything that had been pissing you off. With his pleasure tightening up, Robby bites back calling you perfect, baby, just right, so good, angel, fuck. He can’t do that when he’s still simmering from today’s fighting. But he does cup your cheek and brush a tear away with his thumb, the gesture so tender it’s out of place.
And when you gaze up at him through watery lashes, he knows he’s done for.
Not just now. Not just this.
Robby doesn’t ask before he cums in your mouth. You didn’t want him to. You want him to demand everything. His bitterness floods your tongue, pump after pump of it, and you dutifully swallow. There’s so much that some of it dribbles down your chin. Once he’s fully soft, Robby kneels down and, while guiding you back to your feet, licks his own cum from your skin. Then he kisses it back into your mouth, his tongue taking dominance over yours, refusing to let you miss out on even a drop of him.
As your brain turns back on, Robby shakes his head, lets out a sharp breath, and tucks himself back into his pants. He looks at your dreamy expression for a second and chuckles. Then, with a gentle kiss to your cheek, he says, “There we go. I can work with this.”
Your familiar anger climbs back up when he moves even a fraction of a step toward the office door.
“Nope, absolutely the fuck not,” you bite at him. Blocking his exit, you point at the carpet. “Get on your back on the floor. We aren’t done here, Michael.”
When he realizes what you’re asking for – demanding, expecting – his knees weaken. Butting heads be damned, he’s definitely thought about those thighs smothering him before, especially when you put another doctor in their place instead of him. So, with wide, blown-black eyes, he lays back obediently, the anticipation making his soft cock twitch, debating how long it needs to come back to life.
You hastily kick out of your scrub bottoms and panties, toss them aside, and jokingly shove the center of his chest as you drop down into his lap. “Now who’s pathetic? On my disgusting office floor waiting to be used like a sex toy.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Robby tries with an eye roll, not convincing at all, “I could get right up and leave you-”
You shove his chest hard this time. So he falls flat on his back. You watch his pupils dilate and his lips part as red crawls into the apples of his cheeks. “That’s more like it. Big bad Doctor Robinabitch just needs to be manhandled.”
All he can do is nod and mutter, “yeah, maybe,” eyes locked to your juicy thighs as you crawl over him. You settle your knees on either side of his head and memorize the borderline pleading expression on his face when he sees your swollen cunt. You’re absolutely glistening because of him. You don’t even pretend you’re worried about breaking his nose or crushing him or whatever you’re ‘supposed’ to do before climbing on a man’s face and riding him like a bronco.
You just demand, “open up,” and drop your weight down onto his waiting mouth. His bear scratches your sensitive inner thighs and his nose nudges the hood of your clit back and- Fuck. Fuck, this isn’t going to take long. Of course Robby’s good with his tongue. He’s so unfairly good at everything. For a second, he takes charge of the moment, wrapping his arms around your hips and eating you out the way he’s dreamed of more times than he’d care to admit. Fuck him for thinking he can just get you off and call it a day. No, you’re taking this.
Without saying anything, you wrench his hands from your waist, pin them above his head, and mount his tongue like you mean it. You keep one hand on his wrists, pushing them hard into the floor, and grab his hair with the other so you cna keep his head tilted at just the right angle. His eyes roll back as he loses the ability to breathe at a regular pace, forced to gasp in air only when you ease up. It’s bliss.
Once you have him where you need him, you find exactly the rhythm you need in no time. Your fingers tighten into his hair, pain zinging from his scalp and down his back harsh enough to make his hips buck. You huff and grunt, “Shut up and take it, you big baby.”
Robby can’t help moaning, which only makes you worse. You rut your clit down on his tongue hard enough that you feel the texture of his tastebuds creating enough roughness to send you to the border of overstimulation right before you cum. You slow your pace ever so slightly when you feel your walls clamping down, working the orgasm out of yourself, so lost in the sensation that you don’t even hear how Robby moans and begs for you to use him to finish. It’s the ridge of his nose and the softness of his lips and the firmness of his tongue and you’re breaking open all over him. You feel your wetness coating his beard as a fresh flood of it comes, thinner and milder and sweeter. Robby groans through your whole orgasm, lapping up your juices until he’s positively drunk.
As you ease off him to sit on his lap, your thighs shake and your chest heaves. Satisfaction weighs heavy in your limbs and you know he feels the same way – spent and placated.
You both stay there, panting, looking at each other, for a few minutes.
There’s the silent understanding that things are different now.
Robby’s eyes soften.
So do yours.
You stand on shaky legs and tug your bottoms back on. He follows right behind.
Then Robby pulls you into a hug. Tight, warm, earnest. You nestle into his chest and breathe him in as he kisses the top of your head. Neither of you speak. What else is there to say?
As he pulls back slightly, arms still around you, Robby cuts you a borderline sheepish gaze. “You know it’s because I respect you, right? The arguing, I mean.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Michael.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Of course I know that.” You flatten your lips into a line, cross your arms over his chest, and stare him down. “I know that you respect me. You wouldn’t even entertain my arguments if you didn’t. But what you said today was still over the line. You can’t talk to me like that in front of my students. You can’t let them think I get advantages because I have great tits.”
“You’re right.” His eyes flick down to your breasts, wishing he’d had the forethought to get you to take them out during…whatever the hell this was. “On both fronts.”
You give him a little self-satisfied smirk and tell him with your hand on the doorknob, “You can apologize by buying me dinner tonight. I like that new place on seventh.”
He gives a shit-eating grin and raises his eyebrows. “Pretty expensive spot.”
You nod and reply, “You owe me a pretty big apology.”
“Deal.” He leans in, places a downright sweet kiss on your lips, and murmurs, “Can I eat you for dessert?”
You waggle your eyebrows playfully. “Want seconds already?”
He tugs you close by the waist and kisses you hard. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“So greedy,” you tease against his lips. When he goes to kiss you again, you dodge him, eyeing him with so much tease in your expression he can hardly stand it. “Say ‘please, doctor.’”
“You fucking brat.” But he can still taste the champagne of your orgasm on his lips and he needs more, plain and simple. He’ll get hungover without another taste. So he puts on a pouty face and does as you ask in a gentle, small voice: “Please, doctor.”
“Now that’s a good boy.” You pat his face affectionately, halfway to a slap. “I’ll wait by that ugly car of yours after handoff.”
He balks. “That ‘ugly car’ is a Bentley.”
You stand on your toes and kiss his forehead “And the fact that you spent six figures on it only makes you look dumber. I’ll see you soon.”
Reader is provoking Jack and he's trying to stay strong but is so close to breaking. Reader is acting super innocent but "accidentally" sends Jack a nude and it finally breaks Jack.
stepcest, spanking, mean!jack, breeding kink if you squint//1.4k
he catches you so fucking fast. at first he tolerates it with a clenched jaw and gritted teeth, not wanting to reward your bratty behavior.
it starts with the tiny shorts that you roll the waistband of to make them even shorter, the curves of your ass cheeks totally on display as you bend over to put on your shoes in the morning. the cropped-too-short tees that he knows you took scissors to yourself, no fucking bra, your tits bouncing out when you reach on your tippy toes to grab something from a high up counter that jack definitely would've gotten if you'd asked instead of wanting to flash him.
when you don't get what you want after a week, you make it worse for him. there's the batted lashes, the eye contact as you lick popsicle juice from your hand, the pouty lips when he won't give in to something.
he finally snaps when you push it too far. he's in his office, trying to brute force his way through paperwork with his reading glasses perched on his nose, when his phone pings. you're the only person who goes through his do not disturb settings, so he checks it right away. if you're texting him from two doors down, you probably just need him to grab something for you and he really doesn't mind doing it for his baby.
then he opens the text. it's a shot of your ass, framed out by a teeny black thong. you've twisted to take it, your waist and the backs of your thighs accentuated by the angle. looking forward to our date xo
he storms over to your bedroom, pleased to find the door not only unlocked but slightly cracked open. an invitation. you're still in the same position, laying on your stomach wearing just that goddamn thong and a cropped tee -- this one he recognizes as his, by the way, from a charity run a few years ago.
you turn to face him with a big smile, not caring at all that he's seeing you basically naked. "hi, daddy! how are-"
without a word, he yanks you to the end of the bed by the hips, his strong hands unrelenting. he tugs your panties down so hard they stretch and threaten to snap. you try to wriggle away from him but he grunts, "stop squirming, you useless slut. be good."
biting your lower lip, you whimper out, "daddy, what are you doing?"
"you think i don’t know what you've been doing?" his hand makes brutal contact with your ass and you let out a shocked, hiccuping gasp. "honey, girls have been begging for my cock since before you were born."
the next time he spanks you, the sound that comes from your mouth betrays the truth: it's a needy, breathy moan.
"so I'm right, huh?" he manuevers to pull off your shirt, too, manhandling it around your limbs with a roughess that turns your brain firmly into the off position. when he returns to his position behind you, he shoves your knees forward so you're presenting your ass to him. you hear him undo the zipper of his jeans and your mouth waters. he challenges you, "tell me what you want and you can have it. admit what a fucking slut you've been."
"I don't know what you're-"
"don't. don't lie to me." the fat head of his cock presses your sloppy entrance and your eyes widen. you hadn't been expecting him to be that big. from just the tip, you can tell he'll split you open. "I raised you better than that, princess." his cock slides forward, nudging your clit, and you whine for more. as he wets himself with your juices, bumbing your clit over and over, he offers, "I want to give you want you need. you're my baby girl and that's my job. want to make you happy. but I can only do that if you're honest with me. so tell me you've been trying to get me to fuck you. admit it."
it takes you a minute to find the words -- he's being really, really distracting with his hands rubbing your waist and hips and ass -- but you manage to because the desire for him outweighs the hot shame in your cheeks. you whimper into your pillow, "I want you to fuck me."
he grabs your hair and yanks your head back, sneering, "aw, you can do better than that. if you want it, ask nicely."
you arch your back and try to get at him, but the iron grip against your scalp makes it impossible. you choke out, "please give me your cock, dad. please."
"that's more like it," he growls. then he shoves into you in one sharp thrust, not particularly caring if you're completely ready or not. it stings for a second but subsides quickly, your eager wet pussy needing to let him in. he can't believe how good you feel, cursing himself for holding out this long when he could've had you as soon as he wanted. "now fucking take it, okay? be good for me."
you nod against the bed, eyebrows pinching together and mouth falling open while he pounds you at an unrelenting pace. using you how he wants. your body is an afterthought. without even thinking, your dominant hand travels between your thighs to try to give your poor throbbing clit some relief.
"no," jack snarls. "not when you're been such a brat." he grabs your hand and wrenches it behind your back, twisting your wrist almost to the point of injury, the pain right at that spot that makes your vision go blurry with tears while your cunt clamps down with want. starting to sound breathy, like he's on the verge of losing control, he admonishes, "you could've just used your words and asked daddy for what you wanted, but instead you've been distracting me and toying with me like I'm not the one in charge here."
"I'm sorry, Jackie," you cry as he starts to spank you again. "I should've been better. I'm so sorry."
the pain is immense and overwhelming because he's not holding back, not at all, the full force of those army muscles turning your backside black and blue. when you just take it though, being so good without complaining, jack's expression softens. he slows his thrusts and wraps his dominant hand around your abdomen, fingers dropping to your aching clit.
rubbing you hard and fast, feeling your thighs twitch and your stomach clenching, he prompts, "what do you say?"
you gasp out while the pleasure rewires your brain, "thank you, daddy."
he prods, slowing his fingers to keep you on the edge. "and? what do I like to hear more than anything?"
looking over your shoulder with tear-stained cheeks, you catch his hazel eyes and tell him so earnestly it makes his heart hurt, "i love you. love you more than anything. need you to take care of you. need you to show me how to be good. love you."
"there's my sweet baby," he coos. "you know you can have whatever you want if you just listen and obey."
you nod eagerly as your face scrunches up, orgasm tightening because of his expert fingers and his unrelenting cock. "I'll be good from now on. promise. be your good girl forever."
he angles his hips to hit you perfectly, matching the pace of his fingers, making your whole body shake. "then you can cum for me, princess."
you don't really have a choice, anyway. your body listens to him. yields to him. your cunt clenches around his cock and you let out an animalistic wail that your neighbors can probably hear. the added wetness and tightness has Jack throwing his head back in ecstasy, savoring each second he has inside of you for the very first time.
he groans as he starts to lose himself, "now, if you're such a whore that you're taking pictures like that and wearing your slutty clothes, are you on birth control?"
unable to speak in the wake of the orgasm, you shake your head and squeak out, "uh-uh."
"good." after a few more hard pumps, he cums in your pussy without warning and without care, slapping your ass hard as he does. with his warmth coating your insides, he huffs, "better fucking take. something needs to keep your here with me behaving yourself."
🍒🍏🧅 for the “build a ficlet” thing if you’re still doing them!
*rubs my hands together* yeah i can see the vision here
virginity loss/corruption/crying/jack abbot
tw: cherry chaser icky yucky man jack abbot, coercion/manipulation/dubcon type beat, uhhh he cums inside without asking also because i am who i am and who i am is a yucky monster
smut smut smut
He knows he's not supposed to overhear it, but he wants to, so he does. He listens in on your conversations with the other med students regularly, having picked you out of the lineup as soon as your class came in. These days, he can smell inexperience on women like their deodorant and dry shampoo at the beginning of the night shift. He can sense it in your nervous stuttering laughs, you averted eyes, your desperate need for approval.
You're giggling in hushed tones with Javadi when you admit that you're a virgin. Jack has to take a deep breath to steady himself as the sweet surge of confirmation makes his cock twitch. He heads to the locker room right away, acting like he didn't hear a thing.
For the first time in a couple months, Jack Abbot takes the pocket-sized black moleskin notebook from his backpack. He rolls his shoulders as he flips through it, going toa page near the back which follows sections labeled 'Anbar,' 'Baghdad,' 'Drexel,' 'Tufts,' 'Boston,' and 'Pittsburgh.' The book is old; he's had it since he enlisted at 18, a chronicle of his entire adult life. It started as an admittedly fucked-up game they all played, seeing who could bang the most locals in Iraq before they got written up for it. Cherry chasing, his buddies called it.
For Jack, though, it had evolved. It stopped being a game and became a conquest. An ego trip. Something he needs.
His pen hovers over the shortest list, labeled 'PTMC'; he tries not to be too sloppy at work, so he's kept it to the women who've basically fallen into his lap. After all, one of the rules is that he has to write the initials before he fucks them. A sort of promise to himself. He remembers each of them as his finger traces down the page to the next free line.
P.D.C. ✔
E.W. ✔
S.M. ✔
His pen hovers for only a second before he scratches down your initials next.
It doesn't take long for Jack to get you in his apartment. He waited a couple weeks until he saw you had a particularly hard day and all he did was invite you out for a few drinks. Then he pretended he didn't know his favorite bar closed early that day and offered to bring you up to his place instead.
And you'd accepted.
You sweet, sweet thing.
Now you're on his leather couch in tears, tucked under his arm as he comforts you, sniveling your way through some story he's only half paying attention to. He waits for exactly the right moment, rubbing your back gently, telling you it's okay to cry, saying you're safe with him, affirming your every fear.
Then you say it: "You're so sweet, Dr. Abbot. Everybody told me to watch out for you, but you're so nice."
Jack knows how to make his eyes kind, his hands soft, his lips gentle. And he lies, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "It's just for you, sweetheart."
Your eyes widen in the most adorable way, like you've never even thought of yourself as being attractive to men. "Wh-What do you mean?"
So Jack kisses you. He doesn't know if it's your first kiss or not, but, regardless, he makes sure it's warm and tender and intense. Hand cupping your face, tongue parting your lips, breaths speeding up. He presses his forehead to yours. "That's what I mean."
You can't even get out a surprised 'oh' before he's kissing you again. And, god, it does feel really, really good to kiss him. You'd never noticed before how strong Jack's arms were, but now he's maneuvering you into his lap and deepening the kiss and you're getting dizzy with the feeling of being wanted. You feel his cock hardening beneath his scrubs and you stiffen up.
Jack pulls back right away. He knows this step. The careful moment he has to handle just right. He adds as much honey to his voice as he can manage as he asks, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You pinch your eyes shut and stammer, "It's just that I've- I've never-"
Jack feigns surprise as your voice tumbles away into shame. "You're a virgin?"
You nod, cheeks absolutely flaming pink, and stare down at your socks. You'd taken off your shoes to be polite and now you feel so stupid for doing it. Maybe you could've made a quick escape and pretended this never happened, but there's no casual, sexy way to struggle to tug your sneakers back on in tears.
When Jack hears you sniffle, "Hey, wait, listen to me a sec."
Your eyes flutter up to his. Water clings to your pretty lashes. "What is it? Please don't make fun of me. I couldn't take that right now.
Jack puts his hand on your waist. Firm. Comforting. Clear. "Baby, there's nothing wrong with being inexperienced. It's just like school; all you need is the right teacher." His first finger drags underneath your jaw and he holds your chin with his thumb. "How about you let me teach you?"
Heat's building between your legs and you feel an unfamiliar sensation twisting up in your belly. His hands are so strong, his eyes so caring. And he's so handsome. And you're getting really tired of being the only girl in every room who still hasn't lost it. You touch your hand to his chest (his firm chest) and gently say, "I- I'm not sure I'm ready."
"Nobody ever feels ready for their first time," he chuckles, like it's a fact. There's no arguing with Dr. Abbot. He pulls you in close, an embrace, and rubs your back again. "I'll be so gentle with you, baby," he murmurs against your ear, hands sliding up underneath your top and massaging your hips. "I'll take such good care of you. Get you off before I even take my clothes off, just like a man should, promise. Trust me, kid, there's not a man on earth who'll take his time with you the way I will." Your head's starting to spin as he says, "Come to bed with me if you want me."
And you're standing up with him. You're not even completely sure why you're doing it, but Jack's authority and touch and words have you tumbling into his bed within thirty seconds.
With you on your back, Jack kneels between your legs and orders, "Show me what you do when you touch yourself."
"I- I don't do that."
Jack groans. He can't help himself. He shoves his hand unceremoniously down the front of your scrub pants, unable to resist any longer, and hovers his fingers over your clit. He can practically hear your heart rate jumping into hyper speed as he confirms, "Nobody's ever touched you here?"
You whisper, not sure if you want to buck your hips up to chase his fingers or hide under a rock, "Nobody."
And then Jack Abbot becomes the first. Something primal takes over him; he truly can't control himself when he knows a girl's truly never experienced anything. Almost everyone's at least masturbated before once they hit adulthood. But your pussy's completely untouched and he's going to change that.
When he parts your soft folds, he groans, "For someone so nervous, you're awfully wet, sweetheart."
Your voice perks up. "That's good?"
Yeah, he's got you right where he needs you. That need for praise, almost pathological, compulsive, tends to get him what he wants when it comes to girls like you. He chuckles softly, "Baby, that's so good. Means you like me as much as I like you."
When he's rubbing your clit, that makes perfect sense. With his other hand, Jack tugs off your bottoms and tosses them aside. At the same time, he urges, "Go ahead and take your top off for me. Wanna see how beautiful you are."
Reluctantly, nervous about your body, you do it, taking off your scrub top first and then your undershirt. The sight of you in just a gray cotton bra, a little white bow at the center, is enough to make his cock leak against his boxers. His patience at not being inside you is wearing thin, so he pushes his first finger -- slowly, carefully -- inside of your pussy. You moan just like he'd hoped, high-pitched and surprised and needy. Jack coos, "There you go. So pretty. Such a good girl for me."
Your pussy clenches up softly when he says that. His eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels your body begging for more from him. He removes his finger just long enough to wrap his arms around your legs and yank you to the end of his bed.
Then his mouth's on you. You've never felt anything like it. His tongue is so different from his fingers, more curious, more probing, more intense. His middle finger goes back inside of you, more urgent now, the softness of his tongue making sure you don't feel any stinging as he adds a second one.
Jack licks a broad stripe up your pussy and you outright gasp at the first contact with your clit. His dark laugh into your body makes you writhe beneath him. So he uses his free hand to hold you down hard, his palm pressing over your abdomen, adding pressure to the place where you feel his fingers curling against you.
Jack just lets himself enjoy you. By now, he's made so many women cum with his tongue that he can go on autopilot, focusing on memorizing the rapture that is a virgin in the first throes of pleasure. He watches as you cover your face, fighting that deep down shame telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially him. He listens to your pathetic uh uh uh as your thighs twitch and your blush darkens. He tastes your sweetness, your tartness, your bitterness.
When your thighs start to tremble around his head, he sighs like he's died and gone to heaven. It's only a matter of time now. You don't speak; virgins can never manage dirty talk. You manage to whimper out something like 'I- I think I'm-' before he's forcing you over the edge to your first ever orgasm. It's a strong one, too, pulsing hard around his fingers as he laps you up.
While you work through the aftershocks, Jack stands and makes quick work of his clothes and prosthetic. You haven't even processed his gorgeous nakedness before he's manhandling you backwards, shoving a pillow under your hips to prop you up, fisting his hard cock that looks way too big to fit inside of you.
Then you realize what's happening. You reach out to touch his thigh and babble, "D'you- you have a-"
He's shaking his head and lining up his cock with your entrance before you can even get the question out. Stupid fucking question. He hates that question. Half the time, girls don't even think about it their first time. Keeping his voice firm and commanding but perfectly loving, he shakes his head and lies again, "Been a long time since I've been with anyone. But it's your first time and I'm clean, honey, we don't need that. You trust me, don't you?"
Eyebrows pinched together in aroused confusion, you nod slowly. You feel the bump of his slick cock head against your clit and it's making you blissfully shaky. "Of course I do."
Jack touches your cheek with his hand and smiles. "Good girl."
You melt at the praise. It steals any other protests from your lungs.
And then Jack's pushing his cock inside of you. He always takes that first thrust slowly, agonizingly slow, making sure it doesn't hurt, making sure it feels good. Memorizing the exact look on your face when you change your identity from 'virgin' at least. After all, a big part of the ego high for Jack is ensuring you'll compare every single sexual experience to this and rate it as worse, spending the rest of your life dreaming about the hunky ER doctor who popped your cherry.
God, your cunt. When Jack's finally fully sheathed inside of you, he takes a second to savor it. To feel your pussy's greedy little flutters after your first orgasm. To watch your oxytocin-flooded eyes looking up at him like he's your savior. To listen to your gasping, hitching breaths as you adjust to something filling you for the very first time.
Jack strokes your outer thigh gently and asks, "Feeling good, baby?
"S-so good," you squeak out. You take his hand in yours and the only thing you can say is, "More."
Jack laughs and leans down, caging you between his arms and kissing you as he starts to roll his hips forward into you. "Never even had it and already greedy for cock, huh?"
You giggle and cover your eyes with your forearm.
But he stops you, pinning your wrist up above your head. "I need to look at you. Can't get off unless I'm looking in my girl's eyes."
It sounds sweet to you, but Jack knows it isn't. He just wants to see every thought written on your face as you decide that, yes, you love being fucked by him. Sex really is all it's cracked up to be and Jack Abbot is the one who taught you that fact.
He doesn't ask before he cums inside of you, coating your walls with his claim, permanently imprinted on your body and mind. He doesn't check if you're on birth control and doesn't care, just follows his pleasure through those final few moments with you, murmuring how good you are, how pretty, how perfect the entire time.
He collapses onto his side, grinning like an idiot, and you curl onto his chest right away, peppering the side of his face with sweet kisses.
"Y'know, it's probably best we don't tell anyone about this," he muses, finger tracing circles up your bare side. "I could lose my job if anyone knew what we just did."
You're half asleep already but hum contentedly, "Of course, Jack. I understand."
"If a knot isn't so big, Michael, why don't you show me by taking Jack's?"
They were perhaps not your most eloquent words, but boy are you glad you said them because—
“Fuck!” Michael fists his hands in the sheets, red in the face and panting between moans. “Wait, wait, wait!”
“Dunno if I can," Jack pants. He's got Michael face-down, ass-up on the very bed you share with the latter. "Your– ah, shit –your ass is a fuckin' dream, brother."
Michael groans loudly, shoving his face back into the bed. Leaning forward from your spot near the pillows, you click your tongue. Michael's head shoots up instantly as his wide distant eyes scramble to find you.
"Please, I get it," he gasps. "The knot's too much. I won't–"
Jack lets out a booming laugh, not faltering even slightly in his thrusts, "The knot? I'm not even close to poppin' a knot." With a harsh slap, Jack slams his hand down on the plump of Michael's ass, "Is my cock really too much for you? I thought you were a tough guy, Mike. Tsk-tsk."
Michael moans, which turns into something that sounds a lot like a sob.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" You soothe mockingly, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from Michael's forehead. "Isn't that why you're letting yourself get bent over like this?"
Michael leans into your touch, humming softly. He tilts his head fully towards you, but instead of the comfort he seeks, you pat him twice on the cheek and withdraw your touch.
"But," you shrug, "I suppose if it's too much, you can just give up. I mean, it's not like I really need your knot." Then, smirking, "But by the way you're moaning like a bitch in heat, I'd guess you need Jack's."
jack abbot who doesnt jerk off being he doesn’t really have the time, and if he did, he would much rather be fucking cum deep into his girl rather than his hand. so each time you guys fuck, usually a few days apart because of his work schedule, his loads are huge and sticky and thick. makes a huge fucking mess, which, of course, then has to be cleaned up by the one who made it <3
robby in my head is so stoic and strict and just rarely ever folds however.... there's something about reader pouting and calling him daddy in a warbly voice that just folds him like a fucking lawnchair..... obviously in a robby way
a quiet "i'm really sorry daddy, i won't do it again" through pouty lips with teary eyes has him stroking your face and going "alright honey, you're fine, i know you won't" as he starts to ease up on whatever cruel thing he was doing to you. bonus for him making you pout by squeezing your cheeks together when he's feeling mean.
18+ mdni tw: face slapping wait… wait wait wait wait…. this is so good….. i have 2 distinct thoughts:
sweet robby who lessens a punishment when you get genuinely pouty and guilty!! he's not one to totally go back on it the way jack might, but despite what he says he obviously has a huge soft spot for you. when he tells you you're getting 15 and you're crying and apologizing so sweetly by 10 he definitely takes it super easy for the last few hits!! he'll give you a break, massage your stinging ass with his big hand and say "I know, sweetheart. Thank you for apologizing. You're such a good girl. Just gotta finish 'em out, okay?" He nods along condescendingly as you tearfully shake your head. "You'll be alright, you can take it. "
on the flip side... mean!robby when he catches on to you trying to sweet talk him to get off easy... you know sometimes he folds so when you're feeling slick one night you blink up at him with a pout and a whine that's a little too cute and reverent ""M sorry, daddy, I promise I'll be good"
and he spanks your ass again then raises a brow at you. gives you a faux sympathetic pout. “Think that’s gonna work on me, sweetheart?" His other hand grasps your cheeks, squeezes to make your lips jut out further. "This little sad face? Not quite. Here, let daddy help you.”
next thing you know his palm making swift contact with your cheek. Your head jerks to the side, and you whimper softly as your cheek stings and hot tears prick your eyes. "There we go, get those tears going. Maybe that'll work, huh?"
cw: jester x king, power imbalance, gn!jester, m!receiving oral sex, cum swallowing, semi-public sex, degradation, mentions of violence, 18+ minors dni
the king looked down the bridge of his nose judgmentally at the jester performing in the center of the throne hall. they had cycled through various acts, though their juggling nor their illusions were entertaining the king. he was growing bored and his mind was wandering, thinking of a request that would keep his attention.
the queen would typically accompany the king to watch the jester's tricks, but this night, the king requested a private show. it wasn't often that the king wanted to be entertained alone, and when the jester received the message earlier that day, they began anxiously planning their routine. the queen was much easier to please.
the king's disapproving expression deepened the longer the jester performed. the final straw was the jester, who's desperate attempt at a flip failed, and they landed on their backside on the glossed floor. the bells of their hat jingled with the impact.
"that's enough!" the king bellowed, booming voice echoing through the hall. the jester froze and swallowed thickly, nervous at what the consequences of a poor performance would be.
the jester scrambled to their knees and bowed, touching their painted forehead to the floor. "i-i'm sorry, your majesty. i beg your forgiveness."
"your perfomance was disgraceful," the king bit. “come here.” he pointed to the landing in front of his throne.
frantically rising to their feet, the jester ran up the stairs to the throne, and knelt down again. the king reached for them and instead of striking them, as the jester had been bracing for, the king firmly gripped their face.
“you will not be dismissed until you have satisfied me,” he said firmly. the jester nodded the best they could. “and since you’re clearly a shameful excuse for an entertainer, i’m going to entertain myself.”
the king released the jester’s face, then fumbled with the front of his pants to free his flaccid cock. the jester’s eyes windened, but they did not resist as the king fed them. his cock swelled as it rested on the jester’s tongue, and before long, he was at full hardness.
the jester worked their mouth over the king’s length, trying their best not to choke or gag on the impressive size. they had already disappointed the king once, and they feared what would happen if they were to do it again.
the king didn’t speak; he only made low grunts and groans each time the head of his cock hit the back of the jester’s tight throat. the jester obediently allowed their mouth to be taken, used for their majesty’s pleasure.
just as the jester realized how sore their knees, back, and jaw were from holding the position, the king announced that he was near orgasm. “swallow,” the king ordered. the jester knew not to disobey, and when the king filled their mouth with hot ropes of thick cum, they instinctively drank it down.
there was no praise to be given afterward. the king tucked his softening dick back into his trousers and dismissed the jester without thanks or a wish of a good night. the jester supposed that was merciful. any other servant who performed as poorly as they did surely would have been fired, if not whipped for their disobedience.
“thank you, your majesty,” the jester bowed before scurrying back to their quarters with the bitter taste of the king in their mouth.
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
