He rarely yielded control, rarely let the mask fall away from that cool and aloof exterior to reveal the need that bubbled beneath the surface. Always, he needed to have the upper hand, needed to be the one at the helm to manipulate a situation to best suit him and his wants. Losing control was dangerous, it could betray a weakness that lead to his downfall, so he never yielded it. Not once.
Until you.
You were the exception, the outlier to his golden rule, and you knew it. You knew that all it took was calling Loki your good boy in that low, sultry voice and he would melt at your feet. He would kneel before you in the perfect picture of submission, waiting for your next command, waiting to see how you would play with his body.
You knew he loved it, knew that no matter how much Loki got off on being the one in control, he craved to submit just as much. He craved the praise and making his body an instrument of your pleasure.
He craved being your toy.
“You do, don’t you?” you purred, dragging a single firm fingernail down the planes of his muscled chest, delighting in how he shivered beneath the barest hint of your touch. “You enjoy being my toy.”
He nodded eagerly, sending his curls dancing on the pillow where they had fanned out like a midnight halo around him. He looked beautiful like this, you thought. Spread out like a sin before you, wrists secured to the bedframe with emerald green silk and legs slightly askew in the mess of white sheets.
Your Asgardian whore.
His cock was already stiff and angry, resting neglected against his toned stomach while you teased him, ignoring the pleading look in those big green eyes that begged you for just a single touch, a single stroke. Tonight, his pleasure was in your hands, something you weren’t keen on giving up too soon.
At his silence, two fingers curled around a peaked nipple, twisting fiercely in a silent command. “Answer me,” you said sweetly.
His reply was immediate, almost panicked. “ ‘es, ‘Mis’ess,” he said, his deep voice garbled and wet around the black leather ball snug between his lips.
Smiling your approval, you touched two fingers to his lips, smearing the escaped drool around them which only had him moan shamelessly and tug against his restraints. With a faint breath of laughter, you leaned in to lick along his jaw. “My good boy,” you murmured quietly, feeling his chest puff up with pride at your praise.
It was praise that you would easily bestow on him again and again. He was your good boy.
Gently, you grazed your teeth along his strong jaw before moving to suck and bite at the long column of his neck, paying particular attention to the sweet spot just below his left ear. The gentle nip of your teeth was enough to pull another whorish moan from the depths of his throat, and you felt him shift restlessly in the tangle of sheets, your name beginning to sound on his tongue like an ancient prayer but one that his lust addled brain refused to properly form.
It only spurred you on.
Making sure that every wet kiss lingered on his cool skin like the remnants of a dream, you moved slowly down his collarbone to his chest, flicking your tongue teasingly over the nipple you had only just released. Loki whined behind the gag, his back arching off the sheets to chase the warmth of your mouth. Again you teased your tongue over it and made sure to gently nip it between your teeth if nothing else to see his reaction.
He inhaled deeply, a deep groan spilling around black leather. “ ‘uck!” he cursed, his head tilting back against the pile of pillows propping his head up.
You grinned wickedly at him and his eyes were wide as the shifted back to yours, as if he had accidentally divulged one of his deepest secrets. “I had no idea you enjoyed that, my love,” you taunted him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you cooed at him, easily reaching out your hand to the drawer of the cabinet beside your bed, feeling around until your fingers met the cold chain of the nipple clamps hidden at the back.
When you pulled them free, the metal clinking melodiously against the wood and glinting in the half light of the room, Loki’s cock twitched against his stomach to betray his excitement.
You let them sway between your fingers, the black plastic edges looking menacing as they stilled in the air. “Would you like to wear these tonight?” you asked sweetly.
He nodded just as eagerly as before, and his cheeks grew pinker with each passing second . “‘es, Mis’ess. ‘ease.”
With your free hand, you cupped his cheek, running your thumb softly along the sharp line of his cheekbone. You swore you felt him press his cheek into your palm. “Always such a good boy for me,” you cooed, grinning when his hips lifted off the bed at your praise, his swollen cock crying out for the smallest hint of attention.
Attention that you weren’t yet ready to give him.
Taking care to not so much as brush against it, you leaned in to nip another bite to his jaw before moving to settle between his splayed thighs. His eyes followed your every movement, rolling back in his head when you stretched up to begin sucking mark after mark into his collarbone and over the expanse of his powerful chest - leaving no doubt to anyone who he belonged to. Your hands ran teasingly along his sides and over his broad shoulders and you ensured to run your nails along his skin on the journey back. He moaned audibly with each nip of your teeth and run of your hands, each vibration of his chest sending fresh warmth swirling between your thighs.
His moans were music you could listen to forever.
When his eyes fluttered close at the pleasure of your touch, you picked up the clamps, wordlessly placing one on a peaked nipple, then the other, and the deep, almost primal, groan that tumbled like a wave from him was almost enough to make you unravel there and then. His chest expanded with the deep breath he took to centre himself and his hands balled into tight fists in the air, his biceps straining above his head.
Gently, you flicked the clamp pinching one nipple, pulling a sharp, startled gasp from your lover. “What do you say?” you sang at him.
Loki didn’t miss a beat. “‘hank ‘ou, Mis’ess!” he said, attempting to suck back the drool that was steadily running down his pale chin.
You let your hand close around his cock, giving him one quick stroke that had something between a sob and a moan tumble from his lips. “Good boy.”
His hips bucked repeatedly off the mattress when you unfolded your hand from around him, a continuous, unbroken moan filling the silence. “ ‘ease. ‘Ease!” he begged, those big green eyes pleading with you for more friction, friction that you had been denying him for close to an hour.
Oh, he had started off bratty and acted as though he were unfazed by your lack of attention, refusing to so much as utter “please,” so you had played along. If he didn’t care if you touched him, then you wouldn’t touch him.
He had very quickly began to beg.
“Not yet,” you replied, giving the chain of the clamps a gentle tug.
He groaned with disappointment, a sound that melted into a pitiful cry, and lifted his hips in one final plea before falling back to the mattress with a quiet flump.
“Such a drama queen, my love. It hasn’t even been an hour yet,” you teased him, returning your lips to his stomach and feeling his displeased gaze lingering heavily on your every move.
Slowly, you continued a path of lovebites over his pale skin, wanting to mark as much of his beautiful body as possible. You inched tauntingly closer to his twitching cock, feeling him tense in anticipation beneath you when it was only centimetres from your warm, inviting mouth, bracing for the glorious feel of your lips finally wrapping around him, and whining loudly when you instead changed course to trail your lips down his thigh.
His legs quivered with each languid kiss you placed on them, slender muscles jumping and rippling to betray how impossibly aroused he was. You continued to lazily mark him, each buck of his hips and wanton moan only fanning the flames of your own desire. You longed to have him, to have his cock plunging into you to claim you over and over, but you held out, wanting to see how much teasing he could take before he cracked, to see how long it would take him.
The answer was seven minutes.
You knew he was about to begin begging before he even made a sound, the constant rolling of his hips, the straining of his arms against the restraints, and the quiet little cries that fell like spring rain betraying him.
“ ‘Ease. “Ease, Mis’ess,” he begged softly, his chest heaving with every breath.
“Please, what?” you asked, threading the thin golden chain of the clamps through your fingers and pulling it up, causing Loki to cry out, a loud gurgle of sound that melted into a stream of short, sharp pants. “What is it you want, my love?”
His eyes were squeezed shut against the sharp pinch of pain the clamps were causing him, but you could still see the wheels of his brain turning furiously, trying to determine the right answer to give you.
And what might happen if he gave you the wrong one.
“‘uh ‘ease ‘ou,” he answered eventually, his eyes shooting open at the same the first word left his lips, settling on yours and desperately seeking your approval.
“To please me?” you repeated, still tugging lightly on the thin golden chain and making him groan. “And what if it pleases me to leave you like this?” You motioned to his weeping cock, still lying ignored against his stomach.
A strangled little whine escaped him while his hands balled into tight fists and you saw him swallow thickly. “‘Ease,” he begged again, turning pleading eyes to you.
Running a hand lazily over his chest, you stretched down to place a kiss on his cheek, hearing his quiet, content sigh when you did. “You’ve been so good for me tonight that I think you deserve a little reward,” you murmured, stroking his cheek with one hand.
Instant relief lit up his eyes and his entire face softened at the promise of release. You were almost tempted to ride him to an explosive finish there and then
But not yet. You weren’t finished playing with him yet.
Wordlessly, you reached back into the drawer that held only a selection of your toys to retrieve the baby blue wand that sat right at the front. At seeing it clasped in your hand, Loki shivered violently before you. You held the wand still in your hand, not breaking eye contact with Loki when you clicked the button that sent it vibrating powerfully in your grip.
His groan echoed with desperation, and you watched his biceps strain as he pulled against the restraints, so hard that you feared the bed might collapse beneath you both. You rested the toy on his stomach, just above the tip of his cock, listening with delight to the high pitched whine that fell from him when you didn’t move it.
“‘Ease, Mis’ess…’ease…’m,” he stuttered out, cheeks now a vibrant pink with the intensity of his arousal.
You, though, continued to play stupid. “Please, what? I don’t know what you want, my love,” you taunted him, moving the vibe in little circles around his stomach.
Loki groaned. “‘ower, ‘ease,” he begged.
You placed the wand on his thigh. “Lower? Like here?”
He raised his head from the pillow, only to let it fall roughly back out of utter frustration. “‘igher.”
Biting back a smirk you rested the wand on his hard, dripping cock, running it slowly, teasingly, along the length from base to tip. Loki’s back arched perfectly off the mattress, already seeking more pleasure than you were giving him. His moans were indecipherable, any words reduced to a stream of broken, jumbled sounds from behind the gag. You continued moving the wand along his cock, pausing intently on his sensitive head, something that had him shout out so loudly that it actually startled you.
“When you’re close I want you to say “please stop, Mistress.” Do you understand?” you told him slowly, though not easing any of the pressure you were placing on the wand.
He didn’t answer, only nodded vigorously against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut at the unrelenting force of the wand that you continued to slide over him, ensuring not to miss an inch of his beautiful cock. He writhed between the sheets, seeking any way to channel the waves of pleasure that you knew were crashing over him, and the moans that tumbled from him in an unbroken chorus became all the more depraved.
“Listen to you,” you said after a minute. “Maybe I should call you my whore instead of my prince with the way you’re moaning,” you teased him, watching his hips lift off the bed. You smirked. “Oh, you’d like that, would you? Me calling you my whore?”
He nodded again, speech lost to him as his orgasm continued to build to a crescendo inside him. His breathing was laboured and you could see plainly every muscle in his body tensing. He was so, so close.
“‘Ease ‘op, Mis’ess!” he burst out barely a minute later and you quickly pulled the vibe off his cock. He was breathing heavily through his nose and you saw a single tear of frustration leak from the corner of his eye.
Your beautiful Asgardian whore.
You stretched up to place another kiss on his cheek, making sure to brush away the stray tear with your lips. “You did so good, my love. I’m so proud of you,” you praised him, running your free hand across his stomach. “This time,” you moved back down to his cock, “I want my whore to come for me. Can you do that?”
Loki nodded eagerly, his black curls dancing on the white pillow. “‘Es, Mis’ess.”
“Good boy,” you said softly, and placed the wand back on his cock.
It didn’t take long to build him up, to have him thrashing in the sheets and moaning and whining your name as best he could around the leather. He looked like sin as he lost himself to the building force of his release, his breathing coming hard and fast and hips lifted off the mattress to press his tortured cock against the vibrations of the wand.
“‘M….’gon…mmm…’ease!” he begged, his eyes wild with desperation, for permission.
“Yes,” you said easily, quickly reaching for the chain of the clamps. “Come for me like the whore you are.”
In the same second that he toppled over into his climax, you ripped the clamps from his nipples, and the cry that left him rang loudly around the room. He bucked wildly, grunted, and moaned continuously, chasing every drop of pleasure that you were granting him until his stomach was coated with his own seed. His orgasm wracked through him until, eventually, he fell back spent against the pile of silk pillows, his entire body sagging in the aftermath of his release.
You let him rest for all of a minute, let him briefly catch his breath, before starting the wand again and placing it on his cock. Loki cried out, his eyes full of question as they found yours.
“One more, my love. Then you’re going to make me come on that pretty face of yours.”
"yeah, just like that," he groans into the crook of your neck as you ride him. "you are beautiful, my princess." his large palms settle on your hips, adjusting you just enough to make it feel even better for both of you.
his hips meet yours with wet, rhythmic slaps as he picks up the pace. he is losing his mind over the way you take him in so greedily, and over the way your whimpers sound so wonderfully wrong beneath his steady guidance. "exquisite. you look perfect," he murmurs, his hand gently brushing along your cheekbone before pulling you into a kiss. baelor needs his wife to know that she is the only one who can bring him to such a state. this man would never make you deprived.
"i can see you are getting tired, sweetheart, but hold on just a little longer," he whispers, the moment he notices how you begin to whimper and tremble beneath him. "you are doing so well." his grip on your sides tightens just slightly, spurred on by the way you ride him and the way your pussy clenches around his length with a certain hunger. baelor's eyes roll back involuntarily at the sensations you are giving him. restrained grunts escape his lips. "gorgeous… keep going."
"you have no idea how beautiful you look from this angle right now," he says as his shining eyes meeting yours. "let us try a little harder." baelor says this before letting himself go completely, driving into you with even greater intensity as he quickens the pace.
you tighten around him, and a wave of pleasure crashes over you. tears well up in your eyes, and baelor pulls you into a tender embrace, gently wiping the tears from your salty cheeks. "you were incredible, my love," he says, before kissing you as if you were the most precious thing he has ever possessed.
Tell me why I now want to write a fic about how teenage Park the Shark was forced to be a clean cut athlete all American boy by his parents but he was a lil emo boy at heart…and was absolutely crushing on the girl (reader) who worked at his local hot topic and is a classmate of his…just Park passing by the hot topic with his auntie Anne pretzel making moon eyes at Reader who absolutely does not notice him at all despite the 👁️ 👁️ he gives her…he makes her mix cds with all the band shirts he sees her wearing but never is brave enough to give them to her in person but instead is leaving them in her locker at school…
Eventually she might find out and be shocked because what do you mean Mr. Football jock knows about the Used and Avenged Sevenfold…
Either Reader is his teenage sweetheart turned wife…. or they break up in college…
If they break up in college it’s not by choice and they very much view one another with fondness and as the one that got away….
Then maybe Park and Reader reconnect as adults when Reader (who is now still very much an alternative chick just more mature) brings in her brother or her coworker into the Pitt cause he broke his leg at a concert and who should the consulting surgeon be but Park…
Cough they reconnect cough and the man puts a ring on it this time…
Maybe all Robby needs to get on the right track is a helping hand from the attending he seems to hate the most ;) NSFW
Maybe it was the way you walked into the ER with a pep in your step, head high, lazy grin on your face. Maybe it was the fact that you had survived a gruelling first shift where a multi-vehicle incident brought in dozens of patients in the span of a few hours as though it was just a walk in the park. Or maybe it was even the fact that you took your thirty minute lunch breaks daily, granted they were two hours late and only lasted fifteen minutes but it was always with a healthy home-cooked meal and even snacks that didn't come from the vending machine. To say that you left a great and long lasting impression was to downgrade what really happened as you stepped into the ER with the goal of making everyone's lives and workloads easier.
You had completely and successfully stepped into your role as the new attending with a calm and yet firm grip. And maybe that's why it irritated Robby. He couldn't help but snap at you for any and every reason; Your sutures weren't tight enough (they were), you spent too much time with your patient (who was a five year old girl waiting for her parents), you even spoke in an annoying tone (one free of stress when he felt like he was two seconds away from crumbling).
And each time you took it on the chin, nodding mindlessly, humming a 'Yes Dr. Robbinavitch' which he hated because why weren't you calling him Dr. Robby like everyone else?
He also hated the fact that you were so helpful with everyone as though that wasn't the main aspect in your personality that made admin hire you before anyone else.
You had preordered extra M scrubs after witnessing how many times Whitaker needed to change, ensured that there were dates for when Perlah had to break her fast during Ramadan, you even kept strap supports for Langdon so that he could use them when his back started hurting. And you knew about Langdon's past. Robby had heard you listen to Santos telling you the story. He expected you to judge, to furrow your eyebrows the way you usually did when a complicated case came your way, so why did you just nod, keeping your mouth shut just to go back to work as though Langdon hadn't broken his trust.
Which is why Robby thought the universe hated him as he spotted you in the dive bar he usually frequents after shifts when his thoughts were too loud, swarming his head with a thousand different ideas, directions, comments. And there you were, entering the establishment and just like a magnet, your eyes found his. Robby hopped you'd get the hint when he didn't smile back at you, but apparently not as you sauntered towards him in a going-out top that seemed to hold your breasts with the power of hopes and dreams. And Robby detests the way his eyes were immediately drawn to them, to you. Because as much as he hated you, he could not deny the fact that you were beautiful, and in the dim lighting of the bar, you looked sexy, irresistible.
"Good evening Dr. Robinavitch." Even your voice sounded irresistible.
"You know you can call me Robby, like everyone else." It seemed as though you didn't hear him, or chose not to, as you simply slid into the seat next to the tall man, legs so close that they caressed him with each swivel of your chair.
"Aren't you going to buy a drink for your favorite attending?"
Robby flagged down the bartender, letting you order an Aperol spritz. And apparently what he hated more than yourself, was when other people ogled at your pretty face, Robby having to stop himself from making a remark at the young man behind the counter.
"You're out alone?" Your eyes stopped skimming the surroundings, finding Robby's gaze as you smiled your usual lazy grin, taking a sip of your drink.
"Yeah, wanted to discover Pittsburgh a bit more."
"It's a nice city."
"Yeah, it is."
And then a rowdy group to your right bumped into your arm and the glass at least a quarter still full emptied its content onto Robby's pants. And thirty seconds later you had pulled him into the toilets, patting at his pants with some paper towels while muttering sorry.
Robby should have felt your intentions, should have seen the mischievous glint in your eyes when you exaggerated your reaction to the push. Because he was now all tensed up, breath caught in his throat as he tried to look at anything but at your hands that had descended to his crotch to remove the Aperol that had fallen. He tried to speak, he really did, but he was no match for your pretty face cooing up at him, finally getting to help him at something.
"I'm sorry Robby, didn't mean to." His gaze remained on your hands, sweat pearling at his temples when he finally felt pressure on his cock.
"f-fuck." You snapped towards him, a look of fake concern appearing on your face.
"Are you okay Dr. Robby?" And he swore that he hated the smirk that appeared on your face, loathed the feeling of you pushing up against him, the toilet sink hard on his back.
So why did he moan when you unbuckled his pants to finally grip his long heavy cock? Why did he curse, eyes closing, when you sucked on his balls before your tongue licked a strip all the way to his tip?
"W-what are y-you doing?" He managed to whisper before your hand took the relay from your mouth as you experimentally stroked him, loving the way his cock pulsed in your hand with every motion.
"I'm just helping you Dr. Robby..." Your lips found his, your tongue pushing for entrance and of course he let you in. You tasted sweet yet bitter but Robby wasn't sure if it was from his emotions for you or from the cocktail you had drunk. "Some people have been worried about you Robby." He whimpered as you spoke into his ear, nibbling slightly at his earlobe.
"A-and you're w-worried about me?" You suckled at his collarbone, only stopping when a groan erupted from his throat and you could feel yourself get wet. There was just something about a pathetic man that got you going. Especially when it came to a beautiful pathetic man like Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch.
"Yes." Because you had noticed the way he looked tired every single day, and not the 'I didn't sleep enough' tired, the kind of fatigue that was caused by the sum of a stressful job, bad work-life balance, and life overall. "I'd feel better if you went to see a therapist."
His body stopped moving for a second before he managed to mutter a 'no'. Your right hand ran over his cock, skimming his thick veins as he puffed out a breath.
"Why not?" His eyebrows furrowed when you went back to leaving cute little red marks on his neck. He didn't know what to think, how to feel. Abbot had organised an intervention with him, even Dana, and now his very capable, very young and very hot attending was giving him an intervention in the form of a handjob in the dimly lit toilet of a dive bar.
"I don't- mrgh- need a t-therapist." A particularly delicious tug made him scramble for the sink behind him in support as his legs seemed to lose their strenght, lips finding yours to quieten his noises.
And he hated how a giggle escaped you, loathed the way your lips were intoxicating and how he couldn't stop himself from straining towards you for more when you broke out from the kiss.
"Nuh uh Robby, you've been mean to me since I got to the Pitt, and you don't want to seek help. I don't think you deserve this." And to the chief attending's horror, a deep whine left his mouth, tainting his skin with a crimson blush once he realised that it was indeed him who let out the sound. "You need help baby."
"N-No." He muttered out, hips bucking into your grasp, close, so close to his release.
"What did you say?" Your teeth nicked the skin below his ear as a heavy moan erupted once more. Robby felt like he couldn't control himself, with every lingering touch he felt like he was on fire, with every word you whispered dirtily in his ear, he thought he was going to faint.
"I- I said- fuck- n-no."
So you stopped your movement, watching as his eyes blew open wide, little tears of frustration falling from his baby brown eyes while he whined pathetically.
"Only good boys get to cum." And then you disappeared, door closing silently behind you, traces of precum on his pants and the marks on his skin as the only proof of what had just happened.
Your next morning started off as it usually did, you handed Shen his end-of-shift iced coffee, squeaking past Ellis after giving her an extra protein bar, just to stop behind Abbot and Dana to wait for handover instructions. Straining your ears, you couldn't help but smirk at the whispered conversation between the two.
"I swear, Robby sent me a text last night at 11pm asking me for my therapist's number."
"Maybe what you said finally got through to him?"
"Maybe."
And hopefully for them, they'd never see the link between Robby's improvements and the way you'd wink at him when he finally arrived at the Pitt, cheeks flushing red whenever he met your gaze.
Subby!Robby with a reader who won't touch him but will tease the fuck out of him in the hospital, whenever she can. She has to bend over a patient? She'll make sure to put herself in front of Robby so he can see her ass. She might even grab his bulge discreetly, and the risk of getting caught makes him soooo hot and whimpy.
subby!robby wants to come home with you.
and no matter how much he begs you won’t take him home with you despite how much you want to, it’s just sooo much fun teasing him at work. watching the big bad boss turn into this whiny, pathetic mess around you.
eventually, after months of teasing him, you do take him home and make him yours, you worry after the first time he wouldn’t be so easily teased at work anymore, not after he’s had you. but that couldn’t be further from the truth it only makes him worse when you’re teasing him at work knowing exactly what he’s missing, what he can’t have while at the hospital.
by the end of the next shift he’s following you out of the ambulance bay to your car, hot on your heels like a little puppy.
you turn around and come to a stop, he almost walks into you.
“what do you think you’re doing???” you smirk, eyebrow raised with your arms folded across your chest.
robby just looks down at the ground not wanting to outright beg you to take him home with you, you know what he wants tho.
“awww, did you think you were coming home with me??” your voice is dripping in condescension, robby nods his head slowly, pout on his face.
“such a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” you step closer to him, making sure no one’s around before bringing your hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek, he leans into it, nodding again.
you sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “come on then, suppose you can come over again…just this once though, then no more, okay.” you roll your eyes, biting back the smirk when robby nods his head a little too eagerly.
you both know this won’t be the last time.
subby!robby i love u dearly <333
want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ (taglist is tagged from another acc)
i love robby’s salt and pepper beard sm ☹️💗 like imagine him on a day off reading a book (glasses on), slightly slouched against the headboard as you lay on top of him and play with his beard and lay soft kisses against his jaw, i can’t 😭💗
cuddling with robby
you climb on top of robby, nudging his book where it rests on his chest to lay your head down in its place. robby lifts it to allow you to settle in before resting it on your back to continue reading, his other hand resting on your lower back rubbing slow circles between turning pages.
you place one hand on his chest to support yourself, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath. you press of a soft kiss against his jaw, the corner of his lips quirk up in a smile, his cheeks turning a light shade of flushed pink.
you reach your free hand up and cup his jaw, combing your fingers through his beard, nails scratching softly at his skin beneath the hair.
robby huffs a small contented sigh, “what’cha doing, honey?” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before turning his attention back to his book.
“nothin…just loving you.” you giggle softly as his cheeks grow hotter under your finger tips, his smile growing wider.
“oh, well…in that case, carry on.” he chuckles, giving your side a little squeeze.
fluff! fluff! fluff! fluff! fluff! val’s written fluff everybody!!
want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ ( taglist is tagged from another acc )
Ok so for the club, do you think Jack and Robby are like. A package deal? I can see them going at you individually, sure, but when it comes to another pairing (like Jack and Dana perhaps) what do you think the rabbot dynamic would be like?
I love them sm <3
Involved | The Jackrabbit Club
Pairing: Rabbot x f!reader ft. Dana Evans
Prev | Masterlist | Next
CW: nsfw, mdni, 18+, explicit sexual content, big ass harem babes, lots of pet names (daddy, mommy, papa) cuddling, fingering, piv unprotected sex, phone sex technically??, dana watches you and jack and robby gets jealous
You've gotten greedy.
You're sure of it when you don't hear your name being called down the hall, when you don't hear Dana walking into the room, loud enough that you should've heard it.
But how can you? When Jack's hands are all over you, demanding and perfectly curling those delicious fingers right where you need him the most, the ringing in your ears impossible to quell now.
You only manage to notice her because she moves into your field of vision, settling down on the lounge chair beside your bed where Jack has angled you towards.
"So this is why you're late."
You let out an embarrassed gasp as Jack's arm tightens around your neck to hold you steady against him and the other simply goes in even further so his palm can settle over your clit to give it the attention it deserves.
Your hand instinctively goes up to his. "Jackie—”
"Don't stop on my account," she tuts, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her attention locked onto your hazy gaze.
Jack responds by thrusting his leaking erection into you, fingers only opening you up for him to slide right in.
You scream, eyes glossed over and mouth hanging open with drool leaking down over his arm.
Dana chuckles in response, pulling out her phone and pointing it at the two of you. You hear the unmistakable sound of the camera recording, shame mixed in with pleasure shoots up your spine instantly. You arch back into Jack, hips slowly rolling to meet his thrusts as he fucks into you.
"That's it sweetheart," Jack groans into your ear. "Put on a show for Dana."
You whine, pleasure overtaking whatever ounce of embarrassment still lingered.
"Mommy—” you mewl. "Fuck please."
"Nu uh," Jack spits meanly. "She can't help you here."
The noise that erupts from you is inhuman, causing Dana to laugh leisurely once more.
"Robby—” you gulp loudly, swallowing all the saliva that has pooled in your mouth. "Send it to him please."
Dana stops recording, engrossed in her phone for a second while, the loud keyboard haptic blending in with your moans and Jack's groans.
Dana Evans: [attached a video]
Dana Evans: No amount of money could ever make me go back to work at that godforsaken hospital.
At that same moment in the ED, Robby's ears flush pink instantly, excusing himself so that he can go to the bathroom.
His hands shake as he shuts the bathroom door behind him, somehow managing to get out his AirPods and put them in his ears without them dropping into the floor from his elated clumsiness.
He watches the video, revels in the knowledge that he can take all the time he needs, that Jack will simply continue to edge you until he gives him the go ahead.
He's semi-hard by the time Dana cuts the camera.
Robby: I'm quitting my job.
Instead of another message, he gets an incoming call from Dana. He picks up instantly, his still flaccid cock twitching painfully at the mere thought of what awaits him on the other end of the line.
"You can't quit!" It's you, your beautiful fucked out voice, high pitched and just the right amount of whiny. You huff and puff, desperately willing your mind to work, to piece together words into sentences. "You love it there."
He smiles, warmth flooding his chest instantly. "Yeah but I like you more."
He hears Jack thrust then, sharp and to the point, and you let out a pained cry.
"Is Daddy being mean?" Robby coos, throwing you a bone.
He can hear you nodding, can practically imagine the pout on your face.
"He is." You sob.
"Fuck, you better send me a picture of her tear stained face when you're done."
"Will do, Cap." It's Dana who responds, oh how far their friendship has come indeed.
"Robby..." you cry out again, Jack's movements speeding up, his hips slapping against your ass deliciously. "May I please cum? I'm so close, please, please, please—”
A sharp scream leaves your lips then.
"No, no, Jackie, stop I can't—I can't hold it if you keep—”
Jack only chuckles darkly in response. "Papa can't save you, little girl."
"But—” you scream again. "Robby please! I need—He's—oh my god."
"Cum honey, do it for me, I'll deal with Jack after—”
He doesn't need to tell you twice because the second he gives you permission you are coming undone like an avalanche, powerful and deathly.
Robby closes his eyes, reveling in the sounds spilling out of you, the whines, the cries, the moans, the incoherent babbling that he oh so adores. He listens closely as Jack sings praises into your ear, his hips slowing down as he buries himself deeply into you, spilling his own release inside of you.
He loves hearing Jack cum, adores just how satisfying it is to know that his friend, his partner is being taken care of in this way.
He stays on the line for a while, way more than his imaginary ten minute break but no one comes looking for him so he doesn't dare panic.
He hears shuffling on the other side, most likely Jack and Dana helping to clean you up.
"Honey, you still there?"
You nod. "Yeah."
You're always so bashful and shy after you cum, all the confidence you have getting safely tucked away for them to revel in your heated cheeks and starry eyes.
"Can you do me a favor? Can you take a picture of yourself? Just wanna see you—”
You do him one better, turning the call into a FaceTime which he accepts instantly.
You smile dopily at him, still curled on your sided, your face taking up the majority of the screen.
"There she is," he beams. "Thank you honey."
"Always Mikey," you purr. "Wish you were here."
"I'll cut you a deal," he blushes. "I'll make you dinner tonight and you can do whatever you want to show me just how much you missed me."
You giggle, nodding fervently.
"Okay, good girl," he hears his name being called, incoming trauma. "Now, if you're not too tired, be a good girl and make Dana cum."
ᝰ⋆.˚ the first time he sees you is when you’re working at the coffee shop across from his business center, the one he’s stepping into for the first time ever because everywhere else is closed and he desperately needs coffee at 11 pm.
he walks in and sees you — a cute, young girl in a brown apron, your hair thrown up in a messy bun like you did it in a rush.
“hi! sorry, we’re about to close,” you say, looking at him with those shiny eyes and a tired smile. “i really need it, maybe if i say the magic word?” he jokes, watching with quiet satisfaction as you pull a fake suffering face and go turn the machine back on. “you’re lucky the magic word worked, sir.”
that night he leaves you a $100 tip.
ᝰ⋆.˚ from that day on he comes to the coffee shop almost every day, leaving tips so big they sometimes cover several of your shifts. he knows you’re working yourself to the bone just to pay for your life, so when you ask him not to spend so much, he just increases the amount, calling it “a little help.”
you smile at him, draw little cats and smiley faces on the cups, and every morning he finds himself wondering what it’s gonna be today.
but one tuesday everything changes: he sees you with tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes red and puffy. you brush it off, but he notices the angry manager who comes out after you. when the guy finally leaves, he quietly writes his number down and hands it to you.
“if you need help — and you do — call me. i’m always reachable.”
ᝰ⋆.˚ he invites you to one of those quiet, expensive restaurants with a panoramic view of the city when you finally call him after an exhausting shift and a fight with your boss. he watches you for a while as you look through the menu and tells you to order anything you want, no hesitation.
when it’s time for dessert and you’ve gotten used to him enough, he gently takes your hand into his warm palms and says he’d like to help you in any way he can, so you don’t have to wear yourself out with night shifts and constant exhaustion. when you ask if he does this kind of thing regularly, he just lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head, saying he heard about it from a friend recently and immediately thought of you.
ᝰ⋆.˚ for your first trip together, he takes you to new york because he has an important deal there, and he’s dead set on you accompanying him that evening. at receptions and formal meetings, he doesn’t leave you alone for a second, always keeping a hand on your waist and proudly introducing you to everyone as his girl. he catches every glance you give him, and when you get tired of all the small talk, he checks on you and quietly leans in to whisper praise in your ear, unnoticed by the others.
ᝰ⋆.˚ when he finds out you’re preparing for a tough finals, he turns your studying into the most comfortable process possible: he sends his personal chef over to your place, drives you around all the time, and gives you advice whenever you talk to him about your lectures.
ᝰ⋆.˚ baelor sets one clear rule from the very first day: he’s never going to pressure you or push you into anything sexual.
and even if you’re grateful for it at first, now you’re practically losing your mind over how badly you want him.
i mean, he’s attractive, tall, rich, and built — who can blame you?
but he just smiles and shakes his head anyway, no matter how much you tease him.
ᝰ⋆.˚ sugardaddy! baelor who finally snaps when you come up to him in his home office and literally start rubbing against his thigh in those expensive pants, whimpering. "does my pretty girl need something?" he teases, moving your hips and literally making you ride his thigh until you come, leaving a wet spot.
"got so wet just from my leg, hm? what's gonna happen when my cock is inside you?" he spreads your knees wide, your skirt pushed up to your waist and your panties lying somewhere on the office floor as you come again, first on his huge fingers that barely fit inside you, and then on his heavy cock while he pounds into you balls deep. "is this what my baby wanted? for me to rip her sweet pussy apart?"
ᝰ⋆.˚ he absolutely loves spoiling you. for him, nothing matters more than your eyes lighting up when you get something you’ve wanted for a long time. it’s not always dresses or shoes, sometimes it’s the simplest things: a brand new coffee machine, a massage device because you once mentioned your back hurts from sitting all the time. he doesn’t know the word no when it comes to your comfort. if you look at something for more than five seconds, the next day it’s already yours.
ᝰ⋆.˚ sugardaddy! baelor who has you settled on his lap in the back room of a private jet, your legs spread wide over his, your back against his chest, while one hand holds you possessively as he’s in you up to his knuckles. his fingers are long and thick, pounding into you with smooth strokes, hitting that exact sensitive spot you could never reach on your own. "nngh! please, i need... please..." he just laughs and kisses your neck with open-mouthed kisses. "mmmh, good girls speak up about what they want."
your hips tremble and lift every time, but he pins you down with one hand. "come on, my baby, tell me what you want and i'll give it to you." "i wan— mmnh! please, i want to come, please please plea— ...haaaah!" "such a good girl for me, my sweetest baby, come on my fingers so i smell like you for a whole fucking week."
and when you come with a loud cry, he grabs your chin and turns your head toward him to pull you into a deep kiss.
ᝰ⋆.˚ baelor, who has to fly to singapore for work but can't go a day without seeing you. what starts as a normal chat turns into something entirely different when he switches to facetime. "put the phone lower... yeah, right there. now open those pretty legs and show me how much you missed me. use your fingers, baby."
he makes you say out loud how bad you want him inside you, how you miss his fingers and his mouth, making you blush and lose your breath in front of the camera.
he starts moving his hand faster, his cock is hard as fuck, breathing heavy while he watches you. he let out a low groan when you came, moaning his name. "fuccckk, you're not leaving the room once i get home."
ᝰ⋆.˚ he’s an eater. he claims it’s primarily for his pleasure, not yours. he loves leaving you naked on his silk sheets, slowly covering your thighs and stomach with a trail of kisses. he can spend hours worshiping you with his tongue, driving you to one orgasm after another until you start crying from the sensory overload, and then he just presses you against his hot chest, cradling you and whispering how lucky he is and how you make him the happiest man alive.
ᝰ⋆.˚ baelor, who seats you onto his cock, making you sit like that until he's finished with his reports. he loves the feeling — how your inner muscles stretch around him, trying to get used to his size, and how you squeeze him every time he moves even an inch. "can you sit still like this for me, princess?"
you start whimpering quietly from the fullness and the heat inside, trying to move just a little, but he only smirks and holds you tighter. "behave. you know good girls get whatever they ask for, right?"
you're literally dripping onto his dress pants, leaving a terribly awkward wet spot, but he doesn't give a shit. "look how you've messed me up, is being inside not enough for this little pussy? does it want more?" when you’ve turned into a complete mess, unable to do anything but moan and whimper, he tosses his pen aside and finally touches your swollen clit, slowly rolling it between his fingers. "okay, let's take care of my sweet baby."
ᝰ⋆.˚ maybe others think it's nasty, thinking you’re just fucking some old dude for money, but he treats you like a princess, spoils you to death, and fucks you until you're complete mess. and he's hot, so honestly, you couldn't care less.
baelor moved to lay down on the rug of his solar, close enough to the hearth to feel the warmth of it against his sprawled form, and intertwined his fingers over his stomach expectantly.
“are you certain?” you find yourself asking once more, face weary as you peer down at him.
you had arrived only several minutes prior, in your nightgown, to keep him company through the hours of the evening that he would often spend assessing scrolls or writing correspondences.
baelor gave an assured nod of his head, his hips canting upwards as you moved closer towards him.
“but,” you began, a wave of heat spreading across your face, “what if I suffocate you?” concern was woven into your tone as you kneeled beside him.
“then, I will have passed a pleased man,” was his reply, evoking a humiliated gasp from you.
“husband.”
“come.” baelor persisted, a hand rising to hold yours.
your skin buzzed when it came in contact with his, the nervous jittering within your belly turning into an excited swirl as you pulled your sheer skirt up before you sat atop his abdomen, your thighs pressing into either side of his torso.
“there, that was not so difficult,” he murmured, the colouring of his mismatched gaze nearly entirely absorbed by his widened pupils, all that remained of their hue was a thin circle of blue and brown.
you began to rise, “I cannot–,”
“I promise,” baelor interrupted, hands rubbing soothing circles into the expanse of your waist, “I will notify you the moment I feel discomfort.”
you stared down at him, deciding to accept his vow despite not believing his words in the slightest.
distractedly, you noted the length of his beard and the shininess of the hair; he must have trimmed it shorter than usual that morning as well as have oiled it before you had arrived.
was it in preparation of this request, you wondered, a fond affection filling your chest at the reminder of the consideration he held towards you and your comfort at all times.
“are you truly sure?” you question again, hands gliding up his torso until your fingers were combing through his greying beard.
“yes, my dear.”
he had freshly oiled it, you mused bashfully, the usually coarse strands were now much softer to the touch. your breath quickened at the realization that your husband never decided anything on a whim, and so this must have been a fantasy he had been entertaining for quite some time.
“absolutely certain?”
“oh, most definitely,” baelor relayed once more, the rumbling from his chest vibrating between your legs as his hands dragged you further up.
he paused, allowing you to close the remaining distance, not only as confirmation that this was something you were willing to try, but to ensure you were aware of the control you had in this position.
after several beats of stillness, you lifted your hips until your bare core was directly above his mouth, your head hanging low to observe his next move.
immediately, baelor’s head sprang forward, mouth opening wide to swipe at your cunt as his odd-coloured eyes remained attached to yours. messily, he dipped his tongue within you, the wet appendage exploring with a familiarity that had you nearly toppling over.
you were already dripping onto him, the smell of your arousal filling the solar.
“baelor, it’s–gods, it’s too much,” you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your swollen clit against the tip of his sharp, twice-broken nose, eliciting a startled moan from deep within your throat.
“like that,” he mumbled against your wet flesh, his hands rising to grip your hips, pulling you harder against his face, “take what you need, anything–all of it.”
your first release hit you embarrassingly quickly, a flood of wetness gushing against his face and down the expanse of your inner thighs. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as pure ecstasy shot up your spine, settling at the base of your neck as your inner walls repeatedly clenched around nothing except for the tip of his nose.
your hips moved frantically back and forth, fingers tugging painfully at the short, greying strands atop his head with a surprising amount of strength.
yet, baelor did not complain; he remained focused on your body, his hands kneading into the flesh of your backside as he assisted you with your frantic rocking movements.
instinctively, your thighs tightened around his head when he continued to sloppily lap at your sensitive clit, a shiver passing through you when his lips enclosed around the enlarged bud.
“baelor, please..”
he ignored your pleas, languidly licking at your cunt until you were on the edge of another, more intense release.
“oh!” you cried, an embarrassed flush travelling up your chest as you felt a stream of fluid escape your convulsing passage, a loud moan leaving your body at the same time the liquid did.
baelor’s arms moved to wrap around your waist, holding you in place as your body convulsed pleasurably on top of him.
he mumbled incoherent words against your heated flesh, his low-lidded eyes fixated on the little of your face he could see as you continued to tremble and shiver from the force of your orgasm.
once you had come down from your second release, and finally stopped quivering, you flung yourself backwards, landing clumsily atop his stomach.
“you–,” you were breathless, fingers tightening over his clothes as you struggled to breathe properly, “that was..”
you trailed off, attention drifting to the wetness that dripped down the side of his face; most of his beard was drenched in your scent and arousal.
baelor’s hands moved to help you stay upright even as his eyes remained glued on your swollen core, his tongue swiping against the remnants of you on his lips.
“how was that, my love?” he asked quietly, his mismatched eyes twinkling like he already knew the answer.
instead of replying, you exhaled deeply, straightened your back, and moved to sit back atop his face.
Girl I got this fic idea from insta and RAN to share it with you bc I loved The Bet and I think you can execute it so well!!! SO, Reader has a threesome with Abbot and Robby BUT one is praising her, the other degrading her!!! 🥴 You can pick who's who. Someone in the comments under the reel said "Good Top, Bad Top" 🤣 it sent me 🤣😂🤣 I think that could also be the title but you can change that, if you decide to write it. Im in desperate need.. If you don't want to do it, it's ok, but I hope someone does 🥵🥵🥵
Good Top, Bad Top
Rabbot x Resident!reader
CW: 18+ MDNI, smut, threesome, age gap (nonspecified), Oral (m/f), fingering, anal, unprotected PIV, Power dynamics, Pervy old men, and a teensy little breeding kink
Note: Thank you for the ask, it was so fun to write! I absolutely kept that title, it made me giggle out loud hehe. This was supposed to be out sooner, so sorry about that, but I have a curse that is the inability to write a short blurb and it ended up kinda long. But I hope this is okay and you enjoy !
You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this situation, but currently you were in the back seat of an uber squished between the bodies of your two attendings. It started out as a normal coworker get together for Javadi’s twenty-first birthday. Such a celebration meant that everyone who was not on the schedule to work was in attendance and those who were scheduled came before or after their shift.
Thankfully you were one of the ones who had it scheduled off, and so did Trinity and Dennis. Both of which were also subsequently your roommates and fellow doctors. You had been a year above Trinity in school but the two of you passed each other a few times in the halls. It wasn’t until your original roommate moved out at the same time you had heard she was looking for a place to live that the two of you truly connected.
And it wasn’t much later when you and Trinity had brought home Dennis like a stray dog after finding him in the abandoned area of the hospital after the Pittfest shooting. Which was also the day that you had walked in on your two very attractive attendings seemingly having a very intense conversation on the roof. You didn’t mean to interrupt, simply looking for a place to breathe after feeling the start of a panic attack after everything just happened.
Barging through the door with sharp breaths and red rimmed eyes you got about two steps past the threshold before you were colliding with a brick wall you swore shouldn’t be there. And you would be correct. Because it wasn’t a brick wall, it was Dr. Jack Abbot and Dr. Michael Robinavitch. The last two people that you wanted to be in front of at this moment. However, that quickly changed as large hands were soon gripping you in a grounding hold as soft words carried across the gusts of wind.
“Sweetheart you need to breathe okay,”
“Im gonna need you to look at us honey”
Never once in your few years of working within the PTMC had Robby called you sweetheart, nor Abbot calling you honey. It was enough of a shock to pull your focus slightly mid panic attack. Eyes finally gazing upward to meet deep brown and shadowed hazel. Warmth filled your cheeks as you did your best to suppress the familiar butterflies that had begun to creep up at their touch.
“I-I’m so sorry Dr. Abbot, Dr. Robby-” you did your best to separate yourself from their grip. But with Robby’s settled on your shoulders and Abbots on your cheeks, it was proving to become difficult. Instead their hands tightened just enough to stop your efforts of distancing yourself.
“None of that doctor nonsense right now sweetheart, okay? It’s Michael and Jack” Robby was the first to interrupt you with a soft tone caressing his words. The offers of their first names were so casual it had your mind going blank. Only their voices and the feeling of their hands were rattling around in your skull.
“Need an answer with words honey” Abbot’s tone was stiffer than Robby’s had been. And his words were followed by a slight tap-tap of his palm to the side of your cheek. The push and pull of both attendings had that slight fuzz in your brain still struggling to clear, but the need to have their approval won out. Allowing you to let out a small ‘y-yes.’
From day one as an MS4 on your emergency rotation at the PTMC you had been smitten with them at first sight. Their competence that they displayed within their jobs and the casual dominance they seemed to hold over their relationships had your knees buckling in need. But in hindsight maybe it was just you that they held such a dynamic with. You were too infatuated with the two older men to truly see it. Everyone else did though. And they did their damndest to get you to see it, but you refused to give into their teasing.
Refusing to believe they would want to waste their time with someone as young and inexperienced as you. Something you had continuously repeated to Trinity and Dennis over too much cheap wine and cheese plates on your weekly movie nights. Lamenting about how you were doomed to ogle but never touch, a statement that had them giggling how untrue it was. And they were right, because while you may not be touching them and reaching out at every opportunity they sure were.
When working with one or both of them, there was never a time you were in their presence and a hand wasn’t on your body. On your hip, an arm, lower back, a pat on the knee, and you could’ve sworn a graze to your ass a few times. They were also always making sure that you were doing what you needed to take care of yourself. ‘Go take a break’ or ‘go eat something’, sentiments that you found sweet and kind of them looking out for you. And like a good little resident who only wanted to please her attendings you never told them no, always nodding your head and saying a yes Dr. Abbott or Dr. Robby. Which then evolved to yes Jack or Michael after the trip to the roof.
All of which has landed you here, way too tipsy way too soon at Victoria's birthday gathering at the bar you all frequented. Absolutely raving to the birthday girl herself along with your two roommates how you’ll never know what their lips feel like, or how it would feel to be smushed between them.
“I just want to be suffocated between them you know” your words were slightly slower than normal and just a little bit slurred as you spilled your heat out to the small group.
“I don’t know w-why you don’t say anything s’how I got Garcia” Trinity giggled as she sipped on her drink.
“B-but Yoyo wanted you, they don’t want me” sticking the bottom of your lip out in a pout, you didn’t pay attention to the time or the fact that it was the end of the day shift and they could be seen trickling in. You also didn’t notice the way that a mischievous smirk made its way onto Victoria and Trinity's face while Dennis hid his amusement.
“And who are we talking about again?” Victoria’s question was interrupted by a hiccup, meanwhile you looked at her like she was stupid.
“Fucking Dr. hotties that’s who” a dreamy sigh left your lips while placing your chin into your hand, “Jackie and Mikey”
“A-And w-what” Trinity barely got through her sentence as her giggles mutated into almost full blown cackles, “what do you w-want them to do to you?”
Dennis tried to help you, he really did. Or at least that's what he would try to tell you if this all went bad. He would point out how he tried to get your attention and motion for you to ‘be quiet’ with a finger over his lips. But you couldn’t be stopped, the words were too busy flowing out of your mouth.
“I want them to literally use me like a ragdoll babes” and because you just couldn’t help yourself, you started using your hands to depict movements. “I want ‘em to stuff me so full I'll probably be worried about repercussions later. A-and I just know their cocks are huuuge!”
Those same hands that had been demonstrating all the positions that you wanted those men to pretzel you into began to lengthen into what constituted your imagination of their sizes. The entire time you spoke, laughter had weaved their way into your words. However, when a familiar gruff voice sounded behind you, any and all sounds that you were making died down immediately.
“Come on honey, is that what you think is huge?”
“Don’t tease her brother,” Robby’s own voice came in on your other side, “ the poor thing didn’t even know we were listening”
Within seconds the table had cleared before you could form the word ‘traitors’. After a painful half hour of you apologizing profusely and rambling to the two men they managed to down a few drinks without speaking one word. Staying silent until they had pulled you up and out of your chair and paid the tab. All before you found yourself crowded by their large figures against the side of the brick wall as you three waited for your uber. Robby was the first to capture your lips in a soft kiss, his beard hairs tickling your nose as your lips moved in sync. Only having a few moments to yourselves before Jack's rough scruff was dragging over your neck as his lips all but attacked your throat.
It was almost overwhelming having both of them on you. A feeling that was exacerbated when a sharp pinch had you gasping into Robby’s mouth, one that he swallowed without pause. He only pulled back when you let out a slight whimper as Jack sucked on that same spot he had just bitten into. The rush of pain was quickly paired with pleasure as Robby rubbed you through your underwear that had been peeking out under your short denim skirt. It had the cotton gusset soaked within seconds.
“I would say go easy on her but I think our sweet girl likes it,” he pushed the fabric to the side as he dips his middle finger between your folds, “She is absolutely dripping”
Robby's forehead rested against yours, watching how your expressions changed with each brush of his finger against your clit. Soon another large hand wrapped around the front of your throat, cutting off just enough air supply that it had your brain buzzing.
“Of course she likes it Mike, our little slut was just begging for us to fuck her dumb two seconds ago” His hand releases the pressure just a smidge allowing you to get a half breath in before he tilted your face away from Robbys and towards his.
Jack's kiss was notably different. Where Robby’s had been soft and exploring, Jacks was rough and dominating. His tongue instantly claimed the space of your mouth as Robby finally pushed his finger into your pulsing cunt, causing you to moan around Jack's tongue. All too soon they were pulling away at the notification chime that the driver was less than a minute away. The loss of warmth and friction had you pouting and chasing their bodies.
“Ah ah ah sweetheart, gonna need you to be good for us on the way back to ours.” Robby set your underwear back into place before sticking his finger into his mouth, letting the taste of you fill his senses.
“Don’t want the driver to know how desperate you are for two old men’s cocks do you, honey?” Jack’s sentence had you shaking your head as he took his thumbs to collect the spit glistening on your lips and shoving it back into your mouth.
The taste of whiskey, cheap beer, and tequila filled your mouth. Seconds after he pulled his finger from your lips the car pulled up. And this was exactly how you found yourself in the back of this car with a hand from each man resting just slightly too high on the inside of your thigh. The ride wasn’t long thankfully as you couldn't help yourself from grinding your hips just slightly so the seam of your still slightly askew underwear could rub against your clit. Words between the driver and your attendings had been exchanged but you were in no position to retain the conversation, nor participate.
“Its just so nice to know that parents still care about their kids getting home safely” The uber driver was oblivious to the the sick fantasies he had just played into with one simple sentence.
“Oh yeah, we just wanna make sure the kiddo gets home safe from the bars” Robby was the first to play into the role, emphasizing his words with a small pinch to your chin.
“Gotta make sure she stays safe from all the creeps and weirdos out on the streets, back in our day there was a lot more manners” Jack as usual was never far behind.
With a kind parting to the driver they handed him another 100$ tip before pulling you out of the car. Barely getting two steps into the large sleek house before they were on you once more. Jack began all but ripping your clothes off as Robby brought you into a slow measured kiss as his hands wandered the newly uncovered skin. The need to deepen the kiss was replaced with a gasp of surprise as your body was bent over a strong shoulder, and a sting of a sharp slap was delivered to your ass.
“Ouch! Put me down, I can walk you know!”
That had earned you another bruising hit to your bottom on the same spot.
“Oh ho ho, looks like the kid has a little brat in her” Robby’s surprised chuckle was released at your sharp words.
“Need your old men to fuck that new found attitude out of you don’t you?” Jack wasn’t even out of breath as he threw you onto the bed of the room the three of you had entered at the top of the stairs.
A squeak left your lips as you bounced on the bed, ending up at an angle that had your head hanging off the side and your legs halfway on the bed and part ways hanging off. You had begun to move and straighten your body out seeing as the weird position wasn’t making any sense. Elbows moving to prop your upper body, another smack sounded out. But this time it was a direct hit to your soaked cunt. Your clit was buzzing with the sensation, dropping your elbows while your hips writhed to ride out the shooting nerves.
“Aw Jack you’re being so mean to her,” Robby kneeled down at the end of the bed where your legs were positioned, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he gave feather light kisses to the inside of your thighs. “She’s been good so far, haven't you?”
“Y-yes s’good, I’ll b-be s’good!” The last word was drawn out as Robby’s warm tongue licked a thick stripe from the entrance of your cunt all the way to the top where he flicked the bundle of nerves before doing it twice more. Collecting as much of your arousal as he could before swallowing.
“Taste so fucking good sweetheart, could live off you for the rest of my life”
“Give me a little taste Mike”
You had thought that meant they were already switching positions, something you weren’t ready for as Robby’s motions had your cunt fluttering already. Except before you could express your opposition, you watched as Jack grabbed Robby’s face and bent down. Giving the man a kiss just as aggressive as the one he had given you downstairs, you could see their tongues fighting for dominance. The sight had you biting your lip as your hand moved to circle your clit, but not before Robby caught your hand in a loose grip without even looking. Effectively stopping your attempt to relieve your ache.
“Did I speak too soon about you being good for us kid?” Robby pulled away from Jack to scold you gently.
“Well you weren’t doing it and I needed it!” the pitch coming across whinier than you had meant for it to.
“Oh I told you she needed to be put in her place,” Jack moved himself to crowd where your head was hanging off the edge as you leaned it back to watch him. Eyes tracking his hands as they unzipped his jeans, his boxer briefs doing very little to hide his obvious bulge. An asset of his that you had definitely ogled before but it looked much larger close up.
Your attention was dragged back to Robby as the man decided to dive back into your sopping wet cunt. Tongue continuing its movements and carving new patterns into your flesh. One that you swore was his and Jack's name. His confident pace had a steady build of pressure growing in your lower stomach. Robby liked to move as if he had all the time in the world before guiding his middle finger into you. Your neck strained to try and look down your body to catch a glimpse of the man who was eating you out with such care.
However, the view was obstructed as a fairly loud and solid thud hit your face. Doing your best to look between your brows you couldn’t see much. And that was due to the fact that Jack had become impatient at your lack of attention on him and chose to drop the heavy weight of his balls onto your lower chin.
“Put em in your mouth kid, c’mon open wide”
And you did. Your tongue guiding one side into your open mouth covering it with spit as you did your best to massage his balls. Once more you move your hands, this time to assist your jaw as it began to ache. But similarly to before they were prevented from your intention. As calloused hands gripped your biceps, pressing them into the mattress.
“No touching”
You began to buck your hips into Robby's face and fingers, signalling the start of your protest. You also started tilting your head back in an attempt to release his balls from your own mouth. Taking a deep breath in, you weren’t even able to get one singular word out.
“Bu- mmph!”
Sparing you no adjustment time or a moment to truly admire just how large his cock was, Jack decided to stuff as much as he could into your open mouth. Barely giving you a second before he started thrusting, pulling back until just his tip was left and shoving himself until he felt the back of your throat. Gargles and moans were all that your vocal cords could manage at the extremely large intrusion. Sounds that had Robby looking up from where he was below, the sight that met his eyes as he looked over your body had his cock stiff and leaking. That also had him realizing that he needed to hurry things up, but he wasn’t about to let his sweet girl go without at least one orgasm. No, he was going to take care of you.
So as Jack was all but ramming himself into your throat gagging you as each thrust had him hitting the back of your hard palette, spit mixed with Jack’s leaking arousal had dripped from the corners of your mouth covering your lips and chin. Your cunt began to burn with a foreign amount of stretch. That stretch came from Robby adding a third finger into your swollen and puffy cunt. Crooking them into the soft spot that had your thighs tightening around his shoulders and gripping the comforter.. The small vibrations of your moans had gone straight to Jack's cock, just as Robby’s had gone to your clit.
With no way to grab Robby’s hair or warn them with your mouth full of Jack, the only indication of your impending orgasm was the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes and the vicious clench of your walls. White knuckles gripped the comforter as Robby slowed down the movements of his fingers letting your orgasm taper off gently. But it seemed like Jack wasn’t about to let you off as easily. Instead of pulling back and allowing you to breathe through your peak he decided to push himself deep into your throat and holding it still. His spit slick balls rested against your forehead, and every breath was flooded with the scent of him.
“Let her have a breath Jack c’mon” Robby chided him, as he stood up and gripped the base of Jack’s cock. Giving it a little squeeze of warning and not letting go until he pulled out of your mouth. The wet plop was followed by your deep gasp and slight coughs.
“Always taking it easy on her Mike, but she can take it. In fact I think she likes being our little, what was it you said, ragdoll?” Jack patted the side of your wet cheek, so that your eyes that had drooped closed opened back up to answer him.
“Y-yes p-please” your voice was strained and raspy from the use.
Your body was hauled up into warm arms and a leg was thrown over the lap of Robby, who held you securely into his chest. Arms wrapped lazily around his neck as your head rested against your shoulder. HIs large hands gripped your hips, moving them forward and back grinding you against his hardened cock as if you were nothing but a body to be used.
“Look at you sweetheart, so gorgeous” he placed a small peck to your lips as he bucked his hips up into you, the friction of his jeans on your sensitive cunt had you whining at the overstimulation. “Being such a good girl for us, do you think you can do it again?”
His words were dripping in honey, sweet praises had your mind once again empty. Barely managing a nod of your head, your world began moving as you were lifted up once more and set onto a bare and freckled chest. Placing lazy kisses up his sternum, that soft headspace you fell into was interrupted as his hand gripped your throat.
“Im not getting any younger down here, gonna need you to fuck your old man like the cock drunk slut I know you are” The push and pull of the praising and debasing words had your mind spinning. Using his grip he moved you into a sitting position so that you could finally appreciate the sight of him.
The ache in your jaw was making more sense as you wrapped your hand around his length, the girth had your thumb and pointer unable to touch. The red leaking tip was still glistening with your saliva, and around his base was neatly trimmed silver curls. His prosthetic was long forgotten at the side of the bed, lifting up just enough for you to swipe his tip through your folds twice before notching it at your entrance. Slowly you sank down the first inch yourself, but Jack wasn’t interested in soft and slow.
With a bruising grip on the junction between your thigh and hip, a simple push of his strength your pelvis met his. The pressure of being so full so suddenly had you wailing out in both pleasure and pain, the head of his cock was pressed tightly against your cervix. Slight thrusts of his hips had the air pushed from you as fresh tears filled your water line.
“Aw I thought you said you could take it? Were you lying to Mikey?” the condescending tone he held as he used your nickname for Robby had your walls fluttering, “don’t exactly have much of a choice now honey, if you can barely survive me how are you gonna be able to take both of us hmm?”
A hand lifted off your hip as he began to thrust up into you rough and hard, his fingers squished your cheeks together and forced your gaze to the side.
“You don’t want to disappoint him do you?” your eyes were met with the sight of Robby bare of his clothing and his palm running up and down his length as he watched the show you and Jack were putting on. He wasn’t as thick as Jack was, but he had a few more inches than the man stuffing you full and bullying his cock through your cunt. The dense unruly curls that connected to the trail of dark hair on the curve of his stomach had you desperate to run your hands through it.
“I need your words, or are you already fucked so dumb that you cant answer a simple queston?”
“N-no f-fuc-k” those were the only words that you could form as he purposefully interrupted your sentence with extra rough thrusts.
“I don't think I believe you, do you Mike?”
The feel of another body came behind you, as warmth dragged up and down your spine which was contrasted harshly with cold liquid that ran down your ass.
“Now, now Jack, why don’t you take it easy on our sweet girl?” His thumb followed the trail of liquid before pressing into the tight ring of muscles until he slid in, “Poor thing just needs to be taken care of”
Your body fell forward barely catching yourself with hands beside Jack's head. This position had your breasts shoved right up against his face, a position that he took full advantage of by wrapping his lips around your nipples. Lathering his tongue around the area before biting down just a little too hard. Squeaking at the discomfort, you were about to move back until Robby’s body pressed tight behind you preventing you from running.
“Shhh, is Jack being mean to you?” soft kisses trailed your spine as his thumb moved in and out of your ass at the same pace Jack was moving inside your cunt. “I'm sorry sweetheart, you’re doing so good though. But I gotta get in there okay?”
“I-I don’t th-hink-”
“Yes you can kid, gotta relax f’me”
The press of his cockhead quickly replaced the empty feeling left by the vacancy of his thumb as he took it out. Jack had graciously slowed his pace for Robby to enter. But refusing to pull out, stating you were going to have to get used to the tight fit anyway. It took a minute for you to fully relax, allowing him to fit the first half of him in. Curses flew from all three of you, you for the feeling of being fuller than you ever thought possible, and the two men as the warmth of you encompassed them and the press of each other through that thin wall drove them crazy.
“Fuck Jack shes tensing too much” his teeth were clenched in strain
“Nah, come on you can do it Mike be a little mean she likes it” He was content to just grind his length in you as he waited, which consequently had him rubbing against where part of Robby was.
“Jack I swear to god, just move a little”
“Okay, okay geeze. But just remember you asked”
Neither you nor Robby caught his words. Just small sighs of relief as he dropped his hips down just a bit, and then with a brace of his good foot he slammed right back up into you. A movement that had forced your body back, where your ass ended up flush with Robby's pelvis. A sound you had never made before was ripped from your throat at the feeling of being split in two.
“There you go, look at you. Stuck between two men old enough to be mistaken as your parents.” Jack wasted no time in continuing the pace he held before. Robby not far behind.
“Fuck, feel so good kid. Always so good for me, for us” Robby's pace was softer, more languid and deep than harsh and quick.
The juxtaposition between one of Robby's thrusts being the same tempo as two of Jacks didn’t last long. Especially as the clench of your body that signaled your impending second orgasm had both men chasing their own ends. Robby soon forgot the rhythm he started with and began matching Jacks, the alternating push and pull became synchronized. Becoming a sensation of being so dreadfully empty to intense pressure as they both thrusted into you at the same time.
“Gonna let your old men cum inside you? You were begging for it earlier, what was it you said hmm?” the sound skin hitting filled the room alongside his words, “want us to fill you up so much that you’re worried about it in a few weeks right”
Babbles were all that left you, too overwhelmed by emotions and your nerves lighting up. And because yeah he was right, that is what you wanted you wanted them to use you. And Jack saw that, but Robby also saw how you wanted them to care for you as well.
“You just want to know we’ll stay afterwards. Don't worry we won't leave you. Especially when you’re all round and swollen with our children and everyone is asking where the father is even with us right beside you” Robby's soft words had you reeling.
“Oh and the disgusted looks they'll have when we tell them we’re the fathers. Not only twice your age but both of us? What a dirty little thing you are” Jack just had to get that last word, which seemed to do the trick for all of you. Because as soon as it left his lips your second orgasm locked up your whole body.
Walls clenching the two of them so tightly they had no choice but to fully sheath themselves and revert to grinding their lengths into you. Triggering their own peaks as you felt the hot ropes of cum fill you. And true to your imagination from earlier, the amount that they had stuffed you full of was concerning for two men in their fifties.
After a few gentle thrusts of their softening cocks they pulled out of your body that was still twitching with aftershocks. But with the loss of them came the loss of your support that had been holding your limp body up. With the same amount of grace as a newborn calf you ended up falling face first into Jack's hard chest. Robby left the room for a moment but not a long one, as he came back with two warm wet rags. Tossing one to Jack before flipping you over onto your back and wiping off your brow and then your spent cunt. A hiss left your lips as he dragged the rough fabric over your swollen groin.
“I’m sorry sweetheart I guess we got carried away” placing a few kisses to your stomach before he tossed the used rag into a laundry bin. Laying on the bed behind you, he scooped you into his arms. His hand gently smoothing your hair out of your face as Jack moved his own body closer to the two of you.
“Did so good honey, earned yourself a rest before we talk about how this won't just be a one time thing.” Jack had found a particularly deep mark he made at your neck and gave a slight press when he saw those damn eyes closing in exhaustion again. A pained moan sounded from your throat, but your eyes still refused to open.
“Mmhmmm” And that's as good as it was going to get. But the sound of your phone chiming on the nightstand had your arm patting around to find it.
After approximately 30 seconds of trying soft snores were heard as your body stilled. Jack took it upon himself to grab your phone and check the message. A message that was from none other than Trinity Santos, asking if they should wait up for you. Followed by another that had a screenshot of your location and a ‘WHERE ARE YOU?” Figuring they should put your roommate's mind at ease they unblocked your phone (thanks face ID) and responded. Nothing too graphic of course, just a small picture of your sleeping figure between theirs and a message that said you were very much safe and to be returned at a later date.
While the two men finally tucked in for bed beside your slumbering figure, 20 minutes east of them a whole floor was woken up by a loud scream. Trinity, who received that photo, took two seconds to absorb the information before sending it to about half of the employees in the emergency department. All of which then tried blowing up your phones, but the three of you were too far into sleep to be bothered. This was a problem to address in the morning.
Dr. Robby is a Gemini middle child pleaser, he enjoys being accommodating, helpful, be there if needed but behind doors he seeks praising, yearns being told he’s doing good and he loves being good for you.
“Oh Robby, your cock is made for my pussy, fuck”, that’s your favorite thing after work, Robby fucking you, “yeah baby, it fits so perfect”, he’s big but it does fit perfect stretching you wide, “Robby be a good boy and put your glasses on”, he looks so sexy with them on, “yes honey”, Robby does as you say, such a good boy that man is, “you’re so good, you fuck me so good”, he blushes, “you’re so hot Robby, put those blushed cheeks between my legs”, “yes my love”, you can feel the tip of his nose while his tongue does magic, “you’re good Michael, you’re a good man”, “thank you baby, always good for you”, indeed, a good man he is.
Yandere!Lyonel Baratheon x Targ!reader—in which, you walk into his tent and he sees the chance to make you his
TW: 18+ MDNI. NSFW. Sex, descriptive sex. Angst because reader is Baelor's daughter and he dies. Yeah, Lyonel is kinda Yandere but not really, slightly but not much.
Dancing was something that Lyonel understood. Something that he had been doing since he was a child, raised for, raised to do in the way a courtier does, learning the way of twisting it to be enjoyable in the space between propriety and sin.
Dancing was something that he knew, that he understood, but when you walked into his tent, nothing made sense any longer. Because he knew you, knew your face, your dress, your eyes, your demeanor. Because he knew you and had loved you from afar for so long that when you stepped into his tent, the world twisted on its axis, redirecting itself, the world off-centre, upside down.
But in the most delightful of ways.
“Pretty girls don’t typically wander into tents unaccompanied,” he calls out to you, weaving between bodies, his typical smile, seductive and cocky, upon his face, set like a mask, one he wanted to take off but never could.
“How do you know I am?” you reply, your voice the one which has haunted him since he first heard it at your sixteenth name day celebration when your father, the Hand of the King, asked you to speak. Your voice was exactly as he remembered it, as dark and light and husky and smooth as it was then. A contradiction in sound.
“Because you scan this tent like you expect to be attacked at any second,” he answers, his lips curving up in a wider smile as your eyes—those perfect, beautiful eyes that have never hidden a feeling a day in their life—narrow at him, a glare that holds no true weight, only the lightness of irritation.
“Perhaps, I look for someone, my lord.” Your voice is acidic, but your lips curve up just slightly, a twitch more than anything which gives away your lack of anger, your true feelings of amusement. “And you are simply distracting me from what I came to do.”
“I’m quite good at that,” he replies, feeling that surge of delight and longing, one that he’s grown accustomed to over the years. He’s grown accustomed to the feelings and the wanting and the jealousy when any man comes close to you—the want to slit their throats for looking at you the way they do, for seeing you as he sees you.
This is the simply the first time you have ever been this close to him.
“I gathered,” you say, voice sardonic but tone light as you look over his shoulder, brows furrowing together as your lips press and Lyonel feels that twist in his gut, the twist of jealousy because he knows you look for someone else, someone that is not him. A man, of course. One that he wishes did not exist so he could have your undivided attention.
So, that he would be the only one you look at, look for.
“I can be even better if you let me,” he says, his voice dropping as his eyes trace your figure, noting the simple gown, the colours black and purple, your mother’s house colours, the house settled in his lands.
You dress as if you belong to him, in a way.
And that makes his longing and need grow in a new way. If it’s this much now, when you’re not even in his house’s colours, he wonders what it would be like if you were dressed in the Baratheon ones.
In his.
“Lord Baratheon,” you breathe, your tone lilting with faux scandal, eyes twinkling with mischief as you let your lips curve up, your mind leaving the search for your charge, “are you attempting to seduce me?”
“Perhaps,” he whispers, stepping closer, tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes trace your figure again, letting himself give into what he feels, has always felt, while you let him. “Is it working?”
“I don’t know,” you reply, hand reaching forwards, fingers curling around his doublet and pulling him closer, the gesture sharp and sudden causing him to stumble forwards, a heat rising in his face, the feeling strange and unbearable, a burning in his face, his cheeks, his forehead. He can face anyone, can flirt and seduce whomever he chooses, yet a simple conversation with you has turned him into a blushing, jealous fool. “Perhaps you should kiss me and find out.”
The words are a challenge, a dare and never has Lyonel ignored one of those.
You pulled him close enough that his body is just inches from yours, close enough to allow him to just lean in, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in, his breath grazing the skin of your cheek as he presses his lips to yours in a tender, open-mouthed touch, your lips responding in kind, the kiss tasting of first chances, of fate and desire.
Your lips are soft and warm, the feeling of them against his own almost too much for him to handle, his one hand coming to rest on your cheek, thumb tracing idle shapes on your cheekbone, his other finding purchase on your waist, fingers digging in and splaying across in a possessive gesture that should send you running, but only sends you closer to him, your own hands coming to touch him, one hand on his shoulder, the other twining in his hair, tugging gently at the strands as your mouths continue to move, his tongue stroking your own as he walks you backwards, pressing you back into one of the supports, your gasp echoing into him.
He pulls back, mourning the contact immediately, wanting nothing more than to continue kissing you, simply rucking up your skirts and taking you here and now in front of all of these people so they can see it, can know that no one has any claim to you now.
So that the news would go back to your father, would make you his bride. Like he’s always wanted.
But he doesn’t, pulling back just slightly, chest heaving with breathlessness, with desire, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, his clothes far too tight and you far too beautiful. “Has it worked?” he asks you, his heart surging when you smile at him, your lips puffy, swollen from the kissing, from the connection that was building through the years.
“Most assuredly,” you answer, your eyes so perfect before, even more perfect now, pupil-blown with desire, with lust for him. “And it will continue working if you take me to your bed.”
“Are those the words of an honorable woman?” he asks you, tone light and teasing, surprise and delight coursing through his veins, mingling with his desire and turning it all the more pleasurable.
“Who says I’m honorable, my lord? You don’t even know me,” you tell him and that’s when it becomes apparent to him, that you do not think he knows you, the Targaryen princess. That you think he thinks you are just some common woman, or a woman from a lesser house.
And that makes this all the more interesting indeed.
It appears the Seven have been kind to him after all for now he has a way to make you his.
“Very well then,” he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, the sound that of desire finally achieved, wanting become truth, dream become reality. And he guides you from the tent, leading you back to his bed, his private place far the boisterous nature of his followers, people engrossed in the debauchery he has become renowned for.
His room is nothing special, simply an ornate bed and his trunks, but all you really need is a bed. A bed with white sheets—which he has. Sheets upon which your blood will land, documented proof of the night that he can present when the rumours grow, when people talk and your name is sullied.
Proof to make you his—even if he has to start those rumours himself.
But for now, he pulls you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist as his mouth finds yours, tongue hot and sliding against yours, stroking as he sucks, his hands sliding from waist, over the curve of your hip coming to rest on the swell of your ass. He squeezes it lightly and he can feel your yelp of surprise more than he can hear it, the sound vibrating through you into him, the feeling sliding along his spine, clothes far too tight as he squeezes again, walking you backwards to the bed.
He continues to kiss you, his mouth hot as he trails his kisses from your lips, across your jaw and down your neck, kissing and licking and sucking a trail down to your collarbone, down to the valley between your still clothed breasts, his hips rutting into yours, the feeling good but not good enough, the layers of cloth between you too much.
“Gown off,” he murmurs, pulling back from you with a pop as he lets go of your skin, stepping back, his hands spinning you around to see the laces of your dress, fingers deftly pulling the strings, no stranger to the art of the bedroom dance.
“You’re very skilled at this, my lord,” you breathe as your gown pools on the floor around your feet, your small clothes following as his fingers trail hot, searing patterns along your skin, patterns that feel strangely like his name, like he’s branding you with his touch—which he is.
“I’m no stranger to the art of making love, my lady,” he replies, his mouth pressing against the shell of your ear, his breath skating over it, the warmth and the closeness causing a tremor to run through you as he pushes on your hips, pushing your ass against him, his desire pressing intently upon your body, hard and unmoving.
“Then why haven’t you gotten undressed?” Your answering reply is his laugh as he spins you, pushing you back onto the bed, his eyes tracing your figure, every inch of your exposed skin, tongue darting out to lick his lips as his pupils expand, overtaking his irises, groans leaving his lips at the sight of you, his hands deft at removing his doublet, breeches and small clothes, his naked form a sight, a surprise and delight.
“It appears I have, my lady,” he tells you, his voice low and smooth like honeyed whiskey, the sound of it erupting new feelings within you, a feeling of wetness and pooling forming between your legs, the need for friction intensifying.
Something Lyonel notices, his lips curving into a smile, every inch the Laughing Storm, the Baratheon Lord.
And then he kneels before the bed, hands locking around your ankles, pulling you back to him, your centre aligned with his mouth, his beard scratching in a way that is pleasant, a feeling too strange and delicious to describe as his tongue finds its way between your legs, licking from your entrance to your clit, his mouth sucking on it just slightly, one hand leaving your ankle to glide along your thigh, fingers searing a trail as his mouth continues to work between your legs, tongue dipping in and finding your centre, your core, darting in and out, the feeling so foreign and frightful and sinful that it’s perfect.
You wanted one night of pleasure that was yours. One that belonged to no kingdom, simply you, before you became the wife of your cousin Aerion, his way finally happening. You wanted one night where you were just you, your pleasure your own, not his. Not Aerion’s. You were aiming for the oafish hedge knight you had met when you arrived, the one whom Aerion scorned first as a stable boy and then as a knight.
He was pretty and kind and everything Aerion was not, but instead here you were, the Lord of the Stormlands buried between your thighs, his tongue darting in and out of you, lapping at you like you were everything he’d ever needed. It was an addictive feeling, this coiling and tightening of pleasure, the building as his fingers toyed with your clit, the pressure building as you cry and writhe, finally shattering around him. He unleashes a primal sound, one of delight and pleasure that vibrates through you as he presses a kiss against your clit, rising and crawling on top of you, his mouth finding yours, the taste of you upon his tongue only making it that much sweeter, that much more addictive.
“Are you ready?” he breathes and you nod, your hands flying up to rest upon his shoulders as he pushes in, just slightly, a feeling of burning and stretching ripping through you as he pushes in slowly, ever so slowly until he’s sheathed and then he waits, simply stopping as he waits for you to adjust, to become comfortable, only moving again when you nod.
And once you nod, he holds nothing back, every move sharp and rough and delicious, every slam of his hips hitting a spot inside of you that feels so pleasurable and foreign that you cry every time, your back arching, chest pressing against yours, his mouth finding your breasts, sucking and kissing and nipping them as he goes in and out, thrusts measured and skillful, but rough and animal in a way all the same.
It does not take long before you shatter again and all he does is turn you over, pulling your ass in the air, pushing your face against the mattress and going at it again and again and again, his moans not just sounds, but cries of god so good, mine, more and the most perfect cunt in the Seven Kingdoms.
“Lyonel!” you cry, your hands scrabbling with the sheets, curling them in your fists, white-knuckling them as you shatter again, this time, as he pulls out, a groan leaving his lips as he spills upon your back, the feeling of warmth against you spreading through your limbs.
And all you can do is lie there, limbs weak as he cleans you up, nice and tender, the cloth disappearing and he lifts you from the bed, setting you upon a trunk as he peels the sheets from the bed himself, setting them aside and tossing new ones on, a smirk on his lips as he glances back at you, his eyes shimmering with darkness, a depth you do not know.
“Are you leaving or remaining?” he asks you, standing before you in his naked glory, unfairly hot and making it even more difficult for you to think.
“Remaining,” you reply and then he’s there, lifting you in his arms and pulling a doublet of his over your head, laying you upon the bed as he pulls one over himself, pulling you tight against him, the covers up and over.
“Goodnight, my storm,” he murmurs against your neck, pressing a kiss just underneath your jawline as sleep claims you, pulling you down before you can wonder at the possession in his tone over the wonder.
The owning over the satiation.
***
You left in the morning, dressing in the gown from the night before when the sun was still beneath the moon, sneaking back to the castle, the feeling of freedom spreading through you as you ran, climbing up into your rooms within Ashford’s halls, giggles only escaping from your lips when you were upon your own bed, the knowing of what you had gotten away with making you giddy.
No matter what else Aerion was or would do, he could not take from you that which you had already given to someone else.
Your only act of defiance was a success.
Or so you thought.
***
Lyonel knew when you rose from the bed, sneaking back to the castle walls, back to the life of a princess, his body still resting easy at the fact that he has the proof of your blood to present to Prince Baelor when he came for your hand.
Something no one could ignore—you were his.
The proof was on the cloth.
***
“FATHER!” you cry, falling to your knees at the sight of him crumpled, dead, blood leaking from the back of his head, through the compressed metal of his helmet. “FATHER, NO! PLEASE! COME BACK!”
But he doesn’t. He remains still, warm but growing cold beneath your touch as you pull him against you, rocking back and forth with him in your arms, pleading for him to come back to you.
To just come back and be your father.
But he doesn’t. And you can’t help but wonder if this is not the Seven punishing you for your defiance.
You would take back your free night if only he would come back to you.
But he doesn’t.
He remains dead and you remain destroyed.
***
“Prince Maekar,” Lyonel calls out, the basket in his arms holding the sheets and cloth upon which your blood rests. “I have something I must discuss with you.”
He can see upon the Prince, the toll his brother’s loss has taken on him, the weight of knowing he is the cause, heavier still.
“What is it?” he snaps, looking up from the papers on the desk with a furrowed brow and glare, the weight of which is grief, not anger.
“Two nights ago, I slept with a maiden. At the time, I knew not who she was…until now. The maiden in question, as you might have heard through rumours, was none other than your niece. I have the proof here,” he says, not waiting for permission, rather dumping the bloodied cloth before the prince, the evidence of the night undeniable.
“This could be anyone’s,” Maekar says and Lyonel arches a brow, lips curling up in a grin.
“Then call her here and find out.”
***
Maekar did and the moment you stepped into the room, you knew what was happening, you knew what Lyonel was doing and so you lifted your chin and held yourself together with the little bit of pride that you had left, answering your uncle when he asked if what Lord Baratheon spoke was the truth.
“It is,” you had replied, watching as your uncle crumbled even more, signing the papers needed, giving you away to the Lord before you, the wedding simply the vows, simply enough to make it legitimate and have you leave.
Have you become Lady Baratheon before the scandal could grow.
“I’m sorry,” you had told your uncle as you said goodbye, outside the garish gold and black carriage emblazoned with the sigil of House Baratheon. “I just wanted—”
“I know,” your uncle had told you, simply pulling you against him, tears flowing from both of your faces, the grief still heavy within you both, Lyonel’s glare burning both of you. “But at least I shall never have to see the resentment in your face.”
“I could never blame you, Uncle,” you told him. “It was not your fault that my father wanted to be honourable. The…fucking fool he was. But at least…at least, I shall never have to see the man at fault. At least…at least I’m free of him.”
And no more was said, you were simply bundled into the carriage and taken to the Stormlands with the man who had taken what he wanted when it was presented before him.
You could not fault him for that.
Perhaps, it would be a good life. After all, you could do much worse.
***
Epilogue
“Did you know it was me all along?” you ask Lyonel now, years later, you upon his lap, his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as you watch your children play, their laughter drifting up to you.
“What?” he asks you, his attention turning back to you fully, although always half-on you, his love, his life and light. His wife.
“That night…did you know it was me? It’s the only thing that explains why you kept the sheets,” you tell him, resting your head upon his shoulder, snuggling deeper into him.
“Of course I did,” he tells you. “I recognized you the moment you walked in. I had wanted you for a very long time and there the opportunity to have you came about and so I took it. I would take it again. Anything to have you.”
“Anything?” you ask him, tone incredulous as he laughs against you, the deep, delightful rumble echoing through your chest.
“Yes,” he says. “After all, storms bow for no man.”
This is nasty so it’s under a cut. I’m sorry, and you’re welcome.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Sub Robby needs someone to clean him up, clean his soft sensitive cock and be gentle with it. You’ll need to bring him water. He’ll be more soft spoken and just wanna watch some tv, using you as a pillow until he falls asleep.
Dom Robby can be anything you need during aftercare, but usually he’s cheeky asf. He’s smug, and teasing, his fingers lingering a little too long over your most sensitive spots, loving the way you squirm. He’ll clean you with a warm rag and help you to the bathroom. He’ll hold you until you fall asleep on his chest.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Robby’s favorite body part of yours, regardless if he’s subbing or doming is your pussy/cock. He’s obsessed. Like, literally. He’s always going down on you, or got a hand shoved down your pants just watching tv together. He plays with you mindlessly.
Robby’s favorite body part on himself is his hands. Seeing them grip your jaw, pull your hair, stuffing his fingers in your mouth. He loves it.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Literally anything. His own? He loves to watch you eat it. Loves to come on your face, or watch it leak out of you. He likes it when you feed it back to him in a kiss, or tease him about how much/far he can come when you edge him. He’s come on his own chin/mouth before.
Yours? Can’t get enough. He makes you come multiple times, every time.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Robby secretly fantasizes about actually letting someone watch you guys and maybe even join. He’s afraid to acknowledge that it’s always Jack he pictures.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Robby is most definitely experienced. He’s got a few years on you too but that doesn’t mean you haven’t introduced him to new things before.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sub Robby loves to be ridden or forced to ride until he’s crying, either edging him that way or just making him come over and over again.
Dom Robby loves doggy. He wants to feel the most in control when he’s doming, being able to slap/play with your ass, pull your hair or push your face into the bedding.
It just depends. I can also see Robby having the most absolutely filthy, sweaty and slow grinding kinda missionary sex as either a sub or dom.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Depends on the scene, but it most definitely happens with Robby. He’s gonna tease you like hell when he’s in charge and brat like hell when he’s not.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Bush. Bush. Bush. I literally wanna bury my face in it. Yes, he’s already greying a little.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Yes. Robby’s literally enamored with you. Stares at you like you’re the moon, in awe sometimes when he has you in his hands. He never fails to make even the dirtiest scenes end with kisses and reassurance.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Robby likes to jerk off where he knows you’re gonna catch him. It plays into everything for him. If he’s subbing, it’s something you can tease him about. You walk in and see him, and he’s already blushing, shaking, apologizing even though he planned it.
If he’s doming, he’s slow with it, dirty. He wants you to feel embarrassed. He’ll make you watch and then crawl to him.
Literally anywhere in your home. Robby will corner you anywhere. The bathroom, the laundry room, kitchen. His favorite though is anywhere there’s a window. He likes the idea of you two being watched.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Literally just you, watching you in your own little world. It’s why Robby seems to always be ambushing you. He can’t help it. Putting on a load of laundry, just watching tv, and Robby needs to touch you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Robby’s not doing anything to permanently hurt you. While he loves to see some bruises or marks he’s left behind, he’s extremely careful. He’ll never burn you or cut you, so knife play is out of the question and he’s hesitant as hell about waxes.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Both. Sub Robby loves going down on you and getting head. He’s usually blushing and crying through both.
Dom Robby loves to use your throat. I feel like this is where Robby can be his dirtiest sometimes. The filth he says when he’s getting blown is insane.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Both.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
In favor. Not very good at keeping them that way. What’s supposed to be a quickie ends up lasting longer because Robby can’t stop. He’s shown up late a few times and afternoon plans/dinners have been canceled because by the time you’re done, you’re exhausted.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Obviously. Robby will never risk safety but he’s all in for trying new toys/dynamics with proper research.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Sub Robby comes quick. It’s just the headspace he’s in. It’s why the most common dynamic between you while he’s subbing is overstimulation. You just make him come again, and again.
Dom Robby last longer, pulls at least two orgasms from you to his one, but there’s usually at least two rounds.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Tons. Both.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A lot. Robby loves to see you squirm. He’ll play with your nipples or your clit/cock just enough for soooo long before he even thinks of doing anything else.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Extremely vocal, both as a sub and a dom. If Robby’s not whispering filthy shit in your ear, he’s whimpering.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Robby gets wet. A lot. Like, he’s soaking through his boxers, leaving wet patches, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Dad bod. Hairy. Robby has a belly and a chest big enough to squeeze. Stretch marks. Thighs for riding. 7 inches, thick. Darker shade, purplish tip. Wet.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High as fuck for someone his age, and he can come more than once in one night.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends. If he subbed, pretty quickly. He’s floaty as shit so it doesn’t take much for him to drift off. If he was in control, he waits until you’ve fallen asleep first, incase you need anything from him.
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(NSFW Alphabet Jack Abbot next?)
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